Author's Note: Thank you so much for reviewing and following along - it is wonderful inspiration! DLB48 - I really can't thank you enough for your skillful beta reading!
I wanted to note that there is a progression in this story, a gathering of pieces. So, you're going to have to hang with me for a number of chapters in the beginning while things unfold. The plot (somewhat thick and twisty) is off in the distance still, and I will keep my promise for adventure and angst for much of this story. Patience, my friends. :-) I think this story has the most angsty hurt of any sort (emotional and physical, with a bit of irony) that I've ever placed in Jim's path. Not only for him, but for his friends as well. *Author whimpers and runs away*
Jim peeled off his gold shirt in the corridors, not waiting for the door to open to unwind from the day. With slow steps, he made his way into his quarters. He rumpled his shirt in his fist and sagged against the door after it closed. Satisfaction filled him as he pondered the conversation at the banquet table with Prince Lequa.
He had begun his preparations for peace talks as soon as it became evident that the Enterprise had miraculously stumbled upon the missing civilization. Admiral Pike would hardly have recognized him as he read every single documented conversation with their people, reviewed with Uhura their various ways of communication, and discussed with his command team the multitude of ways the talks could fluctuate. Uhura's research especially fascinated him as she tutored him on the non-verbal ways they conversed amongst themselves using hair styles and animal wearing. He and the crew had been as prepared as they could have been.
Jim, as well as the rest of his crew, were quite intrigued with the Re'an. The away team discovered a surprisingly advanced but ancient weapon the first day on Beta Re'An IV. The missile, similar to a Terran model used during the 22nd century, alluded to a greater sophistication than the Re'an claimed. Since the Re'an are newer inhabitants of their present planet, Prince Lequa gave Dr. Marcus permission to investigate the missile to ensure their civilization was, indeed, free of anything that would promote violence. Archaeologists had yet to find a missing piece to the weapon, but with the additional time they were allowed, it looked hopeful.
Decades of research had gone into producing the body of knowledge Jim had reviewed. Previous contact had revealed them to be a peaceful, but reserved species within the Frederation. Only a century ago did they discover the Re'an were telepathic, but thoughts transferred only between members of their own race. Happy and ready to speak their mind, as was evidenced by Prince Lequa at the banquet, but never exhibiting any tendency towards violence. Approximately twenty years earlier, their entire civilization had suddenly disappeared from their native, Federation planet and not a trace of them could been found...until one week ago when Uhura intercepted communication from them. The Enterprise traced the communication to this remote planet and waited in observation until Jim received word that they could proceed.
After preparing a drink, Jim elected to sit on the couch, still mulling over the day's conversations. Somehow, he'd managed to keep the peace despite the accusation at the dinner table. He had abided by the rules. He was proud of himself for that. Following the rules felt good. Bones' subtle hints that Jim was losing a battle with his past did not.
Jim clenched his jaw and stared into his glass. Bones' conduct at the banquet table stung. It more than stung. The doctor's lack of support was like a powerful punch to his gut during the verbal onslaught at the table.
Bones' attitude was evident in the doctor's constant needling and nagging. All of which aggravated Jim and made him feel helpless, a feeling he most definitely detested. The past was history. He didn't want to dwell on it, so why did Bones? Nightmares and food sensitivities were old news. He had dealt with them before and even though he still dealt with them, he had them under control. Kodos and the events on Tarsus were done and gone. The Enterprise was his world now and Jim was too consumed with his captaincy. He would not allow his past to get in the way. He would not fail. Bones was overly worried.
Jim didn't understand his friend right now - and he didn't want to, not when he was securing approval from the admirals and receiving praise from his crew.
Go to Uhura and Spock's tonight? Jim snorted and swallowed back a quick drink.
He'd rather be poked in both of his eyes by one of Sulu's swords then be around Bones and two attractive, single women for an entire evening.
"Spock to Captain Kirk."
"Yes, Spock."
"Captain, if you are not presently otherwise occupied I desire to speak with you. Perhaps we can meet in your quarters."
"I thought..." Jim hesitated. "Did Nyota cancel because of me?"
"She thought it would be best."
"I see. Well, no, I am not busy, Spock." He fought back a groan, knowing what was coming. "Come on over."
Jim hoped Spock wouldn't ask him about earlier, but it was inevitable. Uhura's eyes had missed nothing. And her ears? Jim had yet to come up with a reasonable answer for the so-called "other tragedy."
"Very well."
Within five minutes, the Vulcan was sitting across from him and playing chess.
"Why didn't you just say you wanted to play a game?" Jim grinned.
Spock arched an eyebrow in response but never broke his concentration. He decisively placed his piece and clasped his hands. "I did not know what your disposition would be after today."
"My disposition?" Jim cracked a wry grin. "Don't you mean...if I would be bent out of shape?"
"Perhaps."
"Uhura noticed, didn't she? How are you by the way?" Jim frowned, thinking of the questionable behavior of Prince Lequa. Tomorrow, Jim would only stay on Re'an for a short time to allow Spock the freedom of accompanying Uhura and warding off any other advances.
"As she said, no harm done. Peace must be kept." Spock tilted his head. "I believe it to be quite telling that her observation of you is equal to that of her."
"She's Uhura, you know," Jim said quietly. "She's..."
He paused, fiddling with a chess piece in between his thumb and forefinger. Trying to find a word or phrase to describe his relationship with Nyota was difficult. Not a single one sufficed. But he'd try.
"...like a sister." Jim raised an eyebrow at Spock, not in the least embarrassed by his lack of eloquence. "Now, don't go telling her I said that. My image, you know."
"I would not dare say anything would negatively impact your notoriety among your crew."
Jim chuckled and stretched back on the couch. "Did she tell you to come talk to me?"
"No, Jim."
Jim blinked, not quite expecting that. "You're here on your own?"
"Yes."
"That's...nice." Jim furrowed his brow. One friend ditches him, another surprises the hell out of him. Nyota and Spock were newly married. Jim shifted in his seat, contemplating how he significantly lowered his expectations for time with Spock ever since that union. Sitting close to Spock as he was now, the void in Jim's heart felt more painful than ever. The agony swelled with every day that passed without the companionship of his first officer, but the thought of causing problems for the couple pained him almost as much. So he stayed away. The fact that Spock was attuned to Jim's needs meant more than he could ever tell the Vulcan.
"Spock, thank you."
"Are you well, Jim? Dr. McCoy-"
Jim jumped to his feet. Although he'd expressed his gratitude towards Spock, he couldn't explain much. "I am perfectly fine. Not a scratch, actually."
He hesitated, wanting Spock to understand he wasn't pushing him away but he could not discuss his situation with Bones.
"But about Dr. McCoy...please don't go there, Spock."
"Jim, you are my captain. You are my friend. You are a man I hold in highest regard. If a conflict arises between you and your physician - your chief medical officer - it is my duty as your friend and First Officer to rectify the problem."
"Nothing. There's nothing."
"Jim."
"Please, don't be intrusive like everyone else has been today," he said tightly. "It won't help me, Spock. It won't help...at all."
"I apologize."
Jim nodded curtly, but couldn't force himself to sit back down. In truth, playing a game of chess was the now last thing he wished to do. Not only had Bones left him in the dust, his Tarsus past almost broke the surface. Feeling ill, Jim could only fixate on the chess board. Spock's eyes were upon him while Jim fought to pull himself together. But as his insecurities mounted, he wanted to escape them, to sleep off the stress. He'd lost track of when the last time he'd actually had slept well.
He missed his academy days when he could enjoy a night of reckless behavior with his best friend and emerge refreshed and invigorated - minus any hangover. Even a night off with the three of them - Bones, Spock, Jim- as they used to up until...until when? Exactly when had his support team crumbled? When Spock married Nyota? When had he finally noticed his support had disappeared? When Bones began nagging him constantly, causing Jim to retaliate by acting like a jerk? And why? Did he really think he could salvage his reputation by ignoring the increasing signs?
He could barely admit it to himself but he was scared that his past was catching up to him. In the mornings, faces of days gone by haunted him. He could eventually shrug them off, but it took a profuse amount of coffee and meditation. Sometimes the mental strain almost pushed him over the edge. Maybe it was even why he hesitated to cross the line with rules like he used to.
Before leaving on this mission he was sure he could handle everything the universe threw at him. But now, now he was unsure. When Bones mentioned a few days ago that he wanted to ask Dr. Marcus on a date, Jim almost flew off the handle. Just when Jim himself had thought that she might be one he could have a chance-
Jim sighed, rubbing his face and feeling like a complete and utter failure. He'd been incredibly crass to Bones. Jim realized how petty his behavior was, but he'd kept up the act so he wouldn't have to discuss his sleeping habits and nightmares and whatever else Bones wanted to bombard him with. When it came down to it, Jim would gladly step aside despite the fact that it hurt.
A faint look of disappointment crossed Spock's face as the length of silence grew. The Vulcan stood and turned to leave.
Jim flushed. "Wait. Just...Spock. Stay."
"Jim, I do not want to do you a disservice by extending my friendship tonight."
"Spock, you misunderstand. You do me a great honor by staying."
Jim offered a small smile. Seeing that Spock still hesitated to return to his seat, Jim decided to take an additional, al beit small, step.
"Actually, I do need that hand of friendship tonight, more than I have in a long time. I realize I've been...distracted."
"If you are certain, Captain."
He thought he was but as they returned to the game, his concentration folded. Jim grimaced and crossed his arms. He saw no move on the board that would extract him from his increasingly precarious and untenable position.