A/N: hi everyone! This is one of my first works in English (I'm Italian!), so please, don't judge me too hard. This angst one-shot came from nowhere: I was just thinking about Kirk and his countless affairs, and how Spock would've react to the information of a wedding, being in love with his captain. I will surely publish other Spirk stories (I just started a new one, that I'll probably finish in a couple of days), so stay tuned. I will probably publish other stories (maybe about Jasico or others related to Percy Jackson or Brooklyn 99 - the show I've been obsessed with lately), so stay tuned for that too. I hope you all enjoy this one-shot and I also hope I'll seen you soon. R&R. Bye!
When you let him go
Spock arranged the black collar of the shirt, which that day seemed particularly tight. He tried not to let on the blush of his face and observed the flowers with which the hall had been embellished for the imminent and timely marriage. That scene was still fresh in his mind, just happened a few weeks earlier: Kirk kneeling, that shiny ring inside the almost retro white casket.
The Vulcanian shook his head and tried not to think too much. What was done was done, and you couldn't change the past, not even with all the technologies of the world and wanting. The Enterprise, however, had also been adorned with unnecessary chatters and gossips, but he had not paid attention to them that much. As he had promised to himself, he had remained impassive at his workstation and, at times, had replaced Jim in the captain's chair. Lieutenant Uhura had wished him the best for the ceremony, while lieutenant Sulu had limited himself to commenting with a "You're gonna do great" of which Spock did not need at all. The Ensign Chekov had remained strangely silent, but he had helped him to understand that the least he thought about it, the better.
He stepped back when one of his colleagues, the head of the Botany Lab, looked at him badly. Since he was not entirely accepted there, he agreed on the fact that had come the time to get changed. He crossed the corridor until he reached the elevator, which opened in the flapping of butterfly wings.
«Deck four.» he recited. Arrived at the destination, the elevator stopped quietly as every time and opened its doors like a flower bud that hatches, so that the scientific officer could get out of it. Some whispers were all he heard through the corridor before he entered his room. Leonard Horatio McCoy was walking around nervous for the longest side of what had been the home of Mr. Spock for the four years he had been serving under Captain Kirk on the Enterprise, by tracing geometrical figures that were nothing short of accurate.
«Oh, Spock. I was looking for you!» exclaimed the brown-haired when he saw him standing on the door. The eyes full of worries looked at him tiredly, while the hunchback, caused by the hard work, made him less and less attractive and more like one of his contemporary.
«It seems obvious to me, doctor, since you are in my room.»
The other one pulled out a grimace at those words. «I guess that's logical, right?» he ironized, raising his eyebrows, quite annoyed. Spock raised him in a silent "You talk well", but he only asked his friend why he was there. The answer he obtained was a little uninteresting and disappointing. «I'm worried.» And it was obvious, he would have added later, on second thought.
«So, what?»
McCoy took a step towards him, folding his hands together behind his back as when he usually did to look more professional. «"So, what?" wasn't the answer I would have ever expected to receive from you, Spock.»
The Vulcanian sighed, tired of hearing unnecessary chatter. «For who is concerned, doctor?»
«For Jim, if you really want to know. He doesn't seem to be himself since that evening.»
Spock looked at him the wrong way for a second before closing his eyes and sighing again. «What's wrong with the behavior of the captain?»
McCoy seemed surprised by his unconcerned attitude. But, in the end, what did he expect from someone like Spock? «He seems out of his self. He would never have planned his marriage so fast. And you don't seem to mind.»
«Perhaps, you should worry less, Dr. McCoy, about the captain and return to your usual work.» Spock passed him and got settled by the bed, impatient to relax a moment before the ceremony.
Leonard shot a dirty look at him and made a sign with his hand before leaving the room.
Spock sat down on the comfort blanket that covered the mattress. He stayed there a few seconds, just enough to decide that the words of his friend were not worthy of great consideration for his part. He got up and opened the closet. The only elegant suit for a wedding he had was a tuxedo without a butterfly or a tie, and Spock agreed that would be fine. He dressed calmly, got settled properly and sighed loudly. The moment had arrived. Although he wanted to remain impassive, he was quite nervous, but he told himself he was calm and that everything would go for the best. He got out of his room to find out that the hallway was desolate: by now all the crew had to have gone to the pre-arranged place for the ceremony, and he also took the elevator to reach it.
When the doors opened, Spock noticed McCoy at one side of the hall, busy fixing Jim's tie. When he noticed his presence, he smiled sincerely and Spock reciprocated with a nod, heading towards the quite improvised altar. The words were not necessary, at that moment. The captain of the Enterprise got settled to his left, all strutting, waiting for his sweet half. When the bride walked out of the elevator and smiled at Kirk, and he reciprocated with equal joy, Spock realized that it was not the time to be selfish. Jim was happy, and it was enough for him to know this to be happy too, despite that feeling of emptiness that was gripping him. The bride, entirely in white, finally came to the altar, and the bridal march stopped with her.
Spock watched his dearest friend with extreme veiled sadness. «Captain, are you ready?»