STAR TREK IMAGINES

Captain James T. Kirk

"Your father and I were the last on the bridge, I regret not arguing with him further at least enough to convince him to go to his wife."
I retold my story of the day the Kelvin crashed to a young man, who told me he was Jim Kirk.
"He was so adamant I got out of there, then again I shouldn't have expected any less that's what your dad was like you see, he always, always had to be sure everyone else was safe before he was"
He hummed still intently listening shockingly, ever since my accident most take me as a crazy old woman.
"Eventually things became so intense he shoved me out the door, locking himself on the bridge so I couldn't get back in. When it happened I was so annoyed that he was being so stubborn, they don't tell you how many regrets you'll have to live with when you chose this kinda life."
I paused when I could see the look in his eyes like he wanted to speak
"You and my dad were like brother and sister right?"
He asked gently, clearly on the verge of crying
"Yes, we were like siblings so much so that I was the first person George told about your mothers pregnancy. They were so happy"
I remembered both of them fondly, I wasn't able to keep in contact with Winona after the ship was destroyed as far as I knew there was no bad blood between us, just a lack of communication.
"How did you make it off the ship?"
He asked again, this time he was crying just a few tears but it easy to see how much this conversation was truly affecting him.
"It was in the nick of time, we were almost a minute from crashing when I got to the shuttle bay by a pure miracle there was only one left. I took the shuttle and left as quickly as I could, from what I know only a few seconds after I left you were born then"
His eyes closed and I could see his tears fall, understanding just how important it probably was for him to hear this.
"May I ask you a questions that mind sound a little stupid?"
His voice was shaky, but still clear
"Of course"
"You've had a chance to read my personal file- have I done enough?"
Out of context no one would understand what he meant, it took me a moment too but it made sense after a moment
"Yes, your father would be proud to call you his son"
Watching Jim process what I said, seeing him thinking, brought me to tears despite how well I had been doing.
"Thank you y/n"
He straightened up suddenly, clearly not a fan of crying over a strangers bed.
"You're welcome Jim, would you give your mother my best wishes"
We said our goodbyes and the door closed behind him, a sudden dread came over me, a dread that I wasn't going to get out of this bed again. As I laid there thinking of all the horrible, painful ways I might die, the memories of my time on the kelvin fought their way to the front.