Warning: Mild gore
Harrison reached over, grabbed Kirk by the front of his shirt and told him to, "MOVE!"
A two-manned ship, about fifty feet in the air, was locked in on them. The Klingons were not aiming to stun, they were not aiming to kill, they were aiming to 'explode in tiny itty-bitty pieces.' They were not dicking around, they really wanted to kill them.
Adrenaline kicked in and the pain in Kirk's leg quickly disappeared. He knew he was going to pay for this later but right now he was running as fast as he could. He followed Harrison, trusting that the super-human knew where he was going. The landscape was a swarm of color as they ran past it, ducking and weaving, covering their heads as the world around them was set ablaze.
Trees exploded. The ground threw up mounds of dirt and animals scurried away. The explosions kept missing them but they were so close, Kirk's teeth were rattling from the sheer force.
Maybe Harrison could survive a bomb being dropped near him, but the vibrations could easily knock Kirk unconscious or even kill him.
What happened next was too fast for Kirk to see. Harrison suddenly stopped in his tracks. Just stopped. Before Kirk could even dig in his heels to prevent himself from crashing into him, Harrison twisted around, planted a firm hand against Kirk's chest and shoved.
At that moment, everything seemed to slow down. Kirk couldn't think, couldn't breath, he just watched as the motions took place and had no power to stop them.
A bomb dropped out of the sky, landed right at Harrison's feet. As Kirk flew back, he watched the bomb detonate on impact, throwing Harrison in one direction.
And his right leg in the other.
Kirk landed, his back slamming into the ground and knocking the air right out of him. He struggled to get an lungful of air but his body wouldn't let him. In his peripheral, he could see Harrison lying on the ground motionless.
Finally, Kirk took a deep shuddering breath. Pain spread through his back and he did his best to ignore it. He forced himself to his feet and limped across the burnt remains of the forest to Harrison's form. Above, he could see the Klingons twisting their ship around, readying themselves to finish off the job.
Kirk fell to his knees in front of Harrison, pushing him on his back. Harrison was alive, awake, his face contorted in pain. Still, he tried to push Kirk away. "Go," he hissed. "Go!"
"I can't," Kirk said gently. This was it, there was no way Kirk could carry Harrison, no way to outrun the Klingon ship. "My leg's fucked."
Harrison groaned. His hand shakily went down to touch his bleeding thigh. "At least... you still have your leg."
The Klingon ship took careful aim this time. Kirk didn't know what he and Harrison were at this moment. Friendship? Fellow soldiers? Frenemies?
It didn't matter. They were in this together and as Harrison gripped Kirk's arm tightly, Kirk knew Harrison thought so too.
There was a noise like a whistle, echoing far away, and suddenly two giant light beams struck the Klingon ship. The back area exploded, destroying the flying machanics, and the ship dropped, erupting into a giant fireball before it even hit the ground.
Kirk was stunned. "What just happened?"
Harrison was not given time to respond. A sudden and familiar light swirled around them both. Kirk gaped, realizing what this was, and his surprised face was what stayed on him as he teleported away.
When the light finally cleared, he was greeted by several rounds of, "Captain!" and "Jim!"
He was not on the Enterprise. The ship he was on looked like a garbage carrier, old and rusted and smelling of rot. Kirk immediately recognized the design of the teleporter, the same one Harrison used when he first spirited away. It had been modified. Scotty's personalized touch was all over it.
"Help him," Kirk suddenly said. "Harrison, he's going to bleed out."
Everyone, even Spock stopped in their tracks. "Captain-?"
"Bones, get over here."
Mccoy gave a little sound of annoyance ("Goddamn me") and moved forward, squatting down in front of Harrison. "I need extra hands," he said. "Spock, Uhura, come here please."
Kirk tried to offer his own help but McCoy pushed him away, motioning to Scotty to move him.
"C'mon, Captain," Scotty murmured, pulling Kirk up as the others kneeled down.
Kirk nearly resisted. Harrison was still a terrorist and add on top of that, a kidnapper, a murderer and all-around jerk. Anybody in Kirk's position would gladly be out of Harrison's presence as soon as possible.
And yet Kirk wanted to stay, to oversee Harrison's health. No matter the sins Harrison had done, they were both soldiers stuck in the same foxhole. "Why are you here?" He asked Scotty. "I gave you orders to stay away from the planet."
"Yeah, that was the trouble, Captain. We didn't know if that was really you saying those words or if Harrison was forcing you to."
Scotty didn't even try to make that sound believable.
"But you were right," he continued. "The Klingons were constantly sending out scouts. We feared we wouldn't be able to get to you in time. Luckily though, I had spare parts around and I built a transporter."
"You had some spare parts around," Kirk repeated lamely. "And just decided to build a transporter."
Scotty frowned, as if what he said was not at all confusing or impossible at all. "Yes, Captain."
"It looks like Harrison's healing abilities do not work as well as we thought. It's been three days now and his leg has not shown a single sign of growth."
Unconsciously, Kirk rubbed at his own leg, near his scar. Harrison never told Kirk how bad the gash was, but according to Bones, the scissors had cut straight down to his femur. He was damn lucky the scissors had not nicked his artery. "How is he taking the news?"
Spock noticed the movement and did not comment. "He hasn't spoke to us, so I do not know, Captain."
"Has the stump healed, at least?"
"How long until we get to the nearest Starfleet port?"
"Twenty-two hours, Captain."
Kirk, for the life of him, could not think. His mind was like a fuzzy television screen, full of white noise and movement but having no grasp on anything solid. He just spent the last few days with a homicidal terrorist. He could be forgiven for a few lapses. Besides, Spock was still manning the ship until Bones gave the thumbs-up for Kirk to return to duty. It was almost in his right to drift.
"Jim," Spock suddenly said.
That got Kirk's attention. Spock never ever said his name. It came as a surprise. "Yeah, Spock?"
"I read your report on your experience with John Harrison..."
"Yeah..." Oh God, Spock was hesitating. Something must be bad.
"Was there... was there something else you are not clarifying?"
"You've expressed in the report that Harrison attempted to heal your leg. That he also treated your fever and saved your life, losing his leg in the process. Forgive me, Jim, but in combination of the trauma you received, I can't help but feel you may be suffering from stockholm syndrome."
"Stockholm syndrome? Are you kidding me, Spock?"
"No I am not, Captain," Spock said, all hesitation gone from his voice. "When we were hunting Harrison, you've expressed a good deal of anger. But now, after you have admitted he tortured you, you're very... calm."
Kirk would have groaned if Spock didn't have a very good point. It was not as if Kirk was planning to march down to the holding cells and open the door. But he did wish things had turned out differently.
Christ, maybe he was suffering from stockholm syndrome.
"It's been a weird couple of days, Spock," Kirk said. "I guess I'm still processing it."
"I understand, Captain. Is there anything I can do?"
Spock said it with almost human-like concern.
"I'm fine, Spock," Kirk assured him. "Don't worry."
The last time Kirk saw Harrison in the holding cell, Harrison was standing in the middle of the room, his back straight, staring out like he could bore a hole through the protective glass.
This time around, Harrison sat on the bed, his head bowed, one hand clamped over his severed leg. He looked like a defeated man.
"I'm going to make a proposition to the Federation," Kirk started. Harrison lifted his head slightly, just enough to show he was listening. "That you, John Harrison, will return to stasis."
Harrison lightly gaped. "What...?"
"The Federation does not execute its prisoners. And clearly you are too much of a threat to keep in prison, the only other logical choice is... to let you sleep."
"They will sleep besides you."
Harrison gritted his teeth, the muscles in his neck tightened as he fought to control himself. Tears leaked out of his eyes. "You would show me mercy? After everything I've done, you would return me to them?"
Clearly Harrison had thought he was going to be separated from his crew for all eternity.
Kirk thought about his dream, how Harrison walked around a large empty ship, forever searching and knowing it was all in futile. If Kirk was pressed to admit it, that would be his personal hell too.
"Despite everything," Kirk said. "You are their captain. You should be with them."
Harrison buried his face in his hands.
He said something, but it was too quiet to hear. "Harrison, I didn't-"
"I apologize," he said, pulling his hands away. His cheeks were wet. "For calling you an idiot earlier. I can see now... why you are captain. I understand."
Kirk fought off the urge to grin. Of all things to apologize for, that was what he chose?
A/N: Oh, and if my besty best friend in the whole wide world is reading this, I just have one thing to say to you: GO FUCK YOURSELF. (also, i love you and miss you loads.)
But seriously, go fuck yourself.