A collective gasp around the bridge was the only sign that James Tiberius Kirk received when he implied that he drove his father's convertible off of a cliff, almost taking him with it, and, in essence, attempting suicide.

He had been tense ever since the Narada incident, remembering that he, like his father, could have perished at the grimy hands of the Romulans, and, in a tidal wave, remembered what his life was like as a child because of what he thought to be his father's bravery. Images and memories wracked his mind, and he visibly winced at the sheer memory of the pain. Kirk's hands were firmly clenched on the arms of the chair he had worked....well...not so hard to get, in an attempt to keep his thoughts to himself. Spock then asked if he was alright, a simple gesture. In an unexpected outburst, completely unbecoming of an up-and-coming Starfleet captain, and in front of the whole damn bridge, no less, he stood up in a nanosecond and turned to Spock, and yelled,

"No shit, I'm not! Goddamn it to hell, why did I have to be put on this motherfucking starship?! Why didn't I just keep myself in that fucking convertible I loved so damned much and go off that cliff with it?!"

Then, as the blonde man came down from his adrenaline spike, the bridge went silent for a good two to three minutes. No one dared say anything that could potentially provoke the captain, whether it be comforting or not.

Realizing what he had done, which was basically making himself unfit for duty by any means, he stumbled a bit before heading in the direction of the doorway. Shakily, he mumbled,

"Mr. Spock, you have the bridge."

Without turning his gaze from the floor, Jim said, "Bones....I am clearly not fit for duty, and I hereby remove myself from said duty, and will not return until you give the okay. I will have daily therapy sessions with you or Mr. Spock until you decide I am mentally stable and ready for duty once more."

Kirk didn't say whether those instructions were orders or not because he hoped he didn't need to, and left the bridge silently, still trembling from what had just occurred.

All he did know was that this...this must have been how Spock felt when he provoked the troubled Vulcan. And that thought hurt more than the scars that were left from his past.

Silently, the bridge went back to business, trying to forget what had just occurred, but muttering to each other their worries.

"Did you know about that?" Sulu whispered to Chekov.

"No. I did not. Vhatever happened to the keptin must 'av been horrible if he had vanted to take his life. He did not seem like the person to do zat to me." Chekov whispered back, still slightly scared and worried about his captain.

Uhura was talking to Scotty on the matter.

"And to think I totally hated him for his attitude. Maybe that was just a cover for whatever happened in his past?" Uhura muttered.

"Aye, lass. That was probably what it was. All we need to worry about now is keeping the captain safe....from himself." Scotty replied.

Spock, who had overheard all of the conversations thanks to his sensitive hearing, pulled Bones aside, and in a low voice, said,

"Why did he also choose me for his therapy? We do not get along well, our temperaments consistently clash, and I was....unaware that he trusted me enough to help him in his current state."

Bones sighed. "Yeah, I've noticed that. Maybe he knows your Vulcan principles can help in some way. Hell, maybe he likes you, how the hell do I know? I'm a doctor, not a matchmaker. All I know is that my superior officer has had an emotional breakdown, and I'm the main one who has to fix it. And, according to his orders, so are you." the man whispered in an irritated tone.

A very slight shiver worked its way up Spock's spine at the mere possibility that his captain was infatuated with him. He had only recently broken off his relationship with Uhura, since their personalities did not match well. He wasn't sad or angry about it, as would be typical of his Vulcan heritage. He simply knew it to have happened, and therefore it happened.

But...a relationship with James? He would have to carefully consider the possibility. Certainly not anytime soon, given his mental status.

Several things were on the floor, broken, everything was messed up, and, amazingly, there was a hole in the wall when McCoy came to check on Jim in his quarters.

That he had expected. What he didn't expect was the sight of his captain crying on his bed, back turned to face towards the door. He had tried, and succeeded, to make his voice sound distant, but professional when he allowed Bones to come in.

Bones found a chair, upturned, and righted it and sat down.

"Jim....what happened?" he said.

No expletives, not even his customary irritated tone. He knew this wasn't the time or the place for that.

Kirk only mumbled something into his pillow about being captain and that he shouldn't have shown everybody that display of vulnerability. That he should have kept it quiet.

"Jim, if you were like that for a while, why didn't you come to me about it?"

"I...wanted to be strong. Like I always have been." Kirk said, a little louder, still into the pillow, muffling the comment.

This made Bones' temper flare. Sighing, he said,

"Dammit, Jim. Being strong doesn't have to mean keeping things to yourself until you blow up! That display could get you kicked out of Starfleet and into a mental health facility!"

Bones only wanted to know why, why he had wanted to give up his life. The captain of the flagship of the fleet. Jim didn't seem the guy to want to do that, with his hate of no-win scenarios and cocky, I'm-so-awesome-and-you-are-not attitude and what not.

But....just maybe....that attitude and hate were covers, masks for what had happened since.

And Bones intended to tear them down.

I have a lot of work to do.... Bones thought to himself.

Jim recounted part of what had happened. He had decided to do this in a chronological way, the only way that would make sense. The earliest memories were only flashes, only feelings.

Frank was the only father figure I really had, and he was the worst one a kid could have. I wouldn't realize until much later that he was a manipulator, a person who could sway people with his charm, his wit, to anything he desired.

The next thing I remember was the yelling. Not between my mother and Frank, no. She was oblivious to his dark side, since he never showed it to her face. No, it was my brother and Frank. He was only eight or so, but he hated our "step-dad" of sorts with a passion. Then I remember the sound of a belt buckle hitting bare skin. I could only watch in horror as Frank beat my brother into what he wanted, but never fully achieved, submission. After he was done, and my brother, on the floor, whimpering softly, he said, pointing at me, and I'll never forget,

"You're next, Jim."

I silently took off my shirt, as I didn't want it yanked off by him like my brother had, and knelt on the floor in the same way. I then felt pain, blinding pain that made me see spots in my vision. I cried out, and that was all the fodder Frank needed to strike another blow. Then several more. I blacked out after a while, and the next thing I remembered was my mother hovering over me and horrible pain on my back.

"Oh, he's awake! Frank, what happened to him?" she asked frantically.

"He slipped on a bottle and hit his head on the flooring." Frank answered.

He was a drunk, so my mother believed him, even though there wasn't a bottle in the room and there were blatant bruises on my back. My mother was rather dense.

Then there was the verbal abuse. Drunken words never hit as hard as when you're hearing them every day for years. The words "bastard" and "mistake" were common ones I had heard very often. Other times, he would simply call me a nuisance and a stupid kid. Still, I wanted to prove him wrong. Not that he cared, but I certainly did.

I don't even want to go into what happened sexually. All I will say is that I only have sex with everyone once, but never the same person twice. That's why I switch between girls and guys like wildfire. Because I don't think I could be in a serious relationship after what had happened.

This torment would last until I was eighteen, and I could finally leave the hellhole that was my life, and start again.

"My god....you were abused that much?" Bones said in a low voice.

Jim merely nodded, silent after what he had to remember. He hadn't even gotten to the worst bits of memory, and he was trembling. He needed someone to hold him, to tell him that things would be alright. Someone who could make him forget everything that had occurred with their touch.

Bones sighed. "Well...we've made some progress, I'll tell you that. I'll go get Spock to come in here and talk with you."

Again, Jim only nodded. Part of him wanted Bones to stay, just so that he felt safe from grabbing the nearest sharp object and stabbing himself with it, doing what he had wanted for years. The other wanted to see him go so that he could see Spock. He didn't know why, when all the Vulcan had given him was frustration, but he wanted to hear the soft, smooth, unemotional tones of the man's voice.

Could I be in love with Spock? Kirk asked himself. If I am, then he won't share the feeling, I'm sure.

Sighing, he lay on the bed, trying to go to a place in his mind where there wasn't pain.

He couldn't find one.

Spock sat in the same chair Bones had. He was also shocked to see a hole in his wall, when the ship's interior was meant to take much more than a simple punch.

"I need to do a mind meld with you in order to see what happened." Spock said simply.

Kirk nodded. "Sure. Do whatever you need to."

"I will not do or see anything you object to, Captain." Spock said as he started to get ready for the meld.

"Whatever." Kirk muttered.

Moving to Kirk' side, placing his hand on his face in the fashion for a meld, Spock closed his eyes and focused into the memories, the feelings.

Pain....the feeling of the belt buckle hitting his skin...

Fear....the feeling Kirk would get whenever he was left alone with Frank and what he would do to him behind closed doors...

Sadness....the feeling he would feel after the beatings and abuse subsided for the time being, as if he had done something wrong...

The need for suicide was strong. Kirk had felt it for some time. Spock knew that he was feeling that urge even now.

Violent images seared Spock's mind. The sight of the bruises on his back, the imagined images of different methods of suicide Kirk had made up, and as all of them ended, his body, bloody and broken, unmoving.

Spock released his hand from Kirk's face. Kirk was crying at this point, not caring that Spock was watching him.

"Humans tend to feel an overload of emotion after a mind meld." Spock said softly.

Jim muttered through the tears, "Yeah, that's what your counterpart told me."

Spock felt an extreme urge to put a hand on Kirk's shoulder, to tell him everything would be okay. He knew he didn't know whether that would be true or not, but it seemed to comfort humans in hearing those words.

"May I.....hug you?" Spock asked.

Kirk looked up, shocked. "What?!"

"I would like to comfort you, and humans find physical contact comforting. You seem to be in a state of sadness, and I wish to help. If you would prefer that I do not...." Spock replied.

"N-no, you can." Jim said quietly, and felt the Vulcan's strong arms around him, the extreme warmth emanating from his body, and Jim felt the tears stop.

"I....I....love you, Spock." Jim said quietly into Spock's shoulder.

"I realized that you were infatuated with me. I also find you attractive, physically, and I think our personalities are that of what humans call a "love/hate" relationship. I do not, however want to take advantage of your vulnerability at this moment." Spock replied, the words Kirk had wanted to hear for...he didn't know how long, exactly, but he wanted to hear them.

"Come on, Spock, I don't care. You can take me right here and I wouldn't mind. But I just want to feel loved." Kirk said, exasperated.

"Though I do not feel emotion, I can be "loving." And I am hesitant to do that very action, since you are mentally unstable, and you may not know what you are saying." Spock said simply.

"Spock...shut up and kiss me." Kirk said before lifting his head to kiss Spock on the lips.

Spock's eyes widened slightly, and he pulled away. "Captain..."

"Call me Jim." the man said in a low, hoarse voice before kissing him again.

This time, Spock didn't stop him. If this was what he wanted, he would do it.

Jim deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue in Spock's mouth, licking at his teeth and playing with his tongue. Spock moaned softly into the kiss, and tightened his grip on Jim, making sure not to use his full strength.

Spock decided to take things one step further but still giving Jim all the control. Breaking the kiss, he pulled away, panting slightly, and pulled Jim's shirt over his head. Throwing it aside, he then paused with his hand over the zipper on his pants.

"Jim...do you want this?" Spock asked politely. "Do you want what I'm going to do?"

Jim nodded, also slightly breathless. "Please....make me feel good. Make me forget."

Spock merely nodded, and pulled down the zipper, and pulled Jim's already hard member out of his briefs.

The Vulcan paused slightly before taking the tip of his erection into his mouth, licking it in a teasing way, earning a moan from Jim. Slowly, he slid his mouth over his shaft, and pulled back, the friction eliciting more languorous sounds from his captain. Jim swore Spock had never given a guy a blowjob before, but from the way he performed fellatio, he felt like he had done it forever, and that thought made him moan deeper.

Jim's hips began to thrust involuntarily, and Spock had to repress his gag reflex. He pulled away enough so that it wouldn't hit his throat again, and continued his ministrations until Jim felt his orgasm rip through him, his seed filling Spock's mouth.

Pulling away, Spock had no other option than to swallow, the salty taste foreign, yet pleasing. Silently, he wiped his mouth on a cloth he found lying around, and lay next to Jim, who was so far out of it that he didn't even zip up his pants.

"Jim....T'hy'la...are you okay?" Spock asked quietly, helping to re-dress his lover from the waist down, and taking the blonde into his arms, cradling him softly.

"Yes...." the young man whispered, tears slowly forming around his eyes, "'Maybe you could walk with me a while....maybe I could rest beneath your smile...everybody stumbles sometimes and needs a hand to hold....'cause it's a long trip alone...'"

"Jim?" Spock inquired.

"It's an old 21st century country song. It's one of my favorites. And it reminds me of you..." he answered, his voice quivering before he let out a sob and buried his head in Spock's chest.

Spock let Jim cry, not protesting that his uniform top was getting wet, for he had known that this was what the captain had wanted to do for the longest time, but never able to do because of his image that he had to keep up.

Spock knew of the human stereotype that males weren't supposed to cry, that they were supposed to be strong for the women, who were allowed that comfort. He felt, laying with Jim, his tears wetting his shirt, that that stereotype needed to be done away with. If beings were to have emotion, they should be able to express it without judgement.

He only made soft, cooing sounds to comfort Jim, letting him take his time.

When the flow of tears gradually subsided, and Jim picked himself up, drying his eyes and smiling sadly, very different from his cocky, egotistical smile, he said softly,

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"It is quite alright. I do not mind." Spock replied.

"I feel...different. Like...a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders." Jim contemplated.

"It is common for humans to feel that way after an emotional experience." Spock said.

"Well, all I know is that both you and I need to change our uniforms, and I have more therapy to do. Though I think I feel I don't need it anymore." Jim said, sighing.

"I will go back to my quarters and change. Then, after we are both clean, we can talk to Dr. McCoy about letting you go back to duty. Since you relieved yourself, he alone has the power to deem you fit for duty." Spock decided.

"All right, then. Let's do that." Jim agreed, and before Spock could leave, Jim placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"And maybe next time, I'll make you feel good in return." he said, smirking in his customary way.

"Indeed." Spock simply replied.

About three days later, the "born again" James T. Kirk walked onto the bridge. Bones wouldn't let him go back immediately after his little outburst, but agreed that if he didn't have any more breakdowns within three days, he would be willing to let him go back to his duty of captain. Bones also decided against telling Starfleet about the little incident, even though, if word got out about the breakdown to Starfleet Command, McCoy would have his ass handed to him in the form of a potential court-martial.

Kirk didn't use his time away from command unwisely, in his opinion. Keeping him and his Vulcan awake for much of the three nights in their lovemaking was a good use of his time.

The bridge crew were glad to see that the captain had recovered well, and they weren't afraid to say it.

"Keptin, it is wery nice to see you back! I vas worried about you!" Chekov said happily, pouncing on the man as if he were a puppy, although it was certainly not per regulations.

"Aye, lad, the kid is right. I donnae know what we would'a done without ya." Scotty said, slapping Kirk on the back enthusiastically.

Even Uhura was glad, a smile lighting up the features on her face.

"I'm just glad to see you back." she said.

Sulu said, "Well, we've been virtually sitting in space for almost a week now, and I have an urge to go warp seven!"

"Then let's hit it!" Kirk said, sitting back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankle. "Sulu, ahead, warp seven."

"Aye, captain." he replied.

The ship sped up, and blinked out of existence, leaving Kirk's past behind in the cold vacuum of space, never to be returned to.