all your roads lead to me | spock/kirk | 1,889 word
title: all your roads lead to me
author: tasheila
pairing: spock/kirk
rating: pg-13
words: 1,889 words
summary: a promt from st_xi_kink round three:
so, kirk loves spock. and spock loves kirk. and everyone knows it. but whenever spock thinks about getting into a seriously established relationship, all he can imagine is seventy years down the road where kirk is old/dying and spock is still in his prime, and all he can think about is having to watch kirk die. :(
notes: third spock/kirk, what. this prompt just refused to leave me alone. i hope it's not too mushy.
Everyone serving on the USS Enterprise knows many things, but only one that they are sure of: Captain James T. Kirk and his First Officer, Mr. Spock are desperately in love with each other, but they won’t do anything about it.
Rather, Spock won’t. Kirk has no qualms about letting the Vulcan know his intentions: a meaningful look, a touch on the small of his back as he peeks at the charts on the Science Station, an encouraging remark for something as simple as his diplomacy to the new creatures they meet on their travel
There are invitations to dinner in the mess and then chess in his room, all of which Spock says yes to. The crew waits with baited breath, hoping against hope that their boss will find his contentment with his most trusted confidante…and yet, it never happens.
They know by the disappointed slope of Kirk’s shoulders, of the way his eyes waver from contact after those chess nights, of the way Kirk and Spock never communicate with each other for a few days afterward.
And then Kirk will try again. So the cycle goes.
The crew tries a number of different things to move things forward.
Ignoring Spock sounded good in theory, before Uhura balked. So everyone else did anyway, before realizing: Spock spent his childhood being ignored by his Vulcan classmates and not minding much, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that he won’t care much if his human crewmates do the same thing.
Besides, on day four of their self-imposed “Spock Ban”, Kirk starts glaring angrily at all of them and starts muttering about court martials before asking Spock for a chess rematch.
Spock agrees and that is the end of that.
It doesn’t stop the crew from trying though. Chekov suggests slipping notes under their doors, “like that film, with the teenagers in Los Angeles, da?”, Uhura wonders if perhaps Spock should just be told, Scotty believes maybe asking Kirk to stop being so pathetic would work, while Sulu’s Filipino mother (therefore well-versed in the art of forcing love down the throats of 20 year-olds) suggests the crew try and make Spock jealous by flirting with Kirk (“and if that doesn’t work maybe my Hikaru can have him because all my sons are married off and I worry about him so-“ “Ma!”)
The esteemed Dr. McCoy just says, “Dammit, I’m a doctor, not a matchmaker!”
It all changes after Starfleet sends them to Delta Vega to drop off supplies for Scotty’s replacement.
It’s mostly fuel, to replenish the place, and basic amenities to make life easier for whoever’s replaced Scotty (“the poor bugger,” he sighs. “Hey, I had some left over sandwiches there, I hope he hasn’t found them!”)
Kirk volunteers to be beamed down by himself, after all he’s more familiar with the planet, other than Scotty (and he’s needed to do the beaming, so he’s out of the question). He’s also depressed after the latest chess debacle (he doesn’t even try anymore), and some space between him and Spock would be nice. What better than that ice-cold planet where he met a different Spock who actually wanted him?
So he gets beamed down, except Scotty hadn’t realized that sending down too many things could push one of those things out of the beaming zone…and that one thing happens to be Kirk.
The Captain is stuck in a white, brutally cold wasteland, and thinks this might be a severe case of déjà vu: he’s just been rejected by Spock, and here he is, again. He yells down the communicator before Scotty’s meek voice informs him about the mistake and would he please try and get warm as he tries to fix this, because they can’t seem to lock him in, and then lower, meeker still “Mr. Spock is glaring at me from behind, this is good, right? For you?”
Kirk’s about to snap back when he hears a roar behind him and that sense of déjà vu comes back, this time horribly ten-fold: it’s that same, furry monster thing, with the saliva and the pungent smell except this time Kirk is not near a cave where an older version of Spock can save him, and he really needs to be running but he can’t run because he won’t be locked in for the ship
His heart is beating faster than it should as that thing comes closer and the Enterprise knows it because suddenly Spock is on the communicator, all breathless and shaky and “Jim, what’s wrong, what’s happening down there?”
“Spock, I-“ and he takes a deep, harsh breath as it comes closer, he can see it now and -
“I love you.”
He is tackled down soon after, and he can feel a bite down his neck. Before he passes out Scotty succeeds in bringing him up and suddenly he is looking up at Spock.
Before his eyes close, he hears that quiet voice, “I love you too, t’hy’la,” and he knows what happens next no longer matters.
He wakes up a day later, his neck bandaged up although he can’t feel it. A look to the clock by the table on his right shows he should be on shift now, so he tries to sit up, thereby earning the errant attention of the first officer next to him.
“You are awake,” says Spock, after pushing Jim down on the bed. “I suppose all threats to your life have been eradicated- “
“Spock.”
“And as such I shall be taking leave-“
“Spock.”
“of you now because the Enterprise needs a captain at her helm. Good day.”
“SPOCK.”
And finally, Spock looks at him. Really looks at him, not guardedly, as he had been these past few weeks, but his eyes speak of so many thoughts and feelings that Kirk almost feels like he’s in a mind-meld again. And then the mask takes over.
“Are we really going to pretend that you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell me you loved me?” asks Jim, his eyes full of hurt. “That you didn’t call me your t’hy’la? Because just clear this up for me, so I don’t go forcing you to play chess again.”
Spock sits back down again, apparently too shocked to speak. “How did you know of that word? We never speak of it.”
Kirk looks away. “Your older self. And I saw everything, and realized I wanted it, and sometimes I know you want it too, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
“I-“ Spock’s throat goes dry. “I do. So badly, sometimes I can’t control it.”
“Then don’t,” whispers Kirk. Why must you?”
Wordlessly, Spock raises his hand up to Kirk’s face. Kirk allows him, moving his temple towards Spock’s hand, and Spock is breathless towards this utter trust for him.
He slips into Kirk’s mind, easily, like he has done this countless of times before (and he has, once). He projects everything, and Kirk does too, and suddenly there are no longer boundaries between them.
When my mother was alive, I knew the relationship she shared with my father was quite strained. Yet I could feel her love for him, and his love for her. It was so silent, so secret only the most observant would have seen it, but they loved each other so fiercely, so wholly, and one would never have functioned without the other.
And then she died. And I could feel his despair at the loss, the breaking of a bond that had lasted for nearly thirty years. Jim, she died because my planet exploded, but as a human she could have died from so many ways: in childbirth, from a disease, from old age, things that matter not much to Vulcans because of our stronger constitution.
If I allow myself to couple with you, to give up so much of myself for you to hold, what happens to me when you go? The bond will break and I will feel that aching pain, that torturous, numbing feeling that consumed my father and will consume me. I felt the beginnings of it when you passed out at the transporter, twice when we almost lost you. I would not have hesitated to let it consume me.
If you were never to open your eyes again I cannot be responsible for the actions I will take, Jim. I do not reject you because I don’t love you, I reject you because I love you too much.
A silence. And then Kirk speaks.
“I cannot speak for your mother, nor for your father,” he begins carefully. “But Spock, do you not believe that they are both thankful for the years they shared together?”
“I had not thought of it that way,” Spock answers. “Perhaps they are.”
“They are,” Kirk says, surely. “And I am thankful for the time I have known you, for the short time I have known that you reciprocate my feelings. Perhaps we deserve more?”
“Jim-“
“Would you deny us this, Spock?”
“I cannot quite say-“
“Because you could have me only up until tomorrow, “ a clench in Spock’s insides at those words, “or you could have me for sixty more years. It doesn’t matter because you will have me.”
There are no other words, except
“T’hy’la”, and a kiss on Kirk’s forehead “T’hy’la”, a kiss on his ear, ““T’hy’la” one on his cheek, and finally, “T’hy’la” and a kiss on his forehead and Spock will never forget this.
The crew of the Enterprise breathes easy now.
James T. Kirk never breaks his promises, and like he said, he gives Spock sixty years of absolute love, devotion, and the Vulcan equivalent of tears and laughter. Their days are filled with adventure, and a few scrapes, but the togetherness is more than enough to roughen the edges and the aches. But the clock ticks, and each day, they are older than the last.
They are both incredibly realistic that this will not last any longer now, yet they are happy. They have not been taken away before their time. They count themselves lucky to be in this position. The years hold no business over them.
Kirk suffers a few strokes, the result of which there are no more chess games, but Spock cares for him, feeds him, dresses him, even bathes him. He cares not for his pride, because it is Spock’s hand that touches him. What they are most thankful for is that his mind stays clear, so in mind-melds and touch telepathy, the feelings are even stronger, now that his senses are beginning to give way.
Near the end, he asks Spock, his speech slurring, “Do, do you, r-r-regret this?”
And Spock, remembering an ancient conversation years ago, when they were both strapping young men with the world at their feet, answers,
“No, my t’hy’la, no.”
“Wh-why?”
“I could have you for one more day, or six more,” he says, gripping that frail hand, “but what matters is, I have you.”
author: tasheila
pairing: spock/kirk
rating: pg-13
words: 1,889 words
summary: a promt from st_xi_kink round three:
so, kirk loves spock. and spock loves kirk. and everyone knows it. but whenever spock thinks about getting into a seriously established relationship, all he can imagine is seventy years down the road where kirk is old/dying and spock is still in his prime, and all he can think about is having to watch kirk die. :(
notes: third spock/kirk, what. this prompt just refused to leave me alone. i hope it's not too mushy.
Everyone serving on the USS Enterprise knows many things, but only one that they are sure of: Captain James T. Kirk and his First Officer, Mr. Spock are desperately in love with each other, but they won’t do anything about it.
Rather, Spock won’t. Kirk has no qualms about letting the Vulcan know his intentions: a meaningful look, a touch on the small of his back as he peeks at the charts on the Science Station, an encouraging remark for something as simple as his diplomacy to the new creatures they meet on their travel
There are invitations to dinner in the mess and then chess in his room, all of which Spock says yes to. The crew waits with baited breath, hoping against hope that their boss will find his contentment with his most trusted confidante…and yet, it never happens.
They know by the disappointed slope of Kirk’s shoulders, of the way his eyes waver from contact after those chess nights, of the way Kirk and Spock never communicate with each other for a few days afterward.
And then Kirk will try again. So the cycle goes.
The crew tries a number of different things to move things forward.
Ignoring Spock sounded good in theory, before Uhura balked. So everyone else did anyway, before realizing: Spock spent his childhood being ignored by his Vulcan classmates and not minding much, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that he won’t care much if his human crewmates do the same thing.
Besides, on day four of their self-imposed “Spock Ban”, Kirk starts glaring angrily at all of them and starts muttering about court martials before asking Spock for a chess rematch.
Spock agrees and that is the end of that.
It doesn’t stop the crew from trying though. Chekov suggests slipping notes under their doors, “like that film, with the teenagers in Los Angeles, da?”, Uhura wonders if perhaps Spock should just be told, Scotty believes maybe asking Kirk to stop being so pathetic would work, while Sulu’s Filipino mother (therefore well-versed in the art of forcing love down the throats of 20 year-olds) suggests the crew try and make Spock jealous by flirting with Kirk (“and if that doesn’t work maybe my Hikaru can have him because all my sons are married off and I worry about him so-“ “Ma!”)
The esteemed Dr. McCoy just says, “Dammit, I’m a doctor, not a matchmaker!”
It all changes after Starfleet sends them to Delta Vega to drop off supplies for Scotty’s replacement.
It’s mostly fuel, to replenish the place, and basic amenities to make life easier for whoever’s replaced Scotty (“the poor bugger,” he sighs. “Hey, I had some left over sandwiches there, I hope he hasn’t found them!”)
Kirk volunteers to be beamed down by himself, after all he’s more familiar with the planet, other than Scotty (and he’s needed to do the beaming, so he’s out of the question). He’s also depressed after the latest chess debacle (he doesn’t even try anymore), and some space between him and Spock would be nice. What better than that ice-cold planet where he met a different Spock who actually wanted him?
So he gets beamed down, except Scotty hadn’t realized that sending down too many things could push one of those things out of the beaming zone…and that one thing happens to be Kirk.
The Captain is stuck in a white, brutally cold wasteland, and thinks this might be a severe case of déjà vu: he’s just been rejected by Spock, and here he is, again. He yells down the communicator before Scotty’s meek voice informs him about the mistake and would he please try and get warm as he tries to fix this, because they can’t seem to lock him in, and then lower, meeker still “Mr. Spock is glaring at me from behind, this is good, right? For you?”
Kirk’s about to snap back when he hears a roar behind him and that sense of déjà vu comes back, this time horribly ten-fold: it’s that same, furry monster thing, with the saliva and the pungent smell except this time Kirk is not near a cave where an older version of Spock can save him, and he really needs to be running but he can’t run because he won’t be locked in for the ship
His heart is beating faster than it should as that thing comes closer and the Enterprise knows it because suddenly Spock is on the communicator, all breathless and shaky and “Jim, what’s wrong, what’s happening down there?”
“Spock, I-“ and he takes a deep, harsh breath as it comes closer, he can see it now and -
“I love you.”
He is tackled down soon after, and he can feel a bite down his neck. Before he passes out Scotty succeeds in bringing him up and suddenly he is looking up at Spock.
Before his eyes close, he hears that quiet voice, “I love you too, t’hy’la,” and he knows what happens next no longer matters.
He wakes up a day later, his neck bandaged up although he can’t feel it. A look to the clock by the table on his right shows he should be on shift now, so he tries to sit up, thereby earning the errant attention of the first officer next to him.
“You are awake,” says Spock, after pushing Jim down on the bed. “I suppose all threats to your life have been eradicated- “
“Spock.”
“And as such I shall be taking leave-“
“Spock.”
“of you now because the Enterprise needs a captain at her helm. Good day.”
“SPOCK.”
And finally, Spock looks at him. Really looks at him, not guardedly, as he had been these past few weeks, but his eyes speak of so many thoughts and feelings that Kirk almost feels like he’s in a mind-meld again. And then the mask takes over.
“Are we really going to pretend that you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell me you loved me?” asks Jim, his eyes full of hurt. “That you didn’t call me your t’hy’la? Because just clear this up for me, so I don’t go forcing you to play chess again.”
Spock sits back down again, apparently too shocked to speak. “How did you know of that word? We never speak of it.”
Kirk looks away. “Your older self. And I saw everything, and realized I wanted it, and sometimes I know you want it too, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
“I-“ Spock’s throat goes dry. “I do. So badly, sometimes I can’t control it.”
“Then don’t,” whispers Kirk. Why must you?”
Wordlessly, Spock raises his hand up to Kirk’s face. Kirk allows him, moving his temple towards Spock’s hand, and Spock is breathless towards this utter trust for him.
He slips into Kirk’s mind, easily, like he has done this countless of times before (and he has, once). He projects everything, and Kirk does too, and suddenly there are no longer boundaries between them.
When my mother was alive, I knew the relationship she shared with my father was quite strained. Yet I could feel her love for him, and his love for her. It was so silent, so secret only the most observant would have seen it, but they loved each other so fiercely, so wholly, and one would never have functioned without the other.
And then she died. And I could feel his despair at the loss, the breaking of a bond that had lasted for nearly thirty years. Jim, she died because my planet exploded, but as a human she could have died from so many ways: in childbirth, from a disease, from old age, things that matter not much to Vulcans because of our stronger constitution.
If I allow myself to couple with you, to give up so much of myself for you to hold, what happens to me when you go? The bond will break and I will feel that aching pain, that torturous, numbing feeling that consumed my father and will consume me. I felt the beginnings of it when you passed out at the transporter, twice when we almost lost you. I would not have hesitated to let it consume me.
If you were never to open your eyes again I cannot be responsible for the actions I will take, Jim. I do not reject you because I don’t love you, I reject you because I love you too much.
A silence. And then Kirk speaks.
“I cannot speak for your mother, nor for your father,” he begins carefully. “But Spock, do you not believe that they are both thankful for the years they shared together?”
“I had not thought of it that way,” Spock answers. “Perhaps they are.”
“They are,” Kirk says, surely. “And I am thankful for the time I have known you, for the short time I have known that you reciprocate my feelings. Perhaps we deserve more?”
“Jim-“
“Would you deny us this, Spock?”
“I cannot quite say-“
“Because you could have me only up until tomorrow, “ a clench in Spock’s insides at those words, “or you could have me for sixty more years. It doesn’t matter because you will have me.”
There are no other words, except
“T’hy’la”, and a kiss on Kirk’s forehead “T’hy’la”, a kiss on his ear, ““T’hy’la” one on his cheek, and finally, “T’hy’la” and a kiss on his forehead and Spock will never forget this.
The crew of the Enterprise breathes easy now.
James T. Kirk never breaks his promises, and like he said, he gives Spock sixty years of absolute love, devotion, and the Vulcan equivalent of tears and laughter. Their days are filled with adventure, and a few scrapes, but the togetherness is more than enough to roughen the edges and the aches. But the clock ticks, and each day, they are older than the last.
They are both incredibly realistic that this will not last any longer now, yet they are happy. They have not been taken away before their time. They count themselves lucky to be in this position. The years hold no business over them.
Kirk suffers a few strokes, the result of which there are no more chess games, but Spock cares for him, feeds him, dresses him, even bathes him. He cares not for his pride, because it is Spock’s hand that touches him. What they are most thankful for is that his mind stays clear, so in mind-melds and touch telepathy, the feelings are even stronger, now that his senses are beginning to give way.
Near the end, he asks Spock, his speech slurring, “Do, do you, r-r-regret this?”
And Spock, remembering an ancient conversation years ago, when they were both strapping young men with the world at their feet, answers,
“No, my t’hy’la, no.”
“Wh-why?”
“I could have you for one more day, or six more,” he says, gripping that frail hand, “but what matters is, I have you.”