universal_charm: (Blue Shock)
James Tiberius Kirk ([personal profile] universal_charm) wrote2015-04-18 01:17 am

Malcolm & Kirk - First Meeting

Falling. He was falling, had always been falling, would never stop falling, up, down, sideways, every direction at once. Time meant nothing, a construct for another time, another place. He stopped counting it long ago, stopped counting the seconds, the minutes, guessing the hours. Years passed in the blink of an eye, seconds stretched for eons. If he reached back just a little more, perhaps he could grasp the edges and drag himself out, force himself into the fabric of the world. Was he reaching? He couldn't tell, couldn't stop himself. Breathing and his own heartbeat were the only things he controlled, the only things to keep him company and fill the terrible silence that threatened to crush him.

Roaring. Somewhere, far away, roaring. Getting close. Barreling towards him, or was he careening towards it? Nothing in him left to fight it, he simply let the rumble draw him, prayed that the pressure on his chest would simply crush him.

Crash.

Pain arching across his back, his legs - breath stolen as he impacted something hard. A floor. He was on the floor. Sky above him - starry sky, if a few scattered pinpoints of light could be called starry. Shattered glass, pieces falling down like razor edged snow, tinkling against his helmet's face mask. He thought he groaned, the sound grating at his throat, the hot sting of tears forming in the corners of his eyes, spilling over as they closed, relief to heavy a weight to bear awake any longer.
saidyouweredead: (shadowed)

[personal profile] saidyouweredead 2015-04-25 09:45 am (UTC)(link)
"Stop trying to move. You're injured."

Maybe dying, but Malcolm was still sorting through the information he had been told. Star date? What was that? Did he mean the year 2260? Ninth day of the fourth month? The USS Enterprise? As in the aircraft carrier? It had been decommissioned the last Malcolm had heard of it, and this man was not dressed as a sailor.

"Tiberius."

If that was a made up name, whatever agency that had sent this man needed to do a better job. Stripping off a suit coat that probably cost more than the average man made in months, Malcolm crumpled it up to side under Jim's head.

"James? Captain Kirk? Look at me. Stop trying to move, and look at me. I need to see your eyes. Then we can get you a drink."

Calling an ambulance was out of the question. A private doctor? Maybe. His hands rested on either side of Jim's face, trying to hold him and get a look at Jim's eyes. This kid kept trying to get up, and Malcolm was going to end up straddling him to keep him down.

Wouldn't that look wonderful on the front page news if this was a trick of some sort?