boldygoing | Big Reveals [for losthunter]

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Big Reveals [for losthunter]

Jim has been in Starfleet Medical for eight weeks before he's finally released. Which is not to say he's been cleared for duty, mind you. But he's recovered enough not to need that kind of constant medical supervision, able to take the rest of his treatment as outpatient. He has physical therapy three times a week, exercises to do at home, and of course Doctor McCoy is still keeping an eagle eye on his diet, something that annoys Jim to no end.

Of course, that's nothing compared to finding out that his Starfleet-assigned apartment is buried under the crashed bulk of the USS Vengeance.

Jim doesn't really give a shit about the apartment itself. Yeah, it was kind of nice to have his own place, but it's never been home. It was just a place to stay whenever the Enterprise was in port. And though it was more decorated than his quarters onboard the ship, it was all meaningless knickknacks, nothing with any real sentimental value.

No, he's more pissed about the fact that nobody told him until a month after he woke up from the coma.

He understands why, of course. McCoy gave him the whole spiel about stress being bad for his recovery, about not needing to worry himself about things he couldn't do anything about, that by the time this happened Jim was already dead, but it's a heavy blow to realize that the loss of life was far, far greater than he'd realized. Tens of thousands died or lost their homes. Yet Jim Kirk lives, when he has no right to be breathing, let alone leaving the hospital.

And it's hard not to be in a foul mood when he realizes that the only place he has to stay on Earth is in Iowa, at the old neglected Kirk homestead. At least it's not likely to be bugged by Section 31, and Jim spends two entire days sweeping the place for surveillance devices, and another three to get the house in order, before he's reassured enough to have visitors.

[OOC: Image links to replace broken ones below:
23rd century Iowa
Mind meld position]

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He is at least glad the few who were all invited are people he had gotten to know, while Jim was in his coma. And he has a smile for Uhura, when she arrives.

"You asking me to reveal all my tricks?" He laughs softly. Not answering. But not lying either.

"Didn't realize you were a damn magician," McCoy grumbles, though Hunter will know by now that it's his default mood and not any kind of actual annoyance.

Spock regards Hunter with calm thoughtfulness, also reflecting on the lack of a second hovercar on Kirk family property. But he says nothing about it, inclining his head slightly. "Greetings, Hunter."

With Uhura's help, Jim brings the drinks out into the living room, still decorated with rather outdated furniture but at least it's clean. The strong scent of McCoy's black coffee mingles with the spicier scent of Spock's tea, and Uhura herself has some kind of yellow fruit punch. Jim takes a seat on one of the couches, not truly comfortable on the ancient padding, but drawing his comfort from the company instead.

Hunter has to only laugh at McCoy's grumbling. If he only knew that actual magic did still linger in Hunter's blood.

He can also see the Vulcan's mind slowly trying to piece together the puzzle, and knows it might not take him long.

Hunter takes note of the drinks that Jim serves to everyone. And takes a seat beside Jim, after grabbing his orange drink.

He feels a little jittery still. And part of him wants to do a 'so you are all wondering why I have brought you here today', as they did in the good old mystery movies. But he instead takes a sip of his drink.

Jim speaks first, setting his lemonade down on the low table in front of the couch. "So, we all haven't been completely honest here."

McCoy frowns deeply, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "Now, Jim..."

Uhura picks up on his choice of phrasing right away, of course. There's a reason she's earned her place as the head of communications aboard the Enterprise. "I assume it's nothing classified," she says, her gaze flicking to Hunter.

Jim tries not to laugh. "I don't even know who would classify it if it was."

"Nothing classified. The we that Jim is talking about, is me and him." Hunter smiles softly. "And how that neither of us have been completely honest about where I have come from."

"And how if any one wanted to try to find my personal records... they wouldn't be able to. I sort of... don't exist on your world."

Spock tilts his head slightly. "Clarify." He can think of several things that might mean, and they all carry different implications. Whether it's something as relatively simple as Hunter being a covert agent of some type - unlikely, given his markings - or as grandiose as being some sort of alien energy being, come to visit Earth.

"You know how Ambassador Spock came from an alternate universe?" Jim says, and he kinda wishes that wasn't the only example at hand, because a universe that diverged thanks to time travel meddling in the works is one thing. "Turns out there are a lot of 'em. Infinite, actually."

"Jim found his way into a gathering point of those alternate universes. We call it a Nexus. Where we met..."

"I am from a dimension, where the year is 2017."

"There is no space travel. No Starfleet. No food processors."

Spock peers at Hunter with that stoic speculative look he often wears, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts on the matter. In contrast, McCoy is expressive enough for the both of them, looking like he can't quite decide if he wants to be concerned that they've both suffered some kind of mutual hallucination, or possibly upset they didn't say anything sooner, or just plain skeptical of the whole matter.

Uhura responds first. "When did this happen? We didn't run into any spatial anomalies that could cause something like that."

Well, here goes the part that makes things sound really weird. Jim winces a little. "Apparently the doors to the Nexus can be pretty random. My first way in was, uh, Conference Room One." He pauses a moment while his crew stare at him and Hunter in disbelief. "That was just the one time."

"And you all had asked how I got here... I used a Nexus door, that Jim opened for me." Hunter wants to clarify that. "Someone else wouldn't have traveled here, until they had the right coordinates in the first place."

"The doors that lead into the Nexus usually only open for the person who they had intended to open them. It is actually a weird thing..."

"There is no danger to the person entering the Nexus either. There is an anti-violence field to prevent such things. And most people..." Jim gets a fond look from Hunter. "Find the brochures about the Nexus when they first enter, telling them about where they are. And how the place works."

"Intended? Someone controls access to this Nexus?" Uhura asks, picking up on that key phrase.

Jim, of course, is giving Hunter a similarly fond look, though this one has undertones of 'what, it's not my fault the brochures sounded like total bullshit.'

"Fascinating," Spock murmurs, his brow furrowed ever so minutely. "Captain, your prediction that this conversation would arouse skepticism was a logical one."

"Logical?" McCoy sputters. "Nothing about this is logical, Spock."

"Something controls the Nexus." Hunter voices it as an opinion. "The doors only open when there is a damn good reason. Usually because someone needs assistance that can only be provided by others in the Nexus."

"There is this general meeting place, where a person could ask a question, and have anyone... from any dimension, give them advice."

"I had been soul-searching myself, the first time I found myself there."

McCoy frowns even more, if that's even possible. "And what the hell were you looking for?" he asks Jim.

Jim shrugs. "Nothing, at the time." And it's just now occurred to him that whatever controls the Nexus may have known that he could use some help in the days after his first foray into its meeting grounds. Why not? Apparently time is no object, and things aren't always linear. But this might not be the best time to bring that up.

"Please forgive me, but while such things are theoretically possible, it is an... extraordinary claim," Spock says to Hunter, clasping his hands together in front of himself. "There is no other logical answer to much that I have noticed regarding your relation to the captain. But as a scientist, I am ill-equipped to take such matters on faith alone."

"We sort of thought that it would be difficult to take matters on faith alone." Hunter nods slightly.

He glances at Jim, not sure if he should be the one to offer the mind meld or not. "But I am willing to help provide scientific proof. However, you feel is best..."

"You speak of the mind meld technique," Spock says, and it isn't a question. Hunter mentioned it at Starfleet Medical, that first day he came to see their comatose captain. How he knows about it is another matter entirely, given that the year Hunter claims to call his home is pre-first contact.

"Jim told me about how Ambassador Spock used the technique on him." Hunter explains, answering the unasked question about how he knows about it.

Edited 2017-05-30 15:59 (UTC)

"He did what now?" McCoy demands, his head whipping around to glare accusingly at Jim.

"Later, Bones," Jim says, suppressing a sigh. It happened over a year ago but it's no surprise that the doctor is still going to fuss over the part where it happened at all. The captain looks back towards Spock. "I realize it's kind of a drastic step to take but it seemed... easier."

Spock looks contemplatively at Hunter. "It is not a thing to be undertaken lightly," he warns him. "There is no possibility of relaying falsehoods in the meld, but neither is there privacy. A master of Kolinahr would be able to present only structured, ordered thoughts to be read with a surface meld, but human minds are not so disciplined. Even a stray thought or memory may be transferred between parties, with no regard for intimacy or secrecy. If you still wish to present your proof in such a manner, it is your choice."

"I have nothing to hide..." Hunter tells him, and everyone in the room.

"And so it doesn't come as a surprise... since we have had enough of those... my appearance was altered by magic by a Witch in my world. She would have a strong presence in my mind still. She created the tattoos and the piercings that cover me. And there is still some of her magic that is within me."

Jim had rather hoped to leave the magic bombshell until after his crew have gotten over the multiverse thing, but at least Hunter has a good reason for springing it this soon. Of course, they're all looking at both of them like they're absolutely nuts.

"He really believes it," Uhura says, able to tell just by listening to Hunter's voice that he's being truthful, to the extent of his own knowledge. No magic or telepathy needed on her part; she's just that good.

"But magic's not possible," McCoy protests in disbelief.

"Not entirely correct, doctor," Spock says thoughtfully. "Humankind once believed that abilities outside their own capacity were impossible, and yet, you do not disbelieve that I am able to touch the minds of others."

"And I can show you the little control over the magic that I do have..." Hunter is glad that he has been taking his time to learn more about his own abilities.

"I shall be interested to see it," Spock says, and sets down his tea. "However, I must first verify that I am not proceeding forth on false assumptions. With your consent, I will touch your mind and corroborate the truth you offer."

"Consider my consent given." Hunter sets down his own glass of juice. He feels a little nervous, but reminds himself to stay calm.

Spock clasps his own hands together, index fingers against one another, ordering his own thoughts. "If you are familiar with meditative techniques, it would be wise to employ them to clear your mind. If not, calm your emotions to the best of your ability. Focus your thoughts on this Nexus you speak of. I shall not attempt to probe deeper, but as I said before, I will not be able to ignore stray thoughts."

"Clear my mind..." Hunter nods in understanding. He thinks about his rose garden first, the place where he feels most at peace. Then starts to focus his mind on the Nexus. The people he has met there. The experiences he has had there. The friends made. And just tries to keep his mind focused only on that.

Spock moves slightly closer, and reaches one hand out toward Hunter, lightly touching the pads of his fingers against specific points on the other man's face. His hands aren't quite as warm as a human's would be, but it's not uncomfortably cold, just cool. "Nahp, hif-bi tu throks," he says, his voice taking on an intonation that would not be out of place in a ritualistic setting. "My mind to your mind... my thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds... one and together."

It's like being at the top of the first hill on a rollercoaster, poised in a moment in time, waiting for the inevitable plunge into chaos and mayhem. Spock's mind is like a vast desert, massive stones arranged in logical patterns, but on the horizon, a dark storm gathers, and behind it lurks a deep ocean of emotions, locked away from the desert through rigid self-control. And the desert still bears the scars of a great flood, when the ocean ripped through the desert and tore his hard-earned stoicism to shreds.

Voices swirl between them, momentary phrases and snatches of words, but nothing solid, the proper memories where they come from dismissed almost as soon as they arise. The probing presence of Spock pushes deeper into Hunter's mind, exploring the shape of it, and listening for the truth in his thoughts.

The experience of that moment in time, waiting for that inevitable plunge of chaos and mayhem is one that Hunter is surprisingly familiar with. The feeling makes him think of a young girl, with bright green eyes, where a reflection of a young man can be seen in the depths of her eyes.

Then there is the sensation of 'seeing' Spock's mind. The logical patterns appeal to Hunter's artistic side. The dark storm beyond attracts his curiosity. There is something calming about the imagery of the desert for Hunter. He imagines a rose, blooming against all odds in the desert setting.

It is that rose that invokes Hunter's first memories of the Nexus. Painting by a lake, and getting to meet Verity and Schön. Those friends who were the first people who accepted him, when he was still struggling with his changed appearance. The friends who supported him to become someone stronger.

It was in the Nexus where he met some lifelong friends. He met some amazing people like Will Kent, Loki, Matt, Han Solo, Rhys, Captain Jack, and so many more. He had experiences that one could have never imagined, like getting to fly at the Samhain ball because Verity was Tinker Bell. Or going to the beach barbecue, and getting to meet Groot, a huge tree-like creature who could only say three words in English. Or being a support to those in need, like the symbiotic alien Faris.

Of course, that young woman is still in his Nexus memories. The emotions tied to her include anger, confusion, grief, sorrow, loss. A dance at Samhain was the last time Hunter saw her, before she walked away and out of his life.

And there is a general feeling that Hunter would be lost without the Nexus. He would still be that shy and self-conscious young man. He would have not embraced the opportunity for new art creations. He would have never had the chance to design for a museum that honored the world of his best friend -- whose door was permanently closed, since her world was erased from existence. He would have never had the nerve to stand up to his father, demanding his inheritance so he could create the foundation.

Hunter would not be the man he is now... sitting in this room, without the influence of the Nexus. And the people who has met there.

And somewhere, in his memories, Kendra smiles a little. As if she had know the whole time that it was a place he needed to be.

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