Chapter Text
There was nothing like the start of a new mission. The stars looked fresh and enticing, and there was a quiet excitement among the crew that made almost Chris feel twenty again – like this was his first ever mission, his first posting as Captain. It wasn’t of course, and on the eve of turning fifty, Chris couldn’t deny that he felt it. He was happy and healthy, and ready for any damn challenge that faced him. But he also wanted a quiet evening home with his husband and a bottle of white wine. That was the difference, now. Once, his career had been his life. Now, he loved his career, but he loved his family more. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t still love space. Even now, when he’d spent more than half his life doing exactly this, he sat in the Captain’s chair and felt wonder. He looked out through the viewfinder at infinite possibility. And then he turned to his Tactical Officer, and saw the exact same thing.
Jim Kirk looked more grown up, stood at his console and working diligently, than he’d ever looked in all the time Chris had known him. He’d matured out of the reckless, defensive young man the minute he’d been taken out of Riverside, and thinking about it made Chris’ heart swell with pride. Jim had been a dedicated student, and a joy in his life. In his and Phil’s lives. Together. A proper family. And Spock, too, of course. His Science Officer, who looked blank faced at everyone but Jim. Chris was also quite proud of Spock, if he really thought about it, though in a different way. In a way that still enabled him to want to break the Vulcan’s fingers whenever he accidentally put Jim into a strop. Though that wasn’t to say that Chris didn’t regularly want to hurt Jim too, when Jim was too sensitive or overreacted, or did something stupid like get drunk with the other new crew members and try to go on a spacewalk. Fortunately for Jim, as senior ranking officer Commander Scott had taken the brunt of Chris’ anger on that one. Unfortunately for Jim, Phil had lectured his arse off when he’d sobered up – and Chris had definitely not struggled not to laugh as he’d watched. But really, as Captain he couldn’t afford to show favour – and while Jim had definitely matured, he probably hadn’t lost that reckless streak as much as Chris wished he had.
It was lucky for them all that the Enterprise had such a strong crew, looking out for each other and Jim included. He was still young and still… fragile, in a way Chris felt terrified of forgetting. Especially now that Jim wasn’t just in the room next door. Technically. He had his own quarters, two whole corridors away. So when he actually slept there, it felt like a great deal of distance. That of course didn’t accommodate for the fact that Spock’s quarters were across the corridor, and Jim spent most of his time there. With Number One next door and Lieutenant Uhura bounding around with Lieutenant Vro all the time, it was like they hadn’t left earth at all. It was familiar and welcome, and Chris felt his old soul soothed daily as he worked with his make-shift family.
“Captain.”
Chris looked up, and Number One was at his side.
“The end of Alpha is approaching, Sir. Lieutenant Commander Scotty requested ten minutes of your time in Engineering.”
Number One was sort of like a nanny crossed with a personal assistant, crossed with the most efficient, scary and genius First Officer in all of Starfleet. Despite all her professionalism in the view of their crew, Chris couldn’t help but grin at her. “If you insist, Number One. The conn is yours.”
One gave him a look which Chris suspected meant ‘I have photos of you sleeping, cuddling your husband like a baby and dribbling’, and Chris heard it loud and clear, vacating his chair and winking at Kirk before heading into the lift. One was too good for him, really. It wouldn’t be long until she got her own ship, and Chris would be a friend and officer down. What on earth he’d do then, Chris didn’t yet know. He was just glad that she’d turned down the offers she’d received thus far to set Chris up on this, his last five year mission. He had this idea though, of retiring in San Francisco with Philip and being visited by their family for years to come. One and Jimmy, Spock, Leonard and whoever else coming to see them on weekends and Chris cooking for them all.
He shook himself mentally as he exited the lift and made his way into engineering. He was a month, if that, into his mission. It wasn’t right to be fantasizing about retirement already. There was so much opportunity to take first.
Chris found Scotty sort of upside down in a Jefferies tube.
“Lieutenant Commander Scott, if you happen to fall and hurt yourself because you’re not strapped in to the correct safety equipment, I sure as hell won’t be the one delivering you to Doctor Boyce.” Chris lied, in a practiced voice of steel.
“Aye, Captain.” Scotty replied with a smile in his voice, twisting in some acrobatic feat that Chris’s eyes couldn’t keep up with, until he was vertical and stood in the corridor. “Understood. It was just a little tweak, you know me.” Chris did, and he was genuinely worried about the influence that Scott was having on Jim. And Gaila. Really, Jim and Gaila were bad enough as it was. They didn’t need an older, better at drinking, insane genius with a penchant for disregarding rules to lead them further astray.
Chris was horrified at the idea, and perhaps more horrified that he was becoming one of those dad’s. Jim was in his mid-twenties. It was barbaric.
“Don’t you have junior officers for little tweaks, Scotty?”
“Well a man can’t always help himself, Captain.” Scotty grinned, wiping oil down his trousers. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about Kirk.”
“Oh god. What did he do?” And when Scotty opened his mouth, Chris threw his hand up in protest. “If you caught him and Spock, I don’t want to know! If it’s drugs or booze, he’s Phil’s problem.”
“No- no, nothing like that, Captain.” And Chris could breathe again. “No, I wanted to see if I could borrow him in Engineering for a few days when we’re next stationed still somewhere. He and Gaila submitted a few changes that could reduce the transferral time between Warp and Impulse.”
“He couldn’t have done this before we left Earth?” Chris asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Not really, Sir. Hadn’t tested out the engines yet, you see.” Scotty replied, factually. “There’s no rush, but I just thought I should let you know. Those two are an unstoppable force.”
“That’s true enough. Alright, Scotty, I’ll bear it in mind. Finishing duty now?”
“Aye, Sir. Just a few more tweaks and then I’m off to the mess for games night with the engineering lot and a bottle of fine scotch.”
“Enjoy.” Chris clapped him on the back and departed, thoughts busy with the wonder that was Jim Kirk.
Chris leaned seductively against the doorway of Phil’s office. “Do you have time to see me, Doctor?” He asked, jutting out his hip a little so his command gold inched off his hip slightly.
“I think I can make a few minutes for the Captain, yes.” Phil replied, pushing his files away and gesturing for Chris to join him. “Hello gorgeous.” He said, leaning up so Chris could kiss him across the desk. “Everything alright?”
“Good. Apparently Jimmy wants to dismantle my ship already. Scotty is possibly the worst or best role model for Jim in existence. One got two transfer requests from Command in the last fortnight alone, and-“
“And?” Phil prompted.
“And I haven’t seen you in like three days.”
Their hands interlocked over the desk. “I hate it as much as you do, babe, but blame Admiral Komack for bringing the flu on-board in stupid, hyper-masculine final sweep of the ship before we left.” Phil was nothing if not detesting of earth illnesses on his spaceship. Working at Starfleet Medical was one thing, but Phil was a damn good Doctor and researcher. He liked new and interesting, not preventable flu. “Speaking of, you’ll never guess who fainted in my arms today like a Southern belle.”
Chris grinned. “No way.”
“Yes way. Stubborn boy. He’s in his quarters now. Or Jim’s. I don’t know. Either way, he’s no use to me and insufferable to everyone else. Thank god for Nurse Chapel and M’Benga, too. They’re the reason that you and I get to walk out of this place right now and have a quiet dinner in.”
“Really?” Chris felt close to crying. He reigned it in, for gossip’s sake.
“Would I lie about dinner? It’s just a shame you won’t be cooking. I think I could take some replicated nachos and a movie, though.” Phil said, standing and pulling Chris up along with him. “C’mon, gorgeous. I’ll even let you pick the film.”
And how could Chris turn that down. He’d always imagined that after so many years, he’d stop loving Phil so profoundly. He thought he’d lose that tug in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach he felt when Phil held his hand, but it had never happened. The prospect of curling up beside him to some crappy film – because honestly, Phil would end up choosing – was thrilling to him. That, like the stars, presented infinite opportunities. Maybe Jim would drop in, perhaps literally like their first week out when he’d fallen through a panel and rolled out into their bedroom. Anyway, the point was they’d hang out and eat food and one of them would get sleepy – typically Jim or Chris first, and then Phil would drag them all to bed one by one. It was easy and happy, and Chris was coming to the startling realisation that, actually, he didn’t much care if he was on Earth working a desk job or on the ship. Not that he didn’t love the Enterprise. It was just, on a list from husband to son to friends-cum-family, the Enterprise ranked beneath everything.
“Now, as for everything else you’re worried about.” Phil grinned, swinging their hands together as they made the journey back to their quarters. “Jim loves this ship too much to not put it back together again, and he’s too clever to not improve it in the long run. Scotty may or may not be a good role model for Jim, but he calls us his parents, so don’t go fretting over the other middle-aged men on this ship.” Chris scoffed, as if he hadn’t been worried about that at all, even though he definitely had. Phil continued, nonetheless. “And One just committed to a Five Year Mission with you, darling. She’s not about to abandon you now, I promise.”
“Yeah. I know you’re right.” Chris sighed, resisting the urge to kiss his husband until they were privately behind closed doors. “I just… I don’t know. We’ve been waiting three years to get this ship out into space, and now that we’re here I can’t stop overthinking.”
“And I’m sure turning fifty has absolutely nothing to do with this.” Phil teased. “What is it, gorgeous? Do you want me to distract you, or do you want me to use logic and reason to calm you down and soothe you to sleep?”
“I liked the movie and nachos idea.” Chris said, definitely not pouting. There were too many good things to focus on, and Phil had known him long enough to recognise that this wasn’t anything serious. He was just going through a weird transitional period from Academy Head to Captain again. It was nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t solve. Provided that sleep lasted the entirety of his fiftieth birthday, so he could wake up and pretend it had never happened at all.
“Then it’s a date, Mister Pike.” Phil smiled, and pressed for access to their quarters.
Chris woke to a presence in the room, and though instinct told him to grab his phaser or communicator or Phil, common sense told him not to even bother. To just hold on to those precious moments of sleep for as long as possible, before the madness started all over again. Then, instantly after, the bed compressed at his side and a finger prodded into his cheek.
“Chris.” Jim whispered. “Dad, wake up.”
“Jim, son, you better be dying.” And as soon as he’d said it, Chris instantly regretted it. How sad that he couldn’t even joke about it, because in actuality the prospect of Jim getting so much as a cold terrified Chris. His eyes snapped open, and Jim was right there in front of his face.
“No such luck. Happy Birthday, dad.” He said softly, and Chris blinked for his vision to accommodate the birthday card and cake being presented to him. At his side, Phil was already sat up in bed drinking coffee and scrolling down his PADD for the morning news.
“Thank you, Jim.” Chris managed, pushing himself into a sitting position and accepting the card Jim gave him like an eager five year old. Chris would have made a comment about wasting paper if Jim weren’t so precious. The card was sweet, anyway – a picture of the Enterprise with candles sticking out of it. It looked like something that Gaila might draw, but there was only one name signed off inside. Jim’s, with a number of aggrandizing adjectives in his favour.
“You’re welcome. Eat your cake.” Jim smiled, handing the plate over. “We’re all having a real birthday breakfast in the mess in half an hour. Scotty is covering the bridge for you at the start of Alpha until you get there.”
“Breakfast, eh?” Chris confirmed, nudging his husband with his elbow. It was partly out of surprise that Phil had once again successfully avoided reminding Chris of his own birthday all over again, but otherwise because that meant he was free of obligations that evening for dinner.
“Ugh, get your mind out of the gutter Captain Dad.” Jim groaned, clambering up from their bed and checking his hair in their mirror. “You can have Phil all to yourself tonight, I’m sure.”
Chris laughed through cake, and Phil lowered his PADD to scold Jim. “Need I remind you, Lieutenant Kirk, about Valentine’s Day?”
Chris’ laughter was only exacerbated by that, much to Jim’s horror. Really, it was funny though. Spock had gone to extreme lengths to impress his bondmate after a tiff, and Jim had been completely oblivious to all the measures put in place for him. The entire crew had spent the day betting on at what point Spock would give up. It was one of those tragically funny things for both Spock, who was trying so hard to follow human procedure that it was endearing, and Jim, who’d become increasingly frustrated that his workday kept getting interrupted by cards and flowers and balloons.
“No, that’s fine.”
“I thought so.” Phil smiled, sweetly. “Go on, Kiddo. We’ll see you at half-past.”
“Aye, Sir.” Jim beamed, and it was a smile that Chris never got sick of seeing. It had been three and a half years since that anxious, battered kid had swaggered into Chris’ office at the Academy, all false pride and blazing determination. Now, he was happy and confident, generally better in health and eating habits, and meeting each challenge that space travel through at him with maturity and unique insight.
When Jim had departed, smiling absently at something Spock was probably thinking, Chris allowed himself to slump against his husband’s chest and peek up at his lit-PADD screen.
“You shouldn’t tease him about that Valentine’s day. He felt terrible.”
“So he should.” Phil snorted. “They’re literally in each other’s minds, how could he not realise?”
“It’s a good job we have M’Benga on board, darling. One of you Doctors needs to understand Vulcans.” Chris replied, without missing a beat. “Now, do I really have to wait all day to see you, or can you put that PADD down and spare me a moment of your precious, precious time?”
“Gorgeous,” Phil said, then, in mock-horror, as though Chris didn’t have a leg to stand on in his claims. Really, Phil had this uncanny ability to wrap Chris around his little finger. Between his husband and Jimmy Kirk, Chris was beyond hope. “What’s mine is yours.” Phil said then, dropped his PADD onto his bedside cabinet and winking ludicrously. “And right now, what’s ours is twenty-five minutes.”
“Minus five to get dressed.”
“You’ve saved civilisations in twenty minutes before.” Phil pointed out. “I’ve saved lives. I think we can think of something less taxing to do in the next twenty.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Breakfast was a wild affair. Chris had entered the Mess to raucous applause, led unrepentantly by Jim. There was confetti and a banner, as well as officers he couldn’t have spent more than five meetings with since departing earth, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Once the cheering had stopped. They sat with Spock and Jim, Uhura who’d just got off the night shift, and Number One who was working more than eating but always willing to chime in with a sarcastic comment or two when one of them said something stupid. It was reminiscent of their last night on earth, at their apartment on Campus. Those collections of rooms had been their home, and the addition of Jim – and Leonard and Spock, with him – had made there three years together there a period in Chris’ life he could never forget. But this was his first birthday on the mission, and it was rather interesting. The presents were terrible, but anything beat the space-hopper Jim had bought him in his second year, and proceeded to bounce down the stairs of their building on while incredibly drunk. The absolute idiot.
Breakfast was pancakes, and Jim ate three, and then he was tag-teamed by Phil and Spock to eat a pot of fruit-salad and a pot of yoghurt, respectively. Not that Chris was paying attention.
“Bones is sorry he can’t be here.” Jim said, licking his spoon clean. “But when I left him, he was chucking his guts up into the toilet.”
“Christ, is he okay?”
“Oh yeah, he’s fine.” Jim shrugged. “I didn’t stick around. I hate seeing – anyway, it was nasty. But he told me not to worry.” As if that was enough to actually comfort any of them. For a Doctor, Leonard was terrible at accepting help. Or, as he called it, defeat. Then again, Phil was probably just as bad at admitting he was poorly – if significantly better at demanding help when he’d finally accepted he was sick as a dog.
“He’s fine, Chris, don’t worry.” Phil assured him, pouring him more coffee. “I checked on him yesterday afternoon, M’Benga was there this morning. It’s that damn flu. I thought I had it completely isolated, but Len must have caught it in sickbay at some point.”
“Okay. As long as this doesn’t take out half my crew. We’re too busy for that.”
“Aye, Captain.” Phil teased, kissing his cheek. “Relax, you’re doing fine.” He added, quietly, when Jim and Spock were distracted by attempting to stop Uhura from falling asleep in her syrup covered pancakes. For one thing, she’d murder them if she got Syrup in her hair. As for Number One, well, it didn’t matter if she heard. She was at least an adult. Though she liked to threaten and tease, she was also infinitely more capable of not being an insensitive git than the others were. “You were grounded for a while, but you didn’t forget how to be a good Captain.”
“Yeah- I know.” Chris sighed. “But as ever, that boy remains an anomaly in my life.”
“Well that anomaly loves you no matter if you’re reprimanding him for getting cadets drunk, or reprimanding him for abandoning his station in search of something more interesting to do. Honestly, Chris, you’re your own worst enemy. Just relax.”
“Yes, dear.” Chris said absently, as Jim looked up at him.
“Hey, did you get my request to work with Gaila on that wrecked runabout in my downtime? We’ve got big plans, and we’re going to co-author a paper on the work we do.”
“It needs to go through Scotty first, Jim. I’m sure I’ll have it by this evening. Not that you’re allowed to badger me about it tonight. You hear me?”
“Message received!” Jim grinned. “We have plans anyway, don’t we Spock?”
“God, I don’t want to know.” Chris groaned.
“Jim is going to assist me in an experiment concerning replicating the creation of eddy currents from Dilithium crystals in various alternative environments.” Spock explained, and the Vulcan looked and sounded inexplicably sort of eager at the prospect. Maybe eager was too strong. Keen, definitely. Maybe Chris was getting old, but even as a young man he couldn’t imagine his idea of a fun date being running an experiment together. Phil’s were all medical, anyway, and Chris was better at the whole diplomatic side of being a Captain than the, well, chemical, engines bit.
“Thrilling.” Philip deadpanned. “And what are you not going to do?”
Jim pouted. “Ignore safety procedures, stop following the method Spock laid out, or in any way attempt to distract my bondmate when arranging potentially dangerous chemicals and currents together.”
“He’s finally getting it.” One chimed in from her PADD, shooting Jim a condescending smile which he just countered with those damn, insufferable baby blues. “It really must be your birthday, Chris.”
“Don’t remind me.” Chris shook his head. “Enough teasing ladies and gentlemen. And Spock.” Spock blinked, and Jim got that look on his face like he was mentally explaining something to his bondmate. “We have a ship to look after.” He drained his coffee cup as the others began to pack away their breakfasts – something, incidentally, they’d never done in their apartment on earth. Being Captain on his ship at least seemed to have some impact on their ability to follow orders.
Chris checked his PADD quickly, savouring his last moments with Phil until that evening, and immediately pulled up his most recent message from Lieutenant Hawkins, the communications officer on Alpha Shift. He felt like the blood was draining from his face. It was that very real, dizzying sort of sensation one got that accompanied utter dread and shock.
“Babe?” Phil asked, squeezing Chris’ leg beneath the table. “Christopher, what is it?”
“We’ve received a transmission from the Valiant. They’re requesting some engineering support so they can make it to the nearest Starbase for long term repairs. We’re going to have to rendezvous at their location as soon as possible.” Chris stood, obnoxiously leaving his own plate and pacing towards the door, too frustrated to keep still anymore.
“Chris…” Phil followed him, as he always did, taking his hand in some attempt to soothe him. It was ineffective, but appreciated nonetheless.
“I know.” Chris pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to fight the start of a brutal headache that he could already feel coming. Jim was at the replicator grabbing an apple, laughing at something Spock had said.
“Three years. She didn’t get in touch again.” Phil could be unforgiving when it came to Jim, and Chris felt the same, right to the core of him. He wanted to be bitter and angry more than anything. But he had to be a Starfleet Captain first.
“I know.” He repeated. “But we’re the only ship in range and she – her ship – needs help.”
“It’s Jim I care about.”
“So we’re all in agreement that this sucks? Wonderful, thank you, Philip.” And then he let out a long sigh, and deflated entirely. “Sorry.” He muttered. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him in my ready room before lunch. We’ll work something out. But one way or another, today we’re going to meet Commander Kirk in person.”
“Joy.” Phil said, bleakly. “Happy Birthday, darling.”