And Who am I, Captain Pike?
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Gen
Series: Belief in Angels
The whole thing is kind of like one of those really sick, concentration-camp, eugenics kind of science experiments. Like they got the admiralty really drunk, enough to think that giving Jim Kirk the Enterprise-giving him the Enterprise with that crew-was ever a good idea. They're just kids, and they're probably all going to die.
And the most disturbing part about the whole thing is that they all seem to know it. And they follow him anyway.
Pike is wondering if this kind of… of fatalism is what he thought he was getting when he got Kirk to enlist in the first place. If this is the kind of leadership he thought Starfleet needed. He sort of doesn't want to know.
It's not that Kirk's not a good captain. Far from it, in fact. They've got the best mortality rate in the fleet-even if the captain's medical record gets longer after pretty much every away mission-and they have an enviable working relationship, all of them. They're not the textbook bridge crew, not by a long shot, but that's not what Pike wanted when he harangued Kirk about not going into Starfleet in the first place.
Pike never knew George Kirk, but he does know Winona. And because of that, he doesn't really need to have known George, because Winona is enough to convince Pike that crazy must run in the family. He has no expectations with Jim. And thank god, because it keeps him from going insane. And Number One would probably kill him if he turned out to be as much of an alcoholic as McCoy, so it's a damn good thing he likes Jim.
It's both a benefit and a downside now that Pike's an admiral. Because he gets to be the guy who convinced the most stubborn genius-level repeat offender in the Midwest to become the most stubborn genius-level captain in the 'Fleet, but he also has to be the one to cover Jim's ass. Which is pretty much a full-time job, forget everything else he has to do now that he's stuck groundside.
And he has to remind himself, after another grueling meeting (read: interrogation) with Komack, that he knew what he was getting himself into (even though he didn't, not really, because you never do with Jim Kirk). And yes, Jim is still what Starfleet's lost; he's a throwback, sure, and he might also be their one chance at getting it back.
Pike just sort of assumes that Jim's crew gets that. Mostly because it's the only theory that doesn't give him a migraine.
And he doesn't really need that kind of headache right now. Because he's formulating a theory much more pertinent to his own problems right now, specifically that the admiralty has its own form of hazing, and he hates his life.
Leadership seminar for command cadets? Really?
Like Pike has anything to tell these kids. They're all seriously fucking young-Pike thinks they're getting younger every year. Or maybe he's getting old after all, and there's a scary thought. And they all look at him like he's some kinda hero or something. Ridiculous. Was he ever that naïve? He doesn't actually remember anymore.
Winona shows up, for whatever reason. She sits in the back of the lecture hall in that leather jacket she was always so famous for, and goddammit, she looks just like she did back when she was one of those cadets. Pike knows for a fact that she was never that naïve. Jim gets that from her, too.
Pike gets up to the podium (he's walking now, but he still has to use a cane). He's got something worked out, note cards and everything, but it all seems kind of stupid and contrived and fuck are they all young. Pike can't bullshit these kids.
So he tells them the truth. He tells them about all the shit he's been through since he was a fresh-faced Southern California boy enlisting in Starfleet. He tells them about the Narada. He's not sure why; even after he threw out the bullshit he wasn't planning on telling them about that. But he does, and they seem to appreciate it.
He sees Winona in the hallway after his talk, when the kids are all on their way back to their dorms. She's lingering. Pike doesn't think she wants to talk to him. She still probably hasn't forgiven him for getting Jim in Starfleet, and he's not exactly sure she won't kill him, even now. Pike knows that there's a difference between her being proud of Jim and her being willing to murder Pike in cold blood for letting her son into the black.
It's not to talk to him. It's like… she's remembering. He knows that look. He's caught himself with that look before. She's seeing their classmates, their friends, the people they went through the Academy with, people they may have served with, gone to hell and back with. People who can't ever come back here, can't just show up for some stupid retreat just because they feel like it.
So Pike knows she probably doesn't want to talk to him (if there's one thing he knows about Winona Kirk, that woman knows how to hold a grudge). But he asks her to have a drink with him, because they're old friends and that's what they do. She nods.
Winona's still driving her motorcycle. She's fifty.
"I can't believe you still ride that thing, you psycho," he tells her as she takes her first shot.
And as usual-this is Winona, after all-she completely ignores the point. "I don't understand why all you idiots always insisted on thinking I was the crazy one." She almost laughs at that. Pike can see it in her shoulders.
"You were."
"No, I wasn't, Pike. I mean-" She cuts herself off, gesturing to the bartender for another round. Her voice is softer when she starts talking again. "-Yeah, I was. But you have to know by now that George was just as fucked up as I am."
Pike doesn't know what to say to that. Does he know?
Okay yes, he wrote a dissertation on the Kelvin. He knows. He knows what crazy looks like because he's seen it in more faces than he likes to admit.
Chris Pike isn't crazy. Never has been. He's a good captain, follows regs, knows when to be cautious and when to go in guns blazing. And Jim? Jim he's not so sure about. He's getting used to that feeling. He's spent a lot of his life with that feeling. Winona Kirk is the personification of that feeling.
She's a bitch, but she was a great officer. And Pike respects that. Respects the fact that she doesn't really like him, but she showed up. And she pays for her own drinks, like Jim would.
"Do you regret it yet?" she asks, and he wants to hit her. It occurs to him that Winona was never a people person the way Jim is. He's so much like her, but Winona alienates people the way Jim draws them in. It's eerie.
Pike leans back in his chair, contemplating. He already knows what he's going to say. It's just a matter of whether saying it is gonna make her kill him. Aw, what the hell. He's old.
"Nope, not a bit."
She takes another shot. "Huh. Really."
"Starfleet needs him."
"Sure, but does he need Starfleet? You're a good guy, Pike. I like that you're loyal." He just nods at the compliment, wary of what's coming. "But Jimmy doesn't know shit about duty. He's never felt it the way guys like you do. Just trust me on this."
Pike sighs, knocks back another shot, enjoying the buzz. He hasn't drunk like this since the Academy. Tequila. Shit, Winona.
"I know he's crazy, Winona. But we need him. And personally I don't give a shit if he needs us, so long as he stays. I don't ask anything of him. And I'll keep the admiralty off his back. I just need him to stay."
Winona shrugs. "Convince him, then."
"I intend to."
She smiles wryly, grabs her leather jacket off the back of the chair. "Okay." She pauses, standing next to Pike's chair. He can smell the alcohol on her, along with the faint scent of grease and engines. She never changes. "Oh, and don't call me Winona."
"What am I supposed to call you, then? You're retired. Or don't you remember?"
She shrugs again, handing a card to the bartender. "I might have to reenlist, just so I can outrank you."
He smiles. "The day you do that, let me know and I'll have them bust me back to commander. I'd serve under you any day of the week, and I'll even call you 'sir.'"
"Not gonna happen, kid. But nice try. Your gimmicks don't work on all Kirks, you know." She ruffles his hair, which is weird. Nobody's done that since his aunt May when he was ten. But then, it's Winona. That's his excuse for everything she does.
"Hey, all I needed was one."
"Lucky you you got the crazy one." She laughs before he can call bullshit. And then she's gone, driving off in that damned motorcycle with a bandanna in her hair. She doesn't wear a helmet, either.
Damned crazy Kirks.