Amara Carroll / Maid Marian (needsofthemany) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-06-11 09:05:00 |
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When they first began the movies, Jim was in a good mood. It took him longer than he cared to admit to get the television working the first day. He tried to speak to it, and there was no response. Same with the communicator and computer. Outdated. He insisted on making popcorn to go with the movies, because that was the only way to do it properly. The first movie had plenty of Jim commentary, joking about how old they’d gotten and that being an Admiral didn’t suit him. Not to mention teasing Spock that he could never stay away from the Enterprise for long; neither of them could. So the first one went by without an incident. Jim was sprawled out on the couch as he watched. He was the type of man who could take up a lot of space without being large. When Wrath of Khan started and the warlord first appeared, the smile drifted off his face and he leaned forward, sombering almost at once. It was not difficult for him to connect quickly with what was happening on screen; he couldn’t detach himself emotionally from it. The only thing that brought a smile to his face was when Carol and David appeared, and he felt something stir in his heart. “He did get his mother’s looks after all....” he said softly, with no small amount of pride, because he also had her brains. And Jim’s stubbornness. His son, the one he never got to meet. He agreed to stay away, but few days went by when he didn’t wonder. Jim was someone who had no shame when it came to his emotions. It was the opposite of Spock, really. He embraced them freely, and he let his heart and gut guide him. So when his closest friend died, it hurt, and he hurt for his future, and he almost … almost reached out to touch his First Officer. As a solid reminder it was well. He stopped himself before he could, because he knew Spock preferred a respectful distance most of the time. Besides, after a few moments, he remembered that his Spock was right there, and beyond that his future self eventually got stuck in an alternate universe. It was difficult to see his friend die, but the logic did set in that all would be well. “Well that was dramatic, yes?” Jim smiled but it was strained. He felt a strange sense of coming dread, like this was not going to be the fun romp he expected. Perhaps it was because they were movies and everyone was fond of them, so he assumed it would be adventures. Nothing like this. Still he was stubborn, and he was going to at least see long enough for Spock to come back. The third one was titled the Search for Spock at least. He was amused at the idea of Spock living inside Bones’ head. The doctor wouldn’t like that much. It was strange and made no sense, but Jim stopped trying to make sense of these things a long time ago. And then, and then. David’s dead. It kept ringing in his ears and Jim was blocking out whatever was happening on the screen, because all he could hear was those two words. “Computer, stop the movie. Pause the … stop it!” His mind wasn’t working fast enough to remember that he couldn’t order this off so it kept going. “Will you get this thing to stop? We need to rewind, I need to …” Reverse what happened? Stop it somehow? Jim didn’t know but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the moment. Spock had, of course, already seen the movies but he certainly didn’t object to a second viewing. His memory, while excellent, was not infallible and certainly the events of the movies had overridden some of his ability to recall what had happened. He hadn’t forgotten the essentials but it was the smaller things, the nuances, that he wished to observe this time. There was also the undeniable desire to be here when the Captain viewed the second and third movies. He had been considerably taken aback by the events depicted in them and if he had reacted like that, the Captain’s reaction was likely to be far worse. Spock could at least be certain he had acted in the best interests of all and that his death had not been meaningless. Spock could logically rationalise what had happened... or would happen. Jim would by necessity be watching the deaths of people he cared about and he had never taken well to that when it was mere crewmen and women. Watching his older self set up the process of giving his katra to Dr McCoy had been... interesting. The decision was entirely logical as Dr McCoy had been the only person present. His decision to render Dr McCoy unconscious was also logical. The good Doctor would not have allowed him to do what was needed without unnecessary argument... and while he enjoyed a good argument with Dr McCoy, there had been no time for it. He had no doubt expected that his katra would be returned to his ancestors as was traditional. He had underestimated not only the Genesis Project but the stubbornness and determination of his friends. And then David died. Stubbornly, bravely, recklessly. In an act worthy of his father, yet not so successful. Attempting to protect the young half-Vulcan Saavik who was Spock’s protege. In retrospect, Spock could see that perhaps he should have given some warning and yet... how does one warn about such a thing? So he did what he could. He reached for the remote control and quickly pressed pause. He placed the remote down on the coffee table and turned to Jim. “Captain... Jim?” Vulcans did not, by and large, indulge in physical contact. They were touch telepaths so the reasons were obvious. But Spock had occasionally made exceptions when the cause was sufficient and he deemed this to be such a case. He grasped Jim’s shoulder. He felt a bit lost for words. Human emotions had never been something he had been able to easily handle so he fell back into Vulcan ritual. Contrary to popular opinion, Vulcans did have emotions. They simply mastered them. They knew such things as grief though and thus when he continued, there was true sincerity in his words. “I grieve with thee.” Jim thought turning it off would somehow make it better, but he stared at the screen and let the shock take over. He left his son behind, kept his promise to Carol, and now he knew he would never get the chance to fully repair what David lost. Any future he might have dreamed of for them was lost to him. His beautiful, brave, brilliant child. He gave his life to save another, and yet Jim would give anything to change it. As selfish as it was, in a desperate thought, he would have bargained Saavik’s life. It was wrong, but there was too much wrong already. He closed his eyes and suddenly remembered to breathe, taking in a ragged one. Tears sprang to his eyes and he didn’t try to stop them, couldn’t worry about that now, because what was pride when it came to pain. “My son, Spock. My ….” He choked on the word and put his head in his hands. If there was a way to cripple a person by sheer grief alone, he felt that now, understood why he fell to the ground when it happened. Luckily he was sitting, but he leaned into Spock’s touch mostly due to having no control over it. “I should have never. I should have stopped. This isn’t right. He was supposed to stay away from me. That was the point. It was why....” Why he let him go, why he agreed with Carol, why he never reached out. To stop this very thing. “My father. Sam. David.” Each lost, each a scar left, and this one was open and agonizing. With the first two he pushed forward and moved on, he had the Enterprise and work to do. But now he had nothing to distract him, nothing to force him go swallow it down. Jim looked over at his friend. “Is there nothing left but grief?” Watching what he did, he was not sure. Spock could feel Jim’s grief through the physical contact and while his instinct was to shy away from such strong emotion, he did not. He could not. He owed this man too much and he knew that if he did, Jim would likely view it as a rejection, that he did not care. Spock would be loathe to admit it out loud but he did care. “Jim...” He hesitated a moment. Dr McCoy had accused him of being cold and heartless in the past. Spock would say he was simply being logical but pure logic was not what Jim wanted to hear right now. “You had no way of knowing he was there so how could he have stayed away from you or you from him? The circumstances that brought you together were out of your control. You did not cause his death. He was proud of you. He was proud to be your son. He was glad to have met you.” “There is always something,” he said. “I am here. Our counterparts are here. There is an entire world to discover and explore.” If Jim was of a mind to understand how much emotion Spock was opening himself to, he would be grateful, but he could only wallow in what he was already feeling. It was selfish, and in that moment, he had to be selfish. “There had to be a way. I should have protected him. He was on Genesis, it was a dangerous place. If I had a place in his life before, I could have steered him in a different direction.” There were so many ifs and buts and could bes, and they never amounted to anything. All the same he had to go through them in an act of desperation. Eventually he’d accept Spock was right. For now he had to dwell in the what ifs. “What did he have to be proud of?” This was where the heart of his grief was the heaviest. “A father who abandoned him. He needed me for two decades, and where was I?” Jim usually reassured himself that he made the best decision for David by leaving. His mother was powerful and brilliant, she would protect their child and give him the very best. They were scientists, researchers, surely there was no concern about their physical safety. “Dead at twenty-four. I gave him a reckless nature, and look what happened.” He seemed to realize a few minutes too late how much he was leaning on the other man, and what that would mean for a Vulcan. It was a long realization and Jim pulled away, giving his friend space. “If there’s an entire world to discover and explore, why are you still here? You’ve been here for months, haven’t you?” Spock was not surprised that Jim was feeling this so hard and so deeply. He had always taken things so very much to heart, felt things so deeply. It had baffled Spock when Jim had first been assigned as Captain of the Enterprise and for a while he’d wondered whether they would be able to work together successfully, whether they were just too different. He had come to understand in those first few months that while, yes, Jim did feel things deeply, it did not mean he could not and would not think. He simply needed to feel first. It had, in many ways, been the reason why Spock had come to understand his own and others emotion. “Would you deny him the right to make his own decisions?” he asked. “It is my experience that young Humans, if they are restricted by a parent, tend to rebel most egregiously.” He raised an eyebrow. “And Jim... you are not omniscient or omnipresent. You could not control what happened. The only person who is to blame for David’s death is the Klingon who killed him.” “A father who honoured the wishes of his child’s mother and kept his promise. A father who was not selfish enough to appear and disappear in his child’s life, leaving him wondering and confused.” It was true that David had inherited Jim’s reckless nature but... “It is my experience that young men are often reckless regardless of their parentage and if he inherited your reckless nature, he also inherited your courage and bravery and sense of right and wrong. He could have let Saavik die. No one would have faulted him. He was a civilian, a scientist and she is a Starfleet officer.” Spock was both relieved and slightly disappointed when Jim pulled away. The other man’s emotions had been powerful, almost overwhelming, and yet he did not wish to leave Jim bereft if the support was what he needed. “I have been working for SHIELD.” He looked over at the television though he did not see the picture on the screen except as an abstract. “And perhaps I have been... waiting.” It was illogical but the statement felt correct. He had, in a sense, been waiting. Waiting for the tesseract to bring the Captain here. “Yes, I would deny him. I would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Carol wanted him to stay away from space and Starfleet, and she was right.” Now Jim couldn’t help but think of the Carol here. She was not in a relationship with the other him, there was no David to consider. Did she know? Would it matter? And the other Jim. He wondered if that was something he cared about. He didn’t know much about his AU self. It was not a burden he needed to share with either of them, especially if it mattered little. David would have to be his burden. His scar. “I failed him. The one time in his life where I could look over him freely, and I missed it.” Jim looked over at Spock, and even in the midst of great inner turmoil, he was capable of a brief glimmer of humor. He had doubts about them working together too, in the beginning, although as an optimist he hoped for the best. He knew about his first officer’s heritage and what that may mean, but he was confident they were both professionals. He never expected their friendship. Many people got along well with their crew or officers, but in a polite and official way. The Enterprise was special. He believed that, biased or not. They were different. Why else would people write stories and movies about them? “Remind me to have you speak at my eulogy, Spock. You have an unusual way of highlighting my flaws in a new light.” Hazel eyes watched his friend carefully when he answered the question. “Waiting,” he echoed quietly. There was a great deal that could remain unspoken between them, as if the things they didn’t say filled in and they just understood either way. Jim didn’t need Spock to admit he was waiting for him. Instead he smiled faintly. “That sounded dangerously close to sentimentality, Mr. Spock. Or did you think only I could lead you into the unknown?” Spock raised an eyebrow. “And had you tried, given his nature, would he not have run as far and as fast into danger as he could, just to try and prove you wrong?” It was a subject he was uncomfortably well qualified to speak about. Had he not reacted precisely the same way in the face of Sarek’s determination to have him go to the Vulcan Science Academy and stay safely on Vulcan? He had run in the opposite direction, into Starfleet and the inevitable danger and intellectual challenge that exploration of the unknown provided. Spock’s eyebrow remained up and he refrained from observing that given their respective heritages that the fact that he would live long enough to speak at Jim’s funeral was inevitable. He’d been told in the past that saying such things was morbid. “Are we not the sum of our strengths and flaws?” “It is illogical, I agree,” Spock said, the barest of frowns sliding across his face. “And yet I cannot deny that it is true. It is most curious.” He could not even say that he had been hoping for the tesseract to bring Jim through. Hope was even more illogical than waiting, especially taking the tesseract’s nature into account. Faint amusement now took the place of the frown. “I suspect your counterpart could do equally well with leading me into the unknown but he... has his own Spock. I would not wish to intrude.” The eyebrow went up again. “Especially not after all the effort to which my future self went to ensure they would have their chance.” “I don’t know,” Jim said softly, “because I never tried.” Rebellion was a part of youth, that was true, but David was past his teenage years. There was no way of knowing who he would be if he grew up knowing his father. Perhaps some people would’ve seen the ways it could go wrong, but this was one instance where Jim’s optimism worked against him. Because all he could see were the ways being there for his son was a better option. “This other me, it took the death of his father to turn out differently. One major choice can change who a person becomes, we know that for sure.” And with David, he’d never know for sure. He ran his hands over his face, the tears long since brushed away, but they stained his skin, or perhaps it only felt that way. Jim felt … old. As old as his counterpart said on the screen. “Old and weary,” he said out loud, as if Spock could hear his inner thought process. But it wasn’t a difficult leap to take. It was over a decade before he got there, and after experience like that, it might as well be a week. He felt older. “I would hate to see what my sum would look like at the end. I think more varied than I’d like.” He knew Spock would outlive him, that was only natural. “Equally well? Oh really?” Both his eyebrows went up at that. “I’m not certain how much I like being interchangeable with the other Kirk for your attention, Spock.” His sense of humor was subdued due to the emotional blow of David’s death, but Jim smiled just enough to indicate to Spock he was teasing. He knew the Vulcan couldn’t always pick up on tone without a little help. He shook his head. “I’m not worried about them. They’ve gone through a great deal together, and we know for ourselves what that sort of experience can do for a team. Besides, they’re not us. Our relationship can’t be duplicated. They’ll find their own way.” Spock was pensive for a moment. “Fathers and sons do not always have the most congenial relationship. There are, of course, exceptions but fathers have expectations that sons do not necessarily wish to live up to and sometimes sons assume there are expectations when perhaps they do not exist.” He looked over at Jim. He had not specifically referred to his own father and their relationship but Jim had seen at least part of it when his parents were aboard the ship. “Had he known you, he may well have felt the need to join Starfleet, whether you wished to or not. It is impossible to tell and dwelling on what ifs and maybes is highly illogical.” The last was said with something as close to wry friendly affection as Spock ever allowed in his voice. He looked at Jim for a long moment then back at the television screen. When he turned back to Jim, there was that faint trace of humour in his voice again. “Not so old nor so weary. Not now nor in the future when this will occur.” He paused and if he were human, there would something almost impish in the way he spoke when he continued. As he was not, it was of course all in the mind of the listener or so he would claim. “Any man who can bully Starfleet Command into giving him back his ship, his crew and a new mission of deep space exploration after breaking as many rules and regulations as we will do in the aftermath of all of this can never claim to be old and weary.” He frowned for the barest moment at Jim’s response then saw his smile and the frown disappeared as he realised Jim was teasing. “Hardly interchangeable. Perhaps equally as capable in your own unique ways would be a better way of wording it.” There was logic in the things Jim had to say and he suspected his future self knew that as well. He had meddled enough to put them together. The rest was up to them. “They will. They simply needed the nudge to take the path together. My counterpart was intending to leave Starfleet and take his place on New Vulcan to assist in the rebuilding effort. I simply reminded him that there was no need. He could continue on the path of his choice while I went to New Vulcan.” “Highly illogical, yes, but that should be no surprise to you.” It was not hard for Jim to put two and two together when it came to Spock and his father. It was clear the Vulcan was speaking from personal experience, and he did see the two of them together. “I wanted to be in Starfleet because of my father. I stayed because I knew it was the right place for me.” It was not an easy experience. It took a lot of work to rise up through the ranks, so emulating a father wasn’t a good enough reason after awhile. He cared about Starfleet. He believed in their mission. “I suppose if you asked me how I wanted to die, protecting the life of another would be an option.” It didn’t change the pain of David’s loss, so early in his life. So early in their time together. It was an ache that he thought might never heal. There were few things that could get Jim smiling when he was at his lowest, and seeing Spock try even a little to tease was one of them. When Jim smiled it was infectious and warm, and he gently lay a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You definitely need to do the eulogy. I’m starting to believe I’m better than I am, through your eyes. Of course I’m not entirely sure you meant that as a compliment. Bully is a harsh word. Breaking too. Firmly suggesting to Starfleet to give me my ship and bending the rules would probably sound better.” Jim liked using tricky language to explain his more dubious actions. He squeezed Spock’s shoulder, locking their eyes, and he might not say the words, but the gratitude was clear. Thank you for being here with me. That message given, he removed his hand and settled wearily back on the couch, rubbing his fingers against his eyes. “As long as you still like me best, Spock.” Jim knew every Captain was unique to his/her crew, so he was being facetious. “New Vulcan.” He remembered Vulcan well from when they had to bring Spock back. Jim almost died on that planet, and he couldn’t say he was in a hurry to get back, but a planet being destroyed was a terrible thing. “Are you all right? I know it wasn’t your Vulcan but ….” It was hard to say if that mattered. They were navigating strange and unknown waters here. “It’s still a version of your home.” It was true that Spock was no longer surprised at illogical behaviour from the humans he knew. he didn’t always approve of it but... humans were humans and to try and make them otherwise was just as illogical as their occasional behaviour. He nodded his understanding about Jim’s motivations in joining Starfleet. Far different from his own. Not that he regretted his decision. His only regret was that he had distressed his mother and yet, she had understood why he had made that decision.”It does provide one’s death with meaning,” he observed. It had obviously been one of the reasons behind his own death. Saving the others, saving the Enterprise, the cost being his life. he deemed it a fair trade. He raised an eyebrow at Jim’s translation of his actions and was inwardly amused. He had always known how and when to word things obliquely - Vulcans were masters of diplomatic wording - but one thing he had learned from Jim was how to make a volatile situation sound completely benign. It had been useful when writing some of their reports for Starfleet. It was also a skill his counterpart had yet to learn if the movie was anything to go by. But his counterpart was younger than he and would learn. “It was a firm suggestion that Starfleet clearly agreed with.” It was easy enough to read what Jim was trying to say, a knack he’d learned over the years. The gratitude flowing through the physical contact assisted. He inclined his head slightly. You are most welcome. “Of course,” he said with his best bland expression, the one that usually had Dr McCoy squinting suspiciously at him, trying to work out whether he was genuine or not. Jim’s next question did make him stop and go very still. He should have anticipated it and he had, just not yet. He had not expected it until they watched had an opportunity to watch the movie featuring their counterparts. He hesitated for a long moment before replying and when he did, he was aware that this was something he would not have admitted to anyone other than Jim. “It was... distressing. For more than just the destruction of the planet and those who lived on it.” He hesitated again, this time uncertain of the best wording. “My counterpart was able to save most of the High Council, including Sarek, but... Amanda was... lost.” He shared his counterpart’s grief and distress over that even though she was not, technically, his mother. “Furthermore, Nero chose Vulcan because of me. It was his revenge on me for the loss of his family and his planet. He had stranded me on Delta Vega, a nearby planet within the system, so that I could watch his destruction of Vulcan.” “I suppose it’s better to have a death with meaning than no meaning at all. By then, beggars can’t be choosers.” Jim assumed that if they kept watching the movies, inevitably he would die. On screen, perhaps. The future members of the Enterprise knew him as a long dead hero, and he was strangely curious about it. He didn’t think it would bother him the way seeing David cut down, although that made sense since he was older and lived his life on a razor’s edge. Or seeing Spock die. “You may have come back, but you didn’t know that at the time. You were still very brave, either way.” He expected nothing less. His preconceived notions of Vulcans and Spock in particular changed drastically over his experience, in the best possible way. He couldn’t imagine a life without him. “Starfleet learned to stop arguing with us some time ago, I think. We’ll just steal ships and do whatever we want.” And it was their luck that it worked out. Every mad decision they made managed to work in the end, although with sacrifices like Spock and David along the way. There was always a price. “Between my gut and your logic, it’s a safe bet.” Also with Bones adding in his own two cents. It was going to be hard to adjust to losing him too. If he came through the Tesseract he’d be complaining and blaming Jim for it almost immediately. It seemed selfish to want that. Jim smiled at his ‘of course,’ because even if Bones gave him sharper looks, he saw right through it. Jim was a poker player, and he was starting to get good at reading Spock’s tells. He gave him a look anyway of mock warning. Any amusement he had melted away when he saw Spock’s struggle. He knew Vulcan was destroyed, but Amanda? The sympathy crossed his face almost immediately, and once again they were sharing sorrow, but the other way around now. “Your mother. Spock, I’m sorry.” Again he couldn’t help reaching out. That was Jim’s way. He had a grounding influence, he used touch and connection as comfort. This time it was Spock’s wrist, light pressure of his fingers there and nothing else. “It wasn’t your fault. What he chose to do is on his shoulders. He had the opportunity to go back in time and use that to save his people. Instead he used it for revenge. Someone like that is beyond reason.” His eyes were sincere. “I grieve with thee,” he echoed Spock’s earlier sentiment. “It was necessary,” Spock replied. “And at the time, I was the only person available who could have carried out the repairs.” That death was an inevitable outcome of that was unfortunate but he would never have let that stop from doing what needed to be done. Even having only viewed the event and not having experienced it, he could make those statements with some confidence. “I had the comfort of knowing that my katra was with Dr McCoy and could be returned to my ancestors.” He raised an eyebrow. “None of us could anticipate the effects of the Genesis project and the planet it created.” He did suspect that the main reason Starfleet had not complained or opposed Jim’s demands was that they had, yet again, saved the day. Success, he had noted, did bring with it a certain amount of indulgence among humans. Jim’s touch was strangely comforting and he could certainly sense that he was quite genuine in his sympathy. Not that he had doubted that. His sense of grief when he had first viewed the movie had been as much for Sarek and Spock as it had been for himself. From the brief scenes she had been in, there seemed to be little difference between the Amanda in his counterpart’s universe and his own mother. He and his father had long ago accepted that they would outlive Amanda but that did not make it any easier. He inclined his head slightly and again let the strange unspoken communication they had make his reply. Thank you. “That is, indeed, logical,” he said. In fact, it was exactly what he had said to himself several times since seeing the movie. Meditation had done little to remove the lingering and highly illogical feelings of doubt and guilt. “I did have some hope that I might remember these events when I am returned to our world and yet... I believe you come from a point in time later than myself? Am I correct in saying that I have not been absent for any appreciable period of time?” “I would have done the same thing,” Jim said with confidence. In the situation Spock found himself in, he wouldn’t hesitate to save the ship at the cost of his life. It was still difficult to understand that David’s sacrifice was no less important, at least to his son. He might never come to terms with that. There were too many what ifs and lost opportunities between them. He wondered how Carol moved on with her life. Probably by focusing on her work; that was what she did. “At least you came back. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost both of you.” Survived, of course, Jim was a survivor. But he would take a leave from Starfleet. Maybe for good. All Captains eventually went through a time where it was too much. It was no secret that Spock and Jim were extremely close. First Officers and their Captains often were, but it was more profound than that. He did hope for the sake of their counterparts they established a close relationship, for it made them a better team. On the other hand, their unspoken connection was rare. It sometimes felt like they had a language all of their own. It was that way after only a few years, he could only imagine what it felt like after over a decade. Spock was waiting for him, against all logic, and that said a great deal. “Logical but not comforting, right? I know emotions are difficult for you, and I doubt reassuring you this is normal would help.” Spock was often at war within himself that way. The handful of times they had a mind meld, he got a sense of how conflicted his friend was. Usually Spock was in control of those incidents, so he assumed his mind was a much more open book. “Yes, but I’m not sure how much later. We were in our third year, Janice Lester just took over my body.” That was a time when they shared minds again, to prove to Spock it was him within her body. “You were never gone, no. So we exist here and there. At least that means the Enterprise isn’t going on without both of us.” It was on the tip of Spock’s tongue to say that Jim’s counterpart had indeed done that however that was a subject perhaps best left for another day. They’d touched on a some of what happened to their counterparts but the second of the movies dealt with Khan and that was a subject best left alone right now. “An unexpected side-effect of the Genesis project. One I am most grateful for.” “Not particularly comforting, no,” he conceded. Emotions were... difficult. He had grown up with the Vulcan disciplines. His parents had both agreed that it was for the best but he had at various times struggled with them. He’d always blamed his Human half and yet he’d often wondered if other Vulcans felt the same way. Vulcans possessed all the same emotions as Humans, even if they did not admit to it, so he sometimes wondered if he was the only one who struggled and whether it was unfair to blame his Human side. It wasn’t a question he could easily ask due to the Vulcan privacy taboos. He did however see the Humans he worked with struggle with their emotions on a daily basis, sometimes successfully, sometimes less so. “Fascinating. There are a small group of people here addressing the issue of what happens at home when we are brought here,” he said. “This seems to be consistent when what they have previously discovered. There have been people returned and then brought back, often at a different point in their timeline. They have no memory of being here nor do they report anyone missing them at home.” “Yes, you’ve been brought back to have great adventures such as ….” Jim picked up the next DVD and looked at the back. He read for a second and then looked closer. “Why are there whales?” It stood out considering they were usually space traveling and fighting alien races. He would’ve doubted it was one of theirs if their faces weren’t on the cover. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on to another one right then. There was a lot to process. But now he was stuck on the whales. “Congratulations, Spock, you’re alive and going back in time to get whale sounds. Just another exciting day for the Enterprise.” He wondered if going from mission to mission was what kept him sane in the future. Now he was faced with the reality the Enterprise was gone and they were stuck. “Returned and brought back. And with people constantly coming and going. No rhyme or reason, otherwise you would’ve figured it out already.” Jim had confidence that if there was an answer, Spock would’ve found it. And if not him, he would know the person who could. They were truly out of their depth. They’d been under the influence of powers outside of their control before, but it never felt good. “Does the Tesseract have a personality? Is it cognizant of what it’s doing?” That was the real question for him. If they could suss out intentions, it might give answers. “If it does, it certainly likes Starfleet. Or should I say Star Trek?” Jim had yet to look up information on the internet about them, but he’d be doing that soon. It was strange to think of them as entertainment. “I’d be surprised that people watch things like this for entertainment, but we know better, don’t we?” They were put in gladiator positions or forced to fight before. It troubled him that his son’s death was enjoyed by anyone. “If I google us, how much material will I have to sort through?” Spock raised an eyebrow and looked rather interested. That had been an interesting movie to watch. They had broken... rather a lot of rules and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to disapprove. “Whales. Not just whale sounds. George and Gracie, to be precise. Unfortunately you do get demoted at the end of it. To Captain. And are placed back in charge of the Enterprise.” He was well aware that Jim would hardly find being demoted to Captain and given his command back again to be ‘unfortunate’ but he also knew that his particular phrasing would have the best chance of distracting Jim from his current mood. He wondered whether his future self had tried to talk Jim out of accepting the promotion to Admiral. That might seem the more illogical thing to do to most but Jim Kirk was not a man suited to sitting behind a desk, making the decisions that an Admiral makes. He was a man who would always be happiest ‘at the coal face’, so to speak. “The question as to whether the tesseract has a personality is unknown,” he said thoughtfully. “If it does, it is one that can be entirely generous and yet singularly cruel at the same time. It has brought friends, lovers, husbands and wives here and yet taken them away with the same abruptness. I did speculate that it was attempting to find something, some combination or type of people, yet there is little evidence of that as well. The only thing I can say with some certainty is that it has predominantly brought through people who would be described as ‘good’ or at the very least ‘helpful’.” Spock’s eyebrow went up again at the question about googling themselves. “A large amount,” he said dryly. “Much of it features our counterparts and I believe I should give you the standard warning about staying off the website called ‘tumblr’.” “Unfortunately?” Jim echoed and quirked an eyebrow at his friend. He suspected it was a joke, which never failed to lighten Jim’s mood. Manage to finagle Spock into any kind of reaction was fun, but he found the Vulcan’s sense of humor charming. And there was an element of knowing he was one of the few people who brought it out in Spock that made it special. “I’m sure I was devastated by that, but I have a strong sense of duty. I’d get past the shame and regret.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking accepting an Admiral position. Then again, you don’t typically say no to those.” It was an honor to be promoted, and no one turned it down. Besides, they could argue he’d get more work done that way. Do more good, in a different way. On paper that sounded right, but Jim knew it wasn’t for him. “If it was up to me, I’d probably be on that ship until the day I die. Although it may very well be that I did ….” And it could be in the movies. Jim was surprised he didn’t feel much about that. Everyone died eventually. His luck couldn’t stay with him forever. He smiled faintly to himself, hazel eyes looking Spock’s way. “Is it strange the thought of seeing my death doesn’t bother me? I think watching yours and David’s was by far more upsetting.” He only managed to get through Spock’s with the certainty he was alive and well. “Good and helpful. I see.” Jim thought that one over. “Maybe we’re here for a reason. If we’re all being brought to this particular time and place, with a group of people who ordinarily do good, it’s to accomplish something.” He thought it made sense. It wasn’t entirely logical to believe in a higher purpose or for a greater reason things happened, but in this case, he thought the dots added up to a conclusion. “Tumblr … Spock, what have you learned about telling me not to look at something?” It was almost a surefire way for Jim to immediately do the opposite. Curiosity was one of his weaknesses. Spock contrived to look entirely innocent. “Indeed though I was not aware that contrition usually looked like happy satisfaction.” He was silent at Jim’s comment about being on the ship until he died. He had watched the all of the movies and, apart from being somewhat discomforted by the appearance of his half-brother Sybok, the only moment that had truly disconcerted him had been Jim’s death. He had always intellectually known that he would outlive Jim but he had, it seemed, been practising some purely human denial over the that. “I believe that when we join Starfleet and more specifically when we choose to serve on a deep space exploration vessel that we accept that we are placing our lives in danger,” he observed after a moment of thought. “We accept that we may well die. However we hope that our crewmates, our friends and others survive thus their deaths affect us more.” “That is a theory that has been discussed,” he said. “Though what that purpose may be is unknown. There are refugees who have been here for a little over a year without finding out why they have been brought here.” He went through the evidence he had discovered through his work at SHIELD and what Mulder had told him. “SHIELD have brought a person by the name of Loki here. It seems he has some expertise with the tesseract.” He paused and arched an eyebrow. “He is also a Norse god.” Spock gave his Captain a very long look that wasn’t without some wry amusement. He was aware he had probably just encouraged Jim to go and look not only at Tumblr but for the very things he was warning against. “I believe the correct phrase in this situation would be ‘on your own head be it’.” Jim saw the innocent look and couldn’t stop from letting out a laugh. It was at least in part due to the fact he knew his friend was intentionally trying to make him smile. “I’ve always strived to be unpredictable, Mr. Spock. And in truth you know as well as I do the Enterprise is all I ever wanted.” And now he was nowhere near her. He would start to miss space and the rest of the crew and their ship. That thought started to sober him up again. “I don’t suppose Christopher’s idea to start a space program here immediately and sail off in a ship within a few years is reasonable to hope for.” It was wishful thinking and both Captains knew that, but it was nice to think about either way. “Maybe the purpose is not unknown so much as we haven’t realized it yet. You know how one small thing can make a difference when looked at a century later.” They went around time and through worlds enough to understand the ripple effect. Jim frowned as he thought it over. “If my father’s death thirty years too soon can change that universe drastically, how much is this world being changed just by one of us, let alone hundreds?” The change could be happening all around them. He winked at his friend. “I get it, Spock. I’m asking for whatever I find on this Tumblr.” Jim was an idea man. Visionary. He may not be right about it, but he did like to dream. A higher purpose at least gave them something to focus on. Starfleet trained them to think outside the box. His son wasn’t Starfleet. He planned on a life of science and discovery. It seemed quick at least, only brief pain and little fear. “There’s a saying, parents shouldn’t outlive their children. For evolutionary reasons, but also … because we’d give our lives for theirs a hundred times over.” Jim felt that way about David although he personally never met the boy. It didn’t matter how much time went by. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dwell. Maybe we should take a break. Leave the others for a different day.” And get him a few dozen drinks. “The space program in the United States seems to be in an odd state of flux,” Spock said. He found himself missing the Enterprise and their exploration mission himself. There was a great deal to be curious about in this world and yet he couldn’t deny that not all of his decision to join Starfleet was based on rebellion. He wanted to know what was out there and to see it for himself. “That is also a thought that has occurred to some people. We are having an effect on this world, especially those of us from more advanced times. There is no way of determining what that effect will be.” He remembered their experiences with the Guardian and with the mirror universe. Small changes could have extremely profound effects on the timeline. Had they already had similar effects? What would this world’s future look like due to their influence, even if that influence was nothing more than their mere presence. Spock reached for the remote and actually stopped the video. He could understand why Jim would need to regroup after seeing what he had. “Of course. Perhaps we should seek a meal? I believe Dr McCoy would not consider popcorn to be one of the food groups.” “I doubt he’d consider a vat of scotch to be a food group either, but that wouldn’t be the last thing we disagree on.” Jim would wait for private time to probably drink himself in and out of a depression. For now he’d let Spock try to distract him with theories and information overload. Maybe it would keep the rest at bay. “Come on, Spock.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You’re buying.” |