captain james t. kirk

i wonder what jim kirk thinks of father’s day

Bones would by lying if he said he didn’t watch Jim as he read it, but looked away when he sat down next to him. Despite his eyes burning at the thought of the message on his PADD, which he put gently down on his desk again before he threw it against the wall, he couldn’t help but snort at the Captain’s words. That was his life though, wasn’t it? Always getting the shit end of the stick.

     Kirk could feel the energy draining out of him, even as they spoke. There was so much to consider that he didn’t quite know what to say or do. There wasn’t much. Though he wanted to put his head in his hands and think, he didn’t. A captain could only show so much weakness, a friend even less. Bones needed him, whether or not he knew it. And Jim had no intention to let the man down. If he got mad, it was better than whatever this was. Distractions were okay. Jim was good at distractions.

“Don’t insult my grandmaw, maybe she’ll be the reason why you don’t loose your head from sleep deprivation.” He smirked a bit and sat on a chair near Jim’s bed. He remembered bringing it here from his own quarters that time (that second time since the beginning of this five years mission) when he had to watch Jim recovering from some selfless act he made again. He hated that chair, but it was useful. With a pang in his chest, Leonard knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would sit there watching over Jim. 

     ‘If you say so. But this still tastes like hell. I just hope this doesn’t knock me out for fourteen hours like those red pills you gave me when we were at the academy.’ Actually, now he thought about it, he’d stolen those. That had been one bitch of a hangover. He wasn’t keen on finishing the tea very quickly with that renewed memory now surfaced. He felt ill thinking about it. Kirk sipped again and this time kept a relatively straight expression. He leaned back again, slumped against the headboard and looking very much the child he often pretended to be. Not once did his eyes leave the doctor, even as he drank the foul concoction. Whatever this was, it was masquerading as herbal.

As surprising as the doctor not snarking at Jim before, he actually listened to him without arguing. He stopped cleaning his desk, balling up the rag in his hand. Bones opened his mouth to say something, to try and explain it, but he knew he couldn’t. Because it would just shatter him even more and he didn’t want Jim to see that. Didn’t want anyone too.

     Jim took the PADD, quiet dread roiling in his chest. He knew what it was about when he read the sender in the heading. ‘Shit.’ That had been involuntary, but at the same time—pertinent. As he read on, eyes narrow, he thought the word was too kind. He could think of a number of alternatives. Kirk chose not to say any of them as he handed the message back over and joined McCoy, seating himself in the assistant’s chair. Hunching himself over, hands clasped together, Kirk was silent for a long time. He didn’t trust himself not to sound like an asshole. The doctor didn’t take well to sympathetic looks or classic words of comfort, and it was a fine line to walk as a friend.

Bones, much to Jim’s surprise, said nothing. That was the thing between them, no matter what Jim said, he would always have something witty to say back. Even if it wasn’t even witty, it was something that was on his mind, or just something so that he could have the last word.

     He’d been expecting pretty much anything but silence, even down to taking a moderately defensive position near the door, hunched in like he was just waiting for Bones to bear down on him with the usual empty threats. When they didn’t come, Kirk straightened himself out and approached McCoy. ‘Bones. Stop for a second.’ He should have addressed this sooner. Naturally, this realization came too late and with a side of boiling guilt. ‘What’s going on? Don’t make me order you to tell me. I will do it, ethically questionable or not.’

“It’s not a frenzy Jim.” Bones swept past him, rolling his eyes. “This is a place that’s supposed to be clean, and after every day I clean it. Unless you want to get sick with what that ensign had from the recent planet we were stopped over. Poor bastard can’t stop throwing up a purple substance. Managed to stop it, but he’s in bed rest for a week. If you want that to be you, be my guest.”

     Kirk nodded, doing his utmost worst to hide his smile. He looked down at the spotless ground until he’d managed to reconfigure his expression into something that wouldn’t make the doctor want to maliciously infect him with something embarrassing. ‘No, no. You’re right, Bones. But you could be a little less vicious.’ The captain knew he was treading some rather unforgiving water (and yet this was still less terrifying than the bridge), but he knew he could pull rank if it became necessary. He didn’t want it to.

“Yeah.” Gwen said, laughing again slightly. “Yeah… making them happy is a little hard, but I manage to make it happen sometimes.” It was a little harder than she had made it seem. They were very hard to please, and even though they didn’t want their daughter to join Starfleet, she joined anyway. It was to make her happy. Not them. “Tell them about the wonderful crew I have the pleasure of working with.”

Kirk nodded. He knew enough about dysfunctional family situations to understand. He didn’t offer her any words of sympathy, and she didn’t ask. Her natural inclination to change the subject mirrored his own. He had to respect it. ‘Hah, well. Let’s see if you feel that way when we’re a year into this mission.’ Though as he said it, he had a difficult time believing she’d experience many crew-related hardships. She’d proven herself smart enough to stop him in his tracks. ‘I’m mostly kidding. But you’ll learn quickly. And as Captain, it’s my duty to offer whatever help you may need in future.’ He didn't mention that the offer would have stood even if he wasn't.