Chapter Text
Khan had lived in this skin for so long now, he had forgotten what he looked like to casual eyes. He no longer resembled his portraits in Earth's history books, no longer looked like the famous Khan Noonien Singh. But Khan did not see himself as others saw him. He did not see the altered pigment of his skin, or the cruel cut of his hair, nor did he give much thought to the new antibodies swimming in his system now that he had forcibly been exposed to modern and alien diseases. It was therefore jarring to be seen as a white man, when his whiteness was a product of Admiral Marcus, a camouflage to hide the augment out in the open. But more than that, it was upsetting that his own people only saw the whiteness of his skin, the tampering he had endured, and not the man he still was under the surface.
It was just a body after all. A tool, a weapon, a vessel. His mind had not been altered, his sense of self; his heart still roared.
Or it did, once.
Initially, Khan had suffered six broken ribs, a punctured lung, a shattered pelvis, a shattered collarbone, his left arm broken in three spots, his right, in two. And he had bled enough to make his black hair look damp, obscuring his face almost beyond recognition. It had been a severe beating, a cruel one, meant to cause pain before the end. The other augments had been angry, enraged by the alternations their beloved leader had undergone. So, they sought to correct it, to strip Khan of Admiral Marcus's influence, to undo the way he had been reshaped. It meant killing him.
It meant two weeks in a bio-bed, healing by means of modern medicine and his own augmented abilities.
His family, those he loved most dearly, had rejected him. He was no longer loved. He was unwanted. He was dead to them. He was alone now. And there was no one to look to for comfort. Only a familiar cell. A cage he would have to endure, but no longer for the noble cause of saving his people, but because there was no alternative.
Collapsing to the floor of his cell when he was first brought there, Khan attempted to relieve himself of the pain, crying and screaming. His heart in his chest was heavy, and it crushed him, pulled him down. Everything he had done out of love, had not been enough. He was not enough. This was the most devastating blow Khan had ever known.
The question was, what would Starfleet do with him now. Would they hand him back over to Section 31? Or to someone far worse? Would they put him under? Or should he do that himself. By his own hands, succeed where his people had failed.
* * *
It was supposed to have been a last set of readings from the newly established colony; a final indication before the Enterprise ventured forth on her five-year mission that the augments were ready to embark on their own adventure- building a new life. Jim had fought for that moment, driven by the information that had been leaked from Section 31 as Starfleet dismantled it from the inside out and the memory of a single tear. Against the advice of many of his crew and closest friends, Jim Kirk had gone before the Federation Council and argued that the augments deserved another chance, a world of their own, away from the rest of the human race. And in that, he had succeeded, in some ways against his own expectations.
This last scan was supposed to be a moment of triumph.
Instead, it was a horrible clusterfuck.
All things were not well planetside. Specifically, all things were not well with Khan Noonien Singh. The readings indicated that he was being injured beyond all reason, and the inflictors of this punishment were the very people Khan had worked so hard to protect. His own damn family.
Jim had the augment beamed to Sickbay and ordered the Enterprise to leave orbit and head on their way. He called Bones, only to receive word that the augment had been taken to surgery. Nurse Chapel had informed him that Dr. McCoy looked a bit grim as they took the augment away, but that he left word that Khan’s injuries were not fatal.
Jim’s ensuing call to Starfleet had been unpleasant to say the least, but somehow, he persuaded them not to turn the Enterprise around, to allow them to take Khan on their five year voyage. And Jim had been so engrossed in making his case to Starfleet (and his crew) that he (almost) forgot to worry about the injured man. Besides, he trusted Bones to make sure that the augment recovered. Physically, at least. Mentally and emotionally would be another question.
That duty would lie with the captain of the Enterprise.
Two and a half weeks later, Jim squared his shoulders as he entered the brig, dismissed all of the on-duty officers with a wave of his right hand and proceeded straight to the only occupied cell. He wasn’t going to watch Khan tearing himself apart any longer ... he didn’t care what the ship’s counselor said, leaving Khan alone wasn’t working. His behavior screamed of agony, and Jim knew from personal experience that stewing in misery by yourself didn’t make anything better. He lowered the field, stepped inside the cell and closed it behind him, before slowly sitting cross-legged across from the augment. “Hello, Khan,” he said quietly.
Though Doctor McCoy and his medical team had physically healed Khan completely, the augment carried the muscle memory of his attack, he could still feel the hands of his people on him, expressing themselves in violence. He could still feel their anger towards him, their disgust at his altered state, their confusion and refusal to acknowledge him as the leader they once loved.
Khan was grieving. His people lived, and yet he had lost them. His people ... weren't his people any more.
The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, stained by tears that no longer fell. Hypersensitive in this state, Khan flinched at the light as he looked up, eyes sore as he attempted to keep Kirk in his sights. Under different circumstances, Khan would have been embarrassed to be seen in this state, but for the moment, he could not put on airs of strength he did not have.
He regarded Kirk quietly, uncertain as to why the man had joined him in his cage, why he was sitting on the floor with him, why he was speaking to him. But his questions were left unasked, as he could not even bring himself to address Kirk as 'Captain' in his usual sardonic way. Instead, Khan waited to hear Kirk and by extension, Starfleet's judgement upon him.
Jim assessed the way Khan looked and felt a pang at how far the mighty Khan had fallen under the weight of his family's betrayal. Because that’s what it had been. He then glanced around the sterile environment of the cell and made an instant decision.
“I was hoping you might be willing to move into your new quarters today. There’s an open space near me. Nothing too fancy, but it's a designated visitor’s quarters that we can give to you on a permanent basis, and it’s certainly nicer than this room. You don’t belong in the brig, and I don’t want to see you in here another minute. Will you come with me to see them?” He held out a hand to the augment, fingers curling in a beckoning motion.
Hoo boy, Spock and Bones were going to kill him when they found out about this, but Jim didn’t care. He needed to extend an olive branch to this man, find a way to reach him, and a kind first gesture seemed appropriate. Besides, he hadn’t been lying, Khan didn’t deserve to be locked up. If he had earned any punishment for past actions, it had been well and truly given to him.
The once great and mighty Khan had been reduced to the state of a shaking kicked dog. He shied away from Kirk's words, looking to the floor with a frown. He didn't belong here? He belonged in visitors quarters? He was now a guest on the Enterprise? Khan then stared at the offered hand, the way it invited Khan to reach out and touch was almost terrifying. But if nothing else, Khan was a chaotic mess of fearless and damage. He stood and gave his cage one last hesitant look, before he nodded at Kirk, consenting to this new arrangement.
“Good!” Jim said and stood to drop the forcefield and escort Khan out of the brig. He waved away the guards again at the entrance and said, “You can return to your regular duties,” before heading down the corridor with the augment. Every crewmember they saw, he greeted with his usual warmth and calm, demonstrating that nothing unusual was going on here. Many turned to watch them pass, and more than a few backed away from Khan, but nobody in any way embarrassed their captain or made any move to question what was going on. They trusted him, and it made Jim feel warm and fuzzy.
Still, he was more than grateful to reach their destination and open the door to Khan. “Here we are. Your new home ... at least for the next five years or so. I hope you like it.” He wandered into the middle to encourage Khan to follow and look around.
Treating Khan as not a threat in a way helped make it so. The ship's Captain didn't just walk corridors alone with a prisoner; a danger to the ship and her crew was not just left unattended or invited to roam the halls. So in this way, Jim was having an unspoken dialogue with Khan, implying that his position had changed. Which was true enough. Khan's position had changed so drastically since his people had condemned him, that he did not know where he stood anymore, anywhere.
But Kirk knew where he stood. Kirk had the respect and loyalty of his people. He had the answers.
"Five years?" Khan finally spoke, voice low and slightly raw. He had not used his voice much recently, and when he had, it had been in distress. "I am to travel with the Enterprise?"
“If you want,” Jim said. “If you’re dead set against it, we can look at other options. But I thought, given the circumstances, you might find traveling with us the best option. And there are plenty of opportunities for you aboard, if you care to exercise them. I know you have a diverse skill set, and there’s plenty needs doing. “You’d be a member of the crew, outside of Starfleet, of course. You’d have to follow regulations and my orders.” He looked to Khan and then said with quiet honesty, “I’d like very much for you to find a place on my ship, Mr. Singh.”
He held very still to await the augment’s decision, knowing this might be a critical moment for them both. The other man was badly wounded, wary and untrusting, with very little reason anyway to believe in the words of a Starfleet captain. “Please.”
Khan gave the room his attention, along with Kirk's words. There was order here. A bed, blankets folded. A desk, chair pushed in. Closet space, to keep clothing organized.
Starfleet. The Enterprise. Kirk. These were structures Khan had previously attempted to undermine and bring down. Giving them his allegiance was out of the question. And yet, Kirk was asking for just that. Asking a former enemy to join his crew. That seemed suspicious. Was this some sort of new tactic to manipulate him? Admiral Marcus had been very direct in his demands. Follow orders or his people would be killed. But now Kirk and the rest of Starfleet no longer had Khan's family as a bargaining chip to play. So, why manipulate him? What did Starfleet and Kirk still want with him?
And yet, there was an appeal to the offer. Not just the creature comforts, the bed, the privacy, the illusion that he was wanted, but the idea of following orders and regulations did not bother Khan as much as perhaps one would expect. In fact, that sort of hierarchy was something Khan was well familiar with. For a man who was once on top, but was now feeling displaced, a sense of structure was very appealing.
"I take orders from you?" He asked cautiously, needing a sense of where he stood.
“I am the Captain of this vessel,” Jim said quietly, “and I need you to follow my orders. As you integrate into the crew, which I hope you will want to do, we’ll find a place for you in the command structure as a whole. Formally, you can’t be a part of Starfleet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a role here, a place. We can work together to determine what tasks you might want to take on, how you want to contribute. You’re a brilliant man, and I want you to have the opportunity to use your brilliance on projects you want to do, not ones you’ve been forced into. Does that make sense?”
"You are the Captain." Khan repeated. For once, his tone did not reflect any sort of subtle mocking as he used the title. Instead, he repeated it as a means of reprogramming himself. Kirk was Captain. Kirk was leader. Khan was not the leader. However, the augment was still far from being at ease. "May I ask you, Sir-" he began, using the title as a form of respect and further acknowledging Kirk's authority, despite the fact that Khan was much older than the young Captain "-why you have decided to keep me aboard?"
“I wanted all of you to have a second chance,” Jim said. “You deserve one as much as anyone else. What good does locking you in a cell do?” He dropped his gaze, expression pained. “I’m so sorry that things went badly for you ... with your people. If you ever want to talk about it-” he lifted his gaze again, meeting Khan’s eyes firmly “-I’m always available to you. Hell, if you want to talk about anything, Khan, I’m here for you. That’s part of being captain, too. The welfare of my crew is my primary concern, and you’ve been part of this ship since we brought you aboard.”
Khan had never gone to others with his worries, his fears, his pain. And though Kirk's offer appeared genuine, he was not about to start now. The augment was still deeply shamed by how events had transpired, that he had been found unworthy. Khan turned his head to the side, staring firmly at the crease of two walls and the point at which they met. He was not yet done grieving, but showed restraint while Kirk was present. "You are aware then, of what happened?" Khan had no memory of how he had come to be on board the Enterprise, only a few conscious states in the biobed while he underwent surgery and long-term healing care.
“Only that you were hurt,” Jim said, expression and tone clearly projecting how unacceptable that was. “Why ... well, that’s for you to tell me if you ever want to. It’s none of my business otherwise. I brought you aboard for your protection, but I’ve offered you a place because I want you here, if you choose to stay. Starfleet took a few days to give me permission, which is why I didn’t have more contact with you after your release from Sickbay. I shouldn’t have waited, though. I’m sorry.”
"You have provided me with sanctuary, when the easy choice would have been to leave me." Khan swallowed, knowing he owed Kirk a thank you, even though part of him felt he should have been left to his own people's judgement. But now, Kirk was responsible for his life, not the other augments. "You have spoken in my defense ..." Sometimes the good in humanity truly was a marvel. "Thank you." His life had been worth saving. That was a start.
“You are most welcome,” Jim said, feeling that now was the time for formality. He looked over the other man and asked, “If I may, when was the last time you had anything to eat or drink? Would you care to join me for some lunch? We can stay in your quarters and just use the table.” He gestured to the object, tucked in a side of the room. “And we can talk about what comes next or just sit and eat quietly. Whatever you prefer.”
"I cannot recall," Khan answered the Captain's question. When he was still in the medical bay, he had been given intravenous supplements in favour of forcing the augment to eat. "But I do not have an appetite." Regardless of his words however, Khan needed to eat. And he needed the company. "May I sit, Captain?" Khan asked, finding it straining to put up a front of strength when he was barely held together by thin strands of willpower.
“Yes. Please do,” Jim said and despite Khan’s words, went to the replicator. He pulled up simple meals of sweetened oatmeal and steaming chai (he was taking a guess there) for them both. Carrying them over to the table, he placed bowl and cup in front of Khan and said, “Please eat with me. I hate to eat alone. And if you need, I’ll make that an order.” He took a chair across from the augment and dug into his own food, trying to set a good example.
The sweet, rich smell of chai made Khan's nostrils flare, eagerly drawing the familiar scent into his senses. The fact that Kirk was insisting by presenting Khan with food, and even gently threatening to make it an order, did in fact help. Reaching out for the cup of chai, Khan stroked his thumb along the side of the warm mug in thought.
Then abruptly, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, Khan began to speak openly. "Engineered humans, or augments, as is the common term, have extremely heightened senses. Sight. Sounds. Taste. Touch. Many first generations were highly empathetic too, sympathizing with others easily, reading human behaviours with ease. However, they found the experience too overwhelming and were considered failures to their creators. Too emotional. It inhibited them from their function. So the other senses were fine tuned, and empathy was all but a fleeting shadow." Khan continued to pet the side of his mug, words coming easily to him with this small comfort at his fingertips.
"My people ..." He paused, realizing he would have to cull himself of the habit of referring to them as his. They were not his people any more. "They are prime specimens of our engineering. As am I. However, I have been altered since they last knew me ... and it is an offense to the senses. A violation."
“So, you’re saying empathy was designed out of you,” Jim said, “and that they attacked you because Marcus fucked with your appearance?” He frowned and contemplated that for a few moments. “That doesn’t really explain you, nor does it pardon them for their actions. For such perfect specimens, they certainly showed a remarkable lack of wisdom. What sense does it make to attack one of your own over a change in skin color and facial structure? Your abilities are not lost- your strength, your intelligence, certainly not your fierce desire to protect them- and they threw all that away for nothing.” He took a sip of chai to try and calm himself, thinking being over emotional may not help the other man. “Whatever the reason, you didn’t deserve that, Khan, and I am sorry.”
"Consider Captain, you have a dog." Khan said, attempting to illustrate it in a way Kirk might understand as the augments did. "He is your favourite companion and you know everything about him. Then one day he is taken by the butcher and cut up into dozens of parts. And then those parts are sewn back together on another dog. It still has the heart and brain of your dog, and yet it's not the same." A firm frown settled across Khan's features. "The alterations done to me mean I no longer resemble the man they were loyal to. The way I look, the texture of my skin, even the way I smell, it tarnishes the memory of the leader they loved." Finally lifting the mug to his lips, Khan took a few slow sips. "That was the reason for the attack. That was why they preferred me dead."
Jim’s whole face screwed up at the description, and he said, “I sure as Hell wouldn’t kill the poor dog! The fault is with Marcus, the butcher ... if we’re sticking with this horrifying metaphor. But regardless, you didn’t deserve that, Khan.”
He forced himself to eat a spoonful of oatmeal, knowing he needed to continue to serve as an example to encourage Khan to continue his own breakfast. “You know that Starfleet dismantled all of the organizations that Marcus built up? The Federation Council is going to take over a much more aggressive supervision of all Starfleet activities to help prevent such a thing from ever happening again. Marcus did a lot of horrible things to a lot of people, it turns out, but I think he broke all his records with you, since you were not even known to exist, so you had nobody to turn to.” He scowled in memory of all the things he’d read and heard about Marcus doing.
The analogy wasn't sound. Instead of a man and his dog, Khan and his people were more like a pack of wolves, and Khan had been their alpha. And any weakness or fault in their leader needed to be destroyed. In this case however, Khan was getting a new chance. He was no longer leader, and the crew of the Enterprise were not wolves, they were a collective of varying personalities, rabbits and tigers, snakes and hawks, horses and antelope, coexisting as one pack, one herd, if one were to maintain the metaphor. All serving loyally under Captain Kirk.
Perhaps Khan could find a place among them.
As Kirk explained that the work Admiral Marcus pursued had been undone, Khan gave a simple nod. Starfleet's intervention had not saved him, or those before him, but there was some comfort in knowing it would not happen again. Almost a comfort at least, as Khan was still not entirely trusting. And yet he followed Kirk's lead, quietly eating a few mouthfuls of oatmeal.
Pleased, Jim dug in more heartily to his own breakfast, asking around the fifth spoonful, “Is this flavor to your taste? I find the replicator can handle these simpler meals pretty well, especially if you work at the programming. Feel free to explore the menu and see what meets your fancy. However, the primary place to eat meals is in the mess hall. There is the main one and one for the officers, though we don’t use it very often. When you feel up to it, I’d like to see you join in eating your meals there. But only when you’re ready.”
“And of course, please look at all the different options for where you might want to work,” he added. “I’ll take you on a tour of the Enterprise and introduce you to all the different departments, if you want.”
"It is suitable, Captain. Thank you." The oatmeal was just sweet and substantial enough to fill his stomach. It was simple, and did not require much effort to eat, nor any difficult decision on his part to make. He was uncertain about eating in the more public venue any time soon, though he could see Kirk was making a very insistent effort to include Khan in the ship's activities. Lifting his gaze from his bowl, Khan looked across the small table at Kirk. For a moment, an alarming voice at the back of his head questioned how it was he had come to follow Kirk here, accepting his help, and eating with him with such familiarity. But the voice faded, as he detected no threat, and his pride had been so crushed, that he was truly grateful for any company at all.
Jim frowned a little when Khan answered only his first question, but did not push the other man, thinking that was the wrong move at this time. He allowed a companionable silence for a few moments and then broached the topic from another angle, rather out of left field. “I’ve had a few bad nights, even aboard my Gray Lady, where I can’t sleep and I’m too restless and upset even to want to just hide in my room. And then I let my feet wander and take me where they will. Usually, I find myself in one of two places- the gym or the viewport in the smallest lounge, watching the stars. Have you had places like that, Khan, where you went for a moment’s peace?”
Allowing the memory to plow into him, Khan sat back in his chair. "Yes," he said quietly. It felt like several lifetimes ago. Khan sipped at his chai again, nearly finishing it. His mind drifted through long lost landscapes, secret companions, and late night walks under the stars. "Peace and quiet was rare. As I imagine it is for you, Captain." Since the topic mentioned moments of vulnerability, Khan was surprised to hear Kirk bring it up. But then something clicked in his understanding of the young captain- Kirk wasn't afraid to be seen as human. It was a simple, and very honest thing and somehow allowed Khan to relax in his presence. "Perhaps one of those nights, we might pass one another in the halls."
“Perhaps,” Jim said, “but I hope we interact more than on those occasions. No matter what you choose to do aboard the Enterprise, Khan, I’d like to be involved, if you don’t mind my presence.” He paused slightly, something occurring to him. “Say, what is your proper form of address? Or, more to the point, what would you like to be called? I want to use what you prefer. For instance, when we get to know each other better, and you feel comfortable with it, you can call me Jim. At least, off-duty. You’ll notice Dr. McCoy and I don’t stand on formality with each other, but that’s all right under my command style.”
When he had first surrendered himself to Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise, it had been such a relief to announce his true name and not be called by the designate Admiral Marcus had assigned him, John Harrison. "It is acceptable to address me as Khan." To him, it was a name and title, all in one, that he still identified with. And while Mr. Singh was formal and also a tolerable form of address, Khan did not enjoy the social implications. While Noonien was far too personal, as only his creator had ever called him by that name.
This was important information. Khan had previously overheard Doctor McCoy and Kirk speak to one another on familiar terms, even with a few other crewmen as well. At the time, Khan had been scandalized by the informal exchanges. But hearing Kirk now explain that this was the structure he preferred helped give Khan direction. A first name basis was encouraged. In time, he would adapt.
"How do you mean, involved, Sir?" Khan asked, stuck on that particular word. "How do you foresee my integration?"
“It never does anyone any good not to have some sort of role, some sort of contribution to make, and I think that applies to you even more than other people,” Jim said. “You are not a prisoner on my ship, Khan, and even though you can’t be a formal member of Starfleet, I still want you as part of the crew. With your mind, I’m sure you can contribute in a lot of different departments. But I want you to choose one for yourself. You can even do rotations to test run multiple departments, if that sounds more appealing. There are certain areas you can’t access as a non-Starfleet member, but those limitations are not that numerous. It may not be what you envisioned for your future, Khan, but I believe you can find a place on the Enterprise.”
"Yes, Captain." Kirk was right. Khan needed a role, a function. Something to get him through each day, where his presence mattered. Where his skills could be put to positive use, and he would not be allowed to collapse further in on himself. "I will rotate between departments, until we find a suitable fit," he said, finally agreeing to Kirk's optimistic notion that Khan could be a part of the crew. A good fit meant more than just where Khan enjoyed the work, it also meant scheduling the augment with crewmen who were not afraid to work with him.
“Excellent!” Jim enthused and did some quick thinking. “I’ll get you a list of all the departments and you can choose your top ten to do rotations in. There are many specialties, but I’ll talk to the head of each department that you mark about having you explore a lot of different projects, keep your mind busy. If there are any particular projects or areas that catch your eye, you’ll have to let me know, so we can factor that in. And I’ll need to talk to everyone about roles and responsibilities and respect …” He frowned a little at that one and glanced up at Khan. “And I’ll need you to talk to me if you aren’t being treated well. That’s an order.” He looked at the augment firmly. “I will not tolerate any abuse of any member of my crew, yourself included.”
Khan was slightly startled by Kirk's excitement. This was already far different from how Khan had been treated by Admiral Marcus. It was a comparison that would continue to resonate with the augment, since it had been his first encounter with humanity after three hundred years. But Kirk was proving himself very different. Khan's consent to work had been sought by Kirk; whereas consent had been disregarded by Marcus. And not only that, but Kirk recognized that Khan might encounter resistance from the crew of the Enterprise, and instead of ignoring any problems he might face as an outsider, the former enemy, Kirk was prepared to address them upfront. It was very promising.
"Yes, Captain."
“Good,” Jim said with a nod to Khan. “Now, would you like to do anything in particular today, while we start getting things into place? Maybe explore the ship a little? Choose a new wardrobe for yourself? Pick out a few objects from the Cargo Bay to personalize your quarters a little bit?” He was trying to be gently encouraging, but wouldn’t be surprised if Khan took the day to just wallow in some privacy. He knew he might choose to do the same in a similar position. After all, he had before.
Too many questions. Too many choices. "No ... thank you, Captain," Khan said, attempting to be polite, even though the ideas had almost immediately put him on edge. "What you are suggesting, though considerate of you, Sir, is more than I am prepared to face, today." With a firm clearing of throat, Khan then added, "It would make me uncomfortable to explore unattended, while my position on the Enterprise is still widely unknown."
“I understand,” Jim said with a nod. “But know, Khan, you wouldn’t be alone. I would gladly accompany you.” He picked up his empty bowl and mug to recycle and said, “Hey, look at that, you’re a good influence on me. I ate all my breakfast. Bones, uh, Dr. McCoy, would be so proud.” He smiled at the other man and said, “Unfortunately, I have to get to the Bridge soon. Feel free to comm me if you need anything. I’ll let everyone know about your status aboard this ship.” He headed for the door and then paused to look back. “Might I have dinner with you?”
Dinner? Khan looked up from the cold mug in his hands. The rest of him might be reluctant, but there was part of his brain that knew what was good for him. Scheduling an event, even as simple as dinner, and not too far ahead in the future, gave Khan something to look forward to. An obligation, a promise, he would meet. His heart was still heavy with recent events, but forcing himself to make this commitment meant stepping away from his grief for an hour or two. "Yes, Captain." He stood formally, since Kirk was about to depart. "Thank you."
“I look forward to it,” Jim said and meant it. He gave an acknowledging nod to the augment and added, “Take care of yourself until then. I’ll see you at nineteen hundred hours ... and I’ll bring the food.” He strolled out of the quarters and headed for the Bridge, planning what exactly he was going to tell his Senior Staff and crew about the new position of their former prisoner and new responsibility.
* * *
It was a long and difficult day for Khan. But a few things made it slightly bearable. Firstly, the complete privacy of his new room. He could collapse to the floor in tears, sob and hide his face in blankets until he gave himself a headache, then remain on the floor for another few hours to recover, and all the while not worry about being interrupted or watched. This time of mourning was his own. Also, the lights could be dimmed at his command. A simple enough thing that the former prisoner had no control over before now.
For a while, Khan had stood by the closed door and listened to people talk in the hallways as they walked by. He wasn't after the details of the conversations, instead he was listening to the tones friends used with one another, or disagreements between professional adversaries. It had been one of the comforts Khan had been looking forward to, hearing his people talk, to be surrounded by their voices once more. But after a time, Khan gave up on this. There was no satisfaction in it, no mistake that the people outside his door were all strangers to him, not family.
Jim spent the majority of his day in debate. Everyone on the Senior Staff had an opinion about his allowing Khan to travel as a passenger and crewmember, instead of a prisoner, and most of them were opposed. (Scotty was the surprising yeah vote, but he may have had ulterior motives. He had seen Khan's designs for the Vengeance, after all.) Still, with every heated discussion, Jim became more certain of his decision. His arguments got tighter every time, though he’d started with the hardest two. Both Spock and Bones had taken up over an hour of his shift, and though he was certain they weren’t convinced of his being right, they understood his determination and that there was no talking him out of it. And invariably, all of them showed their loyalty by volunteering to work with Khan. Jim’s chest swelled with pride by the end of shift with how much his officers cared about their ship...and amazingly, him.
By the time dinner time began to approach, Jim was more than ready to eat (having missed lunch time during his discussion with Sulu) and headed to the mess to select a freshly made meal for himself and Khan. He considered carefully the selection and decided to focus on comfort foods, choosing macaroni and cheese, noodle soup, fried green tomatoes, vegetarian curry, biscuits, spring rolls and both buttermilk pie and fruit tart. He topped this off with large glasses of milk and a mug each of chai (for Khan) and coffee (for himself). He carried these items on a giant tray, all the way to Khan’s door, where he rang to request entrance.
Answering the door himself rather than having it open automatically, Khan met Kirk at the entrance to his room. Glancing down at the tray of food he carried, Khan was somewhat surprised by how much he had brought along. "Captain." Khan raised the levels of a few lights in the room, offering Kirk a clear way from the darkness Khan had been enjoying. "Do you require assistance?"
“Just a clear path to the table if you please,” Jim said. “I thought we could eat off the serving plates themselves, share between us. I remembered you don’t eat meat, so everything here is vegetarian. Not vegan though, but you use dairy, so I thought that was okay. For myself, I’m glad I’m not allergic to dairy on top of everything else. Life without macaroni and cheese would just be sad.” He set the tray on the table carefully, proud not to have lost even a dribble of milk.
Picking up several of the blankets he had dragged and draped across the floor, Khan dropped them in a heap at the end of his bed. "Thank you for respecting my dietary observations, Captain." Then taking the same position he had that morning, Khan sat, looking over the items Kirk had brought with him. "This is quite a lot of food," he admitted, feeling uncertain about eating so much.
“Yeah, I know,” Jim said. “I decided to go for a variety, so you could eat whatever you preferred. And these are what I consider, uh, comfort foods. Things I tend to eat when I’m feeling down, you know?” He took a seat, picked up his fork and smiled at Khan. “Dig in!” he examined again all of his own choices and took a first bite of macaroni and cheese. “Mmm. Yeah, this is amazing. I don’t know what cheeses are used, but they’re delicious!” He took another heaping bite of the melty goodness. “I hope some of these appeal to you, Khan.”
Though the curry and even cheese smelled comforting, of the choices, the noodle soup seemed the most manageable for the time being. Pulling the bowl a little closer to himself, Khan spooned in a few mouthfuls of the broth. He ate quietly, but the point was, he did eat. Jim's attitude made it difficult to be sour, even if he was still quite reserved. "You have been very accommodating, Captain." Khan said after a while. "I had no reason to expect such kindness." He added by way of thanks, knowing his position could have turned grim in other hands.
Jim said, “Well, it’s time to change all of that,” with firm sincerity. He picked up a spring roll and happily munched on it, dipping it in his bowl of sauce before each bite. “I want you to know that all of my senior officers volunteered to work with you, should you choose any of their departments or specializations for a rotation or for a permanent position. Honestly, Scotty was almost salivating at the idea.” He took a big drink of his milk and licked off the white mustache unashamedly.
At the mention of Mr. Scott, the memory of the engineer on the Vengeance came back to him. He had proved himself quite brave, though showed hesitance when it came to violence. Which Khan would later be thankful for, once he learned Mr. Scott's role in refusing to accept the torpedoes with Khan's people inside, aboard the Enterprise. "Thank you, Captain, for speaking on my behalf." Defending, supporting, even protecting Khan in this way was certainly not an easy position to take. With his hands on the edge of the table, on either side of the bowl of soup, Khan just looked down, his expression shifting between a frown one moment, then something calmer after a sigh. "It has been a long time since I have had an ally. I may not always remember to thank you for it, but my gratitude is sincere."
“I believe you,” Jim said quietly, “and you don’t have to thank me for it, Khan. If we can, I’d like to forget the past between us and forge a new relationship without any of that baggage.” He carefully nudged some of the curry toward Khan and said firmly, “You need to eat more. Please have some of the curry, unless it’s truly inedible to you.” He demonstrated his own appreciation for the dish by picking out a few of the vegetables and eating them. “Besides, you can’t have your dessert if you don’t eat your dinner, and trust me, you don’t want to miss out on the buttermilk pie. Apparently, Bones gave chef the recipe. It’s incredible...for a pie without fruit.”
"It is a marvel, the way you speak. Conversation comes easily to you, even in the form of nonsense. I am finding it quite disarming." Khan admitted, intended it to be a compliment. He looked to the curried vegetables, but could barely manage to keep his focus on the plate for very long. It upset him somehow. All of it did. Yet there was no logical reason for it. "Will you keep talking?" he asked, hot tears suddenly gathering in his eyes. "Please, Captain. About anything at all."
Jim swallowed a lump in his own throat and focused on Khan’s first sentence. “You’re not the only one to tell me that I babble sometimes. Especially when I get nervous, though I’ve gotten better with practice. Besides, I learned that throwing up a confusing smokescreen of words sometimes deflects people from probing too deeply into things you don’t want them to. And making smalltalk can be very useful in diplomatic situations, too, especially to defuse tension or when you need to pet someone’s ego.”
Trying to maintain the pretense and let Khan take whatever time he needed, Jim grabbed one of the biscuits, not wanting them to go to waste. He lathered it with a bit too much butter and then, after a moment’s consideration, popped a fried green tomato between the two halves. “Always need to be open to trying something new, right?” he asked, showing the creation to Khan. “Since hamburger’s not on the menu, let’s see how this does.” He took a huge bite and chewed contemplatively, before grinning. “This is actually really good. Please, try something more.” He widened his blue eyes to their most ridiculous extent and used them on Khan plaintively.
Listening to his words and focusing on his easy tone, Khan managed to show restraint over the sudden swell of emotion that had struck him. It had been unexpected and embarrassing, but thankfully Kirk drew no further attention to what Khan was going through. Forcing a deep breath through his nose, Khan then reached forward for the same supplies, copying Kirk as he made a tomato burger for himself as well. After a bite and chewing, Khan gave a quiet sniff of one nostril. The taste and texture was actually quite satisfying.
Jim beamed at him and said, “Right! Surprisingly good. Bones is so going to laugh at me when I confess that I like these fried green tomatoes. They were the closest I could get to a few of the items I would eat for comfort foods. But I’m an infidel who still eats meat, including cows and pork. I know, it’s terrible, but I grew up in Iowa! We were farmers! Well, it was a farm...despite the fact that my mother is a devotee of the stars, the overall Kirk family still maintains a family farm. Though, it’s kind of neglected now by the Kirks. Fortunately, there’s a good caretaker there. It’s funny, when I was growing up, I couldn’t wait to leave and didn’t care less what happened to the place. But now...I don’t know, it’s like it’s nice to know that something that’s been in the family so long remains. The Kirks purchased that land since the 1920s, before the Great Depression.”
The polite, socially acceptable thing would have been for Khan to ask questions, to make comments and help further the conversation. But right now, getting the broken-hearted man to eat would have to be enough of an accomplishment, rather than getting him to talk, too. He was a good listener however, taking in the facts regarding Kirk's family with a slight nod to express his understanding. The one-sided conversation was a pleasant distraction, giving Khan a chance to eat the tomato sandwich from start to finish with further upset.
Jim was glad to see the augment eat and continued to blather innocuous things about his hometown and the farm and Iowa to keep up the words Khan seemed to need. He was pleased at the progress and cut up the large piece of buttermilk pie into two large portions, one for each of them. “You haven’t had your milk yet,” he said, “so you can drink it with this pie. They really are a good match. I was dubious the first time I tried it, but Bones was right, it’s delicious.” He cut off a large chunk and popped it in his mouth. “Yummy.”
Not fond of milk, as it had not been a staple he grew up with, Khan took a sip to be polite and because Jim directed him to. However, as he accepted the serving of dessert, Khan placed his fork on the edge of the plate, not quite ready to eat. Sitting untouched between the two of them was the cup of coffee and the cup of chai that Kirk had also brought along to dinner. Reaching forward, Khan let his fingers touch the mug of chai as he made eye contact with Kirk, in a way asking permission to take the drink. When his move went unchallenged, Khan pulled the drink closer to him on the table and poured a bit of the milk in the mug to top it off, making the chai a little creamier. It was only then that Khan then picked up his fork and began to eat the buttermilk pie, one small serving after another.
Jim took his coffee and poured some milk and then some sugar into it, digging more into his own pie. “I can’t indulge in this kind of meal too often,” he confessed. “Bones would kill me. But sometimes, you just need to eat what makes you feel good. Also, I doubt your metabolism will have any difficulty with it.” He sipped his coffee with deep satisfaction. “This will keep me up for hours. Help me get through all my paperwork. They don’t tell you how much of being a captain has to do with filling in forms. And I can’t use my poor Yeoman as any more of a secretary than she already is.”
“So, I was hoping to make at least one meal a day with you a kind of tradition and wanted to ask if you’d prefer that to be breakfast or dinner,” Jim said. “I figure they both have advantages, so the final choice is in your hands. Of course, we can always alternate weeks or something, too, if we want to try both.”
A flare of worry and suspicion pressed into Khan's thought again. Why was Kirk being so kind to him? What did he want? Why would he dedicate so much time to a single individual, to him, everyday? What benefit was it to him? Khan would have to be patient and try to be prepared for the day when Kirk showed his hand. Khan was untrusting. Even though the other part of him knew that Kirk was nothing like Marcus. It was confusing. After all, his trust had already been recently betrayed.
"If you truly have time to take dinner with me, Captain. I will not refuse the company."
“Dinner it is,” Jim said with a firm nod of his head. “For the time being, I’ll come to your rooms...or maybe you’d like to see mine? It’s just a little ways down the hall. In fact, a few doors. I should show you, when we’re done, so you know where to come if you need someone to talk to or just be with for awhile.” He smiled at the other man hopefully and waited for a reply, even though his guest was not very verbal. Indeed, he worried quite a bit about Khan’s silence, knowing it to a be a symptom of his sorrow.
"Yes, I suppose in the event of an emergency I should know the location of your room." Khan said somewhat formally. "But I have no wish to intrude or consume your valuable time." He could not foresee himself going to Kirk's door, asking for help, seeking out companionship, even at his lowest, when he perhaps needed it most. On the one hand, Khan was grateful and had even verbalized his thanks for what Kirk was doing for him, but on the other he was mistrustful and stubborn. The augment was not accustomed to sharing his pain with others, even though he was a genuine mess, confused and unstable.
“Good, once we’re done here, I’ll show you,” Jim said, glad of the positive response. “But there’s no rush. All I have to look forward to tonight is paperwork. I’d be much gladder of some company for a little while longer, if you’re willing. Of course, if you want some rest or to be alone, I’ll head back as soon as we’re done.”
No, the lonely and displaced augment did not want to be alone. Nor did he want to be seen struggling through his moods of grief. After almost every breath, Khan felt on the verge of tears. It was sinking in, he would never see his people again. And not because they were dead at the hands of Marcus or Starfleet, but because they wanted nothing to do with Khan in their lives. He would never see them thrive in peace, share in their happiness and freedom, watch them build a new life for themselves and raise children. Retreating a little inside himself again, Khan nodded. "Yes, Captain." Drinking a bit more of his chai, Khan managed a deep breath and sigh. "It may be mutually beneficial to distract one another for a little while longer."
“Exactly the way I see it,” Jim said with a bright grin. “Might I entice you for a stroll through the Enterprise? Or maybe we could go to the botanical garden and enjoy the roses? Or go look at the stars, like I described before?” He sipped at the coffee and considered a moment. “Or if you prefer, we could sit and talk awhile longer. I might tell you more about my own path to Starfleet, if that interests you. Or I could just tell you about the present, anything you want to know.”
"I cannot offer you much by way of conversation at this time, Captain." Khan said honestly. And really, explaining that he wasn't much for talking was about as much Kirk would get out of him anyway. "Perhaps you could tell me, where we are going. What are your currently scheduled missions." He asked, feeling that was a logical line of questioning. He should know about where they were going, what planets they intended to explore.
"Yeah, sure," Jim said energetically, always eager to talk about their voyage. "You know we're on a five-year mission to explore beyond where any Starfleet ship has gone before. And for the moment, we're headed out into the black, beyond where we've ever been before. It will take us some week or so to reach the extent of previously explored territory. After that...well, we don't know, honestly. That's the excitement of it! We could find anything. When we reach the boundary, we'll have to sweep the area and decide which way to go. Five years!" He resisted bouncing in his seat, knowing that was not kind behavior around Khan right now.
"Five years," Khan repeated back. That was quite an investment. The Enterprise would be on their own. They would have to make friends along the way, because no one would be coming to their aid if something went wrong. "Deep space will have much to offer your science teams over a period of five years." It was brave of them, the crew of the Enterprise, to be so dedicated to their work, so willing for adventure, so confident in Starfleet and their Captain to make such commitment with their lives. "And you have no hint of what you might encounter?"
"A little, from deep space probes, but nothing more," Jim said, eyes wide with the promise of their future explorations. "What manner of species we might meet or wonders we might explore, we know nothing more than the barest hints. Would you like to see what little we know? I can give you that data." He felt a spark of hope that he might entice interest in Khan, at least of the scientific kind.
"Yes, I admit I am curious." His time in captivity had not allowed Khan to experience many of humanity's achievements. Sure, he had been confronted with a wealth of new technology to stimulate his brain, but it had nothing to do with things humans dreamed about or were inspired by. But a lone radio signal reaching out through abandoned space, or a probe with complex DNA traces hoping to inspire first contact, or a moon that sang a new tune whenever it gathered a new piece of space debris into its orbit, those were the things that motivated humans to experience something new, to explore, to learn. And if humans were still ready to learn, rather then be complacent with their technology or their way of life, then so could Khan be.
“Cool! I‘d love to get your opinion on it all, if you’re willing to share,” Jim said. “Based on the preliminary data, there appears to be a system mostly full of small planets that are rich in mineral deposits of all sorts, some of which may be useful for mining, as there appears to be no life. On the other hand, there’s a much smaller solar system with two tiny planets that each may have life at different stages. Sensor readings indicate neither to be technologically advanced, but possibly one could be in a stage similar to our Iron Age. Either of those would be appropriate ways to begin our deep space mission.” And whichever one we choose, we may never get back to the other...who knows?”
"I imagine you will have many such choices to make during your five year mission." Khan said, though he refrained from giving his initial observation on the choice, since he did not have all the information. His interest faded somewhat as his thoughts returned to his people, and the choices they were making, without him. The choice they had made to eliminate him. But Kirk and the Enterprise had saved him, and now he was to live in exile. A firmly grim expression remained on Khan's face. There was no distracting him from the betrayal and heartbreak.
“Tomorrow morning, then, I’ll send the data,” Jim said and studied Khan’s face, noting how drawn it was. “But for now, I’ll recycle the rest of our dinner- well, I’ll leave some of the nibbles- and let you get some rest. I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow for sure. And feel free to call on me, if you need anything.” He headed for the replicator with the rest of the food and then the door. “Sleep well, Khan.”
"Yes, Sir." This time Khan could not bring himself to stand, to see Kirk off. Instead he remained in his chair until he was alone again, body slumped forward, Khan trembled and shook as he gave in to another cycle of crying to himself. With hot tears burning down the side of his face, Khan was desperate for relief from the pain he was feeling. After a few hours, his body was exhausted from the stress, and he managed to sleep the remainder of the night.