I am sorry it took me so long. I got distracted and life just gets in the way.

Anyhow, here you go!

There are two flashbacks in here, you will tell they are flashbacks when you came across these symbols. _(O(O)O)_

Disclaimer, I did use lines from the movie and I don't make money off this.

Also, I am sure you are all aware, but just a heads up, I am not going through each scene of the movie. If I did not 'show' it, you can assume nothing had changed in from the movie scene.

Chapter 12:

The Beginning of the End

The blast from Commander Scott's phaser was a bee string to Khan, a man who could take on an army single handedly—something he did mere hours ago. While he could've rode out the stun and taken out the entire bridge in matter of seconds, he allowed his body fall to the ground with a hard thump, his head slamming the floor. He, the former Commander John Harrison, was a decent actor, good at playing a role. While he did not enjoy rolling over showing his belly, he would do that here and jump when he saw an opening.

However, he wasn't expecting the cold fury that the boiled in his stomach at seeing Captain Kirk, his James, break under Marcus' ice cold, cruel words. Crushed under the weight of the videos, James on his knees brought out Khan's primal urges, and an archaic roar grumbled deep inside of him. Khan was aware of the appalling videos, having been ordered to capture those private moments for the Admiral. He wasn't aware of Marcus's plans for the video until he handed them over. Regardless of Marcus' objectives, it wouldn't have changed the outcome as Khan's crew was still on the line, and he would do whatever it took to save them. Yet, the idea that Marcus showed Salaen the videos crossed something deep within him.

Jim and Khan never specifically spoke about Salaen, always dancing around the topic with a profound care. Jim never approached the topic and skirted every attempt at that conversion, even after their first failed attempt of sex. Khan could admit at first that he didn't care, only putting up an act to complete the mission, and that was what this was: a mission. James T Kirk was a mission. A mission he would complete at many means necessary. That hadn't changed over the weeks; yet, the act started to slip gradually and morph into something else. This was unfortunate and was something that surprised the hell out of him. He had started to relish his time with Kirk, bathing in the loyalty and trust the Captain placed on him.

Maybe, this was why something jerked violently inside of him at the sound of James shattering in front of him like a piece of glass. Kirk's grief ridden face was hidden from Khan, but Khan heard the utter devastation on his face. James always had the most expressive eyes, his eyes speaking a million words with one look. Khan loved seeing all of the gorgeous expressions he could pull out of the blonde. James had the most moans, mouthwatering. It was an outrage that anyone was hearing those tones and moans without his permission.

"Turn it off now." Commander Scott hissed, his own voice croaking, while Marcus chuckled.

With all attention pulled from the augment, Khan, rage fueling him, leapt to his feet and allowed his instincts to drive. In seconds, Commander Scott was airborne- toss aside like a ragdoll-, his back slamming hard against the wall; his broken phaser flew out of his hand by sheer force and slid across the floor. Khan had leaped over the control panel with a single jump and heaved Kirk to the aside—aerial for a second- before the Captain could blink. The Captain, his blue eyes dimmer than Khan had seen prior, was slow to react, his movements lagging, as if his mind struggled to restart and wrap itself around what had happened, purging as it went long. It gave Khan a disheartening peek into Kirk's shattered soul.

Marcus' daughter took a step forward to Khan as some kind of shield, her eyes on James. "Wait," she yelled, her hands up. However, Khan, who looked at Carol—if he remembered correctly— like common ant, slammed her to the floor with no hesitation. Carol was nothing, and he couldn't care less if she lived or died, but she was in his way. Though, she could be used as a weapon. She was Marcus' daughter, and Admiral loved her like Khan loved his crew. Marcus stole his crew and attempted to destroy everything Khan held dear. This man had stolen his face and obliterated his past, overriding it in an attempt to use him as his own personal weapon. That was unforgiveable. He would pay Marcus back, starting with Carol Marcus.

His eyes wild, Khan kicked Carol hit in the side, spying Marcus scuttling away from the corner of his eye. Khan growled at the coward, his law locking in place at the man's spinelessness. Refusing to allow Marcus to get far, Khan brought his leg up and slammed it down on Carol's leg, shattering the bone. Her leg twisted in a breathtaking angle, her bloodcurdling cry echoed forcefully through the bridge, snapping Kirk out of his murky haze. Before Khan could land another blow to Carol, Kirk charged, vaulted at him, landing on Khan's back in a failed attempt to pull him away from her. Khan's eyes softened a bit before he could stop it, annoyance flooding him.

Khan rolled his shoulders and shook Kirk off him. He grabbed the Captain by the shoulders and slammed him into the black captain's chair. "Stay down," he hotly hissed into Kirk's ear, as he pressed Kirk hard into chair.

A pained groan escaped from Kirk's lips. "Khan," he breathed, a hiss deep in throat.

Sparing him a glance at his pretty blue eyes, Khan turned his attention back to Marcus who was desperately trying escape. Marcus, who was ignoring his daughter's pain. In his frantic tempt to get out, he repetitively pressed the wrong code, his fingers slipping and hitting the wrong numbers. The key pad peeped angerly with every wrong entry, threatening to lock him out with each failed attempt. Marcus cursed loudly, sweat pouring down his face. Khan, with great speed, launched himself at the man, aiming for the throat. Their body collided with a great force, slamming the admiral into row of stations to his right. The screen shattered, digging into his back. Marcus attempted to shove Khan off, but he swatted the admiral hand.

His pupil flaring like a wild beast, Khan grabbed Marcus by both sides of his head and jerked him forward. Kirk's pain eyes echoed in his head. His crew still in their pods under Marcus' control flashed before his eyes. His now restored memories pushed him forward. Anger already in his veins morphed into something more, something more perilous. His soul roared, and using more strength than necessary, he squeezed. "You should have let me sleep." He hissed waspily. He watched Marcus' red eyes start to pop from their sockets under the pressure.

Marcus, lips purple, let out a pained gurgle, crimson blood leaking slowly from his ears. Carol, even if her father's ideals scared and angered her, screamed- pain mixing in with lost-, tears pouring from her eyes. "NO!" She shrieked, her voice startling the Frozen Kirk.

Khan didn't look back, staring into Marcus' bulging eyes and eating up the fear seeping. He soaked it in, this brain shouting at him to finish it. He wanted to see this man's brain spattered behind him in a beautiful spray. A mystery beast indignantly roared inside of him, demanding blood. He would be a fool not to give in to this primal roar, but he had no interest in denying the beast its meal to begin with. A horrible, wet pop echoed across the bridge as Marcus' skull couldn't handle any more pressure and popped. His brain splattered, coloring the wall like an ugly red painting. Gooey blood, seconds later, dripped down the wall, soaking the ground and Khan.

Kirk, bones cracking, forced himself to his feet, shifting his weight back and forth on his heals. His eyes hastily searched for his forgotten phaser. "Khan," he hissed, unable to find his phaser.

Scott, slowing getting to his feet, promptly puked at the sight. The metallic cooper odor was too much to bear, an invisible hand around their throats. "Shit," he cursed, his accent heavy.

Khan methodically turned, blood dripping down almost every inch of his face. Brain matter was specked across his black Starfleet uniform shirt, barely visible. "James." He breathed out, his eyes falling to the wonderous blues obs. He only allowed himself a second of exploration of those expressive blue eyes before he turned his attention back to Commander Scott. Carol was still screaming—her voice cracking-, tears running down her face, when Khan hopped over the panel once more to get to the Commander. In a blow softer than either Marcus had received, Khan kicked Scott's legs out from underneath him and took him to the ground with a single bloody punch. Scott's head hit the ground hard, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Scotty!" Kirk yelled.

Khan narrowed his eyes and watched. He had no interest in hurting Kirk, not if he didn't have to, but Kirk, Mr. Golden Boy, wasn't the type to stand down from a fight. He would have to take care of the Captain, even if it meant not seeing those pretty blue eyes again.

*O*O*

James T. Kirk's emotions had gone through the ringer today, his brain fried. Beyond fried. His entire body felt heavy; he felt suffocated, his skin tight. This—whatever it was- wasn't physical. It wasn't to say that he didn't have several long and dark bruises on his body—replacing the ones McCoy had healed earlier. However, he was a Captain and a Starfleet Officer. He worked out on the daily basis for hours on end until his hands were raw and red. He ran miles on the treadmill, ran through dense forests on countless away missions. He was used to being physically worn down, so worn down that he had slept for days, but it was different when you were mentally worn down. His brain was going haywire, his body foreign and slow to response. Shit, he was motionless when Khan popped Marcus head like a grape.

Like a rubber band snapping, Jim's armed was harshly twisted behind his back and shoved agonizingly up, his back arching up in pain. Jim hissed, burning aching shooting up his spine and chilling him to the core. A hot shiver ran through him like a sizzling volcano ash. "Khan," he hissed, his voice itching in his suddenly dry throat.

"Reminding you of the good times, Captain," he stated, coldly, playing with his title through his white teeth.

Jim could hear Carol sob a few feet from him. He could only catch a glance of her from his spot, as she, on her hands, scooted herself to her deceased father, her blue uniform soaking up the man's blood. "Get off," he snapped, his voice cracking. "You sick Fuck." Painful memories rushed at him from all side, threatening to take over and send him to the ground. On any other day, he might've fallen, but he was numb, his body stiff. His heavy heart couldn't bare it anymore and quit on him. It left him with a heart shattering realization.

"It's time to hail that First Officer of yours," Khan sneered, pulling Kirk to the control panel.

A maimed groan escaped Jim's lips as Marcus' blood—a transfer from Khan's front-steeped into the back of Jim's shirt. "He won't give you what you want."

"Not even for you?" Khan asked, smiling into Jim's hairline. "Not that I want to give you up."

Khan's breath was hot on his ear, his heart beating against his back. "I'm Captain Kirk." He breathed through his nose, his jaw locked. "I-"

"Enough," Khan demanded, harshly jerking Jim's arm. Jim, powerless, was nothing more than a ragdoll to Khan, who effortlessly dragged him in front of the viewing screen with ease.

Jim's shoulder hissed, and in an attempt to be a disruptive, uncooperative hostage—something that made his skin crawl-, he pushed against Khan, who didn't budge. He was a stone wall; nevertheless, Khan did not appreciate the attempt. Lightning fast, Khan's bloody hand wrapped tightly around his neck and he was slammed face first into the navigator station. The screen cracked, as his cheek was smashed into the buttons on the panel. He yelped when Khan, his nails in his neck, yanked him up.

"I enjoy you, James, but that does not mean I won't kill you." Khan spoke, as he let go Jim's neck and reached for the comm.

"Then do it," Jim hissed, shivering.

"Commander Spock," Khan greeted, his eyes now on viewing screen, which flickered on. "I'm going to make this very simple for you."

"Captain." There was so much emotion in Jim's title that it genuine startled him. His entire body shook at the single word. His range of motion was limited, but he was able to pick his head enough to sneak a peak at Spock. Spock, who's hands were wrapped tightly around the Captain's chair. The Commander eyes were cold. "He is injured." He eyes forced on the blood on the back of Jim's neck.

Khan's eyes narrowed as he followed Spock's hard stare. His eyes unmoving and cold. "It is not his blood." He replied.

"Who does the blood belong to?"

"Spoc-" Jim tried to answer, but the words were knocked out of his mouth by a Khan, swinging him back into navigator station. "Your crew for my crew." Khan demanded.

Spock's eyes, harder and sharper than any human could muster, didn't leave Jim and the thick layer of blood around his neck. It very existence seemed to insult Spock. "You betrayed us."

"Oh, you're so smart, Mister Spock." Khan deadpanned, applying more pressure to Jim's back. Jim bit hard his lip to stop another yelp from escaping.

Normally, Spock wouldn't negotiate with a psychopath, but his temporary First Officer no matter the length took his duties seriously. He would go to the sun and back to save his Captain, even if the Captain ordered him not to. That was one thing Jim hated about him. "Spock don't-" he yelled before only he knew was blackness.

_(O(O)O)_

Jim was pacing back and forth on the Providence, his heart pounding in his chest. His chest felt like someone took a hammer to them. He had no idea why he was so nervous. He wasn't asking John to marry him… Wait. Shit, wasn't it though? He was asking John to be his First Officer, which meant they were going to spend a number of years together if he accepted. For all intents and purposes, they were going to be 'parents' of the ship, the leaders. A power team of two. It was just as much of a commitment if not move. Shit, he cursed, knowing exactly where this fear was coming from.

Spock.

It came from Spock. Fucken Spock.

Spock and Jim's breakup was messy and horrible to say the least, and it almost destroyed a number of careers. Jim, the Golden Boy of Starfleet, had resigned over it, ready to sling beer for the rest of his life—not that was the entire story. That was only part of it, but it was the important part. If that breakup didn't exist. If Spock were there (supporting him as his first officer)—something that would've happened if they never dated-, Jim's entire life wouldn't have flopped and he would still be on the Enterprise. Yes, Jim knew the entirety of that, yes that- whatever that was, wasn't all on Spock. Thanks to Dr. Jones, he was now fully aware of how much power he had. That was nightmare when Jim came to that realization and broke down. (That was not to say that Salaen wasn't the blame because he was.)

That was where this fear grew from. He wasn't asking a friend or a fellow Starfleet Officer to be his First Officer. He was asking his boyfriend to be his OX. Was he asking John simply because he was his boyfriend? No… Yes… Maybe… Crap. However, in his defense, he wouldn't have known about John Harrison if he hasn't been helping with the Providence and they hadn't been speeding so much time with each other getting to know each other. So, while being his boyfriend put John in Jim's sightline, it was John's record that got him the job. It was his skills that earned him this chance.

…What if this all went south? Shit.

This daunting fear spouted from the fact that his boyfriend and his First Officer would be once more held by the same person. It downright terrified him. Terrified him to what could happen if John and he split and forced to work together afterward. Would it end up the same painful, tainted silence it was with Spock? His heart skipped a beat; his skin itched like a thousand bees stings as he thought about that time. Even now, the cool looks from crew haunted him, chilling him to the core. The vice grip on his heart squeezed, ripping the air from his lungs. Everything spun, his stomach flipping. Jim knew this was something he would need to address with Dr. Jones: his mild panic attacks.

No!

The word reverberated in him like a damn loud speaker, snapping Jim out of own head. John, no matter how many times Bones compared the man to Spock, was not Spock. This would not end up like that. John would not react like that. Even if John and he ended, Jim doubted it would end the same way, but that nonsensical concern was there, spreading like a wildfire throughout his body. It was something him and Dr. Jones had discussed in detail many times over. Jim had wanted to bury it deep inside of him and never let it out. Dr. Jones had showed—repeating it as often as Jim needed to hear it- him that there was nothing wrong with feeling like this, and if he was, he needed to voice it. If John were the man that Jim thought he was, he would not judge Jim for it; rather, he would support him and provide that confirmation and comfort he needed.

Yet, Jim was nervous, his palms sweaty.

With a deep breath, Jim forced on a smile onto his sun kissed face. He was fucken James T. Kirk, savior of Earth. He stopped Nero. When he allowed himself a break from the nightmares and believed, there wasn't anything he couldn't do. He could do this. He would do this. The Providence would only benefit from John Harrison serving as his First Officer. They would- A rapid knock at the lift pulled Jim from his thoughts. "Hey." Jim greeted. His smile radiated as he turned to the bridge's entrance. The bridge was mostly complete, only missing a few finishing touches—like chairs.

"Good morning, Captain." John spoke, smiling the charming grin of his. His eyes sparkling under the artificial light, he looked amazing in his tight Starfleet blacks, which displayed his nice round ass, and had a PADD in his hand. "Are you okay, James?" His eyes growing soft, he observed the tiny twitches in the Captain's forehead and cheeks.

Jim nodded and voiced a soft, "Yes," as he turned to the main viewing screen. He took deep breath, centering himself and calming his nerves. He focused on the view, which was spectacular now that the Providence had been launched into space. It made it real now that his new ship hovered in Space. "What a sight." The round curvature of Earth was visible, and the oceans of the world glowed under the harsh rays of the sun, which threatened to blind the Captain.

"James," John called again, making his way to the front the bridge. His steps echoed on the quiet bridge.

Said man took a deep breath, pushing back any nerves that he might've had. "BemyFirstOfficer!" It just exploded from his lips in a rapid precession, his cheeks red from his sudden outburst.

"Slower, James." John teased with a smile. He tilted his head to the side.

With a deep breath and a large exhale, Jim repeated, "Be. My. First. Officer." A pause between each word.

John's face suddenly locked up like a high security prison, his eyes hardboiled. Something morphed behind his soft blues eyes, a hardened beast. "Captain," he mouthed, his teeth clicking.

Desolation befallen like a heavy storm on Jim's face as the heartbreaking realization settled at the abrupt change on John's face. Sure, Jim had feared John would say no, but he never truly expected John to say no. In his heart of hearts, John had said yes. Painfully and excitedly, John and he made a good team, working as one unit with very little words said between them. It made Jim yearn for the past, no matter how logical it was. Working alongside each other made the hole left by Spock smaller, even if it bought up memories. They fit. Jim wanted that in his First Officer. He thought John felt it too with every smile, but that whole image shattered. "Why?" he asked, his lungs heavy.

The Commander didn't say anything, intently and silently staring into Jim's blue eyes. He watched the expressions transformed on his lover's face.

Jim's skin crawled, his mind going to the worse place. Any happiness gone. "Why?" he asked again, his voice breaking. "John." Again, John didn't answer, abnormally still. "Aren't we a good team?" He paused as he tried to collect himself. "…Shit, the crew is making jokes about it behind our backs." It was no secret that Scotty and Chekov hated the man with Bones on the fence, but even they were wowed at how they worked together. Almost seamless- though this teamwork had yet to be battle tested.

"Admiral Marcus-"

"I can speak to him!" Jim interjected loudly and forcefully. "We can be the dream team." He waved around, his eye touching on every station. His hands danced wildly in the air as he pointed to each one. "This ship is the dream ship. Just think of all the things we will see and do. Chekov might-"

"I cannot accept, James."

Jim's heart clenched in his chest, his lungs heavy. "I don't-"

"Stop." John ordered, stiffy.

"I just…" His words getting lost on Jim's tongue. "I-I need to know why? Did I do something? Or is it just that you don't want it?"

John stared at Jim, a heavy crease on his forehead. "I do not want it."

Something felt wrong, the answer weighing heavier than usual. "Does that include me?" Jim asked, annoyed at even himself. He knew he had allowed himself to fall too soon for this man. Allowed himself to get attached too soon, his heart winning the fight against his brain. He had once voiced this concern to Dr. Jones, hoping the man would tell him no, but the Doctor simply asked him why he felt that way. To this day, Jim couldn't answer, and now, he was unsure of himself and what to say. All he could do was wait for an answer from John. When there wasn't one, he added a pitiful. "John." He spoke loudly- Pain written all over him.

John's expression was conflicted. "I need you to understand that-"

"Just say it! No need to beat around the bush." Jim hissed, his left-hand balling at his side. His nails dug into his flesh. How could he have missed this? Why the hell did he allow himself to fall for this man? God, he lo—wait, what? No, that… Jim violently shook that thought from his head. "Are… Are you breaking up with me?" A wounded silence soaked the bridge, seeping into Jim's skin. "Just spit it out."

"Yes."

The answer was blunt and stiff, and it knocked the air right out of Jim. This was not what he expected. "Did I do something?" Jim tried to keep up a strong front, but he was shattering. What did he do? Had he done something wrong? God, it felt like someone had slapped him hard across the face. "Where is this coming from?"

John kept up the distance between them. "I need you to understand that," he started again, "this is not on you. I cannot continue this relationship for my own personal reasons and goals."

Goals? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He snapped, slapping down the PADD he had in his hand. "What kind of bullshit is this? Not on me? Really? That's what people say when they're trying to be pleasant."

"Our careers are on two different paths, and I was foolish to forget that."

The level of calmness in John unnerved Jim and pissed Jim off. It was like he was ending a business meeting rather than a relationship. And fuck him. Jim being Jim did the only thing he could do. "You're dismissed, Commander," he stated through his teeth. There was so much more he wanted to say, his pain screaming inside of him.

John stood there for a few seconds, his eyes drilling into Jim. "James, I need you to-"

"Stop!" His throat hissed at the volume.

"I do not want you to-"

Jim slammed his fist down on the control panel. "I don't need or want your 'it's not me it's you' speech. So, if you are done, you can leave." His voice was cold as his blue eyes turned glossy, tears threatening to fall.

John didn't move at first, taking a few seconds before turning to the exit. Jim watched him, refusing to allow his eyes to drop to the man's ass like they had done many times in the past. John hesitated at the lift as the doors slid open at his arrival. The commander turned. "I do not want to leave you like this. I know you, Captain Kirk. You will internalize this and blame yourself, which is farthest from the truth." He paused, turning fully to Jim. "This is not on you. You are amazing, James. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

"But not you," Jim responded, grimly.

"Not me."

Jim wanted to scream, curse John for doing this now, but he pushed all those thoughts away. His heart may be breaking at this moment; yet, he didn't want to say something he would regret. He wasn't sure why. Granted, he wasn't sure what he would even say. A part of him wished he could take back whatever this was to avoid his anguish, his mind already flashing back to the hate on Spock's face. God, he couldn't go through that again; on the other hand, a part of him didn't want to take this back. He hadn't felt like this, himself, in ages, and he wouldn't change that for anything.

"James." John spoke, breaking the silence.

Jim cleared this throat, his throat parched. "Just go." His voice croaked. John, hesitating, nodded and left. It was at this point that Jim allowed himself to fall apart, tears running down his red face. A heavy, wet sob escaped his dry lips, as his knees shook beneath him. His hands reached out to the panel, his nails snapping under the sudden pressure. His eyes tight, he fell against the station and allowed himself to collapse sluggishly down to the ground. Once his ass hit the floor, he curled up in a ball burying his face in his arms.

This is how Bones found his best friend a few hours later: sobbing and shaking. It didn't take long before Bones was raging mad and ready to hunt down a certain Commander, but one look at Jim stopped him in his tracks. A ship could be exploding, but he would not leave Jim. He would hold for Jim until the wee hours in the morning, whispering softly that he did nothing wrong. Whispering how amazing he was and Harrison was a damn fool.

_(O(O)O)_

Kirk didn't come to until Scotty, Carol and he were beamed back to Enterprise—in a sick joke, the brig- and an explosion rocked the ship; it took a few seconds for his mind and the dust to clear. Scotty was yelling a foot from his ear, waving at the security guards and demanding they be release, but it was all nonsense to Jim. Moving on autopilot, he helped Scotty drag Carol to the sickbay, the cries around him going over him. It wasn't until Spock's words echoed ('Crew of the Enterprise, prepare for imminent proximity detonation) loudly in the open air that Jim's brain snapped back.

"What's he talkin' about? What detonation?" Scotty asked, loudly over Carol's pained moans.

It took Jim's mind a few spins to come back with an answer as the gears in his heads were slow to move. A burst of adrenaline flooded him. "The torpedoes. He armed the damn torpedoes!" Jim quickened his pace, forcing Scotty to pick up his pace. Carol let out another blood curling scream as her broken leg dragged behind them. Jim shoot her look before he pushed ahead. "Come on!" He yelled, pulling them in the direction of the Sickbay.

*O*O*

Jim and Scotty hung onto the railing, holding on by their fingernails, while the screams of the crew, plummeting to their death, echoed behind them. It would leave a haunting scar. The Captain in Jim screamed, hollering at the senseless murder of his crew, temporary or not. Anger bubbled through Kirk as he pulled himself up, his muscles strained. Marcus maybe have been the mastermind behind all of this, the man who started it, but Fucken Khan. He was the reason why the body count was so fucken high. Why bodies were flying all around them.

"Attention, all decks. Evacuation protocols initiated. Proceed to exit bays and report to your assigned shuttle." The computerized voice announced over the ship wide intercom.

Scotty groaned loudly as he pulled himself up. The Enterprise wasn't their ship anymore, but damn, this was heartbreaking. "There won't be time for an evacuation if we don't get power to stabilize the damn ship!" His accent was heavy with anger and frustration.

"Can we restore it?" Jim yelled back, his heart roaring in his chest. His vision clouded by sweat.

"Only from engineerin'. We've to get back to the warp core." He stated getting to his feet.

As Jim got to his own feet, a nauseating sensation bloomed in his gut, as the ship suddenly and sharply turned ninety degrees and slammed the men into the railing. No doubt they would be covered in bruises by tomorrow.

"Jim?"

Said man shook his head, trying to knock out the doom feeling that had taken hold deeply in him. "Scotty!" His chest ached when his lungs expanded. "We've got to get the power back on! Come on!" Jim reached back to Scotty and pulled him forward. There was no hesitation in the Commander, his heart pounding, as he chased after his Captain, struggling to keep up with him. The two men hustled to the core, running along the wall with their hands on the wall for support. Voices of crew vibrated in the background, their fear heavy in their voices.

"We got to jump!" Jim yelled as they came to an intersection, an intersection on a normal day was a fork in a hallway.

"What?" Scotty's eyebrows went up to his hairline.

Jim didn't blink or slow down. Blood pumped through his veins, excitement rushing him like a drug and pushing him forward. Besides the life-threatening issue on their hands, this was what Jim lived for. This was what Jim loved. He loved getting his hands dirty—which probably pointed to some other mental problems-, and while he shouldn't allow him to thrive on this high, his mind and heart drove head first. He needed to get lost in this adrenaline or else he would die in his heartbreak. "Jump! Jump!"

"Oh, God."

_(O(O)O)_

"Oh, God!" Chris Pike laughed. His laugher filled the room as his cheeks reddened.

"It isn't funny!" Jim protested, loudly.

Chris, a cold beer in his hand, tossed his head back as another wave of laugher hit him. "I beg the differ." He snorted.

Jim, his back pressed firmly against the sofa's arm rest, animatedly turned, the beer in his own hand splashing wildly in the bottle. With a hand to his chest, a faux wounded expression danced across his red face. "Ouch! I see how it is." His blue eyes sparkled under artificial lights of Pike's home.

"I have captained a starship for years—" Jim snorting, earning a soft glare from Pike. "- and you still had torn more shirts in six months than I did in that entire time." Chris smiled into lip of the bottle, almost choking on the liquid in one of his chortles.

Jim groaned as the last mission flashed before his eyes. "I don't even know how it happens half the time." He really didn't. The last time, both Bones and he went tumbling down the hill face first, but only he came up with a torn golden tunic and black undershirt. Bones was dirty, but his shirts were in one piece. And the time before that, Jim's shirt was torn in a meeting with some Patricians on a new found planet. Jim couldn't even begin to tell you what happened.

"At some point, the quartermaster is going to start charging you, Son."

A lot of people had called Jim 'son' throughout the years, each igniting a fire inside of him, but when Pike called him son, he was filled with warmth and love, even his toes were hot. "How much do you think that would be?"

Chris looked up, a hum on his lips. "The quartermaster might be feeling a vengeful. He might only give you ugly green shirts…" He paused and with an afterthought, added, "Or purple."

"I would look good in any color," Jim grinned with a full smile; his white teeth sparkled.

The Admiral snorted. "And apparently shirtless."

Jim groaned as he threw his head back. "Not my fault the universe wants me shirtless."

"I suppose it could be worse. You could be allergic to everything under the sun," Chris teased, taking another slip. There was no containing the wild laugh that escaped Jim's lips. He was barely cognizant in his fits of laugher, but he was aware enough to put his beer on the side table before he went down. "Poor Doctor McCoy. I bet he's wishing he sat next to someone else on that faithful day."

It took a few tries for Jim a few deep breaths to calm down. "Hey now," he protested. "I'm a dream. Everyone's life is better with me in it." Pike smiled, a true smile. His crow feet put on show. The Admiral didn't answer right away, and silence formed for a few long seconds. Jim, being Jim, had to force his brain from jumping to the wrong decision. "Chris?" His eyes grew soft, worried, as he glanced at the only father he truly knew.

"Don't go there, Kid." He replied as he repositioned himself on the sofa to face Jim. "I love you…" He paused, his mind looking for the right words. "I know I'll never be George Kirk, and I could never replace him for you-God, he would be so proud of you." He took another breath as if he were frustrated with himself. "I don't want to replace him," he repeated, his eyes glossy. "I wish things could've been different. I wish you could've met him. He-"

"What are you getting at?" Jim asked, his throat dry. George was never a topic that Jim wanted to talk about, this rule ingrained into him from his mother.

Pike put his beer down and reached a hand to Jim. "I…I know I'm not your father, but I see you as my son, Jim. I want to be, and I wish that-" Jim didn't let the man finish before he launched himself at Pike, who groaned under the abrupt impact. Mumbling, he buried himself in Pike's embrace and crumbed against the man's chest, words even unclear to the blond. "What did you say?" he asked, a smile on his face.

Jim didn't want to move. He and Chris didn't talk or were touchy freely all the time; most times, they didn't need to. It was clear in everything that Chris did for him. Chris was the reason why Jim was here. Chris was the reason why Jim was still alive and not dying in an alley, wasting away. Chris never gave up on him. That said everything that Jim needed to hear and know, but god, it was felt like the Heavens were shining down on him at those words. Jim picked up his head and smiled. "I love you too, Pops." At this point, both of them were crying.

The Admiral did not reply, but he did not need to. Nothing else needed to be said; instead, he wrapped his arms around Jim and held him.

_(O(O)O)_

"Evacuation protocols initiated. Proceed to exit bays and report to your assigned shuttle."

Jim cursed the damn computerized voice as it repeated for the nth time. He knew why and knew it would not stop consider the ship was drying, but damn, these words mocked him. He left the Enterprise, and everything went to shit. His ship was dying, his crew was drying, and it was his fault.

Granted, he would rather hear that computerized warning than, "Core misaligned. Danger."

The color on Scotty's face drained. "Oh, no, no, no, no!" He bellowed loudly, as he slammed his fist down on the station.

"What?!" Jim expressed loudly, noticing the Commander's panic. He had a vague idea, having listened to the engineer's mumble, when he had gone on and on about the core, but Jim had no idea why it felt like the world had just exploded.

The expression on Scotty's face could freeze the sun. As if he didn't believe the readings, he scanned it again. "The housings are misaligned. There's no way we can redirect the power!" His hands shook. "The ship's dead, sir. She's gone." He was devastated.

Jim looked at him before staring at the glass door that separated them from the dangerous radioactive core. A hard realization hit. It was odd: a million things passed through his mind in a matter of seconds, each hitting him like a truck. Yet, there was no hesitation in him. Jim wasn't sure if it was his broken heart, his soul wishing for the pain to stop, or the Captain in him, but he was going to do it. He was never going to let his crew die if he could stop it. It wasn't even a question. "No, she's not." He stated firmly.

"Wait, Jim!" Scotty yelled, his confusion and shock present on his face and tone. In a daze, he followed his Captain. "If we go in there, we'll die!" His expression hardened. "Do you hear me?! The radiation will kill us!" Jim didn't stop. "Will you listen to me?" He reached out to Kirk, shaking him hard. "What the hell are you doing?"

Honestly, Jim had no fucken idea what he was doing, no clue how to fix the core but it felt right. It felt like it was the only thing that he could do. Everything else was falling apart around him, but this he could do this. He would save this ship even if he died. It would be the last good thing he would ever do, and he was okay with that. It would be an honor. "I'm opening the door. I'm going in."

"That door is there to stop us from getting' irradiated! We'd be dead before we made the climb!" Scotty was despite.

The word 'we' shook Jim, saddened and gladdened at the same time. Yet, he wouldn't allow Scotty to make the climb with him. "You're not making the climb." Kirk, with quick reflexes, turned and punched Scotty squarely in the face, knocking him out. Catching the man, his heart flickered at the thought of what Scotty would think of him when he came to. The anger that would grace his New First Officer's face could not stop him. Maybe, Pike would give the Scottish man the Providence, and maybe that would be enough for man.

It was enough for Captain Kirk to know that he saved his crew. It would be enough to know that they would go on. It would the best thing he could do for them. It would be how he paid them back for being so reckless regarding Khan. For being so stupid. He would s-

Shaking that train of thought from his head, Jim dragged the motionless Scotty back to the seat in front of the engineering panel, sat him down and activated the seat belt. He didn't wait for the seatbelt to click before he turned back to the glass door and the warp core. Without another thought, he slammed his hand down on the control panel, opened the door to the warp core and headed up the Jefferies tube while Enterprise spiraled down to the atmosphere in an uncontrol fall.

As if to curse him reminding him of how important this was, the computerized voice Danger announced, "Core misaligned."

The end for now!

When Khan popped Marcus' head, I envisioned the scene bloodier than how it was in the movie. I know why they didn't make it blood, but in real life, that shit be hell a bloody. Blood be everywhere.

You will be getting more flashbacks in the next chapter, don't worry! I just wanted to show some Kirk and Pike Father/son moments.

Until Next time. Stay safe.