A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: There are mentions of rape in this chapter. I'm sorry for taking so long to get this out, but gaps of this length and possibly more are simply going to happen because, as much as I adore writing this, some content is exceedingly difficult for me to get through, and I'm having a lot of struggles right now with my mental health. I've had to go to a Crisis Unit since I last posted, been on eight different medications, and am soon going to be on a couple more to try and get me to a point where I can sleep at night. However, I have the next two chapters written up, and will be posting them over the next few weeks. No promises as to being posted on schedule, that depends largely on my sleeping schedule and mental state, but ideally they'll be put out in a timely fashion. Thank you all for your support in this fic!
Spock sat next to Jim and looked at him, slight trepidation running through their bond as he softly said, "Jim? Did you mean what you said to Miri?"
Jim smiled up at him and extended a hand to lay it over Spock's. "Eventually, yes, I would love to raise a child with you, whether we have to use a surrogate or if we decide to adopt."
Spock flushed lightly – his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning the most adorable light green – and Jim sat up, sliding closer and pressing his mouth to Spock's ear and trailing his lips down the edge, earning himself a soft hiss of encouragement. He smirked, before scooting in front of Spock and tangling his fingers in that oh-so-tidy haircut, mussing it up as he slid his lips against his t'hy'la's. It was cool, but hot, tingles spreading through him as he coaxed Spock's mouth open with his tongue. His partner opened eagerly and Jim was the one hissing this time as a dextrous tongue – Spock could probably tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue just like Jim could and fuck but that was sexy as hell – tangled with his, and slender fingers slid into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp.
The Captain of the Enterprise basked in the warmth and adoration and lust thrumming through their strengthening bond, and thought that this was the best thing to ever happen to him as he finally pulled away from the kiss, panting softly and resting his forehead against Spock's.
Spock brushed his meld points and filled him with his emotion, both of them practically marinating in the shared, familiar emotions. They soaked in each other's love, deep and fathomless, a bond that neither of them had really ever expected to be able to experience; Spock because he was one-of-a-kind and an outcast, Jim because he was too traumatised to let most people in.
"Thank you for letting me in, Jim. My taluhk Jim."
Fuck, why was being called "precious" such a beautiful thing? It nearly made him cry and he felt the sensation of a mental kiss as he clung to Spock and they slowly exited their combined minds as they returned to their physical forms, Jim's cornflower eyes shining with happiness. He took a minute to compose himself before commenting casually, "So… you'll never guess what happened earlier."
Spock raised an elegant eyebrow and wryly asked, "Did Janice Rand congratulate you on your relationship with me? It certainly was a shock to have her do so with me, I wonder how she found out?"
Jim pouted and grumbled, "Fine, ruin my fun. And yes, she did. I think we need to finally come clean to our other best friends about the relationship."
Spock nodded and Jim smiled softly, sending elation and love through to him, before Spock quietly asked, "Did you need to talk about the latest mission, Jim?"
He winced; yeah, probably, but… was he ready for it? "I… I don't know if I can, yet…"
Spock kissed him sweetly, fingers caressing his, as he stated softly, "Take as much time as you need, k'diwa. I will not hold it against you."
That reassurance made Jim smile and he slid into Spock's lap, resting against the Vulcan's firm chest as strong arms wrapped around his torso.
He could tell Spock in his own time.
It was a slaughterfest. Executioners gunning down hundreds of innocent men, women, and children as they gathered in the square, and Jimmy and Tommy ran out, grabbing as many children as they could manage to grab and hustling them away to a safer area. They hid out in a series of caves along the beach that Jim had discovered the year before when he was exploring the area.
The first one to die was a toddler, a three year old little girl who had seen her parents gunned down and refused to eat. Her name was Jessie.
Jim swore to remember every name.
Kennet was next, he was older than most of them – sixteen to Jim's twelve – and he ran off and the executioners got him.
The executioners caught Jim a few times, but he was old enough to know how to trade favours and even though he hated it – it hurt and he was just a kid, he knew he shouldn't have to be doing this – it kept them in food.
Four more had starved to death before Jim traded his virginity for their first surplus of food. Hiro and Yuna, a pair of twin seven year olds; Gwen, who was ten; and Fiore, who was two.
Right now he was running, leading Kodos' men away from their hiding place, getting shot at – duck, roll, dash – and killing, and knowing that ultimately he would be caught and tortured (again), that he would have to find a way to escape (again), and that he would then have to bribe the nearest outpost as soon as he was out, because he couldn't risk getting the food he'd first stolen.
He was so, so, tired.
Jim shot up, a tortured scream on his lips but not escaping his mouth as the nightmare – again, again, fuck this shit – slid into his third time being tortured on Tarsus, and his door opened like it always did ever since his relationship with Spock had become an actual relationship. The Vulcan could sense his nightmares.
He shuddered, and a cool body slid into his bed, wrapping arms tightly about him, stroking his hair, murmuring nonsense into his ear until he was calmer. "Taluhk, do you think that instead of telling me, you could show me?"
Jim paused at that, clutching at Spock's chest as he hummed a little shakily. It wasn't as if he needed to hash it out immediately. He had Ilena for that. Spock didn't have nightmares, and this way… This way when he did decide it was time to talk, Spock would already know.
The blonde nodded against his partner's chest. Yeah that was a great idea and besides, Spock likely already knew very much because of the nightmares leaking through. "Okay." he whispered softly against his k'diwa's chest.
Spock lifted his head up for a sweet kiss and he whimpered into the mouth attached to his, before Spock pulled away and caressed his meld points, gently easing into Jim's mind and Jim let go.
Jim was twelve and coming home only to see bodies littering the streets. Bile rose, and he threw up right in the middle of the road, screaming and sobbing out his rage and his pain.
He was twelve and just became a murderer, all for the sake of some food to feed his kids.
Jim was thirteen, just barely, and he had just lost his virginity in the worst, most brutal way possible; he headed back to his (hopefully temporary – didn't Starfleet have to get here eventually?) home, limping, bleeding, beaten.
Three kids died in the first week.
Four in the second.
Six in the third.
Nine in the fourth.
And then – Rescue. He almost murdered them where they stood before they proved to him that they were there to help.
It was too late for most of the kids though. Jim remembered their names, every last one.
Jessie, age three. Kennet, age sixteen, the oldest of them. Hiro, age seven. Yuna, age seven. Gwen, age ten. Fiore, age two. Helen, age five. Jonathan, age nine. Vivian, age three. Leah, age five. Nathan, age ten. Donna, age eleven. Frank, age twelve. Charlie, age ten. Carrie, age nine. Hussein, age seven. Bill, age eleven. Xenia, age nine. Sarah, age two. Keith, age four. Colin, age ten. Gary, age five.
He still hadn't forgiven Starfleet for taking so long.
Spock gently soothed him through each memory, watching silently, letting his emotions of remorse, comfort, love, acceptance, do the speaking for him. He never judged, he never blamed. He just accepted.
Jim spent the rest of the night encased in strong arms, cradled against a cool body, with comfort murmuring into his mind. He could sleep without fear of more nightmares now.
He could rest, knowing that his k'diwa knew everything and still loved him as much as he had before he knew. He could sleep, words of love being whispered through their bond.