Have you ever been stung by a bee and felt that surge of burning pain rise throughout the infected spot? If you haven't then just pretend, damnit, but that's exactly what Jim felt in that moment. The incredible pain welling up inside him was almost too much to bare. It hurt. He hurt. He felt like he had become the voice of the two Spocks who had to hide their feelings from the universe and was just letting it all out through him.
He arrived at the door of Mr. Spock's cabin. He had not the slightest idea how he had gotten there or when he had arrived. He had apparently chimed the door too, because a spilt second later the door opened and on the other side stood Mr. Spock, his face emotionless, his body stone, his eyes looking down and directly at the younger Captain.
Jim pushed himself forward, knocking both Mr. Spock and he into the room, the door shutting snugly behind them as Jim wrapped his arms around the hard chest of Mr. Spock and he cried.
Jim.
He cried.
Mr. Spock, if Jim had looked up, had dropped his barrier for a slight moment to show utter confusion, his eyes wide in disbelief, his arms not touching the young Captain as if he had no idea what to do. The actions were as foreign to him as Vulcan cuisine was to Jim. Bringing back some logic, he regained his stoic features and placed his inhumanly warm hands on Jim's shoulders to calm him. Jim's grip only tightened as he poured his tears into the older Vulcan's chest.
Jim hadn't cried like that in a long time. The last time he had cried this hard was after he had nearly killed himself by running that car off a cliff. His mother had been so worried and upset that he began to cry when he realized how much he had worried her. He grasped her tightly, begging her, pleading with her, telling her how sorry he was and that he loved her. This scene with Mr. Spock was oddly reminiscent, but he had learned control over the years. He didn't just cry for the sake of it, no, he was crying now because the implanted emotions were crying. Unlike a Vulcan, he couldn't hold them in, hence the scene now playing out in the older Spock's quarters.
Mr. Spock let him continue for a few more moments, rubbing his back in an awkward way as if he'd never done it before, and making noises that sounded like he was trying to shush Jim and calm him. Eventually, Jim pulled away and saw the large damp spot he had put on the man's tunic. Wiping his face in embarrassment, he offered him a change of uniform. Mr. Spock accepted, knowing the trip to get the uniform would probably calm Jim a little more, and so when he returned with the dry clothes, he had been right. Jim felt a little better.
He turned around as Mr. Spock began to remove his shirt to exchange it for the dry one. "I'm…I'm sorry about that." Jim said after a while. He felt so stupid for doing it, he was the Captain of a fucking starship now! Captains aren't supposed to act that way. Ever. At least, that's what Jim thought.
"Do not worry yourself," Mr. Spock said behind him, "but might I inquire what formed this emotional outburst?" Jim turned, he didn't even know if the guy was dressed yet, but he didn't care, he turned and gave a solemn look to that older Vulcan. Mr. Spock had just pulled his tunic down and stopped with his hands on the hem when his eyes caught sight of those melting blue orbs of the younger Captain.
"I think I understand why you 'claimed' him." Jim spoke softly. "I mean, the bite scar and all that. You wanted every woman he slept with to know, didn't you?" Older Spock's brow lifted, confused, and then settled. In the standard uniform of his timeline's Starfleet, Mr. Spock nearly looked as his own Spock would look. It was calming for the situation. Mr. Spock turned his gaze away and moved so he could sit on the small bed. He laid his hand beside him to usher Jim to sit next to him. Jim complied.
"James and I," he paused, "we," pause, "you asked me what kind of relationship James and I had after the mind meld we had shared to explain your current situations. I said that that would be a story for another time and it appears that that time is now." He eyes steadily moved to Jim's. "You have spoken with James?"
"Yes." Jim answered regretfully, "I spoke with him moments before I came here." Mr. Spock nodded.
"Our relationship, no matter what my Captain has told you, is mutual. We express our love differently than typical couples of Vulcan or Earth might show. We are 'friends with benefits' as James would say, and I am as accepting of that as he is accepting of my claim on him."
"Liar." Jim blurted. The older Vulcan eyed him.
"Vulcans do not lie."
"Bullshit." Jim took hold of his arm, instinctively, not for any other reason than that, Mr. Spock looked where Jim had touched him. "When we melded, you left something behind." Mr. Spock's hard eyes softened and quizzically took his gaze, "I can…feel…what you feel for him."
"My apologies, that would be an error on my part as I did not foresee this complication."
"Stop that! Don't apologize or anything, just hear me out." Silence. "So due to some weird interstellar shit, I can feel things that I shouldn't but I know they belong to you and I know you're lying when you say that it's 'mutual' or that you're 'fine' with it. Damnit!" Jim abruptly stood and looked down at the sitting man. "You put that mark on him for a reason and it was obviously logical when you did it. Admit it, you're upset about his unfaithfulness to you and you wanted every damn person he bedded to know he was already taken! Even my Spock!" Mr. Spock did not move. "You can't 'logic' your way out of this one!" Tears began welling into his eyes again, "because…because…this is your pain I'm feeling…and I…I…" he began to sob, "I fucking hate it!" Tears rolled down his face again, he tried to muster the strength to keep it in, but the emotions were over-powering. How had the two older Spocks dealt with this? It was clear that emotions as strong as these were not meant for a Human to hold. Powerful, strong, intense, Jim could hardly stand it.
Mr. Spock stood and took Jim briskly into his arms, placing warm lips to his forehead. It was a loving, small, embrace. Jim's eyes shot open in response; it was strange and welcoming at once. He pulled his arms up close to his body, mindless wiping the tears from his face as Mr. Spock's grip tightened around him. He felt those slender fingers digging into his back as he tried to pull Jim closer into him.
"Why?" Jim whispered into the Vulcan's pointed ear.
"Because I love him." Came the soothing, low voice.
"How?" His hold tightened.
"Because I love him." Mr. Spock pushed them apart slightly so he could take in the view of Jim's wet face. "Because I love you." Jim wrapped his arms around the man's neck as more tears stung their way to surface. It was like the emotions had enhanced now and he was releasing all the pain and suffering Mr. Spock had endured. He was the outlet for the man's emotions. This was unlike him, Jim knew, but he knew it wasn't him doing it. These were Mr. Spock's feelings. He was venting for him. He wanted to vent for him.
The tears continued for a few more minutes until it slowly died into soft breathing. The older Spock had held on to him for the entire time. He was sure there would be bruises where the Vulcan's grip had been.
"Thank you." Mr. Spock whispered into his ear before he let the younger Captain go. "Thank you for being my release." He cradled Jim's head into his neck; Jim welcomed it. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated that phrase over and over until it died in soft puff of air. "Thank you." He pressed a soft kiss to Jim's forehead. "Thank you." He pressed a softer kiss to Jim's eye lids. "Thank you." And now to his cheek. "Thank you." and with that last whisper, a kiss was pressed softly on to his lips. All logic, all control, was now lost as he accepted the kiss from the sullen older man. He could feel the heat from his mouth, soft, hard, soft, hard, soft, hard, as their lips crashed. A tongue slipped by, Jim felt it grace him and then he felt the older Spock push a hand on to his body and grasp lightly at his chest. They stumbled backward as Jim was guided to the desk behind them, their bodies falling together on to its cold, hard surface. Jim thought for a moment they had knocked off all the equipment that had been sitting on it. He didn't seem to care with the kiss continuing as the older man took control of him, gripping his hair, claiming his mouth, squeezing his body.
Jim felt he would surely go insane.
He felt a warm, hard bulge beginning to push into his thigh and it was met with his rubbing against Mr. Spock. The pure extract of raw emotion was filling him as those warm hands cupped his face to steady their tongue play and their hips ground into one another.
Breathing, being the damn necessity that it was, forced them to break apart for only a moment. Their mouths were so close, lingering on the taste of the other. Jim looked up into those dark eyes and saw a passion he had never known any Vulcan to show. Those eyes, those dark, intoxicated eyes—Jim couldn't look away. They captured him and beckoned him for more. Jim took a fistful of the blue tunic and pulled him violently into another kiss. Their lower parts kept rubbing, grinding, oh God the grinding felt so nice.
Hands wandered over the other. They were soft, they were violent, they were gentle, they were scratching. Oh, oh, oh! They parted, staring into each other's gaze. It was so warm, so nice, so homey. Jim wanted this. He wanted this badly. Something was edging him on, to take a fistful of that dark hair and claim him.
Claim him.
Huh. That sounded familiar.
Claiming.
Mr. Spock lowered his head and kissed Jim's neck, going higher, lower, then higher again until he reached his nape. Once there, he could feel the hot Vulcan tongue stroking him and then—a bite.
Jim pushed Mr. Spock away from him once he realized himself again. This was wrong. The Older Spock was trying to stake claim on him! The more experienced eyes tensed and looked confused with their matching lifted brow.
No.
This was wrong.
No. No. No.
Jim's shaky hand was pushing back on the other man's shoulder, trying to deter him from moving any closer. He shown fear in his eyes from the realization of his actions. He wanted to continue, he really did, but these feelings weren't his. He only wanted to keep going because the implanted emotions wanted him to.
Older Spock must have realized the same thing because a sudden wave of embarrassment enveloped Jim and Mr. Spock was quick to remove himself from on top of the younger Captain. A slight green flush went from his cheeks to his ears.
They were breathing hard, the sound of said breathing filling the silence between them. Jim stared at him, wondering what he should say. What did you say in a situation like this? It was clear that the emotions inside him had taken temporary control and pushed them both to a breaking point no one had anticipated.
I have to have these removed, Jim thought, if I don't, I might not be able to stop myself if this…this happens…again.
Silence.
"Forgive me, Jim." That was all he heard before Mr. Spock briskly walked towards his door. He didn't know if that apology was meant for him or James, but he didn't care. He had to stop Mr. Spock, he could feel the confusion and embarrassment in the air surrounding him. Jim fell off the table and went after him. He had to tell him it was okay, that it was the emotions and it was all right. The emotions intensified and as he darted into the corridors after the older man, he could feel one certain thought emitting from him: Mr. Spock felt he had betrayed his lover, and yet, he was not ashamed of it. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Acceptance. Jim felt them all. He called after the older Spock.
He kept moving. He called again, but he did not stop. Jim was just as confused by the situation as he was, so in an angered attempt to stop him, Jim raced down the hall and gripped the Vulcan's wrist tightly and managed to stop him mid-stride.
In an instant, Jim was thrown into the nearby wall and pinned there by a vice grip. Lips fell immediately onto his and it was all Jim could do to break it away. The foreign emotions heightened again and Jim could feel Mr. Spock's thoughts. He wanted Jim. Not his Jim. This Jim. The kiss was broken, a line of saliva parting with their lips.
"Stay away from me." Mr. Spock warned. "Should you choose to initiate an audience with my person, I will not be held responsible for my actions." Mr. Spock wanted him, but he was aware that it was wrong. He knew he couldn't have this Jim. Suddenly, Mr. Spock's gaze flickered to the right and in curiosity (since they had been staring intently at one another), Jim looked that way as well and his eyes widened.
Spock, his Spock, was standing at the end of the deck. Watching them.
Mr. Spock released him and he slid down the wall carelessly, knowing how the situation just went from bad to fucked up in an instant. The older Vulcan kept staring at the younger one down the hall. Jim heard footsteps. He knew Spock was coming, but he didn't look up. The only way he knew his Spock was there now with them was the fact that he saw an extra set of boots in front of him—and then he heard a loud smack. That made Jim look up.
Mr. Spock's face was still but he could see a slight greenish tint on his cheek while his Spock had his fists at his sides looking as though he hadn't smacked him physically, but mentally. Their stare was intense. Jim was almost too frightened to keep looking at them. No one spoke, but the younger Captain could see Mr. Spock was about to say something.
"You have a good Captain."
"Leave this deck at once." Spock sneered but his voice remained calm.
"He did not do this. It was entirely my error."
"Leave this deck at once."
"He stopped me."
"As this is my reality and I am the First Officer of this ship, I order you to leave at once."
"Do not blame him. He is a good man." A smack. "I…envy you." The last sentence had been so soft that Jim wasn't sure that was exactly what he had heard. The silence remained for a few seconds before Mr. Spock turned on his heels automatically and walked back into his quarters. Jim and Spock watched him until the door closed and they were alone in the corridor. Spock looked down at him, flames behind those calm eyes.
"Are you injured?" He asked at length.
"No."
"Do you require an escort to Sickbay?"
"No."
"I will inform Dr. McCoy of your arrival to treat the injuries my counterpart carelessly inflicted upon you."
"Damnit, Spock, shut the fuck up." He stood forcefully and rubbed his head. He saw that his choice of words had startled his First. He tried to back-pedal. "I'm sorry. Look, I'm not going to Sickbay. I'm not hurt." A hand surprised him as the slender fingers touched a sore spot on his neck and moved back into view to show red on his First Officer's fingers. Jim hadn't known the bite had been that hard.
"Jim." Spock whispered, a noticeable concern in his voice. Jim knew what he was trying to say. Mr. Spock had claimed him. He would have a scar there and forever be reminded and remind those around him that he had been claimed. He felt heaviness in his gut. He was ashamed.
"You require medical assistance."
"No," Jim shot out, "what I need isn't Bones and his griping. What I need is…you." That caught Spock off guard and a brow tilted in response followed by a small blush.
"I hardly see this situation fitting for another one of your crude pick-up lines."
"It's not a pick-up line!" Jim said with frustration, making it clear to his First by rubbing his head again, "I need you and not in the physical 'fuck me' way. I need you to…to…" Why couldn't he say it? Remove these emotions, Spock. Why couldn't he say it? He tried again, but failed. The episode with Mr. Spock had left a huge impression on him and was making the emotions prevent him from speaking what he really wanted and was replacing them with what that Spock wanted. He choked.
"What I'm trying to say is…" he choked. He tried again, but nothing came out. He grasped Spock's shoulders almost painfully trying to get his message across. "I need you to…please…do…do it…" His heart ached and he found himself running out of breath. Why was this so painful?
"You wish for me to remove them?" Spock asked. Jim looked up, he hadn't told Spock about his problem yet and he was trying to tell him now, so it surprised him that his First knew what he was trying to say at all. Jim nodded. Spock looked away. "You are aware that if I remove them, you may not feel the same way as you do towards Mr. Spock or myself, correct?" Jim reluctantly nodded. "You may even go back as far as to find my person as distasteful as you did the moment we met." He froze, but Jim nodded. If he didn't get these things removed, he would surely do something stupid again not of his own will. At least f they were removed he might have a chance of regaining himself and being friends with his Spock again. It was obvious that the complete exposure to their counterparts had caused a rift to form between them. But then, there was something else, Jim liked Spock and he didn't want that to go away. Was it the emotions or was it him that had thought that?
"My request to have an audience with you in private," Spock said calmer now, "was just on this subject, Jim." He looked up at those dark eyes. "I wished to tell you that I had spoken with my elder self and he informed me of your misfortune and how I could resolve it. I had intended to remove those emotions tonight, so please do not appear so frightened. It was inevitable that I would find out." He was right. Jim knew he was. With a quick grasp of his arm, Spock led him into his cabin where Spock told him what he was going to do.
They sat on his bed, side by side. Spock explained the process of a mind meld and how he would do his best to remove the pain and foreign objects as much as he could without harmful damage. When Jim acknowledged and the fingers were placed on his face, they looked into each other's eyes.
"I must warn you," Spock said quietly, "that should the emotions have driven too deep into you person, I may be forced to remove them completely. You will forget all the feelings of friendship you not only had for Mr. Spock and elder Spock, but for myself. It will be as though we never were friends to begin with." Jim placed a hand on the base of his wrist that was on his face.
"Promise me, that," he paused, "if you have to remove them and we go back to hating each other…will you still try to be my friend?" Spock's brow shot up but then settled.
"I am not able to foresee if I will be able to, Jim." Jim looked away. "But," he hesitated, "I promise that I will try." He smiled at his Vulcan friend.
"Thank you, Spock." He said more to himself than to his First officer. This is what it had come down to. Jim didn't want to loose his friendship, but it was apparent that the emotions were driving him mad. If left untreated, he might have ran away with Mr. Spock and left his own in the dust. He might have fought James for the right of Mr. Spock's partnership or may have hurt his Spock when questioned on his actions. This was necessary. Jim didn't want to hurt anybody. Sacrifice, I will sacrifice myself for them.
"My mind to your mind." He heard Spock say. My thoughts to your thoughts. He felt a wave overtake him. It was so powerful that he swore he had gasped, but if he had really done it or not was hard to tell. He could feel Spock in his mind, searching, scratching, scraping around. It became so intense that Jim lost consciousness, overwhelmed by the sheer force of the meld.
Everything went black.
...
Jim didn't remember getting dressed, or hell, waking up that morning, but he was sitting in his Captain's chair, staring intently at the view screen ahead of him when he had spoken.
"You say there are similar readings in that quadrant?" Jim asked, though he wasn't sure who he was asking.
"Yes, Captain." came a stoic voice. He turned and saw his First Officer standing beside him, hands clasped and emotionless. "Should we seek to plot a course?" The engines were still not 'working' properly, but were able to travel light enough not to 'slow down the repairs'. It would take a while to reach it, but to keep up the façade they had to do as such.
"Yes. Mr. Chekov, plot a course according to Mr. Spock's data." He heard two 'aye, sir's and went back to his thoughts. He watched as his First Officer walked in front of him to assist young Chekov with the data. It was strange, Jim could have sworn that he at one point had seen his Fist not so emotionless, like he at one point had been able to read the man, but Jim tossed it aside thinking that was insane.
He had never liked Spock.
Well, not to a point where they were so close Jim could read him. Jim had to hand it to him, the half-Vulcan was an awesome co-worker, but not so sure on the friend part.
It would take them six hours to reach the supposed anomaly that was found in the nearby quadrant. He decided to debrief the counterparts of the situation and look over the data from both Spock and Mr. Spock. They needed a good idea on how they would approach the matter of sending the men back.
Spock followed him briskly into the turbolift. It was silent, but Jim could feel something heavy in the air.
"Captain," Spock suddenly asked, Jim turned towards him and saw that the stone barrier on his First was hard and unwelcoming, but something had softened around his eyes, "would you care to partake in a game of Chess tonight with me in the Private Rec Room on our deck?" Jim lifted his brow and doubletaked.
"Um, I'm sorry to say this but I don't play Chess, Mr. Spock." That was weird. When had Spock decided to play a game with him? There had been rising tension between the two of them ever since they had taken on the mini missions as far as he knew. Why the sudden change of heart? He eyed the man beside him. Did he see Spock lower his head for a brief instant?
"Our counterparts enjoy the game and I am certain that your intellect will prove most challenging in such a strategic game. Will you reconsider?" Jim laughed at the offer. It was so strange to hear Spock say those things. Well, maybe this was the offering of the white flag? If so, working together with his First Officer would prove far more productive than working against him.
"Okay, I'm all for cease fires, Mr. Spock. If this is your attempt to ease the obvious dislike we have for another, I can take it. I'll humour you."
"Thank you, Captain." The way his First had said 'Captain' was almost longing. He studied him and saw no emotion, just as he expected, but the man was different somehow. Different than how he had remembered him behaving in the weeks passed. He had no more time to think about it as the doors opened and the two exited. They reached the Private Rec Room and Jim noticed a small area on the wall underneath the word 'PRIVATE' that looked like something had once been taped there. Strange. Why was he noticing that now?
They entered and were greeted by the faces of their counterparts, Bones and Leonard. Bones was quick to approach him and start running his tricorder over Jim's body.
"Hey," Jim said with a smirk, "What's the deal?" Bones looked up and then switched glances between him and Spock.
"You suffered a recent mild head trauma. I'm just making sure you're still our Jim." Well, that explained why Jim was feeling so weird and flighty.
"What happened?" Jim asked, knowing he must have hit his head hard to not remember the trauma. It happened again. Bones switched glances with Spock. Jim felt himself become slightly irritated with that. Spock was quick to answer.
"With the last magnet burst, a side effect was radiation which took an effect on you hours after the anomaly had imploded. Dr. McCoy has been working steadily to cure the agitation that set in your mind."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock," Jim said, but caught himself as he was in the room with two Spocks. "Spock." He corrected. "So, let's get to it, then. Spock has located a possible…" he began to inform the counterparts of the situation. He noticed that while he and Spock were explaining that James appeared distracted and Mr. Spock looked slightly uncomfortable. He stopped mid-sentence.
"Bones, Leonard, could you two possibly see to James and Mr. Spock? They don't look so good." James and Mr. Spock looked up.
"I am fine, Captain." Mr. Spock said quickly followed by James saying he was fine as well.
"We are just anticipating the prospect of going home." James told him gently. The man seemed uneasy, Jim could tell. Why did everyone in the room seem so…dead? He turned to his First Officer and pulled him aside for a moment.
"Spock," Jim began, "I don't know what has happened but everyone seems on edge. Do I have something stuck in my teeth?" He flashed his pearly whites. Spock didn't look amused.
"There is nothing stuck in your teeth, Captain. I can assure you. I do believe that everyone is tired from our constant workload and the teetering idea that our counterparts may or may not go home." Jim laid a hand on Spock's shoulder.
"Hey, you might be right, but lighten up yourself." He said with ease, "You're my First Officer and you seem a little out of it too. I don't need you falling on the job. That'd be weird and very hard to explain to Starfleet Command when I have to give you your annual review." He smiled. He and Spock might not be friends, but they were a team and he tried to be nice when he could. Who knows, maybe they could become friends?
Spock finished explaining the situation and all ended with them parting to retrieve more data from their scans and write the needed reports for Starfleet Command. As Jim was leaving, he felt uneasy eyes on him, like everyone was watching him. It was becoming annoying. Whether he had suffered head trauma or not, he felt normal and didn't like them all scrutinizing him like he wasn't.
Six hours later, after three written reports and formal addresses to Starfleet, they had reached the quadrant only to discover that there was no anomaly and it had simply been a decaying black hole. When Jim had to share this information with the counterparts, the eyes became heavier and Jim felt himself loosing it. Why was everyone looking at him like that? Just as he was about to shout 'dude, quick fuckin' staring at me' Spock was quick to divert his attention by asking if he was still interested in a Chess match. Jim complied. Anything, anything, was better than the tension he was feeling.
The others filed out of the room leaving the two of them alone. When the board was being set up, Spock started to explain the game and managed to deflect all his crude remarks as though he had explained the game to him before. After a few turns, Jim spoke up on something completely off topic.
"Am I the same, Spock?" Jim asked. His First looked up from the board.
"Of course, Captain. You are as you should be." The answer was quick, Jim didn't notice the subtle worry in his tone.
"Then why does everyone look at me like I'm a ghost?" Spock moved his rook.
"It is your turn, Captain." He niggled.
"Are you not going to answer my question?"
"I will be able to call Checkmate in three moves if you do not study your positions."
"Spock."
"Is there something you require, Captain?"
"Answer me."
"I do not know of what you are asking." Jim became frustrated. There was an obvious tension forming. That was too bad too, because Jim was starting to really like Spock.
"Something has happened and I want to know what it is." Jim demanded.
"Nothing has happened." His brow tilted and Jim finally lost it. For his entire shift he's felt nothing but scrutiny and it had finally taken it's toll. He threw the board aside and it crashed on the floor. Spock didn't move a muscle. He looked at the board in pieces on the floor and looked back up to Jim. "That was not necessary, Captain." His eyes shot deathly glares. "If you were unsatisfied with the game, you could have resigned."
Oh, Jim was furious.
"What the fuck is your problem? Do you get off on pissing me off or something? It's a simple damn question and I order you to tell me why everyone is treating me like I'm under a damn microscope! Head trauma or fucking not, it's damn annoying!" He had lifted himself violently from the table and moved himself into Spock's personal space as if to challenge his private bubble. Spock did not answer. "That's a direct order." Jim reminded him.
"Well, I am not answering, Captain." Spock told him. Jim recognized how he had said those words. They were exactly as Jim had said to him when they had energized back onto the ship from Delta Vega with Scotty and Jim had refused to answer Spock's inquires.
Spock was a damn good First Officer and Jim knew this. To Court Martial him for not taking orders would be the dumbest thing in the history of his fuckery to do. Jim knew that Spock knew this. In aggravation, Jim threw the table over in a violent rage and stormed from the room. What had happened? He entered his quarters swiftly, thinking he could use a shower, and began undressing the moment his door opened.
He entered his bathroom and wrapped a towel around himself as he gathered his soaps and scrubbing utensils. He stopped halfway to the shower when he had caught sight of something unfamiliar in his sink mirror.
He back stepped.
He looked at his reflection and saw on his nape a scar that looked like a bite. Curious, he moved closer to the mirror to study it and ran his finger delicately over it. He stared, almost in a trance. A flash crossed his eyes like a quick movie and he saw two dark eyes staring into his and these eyes were crying. He knew they belonged to his Spock, but was that a memory? He had never seen Spock cry. He honestly didn't think the guy had it in him. He shook his head, trying to throw the image out. I must be tripping balls, Jim thought. Why else would he be thinking that such an image was a memory? It made no sense. But somehow…it did.
What had happened to him?
Where did this scar come from?
And why did he suddenly feel…sad?
...
A/N – Oh, Jim, you poor thing. You don't remember but the rest of them do. I hate making you so emo, but it's necessary for the plot. *cries* Will Jim remember what happened? Will Spock bend to his Captain's will and tell him that Jim made-out with Mr. Spock and he had to remove those feelings of love? Oh, I wanna know too! *rushes off to write the next chapter*.
Thank you for all your support! I really appreciate it! *hugs*