Spock pulls out of the bond, mind racing through what he has to do. It takes 10 seconds to run back to the bridge, but time seems to be moving faster than usual. Impossible, Spock knows, but his mind pounds out with each step, have to save Jim, save Vulcan, save Jim, Vulcan, home. He skids onto the bridge, and everyone looks up at the interruption
"Meester Spock!" Chekov's face lights up. "Do we have a plan?"
Spock nods tightly. "We will fire a torpedo at the enemy, and the blast should provide enough impact to push the ship out of orbit. The Captain will override impulse navigation on board." The Vulcan betrays no anxiety regarding the plan.
A crackling transmission from the engineering deck sounds. "Sir, we cannae locate the Captain, much less the ship's position. We will blast the Captain apart!" Scotty's voice filters in, frantic.
Spock sucks in a ragged breath. Nobody comments on the rare show of emotion, but a silent understanding befalls the crew.
"We have no time to spare. These are the Captain's orders," Spock says. He blinks, allowing himself a pause as his lids are closed. Half a second to remember that, above all, he is now commander of the Enterprise.
"Mr. Chekov, calculate the firepower we need in the torpedo. Mr. Scott, I need the best lock you can give me on the enemy ship's position.
Scotty is nothing less than a miracle worker, but the universe has its limits, or so it seems when he speaks again.
"I cannae lock onto the enemy's position to higher than a ten-percent level of confidence!"
Spock realises, even without Chekov's confirmation, that that is too low to carry out the torpedo mission. The range of the torpedo blast is too narrow a field, like a dart aiming for a moving bullseye. Even Jim, were he on board, would not have gone for a plan like that. Instead, the man would have found some other way to bend the rules of this universe. Or, throw himself headlong into the fire to save everyone else. Spock hesitates, mulls over the possibility. He would never condone it if it were Jim's idea, but now...it is his own.
"The Enterprise," Spock says. Heads turn. "We have to use the entire ship. Mr. Scott, will the ship be sufficient, for that ten-percent confidence in the enemy's position?"
Static crackles over the transmission. "That is crazy! We cannae use-"
"Is it enough, Mr. Scott?" Spock interrupts, deadly calm. He waits far too long for a response.
"...Aye, it is."
"Then I ask the crew of the Enterprise to risk their lives for Vulcan. We must protect the species," Spock announces, and it occurs to him that not everyone will be willing to sacrifice fewer numbers for more lives, even if the math works out. It says something about his years working alongside Jim, that he has understood human empathy. A stride over to the Captain's chair, and the Vulcan has his finger on the intercom button.
"This is Spock speaking. We will have to use the Enterprise to intercept the trajectory of the enemy ship. I understand that not everyone will be willing to sacrifice their lives for my species, and I do not assume it to be your duty. If you wish to leave the ship, you have one minute to do so via the escape pods."
When he turns, Chekov is already working with Sulu to navigate the ship into the path of the enemy, faces tight with determination. Uhura is staring at him from her station, eyes welling with emotion. Despair, Spock thinks is what she must be feeling. His first assessment is wrong, he realises a second later. Respect.
"I make the same offer to everyone on the command bridge. You may leave now. Quickly, if you wish," Spock says. They have a minute and a half before impact, his internal timer informs.
Sulu wraps up calculations with Chekov, and shifts his hand to the throttle lever. says. He pauses, and looks back to the First Officer.
"We know, Sir. We will stay till the end," Sulu firmly declares, and bravery looks like a weathered cloak on the shoulders of the once-timid helmsman, worn one too many times.
"Starboard facing the enemy, Mr. Sulu. Fire on my command." Spock settles into the Captain's chair, buckles his seat belt. It has not helped much in most other crashes the Enterprise has been through, but Spock supposes any small percentage of safety is a plus. The ship shifts on impulse power, aligning itself in the path of the oncoming enemy.
The lift opens with a ding that makes everyone jump.
"Spock, this is madness. I did not sign on with Starfleet to be captained by a hobgoblin attempting to be Jim version 2." Bones steps out, face red, sweat lining his forehead.
"Dr. McCoy. Secure yourself with a seatbelt at once. We have thirty seconds," Spock raises an eyebrow at the angry doctor.
"Well, of course I'm going to put on a seatbelt, you crazy bastard." Huffing, Bones picks the spare seat on deck, swearing the entire time.
"If we die, Spock…" Bones looks up, eyebrows pinched. "You're building me a new medbay after this. With your own hands."
"I am sure a new medbay can be arranged. Why did you come up here, doctor?" Spock enquires politely. He is aware they have twenty seconds to spare.
"I'm not dying alone in the medbay, you stupid Vulcan," Bones growls, looking away. Spock pauses, considers the man's clenched jaw. Ten seconds.
"Then perhaps you will consider staying alive in the company of friends." If Spock catches a brightness in the eyes of the old doctor when he looks back, he makes no comment of it.
"Sir, it's time," Sulu calls back, hand on the throttle and eyes locked ahead.
"Mr. Scott, are we locked onto target?" Spock asks.
"Another second…aye! I have them!" Scotty yells over the intercom.
"On my command," Spock nods at Sulu. There is a second to spare for him to consider what might happen after this day. Hypothetically, of course. Those of the USS Enterprise who have freely chosen to give their lives to a species that is not their own, will be commended and recognized for their sacrifice. Vulcan will forever be in their debt, should the plan work. An entire species, saved with the lives of a ship's crew.
But not Jim. Jim is Spock's alone to sacrifice for. Nobody has walked as far away from Jim as Spock has, only to return because being burned by the sun is somehow more tolerable than the chill of the night. Spock supposes it is only penance. If he survives this trial by fire, perhaps it would be time for a new start.
"Fire, Mr. Sulu."
They create a crater in the middle of Vulcan desert. Sulu uses one engine and manages to land their broken ship with a crash that, at the very least, does not cause the entire mess of metal and fuselage to explode into flames.
"Hey! On the bright side, we landed just south of Vulcan starport!" Scotty yells, crackling over the intercom.
"On the bright side, we're alive, no thanks to this idiot," Bones grumbles, unbuckling his seatbelt and stumbling out, face green.
Spock blinks, head still swirling from the steep dive they took down to planet surface. The plan had worked, their starboard guns hitting the enemy with enough fire power in one consolidated shot to knock them off their flight path. The ship had rippled into clear view, cloaking shields falling away. Though they managed to shift the enemy spacecraft just enough to bring it out of orbit, the Enterprise had been too close by that point and the entire starboard side had been razed, taking the engines down. From what it looked like, Jim had managed to take over impulse, as the ship's flight path swung out of orbit.
Jim.
"Nyota," Spock turns to look at the only other person he calls by first name. Their friendship is deep, despite how much time has passed, and he doesn't have the mental strength to censor the tremor in his voice. She will understand, he thinks.
"Hold on Spock, I almost have him," Uhura says. There is only the sound of static for a long moment. Then, the Captain's voice rings through the deck, transmission poor and broken by static.
"GODDAMN…SCOTTY…I SWEAR IF THIS…HELLO...BEAM ME UP…I HATE THIS THING!" A loud thwack of communicator meeting human thigh is heard.
"I have him, I have him! Locking on in 3...2...now!" Scotty shouts. Spock is in the lift before anyone can stop him. It takes barely a few seconds to get to the transporter, and then there he is, Jim, alive in the flesh in the transporter bay.
Bones skids into the bay behind Spock, swearing something fierce. They watch as Jim sways on his feet, head tilted up to the ceiling.
"And...right about...now," Jim smiles. A loud explosion is heard, loud enough to shake the Vulcan ground and loosen dust off the ceiling.
"That's the enemy...boom," Jim giggles, and Spock realises too late that there is blood trickling down the back of the Captain's head. Jim hits the ground with a thud, a silly grin still pasted on his face. Bones yells.
Jim drifts in and out of vague consciousness. Sometimes he dreams of strange alien life forms, glowing flowers and pulsating beetles the size of his hands. Other times, he dreams of Spock's face, hovering dangerously close to his own, pinched with worry, he is sure of it. Once, he dreams of his mother.
"Mama, don't you miss Papa?" A young Jim Kirk questions, running into Winona Kirk's lap. He wrestles with the layers of her dress until he has made a comfortable seat.
"Of course I do dear," his mother says, burrowing her face into her son's golden curls. Babies have a smell, like that of warm blankets and their mother's milk. Jim is beginning to lose that smell, and Winona is not ready for it to happen just yet.
"Well, how can you love Papa when he is not here?" Jim asks. He talks too much, asks too many questions, he knows because the other kids tell him to shut up at school. But his mother is always patient with him.
Winona laughs, eyes creasing in a smile. "I will always love your Papa. When he is here, and when he is not here. Love is not so weak as to disappear with space."
Jim lays his head against his mothers bosom. He hears her heartbeat, strong, calm, and though he does not know it yet, slowing with the years.
"I love you, Mama."
"I love you too, darling."
Are you sure his heartbeat is not too weak, doctor?
Yes, and stop questioning my medical capabilities! He just needs rest.
It has been nearly three days.
I know that damn well, Spock. I can count the days as well as any Vulcan.
Jim opens his eyes. A clay-red ceiling looms above, jewelled stones inlaid in a celestial pattern.
"Jim! You're awake!"
Jim turns his head to the left to see Bones, a three-day-old beard decorating the doctor's face.
"Wha-" Jim croaks out and then immediately coughs up a fit as his parched throat protests the sudden use of vocal chords. Bones lifts up a jar (made of clay, oddly) and pours a cup of water for Jim.
"You fainted after we beamed you back. Concussion, but no lasting damage. You have a head of steel, I swear," Bones mutters, helping Jim up to drink.
"Also, your darling green hobgoblin is standing over there," Bones nods to the corner of the room. "If he looks greener than usual, it's because he's been worrying himself stupid at your bedside for three days."
"Two-point-seven days, doctor," Spock replies, ignoring everything else Bones said.
"Oh, shut up." Bones rolls his eyes and shifts so that Spock can take his place at Jim's side. He is an astute man, despite his temper and generally unpleasant disposition. Which is why he grabs the clay jug and makes to leave the room.
"I'll get more water."
Spock watches as Jim finally has the time to examine his surroundings.
"Where are we?"
"My childhood home," Spock says. "My parents thank you for saving Vulcan, and requested you stay here to recover from your injuries."
"It's nice. The ceiling is beautiful," Jim comments. The decor of the room is stunning, carvings imprinted onto each piece by skilled artisans. For all that Vulcans speak of logic, they too take pride in things like art and culture.
Jim turns to his other side and looks out of the window, light linen curtains framing a view of Vulcan star port. Sunlight bounces off the hull of the USS Enterprise. Workers buzz around the starship, adding new sheet metal to fix up what he can see to be a gaping hole on the starboard side.
"Wrecked my ship, Spock?" Jim chuckles.
"We had to use the ship directly in the line of the enemy's flight to stop it," Spock explains like he is providing the weather forecast, and Jim stares at him, eyebrows raised.
"What? I thought the plan was just to shoot a torpedo? I heard a loud boom!"
"The superior cloaking capabilities of the enemy meant we needed a larger range. Using the ship was the only method available. I allowed the crew to leave if they did not wish to risk their lives."
"Thought only I'm capable of crazy plans," Jim says, almost awed. The corner of his mouth lifts; he's almost a little bit proud.
"I pulled impulse once I felt the course shift. The enemy found me as soon as I did that. New species, by the way, though you probably found out already," Jim ponders. "Anyway, turns out the bond does something funny to people who try psionic attacks on me, knocked them right out. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Jim appraises his Exec.
Spock recalls the mental shields he had erected, just in case, in Jim's mind. "I might be responsible for that." He would recommend Jim a session of meditation to resolve any side effects of the psionic attacks, but he has seen Jim ignore the good doctor enough times to know that it would be a pointless effort.
"Hmm, that's interesting. And useful," Jim considers.
"I have submitted our mission reports. I also applied to Starfleet, requesting to be reinstated as First Officer of the USS Enterprise," Spock says, and watches as Jim's face starts to look like he got a second concussion. "On the condition that they make you the Captain again, since without being in relatively close proximity we will both feel rather detrimental effects from the bond stretching too thin."
Jim looks pained for a moment, but then the mask falls back into place. He grins.
"That's why you stayed by my bedside? Afraid of a little pain, Spock?" Jim teases, and the question sounds too familiar. They are like two ends of a spring, Spock and Jim, testing how far they can be before they have to come together again. One day it might break him, Jim thinks, but not yet.
"While Vulcans have superior pain tolerance to humans, the pain of a bond breaking...for a second time, would be intolerable, or so I am led to believe. Of course, there is no precedence for such an event," Spock replies, and he too is careful, selecting his words after some consideration.
"I suppose Nogura won't be able to get around that one," Jim laughs. He is still Vice Admiral Jim Kirk, but oh, does it feel good to finally get the better of the brass.
"So, you're staying, Spock? For how long?" They have had years of previcarating, and the risk has always been too large. Yet now Jim asks. There is nothing special about this moment; they have been at Death's doors too many times in their command career. Perhaps he is simply ready to hear the answer. Love is not so weak as to disappear with space. Jim is reminded of his mother's voice in a dream. If Spock leaves again, he thinks he will know how to continue living this time.
"For the foreseeable future, it seems," Spock says softly, and Jim's heart soars.
He has to be sure, however. "Because of the bond?" Jim asks.
"I am staying," Spock replies slowly, feeling the weight of each word roll over his tongue. "Because I want to." And love, love, love has never been their problem. Jim reaches over, tracing a finger down the Vulcan's arm. He reaches Spock's hand, and lifts it, interlacing their fingers. It feels heavier than his own. Warmer.
"Okay. Good." Jim lifts his eyes up to Spock's. They are bright, and Spock gives Jim's hand a small squeeze. Things will never be perfect, not with how life usually goes, but this will be enough. The Enterprise sits behind them in the port, being readied for their next mission. And Jim thinks, exploring space with Spock has never felt more like a new beginning.
AN: this last chapter was written 4 years after all the rest of this story. If my writing style has changed, I hope it is not too jarring. I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting, thanks for sticking around if you did. My muse is strongest when I am at my lowest in life, and in recent years I have found my joy. For that reason, I no longer write. But I hope this story can heal and help as I have been healed by many other fanfiction from this community.
With love.