Title: Goodbye, Holidays (5/5)
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 | 3 | 4

Chris had to take a seat halfway through McCoy’s recounting of all that he learned from Spock. It seems Spock had not wanted to explain at first, but Leonard alludes to the fact that he used Spock’s concern for Jim against him.

“Cracked him like a nut. Knew that bastard cared too much,” Leonard mutters at one point, alternating between sipping at the coffee Pike offered him and strangling the ceramic mug as a substitute for someone’s neck.

Chris runs a hand down his face, pretending that it doesn’t tremble at the thought of hearing more terrifying news about his son’s downright insane plan to oust the gang that attacked him—a plan Jim didn’t see fit to tell anyone who would have had sense enough to stop him. In fact, Chris sees now what Jim had achieved by keeping him at arm’s length. That knowledge also makes him re-evaluate what he assumed he understood about his son’s behavior over the course of the past month.

One fact becomes quite glaringly clear: something or someone had broken Jim’s resolve recently; otherwise Chris’s reconnection with Jim that very morning wouldn’t have happened. But what prompted Jim to alter his course so unexpectedly? Who would have the talent to do that, besides himself and possibly McCoy?

“I don’t understand something,” Chris says when Leonard runs out of words, turning his attention to yet another puzzle. “Why leave you on outside? No offense, McCoy, but I suspect my son could have convinced you to go along with his plan if he had wanted to.”

Leonard gives him a sour look. “Are you sayin’ I’m weak, Mr. Pike?”

“Hardly,” Chris counters. “I’m saying Jim can be very persuasive.” Jim couldn’t have convinced Chris, though. Kirk would know that his father would insist on a by-the-book approach—that is, until the criminals are apprehended and Pike is free to decide how much pain to inflict upon them. Rules be damned, no one hurts his child without paying in kind.

The young man across from Pike sighs. “I’ll agree with you there, sir. I remember when Jim made pulling a prank on the Admissions Councilor sound fun, and she was the most terrifying officer on campus.”

Chris has to close his eyes. “Leonard, now is not the time to remind me about my son’s proclivity for pranking.”

“Sorry,” Leonard says, abashed. “Forget I said that.”

Not likely, but Chris has other, scarier problems to tackle at the moment. “You said you might be next. What did you mean by that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m the gang’s next target.”

Chris lengthens his spine, presses his hands flat, palm down, against the table. Leonard watches him curiously.

“They punished Jim. Why would there be another victim?”

Leonard watches him a moment longer. “Why should those bastards stop at Jim? Why not punish the rest of us too?”

To Chris, there couldn’t be worst punishment than hurting Jim. He curses, finally, fully realizing how his personal involvement with the case limited his perspective. If the victim had been anyone else, Chris’s automatic assumption would have been ‘who would be next?’ Instead, fear hamstrung him, terrifying him into thinking that the perpetrators would come back to finish the kill if he wasn’t vigilant.

But Jim was a message, the warning shot over the bow. This is a waiting game to be certain but of a different kind than Chris imagined.

He stands, planting his feet, telling McCoy flatly, “That’s not going to happen. Consider yourself under police protection as of now, Mr. McCoy.”

Leonard blinks, then seconds later he shakes his head. “Jim was right about one thing. I do have a life. School. My internship. I can’t stay under house arrest, living in fear every time I look out the window.”

Maybe that remark isn’t meant as a slap against Chris’s recent behavior but he takes it as such to vent some of his frustration. “I don’t consider looking after my son’s well-being and safety hindering his ability to live, Mr. McCoy.”

McCoy stiffens, firing back, “Then why’s Jim so miserable?”

Pike’s mouth forms a thin line.

McCoy sighs again. “I’m sorry, Chris. I don’t know how to finesse this. I’m not sure I should. Jim has needed your support, possibly more than I can express… but there comes a point where needs change. It’s time that Jim regains his independence and relies on his own strength. The recovery is no longer healthy for him if you, as his caretaker, cannot accept that and encourage him.”

“I’m not,” he starts, stops, his frustration rising. “I can’t—” Does McCoy understand how he feels as a parent? How difficult it is to step back when the memories of his child’s pain are still so fresh that he has trouble sleeping at night?

“I get it. I wanted stay with him 24/7 too. Almost did until he kicked my ass to the curb.” Leonard frowns. “But you know, I thought about that—well, after licking my wounds over being dumped—”

“Jim didn’t dump you.”

“Now he says that,” Jim’s boyfriend harrumphs. “My point is Jim has the right to tell us to back off. He should want to, otherwise I’d be worrying about co-dependency issues instead of a troublesome rebellious streak.”

Pike has a headache now. He lifts a hand to stall McCoy’s next piece of word. “Can we not psycho-analyze my son right now?”

Leonard’s mouth twitches. “Jim never told you I have a doctorate in psychology?”

No. No he did not. Damn it, Chris is going to strangle the boy.

Leonard shakes his head in mock sadness. “It’s true. I’m an old man dating a young whippersnapper. At least that’s what my med school buddies tease me about whenever Jim picks me up for a date. Jim just replies that he likes his men old and crotchety.”

Dear god. Chris pinches the bridge of his nose. “More details I can live without, Leonard: your dating experiences with Jim.”

Leonard laughs.

Chris likes this nearly-thirty-something. He does. “Age aside, what other details did Spock—”

Pike swallows the rest of his question upon hearing the slamming of the house’s front door, which is jarringly loud. The force of it is enough that the windowpane in the kitchen rattles. Pike and McCoy turn to stare through the archway.

“What the hell was that?” Leonard wants to know.

Good question. No one has a key to the front door except—

“KIIIRK!”

Archer. Oh shit. Jonathan yelling at that volume is never a good sign.

“Just got a shiver down my spine,” mutters McCoy, hurriedly draining his mug like the coffee will provide fortification for what is to come. He rises from the table to join Pike.

Before Chris has a chance to begin his investigation of the disturbance, a streak of color rushes through the archway into the kitchen, crying, “Dad!”

Jim stops short of knocking into Pike and twists his father around until Pike is shielding him. Chris barely has time to overcome his surprise, for the thing that Jim has fled from bursts into the kitchen with an angry roar.

This blanket monster has a distinctly hat-shaped head, a gun holster, and flailing limbs.

Archer rips off the blankets that had been thrown over his head with the snarl, “Where is he?“

Leonard prudently steps behind Pike as well.

“Outta my way, Pike,” the sheriff growls, looking a little too wild-eyed. “I’m going to throttle him!”

“I didn’t bring any sedatives,” Leonard whispers in Chris’s ear.

“Try to remain calm.” Normally reserved for psychopaths and lynching mobs, Chris employs his best voice of reason. “Jonathan, let’s talk this through. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“Screw talking.” Jon rips his gun holster off, gun still clipped in place, and tosses it aside like a toy. “Gonna do this with my bare hands, Kirk.” He approaches them, hands curled before him like an actual monster’s—or like those of a man driven beyond endurance.

Chris’s tone turns steely. “Jon, I said sit down.”

“Uh, Dad,” Jim says from behind him, “I don’t think he hears you.”

“Fuck,” Pike mutters, and warns his charges, “Brace yourselves.”

Jonathan leaps at them. At the last second Chris spins them out of the way, latching onto one of Archer’s arm and twisting it behind the man in a move that pins Archer against the table.

“Living room, now!” he barks at Kirk and McCoy, his voice brooking no disobedience. They waste no time in heeding the order, scrambling to put distance between them and the crazy man struggling against Pike’s hold.

Chris leans over Archer, using his weight as extra leverage to keep the man pinned down. “Jonathan, stop. I will break your arm.”

“Your son,” Archer grits out, “needs a walloping!”

“Then I’ll be the one to wallop him. Is that clear?”

The man bucks one last time, then curses and goes still. A long, tense minute passes before Chris releases him.

Archer straightens up with a grunt of pain and a hand to his back. “Damn it, Christopher. What’d I tell you about bending me over stuff?”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “That you like it?”

Jon turns to him, face flushed by anger and something more. “Oh. Yeah. Maybe later?”

“Maybe never unless you tell me why you’re so determined to kick Jim’s ass.”

Archer closes his eyes, visibly struggling with the vestiges of his rage. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is a little clearer, sharper, than before. “That’s between me and Kirk.”

Chris watches the man a moment longer, his brain furiously extrapolating information based on the facts McCoy had shared with him earlier. He doesn’t like the conclusion. But rather than tipping his hand, he remarks mildly, “Then you’ll have to get in line, Sheriff. My grievance with Kirk comes first.”

The rage in Archer’s eyes dissipates completely, replaced by undisguised interest. “What did he do to piss you off?”

Having succeeded in reining in Archer’s temper, Chris feels free to release his own. “Lie to me.”

Abruptly he turns on his heel and marches to the living room.

Jim’s worried “Dad?” is genuine but the young man pulls up short when he notices his father’s expression. It is McCoy who takes a position in front of Pike without any hesitation and declares, “Time out.”

“I don’t think so, Leonard.”

Wariness flickers through McCoy’s eyes but he doesn’t back down. “I’m calling a ‘time out’. No more fighting. From this moment on, whatever issue needs to be addressed among the four of us is to be discussed rationally. That means without,” he adds pointedly to Archer who comes through the archway, “violence.”

“That’s ironic coming from the guy who tried to beat up my son an hour ago,” Chris says.

Leonard flushes. “I was upset. Jim forgives me.”

Jim nods earnestly. “I forgive him.”

Jon comes abreast of Pike and stops there. “But I’m not feeling so forgiving. You crossed one line too many, Kirk. I want answers.”

Jim’s whole countenance changes, shutters. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sheriff.”

“The fuck you do!”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

Chris has to place a hand against Archer’s chest when Jonathan lurches forward, throwing out an accusatory “No, you think you give orders! Well I’m not some goddamn puppet that dances to your tune!”

Jim smirks. “And here I thought you had pretty good rhythm.”

“James,” Chris cuts in, “that’s enough.”

“Fuck,” mutters Archer, repeating the word with feeling several times. He paces back to the archway before he returns to Pike’s side and nearly begs, “Just let me take him out back for a few minutes, straighten this shit out.”

“No, Jon.”

“Damn it, Pike, what’s the point of talking? Your boy’s going to mock everything I say!”

“Jim won’t do that.”

“I totally will,” Jim counters. When a nonplussed Pike and McCoy stare at him, he relents with “Fine, whatever.” To Archer, “I apologize.”

Jon doesn’t look appeased. “You don’t even know what to be sorry for.”

Jim shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“It sure as hell does. I’m the town sheriff, Mr. Kirk. You can’t stomp all over my authority whenever you feel like it.” He narrows his eyes. “Even if you think you’ve got probable cause.”

That particular wording strikes Pike as odd. “Does this have anything to do with Jim’s friends trying to identify his attackers?”

Jonathan turns to stare dumbly at him. “You know?“

Jim suddenly finds his slippered feet very fascinating.

“I’m the one who knows,” Leonard interjects, “and since I owe Pike, I told him.”

Jim now finds Leonard fascinating. “What do you owe Dad?”

“Your father very kindly agreed to update me on your recovery since—you know, Jim,” McCoy turns sarcastic, “you broke up with me.”

Jim’s shoulders snap back. “I didn’t break up with you, Bones.” His voice becomes fierce. “We’re not breaking up.”

“And farther down the rabbit hole we go,” deadpans Archer. “Kiddo, you need to stop screwing with us and ‘fess up.”

That, Chris knows, is entirely the wrong approach to take with Jim. He punches Archer’s arm.

“Hey!” the man exclaims, surprised by the action.

Leonard chastises them, “I said no fighting.”

Chris just tucks his hands into his pants pockets. Behind Leonard, Jim smirks.

Checkmate, Pike thinks. “Jimmy, I’m worried. Doesn’t working against Archer’s department create an additional exposure for your team?”

Jim chews his bottom lip. “Not… not in this case, Dad.”

“Why?”

At exactly the wrong moment Jon figures out what Chris is up to and echoes, “Yeah, what he said.”

Jim clams up. Chris contemplates punching Jonathan again; this time he would mean it.

Coming from the opposite end of the house where he had likely been napping, Porthos ambles into the living room. He wags his tail upon spying all the new visitors.

Jon points at Jim and orders the dog, “Get him, Porthos!”

Porthos goes to Leonard instead and lays on top of the man’s feet.

Jim crosses his arms. “There’s your evidence, Archer. You’re a sheriff who can’t even train his own pet. So why are you surprised that we can’t trust you and yours?”

Jonathan’s face goes blank, as if Jim had struck a nerve. “You’re full of shit, Kirk. My team’s golden.”

Jim’s gaze becomes hooded. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“I could punch you.”

Jim’s laugh is humorless. “Do your worst.”

Chris has the sick feeling that is exactly what Jim said to the gang members when they donned their brass knuckles and retrieved their steel pipes. He has to break this up before it devolves into something worse. Trying for an unconcerned air, he shakes his head and heads to the couch. Porthos quickly follows, jumping into Pike’s lap once Pike is seated so that Pike can stroke his head since McCoy had offered the dog no affection.

“Jim,” he says, “if you and Archer have finished with the posturing, come over here. Leonard has a point. I’m willing to discuss this—and to listen to what you have to say.”

At length Jim’s gaze breaks away from his father’s boyfriend. He joins Pike on the couch, gladly accepting Porthos when Chris transfers the dog to his son’s lap. Porthos rolls onto his back and sticks his legs in the air. Jim obligingly rubs his belly.

Jonathan momentarily closes his eyes, then moves to sit in the recliner. McCoy is the only one left standing.

“Anybody want a drink?” Leonard asks, then pauses to consider his surroundings. “Is there anything to drink in this house?”

“Scotch,” Archer answers quickly. “Leave the glass, bring the bottle.”

“Sorry, we’re a dry house at the moment,” Chris informs McCoy. “I threw out the scotch.”

Archer falls back. “Just kill me now.”

Chris’s reply has a distinct lack of sympathy. “You have to be sober to be rational, Jon.”

“I’d say ‘bite me’ but then you wouldn’t, Chris, and I’d be so disappointed.” The skin around Archer’s eyes becomes pinched. “Not gonna lie. I’m nearly out of patience.”

“Try. For me.”

Jonathan rocks in the recliner a moment before nodding. The face he turns to Kirk is eerily composed. “How much do you know, and how long have you been lying about it?”

Jim stares at Archer for the longest time without replying.

Chris sighs internally. “James, we’ll stay here for as long as it takes you to answer.”

“What he said,” Leonard seconds, folding his arms across his chest.

Jim looks away briefly, like he knows he has been boxed in but cannot quite give up on the possibility of escape. The explanation comes slowly: “It’s true there’s a… search underway. We believe there’s an informant. Archer is angry because the informant is possibly one of his own.” He meets his father’s gaze.

“An informant from within,” Chris remarks softly. “That is a serious accusation, son.”

“Which is why we decided to wait until we had evidence.”

Though Jon appears calm, his grip on the recliner’s arms speaks of serious inner turmoil. “Kirk plotted to lure this informant out by feeding my team false information and perpetrating a fake scavenger hunt. One would think that upsets me… but it doesn’t. In fact I would almost agree that it’s rather ingenious from a tactical perspective.”

“Then what’s your problem, Sheriff?” Jim demands.

“You,” Jon answers flatly. He leans forward, his attention entirely on Kirk. “You could have caught him faster by telling me, by asking for my help. Even if I thought you were crazy, Jim, you know I would have helped you just to prove you wrong. Yet you didn’t tell me.”

Jim stiffens.

“Because,” Jonathan concludes, “you couldn’t convince yourself I am not the informant.”

Chris’s mouth goes dry.

Leonard sucks in a quick breath. “Jim, you didn’t…?”

A muscle in Jim’s cheek twitches. “If the shoe fits, Bones.”

The bottom has dropped out, and all Chris could do is lean forward to brace his elbows on his thighs and put his head in his hands.

“Damn it, Jim!” Leonard explodes. “How many times do I have tell you that Archer is on our side?”

Jim jumps to his feet without warning, dislodging Porthos who scrambles to land upright on the floor. “I’m not doing this out of spite!” he yells. “Facts add up!” He points at Jon. “Fact one: you hate my guts.”

Chris thought they had gotten past this. Had he only imagined Jim and Jon getting along?

“Fact two: you want my dad. I’m standing in your way.”

Jim, Chris thinks despairingly.

“And fact three,” Jim finishes with deadly intensity, “you, Sheriff, were the only person who knew where I planned to be that night.”

Archer lays a hand over his eyes. “Oh fuck.”

Chris looks up, asking sharply, “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck,” Jon says again. “He’s right.”

Pike holds up a hand, stalling anything else of an incriminating nature that Jon might say. To Jim, he orders, “Explain.”

“The night I was attacked…” Jim swallows. Leonard moves to stand beside him, and Kirk starts again. “That night I knew I was being followed. There were two of them with the blue tattoos.”

Chris shakes his head as if to deny what’s coming.

“When I walked out of that store, I thought I could find out who sent them. I didn’t know it was an ambush.”

Jon rakes his fingers through his hair. “Son of a bitch.”

Chris has gone numb. “Your statement said you exited the store and were overpowered by four men in the parking lot. Your assailants forced you into an unmarked van.”

“That’s true.”

“Omission is the same as lying!” Chris bursts out angrily. “You know better!” He comes to his feet, trembling all over. “Like you knew you should have stayed inside that store, in public, and reported being tailed. God-fucking-damn it, James! You could have been killed!”

“Dad—”

“No.”

“Chris,” Jon says, also taken aback by Pike’s rage.

“NO.”

Jim swallows hard. “I made a mistake.”

Pike crowds his son. “This is above and beyond a mistake. Your reckless bravado and your disregard for the rules nearly cost you your life! Only the fact that those bastards didn’t want to kill you saved you. Do you know how much that terrifies me?”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do, James. I don’t think you truly understand why I’m this furious. So what is it going to take for you to learn, huh? Getting someone else beaten within an inch of his life?” Chris stares down at his shocked son. “Should I put myself in that situation?”

Leonard grabs Jim around the shoulders when the man lurches unsteadily to his feet, reaching for Pike on instinct yet faltering before they touched.

“You don’t mean that,” Jim argues, his pale face and wide eyes suggesting he believes otherwise.

Jon leaves the recliner to draw Pike back. “He doesn’t mean it.”

“I do,” Chris states, suddenly feeling quite calm. “If I have to die to teach you how to live, Jim, I will.” Then he steps around Archer and walks away.

“Go after him,” Chris hears Leonard say. He doesn’t need to look back to know that Leonard is trying his best to soften the blow of his cold words.

~~~

Jonathan doesn’t question why he is taking orders from someone half his age. He hurries after Pike, unnerved and somewhat frightened to have heard the promise in Pike’s voice. The man in question is frowning at his reflection in the bathroom mirror when Jonathan finds him. Closing the door behind him, despite that their voices aren’t likely to carry to the rest of the house, Jon studies the man who has hard lines on his face and sadness in his eyes.

A minute passes, then another.

Jonathan reaches past Pike to open the medicine cabinet beside the mirror and rummage through it. He picks out something and throws it into the nearby trash can. The distraction is successful. After a moment of watching Archer continue to throw objects away, Pike wants to know, “What are you doing?”

“Taking preemptive action,” Jon explains, determined to rid the bathroom of every sharp object he can find. “That was some kamikaze shit you just pulled in there, so goodbye razor blades, sleeping pills, and belts to hold up your pants.”

Chris rocks back on his heels. When Jon unearths the bottle of sleeping medication, he grabs Archer’s wrist. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jon. I don’t need to be on suicide watch.” Pike places the bottle back inside the cabinet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jon drops his hands to his sides. “Can you promise me that, Christopher?”

Pike opens his mouth—and closes it again without saying anything.

“Didn’t think so.” Jon’s tone becomes grim. “So let me give you a promise instead. When you go after Nero, I’m going with you.”

Pike blinks, then slowly, genuinely smiles. “Okay.”

The tension inside Jon eases somewhat. That had been easier than he expected.

Chris looks him over. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure. Ask.”

“Jim said you knew his whereabouts the night he was attacked. Could you elaborate on that?”

Jon nods after a moment. This secret he can tell, perhaps should have told long ago. “It’s not as bad as he was thinking… but it’s not good either. I asked Jim to go there.” Guilt washes over him anew. “Bribed him, actually.”

Chris just watches him. “Why?”

“Ironically, I needed him to pick out something you would want for our six-month anniversary. I was coming up short on ideas.” Archer’s shoulders slump. “But see how well that turned out? I nearly gifted you with a dead son instead of a pretty pocket watch.”

Chris’s expression softens. “Jon.”

Jonathan is a little weirded out when he is reeled into a hard hug.

“It’s not your fault,” his lover says into his shoulder.

Hearing that drives the knife in deeper. How can Chris be so forgiving? Here is yet another reason in a long list that Jonathan shouldn’t be part of his life. Denial is on the tip of Archer’s tongue but he swallows it down and forces himself to chuckle instead. Pulling away from Pike, he clasps the man’s shoulder in a friendly manner and thanks him. The disappointment which flashes through Pike’s eyes is a surprise.

Following an awkward pause, Pike replies, “You’re welcome.”

Jon clears his throat. “Want to go hug it out with your kid now? Ten minutes should be enough mental torture.”

Jim’s father frowns. “Sometimes I don’t understand you, Jon. Why do you think you can torture him all you like but I should take pity?”

“Because you’re the one person who could really damage him,” is Jon’s soft answer. “I didn’t think you wanted that.”

Chris shakes his head. “I don’t. All I’ve ever wanted is Jimmy to grow up knowing someone cares about him. I used to believe that was all it took—a single person to make a difference in someone’s life. Lately, I’m not so sure.”

Jon cups the side of the face he cares about so much, brushing his thumb along a cheekbone. “If it helps, you’ve made all the difference in mine.”

Chris smiles again. “Ditto.”

Jon turns him around to face the closed door and gives him an encouraging push forward. “Yonder wayward offspring awaits, milord. Deliver unto him the product of his misfortune!” He stage-whispers, “That means kick some serious ass, Princess.”

“Jonathan,” comes the dry response, “you are truly one of a kind.”

“And patented,” he says with a wink, following the man out of the bathroom.

~~~

Jim has his head down between his knees. McCoy is patting his back.

Chris feels awful. However he knows that he can’t—and won’t—take back what he said.

“Jim.”

Jim’s head comes up slightly.

“From now on,” Chris tells his son, “don’t lie. Don’t omit the truth.”

“Okay,” Jim whispers.

“Above all, don’t risk your life unless there is absolutely no alternative. You are not invulnerable. Do you understand?”

Jim nods and sits up. “I understand, Dad.”

Pike lowers his head for a moment, as if in prayer. Then he opens his arms. “C’mere.”

Jim holds onto him tightly, and Chris shifts to make certain that he prevents the others from seeing his son’s silent tears.

Leonard stands up, looking tired and worn. “I wish you hadn’t thrown that scotch out, Mr. Pike.”

“We’ll survive,” Chris replies, rubbing a hand along his boy’s spine. “How about a glass of water for Jim?”

McCoy nods, understanding the message to give them time alone, and wanders to the kitchen. Archer, who leans against the wall of the living room, watches them for a few seconds more before he quietly disappears toward the kitchen too.

Jim shudders once and brings his arm up to swipe it across his eyes.

Pike gives him a final pat and steps back. “I’m sorry for losing my temper.”

“I deserved it,” Jim replies. “I was dumb.”

“You’re young. You’re still learning, son, but I… I want to save you some of the pain that comes with learning, if I can.”

Jim looks at him. “Then don’t die.”

He swallows. “You know that’s a promise I can’t make.”

“Dad.”

“Jim, I love you. I believe in you. Let that be enough.”

Jim looks away.

Chris runs a hand down the boy’s arm in understanding. Jim has had so many people leave him behind. It pains Pike to know that one day he’ll be one of them. But maybe, just maybe, he can ensure that Jim has enough family around him to carry on.

He says, out of the blue, “You shouldn’t let McCoy get away.”

Jim snuffles and murmurs, “I didn’t plan on him going far.”

“Maybe you should marry him.”

Jim’s head snaps around.

Chris coughs and pretends those words did not just pop out of his mouth. What is he thinking? “What’s taking that boy so long? I asked him to bring a glass of water, not walk to the store and buy it!”

Jim’s cheeks are flushed. “Dad…”

Chris chuckles nervously. How in heck can he get Jim to stop looking at him like he just promised Christmas months early?

Obviously sent from the heavens to answer his prayers, a grumbling McCoy comes out of the kitchen. Archer follows not far behind, looking smug.

Jim’s attention immediately switches to Leonard, his eyes alight.

Poor McCoy, thinks Pike. Little does Leonard know that Chris just offered him up as the Christmas present.

“Bones,” Jim says.

Leonard shoves a glass into Kirk’s hand, completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s expression, and makes his second declaration of the day: “Listen up. This is what we’re going to do.”

“Why does he keep taking charge?” Jon whispers to Pike once they are side by side.

Chris shrugs.

Leonard eyes them warily. “We need perspective and distance. Therefore we’re all going to sit down to dinner and talk about the mundane—”

Jon interrupts, “Define mundane.”

McCoy glares. “—and forget this shitty business for one night. Then everybody’s going to bed. Archer, you’re in charge of Mr. Pike. Do whatever you have to to make him sleep.”

Jonathan snaps to attention with a grinning, “Yes, sir!”

Chris doesn’t know what to make of the calculating look Archer turns upon him.

“And, Jim—” Leonard fixes a no-nonsense stare on Kirk. “—I’ll handle you.”

Jim mutters, “I don’t need to be handled,” but his eyes are still shining.

Leonard misses that gleam in Kirk’s eyes. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kick you all night.”

Jim mimes zipping his mouth shut.

“In the morning,” Leonard finishes, “we can reconvene to talk strategy.” Pausing, he frowns. “Should I call Spock?”

Jim offers, “I can do that.”

Leonard closes his eyes. “Thank god.”

“Bones?”

Leonard opens his eyes and looks guilty. “I might have said some very rude things to Spock… and punched him.”

Chris’s eyebrows go up. Jim’s eyes widen.

Archer is the only one who offers McCoy a thumbs-up. “Way to go, Sour Patch. Been wanting to knock that annoying snot down a peg or two myself. Did he cry?”

“Of course he didn’t cry,” Leonard retorts. Then he sneaks a glance at Jim. “I did offer to fix his bloody nose afterwards, but he wouldn’t let me.”

Chris understands Jim’s heartfelt sigh. Jim had been working diligently for the last few months to improve relations between Spock and Leonard. Pike hopes this flash of tempers does not lead to an unfortunate backslide of that progress. He wants Jim’s friends to support him well, which means they need to present a unified front. Enemies, even occasional enemies, can never have the level of trust necessary to achieve that.

“I’ll call him,” Jim says again, more firmly this time.

“Tell him to bring the team for a full debriefing,” Chris amends.

“Great!” Jon rubs his hands together. “That’s settled. How about we hurry up with dinner so we can get to that sleeping part?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at Pike.

The return of fire to Jim’s eyes is a welcome sight. Chris could have told Jim that Jon literally means “to sleep” but frankly he is glad to see his son worked up about something so silly. Though he would never tell Jon or Jim how alike they are, that doesn’t mean the similarities don’t tickle him.

He walks forward and lays a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t we relocate to the kitchen now?”

Jim’s expression turns hopeful. “Chinese?”

For the briefest moment, Chris’s eyes are tear-bright. “Whatever you want, son.”

McCoy’s frown deepens. “Now wait a minute. Chinese isn’t the healthiest—”

“It has vegetables,” Kirk points out too innocently.

Chris is definitely on Jim’s side. “My son can have what he wants as long as he promises to eat everything we put on his plate.”

Jim nods. “I can do that. What do you say, Bones? Join us?”

Leonard purses his mouth. “I suppose.” He looks to Chris. “But I get to decide what goes on his plate.”

“Be my guest, Leonard. I’ve been dying to hand off responsibility for Jim’s eating habits to someone else for years.” He tweaks his son’s hair with affection.

Jim cuts his eyes between them. “I’m not that bad.”

“Twinkies,” says Leonard.

“Dipped in Coca-cola, I hear,” adds Pike.

Jim ducks his head and shuffles his feet, muttering, “Whatever.”

Archer, who had returned momentarily to the kitchen, reappears beside Pike with two coats and a Chinese take-out menu in hand. The menu he shoves at McCoy; the extra coat he wraps around Pike’s shoulders. “Call in the order. Princess and I will go pick it up.”

Chris tenses without meaning to. “Jon, you don’t need me to…” His objection falters when he finds himself under the scrutiny of three different stares.

Jon commands in no uncertain terms, “You’re leaving this house, Christopher. Whether it’s on your own two feet or over my shoulder, that will be your choice.”

Leonard is more sympathetic. “I’ll stay with Jim.”

He must look panicked because it’s Jim who leans into him. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll be okay.”

Hands gently steer him towards the front door. Chris glances back to see that Leonard has taken up the position next to Jim and tucked an arm around Jim’s waist. Jim says something to McCoy, and the remaining line of stress between Leonard’s eyebrows vanishes. He pokes Jim in the collarbone. Jim uses that as an invitation to draw Leonard in.

Jon shifts to block Pike’s view of the pair and holds open the front door. He remarks in a quiet voice, “This time alone will be good for them.”

Jonathan is right, of course. With a soft sigh, Chris steps out of the house. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admits once the door is closed behind them.

Jon slips an arm across his shoulders. “You’re stronger than you think. Let me help you.”

He looks to the man who means a great deal to him, who has offered unfailing support through one of the worst experiences of his life. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“That’s a question I ask myself all the time.”

Chris huffs. “I hope you meant it in the reverse.”

Archer just grins, leading him to the truck stamped with the emblem of County Sheriff.

Chris’s anxiety nearly overwhelms when they back out of the driveway, but Jonathan takes a hold of his hand without being asked and the fear loosens its grip to the point that he can hear Jon talking. He tries to focus on that, until eventually, long after they turn the street corner, he is able to pull his gaze away from the rearview mirror. The anxiety is still there inside him, ever the sleeping beast, but no longer a constant threat. That gives him hope; maybe he can conquer it some day.

At last the gist of Archer’s conversation seeps into Christopher’s brain. Startled and certain he couldn’t have heard things correctly, he asks Jon, “What did you just say?”

“Oh, just that I knew you had the hots for me back at the Academy.”

Damn, he had heard the man correctly. “I never had the hots for you. You were an arrogant prick. Or did you forget that time I almost shot you?”

“You wanted my attention.”

“I wanted you to stop stalking me.”

“Christopher,” Jon says in mock surprise, “that was hardly stalking!”

“Then what was it?”

Archer squeezes Pike’s hand. “Hapless courtship.”

Chris opens his mouth to make a retort and surprises himself by saying instead, “You should have told me you were interested.”

“I know. What a dumb kid I was.” Jonathan rumbles after a moment, “Chris?”

Pike settles back into the passenger seat, more at ease than he thought possible. Yes, he can handle this separation from Jim after all. In baby steps. Jim can move back out when he’s forty. “What?”

Jon turns to look at him. “I’m interested.”

Chris studies him a moment before chiding lightly, “Eyes on the road, Sheriff.” When Archer faces away, he confesses, “I like you too.”

“Good to know,” the man murmurs.

Chris pushes the issue of Jim aside and reflects on his long history with Archer. The memories warm him, and he thinks that it has been some time since he felt this way, maybe since that one work partner he fondly called his “Number One”. Back then he might have even loved her—

Oh.

Oh.

He turns his head to study Archer’s profile.

When did he fall in love with Jonathan?

“What?” Jon asks curiously. “Do I have something on my face?”

“It’s nothing,” Chris responds at length, though he can’t help tighten his grip on Archer’s hand. For the first time in his life, he is uncertain of the timing, doesn’t know when or how he is supposed to express this newfound feeling. The detective in him wants to investigate further before deciding on a course of action.

Yes, it can wait, he tells himself. After all, Jon has made it very clear he is not leaving Chris’s side anytime soon.

In hindsight, that is a decision Christopher Pike will come to regret deeply.

The End

Some notes:
1. Initially the plan was to bring some emotional resolution for Archer’s insecurities. I thought about it, then thought about it some more and went with gut instinct. My gut says the way he’s feeling now is going to be a big driver (or hindrance) in the fight against Nero later on. He’s not ready to face what he perceives as his shortcomings – or even own up to feeling that way – so despite wanting that emotional payoff for him, we’ll have to wait. Hope that is okay.
2. What the heck? Jim didn’t pay the price for leaving out Pike, McCoy, and Archer in his decision-making! Yes, yes, I know. There will be ripple effects for such poor judgment. Pike may put Jim on a physical leash this time. Wouldn’t blame him.
3. Just what went down between Spock and McCoy? I have the feeling Spock will tell us later on. In fact I get this vibe that Spock has many important things to say about Kirk and McCoy. :P
4. The sequel is a real thing. I can’t promise to jump right on it but it will happen this year. Thank you to everyone who followed along with this particular story and encouraged me. I admit that I was nervous about coming back to the Holiday series. I see now that the characters were simply awaiting my return! I’m excited to find out how they tackle the Big Bad together. Until next time, dears!

Related Posts:

• Goodbye, Holidays (4/5) – from February 17, 2016
• Goodbye, Holidays (3/4) – from February 8, 2016
• Goodbye, Holidays (2/4) – from January 27, 2016
• Goodbye, Holidays (1/3) – from December 30, 2015

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