boldygoing | The Long Silence [for losthunter]

Hunter had just got of the shower and had been about to change to meet up with Jim for drinks, when he sees that there is a text message on his phone. Not the best news in the world. But he understood that Jim had priorities to fulfill.

No problems. Hope it is nothing serious. Text me when you have free time again

Jim means to get back to him. He really does. But then the emergency meeting is attacked, Admiral Pike is dead, and the Enterprise is sent halfway across the quadrant chasing the madman who killed the closest thing to a father that Jim has ever had, and rescheduling a meetup at a bar is so low on his list of priorities that he doesn't give it a moment's thought until he lies on the wrong side of the warp core's radiation shielding, cold blackness pressing in on him with a terrible finality, and he realizes that now Hunter will never get an answer.

What they have isn't love, not really. But Jim is fond of Hunter, and he feels they're getting to be fairly good friends. And Jim knows how it feels to be abandoned without so much as an explanation. No one deserves that.

But there's nothing he can do about it.

And so his communicator remains silent, any subsequent messages from Hunter left unread and unseen, as days pass.

After not having received any messages in the first couple of days, Hunter had thought nothing about it. After all, it was not like their life evolved around each other all the time. And he did have some commissions to finish.

He started to worry when it was nearly a week later when he was invited to an author reading, and had sent an invitation to Jim -- and didn't receive a message back.

The worry deepened when a few days after that, Hunter had sent Jim a picture of his clay project of a mini Enterprise and didn't receive any reply.

And there is nothing he can do but worry. He doesn't think Jim is the type to just block Hunter out of his life, so that doesn't cross his mind. He has this heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that something is wrong. Especially when a few 'are you okays' are left unanswered.

His mood darkens significantly with his worry.

Ten days after Jim's last message, another text finally comes through. But it is obvious even at first glance that Jim is not the one that wrote it.

I must apologize for neglecting to contact you previously. Captain Kirk is at Starfleet Medical Center.

It's short and succinct, lacking any detail about why Jim is in a medical facility. But it does explain why Hunter's messages have gone unacknowledged.

It takes Hunter a while to answer the message. He felt like he had stared at his phone for hours, when it had only been minutes. A sense of panic filled his heart. And he had to take a deep breath, before responding.

Are you allowed to tell me the status of his condition? Is he allowed visitors?

This time, at least, the answer comes with very little wait.

His condition is serious yet stable and slowly improving. I cannot discuss specifics.

Visitation by friends and family is allowed, with restrictions.

Hunter frowns slightly. He wants to see Jim. But there is one problem...

I would like to schedule a visit. But I do not know where Starfleet Medical Center is located.

It is not something that had been discussed with Jim. He only has the PINpoint coordinates to the shuttle terminal in San Francisco. He can only hope that it is in the same city. Otherwise... he is not sure how to get to where Jim is.

Edited 2017-05-26 02:56 (UTC)

The next message includes a set of transporter coordinates, but also attached is an old-fashioned street address of a location in lower San Francisco.

There's also a single line of text: Do not bring any recording devices.

Hunter is grateful that an old-fashioned street address location was included. And is grateful that it is close to his PINpoint destination.

Understood.

He grabs a few things with him, still feeling slightly in panic mode. He makes sure that the only technology with him is the PINpoint, which he needs to get there. And then takes a deep breath, calming himself down a little more.

Then with that calmer mode, he activates the PINpoint to get to the shuttle terminal. He maintains that mode as he takes out the old-fashioned street address, and then relies on his own street smarts to get to his location. He just hopes that street layouts haven't changed too much.

The layout of the streets is much the same, but most of the businesses are quite different from the ones of the twenty-first centuries. There are very few land vehicles in use, as well, replaced by hovering cars or shuttlecraft. But there is also relatively little traffic out and about, and close to the north side of San Francisco, the reason why is clear.

There is a starship crashed in the middle of the city.

It's twice the size of the Enterprise, painted a sinister black rather than shining silver, but the style is much the same. It's a Starfleet ship, no doubt about it. A trail of destruction draws a straight line from the ship to the edge of the water, and in the path of damage is the shattered remains of Alcatraz. Flashing red and blue lights emanate from emergency vehicles flying around the wreck, rescuers hard at work clearing rubble and rescuing trapped survivors in the wake of the crashed ship.

Starfleet Medical is one of the biggest buildings in the city, far enough away from the wreck that it's untouched by the destruction. Several vehicles are parked near the entrance to the hospital building, their sides painted with what must be the names of local news networks, though the reporters themselves must remain behind a lighted barrier, like glowing police tape, restricting them from the hospital itself.

"Holy fuck...." Hunter has to stop and stare when he sees the crash starship. He can tell by the amount of emergency vehicles around that this was a recent event. And he wonders if this has something to do with what had happened to Jim.

When he gets outside of Starfleet Medical and pauses again. There are so many news networks. And that lighted barrier. He wonders if he would be stopped... or even worse, prevented from entering.

Out of habit, Hunter had worn his hood up over his face when he had been out on the streets of San Francisco. But now, he pushes it out of his face. Then makes sure that his PINpoint is deactivated, just like he would for a cell phone in his own world. Then he heads towards the entrance of the hospital building.

The hospital is still very much open for business. Patients or families of patients head in through the main entrance, and the more urgent emergency cases arrive on the roof by shuttlecraft, possibly victims from the wreck that is the north side of the city. So Hunter will have little trouble entering with the other visitors, without being immediately stopped.

Inside, the hospital is shining and clean, almost painfully white, and there is a desk not far from the main entrance, staffed by several personnel in futuristic white uniforms, their Starfleet chest insignia altered slightly to prominently display the familiar sign of a red cross. A few visitors approach the desk, asking about the locations of loved ones, even their hushed voices somewhat loud in this quieter segment of the hospital, far away from the ER. There's no immediate indication of where to find Jim's room on his own.

Hunter has never liked hospitals. His father had dragged him to specialist after specialist to find someone who could change his appearance back to what it had been. And being here, in the painfully white hospital, it was very nerve-wracking.

Hunter heads up to the desk, waiting for one of the personnel in those white uniforms to give him attention. "I am looking for the hospital room of Captain James Kirk. Please."

The nurse gives him a wary look for a moment before her expression clears slightly. "You must be Hunter. Commander Spock told us you'd be coming. One moment please." She leans over and touches some kind of control on the desk, which emits an audible chime. "Due to the heightened security, no visitors are being allowed into the CCU unaccompanied. The commander will be here shortly to escort you."

Hunter will not have to wait long. Spock appears from the depths of the hospital corridors, hands clasped behind his back to hide how they still tremble. Unlike last time they met, his Vulcan calm has cracked, and though his face is still nowhere near as nakedly expressive as a human's would be, he's visibly rattled.

Hunter feels that chill in the back of his spine when she mentions that he would have to be escorted to CCU. That Jim is in a bad enough state that his room would be located there.

And it especially unnerving to see how rattled Spock is. Hunter feels his own emotions aching to be expressed. His eyes are wet. His voice cracks a little, when he speaks. "What should I be prepared to see?"

Spock waits to answer until they are further down the corridor, out of earshot of the other visitors waiting in the lobby. "The captain is currently comatose and his respiration is being supplemented by an oxygen field. There is also a stabilization field protecting minor fractures to the T12 and L1 vertebrae until he has recovered sufficiently to allow surgical repair."

The Vulcan hesitates, clearly struggling with his own emotions, while also realizing that he must take Hunter's into account. "Are you familiar with CCU visitor protocol?" he asks. While he doesn't know that Hunter is not from the twenty-third century, it's logical that many citizens would not have had the need for this knowledge before.

"A coma?" His voice cracks again. He is not sure what an oxygen field is, but assumes that it means something similar to an oxygen tank. And he is also unsure what a stabilization field is either. His confusion is a little evident.

"No. I am not." Hunter admits. "What am I allowed to do? And not do?"

Edited 2017-05-26 04:28 (UTC)

"As stated before, recording devices are not allowed within the Critical Care Unit, as the less scrupulous members of the media may seek out invasive images or soundbytes to accompany their reports," Spock says, finding some solace in the recitation of familiar rules and guidelines. It's only a small comfort, but it's something. "The captain's immune system is compromised from radiation exposure, so you must undergo decontamination every time you enter his assigned room. The procedure is swift and is not uncomfortable."

Spock pauses for a moment. "I have... been informed by Doctor McCoy that comatose humans are thought to heal better with tactile contact, or by hearing familiar voices. You need only refrain from any physical behavior that may interfere with medical apparatus or cause further injury."

Hunter is very familiar with less scrupulous media people. His father was one of those people. And he nods in understanding.

He can also see that Spock is relaxed a little, reciting the rules and regulations.

"Radiation exposure?" He repeats, feeling even more concerned. "What kind of effects would decontamination have on someone who is scarred? And pierced?"

He has to raise an eyebrow at Spock's comment about refraining from any physical behaviour that might interfere with Jim's medical care. "Dude..." He shakes his head. He would not do anything to endanger Jim's life in any way. And besides, there is nothing sexy about a hospital.

"Has he responded to anyone yet?"

"It is not an important factor," Spock assures Hunter. "The sterilization process targets surface contaminants only."

Spock, being Spock, wasn't thinking about sexual contact in any way whatsoever, so Hunter's offended reaction puzzles him slightly. If anything, he might expect perhaps an attempted hug, which is ill-advised to say the least, or a kiss a la Sleeping Beauty. But he says nothing, unable to tell what Hunter is thinking about that particular restriction.

He stops outside a closed door, turning to face Hunter as he contemplates his answer. "Not in any meaningful way," he says at last. "His electrophysiological scans show mild stimulation in brain activity, but there is no external equivalent as of yet."

"Surface contaminants." Hunter repeats. It doesn't sound like their version of decontamination would be as complex as something a hospital in his timeline would have to complete.

He feels like he is repeating a lot of what Spock is saying. It is a lot for him to take in... plus, he is trying hard to fit in, even though he doesn't understand any of their technology.

"You haven't tried a Mind Meld?" Hunter asks softly, before the door is opened, and they might not be alone anymore.

There's a device over the top of the door, a long gray box that lights up with a bright green light, the moment Spock touches a control next to the door. The beam sweeps over Spock and Hunter, causing only a slight, momentary prickling sensation like a static charge, but without the risk of shocking anything on contact.

Spock gives Hunter a slightly surprised look, raising an eyebrow. "I am not a trained healer," he admits. "I have been able to verify his presence, but nothing more." Still, he sounds a little relieved that Jim is still in there somewhere.

"That is something good to hear." Hunter is assuming that the surprised look was caused by him voicing something personal that Jim had told him.

He enters the room, preparing himself mentally for seeing Jim.

The room is almost as painfully white as the rest of the hospital, though one wall is actually a large window, looking out over the city - the undamaged part of it, thankfully. Another wall is taken up with a blue and white holodisplay, which gives a constant stream of vital signs, tracking far more than just pulse and blood pressure.

There's only one bed in the room.

Jim almost looks like he's just sleeping. His eyes are closed, his face slack in unconsciousness, his breathing slow and steady. But there's a faint white glow in the space around his head, coming from a small flat machine that sits along the edge of the pillow. Two silver devices sit on either side of his torso, projecting a yellow field that seems to focus on his back. And apparently even in the twenty-third century, IV lines are still the way to go, as one hand is hooked up to clear plastic tubing, slowly dripping medication of some kind into his system.

All things considered, he doesn't actually look that bad. There's no blood, no scars, though he does have some odd mottled bruising that looks like it's trying to fade to green.

Spock stands back, allowing Hunter to take it all in at his own pace, respectful of the human's emotions.

Hunter doesn't even know how to approach the bed for a moment. He is glad that Spock told him about the oxygen field, he assumes that must be white glow around Jim's head. And the yellow field must be the stabilization field. And while the IV lines are a familiar sight... they are not a pleasant sight.

Finally moving forward, Hunter reaches out gently, to trace his fingers over the top of Jim's hand.

And while they have not known each other long, it still hurts all the same to see someone he cares about in such a state. And to feel helpless.

"Hey handsome." His voice cracks a little again, as he speaks to the sleeping figure.

Jim, of course, doesn't move or reply. But he feels warm - perhaps a degree or two too warm - under Hunter's touch, and the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat through the bed's sensors doesn't falter, steady and regular.

Spock would consider offering him the chance to be alone, but as Hunter is still something of an unknown to him, he's reluctant to do so. And besides... he isn't the biggest fan of walking off and leaving Jim behind, either. It's illogical, but his own responses these last few days have had little to do with logic.

Hunter continues his gentle touch on Jim's hand, even with the slight warmth of Jim's body. He kneels down beside the bed, sliding his arm up a little further up Jim's, very aware not to disturb any IV lines.

"I was able to complete a little more of my clay model of your ship."

He realizes that it is quite possible that the Enterprise is damaged too. Just like the other ship that he crashed.

He turns his head to Spock. "You must have been there with him. And I know you can't tell me anything. But I'm sorry, for whatever you had to experience."

"As am I." Spock found the entire experience deeply disturbing from beginning to end, and it is not yet over. He stands there, hands still clasped behind his back, assured at least that Jim is doing better.

He can't tell Hunter how bad it really was. The captain's death is highly classified, as is the medical miracle that Doctor McCoy was forced to perform to bring him back. He must continue to use the cover story that has been established, both to protect the doctor from the fallout of literally raising a man from the dead, and to protect the captain from those who might seek to experiment on him further.

Fortunately, the cover story is still truth, just lacking important details. "He put his own life at risk to save the ship and the crew," Spock says quietly. "He conducted himself with honor and selflessness."

"That sounds like him." Hunter runs his fingers up Jim's arm. It is hard, seeing him in such a fragile sight. Being so afraid to touch anything else but that arm, because he doesn't want to interfere with the oxygen or stabilization fields.

He knows that visiting hours are likely limited, but really is not wanting to leave Jim's side right now. He is going to find a way to make this work, so he can continue to visit Jim as much as possible.

"You are such a good captain." He whispers up to Jim.

There's a faint hum from the door as someone activates the decontamination beam, and another man steps into the room. He's wearing the same type of white uniform as the rest of the staff, but his dark hair is rumpled like he hasn't slept in days, scruffy stubble on his chin. He falters momentarily when he sees Hunter, a stranger he doesn't recognize, and draws in a breath to demand who the hell he is before he sees Spock, who is clearly allowing this unknown person to access the captain.

Most of the fight goes out of him, assured that if Hunter was any danger to their injured commanding officer, Spock would absolutely not just be standing there. But he's also under a great deal of stress, and his tone is perhaps a little brusque when he asks, "Who are you?"

Hunter jumps a little at the brusque tone. He turns to regard the man in the white uniform. While Jim has told him about 'Bones', there was no real detail that he was a doctor. And thus no connections are made.

"I'm Hunter." He answers with his name. "I'm a friend of Jim."

They are a little more than just friends. But he doesn't need to explain that.

Edited 2017-05-26 14:34 (UTC)

The doctor frowns deeply, tempted to ask why the hell it took him so long to come visit, then. But with the crashed Vengeance taking up half of the city and the absolute mess that it has created in the media, perhaps it isn't surprising that not everyone has seen the reports that the Enterprise was involved. So he just nods a little.

He's wary of strangers in the CCU, but if Spock is willing to vouch for him, that's good enough for McCoy. "I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise." As he speaks, he moves to Jim's bedside, tired but practiced eyes scanning over the readouts on the wall, though he still takes Jim's other hand in his, manually checking his pulse. "You want a chair?"

Edited 2017-05-26 14:41 (UTC)

Hunter blinks a little up at the other man. He can see a wide range of emotions on his face. And is still connecting the dots in his head to who the man is, to the 'Bones' that Jim has referred to a couple of times. Those connections are not quite made, just yet.

"A chair would be good." His knees are protesting a little already.

"Spock, make yourself useful, would you?" McCoy's southern accent becomes a bit thicker when he's stressed, but the Vulcan seems used to it, retreating to retrieve a sanitized chair to place near the side of the bed. It's not the most comfortable chair in the world, but it's better than nothing, perhaps a universal experience shared between hospitals of all sorts of eras.

The doctor adjusts something with the IV, swapping out an emptied container of medication for a full one. "Jim's gonna need all the friends he has," he says gruffly, and he can't resist trying to straighten the captain's hair a little, messy and uncombed, his hands gentle.

Once the chair is brought over to him, Hunter adjusts himself onto the seat, before returning his hand onto Jim's arm. The chair reminds him of all those uncomfortable chairs in all those specialist offices. He shivers.

He watches the doctor adjust the IV, and then smiles softly at how he straightens the captain's hair a little.

"He calls you 'Bones', doesn't he?"

McCoy rolls his eyes a little, but beneath the grouchiness there's a fondness in his eyes. "To the point where sometimes I think he forgets I have a name," he confirms.

And then, because he's a doctor and he knows to look for these things, he says, "Sorry about the chair, but it's all we've got. CCU's not meant for lots of visitors at once. Not that it's stopped half the crew from checking up on our captain here." He doesn't sound annoyed by that, though. It's been nice to have the company, especially on the bad days whenever the enormity of what happened to Jim hits him hard.

"Well, it seems to fits nicely in with some of the stories he has told." Hunter smiles a little fondly at the sleeping form of Jim.

"It's alright."

"Hear that Jim? You have so many people just waiting for you to open your eyes." He doesn't seem to mind talking to someone who can't talk back right now.

McCoy doesn't mind either. If the circumstances weren't so dire, it'd almost be a nice change of pace to have Jim unable to interrupt him. "Oh, sure. The crew, the admirals, the media... can't hide from 'em forever, Jim." The doctor looks over at Hunter. "They still camping out the front entrance?"

"The media? Yah they are..." Hunter frowns deeply. He is reminded so much of his father and his lust to get the byline first.

"Bunch of vultures," McCoy mutters, busying himself with checking Jim's vitals again, closely examining one of the fluctuating readouts on the biodisplay. "They were trying to sneak in for three days before we got them banned from hospital grounds. You'd think the ship buried in Presidio Heights would be more interesting than one starship captain, no matter how famous he is."

Hunter flinches slightly. There was a time when he was so proud to be the son of a media mogul. He used to eat up the media attention on him.

How things have changed.

"They just want the best-looking starship captain to make their bottom line. All of them waiting for a photo opp..."

"Indeed," Spock agrees, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. "It is greatly disrespectful, both to the captain, and to the others who have lost their lives."

"Yeah, well, that's the news for you," McCoy grumbles. He looks down at the comatose captain, a sad sort of look on his face. "Don't you worry about that though, Jim. Spock's taking care of writing the letters for you."

Hunter frowns deeply again. There is a small 'dad' voice in the back of his head that goes through the spiel of rationalizing the need of his job.

But sitting here, seeing Jim in such a fragile state, Hunter would be one of the first people to violently escort any media people out of the room, if they dared to make an appearance.

"Letters?"

"It is traditionally a starship captain's duty to compose individual missives to the families of fallen crewmen," Spock explains. "As I understand it, the practice is meant to help ease the emotional pain of loss."

"Oh..." Hunter lowers his eyes. The realization that there are so many families and friends who are hurting right now. Who are mourning.

"Will there be a memorial ceremony of some type?"

"Eventually," Spock answers. "It is... there have been multiple incidents that invite emotional recognition. There has been a candlelight vigil for the civilian casualties every night in Golden Gate Park. A more formalized ceremony for Starfleet personnel is tentatively scheduled to take place in three days, encompassing both the lives lost on the Enterprise and the attack on the Daystrom Conference Room."

"Jim's not gonna like missing it," McCoy adds, lightly patting the back of the captain's hand.

"Maybe there is something I could do to help? If you have photos of the crew who lost their lives, it wouldn't take me long to create stylized portraits of them."

Especially if Jim is going to miss the ceremony, Hunter wants to show his support somehow. These are all people that were important to Jim. Enough that he risked his own life to save others.

Spock and McCoy share a brief look. "Would you be able to do ninety-six in three days?" McCoy asks. "I think Jim would appreciate the gesture; I just don't have a clue how long that'd take."

"I make portraits for a living. When I am at art and trade fairs, I typically can do one in 10 minutes. It is a long enough sitting for a client, who wants to visit at the other booths."

"I could get it done." He shrugs lightly.

"Perhaps ninety-seven, then," Spock suggests, and McCoy looks blank for a moment before realization seems to strike.

"Oh. Yeah. Ninety-seven would do it," the doctor agrees, and gives Hunter a somewhat solemn look. "One of the admirals killed at Daystrom was really important to Jim."

"Then definitely we should include that admiral." Hunter feels a little better that he can do something to help with the memorial services. And help the families who have to deal with the tragedy in a small way.

"I just need their photo to get started."

"I will see to it," Spock says. He, too, would prefer to have a task with which to occupy himself. He doesn't take well to being idle.

The Vulcan heads out, leaving Hunter and McCoy alone with Jim. The doctor runs a hand over his face, looking utterly exhausted. But he looks over at Hunter and says, "So how do you know Jim, anyway? I didn't think he had any friends outside the service."

Edited 2017-05-26 18:39 (UTC)

"We met at a market. He stopped by my booth, and we started to talk." Hunter tells a half-truth himself. He just hopes that they still have markets in this century.

McCoy doesn't seem to see anything odd about that story, fortunately. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Intergalactic peacemaker no matter where he goes."

"Anyway, when he had selected something to purchase, I had teased him about him taking me out for drinks as payment. We met up again for those drinks. And just... a friendship blossomed from that." He is still gently stroking Jim's arm with his fingers.

Jim remains unresponsive, but McCoy doesn't look concerned by any of the readings on the biodisplay at the moment. He does sigh a little though, heavy and tired. "I'm sure he'll be happy to know you came to visit, once he's done doing the Sleeping Beauty thing."

He looks over at Hunter. "I don't know how much Spock told you. Got any questions?"

"If I believed a kiss could make miracles happen..." Hunter shook his head slightly. That magical kiss didn't work in his situation. But he has to wonder if any of Kendra's latent magic would have any effect, since it would still be tied to a kiss. He is a little tempted to try it.

"He explained about the purposes of the medical fields that are in place right now. And not to disturb them."

"And he explained that Jim risked his life to save his ship and his crew."

McCoy rolls his eyes, but there's no real venom in it. "Better not. Start something like that and the line to kiss him awake would be all the way out to the street."

The doctor nods a little. He expected that Spock would stick to the cover story, but even that sounds rather bare bones. "We'd all be dead if he hadn't. Still don't have a clue how he broke his back, though. Not like there are security feeds inside the core."

"Hear that Jim. You got a whole crew of good-looking people aching to kiss you. And here you are... sleeping through it." Hunter squeezes Jim's hand.

He frowns in concern. "The warp core. That is where he got the radiation poisoning?"

"Yeah." McCoy chooses his words carefully. He still barely knows Hunter, and since the truth would be awfully difficult to explain without revealing classified information, he can't afford to drop any hints. Fortunately, half-truths make it a bit easier. "He's damn lucky to be alive. If we hadn't had access to an old cryo tube, he never would've made it long enough to treat the radiation poisoning. As it is, he's got a long recovery ahead of him."

Assuming that Jim wakes up, that is. McCoy doesn't want to jinx anything, so he hasn't voiced this particular worry aloud, not even to Spock. It hasn't been long enough to make any assumptions like that. But he still worries.

Since Hunter doesn't know what a cryo tube is, the half-truth sounds true enough. And he can see an unvoiced worry on McCoy's face.

"Is it typical for coma patients to wake up?" In his dimension, it is nearly unheard of. Not impossible... but the odds are never in the patient's favor.

"Depends on what caused the coma," McCoy says, and this kind of talk is familiar for him, letting him go on medical autopilot for a bit, easing the stress that comes with being friends with Jim fucking Kirk. "With head trauma, it varies depending on the severity of the injury. Drug-induced comas are commonly and safely used in some surgical procedures. Jim's situation is... kinda unique. Patients exposed to that level of radiation have never survived before, and the treatment is experimental. But he is responding to treatment. We might be able to take him off oxygen in another day or two."

"Well he is a very unique man..." Hunter has to smile a little. If all the hope they have is that Jim is responding to the treatment, then he will grasp onto it with all his might.

Edited 2017-05-26 20:29 (UTC)

"Yeah, trust Jim to refuse to get himself in ordinary kinds of trouble." This, it seems, is something they can agree upon.

Hunter has to shake his head a little. If Jim gets himself into unique trouble in his own dimension, he sort of wonders what sort of Nexus trouble will be awaiting him. Once he is awake. And back to himself, again.

But at least he can do something now. He can work on those portraits. And he plans to visit Jim every day, if possible. There are a few books that he can bring, that he can read to him.

And that will have to be enough.

Hunter's vigil is never a solitary one.

Over the next several days, whenever he visits, there is almost always another member of the Enterprise crew visiting their captain. Spock doesn't tend to say much, preferring to stand along one wall and monitor Jim's vital signs, not out of mistrust of the doctors but out of an oddly emotional need to reassure himself that the captain is alive and improving. McCoy is often in and out, tending to Jim's medical needs, and three days after Hunter's first visit, Jim is strong enough to withstand the spinal repair surgery, allowing for the removal of the stabilization field, and another day passes before the oxygen field is removed also.

Others visit too, but Lieutenant Nyota Uhura visits more than anyone else. She, too, enjoys reading to Jim, although her choices of literature are very rarely in English, and the language varies from day to day. And she takes the time to get to know a little of Hunter too, enough to ensure that his preferred non-alcoholic beverage is made available during his visits. It's often she who is responsible for escorting him up to Jim's room, still under more strict security protocols.

Ten days after Spock first contacted Hunter, Uhura greets him in the lobby of the hospital with a somewhat relieved smile. "He woke up this morning."

Hunter has gotten into a routine, as strange as it sounds. Despite the sombre circumstances, it has been nice to spend time with Jim's crew members. Especially Uhura. He liked listening to her read to Jim. And is very impressed by her linguistic skills (especially when he learns that some of them are from other Alien cultures).

He smiles too, hearing the news she has for him. "He did! That's awesome."

It takes a lot of willpower not to celebrate a little louder.

Uhura can understand his enthusiasm. Though Jim is still nowhere near healthy, he's been slowly improving, and this is a big step towards recovery.

Fortunately it does not take long to walk far enough into the hospital that they don't need to worry about being overheard. "He's been in and out ever since then. Doctor McCoy says he'll probably still sleep a lot, but it's real sleep now."

Edited 2017-05-26 23:25 (UTC)

"Has someone had the opportunity to 'debrief' him on the last couple of weeks?" There is so much classified information they can't talk about with Hunter around. He doesn't want his presence to prevent Jim from learning information that is important to his own welfare.

Uhura nods slightly. "The parts that Doctor McCoy feels are important, anyway. Too much stress is bad for his recovery, so he doesn't know what happened in the city yet. We're not allowed to tell him, even if he asks. But he's still on some fairly heavy-duty painkillers, so he probably won't think about it." She smiles slightly as they arrive at the door to the captain's room, and activates the decontamination beam. "Just do what you've been doing. He'll be glad for the company."

"Avoid any stress-related news. Gotcha." Hunter feels a little nervous about seeing Jim today. "No big line-up of crew members clamoring to check in, yet?"

"No, but Pavel's trying to put together a Get Well Soon holocard signed by the whole crew," she says, smiling fondly. "Doctor McCoy didn't want him overwhelmed by well wishers. Just senior staff, family, and friends."

She nods towards the door, now that they're cleared for entry. "Do you want to see him alone?"

"Could I?" Hunter has understood their concerns for their captain, and has not minded the fact that he had not been alone with Jim yet. It would have been hard to be alone in the room with him, when he was just sleeping.

Uhura nods. "He's going to be here for a while. We'll all have a chance to talk to him privately, and I know you've had to come from out of town." She'd noticed on a previous visit that his accent isn't native to San Francisco, and assumes he's from this Earth's New York. There's really been no reason not to dissuade her from believing that.

"Besides," she says with a teasing look in her eyes, "I think we're all pretty sure by now that you're not about to throw him out the window the moment you've got him alone."

Hunter is fine with Uhura assuming that he is from this Earth's New York. He can handle pretending to be from the 'Big Apple', even with all the changes to the city since his own timeline.

"He might have broken our date, but he had good reason." Hunter teases back. It feels good to tease again. To feel comfortable enough in Jim's recovery that it doesn't feel forced.

Uhura smiles and pats his arm. "Go say hi. I can wait my turn." There's a set of chairs along one wall, a short ways down the hallway, and she heads in that direction, perfectly at ease with allowing Hunter into the CCU room alone.

Hunter enters the CCU room, flashing Uhura a grateful smile as she heads torwards the chairs along the wall. He heads towards the bed, and moves a chair to Jim's side, as he has done several times before.

"So you are awake, and without needing that one magical kiss." He smiles at the man laying there in the bed.

Jim's eyes were closed when Hunter first entered the room, but he blinks up at him now, his reflexes blunted by the painkillers. It takes him a moment to focus and realize who exactly is talking to him, but he manages a smile. "Hey," he says, his voice rough from not being used in a couple weeks. "Magical kiss?"

"Because you were Sleeping Beauty." Hunter gently takes Jim's hand in his. "I was told that if I tried, that it might encourage the rest of your crew to try it too."

"Oh." His laugh is more a soundless huff of air, but he gives Hunter a dopey sort of smile. He squeezes the other man's hand a little, nowhere near as strong as he is when he's healthy, but at least he's responding now. "Probably right."

His smile falters a little and he blinks again, frowning slightly at Hunter. "You're really here." He sounds confused, which should be understandable, considering he's still pretty drugged.

"Spock sent me a message, using your communicator." He explains. "And I have been here every day since then."

He is not sure how aware Jim is right now, but feels he should let him know about the assumption everyone else has. "They all think I am from your New York City. That I have just come in, from out of town."

"Thought I dreamed hearing you." Jim doesn't remember much of the coma, and what he does remember is pretty scattered and fragmented, but that's one thing that sort of makes sense now.

It takes him a moment to process what Hunter says, and he doesn't have the energy to raise his eyebrows, but he does huff out another nearly silent laugh. "Almost right. Just the wrong New York."

"You could hear me?" Hunter is glad that some things had made their way through to him, even while he was healing in a comatose state.

"Or do you just dream of me regularly?" He chuckled lightly.

"And McCoy wanted to know how we met, since he recognized I wasn't a Starfleet individual. I told him a trade market." Another 'almost right'.

Jim smiles slightly, trying to pin down the bits and pieces he remembers. "Poetry?" he asks. He can't recall the words, but he does recall Hunter's voice reading something, its cadence the sort you might expect from reading verse.

"Hmm." He closes his eyes for a moment, one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile. "You taking lying lessons from Spock?"

"Yes. And a few books that I thought you would enjoy."

Hunter chuckles lightly at that comment. "Well, you do know... it is only logical to let them believe what they need to believe. It would be too messy to open up the can of worms."

He is not going to mention the fact that the others have been telling him half-truths too. Since he knows it has to do with classified information. And he doesn't want anything to slip that would be considered too stressful.

At the moment, Jim doesn't seem to notice that anybody's trying to keep anything from him. That would mean more thinking than he's really prepared to do just yet. Besides, he's just remembered something else, and he opens his eyes again, looking up at Hunter. "I missed our date."

Hunter reaches up to gently touch Jim's cheek. "You were protecting your ship and crew."

Edited 2017-05-27 01:33 (UTC)

It's a perfectly reasonable explanation, but Jim still feels a bit guilty about it. "It all happened so fast..." In a way, he's still reeling from the attack that killed Admiral Pike, the firefight that started this whole spiral into destruction. Everyone else has had a few weeks to process it, but for Jim, Pike might as well have died yesterday.

After helping memorialize the 97 people who were killed in the attack, Hunter knows a little bit more about Admiral Pike. And how important he was to Jim.

"I am sorry you lost him." He says softly.

It's a good thing that Jim doesn't have to try to explain. Even if his thoughts were more coherent at the moment, he's not sure he could articulate just how important Pike has been. The man who talked him into joining Starfleet - outright dared him to enlist. The man who believed in him when no one else did. Who came down on him with harsh criticism when he needed to hear it, no matter how much he hated it, resented it at the time. Jim had never known what it was like to have a father.

And now he's gone.

Jim draws in a deeper breath and lets it out slowly. "Thanks." All anyone can do is offer their condolences, and he has to be content with that. At least they care enough to say something.

Hunter reaches up to gently run his fingers through Jim's hair. He can only let Jim mourn in a way that is natural for him. And he knows that it still must feel so raw in Jim's mind.

He is uncertain if he should mention the memorial. So he doesn't. Not until he can talk to someone else beforehand.

"Just wait until you see the nurse who has been giving you sponge baths."

Jim smiles slightly, though his heart isn't truly in it. "You hitting on them for me?"

"My mind has been a little bit occupied to be hitting on anyone." After all, someone he really cares about was lying in a hospital bed in a coma.

And all that time sitting by Jim's bed, waiting for him to wake up, meant that his feelings for the other man are a little deeper than what he previously had. He really doesn't know how he would have reacted if Jim had never awoken. And is very relieved that he doesn't have to find out now.

"You have been surrounded by people who care for you a great deal. It has been very amazing to see that. To be a little part of it."

He wants to keep talking, to ask why he deserves to live when so many other people died, but people don't just wake up from comas ready to go about their business, and he's used up most of the energy he's managed to regain since this morning. His eyes feel heavy, wanting to close of their own accord, and he knows he needs rest but he doesn't want to sleep, some part of him remembering what it felt like to slip into that infinite blackness.

"Sorry," he mutters, blinking heavily up at Hunter.

Hunter can tell that Jim is still exhausted, and it makes sense that a lot of his energy is being used by his body right now to heal.

"Don't worry about it sweetheart. You rest." He leans up, to softly kiss Jim's forehead. "I will be right here, as you get better."

Hunter may not know it, but Jim has never - ever - had anyone do that for him, not even his own mother. And he doesn't know how to feel about that, both the drugs and his own exhaustion conspiring against him to keep him from thinking too deeply on it at the moment.

He does, however, have one last request before he stops fighting to stay awake, and he manages a small, tired smile. "You bring anything good to read?" If nothing else, the sound of someone else's voice might help keep him grounded, to remind him that he's not alone, that he's not succumbing to the awful, cold darkness that lies beyond.

"I sure did." He holds up the book. "It is Roughing It, by Mark Twain."

The book looks to be in good condition.

Jim's not familiar with that particular book, but he's read Mark Twain before, and it's just a shame he's probably not going to stay awake long enough to pay attention to the plot. He certainly has no complaints about Hunter's choice in literature.

He closes his eyes and smiles faintly. "Go for it."

Edited 2017-05-28 17:07 (UTC)

It is a shame that Jim will sleep through the majority of the plot. It is a semi-autobiographical travel literature that follows the travels of young Mark Twain through the Wild West during the years 1861–1867. And it illustrates many of Twain's early adventures, including a visit to Salt Lake City, gold and silver prospecting, real-estate speculation, a journey to the Kingdom of Hawaii, and the beginnings as a writer for Mark Twain.

It is a perfect example of adventure and exploration.

Jim drifts off somewhere in the first few chapters, Hunter's steady voice accompanying him into uneasy dreams, holding darker memories at bay as he rests.

The captain sleeps a lot, for the first few days. Every now and then, he's out for the entirety of Hunter's visit, leaving his friend and crew to keep each other company. Other times he's awake enough to hold a conversation, and as the days pass, he gets stronger, staying awake for longer as McCoy reduces his dosage of painkillers, beginning to build up strength in a body weakened from radiation.

A week after Jim wakes up from the coma, his immune system is built up enough that he's moved to a normal room, on a higher floor of Starfleet Medical. The captain's sitting up in bed when Hunter arrives, and while he looks tired, it's the type one tends to get from a workout rather than being in need of sleep. "Hey!" Jim greets him with a small smile.

"Hey!" Hunter greets him with a smile. It has been a difficult couple of days, still seeing Jim's body take the time needed to heal and for him to get stronger. He has gotten to know his crew on a social level. Which has been nice, especially since Hunter feels like he has made some new friends.

And his bond with Jim has just gotten stronger and stronger during this time.

So it is a great thing to see him in a normal room. And sitting up in the bed. "Hey! Did you hit the pool or something?"

"I wish. PT's kicking my ass." Jim shakes his head a little. "Not that I'm complaining about being able to get out of bed or anything, but I think I made it all of ten steps." It's a bit embarrassing, to be honest, but Hunter's seen him high as a fucking kite on pain meds and sleeping the day away, so it doesn't sting as much as it used to.

"You will get there..." Hunter tells him softly. The PT is an important part of Jim's recovery, after all.

He smiles slightly, appreciating the encouragement for what it is. "Yeah, I know. I've always sucked at the whole... patience thing."

"Really?" Hunter smirked slightly. He grabbed a chair, and moved to sit beside Jim's bed. He grinned playfully. "I would have never guessed."

"So, how's the outside world doing?" Jim asks, trying to keep it casual. With the reduction of his pain meds, he's more alert, but this also means he's noticed that his crew have pretty steadfastly avoided any discussion of what happened to the Vengeance, or how Spock managed to capture Khan alive.

He doesn't expect Hunter to talk about it either, but he's itching for news that doesn't revolve around his medical condition. Anything would do, even any news from the Nexus.

"I can't really tell you anything about what's going on in your world... since half of it I can't know. Regulations and all of that..."

Hunter shrugs. It has been difficult receiving half-truths. But also, on his end, giving half-truths. Verity would be very unhappy with him about this whole situation of lies on top of lies.

"I have been working on a few new pieces. Something a little more raw..." A way for him to express his emotions on canvas.

"Because of me?" Jim asks, and he's not really smiling anymore. No matter how many times his crew have told him that none of this is his fault, he can't really accept it. Even if he was somehow blameless in the actions that caused this whole mess, it was his decision to go into the warp core, to sacrifice himself to save his ship, his crew. His fault they had to suffer through the pain of his death, and the struggle back to life, and the long road to recovery that he still faces, with their help. And of course it's his fault that Hunter has had to go through so much worry when he can't even know the reason why.

Hunter holds onto Jim's hand. He can see the guilt and emotions race over Jims face. Survivors guilt. He is aware of it... but has never experienced it.

"A little. But more because of me."

"I came here because I was worried about you. About our friendship. But over the last few weeks.... I have fallen a little bit more for you. And hate that I have to mislead your crew. They are such good people."

Survivor's guilt is nothing new to Jim. He had his first taste of it as soon as he was old enough to understand the sacrifice that George Kirk made on the day of Jim's birth, and he's had it again several times since. After Tarsus IV, after the destruction of Vulcan... and now, this. It's never something that gets easier, no matter how many times it happens.

Jim squeezes Hunter's hand a little, his grip noticeably stronger than it has been over the past week. And hearing that Hunter's fallen for him a bit... the last thing Jim wants to do is accidentally break Hunter's heart along the way. "I don't like lying to them either."

Hunter is not expecting anything from Jim. For most of the time that Hunter has been spending with Jim... the other man has been asleep in his coma. And he is not going to ask for anything more than Jim has already expressed that he wants.

"My best friend in the whole world feels pain when she is lied to. I can't help but think... she would be so disappointed in me. Even though there is good reason."

Jim knows that there's not really anything he can say that would help justify that kind of thing, and feelings aren't exactly subject to logic, no matter what Spock says. Having a good reason for lying doesn't take away the guilt.

But maybe there's a small olive branch he can offer. "There's no way we can tell everyone, but my senior crew... they can handle it." Jim draws in a breath, aware that what he's about to say will skirt the edge of classified information. "We found out something, about Starfleet. A secret branch of the service that's dedicated to developing advanced technology. They were going to use us to start a war with the Klingons, and it scares the shit out of me to imagine any Nexus technology in their hands."

Hunter frowns deeply. That just sounds like another good reasons why not to tell anyone. "That is some pretty scary shit."

"There is no good reason to start a war."

"Yeah," Jim agrees. "The guy in charge is dead now, but we don't have any idea who else is involved. But I know for a fact that none of my senior crew would have anything to do with that."

"Your senior crew are a pretty loyal bunch." Hunter agrees. He strokes his fingers across Jim's hand for a moment.

"I would just hate for them to think that I was some sort of spy, since you all just were involved in something similar. And for them to distrust me."

"They were very protective of you at the start of all of this." He explains.

"I'd back you up," Jim says, but he knows that Hunter already knows that too. He pauses, contemplating something, and hesitantly says, "If you were both willing, you could have Spock read your mind."

"It would ease my uneasiness..." Hunter admits softly. That has been the hardest part for him. He feels like he has been making real connections with the crew members. But it can't be truly real, if he is still lying to them.

And there doesn't seem to be any concern from Jim that the crew would distrust him. Which since they are so protective of Jim, Hunter would know would be a bad place to sit in.

"I'm not gonna lie," Jim warns him, "mind melds are weird. But as long as Spock's got a handle on his emotions, you shouldn't get any of the weirder side effects that I got. It'd be up to him, though. It's kind of... personal, I guess. But he's done it for tactical reasons before."

"He might not say it, but I am sure he will be concerned that I am a threat to you." Hunter saw how Jim's experience had shook up Spock on a personal level, even though not much was every expressed by the Vulcan.

Jim missed most of Spock's emotional outbursts, while he was out. The Vulcan didn't truly flip the fuck out until after Jim had breathed his last, and it wasn't until the captain woke from his coma that Spock was truly able to regain control over his turbulent emotions.

He frowns a little at Hunter. "After what we've been through, I guess I can understand that."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he has been trying to figure out what the hell it all means to him... just like I have been." Hunter knows that the Vulcan and him have different ways of dealing with their emotions.

It suddenly occurs to Jim that through all of this, he hasn't asked anyone else how they're handling it. And he gives Hunter an apologetic look, that twinge of guilt striking again. "You holding up okay?"

Hunter has been here every day, he's pretty sure. That's more dedication than he expected from someone not on his crew, even though had their positions been reversed, Jim would have sought out his own opportunities to visit.

"It has been hard..." Hunter feels his voice crack a little. Just like it had that first day when he found out about Jim being in a coma.

"Seeing someone I care about just lying there, and feeling so helpless."

Jim looks down at his hands, conflicted. He knows damn well that if he had to make the same choice again, he would still choose to go into the warp core. Even if McCoy hadn't been able to pull him back from death. But seeing what that decision did to his friends, his family... it's not easy. "I'm sorry."

"I know you did what you had to do..." Hunter reaches up to touch Jim's face gently. "You sacrificed your life to save your ship. Your crew. And you would do it again, if you had to."

"We almost lost you... and I..." Hunter lowers his head slightly. "That would have had a very profound effect on me."

Jim lifts his hand to cover Hunter's, warm and alive, knowing that it isn't enough. Not for himself, not for Hunter. This won't be a bump in the road that they can just laugh off and forget. Jim died, he fucking died, and he's still struggling to come to terms with that. He's reminded every day by his weakened body, the ache in his back where his spine had to be repaired, the way his hands still shake a bit, his body still raw and new, rebuilt from the cellular level up. He can't forget, even if he wanted to.

He can talk to Bones or Spock about anything, he knows. But it's hard, sometimes, knowing he has to look them in the eyes every day, knowing that - if Starfleet lets him keep the captain's chair after all this - he'll have to make life and death decisions for all the crew that serve under his command, even his friends.

He doesn't have that power over Hunter's life. And maybe that's why it's not as hard to open his mouth and admit, "I can't stop wondering if that's how it felt for my dad."

Hunter is grateful for the simple gesture. The touch. The warmth in Jim's hand is now normal. And he is no longer falling back to slumber within minutes. The strength is back. And is glad to see it.

"That he thought of everyone he cared about, in his final moments?"

He shakes his head. "Not that part, I know that for sure... I've heard recordings, up to the moment of impact. Of him and my mom talking to each other."

Jim looks away for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "The moment Scotty told me the warp core was misaligned, I knew there was no other way. The Enterprise was falling from the sky, and if someone didn't go in there to fix it, everyone onboard would be dead in minutes. I didn't even consider letting Scotty do it. I couldn't. I knocked him out so he couldn't stop me. And I knew I was a dead man before I ever opened that door. But I didn't really have time to think about it until after I fixed the core."

"The sacrifice of putting your own life before anyone else's." Hunter tilts his head. "Something that you will face again, surely, as a captain."

"It is a part of your life. Your job."

"But... you are worried about hurting others due to that part of your life."

Jim nods slowly, bringing his gaze back to Hunter. "I had some stupid thoughts, when I thought that was it. One of the worst ones was that while I wanted you to see me in my dress uniform, having it be at my funeral was the worst possible thing I could do to you. But I didn't even know if anyone would be able to reach you, or if I was just gonna disappear."

That thought does make a rush of emotions race through Hunter's heart. He has had people disappear on him before. And sometimes he does worry if it is because something bad happened to them. Or their world closed off to the Nexus, and he will never see them again.

He can feel a slight wetness to his eyes.

"It was too close of a call Jim. Almost losing you..."

"But a whole ship of people would have been lost, if you hadn't done what you did. And then, there would have been no way for anyone to reach me."

"I know. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Jim shakes his head a little. "I spent years hating my dad, thinking there must have been some other way out, that he just didn't try hard enough. But... now I know. The only difference is I'm still here, and he's not. And it's not because of anything I did."

"You have chosen a very weird way to get to know your father better. And to forgive him a little..." Hunter clicks his tongue a little. Teasing lightly.

He's not sure how, but Jim manages a small smile. "Wasn't how I planned it."

"Never is..." Hunter has to smile slightly himself.

And speaking of things that were not planned, but are still right there on the surface level. "The thing that you should know, before you fly off to your next adventure and your next choice... is that I am always very proud of you. Thinking of you. Caring for you."

Jim can't help but be a little taken aback by that. Not because he didn't think Hunter felt that way, but because he's spent a lifetime of almost nobody ever saying anything like that to him. Not even hinting, really.

And he doesn't really know what to say to that.

"That's... I..." It's not often that Jim Kirk is at a loss for words, but this whole situation has been an emotional clusterfuck of epic proportions, and he flounders a bit, torn between the discomfort of a lifetime of feeling unworthy of such a sentiment, and the appreciation for his friend, who's taken on such a heavy emotional burden with little to show for it.

"You really don't have to say anything..." Hunter reassures him softly. He didn't want to have his words to be something that was left unsaid, in case something happens next time.

It might be for the best. The last time someone told Jim that they loved him, all he could think to say was 'that's so weird,' which didn't go over well. But he still feels like he's got to say something.

"Hunter... you're really something, you know that?" he says instead, mustering up a smile.

Hunter laughs softly. "Thanks. I am one of a kind."

"So what should we handle next? The big reveal to your crew? Or this book I brought?"

"Might be a good idea to save the 'big reveal' for when they're all together... that way we don't have to explain it more than once." Plus it'll give Jim the chance to broach the subject with Spock first, and make sure he'd be willing to do the mind meld in the first place.

"Sure... use logic." Hunter laughs slightly.

"Or is it that you just really want to hear this Stephen King novel?"

"What can I say, Spock's a good influence on me." Jim smiles slightly. It sounds like a joke, but it's also kind of true.

"What d'ya have today?"

"It is called Mr. Mercedes. It is book one of a series, that was just released by the writer... in my timeline." The book Hunter holds up is practically new.

Jim raises his eyebrows with interest. "The Bill Hodges trilogy? I haven't read that in years."

Hunter has to laugh. "Oh great. I have not gotten to the third book yet... it was just released last year."

"So no spoilers..." He teases Jim.

"Don't worry, I know the 'whodunnit' etiquette," Jim answers, his smile small but genuine.

Hunter is glad to hear that. He makes himself comfortable. Then opens the book, starting to read from the start of the book. He has gotten used to reading to Jim... and doesn't mind doing it even now, when Jim is better and could easily read it himself.

Jim, for his part, finds that he doesn't really mind either. While he could read it faster on his own, and though it could be awkward to have his friend reading to him like a five year old wanting a bedtime story... Jim hasn't often had the experience of anyone reading anything to him, not since his brother Sam ran away from home.

It's kind of nice.

And besides... it's more about the company than the story, anyway.

Jim leans back against the pillows and listens to Hunter's voice, as he begins to read out the tale.

Hunter has been keeping every book that he has read to Jim. They will become a nice addition to his crate, when he gets back to his captain's quarters. After all of this, it is nice to just watch for genuine reactions on Jim's face now.

[Aww Hunter. :D Good spot to wrap up.]

[Very good spot. Great scene!]

[Jim's got a few more weeks of hospitalization and about a year before the Enterprise is repaired enough for missions to resume, so that leaves us lots of room for more threads, too. :D]

[[Sweet. I do enjoy having the opportunity for more threads. There is always the option of doing the 'tell-the-crew' scene. I would suggest something Hunter related, but since Jim is stuck in a hospital, those don't seem too feasible at the moment]

[Well we have been timeskipping a bunch. ;) So we could always just move ahead to after Jim's released from Starfleet Medical. Jim would prefer to tell the crew about the Nexus in a more private space than a Starfleet-owned hospital anyway, since Jim is concerned Section 31 might be monitoring things there.]

[If you don't mind another timeskip, and Jim-centric thread, that works for me. :D]

[I don't mind. :) Though we could also do a Hunter-centric thread just after his release, if you'd like. Nothing says the big reveal has to come next. And I wouldn't want Jim to monopolize everything.]

[I don't mind Jim monopolizing things right now. It seems appropriate]

[All righty then. :D I won't be able to start a new thread tonight, and I don't know what our plans are for holiday stuff tomorrow, but I'll see if I can get something up by Monday night.]

[No worries. Just throw me a message when the thread is up]

[Message thrown!]

The Long Silence [for losthunter]

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