Title: River Bound (5/5)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: AOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Warnings: Stalking, Mind Control, Non-consensual Kissing
Summary: AU. When Kirk begins to receive anonymous love letters, he assumes they’re coming from his partners, unaware that he has attracted some unwanted attention. The situation turns perilous once Kirk realizes his mistake, for he has been ensnared by someone who wants to keep him from Spock and McCoy at any cost.
Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Parts Four and Five have been posted at the same time. Please read Part Four first if you have not.

“Lester has a record,” Mitchell reveals while a crying Jan is handcuffed and taken into custody. “Two counts of stalking and three counts of sexual harassment.” His gaze finds Jim’s. “Chances are you’re not her first attempt at ‘subduing’ a partner. One of the victims with a restraining order against her went missing last year, but no conclusive evidence has been found to link the case to her.” Something like regret passes across Gary’s face, lending more gravity to the cop’s already grim expression. “When a predator changes hunting ground, neighboring jurisdictions are usually notified. Ours wasn’t.”

Jim works past the lump in his throat, grateful for the supporting arm McCoy has around his waist. “Tell me what I need to do, Gary.”

“Come to the station and give a statement. We can talk about what comes after that.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Leonard asks.

“My son could use his family right now,” seconds Winona.

After a moment’s consideration, the officer nods. Then Mitchell meets Kirk’s gaze again.

Maybe Jim should say something, a simple thanks or ‘glad we’re not entirely dead to each other’, but in the end, there isn’t anything to be said that both of them don’t already know. Their history is complicated, cheery in the beginning when they were young, impetuous and stupid, and ugly by its end. Those bittersweet memories will always keep him and Gary connected. So there is truly no need to mend what remains broken between them, for despite it—or maybe because of it—the two of them have to continue looking out for one another, as there can be no one quite like Gary to Jim and no one like Jim to Gary.

Mitchell breaks eye contact as he moves back, out the hallway and door to the porch steps with Jim breaking away from McCoy to follow. The man glances back once to consider the men and women who have formed a semi-circle behind Jim before touching the edge of his police hat. “You folks take care now.”

Then the man is jogging down the stairs, making a twirling motion with one finger at a junior officer standing by the backseat car door of the police car that contains Lester. The young man moves to the driver’s side. Scattered across the yard, other policemen follow suit, returning to their vehicles, calling in status reports, pulling out onto the dirt road in single file.

Someone steps up to Jim’s side, an arm anchoring itself across Jim’s shoulders once the cars are a barely visible cloud of dust in the distance.

The man hums under his breath. “First time we had the police out here, and they didn’t take you with them when they left, baby brother.”

“Samuel George!” Winona gasps.

Both Kirk boys grin at their mother. Then Sam roughly musses his younger brother’s hair, prompting Jim to duck out from under Sam’s arm to attack the man’s head. They only manage a few decent shoves at each other before they’re interrupted.

“Sam!” Aurelan snaps, coming through the doorway.

Winona echoes, “Jim!” in the same annoyed tone.

“Aww,” Jim mutters, disappointed when his brother abandons their play-fight to escort his pregnant wife back into the house. But Sam winks at Jim before the hall shadows swallow him up, which means if Jim still desires a tussle later, his brother is definitely game. Better, decides Jim, to wait until Aurelan and their mother go to sleep.

Jim turns toward everyone else. Judging from McCoy’s expression, any brotherly fights should be after Leonard goes to sleep too. Spock, on the other hand, seems like he might be open to judging the winner. Scotty is simply entertained.

Except he says, “I’d stay but I’ve had my fill of excitement for the day. If you’re good, Jim, I’ll just be—”

“Come to the kitchen,” Winona interrupts. “You look like you could use an ice pack for your back, and I don’t want that spider making webs near my appliances.”

“I forgot Lucky!” cries Scotty, aghast. As he follows Winona into the house, he argues, “She doesn’t make webs.”

“Then what does she do?”

“Jim is definitely your son! I don’t know her purpose yet.”

Their voices fade to a murmur, leaving Kirk, Spock, and McCoy on the porch in the middle of an awkward silence. Jim and Leonard try to break that silence at the same time.

“You first,” Jim says with a magnanimous wave of his hand.

“No, you.” Leonard looks him over with concern. “What can I do? Do you need to sit down? Are you hurt?” He looks to Spock. “Should we take him to the hospital?”

Jim huffs. “Do I look hurt, Bones?”

That must have been the wrong thing for Jim to say because Leonard’s gaze narrows critically.

“You were the one thrown into a wall,” Jim reminds him.

“Yeah but you have been mind-controlled, which I can’t even believe is a thing in this town.” Pain flashes across McCoy’s face, then. “Kid, why’d you get yourself kidnapped?”

Jim hears what Leonard really means: How did this awful thing happen? Why couldn’t I prevent it?

“Bones, blame me all you want, just don’t blame yourself.”

That works. The agony in McCoy’s eyes recedes. “Blame who? Nobody’s at fault but that crazy woman!”

“That’s right, nobody but her.” And the person who supplied her with the spell in the first place. Jim glances at Spock, but Spock’s expression doesn’t give his opinion away.

Leonard purses his mouth. “Fine, I’ll save my pity for a boyfriend who doesn’t talk back.”

“Then good luck finding one,” Jim quips.

Leonard smiles.

A feeling of uneasiness nags at Jim but he chooses to ignore. “Can we go inside not? It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, you should rest, Jim.” Leonard places a hand on the back of Jim’s neck, which chases away Jim’s uneasiness. “Your mom put fresh sheets on your bed. How does a nap sound?”

“Food sounds better,” Jim remarks. His stomach agrees loudly.

“I suggest we eat first,” Spock says prudently.

Jim gives in to his flagging energy, allowing Spock to open the door for him and McCoy to escort him toward the kitchen where the sounds of his mother and Scotty engaged in a conversation return. Later, he will let both men tuck him into bed and hold him so that all three of them can be comforted. For now, it’s enough to know they are at his side and not going anywhere—and neither is he.

The digital clock on the bedside stand tells Jim it is after two a.m. when he wakes up from a dream that leaves him shivering. Slipping out of bed without disturbing its other occupants, he pulls on a robe to cover his pajamas and provide extra warmth. Then, knowing he won’t be able to sleep again for a while, he quietly makes his way to the first floor of the house. Sam is watching television in the living room, all signs of their confrontation with a maniac gone.

Jim takes a seat beside Sam on the couch. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Sometimes Aurelan wants the bed to herself.” Sam flips from an infomercial to an overseas basketball game. “She also kicks harder since she became pregnant.”

“You might deserve the kicking. You did knock her up.”

Sam snorts.

Jim assumes a comfortable slouch. “So, when do you find out the sex of the baby? …Or do you know?”

Sam pauses in his channel-flipping to eye Jim sideways. “Do you know?”

Not quite able to meet his brother’s gaze, Jim nods.

Sam’s attention returns to the television, seeming relieved but silent. It takes Jim a second to realize why. He could smack himself on the head for not thinking of it sooner. Even again, so rarely does Sam need or want reassurance about something. Jim should have known his wife and kid would be the exception.

He faces his brother. “They’re going to be fine, Aurelan and the baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jim goes on staring until Sam says, “What?”

“You can ask me about them whenever you want. I’ll tell you what I see.”

Sam looks faintly annoyed as he drops the remote control to his lap and meets Jim’s gaze. “I’m not going to force you into a vision, Jim.”

“If it’s for you, I don’t mind.”

“Why?”

Now Jim is annoyed. “What do you mean why? You’re Sam—an exception to the rule.”

His brother observes blandly, “Maybe.”

Jim sits up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just say it, baby brother.”

“Say what?” he snaps.

“That you love me.”

Jim clams up immediately, an age-old response of any sibling under pressure to admit to liking another sibling.

“You love me.” After speaking those soft words, Sam smiles. “And you’re really grateful I played knight in shining armor.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “You didn’t do anything but upset the microwave and nearly implode everybody. And seriously?” He rubs his shoulder, complaining petulantly, “Talk about overkill with the beating me against a wall several times thing.”

Sam turns back to the television, saying, “You’ll live,” followed by, “Get off my couch.”

“It’s my couch too.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I’m here now.”

To prove his point, Jim grabs the remote. Sam snatches it back. Jim claims one end, and the tug-of-war begins in earnest. Jim wins by gasping, “Aurelan!” which Sam falls for every time; in his brother’s moment of distraction, Jim leaps from the couch with the coveted remote and runs off with it.

He nearly collides with his mother in the hallway, skidding sideways at the last second into the side table. Winona rights him, plucks the remote from the floor and returns it to Sam, who is loitering in the archway between the hall and living room with the caution of someone who knows he’s in trouble. Jim, still caught in Winona’s grasp by the collar of his robe, watches Sam take the remote without comment and vanish into the next room.

Jim should have known. His brother isn’t a knight in shining armor. He’s a traitor!

Jim is casting about for some way to escape his impending scolding when Winona lets him go and opens her arms.

He stares at her as if he hasn’t seen her before, his ears suddenly ringing with the ugly accusation from days ago that made her cry. “Mom,” he starts, his throat working.

Her arms begin to lower. Jim exhales and walks into them.

“You’re the reason for my gray hairs, young man,” Winona informs him a minute later after he complains her hold is too tight.

“No fair,” he mutters against her shoulder. “Sam should get half the blame.”

“Sam is absolved of all past, present, and future transgressions. He’s giving me a grandbaby.”

Jim un-tucks his chin from the juncture between her shoulder and her neck to complain, “You always did like him better.”

She kisses the side of her son’s head as if he is still two years old. “You know it.”

Nothing more needs to be said. The exchange is another code of theirs: Jim is sorry, and Winona forgives him.

Winona releases him with a fond smile. “Do you want me to tuck you in?”

Jim smiles back. “That might be a problem for Spock and Bones.”

“Yes,” she replies, suddenly serious, “it might.” Then she orders him back to bed.

Upstairs, Leonard is hanging out next to the hallway bathroom with an air of apprehension.

Jim approaches him, teasing, “Did you get lost?”

“No, I was just wondering where you went.”

“Everything’s fine, Bones.”

Leonard’s expression turns to thoughtful consideration as Winona comes up the stairs behind Jim and gives Leonard a small nod before heading to her bedroom.

Jim takes McCoy’s hand, tugging Leonard to his old bedroom where Spock continues to sleep undisturbed, barely making any sound. Kirk and McCoy re-situate themselves, Jim on the edge with McCoy in the middle. It’s a tight fit on his queen-sized bed for three grown men, but they manage it somehow, as earlier that evening neither Spock nor McCoy could agree on who would use the guest room downstairs.

After several minutes of silence, Jim rolls onto his side to face Leonard, pillowing his head on his arm. “Are you asleep?”

“No.”

“Remember when I told you I have never had a vision for myself?”

McCoy’s eyes open, and the man turns his head sideways to look at Jim.

Jim decides Leonard isn’t saying anything because he’s simply waiting for Jim to continue. Jim does. “I dreamed while I was with Jan. Every image was of you or Spock, sometimes both. You were searching for me, then searching for a way to help me.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“It’s about time, Jim. You give people hope. Why shouldn’t some of that be for you, especially when you need it most?”

“Huh. I never thought about it that way—my ability, I mean.”

“Your gift,” Leonard emphasizes, turning his face back toward the ceiling, closing his eyes. “You’re a light in the darkness. It’s why I like you.”

Warmth spreads through Kirk. He chuckles softly. “I hope that’s not the only reason.”

“It’s not. Now shut up and try to sleep. At least one of us has to be semi-presentable when we talk to the police tomorrow.”

As a reply, Jim scoots forward to kiss McCoy’s cheek. Then, feeling impish, he whispers in his partner’s ear, “I like your grumpiness. It’s hot.”

“Shut up.”

Laughing, feeling more carefree than he has in days, Jim loops his arm around Leonard’s middle and does his best to obey, for when love is freely given, taking orders is no hardship at all.

The next morning, Winona walks her son and his guests out to the porch, where they make their goodbyes. The process of giving a statement at the police station will take hours, if not most of the day, and Jim has already made it known he wants to return to his apartment afterward.

Spock is silent during the exchange, and Leonard is usually polite.

Winona was quiet during breakfast and, beyond pleasantries, seems to have lost her remaining desire to speak. Jim shoves aside disappointment because he honestly has no energy for it, and starting a fight they can’t finish until later is a recipe for disaster.

It isn’t until Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are heading for McCoy’s parked car that Jim’s mother calls to them, pulling them up short.

She descends the porch, but instead of facing Kirk, she faces his companions.

“Ma’am?” Leonard inquires politely.

Winona lifts her chin slightly, and Jim, recognizing the warning sign of his mother about to dig in her heels over something, tries to intervene with “Mom, we’ll be late.”

“The police can wait.” Winona claps her hands in front of her, saying to Jim’s partners, “We have family dinners on Sunday. You’re invited.”

Jim’s mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Leonard stares momentarily, then clears his throat. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll consider—”

“I am vegetarian,” Spock interrupts.

Winona turns to Spock. “What do you like to eat?”

“Can you make lasagna?”

Jim’s mother purses, an indication of giving the inquiry serious consideration. “To be frank, Mr. Spock, I have never made lasagna for a vegetarian.”

“I see,” Spock replies gravely. “Then it may be challenging.

A gleam comes into Winona’s eyes. “This family appreciates challenges. Please arrive a few hours early if you can. I think you and I shall attempt the lasagna for vegetarians together.”

Spock’s dark eyes gleam too, though more likely at the prospect of a cooking lesson than anything else. The last time Jim allowed him to operate a stove, he became distracted by The Bachelor and nearly set the apartment on fire. Jim has a bad feeling about all of this.

“Understood,” Spock says. “May I have your cell number, Mrs. Kirk? I will text you once my phone is in my possession.”

“No!” Jim and Leonard cry at the same time. They each latch onto one of the half-blood’s arms.

“Gotta go, Mom,” Jim chimes insistently, lending his strength to McCoy’s in hustling Spock away from the porch.

Spock protests this leave-taking every step of the way. “Jim, it is crucial that I text your mother in advance of the lasagna experiment. I must have her number.”

“No,” Jim mutters firmly. “We need to teach you how to text properly first.”

“Bye!” Winona calls, waving at them. “Jim, give your boyfriends my number!”

Spock’s brows relax at this suggestion.

Jim faces Spock toward the car. “Not gonna happen. Don’t think about it.”

“But your mother—”

Leonard comes to Jim’s defense, sticking a finger under Spock’s nose, which Spock looks at cross-eyed. “Listen up. What just happened here was an olive branch. Jim and I aren’t going to let you send it up in flames just because you like heart and poop emojis.”

Winona watches them a second later, then goes into the house.

“I would, of course, send neither of those things,” argues Spock, keeping his voice as hushed as theirs. “As the matriarch of her family, Winona Kirk is worthy of the Rainbow and the Clapping Hands.”

Jim presses a hand to his face.

Leonard groans. “We love you, Spock, we do. But trust us, when it comes to communication with humans, you’re still in the beginner’s stage.”

Spock looks at them as if he cannot decide whether or not to feel insulted.

“If it helps,” Jim says, “you can text me all the rainbows and clapping hands you want.”

Spock steps out of their grasp, deciding with a delicate sniff, “I will consider your proposal.” Then the elfin man makes a graceful half-bow and sails around the car.

Jim looks to Leonard. “You okay with this?”

“With family dinners, or with your mom?”

“Both. Either.”

Leonard squeezes his boyfriend’s hand. “I will be. Only good thing to come from this mess is that showing your mother how much you mean to Spock and me. What we have won’t be something any of your folks can easily dismiss.”

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim says, not for the first time and for many reasons.

Leonard hooks him in, pressing their foreheads together. “Psycho stalker or not, you made us a promise at the beginning. Don’t think we’ll let you go without a fight, Jim.”

Jim smiles to hear that. He pulls back, glancing over his shoulder in time to note the curtains over the kitchen window are moving. Ah, so his mother is still watching them.

“I’ll be okay too,” he decides.

“I hope so. Now, for god’s sake, tell Spock to get out of the driver’s seat. He’s not licensed, and I don’t want to have to replace another car.”

Jim grins, lifting his hands with a gesture of what can we do? “You said we could teach Spock about humans more quickly if we dated him.”

Leonard responds with a constipated look.

“Annnd you regret that decision every day,” Jim singsongs for the man, slipping an arm around McCoy’s waist to escort him to the other side of the car. “Luckily, Bones, you have me. We can regret your life choices together.”

From inside the car, as he adjusts the driver’s side seat to accommodate his long legs, Spock has something to say about that. “Gentlemen, need I remind you both that a Blood’s hearing is superior to that of a human’s? There is nothing to regret.”

Jim agrees happily, “No, Spock, I don’t believe there is.”

The End

This story was a fun ride for the author. I hope the same can be said for the readers!

I did intentionally weave some hints of bigger issues into the narrative and, of course, provided just enough backstory to be tantalizing. You see, when I started this story, it immediately occurred to me that a “bordertown” Riverside might be an AU worth revisiting in the future. Should that happen, the sequel will be titled River Mad, because madness is more rampant in Riverside than one might think. ;)

Related Posts:

• River Bound (4/5) – from February 27, 2018
• River Bound (3/4) – from February 22, 2018
• River Bound (2/4) – from February 14, 2018
• River Bound (1/4) – from February 14, 2018