2.01 All the Ways We Could Die

The moment when his shirt went to shreds was the moment when Jim thought of broken bones, of fractured ribs and all the ways he could have died under the onslaught of Spock's strong hands but he just didn't care for those thoughts because warm bare chest was pressed against his and he was ready to pay any price to have more of him but then the withdrawal began.

Suddenly, cold air was between them as Spock broke their kiss to look at him. The stream of warm images of the imminent collision was replaced by a cautious stare that brought fear to Jim. Spock started to think again if he starts to think he'll withdraw again like countless times before when Jim would maneuverer them near giving the opportunity to Spock to make a move which he never did.

Jim always expected Spock to take command and charge. To remove that obstacle of rank that made Jim hesitate. It seemed only right because Spock was the one who always knew what should be done, what was logical. It was only logical for the two of them to stop circling each other and give in to the pull, be it for a brief time or for a longer haul. To stop the frustration of the proximity from building up to this unbearable pressure in Jim's chest that never seemed to ease up.

"No, Spock," Jim tried to stop Spock by grabbing his hand.

As soon as their palms touched, the stream of pleasant images continued. The depth of Spock's desire was like a shock wave Jim wanted to drown in but then Bones chimed in and ruined it all like only he knows how. Before he could think of a way to dissuade Bones from barging in here, Spock was already at the door running away.

The short glimpse of Spock's strong back lit by the light on the corridor was shut off by the buzz of the door and Jim was left there as nothing happened. Short-breathed and exhausted he could have hallucinated the whole ordeal if only there weren't traces of their torn shirts scattered all around.

As his blood pressure subsided, Jim could feel how his skin will start to bruise soon. He could feel the buzz where he was pressed in. Now was the moment when he could ask Bones to mend his bruises blaming them on the ritual he underwent on the ground but if Bones lingers for too long he will notice blue pieces of fabric among the yellow ones.

Quickly, he gathered the fabric from the floor pushing it under the cover. He managed to pull the blanket to his throat just as the door opened.

"Damn it, Spock," Bones grumbled from the door but then paused looking around the dark empty cabin. "The green goblin," Bones continued in a lower voice grumbling. "I wouldn't expect of him to leave you unattended in that state. If anything, I would expect him to hover around trying to correct me like I'm the uneducated one."

Jim could hear Bones kneeling beside his side. He tried to make his breathing uneven but Bones had his treacherous devices to tell him everything. Nevertheless, Jim refused to open his eyes. If he would be examined too closely, he feared Bones would see through him. Worse than that, he didn't trust himself not to cry if he sees compassion in Bones' eyes.

"I guess it drained you, your charts are all scrambled like you ran a mile, man," Bones whispered grumpily. "No matter, you need this cocktail to make you function in the morning without falling flat on your face. Blood sacrifice, why do you always let them smack you around. I don't approve of the cold green bastard but he wouldn't have let you do that to yourself."

The syringe came and Jim squirmed without opening his eyes.

"Sleep will do you some good," Bones patted Jim's side causing him pain but Jim squeezed his jaw not to make a sound.

When the door closed, Jim opened his eyes not sure how he should feel right now. On some level, he was glad that he finally tried. To try was always better than not to know.

He tried and found out that he wasn't wrong. He wasn't imagining things when he would catch Spock observing him in a certain way. He wasn't exaggerating when their hands would touch and he would linger in the contact wishing to draw Spock near.

On another level, he was terrified of the morning. How will Spock act in the morning? Will he act as nothing had happened? Will he become unreadable and distant? Will he accuse Jim of molesting him? Will he leave?

It felt like he won't sleep at all but Bones' medicine caught up with him and soon he was sleeping. In his dreams, he was awarded with the sight of Spock but unlike before he was distant and hard to catch. It was as he was running away from him. That was wrong, Spock was usually running after him trying to stop any disaster Jim could bring upon him.

Without Spock behind his back, Jim felt unsafe so he kept pursuing Spock wherever he went.

In the morning, Jim opened his eyes feeling sore all over and tired beyond measure. For a brief moment, he thought about how he dreamt the whole ordeal. Then he moved and lifted his cover to find the confetti of blue and yellow fabric all over his bed. His chest was bare and the bruising over his ribs started to shape Spock's large hands.

"Jim, you damn fool," he whispered as he slowly sat up. "If you had any brains at all, you would have dropped your communicator and barricaded the door."

He collected the shreds of their shirts to throw into the trash compartment but hesitated before its opening. After some more consideration, he took out a blue ribbon of fabric and put it in his pocket to fidget around with it when his nerves get the best of him.

This will be a long day of standing like his body isn't sore and smiling as nothing had happened. He'll act as nothing changed at all.

Before the mirror, he inspected his bruises noting that there were none below the waist. Even in his agitated state, Spock maintained control but Jim couldn't but wonder how violent could he become if that control slipped completely.

The thought didn't frighten him it only enticed him further like any other thing about his Vulcan friend. Why did he have to be like a box of mystery that hid sweetness inside?

Jim was never the one to pursue men. He tried it when he was younger but found it offensive and intrusive. It wasn't like he trusted men enough to relax around them anyway.

Women were his companions of choice and women were easy to come by for him. He would just have to smile and say anything at all and companionship would be offered, he would be jumped at and dragged into a darkened corner. To get intimacy for Jim was to simply smile at an unsuspecting woman.

Lately, he rarely smiled at unsuspecting women. When he would be entertained enough to smile at them, he would find himself in trouble of getting out of the situation without offending the female in question beyond reason.

Like with that Hellen doctor at the New Year's party. He just made an observation about the stars above the deck to make small talk. Hellen took that as a sign of interest and stalked him for months afterwards. It was hell. It took Spock's intervention to put her off his trail. Spock always knew how to put women off with ease.

Spock knew how to put anyone off with ease. Why didn't he put Jim off? It seemed like everything he did was to draw Jim further in. The jokes, the smiles, the contact, the constant companionship and protection.

With Spock, the fact that he was a man didn't seem like an obstacle at all. With him, it seemed like a plus because Jim trusted him like he trusted no one else. It was like he can lean on him, hide behind him, confide in him and most of all be open with him.

In a strange way, Jim understood Spock better than any of his fellow humans.

His logic was a comforting constant that didn't falter even when it was only in servitude of Spock's hidden emotions and agendas. There was never any malice in Spock's emotions and agendas anyway.

Even these bruises upon Jim's fair skin didn't seem malicious. They were inflicted simply because Spock was stronger than Jim, a miscalculation in pressure.

Jim put his uniform carefully over his skin idly wondering how Spock will deal with this crisis. What logical explanation of their outburst will he find to justify them before the other? Will it be blamed on Jim's lack of judgement or on Spock's lack of understanding of the circumstances? It was entertaining to some degree to watch Spock jump through hoops as he denied anything ever happening between them.

When Jim would get in trouble was the time when Spock would make most of his illogical decision and have the most emotional outbursts but it was always brushed aside as logical and the only course of action. It was endearing somehow how bluntly he refused to acknowledge any signs of humanity on himself when his humanity was the thing that drove him to do most of the things he would do.

Like a prolonged hug after Jim would get out of some trouble. Jim sometimes thought that hug was the main reason he got in so many troubles in the first place.

Jim moved through the corridors without any rush anticipating the moment when their paths will cross. He let Spock decide upon that. He was the one who knew when it was most convenient to start acting as nothing is at odds about the two of them. Just two pals doing the same tasks and accidentally brushing against each other whenever they would be left alone.

That alone time sometimes seemed like it was a reason to slowly go insane. Other times, it seemed life-saving. Like it was the thing that kept Jim on course and afloat.

Without meeting Spock anywhere, Jim finally went to the bridge to sit in his chair.

When he entered, he discovered Spock sitting at his post with his back turned to the door. He didn't glance up for their eyes to meet.

That was the first odd sign. Spock had eyes on his back for Jim. He would always know when he was in the room. Jim would notice from his posture how he knows he's being observed from the back.

Now, his posture was anything but hidden. There was nothing on it that demanded attention.

Jim sat in his chair giving out orders and moving around as he usually did but Spock didn't turn even for a second to look at him.

As the day progressed, it only got worse.

Even when Spock was forced to answer Jim's direct questions, he would look anywhere but at Jim. Their eyes didn't meet even for a second. That was alarming. It was more alarming than the lack of any excuse, banter or a challenge from Spock's side.

All Jim could sense on him was coldness. There was no hidden joy, no glee, no warmth anywhere in sight.

Jim looked over to Uhura to see did the attention went to her but she sat with her back turned to Spock and only a cold efficiency could be seen. Spock didn't rush out to find reassurance in Uhura's arms. That was alright with Jim, the jealousy he felt towards her wasn't lost on him but the coldness from Spock worried him. It now spread in all directions. No one was awarded a glance or a smile, it was like their First Officer was truly a cold and efficient Vulcan with no emotions at all.

That coldness brought fear to Jim's heart. Did he break Spock? Was this damage irreparable?

His fears drove him to cross the line again.

"Spock," he grabbed Spock's lower arm when he managed to catch him alone in the conference room, the grab was necessary because Spock moved to leave as soon as Jim entered. "Won't we talk about this?"

"I see no reason to discuss Vulcan's hidden triggers for losing inhibitors with aliens," Spock said flatly staring at Jim's hand on his arm, Jim refused to submit and let go, he squeezed his arm firmer but no warmth climbed up his skin, only coldness of a thousand winters could be sensed.

"Spock, it's me, not some alien. What inhibitors? What I did was inexcusable. You must forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, Captain, you were injured and susceptible. Vulcan's mind is strong, there's nothing to feel ashamed of. It was just a moment of an ancient Vulcan weakness. Now it passed, I assure you no harm will come to you from me. My reactions are under strict control."

"Come on, Spock, it wasn't just you who went mad in there," Jim stepped a step closer which made Spock step back and take away his arm from Jim's grip with ease.

"Vulcan's don't get mad, Captain, we can't afford ourselves the loss of control. Our superior strength won't allow for it. If you'll excuse me, I have my duties to attend to."

And that was that. Spock strode out of the conference room and that was the last time they were alone in any room for months to come. All glances stopped, all contact was retracted, there were no jokes, no banter, no glances, nothing.

Jim found himself alone, isolated, surrounded by cold strangers with no one to talk to. Even Bones seemed distant since he was always probing trying to get to the bottom of the rift between Spock and Jim. Jim would discuss anything with Bones but never that, never the growing pain in his heart that only amplified every time Spock would coldly hand him the report without making an effort to establish eye contact.

After a few months of that torture, Jim was ready to do anything to make the anxiety and loneliness go away. He was ready to open the air chamber and just walk out but that was unacceptable. If he does something that drastic, it will be like he punished Spock for not wanting him back. That much was obvious. Spock didn't want him at all.

Since the incident, they never went on missions together and Spock didn't seem concerned for Jim's wellbeing at all.

Without a hug to look forward to, without a glance to warm himself on, there was no joy in being Enterprise's Captain. Everything was dull and felt episodic. Like days were repeating themselves in circles that never end.

In that state, he browsed through the data of their next destination. When he saw a position of a vice-admiral open, he just pressed apply automatically. It wasn't like they will consider him, he was a mere ship's captain for a few brief years, still too young for that kind of responsibility, but it was better to try than to wonder. If by some miracle they consider him, it would be an elegant way of escaping this cold hell where winter never ends.

Spock would travel on as a Captain he should have been from the start. Then, in Jim's absence, he might remember that he knows how to smile, that he's allowed to touch people that he's allowed to feel something, anything.

Even in his miserable state, Jim still found himself worrying about Spock, wondering does he eat enough and does he touch anybody ever. Even if he wasn't observed back, Jim's eyes still lingered on Spock's back when he would talk with others but he would never notice him reaching out to grab anyone's shoulder, to make contact of any kind, to grab a wrist, to express concern, nothing of the things he did to Jim daily.

It was worrisome and Jim wanted to flee Spock's vicinity as soon as possible. When he was away he could at least hope that warmth was returned to Spock's cheeks as he smiles at someone else, anyone at all.

It was tiresome to maintain his control at all times but Spock was trained to withstand tiresome duties. His whole life, from his troubled childhood onward, was a training ground for getting a grip on his emotions and keeping that grip firm.

Never before did he have such a need for control as he did nowadays.

It was imperative that he maintains his reserve, that his determination is firmly upheld, that he's detached from everyone. No cracks should be offered because the veil between him and his ancestral urges was now very thin. It was like any contact could crack it spiralling Spock down to Pohn Faar.

Never before did Spock fear that the ancestral savage need for uniting with another would arise in him but now that seemed more than plausible, it seemed imminent.

When that happens, he needs to be near other Vulcans. They were the only ones who could offer him guidance and help to survive the savagery of his Vulcan blood.

Before he had hoped that his Human mother spared him from the savagery hidden deep in the Vulcan genome. The price of their controlled logical minds was the ultimate savagery in matters of intimacy. Humans seemed like a free race governing their impulses with ease compared to the customs of Vulcans which included murder, fights to death and rape impulses that offered no choice to either of their victims.

That was what Vulcans were, they were victims of the ancient drives of mating that shaped their ancient history. It was a shameful secret no outsider knew about them. When they mated, they mated for life and there was nothing free about it.

Their mate would be chosen for them when they were children and then they would just wait for the process to start, for the blood to activate to start the bond of violence and lust that would last a lifetime.

Spock's mate T'Pring was killed with their home planet but if the need arises they would find him a substitute, someone who lost a mate too.

If Spock was reasonable, he would take a shuttle and run back to other Vulcans as soon as he knelt in that shower feeling the veil getting thin but Spock was anything but reasonable.

In the lack of insight into the dangers of courting a Vulcan, Jim tore at the veil bringing the beast in Spock forward, waking up his dormant blood. Now that the beast inside of Spock could scent Jim's flavour, it refused to leave his side. It was like a predator was waiting for Jim to make a move, any move that a worthy pray would make, an excuse to hunt him down.

The violent impulse didn't care if Jim died in the encounter, it wanted to be fed and its food was either death or violent lust. It didn't differentiate between the two. Both death and ravaging meant ultimate possession after which the prey was theirs to own forever.

Spock resisted the urge clinging on to his humanity. The process hasn't started yet, Spock got his control back on time but he came so close to breaking that any exposure to the Captain was dangerous for Spock's control. If the process starts in the mid of their journey, no one would be able to save Spock's life. He would die burning out in the very blood that kept him alive but he would rather die than bring Jim hurt.

Before he regained control, Spock almost broke Jim's ribs in the onslaught of savagery.

Now he felt like anything could trigger the process of mating. That's why he was very careful not to make any contact with anyone at all. Before, he was able to let Uhura near without any danger to his inner demons. Now, he didn't even let her speak to him.

Her fragile form frightened him beyond comprehension. How could he let himself go near her at all? He could break her spine like a twig if he loses his composure even for a moment.

Just thinking of that made him break a pen in his hand. The splinter of it tore into his skin and a treacherous green drop appeared on his thumb.

"Spock, you're injured," Jim jumped coming near.

"Barely a scratch," Spock said with disdain retreating his hand quickly from the oncoming warmth.

Jim's hand lingered in the air emitting warmth before retreating behind his back. Spock made the mistake of glancing up to see how offended Jim was almost making eye contact. He looked down getting up on the opposite side of the Captain to make some room between them.

"You should be more careful," Uhura charged at him but Spock slid sideways to avoid contact.

That offended her enough to turn her head swiftly making her hair swish against his chest. A move that used to make him soften enough to apologize now made him agitated. Why must the two of them stand there like two towers ready to crumble upon him trapping him forever in the darkness?

He ran out of the conference room not caring for how it looks just wanting to make shelter and find his reason again, to repeat teachings and find solace. Emotions of any kind were dangerous. His veil was still too thin to trust it to hold him on the reasonable side of the universe.

In that state of mind, a message reached him.

His older self was dead. He was alone in the universe knowing he will die alone too. Old Spock was direct enough to make him understand how the attachment he had for his version of Jim followed him wherever he went. Spock was determined not to be that, not to be the Vulcan roaming around without a mate because he tied his destiny for a short-lived Human as his father did. Only now, when his mother was gone, could Spock see just how alone in the universe his father was. Whatever he thought of his father, Spock knew his love for his mother was real.

No Vulcan would forsake his heritage, leave his Vulcan mate and marry an alien if the connection he felt with the alien didn't transcend every other connection he ever had.

At that moment, Spock's com chimed and Jim's voice spilt into his room inquiring about his well-being.

Just the sound of his voice made Spock lose his posture and sit on the floor leaning against his bed.

"Everything is alright, Captain, I'll be back on the bridge in a few moments," Spock forced himself to say but he felt anything but alright.

Spock was lost. Stranded on a ship full of strangers. Alone and with no one who would understand the pressing need of his blood and the danger of death that followed it. Jim could possibly understand but that was the danger. If he would start to talk to Jim directly, Spock was sure that he would be unable to finish his story, that before he would explain any sign of intelligence would be gone from him and Jim would be left trapped with an animal there was no arguing against, an animal that wanted to consume and had no other reason besides it.

The image of himself waking up to face Jim dead by Spock's hands was the thing of which his nightmares were made of. No, Spock will avoid that at any cost. This message of older Spock's demise was a blessing in disguise.

He can use it as an excuse to leave. At their first outpost, he will just go and join his people to assume Spock's position without any need to explain himself, without bowing in shame and revealing his inner demons. It will be as he did what was needed. Maybe among them, faced with their cold demeanour, all this lust will be expunged from him and he will be free to be defiant again, to disobey Vulcan ways like he always did.

The drop of Spock's green blood spilt and Jim found himself on the verge of panic. It was such a small event but it seemed significant like something important just happened.

Uhura, Spock and Jim were in the conference room planning the approach to their new station and the communication sequence as the crew rotates on the shore leave. Jim was there to make sure Spock exits on another landing party but it seemed all three of them were there for the same reason, to avoid each other on the ground.

Since none of them was ready to say it directly they turned and twisted the landing schedule just to end up with the one where all three of them were first to exit.

"This way," Jim tried to lessen the tense moment by a poorly set joke, "the three of us should just rent a room together."

Uhura, as expected, glared at him and he missed the moment when the pen broke. In the silence, the cracking sound echoed and Jim looked over to see a drop of blood on Spock's finger. Without a thought, he jumped forward to help but Spock chose to move towards Uhura. Instead of letting her help, Spock fled the room leaving them alone with the landing schedule none of them wanted.

"So," Jim spoke up in the silence that followed his departure. "You two broke up again?"

"I have no patience for your questions," Uhura snapped showing just how upset she was. "I'm sorry, Captain, are we done here?"

"I guess we are," Jim absentmindedly pressed affirmation for the schedule, they are adults, they will be able to avoid each other on the huge station. "You know I am your superior officer, you can come to me if you have any problems. If anyone ever hurt you, I would take your side."

"Hurt me?" Uhura got upset. "Are you suggesting Spock could ever do anything like that? He's the gentlest man I ever met."

"Gentlest…" Jim trailed off thinking of his bruises that took weeks to completely fade. "I mean, of course, he is but he is a strong man, anyone can slip…"

"Not Spock, ever," Uhura went towards the door. "You of all people should know how controlled and well-mannered he is. I wonder why I bother at all."

The door slid behind her retreating back and Jim threw himself in the chair.

Gentlest, of course, with a woman as fragile as Uhura was what else could he be? Still, Jim's recollection showed anything but a gentle and well-mannered man. It showed a beast-like creature with no consideration, not hesitation, just hunger. Jim should have been afraid but instead, he was just frustrated that he didn't get more. What kept Spock so controlled that he returned from the precipice to be his cold self. Colder than ever.

Even when they first met, when they fought over life and death Spock's disdain and anger were hot things that could bend metal. Now there was just frost as passion was never there.

For a brief moment, Jim felt a sense of victory in the fact that Uhura never triggered those deeper emotions buried deep in Spock's half-alien heart but that sense faded quickly to be replaced by a deep sense of sadness

Spock mentioned a trigger and Jim just knew how Spock will do anything to prevent that trigger to be touched ever again. After Jim's departure, will anyone bother to reach in so deeply to stir the forbidden desires? It took years for Jim to be close enough to even try.

"Some things aren't yours to take," he said to himself shaking his head.

If anything, he should feel ashamed that he went between Uhura and Spock but any time he would see them interact all he could do was cringe inwardly because she did everything wrong. Instead of poking him until he unnoticeably smiles, she constantly provoked worry and puzzlement. No wonder Spock never properly grabbed her.

But no, that wasn't the trail of thoughts Jim needed. He needed to detach himself and start a new chapter of his life. The one where all his thoughts won't revolve around Spock and his invisible inner life. Before it was a fun game because Jim could guess Spock's reactions before they would happen but now all reactions dried out and all that was left was a frosty ground you can't get a grip on.

More upsettingly, somewhere deep inside, Jim was sure of it, Spock wasn't joyful at all, he was mourning forcing himself to feel only the sturdy and heavy emotions. Spock could sustain that harshness for the unforeseeable future but Jim wasn't the one to stand in misery and do nothing to change its course.

Then he exited into the huge space of the Federation Station filled with people. He saw Sulu happily hugging his partner and their child. That sight made him feel hollow. He couldn't even find any joy to show when his claim for the vice-admiral place was acknowledged as a valid one.

It felt like cheating, like deserting, like abandoning but he had to save himself and give Spock space to find any kind of joy again.

Then the new mission came and Jim jumped in it without a second thought. His last mission with Spock might provide him with some closure that will help them move on from each other.

Of course, that proved to be anything but true. The mission started with his worst nightmare. His crew was gone and his ship torn to pieces. He was stranded on a planet without any means of escaping not sure where any of his crew members were.

He found Chekov and Scotty but Spock was nowhere to be seen. The terrain of the planet was rough, most of it was hard to scan but Jim remembered the unique beat that Spock's heart had. No one here should have such a heartbeat.

Scotty proved his genius once again and Spock appeared in the transporter room of his old ship that was in ruins. Jim waited in the corridor composing himself but when Spock appeared on the door he surged towards him not caring for his pride. He wanted to crush him from relief but Spock flinched in his arms.

"What's wrong, Spock?" Jim moved away to see the paleness of his face.

The colour shocked him enough to forget his caution and touch his cheek. As soon as he did, the picture exploded in his mind, pain and despair. He withdrew his hand instinctively but before he could say anything Bones appeared on the door.

"He's injured," Jim said to Bones. "Why are you dragging him around? You moved so swiftly that we couldn't beam you aboard. He should rest, not stand. Come on, you must lie down," Jim pulled Spock by his arm.

The way Spock yielded showed just how injured he was.

"I need you," Jim said to him as Spock obediently lay down.

Spock must be badly injured when he's not contradicting him at all. He didn't even resist being laid down. No arguments were made about how he's a superior Vulcan who can withstand any kind of pain. That worried Jim beyond comprehension. All he wanted was to inspect the wound to see the damage but Scotty, Chekov and Bones were looking at him. He needed to resume his command no matter how badly he did it lately.

Spock was here, everything will be alright, they will find a way to solve this riddle, like they always did, together.

As soon as he started walking and talking, Spock got up and resumed their task like a well-tuned team they were. Sometimes, it seemed to Jim that they don't even have to speak the words, that they could hear each other thoughts.

That wasn't uncommon for Spock to do with his Vulcan telepathic abilities but Jim never was able to finish anyone else's sentence. Still, with Spock, it seemed like he could follow the whole train of thoughts with only a few gestures and words to go on.

There was no time to be happy about the two of them talking. The situation was dire. Most of his crewmembers were still missing and they had to find them as soon as possible.

Unable to find and locate them they were stuck but then Spock saved the day because he tagged Uhura with radioactive jewellery. Jim found himself wondering how accidental was the fact that the jewellery could be traced? Maybe it wasn't Spock's fault… no, Jim was sure it wasn't Spock's fault because a strong image of Spock's father came to Jim's mind and with it anger towards him.

Spock's anger in realization how his father always knew the whereabouts of his mother. He tagged her like one would a dog. Spock only gave the necklace to the person he was seeing.

Jim stepped out of that memory feeling like he's being struck by a strong resentment towards Spock. He gave Uhura something of his mother, of his mother that was dead and he only had a few items of hers. That seemed like a meaningful gesture.

Jim never considered Spock's entanglement with Uhura like something significant, sure, it did annoy him but it seemed like a superficial thing he would have with any passing woman. Giving out such a gift seemed like a promise.

There was no time for petty emotions. Spock wasn't his to call out on anything. There were people to save and villains to bring to justice. Those were things Jim was good at. Things where no one had to explain to him what to do next.

As he drove a bike under the rain of shots, Jim was focused and alive. There was no doubt or hesitation. His people will be safe and he will stay until the last of them goes away.

It came as a surprise to him when he managed to survive as well but he had no time to dwell upon it. There was a swarm of robots to defeat and millions of people to save. He was an insignificant dot among those necessities but still, a dot that could turn the tides. It didn't matter what will happen to the dot as long as he succeeds, it wasn't like someone will miss him severely when he would be gone.