When he heard that his ties to the Re'an had only been reinforced, Jim did the only thing he thought he could do. It was something he'd done his entire life and something other people in his life had done to him. That's why he'd been so good at it - up until he'd been given the Enterprise.
He ran.
"If you'll excuse me," he said. The snake's scales were rough over Jim's skin as it coiled tightly, but he peeled the creature away from his body like it was an unwanted leech. It scraped his skin, almost tearing at his flesh, as if he'd wrenched part of himself away along to it. "I think I'm done here."
"Jim, I don't recommend replacing her in the case so soon," Elise said, a hint of urgency escaping through her usual mask of calm.
"A decision needs to be made." Jim said. He tried to ignore his body's flight or fight reaction and the writing creature twisted around his forearm and hand, and carefully worked his empty hand to the top edge of the snake's case. Once his hand gripped the edge, grounding him to the location of the open top, he set the snake inside with deliberate movements. He swallowed back an unexpected, billowing wave of nausea. His breath became labored, his heart now thudding in his ears, but he had to strong. He had to do right by Bones. If he didn't, Jim would never forgive himself.
"The decision is clear, Jim," Spock said slowly. "The creature must remain here on the Enterprise with you."
Jim backed away from the snake, pivoted, and stepped into the main room of the lab before his weakness for the snake destroyed the rest of his sound thinking. He took a short, lean breath but something gripped him like a vise in his chest. The scent of the snake and his connection with the creature had almost obliterated his clearer thinking, but now as he leaned his back against the wall beside the door, he was sure he could now process his decision. Only seconds ago he relinquished the snake but sweat already pressed into his back and his hands shook as if they'd never be still again. He crossed his arms, hiding his empty hands as his weakness as a Re'an was laid bare. Spock stood beside him, silent as Jim looked up at the dull ceiling. "I can't do that to him."
"Jim, you do not have a choice," Spock said softly.
"There's always a choice," Jim said. He'd said no to the snake, yet he had no authority over the situation. He wasn't captain- Spock was. Therefore, without the usual authority he had, Spock would be the one to make the call. Maybe even Bones, himself, since he was Jim's attending physician. Still, it wasn't right. Jim couldn't do this to his best friend. Breaking a promise he'd made to Bones crushed Jim. "He hates them."
The worst case scenario repeated over and over in his head. Bones, resenting the creature and, in turn, resenting Jim. Jim didn't know when it would happen but he was certain that, eventually, the friendship would be over.
He will not resent you, Jim. Do not imagine how your dearest friend will react. It is illogical.
"Do you know why Bones hates snakes?" Jim asked Spock, clenching his hands.
"It is not relevant for me to know the reason for Leonard's distaste for snakes, only that he will agree with my decision," Spock said. "The creature must remain on the Enterprise to ensure your health, captain."
"It is relevant, Spock," Jim pleaded. "He's my friend. I promised him the snake would be off the Enterprise."
"Leonard and I must look out for your best interests," Spock said. "I have no doubt that Leonard will understand what must be done for the captain's sake."
"You are captain, Spock. Not me. If this surgery doesn't work...and even if it does, it could be months before my sight returns." Jim had to do the right thing, and the right thing was keeping his promise. "There is no guarantee. Thus, it makes sense that I return to Earth with the snake."
"You do not wish to return to Earth, Jim." Spock's reprimand stung.
"To spare Bones, I would-"
"Not wish to cause Leonard the emotional pain of losing his dearest friend not once, not twice, but three times," Spock said softly. "Could you with your new conscience inflict such heartache upon the doctor?"
"No." Jim's head dropped limply and his gaze rested on the floor as Spock's words hit their mark, the part of his heart that would detest himself if he caused Bones more pain. If Jim left the Enterprise with the sole purpose in mind to get as far away from the doctor as possible, it would devastate Bones. It would devastate Jim. It would possibly do more damage than if Jim kept the snake. "I can't do that to him."
"Very well. The creature stays," Spock announced.
"Mr. Spock," Elise said. "May I suggest that the captain keeps within close proximity to her for now. It is for both of their best interests."
"Not in sickbay," Jim swiftly interjected before Spock could state a more logical solution. "No one needs that as a distraction."
"That may be so, but she needs to be near you, Jim," Elise said.
"My leaving upset her," he acknowledged quietly.
"It did but it did no real damage, not yet." Elise commented. "However, your own unease resulted from your abrupt abandonment of her."
Jim dragged a hand over his face. Did he really want to be attached this way to a damn snake?
He considered trying to find a way to break this new, intrusive connection, but as he did, his heart clenched as if it were in the clutches of a hand a hundred times stronger than his own, strangling him.
Your attachment can't be helped, Jim. There is no shame in it.
Jim wasn't worried about himself. It was Bones. Elise, I'm not ashamed. This snake...breaking my promise...it will all hurt Bones.
Yes, it may, but the commander is correct. You'll hurt your friend more by choosing to live your life away from him. I have lived a long life, Jim. I've seen and done many things, and regret is not one of my proudest choices. You will regret leaving the Enterprise and your life will be unfulfilled and tormented as you leave your two best friends behind. You need not only the snake but them, as well.
"Would she sense the captain sufficiently in his quarters?" A low feminine voice carried from across the room.
"Dr. Jahnas, you bring up a valid solution," Spock said.
"Yes," Elise agreed. "If he accompanied her to his quarters before his surgery, allowing her to become comfortable in his environment, I believe she would be comforted."
"It is a compromise," Spock said. "Jim?"
Jim's heart twisted again, torn between relief and fear. Elise was right. Spock was right. And, so far, Bones oblivious. "I can't break my promise to him."
"You are not breaking your promise. It is my decision. Thus, it is out of your hands," Spock said.
"She, like me, is a reminder of everything that has happened," Jim couldn't possibly do this to Bones. It was enough that Jim had changed - but adding this creature to Jim's life? Allowing it to be in the midst of it all here on the Enterprise?
"The snake's presence may indeed remind Leonard of past events but it is also the catalyst to your healing," Spock stated. "While you return to your quarters with Elise and the creature, I will meet with Dr. McCoy and discuss the situation in wake of this new development. Dr. Jahnas..."
"Yes, sir," Aleyah said.
"We will require your assistance to appropriately transport the snake in its case to the captain's quarters," Spock said.
"Certainly, sir," Aleyah said without hesitation.
"Jim, I suggest that you explain to Dr. Jahnas the depth of your attachment to the snake," Spock said. "It will enlighten her with vital information that is necessary to help care for the creature should you require her assistance since the snake will be a passenger aboard the Enterprise."
Jim nodded but the truth was, he didn't want to disclose his new circumstances to his crew, not yet. However, in informing Aleyah, he would gain the xenozoologist's trust and that could be the very reason for Spock suggesting the idea in the first place. Jim required her complete confidence if he was to keep this snake. She was the only one besides himself who could possibly handle the creature without being harmed. The snake was used to Aleyah after all this time and more than likely still acknowledged that she would have been important to the Re'an had the species survived. Jim could hear Bones' grumbling about the snake already, but if Jim needed help with the creature, his best friend would do anything for him - even that. But that was also where Jim drew the line for Bones.
"Please, sir, I don't wish to force the captain into a situation he is uncomfortable with, especially if he is still unwell," Aleyah said, her tone far different from when Jim first entered the lab. It was almost apologetic, with a rare softness and so unlike her that Jim's compulsion to explain deepened.
"It's alright, Aleyah," Jim answered honestly. Jim must proceed in telling his crew, as uncomfortable as it was. He owed it to them. At least he wouldn't have to be the one to tell Bones that a writhing creature was Jim's newest roommate.
"If you're certain. I only wish to help," she said.
"It's necessary, as Spock said. Once we arrive at my quarters, I will tell you what you need to know." Jim paused. He may be left with no choice but to explain part of what the Re'an did to him, but he wouldn't say more than he had to. As Spock consistently reminded him, he essentially was very much a captain. "But no more."
Now prepped for surgery, Jim waited for Bones. And waited. He waited, a bit hungry, also anxious, and that combination was enough for self-loathing to fester. He'd thought the days without his confidence as captain were over. Clearly, they were not, no thanks to the snake, which only exacerbated Jim's burden. Jim had put his foot down, at least. He was not showing up for his surgery with his damn snake and was honestly surprised when Spock had listened to his request. Once the snake was settled in his quarters, Jim explained to Aleyah his new status as Re'an and human. After he told her he needed this snake to find more of himself, that he was a man who now identified himself as a Re'an, she replied with a quiet, wavering apology, taking Jim by surprise when she did not display her usual confidence. She was clearly affected by the news. When she moved on to quickly chatter about the snake and her promise to care for it while Jim couldn't, Jim knew right away. She'd deflected as the old Jim would have. Jim decided it was only her attempt to gain some control over the situation. Just like he would have done had the situation been reversed.
"Jim?" Christine's voice sounded in his left ear. "Dr. McCoy wanted me to ask you one last time about the nanotech."
"Yes," he said immediately.
"Alright. Once it's done, it will be next to impossible to clear out of your body, given the nature of the procedure."
"I'm sure, Christine. Where's Bones?" Jim asked.
"He is on his way," Christine murmured. "He wouldn't miss this."
Not even if Jim broke a promise? He swallowed, now more nervous than he'd been in a long time. "The surgeon said five minutes."
"Yes, that's right, but that leaves us four." She squeezed his hand. "Now, what's this about me having to make three pies? Hmm?"
Jim almost flushed. "Well, I thought more on that. I think one should go to Garig."
"Oh?"
"He...put up with a lot, Christine," Jim confessed, thinking back on his weeks in sickbay. The nurse never once lost his patience with Jim as he'd recuperated. In Jim's opinion, Garig had every reason to do so while working with a man who'd behaved so very different from the old him. "Maybe he could share it with the others."
"Captain, you do not need to sacrifice your three pies," she teased. "I can make more so you won't have to part all that sugar."
Jim managed a small smile. "Promise me something, Chris."
"Jim?"
"Besides Spock or myself, you're closest to Bones. Because of this, I need you to tell me the truth."
"About what?" she stroked the top of his head. It was a trick she must have learned from Bones because his eyes began to close.
"If I'm too different after this surgery and if it fails after weeks and months of waiting for my sight to return," Jim paused. "If it hurts Bones too much, don't let him suffer. Tell me -"
"Stop right there," she said, her voice so soft that his body sank into the biobed, her voice wafting over him like a gentle breeze. "Leonard is not a fair-weather friend."
"Fair weather friend?" Jim asked, his breath catching as an unexpected warmth spread into every nerve of his body. That they must be pushing some drug in his system to relax him came to mind, but he hardly cared.
"That means...he doesn't run away when things get tough, Jim," Christine said. "He fought for your life, Jim. He'll fight again."
"But if it hurts him..."
"What if I tell you that I've seen in his eyes the pain of losing you again, Jim?" She asked gently. "What if I also tell you that the affection he has for his best friend has not changed even though his best friend has changed? It's still there, because he's Leonard. He doesn't abandon people. He's strong and level-headed, with a heart of gold. You know this, Jim. He'll be fine, because he has you and that's all there is to it."
"We need to get started," the doctor murmured. "One of my nurses has started a slow drip to calm him. We'll administer the anesthesia soon."
"Bones. Is he here yet?" Jim asked quickly.
"You called, captain?" The familiar drawl came nearer. "Sorry I'm late for the party. I was talking with Mr. Spock a little longer than I expected."
"Did you at least bring your bourbon?" Jim asked in good humor. He licked his dry lips, his apprehension and thirst a miserable mix.
"Although we don't mind passing out the drinks," Bones said, voice light, "I can't give you anything until you wake up after surgery, Jim."
"I know." Jim dragged his eyes open to see his best friend's shadow and waited for some sign from Bones, for some acknowledgement that the snake wouldn't come between them.
"You have nothing to worry about, Jim," Bones said softly.
"You hate them," Jim said.
"It may be an adjustment for me, but that adjustment doesn't compare to the one I'd be going through if you'd decided to leave."
Jim heard the gentle rebuke, loud and clear.
"However, if my best friend's leaving this ship, it would be a good excuse as any for me to resign," Bones continued.
"Bones, you wouldn't," Jim said, horrified.
"If you're not here, neither am I," Bones said matter-of-factly. "It's a simple as that, Jim. So, are you really staying or is your mind taking you off this ship, after all? Will you stay where you're meant to be, which is here, with us?"
Jim and the snake were harsh reminders Bones of the friend he'd lost; it seemed logical to Jim that he should leave, but it was obvious that Bones didn't want that. If Jim thought himself any kind of friend to Bones, he would do what his friend wanted him to do, even if it meant staying. "I...I'm staying, but I promised you, Bones, and now...I broke that promise. I'm sorry."
"I don't see it that way. This was out of your hands. I know you'd sacrifice the snake if you could, or yourself, because that's who you are, Jim, but the truth is you can't be without her.
"Her?"
"You know who I mean. Samantha."
"Samantha?" Jim realized he'd been out of it for weeks and forgot many things, but this seemed like something he should know. A name, a name that Bones tossed out so casually.
"Yeah. Samantha," Bones quipped. "Your new pet."
"Saman...What?" Jim sputtered. "You named her? You named my snake...Samantha?"
"I thought Sam was a nice name," Bones replied, tone indignant.
"Sam." Jim repeated. He wondered what possessed his best friend to name the very thing he detested.
"It's better than referring to your new pet as 'snake,' which is good for me," Bones said. "She needed a name."
That made sense to Jim, or would have if it hadn't been an obvious reference to George Samuel Kirk, teen who abandoned Jim another lifetime ago. "After my damn brother?"
"Well, your brother was a slippery one for awhile, until he wised up." Bones paused. "And I know you've been wanting to see your brother again someday, so this is the next best thing."
That was true, and his mom also made the short list. "Sam the snake. Bones, you're a genius."
"Doctor, the anesthesia is ready," Christine said.
"I'll be right here when it's over," Bones murmured.
"To see another new me?" Jim locked his jaw as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Yeah," Bones grunted. "And don't be worrying about that. The implants will blend in. Those tiny things are worth healing your optic nerves and giving you a chance to improve your sight."
"Won't be able to lose me, now, Bones," Jim murmured. "Last chance..."
"I told you that you'll keep things interesting around here," Bones drawled. "And the nanotech is going to be a reminder of what a headache you really are to me, not just once a day but all day. Can't really think of anything worse, really."
A smile rested easily on Jim's lips. Grumpy, complaining Bones comforted him more than anything else the doctor could do.
"Start the drip, Christine," Bones said.
Jim urgently reached out once last time for his friend. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
As always, Bones was close. "Don't be. I'll be the here the whole time," he reminded Jim. "Don't think for a minute that any of this changes things."
"Captain, count back from one hundred," Christine murmured in his ear.
Jim nodded, already feeling the pull into unconsciousness. "Ninety-nine. Ninety...eight. Nine...ty...sev...en..."
Nine hours later, McCoy stood at the foot of Jim's bed, wondering why he'd even thought that the surgery would be straight by the book. This was Jim Kirk, changed or not, and a complication was as normal as breathing. McCoy had not expected a complication - this seizure - that would perhaps halt the entire procedure altogether. At least McCoy's part was over - the nanotech was in place and Jim Kirk tied to him forever. If Jim had known the extra length he'd planned to take, McCoy may have been denied the freedom granted by his best friend. He admitted he'd taken advantage of the opportunity. He had also looked far into the future and into the likelihood of Jim ever landing in an alternate universe, as Ambassador Selek had.
"What are the chances that Jim will find an alternate universe?" McCoy asked Spock.
"I believe that the question is when will an alternate universe find the captain?"
McCoy arched a brow. "What are they?"
"Thirty-two point four percent," Spock said promptly.
"You've considered the possibility, then," McCoy replied.
"Indeed."
"Could you encrypt a protected file within the nanotech, also adding passcode of my choice as the final step?" McCoy asked quietly, handing a PADD with the details.
The Vulcan stared hard at him for a full minute. McCoy refused to squirm under the perusal. His actions were not illegal. He was Jim's attending physician, and what the hell. He didn't need to try to excuse himself from doing what he saw fit.
"Is the captain aware of your intentions?" Spock inevitably asked.
"He agreed to the nanotech," McCoy said without hesitation. "It's part of the procedure."
"This is his complete medical history."
Indeed, it was, from his birth to Frank, Tarsus to the Riverside Shipyard Bar, Nero to Khan, and now up to the Re'an. McCoy also included a few of his own logs with the sole intention of adding emotional impact to the ramifications of Jim's current condition.
"That you did not ask him for permission reveals that you believe Jim would refuse this addendum to the procedure," Spock said.
"He'd be unreasonable about it. And if he gets stuck somewhere, Spock, like Selek, what happens to the bond that you have with him? What happens when the damn snake is nowhere to be found? We don't know if he'll lose more of himself being apart from us. If he is lucky enough to land himself on another Enterprise, another me would see the file." McCoy stopped, contemplating the shocking calculation Spock had given him. The calculation, which was based on Jim's prior collisions with another universe, was higher than McCoy had both estimated or wanted to hear. "I guarantee that within three attempts, another me would figure out the correct passcode required to unlock the file, Spock. It makes sense provide this information as a safeguard - and a damn good fighting chance that he'll remain Jim. If he loses these connections, he'll want to find the Re'an. He'd want to be with them, no matter how nonsensical it sounded even to him. He couldn't resist it and then we would lose..."
McCoy's voice trailed off. Maybe he was looking for trouble, but they weren't talking about the Jim Kirk they came out to the black with. They were discussing this new captain, and he was invariably dependent on them, with numerous other things out of his hands. If something happened to Jim, and McCoy discovered later that he could have prevented it, he'd never forgive himself.
But deep down, McCoy knew it was mostly an attempt to atone for all of his shortcomings, fake or not, during the past two months.
"You have not yet asked that I keep this from the captain," Spock stated in reply.
"Will you keep this to yourself?" McCoy looked suspiciously at Spock when the Vulcan said not a word and instead, nodded once in agreement. That made it twice in just three days. "You agree with me? Again?"
"If you are referring to your proposed invitation of the Commander, your decision was supported by logical reasons and I agreed that the man who is our captain now would welcome our visitor aboard." Spock arched a brow. "This, too, is a logical course of action, although I do believe the captain, as he would before the Re'an changed him, would be adverse to his complete history being at the mercy of another -"
McCoy huffed. "That other person would be me, Spock, in another dimension."
"The captain is a private individual," Spock rightfully observed.
"Spock, in regards to the privacy between us, Jim let go of that a long, long time ago when he expected I bail him out of trouble in bars after classes and again with this technology in his body," McCoy said dryly. "This will be encrypted and will require another you to break it and then another me to enter a passcode."
"I will...refrain from fully explaining this procedure to Jim. However, if he inquires into the content of the technology, I will not lie."
"Fair enough." McCoy nodded.
McCoy had entered a gray area but he would not apologize for his actions. Now, however, Jim was in the hands of Dr. Sheffield, and a complication was a complication. McCoy pressed his mouth into a firmer line and glanced down at the unconscious and now still captain. Less than five minutes ago, Jim had seized on the table. "I'm not sure we can try that again."
Dr. Sheffield peered at the monitor as a nurse adjusted Jim's IV drip. "His heart rate and blood pressure have returned within normal range. That was only the first test of the implants. There are at least three more. Your captain knows the risks, seizures are not abnormal to experience while we test the efficiency of the implants, and he also understands that his eyes need these nutrients in order for his optic nerves to heal.
"This thing in Jim's brain that the Re'an put there," McCoy looked straight at Dr. Sheffield. "It's more powerful than Vulcan telepathy...than any of us as doctors. We can't possibly judge this by medicine alone. For all we know, the barrier may be reacting to the new pathways between the implant and Jim's optic nerves as well as the pathways to the brain. The barrier has felt threatened before. If we try this again, Jim may not just seize."
Sheffield didn't bat an eye. "Is his counselor available?"
McCoy appreciated the man's no-nonsense outlook, but he was ready to have control over Jim's health again.
"Christine, comm Elise," McCoy said evenly. "Please inform her we request her presence in sickbay."
"Of course, doctor."
When Elise stepped into the room ten minutes later, her face paled. One of Sheffield's nurses grabbed her arm before she stumbled against a sharp corner. "The barrier did react to your test," Elise said with an almost imperceptible wavering quality to her voice. "I can help but I believe it will have an adverse affect on me."
"Elise, we go no further if that's true." McCoy looked at Jim's future, now bleaker than ever. Was this really over? Had they come this far, only to see the hope for sight snatched from Jim's grasp?
"I only mention the affect it will have on me to prepare anyone who may need to check my vitals," Elise said quietly.
"We can't put you at risk," McCoy shook his head, disregarding Sheffield's opinion though he had yet to ask for it.
"Discontinuing this procedure will end the captain's chance to regain his sight, will it not?" Elise asked.
"It would," McCoy said simply.
"I see," Elise said. "In that case, I may faint or feel some of what Jim is experiencing but I have long since developed a healthier way to respond to others' distress. Without my presence here, I believe that Jim could seize again but I will provide a mental block for a short time. I think it will be sufficient, allowing the barrier to adjust to the implants."
"Dr. McCoy," Sheffield said. "This is your call."
Sheffield's eyes revealed nothing but patience while he waited for McCoy, and Christine retained her professional mask. Elise watched him with her usual placid expression, bound by the desire to help the man who saved her granddaughter. It was McCoy who was dealing with an internal, raging storm as he considered the consequences, the chance that he would make the wrong choice despite having the best nurses and medical equipment on hand. The seizure had been fairly brief but it had been a complication, nonetheless. A skyrocketing heart rate was nothing to mess with and neither was a sudden drop in blood pressure.
McCoy's brow creased as he glanced down at the unconscious man who depended on him to make the right decision. McCoy had acted on impulse numerous times when it came to his best friend, bringing him aboard star ships as covertly as possible. He was just as stubborn saving Jim's reckless hide during missions. When the warp core stole Jim's life, McCoy had thrown logic out the window, as well as an oath, and depended upon a damn tribble just to try to get warm breath out of the once frozen captain.
Do no harm.
But, the truth was staring him in the face. Most likely Elise would be fine. Her resolve was strong. This procedure was the only thing giving them hope that, someday, Jim would regain his sight.
Then what the fuck was he doing, standing here like an idiot and not doing a damn thing?
McCoy set his shoulders and nodded to the brave woman on his left. "Elise, take a seat."
A groan slipped from Jim's lips. It wasn't just his eyes...but everything. His body hurt.
"I hear ya, Jim."
"Bones?" Jim croaked out, even his lips laced with pain.
"I'll get ya water in a second and also increase the pain med but first I'm going to have to warn you. Do not touch those bandages over your eyes, got it?" Bones said firmly.
"They itch," Jim whimpered, fingers already twitching. He didn't bother telling Bones how badly his eyes hurt, but the truth was that he couldn't.
"I know, and it isn't going to get any easier," Bones said, holding Jim's arm down on the biobed. "Promise me, or I'll have to engage the straps."
Jim sucked in a shaky breath, trying to relax his arms for Bones. He may have passed out as his skin touched the sheets, for the next thing he knew, alarms surrounded him, blaring in his ears while the voices of doctors and nurses were muffled at his side.
"Thought this...just eye surgery," he forced out, hating the silence which followed the alarms. "Feels like...got hit by a ship."
"I know, Jim." Bones said, his hands on Jim's face and something cool crossing over his cheek and under his nose - and then into his nose. A cannula. Jim inwardly groaned. He hated these inconvenient, bothersome things. "Your body is stressed and still healing from the surgery."
"Bones," Jim whined.
Bones sighed. "I know, but the pain med is going to hit in a little bit and things will be foggy. It could also affect your oxygen intake so I'm not taking any chances. You'll feel like you're on a cloud in a moment, Jim."
"Surgery...okay?" He mumbled, short on words as the pain sank deep into his bones.
"Did the surgery go alright?" Bones paused. "It did..."
"Bones..." Jim asked, certain he hadn't imagined the doctor's hesitancy. "Honest."
"You seized when we tested the implants," Bones said.
"Then how..." Searing pain shot through his eyes, increasing his sensitivity to everything else he felt, including the itchiness. It was as if his entire face needed scratched now. Jim grimaced and lifted his hand but Bones was too fast. "Ugh, Bones..."
"No, Jim," Bones said, his grip on Jim's arm gentle but firm. "Hold on. Nurse Chapel?"
"Yes, doctor."
Jim groaned, his arm fighting against Bones' muscle to reach his fingers to his eyes. The sound covered Bones' instructions to Chris. Jim gritted his teeth but a low hiss escaped through his teeth when Bones guided his arm back down to his side.
"Let's discuss this later," Bones said softly. "As I feared, I see that it's going to be difficult for you to not touch your bandages until you're more lucid and the pain and itching decreased, so I have to engage the straps."
Jim's fingers rubbed the sheet underneath him. He gripped it between his fingers, focusing on the softness of the sheet, the gentle timbre of the voices around him, anything to get his mind off the discomfort wracking his body, though it was now slowly subsiding. "A day?"
"Yeah, this will be tough today, Jim, but only one day. I can only see good things ahead. Someday, I'm sure you will too, in every sense of the word."
"Sam...okay?" The softness of the sheets forgotten, Jim couldn't help but flinch when the straps enclosed around his wrists.
"Steady, Jim. This is only to keep you from stopping the healing process. They won't be used for long but this is a critical part of your healing - you have to leave your eyes alone."
Jim grunted, soon finding his body sinking into the bed. The straps were unpleasant, the constant itchiness worse, but so was being apart from..."Sam."
"She's fine," Bones said quietly, the words having the same relaxing effect of the medication. "Aleyah has gone three times to visit her..."
Jim's lips parted in surprise.
"Yeah, buddy, your surgery took longer than expected and you've been sedated for twelve hours," Bones said. "You'll be in your quarters enjoying your pie before you know it. Especially if you listen to everything I say, even the no scratching part when the straps are gone."
"Fine." He could do that, now that he was on that cloud Bones had mentioned.
Bones chuckled. "It's a good thing bribery works with you."
Jim frowned. He wasn't that easy, was he? He thought again, then smiled. At least he was predictable right now, making it easy for Bones to treat him.
"I also see that the drugs are working," Bones murmured. "Good. Just rest, Jim. Dr. Sheffield will be here shortly to speak with you."
Spock considered the human sitting on the couch, now settled in his quarters two days post-surgery. Jim lifted his hand towards his bandages. "Dr. McCoy has advised you not to touch your bandages," Spock warned.
"I know," Jim clipped. His hand paused midair. He clenched his fist and then slowly lowered it to his lap.
Finding Jim's mind open to his calming, Spock stepped closer and laid a hand on Jim's shoulder. "What is it that you need most of all?"
"Time," Jim whispered, leaning his head back and turning it heavily to its side. The thick bandages brushed Spock's hand. It would take all of Jim's resolve for him to refrain from touching the necessary strips binding his eyes and all of Spock's not to assist him immediately with an effort to calm his mind. Spock would be here to assist him when Jim asked. He did not wish to assert himself now that Jim's confidence and self-awareness were returning. "Time to figure things out."
"You speak of the logs. Dr. McCoy suggests you listen to several today."
"Well, yes but..." Jim sighed.
"Something troubles you," Spock said.
"You don't want to hear this, Spock. It's..."
Jim grew quiet. Spock withdrew his shields even more, already sensing that Jim would rather Spock come to a conclusion on his own.
"You do not recall all of Tarsus," Spock said finally, picking up the projections from Jim.
"Not all, no," Jim said, his voice almost inaudible, as if the confession was too painful to admit. "They're impressions. Ghosts, but I feel the disaster they left behind."
"This troubles you? Not recalling this most tragic event of your childhood, an event which has infiltrated all aspects of your life up until this very day?"
"I guess," Jim said quietly. "Funny, isn't it? That I miss one of the very things that fucked me up so badly?"
"It is not amusing," Spock replied. "Your reaction to this loss reveals your character, Jim."
"Without it, I feel...almost...missing. Not sure that's showing my character, Spock. I'm a man who isn't whole." Jim's lips twisted downward. "But there's more. My childhood, Spock, it's a mess."
Spock was aware, of course, of the numerous holes riddling the depths of Jim's mind, but so far, Jim had not revealed his stronger feelings regarding this change. Perhaps it was the connection with the snake or time itself which provoked these grander emotions, but Spock was prepared. Not only Spock, but McCoy, as well. The doctor had already taken a remarkable step to assist Jim in regards to his memories, one that would soon come to pass.
"Could you elaborate, captain?" Spock prodded gently.
"I mean...there are pieces, months or years I don't remember. Sucked from my mind, into theirs or buried behind the barrier." Jim took a deep breath. "But, you already know that. I just wish...there wasn't so much that...that was gone. I wish...I had someone to help me who was there, Spock. Elise can help when the barrier allows, but she wasn't there when Frank hit me or I was sent to juvie or trying to find my mom or...trying to stay alive on Tarsus."
"It may come with time, naturally slipping past the barrier if they were not taken," Spock said quietly, not knowing what else to say to encourage him. However, he did know what could improve the general nature of captain's thoughts. Spock placed his other hand around Jim's torso and gently urged him to lie slightly inclined against two pillows McCoy placed their earlier. The captain gave no fight, which was disconcerting. "You are fatigued."
"I am tired," Jim admitted.
"When Dr. McCoy returns after escorting his guest to -"
"He has a guest?" Jim interrupted, voice heavy. "Another doctor?"
"It is of a different nature. Shall I comm Dr. Jahnas?" Spock considered the snake in the transparent case. The creature was coiled perfectly, head poised as if it were directing its gaze towards the captain. "She may retrieve the creature for you."
"I feel...connected. Even here on the couch," Jim said quietly. "It's fine."
"Indeed, I sense that connection between you."
"Does it bother you? I mean...it could bother Elise, as she is sensitive to animals," Jim said, yawning. He scratched his head, careful of his bandages and gave a deep sigh before his body completely slumped against the pillows.
"Negative," Spock replied, moving to the replicator for water for the captain. On his return to the couch, he also picked up the plate on the table. The slice of pie, cut by Leonard himself before leaving for the transporter room, was laden with whipped cream. It would be the tool by which Spock would keep the captain awake.
When he placed the plate under Jim's nose, the captain's eyes widened. He breathed deeply, his lips curving. "Oh. Now you're talking."
Spock should not tantalize the captain with such a rich treat, knowing that although he required rest to heal from his surgery, Jim would not be able to resist the dessert. It also was the only thing which would keep Jim awake until the doctor returned. "I realize that you have just laid down to rest..."
"I'm awake, promise." Jim's lips twitched up. "I can handle a few more minutes."
And so he did. Spock's brow arched in amusement as Jim lifted the final bite to his lips with an elegant sweeping movement.
"This was good. Really good," Jim said, voice muffled by bits of pie in his mouth. "Needed more cream, though."
"Leonard added forty percent more cream than was necessary." Spock still could not understand the fascination Jim had with the food product but did not offer any protest, especially when the doctor had sent him a dark look. He deserves it, McCoy had growled at Spock before he left. He deserves all of this and more.
"So I like cream." Jim smiled.
"Indeed," Spock said dryly, amused at the bit of cream set into the corner of Jim's mouth, forgotten.
"Spock..." Jim bit his lip.
"Yes, captain."
"I don't think I've ever heard you call Bones by his first name until today. That means something, you know," Jim said.
"You have cream on your mouth, captain," Spock said.
Jim licked his lips and set his fork on the plate. "I'm happy you two are getting along without me."
"We are always with you and have been the entire time."
"Well," Jim said quietly, head down. He coughed nervously. "You know what I mean."
"It has been a most fascinating process," Spock murmured, taking the plate and glass away.
"I'm sorry that it took these unfortunate circumstances for you and Bones to become such good friends."
"Unfortunate as they are, not all has been lost," Spock said softly.
"You mean the old me is gone." Jim cocked his head. There was not a lack of confidence from Jim as he spoke about himself. Jim accepted his condition, mournful only in the sense that Leonard had suffered grievously from the change. "I wish he was still here for you."
"We wish for you to be comfortable with who you are, captain. The snake has assisted you in this manner."
"The snake does help me," Jim admitted. "Especially now, now that I'm...thinking about the missions."
"Missions?" Spock questioned.
"The truth - and the lies."
"It is natural for you to do this, but I believe it will not always be difficult to process," Spock replied.
"I know it wasn't real but I still think Bones kicked me out of sickbay, though part of that is also missing because of the memory shatters, I suppose," Jim said, mouth taut after the confession.
"I...apologize I could not help you more, captain."
"You? Apologizing for that? Those shatters endangered your life, Spock..." Jim asked in disbelief.
"This ordeal has increased my awareness of human normalities, including the process by which one considers that an apology must be made," Spock explained.
"Well, now I definitely feel like I'm the one who should be apologizing," Jim's mouth formed into a slight smile.
"It is unnecessary, captain."
"Do you not like my first name anymore?"
Spock frowned.
"I mean, you've hardly used it lately," Jim said.
"Despite your blindness, you are well. It reminds me of times past, I confess."
"I see," Jim said quietly.
"I am sorry this troubles you."
Jim laughed. "Hell, no. I don't care. Jim. Captain. Moron, if you follow Bones' example." Jim shrugged. "It doesn't bother me."
"But your memories do...Jim."
"Yeah," Jim rubbed his jaw. "They do. I have to balance the bad with what I know without a doubt about Bones. He's the best damn doctor I know. He's never abandoned me before. He wouldn't now. He wouldn't then. I can trust him to do the right thing, as I always have trusted him. I no longer believe those lies, but they're there. Always."
"It is not only Leonard," Spock said quietly.
"Mind reader," Jim's lips twitched.
"I apologize. You are projecting."
"I guess I am. You're easy to talk to, even when I don't want to talk."
"That is an illogical statement, captain."
Jim laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."
"You are in good spirits, despite being troubled," Spock mused aloud.
Jim hummed noncommittally. "I am."
"It reassures us all," Spock said.
"I suppose this is the good you mentioned?" Jim asked.
"Indeed."
Jim's head shifted against the pillows. "But you're right. It's not only Bones...it's Aleyah. Having her here was surreal and I remembered...I haven't forgotten what happened in my mind, hearing her screams end so abruptly, Spock. It was...it is terrifying. Added to that was my...decision...to bring her along..."
"Perhaps in time these memories will not be as harsh, Jim."
"I feel like I should apologize to her," Jim said in a low voice.
"That is a logical reaction to what you have endured," Spock said.
"Can you just see her reaction to that?" Jim asked. "I could never tell her what I imagined, what they put into my mind."
"You do not have to explain to her," Spock said softly.
"In essence, I'm keeping a secret from her...a big one."
Spock remained quiet. Perhaps he had misjudged the feelings the captain had for Dr. Jahnas. Spock had observed in the past that it was not unusual for Jim to have feelings for more than one member of the female sex - or engage in harmless romantic advances. Perhaps this Jim would not be any different in that sense, after all.
Jim waved a hand. "Enough about me. Before the surgery, I asked Chris to watch out for Bones..."
"What is your concern, Jim?" Spock waited patiently. The captain was fatigued. Spock would not press him, although the doctor and their guest would arrive shortly.
"That he is sacrificing too much and it could..." Jim paused, but still Spock waited. "It could possibly wear him down. If this happens..."
"Surely you know by now leaving will not resolve this problem should it even arise."
"We don't really know that. It will hurt, but it may be the best." Jim moistened his lips with his tongue.
"We should not count our chickens before they..." Spock paused when Jim burst out laughing harder than he could recall ever seeing him.
"Oh my God, Spock, Bones really has it in for me, doesn't he?" Jim gasped. "What did he do? Type up a list for you to use to test me?"
"I read through it three times this morning, captain," Spock informed him.
"No fuck? A list? Really?" Jim gasped through his laughter. "Fuck, I think I'm crying, and hell it hurts, but at least the bandages hide my damn tears."
Spock watched him, amused. "It is good to see you in such spirits, Jim."
Jim regained control of himself after another breath or two, and shook his head. "What can I say. Your company helps. How's our crew, Spock? The ship? I'm anxious to review reports. Logs. Anything. Hell, I'd take a full account of what you had for breakfast."
"Anything?" Spock arched a brow, also amused by the captain's swift change of subject.
"Within reason." The door chimed, causing Jim to break into another smile. "Bones has perfect timing. Quick, Spock, remind me of another one..."
Jim sighed contentedly as Bones came in the door. Spock had entertained him, gotten his mind off of many things, and allowed him to speak freely. Jim hated to see the moment broken but at least Jim was armed. Armed with knowledge. If he could just find the right moment to misinterpret one of those word thingies on purpose, he would. He only wished he could see Bones' reaction.
He also wished he knew why everyone was quiet. "Bones?" Jim frowned.
"Yeah, Jim." Bones said, his voice further across the room. "Sorry I'm late. I...uh...had to meet someone."
"It isn't Soona is it?" Jim asked. The woman had been hesitant again with Jim, revealing a new fragility that concerned him, especially when Elise remained on the Enterprise.
"No," Bones said, drawing out the word. "But...my visitor did want to speak with you, if that's alright."
Jim tilted his head, now growing aware of a fresh, subtle floral scent in the room. How'd he miss that?
A hand touched his, slowly enclosing it with its warm, soft flesh.
"Who..." Jim stumbled, partly alarmed but honestly in shock over the light, purposeful touch. No one he knew would ever hold his hand like this. Perhaps Aleyah at one time, never Soona. Never anyone. Of course, Nyota had reached for his hand multiple times in a friendly effort to comfort him but this was more personal. It was...intentional. Jim's heart ached as he considered that it was even motherly, as distant as that concept was for him.
The hand tightened its grip. Jim's breath caught.
"Hey, baby," the visitor said softly.
Jim couldn't believe it and, in that moment, the realization of what his best friends had given him, this new him, was overwhelming. So much they had lost but they gave to him freely, and they were still giving to him. Time. A home. More time, their undying friendship and patience. And now this - a new memory, something they could all share. He reached inside for a steady breath and a voice filled with confidence but he found neither. Instead, his words were hesitant, thinned but hopeful, and it hardly mattered to Jim and it wouldn't matter to the woman who had dropped absolutely everything to warp through the black and see him. She had cared. Bones had noticed what he hadn't said to his mother. Bones had cared. His mother had talked to his friends or they had talked to her, Bones probably being the one who initiated the contact, and here she was. Here, on his ship. Here, after receiving an invitation that the old him may have never extended to her and the new him too insecure to offer or accept her willingness to come when they'd spoken to each other just days ago.
But his friends? They'd seen beyond it all, and so Jim took that waning breath and spoke with a great hope. "Mom? I can't believe..."
His words faded as the back of the woman's fingers caressed his cheek like he'd never remembered nor allowed himself to ever imagine.
"Yes, Jim," she said.
"You're here," he said breathlessly. "You're really here."
Author's Note: Thank you for your patience with the updates and for the reviews last chapter! Once again, I didn't get to reply personally to them because of stuff going on, but will try my best this time. I really appreciate you taking the time to write them!
I hope you enjoyed the chapter's ending. It was my humble opinion that something good - really wonderful, even - should be happening for Jim right about now, after all he's been through and still has to go through. I have reasons for everything that goes on in this story - and this is no exception. And, no, I did not intentionally post this chapter so close to Mother's Day. I am happy about the coincidence, though. :) When I set the stage for Winona a couple of chapters ago, I wanted to surprise you, so I am crossing my fingers you were surprised. In my other verse, Jim does not have a good relationship with his mother, and for this particular verse, I couldn't help myself. Yes, they didn't for a long time but after Into Darkness, their relationship began to mend. Now that she is here, she may be able to help fill in those 'holes' Jim has in regards to his childhood.
Also, it was happytheexceed (thank you!) who gave me the idea in a previous review that Jim, Bones, and Spock must make 'new' memories. It was already on my mind but she said it in a way that inspired me even more and confirmed my decision. Thanks to Bones and Spock, this is one of those 'new' memories. You may already realize this (I hope!) but this means the world to Jim. Because of all that has happened, Jim is essentially a very unselfish person now. He would never have selfishly accepted his mother's offer to come. Bones knows this and acted on his behalf. Jim won't let too much time go by before he lets Bones and Spock know how much this means to him. :)
Many thanks to Rubyhair for beta-ing this chapter. Remaining mistakes, of course, are mine. I'll try to get the next chapter in two weeks. Thanks for reading!