Not mine. Don't own. Slash. Drama. There is no update schedule, but it will be finished by the end of August.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a long goddamn day. Of all the days to have to pull a double shift. All Leonard wanted was to crawl into bed, but he had to shower then track down the kid. Keep him from doing something stupid.

His door slid open, sounding like paper sliding against paper, which was not reassuring in the least. His room was dark and cool, and he was so tempted to just pass out under crisp sheets. But the Kid; the news was all over Starfleet.

Damn Winona Kirk.

"Lights. Thirty percent." He dropped his messenger bag next to the door and toed off his shoes. Didn't matter how comfy the shoes, after that many hours on his feet, they became a little purgatory. He wiggled his feet a bit then stripped off his socks, sighing in relief before walking further into the room.

He was shelling his jacket when he saw Jim. The kid was curled up on Leonard's crappy sofa, knees to chest, still in this morning's uniform. Len had wondered if he was asleep at first, but no, he was just staring at the wall opposite him.

"Hey."

Jim looked up, and for once he couldn't figure out what the kid was thinking. His face was like a doll. A tabula rasa.

"Hey."

Leonard had been prepared for a lot of shit. Shit he knew how to deal with. Swearing, fighting, drinking, whoring- those were tangible things that he could easily wrap his brain around, he could pin em down like a bug under glass and study them until he just knew. But this.

He'd never seen the kid like this before. It was new territory.

"I was gonna come find you, but then there was-"

An accident, he almost said, but caught himself just in time. Kid didn't need to hear it. "I had to work overtime. Ah hell, Jim. I heard what happened. And I'm sorry 'bout your momma. You could have told me. I'd have called in."

Jim clasped his hands in front of himself and started examining his knuckles. "Yeah."

Leonard tossed his jacket to the side and sat down on the bed, opposite Jim. "When did you find out?"

"Last night. My brother," He exhaled a large breath, "Sam, he called me. About three."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

Jim chuckled, sounding like grit on metal. "Well, most days he doesn't claim me. I'm sure you can imagine why." He tried to smile his regular cocksure grin, but it was a ghastly parody of itself. He must have realized it, because the smile died, and his Adam's apple worked in his throat as he looked down again.

"Nope. Can't imagine it. Must be a damn fool."

"No. Sam- he's a good guy. Fucking brilliant. He just finished up a doctorate in biology and he's doing some amazing research; probably going to go off world. And he's getting married." Jim just hugged his legs harder. "I haven't met her. Obviously. But I looked her up and she's just like him, crazy intelligent, and beautiful." He paused as his teeth worried his lower lip. "He deserves that."

"Are you going to." Leonard gestured with his hand, not even sure himself if he was trying to indicate flying or Iowa or what.

"Um. No. No, there wasn't really." Jim's face collapsed for a moment, but then he recovered. "Uh. No real body. Just a service. It wouldn't be very comfortable for everyone else. There's a service here too. In two days." He knocked his head against the wall, gently. "I'll go to that one."

"I'll go with you."

"Thanks." The word was small and tight.

"Did you make any of your other classes today? I can get you notes for one of 'em. Got a class with N'Bocote in your logistics class."

Jim shook his head.

"Did you eat?"

Another head shake. Leonard got up and rummaged around his desk for a minute before returning to press an energy bar into Jim's hand.

"Eat it. It's good, not like those ass-flavored protein nibs."

Jim peeled the crinkly plastic away from the bar and tore off chunk after chunk to pop in his mouth. This easy obedience was completely at odds with his usual behavior, and it made Leonard want to hit something.

"I'm sure they'll take this into account. The Kobayashi Maru, I mean. Jackasses. They should have rescheduled."

If Leonard hadn't been watching Jim so hard, he might have missed the way Jim flinched, but there was no way he would have missed the way his muscles suddenly coiled up.

"Jim. Did you speak to Pike about it?"

The sound the kid made was strangled. Half laugh, half something wretched and fractured.

"Oh." God fucking damn Pike, too. "Oh hell."

Jim just nodded quickly, curling the supplement wrapper in his fist. "I fucked up Bones. I fucking fucked up. No surprises there, really, but it was a huge fuck up. And it's been a fuck up since before I can remember." He closed his eyes and listed to the side, finally settling into the sofa and curling himself into the smallest ball possible. His forehead was pressed to his knees, muffling his words. "Just never fucked up this badly before."

Bones was no good at this comforting shit. He felt out of his depth as he reached over and stroked Jim's elbow.

"I know it looks bad now, but tomorrow might give it some perspective. Jeezus, Jim, you just lost your mom. He ain't gonna hold it against you."

When Jim laughed, Leonard gave a start and pulled away in surprise.

"Fucking A right he isn't. He already held it against me." The double entendre was inappropriate and horrible and did something to Len's insides.

Jim laughed again and started to rock. And the rocking made Leonard a bit sick, a bit like throwing the fuck up, because he suddenly realized that this thing he thought he had a handle on; he didn't have a handle on it at all.

"He comes near me at all I'm going to rip his fucking dick off." Jim was peering at him, face red at being curled up so tightly, fierce and meaning it at that moment. "My fuck up wasn't today. It was talking to him and falling for his line of shit in the first place." His eyes dodged Leonard's before he added, "I shouldn't even fucking be here. Shouldn't have joined. Played me like a sucker, you know?" One cheek drew up in a grimace. "The hustler got himself hustled."

Missing too much information, too little to go on, not enough to give Jim whatever Jim needed, so he took up his hand once again. No squeezing or stroking, just a human connection to help ground him. Jim took the offered hand and twisted them until his was dominant.

"It'd be stupid to regret it though. I found my only friend on that stupid shuttle."

Getting choked up was just not something McCoy did. Not during his wedding. Maybe a little when his daughter was born, but that had been an expected, anticipated event, not this raw baring of soul from the most emotionally constipated person he had ever met.

Jocelyn had once accused him of collecting broken things because he liked to mend, ever the doctor. Small electronics, splintered wood furniture, even a bird's wing. He found himself hoping, praying even, that this was one broken thing that was finally purged enough, raw enough, to start healing.

He didn't know how to put that into words that didn't sound stupid and like a fucking girl, so he settled on, "I'm gonna kick Pike's ass."

Jim's smile was in his eyes, but Len could tell when he was being humored. "Sure."

"You want a drink?"

Kirk hesitated. "No."

"Ok. Just lemme know." Which encompassed a whole hell of a lot, but that's what he meant.

They lay like that for a while until Jim's eyes fluttered shut and his breathing evened out, body slowly uncurling. Leonard stood up and stripped the blanket from the bed, draping it over Jim then stripped down to his boxer briefs and slipped into his bed. He dimmed the lights but couldn't sleep immediately. His mind kept getting tied up in different scenarios, different what-ifs.

Jim should be out getting hammered in some shit-hole bar in an attempt to bleed or fuck the pain away. Typical Jim SNAFU shit. Instead, he was walking wounded, bleeding out on McCoy's sofa even though there was no visible mark and not a damn thing Len could do to make it better.

God damn Pike. What the fuck had he done? How had he fucked him up so badly?

And better yet, could the bastard fix it?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chris hadn't had a hangover in years. When he drank, if he drank, he generally remembered to stay hydrated and didn't over do it. But this morning. Afternoon? Was horrible, but not really unexpected. He had done his best to kill his liver, but the pounding in his head still couldn't drown out everything else that was crowding it too.

Soft sheets were thrown to the side as he lurched onto unsteady feet and shuffled, naked and goose-fleshed into his bathroom. There was a distant pounding at the front door that matched the one behind his eyes, but he had a toilet to hug that took precedence over everything else.

After twenty minutes of vomiting up his stomach lining with the usual acidic bile, he rinsed his mouth and hit his teeth with a sonic cleanser, gripping the subway tiles of the counter with unsteady hands. A face full of cold water helped remove the sleep from his eyes, but there was no way he could face removing stubble right now.

There was still pounding at the door, despite the fact that he had told Stephen he wouldn't be available, so he quickly wrestled into a pair of jeans and padded down the two flights of stairs, pausing once or twice when he felt like he might overbalance. Just what he needed. Rug burn from a berber carpet and breaking his fucking neck.

Fuck. He loved his townhome, but it wasn't very convenient, post-drinking binge.

"Shut up. I'm coming."

The pounding ceased, but Chris could make out a figure through the smoked glass of the front door. Maybe he was too sick, or just too apathetic to care about rudimentary safety, but he threw caution to the wind and wrenched the door open, letting in eye-curdling sunlight.

He barely had time to register who it was before his head snapped back and his jaw exploded with pain.

His knees hit the tile with a crack as he went down, turning so he could dry heave. He was pushed along the floor by a boot, just enough to allow the door to close. As he coughed up a thin line of saliva the same boots made their way around him, out of the narrow foyer and into the open-plan living area partitioned off by sofas and bookshelves.

"Shit."

McCoy stopped in front of the fire place, flanked by two Haida totems, before he turned, hands resting on his hips. "The boy's mom just died and you couldn't keep your pecker in yer pants for one more goddamn day? Do YOU need another psych eval? I thought Captains were supposed to be smart. Or did you get here by correspondence course and pretty eyes?"

Pike chose to stay down, mostly due to necessity. He braced his back against the doorframe and drew his knees up. His vision was still a bit fuzzy, so he rested his head against the frame as well.

"Fuck. I know. I didn't find out until after."

"Don't give me that shit. I told you not to do it and you did it anyway."

Pike grunted.

"And that boy wasn't just running scared. That boy had some hurt put on him. What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't know!" God, he wished he was feeling up for this conversation. He thought he'd have more time. His articulation was shot to hell along with his motor skills, and now his jaw fucking hurt. Doctor had been working out. "He's been after me since he signed on, and I thought he was trying to get a leg up on the competition. Even though he doesn't need it."

"You're a moron. Jim thinks you hung the moon and built the starship to get there."

Pike could feel more bile coming up. "Not anymore."

"What did you do?" McCoy had gotten quieter, and his quiet was inversely proportionate to how dangerous he sounded.

"I thought." No, Chris, you didn't fucking think. "I thought he was trying to get me to." He shook his head, and that was a bad idea. "I don't know. He had performed badly in the Kobayashi Maru. And then he showed up in my office with his tongue down my throat. What the hell was I supposed to think!" His eyes squeezed shut on the moisture he could feel gathering in the corners. McCoy sounded like he was moving around, but Pike couldn't be assed to care much about what he was doing.

"And your dick just accidentally slipped into him?"

"I know! Christ. I know."

"Naw. I don't know that you do. The kid is almost obsessed stalker over you and you think he wants an A turned into an A plus? You're dumber than a post."

Pike just nodded. "I- said some things."

"Really."

"While we were," He coughed. "Ah. In the middle of everything."

"So you treated him like a whore. While you fucked him. After his mom died."

Oh god. "Yes." He could feel McCoy's eyes on him, angry and crazy, and suddenly he wished he had a friend like McCoy. "And then after. He asked for a transfer, and I was just so pissed. I brought up his family. Well, he brought it up. I taunted him into it." A spring had been wound too tight in his gut, and was just waiting to unspool and take him with it, but the silence that began to stretch was unnerving, ticking into one minute, then two.

"Ya know, I used to think the boy was crazy cause of his thing for you and how fuckin' emotionally retarded he was. But now that I know you're an even bigger asshole than Jim, I'm pretty sure you're soul mates." McCoy hunkered down next to him. " Too bad you fucked that all to hell. I practically told you that you didn't have the option of just fucking him. Same damn reason I haven't taken him up on it. Now you put that in your fancy captain's hat and smoke it."

"You know what? To hell with you. You could have told me a lot more than you did, so I wouldn't be flying blind."

"Don't blame me because you're an ass who can't take a hint."

"Why didn't you fucking tell me? That was need-to-know information."

"Tell you what?"

"Tarsus."

"What." Suddenly, he pitched forward, grabbing Chris' wrist in a big hand, squeezing so hard he could feel bone grinding against bone. "What the fuck do you mean?"

For the second day in a row, Pike felt that sinking feeling in his gut. A feeling everyone in command became acquainted with at one time or another. It was usually accompanied by bodies, and memorials. It was the same feeling they tried to achieve through the Kobayashi Maru.

And here was his.

"You didn't know?"

"Tarsus? Did he tell you that? Or are you pulling it out of your ass?"

"He told me. It was," he tried to think of a descriptor, but failed. "Bad."

"Bad? Do you know what the suicide rate for Tarsus IV survivors is? Do you know how many of them are permanently hospitalized? " McCoy grabbed him by the shoulder and shook. " I've worked with a few of them before and almost lost my lunch. They cannibalized the ones they killed."

It was nothing Pike hadn't told himself.

McCoy suddenly stood up. "Transfer him. Now. He wants to graduate in three. Let him do it. I don't care what you have to do to get it done, but I don't want him anywhere near you."

Pike rolled his head up to look at McCoy. "It isn't that easy."

"It is if you want it to be."

"The kid hates Starfleet."

McCoy snorted. "Don't blame him. I'm not thinking much of it right now, myself. "

Pike winced as McCoy poked him with the toe of his boot. "You're misunderstanding me. He hates Starfleet. He's totally compromised." He met McCoy's eyes with total seriousness. "Unfit for command."

He kept his eyes on McCoy even as the doctor's frown turned into a snarl of contempt. "Oh no. No you don't. You are not taking that away from him. He is good at what he does. He's driven. He might not be doing it for Starfleet, but I know Jim enough to know he will do it for himself. He's functional." He flexed one hand, and Pike braced himself for another hit, but it didn't come.

"You aren't going to say shit, because if you do I'm going to have you nailed to a fucking wall over fucking a cadet." McCoy smirked. "And not just any cadet. His credit is pretty high right now. Son of George Kirk. Mom just died. Goddamn brilliant and sells a story like a con man. Who do you think they'll believe? Even if you drop the Tarsus bomb, do you think he's too broken to turn that to his advantage? I'll have it in all the papers. The public would eat it up while they bury you."

Pike sagged against the wall.

"You wanna keep that pretty new Starship of yours, don't you? So give the kid his command and stay far away from him."

"It's unethical."

"Pot. Kettle. You sack of shit."

Pike stood up, slowly, leaning against the wall for leverage as he did so. "I could make life very difficult for you, too. I could have you assigned to a tin can in deep space."

"Oh, who's a big man? Does this look like the face of someone who gives a shit? Besides. You're dumb, but not that dumb. Now that you fucked the kid all up I don't think you're gonna compound the problem by taking away the only thing he wants and the only person he has left." Bone's appraisal was frank. "Unless, a'course, you've got the most pain-filled pussy in the fleet."

McCoy stabbed him with the toe of his boot once more, before turning to leave. "I'm late for my shift. If you'll excuse me, I've got something more interesting to see to. Deltan crotch rot."