Shot in the Dark: Chapter One

Captain's Log, Stardate 2258.249: We have finished our survey of the Zeta Leporis Star. Readings indicate that it is burning through its fuel quicker than originally anticipated. Mister Spock believes that it will collapse on itself within the next fifty to one-hundred years, and form a neutron star in its wake. Me, I like the ones that go supernova, but I guess we can't force it, now can we?

We're en route back to Starbase Nine to pick up three new crewmembers and take on supplies. Then it's off to Xentia again, and hopefully we'll be able to remove Ka'al from power with little struggle and the people there can return to their normal lives and not have to worry about a tyrant anymore.

Admiral Pike has given me our mission logistics for Ka'al's takedown. We're to hide behind Xentia's lone moon, Ne'nal, for one week, monitoring any communication signals on the planet from a distance. We need to get a feel for what has happened in the five weeks since we've been gone. I have to say, from what little I saw of Ka'al, I don't have high hopes that things are going smoothly planet side. Mak'ai seems to think that he will methodically try and wipe out all remnants of their former culture and replace it with violence and warmongering. Not to mention killing anyone who tries to get in his way or rebel against him. She's afraid that he will ally with the scum of the galaxy, trying to make Xentia known as a feared civilization, and not one of peace and knowledge, like their forefathers had worked for centuries to become.

Our mission is to covertly make our way to the planet's surface and find any sort of resistance movement that may have cropped up and team with them. With their help, we are to infiltrate the capital city and gain access to Ka'al's stronghold. There, with their assistance, we will apprehend Ka'al and bring him to justice for his crimes against the Federation and its assets. With any luck, Ka'al's group will fall without him to rule over them, and the resistance leaders can take over temporarily until the government can be reinstated. From what we've learned from Mak'ai, Ka'al is feared, not respected, and she believes that the majority of the population will be overjoyed to see him gone. Once in custody, Ka'al will be brought to trial for his crimes and Starfleet will deal with him as they see fit. If he should be killed, our alliance with the resistance should be an acceptable reason to have involved ourselves.

I can't say I'm one-hundred percent excited to go back to a planet that nearly did me in five weeks ago, but we're the only ones for the job. This time we're better prepared, mostly thanks to Mak'ai and her willingness to help us with the mission. She will be accompanying us down to the planet, and will be essential in ensuring the success of the operation. Hopefully, in less than three weeks' time, we'll have Ka'al in detention and be speeding back to Earth. I could use a little R and R back home.

I miss my bed.

End log.

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

"Bones, I really don't need another check-up."

McCoy crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the Captain. "Like hell you don't. You're still not at one-hundred percent, Jim. I need to make sure you're ready for an away mission. Now take your shirt off."

Kirk's eyes glimmered with mischief. "Why don't you help me, Doctor?"

"Quit being so juvenile. Don't make me sedate you."

Kirk chuckled and dutifully removed his uniform top. He sat still on the edge of the biobed while McCoy worked his fingers over his shoulder, gently running over the thick pink scar still there. He palpated the shoulder blade before finally taking Jim's arm in his hands, rolling the joint around to test range of motion. "Any pain? Tingling in your fingers?"

"Nope."

McCoy held Jim's arm out straight. "Keep your arm extended. Hold it up as long as possible." He let go.

Kirk sighed and did as he was told, whistling quietly as he swung his legs absentmindedly. After a long moment, his arm began to shake, dropping ever so slightly.

McCoy raised an eyebrow and narrowed his gaze. Kirk's arm faltered more, the young Captain struggling to keep it level. The doctor watched as Jim clenched his jaw. He shook his head. "Just what I suspected. The muscles and joint aren't strong enough yet."

"So? I can use the arm just fine."

McCoy scowled. "Just because you can use it, doesn't mean it won't quit on you when you're up shit creek." He pushed Kirk back until he was lying flat on the biobed. He silently pressed on Jim's abdomen, concentrating deeply as he moved his nimble fingers across the scars. He worked his hands around the navel and finally up towards Kirk's ribs, feeling each one in turn. He noticed a tiny wince in Jim's expression. "Any of this hurt? And don't lie to me."

Jim hesitated. "N-no. Nothing hurts. Just like last time—and the ten times before that." Kirk tried to sit up, but the doctor forced him back down.

"I mean it, dammit. You need to be truthful. If I clear you and something goes wrong, it's my head."

Jim huffed and looked away. "Alright, it hurts, okay?"

"Where and how bad?"

Kirk grasped McCoy's hand and guided it to a spot right under his left lowest rib. "Here. And not all the time. Only when you press on it or we get a little too…active."

"When did this start?"

Jim exhaled. "It's always been there. Dull and aching."

"Why didn't you tell me before? I could have given you something for pain management. It's probably just nerves and muscles healing and getting used to the fact that you've no longer have a spleen sittin' there—I didn't feel any masses—but you still should have told me. What if it had been something serious, Jim?" McCoy could feel his cheeks flushing. He knew he needed to keep his cool.

"Sorry, okay, Bones?" Kirk sat up. "I really thought it was nothing."

McCoy frowned. "Don't keep things from me, darlin'. You don't have to suffer in silence."

Kirk offered a soft smile. "I was never suffering. Just uncomfortable once and a while." He reached out and patted McCoy's forearm. "Don't worry."

"'Don't worry' he says. How soon you forget that practically every time you say that, the shit hits the fan and you end up in here bleeding from your ears or nursing a broken something-or-other."

Kirk grabbed his shirt from the side table and slid it over his head. "Yeah, but you're always here to fix it, Bones." He stood and grabbed the doctor by the shoulders. "Am I cleared, or what?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I want you to do two more physical therapy sessions with Nurse Bonham, then I'll clear you for all active duty and away missions." He took a quick look around Sick Bay before pecking Kirk on the cheek. "And don't you dare skip out on them. I'll find you and make you regret it."

Kirk smirked wickedly. "Is that a promise, Doctor?"

"Get out of here, dammit. You're driving me crazy."

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

"Still enjoying our grand ship after five weeks in space?"

Mak'ai smiled warmly at Hikaru Sulu. The pair sat at a small table in the officer's mess, Mak'ai a guest of the helmsman. She stirred her mug of hot cocoa. "I love it. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it to be this spectacular. Besides, I can't get decadent treats like this on Xentia. We don't have chocolate." She raised her cup and took a long drink.

"Glad to hear you've taken to the Enterprise so warmly. We've got a great crew and one hell of a Captain."

Mak'ai savored her warm drink. "Even though I have only had the honor to travel with you for a relatively short time now, I can say that Captain Kirk's command is nothing like I have ever experienced before. He is gentle when he needs to be, but leads with gusto and strength when the situation warrants it. There's no one I could equate it to on Xentia. Our leaders were timid, and while they were wise, they lacked the power to assert themselves if the need should arise. And look where it got them—Ka'al is in the seat of power and my people are dying."

Sulu reached out and patted her hand. "We're going to make sure that Ka'al is removed from what he thinks is power. The Federation won't let your people down."

Mak'ai nodded. "Thank you, Mister Sulu. I know that Captain Kirk will do everything he can to ensure that my fellow Xentians gain access to the future they deserve, not one that a madman has chosen for them." She sighed. "I just fear for him, having to go back to the place that nearly took his life."

"Jim Kirk is the toughest man I have ever met. Yes, he had a serious injury last time. But…" Sulu shook his head in disbelief. "…he's never been one to let the threat of injuries keep him from doing what's right. Much to Doctor McCoy's chagrin."

Mak'ai chuckled and sipped her beverage. "So I've been told. I know that he's the best chance my fellow countrymen have of regaining what was once ours."

A throat cleared behind them. "Well, if I have any say in the matter—which I won't—he'll be wearing Kevlar and be inside a damn force field the whole time. Mind if I join you?"

Mak'ai extended her hand towards the vacant seat next to her and watched McCoy sit, setting his tray down on the tabletop. "Isn't that a bit excessive, Doctor?"

McCoy scoffed. "Not when Jim's concerned. He has a tendency to attract trouble like a damn rare earth magnet."

"Well then, I guess body armor is in order then."

McCoy shook his head while Sulu tried to suppress his laughter. "Damn fool'd never wear it. I guarantee he'd bitch about it itching or something, and weasel his way out of putting it on. I don't even try anymore."

"Remember that mission to Aurelon Theta? I think it was the only time you even got him to try the body armor on and I seem to recall that he actually claimed the suit was turning his skin blue." Sulu concentrated, trying to remember more details. "So, he ditched it and of course, came back to the ship with a spear wound in his back."

McCoy grunted. "I almost didn't fix him that time, just to teach him a lesson."

"Hey, my ears are ringing…you guys aren't talking about me, are you?"

Sulu stood and offered his seat to his Captain. "Of course not, Sir."

McCoy turned in his seat to see Jim, smiling broadly, a salad teetering on his hand, cake in the other. Kirk raised an eyebrow at his helmsman. "You sure? Because you all look pretty guilty right now. Let me guess, Yalaxian fungal spores? Because that story is pretty damn funny."

Sulu looked away sheepishly, his voice quiet. "Actually, it was about your projectile-proof vest…and how you thought it would turn you blue."

Kirk bellowed out a great laugh. "You still can't prove that it wouldn't have turned me colors." He eyed McCoy.

The doctor rolled his eyes. "That's because you won't leave it on long enough to test your incredibly idiotic theory."

Sulu excused himself, chuckling as he left the mess hall as Kirk claimed his vacated seat.

McCoy scoffed at Jim's choice of food as the younger man applied a liberal amount of creamy dressing to his meal. "Cake and salad? Well, at least you're gettin' some greens in you." McCoy shook his head at the Captain. "Just make sure you finish that salad before you devour that cake. I know you, and if I wasn't sitting right here, that dessert would be gone already."

"Yes, mother." Kirk took a bite of the leafy greens. "So Mak'ai, are you getting your studying done for the Academy entrance exams?"

She set her mug down. "Yes, and it's been quite a challenge. And Lieutenant Uhura has been most gracious in lending her time helping me to navigate through all the paperwork for application."

Jim laughed quietly. "Yeah, I never had to do any of that paperwork. Admiral Pike sort of let me in on a technicality."

"A technicality?"

Kirk nodded, stabbing a cucumber with his fork. His voice became quieter. "My father was First Officer on a ship called the Kelvin. It was destroyed during the first Narada Siege and Pike did a dissertation on the disaster. I guess he felt bad for me that I grew up without him and had kind of an awful childhood—so he found me and made sure that I joined up."

Mak'ai's expression saddened. "Ah, yes. The Kelvin. There was a required book for entrance exams on that subject. It was fascinating. For your father to give his life so the others on the ship could be saved—he was truly a hero."

Kirk lowered his eyes to his plate. "Hero? He was just doing what he knew was the right thing to do. It took me a long time to realize that. When I was a kid I felt abandoned, no thanks in part to my shitty upbringing and him being gone was at the forefront." He sighed heavily. "I…don't talk about it much; you'll have to forgive me. It was pretty difficult growing up in someone's shadow—especially when you never met said person. It's actually been a long time since I thought about him, now that I think about it." Jim's eyes listed off to the side and he stared off into the distance.

McCoy could sense that Jim was retreating into his thoughts and decided to change the subject. "So, Mak'ai, Uhura tells me that you've began teaching her Xentian. She any good?" He reached under the table and patted Jim's knee, reassuring him with a quick smile.

"Her linguistic ability is unlike anyone I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am simply amazed at how quickly she has picked up on even the littlest nuances of my language. She has even mastered verbal aggression. I was in hysterics trying to teach her our foulest words."

Jim offered a warm smile. "The Federation's flagship deserves only the best for her Communications Chief. I'm glad she's with us…even if she can get sassy at times." He smirked. "Don't tell her I said that, though."

"Your secret is safe with me." She winked, then looked to her chronometer. "I must be going. I promised Ensign Willems that I would teach him how to prepare a traditional Xentian vegetable casserole. I'm pleased that your replicator system works so efficiently. I've been able to reproduce almost everything I miss from my home."

The two men stood as she did, respectfully saying goodbye. "Come by Sick Bay later, alright? You need another round of vaccines to prep you for your arrival on Earth next month."

Mak'ai nodded. "Of course, Doctor. Captain, I hope to see you soon."

"Likewise. And don't skip out on those hypos—Bones will hunt you down and stab you when you're not looking."

McCoy crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "That's only reserved for chickens like you, Jim."

Mak'ai laughed. "There is never a dull moment when I'm with you both. It always makes my day." She waved as she turned to leave.

The pair sat once again, Jim scowling at his half-eaten salad. He stared at it for a long moment before pushing it away from him. He finally spoke. "I gotta go, Bones. Come over later?" He stood, grabbing his dishes. "Keep the cake; it's your favorite anyway."

McCoy looked up at Jim, concern in his eyes.

Somethin' spooked him.

"You're just leaving a perfectly good piece of German chocolate Cake? You feverish or somethin'?" He stood and placed a hand on Kirk's forehead.

The Captain pulled back. "I'm fine, really. Just realized that I'm late for my shift."

McCoy eyed him suspiciously. "Whatever you say, darlin'."

Kirk offered a feeble smile. "Thanks, Bones." He grasped the older man's hand quickly and gave it a tight squeeze before departing.

McCoy sat once more, pulling Jim's plate towards him. As he dug into the chocolaty dessert, he caught a glimpse at his chronometer, and realized that Beta shift didn't start for another thirty minutes.

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

The light of Xentia's moon shimmering in the distance illuminated the dark cabin, bathing it in an eerie pale blue glow. The hum of the Enterprise's engines droned from the bowels of the ship, wafting up through the corridors and walls and into the room. The two figures lying in the bed under the window were silent, wrapped in each other's embrace.

McCoy's long fingers raked unconsciously through short blonde hair as the pair slept. The two men curled into each other, one another's body heat making the need for anything more than a thin sheet unnecessary. Jim's toes poked out from underneath the covers, hanging off the edge of the bed.

Peace was to be short-lived.

Jim burrowed his head into the crook of the doctor's neck, moaning and grimacing as some unknown dream took hold of him. His eyelids twitched, jaw clenching as began to push himself away from his bedmate.

The movement startled McCoy awake, and he instinctively brought Kirk closer to him, trying to soothe what he knew was just another in a line of ongoing nightmares.

The kid had experienced them since their first days at the Academy—Jim had tried to hide it at first, passing them off as simple bad dreams—but McCoy had known different. At least once a month, Kirk would wake up screaming, slicked in a sheen of cold sweat, trembling to the point of almost vomiting. He would bolt into the small bathroom they shared and lock himself in, most of the time not emerging until the dawn light filtered through the windows. McCoy would sit vigil on those nights, eyes centered on the bathroom door, ears hyper-sensitive to the almost inaudible sounds coming from behind it. He knew Jim was crying. He could hear the muffled, choked sobs. He always waited, hoping that his friend would come out and confide in him.

And in the morning, Kirk would appear showered and clean shaven, a broad smile on his face. No trace of the past night's episode visible in his expression, his mood. Cadet reds crisp and pressed, he would grab his PADD and messenger bag and rush out to whatever class he would undoubtedly pass with flying colors without even trying, flashing his signature cocky grin as he met the new day with gusto.

Never a mention of whatever had plagued him the night before.

It had taken Jim months to trust McCoy enough to let him into his dream states. It had started innocently enough, with Kirk finally admitting that he was even experiencing nightmares. One night, after a particularly tame one—Kirk didn't retreat into the restroom—Jim shared that he had dreamt of his father.

"I can see the Kelvin, Bones. I can see his face as he steered her into the Narada."

Jim had hugged his knees close to his chest and rocked slightly as he recalled the dream. His eyes were distant and sad.

"Only right at the moment of impact, he looks away for just a second…and when he turns back—it's my face instead."

Leonard remembers Jim shuddering at the thought. Even in the darkness of the dimly-lit room, he could see that the color had drained out of the kid's face. That night Jim had stayed awake until morning, Leo sitting quietly by his side listening, allowing McCoy access to years of haunting images and terrible memories.

That night, McCoy learned what it was like to be Jim Kirk.

To live with his demons.

Jim had bared his soul to him, swearing him to secrecy for all he was told. And Leonard dutifully agreed, honored that Kirk would share himself like that, exposing fears that ran deep, flaws that the young man kept buried under layers of bravado.

George Kirk.

Frank.

Abuse.

Neglect.

Booze.

Jail.

…Tarsus IV.

Kirk had wept openly by the time he allowed the deluge relating to Tarsus cascade from his mouth. McCoy could tell by the way he wrapped his arms around himself, how he buried his face in his hands, as if he were hiding from the awful truth, that he hadn't talked about this shit in a long time.

Possibly ever.

Leo nearly broke as Jim recalled the events of the genocide in the ill-fated colony. The terror in his friend's eyes as the name "Kodos" escaped from his lips—McCoy had never seen Jim that afraid. And the fact that he was actually sitting in the same room with one of the Tarsus Nine? Leo didn't know whether to cry for his friend or worry for his own safety now that he knew.

McCoy knew Jim was taking a huge risk revealing his identity to him, as no one knew what had happened to the Tarsus Nine, and some even doubted their existence at all. As years' worth of pent up frustration, fear and uncertainty tumbled from Kirk's trembling lips, Leonard couldn't help but think of his own upbringing. He had been happy, well-fed, never neglected. He thought back to what he had to have been doing when Jim was on Tarsus.

Graduating from high school. His first time with a woman. Cavorting around his family's property in his grandfather's beat up pickup truck, not worrying about when his next meal would be or if he would be beaten that night.

And all the while, across the galaxy in some shithole dying colony, Jim was fighting for his life and starving. Leo felt like such an ass for complaining about his life sometimes.

This monthly—sometimes weekly, if Jim was particularly plagued by something—tradition of recovering from dreams just became a regular part of their relationship. They never spoke of it outside of the actual incidents; in fact, McCoy could tell that Jim would be purposely distant the day after an event. Then they would go back to normal, continuing on with their everyday lives. Jim annoying the shit out of McCoy, acing his classes, bar fights and loose women. And secretly, Leonard would bide his time, knowing that the next difficult night could be just around the corner.

This went on for months—years—always changing, growing in their relationship. More times than not, Jim would welcome a soothing pat on the back or a shot of something strong—whichever happened to be readily available at the time. But there would also be those times where Kirk would retreat into his mind, still barricading himself in the bathroom, only emerging when tears would no longer fall from dry and exhausted eyes.

Whatever the situation was, however Jim reacted to the terrifying images that beleaguered his tormented dreams, Leo was always there. And he vowed to always be.

So by this time in their relationship, Leo knew just what to do. He gently rubbed Jim's cheek and whispered in his ear as the young man tried to squirm away from him.

"Shhh, darlin'." He buried his face into Jim's pillow, bringing his mouth closer to his Captain's face. "It's alright, Jim. I'm right here."

Kirk began to thrash, arms flailing even as they were being held back by McCoy's own. His breathing was fitful and uneven.

"No! Dad!"

Jim sat bolt upright in bed, shoving McCoy away with such force that the doctor was nearly knocked off the side. Kirk sat, hunched over and gasping for breath. His whole body quaked violently, causing the mattress to shake underneath them. Leonard inched closer slowly, raising his arm to wrap around Jim's shoulders. For a moment, Kirk flinched at his touch, but soon melted into McCoy's embrace and allowed the doctor to fully encompass him with his strong arms. Kirk nuzzled his chin into McCoy's shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Kirk shook his head and uttered a muffled response. "I haven't had that dream in a long time."

McCoy knew which one he was talking about.

"…Only right at the moment of impact, he looks away for just a second…and when he turns back—it's my face instead…"

He sighed and held Jim closer. He knew what Kirk needed at that moment was silence and a warm body to hold him tight. Leonard knew that the tears would come soon enough, and when Jim was done letting loose the flood of emotions that were no doubt running rampant in his brain, he would open up.

They sat in each other's embrace for a good ten minutes, Jim's hiccupping sobs lessening as time went by. The younger man finally pulled away and lay back on his pillow, McCoy following suit and moved in close to Kirk.

Jim sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "I think Mak'ai bringing up the Kelvin today stirred something up, you know?"

Leonard slid his arm under Jim's shoulders to hold him closer. "I could tell. You should have stuck around and talked right then. I might have saved you from the dream."

"I just needed some time to myself, Bones. I'm sorry I didn't—"

McCoy leaned over and quickly kissed him, stopping the words coming out of his mouth. He held his lips against Kirk's for a long moment. When he finally pulled away, he smoothed his thumb over Jim's cheek. "Don't ever apologize for needing to get away, darlin'. You've seen shit in your life that no one should ever have to go through. If you need to retreat every once and a while to deal with it, then damn everybody else. They can suck a rock."

Jim smiled softly. "I just don't want you to think that I don't need you. But…"

"But nothin', Jim. You don't have to explain yourself. I know that you always come to me when you're ready. And you should know that I'll always be waiting. For whatever you have to throw at me."

Kirk nodded silently and curled up next to McCoy. They stayed that way for a long moment before Jim's voice pierced the silence. "Why do you love me? I'm so damn broken."

Because someone needs to be around to fix you.

"Who the hell knows, kid? Love doesn't let you choose…it just happens." He laid his cheek on Jim's hair, the short locks tickling his face. "But I'm glad love chose you. No one else could deal with your shit, that's for sure."

Kirk snorted. "I'm glad it's you, Bones."

"Me too, Jim." He pulled the covers up over them, then turned on his side to face Kirk. He stared into his heavenly blue eyes, astonished that they could still sparkle brilliantly in such low lighting. He offered a warm smile. "Now get some sleep. You've got to start monitoring Ka'al in the morning so we can get the hell out of here in a reasonable amount of time—safely—and get back to Earth." He kissed him tenderly. "Because once we're back home, you're going on mandatory shore leave for a minimum of two weeks. Chief Medical Officer's orders."

Jim smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "Only if you'll join me, Bones."

McCoy scoffed and rolled over. "Who the hell do you think's planning the vacation? Now go to sleep."

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

A/N: Well, here it is! The sequel to Caught in the Crossfire. Huge shout-out to my good friend, Saber Wing, for the title. She can vouch for me that I had many a temper tantrum trying to come up with one. She saved me from tearing my hair out and for that; she will get cookies in her mailbox. So, thank you, girlie!

And of course, mad props to my beta QuietRaine. Thank you, lady!

I hope everyone enjoys this piece as much as the last one and thank you in advance to all that read! I look forward to hearing what you think.

-Bebedora