A/N: The idea of this project came to me while listening to Death Cab for Cutie's album Transatlanticism while on a fairly long car trip. I am planning on having it be eleven chapters long (each one corresponding with it's appropriate song). Listening to the accompanying song before/after/during reading will enhance the experience and I have unabashedly stolen some lyrics to further link them up. I strongly suggest to listen as it helps set the mood too. THIS IS SLASH! So if you don't like that stuff you prolly won't like this. I know this feels rather prologue-y, but that was actually more or less intentional. I would be pleased to get some reviews on this with any suggestions and/or criticism. This story doesn't have a beta yet either, so if you're interested send me a PM! I love any and all followers of my stories and treat reviewers well! Any ways, on to the story! I have now put up the 2nd chapter and it is infinitely better than this one, so read that please before you come to a decision about this series!
Jim climbed the creaking steps carefully- each one bending beneath his weight and only barely seeming able to hold together. He wrinkled his nose as the musty smell of the attic hit him. The dust blanketing every flat surface of the small room stirred as if sensing his presence, forcing a violent sneeze. Jim took shallow breaths as he moved to the back of the room and gently pulled open the soft, worn cardboard box. He slowly delved into its contents- reluctant to acknowledge the existence of the materials inside. Not long ago he had grimly decided that in order to move forward he couldn't have these pieces of his past anchoring him here.
Finally closing his fingers around the smooth fabric that had been his sole reason in braving this decrepit place. Standing swiftly, he rushed back down the damaged stairs- not caring for their condition, but only wishing to rid himself of the chill that settled on his shoulders. Jim reached his room and leant against the wall, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths and wondering just how this place always managed to get under his skin so thoroughly. When he felt like he had regained his composure again, he stepped in front of the full length mirror next to his dresser and brought the blue grey fabric against his chest-his father's old suit looked as though it would fit perfectly.
Spock dropped into the firm chair that sat across from the trim, sterile looking bed in his assigned cabin. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths. Pressing through the dense crowds of people while boarding the transport had been…. trying. Spock's ability to keep his emotions reigned in had been severely compromised these past few weeks and the other voyagers aggressively competing for space were not helping. Yet again, his once insatiable curiosity had left him and now he merely wondered if he had made the right decision.
He pressed himself further into the chair's confines- imagining a warm, dry breeze lightly lifting his hair. He could smell the heady spice of the desert and feel the gritty sand scratch at his skin. The illusion broke as a voice came on over the PA- announcing in several different languages- that they would be departing soon and all passengers should head to their respective cabins. Spock pulled his sweater tighter, snuggling deeper into his multiple layers, already feeling cold. He felt in his pocket for the reassuring, frayed edges of the Polaroid he kept on his person at all times. With a heavy sigh that conveyed more emotion than any words he'd spoken- Spock withdrew the photo portraying a human woman. His mother's contrite smile nearly covered by the layers of fabric she hid behind.
Jim ambled down the street, taking his time and staring up at the stars, unable to shake the strange feeling that had enveloped him as the year drew closer and closer to its close. The uproar of the party started to reach his ears and he felt his shoulders grow tense. He hadn't felt at ease around crowds for the past few months now, but it was hard to convince everyone he knew when most of his life he had been seen as the life of the party. He stopped just across the street from the house- lights strewn across the white fence in front, music blaring from an antique boom box on the front steps, and a myriad of people dancing and talking on the front lawn- all wearing the classiest clothes they could find. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips ad he moved into the crowd and immediately found the table where they were serving alcohol.
Bones, his closest friend and the one hosting this party, offered him a plastic champagne flute with a grunt of acknowledgement. "Glad to see you came, you always manage to really get everyone going." Firecrackers went off nearby and a few cheers echoed throughout the group. They both chuckled at the inebriated excitement that charged the place- making everything much more entertaining than it would be normally. "We all needed this- y'know. The chance to just forget about everything and pretend that we're wealthy and carefree for just this once." The older man sipped from his glass and the two of them enjoyed the companionable silence.
Spock wandered through the dark streets, trying to get his bearings using the wildly inaccurate map on his PADD. He came across a park bench near a small copse of trees that he was certain that he'd seen before. He sat on the bench and sifted through the last hour in his head- attempting to make his own map inside his head. He couldn't help but smirk at the irony of his situation. He had recently convinced himself to try and further embrace his human side and his presence here was the result of his attempt at spontaneity. That very spontaneity was also the reason as to why he was currently lost while trying to find some place to stay until he found a more permanent residence.
He looked up suddenly, startled to see explosions bloom across the night sky, but instead of hearing panic the sound of cheering reached his ears and he furrowed his brows confused as to what was happening. A small group of children laughed as they ran by, stopping to shout Happy New Year! at each person that passed. He looked around at the various small groups of people spread out across the neighborhood lighting small explosives and making as much noise as possible. "How curious." he mused, tempted to join the closest group of humans and inquire as to the specifics of their celebration.
Jim looked up as fireworks began to pop all across he sky- the colors illuminating the streets below in numerous colors. He slowly snuck away from the party, all the attendants distracted by the show above. He grabbed a half empty bottle of liquor on the way out and staggered to find a quiet, secluded place. He could still hear the celebrations of others off in the distance, but the open field he slumped into was pleasingly bare. Wind rustled through the dead plants, he winced at the ground hard, not yet begun to thaw. The wind was bracing and sent chills down his spine. He lifted the bottle to his lips, hoping the spirits inside would warm his blood.
"So this is the new year…. " he whispered to himself. "Yet I don't feel any different." he laid back and looked to the stars, silently imploring them to provide an answer to the questions swirling around in his head. He narrowed his eyes at the contents of the bottle and deciding against it, tossed it off to his right. Sitting abruptly he came to a decision. Tomorrow he was packing a bag and taking his motorbike to the coast. That was where you went when you ran away wasn't it?
Spock dropped his bags onto the musty chair in the corner of the room and fell against the bed- a large cloud of what he hoped was dust rising into the air. He was too tired to care right now- even his Vulcan physiology unable to keep up with the lack of sleep he had been enduring. A cluster of drunken celebrators passed under his window taking their time to pass, apparently unaware that some people were trying to sleep just above. Spock rolled over, trying to block out the sound. How appropriate that my new beginning should coincide with Earth's new year he thought as he began to drift off.