spohkh | Appointments

"I know we're inside my head, Spock, but I'm not in the mood for being cryptic or for riddles," he growled, watching Spock, his little sun actually turning him around as he sat cross-legged on it, a god carelessly using his creations.

Spock had some modicum of control here as well...

"You need examples? Very well."

Images started to float above their heads, each once more violent than the next. "You blame yourself for every presumed failure. You blame yourself for Vulcan, for the ships lost to Nero, for Pike's death and for the death of members of your crew."

"Jim, you claim that you do not love well, but you love so much that every loss in your life affects you so harshly that you allow it to sweep you away. Instead of dealing with it, you become much like our friend McCoy... deferring to alcohol to forget.
Or in your special case, sex and careless, suicidal actions that one would call having a 'death wish'."

The images swirled by, each one painful. He kept saying he could have saved them, that he should have, that he should have acted sooner. He winced away from them, not wanting to see. The image of Vulcan disappearing still haunted him, and more than once he had pondered Khan's words, and he wondered if, somehow, he could have found a kinder fate for him, and wondered how he could have been so blinded by Marcus.

"Yeah, and what's your point?" he asked, falling back on his usual belligerence, his shields coming up because humor failed him at this juncture.

"My point is, you fault yourself needlessly, and my tolerance for your illogic has come to an end."

Spock started to stalk towards him.

Kirk tense, seeing him stalk towards him. He prepared to bolt, wondering what the Vulcan was up to, only now seeming to realize that Spock had the much stronger mental control than he did, especially right now. God, had this been a really bad idea?

"Really? After all this time? I had bets it would end at six months," he quipped, another fall back, his blue eyes wary.

"Indeed? Perhaps I have been too tolerant with you."

The Vulcan crowds Jim's space, then all the stars go out. They're now on the empty bridge of the Enterprise... back in their uniforms as the viewscreen showed space moving by.

"Like most math problems, you solve it by discovering the root. What do you believe is the root of your problem, Captain? It would seem to me that the root is survival. You feel guilty because you survived. Something that you have done right from birth."

The shift was sudden, throwing him for a moment as he looked around. He licked his lips and settled into his chair, the action oddly comforting to him as the stars swept by. His hands clenched on the arms of his chair, and he looked up at Spock. His look was somewhat accusatory, but another part of him knew what Spock said was true. He felt guilty that he survived when others had not.

He might have been born with that guilt. He had survived, and his father had not. His mother had known it, and she never saw him. She traveled amongst the stars and left Kirk chained to the earth, a burden to his Uncle who had never wanted him.

"Should I not feel guilty?" he demanded of him. "Isn't it true that I could have prevented everything from the last year if I had just listened? Or if I had made another decision?"

"And what would you tell me if I said that I felt guilty for the death of my mother? That if not for me, then maybe Vulcan could have survived. Had I not taken the time to question a cadet who only tried to save a planet."

The Vulcan's eyes narrowed. Jim wasn't the only one harbouring guilt. But out of the two of them, who was dealing with it better? Spock had learned to move on. But he needed Jim to move with him now.

Kirk watched him, realizing what he was saying. But in the months and years that had passed since then, he had never blamed Spock for what happened. If anything, he blamed Nero and his selfish desires that had more or less driven him mad. Spock had done all that he could, though admittedly maybe he could have listened faster. But still...

And maybe that was kind of the point, wasn't it? He had done all he could, and some results he simply couldn't keep from happening. The realization did nothing to ease the feeling in his gut, not yet, but there seemed to be some sort of appeasement, a willingness to at least listen to that rationale rather than totally reject it from the start.

"It doesn't mean that some things that happened weren't my fault, Spock. On some level, I'm responsible for some of the things that happened." Like taking those "torpedos" onto his ship.

"You are a Captain of a starship, every part of your being is meant to be in command of the Enterprise. Of course you are responsible for more than everyone else, and that mistakes will rest on your shoulders."

The Vulcan takes a step closer to Jim in the chair. "But you are far from alone. You internalize everything. Allow the ones you love to share your burden."

His mouth twisted wryly.

"But why should they? I'm the Captain, like you said. Ultimately, they're my decisions and no one else'," he shook his head. "Besides, you have your own burdens, don't you? It's my job as Captain to help you shoulder them, not the other way around."

"Section 4.2 of the starfleet command manual states that though the Captain makes the final decision, it is only made when the rest of the command crew has been made part of the deciding process."

Spock moves, kneeling down beside Jim in the chair. "Jim, you are not alone. You were never meant to be alone. Being Captain does not isolate you from the rest of the crew. You see this, do you not?"

Isolation was protection though. It was his actions, his decisions that caused everything, and if anyone had to go down on this ship it would be himself. His crew came before everything, be it in real, life-and-death danger or against the powers of Starfleet's martial courts. These people, all of them, were his family in a way he had never experienced, and losing even one of them would just... destroy him, as Pike's loss nearly had.

He reached out, finding Spock's fingers and gripping them tightly, trembling despite himself. "Yeah, but... do you forgive me? Did any of them forgive me?" he asked quietly, looking to Spock, pleading in his eyes. Even now, he fully expected to be cast out when he returned home, for his crew to blame him rightly so for the poor decisions that had nearly lead them all to their deaths.

He squeezed tighter, knuckles white, suddenly afraid that to let go would mean that Spock would vanish, leave him behind. And the loss of Spock was not something he could imagine, nor survive.

"Why is it you stay by me?"

There was nothing in this universe that would ever separate Jim from Spock again, not even death...

...because he would follow.
Spock knew what he needed to say, with every pound of his heart in his side he knew the words. But could he do it? It would be denying his Vulcan half, but then, his father admitted it in the end, did he not?

Mind settled, Spock squeezed Jim's fingers back.
"Because I love you."

The word smashed through him, even though a part of him had hoped they would come. Even so, they hit like a physical blow, making his head spin and his chest ache. He had always run from those three little words like they were poison, hooks to be sunk into his flesh and hold him down. Words he didn't truly deserve or want.

But when Spock said them... it was different. His mind flashed back to being separated by such thin, thin glass, and how he had wanted nothing more than to be able to touch Spock one more time as he felt himself slip away. He had asked not to feel, but the truth was he had felt to much in that moment - fear over so many things, anger, shame, and regret. If Spock had just been able to hold him in that final moment, would he have known then?

"Screw you," he growled before reaching out with his other hand to cup the back of Spock's head, grip the short black hair and tug him in sharp and hard.

Their lips crashed together, the kiss anything but elegant, if passionate. It was the kiss of a desperate man, seeking to taste something he wasn't sure he'd ever taste again. It was different from that time beneath the mistletoe, but that made this all the more important to him, the way their lips moved against each other, seeking.

Whatever Spock had imagined, it wasn't this.
He was caught offguard, and growled into the fierce, demanding kiss. Shifting, he caught Jim's fingers, easing the death grip they had on his hands and pulled away from the kiss.

"Was that a normal human response to a confession of love?"
The Vulcan was breathless, but amusement shone in his eyes. "I am not going anywhere Jim. No more running."

"Since when was I ever normal?" he asked him, the tone suggesting he was affronted that Spock would suggest anything of the sort for him. Kirk? Normal. Never. He was extraordinary, and everyone knew it.

He shook his head, going back in for another kiss, slower this time, taking the moment to taste the Vulcan's lips, really feel them against his own and let himself drift in the warmth of the bond he could feel thrumming between them in a high, choral note to his ears.

"I'll always run, you just have to keep up," he murmured. "I'm not a man for settling down."

Spock shifts, practically sitting on the armrest of the chair for a better angle at kissing Jim.
This was better, the edge of desperation and almost punishment lost, leaving behind something sweeter, like a promise. Spock lifts his hands, framing Jim's face as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his mouth moving, tentatively biting at his Captain's lower lip.

"As long as we run together."

"You're getting mushy on me," he warned him, but he did not pull away from the sweet little bite, moving in to meet it with a softer kiss, letting him relish the motion and the feel of it.

He wasn't entirely sure of all this just yet, but... but maybe he owed it to Spock to try. Maybe he owed it to himself. Take it slow, not like the other relationships he'd had, if you wanted to even call them that. Spock wasn't like a human, and maybe that was what he needed in the first place. But that was delving to deep, to fast. No, keep it at the surface for now, just roll with it.

"So... want to get back to the real world?" he asked him. "Not that I don't miss the Enterprise, but..."

Spock hesitates again... He can't help it, he's a creature of habit and he has to make sure.
But then he looks into Jim's face and sees hope. Perhaps they do have a chance... he just doesn't want Jim to run away from him, to leave. To die. The Vulcan shudders as he places an almost desperate kiss to Jim's lips.

He doesn't answer as the world dissolves around them, leaving them once again in Spock's room, the Vulcan practically in Jim's lap as he continues to kiss away.
Every kiss has the same message, over and over again 'never leave me again.'

He hadn't thought that they could move when they meditated, but apparently they could by the fact he suddenly had a Vulcan in his lap, kissing him. His arms slid around Spock, meeting him kiss for kiss, each a tiny little promise he hoped he had the strength not to break.

He held him tight, kissing until he ran out of air. He pulled back, laying his head on Spock's shoulder and panting slightly.

"You're like a damn cat," he muttered. "Sneaking into people's laps."

"Hmm..." Spock doesn't really have an answer for that, but he does hold Jim, his fingers moving over the other man's back and up into hair... massaging the scalp.
Now that he seems to have permission, he can't keep his hands away, as if some barrier has been broken.
He will be patient though, he always is. He will let Jim lead.

He closed his eyes, letting the other pet him, more or less, which was sort of a reversal of his earlier statement of being a cat. Ah well. He let himself enjoy the touches. He wasn't against them, he was never against physical contact, but this time it made him tingle a bit, in ways his other partners had not. That both scared and pleased him, but for the moment he was really to tired to much think on it.

Yes, very tired. Meditation was supposed to rejuvenate, right? Not that it had been a peaceful session.

"Bed," he mumbled, wanting a pillow and covers and - god - sleep.

Spock took that as permission to pick Jim up, and lay him down on the bed... pulling the covers over the man.
Notice that he didn't carry Jim to his own room.

With only a moment of hesitation, Spock climbed in after, laying on his side facing his Captain.
He knew that not much would be happening, but at the same time....everything had changed. Would their friendship be preserved?
Spock had to admit, the amount of unknowns had him... apprehensive.
"Sleep, Jim."

But that was life, Spock. That was a relationship. If you knew everything, well - it wouldn't be much fun would it? Maybe that was another reason Kirk had avoided them. He didn't want the fights, the responsibility of a relationship. He just wanted the fun part, and that had served him for awhile. Looked like he was going to have through that play book out, which was... disconcerting. But he had been through worse, right? Not that this thing was bad.

"You too," he said, reaching out and stroking his jaw lightly with the tips of his fingers. "Night, Spock."

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spohkh - 2014-04-08 14:56 (UTC) - Expand