Red. Hazy, red mist that was the color of blood. Something he'd seen far too much in his lifetime, and something that he would subsequently be able to pinpoint anywhere. Coppery, metallic blood that filled the air and surrounded him. Screams. Death. His friends, his crew –family – dying around him. Destruction. Chaos. All wrapped up in the haze that surrounded him and enveloped him as if working to suffocate him – either by the scent or the sheer thickness of it all.

He screamed.

For help. For his family. For it all to end. For death. For revenge.

Revenge.

Anger. Rage. Fury boiled deep inside him and he couldn't keep it contained. All the pent up emotions he'd harbored for so long coming up to catch in his throat and he just purely hated. The desire for battle was intense. Heart racing tension coiling his muscles as he had the urge to rip something or someone apart with his bare hands. To crush anyone who had harmed his family, his friends, and leave them reduced to a bloody mess of unrecognizable limbs. He could taste it. Feel it so close and-

Jim gasped as he sat bolt upright in his bed. His breathing was ragged and labored as he stared wide-eyed into the darkness of his room. For several terrifying moments the red haze that had haunted him for the past few months lingered in his vision as he struggled to calm down and regain his bearings. Finally, the red faded and left him cold and empty. His body slick from the sheen of sweat that coated it after his nightmare. The same one. Over and over again for months now as they, he and his crew, waited for the Enterprise to be repaired for its five year voyage, and it was only getting worse.

At first the nightmares were infrequent and vague. Something he'd forget about come morning, but now? They were so much worse. Vivid. Increasingly so, and far more frequent as they now haunted him every time he attempted sleep. He didn't understand where it came from. The blind rage and hatred that built up inside of him to leave him feeling utterly foreign in his own body. That red haze that lingered a little more inside his waking hours each time he dreamed of it. It actually terrified Jim.

Naturally, the young Captain hadn't consulted his best friend and doctor about it. Bones would just worry and force him to go through testing that Jim honestly didn't want to sit through. There were things to be done to prepare for this voyage, and they had the time to actually do so in the window of the Enterprise's repairs and maintenance. He wanted to get what he could done and ready, pick his crew up again and convince them to go if need be, but more importantly he intended to pretend that nothing was wrong because that was so much easier than saying otherwise. It always had been for him. Push hard and work until he collapsed. It was how he'd gotten the people that mattered most in his life through to the end of some of the toughest fights and situations they'd been in yet. Nero, Admiral Marcus…Khan. Most people just called him reckless and unorthodox, but what no one seemed willing to admit was that he got results with what he did. His people were alive. Whether it was dumb luck or actual brilliance…Enough people speculated so that Jim didn't have to so far as that was concerned. Ask Bones, and the doctor would tell just about anyone that his Captain and friend just didn't have a single sense of self-preservation. He didn't really care what people thought so long as he kept his ship and his family that was his crew.

Which definitely meant that he couldn't submit himself for a psych eval when there were far too many people that would love to take those very things away from him…and Jim wasn't entirely certain he would pass the thing. With how he'd been as of late? There wasn't any way it would happen. He'd worked too hard for all of this, and he couldn't let his crew down. Damn sanity and whatever else was wrong with him to hell. He was fine.

With a sigh, Jim ran a hand down the side of his face slowly before letting himself fall back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling. He knew better than to try sleeping again. One attempt was good enough for him when it came to these nightmares, so he glanced at the clock and sighed again. Barely one in the morning. He might as well get a head start on prep for the meeting he was suppose to go to that day. Starfleet brass seemed intent on reminding him what he was suppose to do on this voyage, and of course there was the Enterprise to check up on…

After a long few moments of laying about, the Captain finally rolled out of bed for a shower. A very long, and very cold shower.

Dressed in official uniform, Jim and his Vulcan friend (how that worked out he sometimes still questioned) headed for Starfleet Headquarters. Spock had spent the majority of the trip there, and then half the walk up to the main building openly assessing Jim. At this point he was just waiting for the Vulcan to finally just say something.

"Captain…If I am not mistaken, then you are currently functioning on less sleep than is deemed necessary to properly be able to focus." Spock finally began in that weird hybrid way of speaking that was both detached and somehow concerned at the same time. "Are you ill? If so, I highly suggest that you speak to Dr. McCoy."

"I'm fine." Jim assured with a smile. "I had a bad night. It happens."

"While I trust your judgment, Captain…Jim…There has been reliable data from past experiences and instances that suggest you are not forthcoming when there is something wrong with yourself." The Vulcan replied. Jim sighed.

"I swear that I'm fine, alright? As soon as this meeting's over I'll get some sleep and I'll be perfectly fine." Except he wouldn't go sleep as it would make things worse. Just thinking about sleep was nearly enough to bring back the red haze he dreaded. He swore he could already smell the awful tang of copper. Of blood.

He must have let his expression twist up as Spock pressed on. "Logically, it is best if Dr. McCoy is at least notified. Shall I make arrangements?"

"Yeah. Do it if you want, but I'm fine." Jim sighed, coming to a stop before the doors of Starfleet. He turned back and gave Spock a long look. "I'll see you in an hour or two when the meeting gets out."

"Of course, Captain." Spock replied, and each turned in the opposite direction to continue. Jim wasn't looking forward to the meeting. He practically already knew how it was going to go. It wouldn't be any different that the some dozens of other ones he'd been called to attend every time the brass figured out something else to add onto the voyage to force him through more reiterations of what would be expected of Starfleet's flagship.

Jim was sent straight to the room the meeting was to be held in. The top brass of Starfleet present already and waiting for him. The young Captain stood before them and clasped his hands behind his back in the standard parade rest. He hated the formality, but it wasn't as if he had much of a choice. They weren't in the same location that Khan had bombed months prior, and due to the same incident the faces staring back at him were nearly all new. He was still learning names, unfortunately.

As per usual, the meeting began in the same way it had the times prior. He was informed that the Enterprise and her crew were being given the honor of going on a five year voyage into space, the final frontier, to explore and, on occasion, conduct diplomatic missions at the command of Starfleet. Things he already knew. The unspoken part of this was that it was a way to keep him out where he couldn't do any damage, as people seemed to have a bit of a belief that he caused trouble. How anyone could make that assumption…

The break in script finally came at what Jim instinctively knew would be the close of the meeting. Which, so far, he'd only served to nod and make affirmative comments rather than actually participate in. "It's become a decision that the Enterprise must have an on board resident for rehabilitation." Otherwise known as –

"You want me to have a criminal on my ship?" Jim asked, incredulous. He received a few mirthless smiles.

"It's a new program that Starfleet will be running. The rehabilitation of certain criminals may be beneficial in the long run, Captain. It is our belief that if it's to be tested for effectiveness that our flagship should be the first to start the program."

"If I'm going to be harboring a criminal on my ship, I'd better at least have the liberty to choose who it's going to be." Jim said, eyes narrowed. He didn't like this. It sounded like a recipe for disaster, really. It was practically asking to put his crew and anyone else that may be on board in danger depending on the criminal, and just like that the beginning of the red haze that haunted his sleep began to creep into his vision.

"Of course, Captain. We expect to have the name of your choice before you and your crew depart on your voyage…You're dismissed." Jim's jaw tightened, red surging, before he turned on his heel and left the room. He needed to calm down and just breathe. There was no reason to make a scene and let this…issue…rule over him. He sighed to himself. Calm. He needed to be calm.

Calm did not follow him.

Jim made it down to the ground floor when everything just went sideways. It seemed like everyone was just going insane anymore. Especially when he was anywhere involved as he had a span of about five seconds after walking out of the building to anticipate the knife that was shoved between his ribs. The Captain's eyes widened, shocked, as he felt the blade twist.

"Jim!" a familiar voice shouted. Spock. Right. He was suppose to meet him here. The man who had stabbed him turned, pulling Jim's phaser as he did so, and aimed it right at the Vulcan. The haze that had already been lingering kicked in full gear like an adrenaline rush that robbed him of feeling the pain of being stabbed. A very, very violent adrenaline rush.

Despite the knife lodged in between his ribs, Jim's fingers curled around the wrist of the hand holding the phaser in a frighteningly strong grip before twisting it violently. A startled cry of pain followed by a scream sounded as Jim snapped the arm. The audible, sickening crack of bone evident as the grip on the phaser was released. Jim kicked the man away and pulled the blade out of his chest even as he advanced. A sharp kick to the would-be killer's base, and the kid was flat on his back and shrieking as he landed on his broken arm. Jim made to stomp on his chest, seeing nothing but rage and hate as he was clearly intent on ending the other before he felt arms pulling him back quickly.

"Jim! You must stop this." Spock urged, but Jim was having none of it and he threw his First Officer off of him. Were he not blinded by the red haze of rage he'd have realized that he shouldn't have been able to do so. Spock was far stronger than Jim himself was, or at least the Vulcan had been stronger than Jim at one point while now they seemed to at least match strength if the Captain hadn't exceeded it all together. With Spock tossed away, he went back to trying to finish off his attacker only to find arms wrapping around him again. This time their grip was firmer.

"Forgive me Captain, but this is necessity to insure no further damage is done." With that he felt fingers catching him on the shoulder and pinching before Jim was out cold.

"What in the actual hell were you thinking?" Bones demanded almost as soon as Jim woke. Given that he was only just opening his eyes the Captain blinked at his friend as he was far too disoriented to understand what had come out of the other man's mouth.

"I do not believe that is the proper bedside manner for a waking patient, Doctor. However given circumstances I understand your desire for answers." The far cooler and collected voice of Spock was easier to listen to and Jim blinked further to clear his fuzzy vision before realizing he was in a medical ward. Bones was standing with a tricorder even as he was looking at the charts he was calling up above Jim's bed. The Vulcan was on the Captain's left and out of the way of Bones with his checks on Jim's condition.

"I don't need your opinions right now, Spock." The Doctor muttered, and Jim chuckled under his breath only to find Bones to be focusing in on him again. "And you…Why didn't you come to me sooner about this?"

"It is possible that the Captain does not remember his actions," Spock pointed out.

"My what? What happened?"

"Hypothesis confirmed."

"You went berserk, Jim. You snapped a kid's forearm and literally crushed his wrist." At the Doctor's words, Jim stared at his friend in shock. It took a few moments, but eventually he remembered being stabbed outside of Starfleet HQ and how he'd snapped. Now that he was calm he could look back on that time of focusing on nothing but trying to kill the idiot that had attacked him then tried to attack Spock. All he'd seen was red and all he'd felt was hatred and anger and rage that now made him feel utterly uncomfortable. It was just like the nightmares he'd been experiencing and it was the feelings he'd been struggling with, but he'd had no clue that it could take such a violent turn. His brow furrowed.

"I crushed his wrist?" he asked, confused. He remembered grabbing the other's wrist, but so far as crushing it. On a physical standpoint that sort of strength shouldn't have been physically possible in a human. He could see where twisting the right way and moving with the right amount of force could end in snapping a forearm, but crushing a wrist by grabbing it?

"Yeah, which is why I'm worried about you. When you were brought in your vitals and stats were fluctuating like crazy. I tried to give you anything I could to get you stable, thinking it was the knife wound but your body burned right through everything I tried giving you. By the time I just started working on the wound it was already healed, and according to Spock here you threw him around too."

"In short, Jim, you were experiencing a state of increased strength and metabolic process as well as regeneration of injury. All of this seems to coincide with blind rage and anger." Spock summarized, and Jim nodded slowly.

"So why didn't you tell us what was wrong sooner, and don't try to tell me you didn't know dammit. Spock had already told me he thought you were sick then all this happens."

"Well it wasn't bad at first," Jim countered, wincing slightly as he made to sit up only to find that the motion had him incredibly dizzy to the point he honestly thought the black corners of his vision were going to consume it. He shuddered and felt a hand on his shoulder steadying him. When he was focusing again he found the steady hand to belong to Spock as Bones simultaneously checked him over.

"How long has this been going on?" Bones asked as he worked.

"Five months. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle at first, but it's getting worse." Jim stated.

"I never would have guessed." Bones said dryly as he straightened. "I don't know what's going on, but whatever is happening to you…I don't think your body can take it. The fluctuation in strength and everything else is taking your body for a ride that it shouldn't be on, and now your vitals are dropping to make you weaker."

"If I may…the time frame given to us puts the start of this at when the Captain was revived." Spock pointed out, looking from Jim to the doctor. "When the method of revival was the blood of an augmented human." Bones paled at that, and it wasn't hard to imagine why. In an offhanded manner Spock had practically just said that the reason Jim was going through this at all could be because of what the Doctor had done.

"I checked over my work more times that you can count," Bones replied, eyes narrowing. "I knew the risk and I made sure that there was as little chance possible for anything to happen."

"Yet we do not know the exact properties of Khan's blood, nor do we understand what it can be capable of except for the passing of healing abilities as was the case with the child he healed."

"And if you look at that girl she's perfectly fine and not suffering any of these side effects!"

"But it was Khan who synthesized the cure out of his own blood for her, not a Doctor that had a vague idea as to the consequences."

"Shut up, both of you. It doesn't matter why this is going on. Bones, is there anything you know about my body and how it'll handle this?" Jim interrupted, tired of hearing the arguments.

Bones sighed. "I don't know, Jim. If it goes on for too much longer you might drop to far into a weakened state to be able to claw your way back out again. I don't have a clue what's happening."

"I will work to the best of my ability to discover a way to help you, Jim." Spock said, and Bones nodded his agreement. Jim, on the other hand, was thinking over Spock's words. If it was the blood he'd been given –synthesized or not—then there was one expert he could consult to figure out what was happening to him. Luckily enough, Jim even knew exactly where to find him.

Hello! I am excited to try this out, the idea has been in my mind for awhile and I wanted to write it. I know this will probably put a few people off, but I do intend this to be a Khirk story but I'm never sure how the fic decides to write itself. For anyone that has read my fics before, I know I said I'd do a Mystrade one next but...I'm putting that off for when I have more motivation.

So I hope anyone who read this enjoyed the first chapter, and I hope to get the next out when I can. Please leave of review if you can to give me your thoughts/feedback! Thanks so much.

Have a good day!

Reaperess ^-^