Fic: Because You Would Not Waste Forever
Title: Because You Would Not Waste Forever
Author: miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot!/Doom Crossover
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Jim Kirk/Bones McCoy, Reaper
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all...
Summary: “Only Ashes will appease our god.” They responded, forked tongues flickering out, as they ringed around him. “You are the Leader, you will choose the sacrifice. One of you.”....
A/N: The Writing still isnt happening as good as I would like, but this idea wasn't letting me be...
Because You Would Not Waste Forever
“Which of you is the Captain?”
Out of the three men in the cave only one of them raised his head, hands smoothing down the gold command shirt that caught the alien’s eyes at once. Their leader had said the Captain would wear gold; they were to bring the gold shirted one. As the man in gold stood, the slumped man in blue seemed to stir, almost waking before falling back into the dark unconsciousness.
“I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship Enterprise.” The man in gold said, eyes softening as he turned away from the unconscious man in blue, and the other one in red. “Who are you?”
“We are the Silthura.” The aliens, their skin the palest orange, told him, voices hissing over the s’s pronounced, “You trespassed on holy land.”
“We have come in Peace.” Kirk told them, eyes scanning their forms, “We did not mean to offend you, or trespass.”
“Only Ashes will appease our god.” They responded, forked tongues flickering out, as they ringed around him. “You are the Leader, you will choose the sacrifice. One of you.”
“Me.” The man said without even a flicker of hesitation. “Will my men get back to the ship safely?”
“We will contact your First Officer immediately.”
Kirk hesitated, but he had been briefed on the planet before beaming down. The Silthura were proud, and extremely honourable. To lie was the greatest offence someone could commit in their culture.
He nodded and did not move as he was struck down by a stone to the head. Folding unconscious to the floor, his last sight was of the man in blue, and the smile that touched his mouth was sad.
~*~
Leonard McCoy woke up in the medical bay with his head pounding, but his arm no longer burning with agony. So the arrow was gone, presumably the poison carried within it had been treated as well, although the blow to his head still ached. Then he frowned.
How the hell had he gotten a head wound? The memory was there, tantalising at the edges of his thoughts. But he could not grasp them, not yet.
Sitting up slowly he looked around, catching the attention of the upright Vulcan standing nearby.
“Doctor, it is most gratifying to see you recovered.” Spock said, hands clasped firmly behind his back. “We were most concerned when we retrieved you from Silthur.”
“Yeah it’s good to see you too Spock,” McCoy groaned, rubbing his head, trying to grasp those tendrils of thought once more. “How did you find us? Did everyone get out okay? Where’s Jim?”
“The Silthura contacted us, informing us of where to locate you.” Spock said his face unreadable. “They also informed us that you had committed a serious breach of etiquette by trespassing on holy land. But that the Captain had offered to cover the debt.”
“Cover the debt? What the hell does that even mean Spock?”
“The Silthura believe flame cleanses all.” Spock said, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows, “Sacred flame, to purify transgressions. They took the Captain, to scatter his ashes and appease their God.”
McCoy froze, his mind almost touching those threads of memory.
“They took Jim? To burn him? Spock! We can’t just leave him! Tell me you looked for him!”
Spock slowly shook his head.
“They believed they took the Captain. But they did not.”
It was like a slide clicking into place in McCoy’s mind. The soft voice rumbling, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me,’ before everything went black.
It was then that Jim walked in, still looking a little pale, and still wearing a red security shirt that hung off his frame a little too much. His blue eyes met McCoy’s and they were wet, wet with hidden tears. And McCoy knew.
“John. They took John.”
~*~
John Grimm had never asked to be special, had never wanted to be exceptional, or brilliant, or anything other than ordinary. He had wanted to live out his life near to his sister, love her children like he would love his own, wanted to marry and settle down, have a small house, maybe a dog.
He hadn’t wanted his parents to first move to Olduvai, and then die there, leaving him and Sam behind. He hadn’t wanted the cracks to widen between him and his twin until all they saw of each other was a yearly birthday card. He hadn’t wanted her to move to Olduvai to continue their parents work, and he definitely hadn’t wanted to not see her for ten years.
Being a soldier had been a way of rebelling, striking out against the parents and the sister who had left him. Being a jarhead, the antithesis of the logical scientist. But he hadn’t been able to escape Olduvai, or the destiny he had earned.
His sister had died at age ninety three, one hundred and fifty odd years ago. He had become immortal, with extra abilities, given through the chromosome Sam had injected him with. He hadn’t been there when she had died, had only heard about it a week later. He had spent two hundred years out in the black as a soldier of fortune, taking no one’s orders, bowing to no one.
Until he had come across James T Kirk in a pub on Starbase 12, while the Enterprise was there docked for repairs.
He had been hailed, as ‘Bones!’ and had been clapped on the shoulder by a handsome young man with golden hair and eyes that shone like the sky back home.
“Bones?”
“Me?”
“Yeah you, jeeze Bones how much have you drunk?”
Not that much, John Grimm had thought wryly, eyeing the man oddly.
“I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong guy. I’m John Grimm, Reaper in a push, not Bones.”
The young man’s face had registered surprise and then curiosity, and John had found himself bombarded with questions from a persistent young man with no concept of when to leave well enough alone.
And just like that, Jim Kirk had decided that John Grimm, soldier for hire ‘Reaper’, would be on his ship and join his crew.
It had been like a whirlwind, paperwork, transfers, orders and surprisingly not a single complaint from Starfleet command. “I thought they would chuck an absolute tantrum.” Jim had said brightly. John however had known better.
Starfleet had been trying to recruit him for decades. And now this ‘boy’ had managed it, they weren’t going to complain. But they did send a packet of orders to the Chief Medical Officer, this ‘Bones’ that Jim had mistaken him for. Find out everything you can about the 24th chromosome and if possible, replicate it.
He had met Bones, Leonard McCoy, who had looked very much like him. Although to John, he could see more green in the hazel eyes, eyes that were his sisters’. Watching McCoy was like watching Sam all those years ago, an experience that made his eyes sting, and longing fill him. He missed her, his sister, his twin.
So life had been good, even wearing Starfleet uniform and shedding his combat blacks for Security Reds.
But he hadn’t belonged, just like he hadn’t belonged anywhere since Samantha had died. And the feeling had only gotten worse after he had seen Jim and McCoy on the Observation deck.
The image, of McCoy standing, leaning, back into the solidly planted Jim Kirk, who held him firmly around his waist, protectively, was one that was irrevocably burnt onto his eyelids. The image spoke a thousand words, of McCoy’s anxiety at the space rushing past outside, of Kirk’s belief, of McCoy’s trust, of Kirk’s protectiveness, of McCoy’s love, of Kirk’s love.
John didn’t have that.
And watching them had made him realise just how alone he was.
Which was why when the aliens had closed in on them on Silthur, and he had heard the hissed words, ‘sacrifice’, ‘captain’ and ‘gold’, he couldn’t stand by.
How could he deny Sam’s grandson the love that he, John, would never feel?
He did not deny that it hurt, that every part of his body screamed aloud as the flames burnt him, as the smoke choked him. He did not deny that tears poured from his eyes, or that his mouth sobbed out names, the names of everyone he had lost, and then the names of those he had saved.
And as he died he felt the soft brush of his sister’s hair against his shoulder, felt Sarge’s warm hand on his arm, felt Duke’s smile.
“Time to come home.” He heard them whisper.
And he did.
~*~
Jim Kirk lay awake that night, arm wrapped snugly around Bones’s waist, as he always did. Perhaps tonight he clung a little tighter, but he did not think Bones objected.
His mind was running over everything, over John, over Silthur and the Silthura. And in particular it ran over the two small vials that John had left him in the safe in his room.
C-24.
One for him, one for Bones.
Wrapped around it was a small scrap of honest to god paper, and on it was written a small note, in a scrawled messy hand.
”Because you would not waste forever...”
“Jim...” Bones mumbled sleepily, “G’sleep.”
Smiling he pressed a kiss to Bones’s neck and closed his eyes. No, he and Bones would not waste forever, but forever could wait. Right now, he was happy as he was.
Author: miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot!/Doom Crossover
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Jim Kirk/Bones McCoy, Reaper
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all...
Summary: “Only Ashes will appease our god.” They responded, forked tongues flickering out, as they ringed around him. “You are the Leader, you will choose the sacrifice. One of you.”....
A/N: The Writing still isnt happening as good as I would like, but this idea wasn't letting me be...
Because You Would Not Waste Forever
“Which of you is the Captain?”
Out of the three men in the cave only one of them raised his head, hands smoothing down the gold command shirt that caught the alien’s eyes at once. Their leader had said the Captain would wear gold; they were to bring the gold shirted one. As the man in gold stood, the slumped man in blue seemed to stir, almost waking before falling back into the dark unconsciousness.
“I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship Enterprise.” The man in gold said, eyes softening as he turned away from the unconscious man in blue, and the other one in red. “Who are you?”
“We are the Silthura.” The aliens, their skin the palest orange, told him, voices hissing over the s’s pronounced, “You trespassed on holy land.”
“We have come in Peace.” Kirk told them, eyes scanning their forms, “We did not mean to offend you, or trespass.”
“Only Ashes will appease our god.” They responded, forked tongues flickering out, as they ringed around him. “You are the Leader, you will choose the sacrifice. One of you.”
“Me.” The man said without even a flicker of hesitation. “Will my men get back to the ship safely?”
“We will contact your First Officer immediately.”
Kirk hesitated, but he had been briefed on the planet before beaming down. The Silthura were proud, and extremely honourable. To lie was the greatest offence someone could commit in their culture.
He nodded and did not move as he was struck down by a stone to the head. Folding unconscious to the floor, his last sight was of the man in blue, and the smile that touched his mouth was sad.
~*~
Leonard McCoy woke up in the medical bay with his head pounding, but his arm no longer burning with agony. So the arrow was gone, presumably the poison carried within it had been treated as well, although the blow to his head still ached. Then he frowned.
How the hell had he gotten a head wound? The memory was there, tantalising at the edges of his thoughts. But he could not grasp them, not yet.
Sitting up slowly he looked around, catching the attention of the upright Vulcan standing nearby.
“Doctor, it is most gratifying to see you recovered.” Spock said, hands clasped firmly behind his back. “We were most concerned when we retrieved you from Silthur.”
“Yeah it’s good to see you too Spock,” McCoy groaned, rubbing his head, trying to grasp those tendrils of thought once more. “How did you find us? Did everyone get out okay? Where’s Jim?”
“The Silthura contacted us, informing us of where to locate you.” Spock said his face unreadable. “They also informed us that you had committed a serious breach of etiquette by trespassing on holy land. But that the Captain had offered to cover the debt.”
“Cover the debt? What the hell does that even mean Spock?”
“The Silthura believe flame cleanses all.” Spock said, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows, “Sacred flame, to purify transgressions. They took the Captain, to scatter his ashes and appease their God.”
McCoy froze, his mind almost touching those threads of memory.
“They took Jim? To burn him? Spock! We can’t just leave him! Tell me you looked for him!”
Spock slowly shook his head.
“They believed they took the Captain. But they did not.”
It was like a slide clicking into place in McCoy’s mind. The soft voice rumbling, ‘I’m sorry, forgive me,’ before everything went black.
It was then that Jim walked in, still looking a little pale, and still wearing a red security shirt that hung off his frame a little too much. His blue eyes met McCoy’s and they were wet, wet with hidden tears. And McCoy knew.
“John. They took John.”
~*~
John Grimm had never asked to be special, had never wanted to be exceptional, or brilliant, or anything other than ordinary. He had wanted to live out his life near to his sister, love her children like he would love his own, wanted to marry and settle down, have a small house, maybe a dog.
He hadn’t wanted his parents to first move to Olduvai, and then die there, leaving him and Sam behind. He hadn’t wanted the cracks to widen between him and his twin until all they saw of each other was a yearly birthday card. He hadn’t wanted her to move to Olduvai to continue their parents work, and he definitely hadn’t wanted to not see her for ten years.
Being a soldier had been a way of rebelling, striking out against the parents and the sister who had left him. Being a jarhead, the antithesis of the logical scientist. But he hadn’t been able to escape Olduvai, or the destiny he had earned.
His sister had died at age ninety three, one hundred and fifty odd years ago. He had become immortal, with extra abilities, given through the chromosome Sam had injected him with. He hadn’t been there when she had died, had only heard about it a week later. He had spent two hundred years out in the black as a soldier of fortune, taking no one’s orders, bowing to no one.
Until he had come across James T Kirk in a pub on Starbase 12, while the Enterprise was there docked for repairs.
He had been hailed, as ‘Bones!’ and had been clapped on the shoulder by a handsome young man with golden hair and eyes that shone like the sky back home.
“Bones?”
“Me?”
“Yeah you, jeeze Bones how much have you drunk?”
Not that much, John Grimm had thought wryly, eyeing the man oddly.
“I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong guy. I’m John Grimm, Reaper in a push, not Bones.”
The young man’s face had registered surprise and then curiosity, and John had found himself bombarded with questions from a persistent young man with no concept of when to leave well enough alone.
And just like that, Jim Kirk had decided that John Grimm, soldier for hire ‘Reaper’, would be on his ship and join his crew.
It had been like a whirlwind, paperwork, transfers, orders and surprisingly not a single complaint from Starfleet command. “I thought they would chuck an absolute tantrum.” Jim had said brightly. John however had known better.
Starfleet had been trying to recruit him for decades. And now this ‘boy’ had managed it, they weren’t going to complain. But they did send a packet of orders to the Chief Medical Officer, this ‘Bones’ that Jim had mistaken him for. Find out everything you can about the 24th chromosome and if possible, replicate it.
He had met Bones, Leonard McCoy, who had looked very much like him. Although to John, he could see more green in the hazel eyes, eyes that were his sisters’. Watching McCoy was like watching Sam all those years ago, an experience that made his eyes sting, and longing fill him. He missed her, his sister, his twin.
So life had been good, even wearing Starfleet uniform and shedding his combat blacks for Security Reds.
But he hadn’t belonged, just like he hadn’t belonged anywhere since Samantha had died. And the feeling had only gotten worse after he had seen Jim and McCoy on the Observation deck.
The image, of McCoy standing, leaning, back into the solidly planted Jim Kirk, who held him firmly around his waist, protectively, was one that was irrevocably burnt onto his eyelids. The image spoke a thousand words, of McCoy’s anxiety at the space rushing past outside, of Kirk’s belief, of McCoy’s trust, of Kirk’s protectiveness, of McCoy’s love, of Kirk’s love.
John didn’t have that.
And watching them had made him realise just how alone he was.
Which was why when the aliens had closed in on them on Silthur, and he had heard the hissed words, ‘sacrifice’, ‘captain’ and ‘gold’, he couldn’t stand by.
How could he deny Sam’s grandson the love that he, John, would never feel?
He did not deny that it hurt, that every part of his body screamed aloud as the flames burnt him, as the smoke choked him. He did not deny that tears poured from his eyes, or that his mouth sobbed out names, the names of everyone he had lost, and then the names of those he had saved.
And as he died he felt the soft brush of his sister’s hair against his shoulder, felt Sarge’s warm hand on his arm, felt Duke’s smile.
“Time to come home.” He heard them whisper.
And he did.
~*~
Jim Kirk lay awake that night, arm wrapped snugly around Bones’s waist, as he always did. Perhaps tonight he clung a little tighter, but he did not think Bones objected.
His mind was running over everything, over John, over Silthur and the Silthura. And in particular it ran over the two small vials that John had left him in the safe in his room.
C-24.
One for him, one for Bones.
Wrapped around it was a small scrap of honest to god paper, and on it was written a small note, in a scrawled messy hand.
”Because you would not waste forever...”
“Jim...” Bones mumbled sleepily, “G’sleep.”
Smiling he pressed a kiss to Bones’s neck and closed his eyes. No, he and Bones would not waste forever, but forever could wait. Right now, he was happy as he was.