Chapter 8: The Rescue of Your Heart and Mine

A ray of sunlight not muted by Earth's ozone layer shined into the sleek black shuttle as it flew closer and closer to Earth. Earth was a hazy orb of greens, blues and browns all swirling around each other. It was hard to believe millions of people took up residence on the green blobs nestled between the soft blues. From where the shuttle craft flew there was no identifying features only slashes of color, almost like an artist angry with their work and spraying paint over an already finished canvas.

"Entering into Earth's atmosphere, sirs," the pilot called from the front of the small spacecraft the two senior members of the Enterprise had used to get off their ship discretely.

"Dr. McCoy," the Vulcan said calmly to the brooding man beside him. When the man gave no response he tried his name again, louder. Only then did the doctor look over to the Vulcan. "We are close." He said. McCoy nodded turning back to the window silently.

The doctor was lost in thought, too quiet and eyes clouded. Much like he had been since the Captain's sudden departure and even more sudden resignation. Leonard stared out the view window and couldn't find it in himself to be afraid of the space that was beyond the four inch thick plastic glass. He was tired. Angry. But really more angry than tired. It had been almost a month and a half – really two months since he had been called to the Captain's ready room only to be told the Captain himself was gone from the ship. Leaving without a goodbye and resigning his captaincy with no pre-notion as to why he was leaving and no thought as to inform Leonard – his best goddamn friend – that he was jumping ship.

"Something doesn't feel right about this whole thing." Pike had admitted a few weeks ago when he'd commed them to tell them that Jim was in the hospital in Riverside, Iowa though, he didn't know why. Frank, Jim's step father was there with him refusing to give Pike any details at all.

Jim was in the hospital, Leonard had thought to himself. Of course he was. The kid couldn't keep himself safe to save his life. Leonard had then berated himself for how stupid that had sounded even in his own head.

They had just gotten done with their mission when Pike called. A mission that would have gone a lot smoother were the Captain there to lead it. Damn natives and their stupid traditions of honoring leadership.

"We would like to speak with the Captain and only the captain." The head native had said looking at Spock with disgust.

"The Captain is not available. For the time being I am Acting Captain Spock."

"Nonsense. We will speak with only Captain Kirk."

"Indeed however he is not here you can only speak with me."

"Then we shall not negotiate."

It had gone on for a week and a half before Spock could convince the native Shamen to talk to him about trade agreements.

"Is that the reason you have only asked myself and Doctor McCoy in for this conference instead of the entire bridge crew?" Spock had asked Admiral Pike who nodded his head on the view screen.

"It's not that I don't trust the crew, Mister Spock, but something had to happen to make the kid run." Spock had inclined his head in agreement. It was then they had decided how to get the Enterprise back to Earth with raising any red flags. The ship needed some upgrades – Scotty had sure made that known ever since their last shore leave – so it wouldn't raise any suspicions as to why they were going back to Terra. It had been agreed upon that when they settled into Earth's orbit Admiral Pike would comm Captain Spock on the Bridge to ask him and Doctor McCoy to come down dirtside for a debrief on their next mission that was, as Pike said, "Only a milk run but the Amorality wants to see you nonetheless." It was all bullshit of course but they needed some way to get the two officers to the planet without rousing any suspicion. Though who they were suspicious of Leonard still wasn't sure. Only Jim could answer that.

Leonard McCoy scoffed at the window as they got lower and lower towards the planet. He would never deny that he was angry, furious even. He and Jim were... were something. Something he couldn't even name and the kid had just run off and left. Left the ship, left the crew. Left him...

"We will bring the Captain back," Spock murmured close to Leonard's ear making him jump slightly. Leonard nodded looking at the Vulcan and seeing real determination in his eye.

Yes. They would find Jim and bring him home.

Or punch him in the face.

Either was fine with Leonard at the moment.

-o0o-

The afternoon sunlight was almost too hot as its rays beat down on Jim's back and neck. He wore no shirt and faded jeans with boots as he used all of his strength to hammer down on the older nails on the roof of the barn. Sweat rolled down the tip of his nose and back of his neck making him shiver but he ignored it in favor of fixing another board on the old roof. Jim was perched precariously but sturdy on a ladder latched to the barn and dug into the grassy ground beneath him.

"Jim! Take a break!" Someone yelled from below. Jim, hand in the air ready and willing to loose himself in the mind numbing work of roof repair, stilled looking down. Frank stared up at him with hands on his hips and dirt on his shirt. If it had been a week ago Jim would have scoffed and bellowed something over his shoulder about needing to just finish up. But, now things were different. He didn't try to hurry up and get everything done. There was always tomorrow.

It had been two weeks and three days since he'd come home from the hospital. He'd spent the first three days in bed slumbering like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her kiss to wake. He'd been woken up several times at even intervals by Frank and forced to eat, drink, or use the bathroom. Jim couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so deeply and peacefully – probably before he went to Tarsus.

On the third day Jim had felt rejuvenated and only a little confused as he opened his eyes to see his bedroom and not his captain's quarters. It hurt, of course it always hurt. His heart gave a squeeze in his chest and the back of his throat got thick making it hard to breath. He just sat there for a minute that turned into two minutes which morphed into five then fifteen and thirty and all of the sudden Jim had heard a loud bang and a curse and he found himself sitting on his bed staring at the wall for an hour and a half. He'd shaken himself, scolded himself.

Get it together, Jim.

Then he'd picked himself up and made to get dressed in proper clothes, take a shower and brush the fur from his teeth. Jim had only let himself shower until his mind had started to wonder and he'd quickly switched the temperature from comfortable to freezing cold to zap himself out of whatever melancholy pity-party he had about fallen into. He had jumped from the shower and toweled off and pulled on warn jeans and a dirty shirt. He had then made his way down the steps skipping the third and eighth step out of habit of not wanting to hear the creak-cracking of the old wood then walked into the kitchen. Frank sat with a bowl of milk with the remnants of cereal in front of him and a PADD in his other hand. Jim had sat at the table across from the older man intending to get his bearings before scowering the kitchen for food and something to drink but then Frank spoke.

"Pike called." That was all he said not even looking away from what he was reading on his device.

Jim's heart had dropped again as he thought of the old man who was like another father to him and who had left high and dry with no goodbye and a hastily written resignation letter. It had been his only choice if he wanted his crew – Hell, his family – to stay safe. But all the same it hurt. It was an all-consuming hurt that left him feeling empty and forgotten. Unless and beaten.

"I didn't answer but he left a message. You could listen if you want."

"No," Jim said too fast with a bite to his voice. Frank didn't react however and instead flicked the PADD's screen with his thumb to the next page. The two sat in silence for a few more minutes before the older man got up, bowl of milk still sitting on the table and walked to the fridge. He grabbed a few things from there and something from the cupboard before coming back and placing an empty bowl in front of Jim's face with a spoon to his right and milk and some type of sugary cereal to his left.

"Eat. When you get done we'll get on outside and see what you can do." Then he turned back to his morning paper on his PADD. Jim regarded the food with dumbstruck eyes. Sure Frank had helped him the past few days bringing him things to eat and ordering him to drink but Jim had been mostly out of it for all that time. This was the first time that Jim had seen the old man at work helping him and it was almost as stunning as when he's shown up at the hospital with new clothes in toe.

So, with nothing better to do, Jim ate.

When he was finished and the dishes were put away Frank led Jim outside through their mud room where he pointed to a pair of boots for the younger man to use then continued out the door. They walked the short distance to the old rickety barn in relative silence. When they entered Jim felt a wave of nostalgia hit him like a brick wall. He haven't been in the barn since he'd gotten that call from Lynn to come see her all those years ago. The barn used to be his safe haven where he hid when the monsters or Frank got too loud during the night. It was where his father's cherry red corvette used to rest before he had driven it off that cliff and into the quarry. There was still an empty spot in the back of the large barn where the car would have sat. A silent homage.

The barn smelled the same and Jim almost let himself smile. Almost. Out of everything that had changed in his life from Tarsus and Pike to Starfleet and the planets beyond some things remained a constant and that was the smell of his old barn. Straw layered the ground with piles of it at the corners and mounds of hay high enough to reach the ceiling stacked at the far end. Jim knew Frank sold the hay to farmers all along their road for extra money. Dust billowed and shined in the branches of light that shown through the holes in the roof making Jim cringe at the thought of what he was breathing in but then he ignored it as Frank led him to the other side of the barn.

"Today I'll have you mowing the back corner near the corn field that we ain't usin' this summer." Jim nodded somewhat annoyed he couldn't get his hands dirty fixing something or tinkering with one of the tractors. "An don't gimme that look yer still looking shitty from bein' in the hospital so I'mma give you some easy shit to do ta get ya back on yer feet, savvy?"

Jim felt a small smile lift across his face at Frank's word choice and nodded. The old man pulled a tarp off of one of his lawn mowers that had a chair to sit on while he moved then patted it like the machine was one of his old beauties. Frank, muscles heaving and a sweat stain already under his arms mounted the large mower. Jim was confused, didn't Frank say he'd be doing the mowing? The man situated himself on his ride and procured the keys from his dusty jeans. He inserted the keys and Jim waited for the mower to spur to life then frowned when it only puttered a few times before going out completely like a jerk that made Frank jump a little.

"Well would ya look at that? Seems like this thing needs a bit of work. You can fix 'er up, right Jim?" Frank swung his leg then jumped off the large grass cutter landing beside Jim.

The blonde haired man looked at Frank with a skeptical eye. "I'll need some–"

"Here's some tools," Frank interrupted bending over one of the many a benches beside him to procure a full tool box that was large and no doubt heavy holding all of the tools he would need. He set it down at Jim's feet then turned waving and walking away.

"I'll be on the roof if you need me."

And he was gone with Jim staring after him, a look of surprise on his face. The surprise only lasted for so long until he was on his back under the mower with grease on his forehead and his hands inside the belly of the machine. He had a smirk on his face as his mind imagined the mower he worked on was really his beautiful metal lady.

Fixing the mower turned into fixing the tractor which morphed into tinkering with the planter that then turned into helping Frank fix a hole in the roof which lead Jim to where he was now, two weeks later, looking down at Frank with sweat in his eyes.

"Don't gimme that one more minute bullshit and get your ass down here. I made Iced Tea." The old man yelled to which Jim actually laughed. A real genuine laugh that bubbled from his chest and felt right coming out of his mouth. He then nodded setting his tools inside the pouch that slung off his waist and climbed down the ladder. He clambered down making sure to plant each and every foot so as not to fall... again.

I fall one time and suddenly Frank doesn't trust me to climb up the ladder without being hooked to the thing. Jim grumbled halfheartedly. He was thankful though that their ladder could dig itself into the ground and attach itself to the barn, or any surface really. It made Jim shudder to think about the older models of ladders that were just that – a ladder. With really nothing except the building to lean itself against. Thank god for new technology.

"You made Iced Tea?" Jim asked once he'd shimmied himself to the ground and wiped the sweat from his face. "You'll make a great housewife someday."

Frank threw him a cloth to which Jim graciously took to pat at the sweat on his face and bare chest. The old man then shook his head turning away indicating Jim to follow into the house. They entered through the mud room, Jim relishing in the cool air conditioning making goose pimples rise on his arms. True to his word Frank had made a batch of fresh Iced Tea, not the replicated stuff Jim used to drink during his time at the Academy but real honest-to-God tea that was brown rust colored but oh so sweet and cold on his parched throat.

"I should have the roof finished by Thursday," Jim said after the two had sat in silence for a time drinking their tea and feeling the cool house around them. Frank nodded taking another long sip. "I think the fence in the back needs mending before those deer eat all the corn."

"If it's this hot tomorrow I'm not sure I'll be able to work very long," Jim murmured into his glass. Frank inclined his head in understanding.

"It's supposed to rain."

Together the two sat for a time just talking of random things until their tea was finished and their break over. Jim was the first to stand soon followed by Frank as they made their way back outside into the heat of the day. With a few strides Jim walked to the ladder and hooked himself securely and Frank wandered into the barn to do the chores he needed done. When Jim was back on the roof placing nails and hammering in wood he let his mind wander.

Is this really what he wanted to do for the rest of his life? Fix things around the farm and tinker on tractors?

No.

But would he force himself to stay in order for his crew to remain alive?

Yes.

To ensure that his family – Spock, Uhura, Scotty, Chekov and Sulu remained unharmed would he stay here for the rest of his life?

Hell yes.

To make sure that Bones stayed safe?

Damn straight.

So Jim, the youngest Captain in Starfleet history, continued on with hammering.

-o0o-

The sunlight turned to an orange red color as it waned and waxed, dwindling as its heat and force faded giving away to the night sky. Jim had just finished with the last of the wooden boards he could secure to the roof for the night by the time a cool gust of wind blew him sideways and he quickly clung to the ladder. He looked up at the sky remembering the heat of the day and was surprised to see thick heavy clouds on the horizon. He still had a good twenty minutes or so by the look of the clouds but the impending storm was soon to be upon him. It was time to go inside.

"Jim!" Frank yelled from below. Jim looked down. The wind had begun again grabbing at his jeans and making him shiver as the last remnants of sweat dried on his skin. He should have warn a shirt. "We need to tarp it so the rain doesn't get into the barn!"

Jim yelled his okay then waited for the man to toss up the tarp. They could use a stasis field to act as a temporary shield between the rain and rooftop but Frank was old fashioned and Jim didn't mind the work. Anything to keep his thoughts away if only for a bit longer. When the large folded and tied blue tarp was throw up Jim caught it then crawled over the ladder and up the roof to the places not yet fixed. He was slow and careful as the wind threatened to knock him over. He wasn't always a leap before looking kind of guy or at least he would like to think he wasn't. He was slow and precise as he moved careful not to be pushed over or, God forbid, fall through the roof. He didn't have Bones here to piece him back together anymore.

Bones...

Not the time, Jim! He scolded himself focusing on his work. By the time he'd nailed down the tarp the wind had picked up three fold and he didn't feel comfortable on the rooftop anymore. His thoughts on the storm being a good twenty minutes away were proven false as lighting lit the sky under the dense black clouds moving overhead.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered to himself maneuvering his body over to the ladder. Falling off of his barn at his childhood home is not how he wanted to die.

"Come on!" Frank yelled from somewhere over the howling wind and Jim moved faster. He got to the ladder just as the first drops of rain hit him. He severely wished he had a shirt on as another large drop hit him on his forehead with more starting to pepper his back. Quickly but still not wanting to fall, Jim made his way to the ground letting out a quick breathe when he reached solid dirt. He unhooked the ladder to bring back into the barn but Frank yelled for him to leave it. Rain started to pelt his skin. It started fast and was a downpour.

"Get inside!"

"What about the tractor?" Jim had to scream over the force of the rain. Frank, who had been standing not ten feet from him turned sharply, Jim thought he heard a curse but wasn't sure. He stood there for only a moment longer before he swore under his breath thinking about their new tractor out in the field. With all this rain it would get stuck and they'd never have a change to get it out without destroying the crops that had been planted a few weeks ago. The tractor would sink into the mud and fertile soil and stick.

Damnit.

Jim took off at a sprint bypassing the older man on his left. "I'll get it you get inside the barn and check for leaks!" He yelled into the man's face so he could hear him. Frank pursed his lips but nodded. Jim turned around to sprint hard out to the field. Rain pelted him soaking his jeans and sliding off of his bare chest as he forced his legs to pump as hard as he could. It almost felt like one of the Academy's obstacle courses with water making his path slick and long grass and growing crops creating hazards. Jim absently wondered when he had started to care so much about his old home. When he was younger he used to want to get as far away from this place as fast as he could. Now, however, he sprinted towards their tractor not for the first time wishing the rain would let up if only for a second to let him get his footing.

Finally, when his breath was coming fast from his chest he spotted the work machine and pounded mud to get to it. He hopped on top flipping the ignition then giving himself a mental high five when it puttered for only a second then turned on. He slowly laid into the accelerator hoping there wasn't enough rain to make it impossible to move. In the back to the right the large, thick tractor tire started to spin but, thankfully, the other tire had traction and hungrily bit at the ground until the other tire also gained ground and he was moving. Across the sky was a torrent of rain only broken up by the occasional clap of thunder and slice of lightning.

A lightning storm in space.

Jim shook his head needing to focus on the present, not on the past. This was his life. This is what he needed to do to keep everyone safe. Right now he needed to get the tractor into the barn then get inside before he got electrocuted.

Rain hit him so hard Jim thought he was under a waterfall, a part of him felt like he was drowning as rain water got into his mouth and slid from his nose. But he was almost to the barn, almost to his salvation. The tractor, the one he had fixed a few days after starting to help around the farm, was a little soldier and Jim almost wanted to pat himself on the back for getting the old thing to work in the first place let alone in the middle of a tsunami.

With a sigh, Jim entered the barn feeling the exact moment rain stopped pelting his body as he crossed the threshold. Frank was standing over to the side looking at him with concern, hands on hips and lips pressed together into a thin line. Jim maneuvered the wet machine over to its spot without a word and parked. The engine sputtered before it went out. Jim heaved his soggy self off the tractor and jumped to the ground feeling hair stick to his forehead.

"Roof's holding," Frank said gruffly when Jim was close enough. Jim nodded but didn't say anything to Frank. Theirs was a strange relationship that was still in its early stages of familiarity even though he'd been home for a while now and he'd known the man his entire life. Frank didn't have to say thank you to Jim for making the run to save their most expensive and needed machine at the same time Jim wasn't expecting anything from the older man. They both had their quarks and slowly they were trying to figure each other out again. Change was a funny thing and both could claim they had changed.

Frank, a recovering alcoholic with an anger problem and no filter.

Jim, ex-Captain of the starship Enterprise with a martyr complex that couldn't be stopped and too many monsters chasing after him.

But now they were just two men soaking wet and shivering inside a dark barn wanting nothing more than to get inside to get something warm and in Jim's case; to get a shirt.

By mutual agreement Frank turned and Jim followed towards the doors to the barn. The rain was so thick it made it hard to see the house from where they were. Jim looked to Frank who cursed and took off through the small lake that was once a grassy divider between barn and house. Jim steeled himself before running with his head down to get inside. When he reached their house Frank was holding the door open for him and he ducked inside.

It must have been a misjudgment of footing or maybe he just had too much energy from the heart pounding race to get the tractor. Whatever the reason Jim took three steps into the house before his fourth step came out from under him and he went down hard on his back. Something hard hit the back of his head and Jim blinked finding himself flat on his back, confused on how he had even gotten there in the first place. He lay there for a second, stunned before he felt something bubble up from his chest and suddenly he was laughing. Hard. Tears came to his eyes as he laughed because really? Had he really just slipped on slick boots and fallen to the ground? Wasn't he supposed to be some suave Starship captain, always in control and never a hair out of place? But now he lay, soaking wet and just this side of hysterical laughter booming from his chest on the ground of the home he had never wanted to see again with the man who used to beat him. It was funny in the not funny way but also in the way that made tears come to Jim's eyes whether from actual laughter or sadness, he wasn't sure.

A few feet from the boy on the ground stood Frank with wide eyes as he stared at Jim. The kid was on the ground laughing and while the sound should have been nice to hear as oppose to the somber tone he had had since coming home it still didn't sit right with the old man. The laughing was almost too much. It sounded like crying. Frank stepped forward until he was in front of Jim then knelt down setting his hand lightly and gingerly on the boy's chest to get his attention. Jim startled, his laugh dying in his chest as he looked up at Frank. Jim's eyes were a clear blue that shined almost too bright against the reddened whites of his eyes. He looked lost and confused. Angry and sad all at once.

"Come on, up and at 'em," Frank said after a minute or two. He held out his hand to Jim. Jim looked at the man's hand with a hint of skepticism but then he felt a dull ache start to blossom at the back of his head where he'd felt himself hit something and he took the man's hand. Frank pulled Jim to his feet almost too easily for his older age. As the younger man righted himself he felt the dull ache turn to a small pound and brought his hand back to poke at the back of his head. He was surprised to feel a large bump just below the crown of his head already forming. He hissed as he poked at it. Frank pointed to a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit."

Jim looked at him then down at himself noting his sopping wet jeans and shivering as the air conditioning of the house blew cold air on his wet, shirtless chest. But then Frank put his hands on his hips and Jim put his own hands in the air in surrender. He sat at the table feeling water drip down his back and slide from the strands of his hair. Frank left the kitchen for a few minutes before returning with the first aid kit, a white shirt for Jim and a towel for them both. He went behind Jim after throwing the things on the table and Jim had to force himself not to stiffen.

Frank's hands were oddly and surprisingly gentle as he prodded at where the bump was on the back of Jim's head. It felt weird, Frank touching him in a way that wasn't meant to hurt but to help. Jim hissed as he touched the most sensitive spot then smiled at himself in a self-deprecating manner. Of course he would hurt himself running through a door. Kirk luck running true to form.

"Well you ain't gonna die," Frank took his hands away from Jim's head.

"Pity," Jim muttered under his breath. Frank eyed him coming around in front. "Dry yerself off and I'll get something hot to warm us up. Take a few of these," he grabbed a white bottle of pain medication and handed it to Jim before he moved off to somewhere in the kitchen to make something.

Jim grabbed the bottle, shook out three tablets and shot them back with a dry swallow. He then stood up feeling a headache start to take hold of his head and grabbed a towel to start to dry his chest and pants. Ideally he should go up to his room to change but something made him stay in the kitchen and wait for Frank to finished whatever he was getting together.

When he had dried his hair, chest and arms to the best of his ability he wrapped the towel around his waist above his jeans shucking on the shirt that smelled of fresh detergent. Hen then sat down to take off his muddy boots. He unlaced them feeling water drip from the laces and on to the ground adding to the puddle that was already there. Frank sat down opposite him with two mugs of what looked to be steaming coffee. Jim took his wrapping his fingers around the chipped ceramic and relishing in the heat that spread from his fingers to his hands and down his arms.

"Sorry we can't have any beer in the house," Frank said and Jim was stunned into silence again because he used that word – sorry. Jim could remember when he was twelve and cowering in the corner of this very kitchen as Frank yelled and yelled hitting the walls before coming for him too shitfaced to see anything other than his anger. Jim could remember being hit and slamming into walls while the other man sputtered with his rage. He could never remember, however, the man ever apologizing. Even when he sobered up and saw what he had done.

But this was a new man who sat in front of him. Jim didn't really believe people could change but he did think they could get better with time and help.

"It's okay," Jim admitted then, trying to lighten the suddenly tense mood he said, "I shouldn't drink anyways. I think I'm allergic."

Frank looked at him dubiously. "Allergic? To what, alcohol?"

"Yeah," Jim chuckled looking away. "I always seems to break out in handcuffs."

"That sounds like something someone said before," Frank commented.

Jim smiled knowing who he was referring to but at the same time not giving anything away. "Who?"

"Ya know, that guy who... who..." The older man swatted the air trying to make his point and Jim smiled again. He'd found himself doing that a lot in the last week. "Robert-"

"Downey Jr!" Frank yelled suddenly startling Jim, but only a little. "See? I knew it." The man let a small smile twitch across his face for a moment before his face returned back to his scowl that Jim had quickly learned weeks ago didn't mean he was angry. He just had a resting bitch face.

Rain slammed into the window over the kitchen sink. Jim looked over almost mourning the nice day that had just had. The sky was inky black with flashes of lightning brightening up the clouds for a split second before going black again. The storm made him twitch as thunder crashed across the sky. At the same time however he liked the darkness the storm brought. It reminded him of space and the large vastness of black with stars appearing and disappearing as they flew past in his great silver ship. Planets would come into view, bright and full of life or vegetation or maybe nothing at all being too hot or too cold or possibly covered solely in cool water or dusty sand. The planets could have great atmosphere with climates suitable for life sustainment or they could be wastelands with too much carbon or nitrogen in the air to support life. It used to be Jim's job to figure it out. To find new worlds and explore them. Cultivate life and see beyond space. To discover new places and meet exciting people with his crew...

But that wasn't his life now, and it made his heart hurt in his chest as it beat dully in tune to his headache.

"Someone threatened my crew's lives," Jim whispered suddenly lulled by the pounding rain hitting the window and hot coffee warming his hands. He didn't know why but his mouth had just started speaking and Frank stayed silent. "It was an alien, one I'd only heard stories about but he came to me and he said that if I didn't clear out he'd start killing them. My crew. The people I loved. And he could. He could kill them without blinking an eye." Tears collected in Jim's eyes but he fought them. He didn't blink staring down at his coffee mug like it was his only life line. "So I did. I resigned my commission and I came back here and I don't... I don't know what I'm supposed to do now." He could feel himself shaking just like he could hear the pelting of rain against glass but it felt like nothing mattered. His head throbbed and his heart clenched as a wave of despair and solitude blanketed him. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Do you love your crew?" The man sitting opposite him questioned looking him straight in the eye. Jim sat up straighter, anger flooding his veins because of course he did. Of course he loved his crew.

"Yes." He all but spat feeling a tear trickle down his face. "Yes. They're my family." He said trying to express all of his love and loss into those few words. He could feel his hands shaking when a trickle of hot coffee spilled onto his fingers.

"Well then, you did the right thing." Frank gently pulled the coffee mug from Jim's white knuckled grip. "There's nothing more ya could've done."

Jim looked at the man with his mouth slightly parted and another tear making tracks down his face. It hurt. It hurt so much to think about his ship and his crew and his friends and his family. It hurt to know they were exploring and being together and he was here soaking wet and crying in front of the man who had caused him so many nightmares.

"It doesn't feel like it." He whispers more to himself than to the older man.

"No it probably don't," Frank agreed leaning forward in his chair ignoring as it creaked to get closer to Jim. "It probably fuckin' hurts and feels so damn unfair that ya wanna scream but listen Jimmy, you just gotta think of yer crew. You did what you thought was best an that's all ya can do." Jim looked up at Frank feeling his headache start to dissipate somewhat as the meds took hold. "It's gonna be okay, Jimmy."

In that moment Frank reminded Jim of Pike and if that wasn't the strangest comparison Jim didn't know what was. He looked at the old man who was still wet from the rain and let himself nod his head suddenly feeling tired. Frank cleared his throat feeling the back of his neck get hot and thinking if there was anything else he should say to the boy in front of him. His sponsor had told him to be nice to Jim, as if he wouldn't try to be already. He said that when he got angry instead of grabbing a bottle he should get some tools and fix something broken instead of breaking something that was already whole. He didn't have all the answers – hell, he didn't have any answers at all. But he still wanted to help the kid. Jim had been through too much to be degraded to this; a young man too skinny and crying at the table of his parents' house filled with too much anger and sadness to be healthy.

Jim looked over at Frank grateful for the words he had just said. Yes. It had been his only choice and yes, he was doing this to save his best friend and his crew.

Everything would be okay.

In time.

"Alright," Frank put his hands on the table setting himself up to stand. "Get on upstairs and take a shower or change or whatever then come back down and I'll have dinner ready." He ordered. Jim wiped at his eyes and gave a small laugh when the man nodded to himself like that was a mighty fine suggestion and turned away. The man started humming to himself a soft tone that made the tiredness Jim felt drag at his eye lids. Maybe he did need a quick shower to warm his cold bones then a meal would be nice before going to bed. Jim stood from the table grabbing the towel still around his waist and throwing it into the laundry room as he left the kitchen. He made his way through the living room towards the stairs looking at the rain to the right of the front door. It was too dark outside to see anything. From somewhere in the kitchen Franks humming turned to singing.

"Mamma's don't let your babies grow up to be Cowboys..."

Jim held back his chuckle as he neared the staircase. He was about to round it when there was a knock, quick and concise, from the wooden front door. Maybe it was the drowsiness from the pain medication Frank had given him or the lull of warm that had slowly been spreading through Jim's chest to start to heal the ice that had formed around his heart that caused Jim to turn towards the door. Maybe he wasn't thinking or maybe there was some small part of him that forgot about everything that had happened but whatever the reason was he latched onto the handle and opened the door. Jim froze feeling his body tense up and let out a sharp breath as he looked at the two people standing on his porch.

Spock. Bones. Both drenched in water. Bones had a snarl on his face and anger in his eyes.

What?

Fast, quicker than Jim could react in his surprised state, something hard came striking across his face. He jerked back from the force of the blow stumbling backwards. His eyes were wide as he slowly brought his hand to his throbbing cheek and quickly swelling eye. Leonard tried hard not to notice the aching pain in his hand as he looked at the man he felt so much anger for. The man who he had risked his career to bring aboard the Enterprise. The man he had saved too many times. The man he lov-

The man who was his best friend.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bones yelled.

Jim stepped back.

No. No. No.

They couldn't be here. Sha'thrill... He was going to kill them. The alien was going to kill them and they were all going to die. This was his fault. He shouldn't have come back here he should have taken the next flight to another system and disappeared off the face of the universe. He should have done anything to keep them away. They were here. They were going to die. That alien would kill them.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Jim shook his head feeling loss and sadness and dread overtake him. Before thinking, before any rational thought could come anywhere close to his mind he slammed the door shut and turned around needing to get away from them. He went to run out the other door through the kitchen but there stood Frank with a scowl on his face and suddenly he was ten years old again and he knew his biggest enemy was the drunk man spitting and sputtering in front of him. Frank went to put his hands up in surrender to show he wasn't going to hurt Jim but all Jim saw was movement and he was gone, bolting up the steps three at a time. His breath came fast and heart beat unevenly. He shook so bad it took four tries to lock the door but when he did he dived into the corner of his room where there was a three foot space between wall and bed then grabbed his head with his hands and sobbed.

They were going to die.

It was all his fault.

Outside in the darkness of the Iowa rainstorm Mr. Spock turned to Dr. McCoy with a raised eye brow and a flash of annoyance in his eyes.

"Doctor, I do not think hitting him was the best option."

I recently broke my ankle and so between school, surgery and loosing my sanity while hopping around on one leg it's been a struggle - that is also my excuse for why this chapter took so long.