Fic: Change My Eyes
Title: Change My Eyes
Fandom: Star Trek (Reboot)
Pairing: pre-nu!Spock/Kirk, past-prime!Spock/Kirk
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Spock Prime and Jim talk about other lives lived. Prompt: It was you who made my blue eyes blue.
At AO3 or below
“Your Jim looks different.”
“Yes. I did not meet him until he was older than you are.”
Jim, not his Jim a different one, a younger, less refined Jim, smiles grandly up at Spock. “It’s not just that,” he says, returning his attention to the holo in his hand. An image of another world, of another Jim Kirk. He’s right, of course. In addition to being several years his senior, the Jim in the holo has slightly longer hair and wears it in a completely different smile. His face is rounder, and his body a little bigger. But the first thing Spock had noticed about this new Jim was his eyes. Not warm, familiar hazel, but bright blue. But Jim says, “He’s not as handsome as I am.”
Spock can’t help laughing.
Jim beams at him. “My Spock never laughs,” he says, expression falling into almost a pout.
Spock smiles gently at him and resists the urge to reach out and touch him. “He is young and prideful and unsure. I am old; I know when and how to relax.”
“The two of you look more alike than me and him,” Jim says, gesturing to the holo.”
“Your timeline diverges from mine at the arrival of Nero on the day of your birth. Our birth , being previous to that, and early childhood are likely the same.”
Jim’s expression falls into a neutral on as he thinks. “My eyes,” he murmurs, one hand coming up to his face to run along the upper edge his eyelid as he other thumb sweeps over his counterpart’s.
“They are quite striking.”
Jim looks up, those blue eyes looking into Spock’s. He sighs quietly after a few moments and looks at the ground. “They say it’s from being born in space. Radiation or something messed up my eyes.”
“Does it make it difficult for you to see?”
Jim shakes his head. “No. Well, maybe. I haven’t had any problems yet. Might when I’m older. Did I ever need my eyes fixed?”
Spock hesitates before answering. He’s not sure what telling this Jim of the other will do to the timeline, he’s not sure if anything he knows about his Jim will be correct for this one. But the light throb of the bond in his mind thinks that they’re quite alike, at least in mind. “Doctor McCoy gave you a pair of glasses for your birthday once. I only saw you wear them a few times.”
“Glasses?”
“You were allergic to substances required for corrective surgery.”
Jim laughs. “Did I at least look good in glasses?”
“Yes. Although my opinion may be biased.”
Jim laughs again and smiles, soft and small and a little sad. “Did you love him?” he asks, voice soft.
“Yes,” Spock responds without a second of hesitation. It’s something he regrets not saying more often, although he knows that Jim knew; knew exactly what Spock felt every time he looked at him. He misses the answering tug on his bond, Jim’s pleasure that Spock’s thinking about him. The link throbs and the Jim in front of him makes a face. “I apologize, I got lost in my memories.”
“S’okay,” Jim says. “How did you do that? I thought Vulcans were touch telepaths.”
“We form mental links with our partners. It is the Vulcan equivalent of marriage.”
“Oh,” Jim says quietly.
“Your mind is similar enough to his that the link attempts to heal itself by bonding to your mind. Our minds, it seems are still extremely compatible.”
Jim rubs the back of his skull, as if he could feel the mental tug Spock is describing.
Spock smiles; his Jim had often done the same thing.
“Does that mean me and the other you…” Jim trails off, looking up.
“Yes. It means that your minds will fit together easily, painlessly. Were the two of you to meld it would be relatively simple.”
“Is it always romantic?”
“Not necessarily.”
“But yours was.”
“Yes. Although, our minds were in tune long before our feelings.”
Jim is quiet, thinking for several long seconds until he says, “We still don’t get along. I mean, not as well as we should.”
“He is adjusting,” Spock says gently. “I do not think it will take him as long as I did, however. He is already much more in touch with his emotions.”
“I…I think I love him already,” Jim admits quietly. “I mean…I like being with him and brainstorming with him and we always end up fighting but I like that too. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have come to you for advice.”
“Jim, you may come to me with anything you need.”
“I mean, you changed my life, you and your black hole. From the very beginning of my life. It’s always been you.” He touches the corner of his eye.
Spock inclines his head. “I believe it is you who must make the first move, Jim. He is unlikely to act upon any feelings he may have.”
“He’s so…distant though. So professional and polite. I don’t…I like having him as a friend and I don’t want to scare him off.”
>Spock wishes to assure Jim that his fears are groundless but he can’t. “Perhaps. But he will come back to you, I can assure you of such.”
“Might as well tell him once we’re out in the middle of unmapped space. Can’t go anywhere then.”
“You have always been an astute tactician, Jim.”
Jim laughs, breaking the serious mood. “Thanks.”
“I cannot promise you it will be easy, Jim, but I can promise you that it will work out.”
Jim turns the holo around in his hand a few times before turning it off and handing it back to Spock.
Spock takes it and puts it around his neck. The weight of the pendant against his chest and the pressure of the string on the back of his neck are both welcome.
Jim steps forward and hugs Spock quickly.
Spock returns the pressure and his lonely mind and soul ache with the sweet sadness of Jim’s embrace.
Then Jim pulls away and looks at him with that familiar smile and a familiar glint in eyes that are not the least bit familiar. Bright blue and not hazel, because of Spock. It’s Jim, but not his Jim. He touches the pendant lightly with his fingers as Jim disappears out the door and to his ship and his Spock.
Fandom: Star Trek (Reboot)
Pairing: pre-nu!Spock/Kirk, past-prime!Spock/Kirk
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Spock Prime and Jim talk about other lives lived. Prompt: It was you who made my blue eyes blue.
At AO3 or below
“Your Jim looks different.”
“Yes. I did not meet him until he was older than you are.”
Jim, not his Jim a different one, a younger, less refined Jim, smiles grandly up at Spock. “It’s not just that,” he says, returning his attention to the holo in his hand. An image of another world, of another Jim Kirk. He’s right, of course. In addition to being several years his senior, the Jim in the holo has slightly longer hair and wears it in a completely different smile. His face is rounder, and his body a little bigger. But the first thing Spock had noticed about this new Jim was his eyes. Not warm, familiar hazel, but bright blue. But Jim says, “He’s not as handsome as I am.”
Spock can’t help laughing.
Jim beams at him. “My Spock never laughs,” he says, expression falling into almost a pout.
Spock smiles gently at him and resists the urge to reach out and touch him. “He is young and prideful and unsure. I am old; I know when and how to relax.”
“The two of you look more alike than me and him,” Jim says, gesturing to the holo.”
“Your timeline diverges from mine at the arrival of Nero on the day of your birth. Our birth , being previous to that, and early childhood are likely the same.”
Jim’s expression falls into a neutral on as he thinks. “My eyes,” he murmurs, one hand coming up to his face to run along the upper edge his eyelid as he other thumb sweeps over his counterpart’s.
“They are quite striking.”
Jim looks up, those blue eyes looking into Spock’s. He sighs quietly after a few moments and looks at the ground. “They say it’s from being born in space. Radiation or something messed up my eyes.”
“Does it make it difficult for you to see?”
Jim shakes his head. “No. Well, maybe. I haven’t had any problems yet. Might when I’m older. Did I ever need my eyes fixed?”
Spock hesitates before answering. He’s not sure what telling this Jim of the other will do to the timeline, he’s not sure if anything he knows about his Jim will be correct for this one. But the light throb of the bond in his mind thinks that they’re quite alike, at least in mind. “Doctor McCoy gave you a pair of glasses for your birthday once. I only saw you wear them a few times.”
“Glasses?”
“You were allergic to substances required for corrective surgery.”
Jim laughs. “Did I at least look good in glasses?”
“Yes. Although my opinion may be biased.”
Jim laughs again and smiles, soft and small and a little sad. “Did you love him?” he asks, voice soft.
“Yes,” Spock responds without a second of hesitation. It’s something he regrets not saying more often, although he knows that Jim knew; knew exactly what Spock felt every time he looked at him. He misses the answering tug on his bond, Jim’s pleasure that Spock’s thinking about him. The link throbs and the Jim in front of him makes a face. “I apologize, I got lost in my memories.”
“S’okay,” Jim says. “How did you do that? I thought Vulcans were touch telepaths.”
“We form mental links with our partners. It is the Vulcan equivalent of marriage.”
“Oh,” Jim says quietly.
“Your mind is similar enough to his that the link attempts to heal itself by bonding to your mind. Our minds, it seems are still extremely compatible.”
Jim rubs the back of his skull, as if he could feel the mental tug Spock is describing.
Spock smiles; his Jim had often done the same thing.
“Does that mean me and the other you…” Jim trails off, looking up.
“Yes. It means that your minds will fit together easily, painlessly. Were the two of you to meld it would be relatively simple.”
“Is it always romantic?”
“Not necessarily.”
“But yours was.”
“Yes. Although, our minds were in tune long before our feelings.”
Jim is quiet, thinking for several long seconds until he says, “We still don’t get along. I mean, not as well as we should.”
“He is adjusting,” Spock says gently. “I do not think it will take him as long as I did, however. He is already much more in touch with his emotions.”
“I…I think I love him already,” Jim admits quietly. “I mean…I like being with him and brainstorming with him and we always end up fighting but I like that too. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have come to you for advice.”
“Jim, you may come to me with anything you need.”
“I mean, you changed my life, you and your black hole. From the very beginning of my life. It’s always been you.” He touches the corner of his eye.
Spock inclines his head. “I believe it is you who must make the first move, Jim. He is unlikely to act upon any feelings he may have.”
“He’s so…distant though. So professional and polite. I don’t…I like having him as a friend and I don’t want to scare him off.”
>Spock wishes to assure Jim that his fears are groundless but he can’t. “Perhaps. But he will come back to you, I can assure you of such.”
“Might as well tell him once we’re out in the middle of unmapped space. Can’t go anywhere then.”
“You have always been an astute tactician, Jim.”
Jim laughs, breaking the serious mood. “Thanks.”
“I cannot promise you it will be easy, Jim, but I can promise you that it will work out.”
Jim turns the holo around in his hand a few times before turning it off and handing it back to Spock.
Spock takes it and puts it around his neck. The weight of the pendant against his chest and the pressure of the string on the back of his neck are both welcome.
Jim steps forward and hugs Spock quickly.
Spock returns the pressure and his lonely mind and soul ache with the sweet sadness of Jim’s embrace.
Then Jim pulls away and looks at him with that familiar smile and a familiar glint in eyes that are not the least bit familiar. Bright blue and not hazel, because of Spock. It’s Jim, but not his Jim. He touches the pendant lightly with his fingers as Jim disappears out the door and to his ship and his Spock.