Archive of Our Own

The warp core hums. Purrs like a happy kitten. It’s back in its place, the reactor chamber sealed. The ship is safe. The crew is safe.

Kirk breathes in, breathes out. The radiation is around him and inside him. But the crew is safe because of him. Because of his sacrifice. He leans against the wall, takes a good look at the Enterprise because hell, even on the inside, she’s beautiful. White with a little blue. Shiny and clean.

The tips of Kirk’s fingers tingle. It’s not much longer now. He knows, because he’s done this before. Spock isn’t here this time. But he’ll be alright. Spock is safe. The crew is safe. The radioactive core turning his insides into mush-

There’s a crackling behind him. Black particles seeping in through the walls. This isn’t right. This wasn’t here last time. It’s catching up to him but he can’t think, can’t breathe. The particles swarm towards him, cloud around him, his feet, his hands. Scrambling for an exit but there isn’t one. The chamber is sealed, he thinks. Keeping the radiation in. Keeping the abronath in. Keeping Kirk in. Chills of relief; the ship is safe. The crew is safe. As long as he’s in here, they’ll be okay. Without him, they’ll be okay.

Without warning, the wall Kirk is leaning on blinks out of existence. And he’s tumbling through space. And the ship is safe. The crew is safe. He’s dying. But the ship is safe. The crew is safe. So nothing else matters. And he’s calm.

James T. Kirk throws off his covers like they’re on fire, heaving air like it’s the last time he’ll ever breathe. There’s no radiation. No abronath. No vast expanse of space, except the one outside the firm, unchanging hull of the Enterprise.

The captain makes his coffee black this morning, just because.

“Doctor.” McCoy, killing time in the medbay, is a little surprised to hear that voice. Save a man’s life once and now he’s checking up on you all the damn time? It could be worse, Bones thinks. Spock isn’t that bad, but of course he won’t say it to his face. Not yet.

“Have you seen the captain anywhere?” Figures. He’s not even around for a chat.

“Still asleep, I think. Man needs more coffee. An energy drink. Something. Captain’s job isn’t exactly to sleep the day away.” He says it with a wry smile, but Spock’s forehead creases. Concern?

Bones shoots the Vulcan a look. “You don’t really think something’s wrong-”

Spock’s look back is not reassuring. Bones has no idea what to do- maybe Jim’s staying up late, reading magazines, thinking about missions? Everyone sleeps in sometimes. For days at a time. For weeks at a time. Ever since they left Yorktown? Well-

“Sulu, it’s all good, I found them!” There’s a shout down the hallway leading up to the medbay. Bones lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. Hell of a conversation, that was. Hardly three words about the man and he appears, in “speak of the devil” fashion.

“Bones.” Kirk strides through the doorway uninvited, gives him a nod. “Spock- what are you doing here?” He looks to the doctor and the Vulcan and back, patting his right side symbolically. “Still bothering you?”

“He’s fine, Jim.” Alright, the doctor didn’t exactly intend for the remark to come out like that. Kirk raises his eyebrows. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone! Just don’t get up to anything fun without me.”

Oh my God, Bones thinks, he definitely just winked. The doctor can feel his face heating up, turns away from Spock so he won’t notice. Despite the lack of sleep clear on the captain’s face, the man has lost none of his wit or his charm, annoyingly enough. But hell if he doesn’t look like he got run over- purple and red under his eyes, hair sticking up at odd angles, Starfleet shirt a bit wrinkled, as if he was still asleep when he put it on. Mug of black coffee in his hand, almost empty.

Is he overthinking this? Maybe he’s overthinking everything. Maybe Jim is fine. Should he talk to Spock about it? Would he worry this much if it was anyone other than Jim? No- not going to think about that one. Not today.

When he looks up from the table he was drumming his fingers on, Spock is gone anyway. Maybe that’s for the best? The doctor turns to shelves of bottles, resumes the alphabetization process he began the day before.

“Right, so-” Kirk’s finger hovers in the air, pointing in a vague direction. “There’s a binary star system outside the nebula Starfleet wants us to check out. Apparently we’re the closest ship, there’s a few planets with possible intelligent life.” He looks around the cabin at the crew’s faces. “I know, not the most exciting thing we’ve seen in three and a half years. But it could be worse! No distress signal, no Krall, no…” He throws up his hands. “Well, who knows!”

“Yeah, who knows? Maybe the atmosphere is radioactive and everything on the planet is hungry for man-flesh.” Bones, loitering on the bridge again and unamused, nods towards Spock apologetically. “And Vulcan-flesh.”

The captain smirks, stands up from his chair with a stretch, palms reaching to the ceiling. “Then it won’t be boring! Now, uh, we can leave in a minute.” He holds up his empty coffee glass. “Coffee break.”

There’s a weird silence on the bridge as he leaves. Uhura breaks it with a hissing whisper, spinning around in her chair, the expression on her face a straight amalgamation of worry and accusation. “Why does Jim look like someone gave him two black eyes when he was sleeping?”

Spock answers promptly, though not briefly. “The doctor and I discussed this earlier. We believe our captain may be-”

Bones, tired of meandering around corners, cuts him off. “He’s hardly sleeping.” He’s jumping to conclusions, he knows, but how else is anything going to get done about it? He’s sure he’s overreacting, but this is Jim we’re talking about. Jim would tuck him in at night if he thought he had trouble falling asleep. “The man stays up all night because he can’t sleep, then stays in bed all morning when he finally gets a wink.”

Chekov asks what everyone else is thinking. “Why?”

The doctor throws his hands in the air in defeat. “Hell if I know! He could being staying up for hours playing games and learning how to juggle.” Spock raises his eyebrows at this, opens his mouth as if he has something to say, something like Since when has the captain known how to juggle?

He decides against it.

Kirk is taking his dear sweet time making coffee.

What was with the crew’s weird looks? He stirs his coffee with a finger, realizes it’s pretty fucking hot, bites his lip to keep from squealing. Dumps cream and sugar in it by the metaphorical bucket load because now he’s already awake and coherent, he doesn’t need to suffer through another mug of black coffee. He wants to gag just thinking about it.

Is his hair okay? Well, no, not really. It’s sticking up like he got electrocuted, he realizes as he runs a hand through it to smooth it down. Was that what they looked so concerned about? Bones in particular kept avoiding his gaze. And Spock. Spock never acts weird!

Kirk shuffles to the nearest bathroom, looks in the mirror, taps on it to make sure it’s really a mirror because...yikes. Did he get assaulted in his sleep? He might as well have two black eyes. Granted he slept for an hour at the most but he feels fine, after a cup of coffee or two cups or maybe more. He lost count. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat around in bed all that time, rubbing his eyes and trying to convince himself that he’s real and he’s okay and the Enterprise isn’t dissolving and all his fingers and toes are intact and normally colored and he isn’t dying of radiation exposure.

The captain has started to accept these things as part of his daily routine. It’s almost weird that he still does it. He’s had that dream for what, a few weeks? Ever since they left Yorktown? There’s a knocking at the bathroom door, so he apologizes, steps out the door (cup in coffee in hand) with barely a glance at the confused shipmate’s expression.

He figures he should be used to the dreams by now. It’s not as if they ever end any differently. Some things change sometimes, sure, but the ending is always the same. A hatch opens. An airlock opens. A wall disappears. The floor disappears. He’s in space, he’s falling. Usually it’s the airlock in Yorktown. He sees Krall fall through, feels himself being pulled in, and Spock and Bones never appear, and he’s still falling, and there’s no one coming. And he wakes up.

Kirk suddenly becomes acutely aware he’s standing in the middle of the hallway zoning out.

No time for that. He’s got a star system to explore.

And this coffee somehow still tastes like shit.

There’s a few planets orbiting the star system, only one that supports life, but there’s a lot of it. The place is lush, green, wet; it’s as if the rainforests of Earth covered an entire planet. There’s life, but no architecture, nothing that suggests intelligence, so after a day of orbit the Enterprise gets the go-ahead from Starfleet to beam to the surface.

“It’ll be fun! We’ll wear spacesuits at least until we test the atmosphere up close, it’s fine. Finding new things that can kill you is half the fun.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jim, the place’s sopping wet and humid and disgusting. Not to even mention what’s on it. If we run into a spider the size of the Enterprise, you’re getting fed to it first.”

Kirk grins at that line. “Of course.” Bones just rolls his eyes, doesn’t stop rolling his eyes at his cheeky captain until they’re beamed onto the surface of the alien planet.

“For fuck’s sake.” The doctor minces no words over the comms. Though their suits protect them from the rain (which, the crew determined fairly quickly, is just water after all), there’s no protection from the mud their boots are steadily sinking into. After minutes of quiet and determined trudging through the mud, there’s a snickering sound from the suit comms; it’s Kirk, giggling to himself at the squelching sound of the boots on the muddy forest floor.

“Good God, man, are you five?”

Sulu laughs, turns it into a fake-sounding cough quickly. Makes eye contact with Chekov who in turn almost busts a lung trying to hold his laughter in.

“No, sir.” Kirk turns to Bones and, upon making eye contact, sticks his tongue out in true five-year-old fashion.

It’s Chekov who has the idea to camp out. It’ll be fun, Sulu and Kirk agree. Even Spock and Uhura are on board with some coaxing. Bones, standing in the rain like a petulant teenager, watches as they set up tents (“They’re definitely waterproof, old man, don’t worry”), grimaces as he lays down in one and feels a lot like he’s being swallowed into the ground. (“You’re not, get up, it’s fine!”)

As far as life forms, there’s a lot of vegetation, not much else they can see. Kirk writes as much in his captain’s log, typing it out rather than recording audio. Too much noise, between his crew and the rain and the forest creatures chirping and trilling. They haven’t seen anything flying overhead, but- small life forms, maybe? Insects, crawling on the undersides of leaves? Something underground, travelling through the mud? If it would stop raining for a bit, Jim thinks, it would be a nice vacation spot.

The crew is fidgety as the night goes on. They tell jokes, play games around a fire, but as the night winds down they’re shooting looks at each other, glancing at Kirk out of the corner of their eyes. Kirk notices Bones and Spock having whole discussions with only their eyes (and eyebrows). There’s a few tents, not one for each person- Uhura and Sulu share one, then Scotty and Chekov in another, then Spock, Kirk, and McCoy with the biggest tent. The captain gets the feeling his tent mates aren’t telling him something, and the feeling only grows as the other members of the crew retire to their own tents and settle down to sleep.

The rain is pretty soothing, really, Kirk thinks. He’s not on the Enterprise. Maybe he can get some sleep this time. Spock and McCoy, laying next to each other with Bones in the middle and Jim on the other end, are faking sleep. Kirk can tell that much. But hey. He’s not about to intrude. He might as well get to sleep and give them some privacy.

When Kirk opens his eyes, his crew is gone. He sits up, shrugs off his sheets, gets to his feet. Did he really sleep that late?

Something feels wrong. But the captain can’t put his finger on it. He unzips the tent, ducks down and steps outside-

Something is definitely wrong. He’s in the radioactive chamber housing the warp core. He’s been here before. But the core isn’t broken or out of place this time. There’s been a mistake. He turns around, feels like there should be something behind him. A tent? But there’s nothing there.

There’s no one with him. Which means- his heart rate slows a little- the ship is safe. The crew is safe. The warp core is functioning, the crew are all on the bridge or helping around the ship, they’re fine, they’ll all be okay. Except him. But it’s okay. He fixed it, right? Why else would he be in there? He walks up to the core again. He must have missed something. Why is he there? What does he have to do?

He reaches up to the core with a trembling hand.

It explodes.

Black dust fills the room. It’s not just dust, it’s the particles of the abronath and they fill the room until it’s darker than a night with no stars. Kirk can’t feel his feet. He wants to scream, but what good would it do? Better to stay where he is. The core is breaking down but they’ll know. They’ll get out. The escape pods. The crew is safe. The crew will be safe. The floor crumbles and dissolves beneath his feet. Before he can reach out for something, anything to hold on to-

The captain bolts upright with a sharp inhale. Grabs at his hands, his face, everything just to make sure it’s all still there.

Bones and Spock are still asleep next to him. But are they, really? Kirk pinches himself, hard, bites his tongue. It’s real. They’re real. It’s fine.

Bones rolls over, blinks sleep out of his eyes. “Jim?”
Fuck, Kirk thinks. He didn’t mean to wake the doctor up. “Bones, go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Dunno.”

To Jim’s surprise, Bones sits up, rubs his left eye and gets quietly to his feet. Doesn’t want to wake up Spock. Wordlessly, the unshaven man ducks out of the tent and beckons for Kirk to follow.

It’s light out- with two suns, Kirk thinks, that’s not surprising. It’s not raining, which is surprising, but there’s still humidity in the atmosphere that makes the air feel a little oppressive.

“What’s going on with you, Jim?” Bones hisses it- mostly to not wake the rest of the crew, Kirk figures. But there’s something else. He sounds worried, in an accusatory way. It’s in such typical contradictory McCoy fashion that Jim almost laughs.

The captain shrugs. Everyone has nightmares, there’s nothing wrong with him. He’ll get over it. One night, Kirk knows, he’ll sleep for ten hours, wake up looking great and feeling great and the whole nightmare nonsense will be behind him. He’s just holding out for the one night.

“Nothing’s going on with me, Bones. I had a weird dream.” As if he can bullshit Bones that easily. The man knows him too well. “I’ve been having weird dreams. It’s- since we left Yorktown.” He can’t meet Bones’s eyes, because he knows what’s coming. Why didn’t you tell me, he hears the doctor’s voice in his head ask, damn it Jim, I’m your friend, you can tell me these things.

The real Bones, not in Jim’s head, is quiet in comparison. Inquisitive but not prying. “What kind of weird do you mean?”

“Fucked up kind of weird! I’m in the warp core room, right, the one with the radiation, and it’s the same as last time except Spock isn’t on the other side, no one’s there, and then the abronath stuff, the black particles- you never got to see it, did you? It shows up out of nowhere and I still never realize it’s a dream- and that gets everywhere and then the floor just- disappears. And I’m falling. But-” He’s pacing, trying to remember as much as he can. It’s weird, talking about it like this, because it never feels fucked up or wrong when he wakes up but the captain is looking at Bones’s face now and he looks like what Jim is describing is fucked up and wrong.

And Kirk is thinking for the first time that maybe it is wrong, maybe something’s not right. “I’m not even that mad. Or scared. I’m just glad you’re all okay. The crew. You, and Spock, Sulu, Chekov, Scotty...everyone. And I’m falling, but you and Spock never show up on that craft. And then I wake up. I die, but- everyone else is safe. It’s always the same.” He shrugs, plays nonchalance. He feels mostly nonchalance. It’s only Bones whose forehead is creased in concern- or, Kirk thinks again, maybe that’s just his face.

“Jim,” he sounds- if Kirk isn’t imagining things- soft. Tender. Not like Bones. Not like a grumpy old man. “If there’s anything I can do-”

Kirk doesn’t even know what there is to do. Hell, he only just realized something was wrong- but he has to say something. “Just be here, right? Keep doing what you’re doing.” He’s a little sheepish, but he gives Bones a cheesy smile. Just to convince him that he’s being serious. The man has never steered him wrong before- he’s picked him up at bars during the Academy years, stayed up with him on boring nights on the Enterprise, listened to him ramble on about his dad…

“Been more than three years since the Academy. We’re doing pretty damn well, kid.”

“And you never even wanted to join. And I really did think you were going to throw up on me!”

“If I never joined, where would you be?”

“Not on the Enterprise, that’s for sure. You were the one who smuggled me in.”

Bones shook his head. “A hell of a hassle, that was. Like trying to smuggle a thousand tribbles into a broom closet.”

Kirk is amazed at the sheer obscurity of the metaphor. “How was I anything like that?”

“Ever try to carry a thousand tribbles at once?”

Spock keeps giving Kirk looks. Even when they’ve packed up and are beamed safely back aboard the Enterprise, the Vulcan’s gaze feels like it’s burning holes straight into the captain’s brain. Did Bones tell him anything? No, he wouldn’t. They hardly even tolerated each other until recently. Maybe it’s what Bones didn’t tell him, the answers Bones got but Spock didn’t. Kirk realizes slowly that Spock must have woken up too, awoken by Kirk’s abrupt start, must have had questions, must still have questions that haven’t been answered. Maybe is looking for a chance to ask.

Jim is intercepted in the hallway leading to his quarters. “Jim, if I could have a minute,”

“Yeah, Spock, what do you need?”

With no hesitation, the Vulcan pulls a flask out of his pocket, presents it to Kirk. “Vulcan ale. A sip before bed should rid you of any nightmares. Just…” He hesitates, something a bit out of character, Kirk thinks. “It’d be best not to overdo it.”

“Spock…” He doesn’t really know what to say. Obviously Spock figured out about the nightmares. How could he not? Even without Bones telling the Vulcan anything, it’s not as if Jim is subtle, waking up in a near-panic, throwing his sheets off and gulping air like he’s dying.

“Thanks, Spock. Really. It means a lot, that you want to help.” He tries his best to sound as sincere as he feels, because really, it will mean a lot if it works. The idea of one night of sleep, all the way through, is more tantalizing than Kirk thought it would be.

“My pleasure, Jim. That’s what friends are for.” He looks into Kirk’s eyes and they stay there for a minute, calm in each other’s gaze. Then- bridge to Kirk, come in, captain rings out through the hallway and Kirk nods, takes off past Spock, brushes his shoulder as he walks by. It’s deliberate, and Spock knows it.

Kirk finishes off his report for the Federation while lounging sideways in the captain’s chair, legs dangling off the armrest. There’s not much to report; while it rains a lot, it doesn’t always rain. Maybe there’s seasons. It’s light out for most of the day, but not all of it. The ground is barely solid. The gravity is like Earth’s, but maybe a little lesser. There’s an abundance of plant life, sounds in the air that sound a lot like other life forms, but nothing big enough to make a blip on the radar. He slips in a note about the planet being a great vacation spot if you don’t mind mud.

The captain intercepts McCoy and Spock on his way back to his quarters. Tells Spock about the dreams in depth. Makes a request. Sheepishly. Tentatively. Asks them to spend the night in his room.

No playing around, James clarifies. He’s just talking sleep. He knows he still had the nightmare next to them in the tent but that’s not...he hesitates.

“Look, I just need you guys close.” There’s no answer at first. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I’m not going to make you. And- it’s not going to be a habit. Just tonight. Just to see if it works.”

He’s tired of waiting for the nightmares to go away by themselves. Starts to explain that, but gets cut off-

“Are you kidding me? Of course I’ll do it.” Bones doesn’t think twice, just steps forward, puts a hand on Kirk’s shoulder decisively. Spock, behind him, nods in silent agreement. And he smiles. Really smiles.

Looking at Spock, Kirk is for a minute unsure. What about Uhura? Well- they are still separate. Friends, kind to each other, but separate. Not an item. Which means Spock is single, and- okay, Kirk has to remind himself, they’re just sleeping. He was the one to make that rule in the first place.

Kirk’s bed is big, simple, but comfortable. Fit for a captain. The Enterprise, hovering in orbit, hums quietly. Reassuringly.

Bones and Spock, Kirk realizes, are more comfortable with each other than he thought. How long ago was it that one called the other a green-blooded hobgoblin? Now they’re laying in Kirk’s bed, waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth, locking fingers and making idle conversation. About the ship. About the crew. Bones needs a haircut. Spock needs to finally throw out one of his old, worn Starfleet uniforms.

The ship is a comfortable temperature, and Kirk takes his shirt off, throws it on the floor. He knows he has at least two eyes on him, not in a hungry way, in appreciation. Bones shrugs off his shirt and drops it on the floor. Spock leaves his own, nods; he’s plenty comfortable. The atmosphere has lost all awkwardness, faded to comfort. Sliding into bed between the two, Kirk looks around, smiles, gets smiles back. The stars outside the window wink and sparkle.

In the dark, the captain can feel himself drifting off. He’s scared, now. What if it doesn’t work? What if he wakes up shaking, struggling for air? What if he never gets a good night’s sleep again?

“Relax,” Bones mumbles, barely a whisper, and Kirk exhales. He doesn’t know how Bones knew, but it doesn’t matter. Spock runs his hand down Kirk’s arm under the covers until he finds his hand. Bones runs a gentle hand through Kirk’s hair. It’s the last thing the captain feels before he falls asleep.

Pancakes?

James T. Kirk blinks sleep out of his eyes. McCoy and Spock are gone- how long have they been gone? This is real, right? He pinches himself and yeah, definitely real.

Kirk smells pancakes. Unmistakeably.

“Captain Kirk!” It’s Chekov, waving down the hallway at him as he leaves his room equipped with clean clothes and a confused expression. “You’re awake!” He beckons vaguely toward the bridge, takes off running that way, leaving Kirk in his dust. Jim feels like he has cotton balls in his brain- what time is it? Has he ever slept that much before? He can’t believe that actually worked, wonders if he has to make it a habit, because he really does want to-

The bridge door opens quietly, then- pancakes. Almost half the crew is in the room, others entering and leaving from the door Kirk just walked through, carrying paper plates. Bones is grinning at the other side of the room, a shit-eating grin that tells Kirk the whole thing was his idea. “Bones, you are a child!”

“Had a nice sleep, captain?”

He does owe the doctor one there. “Of course. How couldn’t I?” Spock is on the other side of the room, moves towards the two, touches Jim’s shoulder as he does.

“Jim. There are pancakes in the mess hall if you’re interested. Though I would advise you not to eat near the ship’s equipment here in the bridge, or we’ll be camping out longer than originally planned.” Kirk grins, nods, pats Spock on the shoulder and leaves his hand in the spot to linger. “Loud and clear, Commander Spock.”

Over breakfast, Kirk doesn’t tell Spock and McCoy the nightmares didn’t come back. He knows he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t tell them he’s afraid they’ll come back if the two don’t stay with him. He knows he doesn’t have to. On their day off, with no mission from Starfleet and nowhere important to go, the three are a unit, sitting in the medbay telling stories about their childhood and about their plans for the future. About what they want to find over the next less-than-two years. About their favorite thing they’ve found so far. About each other.

Bones is obsessed with how Jim’s eyes look when they catch light. Says they remind him of the sky. Spock gently reminds him that the sky doesn’t look like that on every planet- it’s orange on Venus- and Kirk almost sprays his drink out of his nose laughing. Bones turns deep red, but he can’t help smiling.

Spock wishes he acknowledged the doctor earlier on. To only start really getting to know each other after three, three and a half years- it’s a shame, he says. And despite all the contempt Bones has thrown at him over the years, the man looks truly thankful at the Vulcan’s words.

Kirk knew Bones was special when he saw him on the way to the Academy. Love at first sight? Maybe not, but- it was something. And Spock- though Kirk still can feel the punch the Vulcan landed on him all those years ago, square in his jaw, he’s grateful for their friendship. There’s no one else he would have rather died beside, the captain says with a smile, and Spock feels a hard lump form in his throat.

The captain knows when he wakes up tomorrow, Starfleet will have another mission for him. It might be dangerous. It might be boring. He might have to leave his crew behind, just for a little while. So he doesn’t close his eyes right away as he settles in the bed.

Bones is snoring gently, his slightly-too-long hair falling over his face. Spock is silent, with just the rise and fall of his chest to show he’s alive, but the rhythm is soothing. Kirk can’t help but yawn.

If he died, Jim used to think, it would be fine. As long as the ship was safe. As long as the crew was safe. He would sacrifice himself for them in an instant.

Now, in his bed, surrounded by warmth- he isn’t sure. If he dies- the ship will be safe. The crew will be safe. But they won’t be happy.

The Enterprise hums. Purrs like a happy kitten.

Jim Kirk doesn’t think about sacrificing himself anymore. His father died for his crew. Hell, Kirk already died for his crew once.

For now, he decides, he’s going to stay right where he is.