kirktastic | [Beach, Risa] -- [Kirk and Kirk]

Current Location: Beach, Risa

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[Beach, Risa] -- [Kirk and Kirk]

After Kirk left the cabin and sped off, he knew how restless he was. Too many thoughts buzzed in his head. Thoughts of Pher, thoughts of the possibility of Pher's Spock returning to get him or vengeance. How could he possibly make a choice in all of that?

Then... that meld. Spock agreeing to basically what boiled down to a cuddle between the three of them. Waking up with their hands touching. No, not just touching. He hadn't realized until several miles from the cabin that his hand was sore. They had been clutching. The red-golden thread that had stretched between himself and Spock.

He found himself wondering if something like that was between himself and Bones, and Bones and Spock.

Kirk stopped by the private cabin he shared with Bones only long enough to write his lover a note and look in on him. He wanted to slip into bed there, fall asleep against the other and let the worry stop for a while, but felt entirely too restless.

The dawn found him out on one of the beaches. He was sitting in his pants, shoes off and back by the cycle, sitting in the surf as it rolled in. His knees were pulled up and he was leaning back on his palms.

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Private Communication to James Kirk (other)

Soon as you're awake, feel free to come find me. My global position's attached.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jim was silent for a moment, troubled. His relationship with Spock complicated things, and he was still working out how much and how much it should. He needed to know he could separate emotion from duty.

"Revenge, for him, would be illogical. He's still Spock, but ruthless in his survival. And when I presented another alternative, a course more in line with the logic of our worlds, he listened. He seemed receptive to the idea that he could change things from within. No, I don't think he would seek revenge. Guns blazing isn't his style.

"What I cannot predict is Pike. I never knew him, you know. I mean my version. I can't say what he'd convince Spock of, with so much influence over him. I can't say what he'd want. I certainly don't want a revolving door between the universes; we only got back because the ion storm was still going and we had a narrow window and precise calculations. But if both sides need to work together, there is no door. We lock it once Pike is gone."

Kirk went silent after that, looking back out over the water. The sun was lighting him up brilliant and gold. "You would wait until we get some form of contact from their universe - communication or person - and let Pike go back." He said in a quiet statement.

Jim looked at Kirk's profile for a moment, limned in light and beautiful. Then he looked back out over the water.

"I'd keep looking for a solution, but yes. And if none was forthcoming, no signal received... I don't know. Put Pike someplace he couldn't hurt anyone else, couldn't reach anyone. Maybe that's as good as a death sentence, but I'm not an executioner." And neither are you, he thought privately. "I'd like to believe he could be rehabilitated. But I think it's gone too far for that."

"...Honestly, if my choices were between death and being locked away in a silent place for the rest of my life? I think I'd take my chances with Lady Death." Kirk shuddered. Being locked away forever sounded like his idea of hell.

"Then we differ in that," Jim said. "Oh, I agree with you, in part. Or rather, I might come to. But I've always clung to that cliche about life and hope. I don't know what happens after we die, but I do know that until then there's always an opportunity. Somewhere. And I didn't specify a deep dark dungeon. There are unmapped planets, far-flung star systems, places he could make a life for himself."

Alone. He left that unspoken. It was not ideal, no. But it was one of the options, among many less-than-ideal choices.

"...I've been on one of those planets, Jim. Where there's nothing. It was as good as a prison cell." Kirk shivered for a moment. "We can't leave him somewhere. Someone could pick him up, our enemies or even one of our allies... who knows what he knows, what information he could offer, what he could do in the hands of someone that doesn't know who he is."

"I know," he sighed. He did. He understood the dangers. But a proud man like Pike... Jim found himself thinking about Khan. He'd made the decision he thought was just. And Khan had agreed to his plan, his appeal to Khan's love of challenge.

"Maybe we just haven't found the right incentive. Do we really know what he wants, even after all this?"

"The right incentive for what? He's here, trapped here... the incentive to get out of there? To change over a new leaf? What are you thinking?" Confusion was on his features now.

Jim looked at Kirk now, watching him. "The incentive to become someone we don't feel tempted to eliminate," he said. "Right now, he is a prisoner. Anything he can do is better than where he is. He knows that. He also knows that it is likely he'll be executed--he'd long ago have done so to any of us, in his position. He knows there is no chance of him living freely among us. But what would he do, given some alternative?"

"...an alternative what?" Kirk shifted in the sand, the water curling around their feet. He just looked very confused. "I don't understand what you mean. If there's no chance of him living among us, because I sure as fuck wouldn't trust him enough to give him a chance to hurt someone... what alternative are you thinking about exactly?"

Jim sighed.

"I don't know," he said, spreading his hands. "Our ancestors used to kill tigers and wolves and bears simply because human expansion had crowded them out of their hunting grounds. Both were only doing what came naturally to them, under incomprehensible circumstances. Both sides aiming for survival. We don't know what the Klingons will do. Or the Romulans. We suspect what they're capable of. And so we make treaties, we figure out what they want, and somehow try to live in the same universe.

"Pike's life is not mine to take. You need to decide if it's yours. That's the decision. And whatever it is, there are options, even if we haven't seen them yet."

The final statement made Kirk go silent. He stared off into the rising sun, then closed his eyes. He pulled his legs up to him, arms wrapping around them, but said nothing at all. The surf curled around them, the water so warm.

He wanted to touch him. To reach out and comfort him, even with just a hand on a shoulder. It was instinct but he'd been screwed over by his instincts where touch was concerned these past few days and he wasn't sure if it would be comforting at all.

Jim was quiet a few minutes, letting the light spill brighter upon them, the tide lap at their legs. He'd be all wet but it didn't matter.

"For what it's worth, I've been there," he said quietly. "I understand." But part of what he understood was that it didn't matter how much support you had and how much trust and how much others were willing to share your burdens. The decision, the responsibility, was his alone.

"...I know you do. That's why I can talk about this with you." Kirk said softly. Then, after another silence,

"...Other the last few days, I keep wondering if maybe they should have found someone more experienced then me to take on the Enterprise. Maybe its my fate - I mean, look at you - but... would they have made better choices?"

"I don't believe in fate," he said. "I believe our circumstances are similar enough that we were drawn to the same life. That our qualities make us naturally inclined to this position." Though all this was being questioned by recent weeks, by the various interactions between counterparts and striking similarities and differences, Jim had to keep believing that. Fate had no place in his world, where actions had direct consequences which were not mapped out beforehand.

"Circumstances conspired to put you there ahead of me. But from what I hear, you were there because you were the right man for the job. You saved the Enterprise. You saved the Earth and the remnants of Vulcan. Who else, Jim? Who would you put in command of the Enterprise? I made mistakes at your age. I've wondered, these past few weeks, if you were too young. If I would have been too young. But I've made mistakes since then, too. Fewer as I go on, I hope. You never stop doubting that. I haven't, even though I've learn to hide it. But I've learned also to balance that doubt with the knowledge that most of the time, I'm doing the right thing. That someone will call me on it when I'm not.

"Maybe someone else might have made different choices. No way of telling whether they're better. But I know you're a good captain. And I know Admiral Pike wouldn't have sanctioned your command if he didn't have complete faith in you. It's a difficult job. If it isn't, something's wrong."

"I never believed in fate until the thing with the Narada. Then... then I did." Kirk's fingers tightened as his sides into fists. "There's no way all that could have happened without fate being involved. Bones deciding to pull me onto the Enterprise as a stow away. Spock deciding to drop me off on an ice hell hole. The monster chasing me, the SECOND monster chasing me, in that exact direction, falling off a fucking cliff, seeing the cave, and fucking a Spock from another universe? That's... impossible."

There was a pause.

"It does defy any rational explanation I can come up with," Jim admitted. "I suppose I could formulate some sort of belief in a connection between us--that's borne out by other trans-dimensional experiences I've had--without thinking it's all written. I don't think I could accept that. I couldn't operate that way."

[[OOC - Best. Typo. Ever. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and not letting Jim respond as if Kirk really said "fucking a Spock."]]

[OOC: OMFG I CANT BELIEVE I TYPED THAT. DYING OVER HERE. I ALMOST LOL'D AT WORK THAT I CHOKED ON MY LAUGH. FINDING! FINDING A SPOCK. OMFG. ROFL ROFL ROFL.]

"I don't accept that it can't be changed." Kirk pointed out. "It was something that was supposed to happen, at some point maybe, but... who knows. Earth would be gone right now if I hadn't found him."

[[OOC - Priceless.]]

"Whatever it is, then, it worked."

He watched Jim again for a long moment. Jim would have to work out for himself what he believed. What allowed him to perform in this world.

"Yea." Kirk murmured very softly, bringing his knees up fully and resting his chin on them. He lapsed into silence, staring out into the distance. He was soaked from the waist down and damp from the waist up from the spray, his thin shirt clinging to him.

Jim wondered if the kid was even aware of the water. If he'd slept. Eaten. Anything.

Finally he did reach out, as he'd wanted to this entire time, placing a warm hand gently on his shoulder.

"You should rest," he said.

The shoulder under Jim's hand was cool, telling how long he had been sitting out in the surf, but it didn't pull away. "Too restless to rest." Kirk murmured. "S'how I ended up here and not asleep back at the cabin with Spock and Spock or my cabin with Bones."

Jim nodded. And how he'd come to message him. He understood needing to be alone. He was glad Jim had contacted him.

"You should get warm, at least," he said. "Jim. Maybe this isn't the time, but... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel the way you did when we should have been sleeping off some truly spectacular sex. That was my foolishness. None of yours."

That makes him look fully at his counterpart. "...I knew you were in the bond with Spock and Bones. I shouldn't have asked you." He said simply, quietly.

Jim looked into his counterpart's eyes, holding his gaze. How different they were, and yet how the same.

"It's not like that," he said. "For one thing, no one forced me. I can control myself. And it seems you had a better handle on how things are than I did. I convinced myself..." He frowned, more of a grimace, really, recalling. "I convinced myself that it was the right thing, to give precedence to them. Lacking clear boundaries, I drew the line there. And I involved you, personally, in my own confusion about what this thing is. In the end, the problem wasn't us, or anything we did. It certainly wasn't Spock, who seems to take to the idea fairly strongly. The problem was my uncertainty, my instincts at war with what I had convinced myself was right.

"I was wrong. But I needed time to work out why that was. To establish what Spock needs from me, what the bond calls for, and what it means for him not to want me to change. I was willing to be theirs only, if that's what it took. I've done it for the ship, after all. But they're not the ship. And I'm sorry I caught you in that. It was my job to work that out before I involved anyone else."

He managed to look a little sheepish, now, his contrition as heartfelt as everything else ever written on his face.

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