Fic: A Birthday Alone
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Rating: G
Pairings: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: mpreg, implied character death
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like taking other people's characters and making them miserable.
Summary: Spock celebrates his first special day without Jim. Set in the Everything’s Relative universe.
Note: This was inspired by Rose’s speech to Charlie on her birthday in an episode of The Golden Girls.
A Birthday Alone
It was a beautiful day in San Francisco. The sun was slowly climbing up in the sky, but still Spock was content to stay in the bed. It was the last thing left in the house now, well the last big thing anyway. There were still some boxes scattered about, and several small items to be put in them that would all have to be collected before he left for the shuttle that night.
Spock shifted and clutched the pillow next to his, Jim’s pillow. The bed would be set up in his new room of course, but it would have thinner sheets, it would likely get scratched in transit, and due to cleaning procedures…it would no longer smell like Jim.
Needing to be reminded that all they had shared together had not been just some perfect dream Spock clasped the last gift Jim had given him. He pulled it out from underneath his shirt and opened it.
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you...I know, it’s illogical to celebrate something you had nothing to do with, and several weeks early too but-”
Spock paused the message and looked at Jim’s face. Jim was smiling at him, his eyes filled with love and hope for the future. Spock snapped the pendant closed.
It was not several weeks early anymore, as his body was well aware. He slowly sat up further against the pillows and watched as they shifted beneath his skin. He would need to go up another shirt size when he reached Vulcan. He was so big already and he was barely into the third trimester. Spock sighed, he should not be so vain. At this size it meant the children would be healthy at the time of their birth, and that was what was important.
Speaking of birthdays. It was still his for another fourteen hours and seven minutes and there was a tradition to keep.
Easing his body out of their bed Spock made his way to the kitchen. He pulled out the cake he had bought last night out of its cooling unit. The cake was vanilla this year, he didn’t want to risk mixing chocolate with an already risky pregnancy. He set it out of the table and pulled out the utensils from the box he had yet to close, sitting on a chair in a corner of the room. It was halfway through putting down his own fork when Spock realized he had still set a place for Jim.
Not bothering to put it away he continued setting up and sat down to look at the three candles burning slowly down. When he had turned forty-five Jim had complained that if they put the proper amount of candles on they’d burn down the house, so they had settled on three from then on. One for pasts birthdays, one for the present one, and one in hope of all the birthdays to come.
Spock took a deep breath and blew them out. He remembered what Jim had told him about wishing on birthday candles. Wishes were rather foolish things, and so Spock made a foolish wish today. He knew the one wish he truly wanted nothing in the universe could grant.
Then Spock found himself turning to the empty place setting and doing something most illogical.
“It was an illogical wish, I know you can’t really be with me, Jim, these last months have been a constant reminder of that fact. But this is the first special day I have had to spend without you.”
His words echoed slightly in the bare room.
“Still, as it is a special day it’s seems the proper occasion to talk.”
Spock paused, looking at the empty walls.
“I am going to Vulcan, permanently.”
Somehow speaking it like that made much more real. That tonight he would lock the door on the life they had built here, never to return.
“It is best for all of us.”
Spock thought back to his own childhood. Of always striving to be something that he wasn’t. It was Jim who wanted him to be himself, rather than striving to be what he thought everyone wanted him to be. He would have wanted that for their children too.
“I know you would worry about how they would be treated there. You might wonder how I would treat them and myself. That after all that has happened I might have come away, once again, with the idea that emotions must be pushed away and removed. That is not the case. That is not why I am leaving. I’m leaving because I cannot remain here and hope to...to move on from you. San Francisco is where we built our lives together, both professional and personal. Everywhere I go I am reminded of you; Vulcan holds none of that for me.”
Spock rubbed a hand along his swollen stomach as the children kicked.
“Also on Vulcan I can obtain proper medical support to ensure their safe delivery. And I will not be completely alone....my mother is coming with me. I know you would tell me that I should seek support from our crew as well. I suppose I should, but...our friends would pity the children for what they will not have. Many others…they will see them as children of legends. We have left our mark in history, and our descendants will be measured against our accomplishments. I know the pressures that puts on one’s so young, and I wish to shelter them from that as long as I can.”
Spock ran his finger along the chain of his pedant. It didn’t seem fair that all his children would have to know Jim by were physical mementos.
“Still, I too think about what they will never know. I will keep your books, uniforms, everything that we collected in our years together, and the memories of course. Yet, I fear that it won’t be enough, that despite it all they won’t know what a wonderful person you were.”
He closed his eyes.
“Truthfully, Jim, I feel very selfish. When I died you said you were alone without me, and now..."
Spock wrapped his arms tightly around his bulging stomach.
"...and now I shall not be.”
With watery eyes Spock looked at the cake once more, his mind recalling the first time they had done this.
“Jim, may I ask why you have cut such a large piece for yourself?” Spock asked, staring at the sugary confection that barely fit on the plate.
“Those are the rules, Spock. The birthday boy always gets the first piece. We’ll do it for your birthday too.”
His gaze drifted back to the empty place setting.
“I miss you, T’hy’la.”
With that Spock finally cut a piece of the cake and set it down on his plate.
The End
Rating: G
Pairings: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: mpreg, implied character death
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like taking other people's characters and making them miserable.
Summary: Spock celebrates his first special day without Jim. Set in the Everything’s Relative universe.
Note: This was inspired by Rose’s speech to Charlie on her birthday in an episode of The Golden Girls.
A Birthday Alone
It was a beautiful day in San Francisco. The sun was slowly climbing up in the sky, but still Spock was content to stay in the bed. It was the last thing left in the house now, well the last big thing anyway. There were still some boxes scattered about, and several small items to be put in them that would all have to be collected before he left for the shuttle that night.
Spock shifted and clutched the pillow next to his, Jim’s pillow. The bed would be set up in his new room of course, but it would have thinner sheets, it would likely get scratched in transit, and due to cleaning procedures…it would no longer smell like Jim.
Needing to be reminded that all they had shared together had not been just some perfect dream Spock clasped the last gift Jim had given him. He pulled it out from underneath his shirt and opened it.
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you...I know, it’s illogical to celebrate something you had nothing to do with, and several weeks early too but-”
Spock paused the message and looked at Jim’s face. Jim was smiling at him, his eyes filled with love and hope for the future. Spock snapped the pendant closed.
It was not several weeks early anymore, as his body was well aware. He slowly sat up further against the pillows and watched as they shifted beneath his skin. He would need to go up another shirt size when he reached Vulcan. He was so big already and he was barely into the third trimester. Spock sighed, he should not be so vain. At this size it meant the children would be healthy at the time of their birth, and that was what was important.
Speaking of birthdays. It was still his for another fourteen hours and seven minutes and there was a tradition to keep.
Easing his body out of their bed Spock made his way to the kitchen. He pulled out the cake he had bought last night out of its cooling unit. The cake was vanilla this year, he didn’t want to risk mixing chocolate with an already risky pregnancy. He set it out of the table and pulled out the utensils from the box he had yet to close, sitting on a chair in a corner of the room. It was halfway through putting down his own fork when Spock realized he had still set a place for Jim.
Not bothering to put it away he continued setting up and sat down to look at the three candles burning slowly down. When he had turned forty-five Jim had complained that if they put the proper amount of candles on they’d burn down the house, so they had settled on three from then on. One for pasts birthdays, one for the present one, and one in hope of all the birthdays to come.
Spock took a deep breath and blew them out. He remembered what Jim had told him about wishing on birthday candles. Wishes were rather foolish things, and so Spock made a foolish wish today. He knew the one wish he truly wanted nothing in the universe could grant.
Then Spock found himself turning to the empty place setting and doing something most illogical.
“It was an illogical wish, I know you can’t really be with me, Jim, these last months have been a constant reminder of that fact. But this is the first special day I have had to spend without you.”
His words echoed slightly in the bare room.
“Still, as it is a special day it’s seems the proper occasion to talk.”
Spock paused, looking at the empty walls.
“I am going to Vulcan, permanently.”
Somehow speaking it like that made much more real. That tonight he would lock the door on the life they had built here, never to return.
“It is best for all of us.”
Spock thought back to his own childhood. Of always striving to be something that he wasn’t. It was Jim who wanted him to be himself, rather than striving to be what he thought everyone wanted him to be. He would have wanted that for their children too.
“I know you would worry about how they would be treated there. You might wonder how I would treat them and myself. That after all that has happened I might have come away, once again, with the idea that emotions must be pushed away and removed. That is not the case. That is not why I am leaving. I’m leaving because I cannot remain here and hope to...to move on from you. San Francisco is where we built our lives together, both professional and personal. Everywhere I go I am reminded of you; Vulcan holds none of that for me.”
Spock rubbed a hand along his swollen stomach as the children kicked.
“Also on Vulcan I can obtain proper medical support to ensure their safe delivery. And I will not be completely alone....my mother is coming with me. I know you would tell me that I should seek support from our crew as well. I suppose I should, but...our friends would pity the children for what they will not have. Many others…they will see them as children of legends. We have left our mark in history, and our descendants will be measured against our accomplishments. I know the pressures that puts on one’s so young, and I wish to shelter them from that as long as I can.”
Spock ran his finger along the chain of his pedant. It didn’t seem fair that all his children would have to know Jim by were physical mementos.
“Still, I too think about what they will never know. I will keep your books, uniforms, everything that we collected in our years together, and the memories of course. Yet, I fear that it won’t be enough, that despite it all they won’t know what a wonderful person you were.”
He closed his eyes.
“Truthfully, Jim, I feel very selfish. When I died you said you were alone without me, and now..."
Spock wrapped his arms tightly around his bulging stomach.
"...and now I shall not be.”
With watery eyes Spock looked at the cake once more, his mind recalling the first time they had done this.
“Jim, may I ask why you have cut such a large piece for yourself?” Spock asked, staring at the sugary confection that barely fit on the plate.
“Those are the rules, Spock. The birthday boy always gets the first piece. We’ll do it for your birthday too.”
His gaze drifted back to the empty place setting.
“I miss you, T’hy’la.”
With that Spock finally cut a piece of the cake and set it down on his plate.
The End