losthunter | Thorn in the Garden of Life

"And especially since you will be heading on your five-year mission soon... I just want to provide you with a place where you feel like you can relax. Where you don't have to be a Captain... you can just be Jim."

"My Jim..." Hunter smiles.

"I appreciate that. It's nice to spend time with somebody I don't have to order around later. You're good company. And a good cook." Truth be told, Jim probably wouldn't mind if Hunter was a terrible cook, but that's definitely a bonus.

It's also nice that the curse seems to be giving him a break at the moment. He's sure he'll pay for it later, but any break in the awful flashbacks is a welcome one. Particularly over a meal.

"Hmmmm I do have to admit I do get shivers when you speak in that captain voice. So I am glad I don't hear it all the time..." Hunter chuckles.

"And we wouldn't be enjoying the relationship we have... if I was one of your crew."

"No, we wouldn't," Jim agrees.

He's already eaten a good portion of both chicken and wedges, enough to ease any lingering food anxiety for the moment. With a meal in his stomach and the ration bar still stashed away in his pocket, he feels somewhat confident in not freaking out over hunger in the near future.

But he still can't quite relax, getting that nagging sort of feeling that his luck won't hold out forever. It hasn't been nearly long enough for the curse to be broken.

"You know, if you want more deep-frying recipes, you could see if Bones or Scotty have any family recipes you can try out," he suggests, planning to ride this out as long as the curse will let him. "It'd be something to play with while we're gone, anyway."

Hunter is getting full himself. Anything that is left over goes into a Tupperware container (and back in the fridge for later).

"I would be happy to try out any recipes they have, or even Spock or Uhura."

Edited 2017-08-20 04:30 (UTC)

"Vulcan food's pretty good. I'll make sure to give you the address for that shop Verity found for me, before we leave." Can't have authentic Vulcan cuisine without Vulcan ingredients, after all.

Jim helps clean up, since it doesn't involve anything that might be dangerous. "So, we've got an hour." He's not sure what to do with that time. All the usual activities are out, for the time being.

[Heading out in about an hour, so this might be my last tag until Tuesday]

There are so many things that Hunter can't suggest. Since Jim can't take off his jacket, the hot tub would be a bad idea. As would offering him a massage to try to help him relax.

"I have some board games." It seems like the easiest solution.

[Enjoy yourself!]

"I haven't really learned any besides chess," Jim admits, but that isn't a no. "I'll let you make a recommendation." He's sure Hunter will select something appropriate, and easy enough for a new player to pick up.

"Well if I thought an hour was enough time for a chess game, I would recommend that." Hunter chuckles.

He decides to set up a scrabble board. Even if they don't finish tonight, it would give them something to do tomorrow.

"This one is pretty based. Make words with your tiles, and score points."

Oh good, a language game. He figures he might be good at it, so long as none of the words played sets off any unpleasant memories by association. Jim inspects the board and tiles, making note of the multipliers and so forth. "When does the game end? And are we sticking to English words only?" Seems fair, if he knows more languages than Hunter does.

"The game ends once all tiles are gone from the bag and a single player has placed all of their tiles, and the player with the highest score wins."

"And yes, I think it would be best if we stuck with English words. No proper nouns, like names."

"Sounds pretty straightforward."

Jim watches how Hunter sets up the board and how the tiles are dealed out. He's never really paid much attention to board games before, more focused on physical activities during most of his life. You need friends or family to play with, after all.

Hunter starts the game by having each of them draw a 'letter' from the bag. Jim, who drew a B, gets to go first. So he gets to draw his seven letters first. Then Hunter. And of course, that gives Jim a head start, since the first word placed on the board counts as a double-word score.

The game is pretty quiet. Hunter tallies the score as they go along, keeping track of double word scores, triple word scores, and times when two words align slightly so that smaller two-letter words are formed.

And it is a good way to pass the hour, especially if Jim doesn't have any flashbacks during the game.

Once it gets closer to the assigned 'bed time', they are pretty much at the end of their game. Hunter tallies both sides, and Jim wins the game. The only thing left is to get ready for bed.

[figured this was better than a word-by-word commentary]

For the most part, the game is uninterrupted. A handful of times, one of the words on the board pulls Jim momentarily into a memory, mercifully nothing violent or frightening this time around. Not really good memories, either, just neutral. At least one revolves around one of his lessons in literature in the third grade, resulting in a minor zone-out moment where Jim is unresponsive, but doesn't last very long.

And fortunately, once the time comes to get ready for bed, Jim has visited and stayed over often enough that he already has a small stash of personal items in Hunter's bathroom. He trades his jeans for soft pajama pants and brushes his teeth, trying not to think about how creepy the whole idea of the dreamless sleep potion is.

"I really hope this works."

[Fine with me. I am also thinking maybe when Jim wakes up in the morning, he has a longer flashback than previous ones. Like the potion only delays the ones he would've had overnight.]

"Me too." Hunter still doesn't like the idea of Jim having to drink the potion. But what other choice do they have.

He holds out one bottle of purple liquid to Jim.

[My thoughts were along the same suggestion. He has no flashbacks during the night, but a longer flashback when he awakens. And perhaps even that he 'awakens' in the flashback, which could be more disorienting.]

Jim looks down into the bottle, aware that this is his last chance to back out of the whole thing. Like James Tiberius Kirk is the type to chicken out of something like this. "Bottoms up," he mutters, and downs the potion.

Hermione had said that it was going to affect him immediately, but it's still a surprise when it starts hitting him before he's even lowered the bottle. "Huh," he says, suddenly feeling like he's run a hundred miles, and he sways a little on his feet.

[Like waking up in a dream you mean? Possibly... I did have a specific memory in mind for him, but there could be a couple different ones in a row without him returning to reality first.]

Hunter can see that the potion is at least making Jim tired. That is a good sign. He prepares the sofa in the bedroom, located by the fireplace, making it ready for his own bed time.

He just hopes Jim gets the sleep he needs.

[A couple different ones in a row sound appropriate.]

Jim had intended to say goodnight, but it's all he can do to just keep his eyes open long enough to put the bottle down and crawl into bed. The discomfort of sleeping with the jacket on fades by the minute, providing absolutely no obstacle to his descent into sleep.

But it feels wrong.

Unnatural.

Like lying in the floor of the warp core's access corridor, radiation eating away at his body, the blurry form of Spock on the other side of the glass as darkness closes in around him. There's nothing waiting for him in the dark, just the inevitable pull down, down, down, with nothing he can do to fight it. He reaches out a hand to put it on the glass separating himself from Spock, but even as he does, he can feel his arm weakening, giving out as the last of his life leaves his body.

Jim shivers a little as the potion drags him down into sleep, and then he lies as still as he did when he was comatose at Starfleet Medical, with only the rise and fall of his chest to show that he's breathing.

Hunter watches Jim carefully as he drops into a deep sleep. He noticed that moment when he reached out a hand, then it drops.

He cleans up the empty bottle. And places a soft kiss on Jim's forehead, before getting into his own bed.

He is able to get some sleep, but it is not a full night's sleep. Every now and then, he wakes up, a little disoriented about being on the sofa. And then he has to check on Jim, just to make sure that the other man is still asleep without any flashbacks. Or other nightmares.

Overall, Hunter is too worried about Jim to get a good night's sleep tonight. He will be awake for the morning, before the potion finally wears off and Jim will awaken.

Normally, Jim tends to move around in his sleep a little, whether in reaction to nightmares or just seeking out a more comfortable position. This time, he doesn't twitch a muscle all night, still lying in the same position every time Hunter checks on him.

To Jim, it's not even very much like being in a coma. At least then, he was vaguely aware that people were with him, hearing snatches of voices and hospital sounds, even if he doesn't remember what he heard. Now, it's just darkness and silence wrapping around him like a cocoon, not even enough to recognize it for what it is, a smooth transition from his last state of waking to the next, with no real sense of how time has passed.

And the last thing he remembers is dying in the warp core.

He's lying down in the dirt, his clothes and one of his arms uncomfortably twisted beneath him, but he doesn't dare move a muscle. Along his sides, he can feel the lifeless bodies of his fellow colonists, still smoking from the fatal burns in their chests, their heads, their bellies. Lying across his chest is the weight of his aunt, her bony elbows digging into his ribs, unseeing eyes staring down at him, bearing unshed tears that will never fall.

Beyond her body, he can hear the repeated sound of weapons fire and screams, as more of Kodos' men shoot those who have been slated to die, and the soft sounds of bodies falling to the ground or on top of each other. The moans of the wounded are cut off abruptly as more weapons fire, finishing off those who didn't die the first time, until the screaming finally stops.

"Check the bodies," that deep, measured voice orders, the same one that stood above the plaza and announced the execution of half the colony. Footsteps walk among the corpses, prodding at bodies, checking for signs of breath. Every now and then, a shot rings out, snuffing out the life of another survivor. Jimmy lies still and silent, forcing himself to take shallow breaths, praying that it's enough to escape notice underneath the body of his aunt, every animal instinct in his body screaming for him to get up and run and go go go.

If he does, he's dead. It's as simple as that.

Edited 2017-08-23 14:10 (UTC)

In all honestly, it is a little unnerving to know that Jim hasn't moved a muscle all night. And every time that Hunter checked on him, he checked for a pulse. To make sure that those shallow breaths are still there.

So, since right now, he is still laying still, Hunter has no idea that Jim is experiencing a flashback. He just checks on Jim again, before heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started.

The footsteps approach where Jimmy lies, and the body on top of him shifts as the man prods at it, testing for signs of life. It seems like an eternity before he turns away, moving on to inspect the next body, but still Jimmy can't move, gripped by terror and the certainty that it still isn't safe to escape.

Until at last, the footsteps are far enough away that he can drag himself out of the pile of corpses, blood staining his clothes and skin, and he makes a break for an alleyway that leads out of the square. Unarmed, terrified, shellshocked, he puts as much distance between himself and the town square as he can.

But where can he go? He can't risk taking refuge with a neighbor. Not looking like this. Not when he was on the List. If they don't know yet, they will sooner or later. No, he has to get away from the settlement entirely. But he can't go without supplies. Even just a knife, for self-defense. Jimmy stays low, and heads back toward his aunt's house, hoping it hasn't been looted yet. And all the while, he keeps a wary eye out for other people, for any sign that he's being pursued, and his back itches as he expects a sniper to take him down at any moment.

Hunter finally realizes that Jim is having a flashback, when he sees the other man shows up in the living room, looking frightened and scared. He watches Jim's actions carefully, not sure what is going on in his head. He just seems to be in a daze, moving around the apartment, and every now and then checking to make sure that no one is around.

"Jim?" Hunter doesn't know if Jim will hear him. It hasn't worked before.

"Jimmy?"

He's not on Tarsus anymore, the abrupt change in scenery unnoticed as blinding pain shoots up his spine and into his head. Jimmy wakes, all but collapsed on the floor of the bathroom at the Kirk farmhouse, and Sam's concerned face hovers over him. A cool hand touches his forehead, and he shivers from the fever, trying to lean into the touch before the sharp pain in his back stops him at once.

"Jeez, Jimmy, you're burning up. Why didn't you say something?"

The words don't want to come, but he forces them out, past the pain in his head. "I thought it was nothing..."

Sam says a bad word, one that he's heard Frank use when he thinks no one is listening, and there's the sound of running water before something cool and wet slaps over his forehead. "Stay right there. I'm getting Frank. You've gotta go to the hospital."

"I can't, I've got a test today, I can make it..." His protest is weak, though, and Sam is already too far away to hear, his footsteps thudding away down the stairs as he hollers for their stepfather.

Hunter is growing concerned, since Jim has not broken free from his flashback yet. And he is only getting half of the conversation, as Jim says the words that he would have said, before in the past.

He is not moving much this time. He is laying on the floor, away from anything that might accidentally hurt him.

Hunter hovers close by, waiting to see if he can do anything to help Jim.

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