Aand the next chapter. This one's a little longer than the last one.
Cruise To The Edge
IV Running
Of course Jim's the one who saves me. Like a fucking knight in shining armour he comes riding in, unbinding me, and helping me stand, and this is entirely too close.
Fortunately my body's pretty screwed at the moment. So much that even my stupid heart doesn't do more than twitch happily. Then it's back to keeping me alive, which seems to be quite a chore at the moment.
Jim gets me back to the Enterprise and does the knight in shining armour thing again before he finally crashes in the chair next to my bed, just like he crashed in my office all those times. I'm sedated and bound to the biobed, basically unable to move. I'm high on painkillers, too. And anti-toxins. And slug. And anyway, having to wait for a surgical staff of six to be ready to operate sucks. Of course I get it that they look after the others first, now that I'm out of life-threatening, and well into bored.
It still sucks.
Jim lets his head fall against the edge of the biobed.
I raise an eyebrow. (I've been doing that a lot, whenever we're having private conversations.)
He looks around. "Are we alone?"
"Yes, the doctors and nurses are all well occupied. And when they come in to check on me they knock. Even McCoy. One of the perks of being captain," I joke. My voice sounds strange. Like it doesn't belong to my body. Stupid toxins.
Jim smiles wryly. "God, I'm relieved you're alive!" he then breathes, leaning back in his chair. "I really didn't think I'd have the chance to get you out of there."
"Me neither," I answer honestly. Silence is okay, but we don't do lying.
He nods, clearly distracted.
"You should go back," I say. "Look after your ship. Your crew."
Now he shakes his head. "I can't," he admits. "It's too much. We're safe for now, and we've contacted the 'fleet, and the Columbia is coming to pick up the crew, while the Entente is on her way to tow us back. Alone we won't get far, not without our warp core. So, the most important tasks I've taken care of. The second I was done with protocol and trying to look after everyone, I gave over to Spock. He got a little rest before – I made him get some – and I'm drained now. I need a break. Besides, she's your ship."
"No." My smile is sad. "She's yours."
It's his time to raise his eyebrows.
I try to shrug my shoulders, helplessly. Not a good idea. My body feels like being torn into pieces, which are now floating around stupidly. Not overly painful, but decidedly uncomfortable. "Look at me," I whisper, averting my eyes. The ceiling of sickbay really is pretty. Also, it's got a nasty crack. "I'll be lucky if I ever walk again. Captain – that's out of the question."
He looks shaken. "But… you're Christopher Pike! You can't just give up! You were born to be captain!"
"So were you." I'm looking at him again, and both of us know that this is not an allusion to his birth while his own father died, being captain for only minutes. "Besides, how do you imagine me going about my duties? In a wheelchair?"
He's back to shaking his head. "But…" he stops, looks away.
I don't dare to ask. It'd be against our rules.
He smiles a shaky smile, and answers anyway. "It's like a dream, ending in smoke," he admits. "I always thought that, one day, I'd be your first officer. Well. I suppose I should stop building castles in the air. I'm too old for that anyway."
"Wouldn't you rather be building starships? I mean, castles are nice and all, but quite useless, aren't they?"
Jim actually laughs at that. Mission accomplished.
Suddenly he's back to serious. "I was pretty scared," he confesses. "That I wouldn't make it. That my crew could die. But most of all, that I'd never see you again."
"I'm always scared, too," I admit, thinking that he might need a little reassurance, from captain to captain.
"About never seeing me again?" he asks, half joking, half serious. His eyes are dark and his pupils huge. It's like he's the one on drugs.
I actually flinch. "I would've been," I finally say. "Had I been in that position."
He gulps. "Chris," he begins, slowly. Uncertain. "I… you remember that night? When I came to talk to you, after another one of those stupid bar brawls?"
"Of course." How could I forget?
"I… never told you what it was all about."
"No, you didn't," I say softly. Oh dear. It's still bothering him. What kind of agony aunt am I?
Suddenly he's staring at me, his eyes boring into mine. "You don't want to know," he warns. "Maybe you'll even hate me."
"I doubt that." I'm sincere. There are very few things Jim Kirk could say that would scare me away.
"Do… you really want me to tell you?"
"Yes," I admit. "Also… you obviously want to tell someone. That's reason enough."
He smiles at that, if just for a second. "There was a… gay," he seems to be stumbling over the word. I choke. "in that bar, that night. They… some Starfleet folk… were… bashing him up. I… I just… I couldn't watch it happen. I barged in. They thought I was a fag, too, and let me feel it." Hearing those words from his mouth hurts.
He's staring at me. "… Do you hate me now?" he hesitantly asks.
"Why would I?" I smile. And then… "Are you?" I need to know. Well. I do know. Just that he helped one of my kind doesn't mean he suddenly changed his sexual orientation. So, I need to hear it, in order to be able to believe it and let go of those stupid hopes.
"Am I what?"
"A fag?" I stress it the way he did.
He looks away.
Suddenly I feel pretty awful. "Sorry for asking," I blurt out. I just broke the no-probing-rule pretty shamelessly.
Jim laughs hollowly. "It's okay," he says. "I bet you do regret it."
"Regret what?"
"… Asking?"
"Well, yes, of course!" His shoulders are sagging. I'm confused. "We said we'd never probe."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"That it wasn't really my place to ask?"
"Not about the fact that you really didn't want to know?"
"...Know what?"
"The answer to that question."
"Well, you didn't exactly answer it."
He is opening his mouth for a few times before he manages to say something again. I'm still confused. "I… I looked away! That's as much as an answer!" he blunders out, and suddenly I begin to understand.
I'll blame it on the drugs.
"Not for me," I say softly. "I need to hear it. Because if you don't say it… I won't be able to believe it."
There. I just laid everything open. Let's just hope that he catches on quicker than I did. And that I didn't mistake his implication. And that he won't spill my secret. And that he likes me back. And that-
Jim, who was just staring at me, interrupts my thoughts with bursting out laughing.
For a second I think I've made a terrible mistake.
Then I realize that there's a beaming smile on his lips, and he's leaning down, his lips next to my ear. "I still don't want to say this out loud," he admits. "Who knows who might be listening. But… just for you… I'm gay." He only whispers the last part.
"But… all those women…?" I whisper back.
He grimaces. "That was me trying to convince everyone, including myself, that I like girls."
I'm smiling, too, now. "I'm also gay," I say, voice still hushed.
Jim grins. "You have no idea how glad I am. Losing you, in whatever way, is something I just couldn't stand." His voice is painfully honest and he's staring straight at me.
I stare back.
"I promised myself," I finally say. "No relationships. Not even when I have an opportunity like this." His shoulders sag yet again. "But…" I grin wryly. "You've made me reconsider many of my rules. In fact, you simply blew most of them, not even giving me the chance to reconsider."
He smiley tentatively. "So… are you saying that…"
"I feel a lot more for you than friendship? Yes." I'm back to whispering. "I want to try and make this work? Double yes. I think we can make this work? Not sure. Still want to try. However…"
"We gotta be careful," he finishes. "Make sure we let nothing slip. Our careers depend on it."
I smile. He knows everything I know. He feels the same way I feel. He is as willing to make sacrifices as I am.
This is the best I've felt since realizing I'm gay.
It's also the most scared.