Casualties were to be expected on a starship. Explosions in Engineering, dangerous aliens, new diseases, there was a reason Starfleet wasn't for the light of heart. With those casualties came a steady demand for new crewmen. Visiting Starbases was the usual method of repairing the ship and filling up the crew manifest. The result was a lot of paperwork, all to be approved by the captain. Jim Kirk still felt it when he lost crew, but it wasn't as devastating anymore. It just happened and it wasn't anybody's fault. They all knew the risks when they signed up.

It was a Tuesday, midway through Alpha shift. He was on the bridge, in the captain's chair scrolling through a data pad. He'd already approved the new crewmen to come aboard but he hadn't looked at their names. It wasn't his job to pick who exactly got to serve on the flagship, just to double check things after the fact. He got to pick the more important positions, sure, but sifting through resumes for new ensigns wasn't an efficient use of his time.

He wasn't really all that interested in the names, but his job didn't involve anything other than sitting still and looking pretty until they undocked from Starbase 6. They couldn't undock until everyone was finished shuttling on board. He could go down to meet them, but he wasn't feeling it. So, looking at names. Maybe he'd surprise one of the newbies by addressing them on first name basis, make them shit their pants a little. Putting some ensign on the spot was an amusing thought, but he'd never actually do it.

Scroll down, scroll down, wait. He froze. Kevin Riley. He didn't even see the rank or anything else on page. Kevin fucking Riley. Kevin, Kiev if he was feeling playful in a friendly deliberately mispronounce your name cause I've said it normally too many damn times kind of way.

The last time he'd seen Kevin was when they were kids, him 14 And the other 12. Back when they were starving and dying together on Tarsus IV. Talking themselves hoarse at night to distract themselves from the lifeless silence. Sleeping together curled tight when neither of them had the calories to stay warm. Running, lots of running. Working together to steal food, stay hidden, stay alive. There'd been other kids, sometimes, but they fucked up and died fast. Kevin stuck with him, right to the end.

Or at least he'd thought he had. Last memory he'd had of Kevin was awful. Lucky Kiev's luck ran out. They got caught. Jim's aptitude scores meant he got to live. Kevin's scores meant he had to die. He'd watched one of the damn triggermen take out his phaser while another dragged him around a corner and stunned him. He'd seen it over and over in his head. He still had Kevin's screams crystal clear in his mind. Fuck, he still had his face, eyes too big and cheeks caved in. He had his bony hands, the scar on his thumb from poking a sleeping dog, the way the bones in his ankles and wrists stuck out unnaturally. There was a hole in his heart with Kevin's name all over it.

Jim remembered how it happened vividly…

They crouched low and quiet behind a dumpster. Not a lot of people had personal recyclers, so they put their trash in the dumpster for a truck to pick up and recycle instead. The dumpster was empty now. Too many people had searched through it for anything resembling food. The city was mostly abandoned. JT didn't know why he'd thought it'd be a good idea to come there. At least no one would be on the look out for them.

Or so he thought, but footsteps were loud on pavement, and two sets were approaching them now. They rang obscenely loud in the unnatural quiet. Kiev looked at him, down the alley behind them, and back at him. The question was obvious, run or hide? JT pointed at his ear. They needed to wait and listen first. If the two walkers were survivors, they could be followed and stolen from. They could lead them to something to eat. But, the walkers could also be triggermen, Kodos' private inforcers charged with separating the the live from the soon to be dead.

So they waited, ears straining. Kiev's eyes went wide a heartbeat before JT heard it, a slight buzzing, like a bug zapper or a shuttle engine, so quiet most people said it didn't exist. Distinct and instantly recognizable to him, JT knew what an activated phaser sounded like. Kiev had better ears. He could tell if a phaser pressed to his skull was set to kill or not.

They tried to sneak away, they really did, but it was useless. Two fast sneaky steps away from the street and JT's legs gave out for no reason. His muscles were weak and twitchy from straving and sometimes he fell down with no warning. JT's kneecaps hit the pavement with a crack. Pain shot up his whole skeletal frame and a ragged gasp tore out of him.

"Hey!" Somebody yelled. The two strangers were after them, he could hear the footsteps. Kiev yanked him to his feet and dragged him away. They tried to run fast, but it was so hard. JT almost didn't remember a time when he could run and run and run without ever getting tired. He hazarded a glance behind him. The men were chasing them. They had square-jawed, farmer faces, and blue eyes. Kodos loved blue eyes. They were like all triggermen: tall, tenacious, loyal, and exactly what Kodos wanted. Kirk could recognize a triggerman even out of their bland tan uniforms. They had a feel to them, like the faint smell of blood and bleach.

There weren't any broken windows to scramble through, no dense thorny brush to crawl under, and no one was going to save them. All the tricks that had saved them before were useless. They couldn't run faster or longer than the older, well fed bastards behind them. It was inevitable when they were caught.

Large, vice-like hands caught JT's bone thin arm and drug him back. Kiev held on to his other arm with all the strength he had left and tried to pull him back. It wasn't much. There was a lot of screaming happening. JT distantly realized he was swearing up a storm, but so loudly and unarticulated that the words sounded like animal screams. Kiev made the same noises that might have been words. It was louder than any sound they had made in months. JT thrashed as he swore, kicking and punching kitten-weak blows.

The bastard he was fighting picked both boys up and slammed them on to the ground, one square palm pressed on each of their hearts, pushing down. JT's head reeled, black spots erupted in his vision. He could barely breath. Kiev gasped wetly next to him. An understanding passed between them. The fight drained out of JT. He was tired. They were both tired. There wasn't any fighting anymore and Kirk suddenly felt very calm. JT put the last of his futile strength into holding Kevin's hand as hard as he could. Kiev squeezed back.

The triggerman let them cling while his partner got out the iris scanner that would identity the boys. They were both so quiet. The murdering devils were always so quiet. JT stared straight ahead while they held his face up to the scanner. He was going to look death right in the eye. He was going to die looking forward and unafraid, just like his father.

The scanner beeped and the uniformed killer moved to scan Kevin now. JT had promised Kiev they'd die together, at the very same time so their ghosts could stand up together and keep running forever. Now it was going to happen. Hungry and cold on his back in an alley, James Tiberius Kirk was going to die, and he was taking Kevin Riley with him. Kiev didn't even know his real name, but it didn't matter anymore. He sobbed wetly as Kevin laid shaking and crying at his side.

But then Jim's attacker picked him up again and started carrying him away. This wasn't right. They were supposed to die together. JT fought again, more disorganized than ever. He bit and scratched to get back. The animal screams started up again. Kiev fought to get back to him too as the other triggerman held him down. They both knew what was going to happen now.

Kevin's screams started sounding like words again. JT heard his name, heard "I love you," and a dozen other indecipherable words. He screamed back, told Kevin he'd wait for him, that he loved him too. He was taken around a corner. A phaser was pressed to his head while he heard Kevin begging to let them die together. The phaser flashed. If he'd had Kevin's ears, he might've of known it was set to stun.

…Getting caught saved his life and killed the dearest friend he'd ever had. Kodos, the clear-eyed bastard, gave him food personally. Him and a couple other pretty, blue-eyed children Kodos kept around to make himself feel good about all the people he was saving. He remembered that too, but not as clearly as Kevin's last moments.

They had sat at a big wooden table for every meal. The food was a holy miracle. It was precious and beautiful, the most glorious proof of the presence of God and his Angels of Mercy. Jim never touched it. Not once. Not when his stomach cramped at the sight of it, or his mouth made gallons of saliva. He just looked at it and did nothing. Kodos asked him why every time. He didn't answer. Kodos had him force fed through a tube. Rinse and repeat.

He'd answered once, two days before the end, three before Starfleet came, when the rebellion was almost at their throats. That was word for word clear in his memory, like Kodos' decimation speech.

He'd said, "I am alive because my friend is dead. We were supposed to die together. I will never eat again because you FUCKING KILLED HIM!" Kodos slapped him and walked out. That was the last time anyone ever saw him alive.

Jim had never divulged the full details of his experiences on Tarsus. He had received trauma counseling when Starfleet finially came for them. But, through his own skills and the inadequacies of his conselor, had managed to avoid talking about most of his experiences. He hadn't ever spoken about Kevin Riley. Once the report on him had been completed, he was allowed to go home and the universe seemed to forget that the James Kirk on Tarsus was the same James Kirk captaining the Enterprise.

He'd only come close to revealing that secret once, and never again after that. During his first year at Starfleet, before Bones and him had gone from acquaintances to best friends, he'd been required to study and discuss Tarsus for a basic ethics class. They'd been sorted into small groups and instructed to explore their moral views, and what should have been done concerning the unfortunate situation on Tarsus. He'd done the assignment, barely, but mostly kept his head down during the whole thing.

An attractive girl in his group kept questioning him about his views as the class ended despite his efforts. They'd walked out on the quad together, still discussing while Jim assumed this was just another smart girl trying to get laid by appealing to his intellectual side. Again, another conversation he remembered word for word.

"Look, it's not the idea of forced decimation for the sake of the greater good that's the problem. It's how he implemented it. Governor Kodos was an idiot and a coward."

"Isn't that a little harsh? I know the man is considered by some to be a small-scale Hilter, but the argument can be made that he was honestly trying to save as many people as he could." The girl's cadet red skirt made subtle swishy noises as she walked, and her big brown eyes were very softly ernest.

"No, it's not. He announced to everyone that he was going to kill a bunch of them, and then waited a few days to actually try it. He sent out operatives to do the dirty work and had people hunted down while he sucked up as much supplies as he could in the confusion." Jim kept his own tulmultous emotions on the matter carefully hidden. He could do this. He could talk about it all day without revealing a thing. He'd done it before, even if Kodos' voice was echoing inside his head along with Kevin screaming his name, and the buzz of phasers. And, the deadened silence as every living thing was consumed or forced into hiding.

"He set himself up for failure" He continued, "and caused a colossal amount of collateral damage along the way. His job was to support the infastructure, but instead he set it on fire and fueled the madness until enough people were killing each other that he didn't have too. He estimated 5,000 people could of survived, and what was the total tally? 2,753. I'm putting the 2,247 people needlessly dead by his own standards at his feet, and you're not gonna convince me otherwise." He turned to look at the girl again only to find her standing shock still several feet behind him. A sudden dread filled his stomach.

"What?" Jim asked mildly.

"It's, well, you know Betazeds like me are empathic right?" Jim thought the ground might've dropped out from under him. Nobody was supposed to know how deeply he felt about Tarsus. It wasn't difficult to figure out that intense emotion came from personal experience. No one could know.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I get a little into it sometimes. Tarsus is like my pet project." He said as casually as he could.

The girl caught up to him and smiled sweetly. "I'm always amazed at how sympathetic Terrans can be. When you care about something, you really care. And you can feel so deeply sometimes for things you've never seen or touched."

Jim didn't remember how the conversation had gone after that, or what eventually happened to the girl. He never learned her name and after the class ended thankfully he never saw her again.

"Captain?" Spock interrupted. Jim almost jumped out of his chair.

"What?"

"You have been staring intently at nothing and breathing erratically for the past 124 seconds. I wish to understand why." which was Spockese for what the hell, man?

"I just, uh" Kevin Riley "I just realized something. Are the new crewmen on board yet?"

"They will be momentarily, Captain. Is it your intention to see them aboad?"

"What? Yeah. Yeah it is, will you take the conn Mr. Spock?" He was rattled, seriously rattled. It probably wasn't even the same Kevin. Riley wasn't that unusual of a name. He had to see him, just to make sure it wasn't him.

"Of course, Captain." Jim barely heard it. He was already half way towards the turbo lift, pad forgotten on his chair.

The trip to the shuttle bay was a blur. Kevin Riley. The hope burned painfully in his chest. There was a knife in his gut. It wasn't possible. He barely kept from running. The shuttle bay doors swished open and he was through them. Noise, people, equipment. The quartermaster was giving the new crewmen an orientation speech that stuttered and faltered at his sudden appearance. The new crew saluted, except for one.

Wide brown-green eyes that's he'd never ever forget stared at him and watered. Jim felt like he'd just been shot with old fashioned projectile weapontry.

"JT?" His voice was older, but unmistakable. So was the dogbite scar on his thumb.

"God, you're fat." It fell out of Jim's mouth before he could think to stop it.

Then they were hugging, so tight it hurt because they couldn't get close enough. Kevin kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips and Jim kissed back on every bit he could reach because it still wasn't enough. There were hot tears on both their faces.

"He took you. I heard his phaser, I heard it. He killed you."

"I thought you were dead. I didn't eat without you I swear, the bastard made me." They were talking at the same time but it didn't matter. It was the same hushed tones as when they were kids and he could barely hear it over everything else, but it didn't matter.

"Oh God, JT, I'm so sorry. He was a rebel. He kept me alive without you. I ate without you. I'm so fucking sorry."

"You're alive. I don't care. I missed you so much." He said it to Kevin's neck because he couldn't bear to pull back enough to say it to his face.

"Captain?" Spock's voice crashed into their private little world and Jim suddenly remembered their audience. He pulled back slowly, just enough to look at Spock. He wasn't ready to let go yet. Spock held his forgotten data pad.

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" His voice wavered. Kevin wiped the tears off his face for him with the flat of his palms.

"Are you well?" Of course such a massive emotional display would make Spock think Jim was sick or something.

"Better than ever. This is Kevin Riley. He's… He's an old friend. I thought he was dead until two minutes ago. Kiev, this is my First Officer, Commander Spock." Jim's smile was going to break his face and his cheeks were twinging already. They were still way to public though, and people were staring awkwardly. "Mr. Riley is temporarily relieved of duty. He'll report to you when he is to be reinstated." He nodded to the Quartermaster. He was abusing his privileges just a bit, but no one was going to call him on it as long as it was a one time thing. The rumor mill might fire up, but Kiev was alive and nothing else mattered right then. "Walk with me, Commander."

Kevin and Jim walked so close together, their shoulders and hips bumped. The turbo lift was mercifully empty. Jim hit the emergency stop when they'd barely started moving. "Spock, can you take the rest of this shift? I'm really really emotionally compromised."

"Of course, Captain. You deserve time with your old friend."

"Thanks, Spock. I don't know what I would do without you." Spock just nodded. Jim set the lift in motion again. Kiev and him got out to go to his quarters while Spock kept going towards the bridge. The Vulcan stared after them thoughtfully.

They talked for hours, ate a ridiculously ornate lunch, and slept it off curled together on his bed. Then they talked some more. Around dinner time he commed Spock's quarters while Kiev sprawled out on his bed some more.

"Spock here."

"Hey, it's Jim. Do you want to get dinner in my quarters?"

"I was under the impression that you were reuniting with your friend."

"Oh come on, Spock! J.T. always wants you around. He loves you just as much as me or anyone else alive." Kevin interrupted from across the room. There was silence over the comm. Kevin suddenly looked horrified.

"Kiev didn't offend you, did he? I'm sorry, Spock. You don't have to come." Jim amended.

"… Did your companion speak truthfully?" Spock asked quietly.

"What? Course he did. You're my friend, Spock, best fucking friend a guy could have. People coming back from the dead doesn't change that. Nothing changes that."

There was another pause. "I will be there in 2.24 minutes… You honor me. Spock out."

"Did he seriously not know?" Kevin asked.

Jim shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess not. It's my fault. I keep forgetting that he's Vulcan."

"Does that really make a difference?" Kevin pinched at the edge of his jaw. "I just can't get over how plump you are now. It's practically obscene."

"Stop that" Jim weakly smacked Kevin's hand away. "We've already had the 'you're so fat' conversation like five times now. And it does make a difference. Spock's crazy smart. So smart he knows what I'm thinking most of the time. It makes it easy for me to get complacent. He'll know everything I want him to, but when it comes to emotions and human regard he's as ignorant as they get. You know what I mean?" Jim asked.

"You mean cause he knows you most of the time you start he assuming he knows you all of the time? Only he doesn't cause his big sciencey brain that you're in love with is emotionally dumb as a brick?" Kiev grinned teasingly at him.

Jim scowled exaggeratedly, "Something like that, yeah."

"Go get him, Tiger."

"You shut your mouth, he's spoken for."

"And if he wasn't? You've been talking about him a lot today." Kevin raised his eyebrows, and made kissy noises.

"Show some respect, you shit. You talk like that to him and I'll kick your ass."

Kiev gave him a bemused expression and held up his hands. "Alright, geez, I am a Starfleet diplomat you know. I can treat your boyfriend like gold if I want to." Kiev and Jim shared a slow, secret smile as the door chimed.

Kevin Riley didn't stay on the Enterprise for long. A year and a half later he transferred to the USS Reliant for career reasons. Jim and him kept in regular contact between the mandatory radio silence during Neutral Zone patrols. They wrote letters, vid comms, and acted like no time had passed whenever they were lucky enough to meet up in person. The separation was surprisingly unpainful. They'd spent years and years apart, both loving a dead friend, but loving a live one was strangly difficult and unsatisfying. Their reunions were sweet, but their need for each other burned out quickly and took a long time to accumulate to desperate levels again. They both understood that, and didn't fight to change it.

Spock… Spock was a different story entirely. Jim needed him like he needed to breath, like he needed Bones, his ship, like fighting and fucking. For monthes he was at Spock's side as often as he could get away with. They served together, played chess, talked, and nearly died together a dozen times over. But, it still wasn't enough.

Circumstances forced their first mind meld not long after Kevin left.

The dirt was blue, subtlety, undeniably blue. Except where there was blood, that was red. Jim knew he was being stupid, but he didn't care. He felt floatly and vaguely gleeful even at the sight of his own blood shining wetly on the ground. His leg hurt though, that wasn't fun. His head felt funny too, and it was bleeding, a lot.

He'd fallen down a hill, how dumb was that? Fallen down a big hill with big dumb blue rocks. And now his leg hurt and his head was bleeding. Kirk giggled at the stupidity of it.

But, oh, wait, someone else was coming down the hill, coming really fast. He was blue too. Jim giggled again.

"Captain, Are you critically injured?" Spock didn't wait for reply and flipped open his communicator. Jim thought that was rather rude. "Spock to Enterprise, two to beam up. Emergency medical for one."

The communicator beeped and a tinny voice replied, "Acknowledged. Atmospheric conditions will cause delay. Do you required immediate medical advisement?"

"Negative. Spock out." Spock knelt at Jim's side and started touching his head. That felt kind of nice. "Captain, what is the extent of your injuries?"

"I dunno. I feel nice. How are you?" Jim's tongue felt kind of heavy. It made his words sound funny. Unarticulated.

"I am unharmed physically. Mentally, I am concerned for your welfare. Improbable, unpredictable injury seems to be a continual threat to your existence." Jim's brain started rearranging the words. Existential threat. Continued existence. Your continued existence is a threat.

It dawned on Kirk that he was dying, no, that he was dead. He was dead and dying. You tell secrets when you die, cause it doesn't matter anymore.

"Spock!" He said with sudden alarm. "Spock! I have to tell… you…" His tongue was getting heavier. He had to tell. You tell secrets when you die. Jim forced his mouth to work and ordered with as much authority as he could muster, "Meld."

Spock seemed to hesitate and Jim almost screamed in frustration. But, then long, inhumanly strong fingers found his face and Kirk heard Spock quietly intone "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts." And, Spock was in his head.

Jim bundled up his Tarsus memories like bloody laundry and shoved them at Spock as hard as he could. Someone could know now that he was dead. Someone had to know. He felt the Vulcan's reaction and simultaneous non-reaction. Like an ocean under ice. On the surface, Spock had no emotions, but under that he felt deep shock, anger, and regretful sadness.

Spock directed something back at Jim, tinged with shiny, golden trust and honored regard. Spock's voice rang like bell in Jim's head, "You shall never come to harm while it is in my power to prevent it."

Spock broke the meld with a loud exhale. Jim realized there were hot tears on his face and his first officer's eyes were shiny. Jim felt briefly puzzled at why an emotionless Vulcan would look on the edge of tears before he passed out.

He woke up hours later in a dimly lit Sickbay with Spock sitting near his biobed and an osteo-regenerator strapped to his calf. Jim felt stiff and groggy. He had to blink his eyes a few times before he could see clearly. Spock was staring into the middle distance, still as a statue.

"…Spock?" Jim felt like his throat was full of sand. His muscles trembled as he started to sit up.

"Please do not attempt to rise. You are unwell." Jim ignored him and sat up anyway. The black sickbay sleepwear felt itchier than normal.

"What time is it?" Kirk asked.

"0127." Spock answered. "You experienced a physiological reaction to contaminents in the injuries you sustained on the planet. Doctor McCoy assured me you would be fine if allowed to rest if 'a little hungover'"

"Oh." Jim scrubbed his face with the heel of his hand. "Did we meld? I remember us melding."

"Yes, Captain. We did. You conveyed to me a secret you intended to hold until death. I am now aware of all your experiences on the colony, Tarsus IV." Spock spoke evenly, his face unreadable.

"Well, shit." Jim bent his uninjured leg and hunched over it, hiding his face.

"Capt- Jim." Spock hesitantly placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "I will never willingly betray your confidence." Jim turned his head to peek out at Spock with one eye. Spock continued, "Your fears in this matter at groundless. No one will cease to love you-" Bones' office door snapped open and Spock took his hand back as though burned.

"Jesus Christ, Jim. Only you would find a way to get hurt on a goddamn geo survey." Bones looked like he'd just woken up, uniform wrinkled and hair mussed. Jim just looked at him, unable to hide the vurnerability in his expression. "…Jim? You alright?"

Bones was at his side immediately, cradling his face in surgeon hands, looking at his eyes, feeling his throat.

"I'm fine, Bones. Just hungover from alien dirt." He tried to smile at the weak joke. McCoy ignored him and started scanning him with a medical tricorder.

Jim looked back at Spock. His first officer was staring at him with heavy concerned eyes, his mouth and brow drawn tight. Jim heard phaser buzzing, hoarsely screamed 'I love you', decisively pronounced 'Your continued exsistance is a threat'. He felt the constant sickly fear of being hunted and the jagged hunger from starving.

Weighted dark eyes looked at him. And, Jim felt a sudden complusion rise in his throat coupled with a surge of terrified adrenaline.

"Bones, go get a chair. I gotta tell you something." His voice sounded rough and alien to himself as his heart pounded furiously and fear turned his blood to water. McCoy paused in his scan and looked at him oddly. "I said, go get a fucking chair. Now, Bones." The doctor frowned, but did as he was told. Jim didn't break eye contact with Spock the entire time.

When McCoy was seated he started talking. "When I was 14, my mom shipped me off to my uncle's house on-" His throat sealed up on its own accord. "… on-" His voice failed again. No one could know. But, someone did know. Spock knew. Blindly, he reached out for his first officer and his friend. Spock grasped his hand in both of his own. Comfort seemed to flow from the point of contact. Jim swallowed heavily and continued. "-on Tarsus IV."

Bones gasped, but Jim charged ahead. "I was there when the grain failed and Kodos decided half of us had to die…"

Four hours, five glasses of water, and two cups of Vulcan tea later and James Kirk had voiced the greatest secret of his life in its entirety. Relief coursed through him. Spock held his hand the whole time.

"…Oh, Jimmy." Bones breathed when he finially fell silent, face heavy with a compassion that never wavered in all the years they knew each other.

It came as no surprise to any of them when, four years after they met, Jim asked his first officer to marry him. Bones was his best man, but Kiev sat in the front row seat reserved for him during the service. Kevin was in and out of his life after that, like always. Spock's steadfast devotion to him was almost tangible and his love throbbed through the bond constantly. Bones was a loyal friend for the rest of his life, and never lived more than spitting distance away. Jim was happy and as his children grew up knowing Kevin Riley's name and face, like they knew all his other adventures, it was finally enough.