A/N: So to make up for not posting these last two days, I will post two chapters today! And now there are only three chapters left! I'll get the other three posted ASAP, until then, please enjoy!

'Deep breaths.' Jim reminded himself, attempting to get his gasping lungs back under control. Honestly, he felt so ridiculous; he was hiding in the Klingon wing, back against a wall, head between his knees, sweaty hands clasped tightly behind his neck. Tarsus shouldn't even be an issue for him anymore. It had been just over a decade since he had stubbornly left the events of that planet far behind him. It almost seemed like a different lifetime.

But then that stupid project had to go and open old wounds with a vengeance, wounds he had believed to be long since healed.

Jim was surprised his normally acute senses didn't alert him to the fact that someone was approaching. He didn't even realize someone was next to him until their hand was on his shoulder and he was scrambling desperately to get away.

"Whoa, Jim, settle down."

It was the slight southern drawl to that voice which made Jim halt in his escape efforts. "Bones."

"Yeah."

"How'd you find me?"

"It wasn't that hard kid. I figured you would be in the most secluded area of the building. Either that or you'd been eaten by the dragon-cow thing," McCoy paused a moment, considering what he'd said, then corrected, "Beast."

Jim glanced towards McCoy but didn't meet the doctor's eyes. "You know as well as I do that those rumors have never been confirmed."

The two friends sank to the ground and sat in a companionable silence for a moment before Leonard decided to breech the topic of obvious discomfort. "You were there, weren't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" Jim scoffed, avoiding McCoy's sympathetic stare almost desperately.

"To everyone except Professor Krestridge I think."

"Great." Jim's sarcastic tone was muffled slightly by his hands as he attempted to hide his face from the entire world and all the problems it brought him.

"Honestly Jim, it's not even that big a deal. Most everyone is so amazed that you stood up to the old man- that's what they're talking about."

Jim's fingers parted slightly and he starred sadly at McCoy through the small slivers. "I just don't understand how we are supposed to defend that man as if it didn't even matter." Jim gasped suddenly, clamping his mouth shut tightly before his emotions could get away from him.

"I think everyone feels the same way Jim, it's just, no one else had the balls to blatantly disregard the assignment."

"I just don't understand." Jim's body sagged to lean against the wall, hands falling to rest by his sides, and for a moment McCoy wasn't certain he'd continue. "How could someone blithely execute four thousand people? As if their lives meant nothing."

"Hell Jim, I'm a doctor not a psychiatrist."

Jim laughed, a very wet, short laugh. But his shoulders shook and his eyes crinkled up at the sides and it was the first genuine laugh McCoy had heard in weeks. "A psychiatrist is a doctor Bones."

"Well it's a different type of doctor!" Leonard huffed good-naturedly. He paused a moment, glancing at his friend with a keen eye. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Jim's smile faded. "I thought you weren't a psychiatrist."

"I ain't. But I am your friend, and I'm here for you. If you want."

At first it appeared Jim was going to turn down his offer and remain adamantly silent when, finally, the man began talking. He spoke in barely more than a whisper but in the abandoned hallway he wasn't hard to hear.

"I was sent to live on the colony planet Tarsus IV when I was thirteen. I'd been getting into a lot of trouble at home. Mom was sick of the calls she kept receiving while she was across the galaxy. She told me she'd run out of options, she didn't know what else she could do." Jim stared determinedly at the wall ahead of him, his voice tinged with bitter resentment and his jaw flexing with repressed frustration. However, McCoy knew not to breech the topic of Jim's mother with a ten foot pole.

"At first it was great. For the first time in my life I was out from under the shadow my father's legacy had cast. There were no predetermined assumptions of who I should be or what I would become. The friends I made, they didn't care. They knew me as J.T, the new transfer kid from Earth." A smile ghosted its way across Jim's face, his eyes softening ever so slightly and McCoy could tell simply by looking that Jim's mind was elsewhere. "My aunt and uncle owned a little patch of farmland right on the outskirts of town. I enjoyed exploring the forested land that surrounded the colony." Jim's eyes suddenly darkened and McCoy knew what he was about to hear would not be pleasant, but they had long since passed the point of no return and even if he could turn back he wouldn't. Leonard knew Jim needed to talk about what had happened, even if the kid didn't want to admit it.

"Then the fungus came. My aunt and uncle tried to hide the problem from us kids at first but, I could tell something was wrong. From the hushed conversations and fear filled glances. Then, finally, the council told us. An unknown species of fungus had attacked and killed most of our food. Until Star Fleet brought more provisions we would be living off rations. People weren't happy, they felt helpless and they were scared. There was a lot of political unrest; certain council members didn't agree with the way the food was being distributed throughout the colony." Jim shifted his position slightly, subconsciously scooting closer to the safety and warmth emanating off McCoy's body. "Then one night we were awoken by the sound of phaser blasts and shouting from town. When things quieted down we left to see what had happened. It was the dead of night, and a lot of the lights weren't working, but we could tell the whole colony had gathered in the square. The flag the council had made was engulfed in flames and there was a figure standing in the shadows on the balcony. His voice, I will never forget."

Jim shuddered involuntarily and McCoy resisted the urge to wrap an arm around his shoulder comfortingly. Jim didn't need comfort just then, he needed an avid audience, someone to understand what he had been through without judging or interrupting. So that was exactly what McCoy would give him.

"'The revolution is successful.' That's what he said. Of course, curious thirteen-year-old me was not the type to wait around patiently."

McCoy smiled solemnly at that, "Of course."

"I snuck away from my aunt and uncle to try and find out more about what was going on. I got real close to the balcony, I could actually see his face in the flickering fire light. He looked so- uncaring. Like everything he was doing wasn't even worth the energy it takes to look remorseful. One of his men began reading off names and house numbers, sending people home. The rest of us, those whose names hadn't been called, stayed in the square. We didn't really know why but, before we could really think about it he was talking again. 'The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered, signed Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV.' Then his followers opened fire on the crowd." There was no emotion in Jim's voice; he was just reciting facts.

McCoy really didn't want to push Jim any more but he couldn't leave the story there. "How'd you get out?"

"I hit the ground a second before the shooting started. Growing up with my uncle Frank I could- well I could usually tell just before shit hit the fan."

McCoy's knuckles cracked as his hands clenched into tight fists. Hearing Jim talk about his horror stories of living with his psycho uncle always caused his blood pressure to rise.

Jim shook his head, breaking away from whatever reverie had captured his attention so vividly. "Anyway, I made my way through the crowd on my hands and knees. I had to crawl over bodies of people I'd known and I couldn't even stop to pay them any respects. I was just trying to get away from the square but as I was escaping I saw a guard about to shoot this terrified little boy." A smile played its way across Jim's lips and his eyes softened once again. "Kevin. He was the sweetest, bravest little kid. Anyway I ended up tackling the guard, his phaser was knocked away and he hit his head real hard. I didn't stop to check if I killed him, I just grabbed Kevin and ran. I made him wait right by the edge of the forest, hidden in some shrubs, while I went back for more kids. We all hid in the woods, till Star Fleet finally came."

"How many were there?" Shock was layered across McCoy's voice. He'd known Tarsus was bad but the idea of a group of children fighting for survival in the forest was absolutely appalling.

"There were twenty-three of us at first. Only seventeen made it out."

"God Jim-"

"It's bad, I know." Jim interrupted, voice finally cracking under the intense emotions he had been fighting since they began the chapter. "But I was fine. Then we had this stupid project and Krestridge wanted us to defend that monster! After everything he'd done?"

"It's not fair." Leonard supplied after Jim remained silent for a beat too long.

"Damn right it's not." Jim sniffed, running a hand under his nose.

The two friends sat in a comfortable silence, not even counting the seconds as they ticked by. Jim sighed deeply and let his head fall against McCoy's shoulder with a slight thud. Neither of them said a word.

Then, finally, Jim's hushed, broken voice pierced the veil of silence that had encompassed the two friends.

"It was so weird, all those people just, gone." His head lazily lifted off McCoy's shoulder and fell against the wall in defeat. "Innocent people Bones, amazing, gifted, beautiful people. People I knew, some just in passing but others-" Jim's voice cracked as he attempted to bury his emotions with a darting glance and a soft cough.

"Hey." McCoy leaned over and gently nudged Jim with his shoulder. "It's okay to cry you know."

Jim nodded his head before letting it fall to rest on Leonard's shoulder again. It wasn't long before McCoy felt a warm moisture soak into the material of his casual black, Star Fleet issue shirt.

Then Jim's shoulders began to shake and the muffled sounds of his crying echoed down the abandoned Klingon wing.