Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek
Jim was getting really frustrated. And for once, it had absolutely nothing to do with him.
It was physically painful for him to watch two of his best friends circle around each other, neither one having the guts to just go for it already.
It was so obvious to everyone that McCoy and April liked each other. But when he tried to talk to each of them, both just shut him down and denied everything.
Jim was pretty smart, and he knew that both doctors were scared, but hadn't they each told him that that wasn't a good reason not to try? So really, they were just being hypocrites.
The truth was, McCoy thought as he ruefully recalled a rather awkward conversation between him and the Captain, he wanted to take that leap. He hadn't felt this way for anyone since Jocelyn, and it terrified him. Plus, it wasn't just him. He had to think about Joanna. His daughter would always come first.
A flying monkey drew the doctor out of his thoughts abruptly as it impacted with the side of his head. He shook himself off and picked up the stuffed animal, handing it back to a beaming Joanna with a smile. "Just making sure I was paying attention?" he asked jokingly.
Joanna's smile widened, showing a front tooth she had just lost a few days earlier. "You were staring at the wall, daddy. For like, an hour!"
McCoy refrained from rolling his eyes. "It wasn't that long," he said dryly. "I only just picked you up from school ten minutes ago."
Joanna did not have the same restraint, and rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "It was still a long time, daddy. You look worried. Is everything all right? Is Uncle Jim OK?"
McCoy frowned. "Why would you think he's not?"
Joanna grinned. "Because usually when you're worried it's 'cause he's done something stupid."
McCoy chuckled. "Can't argue with that," he muttered. Taking a deep breath, the doctor led Joanna over to the sofa. There were some perks to being the CMO, including living quarters that were nearly as large as the Captain's, with a separate living room.
Joanna sat down next to her father and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Daddy, what's going on?"
Leonard bit his lip as he tried to organize his thoughts. "Jo, you know I love you, more than anything, right?"
Joanna's lower lip quivered. "Are you going somewhere daddy?"
Leonard shook his head quickly. "No, of course not, Jo. You know I'll always be there for you. Even when you don't want me to be."
"Why would I want that?"
Almost against his will, Leonard found himself smiling. "Remember that in a few years, all right?" Joanna looked confused, so McCoy shook his head and focused on the conversation he was intending to have. "What do you think of April?"
Joanna smiled. "She's really nice. Nicer even than mommy. And she likes to play!"
Leonard chuckled. "You know that she and I are really good friends, yeah?" Joanna nodded. "Jo, what would you think about me dating her?"
Joanna furrowed her brow. "Dating?"
McCoy nodded. "Like if I asked her to have dinner with me."
"But we've had dinner together before." Joanna was still confused.
Leonard sighed, trying to figure out how to explain this. "Jo, you know how two people see each other alone, to decide if they want to spend the rest of their lives together?"
Joanna tilted her head to the side. "Like when you and mommy lived together? But she said you decided you didn't want to live with her. And then she wanted to live with someone else, but they didn't want me." She looked down at her lap.
McCoy quickly gave her a hug. "Did your mom tell you that?" he asked, trying not to sound as furious as he felt. Even if it was true, Jocelyn had no right telling their daughter that she didn't want her.
Joanna nodded guiltily. "She said that she was getting a new husband, and they didn't want kids running around messing everything up."
Leonard let out a low growl. "She shouldn't have said that to you, Jo. But don't worry about her, because I will always want you running around. You've got a whole family here who loves you."
Joanna looked up, beaming. "I know. You and Uncle Jim love me. And so does Pav-Pav, and 'Ru, and Ny-Ny, and Kev, and Monty, and April, and Carol. Uncle Jim said that even Mr. Spock likes having me around. Even if he doesn't show it."
Leonard chuckled at his daughter's nicknames. When she had first come on board as a five-year-old, she hadn't been able to pronounce some of their names, so she had come up with shorter versions. Even nearly two years later, those nicknames had stuck.
Their extended family seemed to be ever growing. In the beginning, it had really just been the command crew, but April, Carol, and Kevin had meshed easily and firmly, and were quickly becoming a part of that ship family that he so relied on. Kevin was a great babysitter, though Leonard wasn't sure if he really wanted to leave the Ensign alone with his daughter again. The last time the kid had looked after Joanna, McCoy had returned to find them staging the Romulan conflict of 2151 in their living quarters. Using pillows. And whipped cream.
Shaking himself off, Leonard realized his daughter was waiting for him to respond, so he nodded. "Yeah, Jo. We've got a great family here. We all love you to the Andromeda Galaxy and back. And that will never change. What I want to know is if it's all right with you if I spend some time alone with April from time to time."
"To see if you want to live together?" Joanna asked.
Leonard smiled slightly. "Yeah."
"So would she be my new mommy?"
Leonard bit his lip. "I don't know yet, sweetie. Can I spend some more time getting to know her, and then we'll talk with her together and see what she says?"
Joanna nodded eagerly. "I want her to be my new mommy. She's really nice." She looked down at her lap again. "If you spend time with her does that mean you won't spend time with me anymore?"
Leonard shook his head quickly, tilting her head up with gentle fingers to make sure she was looking at him. "Of course not, honey. You always come first to me, and you always will."
Joanna nodded again, slower this time. "All right," she agreed, giving her father a hug. She hopped off the couch and looked at him expectantly. "Well, go spend time with her," she grinned. "Then April can move in with us and be my new mommy."
Leonard sighed, but dutifully stood up. "How about we go get some dinner together, just you and me, and I'll ask her out this weekend."
Joanna pondered that for a moment. "Can we get ice cream?"
Leonard laughed lightly and held out his hand. Joanna grasped onto it and the two headed for the door. "Sounds good to me."
XXX
McCoy finally caught up with April a few days later, and drew her into a secluded corner of Medbay. It was a slow day, so he didn't feel guilty about neglecting any official duties.
April was confused as she watched the doctor try to speak several times, but unable to get any words out. "What's going on, Len?"
Leonard took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "April, would you like to have dinner this weekend?"
April tilted her head to the side. "We have dinner together all the time, Len. Why are you so worried?"
Leonard bit his lip. "I mean, like a date. An official date."
April blinked, startled. "Oh." She felt stupid, first for misunderstanding, and then for her less-than-eloquent response.
McCoy, uncomfortable with the silence, hurried to speak. "I mean, I like you, and I know we've hung out before, but I just thought… I just… I want to get to know you better, and…"
April smiled slightly, finding it endearing, the way he was so nervous. "I'd love to go out with you, Len. I like you, too. Just promise me something."
Leonard nodded slowly. "Sure."
April took a deep breath. "Can we take it slow? I do like you, but I'm just not sure I'm ready for anything serious."
McCoy nodded again, this time more quickly. "I'd like that too. I've got a daughter to think about, and she's always going to come first." He stopped abruptly, hoping that April wouldn't be offended by that.
April beamed. "That's what makes you such a great father. It's easy to see how much that little girl loves you."
McCoy sighed, relieved. "Thanks."
They would have continued talking, but the doors to Medbay swished open at that moment, and an Ensign from Engineering staggered in, mumbling something about an exploding console.
The two doctors returned to work.
XXX
Carol had known that there were certain concessions she would need to make, when she and Jim became an official couple. She knew that Jim's time wouldn't always belong to her, even when they were off duty. But that didn't mean she didn't feel some minor annoyance when their evenings got interrupted by some officer asking about an experiment in the science labs, or their next mission. Jim always answered all questions courteously, and it was easy to see how well he connected with each member of the crew.
Watching a pair of Ensigns leave, heads together as they discussed the suggestion Jim had just given them regarding a wall they had hit in the science department earlier in the shift, Carol couldn't help but smile fondly as Jim immediately turned back to his meal. "It's really rather remarkable," she commented idly, taking a bite of her salad.
Jim glanced at her, confused. "What is?" he asked curiously.
Carol shook her head exasperatedly. "You honestly don't see it, do you." Even with the phrasing, it wasn't really a question.
Jim furrowed his brow. "What are you taking about?"
Carol felt herself rolling her eyes. "Jim, it's not normal."
"What's not?" Jim was really lost now.
Carol smiled slightly. "The way this crew interacts. The way your crew looks to you. Most Captains don't inspire such loyalty."
Jim frowned. "I really don't know what you're trying to say. I'm the Captain, and the crew treats me as such."
Carol sighed, patting his hand comfortingly. "I hate to break it to you, Jim, but your crew treats you as so much more than just a Captain." Seeing that Jim still didn't understand, the young Lieutenant withdrew her hand and went back to her salad. She speared a few pieces of lettuce on her fork, and contemplated the food for a moment. "You're more than a superior. Your crew would follow you to the edges of the universe and back. They come to you for advice, for help, to share good and bad news. You're a leader, a commander, a friend, a brother. You inspire loyalty and respect. That's not something many Captains manage to achieve." Seeing that Jim was about to protest, Carol quickly continued. "Sure, most Captains treated with respect by their crew, but that's because of the title, not the person. Not many Captains have a crew that would throw themselves on a fire for them. Your entire crew has kept our relationship a secret just because we don't want Command to know yet. You didn't even ask them to do that. They do it because they want you to be happy. When they speak with and about you, they speak with true respect, and not just because of the number of stripes on your shoulder, but because they honestly believe in you."
Jim was speechless. Carol, sensing he needed some time to process, went back to her salad.
It was several minutes later that Jim pushed his empty plate away, his eyes resting on the dirty dishes rather than his girlfriend sitting across from him. "I really don't know why they're so willing to follow me," he admitted. "I mean, you're not the first person to mention that; I just…" he shrugged, his cheeks coloring slightly. "I guess I'm just not used to that kind of non-dysfunctional relationship. I had to learn a lot of hard lessons growing up, and one of those was that there was nothing special about me. So I guess I just don't see why other people don't realize that."
"Because it's not true," Carol cut in quickly, reaching out to grasp one of his hands gently. She could see immediately how much he regretted bringing it up, but she had to contradict him. It wasn't true, and she could only hope that one day, he would understand that. "I know you don't like to talk about it, and I'm not trying to push you. But please try to understand how wrong it was for you to be taught that. You're amazing Jim. We can all see that, and I just hope that with time, you'll be able to see it too."
Jim glanced away, and Carol sighed softly. "I won't force the issue. If you want to talk about it, I will always be here to listen, but I won't make you. I can promise, however, that nothing you say will force me away."
Jim looked back at her, his gaze sharp and filled with an emotion that Carol couldn't name. "Don't make promises you can't keep," he said quietly, picking up his tray and standing up. "I'll see you later."
Carol watched him walk away, stunned. Did he really think she would leave? Was whatever it was really bad enough that he honestly thought she wouldn't want to be with him if she found out?
Feeling something like regret and anguish bubble its way up from her stomach to her throat, Carol quickly gathered her empty dishes and headed towards the waste receptacle. If she was going to start crying, she sure as hell didn't want to do it in the middle of the mess hall.
She knew that Jim had issues. He had admitted as much when they finally committed to an exclusive relationship, but it had been pretty obvious beforehand, as well. But the idea that whatever it was, was so bad that Jim was honest to God afraid to tell her… what kind of childhood had he had? He had been taught from a young age that he was a nobody… what kind of parents would…
Her thought process came to an abrupt halt as she remembered who his parents were. Who his father had been. Jim never talked about it, and he was so down to Earth and determined to succeed or fail on his own merits, that it was easy to forget the fame the Kirk name garnered. She had grown up in a Starfleet household, just like Jim. Her mother worked in London at one of Starfleet's satellite campuses, and of course, her father was a high ranking Admiral. She knew what that pressure could do to a child.
But she had had both parents, and her mother had always been around, to tuck her in at night, to wipe away the tears and tell her how proud she was. Jim's father had been killed moments after his birth.
For his entire childhood, Jim would have been compared to the famous Captain who had sacrificed his own life to save eight hundred others. By Starfleet personnel, by civilians… Hadn't his mother ever told him that it didn't matter what he did, she would always love him? Somehow, Carol doubted it. She didn't know where Mrs. Kirk was now, but if what she knew of Jim was any indication, the woman probably hadn't been around much when Jim was growing up. So who had raised him? It seemed only too obvious that George Kirk's death had splintered the family, and Jim had been left blowing in the wind, forced to take care of himself far earlier than he should have been.
Carol knew that loss could change a person. Maybe Mrs. Kirk had been so damaged by the death of her husband, she had forgotten about the child she still had… children she still had – Jim had mentioned his brother once, though Carol still hadn't found too many references of the older Kirk when it came to reporting about that family over the last couple of decades.
It definitely wasn't right, and Carol knew she would be up half the night crying for the little boy who probably spent years wondering what was so wrong with him that even his own mother hated him.
She steadfastly avoided everyone on her way back to her quarters.
XXX
As the crew flitted from system to system, life settled into a peaceful rhythm. It was remarkable for Carol to realize that she had been on board for nearly ten months, and yet, it was true.
After that rather awkward conversation, Carol kept her word and didn't bring it up with Jim again. The Captain was grateful. He wished he could just talk to her, but he didn't want her to leave, and he was sure that if she knew everything, she would. How could she not?
Jim knew that he kept himself hidden behind a mask most of the time; it was the way he had always lived, and he was comfortable like that. Well, not comfortable, but used to it. He had friends, but even his closest friends were kept at arm's length most of the time. April and Pavel were probably the two who had gotten the furthest past that façade, and that was just because they already knew several of his secrets. He felt more comfortable with Kevin as well, but Kev had been so young on Tarsus, and Jim had always felt like a protector with him, so his first instinct was to shield Kevin from anything bad.
He was trying, with the others and with Carol, but it was hard to undo a lifetime of learning, a lifetime of building this persona of a content, strong, capable leader with no issues, who had never had a bad thing happen to him in his life. Most people would marvel at how well-rounded he turned out, considering the circumstances of his birth. But Jim was good at hiding and pretending. Most of the time, it was pretty easy, too.
And then he met Carol, and all of a sudden, it wasn't enough. He struggled to hold onto the fake Jim, but Carol just wormed her way through, seeing him more clearly than anyone else had ever cared to before.
It made Jim consider, briefly, actually telling her the truth. But self-preservation always wins out, and he was too afraid of losing her. He convinced himself that it was better this way. She would never have to know.
He almost believed it, too.
XXX
There were many perks to being Captain. In particular, when it came to scheduling. While Spock usually took care of that task, Jim was able to have some input, and thus, he managed to get himself and several key crewmembers taken off the rotation for one specific day that he knew none of them would want to be around people for.
Somehow, he wasn't surprised when April, Kevin, and Pavel showed up at his door shortly after Alpha shift started on the morning of the anniversary of the recognized end to the Tarsus massacre.
None of them had to say anything as Jim gestured for them to enter. They were all wearing comfortable clothes, and Jim almost smiled as Kevin immediately threw himself on the sofa in his living room area, turning on the vidscreen and flipping it to what appeared to be a child's cartoon entertainment show.
A raised eyebrow had Kevin shrugging, as April sat down in a nearby chair. "It's mindless entertainment," he said by way of explanation.
Pavel sat down hesitantly on the floor, using the sofa as a backrest.
Jim followed them, rolling his eyes slightly, but he understood where Kevin was going with that idea. It was something they could pay attention to that wasn't in the least bit related to Tarsus or their hellish past.
He unceremoniously threw Kevin's feet off the sofa, and sat down. Kevin grumbled, but obediently sat up and gave Jim some room.
They spent the whole day watching mindless entertainment shows. Jim was glad that as a senior officer, he had his own replicator, so they didn't even need to go to the mess hall for lunch. He was also glad that he had stocked up on a collection of alcoholic beverages from their various stops across the galaxy over the last year or so.
He did make sure they waited until the afternoon to break out the Saurian brandy and the Rigelian ale though. They might not be on shift, but he was a Captain, and no matter the circumstances, he should at least try to be responsible.
Throughout the day, Jim couldn't help but notice that the others seemed to be drawing closer and closer. By lunchtime, April had joined him and Kevin on the sofa, and Pavel was using his knee as a pillow, curling almost defensively in, drawing comfort from his Captain and friend.
Jim was a little worried about Pavel; he knew that this was a hard time for the kid as well, but Pavel had an air of guilt radiating off of him, and Jim knew he should probably figure out what was wrong.
The opportunity arose midafternoon, when April got up to use the bathroom, and Kevin went to raid the kitchen area, no doubt to replicate something fatty and disgusting that had absolutely no nutritional value and would give him all sorts of heart problems.
Jim nudged Pavel with his foot, and smiled softly when the younger man looked up at him. He patted the sofa with one hand, and hesitantly, Pavel took the offer.
"What's wrong?" he asked curiously, noting the small flinch at his innocent question.
Pavel looked down at his lap. "I just…" he bit his lip, and reverted to his native Russian, as he usually did when he was nervous. "I just feel like I don't belong here today." Jim frowned, but Pavel continued, the words spilling out in a jumble that Jim had to untangle in order to understand. "You were all there. You have a reason to be upset. I didn't… I wasn't there. I was on Earth, and I feel like I don't have a right to –"
Jim leaned forward and cut him off, a hint of sternness in his voice, though his expression was calm. "Stop right there, Pav. You have every right to be here. Yes, we lived it, but so did you, in a different way. You have every right to take today off to mourn your sister. We want you here."
Pavel still looked a little skeptical, but nodded readily, and settled back down as Kevin and April returned, the former with his arms full of snacks that he dumped unceremoniously on the floor, grabbing a bag of what looked like potato chips and tearing into it.
Jim smiled contentedly as he accepted another drink from April, and they returned their attention to the cartoon playing on the vidscreen. Pavel curled into his side, resting comfortably against his shoulder, while Kevin did the same on the other side. April squeezed herself on the end, on Pavel's other side.
It was late afternoon when Jim excused himself. Kevin and Pavel grumbled a bit but let him leave, though he didn't go far.
Jim settled himself in front of the comm. unit in the next room, and called a familiar number, even if it wasn't one he used often.
It took about a minute for the man on the other end to pick up, and when he did, Jim could see that he had probably spent the previous night, and the entire day, studying, if the tussled hair, pajamas, and array of PADDs covering the coffee table were any indication.
Things like dates and times could get really confusing when ships traveled across the various quadrants, which was why standardized ship time was set to San Francisco, since that's where Headquarters was located. So he knew that he hadn't woken the other man up, which was what led to the conclusion that the scholar just hadn't been to sleep yet.
Cory blinked a few times, and then smiled wanly. "Hey, Jim. How're things going out there?"
Jim shrugged, his eyes lightening slightly. "Pretty good. Just trying to get through the day and move on."
Cory nodded, sobering. "Yeah. I just buried myself in research all day and night. I'm so looking forward to being done with my Ph.D."
Jim chuckled. He had never gone for a doctorate, but that might have been because he had enlisted in Starfleet instead. He could certainly have studied further if he had wanted to, but the idea of submerging himself in research like that just wasn't entirely appealing to him. He was more of a doer, but Cory had always been the kind of guy who loved reading, and drawing correlations between seemingly random facts. Jim knew he would be great at whatever he did.
There was a muffled thump from the living area, and then a surprised yelp. Jim turned quickly, and shook his head at the way Kevin and April practically ran over each other trying to join him at the comm.
"Cory!" Kevin grinned. "How's life?"
Cory snorted. "Still studying like crazy. You?"
"No complaints from space," Kevin replied.
April smiled fondly at the younger man. "It's really good to see you, Cory. We miss you."
Cory's eyes misted up a bit. "I miss you guys too. Thanks for comming me today. I really needed this."
Pavel shuffled in his spot from the doorway, knowing from stories that this was Jim's cousin, even though they had never been introduced. He knew that Cory had also known Anya, and felt both guilt and jealousy bubble in his stomach. Yet another person who had known his sister better than he had, and he felt horrible for thinking that.
After another minute, April and Kevin left Jim alone at the comm., and headed back to the living area, bringing Pavel with them.
When they were alone, Cory and Jim dropped their smiles.
"So how are you, really?" Jim asked seriously, his expression clearly stating that he would accept nothing less than an honest answer.
Cory sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm just trying to keep busy." Jim just gave his cousin a knowing look, and Cory grimaced. "I miss her," he whispered, sniffing slightly. "And my parents. Why did they have to die?"
Jim swallowed harshly, his eyes pained, expression understanding. "I'm sorry, Cory. I know how difficult this is for you." He sighed and sat back in his seat, slumping almost as if he had lost the willpower to sit up straight. "I ask myself every day why me. Why I was the one who survived."
Cory looked up, his gaze sorrowfully eager. "And?"
Jim shook his head minutely. "And if I can't answer that question for me, I'm sure as hell not going to try to answer it for you. I don't know why, Cory. We were all doing the best we could in a shitty situation. It should never have happened, and I hate what it did to us. Not just in the moment, but after. The memories, the behaviors we learned on that planet, they'll plague us for the rest of our lives. We'll have days where we can't seem to eat enough to satisfy our hunger, and days where even the idea of eating any food will make us sick. Not knowing who to trust because you never know who's going to sell you out for the promise of just one decent meal.
Nights where sleep won't come because we just know the patrol is getting close, and we can't risk lowering our guard. Workouts in the gym at three o'clock in the morning because of yet another bad dream that leaves you gasping for breath and uncertain of what's real and what's imagined."
Cory listened to his cousin in poorly concealed horror. He had never heard Jim speak about Tarsus like this. Was he describing everything he felt, every day? If so, how on Earth – or off it – did he even get out of bed every morning?
As if knowing what the younger man was thinking, Jim made an effort to shake off the past, and attempted a smile. "That's not to say there aren't good days too," he reassured his cousin. "Friends, people that come into your life and you'll find you can't make leave, even if you wanted to. People who stand by you, and make you sometimes even consider telling them about the bad stuff, because you're almost certain that they won't care about what you had to do, the person you became in that horrible situation."
Cory bit his lip. "I'm not sure I could ever imagine telling anyone. Not that my presence there is a huge secret, but I really don't ever want to have to tell anyone."
Jim nodded understandingly. "I get it, Cory. The idea of people knowing terrifies me; even if I know, on an intellectual level, that they probably wouldn't treat me differently. It's hard to convince myself otherwise. I'm not trying to make you talk about it. I'm just trying to show you that even with all the bad, there is still good in your life. Please don't let the memories drown you." Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You know you can comm. me any time. I know we're both busy, but I'm always free to take a call if you want to talk."
Cory smiled tightly. "Thanks, Jim. I'm really glad to have you as a cousin."
Jim blushed a little, but returned the smile willingly. "Thanks, Cory. I'll talk to you later, all right?"
Corry nodded, and signed off.
Jim spent another minute collecting himself, before he rejoined his friends in the living room.
No one commented on the call, and returned to the nearly empty bottle of vodka that Pavel had run to collect from his own room a few hours earlier. Jim had rolled his eyes at that, but Pavel had just said that it had been a gift from his mother last shore leave; he had been saving it for something special.
Jim didn't argue though, even if Pavel was still technically under legal drinking age. Starfleet tended to have different views when it came to that: when they were out in space, Earthly legal age laws didn't really matter as much.
Plus, it was good vodka.
And that was how McCoy found them less than two hours later. Jim had always made sure the doctor had the passcodes to his quarters, so he didn't need to knock.
McCoy was a little concerned to find them all halfway drunk watching a cartoon he knew that his daughter loved.
Jim glanced up and smiled. "Hey, Bones."
Leonard frowned. He was far from an idiot, and he remembered very clearly how Jim always seemed to disappear around this time of year when they had been at the Academy.
But he knew that Jim wasn't the kind of guy who liked to talk about things, so he just nodded. "Jim. Everything good?" He had been expecting the kid to bother him at least once today, as he usually did when he had the day off and McCoy was still working. Well, maybe 'bothering' was a little strong; Jim would usually stop by around lunchtime to drag him to the mess hall, because he knew that Leonard was like him in a lot of ways – he tended to forget about things like eating when he got caught up in something, as he usually tended to do while at work.
Jim shrugged slightly, his gaze shifting back to the vidscreen. "Everything's fine, Bones," he said quietly.
Well if that didn't set alarm bells ringing, nothing would. McCoy opened his mouth, but closed it quickly as Jim stood up and gestured for them to head back to the main room. A slight shift of his hand told the others to stay where they were, and that he would be right back.
McCoy noted with interest the way they all instantly obeyed that small hand gesture, as he followed the Captain.
Jim walked him to the door in silence. He leaned against the wall with a sigh, rubbing a hand across his face wearily. "Bones, we're fine. Promise. We all had the day off, and decided to hang out."
Well, Leonard seriously doubted that was it, but as long as it didn't impede Jim's ability to do his job, he really had no grounds to contradict the Captain.
Jim snorted softly. "We're all off shift, we haven't done anything against regulations, and we'll all be perfectly fine to resume our duties tomorrow morning. Everything's good. I'll see you tomorrow."
McCoy still wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to argue when Jim got like this. Still though… "Jim –"
Jim's expression twisted into a sardonic smirk, his expression cold and completely closed off. He knew what the man was thinking. "I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor McCoy."
And Leonard knew he had pushed Jim to the limit of what he could stand that evening; when the Captain used his full title, Leonard knew to shut up and listen. With an aborted nod, he quickly left the room.
Jim stared at the closed door for a minute, before he sighed and went back to the living area.
XXX
It wasn't until much later, after the others had left for their own rooms, that Jim found himself once more sitting in front of his comm.
He punched in a number, and was rewarded a few seconds later by the image of a frazzled man taking a seat on the other end of the call.
"Jim!" Tom was surprised to hear from his friend, though in retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been. He was stationed at a science base on a Federation controlled planet a few days travel from Earth. Based on his clock, the anniversary of Tarsus wasn't for another couple of days, but now that he thought about it, Jim would be going off of Earth time, which meant today was a horrible time to be awake and sober for the Captain. Though if the slightly red eyes were any indication, he wasn't completely sober, though not nearly as drunk as he could have been. Or wanted to be.
Jim grimaced. "Hey Tom. How're things going on Alpha Centauri?"
Tom smiled slightly. "Pretty good. We've got a couple experiments in the pressure cooker that I'm really excited about." He sobered quickly. "Do you think we'll ever get over it?"
He didn't need to be more specific than that.
Jim sighed, carding his fingers through his hair as he buried his face in his hands. Looking back at the comm., Tom noted the tortured expression and the slightly bloodshot eyes. He knew that Jim had probably spent the entire day, and likely the day before, pretending that he was fine. The scientist remembered Jim telling him that Kevin and April were on the Enterprise, as was Anya's brother. Jim probably felt like he had to be strong for all of them, which meant that he had been holding in all of his own feelings about the anniversary.
But Jim never held back with him. Tom was Jim's first First Officer, and Jim had always made it a point to tell him what was going on. They had trusted each other, relied on each other, for over five months. It didn't matter that they had barely seen each other since Tarsus; their relationship couldn't be dissolved by distance or time.
Tom leaned forward in his seat, his gaze worried. "Jim, it's me. Don't lie, and don't try to downplay anything. I know you too well."
Jim sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I told myself I was over it. I told myself I had dealt with it. And I guess I thought I had." He bit his lip. "I took all of it and put it in a box in the back of my mind. Most of the time, I'm fine. But then the anniversary rolls around, or I see a little girl that reminds me of Lisa, or something that reminds me of that prison," he shuddered involuntarily. "Where does it end? When do I stop seeing it? When can I stop feeling it?"
Tom winced. He knew that Tarsus had been worse for Jim than it had been for him. Sure, he had lost his family, the use of one of his eyes, and his innocence, but he had also spent his time in captivity in a cell. Jim had been tortured. Tom remembered seeing Jim in the ship hospital after being rescued; he remembered wondering how in the hell Jim had survived. He remembered Jim still being the brave leader he and all the kids had grown used to, even as he was laid up in that biobed, unable to even stand on his own. After everything Kodos had done to him, how had he been able to come out of it still so strong?
And that wasn't even getting into everything Jim had lost on that planet. Marie and Terry Spaulding had been the first people to act like real parents to Jim. The first adults to really care about him. Cory and Lisa had been more like siblings than cousins. And Kodos… Tom knew that Jim had idolized Kodos; he had been a mentor, and taught Jim about government and politics. Jim had trusted him, and even as a teenager, Jim didn't give out that trust easily.
Jim grimaced and leaned forward again, slumping in his seat, exhaustion making itself known on his face. He had spent all day pretending to be fine for the others, and he didn't think he could continue much longer. He had already sent Carol a message saying that he wouldn't make dinner that evening, and he'd see her in the morning, so that she wouldn't come by. He didn't have the energy to pretend right now.
Tom bit his lip, his expression compassionate. "I really wish I was there, Jim. I mean, I have no desire to live on a starship, but I wish I was there. You know what I mean."
Jim chuckled slightly, a hint of amusement pushing the exhaustion back for a moment.
Tom sighed. "I don't know what to say, Jim. I still have nightmares, and what happened to you was definitely worse. I'm not even sure we're supposed to get over it. What was it you told me all those years ago?"
Jim's lips quirked upwards in a facsimile of a smile. "The best we can do is learn to live with it. It might never get better, but it will get easier. I can't believe you remember that." He had told Tom that when he had visited him once at UC Berkley, over a decade ago.
Tom was smiling as well. "You always were the smartest guy I knew. I remember everything you tell me, and that conversation has helped me get through some really tough times."
Jim flushed lightly, embarrassed but touched.
Tom sighed, glancing behind him as a shout drew his attention momentarily. "I need to get going," he said regretfully, turning back to the screen. "Maybe we can talk again in a few days?"
Jim nodded quickly, smiling. "Definitely. Now go be a brilliant scientist."
Tom snorted, amused. "Aye, aye, Captain. You should go to bed. You look like crap."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Thanks, so much. Really feeling the love."
Tom flipped him off, not bothering to respond as he cut the link.
Jim watched the screen go blank, and then let out a weary sigh. He thought about following Tom's advice, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, and he couldn't see himself just lying in bed staring at the ceiling all night, with nothing to do but think.
Fortunately, he had other ways to turn his brain off.
After changing into more comfortable clothes, Jim quickly made his way to the ship's gym.
Please review!