Remember the Morning || (Slightly Future) Self-Para
"God damn it!"
That had to be the hundredth time he'd shouted that during his stay in the arena. Jim swatted the offending branch out of the way with a huff. Everything that he'd found mildly tolerable was now unbearably annoying. He hit the side of his head again, trying to kill whatever insects were flying around him. His hand twitched. The cut from the orangutan from hell was starting to become very irritated (Bones was going to have his ass for that) and it wouldn't stop feeling itchy. Instead, he slapped the offending area. Hard.
He sighed in relief as the very mild twinges of pain drowned out the need to scratch his skin raw. He'd always liked that trick. It usually worked for long enough and didn't do any permanent damage.
Plop!
Jim paused, looking up into the canopy. It was nearly night so everything was cast into subdued light. He knew he needed to find a place to rest but at the same time, he didn't want to. There were too many creatures and "villains" around to make him feel comfortable sleeping. He'd managed to catch an hour or two each day in the canopy. That kept him going for long enough. He was fine, absolutely fine.
Plop!
He raised a hand in the air and was met with cool liquid.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter...
"...You're shitting me."
Torrential downpour!
"God fucking damnit!" His shout sent animals fleeing and, had it been any other time, he would've laughed and he would've kept shouting. But right now, he was wandering a rainforest where the clouds finally decided to let loose at least five gallons of water onto his head. Damn it...
Jim couldn't help but shiver slightly. He'd come into the arena with a light jacket, but had quickly ripped it apart and discarded it for bandages and to lose the extra layer of clothing because damn, it was hot and humid. At this point, he was just thankful that the canopy was so dense. He'd be thoroughly soaked within the hour, but at least it would actually take an hour.
He continued walking through the forest, mindful of roots and rocks on the forest floor just waiting to trip him. Chekov was looking for him and they didn't really have a good idea of where the other could be. For all he knew, he could be walking in the opposite direction that the little Russian was going in! They really should've planned this out better or asked for help from everyone in the mans-
Snap!
Jim stopped, head snapping up towards the noise. It was hard to figure out where it came from because of the rain, but he had a general idea. Slowly, he crept towards the nearest tree and pressed his back against the bark. He hissed when it made contact with the gash across his back, but managed to stay quiet for the most part.
"...Who's there?" a voice called out. Jim froze.
I know that voice. Where have I heard that voice? Damn, it sounds so familiar and I can't remember-
"S-Show yourself!"
I've heard that stutter, I know it and why can't I place it?
"N-Now!"
"N-Now get back here you little git! Drop the knife or-or I'll do it!"
...It's him.
An indescribable rage filled Jim to his very core. This man, this fucking monster, was one of the many factors contributing to their separation. This wannabe Death Eater had killed three of his kids while he'd been helpless to do anything but watch. Jim never knew why the hell he'd been in Tarsus or why, but he was and he was a fucking suck-up to Kodos and it was sickening.
Abandoning all sense of stealthy and logic, Jim burst out from behind the foliage and tackled the man to the ground. "You sick fuck!" he shouted. Each word was articulated by a punch. "You killed them! You fucking killed my kids and for what? You're precious Kodos is dead and you're stuck in this shithole like the rest of us!" Jim stood, picking the smaller man up by his collar as he did so. He harshly slammed the wizard into a nearby tree, earning a satisfying gasp from the man. "Do you remember me? Do you?!"
"I-I don't k-know what you're t-talking about!" he squeaked. Jim dropped the man, only to have his elbow meet the other's throat.
"Let's try this again," he whispered harshly. "Do you remember me? I grew up, I'm alive. I'm not supposed to be, but I am because you failed. You're a screw-up and we both know it. And I think we both know that you know who I am. So I'll ask you one more time, do you remember me?"
He watched the man gulp and whimper. Pathetic. The wizard mumbled something under his breath, earning him a glare from Jim. "What did you say?"
"...ee..."
"What did you say?" he shouted, applying more pressure on his arm. The smaller man gasped and began clawing at the appendage that kept him captive. He tried to look for mercy, but was met with cold blue eyes.
"J.T.!" he sputtered with the last amount of oxygen he had. Upon hearing the acronym, Jim released the man. The wizard panted, trying to regain his breath. He tried to pick himself up, but Jim quickly drew the knife from his boot.
"Stay down!" he yelled, pointing the weapon at the other's face. Another whimper made its way past trembling lips. "You're pathetic," Jim stated. "You had to pick on innocent children to make yourself feel powerful. Did it feel good? Did you enjoy killing them, my family? I cared about them, you know. I tried to protect them, be the older brother they never had." He paused, eyeing the man distrustfully. "But you took them away from me and took me away from them. Do you understand what it's like to find a family and have it all destroyed in front of your eyes. Do you?!" His voice reverberated off the trees and into the mountains. It was a question for all to hear.
"I-I don't know," the man replied. "P-please...just let me go on my way. I n-never wanted to be here..."
"Like hell I will!" Jim screamed. "I have every right to end you right here, right now. You took everything away from me, made me into this. You didn't have to be Kodos' bitch. You didn't have to torture me for days. You could've stopped at any time but you didn't and do you know why?" He let the question hang for a beat. "It's because you're a selfish bastard with nothing. You will never amount to anything and you're going to die in this arena." Before the wizard could react, Jim clenched a fistful of hair and yanked the man's head back. Clutching the knife, he put it against his captive's throat, malice burning in his eyes.
"Any last words, Pettigrew?" He spat the name out with such disgust, it made its possessor flinch under the scrutiny.
"P-please let me go!"
"Fuck you."
He was going to do it, he was finally going to rid this world of the man who caused him so much pain. That'd be one name off the list and it would be completely personal. He was ready to do it, he wanted to with every fiber of his being...but then he remembered Kev.
Kev always hated it when he did these things. Kev never wanted him to kill, even if it was necessary for survival. He knew how J.T. could be, knew how heartless and detached he'd become, so he put a stop to it.
"J.T.! It's not worth it! He didn't mean to hurt me! He has a family too!"
"Kev, don't you see? He was going to murder you!"
"So you murdered him? J.T., this isn't you and you know it. He was just trying to protect his family!"
"He was trying to kill you-"
"Listen to yourself! Look in that window! Do you see one of Kodos' Death Eaters? Do you see a guard? Because all I see is a girl no older than us without her dad! Look at what you've done! This is you now!"
"...Fuck this shit."
Pettigrew's eyes were firmly clenched shut. Fear made his body quiver and his fingers twitch. He'd accepted his fate, was ready for the end...
But the end wasn't ready for him.
Roughly, Jim shoved Pettigrew to the ground. Droplets of water dripped from the knife, now returned to the side of his body. Reluctantly, he wiped the liquid off the blade with his shirt and returned it to his boot. Slowly, Pettigrew met his eyes.
"Get the fuck out of my sight," Jim said, no emotion showing in his voice.
"Oh, thank you," the wizard whispered. "Thank you, thank you..."
He kicked the man.
"Fine, I'll fucking leave myself. I hope one of those ape-shit orangutans comes to beat the crap out of you."
Looking back on everything, turning his back was the first mistake. The second was putting his only weapon away when faced with an enemy.
The third was letting him go free.
"Incendio."
Jim stumbled backwards as flames engulfed the path he'd planned to take. Spinning around, he noticed a ring of fire encircling himself and Pettigrew. Oh shit, this was bad, this was really bad-
"Expulso!"
The blast threw Jim harshly into a tree, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Sliding to the ground, he struggled to regain his breath before another spell could be cast. Fire danced around him and he coughed harshly. The rain did nothing to quench the flames. Of course, magic was a bitch sometimes.
He knew Pettigrew, knew his style. He remembered Tarsus and he remembered what always came next.
"Crucio."
His body jerked and stiffened. It was agony, but it felt different. Khan's Crucio had been much worse. It told of someone who had nothing to lose and would take out everyone in his way because of that fact. Pettigrew's, while still incredibly painful, didn't feel as intense. He was scared and Jim could tell. This felt nothing like the sessions back in Tarsus did. This wasn't a man trying to prove his worth through heartlessness, this was a man who'd given up all hope.
Ok, maybe not all hope.
Jim never remembered anyone holding the curse over him for this long. He was biting the inside of his mouth and could feel the blood starting to seep out between his teeth. Khan had waited a decent amount of time before stopping. He could say with certainty that this was much longer than Khan's session.
He couldn't hold it in anymore. His mind gave in to the pain and he screamed. He screamed for his kids, for the ones they lost, and for the ones still suffering. He screamed for the Districts, for the rebels, for Chekov, for Bones, for Ember, for Fallon and Spencer and Damon and even Tony and Pepper and Natasha...
The pain wouldn't stop. He could feel the tears falling down his face, could feel his body seizing and his mind slipping away. He was so close to unconsciousness, but Pettigrew prevented it all. He could feel that smirk of satisfaction burning holes through his skull and that thought alone made him sick. He wouldn't be able to take this much longer.
And then it stopped.
Quickly, Jim rolled to his side and released whatever was left in his stomach. He gasped for breath and spit the blood out of his mouth. He nearly blacked out, if it weren't for the next bit of Latin to come out of his assailant's mouth.
"Sectumsepra."
It felt like a knife was being raked across his body. More agony, more scarring, just more pain. He wasn't going to stop himself from screaming anymore and scream he did. Blood soaked the ground beneath him, creating a sick muddy area around his body. It clung to his clothes, his skin, and it felt so wrong. He didn't know what kind of condition his body was in now, but it wasn't good. He was near his breaking point and it was bad.
"You like that one?" Pettigrew sneered. "Heard an acquaintance use it. As you can see, the results are quite interesting. Anything you'd like to add?"
Jim spit at the feet in front of him. Locking eyes with his torturer, he smirked. "Go fuck yourself. You look like you need it."
A swift kick to the chest had him nearly hacking up a lung.
"Tsk, tsk, still as rebellious as always. No matter, I can fix that."
Oh shit.
"Reducto.
There had been a fallen log nearby. He knew what the spell did. His body didn't want to react. Chips of wood impaled his skin and he just took the pain because it was all he could do. A larger piece slammed into his chest while another imbedded itself into his leg. This sucked, Coin was a bitch, and he was going to die.
No.
He wasn't going to die. Not like this, and not by this monster's hand. Pettigrew wasn't all that smart. In a real scenario, the torturer wanted a good five feet away from the victim. Why? Well...
With all the force he could muster, Jim swung his legs out. Pettigrew went down, his head smashing against the ground below. Fueled by adrenaline and the need to simply survive, Jim climbed to his feet and ran. Covering his face with his arms, he leapt through the fire and damn, it fucking burned. As fast as he could, he circled the area until he was behind Pettigrew. The wizard had already sat up and looked dumbly around for his prey. Idiot. The fire was working against its master.
With a cry, Jim burst out of his hiding place, once again exposing himself to the fire. Without hesitation, he drew his knife and slammed it into Pettigrew's chest. Blood that wasn't his decorated the ground.
Jim had always been one for caution. Without looking into the dying man's eyes, he slashed his knife across his throat. Warm blood spurted from the severed artery as Jim cleaned the blade and returned it to its housing.
And then he ran like hell.
He ran through the flames, through the brush, ran until he couldn't run anymore. He was breathing heavily, but he didn't care. He had to get away, to forget what he'd done and what just happened.
He collapsed no more than a minute later, falling flat on his stomach. An inhuman screech left his mouth and he quickly flipped onto his back. He paled at the sight that met him.
Two inches of wood greeted his eyes. It stuck right out of his chest. He coughed, feeling liquid in the back of his throat as he did so. He had enough sense to turn onto his side. He probably wasn't going to live and he couldn't have felt more empty.
Huh, I'm on the beach...
He could hear the waves lapping against the shore and the smell of salt assaulted his nose. That was probably the only thing he loved in District Four: the ocean. It held so many mysteries and good memories. It reminded him of space in the sense that it was highly unexplored.
He thought of Starfleet and different planets and cultures. He could see stars on the horizon and he smiled. He'd die with the stars, die like a star.
Some stars exploded when they died. Others simply expanded and released that energy in not a bang, but a whisper. That's how he'd go out.
So Jim Kirk watched the stars until his eyes felt heavy. He told himself he'd live amongst them and that he'd remember his friends when the time came. He promised to beat Pike at his own game. He devoted his love to the new family he'd made.
In the hours of daybreak, his eyes slipped shut. He felt at peace and, in the back of his mind, he felt no fear.
He didn't believe in no-win scenarios.
He'd be up by morning. No matter what, he always was.
Jim curled behind a rock, clutching his makeshift weapon close to his chest. He could here the weird monkey-thing scuffling around, looking specifically for him. This sucked, it really sucked.
Peaking out from his covering, he nearly jumped a bit upon the discovery that the angry primate was less than a meter away from him. Its back was facing his rock. Perfect.
Clutching one end of the vine, Jim stood and quickly chucked the rock attached to it. He threw it from the side, allowing the rock to catch around the creature's leg. Before the beast could fully comprehend what was happening, Jim gave the vine a strong tug. With a smirk, he watched as the monkey fell to the ground with a cry. His victory didn't last as long as he'd hoped, for the animal immediately locked eyes with his and let out an almighty shriek of rage. Jim winced and fought the urge to put his hands over his ears. Instead, he tried to get hold of another good sized rock or stick or something he could hold. There was always the knife he carried around in his boot, but it wouldn't do him any good unless the thing was literally on top of him. He needed a range attack, not hand-to-hand. Judging by the claws, it would rip him apart before his hand reached the knife's hilt.
He cursed under his breath, not finding anything that could be of use. There was only one thing he could do: run. With the monkey still shrieking behind him, Jim spun on his heel and ran like hell. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of orange. Shit, the thing was still following him. Why couldn't it pick on something else?
The forest floor suddenly became best friends with his face. Crap, how'd he miss the root clearly sticking up out of the ground? Spitting some dirt out of his mouth, he tried to stand and run again. However, something heavy landed on his back, pushing his face back into the dirt. Instincts kicked in from there.
Jim violently twisted his body, the sudden movement causing his assailant to lose balance and fall. It allowed him enough time roll onto his back before the thing was on him again. Clenching his hand into a fist, he launched his arm into an arc. His fist connected with the beast's temple and within seconds, Jim was up and running again. Something slashed at his back as he dove through some plants.
"Shit!" he couldn't help but scream as he continued running. He was close to mentally laughing his ass off just thinking about how Bones' face would look when he returned.
But right now, he had more important things to deal with. The orange monkey-monster was his main issue and he wanted to resolve that as soon as possible.
