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

[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?"

[smartass_captain]

"Hey."

The patronizing platitudes don't come. Jim doesn't tell him 'it's okay' knowing damn well it isn't. He stays leaning forward like he is. Blue eyes piercing as they hold the younger captain's attention.

"You don't have to do it all at once." Waiting until the walk through of the ship had been twenty kinds of stupid which is why Jim's reaching out like this.

Jim remembers the buzzing in his ears of his own dying desperation to finish the job. Save the ship. Get out of the core while he could still breathe. Remembers his vision webbing at the edges when they asked him if he had any questions. Blowing them off, making excuses about paperwork and inventories. His knees collapsing underneath him before the door to his quarters was even shut. The sobs and screams he muffled with his hands until he was too weak to make them anymore. Waking up on the floor however long after and knowing he shouldn't be alive.

He shouldn't be alive, but he is.

"Make time to see Scotty. Ask about the repairs to the ship. Put yourself in a safe place and and then ask about his work in engineering. You won't be there on the ship. You'll be somewhere safe, far from it. Make a habit out of it, ask him for regular updates. The more he talks the easier it gets. We used to love engineering, you know? I can go down there now and be fine. The only place that bothers me still is the door but even that I can handle."

They're Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Enterprise and no part of the ship--their ship--is going to own them.

"You have to make a point of going there for other reasons. Helping Scotty out on a pet project or another of his. Making time to get to know the new recruits assigned there. Any excuse to get you in there and out safely again."

[boldygoing]

It helps to know that there are no nonsensical soothing words coming, no cliche sympathies delivered by someone ignorant of the suffering he endured, both then and now, even months after the fact. It's someone who knows, knows more than even he does, a glimpse at the ordeal still to come through familiar eyes.

Jim hates slow recoveries. Hates how he has to drag himself to every milestone, inch by inch, weighted down by his own body and mind. It took years to be okay after Tarsus, having to face what he'd suffered every meal of every day, a constant reminder that he could never escape. He'd gotten past it because he had to.

He hadn't ever thought he'd need to do the same again.

It would be so easy to just avoid Engineering completely, most of the time. But... when he can't... No buffer, no good memories built on top of the bad ones, a lasting impression of an agonizing death, a hand pressed against the glass separating him from the last human contact he'd ever have. The fear, not knowing what awaited him in the darkness closing its jaws around him, knowing only that he would be facing it alone.

Just like his father had.

His knuckles are white where his hands grasp one another, bracing himself in his seat, and listens. Listens to the one person who has been right where he is now, all the things he'd wished that he'd done, second-guesses and regrets. He doesn't want to. But maybe the alternative is worse.

He manages to nod, hesitant, almost mechanical. Struggling to force himself to accept that it's good advice, that it will help prepare him for a reality that he doesn't want to face. But if he wants to stay captain, if he wants to lead the five-year mission... he has to. "One step at a time, huh?" He doesn't bother to force a smile. No need to pretend. Not here.

[smartass_captain]

"I had to do it if I was going to get back to the ship. Had to keep doing it to help when people needed me in the Nexus until I found out about PINpoints. I broke down so many times but it helped."

Without that need, how long could Jim have put off going back down there again? Convinced himself it wasn't really that big of a deal?

"Things are going to go wrong on the mission. You know that already. What happens when there's someone infected on the ship who gets away and runs to engineering to hide out in a jeffries tube? What happens when we get attacked and someone has to go down there and help? What happens if something happens to Scotty or Keenser and no one else knows the ship better than you? Does it matter if any or all of those things have happened to me?"

Jim shakes his head.

"It doesn't. You have to be ready. This is your ship and these are your crew. They're relying on you. Yes we died there. It's not gonna be easy and it's not gonna come quickly. But you can start now and save yourself months of fucking agony."

Jim has to stop speaking. Ducks his head and closes both hands into tight fists against his knees. His own knuckles just as white as his younger counterparts' are. He's already changing the future in ways he can't predict but goddammit, after everything they just lived through, this is one pain Jim wants to make easier for the other.

"I wish I'd done it sooner." It's barely above a whisper. Jim doesn't elaborate.

[boldygoing]

He doesn't elaborate, and Jim doesn't ask. They're treading on thin enough ice as it is, meddling in an alternate timeline. Like they haven't done that before.

He's been deluding himself for a while. Pretending there isn't a problem, putting it off 'til later. But his older companion is right. An emergency is a shitty time to find out that he can't deal with it. Over four hundred lives could depend on him being able to set foot in Engineering without breaking down. And it really doesn't matter if it's happened to the other captain or not. He has to be ready for anything.

And purposefully avoiding his fears will do him no favors, no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

He has no comfort to offer, nor none to take. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't even be having this conversation. He would've shut down, slammed the door in their face, and continued to build his walls higher and higher, ignoring the crumbling foundation beneath.

But this isn't anyone else.

"I'll... send a message to Scotty tomorrow," he decides, hesitant, fighting to keep the tremor from his voice. He's spoken to the engineer since waking up in the hospital, but not like this. Not with the intent of exposing himself to the place where he died, piece by piece.

[smartass_captain]

"It's your choice. I spent the last few days thinking about whether or not I should even bring this up." Jim doesn't need his counterpart to promise him anything. He's certainly not the other's parent, commanding officer, or even family. They're something else. Right now a something uniquely qualified to be talking to the other one.

Neither of them has any experience in dealing with psychology, but since neither would talk to one in the first place it hardly matters. This is as close to therapy as they're going to get.

"We...can keep playing in silence if you'd rather. Or, we can skip the next game and you can ask me something back. This really shouldn't count as a match since I was showing you Spock's gambit."

[boldygoing]

"No, you... you did the right thing." He meets the eyes of the man across the table, and even if he doesn't like the message one bit, even Jim Kirk knows how to listen to himself. Sometimes when he won't, or can't, listen to anyone else. He doesn't feel pressured to agree for any other reason than that he's right.

His mistakes have already led to the deaths of ninety-six crew. Ninety-seven, if he counts himself. He can't let it happen again. Not when there's something he can do about it.

Is there nothing you would not do for your family...?

He shakes his head a little, as if trying to dislodge that thought, the memory slithering unwanted into his mind. He doesn't particularly want the conversation to stop completely, leaving him with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. And he's pretty sure he knows where his mind will go, after this. Which old wounds will ache in the wake of being poked and prodded.

Old wounds... Jim's hand drifts up to his shoulder on reflex, even though the bite has healed over, leaving only pinkish scars that should fade with time. There is something he's been wondering, unsure if he wants to know the answer. The other captain hasn't held it against him, not that he's noticed, but... "After I... got bitten... did I hurt you?"