Blame my absence on Guesty. *points finger*

Jim crawled back into consciousness to find himself sprawled over his childhood bed. It was the first time in just over two weeks he had woken alone. It took a moment for him to adjust. Pupils expanded and contracted in the dark as he tried to spot all the familiar silhouettes. The coat rack by the door with his hideous coat, hat, face scarf and goggles. The edge of his chest of drawers, a place he'd broken three of his toes over the years. Stumbling around in the dark was never a good idea. The tall line of his wardrobe by the eastern window, light only just managing to stream through the spot he'd personally slashed in the blinds.

Once he'd found each point, Jim threw his legs over the edge of the bed and slowly inched his way onto the floor. It wasn't that high but some extra care had to be taken with his back. The new skin had the annoying tendency to pull a little, like a jacket that was just a half size too tight. It might have been uncomfortable but the salve Phil had prescribed worked wonders. Especially at the hands of a dedicated Vulcan.

Jim rested most of his weight on his left leg. The right one was recovering at a slower rate. The liquid silver Kodos poured in his wounds had poisoned him. Specifically, the silver which sunk into his bloodstream from the particularly nasty gash in his right leg. A nasty gash, he'd been told, which exposed bone and wrapped around 67.93% of his leg. Two surgeries and six follow up treatments were performed whilst Spock kept him sedated.

Spock. He sighed and ran a hand threw his hair, absently noting that he needed a shower. He felt conflicted. On one hand, the side which was hopelessly in love with the Vulcan was thrilled. Another part was confused. A little devastated. Kind of angry. He was married? Engaged? A little in between? Why hadn't he been informed? It was clear that their families knew. All that teasing gained a new meaning. One which Jim wasn't too sure about. Had no one thought it important to tell him? If he'd been told when they were younger, maybe this wouldn't have happened. He'd have acclimatised to Spock whilst they were just kids. He'd certainly never have gone out and slept with half the species in the Federation.

At one point in his life, he'd assumed that he'd never want to touch minds with someone ever again. The last experience had been sudden and while not painful, left him dazed and vulnerable in a way he'd never been. Jim Kirk had a shell. Armour, if you please. A cocky, self absorbed façade to keep everyone else at bay. He'd grown up on two worlds, both cruel and without a single friend. The only cliques formed solely to insult anyone bearing Human heritage. Though they later focused on Spock, Jim had learnt to use a bone mender in the few hours before his mother came home within a month of moving. Vulcan was not the best place for a child to grow up.

Now he could admit to himself that he wanted to meld with Spock. He was soothed by the warm presence in the back of his mind. He needed answers. And he could only get them from Spock. Was he brave enough to ask? Would Spock see his feelings as a rejection?

Jim bit his lip and concentrated on moving. If he could get to the door, he could walk down the hall. If he could walk down the hall, he could get down the stairs. If he could get downstairs, he could walk to the kitchen. It might not be the best place for a confrontation, but Spock was there. It was all Jim needed.

He stumbled forward, one hand outstretched as he came within range of the drawers. He leaned against it, panting lightly. Although the house's computer regulated the heat, the system only lowered it by a few degrees. Already, Jim could feel the tell tale stickiness on his arms and legs. A single droplet trailed down the line of his spine. Now he definitely needed that shower.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself towards the door. His back was aching and his leg burned with every beat of his heart. Walking unassisted wasn't the best idea he'd ever had but it beat being babied or carried around. While he'd liked the attention at first, he really did love to be the centre of everyone's personal universes, it had gotten old quite a few days ago. Jim liked to do things himself. He liked to surpass people's expectations, to see the shock on their faces when he manages something they thought was impossible. He lives for the moment when he proves everyone wrong. The exact second when reality hits and their faces pale as every cruel word comes back to haunt them. The same second he can spot the faintest traces of humour and pride in Spock's eyes.

Getting better, learning how to use their bond, these are things he knows he needs to work on. They are weaknesses in his collection of perfect abilities. New weapons he has yet to practise with. Surpassing the Vulcan doctor's predictions would be easy. They over patronised Humans too often. It left them open to his attack. In this game of war, James T. Kirk versus the universe, he would win.

The door swished open as his palm fell over the control. Jim poked his head out and checked. Either Spock wasn't listening in on his movements or he trusted Jim to make it downstairs. Jim felt his heart swell. Affection tumbled through him. He sent it in the rough direction of Spock's presence. Perhaps their conversation would be easier if Spock was reassured. Jim didn't want to hurt him. His entire being shied away from the thought of it. At a base level, he was Spock's and Spock was his and that would never change. He would do anything to protect his crazy smart, sweet, adorable Vulcan.

A wave of calm flooded Jim's mind, stilling him momentarily. He relaxed into it. Jim imagined Spock's mind embracing and shielding his own, powerful Vulcan emotions soothing any wounds as they filtered down to Jim's core. Growing up on Vulcan, one learned to appreciate meditation. It wasn't a pastime he could successfully do for more than 7.63 minutes but he'd tried enough to be able to imagine an inner sanctum. It wasn't quite a garden or a glade or a forest or the ocean or a mountain top or anything else commonly attributed.

He saw the far reaches of space. The swirling inky blackness which called his soul. His mind was the supernova which the dark swallowed greedily. His light briefly showering the expanse and giving life to the stretch of space which led away from himself. For years, only the faintest hint of something extended into Jim's mind. Now that their bond was wide open, Jim could feel the caged emotions banging on their prison walls.

Jim limped towards the stairwell. He let Spock lead him forward. It felt like this was always how it ended up. Spock so far ahead, always waiting for Jim to catch him up. Jim running along behind, getting caught up in the web of life which was too wary to touch the Vulcan. How could anyone be so patient? Was he worth it? Could he live up to everything Spock believed he could be? Could he eventually surpass his Vulcan?

Guesty: Yes. Everything about that review is yes. Have you read Entwine? It's very sexy, very intimate. Lots of fluff, cute Pavel, domestic Spirk. It is ABO. If you're not into mpreg it's probably not your thing... But the first seven chappies sound right down your (our shared) alley.

Yes. KSAdvent is a thing. And I'm doing it. I blame thee.

Guest: I'll work something in for you. Jealous, possessive, protective Spock is fun to write and even better to read. ;)

:D