losthunter | Thorn in the Garden of Life

Right, Jim remembers Hunter telling him a little about the country's current leader. "Sounds like a political shitstorm waiting to happen. Hopefully the people who disagree with those close-minded ideas are more numerous."

"One can hope..."

"But one good thing is that Senators like my dad take attacks against them very seriously." Hunter still feels like he wants to hit Austin.

Jim starts to say, "Any kind of attack should be taken seriously," before another unwanted memory is abruptly brought to the surface.

The sound of the engines descending behind him draws his attention as the room floods with red emergency lights, and he stands, turning around to face the threat. The jumpship hovers in front of the window, its phaser cannons taking aim at the officers inside.

At him.

"Clear the room!" Jim shouts, as heavy phaser fire fills the air, energy bolts sizzling past his head, showering him in shattered glass. He dives under a table, shielding his head with his hands as the screams of his fellow officers ring out in his ears, above the sounds of weapons fire.

The table topples over and he takes refuge behind it, a poor shield against the volatile energy lashing out and striking nearly every person in the room. He doesn't know where Spock is, or Pike, but there's no time to worry about that. The threat has to be stopped.

He catches a break in the fire and dashes out into the corridor, scooping up a dropped phaser rifle from the downed security team. When did they even get here? Jim hadn't noticed, but now that he's armed, he moves to get an angle on the jumpship, and the man inside it. John Harrison.

He has to be stopped.

Hunter knows immediately that another memory flashback has stolen Jim away from him. And it seems to be a bad memory.

He pauses uncertainly, when Jim dives for the floor. He is shielding his head from an unseen attack. And then he moves, like he is taking cover. The result of the action ends him in the living room.

Hunter circles Jim, just to make sure that he is not endangering himself.

Then Jim makes a break for it, dashing towards the balcony exit. Luckily, Hermione has created a similar Protego shield on both doors, so Jim can't leave the apartment involuntarily. Hunter notices that Jim has picked up a large paintbrush, which might feel like a phaser in his hands.

At least he can't shoot anyone.

"Jim?" Hunter really doesn't want to lock Jim in the shower, unless absolutely necessary. "Jim, listen to my voice. Break free of the memory sweetheart..."

It's utter chaos.

Jim shatters the glass in the corridor with one well-placed shot, and pumps several rounds into the jumpship. The emergency vehicle shrugs off every shot, and Harrison doesn't even seem to notice. A mere fly to a predator on the hunt, easily ignored in favor of more tantalizing prey.

There's noise in his ears, but he can't listen, can't focus on anything other than stopping this maniac before he kills every single person in the building. He tears open the emergency unit in the wall, tying the fire hose around the phaser rifle and chucking it into the jumpship's engine. The engine whines as it sucks in the hose, and pulls in the entire unit, ramming it wholesale right through the air intake. A huge cough of black smoke immediately explodes from the jumpship, and it begins falling from the sky, a white swirl of energy signaling Harrison's escape.

Jim watches until the man is gone, the vehicle still plummeting for the plaza below, before he turns back towards the conference room. Bodies are everywhere, some still groaning or writhing in pain, others still and silent. Behind a pillar, half-shielded from the origin of the attack, Spock kneels over a bloodied body in an admiral's uniform.

Jim comes back to himself as abruptly as he left, the adrenaline and grief as sharp as they were the day it happened.

Hunter curses when Jim doesn't break free of the memory right away. And he starts to really worry when Jim tries to tear open the balcony door itself.

"Fuck..." He doesn't even know if he can lead Jim to the shower staff.

And then he has to dodge, when Jim mimics tying something to his 'paintbrush', and then throws it across the room.

"Jim?" Hunter asks again. "Can you hear me?"

"Fuck..." Jim drops to his knees, much as he did the day that this happened, and presses his hands against his eyes, as if it could block out the memories. "This curse sucks." It's a massive understatement, and not quite enough to let him look like he's okay. This shit hurts, gouging deep every time a bad memory comes to the surface, like sliding a knife in between his ribs.

Hunter cautiously moves towards Jim. He feels close to tears himself, hating seeing Jim like this. And when he gets close enough, he places his hand on Jim' shoulder, to show his support.

"I'm so sorry Jim. I hate that you have to go through this."

The hand on his shoulder is so much like what Jim did to Spock, that day. Not in comfort, but needing the support and stability of his first officer and friend so he wouldn't fall apart. This time, it's Jim on the receiving end of it, and he doesn't know if Hunter is taking the same support from the touch as he had.

"It was Daystrom this time," he says, trying to keep his voice from shaking. The place where Admiral Pike died.

In a way, Hunter is both giving and seeking support. He needs to know that Jim is okay. That they will be okay.

Hearing what memory that Jim relieved has Hunter shaking slightly.

"Oh Jim..." He moves closer to wrap the other man in a tight embrace.

Jim holds tight to Hunter, taking what little comfort he can, right now. There's nothing that either of them can say to make it hurt any less, but he appreciates that he's not alone right now.

It takes a few minutes before he has the presence of mind to ask. "Did I... do any damage this time?"

"No. Fortunately, Hermione had warded the exits... you almost headed out the balcony door." And that would have been horrible, if Jim had taken the wrong step outside on the balcony.

"You threw a paint brush at me. But I wasn't hit."

Thank fuck for magic. The thought that he might've accidentally killed himself in the grips of a flashback sends a shiver down his spine.

"It was a phaser rifle..." A paintbrush, apparently. At least it was a much more harmless thing to throw, this time.

"You know... I never even thought about what we are going to do about sleep." Hunter fears that the memories will come more frequently, once Jim tries to let his mind relax. He is already struggling so much, dealing with the ones that are coming. And they are so erratic.

Jim is still reeling a bit from the trauma of the relived memory, but even that gets his attention, and it helps a little to have a problem to focus on. He rubs at his eyes, wiping away the dampness that isn't quite tears.

"I hadn't thought about that either..."

"I want you to try to get some rest..." Hunter insists. Jim's mind and body is going through a lot, reliving these memories.

"I have worked through long art sessions before. It would be best, if I stayed alert and ready to handle anything else that happens."

"You need rest too," Jim protests, but he's still pretty shaken.

He doesn't really know what their options are. Or even if he'll be able to get any sleep tonight. He has a bad track record with sleep aids, but if the alternative is him possibly hurting himself or Hunter while the nightmares control him, maybe that's worth another try.

"Maybe we could knock me out somehow."

"And I will crash hard, when you are better..." Hunter has done this sort of thing before, where he gets caught up in finishing an art project. But he understands (and appreciates) Jim's concern for him.

"Oh God..." He pales slightly thinking about knocking Jim out. "I don't think I could... how would we do that?"

Jim is momentarily alarmed, before he realizes how that sounded. "I meant with drugs," he says quickly, before Hunter's imagination goes to darker places. "Sleeping pills or something."

"Oh!" Hunter takes a moment to let that thought absorb in his mind.

"I don't have any sleeping pills here. And I don't want to leave you alone."

"No, probably not." While in theory, Hunter could probably lock him up for the time it would take to go and find some kind of sedative, the idea of being alone with his own thoughts is more disturbing than usual right now.

"And I... I really don't like the idea of having to drug you. It is bad enough that we have a place to lock you up... I don't really know if I could do that." Hunter runs both hands over his head this time.

"It reminds me too much of that first couple of months with Lindy. How I treated her, because I was just so desperate to end my curse."

"And I really don't want to treat you... like a captive."

"Hunter..." Jim understands his concerns. He really does. There are no easy solutions, no good answers. But he has nightmares all the time, even without a curse dredging up the worst his memories have to offer. It just doesn't seem likely that he'll be able to sleep through the night normally. Or maybe at all.

"I just... I don't want to hurt you."

Hunter wants to protest that Jim could never hurt him. But they already had a couple of close calls. And it pains him that he can't get through to Jim, when he is having a flashback.

"I will message Hermione. Maybe she can send us something." He sounds defeated. But they don't have any other solutions.

"We'll figure something out." Jim isn't entirely certain of that, but it's all he can say. It's just for two days, give or take... how long has it even been? He's lost track.

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