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There is a certain moment that people take, where they close their eyes and take a slow, deep breath inwards. For that moment, right at the very peak of the breath, the world around vanishes, thoughts disappear, and the body seems to almost float. Try it. Slow, deep breath with the eyes closed.
Each breath was slow, deep, measured. It filled the lungs, as loud as the rush of the ocean on the beach. Underneath it all was the same slow, deep, measured toll of each heartbeat.
It was on the peak of one of those breaths that his eyes opened. White light spilled between his eyelids, then the world became fuzzy colors, then fuzzy outlines, then solid ones. He was staring at a ceiling. So he remained there, time unknown and unmeasured, staring. It was better then the darkness, at any rate.
Sickbay? Looked like the ceiling, at least. The picture of sickbay built in his mind as he heard the biobed's continuous digital beat, the sound of someone murmuring in the distance, the smell of antiseptic, the hum of something mechanical around him.
So, naturally, he sat up. He took a slow look around him, feeling strangely distant from everything, even himself. Bedsheets covered him, there was something glowing slowly around him, and yes, definitely in sickbay.
It should have been very strange to look back down at himself as he stood up, yet there was nothing. No panic, no terror, just a strange divorced feeling. Kirk shifted away, looking at himself, then finally away. His body still beat, still breathed, wouldn't miss him for now. Why was his skin bright pink like that?
He stepped away, unable to feel the cold floor under his bare feet.
Each breath was slow, deep, measured. It filled the lungs, as loud as the rush of the ocean on the beach. Underneath it all was the same slow, deep, measured toll of each heartbeat.
It was on the peak of one of those breaths that his eyes opened. White light spilled between his eyelids, then the world became fuzzy colors, then fuzzy outlines, then solid ones. He was staring at a ceiling. So he remained there, time unknown and unmeasured, staring. It was better then the darkness, at any rate.
Sickbay? Looked like the ceiling, at least. The picture of sickbay built in his mind as he heard the biobed's continuous digital beat, the sound of someone murmuring in the distance, the smell of antiseptic, the hum of something mechanical around him.
So, naturally, he sat up. He took a slow look around him, feeling strangely distant from everything, even himself. Bedsheets covered him, there was something glowing slowly around him, and yes, definitely in sickbay.
It should have been very strange to look back down at himself as he stood up, yet there was nothing. No panic, no terror, just a strange divorced feeling. Kirk shifted away, looking at himself, then finally away. His body still beat, still breathed, wouldn't miss him for now. Why was his skin bright pink like that?
He stepped away, unable to feel the cold floor under his bare feet.
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Date: 2009-10-13 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 09:03 pm (UTC)The tone was overjoyed and confused at once, and Jim rose, sliding from his body to reveal his old uniform fitted tight, his hand in Kirk's solid though everything else seemed just a little (pleasantly) frayed at the edges.
The connection was still there, a little buzz, less apparent than with Spock and his Vulcan senses but noticeable. But Jim no longer ached.
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Date: 2009-10-13 09:50 pm (UTC)The world was fuzzy at the edges, distant and remote.
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Date: 2009-10-13 09:58 pm (UTC)Kirk looked utterly real, his eyes brighter than anything else in the room. But Jim looked around anyway.
Dreaming.
Or something, but something close. It felt more real, despite the fuzzy edges, than a dream, and the fact he was now thinking this heightened both the reality and the unreality of it. Dreaming together?
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Date: 2009-10-13 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 10:07 pm (UTC)Jim fell into step beside him, glancing periodically at the younger man's face. Did he know it was a dream? Jim decided not to say anything yet, until he knew more about what was going on. He might be wrong, though glancing back, his body still lying there, it seemed reasonable. Oddly, he thought of Bill. Maybe because he now had another context for looking at that face, that body.
He faced forward again.
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Date: 2009-10-13 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 10:25 pm (UTC)Jim paid no notice of anything but Kirk, his attention entirely fixed on him.
Everything looks okay.
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Date: 2009-10-13 10:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 10:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 10:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-13 10:56 pm (UTC)Yes. Show me your ship.
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Date: 2009-10-13 11:21 pm (UTC)...ship? Oh, ship.. yes. Thoughts came a little disjointedly.
Sure. That smile, bright, and he turned, slowly showing Jim the entirety of the ship. He spoke in surprisingly loving terms for how young of a captain he was and how short of a time he had been in command of her.
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Date: 2009-10-13 11:29 pm (UTC)She's beautiful.
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Date: 2009-10-13 11:39 pm (UTC)His smile could light up the world.
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Date: 2009-10-14 02:54 am (UTC)Then you are me, he said, as if it needed confirmation. I've never wanted anything else. Jim... may I show you mine?
Suddenly it seemed possible. It seemed necessary. It was Jim's refuge, his home. And he needed Kirk to see it, to understand. To share. As Jim had shared his. And in this place, he thought, wherever it was, couldn't he make that happen?
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Date: 2009-10-14 04:14 am (UTC)It didn't seem so impossible. It seemed as natural as offering to show an image from the computer or something down in the gym. Sure, they could. Kirk would follow Jim anywhere.
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Date: 2009-10-14 05:20 am (UTC)But this was Jim's lady.
The bridge. Bustling in Jim's memory, no emergency but the heady rush of alpha shift, everyone wanting to be there, not minding the lull between adventures when they could take a little time between duties to joke pleasantly. It was all a low buzz as Jim smiled at Kirk, slowly turning in a circle to take it all in.
I miss her. She'll always be home.
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Date: 2009-10-14 11:52 am (UTC)Shiny.
Kirk stepped forward, just taking in everything with each step. He blinked as he studied people, finally asking as he stepped in front of Chekov at navigation - having met Sulu - Who is this?
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Date: 2009-10-14 01:56 pm (UTC)For a moment, Jim merely basked in her presence. There was that twinge of homesickness, but here, somehow, he could just remember without regret. He would return. For now, there was this. A reminder. In his memory, Spock bent over the viewer, and as it never had before this aroused a surge of affection. The turbolift doors opened, admitting Bones, who came to stand just behind and to the side of the command chair, and Jim smiled. Yes, it would be like this again.
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Date: 2009-10-14 02:04 pm (UTC)He let out a laugh. Something simple and easy, his eyes bright. This is amazing! Show me more of her? He wanted to see it all. The reasons to be there, which felt as solid as earth despite the fuzzy edges, were unneeded. All that mattered was that they were there.
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Date: 2009-10-14 02:14 pm (UTC)Jim held out his hand again, and Kirk took it, and they seemed to drift through the ship though her decking felt real under their feet. He showed Kirk Engineering, the labs, the rec room where he and Spock had first discovered their mutual love of chess, his quarters. Jim's eyes glittered the whole time, his passion different from Scotty's but his love no less for that.
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Date: 2009-10-14 02:22 pm (UTC)He knew Jim needed this ship. He could sense it, feel it in every word Jim spoke as he showed her off.
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Date: 2009-10-14 02:29 pm (UTC)He didn't know how, or why, that was immutable. It just was, and that was enough.
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