"How is he, sir?" Uhura asked the captain, as he left the gym; tired and sweaty. He had worked out late into the night till he was exhausted, pent up with worry and repressed anger.

"Better. Bones is with him. Checks him over." The stern quality to Kirk's voice would have earned him an eye roll from McCoy, but Lieutenant Uhura gave no such response. She continued to look at the captain with fierce concern.

"When will he be back on duty?"

"I don't know." Kirk closed his eyes.

Uhura looked utterly broken. 'Why did you have to bond with him?' her brown eyes asked, looking directly at Kirk. 'Why did you do this to him?'

'He would have died', Kirk wanted to say. 'I had to save him.' But that would have been cowardly, and it would have been (almost) wrong. His motives hadn't been utterly selfless.

"Captain…"

"Yes?"

"I know what Spock looks to the untrained eye. God, help me. I know it. He's all dark eyes, pale skin and feline grace. He's like poetry in motion - at least he used to be."

Kirk said nothing.

"I know all of that…it's just..."

"Was that all, Lieutenant?"

Without waiting for a response, Kirk continued to make his way to his quarters.

"Kirk…"

Kirk stopped but didn't turn around.

"Sometimes you can spend too long on a one sided love."

Kirk woke in the darkness, knowing immediately it was too early for his wake-up call. He blinked, trying to figure out what had alerted him to consciousness, but it became clear in a moment. McCoy was comming him.

"Bones it's 0350, whatever it is, can't it wait until the morning hours?"

"How is he?"

"He's …."

Spock was fast asleep in Kirk's arms, his breathing mildly uneasy and his expression pained. Kirk clung to him, rubbing circles on Spock's back almost unconsciously.

"I've received another dozens of reports. Suicides again.."

"Again?"

"Yes-"

"But it has been more than two years…"

"Three exactly. Next month is the third anniversary of Vulcan's destruction. They still aren't coping and they can't repress their grief forever, soon or later every single one of them has to face their trauma and apparently that doesn't always goes well. Keep an eye on him, okay?"

"Yeah…"

Kirk lay awake until his shift began, counting every single one of Spock's shaky breaths.

"You're hurting."

The Vulcan remained silent but blinked in surprise when one of the Kirk's broad hands - unusual hesitantly - landed on the left side of his face, gently caressing his cheek, ignoring the Vulcan's flinch, and then wandered to his psi point, however referring from touching it. "You're hurting up there. Badly. And maybe…that's more of your Christopher's fault than mine but…I still feel…I …fuck…"

"Sometimes I hate him you know," Kirk said roughly and his voice was breaking on the last word. "I hate him…for leaving you…me…everyone."

"It was …"

"..not his fault? No, no…I suppose it wasn't. He would never leave you…it was Khan who…"

Kirk swallowed.

"He loved you."

Spock stares at him silently, standing in front of him, eyes wide and dark and empty.

"God, he loved you so much and if he could see you right now…If he could see how I…fuck.."

The Vulcan's eyes even remain blank as the captain reached for the his neck to draw him down onto his shoulder. "I didn't want to coerce you into this relationship…I never wanted to hurt you…," he whispered roughly against cool skin, before burying his face in Spock's hair, wrapping an arm around that slim waist and bringing him closer against his own body.

„I never wanted to hurt you…"

The captain's shoulders shook but he did not cry.

Kirk had never wanted to hurt him but in the end he did.

"I'm walking in a dead man's shoes, Bones," Kirk said, leaning against the wall which separated McCoy's office from the area, where the patients were kept. Spock was a little bit better these days, seemed more alert and Kirk could leave him alone for a few hours, so Kirk went for a walk to clear his mind and found himself in sickbay. "He sometimes calls, me Christopher…you know…"

"Shit…"

"Yeah…"

"It's just...there are days when has trouble to recognize me. It's like he's captured in the past and he can't escape. Sometimes I think, he doesn't want to escape.."

McCoy didn't know what to think. For one thing, he was getting very mixed signals. While Spock calling Kirk "Christopher" and his listless state the last few days were more than alarming, Spock did start to eat again - albeit poorly, and he didn't need Kirk's help to dress and shower anymore – at least for now.

But then Spock had always been good at hidding his emotional and physical state. At Pike's funeral Spock had been as aloof as ever. No one had offered him a comforting word. So very few had known about his and Pike's relationship. Spock had stood stiff in the rain, as they had buried his mate's – his husband's - body. He had seemed so indifferent, so unaffected by the funeral. Standing tall and proud. Unmoving like a rock. Only McCoy, standing beside him, had seen the fine tremors running trhough his slim frame, only McCoy had seen the weight loss, which the dark uniform coat tried to hide and the unshed tears in those dark, doe-eyes.

"He keeps zoning out…" Kirk spat, "… he hasn't meditated in months, he flinches whenever I've got my hands on his psi points and he isn't sleeping. Even a Vulcan has to sleep now and then but he doesn't. Not really. He still doesn't sleep through the night. He wakes up screaming, calling for Chris and I can barely calm him down."

"Are you keeping skin to skin contact with him?"

"Yes…," Kirk murmured. „I try to touch him as often as possible…"

"He's still reeling from the blow of Vulcan's destruction and Pike's death. You have to be patient."

"You always say that…it has been months since Chris' death and even years since Vulcan's destruction…"

"I'm a doctor not a miracle worker…what do you except me to do?"

"I don't know. I just…I don't know…"

„C'mere!"

Spock looked at him.

Kirk sat on the edge of the bed, toeing of his boots with stiff movements. There where dark circle under his eyes and his whole posture spoke of exhaustion. The last mission had been a disaster. Twelve dead and thirty wounded - ten critically; Kirk would never get used to this, no matter how long he had the captaincy.

"We're bonded, married now – aren't we? So you're basically my wife now."

"I am not female – so I do not think that term applies…"

"Spock…just shut up…and c'mere…"

Kirk needed the Vulcan in his arms. He needed someone to hold on. He needed the comfort of the too cool body.

Something must have shown in his face because Spock came to sit beside him and Kirk drew him into a hug.

"James…"

"Just…only for a moment okay, sweetheart? Just let me hold you for a moment. Then you can hate me all over again. Okay?"

Spock didn't answer but didn't pull away either as Kirk tightened his grip.

They were on the Observation deck. After days of being confined to Kirk's quarters Spock had nearly felt claustrophobic and Kirk had suggested a change of scenery. So he had wrapped Spock in dozens of blankets and had brought him here.

There were few other people. Spock felt their thoughts when they accidentally brushed against him. The main sense was one of calm, but there were pinpricks of joy, of despair, of happiness and sadness and all the shades of gray in between. Spock's posture was relaxed the way it had not been since Christopher drew his last breath. Or, to be honest, since Nero chose to extinguish a whole race as punishment for the mistakes of one Vulcan - all those years ago. Had it not been for Spock, his mother, his father, his family would have been still alive.

Sometimes the guilt threatened to swallow him whole.

"You okay?" Kirk interrupted. He looked content, but there was a flicker of concern in his blue eyes. It was disturbing that Spock could read his moods so easily now.

"I am fine."

"I thought fine has various meanings?"

Spock raised his eyebrow and Kirk studied him for another second, then went back to surveying the stars. "Okay. Good. No small talk. Got it."

The Vulcan stared out the window in front of him. Kirk was humming a Terran song Spock did not know and thought about food and women and shift rotations, while people came and went. Spock felt suddenly strangely serene.

"I've something for you." Kirk opened the small package he had brought with him.

Cookies.

Spock blinked at him.

"Not replicated and no chocolate. I promise, darling."

"Captain…I…"

"I know you like them. I've seen you eating them before."

Spock looked like he was considering taking one, as Kirk smiled at him encouragingly, and said: "Very well."

The Vulcan thought of all the times, Christopher had bought him sweets and his eyes burned. He swallowed hard.

A large, calloused hand gripped him firmly on the shoulder. "Hey," Kirk said. "You okay?"

He was not. Kirk and Christopher had together destroyed a lifetime's worth of aloofness and control. Spock feared he would never get it back again.

"I do not know."

Kirk squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay…you know…it's okay if you aren't okay…"

Spock took a deep breath and the human drew him closer. They were suddenly alone.

"I cannot do this anymore," the Vulcan whispered and the human pressed a kiss against his temple.

"You can," Kirk said. 'We're so fucked', he thought.

"I don't want you down there. You're still on medical leave." Kirk snapped, voice holding that same brassy, demanding fearful note as it was common these days. "You're on a ton of painkillers and you're still healing."

"Captai-"

Spock observed the hard muscles of Kirk's stomach flex when he slipped into the bed, his hair still damp from the shower. The Vulcan sat up slowly.

"No and that's an order." Kirk shot him a glare.

"James-"

"I need to keep you safe, okay?" Kirk dared to worm a hand through the gap between their bodies and closed it around Spock's wrist. The Vulcan's eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath.

An image of the two of them, Spock's pupils blown wide open, mouth slick with spit, them kissing, Kirk's body covering his, moving in him, holding him down on the bed, hands intertwined …

Spock tore himself away, so forcefully he ended up physically pushing himself back, coming close to the edge of the bed, fingers tearing into the stiff sheets.

"You cannot want that….," Spock whispered, terrified.

"Spock…I…"

"Is that the reason why you bonded with me?"

"No."

Kirk tried to stop him as Spock hastily stood up but the Vulcan pushed his hands away, trembling hard. His heart was racing in his side. "Do not touch me."

"Spock…stop you'll hurt yourself…let's..talk about it…let me explain.."

As Spock turned on his heel and bolted for the door, Kirk followed him and tried to reach for his wrist but the Vulcan was faster and was out of his quarters before the captain could even say another word.

To be continued ...