A five year, exploratory 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 want it just as vigorously.
Then his ship had been taken away from him and the dream had been put on hold. Not even dying could bring the fantasy back to him. All he could think about while he was fighting for every last breath, for every last minute he could have were those familiar brown eyes staring back at him. Brown eyes filled with tears and pain for him.
He'd raised his hand to the glass door and pressed as firmly as was possible for he could feel himself slowly slip away. He looked up at his friend, his brother, the only person who could complete the other half of him, as a ghost of a smile played on the corners of his mouth.
Just as he watched a tear fall from the other's lash and roll down his cheek, the world had faded to black and he was gone.
There seemed to be no hope 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 as if on a screen before him. Images of Spock's face, his eyes brimmed with tears, his bottom lip quivering with sadness and anger.
In all the time he'd known Spock, Jim had never seen such emotion expressed so freely. He'd seen the rage before but nothing so quiet expressed so loudly without saying a word. It was enough to break Jim's heart.
It hurt knowing that he caused Spock so much sadness. He felt like breaking down in the darkness, but he knew there was no point. Though he was overcome with grief over his own end, he wanted only to see Spock and his crew, his family, one last time. He knew there was no reason to be sad now. He knew he couldn't do much of anything anymore.
Spock would only say it were logical to think this way.
Jim sat down, briefly wondering how everyone else was fairing. He wondered if they had survived and were still fighting the good fight and suddenly he felt an immense warmth suddenly embrace him. He was ready to move on for he could do nothing for anyone anymore.
Jim shut his eyes and took a deep, bone rattling breath. This was the end.
Soft beeps and clicks of working machinery woke Jim from his unpleasant memory. He shook himself out of the trance, goosebumps 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 roughly three years ago.
Three years.
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 felt. He must have frequented this spot more times then he could count. He'd simply gone on another late night walk to clear his overworked mind, but he ended up here.
He always ended up here.
He could probably could've spent hours, and most likely had, just standing at this door and looking down to where he once spent the last few minutes of his life, struggling to breath and hold on.
It was a scary thought, to be standing on the other side looking in, but he actually felt peaceful at the same time. His feet seemed grounded and his mind was calm, knowing that he stood where Spock had stood. It meant that he was safe.
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, turning 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. He nodded once to Jim as he left and fell back into a light slumber.
Jim imaged that if he were back on Earth, in Iowa, he would have seen the sun rising over the horizon by now. He'd spent many sleepless nights in his youth to know when time passed well into the next day. He made a mental note to watch a sunrise again once they docked back on Earth.
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, a few hours was just what he needed to pass for a functioning captain.
The small wall mirror that hung by the door begged to differ though, offering Jim a glance at his disheveled appearance. Sure he looked the part of a Captain, with his yellow shirt, black undershirt, and regulation black slacks, but his hair lay tousled in permanent bed head and his face lay a bit unshaven. The five o'clock shadow clung to his boyish features, giving way to a glimpse into his future. He felt older then he looked.
The only good thing he still admired about himself were his eyes. Those baby blues still sat vibrantly in his head, bursting with color that at times contrasted with his pale and unkempt visage. He could see all the thoughts swirling around in his mind through those blue portals and wondered if everyone else could see it too.
Sighing, Jim ran hand through his hair, tired and exhausted not just from a lack of sleep. He felt too often the doldrums of his depressing thoughts pressing firmly against him. They weighed him down until he was practically helpless. There were days in which he wasn't sure he could get out of bed, but he had everyone else to think about. He had a responsibility to his crew, to his ship, to his friends, but some days he was just sad and when he could find the time, he let himself feel it.
He sighed again and sauntered away from the mirror and from his thoughts. His bed called his name and his brain called for rest. He kicked off his shoes, undressed to his briefs, and clambered onto the bed. He rolled around until he was something of a caterpillar with his covers. He shut his eyes and finally let sleep take him, all the pent up negative energy deflating from him.
An alarm clocked buzzed annoyingly off in the distance, and like most mornings, Jim regretted setting up the alarm clock on the other side of the room. It served its purpose though, continually buzzing until Jim got up and crossed the room to shut it off.
This morning was proving a bit too tough to even roll over, but Jim was cold, his cocoon of covers having fallen to the floor. He groaned and peeked open a sleepy eye. The alarm had been going off for at least ten minutes, which meant he was already late to jumping in the shower. He silently wished the alarm would just go off on its own, lending him a break as if to say sleep was better than anything he'd had to face that day.
Groaning again and knowing that that wasn't going to happen, Jim rolled over and lay halfway off the bed, his feet planted on the ground but his upper half still laying on the mattress.
Something inside told him to forget about his duties as captain, to stay in bed where there were no problems. No paperwork, no crew, no worries about the safeties of other. All the bed cared about was Jim's inability to find comfort long enough for a full night's rest. 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. If it was all he ever wanted then why did this nagging feeling in the back of his mind repeatedly tell him that he just wasn't complete. It reminded him constantly that he wasn't actually a whole person yet. Something was missing, like a piece to an impossible puzzle. All he could think about were where those brown eyes fit.
Sitting up straight, Jim shook his head, trying to make the visions of his death disappear. Though the thought was constantly burning in the back of his mind, it always fought with the image of Spock and on some level kept him feeling balanced. It made him feel that maybe he was just as important to others as they were to him.
His communicator chirped next to him on the small bedside table. Jim reached over and grabbed it, flipping it open. "Mn..hello?" He grumbled, his voice scratchy and deep.
"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 the other sounded. He wondered if he should start meditating. Maybe it would help him sleep better.
"Yeah, sure." Jim sighed, standing to stretch the stretch of the gods. "I'll be there in a bit. Gotta jump in the shower real quick." Closing the communicator, he made his way first to turn the alarm clock off, then dragged himself into the bathroom. He chose to forgo looking in the mirror this time, turning the shower on. Without waiting he jumped into the cold water to help surprise himself awake.
He'd slept a total of two hours. Two good hours of dreamless sleep, which didn't happen very often. He hoped that the cold shower would help wash away any look of exhaustion he had. He was sure that if Bones saw it all he'd probably confine Jim to an uncomfortable sick bay bed or stick him with another annoying hypospray.
Jim leaned his head against the cool tile of the shower, waiting for the water to finally warm up. He shivered, goosebumps rising over his entire body. It was a good way to remind him he was still alive.
Spock closed his communicator and rose from the couch in his living quarters. He'd risen early this morning, finding that he didn't need as much sleep as he thought, and spent it meditating. He briefly stopped to take a shower and answer a few messages on his PADD but ended up ultimately parking it on the couch and letting his mind wander.
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 just sit still. It was rare for Spock to be so anxious or distracted but today was an unpleasant anniversary of sorts.
It was two years ago today that Spock and Nyota ended their relationship. They weren't given any time to actually grieve the loss of it though, neither wanting to abandon the Enterprise, but if there was any hint to a friendship afterwards, it was gone now.
Sure they tried to keep it professional for the crew's sake but it only lasted for so long before either gave each other awkward glances and or spoke to each other in strained tones. Spock had eventually begun to ignore Nyota completely once they were off the bridge and soon he'd started spending most of his time alone in his room.
He really wasn't trying to isolate himself but he figured it was better to be alone most of the time than to deal with things he'd rather not deal with. Sometimes he'd pine for company and it was then that he found himself looking to Jim for spending time with.
Blue eyes flashed before him, red-rimmed with tears and radiation poisoning. They stared up at him, pleading and begging for help, for release.
Spock could not shake off this mental picture. Before he'd been able to push it back and focus on other things but the more time he spent alone, the more his mind wandered and the more he thought of Jim.
The part of him that was his humanity craved the bittersweet memory, made him want to swim in the morbidity of the moment where he thought he'd lost the one person who mattered most to him. Everything had fallen from his control. He was helpless to rescue Jim, the man who sacrificed his life to save so many others.
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. He'd never felt it at this volume though, or for another 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 started off on the wrong foot. As time went on though, 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, even when the odds seemed stacked against them. He'd risked his own life to make sure that anyone he could save, he would.
There was something to admire in that. Before Spock even had a moment to truly realize how he felt about the man, Jim had sealed himself behind that glass door and lay dying, holding Spock's gaze as his last lifeline.
He knew at that 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. When Jim's vision faltered and his chest stopped rising and falling, Spock's rage enveloped him and he knew he needed to hurt someone, to make someone else feel the pain that he was feeling.
A knock at the door broke Spock from his temporary distraction and he realized he'd just been standing in the middle of the room for some time. He answered it to find Jim standing there, adjusting his yellow shirt.
Jim flashed a smile at Spock, grinning from ear to ear. "Ready? I figured we'd get this done with as soon as possible so we can grab a bite to eat in the mess hall. You up for some bad tasting coffee?"
Spock tilted his head ever so slightly. "I have never been one for coffee, Captain, but I will still accompany you if there is time." Jim clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder, a familiar touch the Vulcan had grown fond of. The door behind slid shut as they made their way to the turbo lift.
The hallways were particularly quiet this morning, so quiet that the sounds their boots made on the floor were pounding just slightly louder then normal. It seemed to match the intensity with which the pounding inside his chest made.
He'd been successful in the first year, to keep his feelings for Jim in check. He'd been easily distracted with trying to make things civil and less awkward around Nyota, but recently all he seemed to want to do was spend time with Jim while also wanting to simultaneously spend more time alone in his room.
Some days he was sure he wasn't even a fraction of Vulcan anymore.
They'd reached the turbo lift and were on their way down to sick bay to see Bones, the silence between them was even more noticeable to Spock. He heard Jim yawn and peeked over to see his Captain leaning against the wall of the lift, his eyes closed.
Spock noted he was clean shaven and his hair wasn't as messy as it appeared some days but what was different from this normality was Jim's flushed face and his slouched posture, giving way to a lie that sat underneath the cheerful facade.
He opened his mouth to comment on it but the doors swished open and there stood Bones with an especially grumpy look on his face. Jim's eyes snapped open and a grin plastered itself on his face once more. He hopped out and wrapped an arm around Bones' shoulders, jostling him slightly.
"Mornin' Bones!" Jim chirped.
Spock couldn't help but tense slightly. Something in the way Jim gripped Dr. McCoy's shoulders bothered him a little but he tried not to show it as he stepped off the lift after Jim. It wasn't as if he felt threatened by the other but rather of the intimacy they shared in their friendship. Things would of course be different between Jim and Spock then they were for Jim and McCoy. They were simply better friends and Spock slightly hated them for it.
Grumbling, Bones shook Jim off of him and turned to walk back to the sick bay exam room. "Yeah, yeah. A perfect morning for inspecting other men's bodies. Come on." He gestured, nodding towards the exam table. "Park it Jim."
As Bones started to run his scanner over the Captain, Spock stood off to the side to await his turn. Quite instantly and without warning, his mind began to wander and though his eyes were watching the scanner make small circles around Jim's head, then chin, then chest, his brain was busy coming up with intimate thoughts of wishing to be that scanner.
Spock caught himself before his eyes followed the scanner even further and shook his head just barely an inch. He mentally kicked himself for letting himself slip into daydreaming so easily.
Jim was done 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. He stared straight ahead as the scanner began making circles around his own head.
He could see Jim in his peripheral, picking things up and putting them back down when McCoy chided him for touching them. He saw Jim pout and Spock remarked how he looked a few years younger with that simple facial gesture. Somewhere in his mind he made a note of wanting to see Jim make that face again for it bordered on the line of cute.
Spock then made another mental note that he should cease this note taking before someone started to notice. All he had to do was make it to the bridge and then thoughts of Jim would wipe clean from his mind, leaving way for him to focus on his work.
"Alright." Bones sighed 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 then 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 so late at night? If you need someone to talk to, I can arrange that."
Jim bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his feet. He started to blurt out any excuse he could find for not wanting to talk to anyone but Spock didn't hear much of it. His mind started to wander for what seemed like the millionth time that morning.
He had no idea that Jim was suffering bouts of insomnia. Sure he had noticed that Jim seemed a bit more exhausted recently but what exactly could he see while holding himself up in his own room for a majority of his day? Somewhere inside he was angry at himself for not noticing it sooner or as well as McCoy had by just looking at Jim. He could hear the conversation fluttering in and out of his awareness but he was still so lost in his thoughts that when Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder, he wasn't prepared for it and jumped a fraction of an inch.
Bones had been facing away, thankfully, so only Jim noticed the smallest movement Spock had made. He stopped for a moment to stare at Spock, not sure if he was waiting for the other or himself to speak first.
Spock raised a brow and turned his head, his best way of hiding what had just happened. "My apologies, Captain. I was merely calculating the time it would take us to walk down to the mess hall before our shifts were to start. I am sorry for being so distracted." He threw out the only thing he thought would work but he saw in Jim's eyes that he knew it was a lie too.
Mentally kicking himself, Spock tilted the corners of his mouth up slightly, the best he could do for a smile. Jim slowly but surely grinned back, that same damnable grin that Spock had grown strongly fond of. No other emotion on the Captain's face compared to the glow that grin made.
"It'll be fine if we're a little late." Jim commented before turning to thank Bones for that 'wonderful insight into 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.