John Grimm never spared much thought for dying.
Not when he was on the run from UAC and the new RRTS team, not when he was playing ‘dodge the bullet’ with those stupid kids the Marines thought it would be a good idea to recruit and then turn loose to try to track him down.
What had they called themselves? Oh right, ‘The Hounds’, like their job was some romantic quest. He had been unwillingly amused even as he had killed them.
And then pretending to be afraid of flying - well actually, that part hadn’t really been pretend.
He hated it - there were so many things that could go wrong with the damn contraptions they ferried you around in, as he had learned the hard way the first few times he had ‘died’ as a result of a crash.
More trouble then they were worth. And don’t even fucking talk to him about transporters. He hated them when he was human - being immortal and immune to most of the things that could go wrong doesn’t mean he has to be ok with having his molecules rearranged.
He hadn’t planned to be in a situation where it would be a problem - there were plenty of planet-side postings he could take.
He hadn’t planned for the kid.
Jim was an enigma - so fragile, yet unaware of that fragility, brilliant enough to outshine the fucking stars, but going out of his way to make sure everyone underestimated him.
He’d managed to become a fixture in Reaper’s life without him really noticing…and also carved out a place in his heart. Leonard McCoy, called Bones, once Reaper, born John Grimm, had long held that love was something that he didn’t need, something that would only bring him trouble and pain.
But Jim had blown all his assumptions out of the water. Willing to give, but unwilling to take. John had fallen for him almost in self-defense, and maybe in an attempt to make sure Jim knew he wasn’t alone.
So when he had heard Jim - no, Acting-Captain Kirk, make the announcement that the Romulan ship had imploded into a singularity that resembled a black hole, he thinks for the first time in a long time, about death.
Jim’s good, hell, the Universe is fucking in love with James T. Kirk, but John doesn’t think even he can get them out of this.
It’ll be a damn shame too - these kids are the best and the brightest in the entire damn galaxy, and their loss will be felt keenly when tallied into the losses of the other ships.
He doesn’t really mind dying himself, he’s already lived far longer then any man has a right to expect to. But he thinks maybe it’s a good thing Jim will be dying with him, because he doesn’t know what he’d do with him anymore.
And then the kid pulled a miracle out of his ass, and they were out, and still standing. Well, limping at least. But those few minutes of fear put things in a new perspective - he’s got his work cut out for him. And the kid’ll make a damn fine captain.