— closed

[itio]

Who: James T. Kirk & Edward Little
What: Edward reached out after Jim's note on the message board, so Jim's getting in touch
When: After the Darkwalker attack
Where: Edward's cabin

Content Warnings: Talk of character death, probable talk of the Darkwalker attacks


[ It almost seems fated that the Darkwalker would show up again just after Jim pins that note about La'an. Understandably, it takes the attention of everyone in Milton, and Jim ends up busy the next few days, adding the concern of the latest attack and the town meeting on top of the already basic worries about food, supplies and a place to stay.

He's far from settled in, but he makes enough time to follow the directions to the cabin, so he can meet the second person to reply to his note. This is important, after all. It's still freezing cold, Jim's still not used to it, but he has managed to get a few more layers, which he's now wearing as he knocks on the door. His face and nose are a little red, he's wrapped in a couple of makeshift scarves and the thickest coat he could find, wearing a pair of dusty old gloves and some worn boots. It's not ideal, but at least he hasn't lost sensation in his extremities yet.

Once the door opens, he quickly asks, voice trembling just slightly. ]

Edward Little? I'm James Kirk.

Comments

[itio]

[ Yeah, she was a stubborn one. Jim can't really talk, to be fair. Were he in her situation, he'd have done exactly the same.

His eyes follow Edward as he gets to his feet, nodding. After getting the watch from Fraser, he's almost afraid to see what Edward's going to show him. All the little things she's left behind, small memories to be cherished by the people here who remember her so fondly. Everything that's left of her, now.

Jim uses the moment he has to be on his own to take a breath, steel himself for it. He didn't manage that much with Fraser and ended up having a breakdown, and he really doesn't want that happening again.

It's a good thing Jim takes the time to prepare for it. When Edward comes back out and shows him the badge, Jim feels his heart lurch up to his throat, hesitant even as he reaches out for it. ]

Yes. It's... her Starfleet badge. It's the insignia for the fleet she belonged to. [ He presses his thumb against it, pressing his lips in. ] It was important to her.

[fidior]

[ He'd taken the item out a few times over the past months, when everything tipped forwards into darkness, and this place gave him a shadowed double that followed him everywhere, reminded him of all of the worst parts of himself. That figure had appeared so shortly after La'an's death, and Edward hadn't shunned it. He'd accepted it, that dark twin. And slowly, over time, it had drained him. He'd let that happen too.

But he'd been able to dwell on things, to sit at the kitchen table with this little box opened, staring down at the reminder of the woman he feels he failed. Now, after coming out of that odd fog, it's been harder to look at the thing. He's kept it locked away. Sometimes he thinks it was easier when he was so close to just... letting go of himself completely. Remaining strong is difficult. He isn't quite certain he knows how to be, anymore.

In fact, this is the first time he's touched that box in some weeks, and he holds a quiet breath of his own as he watches the other man take the item, look it over. He recognises it, and it wounds him. Edward nods softly, eyes cast downwards for a moment. ]

There are some of us here who specifically seek to... keep order. Lieutenant Noonien-Singh was one of them. I had thought that perhaps... someday, we might form a headquarters, and we could keep this badge there to be honoured. As a reminder of her bravery, and that we must hold steadfast to keeping this community safe.

[ But now... Edward sighs, shoulders slumping a little. So much has... crumbled. So much is wrong. ]

....With the recent attack, with those poor four men taken, I... I fear I do not know if anything can truly help the people here. Can truly protect them. Perhaps staying safe in this place is an impossible task.

[itio]

[ Staying strong in the face of loss is a difficult thing to manage. Jim would like to say he's never had to deal with that before, but unfortunately this isn't the first time that he's lost someone. It's all at once better and worse that he wasn't even here when it happened. Would it have made a difference, would he have been able to stop it from happening? Maybe not, but he could have tried.

He definitely feels the urge to spiral into a pit of guilt and shame over it, and he can only imagine that feeling's worse for those close to her who were actually here when it happened. But he needs to remind himself, like he has many times before: giving into that feeling just isn't an option. ]

There's always something that can be done to help.

[ He says that in a resolute, steadfast way. Maybe they will all die, that's a definite possibility. But Jim isn't ever going to sink into that thought; he's never going to give up on hope, on fighting for everyone's safety.

His thumb traces the edge of the insignia, and he takes a slow breath as he sets it back into the box, returning it to Edward. ]

If you ever do decide to go ahead with that plan, you can count me in. For whatever you need.

[fidior]

[ Ordinarily, Edward would be deeply ashamed to voice such a despondent thought — that there may be nothing that can be done, to help these people. To help anything. He'd clung so hard onto hope for so long... been driven by it, by the steadfast beating of his own heart, the reliance upon his own sense of hope. To admit that he doubts it now.... Some part of him doesn't feel right, about it.

But it's so easy to look at it that way, now. So easy to realise how foolish he's been, to think that anything he could possibly do would be enough to truly help anyone. And yet... hearing the other man say those words...

'There's always something that can be done to help.'

His heart wants to cling onto them. To believe them, and to act on them. It's still there inside of him, even if this place has so freshly challenged it, and stripped him nearly bare. Hope.

Edward stares at the other man for a long moment, eyes round and wide and wet, and it's only when Jim moves to return the box to him that he finds words of his own again. ]

Thank you. Your strength would be an asset to this community. I have no doubts of that, Mr. Kirk.

[ For all that this man seems to have gone through, and to still be so strong in the face of it... to want to help even as he mourns the loss of someone... it speaks much to his character. Edward dips his head slightly, looking down at the box, brushing his own thumb lightly against it. ]

But if you should wish to keep this in your possession, then please— I would be happy to pass it to your care.

[ He nods, meaning it; the item belonged to someone Jim knew, someone he lost more than anyone here. If it might bring his heart some ounce of peace, he should certainly have it — certainly have that choice. ]

[itio]

[ Even in his darkest days, Jim hasn't ever lost hope. Or, well, he may have gotten close to it, but as a ship Captain, he knows that his attitude will shift the morale of his crew, so he can't waver when it comes to that. Here is no different, the way he sees it. If anything, it's more needed than ever, given their circumstances.

And Edward has no idea how hard it all is, for him. Not just because of La'an's loss, but now being forced to live when knowing that back in his reality, he's dead. Actually, knowing that his reality may not even exist anymore to begin with. Like being in limbo for however long he's here. ]

I can only hope it'll make a difference.

[ It can be tough, with a big group of people; even more difficult when they're all from such different realities. ]

No. She gave it to you, so you should keep it. [ He smiles faintly. ] Besides, I liked that idea of yours. So let's maybe work towards that.

[fidior]

[ 'Limbo' would be an apt term for how Edward feels, as well. It's... strange, the awareness that a person is dead. While he may not know the exact nature of his own death, he knows now that no one survived the Expedition. History has said as much — he, and the rest of his men, are only ghosts.

It's become so easy to think that nothing matters anymore. That everyone he has grown to care about here are destined to become ghosts as well. La'an, those four men in the church... who else will meet their ends in this impossible place? Alone and frightened and helpless? He's tired, he's so tired of losing people.

But there are still people to protect. Still people for Lieutenant Little to protect. It's what he has to remind himself of again and again and again.

He gives a soft nod, and slowly closes the box, returning it to his lap. The item feels like it belongs to more than just himself. Like it belongs to this entire community. But he can be its safe-keeper. ]

I should like that, Mr. Kirk. I think the people of this community would benefit from seeing it on display someday. There aren't many personal items to be found here, so.... this badge is a precious thing. [ He offers a small, sad smile of his own. ] Thank you again.

[itio]

[ Feels like they're all ghosts here, sometimes. It's a thought that Jim doesn't say out loud. He knows morale is crucial in situations like this, and besides, it doesn't really matter what they may have left behind: they are here now, they're alive. Survival is worth fighting for. ]

I know it is.

[ And he knows that Edward understands the value of such an item. Jim would have nothing to do with it, and at this point, he feels like Edward needs it far more than Jim does. It's motivation, it's purpose. A goal to work towards. ]

No, thank you. For telling me a little about La'an's time here. It— it means a lot.

[ He figured she'd have tried to make a difference, to do some good for all the people here, but it's just good to have it confirmed. ]