"Spock wait!" Spock could hear the human call after him. He did not stop. He did not slow his steps. He did not look back.
He was chasing after him, but for once Spock could truly say that he did not give a fuck. He didn't want to hear the explanation. The weak attempts of justifying what he had just witnessed. There were no words that could turn back time, no words to undo things.
"T'hy'la, please!" the man hollered. Spock stopped in his tracks. How dare he. How dare he use that name after what he had done? How dare he insult him in such a way? He hadn't even washed the scent of that whore off himself. It had still clung to his body when Spock had returned to their rooms.
Jim finally caught up at him, and when he did, Spock whirled around, his fist connecting with Jim's jaw. The human flew to the ground, a small cry of pain slipping from his lips. Spock stared down at the human that he had given his heart to, that he had trusted. That he had loved.
"Okay, I deserved that." Jim said, struggling to stand once more. "Please, you've got to hear me out. Please, babe, please."
"Hear out what, Jim? How you were not able to keep your dick in your pants?" Spock snarled. Never had he been this angry. Never. Not once in his life had such rage filled his entire being. Such unbelievable pain.
"Spock please. I.. I don't know what got into me I just.. I got nervous about our bonding tomorrow, and I got drunk and she was there and-"
"And then you decided it would be a rational decision to bed her." Spock snapped, turning on his heel to walk away once more.
"T'hy'la please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"Don't call me that." Spock spat. "You have no right.. you don't deserve to call me that. It goes without saying that the ceremony will not take place."
"No Spock.. please.. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Please let me.. just.. please give me another chance! Please!" Jim begged, moving closer to the Vulcan that had his back turned to him.
"There are no second chances. What you have done.. is unforgivable." Spock turned to look at the human one more time. "Never speak to me again. Never look at me again. Don't ever mutter my name again. You, Jim Kirk, are my past now, and I do not look back at my past."
The hurt on the human's face was so satisfying, made him feel so utterly good that he couldn't stop himself. There was more to say, more the human had to hear, and Spock would make sure that these words would be heard.
"It was a mistake to trust you. A mistake to ever believe your whispered love confessions. To ask for your hand in marriage. You, Jim Kirk, were a mistake. And I should have known better. You are not worth my pain, or time. You aren't worth my love. I turn my back on you for just a second, and I find you with someone else. You never loved me. I was a game to you, as every other you had before. And once you had me conquered you moved on to the next. Not even having the decency of informing me that you had grown tired of me, that you were ready for a new toy. You don't deserve to be my T'hy'la. And it sickens me that I trusted you. That I loved you. That I gave you so much of myself. You. Are utterly useless. And you will forever be alone. And die a lonely death. Do not come after me again, or it will be the last thing you do."
Spock moved away from the human, the human that he was supposed to be bonded to tomorrow. The human that reeked of another. He didn't turn back. He didn't care for the screams. He didn't care for the sobbing. He had given Jim exactly what he deserved. What he deserved for breaking his heart.
Jim starred after the Vulcan. Over. It was all over. He had made a stupid mistake. And now it was over.
He couldn't hold back the tears, letting them run down his chest. He was petrified. He couldn't move. He wanted to, but his legs didn't move.
Over. It was over. He would never be with the love of his life again. He would never kiss that man again. Never hold his hand again. Never look into those beautiful eyes again.
He was gone. And he wasn't coming back.
Jim stood there for what seemed like hours. Finally, his body let him move. He turned, taking one step after the other. A haze laid heavily on his mind. He walked back to his room. Thankfully, the woman had already left, leaving nothing behind but the scent of cheap perfume.
Shame. He was so ashamed. Ashamed of himself, of what he had done. How had he ever been so stupid? Why hadn't he gone to Spock? Talked about his doubts? Why had he had to go out and drink? How had that ever helped.
He felt numb. As if something had died inside him, tearing everything he was with it, leaving behind an empty shell.
What had he done?
He walked into the bathroom, mechanically checking out the wound on his face. Spock had hit hard. It would be bruised to hell in only a couple of hours. It didn't hurt. He couldn't feel anything.
The human starred at himself in the mirror for the longest time. Spock was right. He was worthless. He had never deserved the Vulcan's love. He didn't deserve anything. If he couldn't even be faithful to the man he loved more then his own life.. what could he do right? What could he offer anyone? What kind of human being was he?
He wasn't a human at all. He was a monster. A monster that didn't deserve to live.
He looked around the room. He was going to end it. Once he was dead everything would be better. Spock would never have to suffer again. He would be free of him, free of his presence.
He would know that Jim had gotten the punishment he deserved.
How would he do it? Jim wondered. He didn't deserve a quick death. He didn't deserve a painless death. Maybe he should hang himself. But what would he hang himself with? He had nothing.
The knife. The knife Spock had given him as an engagement present. Handmade on Vulcan. Worth a fortune. A beautiful antique that Jim had loved the second he saw it. He would end his life with it, smear it with his blood. And Spock would get it back, satisfied that it had been put to good use. That it would end the life of a being unworthy to walk any planet in this universe.
Walking into his bedroom, he carefully picked up the knife from the stand he had placed it on. He thought about laying down in their bed, the bed they had shared for so long, and end his life there, wrapped up in Spock's scent. But he didn't deserve any comfort.
And if he got the sheets dirty, Spock would have to throw them away. He didn't want to give Spock more trouble then he already had. He didn't want to force him into cleaning up after him
The bathtub would do. He could fill it with water, and the blood would mix with it. And when they found his body, they could simply drain the water and nothing would be left. He needed to write a will first.
Bones would probably take it on himself to have him buried. He didn't want to be buried. He didn't deserve to have a tombstone, didn't deserve a ceremony to say goodbye. He didn't want any of that. He didn't deserve it.
He quickly wrote down that he wanted to be cremated. His body should be burned into ashes, and then thrown away like trash. He would get the burial that he deserved. None at all.
Jim looked over the note. Somehow it was important to him that his instructions for Bones would be clear. When he was satisfied with his last words, he picked up the knife and walked back into the bathroom.
As he let the water into the tub, he wondered if he should get undressed. If he didn't, they'd have to cut the clothes off him. He didn't want to cause anyone any more work then he already was going to. He would take them off.
Everything around him seemed blurred. He couldn't make out any shapes. All he could see was the soft waves of the water filling the tub. When it was full, he stripped, turning off the water and getting in. He made sure he didn't get any water on the floor. He was going to cause enough of a mess as it was.
The knife laid heavy in his hand, somewhat comforting. The blade shone in the dimmed light. He was glad he had remembered to dim the light. That way it wouldn't be that bad for whoever found him. The blade cut into his skin, a biting pain filling him as he slid it over is lower arm from the bend of his elbow to his wrist. He wanted to cut his other arm as well, just to make sure, but suddenly wasn't able to anymore.
The water was nice and warm. The blood slowly mingled with it, turning it a light red. Jim was satisfied with himself. He could feel the life dripping from himself. His mind was going blank. All he could think of was the face of the man he loved so much. The way he had looked at him when he had confessed his love to the Vulcan. The look he had given him when he had agreed to bonding with him. Those soft eyes.
A small smile crept on Jim's face. He was drowning, spiraling downward, relieve flushing over him It would soon be over. Soon, he would have given Spock the freedom he deserved. He would make amends for his actions by ending it all together. By making sure he would never be able to hurt anyone ever again.
He started to slip from conciseness, that small smile still gracing his lips.
He was going to make Spock happy. By dying.
Spock had been pacing in his room when he felt something deep in his mind break. Hours had passed since he had talked to Jim. It had hurt, hurt so much he couldn't contain his rage, breaking what he got his hands on. And suddenly, something was gone.
Spock stopped his pacing, blinking. A part of him was missing. A very distinctive part. Officially bonded or not, there had already been a weak bond between him and the human. And that bond was gone.
"No..." Spock breathed. He ran. Ran as quickly as he could, as quickly as his legs would carry him. He burst into the room's he had shared with Jim, his T'hy'la, and the scent of blood immediately filled his sensitive nose. Terror took hold of him as he stumbled toward the bathroom, the room the smell seemed to originate from.
And there he laid. His beautiful human. Dead. Cold. Eyes forever closed. Forever unmoving. Spock fell to his knee's.
His entire body was shaking. This couldn't be true. This couldn't be the end. His angry words couldn't have caused this.
And yet, there he knelt on the floor, in front of his T'hy'las dead body. Never again would those blue eyes look at him. Never again would he hear that soft voice.
A strangled sob escaped his lips. He crawled closer to the tub, pulling the body out of the tube, cradling the cold corpse in his arms, crying, begging the man to open his eyes, to come back to him. But the human was already gone. Never to return. Nothing could be done.
Tears obstructed his sight, but once he looked into the tube once more, he could see the knife he had given to the human. The knife he had taken his life with. Shaking, the Vulcan reached into the water to grab the knife, the human slipping from his grip.
He cried, quickly gathering the human into his arms once more, apologizing for dropping him, for hurting him, begging for his forgiveness. He gripped the human tighter, fishing the knife from the water. He slowly picked up the body into his arms, the knife held in one hand, the body cradled against his chest.
He laid his human onto their bed, laying him on his back, running fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to his cold, blue lips.
"Don't worry T'hy'la. I won't leave you alone." he smiled, making his way to the wardrobe. No one should see his T'hy'la naked. He picked Jim's favorite black shirt, and his favorite pair of jeans, along with a pair of briefs. He dressed him, carefully, not wanting to hurt him any more then he already had. Oblivious to the fact that nothing he would do could hurt Jim anymore.
He leaned down for another kiss, running fingers through the dead human's hair once more, messing it up in just the way Jim always had. Pulling back, he smiled. Jim looked peaceful. As if he was sleeping.
Spock took off his shoes, placing them neatly at the door. Then he stripped, dressing himself in a white shirt and black pants, Jim's favorite. He was ready.
Laying down on his side, facing his T'hy'la, he took the humans cold hand into his own.
"Don't worry, T'hy'la. I am coming for you soon." he whispered, closing his eyes, leaning forward to steal another kiss.
He cut into his arm, just as Jim had. Green blood seeped out of his arm, onto the sheets. But that wasn't enough. If they found him early enough, they would save him. A Vulcan was able to take so much more damage. Still holding the humans hand, he laid his head against his chest.
"I love you, T'hy'la." He whispered, bringing the knife against the thick pulse of his neck, using all the strength he had to slash himself open.
The knife fell from his hand, smeared with red and green blood as his hand came down to rest on Jim's chest.
It was over in a matter of seconds.
And they were once more together.
In a place that no one else could penetrate.
Where no one could follow.
Only them.
Forever.
The End
