A/N: Sorry about the late update. I was manic as fuck the night before last and didn't sleep at all so I decided not to post when I wouldn't be able to check things over properly for mistakes.
Calm. Calm. Calm. Spock had to stay calm, and he had to have faith in his Captain and best friend. Jim had told him that he would listen to anything Spock wished to talk about, and he was finally composed enough that he could speak about how badly the contamination from Psi 2000 had affected him. "You were right about my contact with Sulu, Jim. It did contaminate me, and the effects, which were initially somewhat mild, became overpowering and severe while I had the conn."
Spock gripped the arms of the Command chair, briefly closing his eyes and ignoring that his knuckles were white as his body lightly trembled. He had never told his mother he loved her. She died, murdered by Nero, never having heard her son tell her how important she was to him, how much he loved and adored her. Vulcan was gone, destroyed, and his entire life had been turned upside down in moments. He was almost a murderer and still had not asked for Jim's forgiveness, which was terrible of him because Jim was his best friend and deserved so much better than Spock. He ignored the whisper that wondered why Jim meant so much to him, why his Captain affected him so deeply. He could think on that later. He had to stay in control. He had to hold out. He would not let this overcome him. It was a good thing that Jim had upset his world view or he would have been long overwhelmed by the ferocity of his emotions.
Spock was jerked out of the memory when Jim barely brushed his fingers over Spock's wrist, his emotions curious and slightly worried. Spock swallowed and nodded, "My apologies. I had a flashback. It was… unpleasant. Before I say anything about it, however, I need to thank you. I am unbelievably, deeply grateful and indebted to you, Jim, for convincing me that I could find a balance between human and Vulcan. Without the level of control I now have I would have succumbed to my emotions and been a "wreck", as you would say."
Jim blinked and flashed him a gorgeous smile, one filled with warmth and happiness and something else that Spock didn't want to inspect more closely right now. Damn, but that smile was vicious on his control. Think about that later. Get it out. You can trust him with this. "I'm glad that it helped you, Spock, and I know it must have been difficult for you, which also means I am beyond proud of you for holding up under the pressure."
Spock almost-smiled at his Captain, his eyes filling with warmth as he murmured, "Thank you, Jim."
They lapsed into silence for a few moments, Jim waiting as Spock gathered himself again, before speaking slowly and softly. "At first… it was just strengthening emotions. I found something more humorous than I normally would have experienced it to be, and then I began to sense despair, followed a short time later by horror, and finally topped off with grief and regret. It… It was worse," he admitted, "than what I was experiencing right after the destruction of Vulcan. I… I never once told my mother that I loved her. She died, never having heard the words "I love you" coming from her son. She-"
He choked on a sob and took in a breath, not allowing another one, firmly suppressing his emotions. "She died, never knowing how much I loved her, adored her, needed her. All my life, she supported me, supported my decisions, and never tried to force me into any sort of mould, either human or Vulcan. I do believe she would approve of the insight you gave me, but she will never, ever get the chance to see the effects of it."
When he looked up, the sadness and sympathy in Jim's eyes was too much for him to see and keep his composure – what little he had left, anyway. He closed his eyes. He wasn't done, but this part was confessed. Now it was just waiting for a response. It didn't come immediately, which was reassuring – Jim was actually considering this before he said something. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as Spock's had been during his confession. "Spock, I don't know what it's like to have a loving biological mother, but I can promise you that I do understand this. My aunt on Tarsus IV… She was completely blatant in expressing love, comfort, and support towards me, despite having never met me before then. I never – I wasn't used to it. I didn't trust it at first. Finally I realised she did love me, and I began to trust in her and began to love her back. But I never told her. Never thanked her.
"She knew, though. They always do. Unless you really, honestly don't like your parent and vocally display it, your parent will always know that you love them, even if you never tell them. I never met your mother, but I know she was human, and I know – just. I could tell how much you loved her when you got back and she was gone. It was all over your face, Spock. Trust me. She knew you loved her."
It was exactly what he needed to hear, and Jim had not-so-casually clasped Spock's wrist when he began speaking, allowing Spock to feel his reaction, to feel his regret, grief, understanding, conviction. It was strange, how much he appreciated the touch of his Captain when he couldn't bear for anyone else – not even Nyota any more – to touch him. Jim took his hand back after a moment, and Spock felt oddly bereft by the lack of his best friend's comforting emotions flowing into him. Jim seemed to read that and raised an eyebrow, "You aren't upset?"
Spock shook his head, "No, Jim. It… helps. I trust you, but humans in general are more prone to saying comforting things even if they do not mean them, and when you let me feel as you do, it is a firm reassurance that I can trust you not to lie to me. You are the first person I have met whose touch I completely welcome, because your etiquette is exquisite. You only ever use your touch to back up your words or communicate something to me that cannot be spoken aloud."
The smile he was gifted with bloomed slowly, and was sweet and endearing. He ignored the feeling – he had already resolved to look at those unusual emotions and sort them out, but not yet. Not right now. "Is there anything else, then, that you wanted to tell me, Spock?"
Spock nodded, "I… have been remiss. You have apologised to me for provoking me during the Nero incident, but I had not apologised to you for nearly choking you to death. I regret my actions, although not the situation that followed them. I was unfit for command, and you were a far better acting Captain than I could have been."
Jim's hand was resting atop his own this time, not on his wrist, as he forcefully stated, "I forgave you as soon as it was over, Spock."
That was all he had to say, but his emotions were speaking loud and clear; forgiveness, acceptance, and fondness. It took his breath away, before he managed to say, "Thank you, Jim. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Spock." Jim removed his hand again and they resumed their game, but Spock was distracted by curious thoughts. He needed to think about what Jim had become to him.