fic: "Still Life" (ST XI, pg13, pt. 2/3)
Title: Still Life (pt. 2/3)
Rating: pg13
Wordcount: ~10,000 / 31,203
Warnings: major character death and all the baggage that comes with it
Disclaimer: don't own, etc.
Summary: Jim has died and Spock struggles to learn how to live without him.
A/N: written for ksrelativity . My prompt was: New Vulcan, notebook, birthday, fireworks.
After that entry, reading the journals took on a sense of urgency that had not been there before. Spock could not entirely explain to himself why this was so - all he knew was that every time he looked at the journals, the only thing he could think about was that he needed to hurry and read them soon, that he had to finish them before -
Before what?
He was not certain. But he needed to finish them.
He began to pick up the pace in his reading and by the time he was packing to travel to Russia, he had just reached the point where Jim had joined Starfleet.
“I really hate that Pike guy,” he wrote, his handwriting messy and scribbled in apparent irritation. “It's none of his business what I do with my life. But something he said stuck with me and I think that's what pisses me off the most. I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing this for me, and I really hate that guy because fuck him, I'm not 'meant for something better' - but I am going to make my life better. Because I want to.”
Spock's eyes crinkled in a slight smile as he closed the journal and packed it carefully into his carry-on bag, where three other journals were kept just as carefully tucked away. He had not known Jim when he was rebellious and angry at the world, but it was not difficult to imagine, and somehow it was an endearing thought.
All of his things had been packed away back into their respective boxes, except for the things Spock had placed into a carry-on to take onto the transport shuttle with him. The shuttle ride from Kenya to St. Petersburg would be seven hours long and he did not wish to go into it empty-handed. It would be a good opportunity to get through several of Jim's journals. The quicker he got through them, the better.
It was still early in the day when one of Nyota's great-grandsons carried Spock's boxes down and out to the front yard, where they would be loaded onto a hovercar and taken to the shuttle port to be sent ahead. Spock watched almost nervously as Jim's box was carried. The young man seemed to notice Spock's unease and carried that box a little more gingerly than he had the others.
When all of the boxes had been sent away, Spock sat in the middle of the room that was now devoid of any traces that he had lived in it for the past month and looked out the window. It had been nice to spend time with Nyota, but he was glad to be moving on. After all the hustle and bustle of living in a household full to the brim with people, staying with Pavel who lived alone would be a welcome change, and Spock hoped the peace and quiet would help him settle his thoughts, that being away from a family would help him stop wishing he had his own. Maybe he would be able to meditate easier, too.
Nyota came into his room and sat down quietly next to him. For a moment neither of them spoke, just sat by each other in silence.
“I'm glad you visited,” Nyota said finally, breaking the silence. “I really appreciate it, you know.”
“I am glad I came,” Spock replied. And he truly was glad, even though he was also glad to be leaving. Had he been alone in an apartment in San Francisco for the past month - or, worse, still on New Vulcan - Spock was sure he would have gone mad by now. But he had kept his sanity, or at least some remnants of it, and it was thanks to Nyota.
“I'll miss you when you go,” Nyota sighed, patting his arm. “But I know Pavel will be happy to see you so I can't feel too sad.” Spock did not reply. After another quiet moment had passed, Nyota added softly, “I think you'll be happy to spend some time with him, too. I hope he can show you that things do get easier.” She patted his arm again and stood up. “Well, it's about time for you to head to the shuttle port. We had better get going. Ikinya's going to drive us again.”
Spock stood up, considering her words. They made their way downstairs where Ikinya was waiting for them, along with a good chunk of the rest of the family.
“Goodbye, Mr. Spock!” The room erupted into noise all at once, people expressing how glad they were he visited and how they'll miss having him around, children babbling that it was fun while it lasted and will he please come visit them again someday, almost all the sentiments indistinct because everyone was trying to talk over each other, and Spock suppressed a smile. He really was glad he had visited.
It took him a while to finish saying his goodbyes, but finally he, Nyota, and Ikinya made their way out of the house and into the hovercar. It was all very quiet compared to the roar of people they had just escaped, and for a moment the only noise was that of the engine humming as they lifted into the air and drove away.
The drive to the shuttle port was a quiet one. Halfway there, Nyota put a hand on Spock's arm, the way she often did, but still said nothing. A sort of melancholy had permeated the hovercar's atmosphere. No one spoke; Spock did not know what to say, and it seemed Nyota did not either.
When they arrived and Ikinya turned the engine off, the three of them sat there uncertainly for a brief moment before Ikinya got out and opened the door for Nyota and Spock. They shuffled out and stood as Ikinya got Spock's carry-on from the back of the hovercar. They looked first out at the shuttle port, then at each other.
“Thank you for having me here,” Spock said finally, breaking the long silence. Nyota smiled, lips trembling as if she might cry.
“Thank you for coming,” she replied, and Spock gave a slight smile that only made hers wider. “You'll always be welcome here, Spock.”
“Indeed,” Ikinya said from where he was standing behind the hovercar, his voice a low rumble compared to Nyota's airy and tremulous tone.
They began to walk towards the shuttle port, cool air blasting them as they stepped through the automatic doors. Spock went to the front desk and they printed his ticket, then went back to where Nyota and Ikinya were standing. This would be where he left them, as only ticket-holders were allowed past the front desk.
“I appreciate your kindness,” Spock said, and this time when Nyota put a hand on his arm he reached out and did the same, his hand resting lightly on her forearm for a brief moment before he took his suitcase from Ikinya.
“Goodbye, Nyota,” he said quietly.
“Goodbye, Spock,” she replied, her voice just as faint, and Spock turned and walked through the small gate separating the front area from the rest of the port, and looked back only after he had gone a good distance. When he did, Nyota and Ikinya were gone. He gazed at where they had been for only a moment longer before moving forward once more.
* * *
The shuttle trip to Saint Petersburg was an uneventful one. There were only nine other individuals on the small shuttle and so Spock had a three-seat row to himself. He certainly did not need so much space, but he was thankful he did not have to be in close proximity to others. He settled into his seat, placed his bag on the seat next to him, pulled out the journal he was working through, and began to read.
“Registering at Starfleet has been pretty annoying. There's so much paperwork. Enlisting as a cadet, registering at the academy, signing up for classes, billions of health forms and shit... Why did I think this was a good idea?”
The seat belt light went on before the shuttle began to lift off. Spock did not even bother to look up.
“The guy I sat next to on the shuttle, McCoy, ended up being my roommate since he was in line to register right in front of me and since we're new recruits we don't get to pick our roommates. Not sure if this will be great or horrible, he seemed like a good guy but he's got a lot of baggage with him. Most of what he talked about on the shuttle was about his divorce which was pretty messy, of course he was definitely buzzed so who knows how much he was exaggerating. Either way he seems a little crazy but I dunno if it's the good crazy or bad crazy yet. Guess I don't have much room to talk though.”
“Can I get you anything, sir?” the flight attendant asked him, her voice soft and just audible over the hum of the shuttle's engine.
“No, thank you,” he replied simply, glancing up briefly. She nodded and smiled and moved on to the next passenger, and he looked back to the journal.
“Anyway, I'm done with most of the registration stuff. Classes start in two weeks. I was planning on going in undeclared but it looks like Pike's chosen for me. I'm on the command track. Fucker. Someday I'm going to get him back for all the shit he's pulling.”
Spock smiled to himself. Jim had been very fond of Admiral Pike - when they had had their wedding ceremony on Earth, after they were bonded, Pike had been there, sitting in the front row in the place Jim's father would have been sitting. When Pike had died in combat towards the end of the Two-Year War, Jim had taken it very, very hard. It was fascinating to see the way that things changed over time.
The entry ended there, and Spock turned the page and read on.
* * *
When the shuttle landed in Saint Petersburg, Spock had read through Jim's time at Starfleet Academy and had begun reading the entry that gave an account of the Narada Massacre, but had stopped. He knew it would be an emotionally trying entry and he did not want to read it in public, and the trip was nearly over. He sat quietly at his seat for twenty-eight minutes and three seconds before the shuttle descended into Saint Petersburg.
“Please be aware that temperatures are currently quite low,” the flight attendant was saying into the intercom. “It is advised that you wear a coat or another warm, heavy article of clothing before exiting the shuttle craft. Thank you for flying with United Earth today...”
Spock pulled his heavy cloak from his bag and pulled it on, tugging the collar up to keep his neck warm. The older he got, the more tiring it was to control his body temperature to adjust to ambient temperatures. It was easier to just wear warm clothing now.
There was a short wait before the passengers were allowed to slowly make their way off the shuttle and into the shuttle port. At the exit gate Spock could see Pavel Chekov waiting for him from a short distance.
Pavel spotted him quickly and waved to ensure his attention with a wide smile - Spock met his gaze and gave a slight nod to acknowledge him as he shuffled through the crowd that had congregated at the exit gate, holding his carry-on bag protectively close to him.
“Mr. Spock,” Pavel said, sounding almost breathless with excitement when Spock finally reached him. “It is so good to see you.”
“I am pleased to be in your presence as well,” Spock said.
“Do you have everything?”
“Yes. I trust my other belongings made it safely to you.”
“Yes, sir, five boxes. I did not open them, of course, sir.”
“Please, there is no need to refer to me as 'sir'.”
“Ah - you are right, of course. My apologies.”
“Shall we go?”
“Yes, yes.”
With that, Pavel turned and led Spock out of the shuttle port, out into the cold Russian afternoon. It was not snowing, but it was cold enough to. Spock pulled his collar up closer around his neck.
Pavel led him out to where his hovercar was parked, helped him load his bag into the trunk, then they shuffled into the car and lifted off.
“I am very glad to see you, Mr. Spock,” Pavel said as he drove.
“You have repeated yourself several times. I can assure you I take your word to be true.” Pavel chuckled at that, his eyes crinkling into a wide, merry smile. Spock wondered if he would ever be able to feel happy, the way Pavel seemingly did now. In the past months he had felt some slight semblances of contentment, maybe gladness - but happiness, real joy, seemed a distant memory, one he doubted he could find again. Pavel had always been a cheerful person. Such emotions did not come so naturally to Spock.
“My apologies,” Pavel said. “I am just not certain what else to say, sir - Spock, Spock, I'm sorry.”
“Do you enjoy living in Russia?” Spock asked, and from the way Pavel's gaze flickered from him back to the air in front of them, he knew the question was a loaded one.
“It has its good parts,” Pavel replied slowly, softly. “Its good parts, and its bad ones.” He left it at that, and Spock knew he would say no more on the matter, not now.
For the remainder of the drive they were both silent, the hum of the engine making the only noise in the hovercar. When they arrived at Pavel's home and landed down on the driveway and stepped out into the cold air, Pavel opened the trunk of the hovercar and pulled Spock's bag out from it. He handed it to Spock and shut the trunk, then paused, his hands resting on the metal. He looked down at his hands pensively for a moment, then over at Spock.
“All I can say, sir,” he said slowly, “is that while Russia is my homeland, and I am always grateful to be here, if I had to choose - I would choose San Francisco, sir, in the same way I know you would choose New Vulcan.”
Spock looked at him, and Pavel smiled sheepishly, and Spock thought that maybe they were not so very different after all.
* * *
When he was settled in, his boxes unpacked and his belongings set out in the guest room of Pavel's home, Spock looked around the room and sighed. It was not as large as his room at Nyota's home had been, not so bright and sunny and colorful. He did not know if he liked it better or worse - then thought it did not matter if he liked it. He was Vulcan, and it was a room just as good as any. The only benefit was that the window was slightly larger, and had a good view of the Saint Petersburg skyline, though one of the neighbors had a large trailer attached to their hovercar that obstructed the view somewhat.
But there was a large comfy chair for him to sit in, and he settled into it, pulled from his bag the journal he had been reading, and looked at it for a moment.
He knew the next entry would be the one containing Jim's account of the destruction of Spock's home planet - of the man's first impressions of him. He was sure they would not be good ones, and he was sure the entry would not be a pleasant one to read. He looked at the journal, then up through the window, then back at the journal again.
He flipped to the last page he had read, and continued.
“Everything has changed,” the entry began, and Spock lingered on the opening for a moment.
“Everything has changed. It's been four days since I last wrote, and in those four days the whole world is completely and irrevocably different from the way it was before.
It started when I took the Kobayashi Maru, for the third time, and used the hack I made to win. The Academy board called a counsel because I had been “cheating” and this Vulcan bastard Spock was behind it. That guy, I don't know what to say about him. I'll talk about him later.
The hearing was interrupted by a distress call from Vulcan. The graduating cadets were given an emergency promotion and put on their assigned ships and sent out. I wasn't supposed to go, because I'm technically on academic probation because of the hearing. But Bones smuggled me on, and definitely not in a pleasant way.
Basically he drugged me and when I woke up I was on the Enterprise and we were in space. An ensign, Chekov, had just read off the mission summary and right away I knew that we were going into a trap. It was described as a lightning storm in space, the same phenomenon that happened when the Kelvin was destroyed by an unknown, very advanced ship about 25 yrs ago. I knew it was that ship and I was right.
I guess if it hadn't been for me, every ship would have been destroyed, instead of all of them but the Enterprise. Or, if it hadn't been for me and the fact that the pilot, Sulu, managed to fuck up the launch and delay us by about a minute. I don't want to think about that.
We got there, it was the ship, which ended up being a ship of angry future Romulans. They demanded Captain Pike go to their ship. Before he left he promoted Spock to captain, and me to first officer. Fucking crazy bastard.
They ended up destroying Vulcan. I'm still not completely certain on the specifics, but I guess in the future they can make black holes with red goopy shit. But it's gone - a whole planet, a whole world, just gone. There are maybe 10,000 survivors between Vulcans that managed to evacuate in time and Vulcans who were off-planet at the time. Everything Vulcan ever did, created, contributed to the Federation - gone. As if the economy isn't already shitty enough, and that's the least of everyone's worries.
I really don't like writing about this. But it's history and it needs to be said so I'll keep writing. I want to make sure everything is written down before we reach Earth and the media twists the story up into something it's not.
After that, I wanted to chase after the Narada which was heading for Earth, but Spock wanted to regroup with the fleet in the Laurentian system. We ended up fighting about it and Spock called security on me. I ended up being ejected from the ship in an escape pod and I landed on Delta Vega, Vulcan's sister planet.
This is where things start to get trippy and I'm not sure if it's safe to talk about what happened. For now all I will say is that due to extremely improbable and very lucky circumstances, I was able to beam back aboard the Enterprise before much time had passed. This time Spock was pissed and we had another fight.
I hated having to do this but I said that Spock must have never loved his mother, to get him to get angry enough at me to attack me, hopefully without seriously hurting me, so that he would give up command because he was emotionally compromised. My plan worked but to say I felt shitty about it is an understatement. But I had command of the ship, and I knew what I needed to do.
I had learned how to beam from one rapidly moving object to another, so using that formula Spock and I ended up beaming aboard the Narada while the Enterprise hid in the magnetic distortion of Saturn's rings. We needed to get Captain Pike back, and disarm the Narada.
For two guys who had been at each other's throats constantly in the past day or two, we worked really, really well as a team. We were able to accomplish both goals. Earth is saved. But Vulcan is still gone, and I feel like I'm going to end up being shoved into being a hero like my father all of a sudden just because I did what needed to be done. I'm not a hero. I don't feel like a hero, at least. All I know is that the Enterprise was just following orders the entire time. I'm just glad they were willing to follow orders from me of all people, and we were able to save those who could still be saved.
Unfortunately our warp drive was destroyed and so now we're puttering back to Earth. It's expected to be another twelve hours but we're almost there. I've been awake and on my feet almost nonstop for the past four days but I couldn't go to sleep without writing this down. Now that I'm done I've got about an hour to sleep before I need to be up again. I'm temporarily captain of this ship, and with so many Vulcan survivors on board there's a metric shit ton of things that need to be done. I'll just be glad when this is over.
I wish there was more I could have done to help, to stop this from happening. I did everything I could and I know none of this is my fault but I still wish I could have done more. The Vulcans have lost everything. I said the worst possible shit to Spock right when he had lost everything. I don't know what's going to happen after this but I don't think I will ever stop feeling guilty about this whole thing. The Narada was what took my dad away, and I couldn't stop it in time to keep it from taking away billions of other people too - other fathers, mothers, children, siblings, friends and families. A whole planet is gone. People are going to call me a hero but I'm not, a real hero would have been able to save Vulcan and I couldn't.”
Spock expelled a heavy breath and looked up through the window, lowering the journal into his lap. The destruction of Vulcan was, a century later, still a topic he did not enjoy speaking of or hearing about. Reading Jim's recounting of the subject, written so shortly after it occurred, brought up memories of the event as fresh and painful as they had been in the days after the catastrophe.
But Jim had not walked away unscathed either. Over the years, Jim apologized for the hurtful words he had spoken that day many, many times over. Spock had long ago forgiven him, but if there was anything that Jim had never quite forgiven himself for, it was that. The circumstances of their first meeting were circumstances that led to an initial relationship of animosity and distrust.
It had taken Spock a long time to see Jim as anything other than a brash and arrogant Human who had become Captain through luck and circumstance. It had taken Jim a long time to see Spock as anything other than a self-righteous and inconsiderate Vulcan who he only begrudgingly acknowledged as the best candidate for First Officer. When their feelings had finally changed, things improved between them in leaps and bounds - but Spock remembered their first year working together, and that first year was easily the most difficult in their entire Starfleet careers.
He thought of the other Spock, the him from the alternate universe that had helped Jim, who Jim had not directly mentioned in the entry. He wondered if that Spock had an easier beginning with his Jim than they had. They probably did - it seemed like it would not be difficult to get off to a start better than what Jim and Spock had. He had never asked for any details of the other Spock's life, but he did know that he did not seem at all surprised when Jim, to whom he maintained a close relationship, announced that they would be bonded.
Jealousy was illogical, but Spock was jealous of the other him, from the other universe. That Spock probably started with a perfectly amicable relationship with his captain. That Spock probably bonded with his Jim in a matter of months instead of years. More than anything Spock wished that he had those years, the year he had spent barely tolerating Jim and the year he had spent fighting his own feelings - how he wished to have those years back, to use them to love Jim instead of hating him. He could have had two years more with Jim than what he had had - but he did not, and he was irrationally jealous of the other Spock who, he had convinced himself, had more time to spend with his Jim than Spock had with his. Envy bubbled in his chest and he could feel the first stirrings of anger -
Spock put the journal away. That was more than enough for the day. He needed to meditate.
* * *
It was strange, waking up in a near-silent house after having spent the past month in a house filled to the brim with people. Spock sat up slowly in bed and spent a moment appreciating the quiet morning, then stood up and pulled a heavy robe on, for it was very cold.
When he made his way down the stairs and into the living room he found Pavel setting a dish of milk onto the floor, which was being watched intently by a black cat that began lapping up the milk as soon as it was on the floor.
“Good morning!” Pavel said brightly. “Oh - this is Kuro. He is a friendly cat, did I mention him before? But he is a nice cat, he won't bother you at all.”
“Good morning,” Spock replied, eying the cat. It appeared to be several years old, at a normal size and with a healthy-looking coat. The cat was evidently well-cared for, and spared a glance at Spock for a brief moment before deciding its milk took precedence over new people.
Spock was fond of cats. All of the feline-like creatures that had been native to Vulcan were very large, and so these small cats had been something of a novelty to him when he first moved to Earth. But he had grown fond of them, and he and Jim had owned two cats in their lives together.
“I do not mind,” Spock added. “I am fond of cats.” Pavel smiled a bit and looked down at the cat, who had finished its milk and was now looking up at Spock. It seemed to consider the new person for a moment, then trotted away nonchalantly to sit in front of a window. Pavel laughed.
“Well, maybe he is not so friendly to strangers,” he admitted. “He is a good cat, though.”
“I do not doubt it,” Spock said.
“Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Spock?” Pavel asked, changing the subject.
“Is your replicator capable of making plomeek soup?” Spock asked.
“As a matter of fact, it is,” Pavel answered, grinning. “I will make you some. Please, come sit down.”
* * *
The thing about staying with Pavel was that he understood Spock better than Nyota had. Nyota had a family - and an extensive one at that - to grieve with her, to support her, to keep her company. Pavel had no one, and neither did Spock. Nyota's husband had passed away several years ago - Pavel's had only been gone about a year and a half.
Pavel understood being alone. He knew what it was like to be where Spock was now, and he knew that more often than not Spock wanted to be alone, and he did not try and press him. Nyota had not either, but it had been difficult to be alone in a house full of people.
It was strange, how Spock had come to Earth to escape being alone, and yet now desired to be alone more often than not. But there was a difference - on New Vulcan Spock had had no choice but to be alone. On Earth he could choose to be alone when he wished or spend time with friends if he wished. He had acquaintances and colleagues on New Vulcan, but no one he could think of as a friend. Vulcans did not particularly buy into the concept of friendship.
So Pavel understood him somewhat better than Nyota had. He respected Spock's need to be alone, and the time they did spend together was quiet. They spoke often of menial things. Pavel did not bring up Jim unless Spock did first, so they spoke of him only a few times.
Pavel understood being alone - what he did not understand was the loneliness of a broken bond that would continue to reach desperately, fruitlessly, for its other half for the rest of Spock's life. It would yearn for his t'hy'la until another bond was formed, and Spock had no intention of forming another bond. No one could take the place of his Jim. So Pavel understood loneliness, but he could never understand a broken bond. Spock had always thought that his ability to form a psychic bond with his t'hy'la was much better than the tenuous relationships Humans maintained, but now he was not sure.
In any case, he was thankful for Pavel's hospitality. He did not think he was ready to go back to his San Francisco apartment yet, but he was getting there. He was adjusting. The transition from staying with Nyota's family to staying with just Pavel and the cat was preparing him for his transition to living alone.
* * *
Pavel generally left Spock to himself, so Spock spent most of his time going through Jim's journals. The sense of urgency he had begun to feel toward them had only increased over the weeks and he knew now what his deadline was - he was desperate to finish all eighty-two of them before Jim's birthday in January. He did not know why, but somehow the idea that it was important to finish reading them before Jim's birthday had taken hold of him and hadn't let go. It was approaching the middle of December, and Jim's birthday was January 4. He had a little less than four weeks to go and more journals than there were days until that date. He was a fast reader, but there was much to get through. He began to spend most of the hours in the day and many hours in the night going through them.
Spock read quickly through the first year on the Enterprise. Many of the entries in this year were Jim being worried, stressed, angry or upset, often expressing irritation and animosity towards Spock. It was not a part of Jim he wanted to remember in much detail.
But when he began reaching the entries that chronicled Jim's transition from hating Spock to loving him, he began reading a little more carefully. It was interesting to see how the Human's feelings changed, to compare them to the timeline of his own change of heart.
“Spock's finally decided I'm worth his time, I guess. He saw me playing chess in the rec room with Chekov and asked me, all incredulous, if I played. I told him hell yes I play chess regularly and I'm pretty damn good at it too. He watched me whoop Chekov's ass, then asked for a game sometime. I guess the only way to a Vulcan's heart is through logic and board games?”
* * *
"So I guess Spock is pretty good at chess himself. We played three games and he won twice. I guess that's what I get for not taking him seriously.”
* * *
“This last away mission didn't go so well. There was a misunderstanding and the natives ended up attacking us in fear - a few people were hurt, but Spock got the worst of it. Stupid bastard thought that because he's a high and mighty Vulcan he could take a beating better than us lowly Humans, so he ended up protecting a group of people and breaking half his ribs in the process. Fucking asshole. Bones told me he busted up one of his hands pretty bad too which is supposed to be a pretty serious injury for Vulcans. I went and told Spock he had better get well fucking soon so I can beat the shit out of him in chess because I've been practicing and like hell I'm going to let that go to waste.”
* * *
“Spock and I have been talking over our chess games. I guess he's a pretty decent guy when he's not being a Vulcan with a stick up his ass. He and Uhura broke up recently. I didn't know that until he mentioned it but he seemed really unbothered by it, so... Yeah. Maybe he's just being Vulcan or maybe he really doesn't care that much. I dunno. But the fact that he's single now seemed almost like a relief, I guess, hell if I know why. Yeah, okay, he's hot, but it's Spock. I think I just really need to get laid.”
* * *
“I swear if that Vulcan asshole beats me at chess one more time I am going to put him in the brig. Does this count as insubordination? I think it does.”
* * *
“I had the weirdest damn dream in the history of weird dreams the other night and I can't stop thinking about it. I really don't want to talk about it but basically it involved Spock. Not cool. It's seriously been way too fucking long since I've had sex and it really, really sucks.”
* * *
“I had this really long conversation with Spock today. We were going to play chess but we started talking about stuff and just never stopped, I guess. Our conversation was kind of all over the place but we talked about some touchy stuff too. It's getting close to two years since the Narada Massacre and Spock mentioned that now that the New Vulcan colony has gotten on its feet, his dad is thinking of taking a new wife and that led to me talking about my stepdad and how shitty he was and I apologized about the shit I said to him about his mom when everything happened. He was quiet for a second then he said that he knew I didn't mean it, and didn't need to apologize. I totally call bullshit on that but it was a relief to know that at least it's not something he holds against me. I don't want Spock to hate me anymore.”
* * *
“I've been talking with Bones a lot and he keeps saying he “knows” I have a crush on Spock, which I don't. I really don't and it's kind of getting on my nerves that he keeps saying that. Spock is a cool guy and we are friends, but that's all. We get along well now, but shouldn't that be how it is for all Captains and their First Officers? Bones doesn't know what he's talking about. Spock is great but I wouldn't want to date him.”
* * *
“Haven't written in a while. I got hurt pretty bad on an away mission the day after the last entry. I was unconscious for about fourteen hours according to Bones and I've spent the last two days in Sickbay getting all kinds of brain scans and shit because it was a head injury but Bones has finally said I'm ok now so now I'm back. Spock visited me a couple times when I was in Sickbay and that made me happy. It's nice to know he cares.”
* * *
“Okay. So maybe I have a crush on Spock. Whatever. It's not like that means anything.”
* * *
“Fucking Bones! The two of us plus Spock had dinner together tonight and he just... ugh that asshole makes me so mad. He kept teasing me about Spock right in front of him to embarrass me but vaguely enough that Spock had no idea what he was talking about and when he asked, Bones would just look at me and like hell I'm going to explain it so Spock got all frustrated and put out which made me feel like shit. Fucking Bones can really be the biggest dickface in the universe sometimes.”
* * *
“Fuck my life. Fucking Bones convinced me to tell Spock I wanted to date him so I did and things didn't go down so well and now I wish I was dead. Ugh fucking Bones! Why do I even listen to him? I knew Spock didn't feel like that about me and Bones just kept saying shit to get my hopes up and now I don't even know if I can be friends with Spock anymore. Fucking Bones!! Now I have to go up and spend eight hours on the bridge with Spock being embarrassed and shit because he knows I like him more than I should and just fuck this all sucks shit.”
* * *
“Holy shit. Today was insane. It was fucking insane and I'm so fucking happy right now it's stupid. Today Spock practically busted into my quarters and told me that he wanted to be with me too, that he was just scared yesterday and he wasn't scared now. So we are. We're together. I could be like a high schooler and say he's my “boyfriend” but I'm going to try and sound like a mature adult here. I'm just so fucking happy I don't even know how to describe it. I'm not even excited about the sex - no that's a lie, I'm excited about the sex, yeah, but I'm way the hell more excited that I just get to be with him, I guess. Even if the rumors were true (and they're not) about Vulcans all being asexual I would still be thrilled out of my mind. I probably sound like a crazy ass teenager right now so I'll stop freaking out.”
* * *
“It's crazy to think it's been a whole month now. I really think this is going to work out. We are so fucking awesome together. We are going to be the best power couple in the whole damn galaxy.”
* * *
“So I guess we've been all secretive and shit for no reason because literally no one was surprised when we kissed at the Christmas party last night. At least the crew is cool with it though I think some of them are disappointed. Too bad!”
* * *
“I love Spock. This is terrifying and awesome and I don't know how to actually say this to his face but I'm so stupidly in love with him I don't even know, this is like shit out of a gushy teeny bop romcom so it's probably better that I keep this to myself.”
* * *
“Let it be known that it was Spock who said I Love You first! And that I said it back about half a second later. Spock, if you ever read this, I fucking love you so fucking much right now, you don't even know. I love you!!”
* * *
“So usually I don't write long mushy entries about Spock but considering that we're being bonded tomorrow morning on New Vulcan, I think that this gives me an excuse to wax poetic about him just this once. Spock is amazing. Spock is literally my other half and hell if I know what I'd do without him. We are each other's complements and we just fit together so great, it's unbelievable. You'd think a Vulcan would be cold but they're not, Spock's really not. He seems that way on the outside but on the inside he feels, and he feels so fucking much. He loves me just as much as I love him, we are the perfect team in every sense. He told me a Vulcan word once to describe what we are - t'hy'la, which means someone who is a friend, sibling, and lover, like a soulmate in every possible sense.
To be honest I thought something like this would never happen, not to me. I've always had this idea in my head that I'm just way too fucked up, have too much baggage that comes with me - that no one would ever want to be with me long-term, would want to be committed to me. But it has happened and it's the best thing that could have ever happened to me, because it's happening with me and Spock. I would always think that no one would ever love me - not my mom, not my brother, so certainly no one else could love me either. But now I can look at Spock and I know that love has a face. Spock is my everything. Tomorrow we are going to be bonded and after that we have the rest of our lives together. Spock, if you ever read this - you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, ever. I love you more than I know how to say and I hope you know that. I'm so fucking excited to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. Don't ever forget that.”
The severed bond cried out desperately in Spock's head. He knew Jim loved him, and the reminder of it was more than enough to make him acutely aware of the pain that had been left behind, that would never be fully eased. He would never forget.
“I know, t'hy'la,” he found himself saying softly, gingerly touching the declaration on the page. “I know.”
* * *
A few days later, Pavel knocked on Spock's door at five thirty-two in the evening. Spock was slightly surprised for a moment, then said, “Come in.”
The smaller man opened the door. He was dressed in nicer clothes than those he wore on a day-to-day basis, and Spock could smell that he was wearing some kind of fragrance.
“I just wanted to let you know,” Pavel said, looking a bit embarrassed, “I'll be out this evening.”
“May I ask where it is that you are going?” Spock asked, curious. Pavel hesitated, a ruddy flush coming over his cheeks.
“I'm, ah, going on a date with someone, I suppose you could say,” Pavel said, and Spock raised an eyebrow.
“...I see,” he said.
“So I will be gone until later tonight. Obviously you are welcome to use the replicator and everything. I set out food and drink for Kuro so no need for you to worry about him.” He hesitated, and when Spock did not answer, continued, “Well, I am going now. I will be back in a few hours.” He retreated, closing Spock's door behind him.
Spock leaned back in his chair. That had certainly been an unexpected conversation. Pavel had not mentioned previously that he was seeing anyone, so it was likely this was a new development. Spock was not entirely sure how to react, but he supposed that whatever was going on in Pavel's personal life did not really concern him.
It seemed strange, almost, that Pavel was seeing other people. Spock knew that it had been over a year and a half since Hikaru Sulu had passed away, and he knew that Humans did not generally mate for life, and often would take another mate after a previous mate had died. He knew it, but he did not really understand it.
Spock could not imagine a life with anyone other than Jim - his life was made up of two parts, parts spent with Jim and parts spent without. There would be no one else. He would not form another bond with another person. It was simply - unthinkable. He wondered if he would ever get to the point where he might consider changing his mind and taking another mate - but he could not imagine it, not even for Pon Farr.
But apparently Pavel did not feel the same way. Spock thought about the remarkably Human ability to move on and wondered which of them, Pavel or himself, would be better off in the long run.
* * *
There was no mention of the “date” after that. Either it did not go spectacularly well or Pavel had realized that his actions had seemed to cause Spock some discomfort and so chose to not bring it up again.
Saint Petersburg had become blanketed in snow. It was now mid-December, with the winter solstice soon approaching. Even in the warm clothes Pavel had provided for him Spock still found himself often cold, so on a day that was relatively warm Pavel took him to go and buy a thick overcoat to wear over the sweaters and scarves he already had.
“I am sorry about the weather,” Pavel said, several times.
“It is illogical to apologize about something you have no control over,” Spock finally answered.
“Yes, well. I should have made sure to get you an overcoat as well. I am too used to living here, I did not think of what you would need,” Pavel sighed.
“Then it is not the weather you are apologizing about.”
“No, I suppose you are right. But still, I am sorry.”
Spock ended up getting an imported black overcoat that fell to his knees made of Rigellian wool. Pavel tried to pay for it but Spock insisted on using his own credit chip, as it was a relatively expensive item and it would belong to him. Somehow Pavel seemed put out that Spock did not allow him to purchase it for him, which he did not understand. Spock had long ago resigned himself to the fact that there were complexities of Human interactions he would likely never understand.
They took a taxi back to Pavel's home, as snow had begun sprinkling down again. It was quiet as they drove back, but Spock did not feel calm. He only wanted to get back so he could get through another journal. He had only two weeks and four days left until Jim's birthday.
The taxi dropped them off and they made their way carefully up the front steps that had been cleared of ice that morning but were slick with new snow. They stepped through the doorway and Pavel paused as he closed the front door behind them.
“Mr. Spock,” he said before Spock could get too far.
“Yes?” Spock replied, turning back to face him.
“I - Well, I hope you do not think I am being rude, sir, but I would like to ask you something,” he said. “You spend so much time upstairs, what is it that you do up there?” There was an uncertain pause before he added nervously, “I just worry about you a bit, sir.”
Spock studied him for a moment, considering. He had no reason to withhold the truth save for the fact that it made him uneasy to discuss it, and that was not a good reason.
“For most of Jim's life, he kept a journal,” Spock said. “I have been reading them.”
He had not spoken of them to anyone else before. Saying the words with his mouth seemed to give the journals some kind of place in reality they had not had before, as if speaking of them somehow solidified them into being - which was illogical because obviously they had been real before and would continue to be real, but it felt that way nevertheless.
Pavel looked at first surprised, then sheepish, then he gave Spock a small, sad smile.
“I see,” he answered. “That is... That sounds - comforting.” He hesitated, and looked away as he pulled his scarf off from around his neck and placed it on a hook near the door where a few other scarves and hats hung. “Hikaru didn't leave anything behind, not anything like that at least. Just our home in San Francisco - and the cat.” He chuckled and shook his head, then looked back at Spock, who was just watching him, his expression blank.
“And you kept the cat,” Spock said finally, and Pavel chuckled again.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I kept the cat.” He smiled wistfully. “I am sorry for asking, Mr. Spock. I just worry. I know how easy it is to lose the days doing nothing, but it is not so with you, I see. I apologize. I am just a nosy person, I suppose.”
“It is of no consequence,” Spock answered. “When I - when there is no longer someone to keep them, I believe I will give them to Starfleet. It is an extensive collection that I am sure the historians will appreciate. Many of his belongings have already gone to Starfleet's history department.”
Pavel sighed and looked out the window. The snow had begun to fall harder, beginning to obscure the dirty slush from the day before.
“That will be us someday, I suppose,” he said. “All our lives, condensed into textbook chapters and museum exhibits.” Spock did not know what to say to that. The reality of the passage of time was never an easy thing to face, no matter how many times it had been faced before.
“...Indeed,” he said simply, and that was all that could be said.
* * *
“Today is the last day of what will probably be our last five-year mission. Normally we would be getting a good six month's worth of leave at least, but since the war broke out with the Romulans last year, Starfleet can't afford to let the best and brightest sit out for more than a week or two. We're all needed in other places so in two weeks when Spock and I return to the Enterprise, no one else on the bridge will be the same. I know that it's unrealistic to think that I would be working with the same people throughout my entire Starfleet career, but having spent the last ten years with these people on this ship, it's become hard to separate the thought of the Enterprise from the thought of my command crew - Nyota Uhura, Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov, Leonard McCoy, Montgomery Scott - and Spock. By law they have to put me and Spock on the same ship since we're bonded, but we will be the only ones of the command crew returning to the Enterprise to fight. Sulu was granted captaincy of his own ship that will be patrolling near the Enterprise so I'll probably get to talk with him on a bit of a regular basis, at least. Scotty and Chekov are heading back to Starfleet HQ to work with Intel. Uhura's being snagged by Intel too but she's doing more fieldwork type stuff. Where she'll be going is classified so I don't even know where they're sending her, probably some kind of spy stuff on Romulus, she has all the luck. Bones will be stationed as the head physician at the hospital on Starbase 34, where the most seriously injured people get sent since it's close to the Neutral Zone. So it will just be me and Spock on the Enterprise, patrolling sector four of the Neutral Zone, fighting Romulans and shit. I believe that the new crew will be just as competent as the crew I'm with now, but I know it's not going to be an easy transition for me. But I'll have Spock, so I guess I can't complain.”
* * *
“First day on patrol with the new crew. It seems like all my officers will be pretty easy to work with but there was an incident with an ensign using a homophobic slur to Spock's face so he's going to be transferred to another ship first thing tomorrow morning. Not the smartest way to start off your Starfleet career, kids.
No sign of any Romulan activity in my sector yet but it's just the first day. It'll be here eventually.”
* * *
“Klingons have announced they are aligning themselves with the Romulans against the Federation. I guess when it rains it fucking pours.”
* * *
“No major battles yet but there have been a shit ton of skirmishes. Never sure what's going to happen next. Stressed as fuck.”
* * *
“Pike died today. Stupid idiot old man shouldn't have even been on the front lines but he's always done this stupid shit and it's finally caught up with him and I just
Why? Wasn't it bad enough that my real father is dead? Why did the only father figure I've ever had have to go to? Can one person's life really be this shitty?”
* * *
“Writing for the first time in three weeks. My leg was hit by a Klingon disruptor in the last skirmish. Things weren't looking good for a while. But I'm doing better now. Physical therapy starts tomorrow. I will walk again. Pike didn't give up when he was injured. He wouldn't want me to give up. I will walk again. I will walk again.”
* * *
“I walked down the Medbay hall today, by myself. Fuck yeah.”
* * *
“Only have a minute to write but I think this cease-fire is going to work. Spock & I about to go to Romulan ship to discuss. I'm hoping.
UPDATE The Romulan commander seemed open to what we had to say, is taking our proposal back to Romulus to discuss w/ leaders. Could be a miracle in the making, everything is looking good so far but I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much.”
* * *
“That's the thing about Romulans. Federation portrays them as this angry bloodthirsty race when in reality they are just scared, of us, of what might happen to their planet. The war is over now, just like that. We were all scared of each other. Except for the Klingons, they just wanted to get in on the fighting. Pretty sure they're gonna stir up trouble for a little while longer but the Romulans don't want to fight anymore and that's good.
It really hurts to think Pike died so close to the end. He could have made it. He would have been so fucking proud of me for that ceasefire. I wish he could be here now, I really really do.”
* * *
“Spock and I will finally be getting our end-of-mission leave. We've got a year to ourselves before they ship us out into the black again, and this time we'll be on a science vessel on a three-year mission. I know Spock is really excited about it and I think I've had enough captaining to last a lifetime so I don't mind. But in the meantime we're buying a house on New Vulcan. Pretty domestic of us. I like it.
Still miss Pike a lot but each day is getting easier. I dunno if it's good or bad but I guess that's just the way time works.”
* * *
When Spock realized that he had read through three entire journals in less than twelve hours, he decided it was definitely time to take a break.
He eased himself out of his chair, his joints stiff and aching in protest, and made his way downstairs where he could hear Pavel watching the holoscreen.
Pavel glanced up at him as he stepped into the room, a look of pleasant surprise crossing his features.
“May I sit here?” Spock asked, gesturing to the end of the couch Pavel was not occupying.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, gesturing for Spock to sit down, so he settled himself into the seat. The news was on the screen, with a woman with her hair cropped short interviewing a heavyset younger male in a suit.
“So how are the political waters looking for President Le to run for another term in office?” the woman was asking.
They watched the two converse about politics for a while before Pavel turned to Spock and said,
“You know, Mr. Spock, Christmas is in three days.”
“So it is,” Spock replied.
“I know it is not a holiday you celebrate, and I know you are not religious, sir, but I am planning on attending Christmas Eve midnight mass. If you would like to come, sir, I think you would enjoy it.” He paused, looking hopeful for a moment, then added hastily, “You do not need to make a decision right away, of course, but the invitation is there.”
Then he looked back to the holoscreen as the man in the suit exclaimed,
“Exactly! That's exactly the problem. If you'll look at what President Le's opposition is really demanding, it's clear that no person who's given this any thought would want them in office...”
Spock stopped listening, instead considering Pavel's offer.
When he had celebrated Christmas with Jim, they had rarely gone to a religious service as part of the celebration. Christmas was generally celebrated with a small party and gift exchange on the Enterprise, though he knew that there were many religious services onboard the ship for the many religions that had holidays around the winter solstice. Though Jim had often expressed ambivalence in a belief in a higher power and religious ceremonies had never held much importance to him, Christmas was a holiday that he did choose to celebrate. The Christmases they did not spend on the Enterprise were spent in Iowa with Jim's family, which was their tradition for many years. Their last few Christmases together had just been quiet celebrations at their home at New Vulcan. They would get each other a gift and have a traditional Christmas dinner, but since it was not a Vulcan holiday, that would be the extent of their celebration. Once or twice when they celebrated it in Iowa, Jim would decide to give a church service a go that year, or Jim's mother would insist on taking them along as she always went to Christmas Eve church services, but it was not the norm.
Really, he had no reason to celebrate Christmas now. It was not a Vulcan holiday, nor did he have a religious obligation to observe it. He had not given it much thought before, but he was still used to celebrating it because Jim did.
But this would be the first Christmas Spock would face without Jim. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered, did he really want to let it go by without some kind of observance on his part? Did he really want to spend that holiday alone?
He thought about it and decided that no, he did not.
“I will go with you,” he said simply, and Pavel looked back over at him, eyes wide with surprise, then he smiled.
“Sounds like a plan, then,” he said, and Spock simply nodded in agreement.
If Jim were here, Spock liked to think he would approve of his choice. Jim would choose to accompany Pavel, he was sure - so Spock would do the same.
(part three)
Rating: pg13
Wordcount: ~10,000 / 31,203
Warnings: major character death and all the baggage that comes with it
Disclaimer: don't own, etc.
Summary: Jim has died and Spock struggles to learn how to live without him.
A/N: written for ksrelativity . My prompt was: New Vulcan, notebook, birthday, fireworks.
After that entry, reading the journals took on a sense of urgency that had not been there before. Spock could not entirely explain to himself why this was so - all he knew was that every time he looked at the journals, the only thing he could think about was that he needed to hurry and read them soon, that he had to finish them before -
Before what?
He was not certain. But he needed to finish them.
He began to pick up the pace in his reading and by the time he was packing to travel to Russia, he had just reached the point where Jim had joined Starfleet.
“I really hate that Pike guy,” he wrote, his handwriting messy and scribbled in apparent irritation. “It's none of his business what I do with my life. But something he said stuck with me and I think that's what pisses me off the most. I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing this for me, and I really hate that guy because fuck him, I'm not 'meant for something better' - but I am going to make my life better. Because I want to.”
Spock's eyes crinkled in a slight smile as he closed the journal and packed it carefully into his carry-on bag, where three other journals were kept just as carefully tucked away. He had not known Jim when he was rebellious and angry at the world, but it was not difficult to imagine, and somehow it was an endearing thought.
All of his things had been packed away back into their respective boxes, except for the things Spock had placed into a carry-on to take onto the transport shuttle with him. The shuttle ride from Kenya to St. Petersburg would be seven hours long and he did not wish to go into it empty-handed. It would be a good opportunity to get through several of Jim's journals. The quicker he got through them, the better.
It was still early in the day when one of Nyota's great-grandsons carried Spock's boxes down and out to the front yard, where they would be loaded onto a hovercar and taken to the shuttle port to be sent ahead. Spock watched almost nervously as Jim's box was carried. The young man seemed to notice Spock's unease and carried that box a little more gingerly than he had the others.
When all of the boxes had been sent away, Spock sat in the middle of the room that was now devoid of any traces that he had lived in it for the past month and looked out the window. It had been nice to spend time with Nyota, but he was glad to be moving on. After all the hustle and bustle of living in a household full to the brim with people, staying with Pavel who lived alone would be a welcome change, and Spock hoped the peace and quiet would help him settle his thoughts, that being away from a family would help him stop wishing he had his own. Maybe he would be able to meditate easier, too.
Nyota came into his room and sat down quietly next to him. For a moment neither of them spoke, just sat by each other in silence.
“I'm glad you visited,” Nyota said finally, breaking the silence. “I really appreciate it, you know.”
“I am glad I came,” Spock replied. And he truly was glad, even though he was also glad to be leaving. Had he been alone in an apartment in San Francisco for the past month - or, worse, still on New Vulcan - Spock was sure he would have gone mad by now. But he had kept his sanity, or at least some remnants of it, and it was thanks to Nyota.
“I'll miss you when you go,” Nyota sighed, patting his arm. “But I know Pavel will be happy to see you so I can't feel too sad.” Spock did not reply. After another quiet moment had passed, Nyota added softly, “I think you'll be happy to spend some time with him, too. I hope he can show you that things do get easier.” She patted his arm again and stood up. “Well, it's about time for you to head to the shuttle port. We had better get going. Ikinya's going to drive us again.”
Spock stood up, considering her words. They made their way downstairs where Ikinya was waiting for them, along with a good chunk of the rest of the family.
“Goodbye, Mr. Spock!” The room erupted into noise all at once, people expressing how glad they were he visited and how they'll miss having him around, children babbling that it was fun while it lasted and will he please come visit them again someday, almost all the sentiments indistinct because everyone was trying to talk over each other, and Spock suppressed a smile. He really was glad he had visited.
It took him a while to finish saying his goodbyes, but finally he, Nyota, and Ikinya made their way out of the house and into the hovercar. It was all very quiet compared to the roar of people they had just escaped, and for a moment the only noise was that of the engine humming as they lifted into the air and drove away.
The drive to the shuttle port was a quiet one. Halfway there, Nyota put a hand on Spock's arm, the way she often did, but still said nothing. A sort of melancholy had permeated the hovercar's atmosphere. No one spoke; Spock did not know what to say, and it seemed Nyota did not either.
When they arrived and Ikinya turned the engine off, the three of them sat there uncertainly for a brief moment before Ikinya got out and opened the door for Nyota and Spock. They shuffled out and stood as Ikinya got Spock's carry-on from the back of the hovercar. They looked first out at the shuttle port, then at each other.
“Thank you for having me here,” Spock said finally, breaking the long silence. Nyota smiled, lips trembling as if she might cry.
“Thank you for coming,” she replied, and Spock gave a slight smile that only made hers wider. “You'll always be welcome here, Spock.”
“Indeed,” Ikinya said from where he was standing behind the hovercar, his voice a low rumble compared to Nyota's airy and tremulous tone.
They began to walk towards the shuttle port, cool air blasting them as they stepped through the automatic doors. Spock went to the front desk and they printed his ticket, then went back to where Nyota and Ikinya were standing. This would be where he left them, as only ticket-holders were allowed past the front desk.
“I appreciate your kindness,” Spock said, and this time when Nyota put a hand on his arm he reached out and did the same, his hand resting lightly on her forearm for a brief moment before he took his suitcase from Ikinya.
“Goodbye, Nyota,” he said quietly.
“Goodbye, Spock,” she replied, her voice just as faint, and Spock turned and walked through the small gate separating the front area from the rest of the port, and looked back only after he had gone a good distance. When he did, Nyota and Ikinya were gone. He gazed at where they had been for only a moment longer before moving forward once more.
* * *
The shuttle trip to Saint Petersburg was an uneventful one. There were only nine other individuals on the small shuttle and so Spock had a three-seat row to himself. He certainly did not need so much space, but he was thankful he did not have to be in close proximity to others. He settled into his seat, placed his bag on the seat next to him, pulled out the journal he was working through, and began to read.
“Registering at Starfleet has been pretty annoying. There's so much paperwork. Enlisting as a cadet, registering at the academy, signing up for classes, billions of health forms and shit... Why did I think this was a good idea?”
The seat belt light went on before the shuttle began to lift off. Spock did not even bother to look up.
“The guy I sat next to on the shuttle, McCoy, ended up being my roommate since he was in line to register right in front of me and since we're new recruits we don't get to pick our roommates. Not sure if this will be great or horrible, he seemed like a good guy but he's got a lot of baggage with him. Most of what he talked about on the shuttle was about his divorce which was pretty messy, of course he was definitely buzzed so who knows how much he was exaggerating. Either way he seems a little crazy but I dunno if it's the good crazy or bad crazy yet. Guess I don't have much room to talk though.”
“Can I get you anything, sir?” the flight attendant asked him, her voice soft and just audible over the hum of the shuttle's engine.
“No, thank you,” he replied simply, glancing up briefly. She nodded and smiled and moved on to the next passenger, and he looked back to the journal.
“Anyway, I'm done with most of the registration stuff. Classes start in two weeks. I was planning on going in undeclared but it looks like Pike's chosen for me. I'm on the command track. Fucker. Someday I'm going to get him back for all the shit he's pulling.”
Spock smiled to himself. Jim had been very fond of Admiral Pike - when they had had their wedding ceremony on Earth, after they were bonded, Pike had been there, sitting in the front row in the place Jim's father would have been sitting. When Pike had died in combat towards the end of the Two-Year War, Jim had taken it very, very hard. It was fascinating to see the way that things changed over time.
The entry ended there, and Spock turned the page and read on.
* * *
When the shuttle landed in Saint Petersburg, Spock had read through Jim's time at Starfleet Academy and had begun reading the entry that gave an account of the Narada Massacre, but had stopped. He knew it would be an emotionally trying entry and he did not want to read it in public, and the trip was nearly over. He sat quietly at his seat for twenty-eight minutes and three seconds before the shuttle descended into Saint Petersburg.
“Please be aware that temperatures are currently quite low,” the flight attendant was saying into the intercom. “It is advised that you wear a coat or another warm, heavy article of clothing before exiting the shuttle craft. Thank you for flying with United Earth today...”
Spock pulled his heavy cloak from his bag and pulled it on, tugging the collar up to keep his neck warm. The older he got, the more tiring it was to control his body temperature to adjust to ambient temperatures. It was easier to just wear warm clothing now.
There was a short wait before the passengers were allowed to slowly make their way off the shuttle and into the shuttle port. At the exit gate Spock could see Pavel Chekov waiting for him from a short distance.
Pavel spotted him quickly and waved to ensure his attention with a wide smile - Spock met his gaze and gave a slight nod to acknowledge him as he shuffled through the crowd that had congregated at the exit gate, holding his carry-on bag protectively close to him.
“Mr. Spock,” Pavel said, sounding almost breathless with excitement when Spock finally reached him. “It is so good to see you.”
“I am pleased to be in your presence as well,” Spock said.
“Do you have everything?”
“Yes. I trust my other belongings made it safely to you.”
“Yes, sir, five boxes. I did not open them, of course, sir.”
“Please, there is no need to refer to me as 'sir'.”
“Ah - you are right, of course. My apologies.”
“Shall we go?”
“Yes, yes.”
With that, Pavel turned and led Spock out of the shuttle port, out into the cold Russian afternoon. It was not snowing, but it was cold enough to. Spock pulled his collar up closer around his neck.
Pavel led him out to where his hovercar was parked, helped him load his bag into the trunk, then they shuffled into the car and lifted off.
“I am very glad to see you, Mr. Spock,” Pavel said as he drove.
“You have repeated yourself several times. I can assure you I take your word to be true.” Pavel chuckled at that, his eyes crinkling into a wide, merry smile. Spock wondered if he would ever be able to feel happy, the way Pavel seemingly did now. In the past months he had felt some slight semblances of contentment, maybe gladness - but happiness, real joy, seemed a distant memory, one he doubted he could find again. Pavel had always been a cheerful person. Such emotions did not come so naturally to Spock.
“My apologies,” Pavel said. “I am just not certain what else to say, sir - Spock, Spock, I'm sorry.”
“Do you enjoy living in Russia?” Spock asked, and from the way Pavel's gaze flickered from him back to the air in front of them, he knew the question was a loaded one.
“It has its good parts,” Pavel replied slowly, softly. “Its good parts, and its bad ones.” He left it at that, and Spock knew he would say no more on the matter, not now.
For the remainder of the drive they were both silent, the hum of the engine making the only noise in the hovercar. When they arrived at Pavel's home and landed down on the driveway and stepped out into the cold air, Pavel opened the trunk of the hovercar and pulled Spock's bag out from it. He handed it to Spock and shut the trunk, then paused, his hands resting on the metal. He looked down at his hands pensively for a moment, then over at Spock.
“All I can say, sir,” he said slowly, “is that while Russia is my homeland, and I am always grateful to be here, if I had to choose - I would choose San Francisco, sir, in the same way I know you would choose New Vulcan.”
Spock looked at him, and Pavel smiled sheepishly, and Spock thought that maybe they were not so very different after all.
* * *
When he was settled in, his boxes unpacked and his belongings set out in the guest room of Pavel's home, Spock looked around the room and sighed. It was not as large as his room at Nyota's home had been, not so bright and sunny and colorful. He did not know if he liked it better or worse - then thought it did not matter if he liked it. He was Vulcan, and it was a room just as good as any. The only benefit was that the window was slightly larger, and had a good view of the Saint Petersburg skyline, though one of the neighbors had a large trailer attached to their hovercar that obstructed the view somewhat.
But there was a large comfy chair for him to sit in, and he settled into it, pulled from his bag the journal he had been reading, and looked at it for a moment.
He knew the next entry would be the one containing Jim's account of the destruction of Spock's home planet - of the man's first impressions of him. He was sure they would not be good ones, and he was sure the entry would not be a pleasant one to read. He looked at the journal, then up through the window, then back at the journal again.
He flipped to the last page he had read, and continued.
“Everything has changed,” the entry began, and Spock lingered on the opening for a moment.
“Everything has changed. It's been four days since I last wrote, and in those four days the whole world is completely and irrevocably different from the way it was before.
It started when I took the Kobayashi Maru, for the third time, and used the hack I made to win. The Academy board called a counsel because I had been “cheating” and this Vulcan bastard Spock was behind it. That guy, I don't know what to say about him. I'll talk about him later.
The hearing was interrupted by a distress call from Vulcan. The graduating cadets were given an emergency promotion and put on their assigned ships and sent out. I wasn't supposed to go, because I'm technically on academic probation because of the hearing. But Bones smuggled me on, and definitely not in a pleasant way.
Basically he drugged me and when I woke up I was on the Enterprise and we were in space. An ensign, Chekov, had just read off the mission summary and right away I knew that we were going into a trap. It was described as a lightning storm in space, the same phenomenon that happened when the Kelvin was destroyed by an unknown, very advanced ship about 25 yrs ago. I knew it was that ship and I was right.
I guess if it hadn't been for me, every ship would have been destroyed, instead of all of them but the Enterprise. Or, if it hadn't been for me and the fact that the pilot, Sulu, managed to fuck up the launch and delay us by about a minute. I don't want to think about that.
We got there, it was the ship, which ended up being a ship of angry future Romulans. They demanded Captain Pike go to their ship. Before he left he promoted Spock to captain, and me to first officer. Fucking crazy bastard.
They ended up destroying Vulcan. I'm still not completely certain on the specifics, but I guess in the future they can make black holes with red goopy shit. But it's gone - a whole planet, a whole world, just gone. There are maybe 10,000 survivors between Vulcans that managed to evacuate in time and Vulcans who were off-planet at the time. Everything Vulcan ever did, created, contributed to the Federation - gone. As if the economy isn't already shitty enough, and that's the least of everyone's worries.
I really don't like writing about this. But it's history and it needs to be said so I'll keep writing. I want to make sure everything is written down before we reach Earth and the media twists the story up into something it's not.
After that, I wanted to chase after the Narada which was heading for Earth, but Spock wanted to regroup with the fleet in the Laurentian system. We ended up fighting about it and Spock called security on me. I ended up being ejected from the ship in an escape pod and I landed on Delta Vega, Vulcan's sister planet.
This is where things start to get trippy and I'm not sure if it's safe to talk about what happened. For now all I will say is that due to extremely improbable and very lucky circumstances, I was able to beam back aboard the Enterprise before much time had passed. This time Spock was pissed and we had another fight.
I hated having to do this but I said that Spock must have never loved his mother, to get him to get angry enough at me to attack me, hopefully without seriously hurting me, so that he would give up command because he was emotionally compromised. My plan worked but to say I felt shitty about it is an understatement. But I had command of the ship, and I knew what I needed to do.
I had learned how to beam from one rapidly moving object to another, so using that formula Spock and I ended up beaming aboard the Narada while the Enterprise hid in the magnetic distortion of Saturn's rings. We needed to get Captain Pike back, and disarm the Narada.
For two guys who had been at each other's throats constantly in the past day or two, we worked really, really well as a team. We were able to accomplish both goals. Earth is saved. But Vulcan is still gone, and I feel like I'm going to end up being shoved into being a hero like my father all of a sudden just because I did what needed to be done. I'm not a hero. I don't feel like a hero, at least. All I know is that the Enterprise was just following orders the entire time. I'm just glad they were willing to follow orders from me of all people, and we were able to save those who could still be saved.
Unfortunately our warp drive was destroyed and so now we're puttering back to Earth. It's expected to be another twelve hours but we're almost there. I've been awake and on my feet almost nonstop for the past four days but I couldn't go to sleep without writing this down. Now that I'm done I've got about an hour to sleep before I need to be up again. I'm temporarily captain of this ship, and with so many Vulcan survivors on board there's a metric shit ton of things that need to be done. I'll just be glad when this is over.
I wish there was more I could have done to help, to stop this from happening. I did everything I could and I know none of this is my fault but I still wish I could have done more. The Vulcans have lost everything. I said the worst possible shit to Spock right when he had lost everything. I don't know what's going to happen after this but I don't think I will ever stop feeling guilty about this whole thing. The Narada was what took my dad away, and I couldn't stop it in time to keep it from taking away billions of other people too - other fathers, mothers, children, siblings, friends and families. A whole planet is gone. People are going to call me a hero but I'm not, a real hero would have been able to save Vulcan and I couldn't.”
Spock expelled a heavy breath and looked up through the window, lowering the journal into his lap. The destruction of Vulcan was, a century later, still a topic he did not enjoy speaking of or hearing about. Reading Jim's recounting of the subject, written so shortly after it occurred, brought up memories of the event as fresh and painful as they had been in the days after the catastrophe.
But Jim had not walked away unscathed either. Over the years, Jim apologized for the hurtful words he had spoken that day many, many times over. Spock had long ago forgiven him, but if there was anything that Jim had never quite forgiven himself for, it was that. The circumstances of their first meeting were circumstances that led to an initial relationship of animosity and distrust.
It had taken Spock a long time to see Jim as anything other than a brash and arrogant Human who had become Captain through luck and circumstance. It had taken Jim a long time to see Spock as anything other than a self-righteous and inconsiderate Vulcan who he only begrudgingly acknowledged as the best candidate for First Officer. When their feelings had finally changed, things improved between them in leaps and bounds - but Spock remembered their first year working together, and that first year was easily the most difficult in their entire Starfleet careers.
He thought of the other Spock, the him from the alternate universe that had helped Jim, who Jim had not directly mentioned in the entry. He wondered if that Spock had an easier beginning with his Jim than they had. They probably did - it seemed like it would not be difficult to get off to a start better than what Jim and Spock had. He had never asked for any details of the other Spock's life, but he did know that he did not seem at all surprised when Jim, to whom he maintained a close relationship, announced that they would be bonded.
Jealousy was illogical, but Spock was jealous of the other him, from the other universe. That Spock probably started with a perfectly amicable relationship with his captain. That Spock probably bonded with his Jim in a matter of months instead of years. More than anything Spock wished that he had those years, the year he had spent barely tolerating Jim and the year he had spent fighting his own feelings - how he wished to have those years back, to use them to love Jim instead of hating him. He could have had two years more with Jim than what he had had - but he did not, and he was irrationally jealous of the other Spock who, he had convinced himself, had more time to spend with his Jim than Spock had with his. Envy bubbled in his chest and he could feel the first stirrings of anger -
Spock put the journal away. That was more than enough for the day. He needed to meditate.
* * *
It was strange, waking up in a near-silent house after having spent the past month in a house filled to the brim with people. Spock sat up slowly in bed and spent a moment appreciating the quiet morning, then stood up and pulled a heavy robe on, for it was very cold.
When he made his way down the stairs and into the living room he found Pavel setting a dish of milk onto the floor, which was being watched intently by a black cat that began lapping up the milk as soon as it was on the floor.
“Good morning!” Pavel said brightly. “Oh - this is Kuro. He is a friendly cat, did I mention him before? But he is a nice cat, he won't bother you at all.”
“Good morning,” Spock replied, eying the cat. It appeared to be several years old, at a normal size and with a healthy-looking coat. The cat was evidently well-cared for, and spared a glance at Spock for a brief moment before deciding its milk took precedence over new people.
Spock was fond of cats. All of the feline-like creatures that had been native to Vulcan were very large, and so these small cats had been something of a novelty to him when he first moved to Earth. But he had grown fond of them, and he and Jim had owned two cats in their lives together.
“I do not mind,” Spock added. “I am fond of cats.” Pavel smiled a bit and looked down at the cat, who had finished its milk and was now looking up at Spock. It seemed to consider the new person for a moment, then trotted away nonchalantly to sit in front of a window. Pavel laughed.
“Well, maybe he is not so friendly to strangers,” he admitted. “He is a good cat, though.”
“I do not doubt it,” Spock said.
“Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Spock?” Pavel asked, changing the subject.
“Is your replicator capable of making plomeek soup?” Spock asked.
“As a matter of fact, it is,” Pavel answered, grinning. “I will make you some. Please, come sit down.”
* * *
The thing about staying with Pavel was that he understood Spock better than Nyota had. Nyota had a family - and an extensive one at that - to grieve with her, to support her, to keep her company. Pavel had no one, and neither did Spock. Nyota's husband had passed away several years ago - Pavel's had only been gone about a year and a half.
Pavel understood being alone. He knew what it was like to be where Spock was now, and he knew that more often than not Spock wanted to be alone, and he did not try and press him. Nyota had not either, but it had been difficult to be alone in a house full of people.
It was strange, how Spock had come to Earth to escape being alone, and yet now desired to be alone more often than not. But there was a difference - on New Vulcan Spock had had no choice but to be alone. On Earth he could choose to be alone when he wished or spend time with friends if he wished. He had acquaintances and colleagues on New Vulcan, but no one he could think of as a friend. Vulcans did not particularly buy into the concept of friendship.
So Pavel understood him somewhat better than Nyota had. He respected Spock's need to be alone, and the time they did spend together was quiet. They spoke often of menial things. Pavel did not bring up Jim unless Spock did first, so they spoke of him only a few times.
Pavel understood being alone - what he did not understand was the loneliness of a broken bond that would continue to reach desperately, fruitlessly, for its other half for the rest of Spock's life. It would yearn for his t'hy'la until another bond was formed, and Spock had no intention of forming another bond. No one could take the place of his Jim. So Pavel understood loneliness, but he could never understand a broken bond. Spock had always thought that his ability to form a psychic bond with his t'hy'la was much better than the tenuous relationships Humans maintained, but now he was not sure.
In any case, he was thankful for Pavel's hospitality. He did not think he was ready to go back to his San Francisco apartment yet, but he was getting there. He was adjusting. The transition from staying with Nyota's family to staying with just Pavel and the cat was preparing him for his transition to living alone.
* * *
Pavel generally left Spock to himself, so Spock spent most of his time going through Jim's journals. The sense of urgency he had begun to feel toward them had only increased over the weeks and he knew now what his deadline was - he was desperate to finish all eighty-two of them before Jim's birthday in January. He did not know why, but somehow the idea that it was important to finish reading them before Jim's birthday had taken hold of him and hadn't let go. It was approaching the middle of December, and Jim's birthday was January 4. He had a little less than four weeks to go and more journals than there were days until that date. He was a fast reader, but there was much to get through. He began to spend most of the hours in the day and many hours in the night going through them.
Spock read quickly through the first year on the Enterprise. Many of the entries in this year were Jim being worried, stressed, angry or upset, often expressing irritation and animosity towards Spock. It was not a part of Jim he wanted to remember in much detail.
But when he began reaching the entries that chronicled Jim's transition from hating Spock to loving him, he began reading a little more carefully. It was interesting to see how the Human's feelings changed, to compare them to the timeline of his own change of heart.
“Spock's finally decided I'm worth his time, I guess. He saw me playing chess in the rec room with Chekov and asked me, all incredulous, if I played. I told him hell yes I play chess regularly and I'm pretty damn good at it too. He watched me whoop Chekov's ass, then asked for a game sometime. I guess the only way to a Vulcan's heart is through logic and board games?”
* * *
"So I guess Spock is pretty good at chess himself. We played three games and he won twice. I guess that's what I get for not taking him seriously.”
* * *
“This last away mission didn't go so well. There was a misunderstanding and the natives ended up attacking us in fear - a few people were hurt, but Spock got the worst of it. Stupid bastard thought that because he's a high and mighty Vulcan he could take a beating better than us lowly Humans, so he ended up protecting a group of people and breaking half his ribs in the process. Fucking asshole. Bones told me he busted up one of his hands pretty bad too which is supposed to be a pretty serious injury for Vulcans. I went and told Spock he had better get well fucking soon so I can beat the shit out of him in chess because I've been practicing and like hell I'm going to let that go to waste.”
* * *
“Spock and I have been talking over our chess games. I guess he's a pretty decent guy when he's not being a Vulcan with a stick up his ass. He and Uhura broke up recently. I didn't know that until he mentioned it but he seemed really unbothered by it, so... Yeah. Maybe he's just being Vulcan or maybe he really doesn't care that much. I dunno. But the fact that he's single now seemed almost like a relief, I guess, hell if I know why. Yeah, okay, he's hot, but it's Spock. I think I just really need to get laid.”
* * *
“I swear if that Vulcan asshole beats me at chess one more time I am going to put him in the brig. Does this count as insubordination? I think it does.”
* * *
“I had the weirdest damn dream in the history of weird dreams the other night and I can't stop thinking about it. I really don't want to talk about it but basically it involved Spock. Not cool. It's seriously been way too fucking long since I've had sex and it really, really sucks.”
* * *
“I had this really long conversation with Spock today. We were going to play chess but we started talking about stuff and just never stopped, I guess. Our conversation was kind of all over the place but we talked about some touchy stuff too. It's getting close to two years since the Narada Massacre and Spock mentioned that now that the New Vulcan colony has gotten on its feet, his dad is thinking of taking a new wife and that led to me talking about my stepdad and how shitty he was and I apologized about the shit I said to him about his mom when everything happened. He was quiet for a second then he said that he knew I didn't mean it, and didn't need to apologize. I totally call bullshit on that but it was a relief to know that at least it's not something he holds against me. I don't want Spock to hate me anymore.”
* * *
“I've been talking with Bones a lot and he keeps saying he “knows” I have a crush on Spock, which I don't. I really don't and it's kind of getting on my nerves that he keeps saying that. Spock is a cool guy and we are friends, but that's all. We get along well now, but shouldn't that be how it is for all Captains and their First Officers? Bones doesn't know what he's talking about. Spock is great but I wouldn't want to date him.”
* * *
“Haven't written in a while. I got hurt pretty bad on an away mission the day after the last entry. I was unconscious for about fourteen hours according to Bones and I've spent the last two days in Sickbay getting all kinds of brain scans and shit because it was a head injury but Bones has finally said I'm ok now so now I'm back. Spock visited me a couple times when I was in Sickbay and that made me happy. It's nice to know he cares.”
* * *
“Okay. So maybe I have a crush on Spock. Whatever. It's not like that means anything.”
* * *
“Fucking Bones! The two of us plus Spock had dinner together tonight and he just... ugh that asshole makes me so mad. He kept teasing me about Spock right in front of him to embarrass me but vaguely enough that Spock had no idea what he was talking about and when he asked, Bones would just look at me and like hell I'm going to explain it so Spock got all frustrated and put out which made me feel like shit. Fucking Bones can really be the biggest dickface in the universe sometimes.”
* * *
“Fuck my life. Fucking Bones convinced me to tell Spock I wanted to date him so I did and things didn't go down so well and now I wish I was dead. Ugh fucking Bones! Why do I even listen to him? I knew Spock didn't feel like that about me and Bones just kept saying shit to get my hopes up and now I don't even know if I can be friends with Spock anymore. Fucking Bones!! Now I have to go up and spend eight hours on the bridge with Spock being embarrassed and shit because he knows I like him more than I should and just fuck this all sucks shit.”
* * *
“Holy shit. Today was insane. It was fucking insane and I'm so fucking happy right now it's stupid. Today Spock practically busted into my quarters and told me that he wanted to be with me too, that he was just scared yesterday and he wasn't scared now. So we are. We're together. I could be like a high schooler and say he's my “boyfriend” but I'm going to try and sound like a mature adult here. I'm just so fucking happy I don't even know how to describe it. I'm not even excited about the sex - no that's a lie, I'm excited about the sex, yeah, but I'm way the hell more excited that I just get to be with him, I guess. Even if the rumors were true (and they're not) about Vulcans all being asexual I would still be thrilled out of my mind. I probably sound like a crazy ass teenager right now so I'll stop freaking out.”
* * *
“It's crazy to think it's been a whole month now. I really think this is going to work out. We are so fucking awesome together. We are going to be the best power couple in the whole damn galaxy.”
* * *
“So I guess we've been all secretive and shit for no reason because literally no one was surprised when we kissed at the Christmas party last night. At least the crew is cool with it though I think some of them are disappointed. Too bad!”
* * *
“I love Spock. This is terrifying and awesome and I don't know how to actually say this to his face but I'm so stupidly in love with him I don't even know, this is like shit out of a gushy teeny bop romcom so it's probably better that I keep this to myself.”
* * *
“Let it be known that it was Spock who said I Love You first! And that I said it back about half a second later. Spock, if you ever read this, I fucking love you so fucking much right now, you don't even know. I love you!!”
* * *
“So usually I don't write long mushy entries about Spock but considering that we're being bonded tomorrow morning on New Vulcan, I think that this gives me an excuse to wax poetic about him just this once. Spock is amazing. Spock is literally my other half and hell if I know what I'd do without him. We are each other's complements and we just fit together so great, it's unbelievable. You'd think a Vulcan would be cold but they're not, Spock's really not. He seems that way on the outside but on the inside he feels, and he feels so fucking much. He loves me just as much as I love him, we are the perfect team in every sense. He told me a Vulcan word once to describe what we are - t'hy'la, which means someone who is a friend, sibling, and lover, like a soulmate in every possible sense.
To be honest I thought something like this would never happen, not to me. I've always had this idea in my head that I'm just way too fucked up, have too much baggage that comes with me - that no one would ever want to be with me long-term, would want to be committed to me. But it has happened and it's the best thing that could have ever happened to me, because it's happening with me and Spock. I would always think that no one would ever love me - not my mom, not my brother, so certainly no one else could love me either. But now I can look at Spock and I know that love has a face. Spock is my everything. Tomorrow we are going to be bonded and after that we have the rest of our lives together. Spock, if you ever read this - you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, ever. I love you more than I know how to say and I hope you know that. I'm so fucking excited to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. Don't ever forget that.”
The severed bond cried out desperately in Spock's head. He knew Jim loved him, and the reminder of it was more than enough to make him acutely aware of the pain that had been left behind, that would never be fully eased. He would never forget.
“I know, t'hy'la,” he found himself saying softly, gingerly touching the declaration on the page. “I know.”
* * *
A few days later, Pavel knocked on Spock's door at five thirty-two in the evening. Spock was slightly surprised for a moment, then said, “Come in.”
The smaller man opened the door. He was dressed in nicer clothes than those he wore on a day-to-day basis, and Spock could smell that he was wearing some kind of fragrance.
“I just wanted to let you know,” Pavel said, looking a bit embarrassed, “I'll be out this evening.”
“May I ask where it is that you are going?” Spock asked, curious. Pavel hesitated, a ruddy flush coming over his cheeks.
“I'm, ah, going on a date with someone, I suppose you could say,” Pavel said, and Spock raised an eyebrow.
“...I see,” he said.
“So I will be gone until later tonight. Obviously you are welcome to use the replicator and everything. I set out food and drink for Kuro so no need for you to worry about him.” He hesitated, and when Spock did not answer, continued, “Well, I am going now. I will be back in a few hours.” He retreated, closing Spock's door behind him.
Spock leaned back in his chair. That had certainly been an unexpected conversation. Pavel had not mentioned previously that he was seeing anyone, so it was likely this was a new development. Spock was not entirely sure how to react, but he supposed that whatever was going on in Pavel's personal life did not really concern him.
It seemed strange, almost, that Pavel was seeing other people. Spock knew that it had been over a year and a half since Hikaru Sulu had passed away, and he knew that Humans did not generally mate for life, and often would take another mate after a previous mate had died. He knew it, but he did not really understand it.
Spock could not imagine a life with anyone other than Jim - his life was made up of two parts, parts spent with Jim and parts spent without. There would be no one else. He would not form another bond with another person. It was simply - unthinkable. He wondered if he would ever get to the point where he might consider changing his mind and taking another mate - but he could not imagine it, not even for Pon Farr.
But apparently Pavel did not feel the same way. Spock thought about the remarkably Human ability to move on and wondered which of them, Pavel or himself, would be better off in the long run.
* * *
There was no mention of the “date” after that. Either it did not go spectacularly well or Pavel had realized that his actions had seemed to cause Spock some discomfort and so chose to not bring it up again.
Saint Petersburg had become blanketed in snow. It was now mid-December, with the winter solstice soon approaching. Even in the warm clothes Pavel had provided for him Spock still found himself often cold, so on a day that was relatively warm Pavel took him to go and buy a thick overcoat to wear over the sweaters and scarves he already had.
“I am sorry about the weather,” Pavel said, several times.
“It is illogical to apologize about something you have no control over,” Spock finally answered.
“Yes, well. I should have made sure to get you an overcoat as well. I am too used to living here, I did not think of what you would need,” Pavel sighed.
“Then it is not the weather you are apologizing about.”
“No, I suppose you are right. But still, I am sorry.”
Spock ended up getting an imported black overcoat that fell to his knees made of Rigellian wool. Pavel tried to pay for it but Spock insisted on using his own credit chip, as it was a relatively expensive item and it would belong to him. Somehow Pavel seemed put out that Spock did not allow him to purchase it for him, which he did not understand. Spock had long ago resigned himself to the fact that there were complexities of Human interactions he would likely never understand.
They took a taxi back to Pavel's home, as snow had begun sprinkling down again. It was quiet as they drove back, but Spock did not feel calm. He only wanted to get back so he could get through another journal. He had only two weeks and four days left until Jim's birthday.
The taxi dropped them off and they made their way carefully up the front steps that had been cleared of ice that morning but were slick with new snow. They stepped through the doorway and Pavel paused as he closed the front door behind them.
“Mr. Spock,” he said before Spock could get too far.
“Yes?” Spock replied, turning back to face him.
“I - Well, I hope you do not think I am being rude, sir, but I would like to ask you something,” he said. “You spend so much time upstairs, what is it that you do up there?” There was an uncertain pause before he added nervously, “I just worry about you a bit, sir.”
Spock studied him for a moment, considering. He had no reason to withhold the truth save for the fact that it made him uneasy to discuss it, and that was not a good reason.
“For most of Jim's life, he kept a journal,” Spock said. “I have been reading them.”
He had not spoken of them to anyone else before. Saying the words with his mouth seemed to give the journals some kind of place in reality they had not had before, as if speaking of them somehow solidified them into being - which was illogical because obviously they had been real before and would continue to be real, but it felt that way nevertheless.
Pavel looked at first surprised, then sheepish, then he gave Spock a small, sad smile.
“I see,” he answered. “That is... That sounds - comforting.” He hesitated, and looked away as he pulled his scarf off from around his neck and placed it on a hook near the door where a few other scarves and hats hung. “Hikaru didn't leave anything behind, not anything like that at least. Just our home in San Francisco - and the cat.” He chuckled and shook his head, then looked back at Spock, who was just watching him, his expression blank.
“And you kept the cat,” Spock said finally, and Pavel chuckled again.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I kept the cat.” He smiled wistfully. “I am sorry for asking, Mr. Spock. I just worry. I know how easy it is to lose the days doing nothing, but it is not so with you, I see. I apologize. I am just a nosy person, I suppose.”
“It is of no consequence,” Spock answered. “When I - when there is no longer someone to keep them, I believe I will give them to Starfleet. It is an extensive collection that I am sure the historians will appreciate. Many of his belongings have already gone to Starfleet's history department.”
Pavel sighed and looked out the window. The snow had begun to fall harder, beginning to obscure the dirty slush from the day before.
“That will be us someday, I suppose,” he said. “All our lives, condensed into textbook chapters and museum exhibits.” Spock did not know what to say to that. The reality of the passage of time was never an easy thing to face, no matter how many times it had been faced before.
“...Indeed,” he said simply, and that was all that could be said.
* * *
“Today is the last day of what will probably be our last five-year mission. Normally we would be getting a good six month's worth of leave at least, but since the war broke out with the Romulans last year, Starfleet can't afford to let the best and brightest sit out for more than a week or two. We're all needed in other places so in two weeks when Spock and I return to the Enterprise, no one else on the bridge will be the same. I know that it's unrealistic to think that I would be working with the same people throughout my entire Starfleet career, but having spent the last ten years with these people on this ship, it's become hard to separate the thought of the Enterprise from the thought of my command crew - Nyota Uhura, Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov, Leonard McCoy, Montgomery Scott - and Spock. By law they have to put me and Spock on the same ship since we're bonded, but we will be the only ones of the command crew returning to the Enterprise to fight. Sulu was granted captaincy of his own ship that will be patrolling near the Enterprise so I'll probably get to talk with him on a bit of a regular basis, at least. Scotty and Chekov are heading back to Starfleet HQ to work with Intel. Uhura's being snagged by Intel too but she's doing more fieldwork type stuff. Where she'll be going is classified so I don't even know where they're sending her, probably some kind of spy stuff on Romulus, she has all the luck. Bones will be stationed as the head physician at the hospital on Starbase 34, where the most seriously injured people get sent since it's close to the Neutral Zone. So it will just be me and Spock on the Enterprise, patrolling sector four of the Neutral Zone, fighting Romulans and shit. I believe that the new crew will be just as competent as the crew I'm with now, but I know it's not going to be an easy transition for me. But I'll have Spock, so I guess I can't complain.”
* * *
“First day on patrol with the new crew. It seems like all my officers will be pretty easy to work with but there was an incident with an ensign using a homophobic slur to Spock's face so he's going to be transferred to another ship first thing tomorrow morning. Not the smartest way to start off your Starfleet career, kids.
No sign of any Romulan activity in my sector yet but it's just the first day. It'll be here eventually.”
* * *
“Klingons have announced they are aligning themselves with the Romulans against the Federation. I guess when it rains it fucking pours.”
* * *
“No major battles yet but there have been a shit ton of skirmishes. Never sure what's going to happen next. Stressed as fuck.”
* * *
“Pike died today. Stupid idiot old man shouldn't have even been on the front lines but he's always done this stupid shit and it's finally caught up with him and I just
Why? Wasn't it bad enough that my real father is dead? Why did the only father figure I've ever had have to go to? Can one person's life really be this shitty?”
* * *
“Writing for the first time in three weeks. My leg was hit by a Klingon disruptor in the last skirmish. Things weren't looking good for a while. But I'm doing better now. Physical therapy starts tomorrow. I will walk again. Pike didn't give up when he was injured. He wouldn't want me to give up. I will walk again. I will walk again.”
* * *
“I walked down the Medbay hall today, by myself. Fuck yeah.”
* * *
“Only have a minute to write but I think this cease-fire is going to work. Spock & I about to go to Romulan ship to discuss. I'm hoping.
UPDATE The Romulan commander seemed open to what we had to say, is taking our proposal back to Romulus to discuss w/ leaders. Could be a miracle in the making, everything is looking good so far but I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much.”
* * *
“That's the thing about Romulans. Federation portrays them as this angry bloodthirsty race when in reality they are just scared, of us, of what might happen to their planet. The war is over now, just like that. We were all scared of each other. Except for the Klingons, they just wanted to get in on the fighting. Pretty sure they're gonna stir up trouble for a little while longer but the Romulans don't want to fight anymore and that's good.
It really hurts to think Pike died so close to the end. He could have made it. He would have been so fucking proud of me for that ceasefire. I wish he could be here now, I really really do.”
* * *
“Spock and I will finally be getting our end-of-mission leave. We've got a year to ourselves before they ship us out into the black again, and this time we'll be on a science vessel on a three-year mission. I know Spock is really excited about it and I think I've had enough captaining to last a lifetime so I don't mind. But in the meantime we're buying a house on New Vulcan. Pretty domestic of us. I like it.
Still miss Pike a lot but each day is getting easier. I dunno if it's good or bad but I guess that's just the way time works.”
* * *
When Spock realized that he had read through three entire journals in less than twelve hours, he decided it was definitely time to take a break.
He eased himself out of his chair, his joints stiff and aching in protest, and made his way downstairs where he could hear Pavel watching the holoscreen.
Pavel glanced up at him as he stepped into the room, a look of pleasant surprise crossing his features.
“May I sit here?” Spock asked, gesturing to the end of the couch Pavel was not occupying.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, gesturing for Spock to sit down, so he settled himself into the seat. The news was on the screen, with a woman with her hair cropped short interviewing a heavyset younger male in a suit.
“So how are the political waters looking for President Le to run for another term in office?” the woman was asking.
They watched the two converse about politics for a while before Pavel turned to Spock and said,
“You know, Mr. Spock, Christmas is in three days.”
“So it is,” Spock replied.
“I know it is not a holiday you celebrate, and I know you are not religious, sir, but I am planning on attending Christmas Eve midnight mass. If you would like to come, sir, I think you would enjoy it.” He paused, looking hopeful for a moment, then added hastily, “You do not need to make a decision right away, of course, but the invitation is there.”
Then he looked back to the holoscreen as the man in the suit exclaimed,
“Exactly! That's exactly the problem. If you'll look at what President Le's opposition is really demanding, it's clear that no person who's given this any thought would want them in office...”
Spock stopped listening, instead considering Pavel's offer.
When he had celebrated Christmas with Jim, they had rarely gone to a religious service as part of the celebration. Christmas was generally celebrated with a small party and gift exchange on the Enterprise, though he knew that there were many religious services onboard the ship for the many religions that had holidays around the winter solstice. Though Jim had often expressed ambivalence in a belief in a higher power and religious ceremonies had never held much importance to him, Christmas was a holiday that he did choose to celebrate. The Christmases they did not spend on the Enterprise were spent in Iowa with Jim's family, which was their tradition for many years. Their last few Christmases together had just been quiet celebrations at their home at New Vulcan. They would get each other a gift and have a traditional Christmas dinner, but since it was not a Vulcan holiday, that would be the extent of their celebration. Once or twice when they celebrated it in Iowa, Jim would decide to give a church service a go that year, or Jim's mother would insist on taking them along as she always went to Christmas Eve church services, but it was not the norm.
Really, he had no reason to celebrate Christmas now. It was not a Vulcan holiday, nor did he have a religious obligation to observe it. He had not given it much thought before, but he was still used to celebrating it because Jim did.
But this would be the first Christmas Spock would face without Jim. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered, did he really want to let it go by without some kind of observance on his part? Did he really want to spend that holiday alone?
He thought about it and decided that no, he did not.
“I will go with you,” he said simply, and Pavel looked back over at him, eyes wide with surprise, then he smiled.
“Sounds like a plan, then,” he said, and Spock simply nodded in agreement.
If Jim were here, Spock liked to think he would approve of his choice. Jim would choose to accompany Pavel, he was sure - so Spock would do the same.
(part three)