James T. Kirk (ignoretheodds) wrote in the100, @ 2016-01-23 12:23:00 |
|
|||
He was emotional. How could he not be? Seeing Christine's daughter, Christopher's daughter had affected him. All the memories came flooding back. The Narada, the attack on San Francisco, everything. He needed to talk to Spock, needed to tell him everything. He needed Spock's level head and perhaps a distraction. Jim rushed back into the room, throwing open the door. "Spock! Spock? Are you here?" he called, entering their bedroom and throwing his coat down on the bed. "Spock, you will never believe what happened." Spock was in their room, reading one of the books that he had found in the library. He was reviewing the history of the Earth that was now, a remarkably boring endeavor for anyone not half-Vulcan. But it was something to do between the interminably long blizzards and the pointless mullings over maps that couldn't be fixed until the snows melted. "Jim?" Spock looked up from his book, curious. It wasn't -- well, no, generally, the captain did have a habit of bursting into rooms, filled with excitement. "What is it?" Jim pulled the book out of Spock's hands and leaned down to kiss him tenderly before settling down in Spock's lap. "Christine has a kid. Pike's kid. Admiral Pike and Christine. Which is old news, but the kid is new. Apparently she was going to tell him the night of the attack." As quick as he'd gotten into Spock's lap, he was out of it, pacing the room and running his hands through his hair. "She's the spitting image of him, Spock. The hair, the face.. it's…" it was too much and Jim sank down onto the bed with a heavy sigh. Spock watched as Jim paced the room, processing what the other man had said. "I… I don't know what I am expected to say," he said, finally. "It is logical that…should Christine and the Admiral have offspring, that the Admiral...that their child should resemble him." Spock suspected that the source of Jim's agitation, however, had little to do with the logic of genetics. "I was not aware that they were involved in that… in that sense." "I don't know. I mean, maybe nothing. Maybe tell me what's logical or illogical," Jim babbled, hands running through his hair again. "I just- it's like-" Jim's words got stuck in his throat as he sat down next to Spock, threading his hand through Spock's and squeezing tightly. "I knew they were involved. I mean, it was after the Narada.. Chapel was his nurse and it's understandable. But Pike had some dark days then and well, I think Christine helped him through them. It's just.. looking at Lauren - that's the kid's name - it…" He sucked on his lower lip, squeezing Spock's hand tightly, unable to process all the emotions swirling in him. The resurgence of grief at having such a reminder of Pike present, mixed with the joy and protectiveness about that child, he wanted to protect her with everything he had, just like Pike had protected him. Memories of his own childhood, of what he had seen of Spock's in the film, of wanting a better childhood for Lauren… of maybe wanting a Lauren of his own someday. The ache at seeing Pike's admiral's bars around Christine's neck and realizing how much he still missed the man who had been like a father to him. Suddenly, Spock found himself immersed in the storm of emotions that were Jim. He felt a similar sense of loss, and joy, and … He pulled back at where their hands were joined, aware that what he was feeling was not his to know. "I… I understand," he said, immediately. His words were filled with the emotions that seemed to hang in the air between them, almost tangible. "I am… I am sorry." Jim wasn't prepared for the sudden lack of contact, of the change in Spock's voice. He glanced at him in confusion before his brain caught up. "Oh.. shit.. sorry.. I didn't mean to just overload you. You should warn me when I'm doing that." "You are upset because Christine's daughter reminds you of the admiral," said Spock, turning the conversation from his own discomfort. He reached to touch the captain's arm, conscious of avoiding outright contact. "And this is upsetting because of how close you were to the admiral, and because of how much we have lost since that day. But it is also…" Spock looked at Jim, trying to parse what he understood of human behavior. "Exciting? I find I should remind you that the mistakes of the past are not necessarily those of the future." Jim closed his eyes. It was still unnerving to have Spock lay things out so plainly, but it was refreshing, calming. His hand moved into a fist before he forced it to relax. "Sad, more than upset," Jim said with a heavy sigh. "He shouldn't have died. I should have- There must have been something I could have done. And Lauren.. well, there's nothing sad about Lauren, she just adorable and precious and beautiful and innocent-" There was another sigh as his hand spread out against the blanket covering the bed. "It's just.. I don't know, kids.. Christine with a kid.. it just brought up lots of feelings…" Jim turned his head and kissed Spock's neck. "You should meet her though.." Spock did not immediately respond. His thoughts were torn between the turmoil that he had felt and the need to comfort someone he loved. He knew the Admiral well enough to have known him at his death, in the only way a Vulcan could truly know another, telepathically. And yet, those were not memories he wanted to revisit, twisted as they were with his feelings for Nyota and Jim -- and Khan. "There is nothing you could have done." He spread his hand out next to Jim's until their fingers were barely touching. He wanted to say everything in that simple gesture, that he trusted Jim in spite of all that he knew was lurking just beneath the surface. And yet Spock had been hesitant about his abilities, about the accidental brushes with Jim's mind that were inevitable. Among Vulcans, there were ceremonial formalities, bonds, and traditions, but humans were different. Jim was different. "But I will meet Lauren. She must be a remarkable child, considering her heritage…" Jim gave Spock a small smile and fought the urge to take Spock's hand in his. "I'm sure. I mean she was asleep when I was there, but.." The way he talked about the girl was the same way he talked about his crew. Like they were his family to protect. He would never be able to accept Spock's words - there must have been something he could have done. He should have noticed sooner, warned Christopher. "Heritage isn't everything though," Christopher said quietly. "She deserves to be able to choose her own path in life, whatever her parents." He glanced down at both their hands. "Do you ever- nah, forget it." "It is true that our parents do not define us," agreed Spock. "But they may guide us to know our path." He looked at Jim, seeing at once that same spirit that had defied the kobayashi maru not once but thrice. "I always thought that my father had married my mother out of a sense of duty, and that I was meant to follow in his footsteps… I know now that is not the case. If I had not joined Starfleet, if I had not remained…" Spock looked down at their hands, but he didn't say anymore. Nor did he press Jim for what he had wanted to ask. "I'm glad you did, Spock," he said quickly, Jim's hand moving without thinking to cover Spock's and squeeze reassuringly. He brought Spock's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Very, very glad. I know I've been an ass, but you're… hell, you're my everything, Spock.." He hadn't intended to make any such declarations, but then Spock tended to bring out unexpected things in him. Which generally tended to be a good thing. And as unexpected as it was, still easier to talk about than the thoughts of children which were bouncing about in his head. "I love you, Spock." Spock felt the tips of his ears turning a faint green at Jim's declaration. He pressed his palm into the other's hand, his own sense of uncertainty and love filtering through their grasp. "Jim, I…" He knew that he loved the man sitting next to him, and because he knew that, he could not ask what he wanted to ask. The words were caught in his throat, uncertain. Instead, he said, "I do love you. I do not want you to think that it could be otherwise." "I don't doubt you," Jim said, kissing Spock's hand again before he caught sight of Spock's ears. There was something about the way Spock blushed that Jim found extremely endearing and arousing. He shifted up onto his knees and brushed his lips against Spock's ear. Jim was kissing his ear, which only made the half-Vulcan go more green. "Captain," said Spock, a hand reaching to touch Jim's hair, "I would…I would very much like to meld with you." It was not a request that Spock had ever made, and yet, it seemed right. It seemed like this was the insight that his older self had very much wanted to convey to him, all those months ago. At the request, Jim pulled back slowly, just enough to look Spock in the eyes as his hands came up to cup Spock's face. He knew enough about Vulcan customs to know this wasn't a request that came easily to Spock. He licked his lips nervously. "I'm a mess, Spock, you know that, but.. yes, if you're sure.." "I am, but I need…" He met Jim's gaze. "I need you to be certain. I know this is not done, among your people. I know…" He knew the consequences of melding with someone, that they were not always pleasant. And yet, Jim had melded with the elder Spock, and he was now sitting before him. "That it is not always a positive experience." "Spock. Commander. I know the risks.. the consequences.. I've been through it before." He hadn't been prepared for it then, hadn't understood. But this was different. Jim's thumb brushed against Spock's cheek before he leaned in for a tender kiss. "I'm certain. Yes, Spock." Spock did not smile, but for a Vulcan, he looked remarkably pleased at Jim's acquiescence. Remarkably pleased and nervous. He put a hand to Jim's temple, thinking of what it might be like to at last be able to share his thoughts without words, without the difficulty that he found in translating his own thoughts into a language foreign from his own. And then… It was less of an explosion so much as it was a slow sinking into each other, as Spock focused on the connection between them, on his own memories of what he thought when he was with Jim. Of all of the joy and love and possibility that he felt in the man before him. Even prepared, knowing what was coming, it was still overwhelming. Kirk gasped when he felt the meld start, his hand sliding down to rest on Spock's thigh and squeezing. The sensations, it was… well, he'd felt it before, but this was different somehow. It all flowed out, from that first moment before the panel after the Kobayashi Maru, when he'd felt both loathing and attraction for the Vulcan, to their time on the Narada, to when he thought he was dying, the words that he didn't say then, but he already felt. He would do anything for the man in front of him. He'd kill for him, die for him, leave Starfleet if Spock asked. He'd even give up the Enterprise for him. Jim felt Spock's emotions, deeper than he'd expected, in some way and he shifted his position, wrapping his arms around Spock because he needed to be physically close to the other man right now. They were blending in such a way that it was the most raw thing Kirk had ever felt, and oddly, erotic. He wanted Spock. In every way he could have him. There was no going back from this. Spock let Jim's memories and thoughts wash over him, supplementing them with his own. There was his own memory of how he'd disliked that upstart cadet for defying the system, for not seeing the true value of the test. And there were his memories of the mining vessel, of the willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater purpose of their mission, which was always at the forefront of everything that he did. It was the reason that he had been able to program the Kobayashi Maru so well. And then there was Khan, the realization that he'd been willing to do anything to save his friend. That he had acted as Jim Kirk might have, defying all reason and logic to save one individual. It went against every Vulcan principle that he knew, and yet… In that exact moment, he thought that was how they were meant to be. The only illogic in that was that his older self had seen it first. He let the meld fade slightly around them, pushing back mentally to be able to pull Jim closer physically. It was as though Spock shared Jim's need, as though they had come together to agree on this very principle. And that thought made the otherwise orderly and focused half-Vulcan very much not so. |