Title: Fading
Fandom: Star Trek
Genre: Angst
Summary: Spock and Kirk find out the hard way that destiny hates soul mates. Not necessarily slash; more a love affair of the mind than the body.
It always seems to turn out this way, Spock realizes.
The no-win situation that Jim doesn't believe in, that he absolutely can't stand, visits them now.
As he forces his way into McCoy's mind, binding a piece of his soul to the mind of the poor unconscious doctor, he tries to find a way to explain to his t'hy'la that this sacrifice has a point, a reason, a "win."
But he knows Jim better than anyone in the universe (Jim said that once, in the body of Janice Lester, hadn't he?), and he knows that Jim won't see it that way.
He's reminded, sadly and softly, of the old Earth epic about the siege of Troy.
He's only too happy to be Patroklos for Jim; to wear the armor of rank and tenure in the service so he can give the Enterprise a chance to make her way home. He hopes, though, that Jim will understand, and, for once, not be the hero, the Achilles.
He's finished now with the reactor; the radiation stings against his skin and he feels so old and so weary...
And here's Jim, trying to reach him, and Scotty and McCoy tell him what he must already know: Spock's dead already, and, this time, not even his Vulcan blood can save him.
He lurches to the plexiglass to see his friend one last time, and the look in Jim's eyes breaks his heart.
He tries to explain: "The needs of the many outweigh..."
And Jim finishes his sentence for him. He's trying to understand; Spock can see that well enough, despite the fact that his vision is quickly fading.
He'll always be Jim's friend; he says so, though it's illogical and unnecessary.
Jim's still looking at him with perfect, broken eyes, and Spock's vision has remained enough to see them. In fact, they're all he can see.
As even those eyes fade from view, he whispers a hope:
"Live long, and prosper."