10-85:

Jim's eyes leaked as the smoke whipped past his face. Specks of debris pelted his flushed cheeks and struck his mask. He breathed in filtered air like a vacuum, lungs filling to the brim with each mouthful as he sped after Spock—the boy's black hair stood out like a beacon in the brown fog.

"Lieutenant," Jim heard Spock call up ahead. He lurched to a stop as the Vulcan was suddenly there, waiting for him in the smoke. Spock place out a hand to keep a barrier between them, yet Jim noted that his small palm landed flat against his chest.

Spock looked at Jim before removing his hand and stepping away. He moved toward a towering shadow in the haze. Jim watched Spock reach out a blind hand and feel around the outside of the mammoth building. He hummed when his hand caught the main door's handle. Spock swung the door open and looked back at Jim.

Jim ran through the building's opening and Spock followed, squeezing his lithe body through the crack in the door as it swung shut behind them.

Gradually, the blur around Jim's eyes died away and he stared dumbly at the academy's lobby. The place looked like it had been torn apart at the seams. Furniture was tipped over and smashed, the light fixtures hung darkly from the walls and ceiling, and the panes in the arched windows were blown in, allowing wisps of Cloud 9 to fluttered in. Jim gaped up at the large holoscreen that hung over the lobby's main desk; a thick, jagged scratch covered its face.

Jim blinked and twisted around. His heart sank as he looked at his bare back. He had thrown his tank away in the midst of it all. The comm. was on the tank.

"Lieutenant." Jim jumped as Spock's muffled voice echoed through the still room. Spock swallowed, "This way."

Jim slowly walked over to Spock, taking in calming breaths. His heart still pounded, but the jolting pain in his leg was drawing his attention away from it. He stopped near Spock's side and watched as the boy tapped on a pale section of the sleek wall. There was a hiss and the wall split down the middle revealing a large turbolift.

Spock entered the lift without hesitation. He stared at Jim expectantly. "This will take us to the upper levels of the building."

Jim felt the pounding in his chest die down. He stepped inside the lift and Spock closed it with a quick jab at the row of buttons on the sidewall.

They stood in silence for a long moment. Jim propped his arms on the railing behind him and sighed, letting all of the knotted up tension in his shoulders drip off of him. He was so emotionally and physically drained that he thought he would keel over at any minute.

Jim looked around the lift, from the screen the floors as hey rolled past to the smears of red his leg and feet were leaving on the perfectly white tile. Jim hissed as he tried to straighten his right foot. He looked over at Spock—he was in the same state that he was. He'd forgotten his shoes as well, yet instead of red, a spread of green covered his bare feet; his eyes were bloodshot and narrowed from the flood of whipping smoke and sand; small cuts covered his smooth white skin.

Jim looked away as he felt Spock's eyes dig into his forehead.

Another moment went by before the lift slowed. The doors split apart and Spock slinked through them without a word. Jim followed, body objecting to the idea of further movement. He stumbled forward and the lift shut itself up.

The hallway they stood in was dark. It branched far off to the left, shooting down a row of closed doors and placards with Vulcan writing on them. Jim stared down the seemingly endless hall before Spock walked forward.

"The lecture hall that I study in is located on this floor," he said almost absently. He stepped up to one of the doors and traced is finger over the placard that hung there. "I have not attend lessons in 7.4 days…"

"That a bad thing?" Jim asked slowly.

Spock stood still for a moment before tapping on the door. It slid open easily, letting the pitch-black darkness it held back pour out into the hall. Jim watched Spock stepped into the shadows like a ghost.

Jim took a hesitant step in and immediately jumped as all light vanished. He felt himself cringed as the blackness swamp over his sight; having his vision impaired once was enough for a day. "Where's the damn lights?" he mumbled, trying to grasp a sense of where Spock had wandered off to.

Spock didn't answer but suddenly a light came up from the ground. Jim glanced over at the lit circle in the floor with wide eyes. He moved back as another flashed on, and another—soon, the entire room was filled with lights as the floor sprouted hundreds of glowing pits. Jim blinked and took a step over to the closest pit.

The hole was about five feet deep and plated with white florescent panels. In its center there was a black platform connected to a rotating cog. Jim arched his eyebrow at the small audio set built into the hole.

"What are these?" Jim asked to the air.

He felt a body come and stand next to him. "They are testing spaces," Spock said.

Jim turned so that he looked down at the top of Spock's head. "Testing spaces?"

"Indeed," Spock nodded. "Unlike many other forms of education, Vulcans are not taught by "teachers," rather programs that are computerized to cover various subjects in one sitting."

Jim glanced over the hundreds of spaces. "Wow." He looked down at the closest space before squatting with a groan.

"What are you doing?" Spock asked.

"Sitting," Jim bit out. He let his sore legs dangle over the pit before slowly pushing himself off the ledge. His back slid down the lighted walls before his ass slammed onto the platform. "Ah…" Jim sighed and stretched out his legs. He rolled back his shoulders and let his head lean against the wall that supported him.

Above him, Spock looked down at him in mild disapproval. "These spaces are designated to specific students—"

"No one's here, kid," Jim broke in.

He watched as Spock's eyes flashed. The boy looked over his shoulder before taking a breath and stepping off the pit's ledge; he walked down the walls gracefully. He stopped and observed how Jim's legs took up most of the space before gingerly seating himself to one side.

Jim looked over at him before sighing and laying his head back. There was an immense throbbing in his body. The pain ripped through him from his toes to his thigh and all the way up to the festering hole in his shoulder. Jim patted a hand over the opened wound at his thigh, fingers touching around new scars. His glove came back slick with blood. Fuckin' great, he thought.

With a sigh, Jim let his eyes close. Almost immediately, images of Tos and T'Lareth flashed in his head. Something cold spread through his veins and his heart twisted.

"T'Karik… That's her name…"

Jim felt his lip quiver when T'Lareth's voice speared his thoughts. It wasn't new—seeing death. It was his job, for fuck's sake. He could take the pain that came with losing a life, but he couldn't get over how pointless this whole thing was and how useless he felt.

So terribly useless.

For the entire mission, Spock had been saving him and all Jim had done was wander around like a dumbass trying to be a hero, trying to be a Kirk. Spock doesn't need me, he thought. No one needs me.

Tiredly, Jim opened his eyes and raked a hand down his face.

Who needs a person who can't even look after himself?

His thoughts stopped when Jim felt eyes on him. He scanned the pit before letting his eyes land on Spock—the boy was already staring back.

Do you need me, kid…? The questioned settled in Jim's brain like a sinking rock. He placed a hand over the burning gash in his leg and let his eyes wander over to examine the green smears around Spock's naked feet. He frowned. "Are your feet okay?"

Spock's eyes seemed to focus more (if that was even possible) and he blinked up at Jim's face. "They are well."

Jim nodded then hissed as his wound flared and his skin became hot.

Spock's eyes glanced down at Jim's bleeding leg. "You are injured."

"So are you," Jim gritted through his teeth.

Spock inclined his head and blinked. "Hardly. You, however, are bleeding profusely from various wounds about your body."

"It doesn't matter." Jim squeezed the torn skin between his thumb and forefinger as more blood gurgled out. He refrained from adding, "You're not supposed to be taking care of me..."

"Loss of blood can impair your well-being—"

"It doesn't matter."

Jim watched as Spock slid away so that he was sitting straight ridged against the pit's side. He stared at him levelly yet said nothing.

That awkward silence that had followed them since day one crept up again and Jim slunk away from it. It seemed like Spock was opening up, getting slightly closer to him, but Jim didn't know how to handle being around a pick-up this long. In previous missions, Jim would be lucky to even get one word out of his pick-ups, so it was weird to have gotten this…close to Spock.

Jim bit the inside of his lip and mumbled, "You saved my ass back there, kid."

Spock continued to stare at him, yet his body seemed to relax. "Protecting you as you have me was only logical," he finally said.

Jim blinked slowly as the statement nailed itself into his chest. "Logical huh..."

"Heh—," Jim's small laugh was cut as he hissed and grabbed his thigh again. He looked down at the floor as he felt Spock's eyes examine him, up and down.

They stayed like this until Jim cocked his head. "Did you like school?"

Spock blinked tightly. "Yes. I enjoy the value of education."

Jim smirked and looked down at how crowded his outstretched legs made Spock. He adjusted his positioning so that his legs moved up, allowing room for Spock to extend his legs away from his chest. The Vulcan seemed to nod a 'thank you.'

"I always hated school…" Jim went on. He looked up at the black ceiling. "I've been out of it for so long, it's kinda weird sitting in one."

"…School angered you?" Spock asked quietly.

Jim blinked and shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't like sitting behind a desk all day, and I didn't like people telling me what to do and what to study when I could've just gone and done it all myself. Ya know what I mean?"

A crease appeared in the middle of Spock's brow before vanishing. "I do not."

Jim pursed his lips. "Hmm… I didn't like anyone there, either."

At this, Spock tilted his head. "You disliked your classmates?"

Blinking, Jim licked his lips. "Ah, I was a pretty angry kid growing up and I guess people picked up on that." He snorted. "I mean, everybody loves a kid who smiles all the time and that wasn't me. So, I didn't get along all that well…"

"…You were unhappy as a child?"

Jim felt his head buzz. "A little. My family was messed up and shit…" he trailed off as memories bombarded him. Jim shook his head and sniffed. "Man, I haven't thought about this stuff in years."

Across from him, Spock glanced around. His dark brown eyes looked down at the folded up hands in his lap. "I have experienced similar…hindrances in my schooling."

Jim frowned. "What do ya mean?"

"I also do…did not favor my peers," Spock murmured.

"Why?"

Spock's mask sighed and his slanted eyebrows clashed together. "Many of them found satisfaction in verbally and physically harassing me."

It took a moment for what Spock said to sink in. "Kids picked on you?" Jim realized.

There was a small twitch in Spock's fingers. "Yes."

Jim gawked over at Spock and threw up his hands when he was silent. "What the fuck?! Why?"

Another twitch. "They believed that the marriage between my mother and father was a disgrace to my people. They believed that I was a bastard and that I should be banished for my differences." Spock glanced around once more. "Of course, these were adolescents making these claims; therefore I disregarded any and all attempts at eliciting emotional outbursts from me."

Again, the Vulcan went silent.

Jim sat motionless, letting his eyes take in the slightly pained look on Spock's face. People picked on Spock. People picked on Spock and it hurt him—

The thought made Jim burn inside.

"Did you tell anyone about this?" he asked.

Spock dropped his eyes to his hands again and raised his shoulders up to his earlobes. "Vulcans do not discuss personal problems with others."

"You didn't tell your parents?" Jim pressed.

"My mother did question me on this topic, yet I never disclosed the happenings of any incident with her."

"What about your dad?"

Spock set his jaw. "My father disapproved of my behavior towards the subject."

Jim sneered. "Your behavior?"

Spock's eyes narrowed at the ground. "In one occasion, my peers prompted me and I, in turn, acted out through physical violence."

"You beat someone up?"

The Vulcan paused. "…Yes."

A proud almost delighted feeling filled Jim's stomach. "Good. Little fucker deserved it."

"No being 'deserves' to fall victim to violent actions," Spock muttered. Jim watched him fold and unfold his fingers together, squeezing the digits roughly. "It was shameful of me to react in such a way as I did that day."

Jim could hear his heart beating in his ears. They were the same, and it was weird. Just like Spock, Jim didn't (wouldn't) talk about the feelings that ate him up from the inside out; he didn't let people see that he was actually terrified under all of that macho, "I fight my own fights." shit that he submerged himself in. It was weird, because they were both labeled:

Spock, the logical, emotionless Vulcan—Jim, Kirk's kid…

Leaning forward, Jim leveled his face with Spock's. "Don't ever listen to those people," he muttered.

Spock blinked up and caught Jim's eyes. He frowned. "You are trying to comfort me. This is unnecessary."

"No, it's not," Jim stressed. "People like that are idiots, okay. They don't know anything."

"On the contrary," Spock cut in. "My peers are very intelligent—"

"Well, they don't know shit about treating people," Jim snorted. "Just because you're different—" Because we're different "—doesn't mean that you should be treated like that."

Jim paused. "You're awesome, kid. Always remember that."

It was Spock's turn to hesitate. "I…do not understand your vernacular, Lieutenant."

A smile forced its way to the surface of Jim's lips. He moved one of his legs back out so that it brushed against Spock's hip, hoping that the Iunderstandyou'vegotme clogging up his mind would somehow seep through his skin and into Spock's.

And to Jim's surprise, Spock actually seemed to relax and he leaned into the touch instead of flinching away.

Chapter End Notes:

Chapter 8!-a.k.a Jim and Spock bond in this chapter, a.k.a This chapter is short, short, short...:(