Jim Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smartass_captain) wrote2017-12-01 07:58 pm
smartass_captain) wrote2017-12-01 07:58 pm
Entry tags:
Picking up the Pieces ( for conjuredskies )
They made it out alive.
It still hasn't quite sunk in fully yet. Jim's body still tensed and coiled with every step ready to go into fight or flight mode at the drop of a hat. Everything hurts. His hand feels like he's grabbing a redhot wire with every beat of his heart. Both knees are bloody with glass, dirt and who knows what else in the wounds. He's bruised literally everywhere and his stomach doesn't know what the fuck is going on anymore the way he's been swinging between starvation and mildly hungover. The concept of relaxing being fought tooth and nail by his body's override of survive that pushes him to keep moving keep fighting get somewhere safe.
Even with Felix in hand, Jim feels like he's lost a limb coming back to the ship without his younger counterpart. We go together or not at all. We go together or not at all. But even that ended up in tragedy. The younger captain changed and warped, turning into just another Jim Eating Monster and that's a blow Jim doesn't need. Not being able to even trust himself.
Jim's unaware that Felix has maneuvered him onto his couch until he's suddenly sitting and his knees scream with the protest of bending. A shaky gasp of pain eeks out of Jim's throat that he tries to stifle. Not safe to make noise not safe not safe. Unaware that it's Felix who's calling the lights to thirty percent, who's getting a cup of coffee from the replicator. Who's acting as though they belong in this place. Right now, Jim doesn't feel like a starship captain. His mind is still jammed stuck firmly in the past and to the facades of ghosts who shouldn't have been on Tarsus.
It's going to be a long night.
[This is gonna be a heavy read and deal with trauma and heavy subjects you are warned.]
It still hasn't quite sunk in fully yet. Jim's body still tensed and coiled with every step ready to go into fight or flight mode at the drop of a hat. Everything hurts. His hand feels like he's grabbing a redhot wire with every beat of his heart. Both knees are bloody with glass, dirt and who knows what else in the wounds. He's bruised literally everywhere and his stomach doesn't know what the fuck is going on anymore the way he's been swinging between starvation and mildly hungover. The concept of relaxing being fought tooth and nail by his body's override of survive that pushes him to keep moving keep fighting get somewhere safe.
Even with Felix in hand, Jim feels like he's lost a limb coming back to the ship without his younger counterpart. We go together or not at all. We go together or not at all. But even that ended up in tragedy. The younger captain changed and warped, turning into just another Jim Eating Monster and that's a blow Jim doesn't need. Not being able to even trust himself.
Jim's unaware that Felix has maneuvered him onto his couch until he's suddenly sitting and his knees scream with the protest of bending. A shaky gasp of pain eeks out of Jim's throat that he tries to stifle. Not safe to make noise not safe not safe. Unaware that it's Felix who's calling the lights to thirty percent, who's getting a cup of coffee from the replicator. Who's acting as though they belong in this place. Right now, Jim doesn't feel like a starship captain. His mind is still jammed stuck firmly in the past and to the facades of ghosts who shouldn't have been on Tarsus.
It's going to be a long night.
[This is gonna be a heavy read and deal with trauma and heavy subjects you are warned.]
no subject
Taking a life, even if it was deserved, isn't Jim's way. It goes against everything he stands for. Every life ended by his hands and his choices taking something away from him too.
But oh. Blue eyes regain some of their light. Raise up tentatively to meet Felix's gaze. It was a nightmare designed to torment him. This is true. That's why it made him think Felix had died in his arms. It was why they were starving. And...and why they chose to take a man's life even though it wouldn't save anyone.
As strong as Jim's self loathing is, he can't argue with this. Instead he nods numbly in agreement. His fingers reaching out to cling at Felix's sleeve.
"But it...it's done now." A reminder to himself as much as anything.Maybe the conjurer is right. His relaxation is minute but it's there all the same.
no subject
"It's done," he affirms. "It's over." He wants nothing more than to just sit here, looking at Jim's face and being here to offer comfort. Something in him still won't settle, though. There's a twist in his gut that only tightens as he sits with Jim. A prickle of his nerves that says, You shouldn't be here. It's too close.
"...Let me clear up and get that plate off you," he says finally. "Your shoulders must be sore by now. I'll be right back." Let Stratos worry about cleaning it - or maybe someone else should. Felix thinks of his brother's harrowed expression earlier. That's a problem for the morning. He pushes himself up, clearing away the bloodied wipes and raided first aid kit besides washing his own hands. Stopping to breathe as calmly as he can for the two minutes he's out of Jim's sight.
It's fine. He's under his own control now. He won't lose it. They're both safe here.
It's fine.
Just don't think about it.
no subject
Jim confirms Felix's thoughts before the other one is gone, disappeared into the bathroom Jim shares with Spock. Panic seizes at him the moment Felix is out of sight but Jim tries to stop from shaking too badly. Wraps his arms around himself tightly and tries to breathe. Deep breaths, Jim.
Felix is alive and right over there. It's fine. He's not gone the moment he's out of sight.
With his hand and knees healed Jim can move a bit more freely. He leans over to fumble with his boots, slip them off. He only has the one sock on since the other one had been tied round his hand to stop the bleeding. It's about as much as he can manage in the couple of minutes Felix is out of sight.
How is he going to function after tonight?
Get it together, Jim. Get it together.
no subject
"Come on, let's get that off you. It's not your look anyway..." He fumbles his way through each stay and fastening, then helps Jim try to pull the armor off over his head. Has to do it twice, because he forgot to undo a couple of fastenings. Finally the armor's dumped aside, followed by the bloodied undershirt. His hands linger on Jim's skin as he works, squeezing his arms and stroking his back with the need to reassure them both.
"Should get you cleaned up," he mumbles, not knowing why that thought fills him with dread. "Want to try the shower? Or I'll just take care of you..." He really doubts Jim can manage a shower, to tell the truth. But he'll help- he has to. The tightness in his chest doesn't matter, it's what Jim needs.
no subject
Anything to get the stench of rotting grain, moth eaten curtains, and wet fur out of his nose. To quell the profound feeling of being tainted and unclean that the Nightmare has left him with. To remove the rest of Kodos' blood from his person. Wash it all away.
Jim's rocking back and forth slightly, unaware of the motion.
"N...need to get clean. I'm not sure a sonic's g-gonna do the trick this time."