Dance In The Dark
AN: Fourth piece inspired by "Dance In The Dark" by Lady GaGa.
Disclaimer: Plot is mine, not the characters and the song belongs to Lady Gaga and associates!
Rating: T for strong language
Only in the dark. Only ever in the dark.
He can't let him see. He's a mess. He's a mess.
When he's looking, Jim falls apart. He loves him, he does, but he can't give up enough to prove it. He's locked up in a corner of his mind that no one can reach, because he's stressed and such a mess.
Spock hasn't seen all the scars, all the permanent marks that he's screwed up, a lot and often. There were so many.
He wanted to be perfect for him, whole, sane, in working order, not some ragged, passed around, worn-out shell of a man. He wanted to be stable, but he was just so fucked up, he could barely stand on his own two feet.
He had another new scar.
And tonight they were together, but only in the dark. He just couldn't let Spock see.
And when they fought in Spock's controlled way, he couldn't do anything but crawl away, an attempt to find that corner of his mind to hide in. The lights were on and he's falling apart, shaking violently.
No one else could ever see him this way. He didn't trust anyone else to see him so weak, but Spock didn't stay long enough to see the mess he became.
He was falling. He left the lights on.
Another new scar.
He wanted Spock to come back, but he wouldn't beg. As much as he needed him, Jim couldn't let himself admit that he needed Spock. It was too much to own up to. Tomorrow morning, he would be there, like nothing happened, but he would still be falling.
Nothing could catch him because he was too proud to accept help. He needed to give in, to bend, to break his habit. But he could only relinquish control in the dark. If everything came into the light, he would shake apart.
He's not put together well enough to be able to hold up.
But he knows that if he can't let Spock see him, he would lose him forever. There's only so far Spock is willing to go before this all becomes Jim forcing him into dead end waste of time. He demanded too much and gave up so little.
But he loved him.
Only in the dark.
He couldn't help but scream until this throat was hoarse. He tore at his face. He swore at everything that had ever touched him and taken a piece until there was nothing left for him to make sense of anything. He hated the way his mother looked at him like a ghost. He hated that Sam abandoned him. He hated that Frank took out his anger on him. He hated that he had no one. He hated the dark. But he needed it.
He hated being alone. But here he was, in the goddamn Captain's quarters with everything he always thought he wanted, the proof that he was more than a backwards farm boy with a hidden talent for finding danger, but he was still in the dark.
But when Spock can see him, he falls apart.
He's doesn't know what would happen to him if he shook apart. He was too afraid to let himself. Yet he didn't want to fall until he couldn't figure out which direction was up. It was hard to see already. He was lightheaded.
He wanted to call him back, but Jim was afraid that he had pushed too far, waited too long, and missed his chance. He's just a tramp, a mess, and he's still falling.
His voice had given out long ago and his body was tense. He couldn't beg him back if he wanted to. And how could he? He had wasted so much time in his obstinacy, but couldn't Spock tell he was scared? God was he afraid. He was afraid that if Spock could see everything he would realize how messed up he was. If he could keep Spock in the dark, he could never see the scars and the holes, he could love him for what he could show. But he was lying.
His eyes were wide but he couldn't see anything. He felt like a mess. He reached his arms out, trying to feel anything, but he was numb. This is why it only works in the dark.
He felt fire at his wrists, burning and crushing the skin. His back hit the wall. His eyes stung and he still couldn't see. He wanted to get out of the dark. He felt fingertips on his face, he acquiesced desperately and his heart dropped and his mind exploded.
The fire of the blast lit everything. It reached for his corner.
You can't! He cried, trying to dampen the light. It started to recede, it was fading, and he was falling apart. His mind started to cool and he screamed defensively, trying to pull the light back in to stop himself from freezing, from shaking.
I'll never let you fall apart.
His body convulsed, but strong hands held him, and it felt as if he was holding onto himself. He could see himself fall apart and his knees buckled. He could see the corner, he led the light to it, and all his scars flooded their senses, all the wounds and the words that inscribed themselves in him. The light reached them all. It couldn't heal them, but it swallowed the pain.
He cried and at the same time he wasn't crying. Spock's mind wrapped around him and his eyes shut tightly, reflexively, falling back on one last darkness.
Their lips met and his eyes slid open. He could see the blue of his own eyes though Spock's, so desperately blue and searching, healing, the red, blood-shot rim, the pain leaking from his eyes.
So much spread through him, the light filled him, and he could never be without it again.
But his heart beat uncontrollably. He could see him. He held onto Spock with every ounce of strength. Before he could fall apart, strong arms held him together. His heart still raced, and he stumbled back in his head and the dark crept up behind him. His light faded away, becoming dim, a faint presence barely lingering inside his head.
But it was still there.
He had gone too far. He offered everything, and he wasn't sure he should have. There was anger in his head, but it wasn't his and it scared him. He crashed further in the darkness where the light couldn't reach.
He was so stupid. He trembled. He only half-understood what he had given into, and that was dangerous. He took everything this time, he stole his freedom this time and he couldn't give it back. Never. Even if his heart stopped beating right now, he could never give it back. He moaned in agony, his mind ripping itself open, light pouring in again, scalding and powerful, too powerful, and he needed to know what he had done but he was shaking apart again. He was standing alone, and the light flooded in too fast and this could be the end of him.
What had he done?
What had he done?
His body went numb. If he couldn't piece himself together, he had committed the worst atrocity, and his mind continued to rip itself open as an offering to the fire filling him, offering up his traitorous fragments, melting them, and they flowed together. The darkness crashed over him and cooled his molten spirit, finally a whole after so many years, but there were parts that weren't his, things that had come from the light, patches and fragments that were given to him.
His knees shook and he fell. How could Spock have given him anything? He didn't deserve anything. He had nearly ruined his life. But maybe he didn't.
The last tiny slivers of the dark shook apart and broke into nothing and were gone. The blazing sun that invaded him paled, but not to darkness. When he opened his eyes again, the light was still inside him, warming him, and he was whole.
And he would have this light forever.
AN: Angst. But I love it. And I love this song. The tone of this song was so full of angst I thought. Let me know what you think!