Because I'm plagued with my own kind of guilt
I wrote some fic.
Title: It Should Have Been Me
Author: spockish_girl
Characters: Captain James T. Kirk
Rating: PG
Summary: Kirk has lost some crewmen.
Spoilers & warnings: It walked off on its own...don't know how its going to turn out.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em of course. I just borrow them once and a while.
Author's notes: I was angry with myself. So...I wrote one on reflection of my own feelings.
It Should Have Been Me
Damn it. He swore silently and threw the report across his desk. Ensign Catirez had been declared dead. Internal injuries, severe third degree burns, major artery damage, severe blood loss. He was only 23.
Jim Kirk looked down at his arm, the bone knitter had done it's job and only a slight discomfort remained. He stared at the light cast on his arm and with a sudden revulsion, took if off and threw it against the wall.
Who else would have to die? How many more of his crew would he lose?
He moved towards the door of his quarters and activated the lock. He leaned against the door, slumping his shoulders. He put his hand to his forehead and rested his head for a few minutes.
It should have been me. He quickly stood up straight, straightening his shirt and moved to his desk, taking the report once again. He scanned the contents briefly.
Remains identified:
Lieutenant Robinson.
Ensign Flatina
Lieutenant Gilvenson.
All dead. Three more had died. Burned so badly...only ashes were left. He could still hear their screams echoing through the burning building. The screams of agony. To be burned alive.
Jim Kirk had escaped with a broken arm and a few burns. He was 'lucky', Bones said. Lucky.
Those four other crewmen weren't so lucky. What about their families? Ensign Flatina is a mother. Lieutenant Gilvenson was a single father. Robinson, the young son of Admiral Robinson. The only son of Admiral Robinson. And Ensign Catirez, the young girl who was going to be married next month.
They were all dead.
Kirk swore to himself that he would never let that happen again, a promise he knew he could not ever hope to keep.
Those blood curdling screams echoed through his mind.
It should have been me. He slammed his fist into the wall in his cabin.
Fresh blood was drawn from a knuckle. A small stain of blood was on the wall.
But it never would be as large as the stain of blood on his soul.
Title: It Should Have Been Me
Author: spockish_girl
Characters: Captain James T. Kirk
Rating: PG
Summary: Kirk has lost some crewmen.
Spoilers & warnings: It walked off on its own...don't know how its going to turn out.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em of course. I just borrow them once and a while.
Author's notes: I was angry with myself. So...I wrote one on reflection of my own feelings.
It Should Have Been Me
Damn it. He swore silently and threw the report across his desk. Ensign Catirez had been declared dead. Internal injuries, severe third degree burns, major artery damage, severe blood loss. He was only 23.
Jim Kirk looked down at his arm, the bone knitter had done it's job and only a slight discomfort remained. He stared at the light cast on his arm and with a sudden revulsion, took if off and threw it against the wall.
Who else would have to die? How many more of his crew would he lose?
He moved towards the door of his quarters and activated the lock. He leaned against the door, slumping his shoulders. He put his hand to his forehead and rested his head for a few minutes.
It should have been me. He quickly stood up straight, straightening his shirt and moved to his desk, taking the report once again. He scanned the contents briefly.
Remains identified:
Lieutenant Robinson.
Ensign Flatina
Lieutenant Gilvenson.
All dead. Three more had died. Burned so badly...only ashes were left. He could still hear their screams echoing through the burning building. The screams of agony. To be burned alive.
Jim Kirk had escaped with a broken arm and a few burns. He was 'lucky', Bones said. Lucky.
Those four other crewmen weren't so lucky. What about their families? Ensign Flatina is a mother. Lieutenant Gilvenson was a single father. Robinson, the young son of Admiral Robinson. The only son of Admiral Robinson. And Ensign Catirez, the young girl who was going to be married next month.
They were all dead.
Kirk swore to himself that he would never let that happen again, a promise he knew he could not ever hope to keep.
Those blood curdling screams echoed through his mind.
It should have been me. He slammed his fist into the wall in his cabin.
Fresh blood was drawn from a knuckle. A small stain of blood was on the wall.
But it never would be as large as the stain of blood on his soul.