[fic] Start Infinity Again (K/S, 2/13, NC-17)

[rynne]

Chapter One


Two
2371 - The Nexus

"You don't need to be on the bridge of a starship," Picard implored. "Come with me. Help me stop Soran." He paused. "Make a difference again."

Jim couldn't really say it was like waking from a dream. The Idaho sky was still above him, the earth firm beneath his feet. A sense of unreality persisted, though. He still had difficulty believing this was not his universe, even given the evidence.

Instinct, on the other hand, told him Picard was right.

"How can I argue with the Captain of the Enterprise?" he replied, almost wryly. God, the Enterprise...how long had it been since he'd even thought of the Enterprise? "What was the name of that planet -- Veridian III?"

"That's right."

"I take it the odds are against us, and the situation is grim?"

"You could say that."

"Of course, if Spock were here--" God, Spock. Spock. "--he'd say I was being an irrational, illogical human being for wanting to go on a mission like that." Jim grinned. He knew exactly how Spock would sound. "Sounds like fun."

He turned with Picard and just started walking when he stopped. Perhaps the brief mention of Spock gave him pause -- God, how could he have not thought about Spock for who knows how long -- or perhaps it was the instincts of the captain welling up in him again after such a long hibernation.

He'd once been counted one of the greatest tactical minds of his generation. It was pure stupidity to walk into a situation knowing so little.

"Captain Kirk?" Picard turned back to face him. "Aren't you coming?"

"I haven't changed my mind," Jim assured him. "But I think you should tell me a bit more, before we get in the middle of a situation. Unless this is something time-sensitive?"

"I don't think it is." Picard crossed his arms over his chest. "Guinan told me the Nexus is outside of time. We can enter our true reality at a time and place of our choosing."

Jim blinked for a moment, then stared. "A time and place of our choosing -- I could go back to the Enterprise-B!"

Picard said that history considered him dead. His friends considered him dead.

Spock considered him dead.

Spock would have been without him for all those years...if he could have them back.... But Picard shook his head.

"I can't tell what consequences that would have," Picard said with audible regret. "I come from a time where you disappeared on the Enterprise-B. I don't know what would happen to have that changed, and it would still leave me with my problem."

"Maybe your problem won't even exist if I go back!" Jim pointed out, getting excited. If he could get all those years back... "You said eighty years -- that's eighty years I've lost! It's all well and good when we stop this Soran, but what happens to me then?"

Picard closed his eyes. "I don't know," he replied. "All I know is at this moment, Dr. Soran is threatening an entire solar system, and I can't let that happen. I need you to come back with me. The Federation has changed, but it should not be completely unrecognizable."

But Jim knew, with a sense of rising anxiety, it would be. His friends...they'd been getting older when the Enterprise-A was decommissioned. Add another eighty years...

Vulcans lived longer than humans...but he was almost afraid to ask about Spock. Spock had to either be dead or bonded to someone else. Jim didn't know he could live in a universe where everyone he loved was dead and the other half of his soul was bound to another.

For a brief moment, Jim wanted to stay in the Nexus. He felt a terrible longing for home. The ground beneath his feet shifted to the steel of a starship floor, the open air changing around him to the walls and consoles of his truest home. The bridge of the Enterprise.

"Captain Kirk," Picard began from behind Jim, but Jim ignored him. He walked to the science station and put his hand on the back of the chair as he'd done so many times before.

And just like he had in almost all of those times, its occupant turned to face him. Spock of their time on the Enterprise-A, with wrinkles on his face and the waistline that had expanded as he'd gotten older. Jim had never liked his own weight gain as he aged, but he had never objected to Spock's, just as Spock had never objected to his.

"Is there something you require, Captain?" Spock asked. His tone was a subtle tease, a reminder of all the times Jim had stood by his station with a flimsy pretext just to flirt with him.

The tone was right, but the eyes were not. They were still that beloved warm brown, but somehow...empty. Not without life, but still without Spock, without the true essence of his bondmate.

Jim looked around the bridge, no longer quite as perfect as it had first appeared. The science console and the tactical station had instruments from the original Enterprise, not the refitted Enterprise. The communications array looked as it should be, but helm and navigation were a mix of both.

The engines purred beneath his feet in a mix of warp three and warp four. The stars streaming past the viewer were the stars of warp one.

Maybe in the Nexus the illusion was only as good as the depth of your belief. Because Jim knew it wasn't real, it reflected his expectations.

He couldn't stay.

But to go with Picard, who needed him? If he went, those eighty years would be completely gone.

If he tried going back to the Enterprise-B, he might get his life back, but what would it do to the history Picard knew? He was only one man, a speck of dust in an infinite universe, but he knew how much difference one man could make. What he didn't know was how much difference one man would make.

And even if Spock had bonded to someone else, at least he would be the real Spock.

"All right," Jim finally said. "I'll go with you. But are you sure the best time to stop Soran would be right before he implodes this star? If we can go back to any time and place, why not go back long enough that the destruction of an entire system is no longer quite so imminent?"

Picard looked taken aback. "I hadn't thought of that."

Jim wanted to roll his eyes, but he was still diplomatic enough to refrain. And he knew how one could focus on a disaster's immediate cause and forget about the preceding events. "Do you know a better time for stopping him?"

"Yes," Picard agreed slowly. "He was on my ship once, not long before we discovered his plan. We could go back to that time, and stop him before he implodes the Amargosa star."

Kirk nodded and smiled tightly. Once he left, his path would be set. No going back.

"Let's go."

--

The first thing that struck Jim was pain. Horrifying, nearly debilitating pain.

A pain he knew, though it had been eight years since he'd felt it. It was the pain of a broken bond.

He immediately thought of Spock. Vulcans lived longer than humans, true, but Spock could still have died in the intervening years.

The very thought was almost enough to make him lay down and wish for the Nexus again, or for the hole in his mind to swallow the rest of him. Almost.

But, no. Spock was still alive -- he knew that. The mental wire that linked them as Vulcan bondmates was broken. It lashed against his mind, but Spock was the other half of him. The Vulcan mental bond could be broken, but nothing could destroy the bond between their souls, not even death. And somehow, his soul knew that Spock was still alive.

The pain didn't stop, but Jim could resist it. He'd been in pain before.

Duty got him here. He still had that, at least. There would be time enough to deal with the pain after dealing with this Soran.

Jim blinked, finally aware of his surroundings. Was this...was this a bar on the Enterprise?

His Enterprise never had a bar.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Picard hovered close to him. Around him the crew of the Enterprise mingled, some of them glancing towards the two of them.

Some were also starting to stare, more at Jim than Picard. Time to get this over with.

"It's an adjustment. And call me Jim. Apparently it's been eighty years since I was a captain."

"It's still a courtesy title," Picard replied, with a distinct lack of Jim's name. Jim mentally sighed. Respect was great, but it was very hard to make friends with people who wouldn't call him by his actual name. "Soran is by the window. Will you keep an eye on him while I discreetly call Security?"

"Of course," Jim said. He moved closer to the shadows in the room, away from the interested eyes of the crew, but still kept Soran in his line of vision. At least Soran was distinctive, the only one apart from Jim and the bartender not wearing a Starfleet uniform. The uniforms had changed yet again, but were still very clearly uniforms rather than casual civilian dress.

Soran seemed very impatient. He constantly tapped his fingers against the tabletop.

"All right," Picard said, rejoining Kirk. "You hang back," he ordered someone behind him. "Captain Kirk and I will confront him and then you will take him into custody."

"Captain Kirk? Sir--" a deep voice protested, and Jim turned around to see--

--A Klingon.

In a Starfleet uniform.

"What?" Jim said blankly. He was gaping. He knew it. He also found it difficult to stop.

Klingons in Starfleet? A peace treaty was one thing, but this was a level of integration he never would have expected.

The Klingon looked equally surprised to see him. Actually, he looked rather familiar. A lot like the Klingon who had defended Jim and McCoy during their trial on Qo'noS what seemed like mere months ago. "You cannot be Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk died eighty years ago!" he protested.

He didn't speak too loudly, but his voice still carried. Whispers began crossing the room, and Dr. Soran looked up and straight at Jim.

"Damn," Picard cursed softly. "Stay back until I call you, Mr. Worf. Come, Captain."

Even as he followed Picard to Soran's window table, he couldn't resist a glance back at the motionless Klingon.

A Klingon in Starfleet.... Well, the future certainly wasn't boring.

"Dr. Soran?" Picard said upon reaching the table. Jim hung back a little, willing to follow Picard's lead.

"Yes, yes, Captain, thank you for coming," Soran replied. "Something strange seems to have just happened, Captain. What was that about Captain Kirk?"

"I'm right here," Jim added, coming forward. At Picard's gesture, he also took a seat at the table.

Soran looked at him. "Captain Kirk is dead," he said. Jim was already getting tired of that. "You certainly look remarkably like him, though."

"That's the thing, Dr. Soran," Jim replied, steepling his fingers. "I wasn't actually dead."

Soran shook his head. "This is not funny, Captain Picard," he said sharply. "I came here to ask to be let back to my work, not to be inexplicably paraded with some sort of actor playing a long-dead Starfleet officer."

"Ah yes, your work," Picard said, leaning forward. "I know all about your work. This is why Captain Kirk's presence here is relevant."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Are you interested in knowing how is it I'm not dead?" Jim asked. He glanced at Soran, then looked away into the stars. He'd missed this view. "As it happens, I haven't even been in this universe for the pasty eighty years. During the hull breach on the Enterprise-B, I was sucked into another one." He turned his attention back to Soran and watched him closely. "A universe called the Nexus."

"And you might be interested," Picard came in saying, "in knowing how Captain Kirk managed to come back into this universe and why we are both talking to you now."

Soran fell silent. After a moment, Picard continued talking. "Dr. Soran, this is not the first time I sat down at this table to speak with you. The first time I had, however, I did not know your plans for the Amargosa star -- or the star in the Veridian system."

"You do know, then," Soran said. Jim thought he could hear an undertone of anger, but if it really existed, Soran masked the emotion well. "And you know what I want."

Jim leaned forward. "It's not worth it," he told Soran softly. He looked at the stars again, and then around at the crew. They weren't listening in on their captain's conversation, but they knew something was happening. They stayed alert and ready for action.

Even the bartender had come out from behind the bar to watch the three of them at their table.

"You know nothing," Soran spat, his eyes hot on Jim.

"I was there too," Jim reminded him. "Captain Picard told me for eighty years. That's eighty years of my life I lost to that thing."

"Lost!" Soran laughed darkly. "I begin to think you weren't there at all."

"I was happy there," Jim informed him softly. He kept his eyes on the stars. "Of course I was. My life was peaceful, and I had a beautiful woman who loved me. But it wasn't my life, Soran. Now I'm out, I can think back to Antonia and remember that here, in the real world, she was just a woman I met visiting my uncle once. I thought her beautiful and kind, but that was all. The Nexus manufactured everything else."

"But you were happy! What did it matter if it wasn't real? You could have been happy forever!"

Jim's fingers twisted tighter around each other. "I need more in my life than just happiness," he said, "especially if it doesn't come from me. The Nexus couldn't even replicate the people who meant the most to me."

"Oh, that's all well and good for you," Soran hissed. "The great James Kirk. How many times have you saved your home planet? Mine was gone, Captain Kirk. My family was dead. The Borg killed them all."

The Borg? Jim glanced at Picard, who shook his head slightly. Well, he'd get an explanation later. "But your life wasn't over, Soran," he continued. "You aren't the only one who's ever lost something. It's difficult to rebuild, but it's not impossible."

Soran crossed his arms. "I've heard this all before, Kirk," he said. He sounded tired now, but still determined. "Enough of my fellow refugees have told me the same thing. But it doesn't matter."

"It does," Jim insisted. "You don't have to do this."

"I was right before. You really don't know." With that he dove around Jim, rolling and springing up again before starting to run.

"Worf!" Picard ordered and Worf stepped in front of Soran. Soran was quick, but Worf had positioned himself perfectly. He was also strong enough to keep Soran immobilized.

"Take him to the brig, then report to the observation lounge," Picard continued. "There is...quite an interesting debriefing ahead. Guinan, if you'll come as well?"

He turned to face the bartender, who nodded, but kept her eyes on Jim. Jim felt a strange prickle along his spine, and suddenly he knew she'd been in the Nexus, and on the Enterprise-B.

--

"So this is really Captain James Kirk?" asked the first officer, a man introduced as Commander William Riker, after Picard wound his story to a close.

"Yes," Picard affirmed. Jim didn't reply.

The confrontation was over. Jim knew he should be here and answer questions, since he remained the only existing proof of Picard's story, but it was hard to focus on the conversation.

His head throbbed, the broken bond like a fraying wire with ends dugging into him. The emptiness beyond the bond was even worse. And he felt so tired, almost enervated.

"He's in pain," one of the women said. Jim focused on her. She'd been introduced as Deanna Troi, ship's counselor. Her eyes were black, and Jim realized she was Betazoid. Of course she could feel his broken bond.

"From what?" asked the other woman, Dr. Beverly Crusher.

Jim finally spoke. "Nothing you can help with," he told her. "It's mental."

"Is it a reaction to leaving the Nexus?" Picard asked. He sounded worried. Jim was touched. Jim had really caused a lot of trouble for Picard, even if he'd also helped. "I'm not in pain, but I wasn't there anywhere near as long."

Dr. Crusher moved closer and waved the familiar medical scanner over him, but he brushed it aside. "I know what it is," he said, "and it's not important right now. Is there anything else you need from me?"

The room was silent for a moment. "Is there anywhere in particular you would like us to take you?" Picard finally asked. "There aren't many people we could call. We could try to get through to Ambassador Spock on Romulus--"

"Spock is alive?" Jim interrupted, his voice harsh with relief and other suppressed emotions. Spock -- Ambassador Spock now -- was alive. He'd still felt Spock's soul, but he breathed an internal sigh of relief to hear it confirmed, even as it led to questions he now had time to ask.

What broke the bond? Was it just being torn between universes? Jim conceded that probably would be enough.

He let out a breath and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Spock was alive. Alive, and...on Romulus.

"Romulus?" he asked, before anyone could confirm his first question. "Is the Federation at peace with them too now?"

"No," the Klingon, Worf, said shortly. "The Romulans--"

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander Worf," Picard interrupted. "Ambassador Spock has been attempting to unify the Vulcans and Romulans for the past three years, on the basis of their shared ancestry. They have finally allowed him to live there openly, though it is unknown what other progress he has been making."

Romulus. Of all the places...

Even for having been out of the loop for eighty years, this was a lot to absorb. The way his broken bond throbbed stronger at the mention of Spock didn't help.

"Captain Montgomery Scott is also alive," the chief engineer, Geordi LaForge, added. "He had to put himself into stasis a few years after your disappearance. We found him a couple years ago."

A small smile flitted across Jim's face. At least Scotty was still around and would understand what Jim felt.

But he still needed to know about Spock.

"Can you get a connection to him?" Jim asked. "Spock, I mean."

"I cannot guarantee that Romulus will accept a communication from the Enterprise," Picard said. "But I will do everything in my power to contact Ambassador Spock for you, Captain."

"Even if you have to take me there yourself?"

Picard met his eyes. "Hopefully it will not come to that, but yes. Even if I have to take you there myself."

Jim nodded. He'd already become acquainted with Picard's determination, and Picard wouldn't be the captain of the flagship with a loyal crew if he weren't also a man of his word.

"What about Soran?" Jim asked. "The crimes you witnessed have now happened in a future that won't exist. What can we do with him?"

"He still stole trilithium from the Romulans and has been conspiring with the Duras sisters to destroy several star systems," Worf growled with an undertone of controlled anger. "He will not go free."

"But that won't fix his problem," Guinan said, speaking for the first time. "He wants to get back to the Nexus. If he hasn't stopped before now, not even this is going to make him stop trying. And he's El-Aurian. He has centuries left to keep trying to get back."

"Soran's fate is not for us to decide," Picard said, ending the debate. "We will turn him over to the courts. That's all we can do."

Jim wouldn't have minded sending him through a hull breach straight into the Nexus, but he knew he had no authority here. This wasn't his ship. Picard was the captain of the Enterprise now.

Picard dismissed them soon after. On her way out, Guinan put a hand on his shoulder. "Come to Ten Forward before you leave," she told him. "I'd like to hear about your experiences, if you're willing to share them. For now, though, I think there's someone else who can give you better help."

She gestured her head towards Deanna Troi, who had also hung back as everyone else left. "I might be able to help with your pain, Captain," she said. "It's a broken telepathic bond, isn't it?"

Jim leaned back in his seat. "How did you know?"

"I'm only half-Betazoid," she said, "and my empathic skills are much greater than my telepathic. Still, I know what a bond feels like. I won't be able to heal yours entirely since it's not Betazoid, but I should be able to block the pain until you can find a Vulcan healer."

A corner of his mouth twitched up. "Does your empathy tell you that, or did you already know?"

"I sensed your strong emotions at the mention of Ambassador Spock. History also records the two of you as being very close. He followed you throughout your career and you retired when he did. I guessed."

"Good guess."

She looked at him with calm black eyes, and he resisted the urge to look away. He never had been fond of seeing his own ship's counselor, even when Bones insisted on it. He didn't like exposing his pain for anyone else to see.

But Troi was an empath, and the shields Spock had taught him were shot thanks to the chaos of the broken bond. He couldn't exactly hide it from her.

"Well, do what you can. I don't want to be in pain until I can get to Vulcan."

"I don't think it would take that long," she said, and she moved closer. She put her hands to his face, on nearly the same meld points Vulcans used, but her mental touch was nothing like the Vulcan mind meld. It was only a touch, the feel of a cooling breeze, rather than a merging.

The breeze against the bond felt like wind did on a hot day -- so refreshing that for a moment he could forget the heat. But the wind stayed longer than just a moment, and Jim soon realized that it was creating a barrier, of sorts, between the frayed ends of the bond and the rest of his mind. Even when Troi removed her hands, the barrier stayed.

"Thank you," he said when she finished, and she smiled at him.

"I'll take you to guest quarters," she said, "and set you up with access to the history banks."

"That would probably be useful," he agreed.

When she'd shown him to his quarters, he shook his head at the size. The captain's quarters on his first Enterprise, before the refit, could probably fit into just the living room here. He'd even seen children on his way through the halls.

This Enterprise was undeniably comfortable and sophisticated, but he felt a pang of sharp homesickness for his own sleek lady.

"Would you like to talk further with me?" Troi asked as she watched him look through the rooms. "I may not be able to help in as concrete a way as with your bond, but this whole experience must be quite a shock to you."

He barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. "That's one way of putting it," he said. He almost said he would be fine by himself, but he stopped before he could.

Yes, she was a counselor, and this was her job, rather than the act of a friend. But he had no one else right now, not even Spock's presence in his mind.

He was stuck in this century now. The least he could do was try to make friends.

He sat down in a chair and gestured for her to sit down as well. She sat, still watching him.

"Spock is married again, isn't he." It wasn't a question. Spock had to be with someone, or pon farr would have long since killed him.

"Yes," Troi said. "He is married to Admiral Saavik, though their duties do not permit them to spend much time together. I do not know if that is their preference."

Jim closed his eyes. Saavik. So she was an admiral now? Good for her.

He felt torn between bitter jealousy and great relief. He was of course grateful Spock still lived, and moreover that he hadn't spent all those decades alone. Jim had always known Spock would outlive him, and he never would have wanted Spock to spend the rest of his life unhappy.

But it was one thing to know Saavik had assuaged his pon farr on the Genesis planet, once, when he hadn't even had his katra and surging hormones inspired by too-rapid growth had nearly torn his body apart. It was another thing to know Saavik had married him, had likely been married to him longer than Jim had.

And he had no idea how Spock felt. He only knew they didn't spend much time together. Even if he loved Jim more than he loved Saavik, he wouldn't necessarily be willing to -- to divorce Saavik and bond with Jim again.

"Talk to me, Captain," Troi said softly. "I can feel your mixed emotions, but I can't do anything unless you talk to me."

"Call me Jim," he said. "I'm not a captain anymore. I retired from Starfleet eighty years ago, remember?"

"But you are still a captain, aren't you?" she said. "It's a courtesy title even for retired officers, but it's more than that, for you. You were very attached to your captaincy."

"I made a difference there," he replied, looking down at his hands. "I wasn't at my desk all day, like after they promoted me. I could actually do something."

"Is being able to see the results very important to you, then? You have to know you made a difference as an admiral, even if you couldn't see that directly."

Jim shook his head, though not in negation. "I'm more useful as a captain. I won't say anyone could have done my job as Chief of Operations, but I always felt Starfleet and I were both better off with me in the captain's chair."

"But you're retired now, and even if you weren't, you're eighty years behind," she pointed out. As if he didn't already know that. "And it's a different galaxy now, Jim. Do you think you would still be most useful in the captain's chair?"

He rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe. Maybe not. But you're right. I don't think I'll be joining Starfleet again."

"Did you have plans for your retirement?"

He huffed out another laugh, though this one was somewhat lighter. "I'd planned to spend time with Spock a red alert couldn't break. I'd planned to put him first for the rest of my life -- or at least, to do put him first without feeling guilty. Beyond that, no, I didn't really have any plans."

"Maybe that's where you want to start," Troi advised. "We can get you more information about the twenty-fourth century. What you need to do is decide how you want to live here, and how much you can tie to Spock."

Jim nodded, because he knew that. He had to build a life, and making plans was a good place to start, something to keep him busy.

But he knew he needed, and would always need, Spock more than anything else.

--

Chapter Three