Fic: O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Title: O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Author: laughter_now
Rating: R, to err on the side of caution. Mentions of violence, though no depiction of it.
Wordcount: 7636 words
Warnings: Talk about and depiction of mental disorders
Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable in this, I just play in other people's sandbox.
Summary: Every family has its secrets. Leonard thought he knew most of Jim's, but he was wrong.
For the prompt "Multiple personalities: always there" on my h/c_bingo card.
A/N: I'm in no way an expert on the things I write about in this story. In fact, my only knowledge about the topic comes from some internet research and from having read Matt Ruff's "Set This House in Order" a while ago - and the latter is a novel, not a scientific text.
This is a fictional story, and in no way meant to be an accurate depiction of any kind of mental disease. I mean no offense to people suffering from dissociative identity disorder, and all mistakes are my own and solely to blame on a lack of knowledge on the topic.
Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Jim was growing more and more subdued the farther they progressed into the facility. He had already been unusually quiet during the shuttle ride, and by now he was nervously balling his hands into fists at his side as they walked.
Leonard didn't comment on it though, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it had been the wrong choice to come here, the wrong choice to pressure Jim about it. He had simply been curious, trying to figure out why there was this one blank spot in Jim's family history that he tried to keep evading at all costs. He had thought that maybe, if he didn't let up and kept asking, Jim was finally going to explain.
He hadn't expected Jim to drag him here, without much of an explanation other than that they were going to visit Sam.
Jim's elusive brother. The one family member he hardly ever talked about, even though the few times he did tell Leonard about their childhood, the fondness was obvious in his voice. It were always childhood memories Jim related though, and no mention of Sam after Tarsus. If Leonard hadn't known that Jim's brother had survived the famine and Kodos' reign, he would have assumed Sam had been amongst those four thousand unlucky souls that hadn't left Tarsus alive.
But Sam had survived, and somehow, he had ended up here on Deneva, a planet that looked less and less like a scientific research base, and more and more like something else entirely to Leonard. Now that they were here, maybe Leonard was about to learn why Jim never mentioned his brother, and why the only contact between them were the monthly letters Jim wrote. Letters which, to the best of Leonard's knowledge, were hardly ever answered, if at all.
The facility had come as the first surprise. As far as Leonard knew, Sam was working as a microbiologist on Deneva, but this didn't look like a research station, and neither did it look like a dorm or housing facility for scientists. If there was one thing Leonard knew, it was the sight, smell and feel of a medical facility. And this building looked, smelled and felt like a hospital.
They didn't meet anybody on the corridors, though. No doctors, nurses or patients. The doors to their left and right were all closed, and after Jim had given his and Leonard's names at the check-in desk and they had received their visitor's badges, they had been free to move around the facility. It was…a bit disconcerting, Leonard thought. He was sure that this was in a hospital, yet in so many ways it didn't feel like one, either.
After turning another corner, Jim stopped in front of yet another closed door. It looked just like all the other doors they had passed, and the only difference was the room number to the left of the doorjamb, and the name-tag beneath it.
Kirk, George S.
For the first time since they had entered the facility, Jim turned around and looked at Leonard. It was obvious that the simple move had cost him a lot of effort, but he met Leonard's gaze head on.
"I could explain, but I think you'll understand better if you see him. Sam is a lot better at explaining this than I am. I just don't know what…how he is feeling today, though…"
Leonard shook his head. "Listen Jim, whatever is going on, we don't have to do this."
"No, it's okay. I want you to meet him. I want him to meet you. It's just…you'll understand in a moment. I just can't guarantee you that this is going to work out."
The words did nothing to help soothe the anxiety that had settled in his gut, but Leonard tried to console himself in the fact that whatever illness the older Kirk brother was suffering from, the doctors wouldn't have let them in to see him if his condition was in any way unstable or volatile. The fact that they could have just come in here, with nothing more than a day's prior announcement, told him that it couldn't possibly be as bad as Jim made it out to be just now.
Jim drew a breath, his shoulders hitching slightly with a sudden tension, then he pressed the buzzer beside the door and waited for it to slide open.
Leonard was surprised to see that it was no hospital room in the classical sense behind that door. Rather, they had entered what looked like a small apartment, complete with a kitchen area, a living area, a door branching off into what he suspected was the bathroom, and a partition that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment.
But still, something was off about the image. There was the usual clutter of inhabitation strewn around - books in the shelves against the walls, a few PADDs on the sofa table, a sweatshirt hanging over the back of an armchair. But some things were different form a normal household. There were no pictures hanging on the walls, no image-frames of any kind, no mirrors or glass surfaces anywhere. There were plastic cups instead of glasses in the kitchen cupboard, and even the windows looked every bit as if they were made of an unbreakable acrylic material rather than conventional glass. Also, even from across the room, Leonard could clearly see the locking mechanism on the windows. They could probably be tilted open, but not slid open all the way.
The door hissed shut behind them, and Leonard's eyes fell onto the man who was sitting at the small table beneath the window, looking up curiously at their entrance.
The resemblance to Jim was striking at first sight. Though Sam was obviously the older of the two, their faces looked remarkably similar - the same bone structure, the same high brows and full lips. But where Jim's eyes were that startling blue that still made Leonard's breath catch occasionally, Sam's eyes were brown, and his hair was a shade darker as Jim's was, too. He was lean, and from what Leonard could judge by his sitting position, also tall. At least as tall as Jim, if not even a slight bit taller.
He was watching them curiously as they approached, his head cocked slightly to the side and his brows furrowed slightly. Beside him, Jim's steps faltered a little, just a slight hitch in his stride that anybody else probably wouldn't eve have noticed, but which to him stood out glaringly. Leonard wondered what all this meant.
"Hello," Jim said carefully, stopping a few steps away from his brother. Leonard's feeling that something was definitely off here only increased. Sam looked at Jim for a moment longer, with a small smile playing around the corners of his lips. But it wasn't the smile of a brother who was happy to experience a family reunion.
He didn't understand it. Jim had said his brother knew they were coming for a visit, but this looked different. After a few moments, Sam shifted in his chair and his smile widened. There was still something off, though, because the smile didn't look welcoming, let alone happy to see them.
"Jim. Long time, no see."
Sam's voice was deep, and there was a gleam in his eyes that was almost a challenge. Jim sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly in what could almost be called defeat, but still he stepped a little to the side before Leonard could even think of raising his hand and touching him.
"Could I talk to Sam?"
Leonard frowned, turning towards Jim in confusion, but neither of the other men paid him any attention.
Sam didn't seem disturbed by the strange request. Instead, his smile widened and he rolled his eyes, as if he had expected the question.
"Of course. Sam. Everybody only wants to talk to Sam. Nobody ever asks about me. Hello-o! I'm stuck in here just like Sam is. You come here and disturb when it's my turn to drive, the least you could do is throw in a 'how are you, Grant?', don't you think?"
Jim's hands were balling into fists again, but Leonard was still far too confused to even think of stepping in between. He didn't think it was his place to interfere, either, not until he knew what the hell was even going on here. He didn't know who Grant was, but he was sure that this man was Jim's brother. The physical similarities were simply too striking for him not to be. It didn't make sense. Leonard's confusion was warring with a strange mixture of fascination and curiosity, and even though he longed to reach out and at least touch Jim to let him know that whatever was going on, he was there, he felt like he couldn't move.
"How are you, Grant?" Jim asked dutifully, with a wary undertone.
Sam…Grant…whoever he was leaned back in his chair, one arm slung lazily across its back.
"Oh, I'm just awesome, Jim. I'm stuck here with doctors poking and prodding into my most private thoughts and memories on a daily basis, and nothing so much as a regular visit or even a 'hello' from anybody. It's boring as hell, Jim."
"As far as I'm aware, you have full access to the station's library and database."
The only answer this received was an enormous eye-roll. "Oh yes, complete access to all those wonderful books and files, and all that other theoretical crap. Plenty of food for thought, and in case that's not enough I also got free access to the gym. It's like a spa here. A fucking holiday resort with endless fun, just without the beaches. It's so awesome here, I can't understand why anybody would ever want to leave."
Jim sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose the way he normally only did when he was completely exhausted.
"Can I talk to Sam, please?"
The brothers stared into each other's eyes for a few long seconds, and whatever silent conversation passed between them was something Leonard had no insight into. But there was some sort of conversation going on for sure, because after a few seconds Grant - and Leonard still wasn't sure what to think about that - rolled his eyes again.
"Fine, fine. Talk to Sam if you have to."
Jim seemed relieved, and his shoulders sagged a little. "Thank you."
It was as if his brother wasn't even listening. Leonard was looking at Sam the whole time, with just a cursory glance at Jim from the corner of his eyes, but still he wasn't too sure of what exactly it was he was seeing. No big shift, no sudden change or anything that was really visible, but still from one moment to the next he had the feeling that something vital about Sam had changed.
Jim's brother took the arm from the back of his chair where he had draped it earlier, and sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders as he looked first at Jim, then at Leonard, and back to Jim again. Leonard could have sworn that he seemed a little confused, but as soon as he looked at Jim, his eyes widened and a huge smile spread on his face.
"Jimmy!"
He got up from the chair he had been sitting on, crossed the distance towards Jim and engulfed his brother in a tight embrace. Jim hugged him back, relief evident in each of his movements, and seeing the shift in his lover's behavior, Leonard allowed himself to relax a little as well. He was still confused, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, but he didn't want to deepen his suspicions in any way before he had the chance to talk to Jim about them. If Leonard was right with what he thought was going on with Sam, Jim was going to have to start explaining at some point.
For now, he stood and watched as the two brothers hugged, and for some reason he was relieved to see that there was real emotion behind the embrace. He could read Jim, and he knew that he wouldn't drop his defenses this way with just about anyone. Sam seemed equally relieved and excited to see his brother, and Leonard got more and more curious as to why Sam didn't play a more active part in Jim's life than what he had seen so far.
When the two brothers finally withdrew, Sam turned towards Leonard with a smile and stretched out his hand.
"Hello, you have to be Leonard. I'm Sam."
Leonard took the offered hand and shook it, pretending that he didn't notice the way Jim was looking at him from the side, wide-eyed and insecure. "Good to meet you, Sam."
Sam's grip was firm, and there was a twinkle in his eyes as he shook Leonard's hand. His eyes seemed a lighter brown somehow, now that he looked directly at him. Leonard knew that it was impossible that his eyes had really changed color, but his brows weren't drawn together now, his eyes wider and thus seemingly lighter. He held himself completely different, too, his posture straighter and not slouching as much as he had done upon their arrival, and if Leonard hadn't seen him just a few minutes ago, he wouldn't believe that this was the same person.
"About time Jimmy came by to introduce his boyfriend."
"Sam!" Jim whined indignantly, if such a combination was even possible.
Sam just laughed and gestured towards the sofa. "Just saying it as it is, Jimmy. Now come on, sit down, I'll fix us a coffee."
As Sam went to the replicator - a much more simple contraption than the ones at the Academy, Leonard noticed - Jim sank down on the sofa beside Leonard, tense with nervous energy. His leg started bouncing up and down, and Leonard had to suppress the urge to place his hand on top of Jim's knee to stop the movement.
"Didn't they tell you that we were coming?"
"They did," Sam said, rubbing a hand over his neck in a nervous gesture that was so reminiscent of Jim that Leonard felt something heavy settle in his stomach. Sam took the cups from the replicator once they were done and carried them over. He settled into the armchair beside Jim and took a sip from his own cup. Plastic cups, Leonard noticed, going right along with what he had seen earlier.
"But they also adjusted my meds over the past week, and it threw my usual rhythm a little out of whack. I'm sorry about earlier, I had really planned on being around when you arrived. I hope he didn't say or do anything nasty."
Jim smiled, though Leonard could tell that it was forced, and not completely honest. "It's okay Sam. I know how to deal with Grant. Is there a reason why they're readjusting your meds?"
Sam shrugged and shook his head at the same time. "The usual. You probably know my medical file better than I do, Jimmy. Now that you're here, I really want to talk about something more entertaining than my daily drug intake. How's life at the Academy treating you?" Brown eyes quickly darted over towards Leonard. "Jim wrote that you're on the Medical track. I guess that's why he keeps calling you Bones, isn't it?"
Leonard laughed. "Oh, you have to ask your brother about that. It's not like he ever asked me for permission, or deigned to explain his reasons."
Somehow, it broke the ice, and for his part Leonard enjoyed the next one and a half hours of their visit with Sam. He was similar to Jim in so many ways that it was nearly painful - he was open, a lively talker and an active listener, intelligent and witty, though compared to Jim he seemed more subdued, uneasy at being the center of attention.
Leonard got along with him easily, though, so easily in fact that it surprised him. Especially after the confusing scenes upon their arrival, he got the feeling that this meeting could have ended vastly different. As it was, it turned out a pleasant visit, so pleasant that at times Leonard could even forget about the somewhat oppressive setting of the Medical facility around them.
As it was, he was content to watch as Jim and his brother caught up on each other's lives, involving himself in the conversation when either Sam or Jim asked for it, but otherwise also content to just sit back and watch, letting the impressions wash over him. Jim seemed to get more and more relaxed as the time passed, falling into an easy pattern of banter and conversation with his brother. It was obvious that once it was time for them to go, it was hard for both brothers to say goodbye, but Sam also seemed tired, as if the visit had thrown him so much out of his usual rhythm that it had exhausted him.
They left the facility silently, and even during the shuttle ride back to their hotel near the spaceport Jim remained silent, looking out of the shuttle's window even as his hand came to rest on Leonard's arm, squeezing in silent support as soon as the engines started up and the shuttle took off.
Once they were back at the hotel, Jim sank down onto the bed with a sigh, unlacing his boots but not taking them off. His eyes didn't meet Leonard's, not even once he sat down on the bed beside him.
"So," he finally said. "That's Sam. My brother."
Leonard didn't quite know what Jim expected him to say. But even though Jim still wasn't looking at him, Leonard could read the expression on his lover's face. And he was confused, because he looked as if he expected…well, if he didn't know better he'd say Jim looked as if he expected Leonard to make some sort of judgment about him now.
If that's what Jim was waiting for, though, Leonard wasn't going to give it to him.
"When was he diagnosed?"
Jim's shoulders sagged and he sighed, as if Leonard's reaction came as a relief. "A couple of months after we came back from Tarsus."
"Dissociative identity disorder?"
Jim nodded. "That's the diagnosis they eventually settled on, yes. Took them about half a year to get there, though."
"It's still not an easy disorder to diagnose, despite all advancements in medicine."
It made sense, though. That disorder, while still largely unexplained, was often associated with the experience of great trauma. Leonard thought that being on Tarsus IV during the famine certainly qualified. The only thing that astonished him a little was that Sam had already been a teenager at the time.
"They think he started dissociating at Tarsus?"
Jim shrugged and shifted a little on the bed. Leonard longed to wrap his arm around him and hold him close, but it was obvious from Jim's posture that he didn't want to be touched right now.
"They think it's the most likely explanation."
"But you don't."
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. Once they finally agreed on a diagnosis and I read up on it…I don't know. There have been moments before, when we were kids. Not often, but there were times when he had these mood swings that came out of nowhere, and at times he seemed confused all of a sudden, as if he had no idea where he was or was confused how he had ended up somewhere. It never stood out, though. Not really. God, at times I even made fun of him…"
He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face.
"They asked me if I had noticed anything on Tarsus. And I mean - of course I did. One day he was angry, almost aggressive, then there were days when he was subdued, almost frightened. Of course he had mood swings, and headaches, but it didn't stand out. I mean, damn it, it was Tarsus. Nothing about that was normal. There wasn't enough food, we were all terrified, and Sam was one of the oldest kids; he thought he had to watch out for all the others. I was just glad he was there, I never once questioned the way he behaved, and never thought anything was wrong with him."
Jim had told Leonard about Tarsus a while back, but ever since then this was the first time that Leonard even heard him mention the planet and the genocide. Back then, Jim had gotten through the story with the help of a bottle of liquor; right now he only seemed exhausted.
"You couldn't have known, Jim." It was one of the most horrible platitudes, but at the same time it was a basic truth Jim needed to understand. "You were a kid, Jim, and Sam is your brother. Nobody looks for dissociative signs in their brother, no matter at what age. It's easy to see those signs in hindsight, but you couldn't have possibly known what was going on with him."
"I know," Jim replied, but his voice was flat and it didn't sound as if he believed it himself. Leonard scooted closer and placed his palm between the other man's shoulder blades. Jim stiffened slightly, but he didn't try to shrug off the contact.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," he finally said. "I really thought that Sam would be…well, Sam once we arrived. I wanted you to meet him before I told you."
"It's okay."
Jim laughed. "Of course. Just fine. Nothing strange at all about meeting someone with multiple personalities. Just another day at the office."
"Jim, stop it. What do you want to hear? Of course it was confusing at first, but I get why you wanted me to meet him before you told me."
Jim shrugged, but it was a helpless gesture, as if he didn't know what he could possibly say. So Leonard took it upon himself to fill the silence.
"How many personalities are there?"
Jim pulled his feet up on the edge of the bed, still not facing Leonard. He looked oddly vulnerable like that, with all his defenses lowered, and his emotions raw and close to the surface. At first, Leonard thought that Jim wasn't going to answer him, but after a moment, the muscles in his back grew tense as he drew a big breath.
"Four that we know of. It's gotten better, though. After Tarsus…he was unhinged. Shifted from one personality to another randomly, and you never knew what caused it, never knew who you'd be facing a few minutes down the road. A day like today, where he's himself for so long, that wouldn't have been possible back then."
There were many questions Leonard wanted to ask, far more than he knew Jim was going to be willing or able to answer tonight.
"Yet now he seems able to control it, at least to some degree. I'm not an expert on mental disorders, but I know that there are plenty of people suffering from that disorder who manage just fine in everyday life, at least with a little help and guidance."
Jim released a breath that was a strange mixture of an indignant puff and a choked off sob.
"And now you want to know why the hell I shirked my brother off to a medical facility instead of helping him lead a normal life."
Aggression was creeping into Jim's voice, and Leonard shifted his hand from the middle of Jim's back to his right shoulder, squeezing just once.
"I know that it probably has a reason why he's here on Deneva. I'm just curious why, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Jim remained silent for a long moment. So long that in fact Leonard started to wonder whether the other man was clamming up on him. But he waited for Jim to make the next move, and eventually his patience was rewarded as Jim spoke again.
"You met Sam. You met Grant, even though it wasn't exactly part of the plan. The third…there's a personality called Colin, but he doesn't really take over often. For a while, the doctors tried to coax him out, but whoever he is, however old he is, he's pretty scared. And there's the fourth personality that the doctors know of, and he's…he's the reason why Sam is on Deneva."
It didn't sound as if the rest of the story could possibly be good, but as Leonard looked into Jim's eyes he got the sinking feeling that whatever his lover was about to tell him was going to be even worse than he imagined.
"The summer after we came back from Tarsus, Sam…" Jim shook his head, as if he had started the whole story wrong. "I told you about Frank."
Leonard nodded, slightly confused. Jim had told him about his step-father, or rather his former step-father. Not much, but enough to know that Jim hadn't exactly been sad when Winona had filed for divorce.
"He and Sam, they never got along. Me and him neither, but for different reasons. But he and Sam, that was open war, and it got worse and worse. Sam ran away for the first time when he was fifteen, and it definitely wasn't the last. He did it again and again over the following years, so often that Frank didn't even take it seriously anymore when he was gone for the night, or even for a few days. Sam always came back, after all, or he was brought back by the authorities. And one day, when Sam was seventeen, the police picked him up and brought him back home. Mom was somewhere in space charting a nebula or something, and when the police threatened to alert social services, Frank got pissed off about all the trouble Sam was causing."
Again, Jim was clenching and unclenching his hands, blunt nails leaving crescent impressions in his palms. Leonard had an idea where this could be headed.
"Things got physical, I take it."
Jim laughed mirthlessly. "That wouldn't have been the first time. But yeah, things got physical. It…it wasn't like the other times. Sam lost it, Bones. It wasn't the first time that Frank clogged him one, or threatened to take a belt to him, and it wasn't even the first time that Sam fought back. Only that time, Sam completely lost it. Frank pushed him back, just once, and it was as if he exploded. He was completely out of control. I didn't even recognize him. I've never seen him so furious before, not once in my entire life, and I've never seen him get violent like that. Not even when Frank did, but this time it was as if he was letting go of every bit of self-restraint. I tried to pull him off, but he just pushed me away. That wasn't my brother, Bones. That wasn't Sam."
Leonard's throat tightened. "What happened?"
"He nearly killed Frank, that's what happened. I don't know if I eventually managed to pull him off, or if he stopped on his own, if Sam managed to get back into control. But Sam was a mess once he stopped, as if he couldn't believe that he had done that. Frank was hurt so badly that we had to call an ambulance, and then they called the police right back, and they took Sam with them. He was arrested first, and then they did a psych evaluation and he was admitted. Half a year later they finally settled on a diagnosis, and he was shifted from institution to institution, from doctors to specialists and back again. Mom interrupted her tour and came back, and she tried to keep it from me, but it's not as if I could have missed all those meetings, all those discussions with doctors on where Sam would get the best treatment."
"Does Starfleet know?"
Jim nodded, his Adam's apple bopping up and down as he swallowed hard.
"Yeah, they do. For a while, Sam was treated at Starfleet Medical, but they weren't really able to help him, either. They did take care to keep it out of the media, though. Can't have it be public knowledge that one of the sons of the great hero George Kirk is suffering from a mental illness."
Again, he laughed that harsh, mirthless laugh that was such an un-Jim sound that Leonard never wanted to hear it again.
"He came to Deneva eight years ago. The facility specializes in cases like his, and he did make a lot of progress here. I don't know how much you know about treating this kind of disorder, but the way Sam was acting earlier, the way he can shift between personalities if he wants to, that was unthinkable when he first came here. Sam, the real Sam, he didn't even know about the other personalities before. It's like a coping mechanism, they say. That there were some things Sam couldn't deal with, and it got so extreme that he split his personality to protect himself. He created a new personality to deal with that trauma, one that was completely removed from Sam himself. The doctors were hoping that if they introduced the personalities to one another, made them aware of each other, they'd eventually manage to…you know, make Sam deal with the trauma. Maybe even eventually make him whole again, or at least able to live with being the way he is."
Leonard understood the medical approach, even if he was no specialist on that kind of disorder. But if therapy could make Sam confront the reason for the split personalities, if they could make him deal with whatever happened, the existence of the other personalities would become redundant. They might vanish, or unite, he really didn't know. He'd have to read up on dissociative disorders as soon as they were back at the Academy.
"They haven't gotten there yet, though. Or have they?"
Jim shook his head. "No. They…Sam knows about his illness. He knows about his other personalities, and they in turn know about him. So when something happens like earlier, when he gets in control again after one of the other personalities was, he's no longer confused about what happened. He knows that one of the others took over. He doesn't remember what they might have done, but at least he knows why he doesn't remember."
"And he can switch if he wants to. Like when you told Grant that you wanted to talk to Sam."
Jim nodded. "Yeah. It…if it's Grant, it works. And, it might sound weird, but I know when it's Sam I'm talking to and when not."
Leonard didn't doubt it for a second. He didn't know Sam, or any of his other personalities, but even he had noticed the differences earlier - different posture, different behavior, patterns of speech - the signs had been there. And Jim knew Sam a lot better than Leonard did. He had no doubts that Jim could distinguish between his brother's different personalities.
"Doesn't sound weird at all. They're different people."
"Yeah." There was a catch in Jim's voice, and once more Leonard squeezed his shoulder. Jim didn't lean into the touch, but he also didn't withdraw from it, and Leonard decided to take that as a good sign.
"The thing is, Bones, I don't think they're getting anywhere. Sam's been on Deneva for eight years. And it's…it's a good place for him. It helped him. And he's not locked up in a padded room. Outside of visiting hours, he can go wherever he wants in the facility. The just have the curfew during visiting hours because some of the patients don't deal well with strangers, but he can go wherever he wants at any other time. He can do what he wants, too - he's got access to all kinds of databases, he can use the comm, they got this whole physical exercise program for the patients. When he's himself, he's almost brilliant. I wasn't lying when I told you he's a microbiologist. He did his school, finished his degree, everything. Once he learned to have at least a little control over his condition, he was able to do all these things. But it's not like he could hold a steady job, or work on a regular research project. His condition is too…he's not really stable enough for that."
"Because of the fourth personality."
Jim nodded, slowly and deliberately. "Yeah, you could say that."
"I'm guessing he's the one who did that to Frank."
Jim nodded again, and it wasn't as if this was a big revelation. Jim had said that Sam had lost it, hadn't seemed himself when he attacked Frank. And though Leonard didn't really know much about the personality of Grant, he had seemed more like all bark and no bite, someone who was snarky and liked to hear himself talk, but far too aloof to resort to violence.
"He calls himself Tyler. That day when he tried to…when he attacked Frank, it was the only time I ever saw him."
"Considering the severe lack of pointy and sharp things in his apartment, I'd say it wasn't the only time he ever appeared, though."
Finally, for the first time since their return to the hotel room, Jim turned his head and looked at Leonard. His eyes were red, and the light from the ceiling light fixture made his brow throw a shadow over them. He looked tired, exhausted even, and rubbed raw from the events of the day. He looked so incredibly young that Leonard wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him, hold him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. But he couldn't lie to Jim, and Sam's condition wasn't one that was going to magically resolve itself into a happy ending. There was no point trying to pretend it would just to soothe Jim through a rough spot.
"Nothing gets past you, does it?"
Leonard shrugged. "It stood out. But I'll tell you again, and as often as you need to hear it, you don't have to talk about it."
Jim's subsequent shrug was defeated, and if anything that hurt Leonard even more than the whole situation already did.
"It was three years ago. By that time, Sam had managed to deal with Grant. He could control, at least to a degree, when he let Grant take over and when not. But the doctors didn't make much progress with the other personalities. So they tried to adjust his medication, and tried to…well, not lure the others to the foreground, but to give them a chance to take over. From what they said later on, Sam had a reaction to one of the medications they tried. An allergic reaction, of all things." He was averting his eyes again, as if the story was easier to tell without eye-contact.
"It was nothing big, medically speaking. But his airways were closing up, and with the doctors and nurses crowding around him, I guess he felt panicked. They gave him epinephrine, but…from what they said later, their explanation was that it was too late. Sam realized something was wrong, that he couldn't breathe, and was in some sort of danger, and he…he couldn't deal with it, didn't know what to do, so he let the personality take over who was there to deal with threats."
Judged by what Jim had told him about the attack on Frank, it must have gotten pretty violent.
"How bad was it?"
Jim shook his head and wiped a hand under his eyes, just a quick movement, and one Leonard decided to pretend he hadn't seen.
"Bad. Bad enough that they took away everything he could harm himself or others with. He put two of the male nurses in the hospital, and it took four people to restrain him so that they could sedate him. It never happened again since then, but they never managed to draw Tyler out again, either."
He rubbed his hands over his face hard, then spread his arms as if to encompass everything he had just told Leonard.
"There you have it. The big Kirk family secret."
"Jim…"
"Not exactly the thing you tell at cocktail parties, but there it is. The whole, unadulterated truth."
Leonard knew that tone, he just could have never thought Jim would use it on him. He thought they were beyond this defensive and deflective behavior.
"Jim, what do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. It's one hell of an opening I gave you, what with me revealing my crazy brother."
Now it was Leonard's turn to shake his head, and despite Jim's repeated attempts to not meet his eyes he grabbed him by his shoulders and gave them a slight shake.
"All right, first of all - mental disorders can happen to pretty much anybody. Dissociative disorder isn't even something genetic, so just because Sam was unlucky enough to get tangled up in it doesn't have anything to do with you…"
The look in Jim's eyes said it all, and at that moment Leonard wanted to punch somebody - whoever was responsible for Sam's mental state, but most of all, anybody who had ever dared to hurt Jim about it, treating him as if somehow his brother's illness reflected back on him.
"Someone told you it did, didn't they? Some stupid asshole made you feel that it was your fault, or that it had anything to do with you."
"Leave it be, Bones. Just…just leave it."
"No, damn it! I don't know whoever was stupid enough to give you that kind of crap, but whatever happened to Sam to cause this condition, I'm sure it had absolutely nothing to do with you. There was nothing you could have done, and nothing you should have seen. Mental disorders are a horrible thing, and unfortunately they happen to good people who would have earned better. Sam got dealt the shitty card in all this, and all I see is that you're dealing with it. You care about your brother. Trust me, I've seen people turn away from their family for cases much less serious than his."
"I just…" Jim shook his head again and then, as if he finally ran out of strength to hold up the façade, let his head drop forward onto Leonard's shoulder. "I feel like there should be more I can do. I come visit him as often as I can, but I just don't manage to come here more often than twice, maybe three times a year. And it's difficult to schedule comm calls if you don't know how he'll be doing that day, so I write him letters that he can read once he's himself and feels up to it. But…Bones, that can't be all, for crying out loud!"
Some things made more sense now, like the way Jim had vanished over the holidays for the past two years, even though he had repeatedly mentioned that he hadn't made any plans. It also explained why he had been in a somber and subdued mood upon his return to the Academy each time. Leonard wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and held him, not too tightly but in a way that he hoped conveyed that he was there, and that he was going to hold on for how ever long it took.
"It's not easy with that kind of disorder, Jim. Sometimes, there is no real cure, just the possibility to find a way to live with it."
Jim shook his head against Leonard's shoulder. "It's not fair, damn it. Whatever the doctors wanted, Sam always went along. He sat through all those therapy sessions, he let them use all kinds of medications on him. He has earned that there's some sort of goal he can actually reach. He has earned at least the hope that one day he can get out of here and lead a normal life, have a job, maybe have a family of his own one day. How can he have that if he's locked up here for years while everyone he cares about just go on live their lives and have everything he'll never get?"
Leonard got the feeling that this was one of the core problems Jim had about this. A variation of survivor's guilt, guilt that Jim got to live his life while his brother was forced to stay here on Deneva. It wasn't a healthy way of thinking, but it was also nothing he could just take off Jim's shoulders with a few simple words.
"The thing is, would he be better if he wasn't here, Jim? Would he be able to settle into a normal life somewhere, or would there still be the danger that something he cannot control could break free? It's not punishment to keep him here if this is a place where people can help him."
"I just get the feeling that being here, it's not helping him anymore, not as much as it initially did. The way he's now, he's been like this for nearly the past two years. There's been no progress."
Maybe that was the one thing he could do something about. One hand tangled in the short hair at the base of Jim's neck, he pressed a kiss to the top of Jim's head.
"Do you have access to Sam's medical files?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah. I'm his next of kin. I have power of attorney, and complete access to his files."
Leonard chose not to ask the question where Winona fit into all of this. If Jim wanted to tell him, he would. In his own time, like he did with everything else.
"Get me a copy of his complete file. I don't have enough experience with these disorders, but I know someone who might. A lady by the name of Allison Carter. We went to medical school together, and she specialized on mental disorders, though I think her main focus of research was schizophrenia. But if there is a specialist who might be able to help Sam better than the people here, she's bound to know, or bound to know someone who knows. It can't hurt to contact her about it, see what she has to say."
Jim lifted his head off of Leonard's shoulder, his eyes wide and strangely almost fearful.
"Bones, I brought you here because you wanted to know about Sam, and because I wanted you to meet him. I didn't…I wasn't doing it to get you to pull any strings for me."
"I know." He leaned forward a little and pressed a kiss on Jim's cheek. "I'm still offering, though. And I can't make any promises, it might turn out that Allison can't point us towards someone. But I'd say it's worth a try."
It took a few seconds, but finally Jim nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Bones."
"You're welcome." He shifted a little, pulling Jim against his shoulder again. Jim sank against him with a sigh, his own arms finally coming up to wrap around Leonard's waist. He seemed exhausted, and though Leonard wanted nothing more than to take away some of the burden the younger man was carrying, he couldn't. He knew he couldn't, but he was damn well going to be there for Jim when it seemed that everybody else had abandoned him and left him to deal with it on his own.
"I'm going to order us something to eat, and I don't want to hear any complaints about any possible greens you might find on your plate. And then you're going to try and get some sleep. We won't have to leave until tomorrow afternoon, so there should be enough time for you to visit Sam again if you want to."
Jim looked up, a frown on his face. "You don't want to come?"
"I didn't say that. But I thought that maybe you'd want to spend some time with him, just the two of you."
Jim shook his head. "You can come along, if you want. I got the feeling Sam likes you."
Leonard smiled. "Maybe that's because by now I know how to handle Kirks in all their shapes and forms."
That finally did the trick and brought a smile to Jim's face. "Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet. Try having a civil conversation with my great-aunt Matilda, especially after her third Cardassian Sunrise. She scared plenty of people away from this family before."
Leonard shook his head, but he made sure to catch Jim's eye and hold his gaze before he spoke again.
"It's gonna take a whole lot more than that to scare me off, Jim. A whole lot more than that."
He waited until Jim gave a small nod to show him that he understood that Leonard wasn't only talking about drunk old aunts, or even brothers with mental disorders. Jim knew about his demons, even if it hadn't always been easy to let the younger man in. He needed for Jim to understand that it was a two-way street. And maybe that wasn't going to happen today, or tomorrow, but he got the feeling that they had made a start. They'd just have to take it step by step from there.
Pressing a last kiss to Jim's forehead, Leonard disentangled himself and got up from the bed.
"I'm going to order us something to eat."
He walked over towards the comm unit in the wall, but stopped halfway and turned when Jim called out to him.
"Hey, Bones."
"Yeah?"
Blue eyes were focused on him, open and honest, and a little less shadowed than earlier.
"Thanks."
Leonard smiled. "Anytime, kid. Anytime."
The End
Thanks for reading. As always, please let me know what you think. Thanks a lot.
Author: laughter_now
Rating: R, to err on the side of caution. Mentions of violence, though no depiction of it.
Wordcount: 7636 words
Warnings: Talk about and depiction of mental disorders
Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable in this, I just play in other people's sandbox.
Summary: Every family has its secrets. Leonard thought he knew most of Jim's, but he was wrong.
For the prompt "Multiple personalities: always there" on my h/c_bingo card.
A/N: I'm in no way an expert on the things I write about in this story. In fact, my only knowledge about the topic comes from some internet research and from having read Matt Ruff's "Set This House in Order" a while ago - and the latter is a novel, not a scientific text.
This is a fictional story, and in no way meant to be an accurate depiction of any kind of mental disease. I mean no offense to people suffering from dissociative identity disorder, and all mistakes are my own and solely to blame on a lack of knowledge on the topic.
Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Jim was growing more and more subdued the farther they progressed into the facility. He had already been unusually quiet during the shuttle ride, and by now he was nervously balling his hands into fists at his side as they walked.
Leonard didn't comment on it though, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it had been the wrong choice to come here, the wrong choice to pressure Jim about it. He had simply been curious, trying to figure out why there was this one blank spot in Jim's family history that he tried to keep evading at all costs. He had thought that maybe, if he didn't let up and kept asking, Jim was finally going to explain.
He hadn't expected Jim to drag him here, without much of an explanation other than that they were going to visit Sam.
Jim's elusive brother. The one family member he hardly ever talked about, even though the few times he did tell Leonard about their childhood, the fondness was obvious in his voice. It were always childhood memories Jim related though, and no mention of Sam after Tarsus. If Leonard hadn't known that Jim's brother had survived the famine and Kodos' reign, he would have assumed Sam had been amongst those four thousand unlucky souls that hadn't left Tarsus alive.
But Sam had survived, and somehow, he had ended up here on Deneva, a planet that looked less and less like a scientific research base, and more and more like something else entirely to Leonard. Now that they were here, maybe Leonard was about to learn why Jim never mentioned his brother, and why the only contact between them were the monthly letters Jim wrote. Letters which, to the best of Leonard's knowledge, were hardly ever answered, if at all.
The facility had come as the first surprise. As far as Leonard knew, Sam was working as a microbiologist on Deneva, but this didn't look like a research station, and neither did it look like a dorm or housing facility for scientists. If there was one thing Leonard knew, it was the sight, smell and feel of a medical facility. And this building looked, smelled and felt like a hospital.
They didn't meet anybody on the corridors, though. No doctors, nurses or patients. The doors to their left and right were all closed, and after Jim had given his and Leonard's names at the check-in desk and they had received their visitor's badges, they had been free to move around the facility. It was…a bit disconcerting, Leonard thought. He was sure that this was in a hospital, yet in so many ways it didn't feel like one, either.
After turning another corner, Jim stopped in front of yet another closed door. It looked just like all the other doors they had passed, and the only difference was the room number to the left of the doorjamb, and the name-tag beneath it.
Kirk, George S.
For the first time since they had entered the facility, Jim turned around and looked at Leonard. It was obvious that the simple move had cost him a lot of effort, but he met Leonard's gaze head on.
"I could explain, but I think you'll understand better if you see him. Sam is a lot better at explaining this than I am. I just don't know what…how he is feeling today, though…"
Leonard shook his head. "Listen Jim, whatever is going on, we don't have to do this."
"No, it's okay. I want you to meet him. I want him to meet you. It's just…you'll understand in a moment. I just can't guarantee you that this is going to work out."
The words did nothing to help soothe the anxiety that had settled in his gut, but Leonard tried to console himself in the fact that whatever illness the older Kirk brother was suffering from, the doctors wouldn't have let them in to see him if his condition was in any way unstable or volatile. The fact that they could have just come in here, with nothing more than a day's prior announcement, told him that it couldn't possibly be as bad as Jim made it out to be just now.
Jim drew a breath, his shoulders hitching slightly with a sudden tension, then he pressed the buzzer beside the door and waited for it to slide open.
Leonard was surprised to see that it was no hospital room in the classical sense behind that door. Rather, they had entered what looked like a small apartment, complete with a kitchen area, a living area, a door branching off into what he suspected was the bathroom, and a partition that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment.
But still, something was off about the image. There was the usual clutter of inhabitation strewn around - books in the shelves against the walls, a few PADDs on the sofa table, a sweatshirt hanging over the back of an armchair. But some things were different form a normal household. There were no pictures hanging on the walls, no image-frames of any kind, no mirrors or glass surfaces anywhere. There were plastic cups instead of glasses in the kitchen cupboard, and even the windows looked every bit as if they were made of an unbreakable acrylic material rather than conventional glass. Also, even from across the room, Leonard could clearly see the locking mechanism on the windows. They could probably be tilted open, but not slid open all the way.
The door hissed shut behind them, and Leonard's eyes fell onto the man who was sitting at the small table beneath the window, looking up curiously at their entrance.
The resemblance to Jim was striking at first sight. Though Sam was obviously the older of the two, their faces looked remarkably similar - the same bone structure, the same high brows and full lips. But where Jim's eyes were that startling blue that still made Leonard's breath catch occasionally, Sam's eyes were brown, and his hair was a shade darker as Jim's was, too. He was lean, and from what Leonard could judge by his sitting position, also tall. At least as tall as Jim, if not even a slight bit taller.
He was watching them curiously as they approached, his head cocked slightly to the side and his brows furrowed slightly. Beside him, Jim's steps faltered a little, just a slight hitch in his stride that anybody else probably wouldn't eve have noticed, but which to him stood out glaringly. Leonard wondered what all this meant.
"Hello," Jim said carefully, stopping a few steps away from his brother. Leonard's feeling that something was definitely off here only increased. Sam looked at Jim for a moment longer, with a small smile playing around the corners of his lips. But it wasn't the smile of a brother who was happy to experience a family reunion.
He didn't understand it. Jim had said his brother knew they were coming for a visit, but this looked different. After a few moments, Sam shifted in his chair and his smile widened. There was still something off, though, because the smile didn't look welcoming, let alone happy to see them.
"Jim. Long time, no see."
Sam's voice was deep, and there was a gleam in his eyes that was almost a challenge. Jim sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly in what could almost be called defeat, but still he stepped a little to the side before Leonard could even think of raising his hand and touching him.
"Could I talk to Sam?"
Leonard frowned, turning towards Jim in confusion, but neither of the other men paid him any attention.
Sam didn't seem disturbed by the strange request. Instead, his smile widened and he rolled his eyes, as if he had expected the question.
"Of course. Sam. Everybody only wants to talk to Sam. Nobody ever asks about me. Hello-o! I'm stuck in here just like Sam is. You come here and disturb when it's my turn to drive, the least you could do is throw in a 'how are you, Grant?', don't you think?"
Jim's hands were balling into fists again, but Leonard was still far too confused to even think of stepping in between. He didn't think it was his place to interfere, either, not until he knew what the hell was even going on here. He didn't know who Grant was, but he was sure that this man was Jim's brother. The physical similarities were simply too striking for him not to be. It didn't make sense. Leonard's confusion was warring with a strange mixture of fascination and curiosity, and even though he longed to reach out and at least touch Jim to let him know that whatever was going on, he was there, he felt like he couldn't move.
"How are you, Grant?" Jim asked dutifully, with a wary undertone.
Sam…Grant…whoever he was leaned back in his chair, one arm slung lazily across its back.
"Oh, I'm just awesome, Jim. I'm stuck here with doctors poking and prodding into my most private thoughts and memories on a daily basis, and nothing so much as a regular visit or even a 'hello' from anybody. It's boring as hell, Jim."
"As far as I'm aware, you have full access to the station's library and database."
The only answer this received was an enormous eye-roll. "Oh yes, complete access to all those wonderful books and files, and all that other theoretical crap. Plenty of food for thought, and in case that's not enough I also got free access to the gym. It's like a spa here. A fucking holiday resort with endless fun, just without the beaches. It's so awesome here, I can't understand why anybody would ever want to leave."
Jim sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose the way he normally only did when he was completely exhausted.
"Can I talk to Sam, please?"
The brothers stared into each other's eyes for a few long seconds, and whatever silent conversation passed between them was something Leonard had no insight into. But there was some sort of conversation going on for sure, because after a few seconds Grant - and Leonard still wasn't sure what to think about that - rolled his eyes again.
"Fine, fine. Talk to Sam if you have to."
Jim seemed relieved, and his shoulders sagged a little. "Thank you."
It was as if his brother wasn't even listening. Leonard was looking at Sam the whole time, with just a cursory glance at Jim from the corner of his eyes, but still he wasn't too sure of what exactly it was he was seeing. No big shift, no sudden change or anything that was really visible, but still from one moment to the next he had the feeling that something vital about Sam had changed.
Jim's brother took the arm from the back of his chair where he had draped it earlier, and sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders as he looked first at Jim, then at Leonard, and back to Jim again. Leonard could have sworn that he seemed a little confused, but as soon as he looked at Jim, his eyes widened and a huge smile spread on his face.
"Jimmy!"
He got up from the chair he had been sitting on, crossed the distance towards Jim and engulfed his brother in a tight embrace. Jim hugged him back, relief evident in each of his movements, and seeing the shift in his lover's behavior, Leonard allowed himself to relax a little as well. He was still confused, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, but he didn't want to deepen his suspicions in any way before he had the chance to talk to Jim about them. If Leonard was right with what he thought was going on with Sam, Jim was going to have to start explaining at some point.
For now, he stood and watched as the two brothers hugged, and for some reason he was relieved to see that there was real emotion behind the embrace. He could read Jim, and he knew that he wouldn't drop his defenses this way with just about anyone. Sam seemed equally relieved and excited to see his brother, and Leonard got more and more curious as to why Sam didn't play a more active part in Jim's life than what he had seen so far.
When the two brothers finally withdrew, Sam turned towards Leonard with a smile and stretched out his hand.
"Hello, you have to be Leonard. I'm Sam."
Leonard took the offered hand and shook it, pretending that he didn't notice the way Jim was looking at him from the side, wide-eyed and insecure. "Good to meet you, Sam."
Sam's grip was firm, and there was a twinkle in his eyes as he shook Leonard's hand. His eyes seemed a lighter brown somehow, now that he looked directly at him. Leonard knew that it was impossible that his eyes had really changed color, but his brows weren't drawn together now, his eyes wider and thus seemingly lighter. He held himself completely different, too, his posture straighter and not slouching as much as he had done upon their arrival, and if Leonard hadn't seen him just a few minutes ago, he wouldn't believe that this was the same person.
"About time Jimmy came by to introduce his boyfriend."
"Sam!" Jim whined indignantly, if such a combination was even possible.
Sam just laughed and gestured towards the sofa. "Just saying it as it is, Jimmy. Now come on, sit down, I'll fix us a coffee."
As Sam went to the replicator - a much more simple contraption than the ones at the Academy, Leonard noticed - Jim sank down on the sofa beside Leonard, tense with nervous energy. His leg started bouncing up and down, and Leonard had to suppress the urge to place his hand on top of Jim's knee to stop the movement.
"Didn't they tell you that we were coming?"
"They did," Sam said, rubbing a hand over his neck in a nervous gesture that was so reminiscent of Jim that Leonard felt something heavy settle in his stomach. Sam took the cups from the replicator once they were done and carried them over. He settled into the armchair beside Jim and took a sip from his own cup. Plastic cups, Leonard noticed, going right along with what he had seen earlier.
"But they also adjusted my meds over the past week, and it threw my usual rhythm a little out of whack. I'm sorry about earlier, I had really planned on being around when you arrived. I hope he didn't say or do anything nasty."
Jim smiled, though Leonard could tell that it was forced, and not completely honest. "It's okay Sam. I know how to deal with Grant. Is there a reason why they're readjusting your meds?"
Sam shrugged and shook his head at the same time. "The usual. You probably know my medical file better than I do, Jimmy. Now that you're here, I really want to talk about something more entertaining than my daily drug intake. How's life at the Academy treating you?" Brown eyes quickly darted over towards Leonard. "Jim wrote that you're on the Medical track. I guess that's why he keeps calling you Bones, isn't it?"
Leonard laughed. "Oh, you have to ask your brother about that. It's not like he ever asked me for permission, or deigned to explain his reasons."
Somehow, it broke the ice, and for his part Leonard enjoyed the next one and a half hours of their visit with Sam. He was similar to Jim in so many ways that it was nearly painful - he was open, a lively talker and an active listener, intelligent and witty, though compared to Jim he seemed more subdued, uneasy at being the center of attention.
Leonard got along with him easily, though, so easily in fact that it surprised him. Especially after the confusing scenes upon their arrival, he got the feeling that this meeting could have ended vastly different. As it was, it turned out a pleasant visit, so pleasant that at times Leonard could even forget about the somewhat oppressive setting of the Medical facility around them.
As it was, he was content to watch as Jim and his brother caught up on each other's lives, involving himself in the conversation when either Sam or Jim asked for it, but otherwise also content to just sit back and watch, letting the impressions wash over him. Jim seemed to get more and more relaxed as the time passed, falling into an easy pattern of banter and conversation with his brother. It was obvious that once it was time for them to go, it was hard for both brothers to say goodbye, but Sam also seemed tired, as if the visit had thrown him so much out of his usual rhythm that it had exhausted him.
They left the facility silently, and even during the shuttle ride back to their hotel near the spaceport Jim remained silent, looking out of the shuttle's window even as his hand came to rest on Leonard's arm, squeezing in silent support as soon as the engines started up and the shuttle took off.
Once they were back at the hotel, Jim sank down onto the bed with a sigh, unlacing his boots but not taking them off. His eyes didn't meet Leonard's, not even once he sat down on the bed beside him.
"So," he finally said. "That's Sam. My brother."
Leonard didn't quite know what Jim expected him to say. But even though Jim still wasn't looking at him, Leonard could read the expression on his lover's face. And he was confused, because he looked as if he expected…well, if he didn't know better he'd say Jim looked as if he expected Leonard to make some sort of judgment about him now.
If that's what Jim was waiting for, though, Leonard wasn't going to give it to him.
"When was he diagnosed?"
Jim's shoulders sagged and he sighed, as if Leonard's reaction came as a relief. "A couple of months after we came back from Tarsus."
"Dissociative identity disorder?"
Jim nodded. "That's the diagnosis they eventually settled on, yes. Took them about half a year to get there, though."
"It's still not an easy disorder to diagnose, despite all advancements in medicine."
It made sense, though. That disorder, while still largely unexplained, was often associated with the experience of great trauma. Leonard thought that being on Tarsus IV during the famine certainly qualified. The only thing that astonished him a little was that Sam had already been a teenager at the time.
"They think he started dissociating at Tarsus?"
Jim shrugged and shifted a little on the bed. Leonard longed to wrap his arm around him and hold him close, but it was obvious from Jim's posture that he didn't want to be touched right now.
"They think it's the most likely explanation."
"But you don't."
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. Once they finally agreed on a diagnosis and I read up on it…I don't know. There have been moments before, when we were kids. Not often, but there were times when he had these mood swings that came out of nowhere, and at times he seemed confused all of a sudden, as if he had no idea where he was or was confused how he had ended up somewhere. It never stood out, though. Not really. God, at times I even made fun of him…"
He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face.
"They asked me if I had noticed anything on Tarsus. And I mean - of course I did. One day he was angry, almost aggressive, then there were days when he was subdued, almost frightened. Of course he had mood swings, and headaches, but it didn't stand out. I mean, damn it, it was Tarsus. Nothing about that was normal. There wasn't enough food, we were all terrified, and Sam was one of the oldest kids; he thought he had to watch out for all the others. I was just glad he was there, I never once questioned the way he behaved, and never thought anything was wrong with him."
Jim had told Leonard about Tarsus a while back, but ever since then this was the first time that Leonard even heard him mention the planet and the genocide. Back then, Jim had gotten through the story with the help of a bottle of liquor; right now he only seemed exhausted.
"You couldn't have known, Jim." It was one of the most horrible platitudes, but at the same time it was a basic truth Jim needed to understand. "You were a kid, Jim, and Sam is your brother. Nobody looks for dissociative signs in their brother, no matter at what age. It's easy to see those signs in hindsight, but you couldn't have possibly known what was going on with him."
"I know," Jim replied, but his voice was flat and it didn't sound as if he believed it himself. Leonard scooted closer and placed his palm between the other man's shoulder blades. Jim stiffened slightly, but he didn't try to shrug off the contact.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," he finally said. "I really thought that Sam would be…well, Sam once we arrived. I wanted you to meet him before I told you."
"It's okay."
Jim laughed. "Of course. Just fine. Nothing strange at all about meeting someone with multiple personalities. Just another day at the office."
"Jim, stop it. What do you want to hear? Of course it was confusing at first, but I get why you wanted me to meet him before you told me."
Jim shrugged, but it was a helpless gesture, as if he didn't know what he could possibly say. So Leonard took it upon himself to fill the silence.
"How many personalities are there?"
Jim pulled his feet up on the edge of the bed, still not facing Leonard. He looked oddly vulnerable like that, with all his defenses lowered, and his emotions raw and close to the surface. At first, Leonard thought that Jim wasn't going to answer him, but after a moment, the muscles in his back grew tense as he drew a big breath.
"Four that we know of. It's gotten better, though. After Tarsus…he was unhinged. Shifted from one personality to another randomly, and you never knew what caused it, never knew who you'd be facing a few minutes down the road. A day like today, where he's himself for so long, that wouldn't have been possible back then."
There were many questions Leonard wanted to ask, far more than he knew Jim was going to be willing or able to answer tonight.
"Yet now he seems able to control it, at least to some degree. I'm not an expert on mental disorders, but I know that there are plenty of people suffering from that disorder who manage just fine in everyday life, at least with a little help and guidance."
Jim released a breath that was a strange mixture of an indignant puff and a choked off sob.
"And now you want to know why the hell I shirked my brother off to a medical facility instead of helping him lead a normal life."
Aggression was creeping into Jim's voice, and Leonard shifted his hand from the middle of Jim's back to his right shoulder, squeezing just once.
"I know that it probably has a reason why he's here on Deneva. I'm just curious why, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Jim remained silent for a long moment. So long that in fact Leonard started to wonder whether the other man was clamming up on him. But he waited for Jim to make the next move, and eventually his patience was rewarded as Jim spoke again.
"You met Sam. You met Grant, even though it wasn't exactly part of the plan. The third…there's a personality called Colin, but he doesn't really take over often. For a while, the doctors tried to coax him out, but whoever he is, however old he is, he's pretty scared. And there's the fourth personality that the doctors know of, and he's…he's the reason why Sam is on Deneva."
It didn't sound as if the rest of the story could possibly be good, but as Leonard looked into Jim's eyes he got the sinking feeling that whatever his lover was about to tell him was going to be even worse than he imagined.
"The summer after we came back from Tarsus, Sam…" Jim shook his head, as if he had started the whole story wrong. "I told you about Frank."
Leonard nodded, slightly confused. Jim had told him about his step-father, or rather his former step-father. Not much, but enough to know that Jim hadn't exactly been sad when Winona had filed for divorce.
"He and Sam, they never got along. Me and him neither, but for different reasons. But he and Sam, that was open war, and it got worse and worse. Sam ran away for the first time when he was fifteen, and it definitely wasn't the last. He did it again and again over the following years, so often that Frank didn't even take it seriously anymore when he was gone for the night, or even for a few days. Sam always came back, after all, or he was brought back by the authorities. And one day, when Sam was seventeen, the police picked him up and brought him back home. Mom was somewhere in space charting a nebula or something, and when the police threatened to alert social services, Frank got pissed off about all the trouble Sam was causing."
Again, Jim was clenching and unclenching his hands, blunt nails leaving crescent impressions in his palms. Leonard had an idea where this could be headed.
"Things got physical, I take it."
Jim laughed mirthlessly. "That wouldn't have been the first time. But yeah, things got physical. It…it wasn't like the other times. Sam lost it, Bones. It wasn't the first time that Frank clogged him one, or threatened to take a belt to him, and it wasn't even the first time that Sam fought back. Only that time, Sam completely lost it. Frank pushed him back, just once, and it was as if he exploded. He was completely out of control. I didn't even recognize him. I've never seen him so furious before, not once in my entire life, and I've never seen him get violent like that. Not even when Frank did, but this time it was as if he was letting go of every bit of self-restraint. I tried to pull him off, but he just pushed me away. That wasn't my brother, Bones. That wasn't Sam."
Leonard's throat tightened. "What happened?"
"He nearly killed Frank, that's what happened. I don't know if I eventually managed to pull him off, or if he stopped on his own, if Sam managed to get back into control. But Sam was a mess once he stopped, as if he couldn't believe that he had done that. Frank was hurt so badly that we had to call an ambulance, and then they called the police right back, and they took Sam with them. He was arrested first, and then they did a psych evaluation and he was admitted. Half a year later they finally settled on a diagnosis, and he was shifted from institution to institution, from doctors to specialists and back again. Mom interrupted her tour and came back, and she tried to keep it from me, but it's not as if I could have missed all those meetings, all those discussions with doctors on where Sam would get the best treatment."
"Does Starfleet know?"
Jim nodded, his Adam's apple bopping up and down as he swallowed hard.
"Yeah, they do. For a while, Sam was treated at Starfleet Medical, but they weren't really able to help him, either. They did take care to keep it out of the media, though. Can't have it be public knowledge that one of the sons of the great hero George Kirk is suffering from a mental illness."
Again, he laughed that harsh, mirthless laugh that was such an un-Jim sound that Leonard never wanted to hear it again.
"He came to Deneva eight years ago. The facility specializes in cases like his, and he did make a lot of progress here. I don't know how much you know about treating this kind of disorder, but the way Sam was acting earlier, the way he can shift between personalities if he wants to, that was unthinkable when he first came here. Sam, the real Sam, he didn't even know about the other personalities before. It's like a coping mechanism, they say. That there were some things Sam couldn't deal with, and it got so extreme that he split his personality to protect himself. He created a new personality to deal with that trauma, one that was completely removed from Sam himself. The doctors were hoping that if they introduced the personalities to one another, made them aware of each other, they'd eventually manage to…you know, make Sam deal with the trauma. Maybe even eventually make him whole again, or at least able to live with being the way he is."
Leonard understood the medical approach, even if he was no specialist on that kind of disorder. But if therapy could make Sam confront the reason for the split personalities, if they could make him deal with whatever happened, the existence of the other personalities would become redundant. They might vanish, or unite, he really didn't know. He'd have to read up on dissociative disorders as soon as they were back at the Academy.
"They haven't gotten there yet, though. Or have they?"
Jim shook his head. "No. They…Sam knows about his illness. He knows about his other personalities, and they in turn know about him. So when something happens like earlier, when he gets in control again after one of the other personalities was, he's no longer confused about what happened. He knows that one of the others took over. He doesn't remember what they might have done, but at least he knows why he doesn't remember."
"And he can switch if he wants to. Like when you told Grant that you wanted to talk to Sam."
Jim nodded. "Yeah. It…if it's Grant, it works. And, it might sound weird, but I know when it's Sam I'm talking to and when not."
Leonard didn't doubt it for a second. He didn't know Sam, or any of his other personalities, but even he had noticed the differences earlier - different posture, different behavior, patterns of speech - the signs had been there. And Jim knew Sam a lot better than Leonard did. He had no doubts that Jim could distinguish between his brother's different personalities.
"Doesn't sound weird at all. They're different people."
"Yeah." There was a catch in Jim's voice, and once more Leonard squeezed his shoulder. Jim didn't lean into the touch, but he also didn't withdraw from it, and Leonard decided to take that as a good sign.
"The thing is, Bones, I don't think they're getting anywhere. Sam's been on Deneva for eight years. And it's…it's a good place for him. It helped him. And he's not locked up in a padded room. Outside of visiting hours, he can go wherever he wants in the facility. The just have the curfew during visiting hours because some of the patients don't deal well with strangers, but he can go wherever he wants at any other time. He can do what he wants, too - he's got access to all kinds of databases, he can use the comm, they got this whole physical exercise program for the patients. When he's himself, he's almost brilliant. I wasn't lying when I told you he's a microbiologist. He did his school, finished his degree, everything. Once he learned to have at least a little control over his condition, he was able to do all these things. But it's not like he could hold a steady job, or work on a regular research project. His condition is too…he's not really stable enough for that."
"Because of the fourth personality."
Jim nodded, slowly and deliberately. "Yeah, you could say that."
"I'm guessing he's the one who did that to Frank."
Jim nodded again, and it wasn't as if this was a big revelation. Jim had said that Sam had lost it, hadn't seemed himself when he attacked Frank. And though Leonard didn't really know much about the personality of Grant, he had seemed more like all bark and no bite, someone who was snarky and liked to hear himself talk, but far too aloof to resort to violence.
"He calls himself Tyler. That day when he tried to…when he attacked Frank, it was the only time I ever saw him."
"Considering the severe lack of pointy and sharp things in his apartment, I'd say it wasn't the only time he ever appeared, though."
Finally, for the first time since their return to the hotel room, Jim turned his head and looked at Leonard. His eyes were red, and the light from the ceiling light fixture made his brow throw a shadow over them. He looked tired, exhausted even, and rubbed raw from the events of the day. He looked so incredibly young that Leonard wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him, hold him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. But he couldn't lie to Jim, and Sam's condition wasn't one that was going to magically resolve itself into a happy ending. There was no point trying to pretend it would just to soothe Jim through a rough spot.
"Nothing gets past you, does it?"
Leonard shrugged. "It stood out. But I'll tell you again, and as often as you need to hear it, you don't have to talk about it."
Jim's subsequent shrug was defeated, and if anything that hurt Leonard even more than the whole situation already did.
"It was three years ago. By that time, Sam had managed to deal with Grant. He could control, at least to a degree, when he let Grant take over and when not. But the doctors didn't make much progress with the other personalities. So they tried to adjust his medication, and tried to…well, not lure the others to the foreground, but to give them a chance to take over. From what they said later on, Sam had a reaction to one of the medications they tried. An allergic reaction, of all things." He was averting his eyes again, as if the story was easier to tell without eye-contact.
"It was nothing big, medically speaking. But his airways were closing up, and with the doctors and nurses crowding around him, I guess he felt panicked. They gave him epinephrine, but…from what they said later, their explanation was that it was too late. Sam realized something was wrong, that he couldn't breathe, and was in some sort of danger, and he…he couldn't deal with it, didn't know what to do, so he let the personality take over who was there to deal with threats."
Judged by what Jim had told him about the attack on Frank, it must have gotten pretty violent.
"How bad was it?"
Jim shook his head and wiped a hand under his eyes, just a quick movement, and one Leonard decided to pretend he hadn't seen.
"Bad. Bad enough that they took away everything he could harm himself or others with. He put two of the male nurses in the hospital, and it took four people to restrain him so that they could sedate him. It never happened again since then, but they never managed to draw Tyler out again, either."
He rubbed his hands over his face hard, then spread his arms as if to encompass everything he had just told Leonard.
"There you have it. The big Kirk family secret."
"Jim…"
"Not exactly the thing you tell at cocktail parties, but there it is. The whole, unadulterated truth."
Leonard knew that tone, he just could have never thought Jim would use it on him. He thought they were beyond this defensive and deflective behavior.
"Jim, what do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. It's one hell of an opening I gave you, what with me revealing my crazy brother."
Now it was Leonard's turn to shake his head, and despite Jim's repeated attempts to not meet his eyes he grabbed him by his shoulders and gave them a slight shake.
"All right, first of all - mental disorders can happen to pretty much anybody. Dissociative disorder isn't even something genetic, so just because Sam was unlucky enough to get tangled up in it doesn't have anything to do with you…"
The look in Jim's eyes said it all, and at that moment Leonard wanted to punch somebody - whoever was responsible for Sam's mental state, but most of all, anybody who had ever dared to hurt Jim about it, treating him as if somehow his brother's illness reflected back on him.
"Someone told you it did, didn't they? Some stupid asshole made you feel that it was your fault, or that it had anything to do with you."
"Leave it be, Bones. Just…just leave it."
"No, damn it! I don't know whoever was stupid enough to give you that kind of crap, but whatever happened to Sam to cause this condition, I'm sure it had absolutely nothing to do with you. There was nothing you could have done, and nothing you should have seen. Mental disorders are a horrible thing, and unfortunately they happen to good people who would have earned better. Sam got dealt the shitty card in all this, and all I see is that you're dealing with it. You care about your brother. Trust me, I've seen people turn away from their family for cases much less serious than his."
"I just…" Jim shook his head again and then, as if he finally ran out of strength to hold up the façade, let his head drop forward onto Leonard's shoulder. "I feel like there should be more I can do. I come visit him as often as I can, but I just don't manage to come here more often than twice, maybe three times a year. And it's difficult to schedule comm calls if you don't know how he'll be doing that day, so I write him letters that he can read once he's himself and feels up to it. But…Bones, that can't be all, for crying out loud!"
Some things made more sense now, like the way Jim had vanished over the holidays for the past two years, even though he had repeatedly mentioned that he hadn't made any plans. It also explained why he had been in a somber and subdued mood upon his return to the Academy each time. Leonard wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and held him, not too tightly but in a way that he hoped conveyed that he was there, and that he was going to hold on for how ever long it took.
"It's not easy with that kind of disorder, Jim. Sometimes, there is no real cure, just the possibility to find a way to live with it."
Jim shook his head against Leonard's shoulder. "It's not fair, damn it. Whatever the doctors wanted, Sam always went along. He sat through all those therapy sessions, he let them use all kinds of medications on him. He has earned that there's some sort of goal he can actually reach. He has earned at least the hope that one day he can get out of here and lead a normal life, have a job, maybe have a family of his own one day. How can he have that if he's locked up here for years while everyone he cares about just go on live their lives and have everything he'll never get?"
Leonard got the feeling that this was one of the core problems Jim had about this. A variation of survivor's guilt, guilt that Jim got to live his life while his brother was forced to stay here on Deneva. It wasn't a healthy way of thinking, but it was also nothing he could just take off Jim's shoulders with a few simple words.
"The thing is, would he be better if he wasn't here, Jim? Would he be able to settle into a normal life somewhere, or would there still be the danger that something he cannot control could break free? It's not punishment to keep him here if this is a place where people can help him."
"I just get the feeling that being here, it's not helping him anymore, not as much as it initially did. The way he's now, he's been like this for nearly the past two years. There's been no progress."
Maybe that was the one thing he could do something about. One hand tangled in the short hair at the base of Jim's neck, he pressed a kiss to the top of Jim's head.
"Do you have access to Sam's medical files?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah. I'm his next of kin. I have power of attorney, and complete access to his files."
Leonard chose not to ask the question where Winona fit into all of this. If Jim wanted to tell him, he would. In his own time, like he did with everything else.
"Get me a copy of his complete file. I don't have enough experience with these disorders, but I know someone who might. A lady by the name of Allison Carter. We went to medical school together, and she specialized on mental disorders, though I think her main focus of research was schizophrenia. But if there is a specialist who might be able to help Sam better than the people here, she's bound to know, or bound to know someone who knows. It can't hurt to contact her about it, see what she has to say."
Jim lifted his head off of Leonard's shoulder, his eyes wide and strangely almost fearful.
"Bones, I brought you here because you wanted to know about Sam, and because I wanted you to meet him. I didn't…I wasn't doing it to get you to pull any strings for me."
"I know." He leaned forward a little and pressed a kiss on Jim's cheek. "I'm still offering, though. And I can't make any promises, it might turn out that Allison can't point us towards someone. But I'd say it's worth a try."
It took a few seconds, but finally Jim nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Bones."
"You're welcome." He shifted a little, pulling Jim against his shoulder again. Jim sank against him with a sigh, his own arms finally coming up to wrap around Leonard's waist. He seemed exhausted, and though Leonard wanted nothing more than to take away some of the burden the younger man was carrying, he couldn't. He knew he couldn't, but he was damn well going to be there for Jim when it seemed that everybody else had abandoned him and left him to deal with it on his own.
"I'm going to order us something to eat, and I don't want to hear any complaints about any possible greens you might find on your plate. And then you're going to try and get some sleep. We won't have to leave until tomorrow afternoon, so there should be enough time for you to visit Sam again if you want to."
Jim looked up, a frown on his face. "You don't want to come?"
"I didn't say that. But I thought that maybe you'd want to spend some time with him, just the two of you."
Jim shook his head. "You can come along, if you want. I got the feeling Sam likes you."
Leonard smiled. "Maybe that's because by now I know how to handle Kirks in all their shapes and forms."
That finally did the trick and brought a smile to Jim's face. "Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet. Try having a civil conversation with my great-aunt Matilda, especially after her third Cardassian Sunrise. She scared plenty of people away from this family before."
Leonard shook his head, but he made sure to catch Jim's eye and hold his gaze before he spoke again.
"It's gonna take a whole lot more than that to scare me off, Jim. A whole lot more than that."
He waited until Jim gave a small nod to show him that he understood that Leonard wasn't only talking about drunk old aunts, or even brothers with mental disorders. Jim knew about his demons, even if it hadn't always been easy to let the younger man in. He needed for Jim to understand that it was a two-way street. And maybe that wasn't going to happen today, or tomorrow, but he got the feeling that they had made a start. They'd just have to take it step by step from there.
Pressing a last kiss to Jim's forehead, Leonard disentangled himself and got up from the bed.
"I'm going to order us something to eat."
He walked over towards the comm unit in the wall, but stopped halfway and turned when Jim called out to him.
"Hey, Bones."
"Yeah?"
Blue eyes were focused on him, open and honest, and a little less shadowed than earlier.
"Thanks."
Leonard smiled. "Anytime, kid. Anytime."
The End
Thanks for reading. As always, please let me know what you think. Thanks a lot.