Being Alive: Chapter One
Title: Being Alive
Disclaimer: I think it's BEYOND obvious that I don't own Star Trek... what? You really thought I did?
Pairing: Spock/Kirk
Rating: T
Summary:There is a hidden history behind Jim's eyes that he's been running from. He finds a new friend in a lonely Vulcan and learns that running doesn't always help.
It's a little AU, and I'm planning on making something happen between Spock and Kirk. Characters are probably a little Out of Character, too. Sorry about that. And be WARNED: there is angst, with a little bit of... fluff?
Err... yeah, I'll get back to you on that. Also... I'm trying to do the Lj cut thingy, but I'm not sure its working...
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There was nothing but the sound of his feet echoing the beat of his heart, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He didn’t know how long he’d been running - it couldn’t have been that long, really - but with possibly fractured ribs and what felt to be a bruised sternum, it might not have been as long as he thought. His knuckles stung from the chilly pins-and-needles air, surely still oozing blood from the drunken bar brawl he’d just left.
It had been his first fight in a long while, and it felt good to have the adrenaline back in his system, regardless of the illegally procured alcohol that came with it.
He stopped and sat down, sweat dripping down his back. His shirt clung to his skin, making him feel uncomfortably cool despite the rise in his heart rate. At least his nose had stopped bleeding. No doubt his mother would be pleased when she heard, granted Jim couldn’t really see his mother being pleased about anything he did, legal or not.
Sighing, he ran his hand over his face, wincing when he hit his nose and reopened the split in his lip. His mother… Jim hadn’t seen her in three years, ever since she’d sent him to this stuffy, follow-the-rules-or-else school. She’d considered it when he was eleven, when he’d driven his father’s car over the quarry; when she hadn’t listened to him tell her it was that idiot-bastard Frank’s fault for wanting to sell it.
She’d finally decided when he was fifteen after he’d been caught with the judge’s daughter in a bar way after curfew, after he’d almost killed the two guys hitting on her. He’d tried to explain it to them that he’d just been exploring the advantages of youth as children and teenagers were wont to do… that, unfortunately, didn’t help his case any.
And so… Starfleet Academy. Despite the fact that he had wanted to get out of Iowa, he hadn’t wanted to be exiled from the only home he’d ever known. Now, he supposed, he had a different home, one he didn’t consider home at all. At least he had the track, which was supposed to be closed at night. But Jim, being Jim, didn’t find any difficulty in picking the lock; it was even easier to scale the fence and jump over.
As he leaned back, turning to look up at the night sky filled by eons and cosmos and future, he heard footsteps and voices. Coming through the gate was Captain Pike - an odd occurrence in itself, seeing as how he was usually busy off planet - followed by another person, this one unknown to Jim. He was dangerously thin, considering he looked humanoid, but in these times, that didn’t mean much of anything. And he looked barely older than Jim.
As they approached, Jim thought he recognized the man as Vulcan, and despite the stranger’s age, he couldn’t possibly be a student because students came in at the beginning of the academic year and got toured in groups. Not individually, mid-year, and definitely not in the middle of the night.
Pike spotted him, and even through the distance Jim could see the look in the old man’s eye, the look that said I’m going to tell your mother what you’ve been doing but I’m going to wait until a more sensible hour to contact her, by then, however, I’ll probably have forgotten but not because I’m old and can’t remember but because you’re my favorite cadet.
Well… maybe in not so many words.
“Jim,” Pike greeted as he and the Vulcan came over to where he was. When he stood, he flinched, and he was sure that it didn’t go unnoticed. Stupid ribs. “Jim, I’d like you to meet one of the new teachers, Mr. Spock. He comes from Vulcan with high regards from the Science Academy.”
Jim couldn’t help but retort, because really, that’s just the kind of guy he was. “And I come from Iowa with high regards from you. I hope Spork turns out better.”
“Spock.”
“Right, whatever…” Jim was going to say more, but dark eyes were on him, dark human eyes that met his own. Pike ceased to exist, as did the track and the stars and everything else. There were eyes, and perhaps breath, but nothing else.
Momentarily, Jim experienced freedom and existence and life, for once not warring for dominance. It was sudden and jarring, the feelings and emotions passing between them through the air. There was no contact, there was no need.
Jim blinked, and as suddenly as it was there it was gone. Pike was speaking, and it was hard trying to focus on his words. He actually had to make an effort to understand the words coming from the old man’s mouth.
“Your mother would have liked to see you this Christmas,” Pike was saying, shrugging his shoulders. It was a gesture Jim was familiar with, something everyone seemed to do when they thought he was hopeless.
The last part caught his attention… Right. Christmas. Which explained why he had been at a bar in the first place, legal or not. It was the holiday. Barely anyone was at school, instructors included. Jim wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he was the only one there… granted, that was clearly not the case anymore.
“It’s kind of hard to enjoy Christmas when she won’t even look me in the eye,” he said spitefully, crossing his arms in front of himself - a defensive gesture he’d learned long ago. Sighing, he dropped his defiant stance, letting his shoulders fall. “Can’t I just run the track some more?”
Pike had almost nodded, but caught himself, tilting his head back at the main building. “Go get checked out first. Dr. McCoy worries for your safety.” Jim gave him a pointed look that spoke great volumes of sarcasm, but Pike continued. “At least make sure nothing’s broken.”
“Yeah, right,” Jim muttered darkly, scoffing. “He’s probably waiting to ambush me with that damn hypo of his.” He frowned for a moment before wrinkling his brow in some manner of confusion. “Why’s he even still here?”
No one answered him.
As he slowly made his way to the sickbay, exaggerating his steps, Pike and Spock followed. Jim made a show of not listening despite the fact that he very much was.
“That was the track,” Pike was saying, gesturing backwards with his hand as they moved forward. “It’s only open during the day, but it’s easy enough to get into that it might as well be open all the time. That one’s in there almost every night.”
At this, Jim turned around, walking backwards to watch the conversation rather than just listen.
“Then why don’t you heighten security around this area?” Spock questioned, raising his left eyebrow. “Or at least employ measures that would enforce the rules.”
“Because I like the challenge,” Jim supplied helpfully… and did he really just wink at a Vulcan?
Pointedly, Pike and Spock ignored him, the former supplying the answer. “It’s better than the alternative.” It was a grim answer, but Spock didn’t seem to catch that as his not-curiosity got the better of him.
“Oh?”
Before anyone could speak further, however, Jim felt the air go cold and gave a physical shudder and then winced, when he realized what was coming…
“Goddammit! What the hell did you do this time?”
Ah, the lovely, screeching caw of Bones…
“Good God, man! What the hell happened to you? Run into a truck again? Or was it another cliff?”
At that, Spock lifted both of his eyebrows, vaguely wondering if it was a figure of speech or something that had actually happened. There were a few exclamations of pain as the doctor poked and prodded, seeming to get no limits of joy from the sounds coming from Jim.
“Do these altercations happen often?” Spock asked Pike, who wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his smile; it wilted a little as he spoke.
“Mostly just on the holidays anymore.” There was a pause before he continued, the smile turning to a frown. His eyes didn’t move from Jim and Bones, though. “It used to be a lot more frequent though. His first year here, something happened every other day. It was almost like he had something to prove, or maybe he just didn’t care.”
“Dammit! Would you stop that!”
Jim was trying to get away from Bones now, his eyes blurring even as he stood; Bones pushed him back onto the bed, careful of the injuries. Pike continued.
“He’s good at running away from things. I showed him the track one night after a particularly bad day. He goes there every night. Hasn’t missed a night since.” At that, Pike smiled, and Spock couldn’t imagine why. “Now there are only altercations on holidays when most of the others are gone. And usually it’s not even on campus.”
Spock’s lips curved downward and he tilted his head. “Does he not go home?”
Pike sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Not for three years now. But he’s in the top of his classes, and he does exceptionally well in Survival Strategies and Tactical Analysis. In Hand-to-Hand he’s----”
“You should see the other guys!” Jim raised his hand, finger pointed at them, his head lolling back. It seemed the hypo was starting to take effect.
Bones sighed and snapped off his gloves. Heading for the door, he rolled his eyes as Jim waved excitedly. “I’m heading out now, so if you guys could handle him for the rest of break…?” At Pike’s nod, he continued. “I’ve taken care of the worst of it, so he should be fine by tomorrow. And if he causes any trouble,” at this, he grinned, something that didn’t look innocent at all, “the hypos are in the top drawer by the door.”
Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I think it's BEYOND obvious that I don't own Star Trek... what? You really thought I did?
Pairing: Spock/Kirk
Rating: T
Summary:There is a hidden history behind Jim's eyes that he's been running from. He finds a new friend in a lonely Vulcan and learns that running doesn't always help.
It's a little AU, and I'm planning on making something happen between Spock and Kirk. Characters are probably a little Out of Character, too. Sorry about that. And be WARNED: there is angst, with a little bit of... fluff?
Err... yeah, I'll get back to you on that. Also... I'm trying to do the Lj cut thingy, but I'm not sure its working...
----------------------
There was nothing but the sound of his feet echoing the beat of his heart, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He didn’t know how long he’d been running - it couldn’t have been that long, really - but with possibly fractured ribs and what felt to be a bruised sternum, it might not have been as long as he thought. His knuckles stung from the chilly pins-and-needles air, surely still oozing blood from the drunken bar brawl he’d just left.
It had been his first fight in a long while, and it felt good to have the adrenaline back in his system, regardless of the illegally procured alcohol that came with it.
He stopped and sat down, sweat dripping down his back. His shirt clung to his skin, making him feel uncomfortably cool despite the rise in his heart rate. At least his nose had stopped bleeding. No doubt his mother would be pleased when she heard, granted Jim couldn’t really see his mother being pleased about anything he did, legal or not.
Sighing, he ran his hand over his face, wincing when he hit his nose and reopened the split in his lip. His mother… Jim hadn’t seen her in three years, ever since she’d sent him to this stuffy, follow-the-rules-or-else school. She’d considered it when he was eleven, when he’d driven his father’s car over the quarry; when she hadn’t listened to him tell her it was that idiot-bastard Frank’s fault for wanting to sell it.
She’d finally decided when he was fifteen after he’d been caught with the judge’s daughter in a bar way after curfew, after he’d almost killed the two guys hitting on her. He’d tried to explain it to them that he’d just been exploring the advantages of youth as children and teenagers were wont to do… that, unfortunately, didn’t help his case any.
And so… Starfleet Academy. Despite the fact that he had wanted to get out of Iowa, he hadn’t wanted to be exiled from the only home he’d ever known. Now, he supposed, he had a different home, one he didn’t consider home at all. At least he had the track, which was supposed to be closed at night. But Jim, being Jim, didn’t find any difficulty in picking the lock; it was even easier to scale the fence and jump over.
As he leaned back, turning to look up at the night sky filled by eons and cosmos and future, he heard footsteps and voices. Coming through the gate was Captain Pike - an odd occurrence in itself, seeing as how he was usually busy off planet - followed by another person, this one unknown to Jim. He was dangerously thin, considering he looked humanoid, but in these times, that didn’t mean much of anything. And he looked barely older than Jim.
As they approached, Jim thought he recognized the man as Vulcan, and despite the stranger’s age, he couldn’t possibly be a student because students came in at the beginning of the academic year and got toured in groups. Not individually, mid-year, and definitely not in the middle of the night.
Pike spotted him, and even through the distance Jim could see the look in the old man’s eye, the look that said I’m going to tell your mother what you’ve been doing but I’m going to wait until a more sensible hour to contact her, by then, however, I’ll probably have forgotten but not because I’m old and can’t remember but because you’re my favorite cadet.
Well… maybe in not so many words.
“Jim,” Pike greeted as he and the Vulcan came over to where he was. When he stood, he flinched, and he was sure that it didn’t go unnoticed. Stupid ribs. “Jim, I’d like you to meet one of the new teachers, Mr. Spock. He comes from Vulcan with high regards from the Science Academy.”
Jim couldn’t help but retort, because really, that’s just the kind of guy he was. “And I come from Iowa with high regards from you. I hope Spork turns out better.”
“Spock.”
“Right, whatever…” Jim was going to say more, but dark eyes were on him, dark human eyes that met his own. Pike ceased to exist, as did the track and the stars and everything else. There were eyes, and perhaps breath, but nothing else.
Momentarily, Jim experienced freedom and existence and life, for once not warring for dominance. It was sudden and jarring, the feelings and emotions passing between them through the air. There was no contact, there was no need.
Jim blinked, and as suddenly as it was there it was gone. Pike was speaking, and it was hard trying to focus on his words. He actually had to make an effort to understand the words coming from the old man’s mouth.
“Your mother would have liked to see you this Christmas,” Pike was saying, shrugging his shoulders. It was a gesture Jim was familiar with, something everyone seemed to do when they thought he was hopeless.
The last part caught his attention… Right. Christmas. Which explained why he had been at a bar in the first place, legal or not. It was the holiday. Barely anyone was at school, instructors included. Jim wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he was the only one there… granted, that was clearly not the case anymore.
“It’s kind of hard to enjoy Christmas when she won’t even look me in the eye,” he said spitefully, crossing his arms in front of himself - a defensive gesture he’d learned long ago. Sighing, he dropped his defiant stance, letting his shoulders fall. “Can’t I just run the track some more?”
Pike had almost nodded, but caught himself, tilting his head back at the main building. “Go get checked out first. Dr. McCoy worries for your safety.” Jim gave him a pointed look that spoke great volumes of sarcasm, but Pike continued. “At least make sure nothing’s broken.”
“Yeah, right,” Jim muttered darkly, scoffing. “He’s probably waiting to ambush me with that damn hypo of his.” He frowned for a moment before wrinkling his brow in some manner of confusion. “Why’s he even still here?”
No one answered him.
As he slowly made his way to the sickbay, exaggerating his steps, Pike and Spock followed. Jim made a show of not listening despite the fact that he very much was.
“That was the track,” Pike was saying, gesturing backwards with his hand as they moved forward. “It’s only open during the day, but it’s easy enough to get into that it might as well be open all the time. That one’s in there almost every night.”
At this, Jim turned around, walking backwards to watch the conversation rather than just listen.
“Then why don’t you heighten security around this area?” Spock questioned, raising his left eyebrow. “Or at least employ measures that would enforce the rules.”
“Because I like the challenge,” Jim supplied helpfully… and did he really just wink at a Vulcan?
Pointedly, Pike and Spock ignored him, the former supplying the answer. “It’s better than the alternative.” It was a grim answer, but Spock didn’t seem to catch that as his not-curiosity got the better of him.
“Oh?”
Before anyone could speak further, however, Jim felt the air go cold and gave a physical shudder and then winced, when he realized what was coming…
“Goddammit! What the hell did you do this time?”
Ah, the lovely, screeching caw of Bones…
“Good God, man! What the hell happened to you? Run into a truck again? Or was it another cliff?”
At that, Spock lifted both of his eyebrows, vaguely wondering if it was a figure of speech or something that had actually happened. There were a few exclamations of pain as the doctor poked and prodded, seeming to get no limits of joy from the sounds coming from Jim.
“Do these altercations happen often?” Spock asked Pike, who wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his smile; it wilted a little as he spoke.
“Mostly just on the holidays anymore.” There was a pause before he continued, the smile turning to a frown. His eyes didn’t move from Jim and Bones, though. “It used to be a lot more frequent though. His first year here, something happened every other day. It was almost like he had something to prove, or maybe he just didn’t care.”
“Dammit! Would you stop that!”
Jim was trying to get away from Bones now, his eyes blurring even as he stood; Bones pushed him back onto the bed, careful of the injuries. Pike continued.
“He’s good at running away from things. I showed him the track one night after a particularly bad day. He goes there every night. Hasn’t missed a night since.” At that, Pike smiled, and Spock couldn’t imagine why. “Now there are only altercations on holidays when most of the others are gone. And usually it’s not even on campus.”
Spock’s lips curved downward and he tilted his head. “Does he not go home?”
Pike sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Not for three years now. But he’s in the top of his classes, and he does exceptionally well in Survival Strategies and Tactical Analysis. In Hand-to-Hand he’s----”
“You should see the other guys!” Jim raised his hand, finger pointed at them, his head lolling back. It seemed the hypo was starting to take effect.
Bones sighed and snapped off his gloves. Heading for the door, he rolled his eyes as Jim waved excitedly. “I’m heading out now, so if you guys could handle him for the rest of break…?” At Pike’s nod, he continued. “I’ve taken care of the worst of it, so he should be fine by tomorrow. And if he causes any trouble,” at this, he grinned, something that didn’t look innocent at all, “the hypos are in the top drawer by the door.”
Chapter Two