Not As We
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG
Summary: Kirk records a message to Spock after his death.
Words: ~550
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts
Notes: Written for the "Epistolary" square on my trope_bingo card.
Personal Log of Admiral James T. Kirk, Stardate 8138.7.
It seems like a stupid idea, this, recording a message for someone who will never hear it. Bones thinks it might help me, make the grieving process a little easier to bear. I don't see how anything could make it easier, let alone this, but he's the doctor so I figured I might as well at least give it a shot.
I miss you, Spock. Every second of every minute of every day. Sometimes when I lie in bed at night, I imagine I can feel your arms around me. I remember the last time we made love, the night before my birthday. I took it for granted back then, but if I could go back I'd memorise every moment of it, every word, every touch, every movement. I'd burn it into my mind so I could never forget.
I haven't slept much since it happened. The bond aches like an open wound, and I can't close my eyes without ending up back there, at the door of the reactor chamber. I keep thinking of all the things I could have done differently, all the lives that were lost because of my bad judgement. You'd tell me that I can't change the past, but God, I wish I could.
I went up to the observation deck early this morning and just stood there for hours, staring out at the stars and remembering all the times we went there together. We shared our first kiss there, do you remember? Right there in front of the stars.
You always did like the stars.
You told me once that sometimes, when one half of a bonded couple dies, their connection is so strong that it pulls the other into death as well. You said you didn't know if that would happen with us. I wish it had.
There was a moment, after you… went away, when I thought I was going to follow you. I was ready, I was surrendering to it, and then Bones shot me with something, brought me back. He was so relieved when I opened my eyes. He almost started crying, telling me he thought he was going to lose me too, and all I could think was that he stopped me going with you. I don't think I've ever hated him more than I did in that moment.
I understand now that he was just doing his job, but it doesn't make it easier to bear. More than once I've thought about completing what the bond started, with pills, or a phaser, but I know you wouldn't want that. You wanted me to live, so I will.
I wish so much that you were still here to hear this message. I've never spent much time contemplating the afterlife and all that, but I have to believe that I'll see you again someday. That when I finally cross that barrier you'll be there waiting for me. A love like the one we shared is too precious to be broken, even by death.
I love you, my t'hy'la, and I'll love you until the day we're finally reunited.
Until then I guess I'll just have to live with it.
[End message]
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG
Summary: Kirk records a message to Spock after his death.
Words: ~550
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts
Notes: Written for the "Epistolary" square on my trope_bingo card.
Personal Log of Admiral James T. Kirk, Stardate 8138.7.
It seems like a stupid idea, this, recording a message for someone who will never hear it. Bones thinks it might help me, make the grieving process a little easier to bear. I don't see how anything could make it easier, let alone this, but he's the doctor so I figured I might as well at least give it a shot.
I miss you, Spock. Every second of every minute of every day. Sometimes when I lie in bed at night, I imagine I can feel your arms around me. I remember the last time we made love, the night before my birthday. I took it for granted back then, but if I could go back I'd memorise every moment of it, every word, every touch, every movement. I'd burn it into my mind so I could never forget.
I haven't slept much since it happened. The bond aches like an open wound, and I can't close my eyes without ending up back there, at the door of the reactor chamber. I keep thinking of all the things I could have done differently, all the lives that were lost because of my bad judgement. You'd tell me that I can't change the past, but God, I wish I could.
I went up to the observation deck early this morning and just stood there for hours, staring out at the stars and remembering all the times we went there together. We shared our first kiss there, do you remember? Right there in front of the stars.
You always did like the stars.
You told me once that sometimes, when one half of a bonded couple dies, their connection is so strong that it pulls the other into death as well. You said you didn't know if that would happen with us. I wish it had.
There was a moment, after you… went away, when I thought I was going to follow you. I was ready, I was surrendering to it, and then Bones shot me with something, brought me back. He was so relieved when I opened my eyes. He almost started crying, telling me he thought he was going to lose me too, and all I could think was that he stopped me going with you. I don't think I've ever hated him more than I did in that moment.
I understand now that he was just doing his job, but it doesn't make it easier to bear. More than once I've thought about completing what the bond started, with pills, or a phaser, but I know you wouldn't want that. You wanted me to live, so I will.
I wish so much that you were still here to hear this message. I've never spent much time contemplating the afterlife and all that, but I have to believe that I'll see you again someday. That when I finally cross that barrier you'll be there waiting for me. A love like the one we shared is too precious to be broken, even by death.
I love you, my t'hy'la, and I'll love you until the day we're finally reunited.
Until then I guess I'll just have to live with it.
[End message]