Chapter Text
Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.
Sydney J. Harris
James Tiberius Kirk had learned that he would never regret missing out on life again. After being brought back from Bones’ serum courtesy of Kahn’s miracle blood he knew he had been living a life half lived. He had thought in his youthful arrogance that he was invincible, he had plenty of time, things were not always important, priorities could be put off, and things left unsaid were indeed better left unsaid. How wrong he thought he was when the last breath left his lungs. The painful void of nothingness and then the cocoon of safety he had been encased in immediately afterwards had been shocking. Being a man of the 23rd century he had thought that perhaps there was nothing after one passed. He had mused that perhaps since energy was always transferable; never created nor destroyed that perhaps his life energy would wind up part of the great cosmos but he had never imagined to have a soul.
James Tiberius Kirk had never imagined the pain of dying could be so intense. He imagined that it had something to do with the radiation burning his insides and having to leave his crew. Yes, and leaving Spock. As his last moments ticked by, oddly too fast and too slow at the same time, he was satisfied he had let Spock know of the great importance of their friendship. Kirk loved Spock so much, had hoped for more time, for Uhura to fade out of the picture, for the lifetime he had seen in elder Spock’s mind meld. As he had laid there on the engineering floor dying he knew his luck had run out and it just wasn’t so but at least he was leaving knowing Spock was safe, Spock knew some of how much Kirk cherished him (even if he thought it was platonic), knew Uhura was waiting just off Spock’s shoulder in the background to be his anchor (at least he had someone to love him even if it could not be Jim), and his crew was safe.
For a while Kirk knew nothing after those final moments. It took some time to reconcile all that pain from those last few moments and all that had been his life. To compile all that had made up James T. Kirk, son of the great George Kirk of the Kelvin, worthless son of Wionna (whom could not bother to come home to her two sons in the effort to forget her husband whom had given his life so that she could have hers and raise his two sons), brother of Sam Kirk (Sam who lit out just as soon as he could, despite Jim begging him not to leave him with Frank), step-son to Frank and all around punching bag, juvenile delinquent of Riverside well known for finding the only cliff to jump a car, malnourished child survivor/leader of a pack of nine children on Tarsus IV (killer, seducer of guards, thief, and all around watcher of atrocities), the off the charts IQ/repeat offender cadet, womanizer, best friend of Bones, and finally bonafide swagger and grin Captain of the Starship Enterprise (complete with medals and savior of Earth/Federation/Star Fleet all tacked on according tot he media). After all this it came to Jim’s notice he was in a warmth, a solidness, a place of infinite-ness. It felt so safe, like nothing, like something— all at the same time. It was the most odd and wonderful feeling. But, just as soon as this occurred to him and he was adjusting to such contentment he was ripped from what he might have called heaven.
That was disturbing to say the least. His time ripped from the wonder of what might or might not have been a nirvana was a new agony in and of itself. For there was no rest. There was an awareness like no other. Jim found himself in a space facing himself.
“You do not belong here,” said a version of himself.
“You… you are me and I am you apparently…” Jim said back totally disregarding the statement at hand because he was not going to get into an argument with himself. That would be the pinnacle of insane.
His alter self snorted, “Duh, but you need to hurry up and get better. Only one katra can be here at a time.”
“Katra… that is a Vulcan word.”
“Well, yes, yes, it is. I prefer to use that word since I am waiting for the other half of my soul. My soulmate. Spock is still alive but he will be along soon. I have learned to watch past the dimensions over the decades. While I cannot tell you a whole lot, what I can and will tell you is what I know you know.”
Jim thought his alter self was really redundant. Perhaps he was just having a really bad dream. Or maybe he was in hell. How did one get better from dying!?!
“I know… I sound stupid. Listen. I died in my timeline. The timeline the elder Spock in your timeline is from. I am waiting for him. You died too soon in your timeline. Bones is now working on a way to bring you back. Resurrect you, so to speak. He has injected you with the cure he believes will work but it only will if you make contact with your body. Your vessel. It cannot survive long without your katra or soul on its own.”
“Wait, so you are waiting for Selek, or the Spock that did the mind meld on me on Delta Vega? You were mated? I was right about that? I thought I picked up on that but Spock the elder would never confirm it for fear the timeline would be contaminated.”
“Yes, we are t’hy’la. I must wait for Spock to join me. What happens for you and your own Spock is up to you and him. You still have many years yet but it may not be the same for you both as it is for me and my Spock. T’hy’la is extremely rare. I theorize your Spock has more desire for Uhura because maybe his katra differs because there is a version of his katra still alive so maybe they exist in different frequencies. My katra has passed to a different dimension so your katra is at the right frequency to match Spock elder but not younger. Or maybe Spock younger is just as stubborn as my Spock once was. That is all I am going to say on that, because I don’t know and the time is growing late James. You must return…”
Just then Jim noticed the space had been getting dimmer. He felt a tugging also on his being. He nodded an acknowledgment to his alter self and closed his eyes. He felt really tired of staying in this dimension and just decided to let the tug pull him away.
The next thing he knew he was in his physical body. He could not open his eyes. He could hear distant voices but he could not make out anything that was being said. He could smell the recycled sterilized air of what must be a medbay. Everything felt so dead. His whole body. He could not open his eyes, could not speak, could not adjust his person on the bed. He essentially had come back to lay stagnant in what appeared to be a dead body!