De was sat in the corner of the room, away from most of the people, alone, after finally persuading Bill and Len that he would be fine, they could go and talk to someone else, yes, he would be ok here just sitting and watching, please just go and enjoy yourselves, I'll be fine.
He was, more or less, now that he was just sitting here, silently watching, nursing the drink that Bill had brought over for him. Fine. Doing fine. Just sitting there. Watching. Everything was fine. Bill and Len were here and could enjoy themselves. He just had to get through this, so that they could enjoy themselves. De was feeling guilty enough about all the worry he had caused them over the last few days.
DeForest was sitting in the corner. Jim only knew that he'd had trouble adjusting, that he was back from the dead and missed his wife and that he didn't have the sort of things going on which made Bill's and Len's experience very different. He wasn't sure if the man would take to talking to Bill's doppelganger, but Jim knew he was pretty good with people. He'd asked the others what De might like to drink, and had picked up a few pieces of fruit and some pastries to put on a plate and take over.
He sat next to him, casually, as if taking his own break from his hosting duties, and sighed, sipping his own drink. Then he looked at his plate of food, glanced over at De, and offered it.
De's stomach had clenched tightly as he noticed...well...it wasn't Bill, so it had to be Kirk, Jim Kirk coming over to him. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, reassuring himself that he was alright, that he could do this, he was fine. Nothing was going to happen, he was just going to sit down and talk.
To someone who looked like Bill and who he had thought was fictional.
No. No point dwelling on that. The man who had taken a seat next to him was clearly not fictional, he was very real, and very alive.
And just a little unnerving.
It took De a moment or two before he collected himself enough to answer the question. Looking down at the plate (in doing so, perhaps trying to avoid looking at Jim too much...that was just. Confusing) he shook his head. "Not really." He swallowed. Make an effort. Make conversation. "I don't get very hungry these days." That would do, wouldn't it? It was a start, at least.
Jim nodded, as if it was quite adequate conversation.
"Sometimes, coming off a mission, all I want to do is eat. The sort of stuff Bones wishes he could tell the galley not to send me. And then sometimes I think I'll never even look at food again."
Edith. The time he was split in two. The times when he let people die. He knew he disturbed De. He didn't think that should chase him away. De... needed someone. He had Bill and Len. And they were good friends. But Jim couldn't help but try.
De faltered, he wasn't quite sure what to say next. What did you say to someone who had lived through everything that you had thought was fictional? De was very very unclear as to how proceed. He was also, for now, ignoring the mention of Bones, as that made him feel...really quite apprehensive.
There was a bit of an awkward silence, then, really.
"Thank you. I mean. For. Inviting us. Bill and Len...well. They'll enjoy it." It didn't come out as coherently as De had hoped...
Jim, belatedly, sensed his misstep. How was he supposed to proceed, short of leaving De alone? And that was just denying the facts, the reality that the man now was living.
"You're welcome. I'm sure they will. I'm glad you came, too. I've been wanting a chance to properly welcome you, and express my regret that you, too, have been caught up in all of this. It's a lot to adjust to, for anyone. I hope you'll let me know, if there's anything I can do."
De finally turned to look up at the man who looked so like Bill, and tried to smile. It probably didn't look much like a smile, but it was something, an effort at least.
Up close, he looked even more like Bill, somehow. De forced himself not to react adversely to the face in front of him.
More conversation. Yes, that was the way forward. Reply. Keep talking.
"Oh, thank you. I will," De said, politely, schooling his features to as calm as he could manage. A pause, another small silence, not quite as awkward as the last. "De. De Kelley." De broke the silence. "But I expect you knew that already..."
"Jim Kirk," he said, "but you knew that even better."
He smiled gently.
"I know this is strange. I'm not sure whether it would be easier for you to assume you know me, or for us to start over, but I'd like to be your friend. If you want."
"No, s'alright. Yes. Weird, but. I'm here." De sighed, a sigh that hid a multitude of feelings that came with being here, on the ship, miles and years from home...even though, that wasn't really home anymore, was it? De wasn't at all sure where he belonged, but right now, belonging near Bill and Len was all he had, and he would do anything for that. Including this. All of that, hidden behind one small sigh.
"And if I'm here...should start meeting people at some point..."
"I'm stranded here, too," he said. "Not as far as you, certainly. I'm still on a ship, still in your future--my past, a little--but everything's different. Another Jim, another Spock, another everyone. But I have my Spock, my Bones. And I've never needed them more."
"Same with Bill and Len...except..well..." De tailed off, once again unsure how to proceed, not knowing exactly what Jim and Spock and Bones were to each other here, other than what he'd vaguely picked up off listening to Bill and Len.
He tried again. "Never needed them more...really." He went a bit quiet, starting to feel a bit guilty again.
"And they need you," Jim said gently, placing a hand lightly on De's arm. "This place does something to a person. Maybe it... makes them seek connections they hadn't anticipated before, but that doesn't make them any less real. Or the old ones any less important. We all need all the comfort we can get, don't we? You should hear the way they talk about you."
De nodded somewhat absentmindly. He still didn't fully believe what Kirk, or what Len and Bill had said to him, there was still a nugget of insecurity deep within him that told him that he wasn't needed, and wasn't wanted, especially now that Bill and Len had each other more than ever before...and with all these new people to talk to, surelyDe's mind taunted him surely they won't need you. You can't even interact properly at a party, just sat here, hardly able to make conversation with just one person...they won't need you, you know, they won't..
De had glazed over a bit, staring at the floor as he tried to control his reactions to his mind's voice. He looked up suddenly at Kirk, something akin to apology in his eyes. "M'sorry," he said, quietly, "I'm not really very good company at the moment." There was a pause. "I'll understand if you'd rather talk to someone more interesting. You don't have to sit here with me. I'll be fine. Watching. Y'know."
"Don't be sorry," Jim said easily. "You ever hosted a party you weren't really in the mood for? Maybe you're a good excuse for me to duck out, for a few minutes. No one can blame me for being solicitous, and I get a quiet moment." The warmth of his voice said very clearly that De was not an excuse at all. "I like Bill and Len very much," he said quietly. "I like what I know of you, from when we talked on that network. I'm quite aware I don't have to do anything."
He was, more or less, now that he was just sitting here, silently watching, nursing the drink that Bill had brought over for him. Fine. Doing fine. Just sitting there. Watching. Everything was fine. Bill and Len were here and could enjoy themselves. He just had to get through this, so that they could enjoy themselves. De was feeling guilty enough about all the worry he had caused them over the last few days.
So, yes. He was fine. Sitting there. Fine.
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He sat next to him, casually, as if taking his own break from his hosting duties, and sighed, sipping his own drink. Then he looked at his plate of food, glanced over at De, and offered it.
"I took too much, I think," he said. "Hungry?"
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To someone who looked like Bill and who he had thought was fictional.
No. No point dwelling on that. The man who had taken a seat next to him was clearly not fictional, he was very real, and very alive.
And just a little unnerving.
It took De a moment or two before he collected himself enough to answer the question. Looking down at the plate (in doing so, perhaps trying to avoid looking at Jim too much...that was just. Confusing) he shook his head. "Not really." He swallowed. Make an effort. Make conversation. "I don't get very hungry these days." That would do, wouldn't it? It was a start, at least.
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"Sometimes, coming off a mission, all I want to do is eat. The sort of stuff Bones wishes he could tell the galley not to send me. And then sometimes I think I'll never even look at food again."
Edith. The time he was split in two. The times when he let people die. He knew he disturbed De. He didn't think that should chase him away. De... needed someone. He had Bill and Len. And they were good friends. But Jim couldn't help but try.
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There was a bit of an awkward silence, then, really.
"Thank you. I mean. For. Inviting us. Bill and Len...well. They'll enjoy it." It didn't come out as coherently as De had hoped...
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"You're welcome. I'm sure they will. I'm glad you came, too. I've been wanting a chance to properly welcome you, and express my regret that you, too, have been caught up in all of this. It's a lot to adjust to, for anyone. I hope you'll let me know, if there's anything I can do."
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Up close, he looked even more like Bill, somehow. De forced himself not to react adversely to the face in front of him.
More conversation. Yes, that was the way forward. Reply. Keep talking.
"Oh, thank you. I will," De said, politely, schooling his features to as calm as he could manage. A pause, another small silence, not quite as awkward as the last. "De. De Kelley." De broke the silence. "But I expect you knew that already..."
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He smiled gently.
"I know this is strange. I'm not sure whether it would be easier for you to assume you know me, or for us to start over, but I'd like to be your friend. If you want."
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"Prob'ly best to start over. Not quite sure where you end and Bill begins..."
This wasn't so hard, really. Just...just got to keep going.
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"Of course, if this is just too weird, I'll understand that, too," he said. "But maybe it would be interesting. To find out."
Overall, Jim was trying to project the truth that he would be all right with whatever De decided. That he didn't judge.
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"And if I'm here...should start meeting people at some point..."
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"I'm stranded here, too," he said. "Not as far as you, certainly. I'm still on a ship, still in your future--my past, a little--but everything's different. Another Jim, another Spock, another everyone. But I have my Spock, my Bones. And I've never needed them more."
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He tried again. "Never needed them more...really." He went a bit quiet, starting to feel a bit guilty again.
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De had glazed over a bit, staring at the floor as he tried to control his reactions to his mind's voice. He looked up suddenly at Kirk, something akin to apology in his eyes. "M'sorry," he said, quietly, "I'm not really very good company at the moment." There was a pause. "I'll understand if you'd rather talk to someone more interesting. You don't have to sit here with me. I'll be fine. Watching. Y'know."
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