I do not own Star Trek 2009 or Supernatural.

Enterprise

"You wanted us to surrender?" a mad Kerlyn cackled and Kirk realized that the Romulan was legitimately, actually insane. "I think you will all perish here in the emptiness of space, crushed beneath the superiority of the Romulan race in general and specifically my august talents."

"Is this guy for real?" Kirk muttered under his breath. "Spock, options."

The irritated glance sent his way by his first officer told Kirk that Spock was probably trying to come up with options already and running dry. Eight warbirds would have been cause for worry even if Enterprise was in full fighting trim and right now – Kirk eyed Sulu's sparking pilot console with a tired resignation – his poor girl was falling apart at the seams.

Suddenly Kerlyn's ship blew up.

Into tiny sparkly bits.

Flabbergasted, Kirk gaped at the screen. "That…was convenient." Marshalling his scattered wits, he regrouped. "Guess Harvelle planted that explosive after all. Maximum warp, Sulu. Follow the Impala and keep an eye out for her. We've got a Federation to save and no time to play with Kerlyn's little friends. Discretion, valour and all that, you know."

Enterprise jumped to warp, leaving seven very confused Romulan war birds in her wake.

Impala – three hours later…

Commander Ash of the USS Impala was fervently wishing that Commander Spock had stayed on the Impala, despite Kirk's obvious desire to get his first officer back. You see, while Ash liked being on the bridge crew, he didn't actually like being in command, especially when the two men the entire ship looked to for leadership were lying side-by-side in the infirmary, first officer passed out due to exhaustion, over-exertion and re-opened wounds while the captain, larger than life and usually solid as bedrock, hovered at death's door.

Thus everyone looked to him for all-knowing leadership. It was unnerving and he decidedly disliked the feeling. On top of that, he didn't know what he was doing at all. The Impala and her crew didn't believe in running for running's sake and yeah, they needed to make it to the closest starbase in time to stop the virus from getting out but shit, Ash had no way of convincing the commander there that the Impala wasn't just trying to yank his/her chain.

Rubbing his forehead wearily and tweaking the main power coupling again, Ash stared blearily at his console with sand-filled eyes. Castiel, partner and pilot beside him wasn't in any better shape but they didn't dare turn the bridge over to the second bridge crew. The seconds weren't a bad lot, but they lacked Ash's delicate touch and imagination. Exploding the warp core would be an astronomically sucky ending to a shitty couple of days and fuck if Ash wasn't praying for life to look up because the Impala had just been run through the wringer.

Suddenly the ship bucked, Ash swore bitterly and the Impala slewed out of warp at a crazy angle. Slamming into sublight space, Ash's diagnostics revealed that the weakened port nacelle had finally decided to croak, cracking along the recent repair line. He was tempted to kick his console. Damn it, he should have seen it wobbling, should have anticipated, should have this, should have that, so many things should have gone differently.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder. "Enough," Castiel said gently. "We're all running on fumes. Get the second bridge crew up here. We'll proceed at full impulse as soon as engineering fixes the problem. Warp can wait. At this rate, we're only going to get ourselves killed."

"Bobby," Ash croaked over the comm, determined to keep going.

"I agree with the kid," the engineer replied, sounding at least as tired as Ash. "We're not going to get anywhere fast. There's no magic or miracle involved here. I can't fix the nacelle any faster than five hours, even if I hound the boys constantly. We'll be in better shape to handle this whole problem if we all take a breather and get some sleep so we don't run the Impala into an asteroid or wire her main power systems to the food replicators."

The steady, reliable common sense of the oldest member of the crew centered the young, stressed bridge crew, got them back in touch with reality. Dismissing everyone, Ash saw a weaving Castiel to his quarters before stumbling off to the infirmary in desperate hope of finding a miracle.

He didn't find that miracle. According to Ellen, they were holding their own and no more. It sure as hell didn't look like holding their own. The captain was laid out under a swarm of tubes and bandages, monitors beeping mournfully and Ash clenched his jaw tightly, swallowing a childish sob. He was a genius sure, but only with numbers, not with impossible Federation-saving plans or crew-wrangling. Seeing his big, wild captain bundled together like a fistful of twigs was physically painful. They had to get the captain back. Hell, no one else aboard this ship, not even Sam, had Dean Winchester's incredible talent for the impossible.

"Com'on, Captain. We need you." Slumping down into a chair, Ash glanced over at the milk-pale first officer. "Shit Sam." Why didn't the idiot tell them he still felt like crap? Internal haemorrhaging from beating up Romulans, picking up his brother and ripping loose the glue so carefully applied by Bones, completing the impossible task of finding the captain on a cloaked war bird before collapsing on the bridge. Sam had run until he burned himself out, ignoring the fact that Jo's whole freakin' job revolved around keeping the crew safe. Ash knew she was going to be beating herself up about this whole sequence of events for a long, long time.

"Fuck, where's Enterprise when you need her?"

Commander Ash, second officer of the USS Impala, dozed off in the chair between his captain and first officer, carrying the weight of the world and wondering how the Winchesters managed it all the time.

Enterprise

Kirk shifted in his chair and flinched. Why yes, his ribs were reminding him that only four days ago they had been rather violently abused. He had sent the first bridge crew off to bed and was finishing up his reports when Spock appeared to drag his ass off the bridge like a recalcitrant child. "I'm capable of walking, Spock," he insisted as the first officer's firm hand supported his elbow.

"Certainly, captain," Spock replied in that faintly tolerant tone of voice that always managed to make Kirk feel about ten years old. Marooned in his room as the door slid shut behind the Vulcan, Kirk briefly considered crawling into his sleep sweats but collapsed on the bed, dead to the world.

He was sleeping fitfully when the door whistled and Kirk jolted upright. Wiping a hand over his face, he ignored the pounding headache banging away at his forehead. "Come."

Spock stepped into the captain's quarters, perfectly attired and at textbook parade rest but with fine lines of exhaustion hovering around his eyes and mouth. "Captain, we are coming up on Starbase 4. Two hours ago, the second bridge crew discovered the Impala proceeding at impulse power as they had blown out their port nacelle. We took her into our shields and towed her with us. As a precaution, I ordered a scan of the starbase and it appears that she is in the hands of hostiles, specifically former IO Gordon Walker." Spock completed his report as Kirk wearily dragged his shirt over his head, fishing out a fresh shirt. "I believe Captain, it would be prudent for you to shower."

Kirk breathed a quick laugh. "You think I stink?"

"I have observed that a shower often improves the morale of the individual as well as demonstrating consideration for those who have to work in close proximity."

"Well, in that case." Kirk stumbled towards the shower, admitting that a pounding hot shower sounded nice. And if Spock suggested it, he definitely had enough time. "Wouldn't want to drag down morale through my insidious, evil body odour."

"Indeed. I shall have breakfast waiting, captain. It appears that we will need every advantage possible to overcome Dr. Gain, former IO Walker and their nefarious plans."

Impala

"I'm the goddamned CMO and you're going to listen to me!"

"I'm the fucking captain, I say I'm going up to the bridge and you're not going to stop me!"

"You shouldn't even be awake, you ass!"

"Yeah, well clearly I'm a freak of nature and it doesn't help that when I do wake up I find out that while I was snoozing nicely, the world went to freaking hell, so I'm gonna have to go fix it!"

"Well excuse me, Captain Impervious! Aren't we full of ourselves this fine morning?"

"There's no morning in space."

Ellen glared at her captain, who looked very pleased with that last repartee. "Sam," she begged, turning to the first officer, who was setting off every medical monitor hooked up to him by yanking off the little sticky pads attached to his skin. Taken aback, she demanded of the normally obedient Winchester "What the hell do you think you're doing, boy?"

Usually that tone of voice had at least Sam shrinking back on to the bed in meek compliance. Not today. He met her eyes solidly. "I'm going with Dean."

Exasperated, Ellen threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine. You will allow my daughter to do your fist-fighting for you. You will not set foot off this ship. And if you start bleeding internally or externally, you will come straight back here and we'll re-evaluate from there. Mess with those conditions and I will forcibly sedate you and leave Kirk to mop up the trouble on his own. Am I understood?"

Sam nodded emphatically and Ellen was at least satisfied that his colour looked much better, even if he still moved stiffly. And if she let one Winchester out, she had to allow the other one to leave as well. Sam would drag Dean kicking and screaming back to the infirmary if anything went wrong and vice versa. The best way to keep them in one piece was to sic them on each other.

Dean hissed at the bandages wrapped around his forearms and biceps. Ellen gently helped him tug the command shirt over his head. The fact that he accepted help meant that the wide strips of skin missing from his arms, chest and back had to be painful. Of course the stubborn ass had refused drugs. Smoothing the gold shirt into place, she let her hands tremble for a second, just long enough to let Dean know how close she had come to losing him.

"Hey, we got this," he said gruffly, wrapping a gauze-covered hand around hers. "Not gonna come back here dripping blood for at least a month, I promise. Not gonna die either." Sam hovered over his brother's shoulder, nodding earnestly, promising with his whole great big heart.

Then they were out the door and Ellen rolled her lips together in consternation. Damn the Winchesters and her own soft heart. She loved those idiots like sons and if they ended up dead, she didn't know what she would do.

Enterprise

"Kirk! What kept you?"

"Winchester! Dude, am I glad to see you in one piece!" Kirk finished jamming a peanut-butter smeared piece of toast into his mouth to keep from asking something stupid about Winchester's health. Sure, Dean Winchester was in one piece, but he was whiter than a ghost and instead of his usual slouch, he sat stiff as a poker in his captain's chair. His first officer didn't look any better. Damn Kerlyn. Kirk was almost sorry the ass was dead in an instantaneous explosion, thus depriving Kirk the pleasure of kicking the shit out of him.

Shaking off morbid thoughts, Kirk refocused. "Seems that Walker's convinced Kerlyn's minions to take over the starbase – sensors are detecting Romulan and human life signs on the star base while the war bird seems to be manned by Romulans and one human. I imagine the traitor himself is standing by on a war bird to preserve his skin in case of a rebellion or something. Your long-range communications up yet?"

Winchester glanced over to Sam, who shook his head. "Yours?"

Kirk scowled. "We had to take out several key parts in order to get the sensor array up and running. I could order Scotty to reverse the process, but it'd take an hour or so and then we'd be flying blind. Are your sensors operational?"

"Kirk, the only things fully functional on this ship at the moment are shields, life support and impulse power."

"Damn."

"Yep."

Kirk sank back in his chair, thinking furiously. One war bird. Unknown number of Romulans on a starbase predominantly staffed by scientists and civilians. Starbase 4 wasn't manned by a strong security contingent, as they weren't anywhere near the Neutral Zone. Two very battered Federation ships, no communications.

Kirk wasn't seeing any expedient solution to this situation. If the Impala elected to chase down Walker and his war bird, she would do so on minimal sensors, leaving Enterprise to sweep a rather large starbase. If events devolved to a hostage situation, Kirk might be able to deadlock long enough to send the shuttle-that-could with Bones and Spock to Starfleet. Sending the shuttle-that-could now would just result in Walker shooting it down. That, of course, was assuming they weren't too late already.

"Captain," Uhura reported, "we're being hailed by Walker."

Kirk sighed and waved a tired hand. "On screen."

Walker was smirking defiantly. "Fools. You're too late. I already contacted Starfleet, all worried and panicked, telling them that you two had sent me on with an antidote to this terrible virus. Honestly, I had underestimated how quickly the Admiralty would jump into action when I said the names Kirk and Winchester. I guess saving the Federation a couple of times does wonders for your reputation. Naturally, they seized the 'antidote' immediately and promised to distribute it immediately through all major starbases. That was when Starbase 4 was regrettably attacked by Romulans and taken over. They'll send a ship to investigate but of course by that point it'll be too late.

Once the plague spreads, Dr. Gain and I will reappear as the bastions of immunity in a world swimming in pain. Naturally, we will market our cure to the highest bidder, perhaps even take command of the races in this galaxy, especially now that you've so kindly taken care of that crazy Romulan for me.

You really thought you could always save the world? And now the great Captains Kirk and Winchester have to watch their civilization fall, torn apart by disease and their enemies who blame them, quite rightly, for their woes."

Kirk gritted his teeth and scowled as Winchester shifted painfully in his seat, muttering creative and dire threats. This time there wasn't an enemy they could destroy to save everything. There wasn't a physical, tangible object to attain, defeat, acquire, an individual person or ship to bring low. The virus would run rampant through the universe and there was nothing they could do. By this point, the Federation would have had it circulating through at least eight major starbases.

"You're all going to die," the IO gloated, rubbing his hands together. "Finally, I will establish a galaxy where true humans rule, served by lesser races. Naturally, you lot are tainted but I'll spare you the quick death of a virus. You'll make such excellent toys, entertainment frantically scrabbling about in a galaxy under my control. It will be my intensely personal pleasure to hound both ships until you fall apart from exhaustion and I can take you apart joint by joint. But first, you will accompany me to Earth. I think you should see the wails of an entire planet in its dying throes. It'll be educational."

"Fuck," Kirk swore lowly as Walker laughed gleefully and Winchester glared.

Reality was harsh, cold and cruel – the virus was out and the Federation would fall as billons of men, women and children alike, all suffocated on their own blood to the laughter of a madman.