Chapter 2: Hollow

Disclaimer: I own a Star Trek bear from Build-A-Bear, does that count? Still no? Then I still don't own Star Trek or our favorite boys would be a thing.

I still do not have a beta so all mistakes are mine.

WARNINGS: Implied drinking. Implied consensual sex between adult males. Implied cheating on a spouse.

Edit 12/22/16: I have a beta and she is awesome.

If the person you needed most was also the one that couldn't help you what could you do but give up? That was what was going through Kirk's mind as he stared at the drink in his hands. He had tried so many times. So many that he lost count. He was tired. He needed help but knew he couldn't tell anyone. Not after everything that has happened. His eyes shot up to the door as it automatically opened revealing the tall male that was his everything.

"Spock?" Kirk's voice came out in a hushed whisper. His eyes rimmed red. The corner of his lips curled up with painstaking effort. 'Spock?' he tried along the bond. Silence, cold, a hollow pit so large it felt like Kirk was drowning in it.

Spock glanced down at the cup in Kirk's hands. His eyebrow raised as he took in the strong aroma of the alcohol. The look as close to disapproving as Spock ever got. The slight change in the way he shifted his weight and the set of his mouth screamed disapproval if you knew what to look for and Kirk had learned over the years every tick his bondmate had. Without a word Spock walked passed his former captain down the hall. Kirk hoped that his Vulcan would turn right. He held his breath waiting. That hope crumbled into ash as Spock turned left and entered the guest room.

Staring at the glass that he had not touched Kirk realized that it had been foolish to pour it in the first place. Foolish and irresponsible. He swallowed hard a few time before standing and going to the sink. He dumped the glass out and set it on the counter. He would wash it in a moment. Kirk's hands shook as he gripped the side of the sink. How could he have been so stupid? He no longer drank. Not since that night. He wasn't that man anymore but he had wanted to simply hold the glass of liquor in his hands. To maybe help in some way.

The smell of it alone made his stomach roll. Jim doubted he could ever drink another glass of alcohol in his life. Spock didn't know that. He would never know that because they were not talking. He wanted his ashayam back. Even if it was to yell at him or throw things. Just something other than this. He would give anything to go back in time and changed nearly everything that has happened in the last five months. He would give anything for Selek to be alive. He missed that man. Maybe he could have helped them get through this. Maybe he could have smacked their heads together and told them to grow up instead of being children. Maybe…he wouldn't feel so empty if he had someone to tell.

After several long breaths that he held and released, the pain in his throat eased. He took the glass back in hand. The smell not as strong but it still made him ill to breath it in. He should just pour out all of the liquor he had around the house. His hand stopped as he reached for the tap. No he couldn't do that. A lot of those were old and besides… He let out a long breath and turned the water on, washing the cup until it was beyond the point of clean. Jim dried it for a full two minutes before he gave up stalling and put the cup away.

Slowly he walked to the room that had become Spock's. He rapped lightly and when no answer came he wasn't surprised. "Spock…? I know…we can't keep going like this. I know you won't speak to me…" He laid his head on the door. After a moment in which what was left of his heart broke into even smaller pieces he thumped his head against it hard. "Please Spock…don't give up on us. Let's get help…please?" Again no reply came. His hands balled into fists wishing that what he touched wasn't the cold wood of the door but the cool flesh of his bondmate. After a long moment he pushed away from the door and turned to go to his room. He hated that phrase. His room, but it had been just his for months now.

Unknown to the human the Vulcan stood on the other side of the door, lightly placing his fingers where he knew Jim's had been. His brows furrowed as he stared at the simple barrier that felt like it was the physical embodiment of the divide that stood between them for the last several months. He should have answered his bondmate. This hollow feeling was eating away at him. It was eating away at both of them.

Spock stood there for a long moment wishing Jim would come back. He wished he would leave. He wished he was strong enough to leave his human. Jim was right they needed help. They couldn't keep on like this. The hollow feeling was growing and soon one of them would snap. Spock almost had that night when Jim came home reeking of another. He had never felt so much pain as he had that night. No there were other times but that had been just as bad. He didn't want to think of that either.

The Vulcan knew that they were almost to the point where they couldn't go back. Maybe they had passed that point. Maybe they still had a chance. The variables were just too much. He knew what his heart wanted but knew it was illogical. They could not turn back the hand of time. If he could he would turn them back to before they had gotten together. It would have saved them so much pain.

Would it be worth it? It would take away the pain they were feeling but it would take everything else too. He would have never kissed Jim. Spock would have never heard the words 'I love you' slip out of Jim's mouth for the first time. He would never hear Jim whisper the Vulcan word ashayam. The blush that slowly crept up on Jim's face as the then captain looked up at him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he waited for a response. A full 11.32 seconds had passed in which Jim had regretted saying the word thinking he had spoken it wrong.

Spock had quickly rectified he error and kissed the male senseless. When Jim had told him he had practiced the word for weeks to make sure it was right he felt his heart skip a beat. If he turned back the clock he would miss the way they had laughed, cuddled up together as they went over Vulcan vocabulary. Jim had butchered every word they tired but they kept trying. Jim had been improving before all of this. He would miss the time they had sat together for hours just listening to each other's breathing. Neither able to sleep as they came down from the glow of their first time together.

If Spock turned back time he would give that all up. He couldn't do that. He cherished those moments no matter how much it hurt right now. The Vulcan opened the door and made his way down the hall. His footsteps not making a sound. The sound of breathing was audible from where he stood outside of Jim's door. The way his stomach squeezed and twisted he knew without a shadow of a doubt he hated that this had become Jim's room. The breathing was shallow but not quite to the point of sleep. His bondmate was still awake.

"…If you wish it then we will seek help…Jim." Spock did not bother to knock. Too afraid that the person on the other side would reject him again. Was it even his right to call Jim by his first name? After everything that had happened? He heard shuffling of blankets before there were soft footsteps that lead to the door. He could hear the heart beat on the other side. Just like moments ago they stood on other sides of a divide. The sound of Jim leaning on the door made him hope for the first time in five months.

He waited two minutes before there came a response. It was light and even to his ears it was hard to pick up. "Thank you…Spock." It was not the ashayam that he craved. It would work though. He had lost the right to being called beloved.

After another painful four minutes that he was sure Jim would have gone back to bed he laid his hand on the door. "Good night Jim. We will talk about this in the morning."

"…Good night Spock." He heard the soft footsteps go away from the door and he knew Jim was in bed.

He turned away from the door and went back to the guest room. They had said fifty-six words to each other tonight. That was more than they had spoken in five months. The hollow feeling that was eating at them eased just a little.