Kirk, after being revived with Khan’s blood, turns rather evil. (M for sexual content and brief coarse language)
When Jim was in the warp core, hearts stopped. Hearts reached into the darkness that was becoming his home as the last lights of his life were fading. Hands jutted out to pull his crumbling soul away from darkness, but it was inevitable. Jim was gone.
When Bones was trying to save Jim, he felt up his arm and into the inner corner in search of a vein. His skin was so soft, Bones noted. White as could be. White was a colour that portrayed purity, he remembered. He’d read that somewhere, he thought as he pushed the needle into the vein and pressed onto the syringe.
When Spock found Jim lying awake in the hospital bed, relief washed over him- but only for so long. Spock greeted Jim in the best way that he could, giving him a small smile and a gentle touch on the shoulder.
“My friend,” Seemed to be the only words he could find. He felt Jim twitch under his hand, he saw the look in his eye, something with him wasn’t right. He wasn’t that starry-eyed boy he’d been before.
When Uhura saw Jim back on the bridge, she felt warm. It felt like a mother’s pride when they saw their child first learn something new, like walking or riding a bike. It felt like she picked up trust again and installed the new fragment into her heart. She watched the way he looked out across the crew, how he solemnly stared into distant space. His eyes didn’t twinkle when they looked at the stars, they only clouded. Jim hollered at Chekov, scaring the small boy as he stared at the screen in front of him and tried to process his command. Chekov stuttered, Jim cursed at him. Uhura put the trust piece back where she found it, on the floor, while Jim stormed out of the bridge.
When you found Jim in your quarters, standing with his back to you and looming over the window, you spoke to him. He shifted, turned slightly, watched you like a hawk. He was tall compared to you, his arms folded across his broad chest nearly in your face. His eyes held something new, you noted, his brow arched almost in detest that you’d spoken to him. You cleared your throat, saying his name again. It sounded shakier this time, you asked it aloud in question, “Jim?”
He smirked and turned towards the window again before flipping a switch that enabled the blinds. This time he faced you, watching you like a hungry lion watched the gazelle flick over the grass. You asked if he should have been at work, and he continued to stare. Your throat felt dry, like your words would come out and sound like you’d swallowed broken glass. Jim crept towards you, anxiety setting in so you could only hear the scuff of his shoe against the carpet. You said his name again weakly, as a cry for help. A hand reaching into the darkness.
When Bones heard you sobbing from a cot in the medbay, he was there immediately. He wrote down your symptoms on a clipboard, the visible ones. You cried out to him, telling him there were no physical symptoms of your own, that you were just scared. You were so stressed you were vomiting, you wouldn’t sleep, you couldn’t keep anything down. Bones asked what troubled you, and you broke down, crying out Jim’s name. You repeated it, the name feeling almost foreign on your tongue. It felt like it brushed all your tastebuds back, making you shake. Bones asked what was wrong with him, and you could only ask what wasn’t.
“That’s not my Jim,” you sobbed.
When Scotty really thought about it, he’d figured out what happened to Jim. He knew that the plan had been, he’d talked to Bones. About the probabilities, about the effectiveness of the whole thing. It had worked, just like Bones had said, but he doubted the use of Khan’s blood in the sample injected into Jim. “Evil don’t run through yer veins,” He had argued.
When Jim’s hand wrapped around your throat, you knew that evil was coursing through his veins. You choked out his name, his hips pressing yours into the wall. Your face was flushed and you were panting, you wanted him- but this wasn’t him. This man in Jim’s skin was rough, demanding, and cruel. His hand crashed onto your thigh, his fingers grasping your jaw and tilting your head up to kiss you roughly, his hips rolling into yours. A moan escaped your lips, your delicate fingers trying to fight back, but not hard enough. You didn’t want to fight, not for this. You succumbed to this skin-walker, letting the familiar touch of calloused palms run across your skin, take off your clothes. You gave yourself to him, just like old times. A match thrown into the dark.
When Chekov heard that you and Jim had split, he asked you for days on end if you were okay. You always said you were fine, and he always made sure you were fine- with flowers. With little notes that reminded you that you were going to be okay. With silly, childish gifts that could make you smile for just a moment. With things that would get your mind off of wanting Jim to come back to you.
When you mentioned you might go on a date with someone Chekov introduced you to, Uhura encouraged it, as well as Chekov and Scotty. Sulu didn’t seem to have an opinion, and Bones advised against it. He said you knew how Jim was now, and he’d probably kill the guy if he found out. You believed him.
When Jim launched the guy you were planning on dating back to Earth via the teleporter, he didn’t feel bad. Not even a little bit. It didn’t take much to enlist Chekov’s help to send him through, considering he was terrified of the captain. It took a few threats and Chekov was on it, sweat dripping onto the screen while he programmed coordinates and calculated speed. Chekov prayed that you wouldn’t find out.
When you found out, you had grabbed Jim by the collar of his shirt. You remember it even know, his lifeless doll eyes reminding you of a shark’s. The small smirk on his face made you furious, making you scream louder. You asked why he couldn’t be happy for you, you asked why he couldn’t let you go. Evil coursed through his veins, but so did you.
When you swore it was your last night with Jim, you kissed his neck. You kissed his lips with passion, hoping to hold him closer to you. His teeth grazed your skin, his fingers gripped your thighs and crashed down onto your thigh. His hands kneaded your breasts, you moaned and pulled his hair. You sucked him off, and he curled his fingers to find your g-spot again and again. You let him pound you into the mattress, you rode his cock until he just about cried. Emotions and tensions ran rampant in the room. You made him say your name, you made him admit that he loved you. You made him say it again and again until he finally screamed it at you. A final torch thrown into the dark.
When you held Jim while he cried into your chest and tried to just fucking sleep, your heart ached. He ached, too, because he was scared. He was confused. He was taken over by something he didn’t know, something he couldn’t control. The torch you’d thrown had sparked something in him, he became self-aware. He knew something was manifesting his body, that he wasn’t the same, and he crumbled.
When Bones had seen that you’d sparked something in him, he only thought about fairytales. True love’s first kiss seemed to always be what ripped someone’s fabric of reality. Maybe it even sewed it back together, but Bones just watched Jim work in silence. Bones thought, and Bones knew, that he was slowly being saved.
When Uhura noticed how Jim started to talk about you again, she knew he was coming back. Maybe Bones had made an anecdote, she thought. She didn’t really mind that he was telling her the same stories about you, she was just glad that Jim’s sparkle came back to his eyes.
It wasn’t until Jim sat down on the bridge that you all noticed something new about him. Maybe it wasn’t his sparkling clean uniform or just his presence, maybe it was the sparkle in his eye.
Maybe it was the huge grin he sported.
Maybe it was just him, the boy with a warm, golden heart.
Maybe it was someone recovering from bad blood.