Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.

Author's Note: Will the real Chapter 15 please stand up? Good grief. It took over 6,000 words before I got to this particular posted chapter. And then I got rid of said 6k, which was a good thing. ;0 That said, oh please please please...like this chapter? I am extremely encouraged by your reviews, favs, and follows. THANK YOU. And DLB48 ... if I owned ST, you'd be rich because I'd be paying you big bucks for all the detailed help you've given me.

Chapter 15

"Captain, we've landed." Uhura's soft voice and the quietness of the shuttlecraft beckoned James gently towards the situation on Revlair. He welcomed her intrusion as it led his thoughts from his other horrific reality Spock and he had experienced together through the meld.

James could not help but wonder how much meditation Spock would require after enduring the rawness of James' Tarsus past to the very moment JT was chained and brutalized by Governor Kodos. The Vulcan was still on the floor beside him and oblivious to James's own awakening during his recovery from James' emotions.

Throughout the opening and closing of the doors in James' consciousness Spock did not stop for anything. Spock pushed and pushed despite James' adamancy that he hated, yes hated, the Vulcan for making him dwell on all he endured at thirteen. As much as James hated everything on Tarsus and told Spock in less than professional terms to leave him alone, the commander did not relent. His unrelenting forced the response of violence from James' mind almost completely.

James squinted until Uhura discreetly lowered the lights of the ship. She handed him a cup of something.

Water. He drank too eagerly until Uhura touched his arm. "Slow down, Captain." Her voice held concern, not pity.

James recognized the difference because he scorned the latter. Even Sulu showed concern in his eyes and waited for a response from James. But James' head pounded, his mind heavy and his body overly warm.

"How are you, Captain?" Uhura spoke again and James was not inclined to answer.

James was certain the question was simple enough for anyone else. However, for him, now...it held too many layers to peel back to answer her and he only put his head in his hands and sighed.

He was...so many people. And those people were not okay. But all wanted to be.

The meld had shown him Jimmy, a kid abused and neglected, forgotten and lost, defiant and troubled.

It had shown him JT, a kid burdened with more than any young teen should have been given. A promise of death and fragile hope of survival. An unexpected betrayal and days of torture.

It had shown him that James wasn't even who he was. It was this captain Uhura, Sulu, and everyone else around him endeared him to be.

It frightened him, thinking of being captain. For now, he'd rather be James, who he was certain garnered an attention from Dr. Carol Marcus.

Carol. The woman who smelled like strawberries.

He wished to talk her but at the back of James' mind, he knew Carol was where she was most
needed.

The Enterprise.

If Carol was on the Enterprise and he was here on this mission to save the Enterprise maybe striving to be this captain everyone called him to be was the answer.

He'd gladly trade her safety for her attention. So she would be safe. James decided then and there to think like their captain. Like Jim would think.

She called me Jim. He would be Jim- for Carol.

It was difficult because of his aching head and the confusion littering his thoughts but Spock's interference and the image of Carol kept him grounded enough to set himself on the course for the mission.

"Lieutenant," Jim did not look up at Uhura as he began. He hoped he would piece together what he needed to ask without coming off as a brainless idiot. "How far away are we from the facility?"

"One kilometer," replied Uhura.

"I need to awaken the commander and the prisoner. It's time." Jim sunk his head lower in his hands and pressed his fingers into his skull to try to alleviate the pain.

"As I am already complete with my meditation, captain, there is not need to awaken me. I will summon the prisoner."

"Commander," Jim looked up startled.

"Captain," Spock regarded him carefully. Jim allowed the inspection, knowing the Vulcan calculated how far gone his mind was compared to whatever shade of black his eyes was. Jim in turn inspected the commander- his first lieutenant. Spock looked no worse for having been immersed in Jim's shame, anger, fear, and torment on Tarsus.

Jim was relieved at the freshness of Spock's appearance. They may survive this yet.

"You are in pain, captain," Spock commented.

"Yes, Mr. Spock. A headache. Not enough to keep me from going out in this sub-zero weather, however." Jim ignored the fact that his ribs still hurt as well as his wrist. "Are we good?"

Jim held his breath waiting for Spock's answer. He needed to be well enough to face this mass murderer once again.

"Jim, your eyes are shaded 31.56%. It is favorable."

"Favorable, at almost one-third?" Jim did not view the odds quite the same. From the look Sulu gave Spock, he didn't either. The things was, Jim was absolutely positive his eye color would not change in one kilometer. He had to trust Spock. "Alright, then."

Spock went to Memphis while Jim donned the boots more appropriate for climate and terrain of Revlair. As he took the coat from Uhura, he caught a glimpse of his face in part of the ship.

Jim did not like what he saw. The image which stared back at him was not the face Jim recognized for the past twenty-seven years.

"Oh, shit," he exclaimed. His gray-black eyes frightened him and he could not finish zipping his coat up as his hands began to shake. Jim's eyes emitted a menacing look he immediately attributed to those like Memphis, Frank...Kodos.

Come to think of it, Memphis' eyes were black.

Frank's eyes had just been dark with drunken rages.

Not only were Kodos' eyes murky with genocide, but his whole countenance was enslaved to the dark acts he committed against innocent civilians.

And Jim. Now Jim's eyes carried a similarity to his own demons.

No wonder Carol had been afraid of him.

"Jim, I need you to look at me." Uhura's presence, bright and commanding, joined the reflection. He saw her smile, an attempt at encouraging him, but his own eyes were more mesmerizing.

They would bring him back to the place he barely escaped. It was too tempting.

"Captain," she said, her voice more like an echo, "let me help you with your coat."

Jim leaned closer to his reflection. Curiously, his eyes were no longer a pale gray. They had become darker, murkier. How'd that happen? Jim wondered how long before they would turn...

His thought went unfinished as strong hands pulled him away from his reflection and pushed him back up against the side of the ship. Spock's force was more telling than the commander's face. Something was wrong when Spock did not let go of him but continued to hold an arm against his chest.

"Why the hell did you do that for?" Jim yelled, irked that the first officer he trusted had manhandled him in such a way. He winced with pain from his ribs as Spock refused to let go. Oh, Bones is going to kill me.

"Captain, a correlation exists between the blackness of your eyes and your violent tendencies," Spock said calmly, face inches from Jim's. "As you stared at your own reflection, your eyes were increasing in their dark shade. We cannot let that happen."

"Oh," Jim stated, feeling slightly the brainless idiot he had not wanted to appear. Damn this drug. Then he smirked. "I'm my own Medusa?"

Spock peered at him and Jim caught a half-smile on the Vulcan's lips before it slipped away. The first officer loosened his grip on Jim.

"Fascinating," Spock stated. "I find your attempt at humor during stage three of the drug increasing the probability we will come out of this alive, Jim."

Jim shrugged his shoulders, just glad to know what he shouldn't do the rest of the time in the ship, walking the icy ground of Revlair, or in the Green Gate- look at himself.

His attention snapped back to Uhura. "You said something about my coat?"

"Let me help you," she said.

Jim didn't need any help as his hands stopped shaking but he wanted to ask Uhura a question in private. So he let her and suffered a small glare from Spock as the lieutenant tended to the simple task.

"Uhura," Jim whispered as he aligned his face up with hers to speak in her ear. "I'm not trying to make Spock jealous, but I need to ask you something."

"Yes, Jim," Uhura said, as she lifted an eyebrow in question so similar to the way her boyfriend did.

Jim waited until Spock focused his attention on the still-unconscious Memphis.

"Strawberries. She smells like strawberries."

"Um, who?" Uhura asked as a grin appeared on her face.

"You know who," Jim said, exasperated Uhura was playing dumb just to egg him on. "I want to know...how she does that?"

"I think it's her shampoo." Uhura whispered in Jim's ear, her breath on his cheek.

"Shampoo?" Jim tried to wrap his mind around that. Not perfume?

"Or lotion," Uhura added. "Carol's conservative, Captain, with her beauty regime. Not like the ones you're used to."

"The ones I'm..." Jim stuttered. "Hey..."

Uhura gave a small laugh. "I know you're enthralled by her, Captain. I think it's kinda cute."

"You're laughing at me," Jim said, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to be cute. He wanted to knock Carol off her feet with a surprise because of all he'd done to frighten her. "I just wanted to know because, well..."

Jim stopped as Spock and Memphis were now dressed in the appropriate attire and ready to leave the ship, with Memphis's cuffs back on his hands. Spock had been efficient preparing Memphis for the short journey to the Green Gate. Sulu held the supplies he and Uhura needed in hand to retrieve the other ship which was 4 kilometers away.

And here he was dallying in a conversation with Uhura about Carol and strawberries. Thinking about the science officer and her sweet scent calmed him. The alternative was unfavorable. And what was the alternative?

Hurting everyone on this ship. Jim did not want to dwell on his susceptibility towards violence, not now, with three of his crew staring at him, and Memphis expecting something from him as well. What Memphis wanted, as he leered at Jim with a smug smile, was certainly to provoke Jim.

Merely observing Memphis set Jim on edge. He figured out specifically what Memphis had done during the meld and keeping his own rage at bay would be impossible if he had to drag Memphis to the Green Gate.

"Mr. Spock," Jim used what was for him the most impersonal way to address his first officer, to keep him detached from his inner turmoil. "It is your duty to transfer the prisoner to the Green Gate while I lead us into the building." Because I'll kill him if I touch him.

Spock nodded, expression careful as if he'd heard Jim's thoughts. "Yes, Captain."

Jim turned to the helmsman, glad Sulu was as adventure hungry as he was. "Ready to go spelunking?" Jim grinned, a bit envious of Sulu and Uhura.

"Raring, Captain," Sulu said immediately.

"Mr. Sulu, in the outside pocket of your bag are two devices. Take them out, turn them both on, keep one for yourself and give the other to Lieutenant Uhura." Sulu promptly did what Jim asked. "They will lead you to the ship. Stay together, stay awake, and contact Mr. Spock as soon as you get the ship out of its hiding."

Jim frowned as he rethought this plan. It was cold here, way too cold for Spock. Jim pulled out the extra gloves and his own face mask from his pocket and handed him to the commander.

"Put them on, Mr. Spock," he said. Spock raised an eyebrow but made no move to grab them from Jim's hands. "Just...you stand there having already calculated what this temperature will do to you within the kilometer we have to walk. You have the prisoner. I do not. It's logical. Take them."

Jim pushed the gloves and mask towards Spock again.

"Logical, captain. Indeed." Spock took the offerings.

"Isn't this sweet."

Memphis' sneer matched the undertone of his voice.

Betrayal. In league with Kodos.

"Always self-sacrificing," Memphis laughed. "Don't you ever tire of that, JT?"

JT. Boy who was tortured.

He had sacrificed- numerous times. Over and over. And for what? JT had lost half of what he saved in the end, anyways.

Jim breathed but could not exhale right away as an encroaching sadness covered him. Memphis' taunting burned his chest as the faces flashed before him who were lost in a very different way than he had once believed.

Keep moving, he told himself. Ignore Memphis.

Jim went to exit the shuttlecraft.

"You're going to die here anyways," Memphis said softly. "And all those you care about."

Jim stiffened, hesitating at the top of the steps.

It's not worth it, James. Give it up.

Giving up meant no more struggle with himself. He could be...James.

Jim stalked out of the shuttlecraft as the rage continued to burn its way through every sane thought he held close.

No. No. No. He promised himself..no..HER...he'd be Jim.

He kept walking. He heard the crunch of Spock and Memphis' boots behind him. The frigidity of Revlair did nothing to Jim unlike Memphis' next words.

"I did it because I did not want to be saved. I did it because others wanted to die anyways and you prevented them from doing so." Memphis voice was as cold as the air they breathed. "I found something better than the agony you left me in."

Memphis' confession froze time for Jim and he edged past his own voice of reason. He forgot about Spock. He forgot about Carol. He forgot about being Jim as he responded to Memphis.

Being this was agony. He just wanted to know. It crushed him that half of the children he saved had not had their chance to live as normally as possible. So, yes, he wanted to know, and Memphis seemed to have the answer.

"Will you tell me what was this...better thing?"

And then Jim wanted to forget.