[Rifts in the Boredom of Forced Sick Leave] -- [Open]

[kirktastic]

Things had gone... interestingly the night of the party. The small memory put a smile to Kirk's face, despite his complete boredom and annoyance at still being trapped in his room. He could leave, he could walk around, but there was nothing he could do. Damn CMO's orders

Comments

[original_fine]

"If that's all you're hearing, you're not listening to me," Jim said quietly, his hand clenching at his side. "Maybe you can't. I understand you've been through things I haven't. Maybe that distance is valuable. And maybe I've developed it through the things that have happened to me. Decisions I've had to make. Lives that have been in my hands. Do you think I've never had a difficult decision to make? That I've never seen atrocities committed before my eyes?

"This has nothing to do with the ship, aside from the possibility that she might be turned to our way of thinking and thereby solve our problems without bloodshed. This has everything to do with you. And your willingness to commit murder in cold blood, to abandon the legal and medical process, to let your anger guide you. To ignore the right of what's left of Vulcan to be part of that process, if at all possible. To determine the situation as it stands now."

Jim looked open and stricken, thinking about Kodos, thinking about what he'd wanted to do and counseling Kevin away from doing it. Kodos hadn't deserved the life he'd built for himself. But he hadn't deserved anyone's summary judgment.

[kirktastic]

"How would her 'turning our way' solve our problems? What are you asking me to do, Jim? To bring Nero back to Starfleet for a trial? LEGAL and MEDICAL process? This is bigger then that now. I think you've completely lost your perspective."

Kirk stood up, walking away from Jim and to the large window. He stared out unhappily, scowling, body light and dark in the stark light. "I'm willing to kill someone, but this isn't murder. What he did was murder. He took billions of innocent lives. Killing him would be a justice... preventing future pain. He escaped a prison planet run by Klingons, Jim. Throwing him in a prison won't help. Putting him on trial? Do you realize the kind of havoc that would break loose? Starfleet lost so much and Vulcan even more. They'll tear him to pieces."

He let out a slow breath, "I don't think you have the guts to do what is humane. You're offering mercy, and it feels like you just want to pull the wool over your eyes and let everything he did not mean anything. A trial... legal. Medical." He shook his head slowly, leaning his forearm on the glass and his forehead on his forearm.

[original_fine]

Jim shook his head too, not caring if Kirk could see it.

"I've lost perspective, Jim? I'm not the one who thinks he's bigger than Starfleet, who thinks it's his duty and right to decide. I'm not asking for anything but for Spock not to be blown up. That, and the opportunity to see what we're up against. We don't know what the Narada is capable of. What we do know is that already, the two beings closest to Nero have more or less betrayed him. Do they deserve to die so that you can dispose of him before he's conscious again? Damn it, Jim, the fact that you can accuse me of cowardice and deliberate blindness to the situation and the hurt he's caused..."

He consciously unclenched his fist. It was hurting his hand.

"You can believe whatever you want." It hurt more than he would have guessed, knowing exactly how they differed. "You have no reason to grant my position any more credence that a stranger on the street. But I couldn't do what you're contemplating. Though I've contemplated it myself. And decided that I'm only one man. I'm not the one who gets to decide who lives or dies. Even if it might be more convenient. If that changed, I'd be a different person. I'd be Kodos. I'd be Nero."

He moved towards the door, his expression stony, anticipating being thrown out. The argument could go nowhere. He was rapidly losing focus, becoming emotional himself. He was too close--not to the problem, not like Kirk was, but to Kirk himself.

He was still convinced he was right.

[kirktastic]

Kirk's entire body tensed all at once. A thousand memories, sharp as razor blades and twice as painful. Kodos. It clenched his throat, made him feel like a child again. Thoughts of their argument died in his mind.

"Tarsus IV." He whispered, so quiet, yet it carried in the clear silence between them, even across the gulf dividing them.

[original_fine]

Jim's head whipped around, cold dread replacing the rising anger inside him. He'd spoken without thinking, from his gut. He hadn't assumed... hadn't expected...

"Jim, no," he said quietly, as if Kirk would now tell him he was wrong, that he hadn't been there too, that they didn't share that.

[kirktastic]

The eyes that stared at Jim were younger, a horror in his expression. Jim had been there. He could never have known the truth, enough truth to whisper those words in that context, that name, if he didn't know.

The universes were closer together then Kirk ever, ever wanted them to be. He looked down, unable to take that look that Jim was giving him. He rarely even ever had nightmares about then, none the less try to actively think about it.

It hadn't stopped him from having a small hoard of food in the dorms during his time at the academy.

[original_fine]

Without noting the steps in between, Jim was beside Kirk, his arm around him. He was still angry--this was not resolved, and he figured there'd be more confrontation before it was--but he could but it on hold. Forget it in the context of this, of the way Kirk wasn't looking at him, the tension in those shoulders.

"Jim, I'm sorry," he said nonsensically. He hadn't sent Kirk there. He couldn't have stopped it. But somehow it seemed unfair that they'd both had to share that. Of all things.

[kirktastic]

"Don't." Kirk choked on the word, body tensing even as he leaned into Kirk, "Don't.. pity. Don't be sorry." He brought his legs up, mind not even sure what to think about this. "I don't want to think about that."

But he had lived through this well, another mass suicide, another man he had been powerless to stop.

He stared downwards before whispering, "I don't want to lose a friend, but just like you... I can't back down from what I believe in."

[original_fine]

Jim didn't let go, but he stiffened slightly. "It's not pity," he snapped. "Don't you think I know what you're feeling? That I wish this world had spared you that?" He swallowed. It wasn't a subject he liked discussing either. Would it help, that Kirk knew? Would it help to tell him of meeting Kodos again?

"I'm not asking you to back down from what you believe in. I'm asking you to think it over. To make sure you have perspective. No one would blame you for having to find it again. The Jim Kirk I know believes in due process and altering one's options to fit the situation. The situation's changed. That's all I came here to say. I... met him again. Kodos. Years later. I'm not ignorant of your situation."

His arm dropped, and he took a step back.

"I've overstayed my welcome," he said. "You know where to find me." Doing nothing.

[kirktastic]

To that, Kirk said nothing at all. He didn't look up, eyes narrowed as he stared at the bed. He didn't reach out, didn't speak another word. Allowing Jim to leave. His eyes closed slowly, tired and unknowing. He could feel a slow roll in his stomach, churning and hot, thinking about the pain he could remember from that long ago mixed with the deep green and orange and black of what happened on the Narada.

Due process. Starfleet would have Nero executed or thrown into jail. The latter.. what good would it do? He could escape again. There was so much that could happen.

Maybe I should talk with Pike about this.

[original_fine]

Jim leaned against the bulkhead outside Kirk's door, taking deep breaths and gathering himself. He hadn't thought it would be so difficult. He'd faced so much worse, as a matter of course.

This was different. This was him, only now he doubted how true that was. What that connection meant. Jim had seen himself mirrored so many times. And as much as he believed in himself, none of those views had been flattering.

Had he lost that?