Day 56: Crossroader's Bar and Casino

[fourstonewalls]

Doyleton, Lana had surmised within the first few hours of her last visit, was too ordinary. Nothing this trip, even the abandoned building, had made her reconsider that assessment. She hadn't found the point where the small town stopped, and the lie started, where she could slip in a well-placed word and start to unravel the whole shebang

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[doneinthree]

After posting his update on the grocery store bulletin, Kirk spent the next couple of hours browsing the stores for what he could acquire with his measly ten credit card. The answer: not a lot. He'd familiarized himself pretty well with Doyleton the last time he was here and already had a good idea of what was on sale - practically anything a person (of the twentieth century) might want, really - but even when you were lucky enough to track down something useful for under ten dollars, there was no guarantee the staff would let you have it. Anything sharp or even remotely weapon-like? No. Anything flammable? No. Simple mechanical tools? Nope.In the end, Kirk did pick up a sturdy lanyard for his flashlight (oh, what he would give to get a Starfleet utility belt included with his things), and called it a day. There was little chance of finding anything decent for four dollars if he could barely find anything for ten, and besides, he had an appointment to keep

[hes_deadjim]

That bulletin post had about as much subtlety as Klingon trying to use diplomacy. At least Spock was okay. Something good had come from the past few hours

[doneinthree]

That cleaned out the rest of his money, which was fine with him. Kirk slid his ID card back into the pocket of his coat (when had they managed to take that picture of him, open-eyed and alert?), and gave the bartender a lazy salute as thanks for the drinks. The old man barely even grunted in response, as if the slightest encouragement might provoke the "lunatic" to start a conversation. By now, at least, Kirk knew the patients of Landel's were barely tolerated around here, paying customers or not. It was an animosity he knew well - missed a little, even. People always expected too much good behaviour out of him when he wore that bright red cadet's uniform into a bar.

But he didn't really feel like he was what these people saw, either. What he used to be. A young man in well-worn clothes sitting in a place where he didn't belong, looking like he was waiting for either trouble or opportunity and would take whichever came first. Three years ago, Jim hadn't known what he wanted. Now he did, and with that came a whole mess of

[hes_deadjim]

He considered it, then found there wasn't much of a decision. Drinking implied some sort of companionship on some level still, especially because Kirk had bought both drinks and was offering to share. As tempting as it was to have a stiff drink during this conversation, Lord knew they both were going to need it, McCoy knew he had to face this on his own

[doneinthree]

Kirk shook his head with a rueful smile. Honestly, he couldn't say he was surprised - he knew that determined look, that stiff-backed posture which so succinctly spelled out the fact that they were no longer only friends and colleagues. This was what he'd traded for the right to wear his uniform. Now he had responsibilities. Expectations of conduct. The weight of authority behind his words and actions, to back up those decisions which he thought were right. He reached again for that ball of self-indulgent moroseness, and found it wasn't there. Neither was disappointment. He didn't even know if he would've preferred Bones to have answered differently.

Typical, Jim. Some part of him always had to rebel a little, even when it was against himself. Kirk tapped a finger on the table beside the full shot, just once, the exact span of time in which he considered downing that one too. But... the moment had passed. He slid off the stool to stand steady, gaze direct, before McCoy. He'd spent too many years playing drunk and

[hes_deadjim]

The Captain slid off the stool with that easy grace that most people tended to forget he had. He stood in front of him. No one else could have oozed his rank as completely right now as Kirk. McCoy's spine got stiffer in response. He made himself look the other man in the eye.

"I criticized a commanding officer, was insubordinate, and may have jeopardized Spock's search and rescue," McCoy said flatly. Laying out his offenses was easier than he thought it would be. Now that it was neatly laid out, McCoy could only see just how much of a liability he'd been last night.

He knew that wasn't all Kirk was asking about. Not just a confirmation that McCoy knew what he did was wrong. He wanted a full explanation. The doctor wished he knew what happened last night. McCoy remembered every detail, how it came about, but he was at loss to explain himself. Why had he blown up at him? Gotten so pissed to the point that he had said some things that he didn't think he would have said normally.

Because Jim wouldn't stop talking, that's what. Because

[doneinthree]

Kirk didn't even nod when McCoy described his actions last night. He already knew what had happened - they'd both been there - and he'd guessed from Bones seeming bent upon self-flagellation right now that the doctor recognized how out of line he'd been. That made his job easier, but it still wasn't the answer he was looking for. Kirk waited.

He didn't care about insubordination. He knew that, yes, a starship was a delicate machine, and unwavering discipline from every level of the crew was the oil which kept it smooth running. If he had those four-hundred-plus other men and women under his command, and a fine instrument of steel and purring engines under his feet, then yeah, sure, he'd be angrier about it. But he didn't, and they weren't even in the same century as the Federation any more, and Kirk hadn't been a starship captain nearly long enough for his place atop the chain of command to have become unquestioning instinct.

Mere hours he'd spent as acting captain of the Enterprise. Two weeks he'd been a prisoner of Landel's

[hes_deadjim]

Jim didn't even acknowledge the laundry list. He just stared at him coolly and waited for him to go on. McCoy had privately had some reservations about a younger Jim. Most of it had just been because he'd, admittedly, had a bias towards his own Jim, who was older, more experienced, and tried in the field, more even-tempered. Whatever doubts he'd had, this Kirk, right now, was every inch a starship captain

[doneinthree]

Kirk's eyelids gave a telling flicker at the first part of Bones' answer, and that was it for his stint in military stoicism. "Before?" He'd been so caught up in all the ways Landel's Institute had been toying with them (subtle or obvious, constant and temporary), that he hadn't give much thought to the possibility that this whole issue might have other causes. He should've. He'd wondered before, hadn't he, why they'd picked a Leonard McCoy from the alternate reality when everyone else, from Chekov to Uhura, had come from the one Kirk had left.

One possible answer, and the most obvious one: they were looking for something in particular in their subjects, and they'd found it in this Bones. What would make him so interesting? Some quirk in his mental state, something incurred before his arrival, some compelling reason to want to crack him open and play with the results. Kirk knew from all which had already happened to him that they couldn't just be selected randomly. There were too many intimate details in their books, too many

[hes_deadjim]

McCoy shot Kirk an annoyed look, unable to stop it from surfacing. Jim was a smart man, smarter than a lot of people initially took him for, but sometimes he tried the doctor's patience. Kirk should know better than to even ask it. If the doctor knew why the headaches, they wouldn't be here already

[doneinthree]

Kirk caught that look, and raised his eyebrows at Bones. What was that about? Maybe his line of questioning was a little obvious, but it wasn't as if "full disclosure" had characterized their conversations so far. He prepared himself for whatever Bones wanted to say to him, but he went on with his story and the moment passed.

Kidnapping a person right in the middle of beaming seemed rather risky on the part of Landel, although maybe no more risky than snatching Kirk while his ship had been in the middle of running from a black hole. Or whatever had happened there. According to Spock and Chekov, they did manage to escape, and had apparently returned to Earth and been awarded commendations and commissions, with James T. Kirk receiving the height of the honours. Was he just not remembering it because Landel's people had selectively wiped his memory for some reason? Or had another branching timeline been created in that split-second moment they'd been caught in the blast, and the victory rush had come to a halt when everyone

[hes_deadjim]

"My Jim," McCoy confirmed. The doctor finally sat down. He didn't bother waiting for the Captain to give the okay, just gave him a looking that bordered on surly, as if daring Kirk to make a fuss. After last night, and what he'd probably have coming already because of it, he'd already dug himself a hole as it was. There wasn't anywhere else he could go but downward. And he wasn't going to talk about That place standing at attention

[doneinthree]

Kirk again resisted commenting on the unfriendly looks Bones was sending his way, although it did take an extra degree of patience to not roll his eyes. Did he hit a sore spot? He supposed that in spite of his acknowledgement of his disruptive actions, Bones was still thinking most of what he'd yelled at Jim last night. Which was his right, as it was a free... prison... and he certainly had better captains to compare to, but if Kirk had to keep dealing with an unreasonably cranky CMO- Well, okay, that probably wasn't all that different than normal life with Bones in his crew, but one way or another, a repeat of last night was not going to happen

[hes_deadjim]

McCoy looked up at him as if he'd spontaneously spouted another set of arms. And here he was wondering if he was going mad. Kirk was acting like he couldn't even tell the damn difference between the Kirks. There was a growing undercurrent of impatience in his voice. "I know who you are. I got a pair of eyes."

You're the one who doesn't have the guts to do anything about being captured, he thought. Not how it counted. He'd seen Kirk and Spock do some unspeakable things and over lesser offenses. Maybe he found them brutal, over-the-top, sickening, and that was on the good days, but he'd be damned if anyone repeated the same mistake afterward. It only took one demonstration. Jim was at least decisive and fast-acting. Effective. It was why he had the U.S.S Enterprise under his command. He knew what he wanted. He got results. If he'd been here, they wouldn't have been captured longer than a few hours

[doneinthree]

Kirk picked up his second shot of whiskey, definitely not suppressing eye-rolls now. "Right, and if it was my stunning good looks you'd confused for someone else, I'd be more hurt than concerned right now. But go figure you might have a problem telling apart Jim Kirk from Jim Kirk from me by sight alone." Was Bones seriously going to start acting like he was the delusional one? While Kirk couldn't claim to be entirely sane after two weeks in Landel's, he at least could be entirely sure that only one man had kept his shit together last night, and it wasn't the one who supposedly had years more experience and a medical degree.

Why was he even explaining this to Bones? They'd both been there, and knew exactly what had happened. Unless... they didn't. The glass in Kirk's hand hit the countertop again, still tragically full. "Hang on, do you... not remember the stuff you said last night? About Chekov trying to 'relieve' me of command, and how you felt like you had to escape after ripping me a new one, as if you don't do that to

[hes_deadjim]

"Very funny," McCoy glared at him, not appreciating the sarcasm in the least. Maybe he'd been...unbalanced last night, but without the migraine at full force yet, he thought he had a better grasp on his self-control and emotions than before. He didn't need Jim undermining it at every turn.

And didn't they all have similarities deep down anyway? Kirk's ruthlessness in that Other Universe was more pronounced and honed there, but he'd seen it across the board. Who was to say it couldn't come out in the others? It was just a matter of time. He wasn't sure whether that realization put him more at ease or just in a constant state of anxiety, rather than surges of it. Maybe he'd finally realized the truth about them. Answered some questions. It should be a relief. Now McCoy had to wonder if he was going to have any one of them turning on him, like time bombs going off.

McCoy had the good grace to at least look intensely uncomfortable. "I remember it all." If only he couldn't remember it, or if only it had been some alien influence making