losthunter | Thorn in the Garden of Life

As abruptly as it began, the dark red lighting of the access crawlway suddenly gives way to a room that Jim doesn't recognize, disoriented from the flashback. There are other people there... not Scotty. Not Spock. Who... what happened?

Wasn't there someone else here?

Wasn't he doing something?

Jim looks up at the other people, comprehension slowly filtering back into his consciousness. Oh. This is probably bad.

Outside, Hunter is a little alarmed when three more cop cars show up. He glances at his PINpoint, as he weighs out the options of waiting, or going inside to see if Jim is okay. He has a bad feeling about this.

"Hold your hands over your head..." The guard who told Jim to freeze gives him another command.

"He looks like he is in shock." The other guard kneels slightly. Far enough away from Jim that he can't be attacked, but close enough to still get a good look at him. "Were you attacked? Can you tell us what happened?"

Edited 2017-08-16 00:30 (UTC)

Jim hadn't heard the first command, not that he remembers anyway, but he complies with this one, his hands shaking slightly from the shock of the memory as he lifts them up. What the hell just happened?

Whatever it was, he doesn't want to antagonize these guys. Maybe he can still get out of this without making things worse.

"I think so," he answers, genuinely uncertain. Was he attacked? That sure didn't feel like the usual PTSD-style flashback, or the nightmares he's had ever since waking up in the hospital. It can't have been something he did to himself... so did Austin do it? Shouldn't the spells on his jacket have guarded him against that?

"There was a guy," he says slowly, truthfully. "He wanted to get access to, uh, Kingson?" He hopes that's the right name. "I was trying to stop him. That's the last thing I remember."

The radio broadcasts information about a man, matching Austin's description, running away from City Hall. The other guard tells them to follow him.

The guard who is talking to Jim nods. "We have an ER team on the way sir. You can lower your hands. No sudden movements. But you need to be checked out by their staff."

There is more radio communication that the lost sighting of the suspect.

"Get someone to check on Kingson." The guard manning the radio tells the others. "And send the ER to the east hall."

"Do you have someone we can contact?"

Ah shit. While he's glad they aren't treating him like a suspect or anything, he's never been fond of doctors, and he's even more reluctant to let an unknown medic take a look at him. He definitely doesn't want anyone finding out about his phaser, or the knife in his boot; those would be hard to explain away, especially with how suspicious this may look.

"I'm okay," he protests, lowering his hands, but he doesn't get up from his spot on the floor in case they take that as a 'sudden movement.' He doesn't want to jeopardize his chances at possibly talking his way out of this.

The last question has him hesitating. He doesn't know if he wants to get Hunter directly involved in this, not when his dad's in the building. But... maybe having someone to vouch for him is what he needs. "Yeah, his number's in my, uh, phone," he says, trying not to show his reluctance.

"Go ahead and call him." The guard tells Jim. There is more people arriving in the hallway, as the ER team reports in. And there is a few other people, judging from their suits and holsters at their side, who are bodyguards.

An ER nurse approaches where Jim is sitting. She waits for him to get off the phone, before addressing him. "It is okay to stand up now. We would like to take you to an empty room, just to check your vitals."

"And the guards would like to see if you can remember what your attacker looked like." She seems to understand that most people don't like medics, and is just taking things slow, as one should after a person has been attacked.

All these people are making Jim a little nervous, but it helps that most of their attention isn't on him. He flips open his communicator and selects Hunter's frequency in the PINpoint attachment, and sends him a brief voice message. "Hey Hunter, it's Jim. I had an unplanned problem but I'm okay. I think they want you to come get me." He's not sure of the protocol here, but that seems reasonable. And the message should be vague enough that only Hunter should understand the deeper message.

It doesn't look like he's going to get out of this, so he reluctantly gets to his feet, knowing damn well he can't order her around like he can with Bones. With any luck, this'll be quick. Already the shock of reliving his fatal irradiation is leaving his limbs, though the memory itself is still seared into his consciousness.

"Yeah, I remember what he looked like." It'd be easier if he could give them the sketch, but any police officer worth their salt would want to know where he got it, how he had it, and why he tried to handle this himself instead of turning it over to the police. So he just gives a verbal description of Austin, as well as the man's first name.

Edited 2017-08-16 03:26 (UTC)

Hunter was practically pacing in the alleyway when his phone pinged with the PINpoint message. He reads it carefully. And then worries about what might have happened. He knows that the only way to answer his questions is to go into City Hall and find out for himself. Plus Jim needs him.

He braces his own uncertainties. And then heads towards City Hall.

The police officer writes down the description of Austin, and add that to their bulletin on the suspect at large. The nurse is not asking about checking his vitals right now, since Jim seems to have recovered from his incident.

Arriving at City Hall, Hunter has to report in with a guard, detailing who he is, and why he is there. One of the bodyguards seems to recognize him. And goes off to report in with Kingson. Hunter resigns himself that he might have to deal with his dad. But that doesn't matter. What matters right now is Jim.

And it is not until he is guided to where they are keeping Jim, that Hunter finally starts to relax slightly. Since there are still other people around, they can't really talk about what happened. But he can still voice his concern. "Are you okay?"

Jim, likewise, can't tell Hunter what actually happened, not with so many people around. But he can drop a few hints, and first thing on his priority list is assuring Hunter that he's not physically injured. "I'm all right now. Got thrown for a loop." His expression doesn't quite match his words, though, trying to convey 'we need to talk without witnesses' with his eyes. "Best guess is Austin attacked me when I tried to stop him." That part, the others already know, so it can't hurt to say it.

"Can we leave? I would just like to get him to see our medic." Hunter lies easily to the nurse. He figures if he mentions that another medical professional will see Jim that they should not get any protests.

"We got all the information we need. It should be no problem." The nurse smiled.

"One moment... Mr. Kingson would like to speak to you." One of the bodyguards interrupts the conversation.

Hunter shakes his head. "Tell him I will talk to him later. I have to take care of my friend." He doesn't have time to deal with his dad right now.

"But sir..." The bodyguard tries one more time.

"Listen, I am sure he has his own schedule to meet. I will call him." Hunter replies, just as determined. He offers his arm to Jim. And when they are not faced with any more attempts to make them stay, he leads Jim away from the crowded hall. Soon enough, they have left City Hall and Hunter guides Jim to the alleyway where they can use his PINpoint.

Jim keeps it together while Hunter handles the others, still trying to process what happened. And as soon as they're safe in Hunter's apartment, he has to find a place to sit down, putting his head in his hands. "I don't... I really don't know what the hell happened."

"Take your time." Hunter kneels beside where Jim is sitting. "Start at the beginning. When you found him. And go from there..."

The beginning... right. Good place to start. Jim takes a breath before he begins. "We didn't talk much outside. He said that protests wouldn't do any good... had some kind of plan, sneaking in and getting access to your dad. I don't know what he was going to do, but I don't think it was the nice kind of talk."

"I convinced him the watch would be a good addition to his disguise, and I got it on him no problem, but when I tried to detain him..." Jim shakes his head a little, still in disbelieving shock. "I don't know. One minute I had him, the next I was... in the warp core."

"The warp core?" Hunter doesn't like the sound of that. He places his hand on Jim's knee. "Do you feel drained? Constantly tired? Did he manage to curse you?"

"Maybe? I don't know. My skin felt weird and then my whole body hurt. It didn't feel like just a flashback." Jim's had his fair share, and he hates that he can tell the difference.

"Maybe it was a one-time thing? His powers struggling to defend him?" Hunter guesses. "Maybe you should just stay here for a little bit, until we get it figured out."

[ooc: anytime you want to hit him with another flashback, go ahead. I think you should be in charge of that]

Jim nods his agreement. His hands have stopped shaking, but he still feels off-kilter, and he doesn't know if it's psychological or something more ominous. The last thing he wants to do is go home, someplace where magic is completely unheard of, and have something happen there.

"Sorry I screwed this up."

[Thought so. :D Looking for a good opportunity.]

"Oh sweetheart..." Hunter moves to sit beside Jim, and wraps his arms around the other man. "You didn't screw up."

"You tried to stop him. And now, the police know that he is a potential suspect. There were also Secret Service people there... I have a feeling my dad has thrown his hat into the political field. So they will be watching for him."

"I am so sorry you got hit by his powers."

"Why didn't the enchantments work?" Jim asks, though he knows that Hunter likely won't have the answer. "I thought it was supposed to protect us against something like this."

He doesn't get much warning before he's no longer in Hunter's apartment, sitting on his couch. He's in a dark cave, sitting side by side with another boy.

"Where's Starfleet?" Tommy asks, not for the first time. The left side of his face is swathed in filthy rags, torn from his own shirt to cover the phaser burns, and Jimmy can see the red swelling of infection creeping out from under the cloth. Tommy's going to lose his eye, he's pretty sure of that. But that won't matter if they die in this shithole.

"They're supposed to protect us from stuff like this," Tommy continues, his remaining eye bright with a growing fever. "This doesn't happen in the Federation."

"Obviously they fucking don't," Jimmy snaps, so fucking sick of hearing the same bewildered, naive questions over and over. "Starfleet's not coming. They don't give a shit about us and they never have. The only one who's going to get us out of this is you and me. Stop waiting for fucking miracles."

"I don't know..." Hunter feels that perhaps he should reach out to Hermione to get those answers from her.

And then, when suddenly, Jim gets a far-away look in his eyes and starts snapping about how 'Starfleet's not coming', Hunter pulls out his PINpoint and sends a message to Hermione.

"Jim..." He softly tries to get the other man's attention. "Jim, can you hear me?"

Jim doesn't seem to hear him, and when he looks at Hunter, he doesn't seem to see him either.

Jimmy stands in the cramped confines of the cave, barely big enough for two thirteen-year-old boys, his stomach a constant searing ache in its emptiness. "I'm gonna get more water," he says, looking back over his shoulder at Tommy. "Your burns are getting worse."

It probably won't do any good. The water isn't clean and they have no way to boil or sanitize it, or even bring back more than a few mouthfuls at a time. But it's the only thing he can do.

He takes a step, and just as suddenly, he's not in the cave anymore. "Tommy?" No, not Tommy. That was years ago. "...Hunter?"

Hunter is very concerned. "This is not good Jim... I have called Hermione. And she will be here shortly to figure out what happened."

"Did you have another memory?"

"I..." He is not going to panic. He is not going to panic.

Lies. He's totally panicking.

It's not just the memories. It's Tarsus, as vivid and raw as the day it happened, and he can still feel that phantom gnawing hunger and thirst, and he can't quite stop himself from going for the one thing he knows might help.

Jim makes a beeline for the cupboard where he stashed his ration bars, and for just a moment he's overwhelmed to see so many. A box this size could've fed them for days, and it's all just sitting here, unguarded. Free for the taking. The fact that he himself put them there doesn't matter. He grabs two, shoving one in a pocket and tearing open the other, needing to banish the hunger.

Hunter keeps out of Jim's way, when he makes that beeline for the cupboard. He is more than panicked too, when Jim starts shoving some of the ration bars into his pocket.

He hears the sound of a PINpoint activating, and turns to greet Hermione. He keeps her away from Jim for the moment, feeling that right now it would be a bad idea to get between Jim and his intended goal.

"Something really weird is going on..." Hunter's voice breaks as he tries to explain. "From what I can understand, he is having flashbacks. And when they happen he just completely goes into that moment."

"I think Austin managed to curse him..." Hunter sighs.

"Jim?" Hermione's voice calls out to the captain. "Can I take a look at you? I want to figure out what happened."

Jim hates showing weakness in front of others, even if they're friends. Even that isn't enough to stop him from devouring half of the ration bar, barely tasting it at all, part of him embarrassed to be like this in front of people.

He stops himself from eating the other half, carefully wrapping it back up and shoving it into his other pocket, saving it for later. With a little food in his belly and the weight of more resting against him, the panic recedes a little, and he reminds himself that there's more still. He doesn't have to worry about it going bad before he can eat it, or worry about it getting stolen from him to feed someone else. Someone from the other list.

"Just... just a second." He skips getting a glass and drinks straight from the tap in the kitchen, cupping his hands to catch the water and raise it to his mouth. The last handful, he splashes on his face, as if it could help wash away the memories. It doesn't make a damn bit of difference, but the cold and wet helps anchor him to the here and now, just a little more.

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