Reboot Fic: Shadowplay 8/9 (Draws XI) [Pike/Dael/Kirk/McCoy] NC.17
For warnings, see Part 1
It's five hours later when the next incoming call from the Enterprise is announced.
"Jim." When Pike sees the captain's serious face, he braces himself for the onslaught of criticism.
"Hey Chris, wonderful lover," Kirk starts lightly, as if nothing had happened in the meantime. "It's really been too long since our last talk."
"Very true," Pike says moved, and after this invitation, it's so easy to say what he feels. "I missed you both terribly. Really, really badly."
"We missed you too. Prolonged radio silence is one of the suckiest ordeals in the universe." Kirk pauses for a moment. "Got a briefing from Bones, so I thought I'd call as soon as possible." His mouth curves into a smile. "Hitting the pinnacles of poly relationships, are you?"
"Damn, yes," Pike says, exhaling. "I'm glad you didn't call to read me the riot act."
"I wouldn't do that - unless I thought you needed it." The smile turns into a smirk.
"Thanks," Pike says a little ironically.
"Seriously - I mostly called to say take it easy. There's no need to get worked up over the idea you've got to make a decision when nobody pushes for one."
"Someone will, at some point."
Kirk shakes his head. "No, Chris. That's only in your head. Remember, the four of us were on Earth together for ten days and nobody pushed for a decision. Maybe you would want to make some decision because you'd feel better with having some clear-cut solution, black and white, but it doesn't have to be that way."
Pike squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Guess you're right," he says at last, looking up at Kirk again. "I feel like I'm hanging in the air. I feel like I'm not in control of the situation, and it's driving me a little crazy. Here's Earth and the sudden revival of something I thought long gone, and there's outer space with Dael completely out of reach and you… It shouldn't feel like a sudden disconnect but it has felt like that over the last weeks."
"I know. Bones and I had the same problem but to a lesser degree, because we always have each other. You, on the other hand…"
"Yeah. Guess I did something wrong, having three lovers and still ending up with nobody around." Pike brushes one hand over his bottom lip. "I thought I got all I wanted. Guess I'm not very good at knowing what I want."
"You don't want to be alone," Kirk says. "Nothing wrong with that."
"I didn't look for anybody. I just happened to run into him."
"Shit happens," Kirk says but the grin tells Pike it's meant as a teasing joke. "So, would we like him?"
"Hope so. He's very unlike John."
"Except for the good-looking part?"
Pike laughs a little self-consciously. "I'm that vain, aren't I? I've had other lovers too, that didn't look like models. I like to think my choices are about people, not looks."
"Mostly they seem to be but it sure doesn't hurt when the guy is broad-shouldered and in shape." Kirk smiles. "I can relate."
Pike nods, turning serious again. "I miss you so much, both of you. I wish…"
"My offer to Bones still stands, about resigning from command," Kirk says. "Actually, I've put farms for sale in your area on notification." Now it's Kirk who smiles self-consciously. "We all have our dreams."
It painfully reminds Pike that even though Kirk might handle the current tension with outward ease, deep down they all have their insecurities, and what Pike does or doesn't do will have an effect on all his lovers. "That's a brilliant idea," he says seriously. "I'll keep my eyes open too. And if you find something, drop me a note. Even if I can't get to it right away, I'm sure Tom would be delighted to help."
"Sure." Kirk reaches out with one open palm. "I've got to get to work, got a ship to run, you know. As I said, take it easy, no need to get worked up over maybes. I love you - we love you, and we want to see you happy."
"I know, Jim." Pike replies. "Trust me, I want to see all of us happy too." It's just that he doesn't do a good job at it right now and it makes him feel guilty.
The Enterprise signs off, and Pike sinks back with a sigh.
*
Nogura calls him to his office a day later for the first time in weeks, and from the serious face of the old man, Pike can deduce that whatever subject he'd been invited to discuss, it won't be funny. At least it turns out to have nothing to do with any of Pike's sexual deviances and presumed failures, but with the 'fleet.
"Six ships have filed a complaint against Shaa," Nogura says, offering Pike a PADD once he's seated. Pike thumbs through the complaint that obviously concerns a larger, top-secret mission near the Klingon border.
"So it's about the enforced radio silence and several orders that are judged to be strategic mistakes," he concludes after reading the rather sharply worded statement that is signed by six captains and their XOs. Kirk's name isn't among them, which surprises Pike, considering that the Enterprise is mentioned several times and had obviously been one of the reasons why a large, complex mission gone wrong hadn't had more impact - more deaths in skirmishes with Klingons.
He wonders whether Kirk's apparent loyalty is the reason that Nogura wants to discuss this complaint with him.
"Shaa is filled with indignation, of course," Nogura says. "Such a reaction from captains is without precedence."
"Which makes it all the more important to address their concerns properly," Pike states.
Nogura waves his hand. "In the Andorian fleet, such a behavior from captains would be unthinkable."
Pike shrugs. "Then she better learns that Starfleet doesn't work like the Andorian fleet."
"She thinks that because certain captains didn't sign, she doesn't need to address the complaint," Nogura says. "Of course, this won't go down well with the admiralty but we cannot allow a few captains to rule the fleet."
"Excuse me?" Pike says, the PADD half slipping out of his hands in surprise. "Those few captains are some of the best commanders we have out there, and if they went as far as making an official complaint, many serious concerns must have been ignored by Ships Operations before that. You cannot simply disregard them now."
"So far, this complaint is confidential and hasn't left a small circle of people. There's no need to address it right away."
While Pike has had his problems with Nogura over the last months, he can't quite believe his ears now. "You'd sweep it under the rug? That's unbelievable. Heihachiro -"
"I haven't yet made a decision, but I ask you to keep quiet about this," the old man interrupts him. "Dismissed."
*
The call to the Enterprise takes time to establish, but Pike patiently waits through all the relays and delays until Kirk appears on the screen.
"Nogura showed me the complaint filed by some of our captains," Pike says.
Kirk smiles tiredly, his uniform jacket half open; he looks as if he'd been on his way to bed. McCoy is nowhere to be seen. "I guessed as much when you wanted to speak to me so urgently."
"Why didn't you sign it?"
The captain presses his lips together.
"Why, Jim?"
Kirk looks away for a moment, pondering the answer - then he turns towards the screen, shocking Pike by saying, "I know that your working relationship with Esteban and Nogura is very problematic now."
Pike needs a moment to find a good answer. "I never said anything like that," he says lamely, realizing that it's basically a confirmation the second the words are out.
"If it were easy, you'd have mentioned them once in a while. You never do, just as you stopped speaking about your task force even before Dael's departure. Besides, you're not my only HQ contact." Kirk leans forward, lacing his hands on the table. "I thought about signing that complaint but I knew it would make your situation even worse, so I didn't."
"You don't have to protect me," Pike states. "Not like that. I don't want our relationship to have an impact on your decisions as captain. As an officer. I don't want that, Jim."
"This isn't just about you, but about us all," Kirk replies, briefly avoiding Pike's gaze.
"You let Leonard influence your decisions?" Pike asks sharply.
"I like to have good sex once in a while," Kirk tries to joke, but it falls completely flat. "Chris - he's concerned about you, I am concerned about you. That wasn't the only reason not to sign, but it's one of the more important ones. Shaa's a pain in the ass but so are most admirals. She'll learn."
"You're going to sign this complaint, or we're done with each other," Pike says.
"You're kidding," Kirk says rigidly, his usually expressive face turning into a mask.
"I mean it. My position on Earth is my own responsibility, and I won't let my partners maneuver themselves into a position where they feel they need to compromise to save me."
Kirk's eyes widen. "It's too late to sign."
"You'll sign it, Jim, because this complaint is right and important and you're never going to draw away from a necessary decision because you or anyone else thinks I need to be protected. Never - ever - again."
Pike signs off and leaves the office, wandering through the city until the dawn breaks and the cool night air drives him home where Alain is waiting for him, offering a shoulder to lean on without questions.
*
On the next morning, Nogura stalks into his office.
"Kirk and Spock just signed the complaint. Do you know anything about this?" the old man asks sharply.
Pike wordlessly looks at him.
"I see," Nogura says. "I'd never have thought you'd stab me in the back like that, even though Shaa has warned me that you've become unreliable. After everything I did for you…" He turns and leaves.
"I wouldn't have thought that about you either," Pike mutters and eyes the orders coming down from Nogura's office, McAllister specifically, with yet another testing schedule changed from that he'd originally signed.
Guess that means war.
A pity Pike would probably be the one on the losing side.
*
The memories of Celestis had pushed something out of his subconscious for which Pike wants a definite answer in the light of their by now rather unrealistic but still existing farm dream, so next time he visits Naaz for a check-up, he asks her in their pre-talk, "If I wanted to have my sperm quality checked, could we do this here too?"
She's surprised but nods. "It's not standard here but we'd be able to use the lab down in the first floor for that check. We'd need a sample for that, though - the old-fashioned method still works best."
"Fine." Pike gets a cup and saunters off to the restroom, having a hard time coming up with anything arousing enough until he settles on fantasies of the doc standing next to him and forcing him to deliver the sample.
After all his other checks, which are much less physical and mostly consist of lying under some scanners, he returns to Naaz for the closure. She looks at him with a strange gaze but gives him the expected normal results of the brain scans first before bringing up the question that really moves him today.
"Regarding your sperm sample -" She pauses for a moment.
"Go ahead," he says. "I can take any result."
That's obviously the statement she needs to hear. "The count is below a million, and mobility is mostly grade 1. By medical standards, you are sterile. Chances for a naturally happening pregnancy are practically nil."
"I see," is all he says.
"You knew that already, didn't you?" Naaz asks, searching his face.
Pike folds his hands. "Thirteen years ago, I had a bad infection." She's looking at him, waiting for an elaboration, and he can't resist. "Got a few dozens needles driven into my balls. Some broke during a subsequent beating and had to be removed surgically. My CMO warned me about potential sterility due to the infection and the severely scarred tissue."
She turns pale and swallows. "Oh. Some sex game gone wrong?"
"No, real torture gone right," Pike says, instantly feeling sorry for having pushed it at her like this. "It's in my medical history," he says apologizing.
"I never read anything beyond what I needed, which was mostly data after the Narada."
"I'm sorry." What a difference from McCoy, Pike thinks, who believes in knowing everything about a patient that there is to know.
"I'm sorry too." Naaz purses her lips. "Are you thinking of having children? There would be methods -"
"No, I'm not." Not biological ones, anyway.
"Okay. So - see you in a month?"
Pike leaves SFM with a strange feeling. Even though he'd never tied virility to sperm production, the result does make him feel a little defective, and out of the blue, he's having a hard time restraining himself from cupping his balls as they hurt in sudden phantom pain.
At least he knows for sure now.
*
Sometimes when he comes home unexpectedly, he catches Alain sitting somewhere with a rather solemn, almost sad expression. His friend always quickly calls up a smile but the California dream man image has too many fissures and cracks by now to get covered by that.
"If you want to see your boys, we could surely arrange something," Pike says.
Alain rubs his tired eyes. "It's not a good time for that."
"Does your wife even know where you are?"
"No, I only managed to send her a note from a public terminal back then that I'm away and will call in a while."
Pike shakes his head. "She's probably mad with fear by now. Let's give her a proper call - we can use some obscure, protected 'fleet channels."
"Don't, Chris," Alain says stiffly, visibly not inclined to continue this discussion.
"Okay," Pike says and leaves it at that.
It's not as if he can force anyone to talk.
This slogan is probably the story of his life by now. Although the Enterprise is within real time communication range, the men don't seem to be on speaking terms with him at the moment, and Pike can't blame them, feeling much the same. He'd never been as angry with them as when learning about Kirk's misguided decision to protect him by not signing that complaint, and it's driven a rift between him and the couple.
He loves Leonard but it's mostly a source of pain for them during times of separation, which would remain long and frequent. It has repercussions on them all, which is dangerous and impossible to work with on the bridge of a starship. Pike would keep at more of a distance for as long as they're out in space - it would hurt, but it would hurt less than seeing the two making bad decisions because of him.
In weak moments, Pike still surfs the farm offers, dreaming about what they could have together, but he can't help thinking of a sentence he once read on a postcard:
"We hold on all the stronger to the piles that we feel crumbling beneath us."
*
Cho is on earth and shows up with only a brief warning at the door of his office, eyeing his assistant with more than little surprise.
"Still didn't find a better one?" Cho asks as she drags him to an early lunch in one of the admiralty's smaller mess halls.
"Stopped looking," Pike says. They quickly get their food, and he follows her to a corner table at the very end of the room.
"What the hell is going on here?" she raves as they're both seated, having a hard time to control her volume. "This is far beyond the usual bullshit. Don't think I'm so stupid I don't get it."
"So what do you think is going on here?" Pike asks as he cuts his piece of meat.
"It's a campaign to get you out of your position," Cho states. "An organized mobbing." She looks at him, waiting for his answer.
"Yes," Pike says. What irony that the same thing he could end for Dael is now happening to him.
"Yes?" she blurts out, shaking her head. "That's all you've got to say about it?"
"Yes."
"You're just going to let them win? Who's behind it anyway?"
"I guess Shaa," Pike says. "Probably she'd love to have someone of her own tribe in my position. Nogura is on her side already, willing to make decisions that go against everything that should be sacred to the fleet."
"And you are going to let her win?"
Pike puts his cutlery aside. "I made too many mistakes. Ruined my reputation with my relationships. Ruined my working relationship with my bull-headedness about the Borg. Ruined my health with my lifestyle. Made a lot of small strategic mistakes that all sum up to - I don't know how to solve the situation. I can't solve it."
"Then who could?"
"Nogura, possibly, but he's got me on his own personal blacklist by now." The statement should hurt - that it doesn't only shows Pike how far he's come in his inner separation from this institution. "I'm not yet ready to resign," he says to stop another of Cho's angry rants. "But I'm not going to hold my position forever either."
"If I talked to Nogura -" Cho offers.
Pike shakes his head. "I doubt that this would help much. It might possibly only endanger your own position."
"Dammit, Chris - you've been a fighter all your life. A really tough guy," Cho says a little desperate. "You can't just let a bullying campaign by an Andorian asshole get the better of you."
"Maybe it's just a sign that my career has run its course," Pike says. "You know, there's some nice farmland to buy out there. I could start to ride again. I really miss the desert."
Cho sighs annoyed. "Do your men know what's going on here? Did you even tell them?"
"We're not exactly on speaking terms right now. It's complicated."
She frowns at him. "I don't get it. You've commanded so many ships, always had a great hand when picking your bridge teams. Why can't you do the same on Earth?"
"It's not just working like that here," Pike says, picking up his cutlery to proceed eating. The truth is that once he'd allowed his relationships to become an important part of his life, they'd also become the major source of trouble, slipping out of his control worse than anything else. He really feels like he's in a deadlock by now, not knowing which move might be right, or even possible.
When they leave the mess, he wants to part from her but she drags him down to her office. "There's someone I want you to meet," she says and smiles at the woman who gets up from the visitor's chair.
"That's my partner, Renata Ochi," Cho introduces her. "And this is Christopher Pike, an old friend of mine."
Pike looks at the woman who'd once had a short but intense affair with the doc. She's at least two heads shorter than he, with brown eyes, long dark hair, full breasts and rather round curves, clad in an elegant dress. Somehow he hadn't realized that when McCoy speaks about fine ladies, he really means it. Obviously, the doc likes his women very feminine and his men rather manly, while Pike - if he could judge from a sample of two biological women - prefers everyone looking male.
"Happy to meet you," Ochi says, her curious gaze sweeping up and down his figure in a similar fashion. "Leo didn't lie when he bragged about you." She smiles.
"You've got an advantage over me, he didn't tell me a lot about you," Pike states smoothly. Or if the doc had done it, he'd forgotten the details and had no intention of hunting down that recording.
Ochi's smile deepens. "Doesn't surprise me. He was quite head over heels about you, while I was only a temporary distraction."
"Is that so?"
"Talked more about you than Jim Kirk. I almost expected to hear of their separation one day, but I'm glad that obviously didn't happen."
Pike swallows. The affair between Ochi and McCoy had taken place after the very first time the three of them had come together. To learn that Leonard had been in so deep already then… he shakes it off. They're fine as they are now, with a good measure of distance between them, both of them having made the decision to keep away from dangerous games.
Suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to get away from the couple, he states, "I've got a meeting. Please excuse me." He leaves them, feeling their slightly confused gazes on his back.
*
For a few days, he's able to return to a state of equanimity, even though the working climate at the admiralty has gone down to glacial levels. His health isn't the best either. Once again he has random memory lapses but while most task force members try to ignore the problem, Esteban uses every chance to bring it into the spotlight, determined to get him out of his position one way or the other.
One afternoon he comes home with a curse on his lips, throwing his precious PADD around in a burst of anger he usually doesn't have the energy for. Passing a rather shocked Alain who's waiting in the kitchen, he stalks out onto the terrace, inhaling the cool air in the attempt to get his terrible mood under control.
Quiet steps draw close as Alain joins him.
"They're driving me crazy," Pike says. "And that's their plan. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to live with the pressure." Esteban is one thing; having Nogura also in open opposition is definitely tipping the scale against him.
"What would be your alternatives? Another job?"
"Back then, I thought about resigning from Starfleet - to stay with you."
"I remember," Alain says.
"Went as far as applying for jobs in the private sector, even had two interviews." Pike looks into the dark, arms tightly laced.
"And a pretty backhanded reply you got from me, didn't you?" Alain says, putting his hands on Pike's shoulders to massage him gently. "I would never have asked for your resignation. I knew Starfleet is basically your life."
"Maybe it's time for a life outside of Starfleet," Pike says, although he can't picture it yet. Sitting alone on a farm waiting for the people he loved… no thanks. And what else could he do with his health that could break down any second if something went wrong?
"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself," Alain speaks aloud what Pike thinks.
"Maybe I'd just need someone to teach me that," Pike mutters, not sure who he's actually speaking about. He can't imagine spending his life with Alain - or could he? As long as he's asking himself that question, Alain is the wrong guy.
But he has the same misgivings about Dael. Even the doc - Lord knows whether they'd really be right for each other in a day-to-day life, with petty everyday problems like hairs in the shower and work routines in conflict. And right now, with the distance and some hurt feelings between them, they're not right for each other at all.
"Maybe I just need to spread my own wings a little," Pike says, looking down to the street.
"Huh?" Alain says, his grip on Pike's shoulders tightening.
"No, not like that," Pike appeases him, looking around to meet his once-ex-now-again lover's eyes. "Just… I don't know, think outside the box some more. There's got to be more to life than what I have right now."
"There is, Chris. So much more." If you just saw it, swings in Alain's words.
Pike knows his friend is right - but he doesn't have the energy right now to reach out for it. Not on his own, at least, and so he only leans back wordlessly.
Alain takes this as the end of discussion and pulls him inside for a full body massage, caressing his brooding thoughts away for the night.
*
Asimov and he still surf the boards over lunch two times a week, waiting for an answer from T'Anihl, reading through forum entries, and discussing Romulan politics although that species becomes less important to Pike with every day that the smoldering conflict with the Klingons lasts and the Pathfinder launch draws closer. At least it means taking a break from the stressful atmosphere of other meetings, the endless criticism from Nogura who seems to find something wrong in every report lately. If he'd thought he'd been on Nogura's bad side before, now he learns what that really feels like.
"If you really cared for your career," Pike says at one time, "you would stop working with me."
Asimov looks startled for a moment, then squarely faces him. "If I cared for my career, maybe I'd listen to friendly suggestions from certain people. But frankly, I don't. I've been on probation for a while; if Starfleet thinks it doesn't need my knowledge, I'll always be able to find something outside the organization."
"Yes, I guess you would."
"As you would, sir," Asimov says seriously.
"I will consider my options in time," Pike says, wondering if anyone listened to the cam's recording, not putting it beyond Nogura to have him under surveillance by now. Between the accusations of betraying fleet secrets and abusing his rank for sexual services, he's also the partner of a captain who, after signing a first complaint, added a second, even sharper one with a detailed analysis by Spock on the tactical errors in the HQ orders. It's too well-done to get swept under the rug - and that wouldn't have been possible anyway as Kirk had been intelligent enough to send it to all admirals and captains. It's causing quite an earthquake within Starfleet at the moment.
Pike smiles at the thought. He'd congratulated Kirk on the complaint and its effects, and while the reply had been brief, it had been signed with Love, Jim. Things are still strained, but there's hope they'll get back to the relationship they had during their vacation - one day, when they're together again. The doc had sent nothing but a picture that had been taken on Earth, a Chris&Leonard shot which is both heart-warming and frustrating, and Pike had saved it away with every intention not to look at it for a while.
"Let's return to that complicated poem from last week," Pike says, pulling himself out of his thoughts to address Asimov. "Even though I've got all the words by now, their symbolism goes right over my head…"
He never asks about that morbid "sacrifice of birds" poem Dael had brought up back then.
*
Farnham bribes him with lunch in a new, but already famous restaurant, and Pike enjoys a great meal over which they don't speak about Alain at all and Dael only a little. Instead, Farnham speaks about Eric and their vague plans of moving in together.
"Oh, by the way -" Farnham says when they're out on the street. "Maybe you shouldn't surf that board quite so often."
Pike feels like he’s been punched in the guts, stopping mid-step.
"You know which one I mean," Farnham says lightly. "It's not quite the place a respectable Starfleet member should hang around… and neither should a lieutenant that's on probation."
Pike shakes his head. "So you're back on spying on my activities?" he says flatly.
"I'm not," Farnham says. "Only got a call from a friend of a friend…"
"You know I surf it because of Dael?"
"I guessed as much. That still doesn't mean you should get overly affiliated with that board."
"Or…?" Pike says dangerously quiet.
"Damn, Chris," Farnham says exasperated. "I only wanted to warn you - it's not about me, but you. I want you to stay in your job."
"You're the only one lately." Pike straightens his shoulders. "What the fuck." He turns and walks away, glad that Farnham gives up after one half-hearted call.
What the fuck.
*
"I got promoted," Cho says when they've established the line on this beautiful sunny morning, golden rays dancing over the walls of Pike's office. "As of next month, I'm in charge of half of the terminals of Utopia Planitia."
"Congratulations," Pike says. "I always knew you'd have a great career. I can't wait for the day when all of UP is yours."
"Should happen within the next five years," Cho says with a grin, but he knows she's serious.
"Who'll be in charge of terminal 14 and the refit project then?" he asks.
"Commander Rosen." Cho nods in commiseration as Pike can't resist drawing a face. In the various meetings where Rosen had participated, she'd tended to speak in favor of Esteban's preferences, and having her in charge now would weaken Pike's influence on the team's decisions further. "I tried to keep them from promoting her, but she was the logical choice. I'm sorry."
"I'm sure she earned her promotion," he says controlled. "She's good at what she's doing." Including the moments when she wins in discussions against Pike.
"I'm going to miss our chats," Cho says.
"You could still call me once in a while," Pike replies, but they both know that with their tight schedules, keeping in contact outside of joint projects would be unlikely.
Cho smiles. "You know where to find me too. I'm sure your project will keep UP busy in the future."
When she signs off, he reclines in his chair, curling his hands in his lap. Another brick in the wall, the lyrics comes up unasked. Or maybe more of another plank being pulled out from beneath his feet. Ironic that now that his legs had stopped giving in, his position is the more fragile, unstable thing.
He gets up and walks to the restroom, bathing his face in cool water.
"Are you feeling well, sir?" someone says and he turns to find McAllister, one of Nogura's deputies.
"Of course," Pike says instantly. He hadn't forgotten the strange meeting with this man, and wouldn't want to give him another opening for criticism.
"I only ask because you look so pale." McAllister lets a beat pass. "Must be hard to know that without modern medicine, one would be dead already."
There isn't a single day on which Pike doesn't reflect on the sad truth that without his carefully leveled medication, he'd neither be able to get out of bed nor work on a regular base, but that's not McAllister's business.
"Isn't that what's modern medicine supposed to be for?" Pike says coolly.
"Of course. But all the long meetings, all the long workdays… I'm surprised how well you deal with it. Usually, Medical is quick to order people on leave, and few of those with brain injuries return to full duty as you did."
Pike dries his face with a paper towel. "Chalk it up to my being an old, stubborn SOB."
"I do," McAllister says with a strange smile. "Good day, sir."
Pike goes home very late that night.
*
The SOB attitude is good and fair, but unfortunately his body isn't up to that anymore, no matter how much Pike would love to ignore that. And so it doesn't take long before his body complains in a very specific and agonizing way, landing him painfully on his knees in the middle of the kitchen. At least he doesn't have anything in his hands when it happens.
"What was that?" Alain asks him wide-eyed as he helps him up from the floor.
"Just my brain acting up," Pike says, shakily sitting down on the second-best chair and burying his face in both hands. "It was going so well. Shit." He's close to tears, a suffocating lump stuck in his throat. "I can't believe this is happening again."
Alain wordlessly holds him until the trembling subsides, and Pike doesn't know whether he really wants that or not. It couldn't just be that he's unable to function without someone holding his hand, be it Dael or Alain. He was stronger than that. He hates his weakness, and that he's tired and frustrated enough to think about giving up. He has to persist. He just has to.
They eat and go to bed. For a while, Pike is still in his gloomy mood, but in the end he's able to admit to himself that he's grateful to curl up against his lover, enjoying the gentle, calming caresses.
"Maybe it really would be best to do something else," Alain says quietly. "Resign and move to the countryside, buy a farm as you dream about. You don't need to work. You could have a good life."
Pike doesn't answer.
"I've talked to the specialist on organized crime you connected me with. I'll be able to make a deal, but I'll have to vanish for a few months. We could run off for a while." It's the first time Alain makes any allusion to a possible future together.
"I can't." Pike pulls away. He'd made a promise to Dael, and he intends to keep it, even if he might be a fool for waiting.
"Okay," Alain replies.
*
"How do you feel?" Naaz asks him two weeks later when he sees her for his regular check-up.
"Fine," he says. His brain scans look good, he's an expert on them by now.
She doesn't look at the images at all though, only at his face. "You look pale. Did you have any neural lapses? Your knees give in?"
"No," he lies.
"I had a look at the data from the sensor bracelet. You didn't sleep a lot lately."
"I've got a lot of work… and a sex life."
She smiles at him. "Oh, is Dael back?"
"Not yet, but soon," he says, avoiding a straight answer.
"I see, someone else joining the club." Naaz takes the news in a stride. "Well, then I'll let you return to your busy life. Take care, Chris, and see you in a month."
"Yes, thanks," he says and leaves her, putting on his knee protectors in the restroom before leaving the building. Given that he'd taken another two falls already, it's just too risky to go without.
*
Esteban once again signs a new feature for implementation and testing that Pike had been sure they'd agreed to keep out of the next round, obviously no longer feeling the need to pass it by Nogura's office. Pike lets it slip; it doesn't really make much difference, as one of Nogura's assistants would surely sign it anyway.
In a sharply worded message, internal controlling complains about his overuse of 'fleet communication channels, although he hadn't even called the Enterprise lately.
On the next morning, the coffeemaker on his floor breaks and the technician that gets generously tipped by Pike to adjust the settings to his personal preferences is on vacation. Consequently, the espresso is reminiscent of colored water for god knows how many days.
Pike wonders if anyone has hexed him.
*
"Chris, would you have a minute?" On Friday afternoon, the face of Captain Illyon of the Endeavour surprisingly fills his screen. He hadn't heard from his old academy friend since his failed attempt to get Dael assigned to her ship, and he stares in concern at the strangely decorative bruise on her forehead.
"Mori - I thought you were still on your explorative mission and out of direct communication range. What happened?"
"We have new orders, moved into another sector. Had a little run-in with the Romulans too." She coughs, and it sounds painful. "A certain someone is a little out of her mind in the HQ, and I think I'll give Kirk a call later. But first, I need your help. We're in dire need of a specialist for Romulan affairs. I heard you had one working for you but he's not really to be trusted…?"
Pike shakes his head. "I don't know who's been your informer but Nicolai Asimov is a fine officer. He's taken up the rather unsatisfying assignment of brushing up my Romulan, and he does a great job at it. If you're in need of someone who doesn't just speak Romulan but also knows what makes them tick, absolutely go for him." He hesitates for a moment. "Of course, that's only my opinion. I guess if you asked the Head of Linguistics, you might get some more official information."
"If you vouch for him, that's enough for me," Illyon says without hesitation.
She's quite in the minority with that opinion by now, and it makes Pike nostalgic.
"I'm going to contact him tomorrow for a transfer request. Today, I'm a little busy." She rubs her face with one bandaged hand.
"Your little run-in - how bad?" Pike asks.
She smiles crookedly. "Nine dead, main power grid fused to modern art. It's been a damn shit. Thanks a lot, Chris, I'm in your debt."
"Even double by now." He smirks, then sobers. "Mori - take care, please. I really don't want to attend your memorial service."
"I know. Though I remember that you look fabulous in black. Better than in white." She waves and signs off, leaving him wondering whether she is trying to tell him something here.
In any case - it's a relief to know that Asimov will be off-planet soon, heading out with a good captain and crew.
*
The one redeeming thing in his life at the moment is Alain, and Pike is determined to make the best of their time together. They beam to his club on Friday night again, after a nice dinner at home with a tad of white wine, just enough to keep Pike's med app quiet. It's a great evening, and Pike is relaxed and touchy-feely, by his standards. They hang out at the bar for some time, where one of the guests tells an incredible story about a one-night-stand with a Tellarite, his almost theatrical performance cracking up everyone in his audience.
Pike laughs too, then slings one arm around Alain's hip before leaning over for a kiss, ready to move on with the evening program and whispering as much into his lover's ear. But when he pulls back, he freezes as he looks right into Esteban's eyes. He unlaces from Alain and straightens up.
"Sir," the captain says stiffly.
"What are you doing here?" Pike asks.
"A friend of mine wanted something special for his bachelor party," Esteban says with the expression of a man who'd been forced here at gunpoint. "You're here to meet friends…?" His gaze drifts over Alain.
Maybe that would be the moment for a good lie, but that's not Pike's style. "I own this club," he says. Esteban's eyes widen, the man's mouth curling in disgust. "Explains a lot," Esteban says, and that's the point when Pike has enough.
"A word with you, Captain," Pike states icily, giving Alain an apologizing nudge on the shoulder before walking aside with Esteban.
"This won't do," he says as they're face to face in the half-shadows. "It's obvious that we're unable to return to a functioning professional relationship." He doesn't say you are, it wouldn't help a thing. This isn't just about Esteban but also about Nogura's and Shaa's behavior as of late and the whole damn fucked-up situation he's in, partly due to his own faults, partly steered into by the currently dominant forces. He doesn't need to wait until Nogura finds a reason to dispose of him. He would become a privateer by his own decision. "We're done."
Esteban looks at him with a face suddenly drained of all color, probably expecting to get booted out of the Pathfinder's captaincy.
"On Monday, I'll tell Nogura I'll resign," Pike keeps going. "Chances are the task force will merge into Ship Operations anyway, so Shaa will take over."
Esteban shakes his head. "Sir - I didn't intend -"
Pike waves his hand, interrupting him. "If you didn't, then you're a clueless idiot and that's not befitting for a man who'll play an important role in the future of the Federation. My decision stands, and don't think this is just about you, Esteban. You're not that important to me."
Esteban's jaw clenches as the man tries to summon a good reply.
"And as you don't want to be here anyway, I'm asking you to leave now." Pike doesn't care that he might spoil somebody's party over it; he's had enough of the man and doesn't plan to have another bad night because of an asshole who can't tolerate other people's lifestyle. "Get out of here, Captain," he orders sharply as Esteban opens his mouth.
That finally does the trick. "Yes, sir," the man snaps and turns on his heel, taking a second to inform his friend before leaving alone.
Alain joins his side, cautiously touching his arm. "Trouble?"
"Not anymore," Pike says, taking in the enormous feeling of relief over finally having made a decision.
*
It's a wonderful Saturday morning, the sun is bright, the smell of coffee lingering in the air, and Pike feels light-headed and relaxed for the first time in months. The feeling of relief from the evening before is still full-fledged, and there's not one thought of taking his statement back. He's going to resign. It's not a hard decision, looking at the facts, and he can't quite fathom why it had taken him so long to reach it. It would end the daily agony, the conflict about Dael's status, the loyalty problems he might cause for his men. He takes a quick shower, gets his bathrobe, and looks out for his cohabitant.
Alain stands in the kitchen, greeting him with a kiss and a cup full of the hot, dark brew.
"You're looking good this morning," Alain says. "Happy."
"It was a great evening," Pike says. He's not going to speak about the resignation before it's done, which should be by Monday evening. It would be a nice surprise, hopefully - but this time he's not doing this for Alain, he's doing it for himself first, and for the people he loves second.
He quickly empties the cup and gives it to Alain for a refill.
"I don't think you need it," Alain says softly.
"Hmm?" Pike looks up at him. Something is strange, his world slightly wavering and shifting as if set to the wrong optical filters. He blinks, wondering whether something is wrong with his eyesight, but the world keeps changing.
"I'm sick of watching you fighting it, Chris. Never being the man you could be, only the man they want you to be. Tied up in your memories, the things that have been done to you. It's time someone does something about it."
"What did you do?" Pike says in disbelief as realization trickles into his mind like a liquid over the edge of a table.
"Just a little relaxant in your coffee," Alain says. "You'll be fine, more than fine. Just come with me." Pike is unable to resist when Alain walks around the table and pulls him up, directing him to the bedroom. His lover puts him into the chair at first, rummaging around on the bed. Pike's world is blurred and worse, he seems unable to parse what he sees through the unclear colors. Only when Alain removes his bathrobe and puts him down on the bed does he notice the medical restraints that wait for him. A sudden panic rises, but gets strangely stuck on the way, lingering beneath the surface like a swarm of fish under a cover of frozen ice.
"Why…?" Pike manages to whisper as Alain straps him down, his voice unreal in his own ears. It's that position, that kind of belt around his waist, and he freaks out, mute little fishes gaping against the layer of silence. His ankles and wrists are fixed and he's back there and he's going crazy, starting to see it all again, the high ceilings of meandering metal, dark, wet and intimidating.
"I've read the report," Alain says and kneels over him, caressing his face through the layers of shadows that creep in. "I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing it for you. Believe me, Chris, please believe me. I never wanted to work for him but he blackmailed me. This is my way to apologize. I'm going to set you free." The hands are everywhere now, like soft winds above the ice, the sweetness of spring.
Him? A question drifts, inexpressible.
"Going to bring down these walls you've built. Going to make you feel again." Alain's lips are soft on his, and the fish's frantic little zig-zag turns to cycles, hypnotic and pacifying. Slowly his blurred world turns sweet and erotic, tinged in colors of the rainbow that break through the blue.
"Open your mouth, yes, let it flow…" Things run down his throat, slick and slimy and he laughs about the strangeness, the way everything suddenly floats, light and free. He's flying, nothing can hold him back, not the ties, not the blade that runs over his skin. He's free to go wherever he wants, can love whoever he wants. There are sparkles, more rainbows, piles upon piles of them like ribbons braided around him. Then all of him expands like one red giant, an exploding star of light brilliant and beautiful in its destruction.
*
He wakes up in a full bath tub without remembering how he'd gotten there, the water cool and a little dirtier than it should be. With shaky legs, he gets up and showers, then leaves the bathroom to find out where Alain is.
His lover lies on his stomach on the rather messy bed, and for a moment Pike wonders if he'd only dreamed it all, but then he sees the medical restraints piled on the floor.
Pike heavily sits down on the bed. "Why, Alain?"
His friend rolls onto his back, the gaze from green eyes slowly focusing on him.
"I did it for you," Alain says dreamily. "Wanted to help you break the cycle. Start living again."
"By drugging me and doing… whatever you did?" Pike says, staring down his chest where angry red lines signal a knife's paths.
"You just took it. Didn't panic at all. Tied you down, fed you things. You didn't freak out. You're healed. You're free. They can't hurt you anymore." Alain gives him an angelic smile, and Pike realizes that his crazy ex must have taken a hefty dose of this or another drug himself.
"Get out of here," he forces out of his throat, which hurts for no definite reason, or at least none he wants to remember. "Get. Out."
Alain struggles to his feet. "You're angry. Ah, don't be, Chris. You'll be fine. Trust me. It's the only thing that ever helped me. Therapists don't change shit. I'm better than them."
"You're mad," Pike mutters, pressing his hands onto his eyes against a sudden onslaught of colors, bright drops hanging in the air in front of him like balloons that pulse in time with his heartbeat.
"No worse than you," Alain says, dressing up in erratic movements. "You'll thank me one day, Chris. Not today, not tomorrow, but you will." He bends over and takes Pike into a shaky embrace, managing to kiss him before Pike can escape the touch.
"Didn't love you back then. I tried but I couldn't, you just never let me in. Tonight, man," Alain says and points his finger at him, "tonight you were perfect. Open and flying, Chris."
Pike shakes his head, a manic laugh tickling in his chest because really, things like this just don't happen to men his age. This is the playground of drunken teenagers, who'd later say you wanted it too, didn't you, not a forty-plus year old stoned ex telling him he's perfect when drugged to the gills and tied up against his will.
Alain pulls on his shoes. "Keep that feeling, Chris. Keep flying. Don't let him pull you down, don't let him win."
"Who's he?" Pike asks but Alain has just steps out into the corridor, not hearing his question. He tries to get up from the bed but he can't, his legs on strike. "Alain - who's he?" he shouts, his mind momentarily clearing. He'd thought Alain means Esteban but suddenly he doubts it. He remembers something about a report; it must have been his own report, or how could Alain have known all those Narada details he had barely shared with anyone? "You owe me an explanation."
Alain reappears in the doorway. "You'll find out, Chris. You're clever." Then he vanishes again, and seconds later, the main door opens and closes.
"You bastard," Pike calls after him in vain, then curls on the bed, swept away by a sudden rebound of the drug.
*
He wakes up hours later, at a time which he soon identifies as Sunday evening. With effort, he gets to the bathroom, waking up slightly after a slosh of cold water in his face. When he looks into the mirror, he sees a ghostly white face, so he rather looks down on his chest, putting some synthoskin on the deepest, still bleeding cuts with trembling fingers. Then he walks into the kitchen, carefully placing his feet because the floor still seems to tilt at times. There's water and coffee and he's not too sure whether he should be glad when his head clears a little and the memories of the evening return.
If anyone tested his blood right now, he'd be in for a reprimand. Or worse, this would make a perfect headline for the yellow press, "Admiral caught with illegal drug". Thinking of testing - his medical bracelet is gone. He finds it in the bedroom, cut open although it could've been removed without force. The knife that was used is still on the floor, and Pike picks it up, vaguely remembering the blade on his chest and how strangely unreal and painless each cut had felt.
A sound suddenly tingles in the air, and he needs a moment to locate it. He sits down, accepting the call without visuals.
"Chris, Naaz here. Are you all right?"
"Always," he says, another hysteric laugh threatening to escape and not making it. "Just not looking presentable."
"I'm a little concerned. Seems you're not wearing your medical bracelet?"
"Yes, it got ruined during, uh, sports."
He can positively feel her smirk through the line. "Do you want to get a new one delivered to you or will you come and pick it up?"
He rubs his thumb over one of the cuts on his chest. "I'm busy tomorrow. How about picking it up Tuesday evening?"
"Fine. You should be able to survive without it for a day or two."
The synthoskin on one cut rolls off a little, a smudged red underneath it.
"Really, is everything all right?" Naaz asks again.
"Yes. See you on Tuesday," Pike says and closes the line. The cut bleeds, although it's not very deep and already a few hours old. Strange, he thinks, but then Tom calls and he decides to put another stripe of synthoskin over it and let it rest while trying to calm down his concerned almost-nephew who'd been trying to reach him since Friday. Naaz could always have a look at it in two days.
He's soon in bed again, and the vague memories meld into dreams like black and white chocolate, Alain's self-satisfied smile lingering above it all.
*
When he gets up on Monday morning, the whole mess feels distanced, as if it had happened to someone else. It's a sentiment Pike can run with, considering that he has no inclination to see himself as a victim. He thinks about his resignation during the ride, wondering if he, whoever that guy is specifically (if he even existed beyond Alain's drugged brain), would win if he did, deciding at last that it doesn't matter. He's tired of being the pawn in all of this; this would be the last round of suffering for an organization that had moved away from what he'd seen in it.
Once he's in the office, Pike sends a note to Nogura asking for a personal meeting ASAP, but it's answered negatively with a vague suggestion of an afternoon time. This leaves Pike to live through yet another task force meeting. It's weirdly amusing to discuss topics that he knows will be off his desk by the same time tomorrow, but he doesn't let his decision show through the interaction with his team. He also ignores the looks Esteban throws his way, and gives him the cold shoulder when the captain wants to have a word in private during their short coffee break. There's nothing left to discuss, and he instead focuses on getting some of their tasks off the table; Shaa should see that he'd done good work while he'd lasted, Pike thinks ironically.
The meeting quickly moves along due to Thelin's talent for bringing even the most heated discussion back to the point. It's already twelve-thirty when Pike next looks at the time. He's feeling a little light-headed and is looking forward to a lunch with Asimov that might be their last, so he decides to wrap up the meeting after one more topic.
"I suggest -" he starts and looks up from his PADD, stopping when he notices the others staring at him. At his face, to be exact, and only now does he feel a wetness pooling above his upper lip.
Reflexively, he wipes one forefinger through it, and it comes back bright red.
"I guess that means we need to discuss the last point at another time," Pike says calmly. It's just a nosebleed, why the hell are people staring at him as if he's going to die?
Out of habit he rotates his chair and gets up to show out his visitors, and of course that's a mistake. He doesn't really fall - it's more of a slow slide down until his knees hit the carpeted floor, and he's glad he doesn't crash into the table. His eyes stray downward, and the blood is really damn red on his white-grey uniform while the PADD on the ground next to him flashes in all colors of the rainbow, strangely reminiscent of his drug trip. There's a flurry of activity exploding around him, hands on his shoulders, calls being made, and he makes a dismissive hand-sign, it's all okay with my brain, he thinks, it's all fine, but the words don't come out anymore.
*
Onto Part 9
It's five hours later when the next incoming call from the Enterprise is announced.
"Jim." When Pike sees the captain's serious face, he braces himself for the onslaught of criticism.
"Hey Chris, wonderful lover," Kirk starts lightly, as if nothing had happened in the meantime. "It's really been too long since our last talk."
"Very true," Pike says moved, and after this invitation, it's so easy to say what he feels. "I missed you both terribly. Really, really badly."
"We missed you too. Prolonged radio silence is one of the suckiest ordeals in the universe." Kirk pauses for a moment. "Got a briefing from Bones, so I thought I'd call as soon as possible." His mouth curves into a smile. "Hitting the pinnacles of poly relationships, are you?"
"Damn, yes," Pike says, exhaling. "I'm glad you didn't call to read me the riot act."
"I wouldn't do that - unless I thought you needed it." The smile turns into a smirk.
"Thanks," Pike says a little ironically.
"Seriously - I mostly called to say take it easy. There's no need to get worked up over the idea you've got to make a decision when nobody pushes for one."
"Someone will, at some point."
Kirk shakes his head. "No, Chris. That's only in your head. Remember, the four of us were on Earth together for ten days and nobody pushed for a decision. Maybe you would want to make some decision because you'd feel better with having some clear-cut solution, black and white, but it doesn't have to be that way."
Pike squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Guess you're right," he says at last, looking up at Kirk again. "I feel like I'm hanging in the air. I feel like I'm not in control of the situation, and it's driving me a little crazy. Here's Earth and the sudden revival of something I thought long gone, and there's outer space with Dael completely out of reach and you… It shouldn't feel like a sudden disconnect but it has felt like that over the last weeks."
"I know. Bones and I had the same problem but to a lesser degree, because we always have each other. You, on the other hand…"
"Yeah. Guess I did something wrong, having three lovers and still ending up with nobody around." Pike brushes one hand over his bottom lip. "I thought I got all I wanted. Guess I'm not very good at knowing what I want."
"You don't want to be alone," Kirk says. "Nothing wrong with that."
"I didn't look for anybody. I just happened to run into him."
"Shit happens," Kirk says but the grin tells Pike it's meant as a teasing joke. "So, would we like him?"
"Hope so. He's very unlike John."
"Except for the good-looking part?"
Pike laughs a little self-consciously. "I'm that vain, aren't I? I've had other lovers too, that didn't look like models. I like to think my choices are about people, not looks."
"Mostly they seem to be but it sure doesn't hurt when the guy is broad-shouldered and in shape." Kirk smiles. "I can relate."
Pike nods, turning serious again. "I miss you so much, both of you. I wish…"
"My offer to Bones still stands, about resigning from command," Kirk says. "Actually, I've put farms for sale in your area on notification." Now it's Kirk who smiles self-consciously. "We all have our dreams."
It painfully reminds Pike that even though Kirk might handle the current tension with outward ease, deep down they all have their insecurities, and what Pike does or doesn't do will have an effect on all his lovers. "That's a brilliant idea," he says seriously. "I'll keep my eyes open too. And if you find something, drop me a note. Even if I can't get to it right away, I'm sure Tom would be delighted to help."
"Sure." Kirk reaches out with one open palm. "I've got to get to work, got a ship to run, you know. As I said, take it easy, no need to get worked up over maybes. I love you - we love you, and we want to see you happy."
"I know, Jim." Pike replies. "Trust me, I want to see all of us happy too." It's just that he doesn't do a good job at it right now and it makes him feel guilty.
The Enterprise signs off, and Pike sinks back with a sigh.
*
Nogura calls him to his office a day later for the first time in weeks, and from the serious face of the old man, Pike can deduce that whatever subject he'd been invited to discuss, it won't be funny. At least it turns out to have nothing to do with any of Pike's sexual deviances and presumed failures, but with the 'fleet.
"Six ships have filed a complaint against Shaa," Nogura says, offering Pike a PADD once he's seated. Pike thumbs through the complaint that obviously concerns a larger, top-secret mission near the Klingon border.
"So it's about the enforced radio silence and several orders that are judged to be strategic mistakes," he concludes after reading the rather sharply worded statement that is signed by six captains and their XOs. Kirk's name isn't among them, which surprises Pike, considering that the Enterprise is mentioned several times and had obviously been one of the reasons why a large, complex mission gone wrong hadn't had more impact - more deaths in skirmishes with Klingons.
He wonders whether Kirk's apparent loyalty is the reason that Nogura wants to discuss this complaint with him.
"Shaa is filled with indignation, of course," Nogura says. "Such a reaction from captains is without precedence."
"Which makes it all the more important to address their concerns properly," Pike states.
Nogura waves his hand. "In the Andorian fleet, such a behavior from captains would be unthinkable."
Pike shrugs. "Then she better learns that Starfleet doesn't work like the Andorian fleet."
"She thinks that because certain captains didn't sign, she doesn't need to address the complaint," Nogura says. "Of course, this won't go down well with the admiralty but we cannot allow a few captains to rule the fleet."
"Excuse me?" Pike says, the PADD half slipping out of his hands in surprise. "Those few captains are some of the best commanders we have out there, and if they went as far as making an official complaint, many serious concerns must have been ignored by Ships Operations before that. You cannot simply disregard them now."
"So far, this complaint is confidential and hasn't left a small circle of people. There's no need to address it right away."
While Pike has had his problems with Nogura over the last months, he can't quite believe his ears now. "You'd sweep it under the rug? That's unbelievable. Heihachiro -"
"I haven't yet made a decision, but I ask you to keep quiet about this," the old man interrupts him. "Dismissed."
*
The call to the Enterprise takes time to establish, but Pike patiently waits through all the relays and delays until Kirk appears on the screen.
"Nogura showed me the complaint filed by some of our captains," Pike says.
Kirk smiles tiredly, his uniform jacket half open; he looks as if he'd been on his way to bed. McCoy is nowhere to be seen. "I guessed as much when you wanted to speak to me so urgently."
"Why didn't you sign it?"
The captain presses his lips together.
"Why, Jim?"
Kirk looks away for a moment, pondering the answer - then he turns towards the screen, shocking Pike by saying, "I know that your working relationship with Esteban and Nogura is very problematic now."
Pike needs a moment to find a good answer. "I never said anything like that," he says lamely, realizing that it's basically a confirmation the second the words are out.
"If it were easy, you'd have mentioned them once in a while. You never do, just as you stopped speaking about your task force even before Dael's departure. Besides, you're not my only HQ contact." Kirk leans forward, lacing his hands on the table. "I thought about signing that complaint but I knew it would make your situation even worse, so I didn't."
"You don't have to protect me," Pike states. "Not like that. I don't want our relationship to have an impact on your decisions as captain. As an officer. I don't want that, Jim."
"This isn't just about you, but about us all," Kirk replies, briefly avoiding Pike's gaze.
"You let Leonard influence your decisions?" Pike asks sharply.
"I like to have good sex once in a while," Kirk tries to joke, but it falls completely flat. "Chris - he's concerned about you, I am concerned about you. That wasn't the only reason not to sign, but it's one of the more important ones. Shaa's a pain in the ass but so are most admirals. She'll learn."
"You're going to sign this complaint, or we're done with each other," Pike says.
"You're kidding," Kirk says rigidly, his usually expressive face turning into a mask.
"I mean it. My position on Earth is my own responsibility, and I won't let my partners maneuver themselves into a position where they feel they need to compromise to save me."
Kirk's eyes widen. "It's too late to sign."
"You'll sign it, Jim, because this complaint is right and important and you're never going to draw away from a necessary decision because you or anyone else thinks I need to be protected. Never - ever - again."
Pike signs off and leaves the office, wandering through the city until the dawn breaks and the cool night air drives him home where Alain is waiting for him, offering a shoulder to lean on without questions.
*
On the next morning, Nogura stalks into his office.
"Kirk and Spock just signed the complaint. Do you know anything about this?" the old man asks sharply.
Pike wordlessly looks at him.
"I see," Nogura says. "I'd never have thought you'd stab me in the back like that, even though Shaa has warned me that you've become unreliable. After everything I did for you…" He turns and leaves.
"I wouldn't have thought that about you either," Pike mutters and eyes the orders coming down from Nogura's office, McAllister specifically, with yet another testing schedule changed from that he'd originally signed.
Guess that means war.
A pity Pike would probably be the one on the losing side.
*
The memories of Celestis had pushed something out of his subconscious for which Pike wants a definite answer in the light of their by now rather unrealistic but still existing farm dream, so next time he visits Naaz for a check-up, he asks her in their pre-talk, "If I wanted to have my sperm quality checked, could we do this here too?"
She's surprised but nods. "It's not standard here but we'd be able to use the lab down in the first floor for that check. We'd need a sample for that, though - the old-fashioned method still works best."
"Fine." Pike gets a cup and saunters off to the restroom, having a hard time coming up with anything arousing enough until he settles on fantasies of the doc standing next to him and forcing him to deliver the sample.
After all his other checks, which are much less physical and mostly consist of lying under some scanners, he returns to Naaz for the closure. She looks at him with a strange gaze but gives him the expected normal results of the brain scans first before bringing up the question that really moves him today.
"Regarding your sperm sample -" She pauses for a moment.
"Go ahead," he says. "I can take any result."
That's obviously the statement she needs to hear. "The count is below a million, and mobility is mostly grade 1. By medical standards, you are sterile. Chances for a naturally happening pregnancy are practically nil."
"I see," is all he says.
"You knew that already, didn't you?" Naaz asks, searching his face.
Pike folds his hands. "Thirteen years ago, I had a bad infection." She's looking at him, waiting for an elaboration, and he can't resist. "Got a few dozens needles driven into my balls. Some broke during a subsequent beating and had to be removed surgically. My CMO warned me about potential sterility due to the infection and the severely scarred tissue."
She turns pale and swallows. "Oh. Some sex game gone wrong?"
"No, real torture gone right," Pike says, instantly feeling sorry for having pushed it at her like this. "It's in my medical history," he says apologizing.
"I never read anything beyond what I needed, which was mostly data after the Narada."
"I'm sorry." What a difference from McCoy, Pike thinks, who believes in knowing everything about a patient that there is to know.
"I'm sorry too." Naaz purses her lips. "Are you thinking of having children? There would be methods -"
"No, I'm not." Not biological ones, anyway.
"Okay. So - see you in a month?"
Pike leaves SFM with a strange feeling. Even though he'd never tied virility to sperm production, the result does make him feel a little defective, and out of the blue, he's having a hard time restraining himself from cupping his balls as they hurt in sudden phantom pain.
At least he knows for sure now.
*
Sometimes when he comes home unexpectedly, he catches Alain sitting somewhere with a rather solemn, almost sad expression. His friend always quickly calls up a smile but the California dream man image has too many fissures and cracks by now to get covered by that.
"If you want to see your boys, we could surely arrange something," Pike says.
Alain rubs his tired eyes. "It's not a good time for that."
"Does your wife even know where you are?"
"No, I only managed to send her a note from a public terminal back then that I'm away and will call in a while."
Pike shakes his head. "She's probably mad with fear by now. Let's give her a proper call - we can use some obscure, protected 'fleet channels."
"Don't, Chris," Alain says stiffly, visibly not inclined to continue this discussion.
"Okay," Pike says and leaves it at that.
It's not as if he can force anyone to talk.
This slogan is probably the story of his life by now. Although the Enterprise is within real time communication range, the men don't seem to be on speaking terms with him at the moment, and Pike can't blame them, feeling much the same. He'd never been as angry with them as when learning about Kirk's misguided decision to protect him by not signing that complaint, and it's driven a rift between him and the couple.
He loves Leonard but it's mostly a source of pain for them during times of separation, which would remain long and frequent. It has repercussions on them all, which is dangerous and impossible to work with on the bridge of a starship. Pike would keep at more of a distance for as long as they're out in space - it would hurt, but it would hurt less than seeing the two making bad decisions because of him.
In weak moments, Pike still surfs the farm offers, dreaming about what they could have together, but he can't help thinking of a sentence he once read on a postcard:
"We hold on all the stronger to the piles that we feel crumbling beneath us."
*
Cho is on earth and shows up with only a brief warning at the door of his office, eyeing his assistant with more than little surprise.
"Still didn't find a better one?" Cho asks as she drags him to an early lunch in one of the admiralty's smaller mess halls.
"Stopped looking," Pike says. They quickly get their food, and he follows her to a corner table at the very end of the room.
"What the hell is going on here?" she raves as they're both seated, having a hard time to control her volume. "This is far beyond the usual bullshit. Don't think I'm so stupid I don't get it."
"So what do you think is going on here?" Pike asks as he cuts his piece of meat.
"It's a campaign to get you out of your position," Cho states. "An organized mobbing." She looks at him, waiting for his answer.
"Yes," Pike says. What irony that the same thing he could end for Dael is now happening to him.
"Yes?" she blurts out, shaking her head. "That's all you've got to say about it?"
"Yes."
"You're just going to let them win? Who's behind it anyway?"
"I guess Shaa," Pike says. "Probably she'd love to have someone of her own tribe in my position. Nogura is on her side already, willing to make decisions that go against everything that should be sacred to the fleet."
"And you are going to let her win?"
Pike puts his cutlery aside. "I made too many mistakes. Ruined my reputation with my relationships. Ruined my working relationship with my bull-headedness about the Borg. Ruined my health with my lifestyle. Made a lot of small strategic mistakes that all sum up to - I don't know how to solve the situation. I can't solve it."
"Then who could?"
"Nogura, possibly, but he's got me on his own personal blacklist by now." The statement should hurt - that it doesn't only shows Pike how far he's come in his inner separation from this institution. "I'm not yet ready to resign," he says to stop another of Cho's angry rants. "But I'm not going to hold my position forever either."
"If I talked to Nogura -" Cho offers.
Pike shakes his head. "I doubt that this would help much. It might possibly only endanger your own position."
"Dammit, Chris - you've been a fighter all your life. A really tough guy," Cho says a little desperate. "You can't just let a bullying campaign by an Andorian asshole get the better of you."
"Maybe it's just a sign that my career has run its course," Pike says. "You know, there's some nice farmland to buy out there. I could start to ride again. I really miss the desert."
Cho sighs annoyed. "Do your men know what's going on here? Did you even tell them?"
"We're not exactly on speaking terms right now. It's complicated."
She frowns at him. "I don't get it. You've commanded so many ships, always had a great hand when picking your bridge teams. Why can't you do the same on Earth?"
"It's not just working like that here," Pike says, picking up his cutlery to proceed eating. The truth is that once he'd allowed his relationships to become an important part of his life, they'd also become the major source of trouble, slipping out of his control worse than anything else. He really feels like he's in a deadlock by now, not knowing which move might be right, or even possible.
When they leave the mess, he wants to part from her but she drags him down to her office. "There's someone I want you to meet," she says and smiles at the woman who gets up from the visitor's chair.
"That's my partner, Renata Ochi," Cho introduces her. "And this is Christopher Pike, an old friend of mine."
Pike looks at the woman who'd once had a short but intense affair with the doc. She's at least two heads shorter than he, with brown eyes, long dark hair, full breasts and rather round curves, clad in an elegant dress. Somehow he hadn't realized that when McCoy speaks about fine ladies, he really means it. Obviously, the doc likes his women very feminine and his men rather manly, while Pike - if he could judge from a sample of two biological women - prefers everyone looking male.
"Happy to meet you," Ochi says, her curious gaze sweeping up and down his figure in a similar fashion. "Leo didn't lie when he bragged about you." She smiles.
"You've got an advantage over me, he didn't tell me a lot about you," Pike states smoothly. Or if the doc had done it, he'd forgotten the details and had no intention of hunting down that recording.
Ochi's smile deepens. "Doesn't surprise me. He was quite head over heels about you, while I was only a temporary distraction."
"Is that so?"
"Talked more about you than Jim Kirk. I almost expected to hear of their separation one day, but I'm glad that obviously didn't happen."
Pike swallows. The affair between Ochi and McCoy had taken place after the very first time the three of them had come together. To learn that Leonard had been in so deep already then… he shakes it off. They're fine as they are now, with a good measure of distance between them, both of them having made the decision to keep away from dangerous games.
Suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to get away from the couple, he states, "I've got a meeting. Please excuse me." He leaves them, feeling their slightly confused gazes on his back.
*
For a few days, he's able to return to a state of equanimity, even though the working climate at the admiralty has gone down to glacial levels. His health isn't the best either. Once again he has random memory lapses but while most task force members try to ignore the problem, Esteban uses every chance to bring it into the spotlight, determined to get him out of his position one way or the other.
One afternoon he comes home with a curse on his lips, throwing his precious PADD around in a burst of anger he usually doesn't have the energy for. Passing a rather shocked Alain who's waiting in the kitchen, he stalks out onto the terrace, inhaling the cool air in the attempt to get his terrible mood under control.
Quiet steps draw close as Alain joins him.
"They're driving me crazy," Pike says. "And that's their plan. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to live with the pressure." Esteban is one thing; having Nogura also in open opposition is definitely tipping the scale against him.
"What would be your alternatives? Another job?"
"Back then, I thought about resigning from Starfleet - to stay with you."
"I remember," Alain says.
"Went as far as applying for jobs in the private sector, even had two interviews." Pike looks into the dark, arms tightly laced.
"And a pretty backhanded reply you got from me, didn't you?" Alain says, putting his hands on Pike's shoulders to massage him gently. "I would never have asked for your resignation. I knew Starfleet is basically your life."
"Maybe it's time for a life outside of Starfleet," Pike says, although he can't picture it yet. Sitting alone on a farm waiting for the people he loved… no thanks. And what else could he do with his health that could break down any second if something went wrong?
"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself," Alain speaks aloud what Pike thinks.
"Maybe I'd just need someone to teach me that," Pike mutters, not sure who he's actually speaking about. He can't imagine spending his life with Alain - or could he? As long as he's asking himself that question, Alain is the wrong guy.
But he has the same misgivings about Dael. Even the doc - Lord knows whether they'd really be right for each other in a day-to-day life, with petty everyday problems like hairs in the shower and work routines in conflict. And right now, with the distance and some hurt feelings between them, they're not right for each other at all.
"Maybe I just need to spread my own wings a little," Pike says, looking down to the street.
"Huh?" Alain says, his grip on Pike's shoulders tightening.
"No, not like that," Pike appeases him, looking around to meet his once-ex-now-again lover's eyes. "Just… I don't know, think outside the box some more. There's got to be more to life than what I have right now."
"There is, Chris. So much more." If you just saw it, swings in Alain's words.
Pike knows his friend is right - but he doesn't have the energy right now to reach out for it. Not on his own, at least, and so he only leans back wordlessly.
Alain takes this as the end of discussion and pulls him inside for a full body massage, caressing his brooding thoughts away for the night.
*
Asimov and he still surf the boards over lunch two times a week, waiting for an answer from T'Anihl, reading through forum entries, and discussing Romulan politics although that species becomes less important to Pike with every day that the smoldering conflict with the Klingons lasts and the Pathfinder launch draws closer. At least it means taking a break from the stressful atmosphere of other meetings, the endless criticism from Nogura who seems to find something wrong in every report lately. If he'd thought he'd been on Nogura's bad side before, now he learns what that really feels like.
"If you really cared for your career," Pike says at one time, "you would stop working with me."
Asimov looks startled for a moment, then squarely faces him. "If I cared for my career, maybe I'd listen to friendly suggestions from certain people. But frankly, I don't. I've been on probation for a while; if Starfleet thinks it doesn't need my knowledge, I'll always be able to find something outside the organization."
"Yes, I guess you would."
"As you would, sir," Asimov says seriously.
"I will consider my options in time," Pike says, wondering if anyone listened to the cam's recording, not putting it beyond Nogura to have him under surveillance by now. Between the accusations of betraying fleet secrets and abusing his rank for sexual services, he's also the partner of a captain who, after signing a first complaint, added a second, even sharper one with a detailed analysis by Spock on the tactical errors in the HQ orders. It's too well-done to get swept under the rug - and that wouldn't have been possible anyway as Kirk had been intelligent enough to send it to all admirals and captains. It's causing quite an earthquake within Starfleet at the moment.
Pike smiles at the thought. He'd congratulated Kirk on the complaint and its effects, and while the reply had been brief, it had been signed with Love, Jim. Things are still strained, but there's hope they'll get back to the relationship they had during their vacation - one day, when they're together again. The doc had sent nothing but a picture that had been taken on Earth, a Chris&Leonard shot which is both heart-warming and frustrating, and Pike had saved it away with every intention not to look at it for a while.
"Let's return to that complicated poem from last week," Pike says, pulling himself out of his thoughts to address Asimov. "Even though I've got all the words by now, their symbolism goes right over my head…"
He never asks about that morbid "sacrifice of birds" poem Dael had brought up back then.
*
Farnham bribes him with lunch in a new, but already famous restaurant, and Pike enjoys a great meal over which they don't speak about Alain at all and Dael only a little. Instead, Farnham speaks about Eric and their vague plans of moving in together.
"Oh, by the way -" Farnham says when they're out on the street. "Maybe you shouldn't surf that board quite so often."
Pike feels like he’s been punched in the guts, stopping mid-step.
"You know which one I mean," Farnham says lightly. "It's not quite the place a respectable Starfleet member should hang around… and neither should a lieutenant that's on probation."
Pike shakes his head. "So you're back on spying on my activities?" he says flatly.
"I'm not," Farnham says. "Only got a call from a friend of a friend…"
"You know I surf it because of Dael?"
"I guessed as much. That still doesn't mean you should get overly affiliated with that board."
"Or…?" Pike says dangerously quiet.
"Damn, Chris," Farnham says exasperated. "I only wanted to warn you - it's not about me, but you. I want you to stay in your job."
"You're the only one lately." Pike straightens his shoulders. "What the fuck." He turns and walks away, glad that Farnham gives up after one half-hearted call.
What the fuck.
*
"I got promoted," Cho says when they've established the line on this beautiful sunny morning, golden rays dancing over the walls of Pike's office. "As of next month, I'm in charge of half of the terminals of Utopia Planitia."
"Congratulations," Pike says. "I always knew you'd have a great career. I can't wait for the day when all of UP is yours."
"Should happen within the next five years," Cho says with a grin, but he knows she's serious.
"Who'll be in charge of terminal 14 and the refit project then?" he asks.
"Commander Rosen." Cho nods in commiseration as Pike can't resist drawing a face. In the various meetings where Rosen had participated, she'd tended to speak in favor of Esteban's preferences, and having her in charge now would weaken Pike's influence on the team's decisions further. "I tried to keep them from promoting her, but she was the logical choice. I'm sorry."
"I'm sure she earned her promotion," he says controlled. "She's good at what she's doing." Including the moments when she wins in discussions against Pike.
"I'm going to miss our chats," Cho says.
"You could still call me once in a while," Pike replies, but they both know that with their tight schedules, keeping in contact outside of joint projects would be unlikely.
Cho smiles. "You know where to find me too. I'm sure your project will keep UP busy in the future."
When she signs off, he reclines in his chair, curling his hands in his lap. Another brick in the wall, the lyrics comes up unasked. Or maybe more of another plank being pulled out from beneath his feet. Ironic that now that his legs had stopped giving in, his position is the more fragile, unstable thing.
He gets up and walks to the restroom, bathing his face in cool water.
"Are you feeling well, sir?" someone says and he turns to find McAllister, one of Nogura's deputies.
"Of course," Pike says instantly. He hadn't forgotten the strange meeting with this man, and wouldn't want to give him another opening for criticism.
"I only ask because you look so pale." McAllister lets a beat pass. "Must be hard to know that without modern medicine, one would be dead already."
There isn't a single day on which Pike doesn't reflect on the sad truth that without his carefully leveled medication, he'd neither be able to get out of bed nor work on a regular base, but that's not McAllister's business.
"Isn't that what's modern medicine supposed to be for?" Pike says coolly.
"Of course. But all the long meetings, all the long workdays… I'm surprised how well you deal with it. Usually, Medical is quick to order people on leave, and few of those with brain injuries return to full duty as you did."
Pike dries his face with a paper towel. "Chalk it up to my being an old, stubborn SOB."
"I do," McAllister says with a strange smile. "Good day, sir."
Pike goes home very late that night.
*
The SOB attitude is good and fair, but unfortunately his body isn't up to that anymore, no matter how much Pike would love to ignore that. And so it doesn't take long before his body complains in a very specific and agonizing way, landing him painfully on his knees in the middle of the kitchen. At least he doesn't have anything in his hands when it happens.
"What was that?" Alain asks him wide-eyed as he helps him up from the floor.
"Just my brain acting up," Pike says, shakily sitting down on the second-best chair and burying his face in both hands. "It was going so well. Shit." He's close to tears, a suffocating lump stuck in his throat. "I can't believe this is happening again."
Alain wordlessly holds him until the trembling subsides, and Pike doesn't know whether he really wants that or not. It couldn't just be that he's unable to function without someone holding his hand, be it Dael or Alain. He was stronger than that. He hates his weakness, and that he's tired and frustrated enough to think about giving up. He has to persist. He just has to.
They eat and go to bed. For a while, Pike is still in his gloomy mood, but in the end he's able to admit to himself that he's grateful to curl up against his lover, enjoying the gentle, calming caresses.
"Maybe it really would be best to do something else," Alain says quietly. "Resign and move to the countryside, buy a farm as you dream about. You don't need to work. You could have a good life."
Pike doesn't answer.
"I've talked to the specialist on organized crime you connected me with. I'll be able to make a deal, but I'll have to vanish for a few months. We could run off for a while." It's the first time Alain makes any allusion to a possible future together.
"I can't." Pike pulls away. He'd made a promise to Dael, and he intends to keep it, even if he might be a fool for waiting.
"Okay," Alain replies.
*
"How do you feel?" Naaz asks him two weeks later when he sees her for his regular check-up.
"Fine," he says. His brain scans look good, he's an expert on them by now.
She doesn't look at the images at all though, only at his face. "You look pale. Did you have any neural lapses? Your knees give in?"
"No," he lies.
"I had a look at the data from the sensor bracelet. You didn't sleep a lot lately."
"I've got a lot of work… and a sex life."
She smiles at him. "Oh, is Dael back?"
"Not yet, but soon," he says, avoiding a straight answer.
"I see, someone else joining the club." Naaz takes the news in a stride. "Well, then I'll let you return to your busy life. Take care, Chris, and see you in a month."
"Yes, thanks," he says and leaves her, putting on his knee protectors in the restroom before leaving the building. Given that he'd taken another two falls already, it's just too risky to go without.
*
Esteban once again signs a new feature for implementation and testing that Pike had been sure they'd agreed to keep out of the next round, obviously no longer feeling the need to pass it by Nogura's office. Pike lets it slip; it doesn't really make much difference, as one of Nogura's assistants would surely sign it anyway.
In a sharply worded message, internal controlling complains about his overuse of 'fleet communication channels, although he hadn't even called the Enterprise lately.
On the next morning, the coffeemaker on his floor breaks and the technician that gets generously tipped by Pike to adjust the settings to his personal preferences is on vacation. Consequently, the espresso is reminiscent of colored water for god knows how many days.
Pike wonders if anyone has hexed him.
*
"Chris, would you have a minute?" On Friday afternoon, the face of Captain Illyon of the Endeavour surprisingly fills his screen. He hadn't heard from his old academy friend since his failed attempt to get Dael assigned to her ship, and he stares in concern at the strangely decorative bruise on her forehead.
"Mori - I thought you were still on your explorative mission and out of direct communication range. What happened?"
"We have new orders, moved into another sector. Had a little run-in with the Romulans too." She coughs, and it sounds painful. "A certain someone is a little out of her mind in the HQ, and I think I'll give Kirk a call later. But first, I need your help. We're in dire need of a specialist for Romulan affairs. I heard you had one working for you but he's not really to be trusted…?"
Pike shakes his head. "I don't know who's been your informer but Nicolai Asimov is a fine officer. He's taken up the rather unsatisfying assignment of brushing up my Romulan, and he does a great job at it. If you're in need of someone who doesn't just speak Romulan but also knows what makes them tick, absolutely go for him." He hesitates for a moment. "Of course, that's only my opinion. I guess if you asked the Head of Linguistics, you might get some more official information."
"If you vouch for him, that's enough for me," Illyon says without hesitation.
She's quite in the minority with that opinion by now, and it makes Pike nostalgic.
"I'm going to contact him tomorrow for a transfer request. Today, I'm a little busy." She rubs her face with one bandaged hand.
"Your little run-in - how bad?" Pike asks.
She smiles crookedly. "Nine dead, main power grid fused to modern art. It's been a damn shit. Thanks a lot, Chris, I'm in your debt."
"Even double by now." He smirks, then sobers. "Mori - take care, please. I really don't want to attend your memorial service."
"I know. Though I remember that you look fabulous in black. Better than in white." She waves and signs off, leaving him wondering whether she is trying to tell him something here.
In any case - it's a relief to know that Asimov will be off-planet soon, heading out with a good captain and crew.
*
The one redeeming thing in his life at the moment is Alain, and Pike is determined to make the best of their time together. They beam to his club on Friday night again, after a nice dinner at home with a tad of white wine, just enough to keep Pike's med app quiet. It's a great evening, and Pike is relaxed and touchy-feely, by his standards. They hang out at the bar for some time, where one of the guests tells an incredible story about a one-night-stand with a Tellarite, his almost theatrical performance cracking up everyone in his audience.
Pike laughs too, then slings one arm around Alain's hip before leaning over for a kiss, ready to move on with the evening program and whispering as much into his lover's ear. But when he pulls back, he freezes as he looks right into Esteban's eyes. He unlaces from Alain and straightens up.
"Sir," the captain says stiffly.
"What are you doing here?" Pike asks.
"A friend of mine wanted something special for his bachelor party," Esteban says with the expression of a man who'd been forced here at gunpoint. "You're here to meet friends…?" His gaze drifts over Alain.
Maybe that would be the moment for a good lie, but that's not Pike's style. "I own this club," he says. Esteban's eyes widen, the man's mouth curling in disgust. "Explains a lot," Esteban says, and that's the point when Pike has enough.
"A word with you, Captain," Pike states icily, giving Alain an apologizing nudge on the shoulder before walking aside with Esteban.
"This won't do," he says as they're face to face in the half-shadows. "It's obvious that we're unable to return to a functioning professional relationship." He doesn't say you are, it wouldn't help a thing. This isn't just about Esteban but also about Nogura's and Shaa's behavior as of late and the whole damn fucked-up situation he's in, partly due to his own faults, partly steered into by the currently dominant forces. He doesn't need to wait until Nogura finds a reason to dispose of him. He would become a privateer by his own decision. "We're done."
Esteban looks at him with a face suddenly drained of all color, probably expecting to get booted out of the Pathfinder's captaincy.
"On Monday, I'll tell Nogura I'll resign," Pike keeps going. "Chances are the task force will merge into Ship Operations anyway, so Shaa will take over."
Esteban shakes his head. "Sir - I didn't intend -"
Pike waves his hand, interrupting him. "If you didn't, then you're a clueless idiot and that's not befitting for a man who'll play an important role in the future of the Federation. My decision stands, and don't think this is just about you, Esteban. You're not that important to me."
Esteban's jaw clenches as the man tries to summon a good reply.
"And as you don't want to be here anyway, I'm asking you to leave now." Pike doesn't care that he might spoil somebody's party over it; he's had enough of the man and doesn't plan to have another bad night because of an asshole who can't tolerate other people's lifestyle. "Get out of here, Captain," he orders sharply as Esteban opens his mouth.
That finally does the trick. "Yes, sir," the man snaps and turns on his heel, taking a second to inform his friend before leaving alone.
Alain joins his side, cautiously touching his arm. "Trouble?"
"Not anymore," Pike says, taking in the enormous feeling of relief over finally having made a decision.
*
It's a wonderful Saturday morning, the sun is bright, the smell of coffee lingering in the air, and Pike feels light-headed and relaxed for the first time in months. The feeling of relief from the evening before is still full-fledged, and there's not one thought of taking his statement back. He's going to resign. It's not a hard decision, looking at the facts, and he can't quite fathom why it had taken him so long to reach it. It would end the daily agony, the conflict about Dael's status, the loyalty problems he might cause for his men. He takes a quick shower, gets his bathrobe, and looks out for his cohabitant.
Alain stands in the kitchen, greeting him with a kiss and a cup full of the hot, dark brew.
"You're looking good this morning," Alain says. "Happy."
"It was a great evening," Pike says. He's not going to speak about the resignation before it's done, which should be by Monday evening. It would be a nice surprise, hopefully - but this time he's not doing this for Alain, he's doing it for himself first, and for the people he loves second.
He quickly empties the cup and gives it to Alain for a refill.
"I don't think you need it," Alain says softly.
"Hmm?" Pike looks up at him. Something is strange, his world slightly wavering and shifting as if set to the wrong optical filters. He blinks, wondering whether something is wrong with his eyesight, but the world keeps changing.
"I'm sick of watching you fighting it, Chris. Never being the man you could be, only the man they want you to be. Tied up in your memories, the things that have been done to you. It's time someone does something about it."
"What did you do?" Pike says in disbelief as realization trickles into his mind like a liquid over the edge of a table.
"Just a little relaxant in your coffee," Alain says. "You'll be fine, more than fine. Just come with me." Pike is unable to resist when Alain walks around the table and pulls him up, directing him to the bedroom. His lover puts him into the chair at first, rummaging around on the bed. Pike's world is blurred and worse, he seems unable to parse what he sees through the unclear colors. Only when Alain removes his bathrobe and puts him down on the bed does he notice the medical restraints that wait for him. A sudden panic rises, but gets strangely stuck on the way, lingering beneath the surface like a swarm of fish under a cover of frozen ice.
"Why…?" Pike manages to whisper as Alain straps him down, his voice unreal in his own ears. It's that position, that kind of belt around his waist, and he freaks out, mute little fishes gaping against the layer of silence. His ankles and wrists are fixed and he's back there and he's going crazy, starting to see it all again, the high ceilings of meandering metal, dark, wet and intimidating.
"I've read the report," Alain says and kneels over him, caressing his face through the layers of shadows that creep in. "I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing it for you. Believe me, Chris, please believe me. I never wanted to work for him but he blackmailed me. This is my way to apologize. I'm going to set you free." The hands are everywhere now, like soft winds above the ice, the sweetness of spring.
Him? A question drifts, inexpressible.
"Going to bring down these walls you've built. Going to make you feel again." Alain's lips are soft on his, and the fish's frantic little zig-zag turns to cycles, hypnotic and pacifying. Slowly his blurred world turns sweet and erotic, tinged in colors of the rainbow that break through the blue.
"Open your mouth, yes, let it flow…" Things run down his throat, slick and slimy and he laughs about the strangeness, the way everything suddenly floats, light and free. He's flying, nothing can hold him back, not the ties, not the blade that runs over his skin. He's free to go wherever he wants, can love whoever he wants. There are sparkles, more rainbows, piles upon piles of them like ribbons braided around him. Then all of him expands like one red giant, an exploding star of light brilliant and beautiful in its destruction.
*
He wakes up in a full bath tub without remembering how he'd gotten there, the water cool and a little dirtier than it should be. With shaky legs, he gets up and showers, then leaves the bathroom to find out where Alain is.
His lover lies on his stomach on the rather messy bed, and for a moment Pike wonders if he'd only dreamed it all, but then he sees the medical restraints piled on the floor.
Pike heavily sits down on the bed. "Why, Alain?"
His friend rolls onto his back, the gaze from green eyes slowly focusing on him.
"I did it for you," Alain says dreamily. "Wanted to help you break the cycle. Start living again."
"By drugging me and doing… whatever you did?" Pike says, staring down his chest where angry red lines signal a knife's paths.
"You just took it. Didn't panic at all. Tied you down, fed you things. You didn't freak out. You're healed. You're free. They can't hurt you anymore." Alain gives him an angelic smile, and Pike realizes that his crazy ex must have taken a hefty dose of this or another drug himself.
"Get out of here," he forces out of his throat, which hurts for no definite reason, or at least none he wants to remember. "Get. Out."
Alain struggles to his feet. "You're angry. Ah, don't be, Chris. You'll be fine. Trust me. It's the only thing that ever helped me. Therapists don't change shit. I'm better than them."
"You're mad," Pike mutters, pressing his hands onto his eyes against a sudden onslaught of colors, bright drops hanging in the air in front of him like balloons that pulse in time with his heartbeat.
"No worse than you," Alain says, dressing up in erratic movements. "You'll thank me one day, Chris. Not today, not tomorrow, but you will." He bends over and takes Pike into a shaky embrace, managing to kiss him before Pike can escape the touch.
"Didn't love you back then. I tried but I couldn't, you just never let me in. Tonight, man," Alain says and points his finger at him, "tonight you were perfect. Open and flying, Chris."
Pike shakes his head, a manic laugh tickling in his chest because really, things like this just don't happen to men his age. This is the playground of drunken teenagers, who'd later say you wanted it too, didn't you, not a forty-plus year old stoned ex telling him he's perfect when drugged to the gills and tied up against his will.
Alain pulls on his shoes. "Keep that feeling, Chris. Keep flying. Don't let him pull you down, don't let him win."
"Who's he?" Pike asks but Alain has just steps out into the corridor, not hearing his question. He tries to get up from the bed but he can't, his legs on strike. "Alain - who's he?" he shouts, his mind momentarily clearing. He'd thought Alain means Esteban but suddenly he doubts it. He remembers something about a report; it must have been his own report, or how could Alain have known all those Narada details he had barely shared with anyone? "You owe me an explanation."
Alain reappears in the doorway. "You'll find out, Chris. You're clever." Then he vanishes again, and seconds later, the main door opens and closes.
"You bastard," Pike calls after him in vain, then curls on the bed, swept away by a sudden rebound of the drug.
*
He wakes up hours later, at a time which he soon identifies as Sunday evening. With effort, he gets to the bathroom, waking up slightly after a slosh of cold water in his face. When he looks into the mirror, he sees a ghostly white face, so he rather looks down on his chest, putting some synthoskin on the deepest, still bleeding cuts with trembling fingers. Then he walks into the kitchen, carefully placing his feet because the floor still seems to tilt at times. There's water and coffee and he's not too sure whether he should be glad when his head clears a little and the memories of the evening return.
If anyone tested his blood right now, he'd be in for a reprimand. Or worse, this would make a perfect headline for the yellow press, "Admiral caught with illegal drug". Thinking of testing - his medical bracelet is gone. He finds it in the bedroom, cut open although it could've been removed without force. The knife that was used is still on the floor, and Pike picks it up, vaguely remembering the blade on his chest and how strangely unreal and painless each cut had felt.
A sound suddenly tingles in the air, and he needs a moment to locate it. He sits down, accepting the call without visuals.
"Chris, Naaz here. Are you all right?"
"Always," he says, another hysteric laugh threatening to escape and not making it. "Just not looking presentable."
"I'm a little concerned. Seems you're not wearing your medical bracelet?"
"Yes, it got ruined during, uh, sports."
He can positively feel her smirk through the line. "Do you want to get a new one delivered to you or will you come and pick it up?"
He rubs his thumb over one of the cuts on his chest. "I'm busy tomorrow. How about picking it up Tuesday evening?"
"Fine. You should be able to survive without it for a day or two."
The synthoskin on one cut rolls off a little, a smudged red underneath it.
"Really, is everything all right?" Naaz asks again.
"Yes. See you on Tuesday," Pike says and closes the line. The cut bleeds, although it's not very deep and already a few hours old. Strange, he thinks, but then Tom calls and he decides to put another stripe of synthoskin over it and let it rest while trying to calm down his concerned almost-nephew who'd been trying to reach him since Friday. Naaz could always have a look at it in two days.
He's soon in bed again, and the vague memories meld into dreams like black and white chocolate, Alain's self-satisfied smile lingering above it all.
*
When he gets up on Monday morning, the whole mess feels distanced, as if it had happened to someone else. It's a sentiment Pike can run with, considering that he has no inclination to see himself as a victim. He thinks about his resignation during the ride, wondering if he, whoever that guy is specifically (if he even existed beyond Alain's drugged brain), would win if he did, deciding at last that it doesn't matter. He's tired of being the pawn in all of this; this would be the last round of suffering for an organization that had moved away from what he'd seen in it.
Once he's in the office, Pike sends a note to Nogura asking for a personal meeting ASAP, but it's answered negatively with a vague suggestion of an afternoon time. This leaves Pike to live through yet another task force meeting. It's weirdly amusing to discuss topics that he knows will be off his desk by the same time tomorrow, but he doesn't let his decision show through the interaction with his team. He also ignores the looks Esteban throws his way, and gives him the cold shoulder when the captain wants to have a word in private during their short coffee break. There's nothing left to discuss, and he instead focuses on getting some of their tasks off the table; Shaa should see that he'd done good work while he'd lasted, Pike thinks ironically.
The meeting quickly moves along due to Thelin's talent for bringing even the most heated discussion back to the point. It's already twelve-thirty when Pike next looks at the time. He's feeling a little light-headed and is looking forward to a lunch with Asimov that might be their last, so he decides to wrap up the meeting after one more topic.
"I suggest -" he starts and looks up from his PADD, stopping when he notices the others staring at him. At his face, to be exact, and only now does he feel a wetness pooling above his upper lip.
Reflexively, he wipes one forefinger through it, and it comes back bright red.
"I guess that means we need to discuss the last point at another time," Pike says calmly. It's just a nosebleed, why the hell are people staring at him as if he's going to die?
Out of habit he rotates his chair and gets up to show out his visitors, and of course that's a mistake. He doesn't really fall - it's more of a slow slide down until his knees hit the carpeted floor, and he's glad he doesn't crash into the table. His eyes stray downward, and the blood is really damn red on his white-grey uniform while the PADD on the ground next to him flashes in all colors of the rainbow, strangely reminiscent of his drug trip. There's a flurry of activity exploding around him, hands on his shoulders, calls being made, and he makes a dismissive hand-sign, it's all okay with my brain, he thinks, it's all fine, but the words don't come out anymore.
*
Onto Part 9