You ever get the feeling that somebody walked over your grave? Jim had a moment like that, his drink halfway lifted to his mouth. Not his first of the evening, not by a long shot, but his hand was steady and his head still clear. Enough to notice that he recognized the man that came through the door.

Khan.

Jim's fingers tightened on his glass. Why the hell was someone like Khan still here when so many other people had disappeared? Why did he get to stay (why did Jim get to come back?) when so many other people deserved it more?

You know what, he got it. He got being protective of your crew. Wanting to do anything to protect them. Willing to die for them, the way Khan was. But that didn't give him the right to rip other families apart. Pike's still dead. Jim still hunched over his cooling body and cried.

He tossed off the rest of the drink. (Bourbon, one of Pike's favourites) and then he made his way over to Khan absolutely without preamble. "You and me. Outside," he snarled.