On the Edge (Staring into the Abyss)

[madimpossibledreamer]

Happy Halloween!
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Star Trek (the 2009!movie verse)/Constantine crossover
Summary: While paying his respects to the Goddess Temperantia, Kirk finds himself a lot more introspective and a lot more sober than he prefers to be when he's thinking about things other than monsters preying on the intelligent lifeforms of the various galaxies.  Fortunately, he gets a call from a certain Vulcan Captain, so maybe he'll have another case to take his mind off of things.
Word Count: 1360
Rating: Teen

          It’s three weeks and he’s beginning to suspect that his little joke about Temperantia sending temptation his way wasn’t so much of a joke.  It’s not entirely a surprise.  He’s pissed off gods and goddesses the whole world over; what’s one more?  Aside from the whole ‘it was just from his existing’ thing, not the ‘mouthing off’ or even the ‘screwing over’ thing, because that one’s a little more new.
          The thing is, he’d been thinking it was a good thing, that he could establish a pattern, no matter the itch under his skin for some fun, no matter that he can see the fire, sometimes, in the walking dead man’s eyes, when he looks.  The issue is that, when he’s actually thinking about it properly and not dying, he has an addictive personality, and he’s addictive to other people, too, who tend to get swept into his wake.  The thing is, he’s falling hard and fast and knows, just knows, that when he hits rock bottom, it’s going to break every rib in his chest, and he half doesn’t even care.  And he’s having to deal with all of this sober.
          The good Doctor hates shuttles and space travel of every kind, and will rattle off every brutal way to die with little to no provocation.  He’s caustic and sharp and Jim’s going to cut himself on the edges, but he’s used to bleeding.  It’s the rest he doesn’t know what to do with.  Bones is gruff, but he cares, burns like a flame only it’s warmth and not pain, and that’s…he’ll admit it, terrifying.  So when it gets too much, he mouths off, and McCoy will dutifully list all the ways he’s a damn fool or insult right back (inventive, even he’s impressed) and it eases the itch to take off.
          The thing is, Leonard got just as attached, just as quickly.  And it’s not like he’s not useful.  For once, one of Jim’s selfish desires had actually come to some good.  He’d only had to use a dermal regenerator near his wrist (though if he had been any slower, the animated scarecrow would’ve cut a tendon or lopped his arm off) on Jim, but he’d managed to save a local sheriff or whatever.  He’s not quite sure of the proper translation, even if the spell is, and no, he’s not using a Universal Translator, he’s a magician, are you mad?  And while that group of kidnapped kids wouldn’t have died without medical attention, it sure hadn’t hurt, even if, by the looks of things, a little light show kept them calm enough.
          Moments make him pause, though.  Moments like that soft, fond look Bones hides quickly enough when he’s keeping the children calm.  Longing, even.  He misses his daughter, clearly.  Jim weighs the benefits of offering to use a spell so the man can at least watch over his daughter, if not see her, and still hasn’t decided whether the gesture would be cruel or kind.  Moments where Leonard is fierce and hungry, thirsting for the knowledge Jim has locked in his brain.  It’s intoxicating, really, to be the focus of that much attention.  He sees the genius doctor that Starfleet was just dying to get its hands on, and probably more besides.  The man loves learning.  He enjoys every second of learning about new lifeforms, though he’s convinced himself that they’re just…really old, really powerful lifeforms, rather than demons, or ghosts, or whatever else goes bump in the night.  It’s hard to tell whether the hangup is religion or logic, but Jim doesn’t ask.  Moments where it’s become clear that it’s not just the mystery, not just the rush, not just the adventure.  As unhealthy as it is, McCoy has attached himself to Jim.
          It’s a bad idea.  Not as bad as it would have been for one of his ancestors.  He’ll never live up to the Laughing Magician (though he’s half sure that’s because the man’s still alive, to prevent the ensuing demonic civil war, and also because sometimes it feels like the title, the power, isn’t really his), and he’s not constantly riding the Synchronicity Wave (bad for him, good for those around him).  But Jim Kirk is still a curse, just like the rest of his bloody bloodline, starting with his dad, his brother and sister-in-law, and on and on.  It’s not safe, and just the fact that the man can’t stay dead, for the moment anyway, doesn’t mean it’s any safer to stay around him.
          But then, it’s not the first bad idea he’s ever had, and somehow, without even trying, he’s managed to end up with yet another who would be happy to die on his behalf (and already has, three times) and he has to wonder how that happens, because it’s not like he’s even doing it on purpose.  Half of them are the good kind, too, the kind that have much better things to do than look out for an asshole like him.  The world’s strange, and wonderful, and terrible, and he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it.
          At least Bones is still questioning him, or he’d wonder about side effects of the Ring of Solomon.  That hadn’t happened before, but sometimes magic interacted unexpectedly—rather like medicine, in that regard, and he still hasn’t figured out why McCoy isn’t dying permanently, which is part of why he’s so worried about the guy having a death wish (even if he doesn’t show it, because he still hasn’t figured out how to do feelings).
          “Starfleet?  Are you completely out of your cornfed mind?”  This is the first shuttle ride that Bones has complained about something other than danger, disease, and darkness.
          Jim smiles at him, but it seems like the effect of his flirtatious smiles has gone, too, over the last couple weeks.  Briefly he considers alternative ways of distracting the doctor and reluctantly banishes all naughty thoughts.  It’s not like he can act on them anyway.  He’d rather keep his word, if only because no one expects him to actually manage it.  “Captain Spock’s the one calling me in, so he owes me.  And he knows that if he tries anything Admiral Pike will do everything he can to make sure he loses the Captain’s chair.”
          “And me?”  Leonard does actually look worried at this point.
          “My protections extend to you, as my lovely assistant.”  He waggles his eyebrows, because he can still flirt.  At least, no Goddesses have popped up to smite him where he stands, so he’s going to go with that’s okay and something something his nature something.  The snort Jim hoped for is involuntary, and Bones instantly twists his face into a scowl.  “And if that fails, well…”  His voice turns a little dark as he continues, “I’ve dug a lot of skeletons out of a lot of closets.  I could teleport them all into the middle of Starfleet Command if pushed, like some sort of gruesome Halloween display.”  It’s a metaphor.  Sort of.  Carol’s off checking into Pike’s suspicion, which might wind up being a dragon-sized skeleton.  Had practically jumped at the chance when she’d learned her father might be involved, which means it has a high likelihood of going horribly wrong.  Jim’s trying not to think about it, which means the thoughts sneak up and pounce when he’s not looking.
          “I suppose you do know your gruesome,” Bones acknowledges gruffly.  From anyone else it’d probably be an insult.  And then he stops talking entirely when the Enterprise comes into view.
          Jim knows the feeling.  And falls, just a little bit further.  “Every time I visit Spock I have to remind myself of all the reasons a mutiny is a terrible idea, starting with I have no idea what I’m doing because I didn’t go to Starfleet and haven’t piloted anything bigger than a shuttle.”
          “Becoming a pirate would be a bad way to announce I’m still alive,” Leonard agrees, still wistful as he watches.  Bad.  Not worst.  Interesting.  He files that away under ‘I’d love to explore it but he’d probably kill me slowly if I ever tried to play with the idea’.