unconquerable | open post

He's just determined to constantly remind Diana of Steve, it seems. His words make her smile; she has no hope that this is anything more than pain medication making him loopy, so it's easy to smile at him and ignore the ache in her chest.

"I'm not. Just a cadet, for now." She's not dressed in red, just casual clothes - jeans and a leather jacket. "And no, you're not dead. You're alive."

At least someone with his eyes will still be around in this world.

"That's something, isn't it?" Jim settles back into his pillow nest and watches her, a small, secretive smile tugging on his lips.

"You snuck in." There was no way they'd let anyone know where his room was. For all the shit Starfleet put him through, they'd give him this. Especially when he wasn't awake. That they would give him. So she wasn't in here by conventional means.

And if she was going to kill him, she was wide open to do it whenever she choses.

She hadn't though. He was going to give humanity some faith. "I'm a little impressed."

"Perhaps." She doesn't confirm or deny the trouble she had to go through to find out where his room was or sneak in without alerting every nurse on the floor. She was still sure someone would come running soon enough.

"You're not the only one capable of hacking a computer system, Jim."

"You did." Why? Jim's mind is whirring away as he tries to place her. She's familiar in a way breathing is, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't know why he feels so goddamn safe with her sitting beside him like that's precisely how things ought to be.

He doesn't know why he hasn't called for security, or asked her to leave, or fuck just pressed her for a better reason for her to be there. Instead he says, "Touche."

"I wanted to see you." Diana can't read minds, but she knows what usually follows a comment like that. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

She shifts from the chair to the edge of his bed, reaching out to touch his hand. "How are you feeling?"

"You don't even know me."

He is almost positive he has never seen her in his life, familiarity aside. He refuses to believe he'd forget someone as attractive as she is.

Jim shuts his eyes for a moment, hoping it'd help, hoping it might clear the persistent ache in the base of his skull that grew the longer he studied her. "Like I could sleep for a week."

"Doesn't mean I can't care. You saved the planet, after all." This time, and with Nero. And someone who had his face, his eyes, had saved the day centuries before.

Of course, she's not supposed to know about those.

"Try and sleep. Your body needs it." She reaches out and clasps his hand, grips it in hers for a moment.

"A lot of people saved the planet." A lot of people lived through it. People on the ground. On his ship. People he had been responsible for and at the last minute sacrificed himself for because he finally remembered what he was about. "You're not in their rooms."

"I'm not sure I'm not sleeping now." His eyes slide closed as he listens to the steady hum of medical equipment, more reassuring of his continued survival than the woman beside him.

"Why do I know you?" he asks her even as his continued exhaustion tugs on his consciousness.

"They were all very brave. But they are not you." They don't look like the one man Diana still loves, the best example of the world of man. "Maybe I'll stop and see them. Later."

She laughs, the sound a little wet. She hadn't even realized she had tears in her eyes, but she can feel them, now.

"Maybe you are, and you only know me in your dreams." She reaches out again, presses her hand to his cheek. "May your dreams be sweet, Jim Kirk."

Jim stretches his arms high above his head, enjoying the feeling of sun burning across his skin as he bends and touches his toes. PT was a bitch, but one that could be done inside or out now that he'd been declared healthy enough to rejoin civilization. The rebuilding of Starfleet HQ was slow work, but he could see the buildings coming back together again. Most memorial services occurred while he was on bedrest, a fact that continued to frustrate him, as much as the brass wanting him to make some grand speech before he was allowed back out in space.

But people were living, moving forward, and for all that he, himself, had been officially dead not even a full month ago, he was glad to see it.

He straightened up and shaded his eyes as he took in the small clusters of cadets and officers moving around the remaining debris and bringing in new landscaping. If he hadn't been given a monitor, (Thanks for the trust, Bones.) he'd be over there helping.

Instead he took a step backward and bumped right into someone. He swore softly and spun around. "Sorry! Sorry, I-"

open post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

two weeks later~