To anyone who stumbles upon this fic, welcome! It's been a while since I've written any fan fiction, a couple years in fact but I've recently just fallen in love with this pairing and decided to write a fanfic of my own to share with you!
Let me know what you guys think with some reviews and don't be shy if you have any pointers to give!
A five year mission. Five years in space to explore the farthest they could go and then some. It was a dream come true, right? It was what he'd wanted, what had been on his mind every minute of every day. He talked about nothing else for the longest time, so much so that his crew began to believe in his hope just as vigorously.
Then he'd gotten his ship taken away from him and the dream was pushed back into the furthermost reaches of his mind. Not even dying could bring the fantasy back to him because all he could think about at the time was that he desperately wanted to make those deep brown eyes staring back at him from the other side of the glass, to stop filling up with tears.
He raised his hand to the door just to try and feel any closeness he could as he felt his life begin to slowly fade away. He looked back up at his friend, his brother, the only person who could complete the other half of him. A ghost of a smile played on the corners of his mouth. Just as he watched a tear fall from his First Officer's lash and roll down his cheek, the world faded to black and he was gone.
There seemed to be no hope left in this black void. Jim Kirk wasn't sure how long he stood in the darkness waiting for the inevitable "white light". His mind continued to flash images of Spock's face, his eyes brimmed with tears. In all the time he'd known Spock he'd never seen the Vulcan express such emotion, even when his mother was taken from him or when Jim bated him on with said information.
It hurt knowing that he caused the Vulcan such sadness, and felt like breaking down in the black shroud. But he knew there was no point. Though he was overcome with grief over his own end, and wanted with every fiber of his being to see not only Spock again but his entire crew, his family, he knew there was no reason to be sad because he couldn't do much about anything anymore.
He sat down, briefly wondering how everyone else was going to react to his death, and felt immense warmth wash over him. He was ready to move on. As he shut his eyes, he took a deep breath and welcomed what he could only assume was the end.
Jim shook himself out of his trance, goose bumps rising on his arms and the back of his neck. He'd spent too long standing in front of the radioactive engine chamber again, his mind wandering back to the horrible moment that occurred three years ago. Three years ago. Had it really been that long? The first year was a blur of recovery, for himself and his ship, but the two years he'd spent on the newly patched Enterprise seemed like it all happened yesterday.
Sighing, Jim recalled just how exhausted he must have been to end up back at the glass door for the umpteenth time. He'd simply gone for a late night walk to clear his overworking, insomniac mind, but he ended up here. He always ended up here. He probably could've spent hours, and most likely had, just standing at this door looking in to where he once laid, ragged with heavy breath and radiation coursing through his veins.
It was a scary thought, to be standing on the other side looking in, but he felt a sense of reassurance standing on this side of the glass. His feet seemed grounded and his mind was at peace to know that he stood where his First Officer stood. Even though the minor tranquility reminded him of the pain that Spock endured on this side of the glass, Jim felt as one person. He reminded himself, yet again, that he wasn't dead and that this awful memory was just that, a memory. Jim shook his head and dispelled the flashback for the night and turned on his heel to make his way back across the ship.
Scotty, who at first fretted over his Captain spending long periods of time by the radiation chamber, was now accustomed to Jim's late night roaming and nodded once to him as he left, swiveling around in his chair and stifling a yawn that had crept up to remind him how late it truly was.
Jim imagined that if he were back on Earth, back home in Iowa, that if he were stay up just as late, that by now the sun would rising over the horizon. He'd spent many sleepless nights in his youth to know when he passed well into the next day. He made a mental note to watch a sunrise again once they docked back on Earth. It'd be a couple years but he missed it already.
Smiling to himself as he reached his quarters, Jim tapped in the passcode to unlock the door, ready to pile under his covers for a few hours of shut eye. Though he was barely sleeping, but he felt that only a few hours was all he truly needed to be the fresh faced Captain his crew came to know and love.
A small wall mirror begged to differ as he stopped short, surprised by his own appearance. Sure he looked the part of Captain, with his yellow shirt, black undershirt, and regulation black slacks, but his hair was tousled in permanent bed head and his face lay unshaven, stubble hugging his boyish features. He felt as old as he looked. The only good thing he still admired about himself were his blue eyes. They popped with vibrant colour, contrasting with the face they shined from, but at the same time burned with the insomnia he suffered from.
He could see all the thoughts that burned in his mind, through those blue portals and sighed, closing them. Many would say that it was normal for a Captain to be as tired or worn, what with all the duties and responsibilities laid out for him, but it wasn't just the paperwork, or the long hours sitting in the Captain's chair as he and his crew stared out at the never ending void that was space. No, it was other things, other things for him to be concerned with.
He sighed again and sauntered away from the mirror, from his thoughts. His bed called his name and his brain called for rest. He kicked off his shoes, undressed to his boxers, and clambered onto the bed, rolling around until he was something of a caterpillar in his covers. He shut his eyes and let sleep take him.
An alarm clock buzzed annoyingly off in the distance. Jim rolled over, the covers no longer enveloping him a warm cocoon, and groaned, as he peeked an eye open. He spotted the screen flashing the current time. It was ten minutes after the alarm had gone off, which meant that he was late to jumping in the shower. He silently wished the damn thing would shut itself off so that he wouldn't have to get up to do it manually, but he'd set it up across the room for that very reason. So he groaned one more time and kicked off the rest of the covers, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed.
He stayed that way for a moment, still half laying on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Something inside told him to forget about his duties as Captain and to stay in bed, because in bed there were no problems. No paperwork, no crew, no worries about the safety of others. All the bed cared about was Jim's inability to find comfort long enough for a full nights' rest, though it tried on many occasions to assuage him of the deep depression he'd sunk so far into.
But no, that was not to be. He was Captain of the Enterprise. He was in deep space with people who cared about him on a ship he had grown to call home. It was all he ever wanted right? Then why did this nagging feeling in the back of his mind repeatedly tell him that he wasn't complete. That he wasn't a whole person just yet. Something was missing and when he thought long and hard about it, brown eyes flashed through his mind.
Sitting up straight, Jim shook his head, trying to make the visions of his death disappear. Sure, they were horrible and caused him to walk the ship every night until he could no longer keep his eyes open or string a single coherent thought together, but there was that constant good moment that kept rearing its' head. It reminded him that he indeed mattered more to someone else than he did to himself.
Suddenly his communicator that lay on the nightstand next to his bed went off, the chirping adding to the loud noise that the alarm clock was still playing. Jim reached over and grabbed it, flipping it open. "Mn...hello?" He grumbled, his voice not fully restored from sleep just yet.
"Captain. Your presence is required in sick bay. Dr. McCoy has informed me that we are due for our physicals." Spock had probably been awake for a while now, from the sound of his voice. To others he may have sounded the same old monotonous Vulcan but Jim could hear how refreshed Spock sounded. He wondered if he should start meditating. Maybe it'd help him sleep better.
"Yeah, sure." He sighed, standing up to stretch the stretch of gods. "I'll be there in a bit. Gotta jump in the shower." Closing the communicator, he made his way first to turn the alarm clock off, then off to the bathroom. He chose to forgo looking in the mirror this time, turning the water on without waiting, instantly jumped in to the cold water to wake himself up.
He'd slept a total of two hours. Two hours of dreamless sleep, which didn't happen very often, and felt it in his aching bones. He hoped he wasn't because Bones would be able to detect it and probably confine him to one of those uncomfortable sick bay beds or stick him with another annoying hypospray. He leaned his head against the cool tile, waiting for the water to finally warm up, and shivered, goose bumps rising over his entire body. It was a good way to remind him he was alive.
Spock closed his communicator and rose from his sitting position on the couch in his quarters. He'd risen early this morning, finding that he didn't need as much sleep as he thought, and spent it meditating. He'd briefly stopped to take a shower and answer a few messages on his PADD but ended up parking it on the couch, falling into a deep concentration.
Normally his mind was clear and he was able to bring himself to a sense of peace to help start the day, but today it seemed to take everything he had to sit still. It was rare for the Vulcan to be anxious or distracted but today was an unpleasant anniversary of sorts.
It was two years ago today that Spock and Nyota had gone their separate ways. Of course they really couldn't have gotten far from each other after the split because neither one was going to abandon the Enterprise but if there was any hint of a friendship afterwards, it was gone now.
Sure they tried to keep it professional for the crew's sake but Nyota couldn't help but throw a few awkward glances Spock's way. He tried to ignore them at first but after a few months he found himself avoiding being around her at any moment of downtime. It left him confined to his quarters mostly. It left him a bit lonely actually. Besides Nyota, Spock never had a reason to see much of the other crew outside of their shifts on the bridge. He wasn't trying to isolate himself, really, but he figured it was better to be alone most of the time than to recognize his half-human need for company. Or actually a specific need for a certain persons' company.
Blue eyes, red-rimmed with tears, staring up at him, pleading, begging for help and release all at the same time.
Spock could not shake this mental picture. Part of him didn't want it to go away. He assumed it was his human side that loved the bittersweet moment; that wanted to swim in that morbid memory. He was able to control that urge when he was up on the bridge but once he was alone in his room, alone with his thoughts, he couldn't, or wouldn't, stop thinking about that moment where everything fell from his control all at once for his Captain, his friend.
It was difficult for him to emote as easily as he did during the death of James T. Kirk. He'd felt something with Nyota, or he never would have pursued a relationship with her, but never at this volume, or with a man for that matter. It was strange, at first, to think that he could ever bring himself to feel this way for Jim seeing as how they'd began on a bit of an off-note. But as time went on, Spock started to notice little things here and there about the notorious trouble maker.
It was easy to say that Jim had a knack for finding danger in the dark but along with being a magnet for trouble came a sense of honor. Jim would never leave a friend behind because the statistics said they would be better off not going back for them. No, he'd risked heaven and hell to make sure that anyone he, sometimes unintentionally, put in harm's way would make it out alive to see the next day, the next adventure.
There was something to admire in that, and before Spock even had a moment to realize his feelings, to keep his emotions in check, Jim had sealed his fate behind that glass door and lay dying, holding Spock's gaze as his last lifeline. Spock knew at the exact moment, watching Jim's hand slip off the door, that he loved him. It swelled inside him, filled him with a lightness and heaviness all at once. And when Jim's vision faltered and his chest stopped rising and falling, Spock knew he had to do everything he could to cause unbelievable harm to Khan.
A knock at the door broke Spock from his temporary distraction and he rose to answer it. The door slid open, Jim standing there adjusting his yellow shirt. He flashed a smile at the Vulcan, grinning from ear to ear. "Ready? I figured we'd get this physical stuff done with as soon as possible and grab a bite in the mess hall before we start our shifts. You up for some bad tasting coffee?"
Spock tilted his head a smidge. "I have never been one for coffee, Captain. I will still accompany you to the mess hall if there is still time however." Jim clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder, his smile maintaining. The door slid shut behind the both of them as they made their way to the turbo lift.
The hallways were particularly quiet this morning, or so Spock thought. Their boots seemed to pound heavily on the floor with every step they took and Spock couldn't shake the heavy pounding happening in his chest. Sometimes he welcomed those isolated days, especially when it came to moments of spending time alone with Jim. He'd been successful in the first year, to keep his feelings in check around the Captain mainly because he'd spent a good chunk of their first year in space trying to find ways around any drama that would unfold with Nyota.
Some days he didn't even feel Vulcan anymore.
They'd reached the turbo lift and were on their way down to sick back to see Bones. It was quiet in there too, until Jim opened his mouth to yawn. Spock peeked over, noticing that Jim was slumping against the wall of the lift, his eyes closed briefly as another yawn escaped him. He was freshly shaven and his hair wasn't as messy as it appeared some days. His cheeks seemed a little flushed though and his posture was even impossibly more slouchy.
Spock opened his mouth to comment but the doors swished open and there stood Bones with an especially grumpy look on his face. Jim's eyes snapped opened and his grin plastered on his face once more. He hopped out and wrapped an arm around Bones' shoulders, jostling him slightly. "Mornin' Bones!"He chirped. Spock couldn't help but tense up slightly. Something in the way Jim gripped the doctor's shoulders bothered him a little but he tried not to show it as he stepped off the lift after Jim.
Bones grumbled, shaking Jim off of him, and turned to walk back to the sick bay beds. "Yeah yeah, a perfect morning for inspecting other men's bodies. Come on." He ushered the two over and grabbed his tools. "Park it Jim." He gestured to one of the beds and waited, albeit impatiently, for Jim to hop up on the bed, swinging his legs off the side. As Bones started to run his scanner over the Captain, Spock, who stood off to the side to await his turn, became lost in his thoughts as he watched the scanner start from the top of Jim's head, sliding past his chin, making mini circles in front of his chest and finally journeying down-.
Spock shook his head just an inch, a barely noticeable twitch, and mentally kicked himself for letting what he thought was a slip, to happen. Jim was done by now and had hopped off the bed with as much enthusiasm as he had to hop on. Spock calmly walked over and sat down on the same spot where Jim had sat. He was tall enough that his feet were planted firmly on the ground without any straining. He stared straight ahead as Bones began to wave the scanner from the top of his head.
He could see Jim in his peripheral picking up things and putting them down when Bones off-handedly chided him for touching them. He saw Jim pout and remarked how he looked a few years younger when he did so. Somewhere in his mind he made a note to want to see Jim make that face again. He then made another note to tell himself to stop with this note taking while he was in the company of others. All he had to do was wait a few more moments and they'd be on the bridge and his mind would wipe clean on the matters of Jim Kirk and his many facial expressions so that he could focus on work.
"Alright." Bones groaned and set down his scanner. Spock stood, adjusting his blue shirt, and placed his hands behind his back. "Spock, you're good to go, as always." He turned on his heel, glaring a little at Jim. "You on the other hand…other than what the scanner can tell me, I can just tell by looking at you that you still haven't been sleeping. What did I tell you about walking around late at night?"
Jim bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his feet. He started to blurt out any excuse to his midnight strolls but Spock didn't hear much of it as his mind started to wander again. He'd had no idea that Jim was taking these late night walks. Sure he noticed that Jim seemed a bit exhausted recently, but spending all that time in his room didn't help when it came to what Jim was up to on his own. He was becoming too distracted. He could hear the conversation fluttering in and out of his awareness but he still lost in his own thoughts.
So much so that he jumped a fraction of an inch when Jim clapped a hand down on his shoulder again. He turned his head, a brow rising slightly at the confused look on Jim's face by his tiny jolt. "You okay Spock?" Jim's brow furrowed a bit, concern riding on his face.
"Affirmative Captain. I was merely calculating the time it would take us to walk to the mess hall before our shifts were to start." He threw out the only logical thing he could think of saying when really all he wanted to do was drag Jim back to bed and force him to sleep. Possibly something else concerning the bed-.
He mentally kicked himself again and tilted the corners of his mouth up slightly, the best he could do for a smile. Jim grinned back, that same damnable grin that Spock was becoming so use to that any other emotion on the Captain's face didn't compare to the glow that grin made. "It'll be fine if we're a little late." He commented before turning to thank Bones for that 'wonderful insight on his sleeping habits and how to fix them'. "Come on, let's get going." He nodded towards the lift and waited for Spock to join him at his side.
I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I will try to keep up a good update schedule but I have some other projects I have to work on as well plus I just recently had a baby boy, who has just turned 3 weeks a couple days ago so it takes me a good while to write up chapters.
Don't forget to leave a review!