tampered | The purpose is to experience fear. Fear in the face of certain death.

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The purpose is to experience fear. Fear in the face of certain death.

When: 17th onward!
Rating: Gross sickly stuff.
Characters: Jim & you!
Summary: Catch-all log for Jim's friends! After the 16th when he felt ill, Jim's Augmented blood has started to fight back like it did during the two weeks he was out cold after dying in a decontamination chamber. His organs will be starting to slowly fail, blood (both his own and Khan's) will be coming up, and he's generally confined to his bedroom in his and Bones' apartment. As time goes on, his condition will be deteriorating until his essence rite is performed. Please put the date of your visit in the subject header! Forward/Back-dating and Prose/Action are all fine, as are video/audio/text which can be directed here for all personal calls while Jim is sick.
Log:

[ He finds himself thinking of Christopher, more than anything. Of the last time he saw him, specifically, in the Hall of the Missing. Of not being able to let go of him for so long and crying like a son lost in the thickest of woods, longing to find his way home only to briefly find it and have to turn back into the darkness once more. Chris had held him, kissed his hair like a father, soothed Jim in a way he had never had to before, but then again neither of them had died and been torn apart in such violent ways until the Augment came into their lives. Even in death, he's still been there when Jim needed him.

He stares out of the window in his room, propped up against pillows as coughs rumble in the pit of his chest, looking at the City below where the horizon meets a fake, beautiful sky. If he lets the migraines take over for long enough his senses go haywire and a drowsy kind of tactile memory swims under his fingers and into his nose, of an admiral's uniform scented with aftershave that soothes his anxieties almost as effectively as the real thing.

"It's going to be okay, son."

He wishes he could find a bar to drown his sorrows in. Chris always, always found him when he was at his lowest point in backwater dives.

And then on occasion, during his more painful moments where there's no one around to hear his muffled crying into a pillow or witness the sheets crumpling in his fists, his thoughts drift to the decontamination chamber. Jim wakes himself up several times after passing out with Spock's name on bloodied lips and hopes to God he hasn't started doing anything as embarrassing as crying out in his sleep to betray his fright; he has the use of his lungs still, unlike his final moments where he hadn't been able to tell his friend a wealth of things that suddenly seemed so important. Look after the crew, you're the captain now. I'll miss you. I don't want to go, stay with me. It's shameful, but a couple of times he calls for Bones just to have his company, terrified under a firmly schooled expression that he'll die in the here and now, well and truly alone.

If he had been given diagrammatics on his condition in the form of a vessel's specifics, he would have written it off by now. It's as if the effects of his descent into the warp core are being clawed out of his body in slow motion by the deepening fever-tide, leaving Jim to hate every minute of having survived. Which is counter-productive, he knows, because he very much wants to live. ]

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Yeah, Jim Kirk. [ Offering a hand, he takes a sideways step to let her in. ] Come inside and I'll ... find my pants.

[Oh, please don't. Don't ever find pants. Angela would gladly say this but she's celibate. She has to take a deep breath and remind herself that she has to remain celibate. For a while. A long while. A long dry while. So when she accepts his hand for a shake, excuse her for holding onto it a bit too long.]

Angela Montenegro. [Standing by the door, she holds out the slippers to Jim.] These are yours. He let me borrow them. I hope that wasn't a problem.

That could never be a problem, Ms. Montenegro. I think you just solved a mystery. [ A firm handshake it is, and his thumb runs over the back of her fingers before he lets go with a gesture to the kitchen. ] Make yourself at home and I'll be right back.

Been busy much today?

Angela. Call me Angela. Ms. Montenegro is way too formal. [Oh dear. You stop that, you blue-eyed bastard.] Not really. Still settling in. Again.

[The kitchen can wait. Angela needs to see this man walk away.]

'Jim', then. [ What, these life-ruining blue eyes? Whoops. Heading into his bedroom, Jim leaves the door ajar so he can call back to her through the lounge-come-kitchenette as he gets dressed. ] You've been here before? I heard me and Bones were, but neither of us remember it. My other friend, too.

[Dirty move. How is Angela supposed to keep herself to herself if those eyes are just being flung all over the place?]

Yeah. I actually was here for about four years? Give or take a few months, but I got to go home once during then. Then I left. And then I came back. And left again. And now I'm back. Again. [Hear how excited she is about that. Truly.] ...Who's Bones?

[She finds a counter to place the bag on and begins nosing around in the kitchen. He did say make herself at home.]

That sounds like a wild ride. Hope it doesn't happen to me, I threw up in the fountain when I got here and I'd rather not do it again.

[ He reappears in jeans and a t-shirt, bare-foot since his slippers have been tossed into the ether that is his bedroom; the door remains open behind him, ceiling painted black and dotted in multi-colored star-charts.

He hitches up a smile as he joins her to peek at the groceries. ]

Bones is Leonard, it's an old nickname I picked up for him when we first met. Force of habit now.

You're not the only one to throw up in that thing. That water is nasty.

[Don't go stealing the change from it, kids.]

Bones? My best friend is also called Bones. Not by me, but only one person. Still though... [She has a point, somewhere here. God, she misses Brennan. Anyway, she points at the bag.] I didn't know how to pay him back so I bought some groceries. Nothing fancy, just the basics. Everybody can use milk and bread.

What's that about birds of a feather? [ Huh, coincidence. She bought them food anyway, Angela can stay. ] Can I offer you a coffee? Tea? Something stronger?

Who? Her and him? Well, she's a doctor too, but a PhD. Is he awkward in social situations with no tact and a workaholic? Extremely logical to a fault and can't relate to anything that can't be proven by science and lab testing?

[Angela describes Brennan in the most loving voice as only she can. With a genuine smile too.]

Define 'stronger'.

It's like you're describing Bones himself. Scotch work for you?

Well, then I'm friends with the female alternate dimension version of him. Would you look at that?

[Laughing and hopping up on a counter, kicking her shoes off to get more comfortable.]

Scotch always works.

You sound like you're friends with the lovechild of Bones and Spock, if we're getting really technical. Latter's more logical, Bones prefers common sense.

[ Nodding to the acquiesce for booze, he wanders back into his bedroom to get a bottle from under his bed, uncapping it as he returns. He looks her over once again as she really makes herself at home, rooting out two tumblers. ]

Drink much?

Oh, Spock. I met him. The guy with the ears. [Angela brings her fingers to her own ears and wiggles them, emphasizing her point.] All of you from the same world?

[She sees him watching and she waits for him to tell her to get down. He doesn't. She's staying.]

Sometimes I'm driven to it.

Driven to what now?

[ cue bones entering the apartment some time in the middle of her talk, shedding off the doctor's coat and throwing it over an armchair and looking over to where the familiar voice has come from.

well, this is a pleasant surprise. ]

Didn't expect to see you here, Angela.

Being a generous shopper and delivering food to the needy. You're home early.

[ Finding a third glass, he pours one for all of them and leans over the counter, facing them both with a hand curling around his drink. ]

Drinking! [She raises her glass in a toast, but doesn't drink it until they all have one. It's only polite.]

Hey you. I brought the slippers back. I didn't bring the pants because I wanted to wash them first. [How nice.] Also the food is a thank you, not a charity gift. Don't listen to him.

Either way, you shouldn't have.

[ he grabs his share with a grunt for a thank you, raising it. drinking! he's all for that. ]

Hospital's gotten rid off the extra graveyard shifts now that the place is back on track again. I'm still on call, but they let a few of us leave early. Good thing I did, or I would have missed you [ he points to angela ] making yourself really at home here.

[ Sipping, Bones' story gets most of his attention. the rest flickers over Angela's legs where they're draped over the edge of the counter, then back to the CMO when he finishes. ]

I told her she could. [ She gets a smile from where Jim's draped on his elbows. ] Am I allowed to see what's inside the bag yet?

Yet I did, so deal. And it's true. He did tell me to, so I did that too.

[She takes a sip while shaking her head, pulling the bag closer to her side. It's quite possibly a good thing she doesn't have her usual short skirted wardrobe here and is instead wearing a pair of plain jeans. Eyes back in your head, Jim.]

No, because I brought it for him. I brought you the slippers. Stop trying to bogard all the gifts.

Really, Jim. Where are your manners?

[ can you tell that bones is amused by all of this? because he is. he takes a peek at the bag angela's brought for him, and his lips quirk upward at the corners when he sees the contents. ]

Did you think that we were going to starve ourselves here or something?

[ he pulls out the lunch meat first. ]

Here. [ he puts it in front of Jim. ] If you want it, go and cook it. Just don't ruin the stove like you did the microwave.

[ if you think that bones is helping you score the girl, that's where you're wrong, buddy :) ]

[ It's so much fun starting to feel like a gooseberry. ]

Actually, I was wondering if there's anything vegan in there for Spock. [ No thank you to the meat today! ] I'm going to head over and hang out.

[ Check how he's adjusting. ]

No, but guys living together usually means a beer full of ketchup and beer.

[A raised eyebrow dares them to disagree, but it quickly changes into a confused expression.]

It's lunch meat. You don't cook lunch meat. [Forget about asking about Spock again. She's wondering about these weird people.]

You got the beer part right. Only it's less beer and more scotch and bourbon here.

[ he's about to reply to the lunch meat part when jim's answer sidetracks him, and his attention snaps at jim in an instant, minutely scowling. what are you doing? has he fucked up this much from a little slip up in their last conversation? no other reason even occurs to him. ]

Spock should be fine, Jim. He's a grown man and everything. [ he's got his girlfriend and things and he's Vulcan. ] There's bread here, though.

[ Similarly, Bones' answer sidelines Jim. I know he's a grown man, that has nothing to do with it. The look he gives him is quizzical at best and he slides over to the fridge to start poking through for vegetables. ]

He can be fine and we can still eat together, I'm sure he'll tell me to get lost if he wants to slope around on his own.

[ Angela's free to take notice of a relatively healthy fridge. It comes of Starfleet training, the kind that means you have to stay in shape to run all over your ship when psychopaths attack. Standard, really. ]

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