I remember when Leonard called me down to Sickbay, telling me that Jim was frantic to see me.
I ran.
Leonard almost put Jim in restraints and was preparing a hypospray of sedative, he was about to tear out of his biobed to find me and make certain that I was alive.
I remember his stillness when he saw me. His eyes looking over me. He made no move towards me, he said nothing. Only looked at me.
I went to him and carefully took his hand in mine. Leonard stepped away to give us privacy. Jim lightly touched my fingers, tracing along the joints. Then suddenly grabbed my hand, grip almost painful. I noticed the scars that marked his hands, the way they were raw and veined. I felt the calluses on his palms, the blisters between his fingers, the deep cuts on his knuckles. The way that his hand shook slightly. I raised his hand, bent my head, kissed each finger that was holding mine with a desperation that he did not express on his face except the overbright sheen in his eyes.
I remember he squeezed his eyes shut briefly before opening them again. I put my free hand to his face and he leaned into that touch, closing his eyes again. I remember kissing him. From my perspective, we had seen one another just the other shift, but from his perspective, he had not seen me for at least three weeks, if not more.
That was the last time he let me touch him. After Leonard released him from Sickbay, Jim imposed the ban on touch.
“Do you-” he curled around me. “Do you get it? I didn’t mean-”
I pulled him closer to me.
“I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix it.”
“You are not broken, Jim. It is not a matter of fixing yourself.”
“You still-I killed all those guys-some of them I didn’t even need to-”
“I regret that you were put in that position at all.”
“But you still-? I cut you. I used you. After all you saw?”
Do you doubt me, t’hy’la?
No. But...
“I need to hear you say it.”
He looked away.
That one sentence cost him more than I can know.
I brushed my fingers along his psi points, pressing kisses into his skin. He slowly turned his head to face me again.
Blue eyes with an entire world behind them.
“I love you.”
He closed his eyes.
“I love you now, and I always will. I can give you that promise.”
His entire body tensed.
“You are my captain. I will follow you to whatever end.”
Thoughts long understood but never spoken. The power of words exchanged, a confirmation of what he already knows but is not sure he truly feels.
“You are my captain and that will never change.”
The insufficiency of words to express what is between us, the inability to convey the depth of my devotion to him. Words are paltry, but he needs to hear them.
“Only a captain?” he whispered.
How can I set forth a definition for this man? How can I encapsulate who he is in a single word, a few phrases, perhaps some adjectives. Even Vulcan falls short. T’hy’la is not sufficient, not when he is asking me to ground him.
“I knew who I was, Spock. I knew exactly who I was before you came along. Before the Enterprise happened.”
He knew his boundaries just as I knew mine, he kept himself bordered even after we made love. Partitioned off regions in his mind that he would not show to me, that he refused to revisit himself.
“I could do it. I could be alone. I didn’t fucking care. You changed that.”
He didn’t know, and perhaps still doesn’t know, whether he loves me or hates me for it. He trusts me more than any other, he is willing to do anything for me and the thought has always terrified him. Because he remembers what he has done to survive, he knows what he is made of, what his hands are capable of doing.
“You’re part of me now.”
And some dark corner of his mind whispers that he gave compassion to Nero because he could see himself in the Romulan. Some part of him thinks that he might go crazy if he ever truly lost me-
“No. That is not who you are.”
This doubt is unlike him. But one does not go through the experience of the Games without questioning the mirror image of oneself. The tactics he used to kill some of his opponents were truly gruesome. He had no qualms about using them.
“How do you know? How do you know?”
The answer is simple.
“Because I have seen.”
You granted me full access and I have seen.
“People change.”
“Some things will always remain the same. Of this, I have no doubt.”
Flashes of memory, images of his youth and teenage years. Sometimes he doesn’t recognize himself. Images of Vulcan, of New York, of times before decisions were placed on his shoulders and he chose to act, to accept that responsibility without complaint.
I’ve changed so much.
“As have I.”
Everyone on board this ship has been transformed in some way, forced to evolve and adapt to the circumstances with each mission.
“Perhaps the most telling indicator that I have changed is that I love you.”
He smiled.
“That wasn’t funny.”
“It is true.”
Someday, I will show him. Someday, or over many days, I will show him exactly the ways in which he challenged me and made me question myself. For now, I hold him.
“Say it again,” he whispered. “Tell me again.”
Tell me that this is real, that I’m with you, that you’ll never leave me. Promise me, Spock. Promise me you’ll never leave me.
I will never leave you.
“I will always love you.”
Vulcans never lie. Vulcans never lie.
I have lied for you. But I will never lie to you.
The Enteprise flying through the black of space.
I would kill for you, I would lie for you, I would die for you. I will live for you and I will always love you.
Kiss me.
I did.
Kiss me, mind to mind. I want you here, in my thoughts. I want you.
“I never want to be alone, without you, ever again. I’m yours, Spock. I’m fucking yours.”
“My mind to your mind.”
My thoughts to your thoughts.