The Spaces Between - Epilogue
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, AU!Kirk/AU!Spock, slight Kirk/AU!Spock
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Weeks after the events of The Voyage Home, Spock is still piecing together his memories, unaware of the relationship that once existed between him and Kirk. Kirk, for his part, is determined to suffer in silence, but when a Spock from an alternate universe appears, still reeling from the loss of his own James Kirk, all their lives are thrown into chaos.
Words: ~900/14900
Warnings: Consent issues
One universe over
Spock hesitates at the door to the alternate Kirk's apartment. This time he made sure to do his research before showing up. He still remembers the other Kirk's words about finding a Kirk without a Spock, and by all accounts this is indeed a Kirk who is missing his Spock.
Just as before, the universe is strikingly similar to his own, and even more so to the previous one he visited. In this reality, as in that one, it was Spock who died in the reactor chamber, but in this one he was never resurrected.
Spock hopes that the alternate Kirk was right, and that his presence will allow them both to find healing.
Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand and signals for entry.
* * * * *
Kirk downs another glass of brandy, hoping that this one will be enough to dull the pain, even temporarily. Nearly six months Spock's been gone, and the pain is still as fresh as it was the day he died.
His eyes fall briefly on a picture of him, Spock, and McCoy, looking happy together, and the pain in his chest, and mind, spikes. He blinks back tears and pours himself another brandy, downing it almost angrily.
When the door chimes, he barely notices it. It chimes again and he looks up blearily, wondering who could be calling at this hour. He frowns. Perhaps it's McCoy again, trying to convince him to seek help. The doctor has been annoyingly insistent that Kirk needs to accept that Spock is gone and start moving on with his life instead of hiding in his apartment. If McCoy weren't his oldest friend Kirk would have told him to shove off by now.
Sighing, he rises from his seat and drags himself over to the door.
The sight that greets him when he opens it has him stumbling backwards in fear and disbelief. "No," he says, shaking his head. "This isn't real, this isn't real."
"Jim," the apparition says, and the familiar voice nearly breaks him. His own guilt and grief come back to haunt him, showing him the one thing he wants most, the image of his greatest regret.
Tears fill his eyes and threaten to fall. "I'm sorry," he says. "I tried to save you. I would have done anything. I was stupid and reckless, and you're the one who paid for it. I'm so sorry." He drops to the floor and curls in on himself, burying his face in his hands.
"Jim." The voice is closer now. "I know my presence here is alarming, but I am not here to harm you, nor to make you feel guilty. My intention was only to help."
Kirk feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks up in shock. From what he's heard hallucinations don't usually touch people. But the face is still so achingly, impossibly familiar that he has to look away.
"I come from an alternate universe," the image of Spock says. "I know your pain vividly, because it is my own. I lost my Jim, as you have lost your Spock. It is my hope that, in time, we can help each other."
Kirk wipes at his face as the words sink in. "You're not my Spock."
"No."
Kirk reaches up to touch the alternate Spock's face, feeling his hand tremble. "You look just like him."
"Our universes are very similar. In many ways I am him." He raises a hand in a familiar position. "I could show you, if you like."
Kirk stares at him, frozen in shock, then slowly nods. The feeling of the alternate Spock's fingers on his face is painfully familiar, his mind reaching out automatically for its other half. He closes his eyes, fighting back a fresh set of tears. "Do it."
There is a pause, and then Spock's mind slips into his.
It isn't quite the same as melding with his Spock. There's a sadness here that wasn't there before, a deep pain that has barely even begun to heal. Kirk recognises it, identifies with it as the same grief and guilt and loss that he's felt every day since Spock died.
Memories bombard him as he ventures further into Spock's mind. They are all exactly as he remembers; their first meeting, their first kiss, their bonding. It is only during the incident with Khan that they diverge, and Kirk has the unwanted gift of seeing how he looks as he dies, in a mirror of the scene that still haunts his nightmares.
It's the same, he thinks. It's all the same, except you didn't die.
Yes.
You're not him.
No.
After seeing what he's seen, feeling what he's felt, Kirk isn't sure he cares, but he tries to keep calm, forcing himself to think logically. What will you do if I say no?
I will leave, and try another universe. I have no wish to force you. There's something there, behind the words, but Kirk can't quite grasp it.
His heart has already decided on an answer, but he thinks it through anyway. A life with a Spock who isn't really his, but who is close enough to share the same memories, or a life with no Spock at all.
It isn't a hard choice. He's lived that life, and he has no wish to go back to it. Stay, he thinks. Please. Stay.
And Spock does.
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, AU!Kirk/AU!Spock, slight Kirk/AU!Spock
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Weeks after the events of The Voyage Home, Spock is still piecing together his memories, unaware of the relationship that once existed between him and Kirk. Kirk, for his part, is determined to suffer in silence, but when a Spock from an alternate universe appears, still reeling from the loss of his own James Kirk, all their lives are thrown into chaos.
Words: ~900/14900
Warnings: Consent issues
One universe over
Spock hesitates at the door to the alternate Kirk's apartment. This time he made sure to do his research before showing up. He still remembers the other Kirk's words about finding a Kirk without a Spock, and by all accounts this is indeed a Kirk who is missing his Spock.
Just as before, the universe is strikingly similar to his own, and even more so to the previous one he visited. In this reality, as in that one, it was Spock who died in the reactor chamber, but in this one he was never resurrected.
Spock hopes that the alternate Kirk was right, and that his presence will allow them both to find healing.
Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand and signals for entry.
* * * * *
Kirk downs another glass of brandy, hoping that this one will be enough to dull the pain, even temporarily. Nearly six months Spock's been gone, and the pain is still as fresh as it was the day he died.
His eyes fall briefly on a picture of him, Spock, and McCoy, looking happy together, and the pain in his chest, and mind, spikes. He blinks back tears and pours himself another brandy, downing it almost angrily.
When the door chimes, he barely notices it. It chimes again and he looks up blearily, wondering who could be calling at this hour. He frowns. Perhaps it's McCoy again, trying to convince him to seek help. The doctor has been annoyingly insistent that Kirk needs to accept that Spock is gone and start moving on with his life instead of hiding in his apartment. If McCoy weren't his oldest friend Kirk would have told him to shove off by now.
Sighing, he rises from his seat and drags himself over to the door.
The sight that greets him when he opens it has him stumbling backwards in fear and disbelief. "No," he says, shaking his head. "This isn't real, this isn't real."
"Jim," the apparition says, and the familiar voice nearly breaks him. His own guilt and grief come back to haunt him, showing him the one thing he wants most, the image of his greatest regret.
Tears fill his eyes and threaten to fall. "I'm sorry," he says. "I tried to save you. I would have done anything. I was stupid and reckless, and you're the one who paid for it. I'm so sorry." He drops to the floor and curls in on himself, burying his face in his hands.
"Jim." The voice is closer now. "I know my presence here is alarming, but I am not here to harm you, nor to make you feel guilty. My intention was only to help."
Kirk feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks up in shock. From what he's heard hallucinations don't usually touch people. But the face is still so achingly, impossibly familiar that he has to look away.
"I come from an alternate universe," the image of Spock says. "I know your pain vividly, because it is my own. I lost my Jim, as you have lost your Spock. It is my hope that, in time, we can help each other."
Kirk wipes at his face as the words sink in. "You're not my Spock."
"No."
Kirk reaches up to touch the alternate Spock's face, feeling his hand tremble. "You look just like him."
"Our universes are very similar. In many ways I am him." He raises a hand in a familiar position. "I could show you, if you like."
Kirk stares at him, frozen in shock, then slowly nods. The feeling of the alternate Spock's fingers on his face is painfully familiar, his mind reaching out automatically for its other half. He closes his eyes, fighting back a fresh set of tears. "Do it."
There is a pause, and then Spock's mind slips into his.
It isn't quite the same as melding with his Spock. There's a sadness here that wasn't there before, a deep pain that has barely even begun to heal. Kirk recognises it, identifies with it as the same grief and guilt and loss that he's felt every day since Spock died.
Memories bombard him as he ventures further into Spock's mind. They are all exactly as he remembers; their first meeting, their first kiss, their bonding. It is only during the incident with Khan that they diverge, and Kirk has the unwanted gift of seeing how he looks as he dies, in a mirror of the scene that still haunts his nightmares.
It's the same, he thinks. It's all the same, except you didn't die.
Yes.
You're not him.
No.
After seeing what he's seen, feeling what he's felt, Kirk isn't sure he cares, but he tries to keep calm, forcing himself to think logically. What will you do if I say no?
I will leave, and try another universe. I have no wish to force you. There's something there, behind the words, but Kirk can't quite grasp it.
His heart has already decided on an answer, but he thinks it through anyway. A life with a Spock who isn't really his, but who is close enough to share the same memories, or a life with no Spock at all.
It isn't a hard choice. He's lived that life, and he has no wish to go back to it. Stay, he thinks. Please. Stay.
And Spock does.