I don't know about you, but all I've seen is stories from Spock's POV when Kirk dies. This was bouncing around my head after the first time I watched Into Darkness. Pre-slash but extremely mild. I'd love you all to read and review. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome, mindless bashing will be ignored.


James Tiberius Kirk would not have guessed that this was the way he would meet his demise. Granted, he did not regret his decision. His crew was safe, the Enterprise as well. Sure, he might be missed but he would have been remembered for saving the many lives of his crew. He'd be remembered just like how his father was remembered. That counted for something.

No, James Tiberius Kirk would have guessed that he would have gone out in a fire fight, or died of old age on Earth. He would have guessed that he would have lived a good life, a full life.

He would not have guessed that Spock would be on the other side of the warp core door, trying to process the fact his captain was dying of radiation. He wouldn't have guessed that Spock would shed tears as Kirk slipped into mild hysteria as his body died. He would not have guessed that Spock would be the last thing he saw before he slipped into the darkness.

The darkness was infinite; never truly beginning and never truly ending. It was always moving, swirling around like the deep ocean currents lost to the light above. It was calming, peaceful in the nothingness. He didn't hurt anymore. He didn't have to fight. There was nothing there to harm Kirk.

It was an ethereal feeling in the darkness. Kirk could feel his consciousness alone, disconnected to his body. It was fragmenting. Quickly disintegrating as he plunged deeper into the abyss. He didn't mind so much, it wasn't painful. It wasn't frightening.

It was cold, far colder than before. He could feel the darkness slowing to a mere creep. It didn't stop though, it never stopped. He had stopped descending, stopped splintering. He was stuck in this limbo.

He though he saw something akin to a light further down, calling to him. He wanted to go to it, join with it. It seemed more comforting than the current obsidian ocean he was dwelling in. Kirk could hear voices, familiar voices calling to him. He just needed to get closer, closer to hear what those familiar voices had to say. He tried to descend to the comfort. Some voices beckoned to him, like a siren song to a sailor, urging him to come closer and closer. Others tried to warn him away.

It's not your time yet.

You still have much to do.

You haven't lived life to the fullest.

You have people who need you.

Your first officer needs you.

You can't join us just yet, James Tiberius Kirk.

He felt a tug. Something was trying to pull him away from the light, from his lost friends and family. He struggled, raged against the force. It jerked him back harder, ignoring any further struggle from the young captain. He had felt this presence, this energy before. It was familiar to him. The shadowed sea flowed more freely that it had before; helping the invisible force elevate him away from the small spot of refuge he never got to.

Kirk thought he heard other familiar voices now, voices that still belonged to the living. They became louder, more pressing. He felt as though he was rocketing through the ebony ocean. He felt as though he was nearing the surface. Of what, he couldn't say.

And then it hit him. He broke the surface of the darkened grips of the ocean. He gasped for figurative air, flailing to keep afloat.

He awoke to a quiet medical room. He no longer hurt, though the black ocean had yet to fully leave. His mind was a little slow. It took him an extra second to process the good doctor's jibe.

It took him another to process the fact his first officer was in the medical room as well. He grinned a stupid, weak grin.

Spock. Spock was there, watching over him. Jim's heart fluttered, though whether from the drugs or Spock he didn't know.

"Spock," Jim breathed, "It's good to see you."

Jim could have sworn he saw relief in the vulcan's eyes.

He grinned wider and missed another jibe from Bones. Spock looked amused, or as amused as a vulcan could possibly be. Jim watched Bones and Spock go back and forth, tit for tat. Jim closed his eyes and just listened to them, a smile still on his face.

He was alive.