boldygoing | Catching Up [for smartass

Catching Up [for smartass_captain, backdated]

There's a good deal to do in the wake of the attack on Yorktown, even once he's given his debriefing to both the station's leadership as well as Starfleet Command. A thorough census of the survivors, checking in with the injured, composing letters for the families of the confirmed dead. For once, however, it feels as though he's not alone in such things, Yorktown in able hands as the station's leadership takes control of a good deal of the cleanup. It's strange, having both more and less paperwork than Jim had assumed there might be.

He'd be perfectly entitled to a leave on grounds of stress, but Jim has never been very good at just sitting still when there's work to be done.

It's an easier pace to keep up with, and despite taking it slow, he still finds that he has time to himself every day, time when he isn't really sure what to do with himself. Not until arrangements can be made to return to the planet and pick through the ruins of Enterprise.

An extended absence might be noted, but no one's likely to come looking for him in the night cycle, and there are no more shipboard emergencies that may demand his attention.

Two days after the attack on Yorktown, as the station's cycle turns to evening, he sends a message. Well you don't have to worry about me finding out anymore. Chess?

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It's almost a relief to see the younger captain not look so haunted in the same way Jim had been. Almost, because being the weaker party still prickles at something jagged inside of him. He's not so much a slave to his insecurities these days though. Jim sighs.

He listens.

He doesn't have to fake the slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he leans his head his counterpart's way. "Glad you weren't as much of a wreck as I was, then. I was curious to see if that was still going to be a thing. If you...were going to take it."

"Believe me, the birthday thing... it's been a whammy this year. There's a part of me that still doesn't really believe I made it this far." He shakes his head and takes another drink, and rolls the glass a little in his hand.

"...you know, I really did think maybe this was it. If I did something different, if this is where things diverged again." This is where things get a little sticky. A secret to share, something he's kept to himself so far, and the guilt of the dishonesty is weighing on him a little. "I sent Zunar to Hunter before all this. I told him it was just so he could feel closer to me, but I wanted both of them out of harm's way, in case the worst should happen. Hunter doesn't know."

"I get that." Jim had been pretty sure he wasn't walking away from any of it alive the moment he gave the evacuation order for the Enterprise. Every step of the way from rescuing what was left of the crew to saving Yorktown? A breath he was only taking in while he waited for his last. Desperate in the middle of it not to go before the job was done...

But pretty sure he wasn't going to make it out alive right until he did.

"You don't have to tell him. It's all worked out now and, to be honest, it'd probably just land you in an argument if you did." Jim exhales slowly as his gaze falls to his own drink. "Hunter's probably better about being open than Felix is, but even then." Jim shakes his head.

"Felix doesn't Get It. He's not like me. Like us. He can't and won't make the sacrifice play. Better for me that he won't. Means I have to worry about his safety less. Means he worries about mine more. I've tried explaining to him why I do the things I do. Why I won't stop, not entirely."

He shakes his head.

"Maybe Hunter's different. From where I'm sitting though, it's a losing battle trying to explain your every reason for protecting those most important to you."

Whether Jim realizes it or not, this is the reason why he called his companion here for a game. Second-guessing oneself is exhausting, but who else to tell him what he needs to hear? Who else who would understand what it is to be Jim Kirk?

There's a pensive look on his face as he listens, and he lets out a soft sigh. "Probably. If he knew I thought I might die, and didn't tell him..." Jim shakes his head and takes a slow drink of brandy. "It's not like it's even close to the first time I've been in danger out in the black. We take that risk every day. That's just how it is in the 'fleet. Not a one of us signed up not knowing that."

It's been the truth hanging over them since the day they were born, stuck in the shadow of a man they've never met. Jim has never known a day where he hasn't known being Starfleet can be the end of you. And yet, here he is, still. Older than his father ever was, when he never thought he'd make it this far at all.

But hearing his counterpart, his own voice, telling him that he's made the right call... it helps. Jim leans back a little, resting the half-empty glass against his knee. "I don't want to lose him. Especially not over this."

"If he knew. There's no point in inviting a fight." Jim points around the glass he's holding. The risks out in space everyone gets taught, but no one knows them quite the way Jim does. They've not had their whole lives shaped by that truth over and over. "Think about what you're doing here. You go admit that to him, what's that going to get either of you? A fight neither of you want, an excuse he needs to second guess his trust in you. When we both know it's not like that. It's not about trying to die."

Jim finishes off the last of his first glass before he stares down into it.

"It's about...doing what you Can do. Instead of nothing. It's about not losing Spock or Bones. Any of them. Or hell, Hunter, if he's serious about wanting a spot on a ship once he's out of the Academy. Seeking him out to admit something like that...that's self sabotage. If you don't want to lose him, don't. We don't have to keep this shit to ourselves anymore, that's what This is for."

"If he won't understand, then come to me. I do."

Every word he says rings true, the same arguments that Jim has gone round and round in his head. What if Hunter finds out later? Would it really be much different than if he found out now? Why invite trouble, when he might never find out at all?

"Yeah... you're right." Of course he is. There are plenty of things that Jim Kirk gets wrong, here and there. But there's no better way out of this, not that Jim can see. Either of him.

He doesn't finish his drink just yet, watching the last few ounces slowly swirl in the glass. Damn shame this doesn't do more for him than the taste, but the habit alone helps. "He was pretty shaken by the time I got to call him. It was all over the news, what happened to the Enterprise." He lifts the glass slightly in a toast, and drains the last of it.

"We haven't been back yet, but I hope there's something to salvage. I had some... sentimental things." He says it like he's confessing to something secret and strange, and in a way, it has been. He's always lived light, rarely accumulating more than he could fit in a backpack. Not since he met Hunter. Not since he's been captain. Not since he'd started to build something that felt like home. "Mostly little things Hunter got me. He built me a bookshelf, even."

"Yeah, I remember telling you not to check it when you and Felix were at the farmhouse. I knew...there was no way to keep any of it under wraps if you'd even turned on a device."

But then, his alternate is all too aware now of how saturated the feeds have been with news about Yorktown. "To the Enterprise," Jim agrees. All he has to lift is his empty glass, but the meaning's still there.

"Oh." And here the older captain's face closes off for a few seconds. Jim doesn't think he could school his expression well enough if he was looking his younger counterpart in the eye. "I hope there's more left for you than there was for me."

That expression doesn't bode well, nor does the comment that goes with it. But in a way, it's also a reminder that for all that their experiences sometimes mirror each other, they're just as often divergent. Will this be one of the former, or the latter? There's little point in modeling his expectations on a future that isn't his, especially not now. No matter how easy it is to compare notes.

He can't not ask, regardless. "Did anything of yours make it?"

"Almost nothing. What did fit into a shoebox with room to spare." Jim shakes his head, and at first that seems like it's all he's going to say on the matter. The memory is a dull ache between his ribs, one more old would that hasn't fully healed. It's not until he thinks to himself what was kept that a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth despite all Jim's attempts to be somber.

"The picture I had of Mom, Dad, and Sam from before we were born. It was damaged but I've been able to get it fixed since. A partially burned book. And a half melted amulet. It was....supposed to be my engagement gift to Felix." Jim snorts then. "He took it anyway. His taste in jewelry is about as flawed as his taste in men."

When Jim glances up again he's less leaden in the face. "Guess that makes me lucky he does."

For a moment, Jim regrets asking, though the answer is far from unexpected. He's about to apologize when his companion continues, some of that melancholy weight lifting from his shoulders. It's not much. But the things he did manage to salvage? Their importance speaks for itself.

"Nobody's perfect," he agrees, a fainter echo of that same smile on his own face.

He sets his empty glass next to the chessboard and pours another small splash of brandy, just enough to nurse as they talk. Eyebrows raised in silent question, he tilts the bottle in his companion's direction.

Once the drinks are sorted, he leans back slightly again, looking thoughtful. "Makes me wonder what comes after this, you know. Didn't think I'd make it this far. Settling down planetside... it's got an appeal to it. Eventually."

Jim lifts his glass automatically, before his hand twitches and he pulls it back. Restraint from the man whom the brandy still very much affects. "Best not. Besides, I don't need it." It's almost revolutionary to realize that's true.

The memories are painful but Jim doesn't feel that pain so sharply he wants to drown it out. Whether it's time that's matured him and dulled the wound, or simply being in a better place than they've been for much of their lives Jim doesn't know. His smile grows a little stronger. Though it's only going to morph into a loud groan when his companion mentions settling planetside. Too dramatic to be serious though.

"Fuck, don't remind me. We're just wrapping up our last sweep before we head back. Even with the holdover in Yorktown it's gone by so fast. I don't want to think about being stuck on terra firma again already."

It's strange indeed to be sitting here across from each other, in the aftermath of the worst disaster of his career, feeling like this is... some kind of new lease on life, somehow. If Jim was a more cynical man by nature, he might feel even more shackled by George Kirk's legacy, but... it feels the opposite. Moving out from under his shadow, somehow.

One year older.

"Ah, I dunno. You could always ask to go back out again," he says, and even though he's smiling, it's not really a joke. "First five-year mission doesn't mean 'only.' Plenty of space still left out there in the black. A job that's never finished, but... who knows what's out there?"

There's no steps left in the dance they always felt they had to but didn't want to play. George Kirk died to protect his crew and their lives. They've done the same, only thanks to extraordinary circumstances they've lived to talk about it after. Aging out their father...for Jim, at the time, it was terrifying. Depressing. The feelings of being unworthy of still being around when George was gone were tremendous.

But he wasn't doing so great around the time this all went down. His alternate? Seems to be in a much better place. Jim's grateful for that. Not to say he wouldn't have torn up the Nexus trying to find a way to reach his alternate if that's what it took. Jim knows he owes that favor. It's just....a relief to see one of them healthier than he was. Better prepared.

Maybe he shouldn't have been. Jim can't find it in himself to regret it.

"Of course I'm going to--but it won't be the same." A little wistful. He's grown to know the people under his command so well these last several years. Especially the ones who have survived this long. Some of them won't go back out again but that's been true of every mission. Even among those who have stayed with him this long....they've got lives too. Families. Promotions to chase. It's not going to stay like this forever. There was a time that would terrify him.

It still makes him nervous. But he's not agonizing every day they get closer to Earth, either. Things change. Maybe something great will come with it. Even if it's not quite the ramshackle family Jim's carved for himself out of his crew.

"I'll be asking to go back out there until they refuse, more than likely. Felix is taking well to it. But he's not seen much of Earth. Guess there's an opportunity there, too. To not lose my mind quite so quickly."

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Catching Up [for smartass_captain, backdated]

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