I do not own Star Trek! Enjoy!
Chapter Seven
"Damn it, Jim."
Outside, a pink glow was settling on the sky, as the sun began to set. Bones had run to the Enterprise, giving Jim a hypospray to calm his breathing. Now, they found themselves in a bar, the nearest on to the Enterprise. It was dark and practically empty, with Terran, indie music playing. But it had alcohol, and that was enough for the both of them.
"Maybe you should consider therapy, kid," Bones spoke slowly, grimacing as he saw Jim's gaze shoot from his drink to the doctor, incredulously. "Okay, bad idea."
Jim just responded by taking a large sip of his drink, a movement followed by his worried friend's eyes.
"I'm worried about you, kid," Bones broke the silence. "You're not sleeping, I'm pretty sure you've lost weight, talking of which, when did you last eat?"
"Yesterday morning," Jim answered, avoiding Bones' eyes. He saw his friend tense in his peripheral vision but refused to meet his eyes. As he heard him rummaging in his pocket, he knew what was coming. His predictions were deemed correct, as a hypospray made contact with his neck, gentler than the doctor usually administered them.
"You just carry them around with you?" Jim asked, finally looking at the doctor's face.
"Got to keep you alive, haven't I?" Bones responded in his usual gruff tone, before smiling.
"What would I do without you?" Jim questioned.
"I don't know, but for one, I know that I'd be at a lower risk of a stroke without you."
The two friends smiled at each other again, before laughing.
"You'd miss me too much," Jim pointed out.
"I've missed you too much as it is," the doctor replied, honestly, concern filling his eyes as he looked at his friend.
"What are you talking about?" Jim frowned.
"Lately, kid, all I've seen is a Captain. I haven't even seen you honestly happy in months."
Jim just smiled, a small smile, which didn't reach his eyes, as he lifted his drink to his lips.
Lying on the sofa in his temporary quarters, a holovid playing, Jim sat on his padd, flicking through the news articles of the day. In all honesty, he was bored. None of the holovids was interesting him, none of the news was interesting to him, and other than Scotty and Bones to check on how he was, his comm was blank.
A sudden knock on his door, startled Jim into an upright position, effectively headbutting his padd. Cursing, Jim jumped to his feet at the sound of another knock, jogging to the door.
Rubbing his head, Jim swung the door open, revealing Spock, stoic as ever, with his fist hovering the air, ready to knock on the door again. He quickly clasped his arms behind his back, nodding at his Captain.
"Spock?" Jim questioned, startled and anxious towards the other's presence.
"Captain, may I come in."
"Erm, yeah, of course, Commander," Jim confirmed. If Spock was going to use formal address, so was he, ignoring the little burst of satisfaction he felt when he saw Spock's jaw tense when Jim used his title. He was still annoyed at Spock.
Standing in the centre of the Captain's quarters, Spock briefly glanced around, noticing that it was as bare as his own temporary quarters, only with a few garments of clothing strewn upon the occasional item of furniture, and a single chess set on the coffee table. Turning to face Jim, Spock noticed that he still stood at the door, unsure of whether he needed to close it or leave it open.
"Jim," Spock spoke softly, causing blue eyes to flash to his. "Would you be comfortable with playing a game of chess with me?"
"Depends," the blonde replied coldly. "Is it part of your duties to keep me entertained, as well as protect me?"
"It is always my duty to protect you, regardless of the similarities to my responsibilities as your First Officer," Spock replied, without hesitation, causing Jim's lips to part slightly in shock.
After several moments of cerulean boring into chocolate, Jim closed the door.
One chess match turned in to two, and now into three. Spock was seated on the sofa, and despite his dissent, Jim was seated on the floor opposite him, on the other side of the coffee table. However, Spock could see the exhaustion in Jim's movements and in his eyes, more specifically their slightly glazed over appearance and the dark circles beneath them. It was only after several yawns, that Spock decided to take action.
"Jim, I believe it is time for you to sleep."
"You're not my babysitter, Spock," Jim giggled, stubbornly continuing to play the game.
"Actually, Jim, some of my responsibilities as First Officer could be considered to be similar to the job description of a babysitter," Spock responded but decided not to explain further when he saw the small smile on Jim's face fall, his laughter silenced. "Jim, protecting you is not just a responsibility to me. You are my friend. I simply wish to keep you safe. The fact that regulation also supports my endeavour is beneficial."
"And what if regulation didn't support it?" Jim questioned, smiling slightly at what Spock had said.
"I would still protect you through any means necessary," Spock responded confidently.
"Really?" Jim questioned, his shock evident through his parted lips and slightly widened eyes, before coming back to himself, choosing to give him a playful smack of the arm. "I must mean a lot to you, ay Spock?"
"You do," Spock confirmed, unaware that Jim was being humorous. "You are my closest friend."
After a moment, Jim just smiled. It was a soft, sweet smile, one that Spock had not seen before. It was intimate, and Spock found that he had a preference for it.
"I still think that it is time for you to sleep, Jim."
"I don't want to sleep, Spock," Jim countered, a sad smile overtaking the previous. "I've been avoiding it, to be honest."
"Jim, you cannot avoid sleep, you require it to function to your optimal."
"So do you," Jim countered defiantly.
"Vulcan need-"
"Less sleep than humans," Jim finished for him, bouncing his head either side, while looking at towards the ceiling, in mockery.
"Jim."
"Spock."
"You need to sleep."
"No, I-" Yawn. "Don't."
This response only earned him a pair of risen eyebrows, while he chastised his body for being traitorous.
"I'm scared, Spock," the blonde whispered after a few moments, the déjà vu of his words causing memories of the incident in the warp core to breach Spock's mind.
"I'm scared, Spock, help me not to be," requested Kirk, causing the tears contained in Spock's eyes to begin cascading down his face, at the heartbreaking realisation that not only could he not save him, but he could not comfort him in his final moments.
Spock visibly shook his head, in order to regain control and bury that memory deep within his mindscape. He did not wish to remember it. He did not wish to remember the loss he had felt.
"Spock?" Jim questioned, concern in his features. "You okay?"
"Yes, I am adequate," Spock replied in the same stoic tone he used on the bridge, before seeing his Captain's unwavering gaze. "Your words simply reminded me of a traumatic memory."
"Oh," the blonde replied, giving Spock an apologetic smile before it fell away and he paled. "Oh."
"Indeed."
Jim took a few deep breathes, before the colour returned to his face, much to Spock's satisfaction.
"Do you think Chris would have felt the same way?" Jim asked, his gaze fixed on the now forgotten game of chess.
"Admiral Pike did experience fear in his final moments," at Jim's confused frown, Spock clarified. "I melded with him and felt his fear and his pain as though it was my own. I remembered when I was younger, my mother used to say that you should 'focus on the good things in life, because in your final moments, they will be all that will matter to you'. So I showed him various moments from my experience as his First Officer, and he supplied one memory of utmost importance."
"What memory?" Jim frowned, meeting Spock's gaze.
"Meeting you, Jim," Spock answered, causing tears to cloud the other's eyes. "You were like the son he had always longed for. Similar in personality to himself, and selfless."
"He was the closest thing I ever had to a father," Jim admitted, a single tear falling from his cheek and on to the chess board.
"I apologise, Jim. I did not intend to upset you."
"No, no, I'm glad you told me," Jim reached out and patted Spock's forearm softly. "Thank you."
"You are welcome, Jim," Spock replied, placing his other hand over Jim's on his arm, as a comfortable silence settled upon them.
"I fear that my mother did not have a chance to reflect on the positive aspects of her life, before..." Spock trailed off.
"I believe that you were the last thing she thought of," Jim comforted, as he started to rub small circles on the other's arm with his thumb. "You were the best thing in her life, and I am sure that she was so proud of you. I wish that I could have met her."
"She would have liked you," Spock smiled slightly. "You would have been incredibly illogical together."
"Maybe in another life, huh?" Jim smiled too, aware of another Vulcan who had proved to him that it was possible.
"Perhaps," Spock responded, equally aware of this certain individual. "I miss her, Jim."
Jim's eyes widened slightly at the vulnerability in his friend's tone. Instinctively, Jim rose from his position on the ground, walking around the coffee table, before grabbing the Vulcan's shoulders and pulling him into a hug.
Understanding the Vulcan's preferences for physical contact, Jim began to pull away and apologise, when Spock brought his arms around his waist and held him tightly. Jim placed his hands on the Vulcan's back, unconsciously rubbing small circles of comfort.
After standing in that position for several moments, the blonde released a large yawn.
"Jim..." Spock started, starting to release him.
"I know, I know."
"You require rest, therefore I shall take my leave," Spock identified, before beginning to make his way to the door.
"Stay," Jim spoke, causing Spock to pause for a moment before turning around hesitantly. "Please. I slept better that night when you were with me."
Spock only hesitated for a few moments longer, before nodding.
"I shall sleep on the sofa then," causing the blonde to roll his eyes.
"No need to be a gentleman, Mr Spock," Jim spoke as he made his way to the bedroom. "My bed is big enough for two."
"That would be inappropriate, Captain."
"Jim!" the blonde called out, frustrated. "Call me Jim."
"Jim," Spock corrected. "You will be more comfortable without me hindering-"
"Please, Spock," Jim pleaded, gazing intently at Spock, a look which the brunette found that he could not refuse.
With a nod, Jim smiled and jumped on to the bed, getting comfortable, before Spock removed his shirt, leaving him in his black regulation shirt.
"You can borrow a pair of my pyjamas if you want, you know," Jim offered, yawning again.
"Thank you, Jim," Spock accepted, knowing that if he refused, he would as he had heard other humans say: 'never hear the end of it'.
However, as Spock exited the bathroom, still in his black undershirt, and a pair of green and navy, checked pyjama trousers of Jim's, he vulnerably let out a sigh of relief at the sight before him. Upon the bed, the blonde was already asleep on his side, facing Spock.
Padding across the room, to Jim's side of the bed, the Vulcan pulled up the covers to cover the blonde, before slowly reaching out and giving in to his urge to move his blonde locks from his forehead. The sensation was being addictive to the brunette, as the blonde hair felt soft on his fingertips in this intimate gesture.
Finally, getting into the vacant side of the large bed, Spock lay on his back as he pulled the covers up to cover himself. Turning his head to the left, Spock reached out with his hand, placing it upon Jim's meld points, sending feelings of calmness, in the hope that it would keep the blonde's nightmares away. As his hand retreated, his knuckle rubbed the other man's cheekbone gently.
"Goodnight, Jim." I love you.
Please review!
