Disclaimer: They aren't mine, and this is unbetaed. Sorry.

Warnings…just like before. Torture. Genocide. Language. It's a dark fic right now, will be fluffy later. We're getting nearer the fluffy. This chapter features the return of the indomitable James Tiberius Kirk.

Pike woke in pain. It was getting to be a frighteningly common occurrence. Every muscle in his body screamed at him as he tried to convince his wayward limbs to cooperate. He was face down, resting in a cramped position; his head rested upon something soft. His eyes were sticky. He blinked them slowly, staring at the white sheets beneath his hands.

Jim Kirk's chest rose and fell with a steady and reassuring rhythm.

Oh right.

He'd fallen asleep sitting vigil beside Jimmy.

The kid looked more peaceful than when Pike had last seen him, the previously tense features on the kid's face were relaxed, and he looked much younger than when Pike had seen him last. He was still lying partially on his side, partially on his stomach as Pike and Adamson had left him.

The boy was still on a respirator, and an IV, but he looked...better. There was some color to the boy's cheeks now, and his eyes were not quite as sunken. Jimmy still looked fragile though, to Pike's eyes, the boy was impossible frail and thin. The kid's fingers, seemed impossibly small, fisted in the blue covers of Winona's quilt. For the first time, since he'd met the kid, Pike thought Jimmy looked his age. He was what? All of twelve.

It was incredible for anyone who knew what the kid had accomplished.

Pike yawned and stretched. Every muscle and tendon cracked and popped as the lieutenant attempted to force his spine to straighten from the exaggerated crouch he'd been sleeping in.

Damn, he'd be feeling this later today.

But watching the kid, he wasn't sure he regretted it. Jimmy looked…relaxed, almost. It made Pike smile.

And while he knew it was fake, knew that the kid wasn't sleeping…for Christ's sake, he was unconscious…. Still it was a better looking unconscious than it had been this time yesterday. Maybe there was hope for the kid's recovery after all. Pike tried not to let himself think that. He was going to be devastated if Jimmy didn't wake up. Pike had admitted to himself yesterday just how deeply he was involved.

He'd thought about adopting the boy, for fuck's sake.

And yet, that didn't necessarily seem too stupid an idea in the light of day. Jimmy would need a guardian or he would be remanded to the care of the Federation. Pike didn't particularly like that idea.

He didn't like the options it would give Jimmy for a future. And he definitely didn't like the idea of Jimmy growing up in some cold sterile environment. This boy was too warm, too bright, and too brilliant for that. No Jimmy needed ...a family. Or something.

Pike wasn't sure he could provide the boy a family. But he could give him…something.

Jimmy could be his ... what? Son? Child? Adoptee? Damn, that last one sounded cold.

Pike sighed and put his head in hands. He thought he'd finished this circular argument yesterday.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and started up, only to come face to face with Dr. Adamson. "You present the appearance of a man with a problem."

Pike laughed. "You could say that doctor."

Adamson eyed their young charge. "He's important to you."

Pike sighed and nodded. "Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, but did not elaborate.

Adamson looked him up and down, critically, while raising an eyebrow.

Pike sighed again, and sat down. "My best friend… at the Academy…that's his son."

Adamson's eyebrows rose even higher.

Pike nodded again. "Yeah. I didn't know he was here, until…now."

"And where is your friend, that his son is here?" Adamson asked.

It wasn't possible. Did Adamson not know who Jimmy was? Everyone knew of George's sacrifice. They freaking celebrated his friend's death every year.

Maybe with all the commotion, Adamson hadn't ever been given his patient's name. But Jimmy had been in sickbay for nearly two weeks.

Well, they were all stressed.

Pike decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt. "Doc, that's James Kirk," Pike said, pointing at Jimmy. He put special emphasis on the last name.

"My God. I didn't realize." Adamson's eyes were huge in the dim light. "I knew his name was Jim, and I heard his last name, but…" The doctor trailed off.

"You didn't put it together?" Pike offered.

"Yeah." The doctor was looking at his patient in a whole new light, and Pike wasn't sure he liked it.

But even as he watched, the look of shock and hero-worship faded from the doctor's face to something more speculative. "Where is Mrs. Kirk?"

Pike sighed and sank even lower in his seat. "She's dead. She died some months ago. Radiation cancer."

The doctor sat down beside Pike. "Yeah, that's one of the few that modern medicine can't cure."

Pike nodded and put a hand over his eyes. "Yeah, I figured."

He felt the hand return to his shoulder. "Come with me, lieutenant. I believe this discussion would be better had over a glass of whiskey."

That was unusual. Pike hadn't even known the straight laced doctor drank alcohol.

"What discussion isn't?" Pike responded, a wry smile on his face.

They walked in relative silence the doctor's quarters, which were Spartan in the extreme. The only non regulation thing in the room was a small holo, of a woman Pike presumed to be the doctor's wife.

His interest in the photo did not go unnoticed. "Ah, yes, that's my wife, Arianna."

Pike nodded. He'd been right, then. She was pretty.

Adamson gestured at the small table in the corner. "Have a seat. I'll be just a minute."

Pike sat.

Adamson returned a few moments later with two glasses and a bottle of Scotch. Pike whistled when he saw it. It was the oldest looking bottle he'd ever seen. Clearly Adamson was a connoisseur. They weren't going to be drinking the cheap shit tonight.

"Scotch, a going away present from my wife." Adamson said.

Pike examined the bottle in awe. He'd never seen one this old before.

"So lieutenant…" Pike noticed that the doctor poured with a heavy hand. Well, anyone who shared this quality of whiskey could call him by his name.

"Chris, doctor. Call me Chris."

Adamson nodded. "John."

Pike raised his glass. "John."

Adamson smiled. "So Chris. Talk to me."

Pike sighed. "I don't know where to start."

"How about with how you want to keep the kid." Damn the doc was good.

Pike sighed. "Yeah." He didn't offer further details.

But Adamson just looked at him.

And somehow without realizing how it happened, Pike told the doctor everything. From meeting George to loving him as the brother Pike always wanted to meeting Winona and then being furiously jealous of his best friend, because Pike had wanted her also. He told the doctor about being best man at the wedding, and loving his friend and being happy for George while his heart was breaking on the inside. And he told about the first boy, George Samuel, about being asked to be the godfather and how devastated they all were when the child was stillborn. Pike talked about how painful it had been and how he'd taken a deep space mission to get away from all of it. Pike told Adamson about how he hadn't been around when George had died, and how he hadn't been there to support Winona…and how now…he really wished he had been. Pike told Adamson things he'd never told another living soul. He had never thought he'd be talking about all the guilt he'd been carrying around for all this time.

And then he told Adamson about finding Jimmy in the cell, and about all that had transpired after. He specially didn't tell the doctor about Jimmy knowing Kodos. He told about liking the kid for his spunk, and admiring him for his bravery. About coming to want the kid for more than whose child he was. And finally Pike told Adamson about his stupid, ill conceived idea about maybe, possibly, sort of, adopting the kid.

Maybe, sort of, possibly? Who are you kidding? His subconscious supplied a sarcastic commentary, as it always did when he drank.

Adamson didn't say much, for which Pike was grateful.

When he finished speaking, the doctor was quiet for a long while. "Well, that's quite a story, Chris."

Pike nodded. "I know."

"It must be hard to think that had you approached Winona after George's death, Jimmy would be yours already. And he never would have been here."

Damn. It hurt to hear it phrased like that. Pike put his head in hands.

"Yeah, it is," he responded. He didn't look up.

The doctor spoke again. "That's not your fault, Chris. Not at all."

Pike snorted his disbelief.

"Maybe you were meant to meet him now. You're both alone. Maybe you both need someone."

Pike still did not raise his head. "I don't know."

"For what it's worth, I believe he would accept your offer."

The hope that gripped his heart at those words was interminable. Pike cursed aloud. "I don't know that he would. If I tell the whole story, he'll probably blame me for being here."

"I do not think so, lieutenant. Jimmy has shown remarkable maturity since you met him. You should give him the chance to surprise you again."

Pike would have to think on that. He still wasn't sure about this idea.

He made his way to his quarters sometime later, a little bit worse worth for the wear. He wasn't nearly as drunk as he'd been the other evening, but he was definitely a little tipsy.

He was punching in the code to enter his room when he put his hand in his pocket and remembered the vid chips he'd put there yesterday. Pike pulled them out and looked at them. There were maybe a dozen.

Pike was very curious about them. Matt had told him these were special. Pike took one to his vid player and inserted the chip.

Ten seconds in, Pike felt guiltier than ever in his life. It was a fucking lullaby.

Winona's voice was low; she must have been an alto. She would never have made a professional singer, but Pike could see how, listening to it, if you knew the song was for you, she had had the most beautiful voice in the galaxy. His throat ached with the effort of holding in the tears. Pike didn't know the song, but it was quiet and soothing, and it spoke a love that would not, could not be denied.

"I'll be your candle on the water
My love for you will always burn
I know you're lost and drifting
But the clouds are lifting
Don't give up you'll have somewhere to turn

I'll be your candle on the water
'Till every wave is warm and bright
My soul is there beside you
Let this candle guide you
Soon you'll see a golden stream of light

A cold and friendless tide has found you
Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down
I'll paint a ray of hope around you
Circling in the air
Lighted by a prayer

I'll be your candle on the water
This flame inside of me will grow
Keep holding on you'll make it
Here's my hand so take it
Look for me reaching out to show
As sure as rivers flow
I'll never let you go
I'll never let you go
I'll never let you go..."

Pike could not deny the tears any longer. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. God, he missed her. He missed them both. His chest ached with the magnitude of the loss. Pike could see why Jimmy had risked his life to get this recording back. Pike would have done the same.

He wondered at the words. Had Winona known how prophetic they would be? Had she known somehow, what would happen to her son? Had she known that she was dying, and tried to leave her son some tangible reminder of her love? He wondered. Were the rest of the chips like this one? God, he couldn't take this. He pulled the chip out and set in a small pile with the rest of them, near to Jimmy's box.

He checked the time. It was 22:12. There was still time for him to wander down to sickbay and check the kid before he turned in for the evening.

He walked slowly, thinking about the recording he'd just heard. A lullaby. A damn lullaby. The kid really was just a child. For whatever else he had been, genius, teacher, leader, hero…he was just a child.

He had the same needs as any other kid. He just hid them better.

Pike shook his head.

He found sickbay little changed from his last visit. Jimmy was in the same position he'd been in when Pike had left with Adamson. That meant he was still unconscious. Pike settled into the chair beside the bed to watch the boy for a while.

He pondered the lullaby. It was so prophetic. Pike wanted to know how much Winona had known. A goddamn lullaby.

Jimmy had kept it under his pillow.

Just a child.

Almost unconsciously Pike leaned forward to caress the boy's hair. He looked so young. So frail. So damn thin.

Pike's heart broke to look at him, thinking of all that Jimmy had lost, wondering if anything could begin to make up for all the losses the boy had suffered in his life.

Would a guardian now really help anything?

Without realizing, Pike fell into a kind of moving meditative state, stroking the boy's hair as he pondered. He looked down to check his patient, and found himself looking into a pair of impossibly blue eyes.

So what do you think? He's finally awake! Hooray.

"You present the appearance of a man with a problem." Star Trek IV: the Voyage Home. With special thanks to ewientje for remembering that for me.

"Candle on the Water" is from Pete's Dragon. The copyright and lyrics belong to Disney. If you go to youtube, Candle on the Water-Pete's Dragon should get you there. Listen to it done by Helen Redding. It's worth it. Its about how I picture Winona sounding.

Jimmy's quilt... http://sewmamasew (dot) com/blog2/?p=352

Special author's note. Thanks for all the support/encouragement from last time. Since some of you have asked, I did know my "Jimmy" but I only met him at the hospital. The boy never regained consciousness. I'd never seen a kid look that bad before. His death kind of devastated me, and I really did consider deleting this, but I didn't, and you guys were really awesome. and I really could not have continued this fic without it. But like one of you said, this fiction allows me to change the ending of that story, and also...to get some word out that issues like this exist. So anyway, thanks.