Breaking of a Stallion

It hurts, everything does. He can't see, he can't hear, and he can't breathe. His world is darkness and his sense of touch has been lost, both physically and mentally. The world around him is shaking and crumbling away. Coldness is surrounding him, causing his body to shiver and for muscles to tighten around bruised bones. His mind is screaming, sprinting circles around the millions of cries that has crashed into his thoughts. Pleads, people begging, last thoughts; they're all there.

He keeps hearing them, they whisper mute cries of terror and sorrow. The voices are all distraught, caught in a reality none of them imagined.

They're not supposed to be there. He shouldn't be hearing this.

The pain is acute, sharp and stabbing in his temple. It pulses with his rapid heartbeat, and only strengthens with each raspy gasp of air his constricted lungs can handle.

It just hurts.

He tries to call out, to say something, to find Bones, but only a wheeze passes his chapped lips.

He has to calm down, he has to focus.

With cold sweat sticking to his face, matting his hair, he manages to open his eyes. He's in the viewing room, space drifting lazily in front of him. The Enterprise's engines are spurting, running off impulse power only.

He places his hands onto the metal floor, grounding himself to the present. If he closes his eyes the screams get louder and more intense.

Jim keeps staring, letting his lungs slowly expand to gather in the filtered air.

He's okay, the ship's okay.

"Captain Kirk?"

The voice that summons him is soft and uncertain.

He chokes on his words. He's on the verge of boiling over and he's not sure if he can handle a conversation with another human being, not right now, not yet.

"Kirk?"

The voice explores, footsteps coming closer.

"Kirk are you okay?"

It's Uhura, her red dress dirty, her face marked with stress from the day.

"Yeah. Fine." He manages, stuffing his hands between his bent knees, hoping to hide the shaking.

"Have you gone to Sickbay yet? I'm sure Doctor McCoy will be expecting you." Uhura continues rather cautiously.

The two of them had quite a history back at the academy. They had started off on the wrong foot, but by the end they had mutual trust and she had seen things from him that she hadn't expected. But still, their relationship wasn't stable, and Jim's certain she still thinks he's an asshole. Especially after the whole Spock's mother fiasco.

"I'll head over later. You're dismissed Lieutenant." He uses the best captainy voice he can muster, and apparently that does the job, because Uhura turns away slightly disgusted.

Jim brings a sigh, the room quiet and the cries of Vulcan's destruction ringing in his ears.

A sob that was meant to be held in escapes and he instantly puts his face in his hands, to muffle anything that comes past his mouth.

His strangled noises echo in the empty room.

"You cocky bastard…"

Uhura comes beside him.

A hand on his shoulder makes him flinch, flinch really hard.

"I'm sorry-I'm so sorry." Jim rambles, not sure to who but he says it, just to quiet the voices in his head.

The hand tries to touch him again and this time he allows it.

He's brought over onto Uhura's shoulder, to weep silently as the tears run down his face. Her hand strokes his heated neck and her other hand rubs his back.

Jim tries to calm himself down, but he only cries harder as the voices emerge, whispering into his ears.

"It's alright Jim." Uhura murmurs softly, scratching at the short hairs at his hairline.

"I messed up-I messed up so much."

There's a ragged sigh, and then he's brought upright, to face Uhura's rich brown eyes, her hair falling into her face elegantly.

"We all messed up, but it doesn't matter anymore, what does matter is what we do afterwards to make up for it." She informs him, squeezing his shoulders playfully.

He sniffs, "Thanks Uhura."

Jim gulps a shaky breath, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, his chest finally slowing down.

"Nyota." She grins.

Jim smiles, "Nyota."

"Do you want me to walk you to Sickbay or…?" She trails off for him to fill in the blank.

He shakes his head, "I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone I'm here. I just need to have some time to think."

Nyota nods, her eyes sad, "Alright, I can do that."

She ruffles his hair before getting up, leaving him in peace and quiet.

He watches her leave, bringing his knees closer to his chest so he can hold them there.

With a quivering breath, he lets his body settle against the wall, eyes finding the glinting stars once more. Some of the tension has melted from his body, but his mental barriers seem to have fallen away.

Spock Prime's mind-meld flashes through his head. He keeps thinking about the other him, the better him. The him that had a father, had a son, lived happily with his crew. The him that had a friendship with Spock.

Spock, damn it. The vulcan is now part of an endangered species, thanks to him.

The guilt and pain from Vulcan's destruction fill his chest again. This can't be right, why does he feel this? Why can he hear their screams? Why does he feel the ground crumbling away, giving out from beneath his feet? Why can he see his people-no the Vulcan people being crushed and sucked away? Why does this feel so real?

These memories aren't his, they aren't his thoughts and feelings.

Yet, they keep shouting, drumming up against his skull.

The sadness from the vulcans is a steady thrum, emitting like sound waves.

His heart pangs, he feels like a black hole.

Anxiety is rising, his chest is moving faster, his hands are shaking again.

It's his fault they're dead. That was all on him. He should have saved them-he should have saved more of them. He should've stopped the drill faster. He could have done better. Vulcan shouldn't have been destroyed. All of those souls, screaming alike, burning into his mind and filling his body with something that can only be explained as agony. It's agony for the dead.

He's wheezing now, tears brimming in his eyes once more.

Clenching his jaw, Jim gets up, knees wobbling so much they're smacking into each other. He bites his tongue and forces himself to walk.

He feels like he's walking on clouds, each step taking him closer to the panel.

Jim presses the button, "L-location of Chief Medical Officer, Leonard McCoy."

"CMO quarters." The machine spits out the automatic response.

With a sigh he trudges along, wanting to cover his ears to stop the vulcans from shouting in them. His ribs feel like they're collapsing in, his eyes blinking in slow motion as people pass him and wires flicker and spark above.

Once at Bones' door, he waves his hand over the scanner, feeling his body begin to fall over from exhaustion.

The second the door's open, he takes a step forward into darkness, falling onto his hands and knees as the strength is sucked away from him, "B-Bones…?"

The door shuts.

He closes his eyes, hoping that Bones really is here.

The reply comes soon enough, "Jim? Jim talk to me kid."

He can't though, he can't talk, he can't breathe. He's trembling and he's not sure how much longer he can take before he passes out.

Bones' hands grab him, hauling him upright to sit. Jim feels the bruising along his body swell up at the rough touches, and he wants to wince, but he can't even do that. Everything just hurts, and he doesn't know what to do.

He's scared.

"Bones." He breathes, grasping onto his shirt in the blackness of the room, feeling his lungs shrivel.

It's all his damn fault. Millions of vulcans dead because of him. How can he tell Bones this? He can't breathe, he's not breathing.

Bones grabs his hand, placing it on his chest, and with his other hand he grabs Jim's neck, pushing their foreheads together.

Jim just shuts his eyes, waiting to hear Bones strong sturdy voice in his ears.

"Jim, it's okay, breathe with me okay?"

He nods, feeling the world spin as oxygen escapes him.

"Okay, in."

He tries, he really does, but his lungs seem to shrink, and he coughs and chokes on the air instead, panicking further as he feels like he's about to die because he can't just breathe like a normal person.

"Hey, hey, breathe in." Bones' voice soothes, so Jim tries again, this time managing a quick breath that's more of a wheeze, but better than nothing.

Bones keeps telling him to breathe, so he keeps listening, letting his body finally calm down so he can sag into the southerner, completely drained.

"That's it kid, you're alright." Bones drawls softly.

But he's not. He's not alright. He messed up.

The sob he didn't know he was holding comes out, and once it's out he can't stop. Tears streak his face, and all he wants to do is fix everything. He just wants to be okay, he just wants everything to go back to normal.

Bones brings him closer, his strong arms wrapping around Jim's trembling body, "Shh, it's okay." The southerner pushes his head down and Jim accepts it, burying his face into Bones, sobbing.

Jim tries to stop crying, but he keeps choking on his own sobs as his body keeps expelling them from his lungs. All Bones does is squeeze him, rocking him back and forth and humming softly into the dark.

He lets this calm him, controlling his breathing as it evens out.

"Jim, please, what's wrong kid?" Bones asks quietly, his hands rubbing his back.

Jim swallows, braving himself to say it, "It's my fault they're dead." His voice feels dry and robotic, but nonetheless he said it, he got it off his chest.

"There's nothing more you could've done." The southerner says, the words sound dry and lacking their usual compassion. Maybe Bones is broken too, Jim can't blame him for that.

He doesn't reply, letting himself shiver and cry the rest of the stress out, glad for Bones' arms around him.

After a few minutes Bones helps him up. Jim feels all his muscles and bones willing him to stop, but the doctor brings him to the bed and helps him out of his uniform, leaving him shivering in his boxers.

Surprisingly Bones doesn't glance him over, doesn't bother bringing his tricorder out. Instead Bones tugs the blankets around the both of them and lets Jim press up against his chest.

Jim bites his lip. He doesn't deserve this kind of care. He should still be out in that viewing room, shaking and crying himself to sleep there on the ground, not in Bones' bed, warm and snug against him.

He cries again, he wants to stop but he just can't. He's emotionally depleted and the voices are still pleading to be saved.

Bones doesn't judge him, he just pulls Jim closer.

Jim closes his eyes, but everything just hurts.