Title: Goodbye, Holidays (3/4)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Pike/Archer, Kirk/McCoy
Summary: Sequel to For Holiday’s Sake. The aftermath of Nero’s attack leaves the Pike family on edge.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2

Jim listens to the silence of the house and slowly, with great care, unearths the cell phone taped to the back of his bed’s headboard. He shuffles his way to the bathroom, shuts the door, and turns on the sink spigot. Then, using speed dial, he calls in.

Someone picks up right away. “Jim.“

“Spock,” Jim greets the guy he has come to trust and depend on more than he imagined possible. Spock is not just a smart ally; he’s remarkably loyal. “Everyone there?”

“We’re here,” answers another voice tartly.

Jim relaxes the tiniest bit. “Hi, Uhura.”

“I’ve got words for you, Kirk.”

“Nice ones, I hope.”

Spock interrupts them. “Nyota, please. Now is not the time.”

“Spock’s right,” Jim agrees. “Fill me in.”

“It’s bad news,” Sulu reports. “Scotty’s apartment was burglarized last night.”

Jim tenses. “Did you call the cops?”

Silence ensues until Spock replies for the group, “We were waiting on your decision.”

A handful of alternatives flash through Kirk’s mind. He takes a moment to consider which one is most advantageous to their situation. “Have the landlord report it,” he decides. “Make an anonymous noise complaint so he’ll check the apartment.”

“I can do zat,” Pavel offers.

Jim sighs. “Thanks, Pavel, but no. Spock, you do it.”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Your accent is too distinctive,” Jim hears Sulu say, no doubt in an attempt to comfort Chekov.

“I still need you, Pavel,” Jim adds. “I need all of you. You’re my eyes and ears, my hands if necessary until I can join you. It won’t be much longer, I promise.”

“Jim, healing has to come first,” Nyota insists. “Leonard would never forgive us if—”

“He’s out of this,” Jim interrupts her sharply, “and he stays out.”

“I want to take my vote back.”

“The voting is concluded,” Spock says, taking Jim’s side, for which Jim is grateful. “Mr. McCoy’s role cannot be changed at this juncture.”

Perhaps Spock is a little too loyal. He never asked if Jim might have an ulterior motive for wanting Bones out of the way. Not that Jim would have shared that information willingly.

“Jim,” Spock begins.

Over the sound of the running water, Jim hears a faint noise from his bedroom and freezes.

“Jim?”

He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Code red.”

Spock says quickly, “I must talk to you soon.”

“Call me back in ten.” He flips the phone shut just as someone knocks on the bathroom door and stashes it in a laundry basket.

The door knob turns, and Jim quickly grabs the sink’s edge, wets his face and runs fingers through his hair. “What?” he barks irritably as the door creaks open.

It isn’t his father who pokes his head around the doorframe but his father’s boyfriend. Archer cocks his head at Jim and remarks, “Hi there, kid. Was curious to see if you had slipped and knocked yourself out.”

Jim thinks Archer is the one who fell and hit his head at some point in his life, probably multiple times. “You’re out of luck, Sheriff. I’m not that clumsy.”

If anything, Archer seems even more curious. He looks around. “Whatcha doing then?”

Jim grips the edge of the sink. “Wondering if you ever heard of a little thing called privacy.”

For some insane reason, Archer grins. “Privacy is overrated.”

Why is his dad dating this idiot? laments Jim, not for the first time. He straightens up and places a hand flat against the paneling of the door and pushes. “Get out.”

Stupid Archer pushes back and actually sticks half of his body through the doorway so Jim can’t shut the door without injuring him.

“Now hold your horses, Kirk! Your father sent me in here for a reason…” Archer’s eyes light up as he spies something behind Jim. “Ah ha, there it is!”

Hustling into the bathroom, Archer snaps up the laundry basket and hurries back out before Kirk can blink.

Belatedly Jim’s mouth falls open. No sound issues forth. By the time he flings himself into his bedroom, Archer and the laundry basket are long gone. A grim-faced Kirk snatches up his bathrobe and hobbles headlong towards the laundry room.

~~~

Basket in hand, Jonathan breezes past Pike in the kitchen, ignoring the man’s startled “Jon, where are you going with that?”, and practically skips his way into the backyard. Porthos follows him with an equal amount of excitement, tail tick-tocking back and forth like a metronome.

“Kids these days,” Jon snickers, bending over to pat the beagle’s head. “They aren’t as sneaky as they think!”

Kirk will head for the laundry room first, of course. Then, upon realizing why Archer isn’t there and hence why he really took the basket, Jim will try to come after him. But Jon is nothing if not brilliant at escape, which is why Pike will unknowingly waylay his son in the kitchen because the man isn’t at the point yet where he will allow the kid out of the house. And it’s not like Jim can explain having a covert conversation with his posse without tipping his father off to the existence of a hidden agenda.

Jon positions himself in full view of the kitchen window and waits. For good measure, he locates the cell phone among the towels and boxer-shorts and casually scrolls through the call history.

It hadn’t taken much effort to trace Spock’s phone records and even less time to pinpoint the only unregistered number on the list as Kirk’s. The possibilities for how Jim would be communicating his orders were limited; Jon had already eliminated email and messaging after reviewing Kirk’s internet activity. Actually, his deputy Jenkins had helped with that investigative work because Archer is hardly up-to-date on all the forms of social media these days, barring the fact that he can friend good-looking women on Facebook (which he does to aggravate Chris).

Inspecting the phone front to back, Archer admits that he appreciates Kirk’s use of the older methods of espionage. It makes his job so much easier.

The kitchen curtain rustles. Jonathan fully expects to see Jim’s murderous face glaring at him. Instead the curtain drops back into place.

And the phone in Archer’s hand vibrates.

Jon flips it open and, to his luck, doesn’t even have to speak, for a familiar voice says, “I presume it is safe to talk.”

Why, thank you for presuming that, Mr. Spock, Jon thinks gleefully. Now tell me everything I shouldn’t know about this secret operation!

“I met with Sheriff Archer and as instructed left a hint as to Mr. Scott’s predicament. As a result, Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov have noted of a significant increase in the department’s activities.”

Jonathan stiffens. They have been spying on his team? Why?

“However, I must express caution once again. Jim, Sheriff Archer’s involvement is not a variable which we can predict with cert—”

All of a sudden, Spock ceases to talk.

Jon’s fingers tighten around the phone with a sinking feeling as the silence lengthens. Then, without warning, the call ends with a click.

He takes the phone from his ear and stares at it. When he finally glances back at the window, Jim is staring back. But the man looks grave rather than murderous. After a few seconds of studying each other, Kirk turns away and retreats from Archer’s sight.

Archer drops the phone back on top of the laundry and picks up the basket. Porthos whines softly.

“We’ve been outmaneuvered, boy,” he murmurs, unsettled to have learned that Kirk actually planned to use him in some capacity from the beginning.

When he returns to the kitchen, Pike is sitting at the table with his arms crossed. The man looks from the basket to Jon and back again.

“Jon, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Archer answers truthfully. “Where’s Kirk?”

Chris shakes his head slightly. “In his room, I guess. He asked to use my phone.”

Jon places the basket on the table and holds out one hand. “How serendipitous. I need to use it too.”

Chris looks at him strangely.

Jonathan adds, “Please?”

His boyfriend unclips the cell from his belt and offers it to Jon, still bemused.

“Thanks,” Jonathan says. He pretends to have trouble finding the phone app while he checks the log of texts. The last message to go out had been directed to Uhura’s number. It had read, Abort. JTK.

Under Pike’s curious stare, Jonathan dials his department.

The deputy on desk duty answers with an unfriendly tone, like he doesn’t have the time or the inclination to be courteous to any caller. “Sheriff’s out right now, Detective.”

Jon’s gaze narrows. “Who the hell taught you how to answer a phone?”

“…S-Sheriff!”

“You and I are going to have words, Deputy,” he warns before he orders, “Tell Larry to call me,” and hangs up.

Temper simmering, Jon rounds on his boyfriend with the demand, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Pike raises one eyebrow. “About what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Christopher!”

Chris blinks. “Jon…”

“You let him talk to you that way, don’t you? Son of a bitch.” Jonathan circles the table with obvious agitation. “As soon as I get back to the office, that little punk—”

“Jon, give him a break.”

“What he’ll get is a fucking suspension!”

With a sigh, Chris stands up. “You can’t suspend your deputy for bad manners.”

Archer stabs a finger in the air. “Watch me!”

Chris reaches for the man’s arm, trying to subdue Jon’s angry gesturing. “Calm down.”

“I’m not stupid, Chris,” Archer grits out between clenched teeth. “He insulted you on purpose.”

“And it’s partly your fault,” Pike retorts.

Jonathan stills then, the shock of those words running through him. “My fault?”

Pike releases him and lowers his hand to his side. “How can you blame your staff for being edgy when their boss is riding them so hard? Stop overworking them. Let them rest, see their families. Maybe then…” But Pike falters and looks away. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing yourself any favors. You could lose one of them, Jon.”

Archer feels sick because he understands all too well what Chris hasn’t said and why. Neither of them can avoid the unpleasant truth: despite the relentlessness and hard work of Archer and his team, it’s all been for naught. They’re utterly empty-handed.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says after an awkward silence, “but, overworked or not, I won’t allow any member of my team to disrespect another officer of the law. There’s a code and no excuse not to abide by it.”

Chris snorts softly. “I’d argue that you don’t abide by that code when it doesn’t suit you, but I understand where you’re coming from and do appreciate it.”

Jon frowns. “Next time, tell me.”

Chris just smiles, and Jon knows that silence is the best answer he’ll get. With a resigned huff, he starts to walk away.

“Jon,” Pike calls.

Jon turns back. “What?”

Chris indicates the basket. “The laundry room is at the other end of the house.”

Jonathan frowns again. “I know that.”

“Which is where you need to take these clothes to wash them.”

Jon is appalled. “But that’s Kirk’s dirty underwear!”

“Yes, that’s the point,” Chris responds serenely.

“Oh fu—” At Pike’s look, he amends his comment to “fun.” Picking up the basket, he grumbles, “Yes, lots of fun. C’mon, Porthos.”

Porthos hurries behind Chris’s legs instead.

“Traitor,” he growls at the dog and marches away.

~~~

As a grumpy Jonathan carts away the laundry, Chris’s smile fades. He taps the cell phone against his leg twice before he sits at the table. Having spotted the device partially hidden inside the basket while Archer ranted about his deputy, Chris had filched it when Jon turned his back. His own cell phone lies abandoned on the table in front of him.

Porthos nudges Pike’s leg.

“In a minute,” Chris murmurs, flipping open the phone and fiddling with the ancient keypad. He wonders why Jonathan would keep a relic like this around until the moment he peruses the call log. Then his unease grows.

This isn’t Archer’s phone. It belongs to Jim.

Chris closes the phone, pockets it, and looks down at his companion. “Porthos, let’s go for a walk.”

Porthos blinks once before his tail begins to wag. Pike retrieves the dog leash and clips it to the beagle’s collar. They go outside, cross the backyard, and hesitate at the gate in the fence.

Chris unlatches it while Porthos watches his movements intently. Once the gate is open, the dog looks at him as if giving Chris one last chance to change his mind.

Pike strides through the gate. Porthos trots behind him until they reach the sidewalk of the neighboring road, then the dog is in the lead and happily so, it appears. When the pair reaches the end of the street well out of sight of the house, Chris lingers at a stop sign and retrieves the cell phone he had confiscated.

He dials a number and waits while it rings.

The person who picks up on the fourth ring answers cautiously, “This is Leonard.”

“It’s Chris,” Pike tells him.

“Mr. Pike! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you. Some blocked number came up.”

“I’m not surprised,” Chris replies, the statement grave. McCoy was the only one had been glaringly absent from the call history.

“What’s wrong? Is it Jim?”

Chris is quick to reassure Leonard, “I’m not calling about Jim.” He pauses for a moment before coming to a decision. “Leonard, have you seen your friends lately?”

“You’ll have to be more specific, Mr. Pike. I’m in med school. I see a lot of people on a daily basis.”

“Your Santa’s Village friends. Scott, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, Spock.”

“No on the first four and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I want to see Spock.” But then Leonard remarks in a more thoughtful tone, “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any of them since Jim was in the hospital. That is strange.”

Pike’s unease turns to a sinking feeling. “Yes, very strange.” So strange, in fact, he is very angry with himself for not noticing sooner.

“Maybe…” Leonard’s voice becomes subdued. “Maybe Jim told them about me and him.”

Pike bites back a sigh. “Jim wouldn’t ask the people you’re mutually friends with to avoid you because of a break-up, Leonard.”

“Logically I know that, but…”

“Leonard.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Help me figure out what my son is up to. I think it could shed some light on why he is avoiding you.”

Leonard’s eventual answer is, “Well it couldn’t make things worse. Besides,” the young man goes on to add in a grimmer tone, “I know the perfect place to start.”

“Where?”

Porthos, watching Chris talk, wags his tail only once, oddly patient about having his outing interrupted by Pike’s personal agenda.

This time McCoy sighs. “Nobody would be more attuned to what’s on Jim’s mind these days than Spock.”

Chris almost laughs. “Looks like that cold day in hell can happen after all.”

“You’re telling me. I’ll call you back when I find out what in blazes is so wrong with Spock that he can’t keep in touch.”

That… really makes no sense at all, given that Leonard had just claimed he doesn’t like Spock hanging around him. Their relationship is an odd one, thinks Chris. Nonetheless, he is grateful. “Thanks, son.”

Leonard’s voice turns slightly shy. “You’re welcome, Chris.”

Chris hangs up. To Porthos he says, smiling, “I knew he would come around.”

The dog’s tail thumps against the ground.

“I promised you a walk, didn’t I? Okay, buddy, you’re in charge now. Which way?”

Porthos gets up, sniffs the stop sign before dismissing it, and turns left onto the adjacent sidewalk. Pike sticks one of his hands in his jean pocket and follows him in companionable silence.

He mulls over his other problem while they walk.

How had Jonathan known about Jim’s extra cell phone?

~~~

Singing, Jon decides, is a perfect way to annoy the guy spying on him. He belts out an off-key version of “Back in Black” while shoving clothes into the washing machine. When he is seriously considering throwing in a few dance moves, Kirk steps into the laundry room and firmly shuts the door behind him.

Jon dumps detergent into the machine and slams the lid shut. As he cranks the dial, he asks Jim, “AC/DC or Aerosmith?”

“Depends on the mood.”

“Smart answer.” Turning around, Jon grins at his adversary. Let their stand-off commence!

Kirk crosses his arms, looking just like his father in a not-so-playful mood. “I want my phone back.”

“Oh?” Jon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “What phone would that be?”

“I’m not kidding, Archer. Give. It. Back.”

Jon props a hip against the dryer and folds his arms over his chest like Jim. “Look here, twiggy, how was I to know that phone was yours? Don’t you kids use super-techie robot phones nowadays? I thought I’d found a toy!” His grin fades. “But imagine my surprise when somebody actually called it. I was shocked, Jim. Truly shocked.”

Jim presses his mouth into a flat line. “What do you want?”

“What you are willing to do?” Jon pushes away from the dryer to close the distance between them. “Tell me, James Kirk: what price is worth keeping my mouth shut about your little… plan?”

Jim’s arms fall to his sides, his hands flexing. “Anything,” he answers at last, tightly.

“Good,” declares Jon. “Go hug your father.”

Surprise flashes across Kirk’s face. “What?”

“You heard me. Hug your father. Suspend that bad attitude of yours long enough to make him feel like he’s better than a piece of crap stuck to the bottom of your shoe.”

Jim pales. “I… It isn’t that bad.”

“It is that bad,” Jon counters in an unforgiving tone. “And I won’t have it. You hear me, Jim? Whatever the hell else you think you have to do, fine—but there’s a line when it comes to Pike. Don’t ever fucking cross it.”

Anger blazes in Kirk’s eyes. He steps into Archer’s personal space. “Did you just threaten me, Sheriff?”

“More like warn you not to be a dumbass.”

They stare each other down, evenly matched and neither willing to concede ground.

The washer interrupts the moment with a hard thunk, knocking against the wall.

Jim looks past Archer’s shoulder, and his eyes widened suddenly. “Oh shit.”

Jon spins around.

The washing machine is foaming. Suds run over the sides in long streams and puddle on the floor.

“Oh shit!” he echoes Kirk. “Is it supposed to do that?”

Jim shoves him aside and grabs for a dial on the machine. He manages to do something to make it stop shimmying but his bare feet slide sideways in a patch of bubbles. Jonathan jumps forward just in time to catch Kirk as he goes down, and they land in a heap.

Momentarily stunned, Jon can only stare at the back of the blond head mashed against his nose. Kirk finally twists out of his grip and rolls sideways off him, sitting up, looking equally stunned.

Archer’s brain registers pain, then. “Son of a bitch,” he curses, putting a hand to the back of his head. He laboriously sits up. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” replies Jim, twisting around to look at him. “Are you?”

“Sure.” The sudden movement of his neck gives him serious vertigo. “Just peachy.”

Jim starts to get up. “I’ll get Dad.”

Jon quickly grabs a hold of young man’s arm. “No, it’s fine, I’m fine. Jim,” he adds when Kirk looks like he might protest, “don’t. Your father’s already going to yell at me for murdering your washing machine.”

Jim gives him a strange look. “It’s not dead. You just put in too much detergent.”

“Oh,” Jon says, feeling slightly better—a feeling which fades quickly. “But my point stands. If he finds out that you almost got hurt in the process, he’ll kill me.” Jon sucks in a breath, tacking on an emotionally raw “Please.”

“Okay,” Jim agrees readily enough, only to draw back without warning and change his tone. “But we’re square now. I don’t tell on you, and you don’t tell on me.”

Damn. Jon had botched his gamble after all. “Deal. Wait,” he urges Kirk when the young man tries to get up. Jon climbs to his feet using the dryer as leverage and holds out a hand. For a second, Jim looks like he might refuse the offer but then he clasps Jon’s hand and lets himself be pulled to his feet.

Jon pats him down anxiously, asking again, “Are you okay?” until Kirk dances out of reach.

“You,” Jim declares, “are weird. Leave the phone in my room.” He disappears into the hallway.

Jon draws a hand through his hair and, grimacing, plucks at the wet shirt now stuck to his back. As he strips out of his shirt and pants and tosses them in the washing machine with the other sudsy clothes, he mutters to himself, “Score: Kirk, one; Archer, none. Damn it.”

Now he will have to find another card to play. Archer turns for the empty basket, stares at it dumbly for a second before it registers with him that, win or loss, the result doesn’t matter. He can’t give the cell back to Kirk anyway.

He has lost it.

~~~

“Tough day?” Chris asks his lover with concern as he slips into bed to find Archer already face-down upon it. The fact that the man has a pillow shoved over his head is even more telling.

Jon’s answer is muffled by the pillow.

Chris settles on his back and locks his fingers over his stomach. “I didn’t hear a word you just said.”

Archer lifts up a corner of the pillow. “I’m fine. It could’ve been worse.”

Pike turns his head to stare at the pillow-covered head of his boyfriend. “Those statements seem contrary to me.”

The pillow corner goes back down. A few seconds later, Jonathan drags his head out and sits up enough to punch the pillow. “Why don’t you ask me to elaborate on my contrariness?”

“I didn’t ask you why you were walking around in your underwear this afternoon,” Pike points out dryly. “Why start now?”

Jonathan stares at him, then lays down with a murmur Chris pretends he doesn’t hear. Both men sigh quietly in unison, and Chris closes his eyes.

Silence settles between them, to the point that Pike guesses Archer might have fallen asleep. It surprises him when the man stirs and rumbles, “I’ll tell you about this afternoon if you tell me about the sleeping pills.”

Chris’s body jerks without meaning to, and his eyes fly open. The sight of the ceiling greets him, all its tiny flaws cloaked in darkness.

Jonathan presses, “Shouldn’t you take them?”

What can he say? The truth? But the answer that comes out is a wary “I could.”

“Yet you haven’t,” Archer states flatly. “I know because I counted the pills.” The man pauses, then, before saying his name more softly. “Chris…”

“If you’re fine, then I’m fine too.” Chris rolls over to his opposite side, away from Jon, and tucks an arm beneath his head.

A hand settles on his shoulder. Tensing, Pike waits for the inevitable demand of further explanation.

But Jon only says, “We’re both stubborn jackasses, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” he agrees after a moment. “Yes, we are.”

The hand strokes down Chris’s arm, finds his wrist and curls there. “Night, Christopher.”

Chris relaxes and returns the goodnight. For once, he is content to watch the clock on the bedside table until the early hours of the morning.

~~~

Waiting until a pensive-looking Kirk turns away to watch his father leave the kitchen, Jonathan steals the last piece of bacon off the kid’s plate and pops it into his mouth. He then cheerfully dons his sheriff’s hat and pushes away from the kitchen table and the remnants of breakfast.

“So,” he inquires in a casual manner, pausing by Kirk’s chair, “did you think about what I said?”

The look Jim gives him is far from amused.

Jon flicks a finger in the direction that Pike had gone and adds the enticement, “I’ll tell you a secret about your dad.”

If anything, Jim’s expression becomes even less amused. “No thanks.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Jon rocks back on his heels and stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets. “You’ll definitely want to know this secret.”

He watches Jim’s fingers tighten reflexively on the top of the chair, despite that Jim says dismissively, “Go to work, Archer.”

Jon sighs with dramatic flair, knowing there’s only one to finish this conversation, and heads for the archway with an easy stroll. “Oh well,” he calls back over his shoulder. “It’ll be Pike’s funeral!”

As he expects, not long after Jim hoofs it out of the kitchen at a quick pace in pursuit of him, features drawn, troubled gaze hinting at fear.

You’re a bastard, Jon, the sheriff mentally congratulates himself. He quickens his stride to the front door.

“Wait!” Jim calls him back.

But Jon has no intention of waiting. He hurries outside to the sidewalk in front of the house, purposefully leaving the door wide-open behind him.

Kirk stops at the threshold, staring at Jon like he is the worst kind of betrayer.

Jon lifts one hand and crooks a finger. C’mere, he mouthes silently.

Jim looks at the place where he’s standing then back at Jon.

C’mere, Archer mouthes again.

Setting his jaw, Jim leaves the doorway and painstakingly starts down the stairs. Jonathan grabs him at the last step and cheers loudly, hauling the young man forward into a bone-crushing hug.

“You did it, little bear!” he exclaims.

Jim immediately shoves his attacker back. “What is wrong with you?”

Jon laughs, tickled to pieces. “Papa bear is very proud of you.” He gestures to the outside world. “Welcome back to the land of sunshine! For a minute there, I thought you might have turned into a vampire.”

Kirk crosses his arms over his chest, retorting, “Whatever. Hurry up and tell me before Dad comes out with his gun.”

“He can’t do that. I hid his guns,” Jon informs Pike’s son proudly. “We can agree that your father and firearms is not the best combination right now.”

“That’s a shame, Sheriff. I was hoping to see him shoot you.”

“Cheeky little thing.” Jonathan pinches Jim’s cheek to prove his point. “I knew you hadn’t lost your spunk, kid.”

Jim warns him, “In five seconds I’m going to punch you in front of that neighbor lady.”

Jon cranes his head around and spots said neighbor lady haphazardly watering her flowers while openly staring at them. He waves to her. “I bet she’s impressed that I’m a sheriff. You know what, Kirk? You had a good idea there. Punch me so I can arrest you! Ladies sure like a lawman in action.”

Rolling his eyes, Kirk turns away.

Jon shifts to step between him and the house. “All right, fine. No punches.”

“No punches today,” Jim agrees, obviously thinking they’ll take a rain-check on that.

Archer clears his throat and sobers his tone. “I’m sure you’ve noticed your dad is a little…” He makes a twirling motion at his head.

Kirk’s gaze becomes hooded. “There’s nothing wrong with my dad.”

Oh, right, Jon realizes. Wrong approach to insult Pike.

He holds up his hands in a conciliatory manner. “I only meant he’s been on edge lately.”

A muscle ticks in Jim’s jaw. “You’re telling me things I already know, Sheriff.”

“Yes, but—” Jonathan leans in. “—did you know that he can’t sleep?”

The man’s gaze sharpens.

“He hasn’t slept in at least a week,” Jon says slowly. “I figure longer since it took me a while to figure out that he was faking it.” He folds his arms, mirroring Kirk. “Now what do you suppose that’ll do to a man Pike’s age, Jim? Heart attack?”

Kirk loses color.

Jon reaches for him, immediately apologetic. “Sorry, that was harsh.”

“Why’s he not sleeping?” Jim asks, voice nearly a whisper.

Jonathan’s look turns shrewd. “Because of you.”

“No,” Jim denies instantly. “I told him he doesn’t have to take care of me anymore. I know he was tired before but he should be sleeping now!”

“Don’t get angry at me. Be angry at yourself. The one thing that gives Pike any relief in this situation is looking after you, and you denied him that. If anything, Jim, you’re making things worse.” Jon resists giving the man a slight shake. “This is why you need to stop now. Stop before something happens to Chris that you can’t undo.”

Kirk’s anger fades along with (Jon is happy to see) his resolve. “I…”

Jonathan releases him. “I’ll be gone for the next day, so you have to look after him for me.”

Jim turns his face away.

“One hug,” Jon reminds him. “That’s it.” He steps back and studies Jim once more before heading to his truck. He doesn’t pull out of the driveway until Kirk returns to the house.

Even then, Archer’s truck lingers briefly in the street as the man wonders if telling Kirk was the right thing to do. It has to be, he tells himself, because there isn’t a better method to stop Kirk—or Pike—from destroying themselves. That is the power of family, Jon had reflected late last night. And likely why Chris had refused to reach out to Jon, to let him help. Jonathan isn’t his family.

Sighing, Archer puts his vehicle into gear and leaves Pike’s neighborhood behind.

He needs to focus on what he can do for Chris and Jim: catch the bad guys and make certain their household is never harmed again.

To do that, first he has to find Montgomery Scott.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Goodbye, Holidays (5/5) – from February 26, 2016
• Goodbye, Holidays (4/5) – from February 17, 2016
• Goodbye, Holidays (2/4) – from January 27, 2016
• Goodbye, Holidays (1/3) – from December 30, 2015

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