I promised to post this. Uhm... thank you all for sticking with me and the story of course.
I'll just post these chapter's as fast as I can and when they're betaed, I'll post the betaed version.
I don't really know what to think of this chapter... uuuhm. Yeah. Enjoy!
In Your Eyes
Chapter 17: i am complete
Spock was seated on a meditation mat. He was currently located in one of Gol's many temples, trying to centre himself, while soothing the cauterized wound the bond had left behind. He took a cleansing breath and slowly immersed himself in his thoughts.
"Spock? You have received a call. Your Mother requests that you and your Father return home immediately," T'Pau's voice was quiet, but Spock was on his feet in an instant.
"May I inquire as to why?"
"I do not know for certain, but James seems to have taken ill and is currently without consciousness."
Spock swallowed. If the bond had been still present, he would have felt that something was wrong with Jim. Then he would not have had to find out through a third party that his love was suffering.
No. Jim was not his love.
"Very well, I shall retrieve my Father. Will you be travelling with us?"
"Yes, your Mother has asked for me to assess Jim's condition. She seems to be of the suspicion that something must have not gone as planned during the dissolving of your bond."
"I do not understand."
T'Pau inclined her head. "Every breaking of a bond includes a fair amount of risks, Spock. Yours was no exception."
The way back home was a particularly long one. Spock dug his nails into the seats of the hover-car and practically bolted into the house as soon as the vehicle had stopped.
Mother was sitting on the lowest step of the staircase. Her eyes were red from crying and her lips quivered marginally. Spock knelt down in front of her. "Mother? Where is Jim?"
"Upstairs in his room, darling. Leonard is with him," she whispered.
Spock clenched his hands into fists and sprinted up the steps.
Leonard McCoy was sitting in a chair beside Jim's bed. One of his hands was wrapped around Jim's wrist, holding it tightly. His hair was mussed and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and there were wet stains on the front of the dark-blue material.
"We had to cool him off somehow," Spock was startled when the man started speaking quietly. "His fever was getting too close to the point of causing brain damage. We tried a cold bath and it eventually went down. But he won't wake up. It's like he's locked in his own head."
McCoy turned his head to look at Spock, his eyes shone with extra moisture and Spock was taken aback. Then again, Jim and McCoy had gotten very close. Maybe even fell in love.
The man stood and gestured for Spock to take his vacated seat. "Keep an eye on him. I assume ya took Lady T'Pau with ya? Good. I'm going downstairs and give her the blurb of what happened."
Spock stepped aside to let McCoy through and hesitantly made his way to Jim's bed.
Jim was lying flat on his back, his face turned towards the chair. His arm, the one that had not been held captive by McCoy's hand, was draped loosely across his stomach. The usually tanned face was ashen and covered in cold sweat. Jim's rosy mouth was now pale and dry, cracking in some places.
A faint tremor shook the fragile body and Spock sank down on the edge of the bed to place a hand against Jim's cheek. It was cold.
Through their contact he could feel a sticky mix of fear, pain and longing filter into Spock's brain. Once more he wished that the bond was still intact. He should be with Jim.
Instead he was sitting uselessly beside him, unable to reach out to wherever Jim was at the moment. He wanted to dive back into Jim's vibrant mind and curl up around him until he was healthy again.
The problem behind that particular temptation was that every meld-like contact with Jim would most likely result in another bond.
That was why Father had insisted that they had to be separated until he was bonded to T'Pring.
Jim's breathing hitched and a soft, raspy sound escaped his throat. Spock closed his eyes and then stood when the door behind him hissed open.
T'Pau strode into the room, her gaze trained on Jim's motionless body. "Move aside, Spock, I shall see if the dissolving of your bond has caused James' illness."
Spock reluctantly drew himself into the corner of the room. T'Pau sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, reached out to place her fingers onto Jim's meld-points and finally closed her eyes. Spock felt dread rise up in his chest when her face started to become paler and paler by the second.
Upon ending the meld, she drew her hand away, only to brush it through Jim's hair slowly. It was a very odd gesture for her, too gentle, too human. It made something inside of Spock clench painfully.
"Were you able to find out what is wrong with Jim?" Spock inquired.
"Indeed I have."
Spock was tempted to release and impatient huff. "What is it then?"
"When I broke the bond between you, you saw it fall away from you, did you not?"
"Yes," Spock felt his sternum give a twinge of phantom pain.
"Jim's side of the bond did not. He has latched onto the remnants of it and by refusing to let them go, kept them to literally poison his mind. A broken bond, especially one that has been as strong as yours, can be compared to an open wound. If left unattended it becomes infected and poisons the mind. Jim's mindscape is already falling apart; I was unable to reach him without causing harm to both Jim and myself."
"Can you do nothing-?"
"No. Spock, the reason why I wanted to wait two weeks until I broke the bond, was that I had a suspicion that there was more to your connection."
"I... do not understand."
"When I assessed your minds I was astonished by the compatibility. I have never seen anything like it," she faltered for a moment, her hand stilling on top of Jim's head. "Spock, have you heard the word 't'hy'la' before?"
"I have, but I was told it was a mere legend among the warriors in pre-Surakian times."
"There have been cases, but they were before my time. It is not merely a legend, Spock, but a forgotten fact. My suspicion that you were t'hy'la were dwarfed however when your Father told me that you had agreed to break the bond. Now I see that I should have refused to do so."
"What are you saying?"
"You were both not willing to break the bond. But whereas you could let go of it, because you did not want to be reminded of Jim after it was gone in fear of being hurt, Jim wanted to keep a part of it to hold on to."
Spock furrowed his brows. "Why would he do this?"
T'Pau lifted an eyebrow and shook her head. "You are very much like your Father. Intelligent but obtuse."
Spock did not know if he should feel insulted or take it as a compliment. "What will happen to Jim? This is a curable affliction, is it not?"
T'Pau lowered her head. "No, Spock. I believe he will leave this world within the next 3.7 hours."
Spock felt as if he had been drenched in ice-cold water. "Are... are you certain?"
She nodded and finally stood, facing him. "I grieve with thee, Spock."
Spock was unable to answer and barely realised it when T'Pau left. His legs carried him back towards the bed, where his knees buckled almost instantly. Reaching out to take Jim's hand, he noticed that they had taken on an almost waxen appearance; the nail bed was painted a sickening blue and the red of the blanket that covered Jim contrasted sharply with his pale complexion.
"You will stay with me. Right, Spock?"
"Of course, Jim. With you... I am complete."
"Aw, you're so cute."
Spock laid his head onto the mattress. He pulled the small hand he had taken into his own closer to flutter small kisses across the cold knuckles.
"Jim, I am sorry...," he whispered against the icy skin. "I did not wish for this to happen."
The door behind him hissed open and his Mother stumbled inside. "Spock, tell me it's not true!"
He raised his head to look at her. She was shaking, chest heaving in dry sobs.
"Mother..."
"No," the word was a choked murmur; it barely even seemed to cause her vocal-folds to vibrate. "He can't... Spock..."
"I apologise."
Mother shook her head and stumbled across to room to fall down beside him, wrapping her slender arms around him tightly. "No, no, Spock. I... I wasn't... I would never blame you. Nobody could have known this would happen."
"It was my fault, Mother. Jim is not a telepath, he could not protect himself against the bonding and-"
"Spock! You both did not know. T'Pau said it was neither yours nor Jim's fault. Your minds simply recognised one another and the rest is history. What happens now is... is simply the consequence of a huge misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?"
"Spock... have you never noticed how Jim looks at you?"
"Mother...?"
"You love him, don't you? And you thought he did not return your feelings. That's the reason why you wanted to break the bond."
Spock furrowed his brows. "Jim does not love me, Mother. It was only logical to free Jim of the bond."
"That is where you are wrong, Spock," her embrace got marginally tighter. "He does love you."
"No. I believe he is in love with McCoy."
"Spock... is that what happened eight days ago? You had a fight about him leaving in the morning...?"
"He made it very clear that the bond was a temporary, unwanted construct-"
She shook her head, interrupting him sharply. "Have you ever thought that he felt like that too? Like you did not love him and he had to set you free?"
Spock froze and slowly squeezed his eyes shut. It could not be true.
He detangled himself from her arms and unsteadily got to his feet. "I... I need to be alone. Excuse me."
As he turned towards the door, he saw Father standing by the wall. He let Spock pass, as if he knew that it would be useless to try and speak to him now.
Spock stumbled out into the hall, running past McCoy, whom was sitting on the couch in the living-room, and out of the house.
The garden was quiet. Serene in the face of the dying man lying within the house it surrounded.
Spock shuddered as he breathed in the fresh air. It was heavy with the smell of blooming dbalillies, the chocolate-scent clogging his brain and soothing across the whirling storm of thoughts. He barely noticed that he had automatically returned to their secret place by the pond.
Spock remembered the day it had become their place. Jim had just turned six and had insisted that they were to go on an adventure. Of course, it was not much of an adventure, considering that they were merely running through Mother's garden, pretending that there was a pride of le-matya after them.
Jim had literally stumbled upon the forgotten pond in the back of the garden. He had tripped over a root and fallen into the clearing. Spock had hurried after him, intend on tending to any scrape Jim may have had received, but instead was taken aback by the beauty that suddenly surrounded them. Jim had then declared the place as their hide-out.
Spock sank down into the grass by the pond. It was eerily quiet without Jim's constant talking about everything and nothing. Without his laughter, after he had accidentally slipped on the small sliver of mud surrounding the pond once again. Without his slow, quiet breathing whenever he was about to fall asleep right where he lay.
Spock suddenly realised that he would never have the chance to have nonsensical conversations with Jim again. He would never see Jim's smile again. Never hear him laugh again. Never simply have him sit down beside him, quietly and comfortably, because there were no words necessary between them.
Spock felt his shields crumble and his shoulders slumped in despair.
"Hey."
He actually flinched at the unexpected voice addressing him. McCoy was standing in front of him. "How did you find me?"
"Jim told me about this place. Said it's your... special place," McCoy sat down about 3.2 feet away from Spock.
Spock felt mildly betrayed by Jim. Had he not said that it was their secret? That no one should ever know of it?
"Should you not be with Jim?"
"Shouldn't you be?"
Spock frowned. "I am unsure that Jim would appreciate my presence if he was conscious."
McCoy scoffed. "Yer best friend is dying and you're too much of a coward to sit beside him? And to think Jim fell in love with a moron like you."
Spock blinked. "Jim is not in love with me."
"Fucking hell. I knew ya hobgoblins were a bunch of emotionally stunted retards, but this is really takin' the cake. Jim loves you. When he came to me eight days ago he was practically having a breakdown because he didn't want to break the bond, but knew he had to. He was so sure ya didn't love him back."
Spock's head was reeling. "Why did he not tell me... how did I not notice...?"
"Because you are an emotionally stunted retard. Just like Jim and the rest of the population of this goddamn oven that you call planet."
Spock was on his feet in an instant. "If what you say is true, then I just condemned Jim to an early death."
"Ya didn't do anythin'. It's like Romeo and Juliet. A huge misunderstanding on both parts leads to a freakin' suicide. Only this ain't Jim faking death and you're not committing suicide by drinking some lame-ass poison. But it's still a misunderstanding that caused this mess and Jim will be dead in the end."
Spock closed his eyes and sat back down heavily. "He is dying and it is my fault."
"It's not. Sure, if ya didn't have that huge fight the bond would have been broken later, maybe ya would have realised that ya feelings were reciprocated, who knows? But it was Jim's decision to leave the house without telling you. He knew ya would be angry, he did it anyway. It was also Jim that decided to hold onto the bond instead of letting go. There is simply no one to blame, because ya maybe a telepath, but certainly not a clairvoyant."
Spock nodded hesitantly. "I believe you are correct."
"I know. Now get yer ass back inside and go to Jim. Everyone else has said goodbye already."
He stood, numb and bereft of any emotion.
The house was quiet when he arrived. His Mother sat in the kitchen, a cup of tea steaming in front of her as she cried silently. Father was holding her hand, his face relaxed and for the first time in Spock's life, he could see sorrow in those black eyes that normally betrayed neither thought nor feeling.
Spock did not alarm them to his presence.
The staircase seemed to contain more steps that usual and when he finally reached Jim's door, he hesitated. It slid open without his consent however.
Spock stepped into the room warily. A second later he scrambled over to Jim's bed and crawled on top of the mattress to curl around the limb body. He wrapped his arms tightly around Jim's waist and buried his face in the blond locks on top of the younger man's head. Only now did he realise that Jim's hair did not smell of his own shampoo but of Spock's.
The hot prickle of tears surprised Spock and he shut his eyes tightly against the humiliating display of emotion.
He had been so blind.
Jim breathed a soft, raspy sigh against his throat. Spock ran his palm up and down the thin back. He was unnerved by how much thinner Jim had gotten.
Spock bit his lip and felt the first droplets drip from his eyes. They trickled down his cheeks and into Jim's hair. He placed a hand against Jim's chest, feeling his heart beat weakly against his fingers, slow and unsteady.
Spock sniffled and pressed a trembling kiss to Jim's hair. "Forgive me."
He raised a hand to place his fingers against Jim's meld-points.
If Jim was to die, he would not do so alone while caged in his own, crumbling mindscape.
I hope I didn't make Spock too un-Spock-y. If I did... well...*shrugs* *huddles back into the blanket and sips tea*