[TOS Cabin, Risa] -- [Spock, Spock, and Kirk]

[kirktastic]

    Kirk looked up to the cabin that was rapidly approaching and killed the speed on the cycle. Getting up here had been awesome (and definitely reminded him of other fun activities that had occurred up in the mountains recently) - it was all twisting, curved roads that let him fly without wings.

Too bad this conversation was going to absolutely suck, at least that was what his gut was telling him.
 
    He cut off the engine and nudged the stand into place, sliding off the leather seat with a fond pat to the chrome. He had been wondering for a while now if there was a way to sneak a bike up onto the Enterprise... He'd enjoy it while he could, at least.

He walked up to the cabin, grinning a little at the very firm wooden door. He knocked on it, hair messed up by the wind, the very beginnings of scruff on his jaw that said he had to take the folical supressor soon. The leather jacket hung on his body well, partially covering a white tee shirt and sitting over a pair of jeans and sneakers.

The knock sounded at the door. James. Spock rose to answer it, leaving his counterpart who had arrived on time. Punctual as expected. Neither of them required the small talk with which humans would have occupied themselves as they waited.

As expected. "James. Come in."

"Never going to get used to someone calling me James." Kirk gave that normal grin of his, stepping into the cabin and glancing around. Nice. Rustic. Simple. Bones probably would have loved it, but fuck there was no way he was about to trade off their private bit of beach for anything. He looked over to Spock, the younger one, and realized suddenly that having two of them in the same room was about to get very, very confusing. "Hey, Spock." He called out to the younger, wondering if it would be awkward after their conversation the other night.

Spock looked over to him from his position on the couch. He wore dark carmine button-up shirt with dark jeans,  covered over by a brown sport coat. Slightly less casual than what he had worn at the beach, mostly because the mountains were colder, though the fire kept most of the chill out of the room. "Jim," He acknowledged him with a slight nod. Interesting jacket. He doubted he would need it soon.

Their casual clothes struck the elder Spock, suddenly. He was... still in uniform. He had few civilian items on board his own Enterprise, but the traditional Vulcan tunics reminded him most agreeably of home. And kept him warm. Spock mentally shook his head, refocused on the issue at hand - James had, no doubt, made his decision about the Christopher Pike in the brig yet....

Perhaps it was the presence of his own new bond. But Spock knew, with a clarity as certain as he had known Jim and Leonard were the other pieces of himself, that if Pike were killed his Spock would sense it. And... respond poorly.

He looked again at the two young men sitting by the fire. Then took the third chair Jim had dragged in from another room so that he and Spock and Leonard could relax together. "I am gratified by your presence." Spock spoke to both of them. "I apologize for interrupting your shore leave."

Kirk flopped down into that third chair like he would have his captain's chair - a loose limb sprawl that always seemed to take up every bit of space. "Trust me, its already been interrupted. Several times." He looked almost grumpy for a second, thinking about a mix of the Romulan he didn't even know what to do with - he had to talk to Prime still - and the communication from his mother. "It's fine."

Spock eyed the way Jim flopped--apparently it wasn't limited to comfortable captain's chairs, but applied to all soft surfaces. Then he looked to his counterpart. "I intended to drive through the mountains, regardless of whether you had called us here."

"A most efficient location, then." Spock was not entirely pleased that they had met here, in this sanctuary Jim had arranged, yet it was expedient. And Jim and Leonard had not minded when he asked for time to speak with James and Spock. "I wish to report my findings. After a conversation with my counterpart," here he nodded to young Spock, "I found need to speak with the criminal Pher in your brig. I was able to do so." He would mention the lax security another time.

At the mention of his elder self meeting with the alternate Pike, all the relaxed energy he had been enjoying switched into tension that ran down from the tightening of his jaw to the set back of his shoulders, ultimately ending in the tightening of his hands into fists in his lap. He preferred not to look at either of them, though the red-orange flames of the fire were not any great comfort either. They couldn't have done anything like what he had done, or else his counterpart's defenses were far stronger than he had ever imagined. Though, Spock did not pose the immediate question, because he could predict the wave of anger boiling up in the only human present. They'd get the yelling done, first.

Kirk did not react in exactly the same way they thought he would. His body posture tightened as his mind raced with a thousand thoughts all at once. Blue eyes narrowed to slits and darkened to grey like a storm over the sea. His voice was tight when he spoke. "You went down there. Into the brig. Against my orders. AFTER what we talked about." Surprisingly calm, but that somehow made it all that much worse. He was glaring definite death in the direction of the elder Spock.

He had predicted James' anger. Yet, when it came down to it, Spock was not a creature bound by orders - he was bound by loyalty. Respect, friendship, these were the things that kept him in lock-step with regulation on a daily basis. Still, James deserved this much. "I had thought... perhaps to kill him for his crime."

On the former subject, Kirk would have disagreed anyway considering Spock was on the Enterprise's bankroll. "You were pissed off, and so decided to fucking go against everything you told me about what happened with him," A sharp point in the younger Spock's direction. "What. Happened?" His fingers tightened into fists, his voice just a growl. Oh yes, very much pissed the hell off.

Spock had faced his own Jim's anger before - perhaps in any universe it would be Pike who created the circumstances of such a thing. It was... not an enjoyable experience. Spock did not bother to deny his own anger at Pike's crime. However, it was not anger that had taken him to the brig but the loose threads of information he had found, the hint of a planted compulsion in the younger Spock's mind, the need for more information that had moved him to risk the growing friendship with James.

"I am more fully aware of the extent of the interaction between my young counterpart and that Pike than you would understand, James. Yet there were... hints. I considered seeking his death yet such an act would not be logical to pursue on my own. I spoke with him, requested information, which he gave. He offered a mind meld, which was most illuminating. I have done nothing to alter the recordings - I am surprised your own security staff have not contacted you with the fact of my visit."

"You fucking did WHAT!?" There went the calm-anger from a minute ago. Kirk was on his feet, fury in his eyes and face. "You did not just tell me you melded with him. I won't even believe my ears because I can't think that you would be so fucking stupid to do that after what already happened!" He stepped closer to the elder Spock, fingers tight on one fist as the other gestured to tap his own temple several times. "Have you both lost your minds?!" The absolute fear-anger-concern was pressing hard against their not fully developed bond, raging blue-white hot.

Spock did not take the news with any more mental complacency than Kirk did. His hands were already tight into fists, but now his nails dug unpleasant crescents into the skin of his palm. Melding. Melding. After what they both knew, in explicit detail, what had happened between himself and this Pike. While he would not use the exact wording that Kirk was employing in this situation, he agreed with the sentiment. There was no reason for his counterpart to even consider something like that, regardless of whether or not Pike had offered. There still lingered a curiosity, as to what had been learned from the meld, but it paled in comparison to confusion, base anger, and--maybe a little bit of...jealousy? "It would seem so." His voice was cold, as he looked up at his counterpart. What was the point in showing him his own lapse in judgment, when the same thing was going to be repeated with, apparently, just as much carelessness?

Not carelessness. Deliberation. And a certain protective instinct that would see to preventing further harm to his counterpart no matter what promises James made in dreams that may or may not have been lucid. "I was aware of the danger. And of the potential... consequences of my actions as regards your opinion, James, Spock. And yet I deemed it worth the risk. Are you not curious as to why?"

"Don't even fucking try that Vulcan head-game shit with me." Kirk snapped, "You know I want to know what you learned but I want to know what the fuck was going through your head that you would even go down there, what would make you drop the barrier, and what would make you get within touching distance of him!" He gestured violently to the side, "He still has those god damn gloves, doesn't he?! Did you confiscate them somehow?! Or did you leave them on the whole time?!"

Spock sat, posture perfect, a breakwall for the ride of James' anger. "James, do not mistake me - I was aware of the danger. It has been my role to aid my captain in any capacity I am able. I am experienced in such situations. And, as I had hypothesized based on his reaction to my counterpart," vague, but Spock is rather fiercely committed to protecting his counterpart's secrets, the details that he would not share - not from shame but because such mistreatment was a private thing and he would offer no more injury to the younger Vulcan, "his reaction to me was... different."

Different. These things that could pique his curiosity and interest could also halt the simmering of less kind emotions, though his expression remained somewhat wary. Spock said nothing, but glanced to Kirk, to see his reaction. Kirk's entire body was as tight as a bowstring, nearly thrumming with it. Spock, the younger Spock, had seen a very similar stance to it not so very long ago. "Different. How?" Kirk snapped each word, flung like a dagger poisoned with disapproval and keen with rage.

A steady look at both of them. He had calculated the odds.... Kirk would not care for this revelation. "He shared information with me. Vulcans are slaves in his universe. Yet he chose his Spock, molded him, won his loyalty..., his... love." He send sparks crackling through the connections he had with these men, heightened awareness to highlight the import of his next words. "He is bonded to his Spock."

Bonded to his Spock. The words rattle daround in Spock's head for what feels like a literal eternity, because it was such a large concept to fathom that it knocked his sense of time completely out. They bounced around until they finally begin to break apart into their definitive parts, until he could just concentrate on one word: bonded. He wanted to call it a lie, Pike just fooling his counterpart, but he doubted that the conclusion would be drawn if it were not obvious. Through the meld they must have had, it must have been clear.

Spock didn't realize he wasn't breathing until his body starts to notify him in uncomfortable fashions, like the light-headedness that was not chocolate-induced and the hazing of his already disjointed thoughts. So he took a quiet breath, and closed his eyes. A bond. It could have happened, then...and there is nothing peculiar about Jim, or McCoy, or even now, Pike. He could have his choice. In this case, then, the news was welcome. He did not feel so pigeon-holed into an inevitable future. The jealousy diminished, but did not entirely disappear.

They both could see it immediately, how Kirk's anger deflated like a balloon met with a pin. For just a second, they could both see a look of shock that turned into what could only be described as nausea. Kirk turned away from both Spocks, turning his eyes to the fire instead. He leaned against the mantle, one hand holding his body up even as his mind raced. He went completely silent, staring at nothing. He wouldn't be killing one person with his choice, the choice he had finally settled on. The one that was the right choice in a pair of wrongs, the one that had made some logical sense and just having settled on it had made his world rock less.

His stomach lurched as he closed his eyes. The choices swam before him, the sea just that much more convoluted for the additional information. The strong, rocky ground of having made a choice was gone and he was flailing again without experience to help him swim. Just other people's opinions, emotions, words, and his own unsure concerns and desires.

He could feel them both, senses open to their responses, his observations sharper since returning from the brig as they always were in a crisis. Never a peaceful shore leave. His Jim wondered why Spock never took shore leave to travel or go home to Vulcan - it was because they had never had a shore leave that did not involve some fearful emergency that could cost him his carefully, desperately obtained world.

Spock looked to his counterpart, felt the relief and the lack of relief. He stood from his own chair, moved closer to the younger man's position, offering presence if not contact. James was at sea but Spock could not do anything other than add to the flood. "His Spock will sense it if you kill Pike. That Spock is a man of their universe. Pike is uncertain, harbors doubt, yet I know myself and what I would be capable of without the bonds of logic,"  a memory of combat, striking out to kill his captain, only dimly recognized as anything other than a receptacle for his killing urges, "... He will come for Pike if we do not manage to return him. He will come faster if the bond is severed and he will seek destruction."

Kirk was still silent, listening closely. They had no way to return Pike to his universe. Scotty had been trying so desperately, as had Spock, but they had come to the same conclusion: they needed help from the other side to be able to return Pike home. So, instinctively, his mind was formulating a plan. It was tentative, rolling inside his head. His fingers tightened on the mantle and he brought up the other hand, leaning fully against his palms as he heard nothing else but the crackle of the fire.

To even consider his--their--mirror counterpart coming over to collect his bondmate, ruthless and vengeful and above all possessive...that did not put his mind at ease at all. Spock, too, was conflicted now that the decision both he and Kirk had settled on was tossed out the window, at least for him. He would not have killed him by his own hand anyway, but now he certainly wouldn't allow Kirk to sever a bond that was his-but-not. "We have no choice but to wait for his contact," Spock said softly, after a small hesitation.

Spock watched James think. His own Jim was more easily read, everything moving across his face. James' face was more shuttered. Yet the same tells were evident in the muscles of his shoulder and back, the same shifts in posture.  He nodded at his counterpart's words. "There is always a solution to be found. It may be that there is more information we are without. I believe he would share it with me, however, I will not speak with him again without your knowledge and consent, James." Spock pauses, nods. "Captain." It is a small thing. But this Spock had hijacked the entire Enterprise in the service of Pike without telling his own Captain Kirk. It was not as small a thing as it may have appeared.

"...I can't trust your word." Kirk said in a quiet, rough tone. "You knew. You knew my orders, you knew what happened, you knew how I felt about Spock going down there. Then you went and did it too. I can't trust either of you when it comes to Pike. I can't risk you both. If that other Spock can come here, if you're both so sure he would come, that means he could keep coming. If he came, and if we let him have Pike, what keeps them from returning in revenge for us keeping him locked in the brig all this time? If we kill Pike, his Spock could come looking for revenge. We are capable of dealing with one man, even a broken-hearted Vulcan. Keep the Enterprise on lock down, any attempt to beam into the ship automatically picked up and re-beaming the person down into the brig."

He let out a slow breath, "For the safety of the ship and my crew.. I'd kill them both."

Spock remained silent for a moment. The logic of the solution was apparent, though his heart lurched at the thought. "The resonance between you and I, the threads of a bond between us...." He did not like to admit it. "It is there, with him. I feel the bond he has with his Spock." He placed the flat of his hand over his heart, stepped toward James. "It is what gave him the final advantage in his confrontation with my counterpart."

Another few steps, to stand beside the man at the mantle. The heat of the fire wrapped around him, warding off the chill of the mountain air. His voice was quiet, not hiding but meant for James. "I anticipated this result with you. It did not please me. Nor would it please me for you to suffer from lack of information. Do you know of Surak's words, James?"

So many things came to Kirk's lips, but in the end he just said quietly, "Only what little you told me about the man, nothing else." He felt his stomach growing tighter, tighter, until he thought the acid within was surely eating him alive. That burning sensation strong in his gut. He had made his choice. Now, his choice had been taken away from him, or at least the sureness of its nature.

Confirmation. "You dreamed as well." Had he shared the arousal before and upon waking? A question for a different time. Perhaps a different timeline now that Spock had taken this action. He accepted it with as much regret as a Vulcan might feel. "The good of the many, James. It is the Vulcan way, my way. His way as well, " a gesture of the Vulcan in the chair. "The good of many over that which I might wish for myself. I apologize for my offenses." The words have the weight of formal ritual.

Outside of the immediate tension between them, Spock observed. There was that little thing, the mention of a dream, that he did not entirely understand, but did not feel the need to ask about, either now or later. To an apology from himself-but-not to Kirk, in much a similar situation, also brought strange feelings of familiarity. He was rather grateful that it was not him speaking those words, now. Though this may have been one time too many for Kirk--a Spock disobeying his orders to gather information, subsequently apologizing for the offense caused but not the actual act. While he may have been merciful, Spock allowed himself a small bit of doubt on the actual limit of said mercy.

"Yea," The word came from a dry throat, stuck fast, "I did." He was sure about that now, thanks to his talk the other day with the younger Spock. The strawberries... "Chocolate covered strawberries." He murmured with a dry sarcasm. He went silent again for several moments, eyes twisted to an almost purple thanks to the orange glow of the fire as he stared into it. He raised his voice just loud enough that the younger could hear him. "His Spock coming or not," The words stopped in his throat, a choice but not choice being made.

It had become a test of the two men standing there with him. "He'll die tonight."

Spock closed his eyes, unable to control the shudder through his body, through the tenuous echo of a bond that he had so carefully placed far away, distant in his own mind from the bonds he shared with his mates, with these men.

"No."

Spock had stood from his seat on the sofa with this forceful declaration, eyes narrowed slightly, fisted hands tight at his side. Despite the evening they had shared, they were at a crossroads again, one with a sharp turn to either side. Perhaps it was selfish, to hold one's priorities above everything else regardless of the cross dimension and false identities, but he would not allow the pain of a severred bond to come to his mirror counterpart. Not in his universe.

"There is a bloodless solution to this problem, and thus you have no reason to choose the slaughter instead."

"Is it bloodless?" Kirk did not look away from the fire, his knuckles white as they held on tightly to the mantle. "Is it? Maybe it is now, but will it be when his Spock comes? Will you wear the blood on your hands if even one person dies because of that man, to either man, if they return for revenge? They aren't a people of gratitude and thankfulness." His voice was on a tight leash, like it would snap any second.

"I ask the same thing of your proposition, Jim. How are you certain that if he does manage to appear on our Enterprise in search for his mate, he will not kill any and all he sees? You speak of rerouting the transporter in order to intercept him, but that is only one of many possible ways he may warp time and space to arrive in this dimension. What then, if he materializes on the lower decks, and murders our engineering crew? What will you do if he finds his way to our bridge, either to kill us individually, or to implode the ship as happened on the Farragut? They may not be one for gratitude, you are correct, but if he is similar to myself, to us," A gesture to his counterpart. "In any respect, then he is a rational being. He would want Pike, and upon receiving him, return. If there are further similarities to the position of the Enterprise in their universe, they have far more important tasks to complete than petty revenge against cross-dimensional counterparts who did not harbour malovolent intentions in the first place!"

"You don't know any of those things to be true but you're hedging your bets on it!" Kirk rounded on the younger Spock, stepping straight up to him, all up into his personal space. "I can tell, the two of you. Whenever you two talk about this fucker you both lose any logic you have. How do you know he won't simply kill anyone in his path including the guards outside of Pike's cell when he comes? How do you know that once he has Pike, in any sense, he won't just kill anyone else in the area, kill us, or take over the god damn ship for all I know?!" When it came to the safety of his people, of his ship, there was nothing that roused up every protective cell in his body.

"If anything, when it comes to Pike, you are both fucking emotional compromised, way too much to make any choice about him! I'm thinking the best for this crew and the Enterprise while you want to do nothing more then protect his life! You might tell me otherwise and surround your answers in bullshit logic, but I can tell. You tell me no outright, not trying to convince me, just defying my orders again." His voice had dropped to a low growl, leaning in close to Spock.

No trust. The elder Spock sorrowed for his part in it.

Then he moved, a hand on each of the younger men, long fingers gripping shoulders. "I can show you his Spock, through his own eyes. Would you look on these men?"

An immediate tension, a breath sucked in so hard it made his head spin. Kirk looked up to the elder with wide eyes, unguarded for just a moment. No. No. He didn't even know if he said the words aloud. He had denied it in the dream, denied it here. When they had first spoken about Prime's meld with him, Spock had likened it to rape. And in ways, it was similar now. His first two times had been unpleasant at best, terrifying at worst painguiltangersorrowneed and now when it was offered as the real thing, something he was not unprepared for, he balked from it entirely. Even if the words didn't pass his lips, he shook his head minutely.

Coward, he thought loudly in his head, eyes narrowed and jaw tight. "If you are attempting to consider the best decision for the sake of the crew and the ship, you would take any information offered to you, especially if it has been gathered under dangerous conditions." His voice also dipped low, not unlike their infamous face-off on the bridge now months in their past. "Yet you are cowering from it. Fearing it when it is being offered under controlled conditions by an experienced hand a benevolent mind. You will not have the time or the opportunity to understand this other variable when he snaps your neck--and McCoy's."

Uncontrolled children. His hands are on both of them and he speaks through the link, directly.

Pulau na'vathular k'nuhk.

The words are heavy with disapproval, chastising.  He is physically between the two men now, the human on the breaking edge of restraint, the Vulcan too closely focused to see his own folly. “James.” His tone is quieter when he speaks aloud. “I am aware of your fear and yet I suggest this. Think on that. Would I request it lightly? If you care for us, at all, I would ask this thing of you.”

Kirk didn't know the meaning of the exact meaning of the words that the elder Spock, but he could tell two things about it: one, that it was directed more at Spock then him, and two, he was pretty sure Spock just told his counter part to shut the fuck up and be polite. Or something like that. It surprised him for a moment, but he focused when Spock spoke aloud. He met those dark eyes, trying to read what should have been unreadable. If you care for us at all. Kirk wanted to tell Spock it was a very low blow - both Spocks, dammit he wanted to punch the younger in the face right now or find out if Vulcans folded faster then Superman on laundry day when kicked in the groin - but those words hit home, just like the elder knew it would.

His eyes flickered silently over to the younger of the pair, then back to the elder. "...not like the other ones." He whispered, barely able to be heard. His face didn't change from the faintly pissed off expression, but his voice certainly did. It was an acceptance, but a meager one at that. He didn't want to do this, but between the younger's challenge and the elder's emotional blow, he felt like he had little choice.

You always have a choice, James. Not like the other ones, you have my promise.

Spock looked at his counterpart. The gaze was steady, questioning. Was the younger man calm enough for such a thing as a meld?

The initial annoyance that made him speak such harsh words had faded with Kirk's acceptance, and he met his gaze unwaveringly. He was calm, he promised wordlessly through the link. The curiosity also started to consume more and more of his thoughts, opening his mind up to possibilities and loosening barriers in preparation for the meld. For a moment, Spock wondered whether this was developing into its own addiction: seeing his life that was not his through eyes of another, having things made for him but not meant for him, all very close seconds to his actual memories and missing parts but not identical.

I didn't before. Kirk said to the elder alone, then with tightly gripping fists, nodded. "Do it." He wished his voice sounded strong in his own ears.

You always will with me, James. Spock knows James sees the visit to the brig as a betrayal. But, as with his own Jim, he will protect this young one as he is best able, in the manner he sees fit, though it cost him much.

Spock moves his hands, caresses the faces of both men as he settles delicate fingertips into place. Young Spock has no artistry in the meld yet, though his potential is clear. But this Spock, practiced and studied and tested against aliens with no other manner of communicating (he thinks, briefly, of the gentle mind of the Horta), speaks the words in strong tones that inspire confidence. And then he trickles into their minds, calm, refreshing water to parched earth. Control, restraint, not cold or rigid but almost tender as he fluttered his mind inside theirs, inviting them into his own eyes, once again under the arching sky at his heart.

This is much more pleasant than the conditions of which their last meld occurred, Spock notes as his older counterpart pulls both he and Jim together into a foreign-but-not mind. There's less anger, no panic, and he feels less helpless in the general scheme of things. The piece of the sky that he has with him practically sings when it comes near its origin point, but the last thing he's going to do is give it back. Not yet.

Kirk's first thought, after a moment of panic so hard it nearly forced him back out of the beginnings of the meld, was... it wasn't so bad. The first meld he ended up in was like a sucker-punch to the jaw - unexpected and violent. The second was like being dropped into an icy lake and expected to swim with weights tied to his legs - unexpected, less violent, but more cold. This... was okay, at least. The ingrained fear was still there, but lessening. It felt a lot more like the dream, he realized, except now he could feel someone else. Just out there, in the darkness, across an unknown void, another mind. Spock's. This universe's Spock.

The words drifting to the two young men probably only make sense to the Vulcan in the elder Spock’s mind.  You are not required to return it. No one will take it from you.

Before he showed them the corridor of Pike’s mind in which he had been allowed, Spock wanted to soothe them, particularly James. The meld was not an instrument of pain. It was intimate and warm, a sharing of selves that could not be adequately described.

And while they were both here….

Like this, spoken to both of them, accompanied by direction toward the center of Spock, where his bonds glowed fiercely, light and gold twining around each other, glowing and burbling with content completion.

Like this, spoken to both of them, accompanied by direction toward their own minds, the faint threads weaving them all together, echoes and resonances, delicious sparks of connection.

Like this, spoken to both of them, accompanied by direction showing them both how to better shield themselves from invasion, how to mirror and hide and secret away until the secret heart of their selves were invisible. And then how to open those spaces, how to share them with another mind.

The instruction would work defensively for Jim, would stave off solitude for his young counterpart.

Spock takes the advice--there's no reason why he wouldn't--but he's wary about the golden thread (not bond, it can't be a bond) formed between himself and Jim. The news that there is a version of himself that's not bonded to Jim has lessened his fear that he's going to end up with him, but every time they inch a little closer, that comfort minimizes. He instead focuses on watching whether or not Jim is going to use this same advice being given, whether he can even do that at all.

It felt easier as Kirk started to relax into all of this. Nothing was flying at him, emotions or thoughts, just a sort of strange learning that seemed to take forever and no time at all. To Kirk, it was invaluable. He had no idea how to actually do any of what Spock was trying to teach him, but given some time to really think it over, maybe he could. He recognized the golden bond that led outwards into the darkness in two directions - one for Jim, one for Bones. The other threads... those were strange. Things he honestly didn't understand. What he found even more curious were the thin strands that seemed almost to link him to the younger Spock. Like a single sewing thread, so thin it could be snapped by a good wind. It was different though - a deep crimson as vibrant as human blood wrapped in a tendril of gold, almost invisible. It confused him, but the confusion slowly leeched fear out of him.

We are all connected. Spock's voice came over their shoulders, the void smaller and smaller until it resolved into a garden that would be familiar to James. The McCoys belong with us as well. This does not make a choice for you, my young counterpart - you retain that freedom.

The garden brought its own sort of comfort to Spock, emphasized by his elder self's words. He was still in the process of sorting out the difference between threads, bonds, and those type of bonds. The textbook definitions he knew, but at the moment, he had little practical experience to work with. He waited patiently for the world to coalesce, and for them to proceed forward with their original goal.

Kirk felt a bit more settled as the garden appeared around them. Something familiar, a common ground. In Spock's head. That was a weird thought. He looked over towards his first officer, frowning slightly before forcing himself to relax. All the work he had accomplished before, their sunset-into-night talking, felt like it had been destroyed. He kept trying... things just kept breaking it apart again.

Not destroyed, James. Spock sounded almost exasperated. You make too many assumptions. He gestured them to a hidden spring, the wellspring of Spock's own memory. I hide nothing from you, Captain. The deliberate use of James' title a subtle reminder. It is a meeting begun in curiosity. But Pike's tests proved Spock an equal - Pike's... affection clear. Spock did not shield them from the aching pain of the stressed bond or from his own memories of Leonard's time spent missing. He did not shield them but he did not put them in the middle of such a river either. They observed, safe and protected in Spock's garden. He showed them, too, how he had closeted away the reaches of his own mind, a practical application of what he had just taught them.

Spock observes the memory that is not his in complete silence, at least to the other two he is sharing the meld with. To certain things, he examines the scene closely, watches with intent. The memories of this mirror Spock intrigues him just as much as it did before, and he finds these glimpses both informative and teasing. Though when the bond comes up, on both sides of the memory, he does cringe, and the thread he has with Jim strains more than it should be able to, before his mind relaxes again.

Surprisingly, Kirk was also silent throughout the memory. He didn't know how to manipulate what he was watching, so it felt oddly like watching a very interactive movie. It was his emotions that gave away everything, knowing the concepts of how to shield himself but not in a practical fashion yet. It was a barely simmering anger at watching the guards get knocked out - the guards that had trusted Spock, damn he needed to increase security down there. A lot. The double-viewed memories, a meld within a meld, of yet another Spock's life. There was a definite mixture of disgust and anger at the kiss, mostly because he was feeling kissing Pike. But more then anything, even more then the anger, there was concern. He was worried for Spock's life, both of them, their safety and their sanity. He didn't want them hurt, wanted them to stop being idiots and throwing themselves in harm's way.

Spock pauses at that - it is very similar to a sentiment expressed by his Jim. To protect myself, the ease of my own life, when, by my actions, I could aid my captain, such would be illogical. My life has been created in that service. This, then, is the true essence, at least of the elder Spock: devotion that could lead to his own death if it would serve his captain, the one that earned his loyalty. The weakness of a logical man, whose logic leads him to self-sacrifice, all unawares that his life holds special value above other lives.

It's a mindset that the younger Spock can understand of his counterpart, maybe even agree with it, to a point. While he has trusted his life in Kirk's tactics before, has very nearly died under his orders, Spock still likes to think that he will always somehow find a logical way that they can both survive, so he won't have to face the hard truth that, perhaps, he would take a chestful of poisonous flower thorns for his captain. There's little precedent for it now, but he doesn't acknowledge it. If he did, he would have to rationalize it on principle, and that may lead to that thread between him and Kirk becoming more than just that--a thread. Choice indeed.

Perhaps it was fully ironic that Kirk would not hesitate to put himself in extreme danger - space jumping onto a tiny platform, going over to a massive alien ship with little hope of returning, taking on Nero himself however briefly, and what would become a lifetime with time of doing the same - would not want Spock to do the same. The idea of Spock, any Spock, putting their life on the line for his was something immediately hated. I'm allowed to think you're both idiots for throwing yourself in harm's way like lemmings off a cliff.

Lemmings follow an illogical instinct, James. I have made my choices.  Spock's voice, this elder Spock who has seemed so calm until now, contains a sliver of defensiveness. If James will not value his choice, that will not negate it. But a lifetime of rebellion has led Spock to this and his identity is partially wrapped around it, through it, and continued around it - this determination to define what his loyalty means, how his care is expressed.

Spock noticed the defensiveness, but a good half of his attention is on the thread between them rather than the voices he's hearing and the argument over who has the greater right to die first for the other in the next near-death encounter. He's fairly sure that it's static, that neither he nor Jim is doing anything at the moment that is strengthening or weakening it. But the longer he watches it, the more he starts to suspect that maybe, every so often, it gives a little pulse, maybe grows in diameter, but it's impossible to draw any factual conclusions in this metaphysical realm.

There was definitely a pulse shimmering through it now. God fucking dammit can't you two see I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt!? I don't care about him or his Spock, I care about the two Spocks on my ship and in my life! The words rang strong, like they were yelled, crackling with worryangerfear that couldn't be hidden in a meld by someone so inexperienced.

Then there was silence.

Then, Let me the fuck out of this meld. NOW. Embarrassment.

Spock showed them both their place in his mind. An invitation to return, to sit under the sky with him. Then, back in their own bodies, he lifted his hands from their faces.

Back in his own body, Spock took a moment to just lock his mind back into place from its free movement. Then, he retreated from where they were all standing close to each other, to return to his previous seat on the sofa. The fire was warm, but he still didn't want to remove his sport coat. His mind was occupied with things he didn't expect to receive: dimly aware of the thread with Jim, and of something that's hardly there, the faintest echo across the dimensions between a man that is all but him, and their unfortunate prisoner. To concentrate on it was a bit uncomfortable, especially when he knew the extent of the pain through the secondhand meld.

In turn, Kirk moved away as well. He took several long strides away to the closest window that was not near either of them, trying to wrap his mind around everything. He hated the melds. He had no defenses there, and whatever came into his head seemed to pour out of his mouth, like that last bit. Fuck. He stared out the window at nothing particular, honestly debating just leaving all together without another word. The man was in pain, and he knew Spock's stance on Pher, but it was tainted no matter how much the Vulcan might have said otherwise. Tainted by knowledge of bonds and the pain that came with them. It seemed like a mixture of snooping, cheating, and pain to be inside of someone else's head all of the time. People were supposed to have a place they could retreat to, where things could be dissolved and screamed and cursed and cared about and any other shit that came along without being spied upon or felt. He didn't know how Vulcans, how Jim and Bones, could live with it. He had a half-formed one that was heavily shielded at least on one side and he couldn't deal with it.

Spock's Jim was a creature of touch. And, despite his Vulcan cultural reserve, his Jim was quickly convincing Spock that touch was, perhaps, the way to go with humans. He moved over to James, keeping enough space between them to be nonthreatening but to convey his desire to offer comfort. "It is not an easy thing, for humans. I tried to protect my mates from it."

"...the meld?" Kirk wasn't sure exactly what Spock was talking about.

"The bond and the presence that goes with it. I thought to die, to succumb to the madness rather than ask them to make this choice." Spock looked incredibly drawn. His pale skin was even paler than usual, slightly green, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked... bruised and vulnerable.

It called to that same place in Kirk that he was denying. He licked his lips slowly, staring up to Spock for several long, silent moments. Finally his shoulders slumped, and he ignored the comment on the bond completely, "Spock, you need to get some sleep. I... I need to think. Should get going." He stepped forward, towards the door that was on the other side of Spock.

"James, I am sorry." Spock reached out but did not touch. "It is not logical to wish. But I wish there had been another way."

There was a slight physical flinch from the offered touch, but Kirk still looked to Spock, unsure. The melds made him twitchy, of course. No other reason. "There might have been, but what's done is done." He didn't know what else to say. He felt restless, bigger then his own skin. His eyes flickered briefly over to the other Spock. He looked back away after only a second.

Again, Spock observed the interaction between them from the outside, though there was a somber tone that had fallen over it now, less charged than earlier. They both looked tired, and there was a question hanging in the air that Spock took it upon himself to finally voice. "Are you returning to the ship tonight?" Wondering if would actually do it, as he had said earlier in the evening.

"...I don't know." Kirk said quietly and honestly. His mind felt too big in his skull, like it was going to explode. Restless and disquiet. "I don't know."

Spock risked the touch now, a gentle pressure on Kirk's sleeve. A tiny flinch, one only Spock would feel but wouldn't even see. Kirk didn't pull away.

Spock stepped closer, now close enough for James to feel the subdued heat from the Vulcan's body. Kirk only tensed up more. He could remember the dream well, where he had moved against Spock and curled into that body heat without a second thought. Now... now, everything seemed very different. "...Don't embarrass him." Came the very quiet words, his eyes flickering to the other Vulcan just visible beyond Spock's shoulder. Indeed, once the younger Spock had seen them touch, he had glanced away, to focus on the flickering fire.

The younger Vulcan, Spock knew, had difficulty with the explicit images that had... transferred to James during the pon farr. And he had observed it again during their altercation, using the image of Jim and James to further unsettle the angry man. But this was far from that. "I will not." He closed the remaining distance and extended an arm to James, an invitation for contact, for close comfort with no other expectations.

Kirk wanted it. He wanted to step into that comfort, remembering how it felt in the dream-not-dream, so much that every part of him ached for it. He didn't even know why that ache was there, just that it was. It made him think of Bones (was his friend asleep? reading? waiting for him?) and made him think of just bolting out the door. Fuck, he was no coward. So the indecision had him frozen there, his gaze flickering out to the younger Spock again.

And Spock met his gaze, not upset, or annoyed, or disgusted with the physical contact between Kirk and his older counterpart. "Jim." There was nothing other than calm in his tone. "Your well-being is still of my concern, regardless of whether we are on leave. Accept his offer."

The words came faster then his brain could process them, "...but what about you?" Was all he said, keeping that over-the-shoulder gaze.

The remark earned him an arched eyebrow. "What of me? I do not bear the weight of your decision. You are far more deserving of the contact than me, at this time."

"...the point isn't about deserving or not." Kirk said right back, his tone exhausted but trying. "...I saw you two." He said bluntly, "That night. Guess you two need each other, or whatever, just like Jim and I did."

Spock went for the immediate thought, somewhat ignoring the fact Kirk had seen him asleep. The words seemed all right at the time, under the heat and the coziness of the couch. "Then the logical solution would be to share." Except in hindsight, perhaps not.

There was a near audible wrenching sound in all of Kirk's thoughts as the hamster wheel suddenly ground to a halt. What? He hadn't heard that right. Definitely hadn't. Spock hadn't just suggested that they share the elder Spock. What the hell did that even mean? It could mean anything but it meant a whole lot of something. So maybe it wasn't a huge surprise when his face fell into a perfect description of whut?

"James." The humor was barely disguised in the elder Spock's voice. "You are not alone. We would offer you that knowledge. It does not... require the removal of any clothing." He knew, not from the link they shared but from long association with his own Jim, the immediate sexual assumptions being made in the blond head. "I believe it would be a comfort for us all."

Okay well that started up the hamster wheel again. Kirk let out a slow breath and swallowed, looking away for a moment. He rubbed a hand over his face, honestly not sure what to make all of this. His head was spinning out of control. He wanted to climb on the bike and drive until the sun came up to blind him. He wanted... wanted... "Yea." The word slipped from his mouth.

It would always take only their consent. James was wrapped in the elder Spock's arms as soon as the syllable left his mouth.

They were a people of touch telepaths. Their society carefully guarded to preserve privacy, personal space, barriers and boundaries respected above all because to touch was to invite invasion. They kept to themselves unless inside the freedom of a pair bond. But touch, the value of it was not forgotten. His bondmates were men of contact and Spock reveled in the abundance of contact offered to him. It seemed only correct to share that with these men, their counterparts.

Spock moved, moved Jim with him, to the couch and the warmth of the fire and the younger Spock.

There were a few moments of hesitation, waiting until they got comfortable on the couch. On a second thought, then, Spock pulled off his sport coat and laid it over the arm rest before scooting to sit closer to his counterpart's side. The heat was immediate and welcome, better than the fire but when coupled with that warmth, very cozy indeed. He wondered if perhaps he really did need this, or whether it was some other strange mental manifestation of yearning for contact...but he kept where he was. And curled an arm smoothly around the elder's.

It was undoubtedly the most awkward Kirk had ever felt in his life touching someone. He was a little stiff and a lot confused, keeping very firmly to his side of the elder Spock as to avoid touching the younger. Not because he had any real problem about touching Spock, it was just the whole touch telepathy thing. He didn't need another Spock in his head, and doubted Spock wanted to be in there.

"It is not about sharing minds, James." Spock moved, searched for comfort, moved again. His young counterpart was curling in, picking up on the comfort they had shared previously but James was stiff and avoidant. He sighed, pulled the young human half into his lap with one arm while savoring the warmth of the fire and his companions. He sat back up. "James, this jacket, can you remove it?" It was uncomfortably bunchy.

Well, the sound Kirk made was impressively NOT a yelp. Definitely not a yelp. He jerked upright and looked at Spock with huge eyes just for a second out of pure shock, staring. The fuck was he doing with the other Spock here?

"You will overheat if you continue to wear that jacket," The younger Spock chimed in, watching, amused, though not quite smirking. Kirk was so worried about not making him uncomfortable, and yet he had already found comfort in his cozy seat, right here.

A glance between the two for Kirk, just completely out of his league for a moment. He then just... laughed. It was all so very weird. Every bit of it. So, what the hell? Kirk shrugged off the leather jacket and tossed it towards another chair, not giving a damn if it made it or not. It took only a few wriggles to settle himself in on the elder Spock's side, an arm sliding over him, but careful of the person on the other side.

He could worry about what all of this meant when his brain stopped feeling like an over soaked sponge.

The nap with his bondmate had given the elder Spock the energy for this meeting. But the mind meld - Spock would be honest with himself, it was more than the mind meld. It was the tension and the betrayal that James had felt, the tension and the pain his young counterpart had felt. It was his own fear, fear that James would execute the man and both Spocks would suffer for it, fear that James would not and they would all suffer for it still. It was his own fear that the young human who was so like and yet so distinct from his own Jim would refuse their friendship now. It all combined to sink Spock into the couch cushions, his body brittle and tired, finding relief at the pressure of their bodies, proof that gravity would hold him still. He pulled young Spock closer, warmer, more reassuring.

His own yelp of surprise was more mental than anything, a brief halt to his thoughts before Spock recognized he was just pulled deeper into the contact. He, like Kirk, also moved an arm over his counterpart, very carefully avoiding accidental contact with the human on the other side. It's a childish gesture, he concedes at the back of his mind, that they are making allowances for their personal space when they are cuddling closer to each other with only another person between them. But he's reluctant to be the first one to reach out to him; the image of that pulsing thread still shines very clear in his mind.

Kirk closed his eyes with a small sigh, content for now to let himself drift. He wanted to make sure he got back to Bones by morning, but for now, this was... okay. Spock, the one he was curled up against, was ridiculously warm and it just made him sink that much faster into being asleep.

He could feel James slip into sleep, his counterpart also unwinding, drifting. The elder Spock himself finally floated into an easy rest, surrounded by touch.

When Kirk woke, it took several moments to remember where he was and who he was asleep with. A turn of the head and a glance out the window told him it was late, very late. He lifted his head so he could look over the two Spocks beside him. The elder's face looked impassive while the younger's was smooth, gentle. The thought of them both made him smile, just a tiny bit.

What really ended up surprising the hell out of him was looking down and realizing that his fingers were interlaced over Spock's over the other Spock's chest.

He stared at their hands for a long time. Under his wrist, he could feel the still hummingbird fast pulse of one Spock's heart, and in his palm, he could feel the other's. So warm, like a stove after it had been baking something all day. Very slowly he started to work his hand free, definitely not sure about how it happened but knowing while he was awake it probably not a good idea to have it happening. As he struggled, the hand gradually tightened its grip, until it passed a certain point, and loosened almost completely. Once Kirk had freed his hand, those long fingers bunched over a handful of the elder Spock's uniform, trying to replace what had been lost.

Kirk let out a breath and started on problem two - working himself out from under the elder's arm. He didn't want to wake either of them, but now this felt stifling. He was sweating heavily between the banked fire and the pair of Vulcans.

The arm clasped him closer, momentarily, then loosened. The elder Spock, a light sleeper at the best of times, blinked at James, dark eyes solemn and sleepy and not really awake because there was no threat, and then let James go. The arm wrapped around his still sleeping counterpart as the older man's body turned toward his remaining companion and the eyes, not such a mystery when Spock was sleeping after all, full of love and security closed again.

Another breath released, almost shaken. The look in those eyes was one he had seen before, but only recently - Bones. Silently Kirk took stood up, his mind racing again. It was confused about having woken up so early (a glance at the chronometer nearby said it was 0316 in the morning), confused about the new memories his-not-his, confused about... everything. His once relaxation vacation had fallen by the way side and turned into something that was anything but.

It wasn't hard for him to reach out and grab his coat, so silently slipping from the cabin. Outside, he put the jacket back on against the slight night time chill, kicked out the stand on the cycle, pulled it far enough away that turning it on wouldn't wake anyone, then left without looking back.

He had no where and somewhere to be.