Getting away from it all [Mojave]

[genius_level]

Jim lay in the hammock under the twisted old mesquite tree, shirt tossed on the ground next to him. He nursed a beer, his reward for not falling flat on his face after helping muck out the stalls that morning. The neighbor Pike had look after things in his absence had kept on, even after receiving word of his death, and Jim had been glad to strike

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[the ride down]

[cso_spock]

Spock had been sitting in the attic window of Leonard's home, peering down at the people sitting in the grass on the lawn across the road while eating the last of Leonard's food (what had once been a box of cereal), when he heard Leonard return from Medical for the day. He could tell by the look on Leonard's face and the emotions he leaked into the room what the cause of his distress was

[dctr_mccoy]

"They're fantastic, especially the iced ones. They're my favorite," Leonard told him, frowning at the sight of the empty box. "Or they were," he sighed, wishing he'd picked up a second box. He didn't want to complain that Spock was eating, his appetite back in action as the drugs made their way out of the Vulcan's system, replacing the nausea.

But now that meant he had a hungry and irritable alien in his vehicle, and that was testing his patience. Glancing down at the communicator at Spock's hip, he asked, "Any news from Jim?" Leonard still couldn't believe that Jim had just up and left. He was sure that Jim had outgrown that sort of behavior, the running away and taking off from his duties (and from his doctor's strict instructions).

[cso_spock]

Spock checked his communicator before replacing it at his hip. "No."

Still hungry, he started rummaging through the bag again, looking for something else to eat. He skirted around a small package of chocolate-and-cream cookies, contemplated a package of mints before deciding against it, and finally pulled out a hard-boiled (goose) egg. Carefully, he half-unraveled it from its cooling plastic and started to eat it in slightly smaller bites. To make it last.

"...would you like a list of possible activities Jim could be doing at this time, or would you prefer to remain ignorant?"

[dctr_mccoy]

Like a damned cat. Out of the corner of his eye, Leonard watched Spock rifling through the grocery bags with an unsatisfied look on his face. When Spock finally seemed to find something, he spoke again.

Leonard shook his head, making a face. "I don't wanna think about the things he could be doing. Jim's always done whatever he damned well wanted, to hell with what the rest of us want." Hadn't that led to the warp core incident? An uncharitable feeling ran through Leonard, easier to be grumpy than remember that terrible feeling of Jim being dead.

Possible activities. Leonard recalled cleaning Jim's apartment and what he found there. "As long as I don't find any more panties laying around. I'm drawing the line there."

[cso_spock]

The land around the fell away from golden to brown, brush to dirt, and Spock felt a knot growing in his stomach. He remembered this change, remembered sitting in a nice(r) car with unfamiliar music playing, and he remembered the turn coming up on the lonely road. The property gate coming up. Then the house.

It hurt. He hated this pain, no matter what Leonard had tried to tell him about it, and yet he was itching to leave the jeep. The moment the engine sound died, he stepped out, paused to look at the ranch - and the half-open garage - and then he stepped into the ranch.

Spock walked quickly, not wanting to linger and dwell (and hurt more), and upon not seeing Jim in any of the rooms, he stepped out into the back, where the patio furniture, the barbecue, and hammock were. There he was.

Spock walked over, not bothering to hide the crunch of his shoes on the dirt. He folded his hands behind his back and peered over Jim. He noted the beer, the old plaid t-shirt. That non-beard. "...Jim."

[genius_level]

Jim was almost dozing when he heard the footsteps. He cracked an eye open and looked up. "Spock." He took another drink of beer, tipping the bottle back to get the last drops. It was his last one. "You look like you're feeling better."

He put the bottle down but didn't bother reaching for his shirt, which was piled next to the empties on the ground. "Bones with you?" he asked, wincing as he shifted his weight back onto the hammock.

[cso_spock]

"As are you." He shifted to look down and count the bottles sitting on the ground. He picked up the shirt and dropped it onto Jim's chest. "He is, and he will be displeased to see that you are both drunk and probably sunburned."

[dctr_mccoy]

"He'd better not be either of those," Leonard growled as he followed Spock's voice. The Vulcan had just exited the jeep without any regard to the bags of food or luggage, and Leonard just finished dumping everything onto the kitchen counter.

The casual and warm ranch-house wasn't what he expected from Admiral Pike. Hard to imagine Jim owning this now, it wasn't what one would expect from the brash young captain. But Leonard knew better than anyone that Jim defied expectation.

Shirtless and drinking beer, though - he'd seen this before. "You promised me that I sprung you from the hospital that you'd rest at home."

[cso_spock]

And once again, it seemed as if Jim and Leonard had bounced off each other in the wrong way - not the first time - and Spock wondered, also not for the first time, if there was any chance for them at all. Nyota seemed to think so

[dctr_mccoy]

He'd never tell Jim this, but truth be told - this place seemed more like Spock than Jim. Maybe it was the heat, the warmth outside, the light and the windows. The way Spock glided with familiarity through the house. Leonard has spotted the signs of withdrawal as soon as Spock began exhibiting them, but he'd let it go, wanting to see what Spock did with those feelings of grief beginning to well up inside him. He gave the Vulcan a few minutes then stood, walking toward the back.

Fuck. Leonard wasn't sure what he expected - but the sight of Spock prone on the master bed, arms wrapped around a pillow wasn't it. He hesitated on what was obviously a private moment, but he could hear Spock in light distress and there was a part of him that desperately wanted to make that hurting stop, any way he could

[cso_spock]

He had tried - he was still trying - to calm himself, because hyperventilating and acidifying his blood wasn't going to help. Letting these thoughts of grief circle wouldn't end it any sooner. But nothing he tried to implement rationally worked, either, not while he was on Christopher's bed, in Christopher's room, surrounded by everything but the man himself.

Spock's breathing stuttered at Leonard's touch, unsure if he wanted him there, no matter how soothing his hand was. Eventually, he rolled onto his side, facing Leonard, and the rest of his body curled up tight around the king pillow against his chest. "I shouldn't have come," he said, muffled, his entire face buried in the pillow.

[dctr_mccoy]

It was unusual, seeing Spock like this - vulnerable, emotional. There was no pain keener than this loss, the sharp pain made worse right now by the constant reminders of his loved one. Maybe Spock shouldn't have come, maybe he shouldn't be here, but this is where he was, and Leonard was not going to let him run away from this.

"You're not alone, Spock," he murmured, leaning his body toward Spock's. Bowing his head lower, he pushed the bangs off Spock's forehead as he spoke. "Talk to me. Tell me what you are feeling." Maybe Spock had never done this, gotten it 'off his chest'. Vulcans tended to keep it inside, stoically. Emotionless.

That wasn't going to work this time - the human in him wouldn't let this pain be buried. "I know you don't believe me, but talking about it, your memories of him will make you feel better."