Chapter 5: The Brigade of One

The house creeks and cracks and shifts at night and in the early hours of the day. It doesn't hum or whirl like his ship used to do when he laid down for the sleep cycle they called night time. Air sweeps in through the sides of the old house from poor insulation and lack of upkeep on this side of the house. The way it creaks and tremors every once in a while makes Jim jerk in surprise before settling back down and staring at the stained ceiling. It's cold in his room, the wind puncturing his wall on one side and forcing its way through. Jim lays under his blankets cocooned in the quilt he used to quiver under when he was younger. The one he'd used as a shield when he had come back from Tarsus and didn't want to face the world. The quilt was warn but not threadbare, it could still keep him warm when the night air swept into his room.

Jim closed his eyes slowly trying to force sleep to take him. It never used to be this hard to turn his brain off, to silence the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He used to have it down to a science where he'd just shut down, force his mind not to think. It's how he'd survived the time after Tarsus or when Frank got smashed and came home rip roaring drunk. He would imagine his body being encased with warm lava that didn't burn but slowed him down creeping down each and every vein and slithering from toes to fingers until it reached his forehead.

At first he'd tried thinking of himself falling down into darkness slowly, letting the cool depths sooth away any lingering pain or pressing matters. But then the Narada happened and a slow decent became a plummet and darkness became the surface of Vulcan and Jim would gasp, jerking up with a heart beating too fast and a body covered in sweat, shaking and grabbing out for Sulu because no, no he couldn't let him die. He would not let this man die. No… No.

Enterprise. Enterprise. Where are you? Enterprise...? Please!

Jim bucks up hard enough to shake the bed. His heart pounds roughly as sweat beads his face. He hadn't realized he'd actually managed to doze off. Turning his head, Jim looks at the chrono beside his bed with blurry eyes. It reads 6:37am and Jim just stares thinking of how he'd only managed to close his eyes an hour ago.

Sighing deeply, Jim rubs at his eyes wishing that he could get back to sleep but at the same time praying he doesn't. It's been like this since he got off the Jefferson. Every time he closes his eyes he sees something, has a nightmare that forces his eyes open or makes him want to throw up.

It had been almost three weeks since he had left the Enterprise and his friends. Three weeks of solitude only briefly broken by yelling matches with Frank over stupid things. Although Jim had yet the see the man stumbling around the house drunk as he used to before he left for Starfleet Jim is still weary of him. Jim just shifts around the house quietly, when he thinks the older man isn't home or knows he is out in the fields working. The farm wasn't just something pretty to look at after all, it was actual working land.

Jim only leaves his room when he needs to and even then he's quiet, using light steps almost like he didn't want to disturb the sleeping ghosts that hide in the darkest corners of the old farmhouse.

The times he has needed to go down the creaky steps and towards the kitchen were tense and awkward. Three times Frank had been sitting at the table reading the paper or smoking a cigarette and twice Jim dared to comment on smoking inside the house. It was such a barbaric thing mostly eradicated after the late 2050's but most importantly it messed with Jim's allergies. The smoke choked his lungs, made his tongue swell to the point that it made it hard to breathe or close his mouth. His many allergies had always been bad but after... after Tarsus his already messed up body went crazy creating new things he was allergic to and rejected with vigor.

After grumbling to himself about the cigarette smoldering between Franks thick fingers the man had thrown it across the room and yelled. Jim had easily dodged the offensive thing and didn't say anything else. That was a week and a half ago, that was also the last time Jim actually had something sustainable to eat. For the first few days his stomach had growled and protested but then it had stopped. He wasn't hungry anymore.

His days were spent either in his room or out in the barn. He did anything he could to stay away from Frank. He had to be here and if Frank kicked him out them. Well, he didn't have anywhere else to go.

The thought had crossed his mind when he sat on his bunk on the USS Jefferson on the way to earth that he could go anywhere he wanted to, do anything he wanted to do. All the places he'd ever want to travel were open for him to explore. But with what money? Where would he go? And the last thought that always crossed Jim's mind was the simple fact that there was no place on earth he wanted to go. All the places he wanted to explore involved a shiny ship, a loyal crew and a less than enthusiastic chief medical officer.

San Francisco was where his 'Fleet supplied apartment was but he didn't want to go there. Too many memories, too big a chance for someone he knew to come knocking on his door asking questions he couldn't answer. He also didn't have many credits. When he's become Captain he'd signed the PADD that entitled him to only receive his credits at the end of every tour with the only deviation being if he requested to have a small amount put on a chip for an upcoming shore leave. Jim had made it this way so that he wouldn't have to deal with the credits until he was back on earth. Most away missions were diplomatic anyway, he didn't have much need for credit chips to be laying around his quarters or stuffed in his pocket where he would most likely lose them. Jim had always been bad at that, losing the chips that were in his pocket. The small rectangles attached to his bank account just had a way of slipping from his pants pocket without warning.

He'd left the Enterprise with nothing other than a duffle bag and a broken heart. The money he did have would've been locked down tight as soon as they'd received his resignation. It would not be touched until he contacted Starfleet headquarters himself and told them where to forward the money to. When Jim had gotten off of the Jefferson that had been last thing he'd wanted to do. With how bad his odds normally were Jim would go to comm HQ and somehow end up getting into direct contact with Admiral Pike.

Jim shuttered thinking of Pike's face, how disappointed he most likely is right now. How confused he is because why? It would've made no sense for Jim to have fought so hard for the Enterprise to just get up and leave. Resigning not only from being a Captain but also all of Starfleet.

"Four years? I'll do it in three."

So cocky, so on top of the world. So confident that there was nothing he couldn't do and no one he couldn't beat. There was no such thing as a no win scenario. But that was before all this. Before Bones and evil aliens with names he could barely pronounce. That was before he knew how it felt to have someone care for him not because they had to or because he was thrust upon them and they were told to take care of him but someone who cared for him without anything in return. It was strange, Jim had often thought, the way Bones would groan and mumble and curse Jim seven ways from Sunday every time he came back to their dorm stumbling drunk or bleeding. He would stare at him for only a second before grabbing his personal medkit from under his bed and fixing Jim up the best he could.

The first time Bones had fixed up a broken part of his body had been after a bar brawl gone bad. Jim had tried to hide his obviously broken wrist as he slithered into their shared dorm room well after any normal person would be asleep. He had almost made it to his welcoming bed intent on just sleeping everything off and dealing with it in the morning like he had been doing when Bones said his name making him jump then hiss as he accidently jarred his arm. Hearing Jim's distress Bones had gotten up out of bed and ordered him to sit at their small table. The older man had been hesitant, as if he didn't want to touch Jim too roughly or handle him the wrong way with prodding fingers. After a few minutes of the older man using too gentle fingers on his wrist that was three sizes too big Jim had snapped still a little drunk but now that he was off the high of the fight he could feel every ache and pain radiate and pulse through his abused body.

"What the fuck man just fix it and let's get to bed."

Bones – Leonard as he insisted to be called even though they had been roommates for a semester already he still refused his nickname – was startled by the hot tempered voice and ended up dropping Jim's hand to the table. Jim tried to bite back a yelp but failed miserably.

"I'm sorry-I... I just haven't..." The man turned away pretending to look at the tools in his medkit with eyes that had suddenly become misty. Jim sobered immediately realizing the look in Bones' eyes as the one his mother often held.

"What is it?" He asked lightly not sure he wanted an answer.

"Nothing." Was the quick and automatic reply but Jim wouldn't let Bones off the hook that easily. They didn't call him James T. Pain-In-The-Ass Kirk for nothing.

Jim reached forward without hesitation and placed his hand on his friend's arm lightly.

"Leonard," he said surprising the man so much he flicked his head to him. "What's wrong?"

Bones licked his lip then ran a shaking hand through his messy bed head hair. He spoke quietly, "I don't usually work on people I care about, Jim. I never... Not after my Daddy..."

Staying quiet Jim's eyes never left Bones' and in turn Bones didn't turn away for a long moment. When he finally did was when he spoke again.

"I killed my Daddy, Jim."

Normal people would have jerked away, stood up, demanded him to explain or backed away like he was a murderer. But Jim wasn't most people. He too had seen death and he had felt the blood of another's on his hands dry and flake away in patches. He too had demons and skeletons in his closet but this wasn't his time, it was Bones' time. So Jim just sat in silence and listened.

Bones spoke fast and quietly all the while going through the motions of fixing Jim's wrist. He told a story of an older man stricken by illness slowly rotting away in a too white hospital room. He told of a younger man who had gone through medical school and had his own practice and for all intents and purposes should have been able to stop the spread of the disease before it claimed the man. But it was no so and every day that young man, that son had to watch his father get thinner and sicker until the man told him it was okay. He said that he didn't want to put his Mamma or him through this anymore. He said that he had found peace and that it was okay...

It is okay Leonard.

And a few days later that man's life support was shut down and surrounded by his son and old wife he slipped away peacefully into an unknown.

It was only three months later a cure was found and three months and one day after the son helped kill his father that son turned to the bottle and vowed never to touch anyone he cared for with the hands the murdered the father he loved.

When Bones had finished his story he was in tears but not sobbing as Jim would have expected any lesser man would have been. Jim just nodded showing that he had heard yet didn't say anything just yet. He treated the man, the son, as he would want to be treated if he ever told his sort of Tarsus IV. After a silence that stretched just long enough Jim finally said softly.

"I trust you Bones. I trust you."

Bones just stared at him before his head fell into his hands and he cried in what must have been the first time. Jim stood up and came around the table until he was in front of Bones then he got down on his knee and hugged the man in every way he wished his mother would have hugged him when he cried.

It was then that Jim realized something. Bones cared for him and he wasn't used to that. He didn't need to show off his body or sleep with him or offer any favors. All he did was listen to the man and care for him. Jim's heart warmed at the thought of actually having someone who cared for him. Of actually having a friend...

Tears stung at Jim's eyes but he bit them back. No more crying. It didn't matter that he had left all of the people he had ever been friends with back on his beautiful ship. It didn't matter that everything he had fought so hard for and loved was still exploring through space, the great unknown, without him. What mattered was that they were safe. They were safe if he wasn't there. Bones was safe without him there. Everyone was safe without him there. They had probably already promoted Spock to Captain and Sulu to First Officer, Jim knew that man would get his own ship one day and this was just helping him get it faster.

Everything was fine. Everyone was happy.

Everyone but Jim…

Jim shook his head and stood from his bed. It didn't matter if he wasn't happy, all that mattered was his crew, his friends.

Jim walked to his bathroom shedding his clothes as he did. He felt numb and he watched as his hand turned on the shower and his feet stepped under the water without his mind really understanding what was going on. He took a long time in the shower, more time than he had ever taken actually. After a while his knees started to tremble and he felt himself falling against the slick side of the shower wall. Almost like it was in slow motion Jim could feel himself being lowered to the wet ground of the shower. He let the water wash over his body until the heat ran out and he was left sitting under the cold spray shivering but not wanting to get out. His hands were shaking hard by the time the water finally shut off and from far away a deep voice was yelling but Jim couldn't understand it. It sounded like Frank and an unconscious part of Jim told him he should be scared but he wasn't. He was numb.

So he sat there, shivering, freezing and he couldn't understand why he couldn't move his body but he honestly didn't care.

His crew didn't need him. They were fine without him.

From somewhere there was a banging as if someone was right at his bathroom door but… but that wasn't right. It couldn't have been right. No one wanted Jim here so there couldn't have been anyone wanting to get his attention because no one cared about him, not here, not anywhere. The ghosts don't even care about him here in this damning farmhouse that never really was his home.

His stomach growled but Jim ignored it just like he had been doing for two weeks. His stomach begged him to eat by the way it felt like monsters were kicking his insides but his mind told him he wasn't hungry, so he didn't eat.

Jim sat staring at the wall but not seeing it. Again there was a violent banging from the bathroom door but Jim barely heard it. The edges of his vision were going dark as his body shook and shivered.

"You do what I say or I kill your best friend."

That voice was Bones but everything about it was wrong and it made Jim's heart clench until it hurt. He could feel his heart beating, pounding, in his chest but he didn't care. A heartbeat meant he was still alive but maybe… maybe he didn't want to be. What could he do now? He had no ship, no commission, no friends, no… Bones. There was no one who cared for him and he was nothing. Nothing.

"My dad died on a starship…"

Jim couldn't breathe but he didn't care. He couldn't drag any breath into his body but what was the point? He was nothing now. He had nothing.

"Goodbye Captain Kirk!"

The pounding on the door finally stopped and Jim felt relieved. Distantly he heard the sound of someone forcing their way into the small room. The door crashed open with old pieces of wood splintering off to the sides. Someone walked briskly over to him with a red face and dirty hands as if theyhad been working out in the fields. A face came into Jim's swimming vision. The face was angry and making loud sounds that Jim couldn't understand. The man, for it was a man with a hard face who looked so familiar but Jim couldn't place him put a hand on his wet shoulder and Jim realized he was still naked, but he didn't care. His body hurt, he could feel himself shaking.

Frank. It was Frank that leaned over him, Jim's muddy mind supplied but that couldn't be right. The man – Frank? – looked frightened and Frank never looked frightened.

The last thing Jim saw before he succumbed to the darkness pulling at him was the man pulling out a comm from his pocket and hurriedly dialing a number as he leaned over Jim's trembling body.

Then everything went black and he felt peace.

Apologies for taking so long to update. School and all that. Hope you enjoyed this update there's more to come!