"I don't think I can do this anymore."
He and McCoy were looking out over the nebula's halo. It writhed and churned, offering no way out and promising to imprison them in its heart like an obsessed lover until they'd all withered into dust.
"Do what?"
"This thing where I have two of me. It's like I react to everything twice, and see everything twice, and know more than I should. I can't do it anymore."
"What choice do you have?" McCoy asked it like it was an academic curiosity.
"There's always a choice."
"Like what, killing one of you?"
"Like having Kevin and Spock find a way to fix it."
"Would there be any of you left then?" McCoy tilted his head. "Aren't you defined by how broken you are?"
He turned to look at McCoy, stunned, and shuddered as he came to a realization. He took several faltering steps back. "Maybe it's time for me to stop being broken."
"What's this-Jim Kirk, trying to turn over a new leaf?" The shade of his friend had a demeanor which was predatory in the extreme, and he wondered how he could have mistaken it for McCoy for even a second.
It started stalking towards him. He knew he should turn and run, but he was afraid to take his eyes off it, so he kept backing away as fast as he dared. "I'm just trying to salvage my sanity."
"What sanity? You didn't have any to speak of before this-you had a facade you cobbled together for the sake of appearances. To trick people into accepting you." It flashed a smile at him that was all teeth. "You're just a too-smart, manic-depressive drunk that's only good for one thing."
The halo had gone dark, leaving the faint glow of the nebula's dying heart to cast them in monochromatic shades. Jim stopped, and his hands fisted tight enough that his nails cut into his palms. "That's not true. That's not who I am."
The shade kept coming closer. He made to back further away, and found he couldn't; something gripped his wrists and his feet and his neck, holding him immobile. He thought he saw the gleam of brass out of the corner of his eye.
"No? Then who are you? What are you?"
Panic and anger made his breath come short. "I'm James Kirk, the captain of the Enterprise."
"No you're not." It grabbed a fistful of his hair and wrenched his head to one side. His heart leapt into his throat, and though he wanted to shout at it, scream, anything at all, he couldn't produce a sound.
With McCoy's voice the shade hissed into his ear, "You are the Pilot."
Jim flinched awake in his chair on the shuttle, gripping the armrests. McCoy was on his feet and coming over to him on the instant; he stopped just short of reaching out.
"You alright?"
I don't think I can do this anymore.
"No," he found himself saying. "Not really."
At first McCoy looked taken aback by the admission, then his face set in grim lines. He sat back down and hung his hands between his knees. "Nightmares?"
Jim had to work to not lean away from McCoy. It wasn't his fault the nightmare had picked him for its face. "Yeah. And I'm...having trouble knowing what's me and what's not. Like I've got two of me looking out at the world, two of me making decisions."
"Two of you?"
From the front of the shuttle Uhura called, "Captain."
He gave McCoy a look which he hoped made clear his promise to continue the discussion at a better time. "Yeah?"
"We have visitors."
They joined Uhura up front and were greeted by the site of the viewscreen showing the General and his assistant approaching the shuttle. They stopped a polite distance away.
"Looks like we weren't the only ones who missed our ride," McCoy muttered.
His eyes never leaving the display, Jim asked Uhura, "Have you gotten any signals out through the halo?"
"I'm not really sure. The shuttle's subspace transmitter isn't very powerful."
He thought it over. "Their ship's might be."
McCoy blinked. "Wh-you're not actually thinking of asking them if we can use it, are you?"
"Don't need to. I'm pretty sure they're here to ask for Uhura's help with it." He looked askance at her. "Do you want to?"
She hesitated, then let her irritation show. "I don't like the idea of helping them with anything."
It hadn't occurred to him that she might be angry at them over what he'd been put through, and he was surprised at how reassuring that was, even if it wasn't useful. (He could hear Spock berating them both for letting emotion cloud their thinking, and despite their dire situation had to work to keep the smile off his face.) "Me neither. But if the Enterprise could still get to us, it would be here by now, and we haven't even heard from them. So I don't know that we've got much choice."
"There's always a choice."
His head was starting to hurt. "I'm just saying I won't order you to do it."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "You'd let me refuse to work with them even if that means we all grow old and die here?"
"I'm petty and vengeful and won't deny anyone else the chance to help me in my mission of pettiness and vengeance."
McCoy snorted a laugh. Uhura smiled, though it was sad, and looked back at the display. She sighed.
"I want to see Spock again a lot more than I don't want to help them."
Jim nodded. He looked at McCoy, who shrugged.
"I could go either way on that."
"Bones."
Uhura rolled her eyes.