Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.
WARNING. ....Torture. Genocide....Also, language. You read the first chapter, right. It's more of the same. Very dark. The fic will get lighter eventually, but for the next couple chapters, it's a way dark piece of fiction. If this is going to bother you, please don't read it.
This will remain Pike's POV. So he'll be the focal character. But there'll be plenty of Jim later. Pike is adopting him (eventually), after all.
For a moment, he was frozen, staring, but then Pike jolted himself to walk forward. He dropped to his knees in front of the youngster, obscuring the boy's vision of the bread. Finally, the child looked up.
He had the bluest eyes Pike had ever seen.
The kid was filthy. He was covered in blood, and God only knew what else.
Pike estimated the kid was maybe twelve. He wasn't sure. The boy was so emaciated; it was hard to tell his size.
"Hey," he said gently. "I'm Chris. We're gonna try and get you out of here." Pike wondered if the child spoke standard.
The boy didn't speak, but he did nod. So he did speak standard.
It was a start.
"I'm going to go get you out of these restraints, okay." Pike looked the boy in the face. He kept eye contact, speaking slowly and soothingly. He did not want to frighten the kid.
Pike could not shake the idea that the boy's eyes were familiar. Maybe it was just that the blue orbs were haunting. They were the eyes of someone much older than himself. Pike shuddered to think what they might have seen. He thought they might sear through his soul. He kept his movements slow and very deliberate, making sure the kid could see every move he made.
He looked over the child's wrists, which were torn and bloody from the chains. Pike wondered how long the boy he had been here, and for what reason had he been imprisoned?. Pike didn't dare try to cut the chains at the wrists; he was afraid of hurting the boy.
Pike pulled out his phaser and cut the chains off at the wall, to take the pressure off the boy's wrists. Then the kid at least has his arms free, but he did still have three feet lengths of chain attached to each arm. Pike phasered off the chains a link or two down from the kid's wrists so he wouldn't have to haul the chains around, and all that remained were the cuffs on the wrists. Pike didn't trust himself to remove those without further damaging the child's torn flesh.
"I'm sorry. I don't want to cut those off here, because I might hurt you. You understand?" He made eye contact with the boy as he spoke, wanting to guarantee that the child understood.
The boy nodded again. So quiet. So serious.
"I'm gonna check you over, that okay?" Pike was going do it even if the boy said no, but he figured it might go over better if he acted like the kid had a choice. Victims of trauma were known to recover faster when they felt like they had control over their lives and choices. But checking the child out was a matter of ascertaining his physical safety. Pike hoped he would agree, so he would not have to go around the kid's wishes. The boy nodded again.
Pike responded, "Ok, good." He kept himself at the child's eye level, making sure to never lean over the boy or to move into the child's space more than necessary.
He was not going to intimidate this child.
But the boy didn't act afraid.
Pike wasn't sure he could intimidate this kid.
"What's your name?" Pike asked.
"Jimmy." The boy spoke for the first time. Pike nodded.
"Hi, Jimmy." Jimmy nodded, but didn't smile or otherwise acknowledge his name. Starting with the boy's feet, Pike had him slowly move each part of his body, checking to see if the boy had any other injuries. He prayed that Jimmy wasn't feverish or hypo-thermic. He was also worried about the child going into shock. Pike was surprised, but pleased, to see that beyond the obvious extended starvation and whipping, there was nothing else apparently wrong with the kid.
Pike thanked the stars for small mercies. He wasn't sure he could handle much more than this.
Pike reached behind him to check the bread. He could not have risked giving it to the boy if Jimmy was going into shock. But Pike thought the kid might be okay to eat. The bread was fresh.
Oh God, was this a daily torture they had inflicted on him?
Pike's vision went red at the edges, and for a moment he couldn't see.
He forced himself to breathe.
His vision cleared and focused on the boy, who was still staring at him, wide-eyed. Only now Jimmy's attention was focused wholly on the bread that Pike was crushing in his hands.
Jimmy hadn't reached for it; he hadn't asked for it. He just watched it.
Pike ground his teeth at the thought of how often they must have tortured this kid. He ripped a small piece off the top of the loaf and handed it to Jimmy. "I know you're hungry, Jimmy, but try to eat it slow. Too much too fast will make you sick."
But the child hadn't stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, he'd torn a piece from the edge and was munching it slowly. "I know," the boy replied.
Pike ground his teeth together again.
No child should know that.
Pike looked over the kid. He was wearing shorts, but that was all. No shoes. Not that Pike wouldn't have trusted someone in his condition to walk anyway.
He waited until the boy had finished the small piece of bread, and then he said, "You ready to leave, Jimmy?"
Jimmy nodded, with small shy smile that graced his features for the first time. Pike could see that one of the boy's lips was split.
His blood boiled.
And then Pike saw it. He knew who those eyes reminded him of.
Oh holy fuck.
Please God, no.
He looked again, but the smile was gone from the boy's face. Jimmy looked again like the solemn, blank faced child he'd been when Pike walked in. But Pike was pretty damn sure of what he'd seen.
"Jimmy," he said, slowly, "What's your last name?"
"Kirk," the boy answered promptly but softly, not looking up.
Shit. Sweet mother of God.
He'd been right. Pike allowed his eyes to close and he bit his lips to keep from showing his reaction in front of Jimmy.
George's son.
Oh fuck. Just fuck.
Chris needed a moment.
"Jimmy, just sit there a second, okay? I'll be right back."
Jimmy nodded, munching. Despite his rage, Pike noticed the boy was still eating slowly. Damn. No child should ever eat that slow.
Damn it all.
Pike stalked into the hallway. His men, who had clustered around the door, scattered as they saw the expression on his face. He didn't blame them. He'd have run too if he'd have seen the expression he was wearing on his own face.
"Notify the captain that we've found a survivor, alert medical, and then go look for any other survivors. It's not gonna be pretty, so prepare yourselves," he snapped.
No one moved. Pike raised an eyebrow.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go!" They went.
When they were safely out of sight, Pike punched the wall. And again. And again.
His knuckles bled. He didn't care.
That was George's son. George Kirk's son.
Jim Kirk.
Oh god.
Pike forced himself to breathe. And breathe.
He composed himself, schooled his features, and went back into the cell.
He hid his hand behind his back.
"Okay, Jimmy buddy, you ready to go?"
Kirk nodded.
"I really don't want you to walk. How's about I give you a piggy back ride until I get someone else to check you out? That way you can eat some more, provided you do it slow, and also that way I can be careful of your back. I don't imagine you want me to touch it."
Jimmy didn't answer immediately. The look on his face went almost defiant, and then slowly he nodded his acquiescence.
Pike knelt before the boy again, and moved to be within Jimmy's reach. He wasn't going to pick the kid up. He was going to let Jimmy come to him. Pike could see the effort in every single movement the child made. Every single one of Jimmy's limbs was shaking with the effort of the movements. Small tremors wracked his tiny frame. Pike watched the child hide wince after wince. Pike was reminded of both George and himself as he watched the boy bite down on his lips to conceal the grimaces. Pike could not imagine what kind of pain the boy was in. Both physical and mental.
He knew better than to ask though. He remembered from one of his training classes that one should not ever pressure a child victim about revealing his experiences. One could listen, but only if the kid volunteered the information first. Any actual questioning needed to be done by a trained psychologist, both for the sake of the child, and for the sake of the evidence, especially in a case like this, where there could a be trial involved. Pike wondered if any lawyer in the galaxy would agree to represent Kodos. Humans had not seen genocide like this since the third world war, more than two centuries before. Pike fought a shudder as he thought about it.
He was not surprised by how little Kirk weighed. He was surprised by the kid's grip though. Whatever had happened, this kid wasn't broken. He still had spirit.
Jim Kirk probably had a long road to recovery ahead, but whatever else was involved, they had a start.
Ok, so I do some advocacy for domestic violence and sexual assault, and I'm not making up the stuff at about how to handle kids undergoing trauma. Be non-threatening. Eye level. Small words. And don't push. Just listen and believe them. It's more helpful than anything you can imagine. And if what they need is silence, then let it be quiet. It's about what they need after all.
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