Hello friends! This is technically the first part of the Run series, the next one being Got no Reason yet To Die. So same warnings for this one as the last, except this is slightly more graphic. This one turned out nicely. There will be two more parts, and I'm making this Hurt - Someone To Die For themed, but if I missed anything let me know as far as grammar goes. I read through it, but I am human so its likely that I missed something. Anyway, enjoy! See you at the bottom!

DISCLAIMER I DO NOT OWN STAR TREK!

He woke up in a field. It was the prettiest field he'd ever seen, he knew, but strangely enough he couldn't recall any of the other fields he had seen. There was no way he couldn't have seen any, but he wasn't sure how he knew about that conviction.

"So this is where you retreat to."

He turned around quickly to see a broad shouldered gray-haired man standing relaxed. Somehow, he knew that he should know this man, but he didn't. It was the same as the field situation.

"Who're you?"

The man looked surprised. "Come now, you know who I am."

"No I don't." He replied. "But I feel like I do."

"What do you know?"

He looked around. "That we're in a field, and not much more than that. Wait, who am I?"

"Isn't that the question. Follow."

He was about to ask where he was supposed to follow him to when the golden grass field faded to black.

In response, he jumped and twisted around. "Hey man, what's going on?"

"I told you, we're going to answer your question. Or die trying."

That didn't sound promising. "Why? Shouldn't I know who I am? Wait what this about dying?"

The man smiled kindly. "Just watch, it should become clear, at the very least you'll know why you don't know who you are."

He blinked. Trying to figure out what was going on. "This isn't the physical world. If we were truly surrounded by darkness, then I wouldn't be able to see you, and there's no source of light."

"Clever as usual. Ah, it's about to start."

Just as the man said that the black lit up with the interior of a shuttle. A large-eyed doctor was holding a small bundle and a woman was panting heavily focused on a communicator, completely ignoring the newborn.

"What are we gonna call him?" Cracked over the comm.

"We could name him after your father." She replied quietly.

There was a laugh. "Tiberius? You kidding me? No, that's the worst. Let's name him after your dad. Let's call him Jim."

"Jim. OK, Jim it is." She smiled and finally took the baby.

"Sweetheart, can you hear me?" The man sounded panicked now.

Tears started tracking down her face. "I hear you."

"I love you so much." The words were said in a rush. "I love you..."

The channel was filled with static.

"Is that me?" He asked stunned.

"Your very first few moments of life." The man answered.

"So my name is Jim?"

The man's smile stayed in place, it was more comforting than creepy. "James Tiberius Kirk."

The name fit him, he liked it. From the shuttle window he saw a large ship with an explosion occurring in the center of it. The name of the ship floated into his head, the U.S.S Kelvin.

The woman who was his mother kept mumbling and weeping into the communicator, breaking the silence of the shuttle. Even the baby was calm. Jim tuned her out to look at the stars, they were beautiful and they were calling to him. Like he was meant to be among them.

For a few seconds his mother held him tight before pushing him away and staring at the wall, her face blank.

"Welcome to life." He mumbled.

The shuttle faded and the man standing next to him remained silent. The black changed quicker this time and now he looked to be about three.

A boy he had never seen before sat at the table next to him. There were crayons scattered all over the table as well as multiple marked up pages. The older boy looked at least seven, and he was humming something.

From where he stood he could see someone walking down the steps, carrying a duffle bag. Jim recognized the woman as his mother, though it was hard. Her face had turned from a warm young woman's to a cold one and her eyes made her look ancient.

"Two weeks Sam."

"I know." Sam didn't look up from his coloring.

Suddenly the young him jumped up from the table, carrying the picture that he was working on, and ran to his mom.

"Mommy! Lookit! I made if for you! It's me and you and Sam and we're all on a planet I discovered and it's got a good climate and its just us!" He was beaming.

The older him was surprised by the intelligence that he was showing.

His mom made no move to look at the picture and instead walked past and fixed something on the fridge. Young Jim wasn't discouraged. He slipped the paper into his mother's bag.

After bidding Sam a farewell, and reminding him that their grandparents would arrive shortly, she left and headed to the transport in the yard.

It wasn't a few minutes later when Sam came over to him. "She won't look at it you know."

"Will too." Jim crossed his arms.

"Nuh uh!" She hates you! You killed Dad!" Sam snapped back.

"No I didn't!" His lip was trembling.

"Jimmy... you know it's true." And somehow the seven year sounded reasonable.

Jimmy, because it was easier to make the distinction between him now and him then, took off running towards the steps tears in his eyes and a denial on his lips. Sam just looked angry.

The room faded and there was an odd tightness to his chest. He had forgotten that he wasn't alone during that whole scene.

"My mom was gone a lot wasn't she?"

The man nodded. "Often for months at a time. She was gone for a year once."

"And my brother, Sam, hated me."

"You always thought so. Maybe he did, you never asked."

Thinking back on it, he only saw resentment on his brother's face.

This time when the scene changed there was a burly, rough looking man with an arm around his mother's waist and smiling and he was seven.

Jim was almost happy about his mom finding a man until he saw the look he was sending his younger self. It just wasn't right.

"Bye Frank." His mom grinned, slipping out of Frank's grasp and out of the door, duffle bag in hand.

Some part of him reminded him that this would be the first time that Frank was left in charge of him. Sam wasn't there, he couldn't remember why though.

"Hey there Jamie." The he didn't need the memory to remind him of the alcohol that permanently stained Frank's breath.

In this memory he could tell that he wasn't drunk. At least not yet.

"S'not Jamie, its Jimmy." He mumbled back, hiding behind the chair.

"Right, Jamie, be a scout and get me something to drink. The brown bottle." Frank walked out of the kitchen.

Jimmy made a face before wandering over to the cooler. He knew what beer was, he had asked someone about it once, after Frank stayed over the first time and left the bottles everywhere.

He grabbed one of the beers and headed slowly to the living room. The TV was playing some sport, and Frank was invested in it. When he set the bottle down, Frank snatched it up.

"Bring it faster next time, eh, Jamie." He ordered.

"Its Jimmy." He whispered again.

"What was that?" Frank had an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing." He replied quickly.

"Nothing, what?"

Jimmy tilted his head. "What? It was nothing."

"You say sir when you're addressing me." Frank pointed the beer at him. "Gonna teach you some manners. Your mom says you run wild."

Jim wanted to point out that it seemed like his mother wouldn't know what he did based on the amount of attention that he saw her give his younger self.

The man remained silent next to him, and this was a long memory. Frank would ask for a drink every few minutes. If he didn't get it fast enough he yelled.

By the time he was completely drunk they were out of alcohol, which Jim was having a bad feeling about.

"Jamie." Hiccup. "Get 'nother one."

"There isn't any more... sir."

"Liar!" Frank yelled.

Jimmy winced at the volume. "No, there isn't one."

"You filthy liar." He stood up.

Jimmy back-pedaled at the swaying form suddenly looming over him. "Not lying!"

"Don't talk back to me, you little liar."

He whimpered as Frank drew closer. His back was pressed against a wall.

"Now go get me one."

"There aren't any more!" He spoke loudly, his voice trembling.

"Don't get testy with me, and I told you, call me sir!" Frank raised his hand and lowered quickly.

The older him was gripped in panic, he knew that this wasn't the last time that this would happen, and he was worried about seeing more.

The younger him however fell to the floor holding his reddened cheek, tears springing to his eyes. He clearly didn't understand what was happening. Whimpering he made to stand up, only for Frank to push him back down.

"Sit there and stay." The man stumbled off.

Jimmy was breathing heavy, his muscles were tight. It was clear that he wanted to leave but that he was to scared too.

"Told ya you were a liar." Frank was holding up a bottle of clear liquid.

"I didn't know what that was." He whispered.

Frank sat back down in his chair and Jimmy took his chance and ran up to his room.

The next morning Frank opened the door causing Jimmy to wake up. He rubbed at his now bruised face.

"Don't tell nobody what that was from, got it? Or it'll be way worse."

"Understood, sir." He nodded.

Frank left and Jimmy buried himself under the covers.

Jim turned to the other man who looked mad. "That wasn't the only time that happened."

"No it wasn't, and it got worse each time."

"I think I hated him." Jim replied, unclenching his fist.

"It's not in you to hate." The man said softly. "Even the worst people you tried to see the best in."

"There's one person that I hate though. I know that. I don't know what his name was."

The man looked sad.

The scene they had just witnessed was barely gone by the time the next one came. They were in his old bedroom, they were both sitting on his brother's bed, or at least Jim remembered it to be his brother's bed.

It was late at night and Sam had just told him that he was running away. When he had asked why Sam lost that permanently pissed look that he had on his face.

"I have to run. You know what Frank does to us. It's not normal, it horrible. It'll only get worse Jimmy."

"Stay, we can figure something out." He had begged.

Sam only shook his head. "No. One of these days you're going to have to run and not look back. That's the only way you're going to survive."

Jimmy nodded sagely. He clearly took the words to heart.

The next morning, Jimmy woke up to a room devoid of his brother. He got up staring at Sam's bed, that's when he noticed there was a folded up paper. Quickly he picked it up.

Jim remembered that he thought it was because it told him where his brother was heading.

All it said was:

Run and don't look back. You'll survive that way.

Jimmy crumpled the piece of paper up and tossed it to a corner of the room.

Frank, per usual, was already tipsy when Jimmy crept downstairs. He was trying to be as silent as he could, trying to avoid getting his step-father's attention.

The older him remembered that the kid him always drew Frank's attention. Sam had used it to his advantage more than once.

"There's the worthless Jamie. Here to eat the food he didn't earn. Where's that brother of yours? He's supposed to be feeding the pigs.

Jimmy shrugged.

"Answer me! You share a room don'tcha?"

"I don't know where he is."

Frank was never one to act rational so he lunged at Jimmy and managed to get a hand around his wrist. Jimmy yelped and pulled away, slipping under out of his step-father's grasp. Then he ducked under the man and bolted for the door, his face filled with rage. Frank reached out but thanks to the alcohol his movements were slowed.

On his way out he grabbed his coat and the keys to the old car that Frank kept, even though it was actually George's.

Sam wanted him to run, so he'd run.

Thankfully he was able too fast for Frank to recover and catch up to him. He was also grateful that the car was kept in good condition and started easily.

He sped off the farm and Frank somehow was able to work the phone well enough to call and threaten him, he just popped the top after hanging up. There was nothing he had to lose the quarry wasn't much further. Sam was even on the road as he flew past him. Then he had a cop on his tail.

Didn't matter, wouldn't matter in a minute.

Jim felt the bitterness he did when he was eleven, remembering what the newspaper would say. Ruin Frank's and his mom's life at the same time.

The car sped towards the quarry edge and suddenly Jimmy was jumping out.

"I couldn't do it." Jim said quietly.

"Why?" The man asked.

"Because... I don't know. Didn't feel done yet."

The man said nothing, and Jim remembered that he wound up in the hospital anyway thanks to Frank. He nearly died twice that day.

The memory faded away as the young him proudly (in appearance) spoke his full name. Jim laughed, he knew that at that point in his life he was everything but proud of his name.

It was a very odd feeling to slowly learn you past while not know what was going to happen to you, it was like watching a movie and not knowing the plot.

"The next part is going to be graphic." The man warned.

"What?" Jim turned to look at his companion, but the memory had already formed.

They were standing in a courtyard, with a few thousand other people. A few feet in front of him his younger self was standing with a little girl (that he recalled was his cousin.)

At the other end of the plaza a man walked on stage, he was dressed in extravagant clothes and his smile was like poison. "Dear citizen of Tarsus IV-"

Jim felt his stomach drop as memories of everything prior to this day filled his head. Blood rushed in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out the speech.

"As you know, there has been an epidemic recently. A fungus, still unidentified, swept through the crops and destroyed them and the food stores have been decimated by the fungus as well. There's very little food left within the colony."

Ahead of him, Jimmy grabbed his cousin's(what was her name?) hand tighter and started to step backwards through the crowd.

Kodos was still talking. "Starvation is a very painful and slow way to go. So for the good of society, for the survival of the colony, only the fittest can go on."

Suddenly his cousin stopped walking as she spotted her parents and ran off towards them.

"No!" Jimmy cried reaching out for her, but missing by millimeters.

Jim realized that he probably didn't want to remember her name.

"Your deaths mean that those that are more valuable will have a greater chance to survive. There is no other way." The man raised his hand.

Jimmy started to run towards the back of the crowd, some other kids following him, others were too shocked to realize what had happened mostly the adults.

"Your execution is so ordered, signed Kodos, governor of Tarsus IV." The hand lowered slowly.

Jim was more surprised that he had forgotten his name, his face. He could see the soldiers open fire and the first few citizens started to fall. Panic began and so did the screaming. If he could he would've wretched at the smell of the blood, fresh.

His younger self turned and looked on. Eyes wide and face pale, he was uncomprehending. Then a kid ran up to him and stopped, looking up in an innocent way, waiting for Jimmy to take the lead.

A few other kids joined, giving him the same kind of look.

Jimmy watched the "executions" for a few seconds more before taking off. The gates were raising to lock the people in. Like cattle to slaughter. He ran towards the ones that were the closest to the woods.

One of the kids stumbled and he bent down to pick them up, Jim didn't think that they were older than four. Jimmy stopped moving. When he saw what had made the younger him pause, it was his cousin and aunt, lying in what was likely their own blood.

Jim remembered his cousin's name, it was Emily.

Jimmy didn't stop. "Run and don't look back! It's the only way we're going to survive!"

Him and nineteen other kids made it over before the gates slammed shut, they weren't uninjured though. A few had had bullets (actual bullets) hit them.

Jimmy lead them to the woods, and didn't stop going until it was too dark to see.

The older him nearly collapsed as the rest of Tarsus flowed into his mind, the other man steadied him. "I lived through this- that?"

"Yes."

The memory shifted and now they were in the forest. Several months had passed from the look of things.

"J.T!" His younger self looked up, as well as several other kids.

Jim nearly lost his stomach again, J.T -that's what he wants to be called, he's lost too much of his innocence- was the oldest of the group. There was also only eight present. All of them were barely more than skeletons with skin. J.T was the thinnest.

"Kev? What's the matter?" J.T stood up.

"We're out of medical supplies, we used the last of it up. There's nothing to treat Bea with."

"Nothing at all? What does she need?" J.T stood up, revealing how much weight he had lost.

"Bandages, antibacterial ointment, painkillers." Kev reported.

"We could make the bandages. But the other stuff... We'd have to make a raid, and those things are completely guarded. We wouldn't make it... Not as a large group."

The youngest of the group started crying and J.T stepped over and picked her up. He balanced the toddler on his hip, shushing her as he moved back in front of Kev.

"It's already pretty likely that she has an infection. Without the ointment and soon, she'll die."

"We'll have to loop back and look, after we look then I'll make the run."

Kev didn't look happy about the idea. "I could do it, send me and Dip, we could do it. It'd be faster, instead of relocating the whole group. We don't have time."

The boy named Dip stood up. "We could."

"I'd volunteer!" Another boy spoke suddenly.

There was a murmur among the other kids.

"No. We can't risk everyone going in. When we make the run it'll be at the safest possible option and it'll be me. Understood?"

"But..." Kev tried to argue.

"No. Case closed. It'll just have to be a fast scouting session."

Kev looked like he wanted to argue more but instead lowered his eyes. "I don't envy you."

Jim could see how sincere Kev was, and he knew how hard it was for J.T to make that call. He could see the weariness in the set of his younger self's shoulders, he was surprised that J.T was still standing.

There was a crack like a stick breaking and it sent all of the kids to their feet. It was quickly followed by a scream.

"Bea!"

J.T hoisted the toddler onto his back, heading towards where Bea was. "We need to move. Go, to the next spot."

"But you can't carry Nina and Bea alone..." Kev started to follow.

"You take-"A gunshot cut him off.

"Damn, she's gone. They're too close. Move!"

Kev took off first, turning when he got right out of the clearing. Dip followed turning when he was further out. A girl was next, and when she was out of the clearing she went the opposite way.

The rest started to follow. J.T handed Nina over to one of the older kids, another girl.

Eventually J.T was the last one in the clearing, pulling out one of their very few weapons before taking off out of the clearing towards the soldiers.

"Well trained." The man commented.

"Had to be, we'd die otherwise. Kev was supposed to be on guard duty, which is why they were able to get so close to us."

"That was the Tarsus Nine."

"Bea was the last one I lost." Jim muttered.

The man turned to look at him. "Remember what happened to the others, after they got off the planet."

"Kind of, not really."

The man sent him a pitying look.

Jim didn't respond to the look. "What's next I wonder?"
"A fast decline." His companion responded.

Jim wondered what his name was.

The next memory came into existence and it was J.T at a much healthier weight. Frank was standing over him, bottle sloshing in one hand and the other curled into a fist.

Jim figured that at this point he had to be eighteen, five years of memories slowly filing into his brain. Strangely even these had gaps.

"Blackouts from getting high, drunk, or knocked out." The other man supplied.

He winced as he sorted through the details of them. Most of the blackouts occurred near dates that had to do with Tarsus or the news of what happened to one of the survivors. This night happened after he heard the news about Dip.

Jim shook his head and returned his attention to the scene in front of him. It struck him that he didn't know why this was happening.

"You're fighting."

And hell if that wasn't cryptic.

Frank was talking. "You come in at who knows what time looking like you just shot a supplier's entire stock into your arm and you have the nerve to disrespect me in my own home?"

J.T pushed off the ground standing nose to nose with Frank. "It's not your home. Its my mothers, like it wasn't your car, it was George's."

"Listen here Jamie-"

"It's J.T."

"Jamie, I have fed you, clothed you, raised you-"

J.T's eyebrows rose, crossing his arms."Oh you raised me? This is what you call parenting? You fed me? Sure when you weren't to drunk and you had leftovers. Most of my clothes came from Sam, any others I stole."

Frank pushed a finger into J.T's chest. "Don't take that tone with me. I can throw you out on your ass."

J.T growled in warning before slamming his first into Frank's nose. The older man stumbled back, struggling to regain his footing, but when he did he came swinging. The punch was clumsy and J.T was able to dodge it easily, then he was stepping into Frank's space. His stepfather was on the ground in seconds, from a jab into his solar plexus and having his head slammed into J.T's knee. Frank was still conscious, barely.

J.T quickly leapt over the body and shot up the stairs. Nearly a minute later he jumped down the last few stairs and headed out the backdoor, two duffel bags over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't have ever come back!" Frank yelled as the screen slammed closed.

Jim saw his younger self pause and knew what happened on Tarsus had surfaced, though that didn't stop him for long, he pressed on.

The memory dissolved into a brighter scene. Somehow he knew that they were in Chicago. J.T was sitting on a park bench, bags pressed to his chest. He looked every part the homeless kid that he was. Most people skirted around him.

Until a girl with platinum blonde hair pulled into a ponytail sat next to him. She looked like she was only a few years older than him.

"Hey. You look hungry, do you want my sandwich?" She smiled warmly.

J.T looked startled, either due to the girl's sudden appearance or the offer. "But it's yours."

She was still smiling. "I'll survive until dinner."

Part of Jim's mind, the one still raw from relieving Tarsus commented that she may never see dinner, and would go hungry because she was being nice.

Slowly J.T took the sandwich, and even slower than that did he unwrap it, then finally he sniffed it, deeming it acceptable he ate it.

"I'm Ruth." She said suddenly. "What are you called?"

He swallowed before speaking. "J.T"

"I like it. It's fitting."

J.T returned his attention to the sandwich finishing it quickly.

"Wow, you must've really been hungry." Ruth's eyes widened before she started digging around in her purse. "Ah! Here!"

It was a container of cookies. "They're the day olds from the bakery I work at."

He took them repeating the same actions that he did with the sandwich, and then he wolfed them down as well.

"So..." Ruth began. "Down on your luck?"

"Never had any."

She looked sad at the statement. "Then, what's your story, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Ran away."

"Small town get too small?" She put the container away.

"Something like that. How'd you know?" J.T leaned away.

"Same thing happened to me." She paused. "Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, took the midnight train goin anywhere."

Ruth had a pretty singing voice and J.T smiled slightly at the song.

He joined in quietly. "Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit, took the midnight train goin anywhere.

The memory started to go fuzzy after that and turned to black after they sung the line "for a smile they can share the night."

Jim looked at his companion. "How did something so nice and sweet end up so horribly?"

The next memory was causing the black to start to grow lighter.

Suddenly Jim was panicking. They were getting to the most recent part of his life. If his life before then had been so bad then what's to say that this wasn't worse.

His brother's words, the ones from the note came back to him.

Run and don't look back. You'll survive that way.

Jim wanted to run, he didn't want to see anymore of what his past held he was done. Whatever this was, whatever he was fighting he was done. He couldn't do it. There was already too much pain in him.

A feeling that he remembered from his teen years hit him, he wanted something to take the edge off, to take away the pain.

He stumbled and fell to the ground. Surprised that he was even running in the first place, not remembering taking off.

"C'mon Jim, you have to fight."

Jim paused his fleeing. That voice was completely unknown to him.

"You can do it, just have to fight your way back."

He wanted to scream. But his throat closed up. Instead he curled into himself and rested his forehead on his knees.

"Jim." That was his companion. "We're so close, you have to finish this fight."

"I don't want to. This is horrible. How I survived it the first time I don't know."
"It's not happening a second time." The man countered.

"No, but it feels like I'm reliving all of it, and not just the stuff that we're seeing."

"Is this the man that doesn't believe in no-win scenarios?"

The words jogged something in him. He wasn't relieving a memory, not the way they had been, but he knew that this man was Pike. They were back at the bar where the captain had found him.

Back at the same table even.

"Dude, what are you even doing here? Isn't this my head?"

"Yes and no."

Jim waited for the rest of the answer but after a couple of minutes none came. "What am I fighting? Who was that yelling earlier?"

"You have to find out on your own. The only way to do know that is to finish this to fight."

"I don't finish things I run. That much has always been the same."

Silence fell over them.

The voice from before echoed in the bar. "Jim. Dammit, get a grip!"

Jim looked around for the source of the voice.

Slightly softer this time. "We're losing him! Jim!"

He wondered who that man could be. It sounded like his refusal not to fight was hurting him. He didn't even know the guy but he wanted to stop hurting him.

"It's just you and me? How?"

"You already said it. This isn't real."

Jim blinked. "But..."

"It's not real in the physical sense." Pike only shrugged.

"Helpful."

Another shrug.

"So what, this is like the academy? You get me to join and leave me hanging, with no idea what to do?"

"You were in training to be an officer you needed to figure out how to solve your own problems, and how to find solutions that weren't running away."

"It worked didn't it?" And then Pike said nothing for a few minutes. "One more memory. Then you can decide if you want to stop fighting."

"I have nothing to fight for."

The bar faded.

This memory came into existence slowly, enough that Jim could get more of a feel for the setting. It felt like late summer and there was a cool breeze, the golden light told him that it was nearing evening. There was a hill in front of him and he could see himself sitting next to someone. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that it was Leonard.

The name didn't sound right but he knew that it was. For what seemed like forever both of them just sat underneath the tree reading something, in his case an old paper bound book and in Leo's -no that's not right either- something on his PADD.

"Hey Bones?"

Jim's eyes widened, that's his name! But the doctor didn't respond right away to the nickname, which even without all of his memories he knew it was weird.

"Bones?"

Still nothing. Awareness slammed into him, this was the first time he verbally used the nickname.

The past him poked Bones.

"What Jim?"

Jim tilted his head. "I was calling for you."

"No you weren't." Bones scowled.

"Yeah Bones, I was."

The doctor blinked. "Jim? My name isn't Bones. Are you feeling alright? Any head injuries you didn't tell me about?"

The current Jim laughed.

"Bones," The younger him was batting away the hands. "I'm fine."

The other man sat back. "Then why are you calling me Bones?"
"Always have. Mentally at least."

"Why?"

"Leonard doesn't suit you, and you said yourself all you had left were your bones. Also sawbones is an old term for surgeon, which you are."

"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want a nickname?"

"Yes."

Bones rolled his eyes. "Why say it now and not when you came up with it?"

"Today's the day that we met. You've stuck with me for a year." Jim answered closing the book.

"Its the day we met and you got me a nickname?" Bones' eyebrow was arched.

The past him turned around. "You can give me one."

"I do." The doctor held up his fist, and raised a finger with each term. "Infant, idiot, asshole, jerk..."

"Okay I get it." Jim pouted.

Bones sighed. "Tell you what, next year I'll get you something."

Jim lit up.

The current him smiled slightly. "It was the first time that someone promised to stay."

"Not even Ruth?"

"She made me promise to stay. Not the other way around."

The memory faded leaving the picture of Jim sitting closer to Bones as they both returned to their books. He wasn't sure what to think. That had been such a 180degree turn from how the memories before had ended up.

He recalled that there hadn't been anything completely horrible before the memory, there was his birthday that first year, something that should've sent Bones running but it didn't.

Jim knew that the academy was a happy time for him.

"Well, are you going to keep fighting?" Pike asked.

Somehow they were back in the bar.

"That voice before, that was Bones wasn't it?"

"Yes."
"He sounded so worried. Why?"

"I told you to know that you have to keep fighting."

The air shifted letting them knew that they were about to hear input from the outside.

"Doctor, we have to call it, he isn't responding..."

"No, one more time."

Jim looked at Pike, eyes wide.

"Make your choice."

He closed his eyes, pressing his palms to his eyes. Something would have to go wrong in these next few memories, he knew it. But Bones hadn't left him when given the choice, he'd stayed. Didn't he owe it to his best friend?

Yet, he didn't want to go back, there was so much pain in his life.

"You have seconds to choose."

That's what it all came down to, seconds. Make life altering (or ending) decisions in a blink of an eye.

"What's next?"

The room, which had apparently been losing some of its integrity pulled itself together. Pike gave him a secretive smile.

"We have a pulse!"

"Dammit Jim, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

The voice trailed off.

The memory lit up the space with white. Jim knew this place to be the bridge of the Enterprise, he could see himself sitting in The Chair. His past self was beaten and weary but not the broken kid that came from Tarsus or ran from Frank. Jim could see that there was a tenseness to young him's shoulders, but it wasn't the usual preparation for flight tenseness. Just... the weight of what had happened.

"The Narada." He mumbled.

"Your first obstacle as captain and you performed well."

Jim looked at Pike. "I let a planet collapse on itself, nearly killing an entire race. You were tortured!"

"And? You weren't in command when Vulcan fell and it was my decision."

"Doesn't mean it isn't my burden."

Jim turned his attention to the younger him. Despite what had just happened, he seemed fine.

"Uhura, have you gotten into contact with Starfleet yet?"

"Yes, sir. They are unable to spare a ship, but will be standing by to receive wounded." Uhura reported.

"Thank you. Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov how are we looking time wise?"

"At this current rate we'll arrive at the Earth Space base in two weeks." Sulu responded.

"The course is holding steady, sir!" Chekov spoke right after Sulu.

"Very nice." Jim clicked a button on his chair. "Scotty! Come up with anything?"

"No, sir! The ship is running as well as she can be without the cores, no signs of leaking and the thrusters are up to maximum efficiency."

"Let me know if you think of a way to get us home faster."

"Aye, sir!" And the line went dead.

Jim pressed another button and Bones answered the hail.

"Yes, Captain?"

"How is Captain Pike doing?" Jim smiled slightly.

"He's still asleep, and I did what repair work I could, but with the state of the medbay it'd be impossible to completely repair it. We lost some of our finer equipment when the deck was hit." Bones grumbled.

"And the injured?"

"No new casualties."

Jim breathed a sigh of relief. "And Mr. Spock?"

"Hasn't left his quarters since he came back from the mission, but there hasn't been any complaints and he wasn't injured." Bones relayed.

"Good, good. As you were Bones."

"Yes, Captain."

Jim drummed his fingers on the arm rest, but otherwise didn't seem restless.

"You got the crew to work efficiently even after such a disaster. You're a good captain, son."

"Thank you, sir." His current self responded, watching with some pride as his crew held themselves together.

The memory blurred before coming to focus in one of the spare quarters his past self had taken over (being a stowaway actually sucked). His hands pushing into his eyes and breathing uneven.

He knew what this was.

"Shit. I let them die. It was my fault." The past Jim muttered. "I should've recognized it faster. Damn it!"

He stood up swinging his arm out at nothing, but ending up hitting the wall. Stepping forward Jim pressed his forehead to the cool metal and cradled his tender hand.

"An entire planet gone..." He whispered. "Spock's planet..."

Shoving off the wall Jim began to pace. "What the hell was that anyway. I have been and always shall be your friend? Did he not realize that his past self was such a dick?"

The pacing continued. "Just do a fucking mind meld out of nowhere, and show me everything that was, could've been. A time when I wasn't a colossal fuck-up? Where I was happy?"

Jim watched his past self, he knew what he was talking about. Spock had shown more than he wanted to originally, the faces of the original Enterprise. The same ones he had now, but different. Their lives were different. In his meant to be life, he was someone everyone respected. Not some sort of luck magnet.

"When he said I should take over the Enterprise, he was still talking as if I was the same James T. Kirk that he knew." The current him turned to Pike.

"You don't think that was right?"
"The other me, the original me, didn't grow up in such a bad way. Tarsus still happened, and Frank was an asshole but a distant one. Ruth was... amazing, if what prime-me said to Spock Prime was anything to go by. I knew my father and my mother loved me, but they had their problems."

"But you're still the same person." Pike put a hand on his shoulder.

"No. Experiences forge people. I didn't have the same experiences that the other me had."

"And, yet your fate remains the same."

Jim turned back to the scene in front of him. His past self had slid down the wall and was no muttering thing incomprehensible. Not crying, never crying, he wasn't worth the tears.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk."

Jim rubbed a hand over his face and stood up walking over to the comm.

"Kirk here. What's up?"

"Starfleet has contacted us and wish to speak to you privately."

"Right, send it to the Captain's ready room."

"Yes, sir."

The comm shut off and Jim once more rubbed a hand over his face, looking like the confident young man everyone knew him to be. A man who always smiled and didn't have a care in to world.

The current him knew that he wasn't itching to flee like he usually was at this point.

As the door hissed open the memory went to black.

Jim had nothing to say, the scene had said it all. He wondered if he should've stopped fighting when he had the chance.

When the black lit up the first thing that Jim was met with was his senior crew and him sitting at a table at one of his favorite bars in San Francisco.

The past him looked confused. "Not that I don't appreciate this, but what's this for?"

Bones rolled his eyes, looking at the other crew members before setting his drink down. "You don't know?"

"No?" Jim frowned.

"It's the year anniversary of our first official mission." Bones said, raising an eyebrow.

Jim looked at him with a wry grin, like they were sharing an inside joke which they were, in a way.

"And tomorrow we all get our ship assignments for the next five years." Bones was saying.

"Right...?" Jim tilted his head.

"Well, if you submitted a request for a post you get it early."

Jim was nodding looking more and more concerned.

"We all got ours today."

The current him didn't miss the how the a past him's hand tightened on his drink.

The doctor stopped and again looked around the table, all of them were smiling slightly.

"We're all back on the Enterprise!"

Jim let out a breathy laugh as grin grew on his face. "You're all fine in following me for another five years?"

"Well, the Enterprise is a great ship, and you aren't so bad yourself." Scotty answered.

The current him was being hit with everything he felt at this moment, the warmth and relief and joy. He nearly started crying. His crew was ridiculous, making a big deal about something like this. He'd done it with Bones, but he never expected to have it done to him (Bones did actually get him something the next anniversary).

The want to run was nearly physical in its disappearance, the current him saw it in the way that past him's shoulders dropped and smile loosened and the light in his eyes grow brighter.

"So there is something to fight for."

Pike smiled, but there was something extra to it.

"What?" Jim twisted to fully face the Admiral. "What's going to happen?"

For an answer all he got was the bar scene dissolving as Jim hits Bones in the shoulder and slings an arm around Spock.

Pike was gone at the start of the next memory, and Jim was hit with the filler memories. John Harrison, the Captain's meeting, and the firefight that followed.

The past him was leaning against the wall amidst the broken glass staring ahead, whatever injuries he had (all superficial except for the preverbal blow Pike's death dealt him) going untreated. Spock was busy reporting and for the most part people avoid him.

The current Jim watched, saddened. He had a thought that he wouldn't handle Pike's death well should it happen, he hasn't done well with death so far, but also Pike had been the closest thing he had to a father (disregarding the fact that he was kind yet distant).

An emergency responder slowly made his way over to the past Jim, He held out a medkit, and started to get to his knees.
"Don't touch me."

The responder looked like he wanted to argue, but was quickly called to tend to one of the more critical patients.

Jim rubbed at the tears falling down his face and pushed himself off from the ground. He looked around to make sure that there wasn't anyone that the responders hadn't seen and then took off, pushing past anyone trying to get into the room.

He ran down to the street and then across it to the fountain in the courtyard. Everyone was rushing around and not paying any attention to him, he stumbled over to the ledge of the fountain and kneeled. Jim took a deep breath before dipping his hand into the water, he could see the blood come off. He cupped his hand and rubbed the water over his face and neck.

Another emergency response vehicle flew overhead and Jim stood up, his face in a grim line.

He spun on his heels and turned back towards the mostly destroyed building, pulling out his comm unit.

"Scotty, I'm going to need your help."

"Captain?"

Jim winced.

"At headquarters, there's been an attack, I need you looking at the wreckage, something weird happened."

"Weird, how?"

"I don't want to discuss that on an open comm channel."

There was a few seconds of silence and soft thudding. "On my way, sir."

Jim snapped the communicator shut. The memory dimmed.

And the current him felt dread fill his stomach. He remembered seeing that quiet anger only once before, when he nearly drove himself off of a cliff.

The memory fell away. He feared what he would see next, and what he would see alone.

He didn't think the next thing he saw was a memory, it couldn't have been. Jim stood outside of the warp core doors watching as his past self slowly slip away. The memory (from his perspective as he was dying) was hazy, Spock's visage was a blur even at such a close distance and what he said was a garbled mess to his ears.

How odd it was to watch himself die.

"I'm scared Spock... Help me not be... How do you choose not to feel?" His past self whispered and he remembered that talking felt like swallowing glass.

"I do not know, right now I am failing."

Jim blinked, Spock looked so close to crying. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I wanted you to know why I couldn't let you die, why I went back for you." His past self grunted out.

Even though he's been through this once before he felt like crying (again). He was feeling the physical pain that he felt then and the emotions.

"Because you are my friend."

That caused him to do what his past self couldn't, break down. He was some fuck-up from Iowa and yet he ended with such amazing people as friends -no- family. It was more than he deserved.

Jim watched his past self die after non-verbally telling Spock to bring everyone home, to lead them with the utmost ability. He expected his first officer to stand up and compose himself and calmly take control. Instead, Spock yelled, letting everyone know how badly he was grieving.

Out of the corner of his eyes Jim saw Scotty and Uhura, the latter pressing a hand to her lips like she was holding in a sob and Scotty looked... lost.

Spock stood up and gracefully stormed off, probably to the bridge if Jim had to guess. Uhura looked torn between staying with his past self and following after the half-vulcan. It was Scotty that made the choice moving forward to the comm unit on the wall.

"Engineering to Medical." The accent was thicker.

"Mr. Scott whatever you did, good job, that freefall wasn't settling well with my stomach." Bones' words were filled with relief. "Were you injured, or another engineer?"

"I-" Scotty swallowed. "I need you to send down a decontamination unit."

"Mr. Scott?" Jim could hear Bones' tone change, almost taking on an edge of fear.

Scotty closed his eyes. "The warp cores had to be realigned, there was a casualty."

Jim shivered at the silence.

"Who?"

Scotty shifted like he did when he was in the presence of the doctor, when he was being scolded.

"Who was it?" Bones said again.

"It was... it was J-Jim."

The comm fell silent again. "The unit is on their way."

The memory, or experience since he wasn't technically alive, shifted. Now he was in medical, Bones was standing steady staring down at the body bag on his autopsy table.

Jim was placed so that he could see everyone in the room.

Bones reached out with a shaking hand -Bones' hands never shake- and unzipped the bag. Jim saw the breath hitch and the doctor sway slightly before moving over and collapsing into the chair, meanwhile he lost his breath at the look on his best friend's face. That was the type of face that was in holovids, that actors made to demonstrate how badly the loss affected them.

Like the world ended.

Jim knew that face shouldn't exist outside of holovids, and knew that it shouldn't be made because of him. He's caused them so much pain. He hurt his crew, and he could only imagine how Chekov and Sulu would react. Why did he chose to fight?

He knew what he was fighting now, he was fighting to survive. But what if he was just giving them false hope, prolonging however long it had been. Coming back from the dead? It'd be a mistake, he'd hurt them more. Just because he wouldn't stop running off towards danger and almost dying.

Actually he'd wanted to die for a long time. Now he was running from that too.

How was he even able to come back from complete radiation exposure?

Suddenly in the silence of Medical he heard a soft trilling. The tribble! Jim vaguely remembered Bones saying something about it and Khan, but he was more interested in the look that came on the doctor's face: pure unbridled hope.

Somehow this hurt him worse than the pain.

"Get me a cryotube!"

The experience-memory hybrid started to grow brighter this time until it was pure white. He backed up in surprise and bumped his back against the wall.

He woke up to his memories flashing by, certain words and phrases sticking enough to be registered before moving onto the next. Thankfully he couldn't process the images.

"We'll call him Jim."

And suddenly he was gasping like a drowning man was for air. Waking up like he had never been asleep.

"Oh don't be so dramatic, you were barely dead. It was the transfusion that really took its toll. You've been in a coma for two weeks."

Jim knew that snark was a facade, and whatever Spock was going to look like. He had seen what his death had done to them, what it would do to them the next time it happened and there wasn't some sort of miracle waiting for him.

Hell, he didn't even want to be back this time.

Not to mention everything he had to live through to get back here, it made him realize how much suffering he had gone through. He was tired and he wanted it to end.

Still he had fought and now he was here. He looked at the door briefly. The moment he could he'd take off, disappear into anonymity. Run away and don't look back, he thought, though it didn't help with the survival. Until that moment, that split second decision he'd place the mask on he hasn't needed since he was promoted to Captain.

"Transfusion?"

Be on the look out for the next part! It'll be "When I'm Standing in the Gallows" and it'll probably be a lot more graphic than this one and it'll be more story based than a recap, so that's a thing. Let me know what you thought below! Thanks! Later! ~IF