Chapter Text
Jim dragged his hands down his face and only barely stopped himself from adding nails to the mix. He greatly regretted what he said to Sarek, and his only defense was not knowing Sarek would respond like that. It was a poor excuse, Jim knew that, but when he got backed into a corner, he found ways to get out. Sometimes those ways are physically violent, and other times, those ways are emotionally violent. Considering Jim had no interest in getting court marshaled in another universe, he opted for the more peaceful option. The option that could technically be excused by ignorance.
"Why the fuck did I do that?" Because he was getting too close to the thing you don't want to discuss.
How would Jim ever survive meeting his dad if he was actively alienating anyone who broached the subject?
Fuck.
Jim heaved in a deep, unsteady breath and pulled his hands away from his face. He wouldn't be able to hide anything if he marked it, and taking his nails away lessened the chance of damage. Stars, what Jim would give for a bar right now. Get drunk, intentionally piss someone off, and get punched in his face like he deserved. If Bones found out what he'd done, he'd be pissed. Bones would never punch him, but the verbal lashing would be just as painful. And if Bones was silent when he found out, that would be even worse. Jim deserved it, though.
Who in their right mind would say something like that??
You're not in your right mind.
Jim started picking at the arms of his chair as he tried his hardest to find a comfortable position. Would Sarek even be back? Should he comm Pike and ask for another assignment? What would Pike think if he found out what was said? Jim was about to pull out his comm when Pike came bursting through the doors. He looked strained, though that could mean a number of things.
"What did you say to Sarek?"
"Which time?"
Pike put his fists on his hips and let out a long breath. "Both."
"The first time was me telling him about his wife if things play out as they did in our universe." Jim received an understanding nod at that. Pike knew he had to tell that story, though Pike didn't know the details. "The next time was sharing Doctor McCoy's goal."
"So he's closer to David than we thought, eh?"
Jim nodded and sat down, gesturing to the chair next to him. "I feel like I punched him twice, and he said 'thank you.'"
"He said 'thank you' because that's what you say to people trying to save your loved ones." Pike said it so casually as he dropped into the chair and clapped his hands on his thighs. Had he delivered news like this yet?
"I could have said it better."
"There's no good way to say it, Jim." Pike sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "Delivering bad news is just part of the job. It's never easy, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, Captain."
"You're right, you don't." Jim snapped before catching himself with a wince. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
"Do you have anyone you can talk to like this? Anyone besides McCoy?" Despite being decades younger, Pike still had wisdom in his eyes. A fatherly glow about him. Or was Jim imagining things? "I mean back home. You and I both know you can talk to me about this here."
Jim bit out a strained laugh and shook his head. "McCoy's all I got since you died."
"You don't have a crew of senior officers and friends to confide in?" Jim didn't need to see the eyebrow to know he was being given one and judged harshly. However, that judgment didn't last long before Pike leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder. "And drop the formalities unless using them makes you feel more grounded."
Jim snorted and shot Pike a challenging smirk. "I'm the senior here, I should be telling you that."
"You aren't fooling me, Jim." And he really wasn't.
"I—" Jim started before closing his mouth, shaking his head, and dropping it to his hands, immediately falling into an old pattern he had with his Pike. "I have friends in my crew, close ones. People who I'd readily die for and who'd do the same for me. But this is something... The only reason Bones knows is because he was the one who caught my impending breakdown during the first month at the academy."
Pike turned on the calm, soothing voice the other him had used whenever he was talking Jim off a ledge. "What happened?" How can he be younger than me and not a captain, yet he's still so much better at being a captain than I ever will be?? "Jim?"
"Obviously everyone knew who I was due to Starfleet parading me, my brother, and my mom around." Jim rubbed the back of his neck and straightened up before continuing, "One person. ONE person gave me their condolences, and suddenly I couldn't go more than ten meters down a hallway before someone interrupted me to tell me how much of a hero my dad was and they were so sorry for my loss."
"Please tell me it was the cadets and not the professors, at least…."
"That was actually Bones' first—wait, no, third—demerit."
"Oh, really?"
Jim laughed and nodded. "The first was because he missed his orientation because the hospital called him in and the call reached him before it reached his superiors. He argued with the person at the door trying to keep him in, then he pushed right on past him like he was a saloon door."
"A saloon door? You can't be serious."
"Paraphrasing Bones' story. Anyway, that got off his record, but the second is when he argued with one of his medical professors who was misquoting his research without realizing who—"
"As amusing as this is, I know you're trying to distract me." Pike leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. "What happened at the academy?"
"I'm at least going to tell you about his third demerit, because it's related." Jim heaved in a breath and stared at his hands...
Bones, who wasn't Bones quite yet, was mid-nagging about Jim's lack of vegetables when a person in an instructor uniform approached their table. Jim looked over to Bones, who shook his head in silent confirmation: neither knew who this person was. It was a professor they'd both later have in their third year, Professor Salt. Advanced diplomacy. If he had known the name at the time, Jim would have said it was a warning. After finding out, Bones even called him Mister Salty, hitting on both his rank and his name. Professor Salt was tall, mid-sixties, and hardly had any stress lines despite the wrinkles. Jim suspected it then and confirmed it later; this professor had no real, lived experience beyond papers and counseling.
"Young Mister Kirk, may I express my greatest sympathies and condolences for your loss." No, you may not, but you're going to do it anyway. Captain Kirk was a hero to the Federation—" No he wasn't, he was a hero to his crew. "—and his loss is still felt to this day." Only to my family. "I wish I had had the pleasure of having him as a student. His approach in the battle with the—"
"The hell is wrong with you?" Bones shouted, slamming his fists down at the table and standing up.
"Excuse me, Cadet?!" Professor Salt sputtered, putting a hand over his heart like a damsel in distress. "I was merely—"
"Merely interrupting a lunch to make your sorry self feel superior. Now I ask you again, Professor , what the hell is wrong with you?" Professor Salt couldn't come up with any words, only threats, which Bones bulldozed. "Oh, you ain't smart enough to realize what's wrong despite wearing that black uniform? Let me fill ya in." Bones started counting on his fingers. "You interrupted our lunch without introducing yourself, you restated the most empty goddamn phrase in the history of mankind to someone who's heard it a million times already, and you inserted your own damn self into the narrative by bringing up George Kirk's battle tactics unsolicited. Do I need to go on?!"
"You need to report to—"
"You need to report your own damn self, the lot of ya!" Bones yelled that last part to everyone in the cafeteria, who were already listening in on the tirade. "Shame on all o' ya! Kirk can't be his own Kirk if y'all keep forcing him to live in his daddy's shadow."
"I demand to know the name of your advisor!"
"Phil Boyce ain't gonna help ya, you gotta go higher than that."
Professor Salt's face was beet red by now. "Then I am reporting you straight to the commandant, Admiral Barnett!"
"Good, it'll be nice to catch up and let him know what a godawful job he's been doin' about making sure this academy treats its students with respect and dignity."
"To his office! Now!"
"Great, I'll lead the way!" Bones took his salad, untouched, and dumped it onto Jim's plate. "Now eat your damn vegetables."
The smell of raspberry vinaigrette, Jim would never forget it, was the only reason he came back to reality. He watched Bones go, still stunned, and the cafeteria did the same. When the doors swished shut, everyone went back to their food silently.
And Jim ate his damn vegetables.
Pike's face warned between amusement and horror before deciding on a frown. "How did McCoy survive the academy?"
"Biggest Starfleet signing bonus in history and the entirety of the medical brass backed him," Jim said with an overly casual shrug.
"He didn't piss off the medical brass?"
Jim grinned. "Oh, he did, but only after he was a CMO."
Pike shook his head and casually covered his face, pretending to lean on his hand. He couldn't hide the blush or that 'stupid smile' Bones talked about. "I can see why the other me liked him."
"When Bones got back to our dorm, I was... not in a good state." Jim leaned on the table again and turned away from Pike. "He told me he got Barnett to agree to send a memo to the staff about 'minding their own damn business' and then brought out some really nice bourbon. When Bones got three glasses in, he told me about his father dying and how everyone treated him, even his soon-to-be ex-wife. 'Molly-coddling,' he called it. He knew..." Jim looked up at Pike, eyes likely red with strain, considering how hard he tried not to cry at the memories. "He knew almost exactly what I was going through, but it was fresh. I had twenty-two years to get used to this, and he had one."
"I take it after some more drinks, you also shared your story?"
"Yeah."
"Good. You should always have one person who knows."
Jim nodded, and Pike let him relax. Let him dwell. Bones became Bones that day. Jim couldn't remember what other phrase with 'bones' he said, but it reminded him of the first time they met and, well, Bones it was. As much as it clearly annoyed Bones at the beginning, he never asked Jim to stop, and Jim never wanted to. It was hard enough keeping it to McCoy, Doctor McCoy, or Commander McCoy when they were in front of non-senior crew and friends, and he couldn't imagine changing it permanently. It'd be like losing a limb. Losing some small hold he had over Bones' life that wouldn't change even when he left— No. Don't you dare start thinking like that.
"As Una tells me often, you'll start getting wrinkles if you keep making that face." Pike leaned over and gave Jim's face a once-over. "Actually, you already have wrinkles."
Jim let out a small laugh, barely a puff, and pushed his seat back from the table, standing up. "Bones is going to leave me for Spock soon, I'm having a hard time adjusting to the thought."
"How soon is soon?"
"Five, maybe six years."
"That's all?"
"That's not enough years!"
Pike laughed and stood up, slapping Jim on the back. "I'm sure you two will find a way to keep your ships close. And speaking of close, I just messaged McCoy that we're going to pick them up for dinner."
Jim started dwelling again on their way down to the science lab. Reliving what he remembered of their drunken conversation, remembering what it felt like to finally have someone who was unabashedly in his corner. (Pike was in his corner, too, but he didn't know it until later.) Then he started thinking about the conversation he still hadn't had with anyone: how will Jim react when he meets his father for the first time?
Bones knew it the second they walked through the doors. He knew it. Bones knew it from his look, from his greeting, from his everything. It felt like a daze, talks of dinner and Sarek and David having a date sailing right over his head. The only thing that didn't feel like a daze was Bones' face pinching in concentration as he was obviously thinking about something. Thankfully it was only meeting Amanda, and Jim fully believed him. Bones and his dad seemed to be getting along fine, and David clearly knew who Bones was.
But Pike was right: you should always have that one person who knows.
"Let's talk after dinner, just me and you," Jim said, trying and failing to sound casual.
"Sleepover?"
"Yeah."
Jim hated himself for how eager he sounded. How eager he was to keep Bones to himself when he had Pike right there waiting for him. But even that self-hatred was a distraction from what he was really feeling.
Jim had to talk to Bones about meeting George Kirk.