Meant to get this out yesterday but work makes me tired. You guys should totally love me anyway. Why? Because I haven't left my bed for even food or water until I finished this chapter. Sadly, I thought the last chapter would get more comments. I mean Spock did get shot and fall off a cliff. I expected angry comments. Sorry Spock, no love for you.

In other news, saw the new Star Trek Beyond trailer. I died a little on the inside and spent two hours yesterday on youtube talking about Star Trek, defending the previous two movies and TOS and Benedict Cumberbatch. My major problems though, besides the tons of explosions, Kirk's hair, and there not being a single scene with Kirk and Spock in the same frame.

Everything was blurry. The water was freezing against his skin, encasing him in what felt like ice. It numbed the fiery pain in his body, but he couldn't remember how he got injured. Someone was calling out to him. Their katra was reaching out towards him, telling him to hold on, to not lose consciousness.

He opened his eyes. Jim was reaching for him, his face marred with fear and concern, his hand outstretched, grasping for him, red from his wounds mingling with the crystal green water. Why would Jim be here in this place? Where was the emerald green that was diffusing with the water coming from? There was so much of it. Mingling and mixing with the red. It was beautiful.

His arms lost their strength releasing whatever he was holding, fascinated with the colors entwining before him. Whatever he had been holding reached back, wrapping around him tightly. Concern. Fear.

He tried to focus on Jim, but he was gone, like a dream. Had he really seen him?

His consciousness drifted again.

He didn't know when he left the water. He was no longer shivering. Something in his mind told him that should be bad, but the thought left like whisper. The thing in his arms was leaning over him, screaming something at him, but he could not hear it.

Jim. His t'hy'la. He never told him. He closed his eyes, drifting off into oblivion. He should have told him.

Jim located the others within an hour of searching. He was angry. Beyond angry. Spock had been right there. He had been within his grasp, but then he got caught within a fast current, being pulled under the water and away from Spock. He was forced to swim to shore before he was carried too far away. He waited to see if Spock would float by, but after half an hour, he had to conclude that either Spock and Luca had drowned or he had somehow missed them.

During his hour trip, his clothes had dried, but his anger was still going strong. The group had moved north and were waiting at the base of the mountain they had originally went around when they were headed towards the rock structure they had spent the first few nights in. The first person Jim saw was Decker.

"You fucking bastard!" Jim struck his face with his fist, bringing the commodore to his knees. "Spock could be dead because of you!" He punched him again.

Decker brought up his arms to protect his face as Jim continued his assault. It annoyed him. Jim kicked his stomach hard, forcing the man to crumple onto the ground, his shirt riding up.

Jim's eyes widened, seeing the white that covered the commodore's back and spreading to his stomach. An all consuming anger filled his entire being. In a deathly low voice, he approached the commodore. "I'm going to fucking kill you. You have the nerve to be around my crew with the infection all over you?"

Decker was showing fear, but Jim did not care. He was going to beat that fucker to death. And he tried.

He struck him again and again, ignoring the way his knuckles split and how it aggravated his wounds. A superior was supposed to protect his subordinates, and Decker knowingly stayed near his crew, chancing infection.

McCoy came up behind him and literally pulled him off with much difficulty. Jim was stronger and full of rage. He was pulling away when Uhura stepped in front of him, separating his line of sight from the commodore.

"Calm down, Jim." McCoy bit out, wishing he had his hypos. "Tell us what happened before you go murdering your superior officer."

Jim had to tear his eyes off of Decker. The anger dimmed, but didn't extinguish. "Spock was cornered. Luca took out two of them, and I joined to take out the rest of them, but one of them got a lucky shot in. Spock got shot and fell off the cliff with Luca," Jim retold the story as quickly as he could, his mind on other things. If he had been faster. Faster taking care of their attackers. Faster jumping off the cliff. Faster noticing them. He clenched his fists. "I jumped off to get them, but they got away."

"Jesus Jim. Sit down and let me take a look at you." McCoy finally released him and noticed his injuries. "You're lucky you didn't break any bones, pulling a stunt like that."

"Spock had already disturbed the water, and I was prepared for it. I fell correctly. Spock didn't. I think his back took most of the impact. He wasn't moving much," Jim ground out, remembering the way Spock just stared at him, not moving. Between the phaser wound and the damage from the fall…

"I'm sure Spock's alive, Kirk." Uhura said gently. McCoy was carefully cleaning his wounds with the small medkit that had been in their survivor kit. He didn't even lecture Jim about using his arm as a shield. No need to poke the bear.

He shouldn't have left the group, Jim thought. If he had stayed, he would have been the one to draw them away. Spock would still be safe.

"Hey, kid. It wasn't your fault," McCoy tried to reassure him, but it didn't help. Jim's mind was racing, trying to think, trying to decide if he should keep looking for Spock. The chances of him still being alive were slim, but what if he did make it to shore? He would have sported heavy wounds from the phaser and the fall. Would he have survived the hour and a half from then til now? Probably not. The risk wasn't worth searching for him. If this was Tarsus, he would have been satisfied jumping off the cliff and trying. He would have moved on by now because there were kids waiting for him back at camp. Even now, he had people still alive, well, and waiting. But…

"Commodore, perhaps you should tell us why you were away from camp this morning, and what really happened to you and your crew," Uhura asked, staring him down.

The commodore's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at being caught in his lie. His face was swelling from Jim's punches, but no sympathy showed on anyone's face. Slowly, he sat up, looking at the ground in shame. "My crew and I were at the east settlement when the initial outbreak of insanity broke out. We were sent here for training exercises. There were about fifty of us. When the chaos started, the colonists had lost it, was destroying everything and attacking whoever they didn't seem trustworthy. I took one of the shuttles as a decoy and told my crew to take the transport vehicle to the main settlement. The eventually shot me down, but I managed to eject and land safely. I made my way to the main settlement to meet up with them."

Horror fell over his face. "The main settlement had been in even worse condition. Completely fortified and killing anyone who came near it. One of my men had escaped the wreckage of the transport vehicle but severely wounded. She told me that anyone who didn't die in the crash was taken prisoner. I tried to figure out what happened to them but every person I manage to catch tells me different things. They were experimented on, they were eaten, they were beaten to death. All I know for sure is that they are all dead. I…I sent them to their deaths."

The man was crying, full out crying, and Kirk was annoyed and disgusted by it. Decker was so obsessed with getting revenge he threw regulations and common sense out the window. Jim made horrible mistakes too, but he didn't allow it to cripple his judgement for too long. But he had also had Jabari and Spock by his side. Spock…

What was he going to do about Spock? Should he keep looking for a sign he was still alive or may have gotten out of the water? Luca could be still alive in any case. Spock had protected the boy from the fall. He felt a bit of guilt that he hadn't thought of the boy until now. He had been completely obsessed with Spock.

"Captain, what are your orders?"

Uhura's question snapped Jim out of his thoughts. All eyes were on him. It was his responsibility to keep them alive.

"We'll check the river bank one last time to see if Spock made it out. If we can't find him or someone attacks us while we're looking, then we'll assume he's dead and focus on how to get out of here," he said quietly.

"You sure you want to do that, kid?" McCoy put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's a lot more than what I've done for a lot of people," he looked up at his friend. McCoy looked sad. Sad for him. He didn't understand why, and truthfully, he didn't want to know.

Kirk stood up, straightening his uniform. "Let's go."

Spock opened his eyes to be greeted with an unfamiliar metal ceiling. Within two seconds of regaining consciousness, his body cried out in pain. He minimized all movement, while cataloguing the damage. He had suffered a blow to the back of the head, two fractured ribs, major bruising on his back, a superficially healed phaser wound, and a leg healed without the bone being properly set. It seemed whoever had saved him had done just enough to keep him from dying.

What was more concerning was that he had not entered into a Vulcan healing trance, and he could not tell if it was because he subconsciously knew there would be no one around to take him out of it or he simply could not achieve it.

He tilted his head to the side to get a better look of the room. It looked to be an office of some sort or maybe a bedroom. There was a large desk and two large bookshelves covering the back wall. There were no windows, and only two doors, which one was probably a closet, and the other had a small camera above it.

There was a person in the room too, a woman in her mid thirties. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a sever bun, and her clothes were clean and proper. She looked down on him condescendingly, but brought a hypo to his neck anyway.

"I see you are finally awake," she said, taking a seat in a chair by his bedside.

Spock assessed her. She gave off an air of authority, a no questions asked attitude, and a calculating gaze. Spock didn't ask questions waiting for her to speak. She had wanted him alive for a reason, but he didn't think it was out of kindness considering the minimum attention given to his wounds.

"You are probably wondering why we saved you," she said thoughtfully, leaning back into her chair. "The answer is quite simple. Luca is my nephew. He got separated from me with his parents during the initial chaos. One of my men found you and recognized Luca. Luca told us the gist of what happened since his parents died. Since you saved him, we decided to spare your life. For now."

"I see," Spock said carefully.

"Until we decide what to do with you, you will stay in this room. You may read or use the terminal, but it's not connected to any server so you can't do much with it." She stood. "If you start trying to search for a way out, trust that we will kill you without hesitation before you succeed. Any questions?"

"May I ask for a name to call you by?" His voice came out harsher than he had predicted. It was rough and his tongue felt too thick for his mouth. The aftereffects from the planet's water most likely.

"You may call me Shelby. Anything else?"

"Not at this moment." There were several questions he wanted to ask, but the woman was impatient. He could tell by the way she was edging towards the door, waiting for him to be done. She didn't care for him. That much was obvious. It was a wonder that she had let him live. Perhaps it was on a human whim. Or more likely, she wanted something from him. Either way, pushing her patience would lead to his death. That he was certain.

She left without another word. Spock could hear an electronic lock and a strong deadbolt engage on the door. He was left alone.

He laid in bed, going over his predicament. Luca had survived the fall and was in an undisclosed location nearby. He was functional; however, his body was in bad shape. He would not be able to run with his improperly healed leg, or fight without opening all of his wounds. He was unable to enter a trance without someone to break him out of it. It was also unlikely he could search the door for weakness or search for a blind spot in the camera's view without agitating his captors. And the landing party may or may not know where he is, so rescue was uncertain. The situation was not in his favor.

Slowly and with much care, he sat up in the bed, pushing back the pain. All he could do in his condition was wait until someone rescued him or he received additional information to work with.

His eyes drifted to the bookcase. Approximately seven steps away. He placed his feet onto the tiled floor and using the headboard, hoisted himself onto his feet. Pain shot up his leg at the pressure. His pant leg was rolled up to his thigh and Spock could clearly see where the bone had been broken. It was crooked. Doctor McCoy would have to rebreak the bone and set it properly.

The longer he stood, the more pain seemed to overcome his body. His phaser wound ached and burned, and the bruising on his spine was more serious than he had predicted, and his broken ribs made breathing increasingly difficult the longer he remained upright. Those seven steps seemed very far away now.

Determined, he took one step at a time, using the wall for support. Illogically, it felt like it took an eternity to reach his destination. He was out of breath and the pain was becoming unbearable. This was perhaps not one of his best ideas. Still, he had already made the trip. He might as well grab as many books as he could to avoid making another trip too soon.

There was quite a variety of books, and Spock was quite impressed with the collection. It ranged from astrophysics to well known pieces of literature, some quite old and all very expensive as paper books were uncommon. He noted that any book that could give him information on either the situation, scientific reports of experiments done on the planet, or books that might help him escape, chemistry and mechanical engineering books, were not present. They were quite efficient it seemed in limiting any escape attempts it seemed.

He had read the astrophysics books in the collection already, though he grabbed two as he found the articles a fascinating read. The literature he grabbed Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Stephen King, Thy'lek Shran, all his mother's favorite authors. He had a fondness for these authors as well as a result.

There was one book that caught his attention. It was a famous recent author with only two books published, but one was required reading in almost every major higher education literature class around the Federation. Spock had not needed to read it as it inserted itself into the Vulcan curriculum after Spock had already graduated. He knew the basis of the story of course. Two soldiers on a mission who got stranded on a hostile planet must survive while they tried not to lose themselves to the chaos around them. He had never bothered reading it because the plot had seemed overused.

He picked up the book. He did not know they even made a paper copy of this book. The book was average size, probably only a little over 350 pages, suitable for light reading. The cover was rather plain too, just a mirror, half covered in grime, nothing else. On the spine, the author's name and the title were written in plain bold font in gold letters. The back cover didn't even have reviews from critics on it, only a simple summary. There was nothing that would entice many species to give the book a chance, just word of mouth.

Jabari Quin's Drowning Whispers. Perhaps given the situation, reading it would not be entirely wasteful. He was currently on a hostile planet; perhaps it would give him some insight into his situation though it seemed highly unlikely as it was a book of fiction.

With his stack of books, he returned to the bed, which felt farther away than before, and placed the books on the nightstand. It took careful maneuvering to be able to sit back down, his wounds protesting loudly with every move, and it was a relief once he was settled.

He started with the astrophysics articles, and quickly set his scientific mind in correcting the articles with updated equations and theories, forgetting about his discomfort and Drowning Whispers at the bottom of the stack.

It was almost dusk by the time Jim found something. The green blood from Spock's wounds had almost been completely washed away and blended in well with the purplish grass. Jim had only noticed it because there was a faint imprint of crushed foliage where Spock's body had rested, and a slight imprint of small feet in the mud. Spock had been here, as had Luca, but they weren't alone.

There were a set of heavier footprints. At least three sets that came to this spot. Two sets were heavier leaving then coming. It was safe to assume that Luca and Spock had been picked up, but it didn't make sense. The colonists had shown themselves to be hostile and killed anything that moved. Luca he could understand. He was one of them. Someone might have recognized him, but why would they take Spock.

Jim wondered if they took him because Luca asked, but disregarded the idea. Most adults wouldn't listen to what a kid had to say in these types of situations. They'd assume they knew what was best. Perhaps they took him for bait? Or for something worse?

Unconsciously, he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought. The trail was hard to follow, so they did know what they were doing. Only Luca's trail was easier to follow. The kid wanted to be found again, so Luca didn't like whoever had found them. His trail didn't last long as it seemed he was picked up and carried.

Jim grew frustrated as he followed the trail. He lost it several times in places, and he found himself wishing Jabari was there so he could follow the damned trail instead of him. Eventually he did figure out where the trail took him, it lead to the main settlement. The amount of curse words that ran through his head was long as he ran through every one he knew. Again, he wondered why they would take Spock. Everything he could think of wasn't a pleasant one, and the longer he was with them, the lower the chances of Spock's survival. The situation had not changed. There was as much uncertainty now as there was before.

Jim went back to his team, thinking things over. He practically alienated Decker as he was forced to stay 50 feet away from his crew, but not completely banished either. He stopped by the river to wash his clothes after touching the scumbag and ordered them to do the same. He was still beyond angry, and he wouldn't be held accountable if he beat him to death if the commodore got too close.

He told them about the situation, that Spock was alive for now and in the main settlement with Luca. When asked about what they should do, he faltered.

"Come on, Jim. This is Spock we're talking about. We can't leave his hobgoblin ass there," McCoy was pacing in front of him. It had to be the doctor in his friend making him do so, just knowing the great array of injuries the Vulcan had was really unsettling him. If Jim was honest, he was worried as well. Would his captor's treat his wounds? Or would they let him bleed to death?

"Captain, Spock is inside. If he is able to, perhaps he could lower the shield around the planet," Uhura suggested. "We could contact the Enterprise."

"If he is able to," the captain muttered, sitting down on a fallen log. If he was able. But Spock wouldn't be able. Everything told Jim he should walk away, not take the risk. He should take the time to come up with a solid plan. Take things slow. Leave Spock to his fate to ensure his own.

But he was never one to listen to reason.

"If we do this, we need come up with one hell of a plan." He sighed, looking up at his crew.

Uhura smiled and Bones slapped him on the shoulder. "Why do you think we let you tag along?"

A smile twitched on the captain's lips. "How kind of you." He sighed, standing up. "Well, let's figure something out before Spock beats us to it."

Spock had just finished reading through three of his small collection of books, when the door slammed open and a small blur ran across the room and attached itself to his person, pressing heavily against the barely healed phaser wound.

He looked down at Luca, feeling a mixture of relief, concern, and fear radiating off the child. "I am gratified that you are well," Spock said, watching the woman named Shelby enter the room as well.

"What does gradified mean?" the boy muttered into his chest, not relinquishing his hold on Spock. Luca was putting his body weight on his injured leg, and Spock was trying not to let it show on his expression.

He brushed Luca's psi points in a way that appeared he was pushing the dirty stands out of the child's face. He was aware how intently the woman stood watching their interactions, but he could not help but wish to calm Luca from the high levels of anxiety that seem to plague him. "I am happy that you are well," Spock amended, pulling up tranquil thoughts with the light touch.

Appreciative of the light meld, Luca allowed the calm to wash over him, but it did not relax his body as if alert for an attack.

"He refused to calm down until he knew you were okay," the woman answered, clearly bristling. "But children don't care about time and place."

Luca was a sensible kid. He was smart too. Luca had never once asked for anything since being in his care except to be of assistance. "jagh," Luca muttered, loud enough for Spock's ears. Spock knew limited Klingon, just a few words, but he understood that one. Enemy. Luca did not trust this woman.

Spock was so preoccupied with Luca, he hadn't noticed the plate of food in her hand until she pretty much dropped it in his lap. The plate contained a slab of meat, the outside a bit charred, but still bleeding a bit of red. Spock wondered what animal it was. The animal Jim had caught bled more of an orange color than red.

"I will abstain from eating for now." Spock's response only made the woman glare.

"Too good to eat what the rest of us eat? Or does your delicate Vulcan sensibilities not allow you to eat meat no matter the circumstances."

Spock quirked an eyebrow, "I am merely declining because I am not certain if I am able to eat without regurgitating it due to the extent of my injuries."

She hummed, her sharp eyes never leaving him as she moved about the room. "I don't recall there being a Vulcan on the colony before the outbreak."

Spock looked back down at Luca and readjusted him on the bed. "I was sent with a landing party to assess the situation and request backup from our starship if we required assistance. However, upon arrival, we were attacked and our shuttle was destroyed."

She clicked her tongue and she gave him a wry smile. "I remember that shuttle. Almost two weeks ago now right? My bad," she didn't sound very sorry at all. "Shuttles have been used in the past to bomb our settlement. With a little creativity, we made some anti aircraft weaponry. Amazing what one can do with a lot of time on your hands."

"You may have sabotaged your only chance of rescue."

"If what you said was true, Vulcan," she interrupted, her voice sharp, "your ship would have already sent reinforcements to the same coordinates, and there have been no more shuttles since the crash of yours."

The Enterprise had not sent another landing party. That was not expected, but the bigger problem was how this all would look to an outsider. It did not bode well, and her hostility towards him was more than paranoia, it was an accusation. That he had been responsible for all of this.

"I am sure there must be a logical reason why my ship has not sent reinforcements."

"I'm sure," she replied darkly, taking a seat at the desk.

They all sat in an uncomfortable silence.

Luca was the first to move, reaching over to Spock's book pile and grabbing the book on top, staring at the cover.

"Do you wish for me to read it to you?" Spock asked.

Luca shook his head, sitting in between Spock's legs and leaning his back into the Vulcan's chest. "I'm going to read to you."

Spock's eyebrow lifted in surprise, but stayed silent. Luca turned to the first page and began reading "Call me eye-sh-may-le"

"Ishmael," Spock gently corrected.

The boy snapped around with a loud, "SHHH! I'm reading." This time both eyebrows shot up at the reprimand. "I can do it by myself." Settling down, the boy continued, "Call me Ishmael. Some years ago─ never mind how long pre-size-ly…precisely─ having little or no money in my purse─"

Spock listened. He knew most of the book by heart, knew every mispronunciation Luca made, and what words he would most likely struggle with, yet it was so different. A Vulcan child Luca's age would have been able to read the book flawlessly, but Spock almost smiled when the stubborn child struggled with a word and his excitement and accomplishment trickled through his touch when he figured it out on his own.

No one had ever attempted to read to him since he was a very young child and his mother would read at his bedside. The fact Luca was trying to read to him because he was injured was quite satisfactory. Spock had even forgotten Shelby was in the room until she forced Luca to leave with her after the third chapter. Luca didn't want to leave, but he didn't resist. He wouldn't even allow his aunt to touch him, so he left without argument, telling Spock he'd come back.

Marking the page, Spock placed the book aside. He would let Luca continue if he came to visit again. Looking at the remaining three books in his stack, he picked up Drowning Whispers.

Jim peered across the field. It was just for a second. A reflection of light in the trees. They were ready to move.

He took a piece of polished metal and reflected the moonlight off it in their direction, signaling he was done as well. He waited for one last signal. He saw it somewhere to his left. They were in three groups of two. They were to go in and out. Short and simple.

Jabari signaled that the coast was clear. Jim took point, leading the way into the east side of the mansion.

They called it a mansion but it was much more than that. It was a building that served as a multipurpose unit to the colony. In the west wing was a medbay that functioned as the colony's hospital, the more secure laboratories were in the east wing. The central building served as a sort of place where the governor, his family, and higher officials stayed. It was the central building they were after.

Jim snuck up behind one of the guards turning around the corner, covering the man's mouth with one hand and shooting him with a phaser in the back with the other, then quietly lowering him to the ground. Jabari continued ahead to take out another guard.

They quietly took out the guards working their way inside though a side entrance, waving an ID card they grabbed from one of the bodies. Inside, everything was quiet, just as they had suspected. They heard another person entering the hallway. Jim hid behind a cart that had been long forgotten in the hallway and Jabari behind the column. The elder boy would be out of sight until the person passed by, but Jim trusted Jabari to take care of it.

He waited for Jabari to move, but he didn't. He had a glazed over look in his eyes, completely out of it. The person walked past Jabari's spot and squeaked at the sudden sight of a kid. The scientist fumbled for her phaser, taking aim, but Jim was already moving, shooting her before she could call for help.

Jim caught the body before it could fall into a stack of boxes and scanned the area nervously, hoping no one else was around to see that. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he whispered harshly. "If you can't keep your head in the game, then get the fuck out of here."

Jabari closed his eyes, taking a steady breath. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Jabari. If we're going to get out of here alive, we can't afford to screw up."

"I know."

Agitated, Jim reached over to switch his phaser pistol with the rifle Jabari was carrying. It was the only reason, he even noticed, being so close to the boy who hardly moved. Jabari was burning up. Frowning, Jim brought his hand to his face, to touch his forehead. His fingers barely touched before the older boy pulled away, but he had felt it. His fever had to be close to 40 degrees. Maybe higher. Now that Jim was paying attention, he could see how pale his friend was, how he was breathing a little too hard, how his body was fighting off a shiver.

He took Jabari's arm before he could protest and removed the soiled bandage. The knife wound was an angry red, secreting a clear, milky substance with a lingering odor and not scabbed over properly. It was clearly infected. Badly.

"How bad is it," he asked, his voice low and devoid of emotion.

Jabari pulled his arm away, pulling the sleeve back down to partially cover it the injury. "The infection has spread to my blood stream. I probably have only a day or so before I either go into a coma or die from organ failure."

"Why didn't you take an antibiotic?" Jim snapped, forgetting where he was.

"There were no hypos left, Jim," he said calmly, but the teen wouldn't have it.

"Bullshit. We found one yesterday. You could have used it."

"A single hypo wouldn't have helped much," Jabari looked at him with a strange expression. One Jim kept seeing more and more often on the older teen. One he could never decipher. "But it was enough to help you,"

"There must be something in the medbay." Jim was already calculating a route, trying to figure out how out of the way the trip would be. "You just have to hold on until then okay?"

Another expression crossed over Jabari's face. This time it was pity. "I'll try. For now, we have a mission to accomplish."

With a reluctant nod, they continued on. They took out a few more guards and stray scientists as they headed towards the central part of the building.

Two corridors away from the exit they ran into a problem. A line of guards with phasers, shooting at them the moment they turned the corner. Jabari managed to get across the hall, Jim did not. He heard the group approach them, and Jabari and Jim nodded before heading off in separate directions. Jabari down the corridor he had escaped to and Jim from where they had came.

The group of guards split between them, but they were slow. He ran down another corridor before they could shoot and then ran into one of the labs, escaping into an attached room and circling around them quickly and heading back towards the direction Jabari had taken. He found two dead guards, and he relaxed a bit. Jabari was still alert and picking off his attackers. They would meet up and finish everyone off before continuing.

He picked up a phaser off one of the dead bodies. They must have realized quards were not reporting in and mobilized accordingly since an alarm had yet to go off. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious they were working from the outside in and being fairly thorough in taking out everyone. While it was the best plan to work with, it got predictable they would eventually head for the door that lead to the central wing. He'd keep that in mind next time.

He continued down the hall, taking out any stragglers he could. He slipped into one room when he heard a large group approaching, and waited for them to pass. He took a quick look around the room he had entered. It looked like the guards' changing room with lockers on the walls and benches in front of them. Sitting on one of the benches was Robert, staring back at him. He was thinner than when Jim had last seen him, but not thin enough to have been starving as Jim and the others had. His hair had been trimmed recently and his uniform clean. Robert clearly had no troubles past meddling children making his life difficult.

"I thought maybe it was you," Robert said. He seemed legitimately happy to see him. "Only one kid could cause that much trouble for the authorities."

"Funny, I was hoping you were dead," Jim replied, readjusting his grip on the phaser.

"Don't be like that, Jim. Now that you're here, we can finally be a family."

A bitter smile made Jim's cracked lips bleed. "A family. Yeah. Then you can watch them rape and kill me too right?"

The guard sighed, his smile falling. "You were there."

"Of course I was. Joanna protected me. You know, what you were supposed to fucking do."

Hurt flashed on the man's face. "I didn't want that to happen to her you know. I tried to save her."

"Tried. Yeah right. You weren't even fazed when you saw her body," he snapped, pointing a phaser at the man.

"I saw a lot of death that week. It was hard to feel anything after everything I saw," he sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

Jim looked at him incredulously. "Are you fucking shitting me? I wouldn't fucking understand? I don't think you understand, Robert. I had to fight to survive, go hungry for weeks before I could find something to eat, watch the people around me die. While you sat in your fucking mansion with edible food, working water, and hanging out with your guards who raped and/or killed my kids. You didn't even beat the shit out of the people who did that to her!"

"No, you did. You don't think I noticed that the ring of rapists has diminished? You were fine on your own."

Jim couldn't believe this. Couldn't believe this man. The one Jim was going to let marry his aunt. The one Jim was kind of starting to like. "You were supposed to protect her."

"Joanna wasn't all roses either, Jim. Didn't you ever wonder how she knew how to survive like she did? Or how she knew how to fight? Or how she knew how bad the fungus was before anyone else?"

Jim's mouth went dry. "She didn't."

"They made the fungus. It was made with military intent in mind. Joanna was one of the best elite operatives as well as a scientist. I didn't teach her how to defend herself. She taught me."

"Liar!" Jim went to shoot, but Robert was faster. He grabbed Jim's hand, redirecting the shot, then turned Jim around, forcing his arm behind his back, twisting it.

"Don't fight, Jim. I don't want to hurt you. You're arm will break if you struggle too much."

"Then it's a good thing there's a hospital in the building huh." Grinding his teeth, Jim twisted, breaking his arm but allowing him to reach the knife on Robert's belt with his good hand. Surprised, Robert let go of his arm in attempt to grab the phaser, but Jim was faster, motivated by the pain in his arm. He stabbed Robert in the shoulder, making the bigger man stumble back as he cried out in pain.

Jim pulled out the knife and stabbed him again in the stomach, then again in the torso. Robert fell to his knees, looking up at Jim with surprise and confusion written all over his face.

The teen returned nothing but contempt. "You may not want to hurt me, but I really wanted to hurt you."

Robert's body fell to the ground, but not before Jim removed his weapon from his chest. Once Robert hit the floor, Jim didn't give him another thought, putting his mind to work on the task at hand. He spent too much time playing around. His right arm was now useless. He needed to find Jabari.

He ran out of the changing room back towards the door that would lead to the central building. As he turned into the last corridor, an elbow struck him hard in the face. Jim fell, sprawled out of the ground disoriented and his nose possibly broken and dripping blood.

Someone was on top of him, wrestling the phaser out of his hand. Jim fought pathetically, his head swimming too much and his arm too useless to put up a decent fight. He lost the phaser quickly.

His attacker got off him, quick to put some distance between them when Jim still had his knife. His vision was clearing. It was a woman who had gotten the jump on him. It was a shame too, Jim thought as she pointed the weapon at him. She was really pretty.

He closed his eyes, not wishing to see his end coming. He heard the phaser go off and something wet and warm hit his face, then heard a short struggle ensue after. It was enough to make him peel one eye open. The first thing he saw was red. Red quickly drenching the shirt of the person standing in front of him, breathing heavily. Dreading who he would see, his gaze slowly traveled up to meet his savior's face and blood drained from Jim's face.

"Go. I'll hold them off," Jabari said, one hand holding the wound in his stomach.

"No," Jim said shakily, staring at the blood, seeping between the dark fingers. He stood up. "We can fix this." Feet were approaching. "We'll get you to medbay. We'll delay the attack. We'll─"

Jim was falling. Jabari was smiling. It was soft and intimate that reached his golden-brown eyes. "Let me help," he said softly.

Jim fell through the doorway, and Jabari shot the controls, short circuiting them and made the door close and lock.

Jim sat there, staring at the door that separated them. He couldn't hear anything happening on the other side. The door was practically invulnerable without something much stronger than anything Jim could find. He'd have to exit the building and reenter from the side door they had entered through. There was no way for Jim to get to him in time.

Standing, Jim kept staring at the door. Kodos will pay. They all would.

On cue, the fire alarms went off. Shit. He was late. He ran for the exit, one of the keycards in hand. The east wing was sealed off. Jabari made sure of that. The door to the west wing should be closed off as well, trapping everyone in the central building as his team had cleared out the less crowded east and west wings. He waved the keycard, opening the exit to the outside, and followed the path he had laid out for himself earlier.

He stopped at the edge of the forest and watched as people came out the front door. The first four people who exited the building walked carelessly and ran straight ahead, setting off the mines Jim had created and buried at both exits of the mansions. The following people stopped, watching in dread as body parts rained down from the sky.

Zander, a tech expert in the group, had made sure all the cameras weren't working when Jim went out to plant his homemade bombs. Phaser packs could be quite useful. Anyone who was brave enough to go through the minefield was either blown up or shot if they somehow made it. Others stayed in the mansion as it slowly burned, and Jim watched. Watched as they all died. Kodos was in there. He would burn to death with his precious guards.

The fire raged on until morning.

Jim reunited with his team. The central team who had started the fire and grabbed supplies had lost a team member as well. They had only lost two. It wasn't bad, and the haul was good. Jim didn't know where the 4000 that were spared from the massacre was, neither did Jim care. As long as they didn't mess with Jim and his family, he'd leave them alone.

The four of them split into two groups and took care of anyone who survived. At some point, Jim escaped Zander's company and went back to the east wing. He made his way back to the sealed door.

Jabari held a sword in one hand and a phaser in the other. He had a couple lacerations and three more phaser wounds in addition to the one Jim had left him with. He couldn't tell what did Jabari in or where in the world he got a sword from but it seemed appropriate.

Jim sat beside the corpse, his face blank as he leaned against the wall. Jabari looked peaceful. There was no fear in his face. He almost looked like he was having fun when he died, or at least content. He took out at least four guards before he died.

Jim looked at the empty hypos in his hand. All of them labeled antibiotics. Even if Jabari survived, there was nothing to save him from the infection that had already spread to his blood. He would have died anyway in another few days. Jabari only kept moving by will alone. There was nothing Jim could have done to save him.

But it didn't stop the survivor from feeling hallow. The only thing he could think of was those eyes. Why would Jabari look at him like that? Why sacrifice himself for him? Jim couldn't understand, didn't want to understand. What about him was worth saving?

"Only you would make a victory feel like a loss," he whispered, whipping the blood and tears off his face. "So fuck you." He hadn't cried over one specific death since Joanna, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it. His pillar, his rock, was gone. He didn't know how he was going to be a good leader without him. He had thought he was one kid taking on the world, but he had been wrong. There had been two.

Standing up, he made his way back to camp. If he closed himself off from everyone, wouldn't talk outside clipped tones, didn't say anything when one of the young child died of starvation the night before, if Jim was overprotective to the point of obsession, no one commented. He moved on autopilot and didn't let anyone support him or come near him again.

Two days after the burning of the mansion, two days after Jabari's death, help finally arrived.

Review. Please. They are my life water.

Oh and Merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate the holiday . . . happy winter/summer vacation days.