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Jim Kirk’s mind was… tired. He’d heard of Vulcan mind melds, but he’d never known they could turn your whole skull inside out like that.
Our minds, one and together.
Two minds in one brain was too tight a fit, obviously. He knew he had to get out of the chair, had to start everyone working on how to get behind Nero without him knowing they were there. He had to be the captain.
He proudly lived to see you become Captain of the Enterprise.
Dad. George Kirk. Spock was... Spock felt bad about that. It was weird, but Jim knew it—he’d felt it in Spock’s mind. He felt bad about Jim’s dad’s death because he thought it was his fault, but also, he’d known the man. Well, he left the impression he’d met him, anyway.
It was strange that they were both Spock in his head. One, a man who’d lived 150 years and was tortured by what had happened to Vulcan and his mother, who considered Jim a long-lost friend, and the other…
Jim needed to get out of the chair. Get things started. Not just burst into tears or throw something to get rid of all the stuff in his head.
Forgive me. Emotional transference is an effect of the mind-meld.
A hypospray hissed against his neck and Jim looked up at Bones, irritation sparking him finally. Or maybe it was whatever was in that hypospray.
“Something for the pain,” Bones told him, like he’d asked out loud. “And the bruises. He could have crushed your throat, you know?”
Jim sighed, the air hurting as it went through his windpipe. He wondered suddenly what kind of scene they’d actually made, as he’d sliced the poor guy to pieces before Spock tried to slam him through the navigation console. He wondered if Spock was going to be able to forgive him for saying what he said.
I can tell you, I am emotionally compromised. What you must do is get me to show it.
God, and in front of his father, too? That was a crappy thing to do, and Jim was a little appalled at himself for being able to do it so ruthlessly. He tried to remember that it was necessary. Nero wasn’t going to stop. Not unless they stopped him. If they all stood around and stared like everyone had done just half an hour ago…?
“Thanks for stepping in there, by the way,” he remarked sarcastically, trying to shove down the unrelenting sadness. The guilt . His and Spock’s.
“I think we were all so damned surprised he was capable of it,” the doctor admitted. “Never knew a Vulcan could even get mad , much less homicidal.”
So you do feel?
“He’s not some unfeeling zombie, Bones,” Jim replied. Not at all, because zombies were dead inside. Spock… Spock felt joy at seeing him—seeing him , a friend who’d died years ago from Spock’s point of view. He’d mourned as he felt every soul on Vulcan die. All of them. It was…
“Jim?” The frank concern in his friend’s call drew Jim’s attention.
I have been, and always shall be, your friend.
“I’m okay, Bones,” he said quietly. It wasn’t one of his better lies, but they didn’t have time for it not to be true.
“No, you’re not, but when has that ever stopped you?” Bones was frustrated, and Jim got that, but now wasn’t the time. “You’ll eventually tell me what the hell is going on, right?”
“Eventually.” Jim smiled, warmth taking over for some of the cold sadness in his mind. He wondered if Spock and Bones got along in the future. Or the other reality. Whatever.
He rose, looking around at the command crew that stood ready, wondering what the hell he was up to. They were all of them too damn young to do this—even Bones and Scotty. Cadets playing out a real life Kobayashi Maru.
This time, though, he couldn’t cheat.
A trick I learned from an old friend.
He grinned, his mind kicking in and walling off the emotions Spock had shown him, if not the memories themselves. Okay, maybe they could cheat a little.
“All right, people,” he said, energy flowing through him as the past and the future fell away. “Let’s get to work. We need answers, now.”
Because God knew, they weren’t going to have time to look for them once they caught up to this guy.
*******
the end