3. Burying the Hatchet - A First Step
Sep. 16th, 2020 06:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smartass_captainNothing can ever just be easy, can it?
Felix's foolhardy attempts at secrecy to fix his own mistakes marked only the beginning of the storm that followed. He's recovering well. Thank every one of Felix's gods for that. Jim has spent more nights lying awake tormented by nightmares and what-ifs than he'd like to admit in the days since. Felix probably knows. Jim hasn't exactly been hiding the shadows underneath his eyes nor the amount of caffeine he's started consuming to get through his shifts. Work that is ramping up again on top of old friends calling at the worst time to ask for his help--taking him away from the ship for days at a time.
Somehow Jim manages to keep up. He's stretched thin but he's doing his best to keep the promises he's made to Felix after the Winter Storm. Even if it's under the guise of tending to Felix's own injuries, Jim makes time to eat and to at least attempt sleep curled up with his husband.
Jim's honestly trying.
It's long hours and travel and uncomfortable evenings sometimes of neither he nor Felix knowing what to say but Jim's sticking it out. He cares too much to let things slip back to the way they were after Rielle the first time. He promised he wouldn't run away again.
No matter how tempting it might be. The crew know there's something eating at their captain. Jim's always hated feeling as though he was being coddled or treated delicately. Lieutenant Norn has asked over Felix's well being once or twice but Jim fears he's intimidated the other as that's all but dried up. Hendorff's caught him in the cafeteria and offered to help Jim brush up on his hand to hand. He's learned a lot in the last year and a half from Isidor Durant--enough not to completely make a fool of himself. Jim throws himself into it and just gives in to the outlet for all the pent-up frustration, fear, and anxiety he's been holding on to. Every swing a tear he's held off from shedding, an unkind word he's wanted to speak, a quiet admission that Jim is not as okay as he tells himself.
It's enough to wear him out so the nightmares can't reach him as easily. So he's too tired to be upset.
None of it prepares him for the incoming message waiting for him on his personal device after Jim trudges back to his quarters for the evening after training session. Felix is down in sickbay getting his bandages changed. It's Tiber who chirps in alarm when Jim knocks his mug of coffee off the desk before climbing up to headbutt Jim and make sure his bonded is alright. It's a message from one Commodore Kirk.
Congratulations are in order, I hear. Your brother didn't say anything either, so I suppose I can only be so upset with you.
Your nephew sent a card I've made a holo of attached.
Please call. You've missed a lot.
Love,
Mom
Felix's foolhardy attempts at secrecy to fix his own mistakes marked only the beginning of the storm that followed. He's recovering well. Thank every one of Felix's gods for that. Jim has spent more nights lying awake tormented by nightmares and what-ifs than he'd like to admit in the days since. Felix probably knows. Jim hasn't exactly been hiding the shadows underneath his eyes nor the amount of caffeine he's started consuming to get through his shifts. Work that is ramping up again on top of old friends calling at the worst time to ask for his help--taking him away from the ship for days at a time.
Somehow Jim manages to keep up. He's stretched thin but he's doing his best to keep the promises he's made to Felix after the Winter Storm. Even if it's under the guise of tending to Felix's own injuries, Jim makes time to eat and to at least attempt sleep curled up with his husband.
Jim's honestly trying.
It's long hours and travel and uncomfortable evenings sometimes of neither he nor Felix knowing what to say but Jim's sticking it out. He cares too much to let things slip back to the way they were after Rielle the first time. He promised he wouldn't run away again.
No matter how tempting it might be. The crew know there's something eating at their captain. Jim's always hated feeling as though he was being coddled or treated delicately. Lieutenant Norn has asked over Felix's well being once or twice but Jim fears he's intimidated the other as that's all but dried up. Hendorff's caught him in the cafeteria and offered to help Jim brush up on his hand to hand. He's learned a lot in the last year and a half from Isidor Durant--enough not to completely make a fool of himself. Jim throws himself into it and just gives in to the outlet for all the pent-up frustration, fear, and anxiety he's been holding on to. Every swing a tear he's held off from shedding, an unkind word he's wanted to speak, a quiet admission that Jim is not as okay as he tells himself.
It's enough to wear him out so the nightmares can't reach him as easily. So he's too tired to be upset.
None of it prepares him for the incoming message waiting for him on his personal device after Jim trudges back to his quarters for the evening after training session. Felix is down in sickbay getting his bandages changed. It's Tiber who chirps in alarm when Jim knocks his mug of coffee off the desk before climbing up to headbutt Jim and make sure his bonded is alright. It's a message from one Commodore Kirk.
Congratulations are in order, I hear. Your brother didn't say anything either, so I suppose I can only be so upset with you.
Your nephew sent a card I've made a holo of attached.
Please call. You've missed a lot.
Love,
Mom
no subject
Date: 2020-10-04 11:20 pm (UTC)"We're here for you." It's not like before. Jim is no longer a lost and lonely child. He has his own family. His own close-knit friends and crew ready to have his back.
This time, Felix swears, it's going to be okay.