Disclaimer: They aren't mine.

Warnings…just like before. Torture. Genocide. Language. It's a dark fic. But it will be getting lighter. And hooray! its another pretty fluffy chapter.

ALSO....This whole story in general, and this chapter in specific, was inspired by "I Won't Mind" by Audra McDonald. Lyrics below. One of the best lullabies ever. You can look it up youtube, if you want.

I won't mind, sitting by your cradle, singing to you softly, far into the night,
I won't mind, playing peek a boo for hours, to see that look of wonder, wonder and delight,
Soon they'll be asking, where is baby's nose, where is baby's shoe, where is baby's hat?
Clever little boy, they'll say, Lizzie taught him that.

I won't mind reading you a story, quaking like a duck, chirping like a bird,
I won't mind, when you ask me to repeat it, till you can say with me, knowing every word
You needn't worry if there's chocolate on your hands, jelly on your face, porridge on my skirt,
Run to me and I'll be there, to hold you when you hurt.

They'll say Auntie Lizzie can't say no,
They'll say Auntie Lizzie's spoiling you,
They'll say Auntie Lizzie's wrapped around your finger,
I'll say yes, it's true.

I won't mind, knowing that mother showers you with kisses, bakes your favorite bread,
I won't mind, when I see your father lift you, fling you to his shoulders, high above my head.
They might be busy, I can take you skating, I can take you sledding, flying down a hill
If they won't build a snowman, Auntie Lizzie will.

They'll say Auntie Lizzie holds too tight,
They'll say Auntie Lizzie can't let go,
They'll say Auntie Lizzie's really not your aunt, anyway,
You'll say no, that isn't so.

In my heart, I will keep a secret, a clever little secret, hidden from the rest,
In my dreams, you're my own, my very own, and I blanket you with you with love,
as I hold you to my breast,

Lizzie, he's not yours,
Lizzie, in his life, your part is very small,

But if one day a toy should break, or maybe playing patty-cake,
You call me "Momma" by mistake,

I won't mind at all.

Yeah, so can you see how it would have inspired the fiction? I hope so... It makes sense in my head. And that might have been my longest author's note ever. Sorry about that guys. And now, onto the fiction.

Pike was grateful when Adamson finally left, after giving explicit instructions about how to lift and carry Jimmy, as well as information about his medications. The conversation left Jimmy decidedly red in the face. The kid was staring at his hands, twisting his blanket in his lap by the time the doctor left.

Pike showed Jimmy the room. Jimmy was adamant that he did not want a shower, likely because he knew that Pike would have to carry him there. Pike would not have minded, but he was also a little bit glad that that particular amount of awkwardness was being saved for tomorrow.

Jimmy stared hard at the trunk at the foot of his bed. "Is that...mine?"

Pike started and blushed. "Yeah, kid, it is."

Jimmy's eyes bulged; he seemed at a loss for words.

Pike nodded at him. "You were so intent upon retrieving whatever it was you wanted from that cabin. I thought that getting you your stuff might help you recover faster."

Jimmy still looked awestruck. He hadn't spoken yet. So Pike didn't speak either.

When Jimmy finally recovered his voice, he said, "So that explains how I got this," holding up a corner of his quilt.

"Yeah," Pike said.

Jimmy still looked lost. "But how did you know which was mine?"

Pike looked down. "I took Matt with me."

Jimmy's expression froze. "My Matt?"

Pike sighed. He knew his young charge wasn't going to like this. "Yes."

Jimmy's expression went from open to completely closed in less that two seconds. His eyes narrowed and his mouth pursed as the boy made his displeasure known. "You endangered his life. You shouldn't have done that. I only went there with you because I thought it was safe."

Jimmy spat the word safe as though it was a curse.

Pike bowed his head. "I know. I know you did. I thought it was, too. But I should have made sure. I'm sorry that you got hurt, Jimmy, I really am. But when I took Matt back with me, he was safe. I promise you. I took an entire security team with us when I took him to the cabin. I set up a perimeter, and we kept Matt inside it at all times. We were not attacked or threatened at all. No harm came to him. He's here on the ship and I can arrange for you to have a short visit with him, if you need to see him to make sure he's alright." This time, Pike didn't fold to Jimmy's stare. He met the boy's eyes and stared back into them.

Come on, kid, trust me. You're gonna have to start trusting adults soon if this is gonna work out.

Jimmy met his stare and looked into his eyes. The boy had a disturbing habit of doing that. It was a disquieting habit. It always made Pike feel like he was being judged. Jimmy eventually nodded, as he had every other time. "It's okay, Commander Pike, I trust you. If you say that Matt's okay, then Matt's okay."

Pike wanted to sag with relief. The kid trusted him. It was a step in the right direction. He smiled. "We talked about you using the C-word."

Jimmy laughed. "Chris."

Pike nodded and smiled, but then grew slightly more serious. He leaned forward, looking the boy in the eyes. "You're aren't one of my subordinates, Jimmy. I don't work over you. You've already proved yourself to be quite a leader, and I don't need you to use my rank. I was good friends with both of your parents. Call me Chris, please. You've earned it."

This time the eyes that met Pike's were not assessing, not judging. They were wide and wondrous and accompanied by a small genuine smile and faint blush. "Okay, Chris," he said. And then he looked away, down at the floor, but when the boy looked up again, he met Chris's gaze with such a ferocious smile that that time Pike had to look away.

"Thank you for keeping Matt safe," Jimmy said. It was voiced in a tone so quiet that Pike wasn't sure he'd heard it.

He crossed the room, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're welcome," he said.

They stayed that way for a few awkward moments, and then Jimmy yawned and Pike cleared his throat, and the moment broke. Jimmy's yawn reminded Pike that the boy was still recovering, and needed sleep. Pike helped Jimmy into the bathroom and assisted the kid in putting on his pajamas. The boy elected to sleep without a shirt, as he said he wasn't used to it. Pike awkwardly tucked him into bed, and was somewhat surprised when Jimmy allowed it.

The boy drifted off shortly after.

Pike watched Jimmy sleep. He looked so young, so small. The kid was still too thin, too malnourished. It pulled at Pike's heart just to look at him. But the face... the face could have belonged to any child his age. Asleep, you couldn't see the age in the boy's eyes. Asleep, the boy looked...like a child. Unable to resist the urge, Pike carded his fingers through the boy's hair. He could have been any kid until you looked at his back. True to form Jimmy was sleeping on his stomach again. The scars gleamed silver in the starlight. Pike, who had sworn he would not do this, ever, moved closer, to examine the stripes closer up.

They were remarkably even.

They were too even.

Someone had taken a great deal of care to make sure that Jimmy was stripped evenly. It could have been a chess board.

Pike's stomach heaved. It was only with great strength of will that he prevented himself from vomiting.

He just...stared. He was going to kill someone.

His hands tightened and Jimmy whimpered in his sleep.

Pike drew back as if burned. The kid was dreaming.

Pike couldn't even begin to guess the many possible things the kid was dreaming of. Famine? Torture? Kodos? Executions?

Shit.

Jimmy didn't wake, but continued to whimper, his hands fisting in the blankets. "Mom."

Jimmy wasn't dreaming of Kodos. He was dreaming of his mother.

Pike was beside him in a flash; he could not resist. He slid onto the bed, and pulled the kid roughly into his arms, one hand rubbing circles onto the boy's back, the other pawing through the golden hair. The boy tensed, waking and tried to pull away, as he fought for composure. But Pike held him fast against his chest, and cradled him tightly. They both needed this.

Jimmy broke.

Pike had been expecting it, but he was still unprepared for the torrent of emotion the boy unleashed. Jimmy cried as though his life depended on it. He wailed. He even screamed.

Pike just held him. And rocked him.

And when the boy was exhausted and snuffling and quiet, still Pike held him. He had known that the boy would have to release the flood of emotions inside himself at some point. Pike was just glad that Jimmy trusted him enough to do it in his presence.

His shirt was covered in snot and tears, and possibly some other things. Pike didn't mind.

He shifted Jimmy more fully into his arms, and rocked further. Pike had never done this for anyone before, but he found it wasn't that difficult. In fact, it had been surprisingly easy.

Pike noticed at some point much later, that Jimmy had drifted back to sleep. As he looked down at the sleeping face, Pike thought he ought to lower the boy back onto his bed, but he couldn't seem to make his hands let go. Instead he shifted Jimmy closer against his chest and settled himself against the kid's pillows.

Pike figured he might as well stay. He didn't want Jimmy to have another nightmare and wake up alone or anything.

So what do you think? Let me know?