| Chapter 12 Jim entered the sickbay and noticed the lights were at off-duty low. There was no hub of preparation going on. He walked to the back of sickbay where McCoy's private office was located and palmed the door. It was dark inside, but he felt that he wasn't alone. "Lights to one-quarter," he commanded. Even in the soft light, it took him a moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright corridors to where he could discern the shapes in the room. In the corner beside the bunk, McCoy sat hunched in the floor. "Bones!" Jim all but shouted as he rushed toward the figure. McCoy straightened and looked at Jim, the eyes as vacant as they had been since the funeral. "Yes, Admiral?" McCoy responded. "What the hell are you doing?" Jim demanded. "Just thinking, Admiral Kirk. I have patients on their way, and I was considering all that would need to be done." Jim sat on the edge of the bunk, on one hand relieved that McCoy seemed okay, but on the other distressed that he was still acting so distant. "Bones, will you cut out the 'Admiral' crap! I don't know what you're trying to prove, but I know better than anybody what you're going through!" Leonard rose from the floor and ordered the lights to full. Jim had to squint now that he had become more accustomed to the lower light. "I don't know what you mean, sir. I'm merely making sure that I'm mentally prepared for what's to come." "Goddammit, Bones!" Jim rose up and came face to face with the man. "Maybe this is just your way of trying to get through this, but I need you! And I can't believe for a minute that you don't need me as well. We've lost someone very important to us." Jim softened his tone and brought a hand to the side of Leonard's head and stroked down the side of the face gently with the back of his fingers. "I know the bond that existed between us is gone. Spock held that part of us together. But that doesn't mean that I don't still need you..." he leaned in and kissed McCoy very lightly; there was no response. "It doesn't mean that I don't still love you..." he whispered as he leaned in and kissed him again with the same result. "I loved you long before we were bonded, that'll never change..." this time he kissed him a bit more forcefully. He felt Leonard's mouth become rigid under his touch, but then there was just the slightest movement. With the movement came a ragged breath. Suddenly Bones wrapped his arms around Jim and held him in a death-grip. "Oh, GOD, Jim! Help me! I feel like I'm coming apart!" he sobbed into Jim's neck. Jim held him as tightly as he dared without injuring the man in his arms. "It's okay, Bones. I'm here. We'll get through this." "Take me back, Jim...take me back to Genesis," Leonard wept. The request shocked Kirk. "Genesis? Bones, he's not there. You won't find what we've lost on that planet." "He's there! I have to find him!" Jim pulled back and grabbed McCoy by the shoulders. "Bones! He's gone! Don't you understand? We won't find what we lost back there. We'll only find it with each other. It's like when you were lost on Bakswana-7. The only comfort we found was with each other and the love we both felt for you." McCoy pushed hard against Jim and backed away, almost knocking Kirk to the floor. Had he not grabbed the edge of the bunk, he would have fallen. "Don't you understand?" McCoy shouted. "I don't remember what it was like to love you...or him! I can't remember what it was like to be with either of you! I need to go back there to regain that!" "Bones..." Jim whispered in disbelief. "You don't remember us?" "Oh, I remember the events, I just don't remember what it was to FEEL anything about that time!" "It's just the grief, Bones..." "Don't you get it? I'm not grieving! He's gone. He was an excellent officer and a credit to Starfleet. He was a good man. He'll be missed. On that level, yes, even I feel regret that he's dead. But anything else I'm capable of feeling, seemed to go right out that chute with his body. That's what I mourn, Admiral. I grieve for the man I once was. Not for the man who gave his life in the line of duty, that's something that everyone who serves in Starfleet is committed to. And I'm not grieving for us. What we had...well, that's also gone." "Bones...Leonard..." Jim didn't know what else to say. The nickname he had used for this man from their first meeting no longer seemed right. That man had been a friend from those first minutes and later a lover. This man was an acquaintance, nothing more, if he was to be believed. "Admiral, again, I request to be taken back to Genesis. If you can't comply with that request, then I have things I need to be doing." McCoy rounded his desk, sat down, and pulled up the information on the crew that was to be rescued in the next few hours. Jim stood in the room stunned to numbness. Finally getting his wits about him, he walked to the edge of the desk. "Bones..." He placed a hand lightly on the squared shoulders and felt the muscle tense beneath his touch. He pulled his hand back and thrust it into his pocket. "I can't take you to Genesis, Doctor. The safety conditions are unknown, and we have tasks we must attend to. The rescue of that stranded crew is first on our agenda, then we are to proceed to Starbase 9 for transfers." "Then, Admiral, we have nothing else to discuss." "No…I guess we don't." Jim turned and walked to the door. It slid open, but before it closed behind him, he turned and said, "Bones...if you change your mind, my cabin will be open for you." There was no acknowledgment from the man seated at the desk. The door slid shut. Twenty minutes later Jim toweled off after his shower and slid beneath the covers of his bed. Had any of this seemed real, he knew he would have cried himself to sleep. But none of this was real. Sure, Spock was dead. But all they had together wasn't lost. And, sure, Bones was acting crazy, but that was just grief and, as soon as it hit him, he would be back. Jim had left the security lock off his door just in case. He knew no one else would enter unannounced, and he wanted to make it clear to Bones that he was welcome if he did happen to change his mind. In the subdued light, his eyes kept falling on things that reminded him of the two men he loved. The book, still open on the table beside the chair, the glasses that Bones had given him, now with a cracked lens, the box that had held Spock's burial robe and now held the items they had used to prepare his body. Jim flipped over in the bed and shoved the pillow roughly under his head. There, thrown across the chair on that side of the bed was the uniform he had discarded quickly when he changed for Spock's funeral. Everywhere he looked held memories. "Lights off...close viewport," he commanded, plunging the room in complete, utter darkness. Rest was not going to come easily. And he knew he had to be back up in just a few hours to oversee the rescue of the stranded crew. Pavel Chekov may be the Reliant's senior officer, but for the time being, he was the commander of the Enterprise, and he still had his duty to attend to. It was then that he saw the flicker of light as his door opened and closed. His heart soared. Bones had changed his mind! Jim scooted over in the bed and threw back the sheet to welcome him. "I'm glad you came," he whispered, letting Bones know he was welcome. There was movement on the bed. There was a strange odor that hit Jim's nose. Jesus! Had Bones gone to the botany lab after their encounter in sickbay? Jim swore he caught the sent of lilacs. Hell, he didn't care if he smelled like a cow pasture; it was going to be good to just wrap him in his arms. The body sliding next to him felt wrong. Then the distinctively feminine voice said, "I'm glad you're glad." "WHAT THE..." Jim shouted. "Lights to full!" he ordered. "Carol! What the hell are you doing?" Chapter 13 Lying in his bed next to him was the women who, until recently, he hadn't seen except through the rare vid in over fifteen years. With just her fingertips, she stroked down his chest, scraping a light path from his breastbone to his navel with her nails. "Jim, I know the last days have been hard on you. I thought you might not want to be alone tonight. Besides, it felt like we had made a connection in the last few days." "A connection!" Jim moved away from her hand, rose from the bed, and quickly pulled on his trousers. "Are you kidding?" If everything else that had happened in the last days seemed unreal, this seemed positively preposterous. "Carol, believe me, I appreciate the offer. But whatever you thought you picked up on lately, it certainly wasn't...this!" "Jim..." Carol had come to her knees on the bed, and except for the sheet covering her from the lower abdomen down, she was exposed, and making no effort to alter her state. Her body didn't go unnoticed by Jim. He had to admit, she had changed little in the years since he had last been with her. "We once had a good thing together." "A good thing?" Jim's voice grew louder. The signal to his cabin sounded, but he ignored it. He sure wasn't in the mood for company at the moment. "Goddammit! Just when the hell was that? When you wouldn't confide in me that you had your contraceptive implant removed?" The incessant signal sounded again. "Go away!" he shouted toward the outer room. Turning back to Carol, he continued, his voice not growing any quieter, "Or maybe it was when you found out you were pregnant but didn't bother to let me know! Maybe it was the twenty-three years when you denied me access to my own son! Twenty-three years that he had no idea who his father was and you wouldn't let me near him!" Jim picked up her clothes and threw them on the bed. "Please, just get dressed and get out of here. I've known what it was to love, and to be loved, in these last years. Where in my younger days I just might have taken you up on your offer, I'm not willing to settle for something so meaningless anymore." Carol picked up the clothes and clutched them to her, but made no move to put them on. "Jim, come back to Regula with me. If it's wealth you want, I can show you how to make more than you could ever dream of. We need time, but together we can have everything we talked about when we were young. Let me show you, Jim. If you come with me, you'll decide..." "Carol, don't you get it? Whatever we had in the past is over. I'm not interested. What we could have had together is David, but you wanted him in your life, and you refused to let him have any part in mine. Please...just go!" "Is it because I'm a woman? I know you've spent these last years in a homosexual relationship, but I interested you once." Jim felt the anger building within him. Something in the back of his mind tried to tell him to calm down and not carry this out, but he rarely listened to that voice in the back of his head, and he wasn't going to start now. "You think the reason I don't want to take you to bed is that you're a woman?" he seethed. "Don't underestimate yourself, Carol! The reasons I care nothing about sharing any part of my life with you has little to do with gender. In the years I've known you, you have used trickery, deceit, lies, and deception to get whatever you wanted. I don't need another round of that in my life! Even if I have to spend the years I have left totally alone, it would be better than spending them with someone I can't trust! Now, get the hell out of my cabin before I call security!" Jim turned and walked around the partition that separated the sleeping quarters from the rest of the suite. His first inclination was to get a drink; God knew he could use one. "David!" he exclaimed. "David?" Carol cried out from the other side of the partition. "I rang, Admiral, but when I heard shouting, I let myself in," he stated coolly. Jim shrugged. There was little he could say. He had left the security lock turned off on his door, not a mistake that he would ever again make. He found he wasn't that surprised at this latest turn, considering how the rest of the night had gone. "Have you been here long?" Jim finally asked, flashing his eyes toward the area where his bed lay. "Long enough to clear up some things that have always bothered me," he stated. "David, what are you doing here?" Carol asked breathlessly as she rounded the corner, still adjusting her clothing. "I saw you coming in here. I thought it might be a good opportunity for the three of us to sit down and clear the air. But anything I wanted to know, has been answered, Mother." "David, you don't understand..." Carol protested. "What? That the first twenty-three years of my life were a lie? You told me that my father was a scientist and that my conception was an implant. Then, because there were so many similarities between us, I began to suspect that Jim Kirk was my father. When you finally admitted that he was, you told me that he didn't want a family. That my not knowing him was his idea. It sounds like that wasn't the truth, either." Jim turned around toward Carol. "You told him it was my idea to stay away?" Carol looked between them. "I did what I thought was best, for all of us." She took a few steps toward her son and addressed him specifically. "David, I wanted you in my world. Jim didn't want a child. It was only after you were born that he started to take any interest in you. He was off flying around the galaxy. I didn't want you spending your life chasing after some romantic notion. What kind of life would that have been? I wanted you with me, where I could give you a stable environment." "Carol," Jim stepped toward her and interjected. "You took the decision on whether or not I wanted a child away from me. I'll admit I wanted to pursue a life in Starfleet and didn't handle the news of your pregnancy as well as I should have. But I tried to maintain a relationship with David. I set up the trust fund to assure that neither of you would ever want for anything. I visited at every opportunity, until you told me that my presence upset him and you requested that I never return. After that, I respected your wishes." "A trust fund? Mother, is he speaking of the trust fund that you told me was a bequeath from your family?" Carol answered, but here eyes never left Jim. "David, I couldn't tell you where the money was coming from." "Mother...we've used that money for our work on the Genesis project. Do you know what the implications will be..." "That's enough David!" Carol flashed her eyes toward her son and snapped. "The money was there to use as we saw fit. It afforded you the best education available and saw you begin your career as one of the premier scientists in the galaxy. I'm sure Jim isn't interested in a detailed accounting of how it was spent." "No, not as long as it was put to good use." Jim shook his head. "And it sounds like that was the case." His voice softened as he spoke to his son. "I've always wanted you to have every advantage possible. I just wish I could have been there for you when you were growing up. I should have tried harder." "It doesn't sound like you are completely to blame for that." Jim felt his anger diffuse. The young man standing before him needed acceptance, not his parents standing here tearing each other apart. After all, for every barb he could throw at Carol, there was one she could throw back at him. "David, time can be spent trying to lay blame. God knows there's enough to go around between your mother and me. But the fact of the matter is, you're someone who any man would be proud to call his son. It just happens to be my good fortune that you're my son. The credit for that goes to the person who has raised you and been the greatest influence in your life. Obviously, your mother loves you and did the best that she could, given her circumstances. And, as I've just been reminded this evening, we all make mistakes. But if these last days have proven anything, it's that time spent trying to assign blame is a waste. Unfortunately, David, you've been given a lot of information in these last couple of days that challenges a lot of what you believe about yourself. But don't let that affect the man you've become." "Fatherly advice?" David looked at Jim and grinned a half-smile. It was that same smile that Jim returned to him. "Maybe. Don't you think it's about time?" "If," David said, looking toward his mother knowingly, "you have no other plans, Admiral, I would like to stay and talk to you, alone. We didn't get much of a chance to do that earlier." "David...I think it would be best..." Carol interjected. "I will see you at breakfast, Mother," David interrupted. "Fine," she answered curtly. Looking toward Jim, she added, "I'm...sorry...if there was any...shall we just call it 'mixed signals' tonight?" Jim just nodded, slightly. "Good night, Carol," he answered as she turned and left the cabin. As the door slid shut, David turned to Jim. "Admiral Kirk, I apologize for both my and my mother's behavior since our first encounter. I'm afraid we've given you very little reason to respect either of us." Jim poured two snifters of brandy and handed one to his son. They sat down and Jim said, "David, first of all, you're welcome to call me whatever makes you most comfortable; Jim, Kirk...maybe someday you will even feel comfortable in calling me 'Father,' but we can dispense with the formality. Second, I have great respect for all that you and Carol have accomplished. I think the inroads you have made are going to be the talk of the scientific community for years to come." He noticed his son looked uncomfortable, but knew that the kind of accolades that would be placed on him over this discovery was a lot for a young man to handle. But, even knowing his son only these few days, Jim knew he could handle it. "I'm afraid that none of us have been at our best these last days. It is unfortunate that on top of everything else that's happened, you find out the truth about your parentage amidst the turmoil." "I admit that it is untimely for such discoveries, but I wouldn't call it 'unfortunate,' Father," David looked up and answered. "I'm glad that I know the truth. I'm sorry I didn't get to know you better when you were coming around. I remember how upset Mother used to get, I guess now I understand why. I think my reaction to you was based on how she acted when you visited." Jim smiled at the use of the familial term. He discovered he liked the name. It felt right, like something had been missing before. "Certainly understandable. You were only seven the last time I saw you. A child of that age is certainly going to pick up on a parent's emotions." The next three hours were spent with Jim and David getting to know a bit about each other. There wasn't time to catch up on everything that had happened during those missing years, but there was a level of comfort that settled in between them that made the years spent apart less important. David spoke of his years of schooling, and some of the antics that were pulled during that time, some of which, to Jim, seemed vaguely reminiscent of events in his own life. David spoke of difficulties in being the youngest among his peers throughout all his years of school, something that Jim could relate to very well. Jim was surprised to learn that when he was fourteen, David had been presented with the prestigious Cl'ya'tih award, given yearly to a notable student in the field of genetic research by the Vulcan Science Academy. He spent a term studying at the VSA and, doing the math, Jim realized that at the time of the bonding, his son had been only kilometers away. David spoke little of the Genesis project, but considering the outcome of the explosion, Jim understood why his son was reticent to bring it up. Jim told David of his own background, leaving out the most traumatic and controversial events, about his brother, Sam, and of his years at Starfleet Academy. He spoke of the five-year mission when he was appointed to be the Captain of the Enterprise, and of many of the adventures that the ship had encountered during that time. He told David of the friendship and then the bond that been formed between himself, Spock and McCoy, and David seemed to begin to understand his level of grief over his bondmate's death. David didn't seem judgmental over Jim's decision to commit himself to a homosexual relationship, and even though he didn't say so specifically, alluded to the fact that he had also experimented with relationships of both sexes. It was the fact that Jim had been romantically involved with a Vulcan that seemed to pique his interest the most. Having spent time on Vulcan, brief as it was, had intrigued David with the culture of the Vulcan people. Saavik's name kept creeping into the conversation, and David eventually admitted that he had sensed an emotional connection with her from the first. Since his father had been in love with a Vulcan, David wanted advice on how best to proceed. Jim had to laugh. This evening it seemed his major function had been to give advice to the lovelorn. And, in the back of his mind, he wondered how the evening was going for a certain commander who had sat in the very seat where his son was now sitting just hours before. Better than his attempt with McCoy, he hoped. Jim told David that he couldn't speak for all Vulcans, but honesty, above all else, was mandatory. It was only the sound of the comm, and the notification that they were approaching Ceti Alpha V, that brought a regretful end to the discussion. However, it seemed that in these few short hours, they had begun to bridge the distance between them and speak as father and son. David left and Jim dressed quickly to go to the bridge. While pulling on his jacket, Jim thought to himself, 'Wait till I tell Spock that David is interested in Saavik!' Then the realization hit him that that wouldn't be possible, and the sadness that had temporarily been abated returned full force. Chapter 14 Jim proceeded to the bridge where he watched as Saavik guided them into orbit above Ceti Alpha V. Scotty rose from the command chair to turn it over to Kirk, but Jim shook his head. "Stay where you are, Scotty. I'll be going to the transporter room," he said. "Aye, sir," Scotty nodded, as he settled back down into the seat. As Jim turned to leave, the turbolift opened and Sulu, looking quite flushed, rushed onto the bridge, stopping short in front of Jim. "I'm sorry, Admiral. I was...detained," he said, looking as guilty as Kirk had ever seen him. "Detained, Commander?" Jim said just above a whisper. "Aye, sir...with a crewman that I understand you were responsible for sending to my cabin." "Ah...and that crewman is...?" "Wonderful, sir!" Sulu grinned, sheepishly. Jim nodded. "Carry on, Commander," he said in his normal tone of voice. "Yes, sir!" Sulu answered enthusiastically. Jim boarded the lift with a shake of his head and a smile. Arriving in the transporter room, he found that Chekov was already there making arrangements for his crew and their beaming to the ship. It was a decidedly more relaxed, confident Pavel Chekov than had been in his cabin earlier in the evening. "We've been in contact, Admiral. The communication is faint, they seem to be using some equipment from the cargo carriers, but it seems that they have all survived. Medical is on the way." "Excellent, Commander. When will we be in transporter range?" Pavel checked the readouts that the transporter chief was displaying. "Three point seven minutes...mark." The bay doors slid open and Leonard entered followed by medical techs, equipped with hovercarts, and two nurses. A look passed between Jim and Bones and, for a brief moment, the vacant look was gone and there was a flash of understanding. "We'll be in range in three minutes, Doctor," Jim said. Leonard nodded and set about adjusting his med scanner. Jim doubted that the device needed that much fine-tuning, but was sure the doctor's actions were nothing more than an excuse to keep their eyes from meeting. Perhaps it was for the best. This wasn't the time to address what was happening between them, even silently. "We have scanned them, sair," Chekov said, pulling his attention away from McCoy. "Just as I suspected, the magnetic fields are playing havoc with the scanners, but adjusting for those, we should be able to grab onto them." "Excellent, Commander." "We are beaming the first twelve up now, sair," Pavel announced, as he stepped from behind the transport command desk to where he was closer to the platform. Within the next few minutes, all of the remaining Reliant crew was safely aboard the Enterprise. Although dehydrated and hungry, most were in decent shape. Leonard confirmed that all would be fine, even though several had injuries that Khan had inflicted upon them before he left them to die. The worst of those injured was Commander Kyle, the communications officer on the Reliant, and someone who had served on the Enterprise during those first years. Khan and his men had beaten him severely, but McCoy assured a concerned Pavel that he would be fine. Before leaving orbit, Jim sent a four-man security team down to retrieve any records from the cargo carriers that could be turned over to Starfleet. Once the security team had been retrieved, they set course for Starbase 9. Starfleet advised Jim that the Grissom would be waiting to receive the Genesis team onboard, and that all other personnel not permanently assigned to the Enterprise would be transferred off at the base. It was unusual that the trainees wouldn't be returned to Earth for debriefing and permanent assignments, but it seemed that Starfleet was anxious to get them placed as soon as possible. And with the recent destruction of the Alexander, it was understandable why Starfleet needed to get the new crew to the ships as quickly as possible. The following day they arrived at their destination. Saying goodbye was difficult, for both Jim and David. They had just found each other, and all too soon it was time to part. But this time, they both knew that what held them together was far stronger than the distance that would separate them. It had been a comfort to have David beside him for those few days, and his absence was going to be keenly felt. Saavik had requested to join the Grissom as part of the research team, and her request had been approved. Knowing that David would have someone he cared for with him, gave Jim some measure of comfort. As he wished his son well, he discovered that the emotions of pride and pleasure he felt were intermingled with concern and anxiety over his son's well being. It surprised Jim at how quickly the protective feelings of a father seemed to descend on him. As David hugged him, Jim had the uncanny desire to hold onto him and not let him go. 'Most illogical,' he could almost hear Spock saying. Carol departed the ship at Starbase 9 as well. She was most anxious to get back to Regula 1 as quickly as possible, and had arranged private transport to take her from the starbase to the location of the lab. She explained that there would be much to take care of now that clean-up operations had been completed. Jim had agreed, and although their farewell had been cordial, he found it a relief that she was gone. Had the Enterprise not been in need of extensive repair, Jim would have arranged for them to head out after dropping the others off at the base. It was only then that the full implications of what had happened in the last days hit him. Spock was no longer there to command the Enterprise. Certainly there were officers ready for promotion, Hikaru Sulu was certainly qualified, but neither Nogura nor Morrow considered Sulu ready for command, and the thought of anyone else commanding this ship was unthinkable. Jim couldn't think of another candidate that he would feel comfortable handing her over to. The words kept ringing in his ears, 'I know there is one other that is eminently more qualified.' When he had to inform Spock that the Alexander had been destroyed and the Enterprise was slated for a regular mission, Spock had made this point. Now, Spock was no longer around to command that mission. It was then that he realized he had no intention of allowing anyone else to take command of this ship that Spock gave his life to save, even if it meant giving up the Admiralty to do it. Too, there was the Genesis planet. The potential for development of the project had been proven. With that, the Federation was on the threshold of colonization that had been thought impossible before. Jim knew he wanted to be a part of it, something that would pass him by if he stayed behind a desk at Starfleet. As he told Bones just nights before, he had made a difference in the years he had spent as Chief of Operations. But now, he realized, it was time to get back to doing what he was best at. Bones said he wasn't going to take another assignment soon, and had adamantly expressed his feelings about wanting the Enterprise to return to Genesis. Perhaps their reasons differed, but Jim discerned he was beginning to have the same urge to return to the planet. Since this would answer both of their needs, Jim was sure that McCoy would sign on for this. Together, they would find a way back to each other and, at the same time, make sure that Spock's death stood for something. Once assuring himself that the Reliant crew was in good hands, Chekov had requested to stay on board the Enterprise, at least temporarily, as the navigator. Saavik's departure had left the ship without anyone fully qualified for that position, and his request had been granted. With one major exception, the crew that had explored the universe together was complete. Yet it was undeniable that the absence of Spock left a gaping hole in the crew, much greater than just the empty seat. Jim walked past the science station and laid his hand on the empty chair. No, he silently swore, Spock's death would not be in vain. And, deep within him, there was a flicker of something that he had not felt in what seemed like a very long time. It seemed to warm him, and with the warmth came a melting of the feelings he had frozen inside. And the words, 'It was the spring of hope...' echoed within him. <Finis> |