A Study In Red(ding) - Nobody's Fault But Mine
Title: Nobody's Fault But Mine
Pairings: Kirk/ Gaila with background Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: ~1500
Summary: Where there's a whole lot of guilt.
Disclaimer: Well, of course I don't own the characters of Star Trek....or Otis Redding.
Related Stories: ** Masterpost**
Notes: The fic today is a bit mournful, but I so loved writing it, plus it's Jim POV (woohoo). Based on 'Nobody's Fault But Mine', Jim is feeling plenty of regret for what he did to Gaila. I love Gaila's character in the film, she's just so cheerful, you kind of lose sight of the fact that she's an Orion and probably had a very difficult past. How did she get away from the Syndicate? I'd love to know.
I forgot to mention in 'Amen' that I was taking liberties with the fact that Abrams verse hasn't quite smoothed out all of the backgrounds of the characters, so I altered Bones' story a little bit. Because I can. Also, I've noticed that LJ likes to mess up my format every now and then, so some of the fics are wonky. I'll fix it soon.
The memorial services are long and emotionally exhausting. A never ending roll-call of classmates and friends that drives home the devastating extent to the losses suffered by everyone.
Jim doesn’t manage to make all of them, having to miss one or two for debriefings with Pike and meetings with Doctor Simmons, the psychiatrist that Jim was assigned to after a bitter comment to Admiral Komack that gets taken seriously. But he is determined to attend the memorial for the Farragut and cancels an appointment with Simmons to get there.
As everyone is taking their place he slips in next to Uhura, who gives him a small, fragile smile, he eyes soft and sad. She takes his hand and he squeezes it gently. Spock is with the other officers and they exchange nods over the heads of cadets. His expression doesn’t betray him, but Jim knows that the Vulcan is grateful that someone is there to comfort his grieving loved-one.
Uhura’s thumb brushes over the back of his hand when the ceremony begins and a sudden rush of nauseating guilt pushes through him. He closes his eyes, clenches his teeth. Because Uhura doesn’t know what he did, how he hurt her best friend.
_
He hadn’t chosen Gaila, didn’t purposefully seek her out because of her position at Starfleet. She was beautiful, she was an Orion and she wanted Jim.
And Jim wanted her right back, so it all evened out into a win-win situation.
They had crossed paths for the first time two days after he had kissed Bones and consequently been avoided, so he was feeling rejected and hurt and ready to forget about it.
She had approached him in Collin’s, confident and straight-forward (“hi, I’m Gaila”), wearing a short, tight, black and gold dress. Her hair pinned back at the sides and left to tumble down her back.
By the end of the night, the dress was is a pile by the door to her rooms, the majority of the pins in her hair had fallen out and been lost. Gaila had smoothed a hot hand down his side, made a pleased sound and told him “I should like to do this again with you soon”. She hadn’t meant ‘tonight’, but Jim felt that it was open for him to interpret in anyway that he liked.
And they both liked the interpretation that he chose.
After that they came together often, not dating and definitely not exclusive, but something close to it, and Jim quickly discovered something new. Orions talk in their sleep.
The first night that he heard her, he was amused, listening for half an hour to jumbled nonsense and one-sided conversations, mostly in Orion Prime with the occasional snatches of Standard thrown in.
The third time he decided to join in, softly asking Gaila a question to which she responded, half of the reply disjointed and way out there, but it was a response none the less and he started to have conversations with her from then on.
On the sixth night, he was debating whether to record their exchanges to show her the next morning, when he distinctly heard her mumble “Maru...” and consequently learned of her role in the running of the simulation as a technician.
Soon after that he began to plan, spending a lot of time in the library researching, and getting as many nights with Gaila in as he could, started taking notes, steering the conversations, drafting sequences of code. Never once was she made aware of any of it.
Gaila had been so pleased by his sharp increase in interest in her, letting him in with a big smile on the nights that her roommate was out, and that she wasn’t spending with other partners. Usually they slept in Jim’s bed, Gary being more of a night owl who slept little and therefore less inclined to come back to the room until gone midnight.
On the night before he was scheduled to resit the test for the third time, Gaila had said “I think I love you”, and the extent to which his manipulation was affecting her struck home. But he had come too far to back out now and it wasn’t like his actions were going to ruin her academic career. She hadn’t knowingly told him anything, she had plausible deniability.
Their relationship would probably be ruined if she wasn’t suitably impressed by his genius, but Gaila would most likely forgive him before the end of term and all will be well.
Jim just really needed to beat this test, he needed to prove to everyone that it could be done, that they were all wrong. Because there was no such thing as a no-win scenario, just people who gave up too easily. He would show them.
Maybe they’d be so impressed he’d be made Valedictorian.
It was this thought that got him through the disappointment of being kicked out by Gaila’s roommate (Uhura, who knew?) and missing out on a few lost details. It didn’t matter, he had everything that he needed to put together the final pieces. The certainty that tomorrow was going to be spectacular put a smug smile on his face as he attached the subroutine to a message for Gaila (‘I’m sorry.’) that was programmed to send at 0300 hours, just as the test was starting.
The image of her honest smile was pushed back to the recesses of his mind, overlaid by his glee as Warbirds explode and expressions turn disbelieving. None more so than Bones’, who he had begged to take part, wanting his best friend to witness Jim’s triumph.
Bones had run through irritation, to confusion, then shock and amazement and finally, as Jim had stepped up to face the invigilators, a smirk that had called out ‘well there you have it; Jim Kirk’. It made Jim want to punch the air and whoop and maybe even perform a victory dance or two, and he would have if it wouldn’t have ruined his cool.
The resulting high had lasted until he was called forward at the assembly and stood before the unimpressed faces of the admiralty. Then he caught a glimpse of Gaila, crossed legs and arms and hurt and the guilt had finally come crawling in.
_
There had been no opportunity to apologise for using her, no chance to make things right, or as right as he could get them, once the distress call had arrived.
Then it was a terrifying mess of lightning storms in space, plasma drills and the eyes of a tattooed madman.
Jim didn’t know where Gaila had been assigned, found it hard to think about too closely when there was still so much to focus upon. Vulcan was gone, Nero had left; most likely gunning for Earth.
He was leaving sickbay, massaging his freshly treated hand, when he had seen her (green skin, soft red curls) and he had been so damn hopeful and so fucking sorry that he had started to just let it out.
It wasn’t Gaila.
He played it off easily, desperately covering the despair that, deep down, he knew that she wasn’t on the Enterprise.
When it was all over and the crew was dragging the Enterprise back to Earth, Jim had found Bones, sitting silently in Puri’s office, and wetly confessed how much he had hurt her and how it was all his fault and how he would never get to right this wrong.
Bones had listened through it all, not once saying ‘it’ll be alright, Jim’ or ‘maybe she’s still alive’ or anything else hollow just to ease the crush of guilt. Just letting Jim talk and rest his weary head against Bones’ shoulder.
It was amazing how much Bones would let him unload, how many of Jim’s burdens and secrets he would wordlessly share, without wanting anything in return. He was such a giver, and how did Jim deserve him?
How could Jim ever get by without his strong presence there to keep him together?
When they read out Gaila’s name, Uhura’s hand clamps down on his so tightly and he almost can’t bear it, until stronger, larger, more familiar fingers are intertwining with the ones on his left hand. Bones’ fingers. And the pressure is lifted slightly.
Other names are being called.
Jim thinks about their kiss on his birthday. A gift to both of them; Jim for enduring another year and Bones for enduring Jim for another year.
He thinks about the clear want in Bones’ eyes and the way that his heart had hurdled away in his chest.
_
Gaila had mentioned once that he and Bones looked good together, “like earth and grass” she had said, “it would be so pleasing to watch you both.”
At the time he had brushed her words off, still raw about Bones’ spooked rejection.
But here and now, with Bones’ fingers grounding him. Being his ground. Jim starts to truly consider her message, the joy that her advice could bring. To Bones, to Jim and maybe even to Gaila, wherever she is now.
It’s what she would have wanted.