universal_charm | AOS Meets TOS

He knew better than to count the days. He stopped when his mind just naturally lost track, and it was better that way. Keeping track of the time was a really fast way to drive yourself mad, wasn't it? And he needed to keep sane. He had to.

Never mind that he hadn't showered in... who knows when. He was used to his own odor by now and tried not to think to much on how greasy his hair must his look. His jaw and chin at least stopped itching from the growing beard. He liked to imagine he looked like quite the rugged sort of mountain man, and not the desperate strandee he was.

For the upteenth time that he dare not track, he wormed his way into the shuttle he had managed to only partially crash planet side. Carefully he edged towards to the front where the controls were, reaching out to check one of the few functioning pieces left - the SOS signals. Still working, thank god, quietly beeping as it released out his cry into the infinite abyss. A long shot, but his only shot, and he rather hoped that the code attached - the call sign for the Enterprise, using the captain's particular signature code - would help with a response.

He had to have some kind of hope, right?

His check done, he wriggled his way back out, going over to his survival kit and grabbing his knife. Time to go check the traps and see if he could scrounge up some plant life and pray that it didn't kill him.

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It was boring work, waiting, so Kirk had some requisitions brought to him to sign off on while he waited, since that was another task he also hated. He didn't want to risk not being there when the other woke, however, and he was grateful when the other Jim finally opened his eyes.

"I can't think why," he said with forced easiness. "You're a damned good looking fellow."

He winced as he laughed. "Damn, that's not fair, you're charming as well."

Because he was also charming. They were both charming. And that was dangerous. How odd, to see his own face looking back at him like this, though he supposed if he looked long and closely enough that he would find the differences in their experiences there.

"So - I assume there are questions. Or can I get a drink first? McCoy sanctioned, of course. I assumed Bones is CMO?"

"Sorry," he said, with that oh-so-charming grin. "Questions first. Drinks once I'm absolutely certain you're not a robot, my evil id, or from another universe and about to take over my ship."

He spoke lightly, as if pretty sure already none of those things were the case, but Jim might notice that he wasn't actually joking.

"I think it's pretty clear," he continued more soberly, "that you're not exactly me. Bones has found traces in your DNA that don't match. And yet," he studied the other man's face carefully, "how to explain that you're not me, but we both call our CMO Bones, that's a question." Not specifically that, of course. The nickname itself doesn't matter. It's the fact they share it. "So first things first--you're on the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701. We're on a five year mission of exploration, it's stardate 220331, and we found you stranded on a planet I've never been to. That track so far?"

He smacked his lips, just a little, which wasn't so much an admonishment as it was his lips actually being dry. But all the same, he kept his gaze on Jim (James, perhaps, in his head, just to help himself), and listened. The DNA part was not surprising - he was him, but also not entirely now, thanks to a certain incident.

His eyes flicked to the side, clearly turning over what to say in his head. Spock, the Elder Spock, had been so careful with his, but did he need to be here? It seemed, from what James was saying, that they were lining up with their timelines - at least in so far as neither was ahead of the other, so there wouldn't be the risk of altering anyone's choices or destiny or what have you. The star date did not entirely track, but it wasn't unlikely that there might be a slightly different notation format.

"Oh, good, she's still the Enterprise," he nodded slowly, a sort of pleased gleam in his eyes. "And yes, it all tracks," he added. "I think I was on that planet for a month and a half?" His eyes rolled back in that way they do when people are recalling, trying to do the math. His shuttle had been able to keep time, but he had also made a point of not tracking to closely either. It had been long enough.

"As for being you and not you..." Another pause as he gathered the words. "I am James Tiberius Kirk, son of Winona and George Kirk. However, due to an incident in my universe, I had to have a particular blood transfusion that has added new DNA to mine - though I'm sure Bones could see it was scant. Obviously, I'm a 99.8% match for you or something." Theoretically it could have been 100% if he was a clone, but he wondered if the missing .2% somehow made him more believable or not. "And yes, I did say universe. My conjecture is that the shuttle I was in got pulled through some sort of wormhole, and spat out near the planet you found me on. Lucky for me it was livable, otherwise we would be denied the pleasure of each other's company."

And he could not help but smile that charming, James Kirk sort of smile, tired though he was.

His eyes narrowed through the other man's explanation. Partly because he was listening and taking it in, not wanting to miss any part of what might be a clue as to how he'd gotten there. But the more the other Kirk talked, the more Jim realized the amount of information, of certainty, was suspect. Not in the nefarious sense, but simply because it suggested a greater familiarity with this type of thing than he would have expected.

From, well. Himself.

He was going to need medical treatment in a minute, if this kept up. And a drink.

Speaking of which, he hadn't missed the lip thing, and he hadn't really meant all hydration or anything, so he moved over to the synthesizer to get a cup of water which he brought back and handed to Kirk.

"I know we're taught about the possibility of other universes at the Academy," he says after a moment. "And I know I've seen enough out here to make me believe... well, just about anything. But am I wrong in thinking you've seen something like this before?"

If he went into how his timeline even came about, then you would really need that drink. And probably a nap. Definitely a nap.

He nodded gratefully when his other self brought him the cup of water, sipping slowly. Oh, god, fresh water he didn't have to boil. It seemed like such an insane luxury now after months out on that wilderness. His eyes watched James though, letting him parse what he'd just said, and ask his question as he kept his mouth from turning into a permanent pucker.

There was a pause as he considered how to answer, trying to model Elder Spock as much as he might, though he did not have the moral quandary of being ahead in a time-stream. Just different.

"I'm the product of it, in a way," he settled the cup in his lap. "And I've met someone where I had no choice but the believe. Kind of like right now, except they were much older than their counterpart."

Again he was quiet, debating, his brow furrowing and eyes going distant for a beat as he mustered his next question. The important one, to really determine how different they were.

"Is Vulcan still in existence here?"

In a macro, more philosophical sense than he was used to dealing with, they were all the product of some sort of whim of space-time. If the multiverse theory were true--and the Terran universe implied heavily it was--then every choice or chance led to another offshoot. None, he supposed, truer than any other.

But that was not what Kirk--the other Kirk--seemed to be talking about. His experience was specific. And... intimate, somehow. Personal. His brow furrowed in something like quiet shock at the question.

"Vulcan? Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Relief eased his chest, oddly enough. So - he was in a universe where Vulcan was all right. Maybe he was even in Elder Spock's universe, though at a different time point, clearly. Even so, he gave thanks that there was a universe where Spock and his people did not have to suffer such a calamity, where his other self was spared the guilt of that failure.

"Just a bit of proof that I really am in an alternate universe," he said softly, hands gripping his sheets. "In my world, Vulcan is gone - imploded, to be more accurate." If there was a way to convince someone what he said was true, this felt like one of the best ways. Though, he supposed it could come across as a ridiculous lie. But for himself it was the most glaring point that he could perhaps ascertain where and even when he was.

"Believe me or not," he added. "Though I'm sure Spock and Scotty can come up with several tests to confirm what Bones' medical analysis has already said about me. I would prefer not to, though. Scotty's experiments have a tendency to get shocky, no?"

AOS Meets TOS - Kirk x Kirk

doot doot I'm a flake

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