Chapter Text
Jim was exhausted. Weary of the cold weather, he was ready for a break from San Francisco’s chilly streets...
He sneezed loudly, the sound echoing across the silent lecture hall. None of the students paused their frantic typing to look up at him. First years, he thought with a faint grin. He remembered only too well the determination to come top of the class.
...Not that he’d let anybody else know that. He’d cultivated his farm boy persona very well, if only to revel in the looks of outright disbelief as his name sat at the top of the class rankings…
Another sneeze burst through the good memories. Jim managed to stifle the groan before it could properly escape him. In his time teaching at the Academy, he'd caught every bug, virus, cough and cold going. Those, Bones informed him, were the joys of rebooting his immune system. If a cadet so much as sneezed in Jim's presence, he caught a cold. He'd spent the past four months battling various minor illnesses while teaching during the week and checking up on the Enterprise at the weekends, not to mention his bi-weekly PT sessions, the lesson plans he had to create, the assignments he had to mark and his part in the on-going investigation into Section Thirty-One. He'd worn himself to the bone. Two weeks in the cabin out in Mojave, in the sunshine, would do him some good.
He just had to make it through this final. He had faith the cadets from his tactics class would all pass, but he wasn't so sure he'd manage to stay awake for the exam’s duration if he didn't pace around under the pretence of ensuring no one was cheating or freaking out. Water bottle in hand, he paced the length and breadth of the hall. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep at the desk. He unzipped his jacket and swigged his cool water as he walked around, doing his best to look professional rather than run ragged. Why was it so hot in here?
Time crawled by, but eventually the computer called time and the PADDs delivered the papers to his, ready for grading.
"Enjoy your break," he called as the cadets trooped out, sticking a smile on his face as best he could. "See you next semester."
He had the hall to himself within seconds. Nothing like freedom to motivate the cadets. Jim dropped the act and silently admitted he felt like overripe shit. His throat burned, his nose had surely caved in and his chest felt stuffed to the top. Jim sat at his desk and wondered how the hell he would grade all the papers before next weekend's deadline when he was very obviously coming down with something.
He rested his forehead on the desk's cool surface. He'd wanted to head to the cabin tonight, but maybe spending the rest of day in bed would be a better idea. He could always go tomorrow...
"Jim?"
He jerked upright. He'd actually fallen asleep at his desk. Hotness rushed to his cheeks. He was a wreck...
A cool hand rested on his forehead. Jim blinked blurry eyes clear and saw Bones at the other end of it. "You're burning up," he said.
"It's just another cold," Jim said, slowly sitting up. He swallowed hard, wincing at the jagged pain in his throat. “Sorry, I was meant to meet you, wasn’t I?”
“Forget it.” Bones patted Jim's shoulder. "I'm sorry there's nothing else I can do. You've just gotta ride out the small stuff and be glad all the other vaccines are doing their job."
"I know, I know, no Andorian shingles for me."
"Or worse," Bones added ominously.
"Yeah, yeah," Jim groaned and got to his feet. He nearly lost his balance in the same moment, but Bones grabbed him and returned him to the chair. "Thanks." Eyes closed, Jim clung on, waiting for his equilibrium to restore itself.
"This seems more like the flu than a cold," Bones said.
Jim’s brain shuddered inside his skull. He opened his eyes and turned to his best friend. "It's not the flu. It’s been a long semester, that's all."
"So much for celebratory drinks. Let's get you home. Feel ready to walk?"
"Sure." Jim accepted Bones' helping hand and waited for another wave of dizziness to pass. "I hate this."
"I know you do." Bones threw an arm around Jim's shoulders. "Remember the time you caught pneumonia in our first year?"
Jim remembered it too well, especially the bit when he'd concluded his final exam by passing out in front of everyone. He'd spent most of break in bed, coughing up all kinds of nastiness and too feverish to properly concentrate on keeping up with reading assignments or preparation for the next semester.
"Let's take care of this before you get that sick, okay?" Bones said. "A few hypos and a decent night's sleep and you'll be good to go. You’re heading to Mojave, right?"
“Right. Sun, deserts and not a scrap of fog in sight.”
Jim grabbed his coat and PADD and allowed himself to be taken away. However, when they reached the door, Bones released Jim. His friend knew him well, Jim reflected, as he put the infallible captain mask back in place and nodded politely to the cadets still gathered outside the lecture hall. Sometimes he marvelled at how young some of them looked, and every time he had the thought, he wondered what Chris Pike would've said to him. Laughed in his face and said something about coming full circle, probably. That, or offered him a drink.
Did a day go by when he didn't miss that man?
"You make a good teacher, Jim," Bones said as they stepped out into the chilly wintry day. It felt like a cooling balm over Jim's overheated skin at first, but he was shivering within moments. "Those kids really look up to you."
"Who'd've thought it?" Jim muttered. "Barnett still looks like he's expecting it to blow up in his face."
"That's only because he's impressed you turned out to be such a great instructor," Bones said. "Guess that's your retirement plan all figured out."
"Shut up! I'm only twenty-six!"
"Twenty-seven soon, kid."
Heading to the local ground transport stop, Jim barely restrained a sigh of relief as the bus appeared moments later. His apartment block was just two stops away. He never used the bus, but today was a necessary exception. By the time he got home, he only had the energy to take the elevator and plod to his door. Bones talked about meds and rest and soup, his voice barely more than a Southern buzz flittering through Jim’s mind. Entering his access code, Jim crossed the threshold of his apartment and went straight into his bedroom.
He sat down, flopped onto his side and closed his eyes. A congested but relieved sigh escaped him. He was in bed at last.
"Get some sleep, Jim. I'm gonna get some supplies for you."
Jim managed a single grunt before falling asleep. He awoke to darkness and the sound of someone poking around outside his room. Disorientated, it took his muddled mind a few moments to sort out what had happened (sick, Bones, home, bed, sleep...). Still wearing his coat and boots, Jim stumbled to his feet and wandered out to the main living area. "Bones?" he called hoarsely, rubbing his gritty eyes and yawning. A harsh cough broke out of his irritated lungs. Shit, he was a mess. "Bones, is that you?"
Something smashed. Jim startled, a sudden rush of adrenaline slamming into his heart. It wasn't Bones...
Someone grabbed Jim from behind, a foot slamming into his knees. He collapsed, arms wrapping around him. Jim tried to fight his way free, but whoever held him pinned him to the ground and sat on him.
"Get a damn move on!" The woman's voice was unfamiliar. Her strength was unreal. "We need to get out of here!" She held Jim tightly, easily fending off his struggles. "Stay still, you bastard!"
A man appeared. Jim could barely make out his features in the dimness. "Shit. He wasn't meant to be here. Someone messed up."
"Obviously, but what do we do?"
Jim kicked out, catching a shin. The man grunted, swore, and responded by sending his foot slamming into Jim's stomach.
"Dammit, hold him!" the man shouted.
"I am. Do something!"
"I am!" The man yanked something out of his pocket and crossed to Jim's side. Coughing heavily, lungs refusing to fill properly as the pain in his stomach radiated outward, Jim tried to break free, but the woman's grip remained unbreakable.
She wrenched Jim's head to the side and he caught a glimpse of long blond hair. "Is that enough to keep him down?" she asked the man.
Panic settled heavily in Jim’s gut. Enough of what?
A sinister chuckle sounded out. "He won't be a problem."
Jim dragged in enough breath to talk. "What the hell are you -"
A hypo jabbed his neck. Jim cried out, the startling sharpness hurting before numbness stole his body from him. His limbs lost their strength. His vision fizzled, but whatever they'd injected him with acted slowly. The pair's features faded in and out of focus. They were human, he was certain. They rooted through his belongings, looking for something but obviously not finding it. He watched through failing eyes. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, struggled to draw breath...
"It's not here!" The woman spat. "We need to go."
"Five more minutes," the man replied.
"Not a chance. We've already fucked this up and he was obviously expecting someone."
Something smashed as the man angrily tossed it aside. "Fine. We better hope the others had more luck, otherwise –"
They kept talking, but the words faded into nothingness. Vision tunnelling, Jim's eyes rolled back as he passed out.