losthunter | Thorn in the Garden of Life

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.

The pain in his neck and the icy feeling of the soaked cloth on his forehead trigger another shift in memory, and Jim comes back to awareness in a cramped escape pod, his shoulder aching where that pointy-eared bastard nerve pinched him. His broken hand throbs unpleasantly, but it's honestly the least of his concerns as his eyes focus, and he realizes he's looking through frost on the glass escape hatch.

Frost? "Ugh, computer, where am I?" he asks, a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Location: Delta Vega," the computer replies pleasantly. "Class M planet. Unsafe. There is a Starfleet outpost fourteen kilometers to the northwest. Remain in your pod until the arrival of summoned authorities."

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Jim leans forward, now aware that the escape pod is sitting at a skewed angle, to get a look out the hatch. The escape pod has carved a hole in the snow and ice, making a rough pit almost thirty feet deep. An easy climb, if it was rock. But it looks cold as fuck, and he has no climbing gear, but fuck no he's not staying put. He digs through the emergency gear to find the cold weather pack, but there's no way he'll be able to climb up after he bundles up.

The icy temperature blasts through the pod as he opens the hatch, and he slings the pack over his back as he scrambles out of the pod and reaches for the ice wall. "Hurry the hell up," he mutters to himself, "unless you want frostbite." His broken hand screams with the strain, but he can't afford not to use it, shivering violently as he scales the wall barehanded.

It is sort of like dealing with a sleep-walker. Hunter continues to watch and monitor Jim, unable to wake him up. And when he moves towards the wall, and tries to climb his entertainment center, all Hunter can do is place a supportive hand on Jim's back. He is only going to get a couple of inches off the floor, but it would still be dangerous for Jim to wake up at this point.

The moment Hunter touches him, the memory changes again, triggered by the feeling of a hand on his back.

Jimmy lashes out when the nurse reaches for him, unsure if the hands are meant to hurt or help but not wanting to take the risk, batting them away with a good deal of force. He's damn near feral, rapidly skittering away from the touch and seeking out a wall to put his back against, so no one can sneak up behind him again, fearful hands raised to defend himself.

He doesn't know where he is. This isn't the cave on Tarsus, or one of the abandoned houses that once held one of the bodies now buried in a mass grave outside of town. It's too clean and shiny, so bright that it almost hurts his eyes, and there's an odd roar rattling through the floor and the walls, a droning sound that doesn't go away no matter how long it lasts.

His eyes don't want to focus on the faces around him, nameless faceless people just like Kodos' men, until a shiny golden arrowhead on the closest person's chest catches his attention. Starfleet.

Fucking Starfleet.

"Where's Tommy?" he demands, and though the adrenaline is coursing through his body, his thin arms tremble from the effects of two months of starvation. "Where the hell is he? I want to see him."

Hunter immediately takes a step away up when Jim bats his hand away, and then backs up against the wall. He watches, fearful, as once again he only gets pieces of what Jim is seeing within his own mind.

The name 'Tommy' comes up again. So Hunter assumes it is another memory from when Jim was younger. And he hates that he is trapped within those memories.

"It is okay Jim. I am here."

This time, Jim pauses. Blinks a few times. He's frozen in place, disoriented, unsure where he is or what's going on. Is this Tarsus IV? The Enterprise? Delta Vega? Iowa? His heart is pounding and he doesn't know why, uncertain if he's in danger or who is in the room with him.

"...am I awake now?" he asks, still struggling to grasp what exactly is going on.

Hunter pauses for a moment himself, before realizing that this is not a flashback any more. And Jim is back in the real world.

"Fuck..." Hunter approaches to gently wrap his arms around Jim. "That was scary. One moment you were moving around the living room, the next you were trying to climb the wall, and then..."

He has to collect himself and just hold onto Jim. "You were out of it for at least 15 minutes. Could have been longer."

Jim doesn't quite relax in Hunter's hold, nor does he hold him back, but he doesn't push him away either. To say that he's still confused is an understatement, only just now even recognizing Hunter and where he is.

"I don't... understand... what happened?"

What the hell was all that?

"I am not sure. I was making breakfast, when I saw you entering into living room." Hunter explained. "And then I just kept following you, to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself."

"Breakfast?" That actually surprises him, and now that he's paying attention, he can see that it's daytime. When did that happen? "I thought... maybe it was nightmares." That the potion didn't work. "I slept?"

"It has been about eight hours since you took the potion." Hunter tells him. "You seemed to be sleeping during the night. But you didn't move at all the whole night."

"I was so scared that I kept checking your pulse, whenever I was awake."

"I don't remember that." That's the most disorienting part of it all, perhaps. He doesn't remember falling asleep, only being tired and then being in the warp core again. And then it was just... one memory after another. Until now.

But apparently that was later?

His body is slow to get the idea that he's safe now, that all the horrible experiences in his past are still in his past, half expecting to be plunged back into the nightmare at any moment. But he forces himself to relax his defensive posture, struggling to act as normal as possible, for his own sanity rather than to soothe his ego or anything. "It just... wouldn't stop."

Hunter gently guides Jim to the couch, so he can sit down if he wants. He is very concerned to hear that the flashbacks kept affecting Jim.

"It doesn't sound like that potion was any help..."

Sitting down is good. And now that he has more physical sensations to help anchor him in the here and now - the couch underneath his legs, Hunter's hand on his back - he's able to calm down a little.

"It wasn't... it wasn't all eight hours. I don't think." He's genuinely uncertain how long it lasted, but it doesn't seem like it was the entire time. "You said fifteen minutes?"

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