Chapter Text
He wasn’t even sure why he was writing the letter.
None of it would probably matter anyway. No matter what the stranger told him.
Q he’d called himself. Whatever that meant and whatever he was.
Jim had never lived a charmed life. His dad had been killed on the very day he was born and it went downhill from there. Oh there were good things. On occasion.
His friends. They’d been important.
Bones.
Chekov.
Sulu.
Uhura.
Scotty.
Even Keenser if it came to that.
And Spock.
Only Spock wasn’t. Not anymore. He wasn’t anyone’s friend. Or anything ever again.
Which was why Jim was writing this letter. A God damn handwritten letter no less.
To himself. And the Jim he was then? He would probably not listen. Just like Spock from then probably wouldn’t either.
T’hy’la.
He’d only recently learned what it meant. But…it had been too late. Too late for him. Too late for Spock. For them.
Spock had died in his arms.
Jim was lost.
The chime on his door rang and for a moment Jim decided he would ignore it. Then he remembered. He couldn’t afford to ignore friends.
“Come.”
Somehow he had expected it to be Nyota. He didn’t know why. But there she was. She had changed out of her uniform. She wore pajama shorts and a top that had seen better days. She carried a bottle of what looked like red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“I hope that stuff is strong,” Jim said as she walked over to his desk to set down the glasses. She poured deep, dark red wine in both.
“Oh, it’s strong. Made by my own family in Africa.”
Jim took the glass she offered him. “Will it make me numb?”
“No,” she said softly. “I’ve tried.”
“Pull up a seat, Lieu—Nyota. Sorry, I forgot.”
She gave him a gentle smile, pulling up a chair. “I even forget sometimes.” Her gaze went to the paper and pen on his desk. “Are you going to do it?”
“Think I should?”
“If it means changing the outcome? Absolutely. If we can have Spock alive again…hell, I’d do anything. I loved him.” She took a sip of her wine.
“I know you did.”
“My romantic love for Spock was over but there is so much more to love than that, isn’t there?” Her mouth twisted. “You loved him. Not just as a potential partner but as your friend. Your family.”
Jim nodded, unable to get the words out.
“But if writing those letters will destroy you? Then I say no, don’t do it.”
“I’m already destroyed, Ny. I don’t think I’m capable of hurting more than I do now.” Jim took a large swallow of wine. “Nothing has ever hurt this much.”
“Then do it.” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Write the letters.”
“What if it doesn’t matter?”
“Then nothing will change. And the outcome remains the same.”
“But it could change. Writing all these letters could change more than just this. Q said so himself. It could change the past completely until—” Jim licked his lips. “What if it saves Spock but causes someone else’s death?”
“I don’t have all the answers, Jim. Only this Q does. And yes, he’d playing with your life. Spock’s life. Everyone’s lives. But Spock was your t’hy’la and he never told you until it was too late.”
Jim closed his eyes. Pon Farr. He cursed the very words. The very concept. It robbed him of Spock. He hadn’t known. And there had been so many others.
“If I have Spock…I’ll lose my son,” Jim whispered. “It will be as if he never existed. Can I do that?”
“I wish I could be so unselfish as to tell you not to write them. To just keep going as you are. As we are. What’s done is done. Spock is dead and we all must move on.” Nyota bowed her head, her hair streaming in front of her, her wine glass raised to almost her lips. “But I want him back as much as you. I want my ndugu.”
Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and picked up the pen. His chest felt like it was on fire.
****
“Hey!”
“You got a reason to be yelling, kid?”
“Name’s Jim, remember?’ Jim Kirk slung his bag onto his new bunk. Damn it was tiny. He wasn’t convinced his legs wouldn’t dangle down off the edge. And how was he supposed to get it on with anyone in such a tiny bed. He picked up the plain white envelop that simply read Jim. ”You leave this for me?”
His roomie, Leonard McCoy, or so he’d learned on the transport there, scrunched up his face. “I got here same time as you.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Family member?”
Jim snorted at that. “Hardly. I have no family. None to speak of or speak to anyway. What do you say we get out of here and go get a drink?”
“We just got here.”
Jim grinned. “I know. And it’s already boring! Let’s get some action.”
Leonard McCoy rolled his eyes. “All right. But I’ve got a few rules.”
Jim pulled on his leather jacket. “Yeah? Like what?”
“No messes! I’m a doctor not a housekeeper.”
Jim laughed. “I’m neat. Ish. Neatish.”
Leonard eyed the envelope. “Aren’t you going to read that?”
He scooped it up. “I’ll read it over a drink. Something tells me I’ll need it.” He slapped Leonard on the shoulder. “Come on…Bones.”
Fortunately the bar was only a block and a half from their new dorm room. They’d managed to get the same room when they’d arrived by simply requesting it. But that still made Jim wonder how someone knew to leave him an envelope.
“What’ll it be, cutie?” The very buxom barmaid asked.
“Hefeweizen.”
“You?” She winked at Bones.
“Bourbon neat.”
Jim looked around. “This place could be cool.” He slipped the envelope out of his pocket. Inside was a letter. Handwritten.
Weird. And, um, the writing was kind of familiar.
Jim
If you’re reading this then Pike convinced you to enlist in Starfleet. Must be your first day. I can’t and won’t tell you who I am or how I know anything about you. But suffice it to say, I do. Listen, I know this is going to sound weird and you have no reason to trust me, but there’s this professor at the academy. He’s named Spock and he’s Vulcan. You need to meet him. ASAP. Take his class. Go to his office. Whatever. But make it happen and fast. Use that Kirk charm on him and make him your friend. Right away. Trust me. Well. If you can. And don’t tell anyone about the contents of this letter. Um. I don’t think you’re supposed to. There are rules, I guess.
Me? You can just think of me as CK.
Jim read the letter twice more and it was just as fucking weird the second and third times. He frowned, folded it, and stuck it back in the envelope, shoving it pack into the inside pocket of his leather coat.
“Well?” Bones prompted. “What’s it say?”
“Oh.” Jim shrugged. “Just an advertisement for a place where you can get your cadet uniforms cleaned.”
“Useful anyway,” Bones replied.
The barmaid returned with their drinks.
“Say, Bones?”
“Hmm?”
“You heard of a Professor Spock?”
Bones picked up his bourbon, raising his brows. “Should I have?”
“I guess he’s Vulcan and teaches at the Academy.”
“Never heard of him. But if he’s Vulcan? No doubt he’s a pain in the ass.”
Jim smiled. “Probably.” He picked up his beer and clanked Bones’ glass. “To beating the Kobayashi Maru in one try!”
Bones chuckled. “You wish. Cheers!”