Oh hey! The image of high school Jim on the ground with a broken arm and Spock coming to help him popped into my head one night, and then I thought, "Why would Jim have a broken arm?" Well, this is why.
Jim was walking home from school, hot, hard dirt underneath his feet and the resultant dust in his eyes. His head was down so he didn't have to squint against the blinding sun, and that was how he missed the very large boy walking towards him.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, fucktard!" the boy shouted.
Jim looked up and was about to apologize when another boy to his left caught his attention. "Well, well, well, if isn't Jimmy Kirk." The boy grabbed an old-style book sticking out of Jim's backpack: Negotiation Tools for Captains and Officers, and threw it on the ground. "You know they don't let butt pirates be captains, don't you?"
"Guess you're out of luck as well, Williams," Jim retorted.
"At least I don't get off on letting some freak mutt suck my cock," Williams scoffed.
Jim threw down his backpack and stomped over to the other boy. Marty Williams had a good five inches on Jim, but that didn't stop him. "Take it back," he demanded.
Marty laughed. "Jesus, Kirk, you look like a freakin' kicked puppy. I bet you're the bottom, aren't you?" Marty scrunched his nose. "Your dad would be so disappointed: a Kirk taking it up the ass from some half-breed abomination."
Jim screamed in blind rage as he shoved Marty to the ground. He immediately jumped on top of him, kicking up an incredible amount of red dust as he pummeled Marty. Marty's friend, Andy Evans, hauled Jim away and punched him hard in the face. Jim stumbled back and fell, hitting the ground with a thud.
He scrambled up quickly, swinging wildly at Andy, who grabbed his arm and twisted forcefully. Jim heard a resonant crack, and the pain in his arm was so bad he almost vomited. Luckily, he passed out before he could.
He woke up to someone calling his name and running a thumb back and forth across his cheek. The pain in his arm was so bad he was momentarily blind. "Calm yourself, Jim," he heard, and he blinked a few times until he could focus.
"Spock," he whispered.
"I am here, ashayam."
"Fuck. My arm."
"It is broken. I called for an ambulance."
"How did you find me?"
"When you did not arrive at my residence at the appointed time, I retraced your route home from school. I found you here unconscious."
Sirens sounding alerted the two of the ambulance's arrival, and Spock helped Jim sit up. They both recognized the first EMT to hop out of the vehicle.
"Dammit, Jim," Leonard said, scanning Jim with his tricorder.
"Good to see you too, Bones."
"I'm pretty sure when Principal Pike suggested you get involved in some after school programs he didn't mean hand-to-hand combat."
Jim winced. "Wasn't my fault. Andy Evans and Marty Williams," he said by way of explanation.
Leonard shook his head. "Fuckin' dicks. You've got a badly broken right arm and a light concussion. We're gonna have to take you back and knock you out to fix the arm-it'll be too painful without anesthesia."
Spock and Leonard carefully helped Jim up and into the ambulance, where they gave Jim a painkiller that didn't completely eliminate the fire in his arm, but helped to dull it.
The only anesthetic that Jim wasn't allergic to was the most powerful one available: propohexital. It rendered Jim basically comatose, but was the only option if Jim didn't want to pass out from pain again.
The doctor set Jim's arm using a bone knitter and regenerator and promised he'd be back with more painkillers when Jim woke up. Leonard was still on shift, but came in for a moment to check on the two boys. "Did he say what happened?"
Spock was sitting in a chair by the bed, softly stroking the hair on Jim's forehead. "He did not."
"Andy and Marty are fuckin' tools," Leonard replied. "You know Jim doesn't fight to defend his own honor. He'd never take anything those two said about him so seriously."
Spock did not look at Leonard; only nodded, but the message was clear. Andy and Marty had clearly said something about someone close to Jim, probably Spock. Spock knitted his brow as he processed the information, and barely noticed when Leonard left the room.
"T'nash-veh kyi'i sa-kan," he said softly, still running his hand gently over Jim's hair. "Ni maut kyi'i. T'nash-veh ashaya. T'nash-veh kanok-vei."
Jim woke groggily, noticing the lack of pain in his arm and that the previous throbbing of his head was now a very dim thump.
"Hello, e'tum," Spock greeted, his eyes shining with relief and happiness and pride. Jim held his hand out and Spock met it, brushing their first two fingers together. Just then, the doctor returned and discharged Jim, giving him some painkillers for his head.
As Jim was dressing, Spock finally stood and asked the question that had been on his mind since his earlier conversation with Leonard: "What happened, Jim?"
Jim turned around while zipping up his jeans. "Andy Evans broke my arm."
Spock let out an almost inaudible huff. "Perhaps I should rephrase the question: What did they do that made you so upset?"
Jim paused with his shirt over his face before letting it slide down all the way. "They just...said some stuff."
"I do not mean to pry, but-."
"What do you want to hear, Spock?!" Jim shouted. "You want to hear the shit they said about you?! Because I'd rather not repeat it."
"I assure you that I probably heard worse on Vulcan."
Jim sighed and slumped on the bed. "Why do you want to know so bad?"
"Because you are troubled, tal-kam veh, and I wish to ease the feeling."
Jim's mouth twitched at the endearment before he sighed. "They called you...they called you a mutt. And a half-breed abomination. They said my dad would be disappointed that I let myself 'take it up the ass' from you."
Spock's being Vulcan was the only factor that allowed him to breathe calmly to relieve his anger instead of punching the nearest heart monitor. "I have heard much worse. But this hurt you."
"Of course it hurt me!" Jim replied, standing up and sitting right back down again. "No one fucking talks about you like that in front of me."
Spock ran his fingers along the underside of Jim's wrist. "As I have told you before, it is not necessary for you to engage in physical altercations on my behalf. However, I know you will continue to do so. So in that case, thank you for defending me in my absence."
"You're thanking me?" Jim asked.
"It seemed...appropriate."
Jim smiled and leaned in to give Spock a quick kiss. "You wanna go to my house and watch High Noon?"
"An apt choice," Spock answered as they left the room.
They arrived at Jim's house and sat against the headboard of his bed, Jim taking the comforter off the bed and wrapping it around both of them.
Jim cuddled into Spock as they watched Grace Kelly get off the train to help Gary Cooper, and smiled.
"Love can conquer many things," Spock remarked.
"Yeah," Jim said quietly, turning his face into Spock's chest. "It can."
Propohexitol is a drug I made up by combining two anesthetics: propofol and methohexital.
Vulcan translations (nothing is conjugated, if that's a thing in Vulcan, so they're entirely literal):
ashayam-beloved
T'nash-veh kyi'i sa-kan-my brave boy
Ni maut kyi'i-so very brave
T'nash-veh ashaya-my love
T'nash-veh kanok-vei-my everything
e'tum-beautiful
tal-kam veh-dear one