Therapy Session's a Two-Drink Minimum (for boldygoing )

[smartass_captain]

You'd think this would be easier.

Find a place that's safe and quiet. Out of the way where neither of them has to be 'On' and neither of them has to worry about being bothered. Dig out a chess set, get a couple of drinks (make sure a certain Jim doesn't get too many drinks), and there you go. There's just one small problem with this idea.

There isn't a safe place anymore.

Jim's barely been able to hold still in the Nexus and he's already so high energy that some of the denizens don't think he's capable of sitting down. He doubts his counterpart is having an easier time of it. Jim's forgotten which of them came up with the idea. Inclined to think it was himself, but then he's pretty sure the younger one would say the same so who even knows.

They'll hash out the details as they go. Jim locks his quarters with his override code before shooting a set of PINpoint coordinates to his counterpart.

Chess set's set up. We doing this?

Comments

2/2

[boldygoing]

They don't meet again until five days later. With no captain's cabin to lock them away from prying eyes, and no desire whatsoever for curious passersby to see two Captain Kirks anywhere in public, Jim sets up the game at his new apartment. It's a relatively small place, cozy for two people if perhaps a little lonely for one, and it's fairly obvious from the newness of the furnishings that he hasn't lived here for very long. Nor has he gotten around to decorating the walls much; there are a few paintings here and there, but not a lot else. One corner is home to a motorcycle several years older than the one he'd owned and given away when he enlisted, one of the few things in this place that really says 'Jim Kirk lives here.'

The chessboard is set up on a low table in the living room, a couch on one side and a loveseat on the other. An orange cat naps on one end of the couch, nearby but not in the way of whoever sits there first. A pot of real coffee - not the replicated stuff - sits on the table with two pristine mugs, never before used, accompanied by a bottle of brandy and a pair of glasses. Just in case.

Jim makes sure that the door is locked before receiving today's guest, the windows opaqued to the outside so no one can accidentally get a look inside the flat, the unrestricted view inside showing downtown San Francisco from about four floors up. Sure, it's not as ritzy and flashy as the penthouse he'd enjoyed 'til almost a year ago, but he's not at all embarrassed by the basic living space. He's lived in worse.

Forgive my non sober tagging i'm getting into character

[smartass_captain]

My place, it said. Followed by a list of coordinates.

Jim's not exactly sure what to expect. The family house in Iowa? The idea settles into the pit of his stomach but he had given his younger counterpart the option of choosing the place for their next get together. So he's a little bit surprised to find himself in the entryway of a well lit flat overlooking San Francisco that is so otherwise alien to him that he's certain before he's even seen the furnishings or lack there of that he's never been here before.

In this specific place.

It's jarring in some respects to be in what amounts to the past for himself but not in a place he remembers ever being. His time paradoxes headache is sure to start soon if he lets it, so Jim takes a step further inside instead. There's a cat on the sofa. Actually, it's a pretty familiar looking cat.

"Since when do you own a cat?" It's not clever but it's the first thing that comes to Jim's mind. It's a dead ringer for the cat Hermione has hanging around her.

method acting ftw

[boldygoing]

"I don't," Jim answers with a faint, wry smile, the same sort of one he uses when he's deflecting from something he doesn't want to talk about. But it's only a reflex, born from years of being honest with no one but himself. Something that he has no need for here.

"Crookshanks belongs to a friend of mine. He kind of... invited himself over to stay for a bit. Too smart for his own good." He can't quite resist rubbing the feline's head as he approaches the table to pour himself some coffee, provoking a purr as the cat lazily rolls into the touch. "It's been nice to have somebody around," he adds, a little quieter. "No strings attached." He's never exactly considered himself a cat person, but there's been something soothing about having the kneazle around. Somebody who doesn't judge or ask awkward, prying questions, just sits and keeps him company, even at odd hours of the night. It's been better than being completely alone.

He's not nearly as bad off as he was when the cat first decided to watch over him, not anymore. Old habits and routines have settled back into his life, bit by bit. He probably doesn't need Crookshanks now, and the cat will need to go home eventually. But Jim's not in a hurry to kick him out either.

He doesn't sit down just yet, letting the elder captain choose his seat first. It's not like he's had this furniture - or this apartment - long enough to have a favorite spot yet.

[smartass_captain]

"Wait, Crookshanks?! Like, Hermione's magical cat???" Bwuuuuh. Jim's gaping a bit at the cat curled up on the couch. How? When? Why is that cat in San Francisco in the past in a world with no magic?? Considering everything that they've both gone through, Jim should be forgiven that he's forgotten Hermione telling him that she was staying with Hunter. The bald guy this younger Jim is totally Jim's calling it now in love with even if he says he's not.

For the moment, Jim doesn't remember any of that. He moves around to the couch and takes a hesitant seat. Slowly offers out his hand to see if the cat recognizes him.

How is this magical cat here Jim is so confused and also completely unable to let go of this thought.

His younger companion looks a lot better off than Jim does this time. Having a therapy animal around to make sure you eat, sleep, and take care of yourself in general is way way better than taking a day off citing being too hungover for your shift. Getting yelled at and then subsequently muscled into bed by Bones because the hell this is just a hangover. And then trying to shut out the world while going back to work as though nothing is wrong even though every meal and attempt at sleep ends in retching or waking up screaming.

He doesn't look like he's slept a wink since the last time they played.

"Nice place you've got here. I don't remember it. Pretty sure I had a place closer to th'Academy after...After."

[boldygoing]

"Yeah, that's him." Oh good, they've met before. That makes things a hell of a lot easier to explain, at least, that's what he assumes until he sees that baffled look on the other's face. Crookshanks doesn't seem to be having any problems though, butting his head against the offered hand in a request to be petted, and flops down along the older captain's thigh, purring all the while.

"She, um." No shame in admitting he's needed help, not here, not when the other mentioned getting tranquilizers from McCoy just to be able to sleep. "She's been giving me this sleeping potion stuff," Jim confesses, taking a seat across the table, pouring coffee for the other man since at least one of his hands is now occupied with a cat. He looks like he needs it.

Or, well. He actually looks like he could do with sleeping for a week. But that isn't happening, so coffee will have to do.

"It's... it doesn't stop anything," he adds, waving vaguely around his head, knowing he doesn't have to explain. "Just... makes it so I can sleep." It's slowly made a difference. That and having Crookshanks around. He's still haunted, still prone to startling at unexpected noises, still a slave to old compulsions that had once eased with age. But the circles under his eyes aren't quite so dark anymore, his hands steadier as he slides the mug across the table within arm's reach of his companion. "Crookshanks decided to hitch a ride with the delivery guy."

At the last comment, he glances around the apartment like he needs to remind himself what it even looks like. It's not really a surprise that this isn't something they share. The timing, the reason... "I was in Riverside for a bit. Didn't want to take a spot someone else could've had. But after... Halloween..." He shakes his head. "This was the first place I found." He doesn't bother to force a smile. There's no one here that he needs to pretend he's okay in front of. He knows he isn't, the other captain knows he isn't. Hell, even the cat knows. "The view's better than it was a few months ago anyway."

Having to look out his window and see the Vengeance embedded in downtown San Francisco would not exactly have been beneficial to his recovery, to say the least.

[smartass_captain]

"That's one way to deal with it. Does Bones know you're also relying on 'voodoo' to deal with your shit?" Jim snorts slightly and shakes his head, though the thinly held in stress on Jim's face eases slightly when Crookshanks butts his hand and flops over so he's laying on Jim's leg, purring contentedly. A ghost of a smile flickers across his face, even. It's such a small fragile thing.

If the cat feels safe here then Jim shouldn't be worried. This place is strange but it's the younger captain's home and Jim knows he'll make sure it's secure. The tension in his posture eases a little bit. He scratches at the cat's ears for a moment or two before spying the coffee his bearded companion is sliding over to him.

"Bless your glorious beard." Safer than the comment he was going to make. Less weird too. He glances out the window as he's taking a sip and nods slightly.

"Bones wouldn't let me go more than a block away from the hospital even after I was released. And to be frank, I didn't much want to do much of anything except get better. I got hella heavy curtains though."

[boldygoing]

"Oh yeah, he knows this time." 'This time,' he says, as if there was a prior incident. But never mind about that. Jim lifts his own coffee mug to his lips and blows on it to cool it a little. "He insisted on scanning the shit out of it first, and then sat there and watched me in case it turned out I was allergic or something."

Watching the other captain interact with Crookshanks, Jim is even more grateful that the cat has stuck around this long. It's not like he'll have the chance to make the sort of progress that he's made, over these past couple of weeks, but every little bit helps. He can only imagine how taxing this has gotta be, dealing with all this shit and trying to command a starship like nothing's wrong.

The exclamation gets a small smile to tug at his lips for a moment. Definitely worth it to supply a hot pot of the real stuff, if only for that. But then the conversation moves on, and he frowns ever so slightly. Doesn't match up to his own experience, but... they already know some of the details differ. Before the Nexus, after the Nexus, when doesn't matter. "I didn't have anywhere else to go for a while. Had the place to myself until Columbia got back into town." But the less said about that, the better. He has no idea if his counterpart has the same strained, hesitant relationship with his mother than Jim does, but he'd be reasonably willing to place his bet on yes. "I just had to... get the hell away from everyone else for a while."

[smartass_captain]

Now that gets Jim to stop sipping his coffee hella fast. The glower that passes across his face is short lived but so intensely upset. Jim does as much as he can to not think about or speak to their mother as much as he can help it. Maybe it would have been better if he had run away from home after their incident. Gotten some time and space to deal on his own terms.

He takes a gulp of his coffee to hold back the word he'd been tempted to spit out.

"We didn't stay together. Pretty sure she only came back to sit on the committee to oversee my competency to keep my ship." There's no hiding the anger in his voice, nor the ease at which he assumes what he will about his mother. It's another old wound, but one this Jim has not made any attempts to mend. Nor, it seems, has he allowed his mother to try and mend it either.

[boldygoing]

On the committee? Now that is different, and considerably more vitriolic than his own relationship with her. Not that their relationship is good, but he's managed to sit through one awkward family dinner with the help of a hefty buffer of other people. Marking that as one of the many sensitive spots in the minefield that is Jim Kirk's family life, he decides to steer the hell around probing any deeper unless his older counterpart chooses to vent about it on his own. Prying into family shit unbidden was not part of his plan for the evening.

"Helps that I didn't see her much. I came this close to leaving before she made it back anyway. Still not sure I shouldn't have." He doesn't really know what the hell to even expect from her anymore. He can't just forget everything she did. Everything she didn't do. And he doesn't have a clue where this is going to end up. Not playing happy families, that's for sure. Is it actually worth it to try?

He's been thinking about that for a long time now, with no end in sight.

He shakes his head a little, casting off the topic like a dog throwing off water. No need to go any further down that route. He gets enough nagging from McCoy about it anyway. "If I never see that place again, it's too soon." Too many bad memories to ever be comfortable there, no matter how long he stayed. "Home's not planetside anyway."

[smartass_captain]

The house...well. Jim's feelings on that are complicated as many things are by Felix. A hefty amount of redecorating, throwing out old shit that hurt too much to look at, and some very nice new memories did wonders to ease the pain of those old floorboards.

"The house is fine, I guess. Made it my own with a bit of pushing from some friends a few years ago. S'helped. I'm never there save when I need a real bath though." Most convenient damn thing, PINpoints. Felix has fallen in love with the old farmhouse and working the bath has pretty much been the only thing he's taught himself how to do in Jim's home. The thought eases the resting bitchface and replaces it with a bittersweet kind of look for just a moment.

"Felix really likes it there. Only been a few times, but. I'll probably keep it even if I can't see myself living there anytime soon." Or ever, really. Might be a nice place to visit once in a while though. For as little love as Jim has for his home the location itself holds a lot of nostalgia for him. He's kinda glad to be a hick from Iowa.

"Anyway, Home's Out There." Jim raises his mug and gestures to the sky with a nod of agreement. It's where they belong. Both of them. "You'll be out there soon."

[boldygoing]

Huh. Well that's... unexpected. But he's not gonna point any fingers or do any complaining. They've learned to take what they can get when they can get it, and if the older captain feels enough of an attachment to that place to hang onto it, more power to him. He may not be fond of the place himself, but Iowa... yeah, it's not a bad place to visit every now and again. The shipyards alone make it worth it.

Jim raises his own mug to join in the mock toast, completely on board with wrapping up that topic. Enough said already. "To getting back Out There," he agrees. And the sooner he can shove all this shit back in the deepest, darkest corners of his memories where it belongs, the better.

To that end, he sets down his mug a moment and turns the chessboard so that the other captain can take control of white. Seems only fair to let him go first, seeing as he's the guest this time.

[smartass_captain]

Jim watches the board turned toward him and gives the younger captain a nod. He hasn't forgotten their bargain from last time. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a data pad and hands it over to his opponent dutifully. All the notes and looking up he did about Spock's preferred gambit are already laid out.

"Lets see if you can beat me while you've got that. It's called the Abrukhaya gambit. It's a fucking ruthless white-first aggressive push that Spock kicks my ass with from time to time. I used it back on him once and ended up in a stalemate but it was worth it to see him put together that I'd figured it out. You want to focus on your Queen-side of the board first."

Jim moves one of his pawns forward.

"The goal is to lay out a couple of traps and then either capitalize on them only having one unit deep in your ranks or take a shitload of material while they panic about what to address first."

[boldygoing]

The cat snuggled up against the older captain's side looks up at the movement, tail twitching lazily. Across the table, Jim accepts the datapad, looking over the files, impressed - though not surprised - at the thoroughness of the research. "Wow, this must've taken you a while to put this together." It's certainly longer than he's gonna be able to study in-depth in one sitting, but he won't be able to use it himself just yet anyway. So he skims the text, listening to the other's explanations of the tactic, nodding along.

"Nice," he says out loud, admiring the sheer Vulcanness of the strategy. "Logical to make sure you've got options that can bring the pain to matter what."

It's a relief to return to just casual chess talk, leaving the more volatile conversation about their mother behind them. Jim studies the datapad for a few moments longer before setting it down, turning his attention more fully to the game. Picking his opening gambit, plucking one of the black knights up off the board and setting it in play. "Why only once in a while? Too afraid you'd catch on sooner, or trying to do the false sense of security thing?"

[smartass_captain]

"Well, for one, Spock usually lets us go first. It's not as useful when starting as Black." Jim waits for his younger companion to move his knight first and smiles slightly. Nods along with the move. "Okay so with your knight there, it's not very far into the field. So I'd move my other pawn now and open the board to more of my pieces."

He settles back into his seat, much more relaxed than he'd been before. The fatigue shows more readily on his face, but it just means Jim's not trying as hard to hide it from his companion. The purring of the cat is a soothing constant and Jim has one hand absently scratching the kneazle idly while he sips at his coffee with his free hand.

He hasn't had the fresh stuff since before...well. Before Halloween.

"The other reason I suspect He doesn't play it too often is that Spock really gets a kick out of playing a reactionary game. He waits for me to do a thing and then counters it with his own strategy. I feel like beating me at that kind of play amuses him far more than just steamrolling me from the start. I'm most often to see this gambit if I've been annoying him by my play style or if I've beaten him recently.

[boldygoing]

"Still?" Jeez, he'd think after three years, Spock would realize that giving his captain an advantage is a good way to get his ass beat. Of course, he's going to be starting with even more of a headstart, with this kind of research in his pocket. Score one for the multiverse.

He leans forward to study the board, mapping out how the strategy would play out from here, as he understands it so far. More importantly, how to cut it off before it can get too deep into his own defenses. Queen side first, he'd said... Jim moves one of his pawns the full two spaces forward, aiming to counter aggression with aggression, keeping his eye on potential places to position his pieces to start taking out the vanguards in the other captain's strategy. Might not work, but he's got to start experimenting somewhere. And the stakes aren't as high this time, thank fuck.

"Got him right in the pride, huh?" he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not that he'd admit feeling any such thing."

[smartass_captain]

"So you're moving in aggressively which is good. This is when the traps start." Jim maneuvers his own knight into striking position and gestures to the board again. "Rather than capitalize on the material you can take right away you set up multiple potential moves and get the opponent focused on the pieces they're about to lose rather than how much real estate of the board you're grabbing to set these up."

Jim watches the younger companion make a few more moves--capturing his initial pawn and pushing a bit harder. He hasn't stopped idly scratching Crookshanks while he plays and the cat has not stopped his contented purring. Between it and the lecture on the game Jim is the closest he's been to relaxed since the incident.

"Now I start capitalizing on those traps. You've undone one of them here but I still have my rook here--" Jim moves to claim a piece with an as yet untouched rook, tossing the captured pawn into the air once before catching it and safely putting it aside. "And these pieces I've already moved up. That's the gambit. Getting the opponent focused on what's on the field and not the potential players in the wings."

[boldygoing]

He nods along with the explanation, fairly certain that he's going to lose this round, but it doesn't bother him nearly as much as last time. He can almost pretend this is just a friendly game between two captains, with nothing else behind it. Whatever else the older Kirk has to ask can't be anywhere as bad as what they've already discussed. Still shitty and awful, sure. He has enough of that to fill a small database. Just... a little less.

Of course, that doesn't mean he's going to concede without a fight, either. Especially not this early in the game. "Go figure the Vulcans would invent another layer of mindgames to add to the usual ones." He's going to take a minute or two to contemplate his next move, trying to see where he might still be able to attack. Or at least try to throw a wrench into the works.

He's also using the opportunity to watch the other captain, while he's at it. It's not a surprise that he looks as shitty and sleepless as he does, but he does seem more at ease since the game began. Maybe it's the company, maybe it's the fact that he's winning. Maybe it's the cat. Or the real, non-replicated coffee. Doesn't really matter, in the end.

He finally settles on putting one of his bishops out as bait. "How long did you say it took you to figure it out again?"

[smartass_captain]

"Months. I couldn't figure out for the longest time it was a documented technique. Once I began to realize I was seeing the same moves in the same order across multiple games I documented a few games after that and did some research. Figured out what gambit it was he was using and watched a shitload of games using it before I understood exactly how the damn thing worked."

There's nothing here to set him off on trauma he doesn't want to think about for the moment and the worst of their confessions to each other have already been given. This is the closest thing Jim's had to relaxing since well before Halloween. How sad is that? But the cat, the discussion, and the coffee are definitely doing wonders to his mood.

It will somber again once the game comes to its conclusion, obviously. But even then it's not as bad as the last time. That helps.

"Has he ever pulled this shit on you yet?"

[boldygoing]

Jim takes a moment to consider that. Now that he has some idea what to look for - now that he knows it's a thing - a few of his more crushing defeats are making a little more sense. "Maybe once or twice, now that you mention it. He was going easier on me for a while over the summer." He's pretty sure he knows why. It's probably logical to ease into mental exercises like chess just like easing into all the PT he did, or something like that.

That's what he prefers to tell himself, anyway. The less said about what put him in the hospital in the first place, the better.

"Can't tell you how stoked I am to beat him at his own game. The look on his face is gonna be great."

[smartass_captain]

"Yeah both of them did on me too, but only a little." Jim rolls his eyes but it's an affectionate gesture all the same. He cares a lot for both versions of the Vulcan and is glad to call them his friends. For as much as he and Spock still argue from time to time, they make a good team. He thinks so, anyway.

"I am saving you months of frustration. I'll leave how you best want to counter it to you. Can't give you all the answers. But now you know what to look for." Jim claims the younger captain's knight and tucks it into the box with the other pieces he's removed from the tiered board already. "Please, document the look on his face. I will pay to see it."

The end of the game is coming and Jim feels his stomach tighten slightly. It's only fair, and he doesn't want to take advantage of the bearded captain because of a lecture on chess strategies from the future. Still, he's made up his mind and it should at least make things a bit more fair all things considered.

Crookshanks is getting extra pets though to calm his nerves.

[boldygoing]

"Sure," Jim agrees easily. Can't expect everything handed to him on a silver platter, and the challenge of coming up with a viable counterstrategy is the sort of thing he's been looking for to keep himself occupied. Besides, if one Jim Kirk can do it, he shouldn't have a problem with it either. Especially now that he's gotten enough notes to get a head start.

He gives brief, but serious, thought to how to smuggle a holoimager so that Spock wouldn't notice and get suspicious, but it passes briefly, set aside to contemplate later as the game continues, inching inevitably towards defeat. It's hard to miss the tenseness of the other captain's shoulders, though, which has Jim frowning ever so slightly, uncertainty coiling in his chest. Wondering what kind of question is going to be coming that would bother him just by asking.

Crookshanks purrs all the louder by the attention, half-draped over the older captain's leg by now. At least somebody here is enjoying himself.

No point in dragging things out any longer. Especially not now that there's something vaguely threatening hanging over his head, and for once, he has no real idea what to expect. Jim reaches out and tips over his king, conceding the game. Bracing himself, uncertain just how bad this is gonna be. "All right, hit me with it."

[smartass_captain]

His intake of breath is sharper, smile gone from his face as Jim finishes his first cup of coffee and sets the empty mug aside. Barely spares a glance at the cat on his leg for the moment. He'd given this a lot of thought over the days since they last met.

"I'm gonna do something a little bit different. I know we talked about my not interfering with shit that matters, but I'm gonna. Just a little bit."

Jim leans forward slightly and stares down his bearded counterpart.

"You don't have a damn idea what you're going to do about engineering, do you. I want to talk about that, today. An' you won't be the only one. I'm...I'm gonna talk about it too."

[boldygoing]

Oh.

Oh.

His gaze drops to the table, that lead weight sinking into his stomach. God, it feels like a lifetime ago, buried beneath all the other horrible shit that's happened since then. But it's still there, just waiting to ambush him when he least expects it.

Like during pre-flight inspections.

The kind he has coming up sooner than he'd realized.

"Shit." He clasps his hands together to keep them steady. He can do this. He can. Never mind that he hasn't really talked about it with anyone else, not even Bones. He'd told the Starfleet psych counselor exactly what he needed to say to keep the chair, claiming he didn't remember enough to be affected, but of course it isn't true. Never was.

But it's a small step down from the Nightmare. And they got through that together, somehow. Splintered into a million pieces, but out the other side. He doesn't want to talk about this, to remember what happened, but... better here, better now, than freaking out in front of his crew.

He takes a deep breath, letting it rush out of him, taking pretty much none of his anxiety with it. "I've been... trying not to think about it." Was pretty damn successful, too, although he can't take the credit for that.

[smartass_captain]

"I lied through my evals and through my hearing. Told them what they wanted to hear and figured I'd get over it on my own time. After all, it's just another part of the ship. And a part I happen to like, at that."

He's tapping nervously at his knee with the hand that isn't busy keeping Crookshanks pleased and full of pets. It's been a while for Jim but he knows the wound is fresher for his younger counterpart.

"When we did the walkthrough for the ship I nearly threw up. I don't think I've ever been more short and dismissive of anyone before. Made an excuse to get back to my quarters and fell to pieces. Every wall I'd put up between me and that event torn out from under me with just the simple sound of boots clanking against the steel walkways."

He's never told anyone about this personal hell he put himself through for months. But if he can spare this Jim Kirk even a fraction of that suffering, he's going to.

"I couldn't go down there for months. Until I had to face it. Until I got trapped in the Nexus. The door to the Nexus has only ever been the one in engineering for me and my crew. I had to begin to deal with it in order to get home. You don't have that, though. I can't even imagine how long you'd let it affect your ability to captain and suffer in silence without that."

The thought isn't accusatory. It's a fact.

"Because that's what I did up until I couldn't anymore."

[boldygoing]

It's so familiar. Even though he hasn't done it himself, it sounds so much like something he'd do. He hadn't thought too much about what it would be like, knowing damn well that it is going to be the hardest part of the inspection to endure, but he hadn't really considered the sensory details. The sound of footsteps on steel grating, like the other captain has said. The smell of industrial lubricants and coolant, the almost blinding lights, the way the open spaces tend to echo and amplify every sound.

It makes his whole body ache just thinking about it. Phantom, remembered pain, sinking deep into his bones as the minutes passed, or bursting with a startling suddenness when the core finally aligned and flung him dozens of feet, cracking vertebrae against durasteel. He doesn't remember it all, but his body remembers more than enough.

The older captain is right.

Without something to force him to deal with it, why would he try? Not when it's easier to just avoid the beating heart of his own ship, to do everything in his power to stay out of engineering and far away from that terrible reminder of the steep price he had to pay for his failure.

He swallows, raising his eyes to meet the other's, uncertain. "...what'd you do?"