Title: Control, Jim, Control
Author: Istannor
Series: TOS
Part: 1/1
Rating: [PG13]
Codes:
Summary: This is the time between the first and second five
year voyages. This continues  the story of Kirk's
disintegration.

Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and
Viacom, they own them. I only check 'em out from the
library. I
promise to bring 'em back.


Control, Jim, Control



"Get away from me, " Kirk told the man who sat beside him at
the bar. He had tried to strike up a conversation, a prelude
to seduction. There was enough danger in Kirk's voice to
make the man jump up and move away quickly.  "Damn." Kirk
knew the man had not been at fault.  He had no way of
knowing a famous Admiral would come into this out of away
bar to quietly get very, very drunk.  It was an auspicious
occasion and Kirk had every intention of marking it with
something spectacular.  He was going to get spectacularly
drunk, and only then was he going to pick someone to screw
for the rest of the night.  Had the guy had a little bit
more patience, he might have been the one.  Kirk planned on
getting drunk enough that nothing mattered, especially not
the sex of the person he took home.

The bar was on a dark street in the old section of San
Francisco.  It was very old and was well past its better
days. The walls were still made of wood and coated with
grime, emitting a faintly rancid smell.  There were old
fishing nets hanging from the ceiling and a giant rudder was
on the wall behind the main bar.  Shells and driftwood were
scattered around haphazardly, like objects left by a storm.
The bartender was almost as old as the place itself and had
the good sense to quietly continue to fill the glass while
Kirk pursued his goal with a single mindedness that was
frightening.

His mind wandered. Smells, and sounds wafted over him and
carried him away to alien worlds full of freshness,
adventure, and danger. A ghostly presence hovered at his
right shoulder and whispered to his soul. The remnant of the
link fluttered in the psychic landscape. Each whip of the
soul wind sent shudders through him. Nothing Sarek had done
two years ago on Vulcan had been able to stem the slow
oozing that continued from the wound in his mind. The link
with Sarek was still there. Sarek had formed it to save his
mind after dragging him home from the sands in front of Gol.
It didn't stop the pain completely; it was a Band-Aid, and
the wound needed to be cauterized. At least it kept him
mostly sane, mostly alive, mostly sober.

He had been a fool to trust Spock, or McCoy. He should have
remained alone, aloof. He should never have agreed to link
with Spock. He would not have to feel this pain, a constant
in his head, if he had denied the Vulcan his wish. He
chuckled to himself at that thought. He had never denied
Spock anything because Spock asked so little for himself.

It had been after an Orion cartel had decided to kidnap the
Federation Ambassador while Kirk was with him. Spock had
found them after their mad flight away from the kidnappers
into the underground caverns housing the homeless and
dispossessed of the world of Garifth. They had been filthy,
exhausted, and starving by the time Enterprise's redshirts
and Starfleet security found them.

"Jim," Spock stood in his doorway. He had just come out of
the shower for the second time that day. It seemed as if he
could not get clean, no matter how hard he washed. Visions
of the subterranean warrens filled with starving, deformed
people, too weak to run and too poor to win, overwhelmed
him. Voices had risen in supplication as they ran past,
Orions in pursuit. They begged him to save them, feed them,
or take pity on them. He had not been able to help. He had
not been able to pause and he had not made a difference for
any of them. He had leapt over dying children and run past
wailing voices of terror, dragging the terrified Ambassador
on a mad dash to safety.

Steam wafted from his still damp skin and a fine tremor was
trying to take over his hands. He clamped them to a chair to
keep them still. Spock came in and the door slid shut behind
him. "Jim, I must speak with you."

All he could do was shake his head and take a seat. His
mouth did not seem to be working now, either, and his legs
felt a little rubbery. Spock stared at him and hit the COM.
"You do not appear to be well. Dr. McCoy to the Captain's
quarters, with a med kit." Kirk wanted to protest, but the
words did not come out, dying on his lips.

"This is perhaps not the best time, but I must pursue this
now, while I still have my resolve. Jim, I wish to form a
link with you, so I may find you next time, no matter where
you are."  Spock stopped and took a seat in front of him. "I
could not find you," He whispered and then looked up
suddenly. "I worked as quickly as I could, but I could not
find you, or sense you, and that is unacceptable. A Vulcan
may form links with family members and their closest
confidants. This allows us to aid each other in times of
need." Spock's fingers opened and closed rhythmically on the
top of the table. Kirk found himself staring at the hand
and marveling at its elegance. It was so hard to think and
he did not know why. "I  do not expect an answer now, but I
would like you to think about it. It would be a logical
choice for us both and it would not infringe on your
privacy, or mine."

He remembered trying to answer Spock. He wanted to tell
Spock yes, but giant shudders started to run through his
body, and he could not control them. He heard McCoy shouting
and strong hands grabbed him, picked him up, and took him to
his bunk. He remembered McCoy's anxious blue eyes looking at
him. Bones' voice saying words like reaction, shock, and
damn fool idiot filtered through his hearing. A cool hiss
went into his arm to send him deeper into the darkness. His
first words after the tremors had stopped and before he
lapsed into unconsciousness were, "Tell Spock... yes."

It was hours later, and many drinks later when he finally
looked up from where his thoughts had taken him. He found he
was now the only patron still in the bar.  "So much for
getting screwed," he mumbled to himself and staggered out of
the bar into the street.

Somehow, he made it to his own neighborhood.  A taxi let him
out in front of his building and he stood fumbling in his
pocket for a credit disk.  Someone took his hand. "Let me,
Admiral Kirk."  He turned and saw a face in a Starfleet
medical uniform. She was vaguely familiar, but he honestly
couldn't remember her name.

"I know you," he mumbled.

"Yes, we met on your ship over two years ago.  I have been
waiting for you for some time.  The doorman said you had
gone out and I decided to wait in the lobby."  She reached
over and paid for the taxi, who sped away into the night.
"I'll help you upstairs."

"Caron, your name is Dr. Caron Jass."

"Yes, Admiral Kirk. I'm glad you remembered me."

"Thank you, but I don't need your help.  I can get to my own
apartment by myself.  I don't need anyone's help."  He
straightened up and tried to pull his shirt into place, but
his hand missed the bottom hem. He had to fumble a minute to
grab it securely and tugged it into place with an audible
snap. He stumbled away from her and reached for a light post
to keep himself on his feet.  The earth seemed to sway
beneath him and for moment he thought he was going to
blackout. The moment passed and he straightened up and began
to walk towards the door of his building. "Control, Jim,
control," he murmured to himself.

"Please, Admiral.  I've been waiting here for you for quite
some time." Dr. Jass walked up behind him and grabbed his
shoulder gently. She could feel a slight tremor as he
reacted to her touch.

He turned around angrily and looked at her. "Why? Did you
want to see how far I've fallen?"

"No, I came to help you."

"Leave me alone. I don't need your help. I don't need
anyone's help anymore.  I'm fine just as I am, alone."  He
took yet another step towards the door and suddenly it
seemed to recede from him faster than he could move towards
it and he slumped slowly, inexorably to the ground.

He awoke in his own bed.  It was morning and he could smell
coffee and bread cooking.  His head throbbed and his stomach
felt like someone had scraped it raw.  He wanted to throw up
but he never did when he got this bad.  He turned and
fumbled in his drawer for a sober up and tried to remember
who he had brought home with him the previous night.
Someone tapped on the door, and it swung slowly in.

"Good morning, Admiral."  A figure from his past walked in
confidently and sat on his bedside.

"Excuse me if I sound like an idiot, Dr. Jass, but what the
hell are you doing here?"

"I brought you upstairs last night with the help of the
doormen. You were pretty out of it.  I'm the who got you
undressed and into bed, so we really don't have any secrets
from each other anymore, Admiral, so you can call me Caron
and I'll call you Jim."  She smiled to emphasize the last
words.

He ducked his head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry.  I didn't
intend for anyone to see me like that.  I certainly wasn't
expecting to see you again." He looked around his room once,
as if he was checking for more surprises.  "I have to go to
the head, so unless you want to see my all in all, turn
around so I can get up and put on a robe."  She did as he
asked and he got up quickly and went to the fresher.

She heard  the water running and the sound of him trying to
get himself together.  She knew most of the battle was going
to be him trying to figure out whether or not they had made
love the previous night.  It wasn't that she hadn't thought
of it, it was only that he had not been able... and she
admitted begrudgingly, it would have been unprofessional.
But, she had treated herself to the full view and it had
been exquisite. She was incredulous that Lori Ciani had
given him up; the man looked better than any man she had
ever personally had.

She looked around the room with a  sense of disbelief.  She
still couldn't believe she had actually come to see
him. She had been asked to come to check out the rumors
going around Starfleet.  Scuttlebutt had it that Kirk was
finally going crazy.  His wife's leaving him had been the
last straw, or so the story went.  She had gone and talked
to Admiral Ciani and learned some even more disturbing
things. After her talk with Lori, she suspected the last
straw had happened 2 years ago, when Spock and McCoy left
and Nogura took the Enterprise away.  The man she had seen
fall down to the curb the previous night, was not the man
she had seen on the Enterprise.

Nogura had personally told her he had not been able to force
the issue earlier because Kirk's work was leagues ahead of
anyone else's, even if he was crazy. But, lately, his
drinking had gotten out of hand and reports drifted back
to Nogura forcing him to investigate. In the meantime, Kirk
always had two or three Special Ops shadowing him on his
nights out with instructions to do whatever it took to keep
him out of trouble. Sober, Kirk always spotted them, drunk
he didn't care. It was Kirk's lack of concern that made Nogura
decide to move off the wall where he had been sitting,
waiting for Kirk to snap out of it. The next rumor made
Nogura act.

Someone had leaked the fact that Admiral Ciani had been seen
sneaking into Starfleet Command in her nightgown, with a
phaser checked out in Kirk's name, and had locked it in an
ordinance locker under her code, not his. Nogura had met
with Admiral Ciani and then he had called Jass in. Nogura
had told her, make Kirk accept treatment as an outpatient,
or hospitalize him. Kirk was a danger to the Federation and
to himself in his present condition and Nogura wanted the
threat dealt with by whatever means necessary.

She looked up quickly as he came out of the fresher in a
robe, still wet from the shower. He smelled of allspice and
Rigellian forests. She barely resisted taking in a deep
breath. He crossed over to his closet and pulled out a T-
shirt and a pair of jeans, which he quickly put on. She had
to work to show no sign of interest in his actions.

"Well, let's see if that coffee taste as good as it smells."
He tried to sound confident as he left for the kitchen.

She followed him into the kitchen, and he pulled down 2 mugs
and poured them each a cup of coffee.  He sat and watched
her silently.  "Okay, I give.  What happened last night?"

"You were drunk; you passed out; I brought you up to your
apartment, nothing else.  Is that what you wanted to know?"

"That will do for starters.  The next question I have is:
why are you here?"

"McCoy specifically asked for me because Nogura called him
and told them he was worried about you.  McCoy told me he
thinks you are trying to kill yourself and while he is too
stubborn to come himself, he loves you too much to have left
you to your own devices, especially yesterday. He also said
he was afraid you wouldn't open the door for him anymore. "

"He's an idiot. I never sent him away." He looked away
briefly. "What did he tell you about yesterday?" His face
took on a guarded expression.

"Yesterday was a special anniversary for you. He didn't tell
me which one it was, but I have an idea."

Kirk ran his hand briefly through his hair.  "So."

"So... you passed out last night.  I suspect you have been
doing something like this for some time."

"So what if I have?"  Caron couldn't tear herself away from
the bleak expression in Kirk's eyes.

"Is that how you want to be remembered, Admiral?"

"Who the fuck cares?"

For one brief moment, she wanted to grab him to her and rock
him gently in her arms, but she held back. The next few
minutes were crucial and she could not misstep. "I do, for
one.  McCoy does, your crew does, Lori does, Nogura does,
and Spock does."

"Yeah, sure.  If you say so.  That's why McCoy is here, Lori
is over there, and Spock is sitting right  next to you .
Fuck them all."  He got up and stalked out of the kitchen.
"I'm not hurting anybody." He threw back at her.  "I do my
job; I come home and get drunk.  I haven't killed anyone,
raped anyone, or betrayed anyone."

He stood and stared out of the giant picture window at the
San Francisco skyline. "Like they betrayed you." Caron
responded softly to his rigid back.

He turned to her and grabbed her shoulders. "No," he
shouted. "They didn't betray me.  I drove them away; it was
all my fault." He let her go. "You don't understand at all.
They couldn't stand to be near me anymore, so they left
while the going was still good.  It's okay."  He turned and
stared back out of the window.  "It's okay, I understand."

"Jim, I talked to Lori. I know about the sleeplessness, the
nightmares, the drinking, and the phaser. Unless you talk to
me, we're going to have to hospitalize you for depression
and substance abuse.  You are killing yourself and daring us
to notice you doing it.  This cannot go on.  I'm a trained
psychotherapist. I'm someone you know, and perhaps you trust
me a little.  That's going to have to be enough because
you're going to have to talk to me."

He leaned forward and slumped against the window.  She left
him there and went to sit on the couch behind them.  She
knew it would take him a while to accept what she had said.

"What would you do if I refuse?" He whispered.

"I will put you in a Starfleet hospital and begin to treat
you with, or without, your permission.  Nogura has stated
that if you become too unstable, you will be a risk to
Starfleet and to the Federation.  He thinks you are very
dangerous.  I don't believe you are dangerous to anyone
but yourself right now, but if I can't get you to talk, my
opinion will not matter a damn. By the way, everything you
say is completely confidential. Nogura only wants results."

The room filled with silence as he digested her
proclamation. "What the hell?" He shrugged indifferently.
"What do you want to know?"

"I'll ask you a different question.  What do you want to
tell me? "

He barked out a laugh. It held no humor at all.  "Do you
want to know why I was drunk last night?"  He turned and
looked at her and she nodded.  "Last night was Spock's
birthday.  I was celebrating his birthday.  I have gotten
roaring drunk the last three years to celebrate his
birthday.  Happy frigging birthday, Spock."  He yelled out
the greeting.  "Oh, I forgot, he can't hear me, can he?"
She didn't answer.

He became lost in his silences for a long minute, but she
waited. This had to go at his speed. "Last month I
celebrated the death of the only woman I truly loved and the
death of my brother and his wife. This month I celebrated
the birth of the only man I ever completely trusted. It has
been 2 great fucking months and the celebration isn't over
yet.  Next month, I can celebrate the anniversaries of the
days McCoy and Spock left me, and the day Nogura took my
ship. Tomorrow, it will be 6 weeks since my wife left me.
Look at that, I'll be able to celebrate something every
month for as long as I live."  He held his arms wide in a
mockery of happiness.

Suddenly, he turned to her and she had to fight to not
flinch. "You want to know what I want to tell you?  I want
to tell you I'm so very, very tired of my life.  I want to
tell you I have nothing left to give to Starfleet and I'm
no longer a danger to the Federation.  In fact, I'm no
longer a danger to anyone, because if I had any balls I
would've killed myself 2 years ago.  So, I'm too stupid and
stubborn to die and I will just keep going on until I fade
away."

His voice dropped to the barest of whispers, like he had
used the last of his energy. "Go back and tell Nogura:
Starfleet is safe. My command training is still going strong
and in case of capture,I will be an obedient little soldier
and kill myself, before I betray the Federation. So,I'm not
planning on becoming a raving lunatic anytime soon and
everyone can relax. I met Garth, and I'm not him."

It was time. She crossed over to him, pulled him towards
her, and hugged him with all the strength she possessed.
She could feel the tremors running through his body.  He was
so very close to his breaking point.  "What did you use to
do to celebrate Spock's birthday before he left?" She asked
him quietly and he moaned. She held him tighter. "Talk to
me."

"Do you want to hear a story?" He whispered.

"Very much so."

"Do you know the first birthday present I ever gave Spock?"

"No, tell me."

"It was the first year we served together, after he
became my First Officer.  We'd begun to get closer
to each other...started playing a lot of chess together and
talking.  I looked up his birthday in his Starfleet records
and found out his birthday was only four days after my
birthday, even though he is older than me.  It took me a
month, but I finally found the perfect present.  He plays a
Vulcan Lyre, so I knew he loved music, even music he really
didn't feel.  I found out we'd be going to a planet that
was having a musical festival at the same time the
Enterprise would make orbit." He stopped and she hugged him
again to hold his mind to the story and her presence.

His voice floated back. "The main act is still famous
throughout the Federation:  Sweet Sounds of Joy.  The
tickets were sold out to all the performances, but there is
some advantage to being a Starship Captain." The sarcasm was
unmistakable. "They tripped over their heels to give me 2
tickets.  I invited him into my cabin, we drank a toast
to his birthday, and I gave him the tickets.  I told him to
take whoever he wanted to the concert."

"I was terrified I had done the wrong thing because he
didn't say anything for a long time.  Then, he looked at me
and told me he would like to invite me.  Next, he told me
this was the first time  since he had lived with his mother
and father that anyone had ever remembered his birthday.
That was all he said.  He never even said thank you, but I
can never remember feeling more appreciated than I did at
that particular moment.  I remember thinking I would make
sure each and every one of his birthdays was special.  I
can't do that anymore with him, so I'll do it for him.  Do
you understand?"

"Yes, I understand." She walked them back over to the couch
and they sat down together. She pulled his limp body
towards her and gently began to stroke his hair. "I will be
back here every day until I'm sure about you. I will not
leave you alone, so you better get used to the idea of
seeing my face. You have to keep yourself together until
you get back to where you belong."

"I don't belong anywhere, anymore," he whispered.

"You are wrong, and if you wait long enough you'll be able
to admit that."  She reached down into a pocket and pulled
out a case.  She withdrew a hypo one-handed, and injected
him with its contents.

"What's that?" He jerked back anxiously.

"An antidepressant and a mild sedative. You're going to get
some sleep now and I will be here when you wake up."

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"That's why I didn't give you a choice.  Go to sleep, Baby."

He chuckled softly between yawns. "Do you always call
Starfleet Admirals, Baby, Caron?"

"Only the ones who need it.  Jim, sleep, and tomorrow we
will talk about why you have to take responsibility for the
actions of your friends.  They need to grow also.  You're
probably not the only force that drove them away. They had
to deal with their own issues and seek their own answers.
They did not necessarily abandon you; maybe they acted to
save themselves.  Now you must decide whether or not you
will allow their absence to destroy you."  She waited for an
answer and when she heard no reply, she looked down and
realized he was already asleep.

Later that evening she sat and watched the star-filled sky.
Kirk was asleep on the same couch where she had given him
his hypo.  She turned and felt an inner ache as his face
revealed, even asleep, his lack of inner peace. She
suspected alcohol had been his sleeping draught for quite
some time. Sleep was something he obviously still needed
desperately. The next few days to weeks were going to be
difficult on them both, but she turned and looked at the
exhausted man stretched out on the couch. He was worth it,
she acknowledged. Her gaze returned to the stars and
thoughts of lost loves, lost lives, lost friends, and
a Starship Captain's wounded soul.

"Happy belated birthday, Spock, where ever you are." She
whispered. "You better bring your behind back here before
it's too late. I will try my best to keep him going until
you return.

And you, Leonard H. McCoy, I am going to beat your butt for
running away from this man. He did not deserve what you did
to him. You better grow up, Doctor, or you will never
forgive yourself for what happens to him without you there
to save him."

The End