Present for anne_higgins
Title: Do I love you so much that I'm willing to let you go?
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/McCoy; with cameos by assorted other crewmembers
Warnings: Explicit sex (see rating), but no kinks
Recipient: Anne Higgins
Author's Notes: Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Star Trek. Really. I promise. I don't own any of the lyrics or graphics either.
I have no idea how this turned into something akin to a songfic, I just went where my muse demanded me to go. It also turned out to be 23.200 words long, but I won't apologize for that. ;-)
I hope it's what Anne Higgins had in mind. Prompt can be found at the end of the story.
Title taken from the Meat Loaf song "Did I Say That?".
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So this is what it feels like
To be the one left behind
To give it all you've got then find
You've already changed your mind
And this is what it sounds like
Crying on the bed that we both made
Waiting for a sign that you just can't give me
Any kind of sign
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It wasn't easy getting out of a Starfleet assignment. Signing up for a five year mission on a Starfleet ship meant exactly that - every single crewmember of the Enterprise had signed up for five years in space, on this very ship. In fact, there were only three official ways to get out of that kind of assignment: official reassignment to another post by Starfleet Command, a reassignment due to injury or psychological conditions that rendered the crewmember unable to further serve on a starship, and personal reasons.
And while personal reasons sounded like it could imply practically anything, Starfleet had very strict limitations on what that implied. In fact, it had to be either of two things - personal conflict with the Commanding Officer, or a family-related reassignment.
Starfleet valued family, and the chance to be stationed closer to them was a valid argument to request a different assignment.
Bones had the ultimate argument to leave Enterprise and get himself stationed at that research facility in Atlanta if he wanted to. Not to mention that whoever was running that facility was going to push hard for Bones' reassignment once they caught wind of his availability. Jim still remembered what a struggle it had been to get Bones assigned to Enterprise in the first place two years back. Not only had a number of other Captains wanted the doctor on their ships after word of what exactly he had achieved during the attack by Nero, there had been an equal number of positions in various research facilities offered to him. Back then, Jim hadn't even worried that Bones was going to contemplate even a single one of those offers as long as Jim was able to push for his assignment aboard the Enterprise.
Right now, all that meant that if Bones wanted to leave the Enterprise, he had any number of job opportunities to fall back on, jobs that were equally attractive as that of CMO aboard the fleet's flagship.
It all came back to one thing - Bones could leave easily if he wanted to. And given what Jocelyn was offering him, he'd be stupid not to want that.
And apparently, word traveled fast.
Merely a day after Jim had watched Jocelyn's video message, Enterprise received a data package from Earth. It was amongst the daily business Jim had to deal with whenever they were this close to home, so at first there wasn't anything unusual about it. Starfleet was sending them official documents as well as the personnel files of the handful of new crewmembers that were going to come aboard. Else there was private communication mostly, letters and video messages for the crew from friends and family back home - and one large package of data for Bones, from the Atlanta Branch of Starfleet Medical.
That settled it then.
A day later, Jim signed off on an unscheduled video call from Bones' quarters. The call lasted ten minutes, and the recipient was one Joanna McCoy. Sweetheart, Daddy's coming home.
Jim felt the bile rise in his throat.
He was in a daze. He went through the motions, did his duty, but it felt as if everything which normally was the highpoint of his day had faded into nothing more than white noise around the edges. Being Captain was a chore now that it had become his duty to take the ship to the place where Bones was going to leave.
The crew could feel it, too. There was none of the usual lighthearted feeling on the bridge during shifts. It was as if everyone could feel the tension and distraction radiate from Jim, and reacted accordingly. Normally, Jim would never let that happen, but right now he couldn't even bring himself to care.
Every day they traveled, every light-year they got closer to Earth, was yet another step closer to losing Bones. And the closer they got, the more it became everything Jim could think of.
He was torn.
Part of him wanted to spend every minute with his friend. He wanted to latch onto Bones and never let him go again, he wanted to tell Bones that he loved him - all pretence and dignity be damned - and that he couldn't leave him. Jim wasn't above begging, not anymore. Not if it was going to help make Bones stay.
But another part of him knew that he couldn't do that.
Even if what Jim felt, those feelings that went beyond mere friendship, were mutual - which they weren't, Jim knew that - he had no right to do that to Bones. Despite everything Jocelyn promised, leaving Enterprise was going to be hard enough for the other man. Jim had no right to make it even harder for him.
If Bones thought there was anything on Enterprise worth staying for, he wouldn't contemplate another Starfleet posting. And compared to the promise of having Joanna back in his life, nothing on Enterprise was worth staying for. Not for Bones. So Jim didn't even need to bother trying.
Besides, it was pretty obvious that ever since that video message from Jocelyn and the subsequent arrival of the job offer from Atlanta, Bones was evading him. His visits to the bridge, previously a fixture in Jim's life, had become less frequent and reliable, and outside of duty he didn't seek him out at all. It wasn't even the lack of sexual encounters that worried Jim. Those had never followed a schedule before in those few months since they had started. But Bones was withdrawing from Jim on all the levels that counted, in everything that had defined their friendship over the past years. And if Jim had still needed any confirmation that Bones was preparing to leave, this was it.
The rest of the crew seemed to get more excited with every day they got closer to Earth, but Jim's mood only got darker and darker. He avoided going down to Medical, and even when Bones came to the bridge to deliver the daily reports, something that had become a tradition Jim had actually grown quite fond of over the past years, now he barely glanced at Jim when he handed over the PADD.
They didn't touch anymore, either. Until now, Jim hadn't even been aware of how much physical contact they actually had, how many casual brushes, touches or claps to the shoulder were a part of their daily lives. Jim missed it. He missed the easy proximity, the way he could be himself when he was around the other man. But he was going to have to live without that soon enough, and he'd better get used to it.
He would have to learn how to live without Bones' sheer physical presence in his life, something no subspace transmission was ever going to be able to replace even if they stayed in contact.
Jim didn't even want to think about the sex. Or about the fact that it was so much more than just an act of physical satisfaction for him. Those moments of stolen intimacy were tearing him apart as it was, because they were a glimpse of something he could never fully have, no matter how much he craved for it. Doing without it…Jim didn't want to think about it.
The days started to blend into each other, a numb mixture of duty shifts, paperwork, and hours off duty during which he locked himself into his quarters, the one place where he didn't have to hold it together all the time. There was hardly any difference between day and night, since undisturbed sleep was out of the question. When he wasn't tossing and turning in search of elusive sleep, he found himself waking up from nightmares of Bones and Jocelyn happy and in love and together, with Joanna at their side. Either that, or his dreams left him waking up aroused and panting, with the phantom of Bones' scent lingering in the air and the feeling of his hands on his skin. Probably, those dreams were even worse than the ones about how happy Bones was going to be without him.
It was torture either way, and it didn't allow Jim more than two or three hours of straight sleep at night. His crew noticed. There was no way they couldn't notice how different Jim was acting now that they were approaching Earth. If anything, the dark circles under his eyes were a clear indication that something was wrong. And judged by the surreptitious glances his bridge crew was shooting in his direction whenever it happened once more that Jim took too long to notice that someone was talking to him, they all noticed. Spock in particular seemed as if he was just waiting for an opportune moment to give Jim a stern talking to about slacking off on the job. Or the Vulcan equivalent of that talk, anyway.
And the worst was that Jim didn't care. Of course he still cared about the wellbeing of his crew, but in the face of losing Bones, he couldn't draw any more enjoyment out of the fact that everything was running smoothly and his crew was safe and in good spirits. He couldn't even feel grateful that his crew cared enough to get worried about him.
Jim, on the other hand, felt like he was drowning, and everyone else was just standing by and watched as he was pulled under.
Just two more days until Bones was going to leave, and Jim no longer knew if he was doing the right thing. Being in Bones' presence, just seeing him was enough to tear him apart from the inside, yet at the same time there was that constant temptation to simply drag the other man to his quarters and spend the little time that remained in bed in an attempt to create a few more memories for Jim to hang on to once Bones was gone.
He would only torture himself more if he did that.
Jim didn't want a goodbye fuck, no matter how much he craved to feel Bones' hands on him again. He wanted the other man completely, but instead Bones was going to leave him in less than forty-eight hours.
In light of that, nothing about being Captain of Starfleet's flagship seemed important or interesting anymore. Jim wondered what that said about his priorities, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He sat through yet another impossibly long alpha shift on the bridge. They were still on a straight course towards Earth, and this close to home nothing, absolutely nothing was happening. Of course not. Jim hadn't expected any different. But it meant alpha shift consisted of eight hours of sitting in his chair, staring straight ahead as the stars flashed by the view screen. Being Captain sucked sometimes. It seemed that everyone aboard the bridge had an assigned task, a console to work on or readings to analyze. Jim only had his chair, and his morose thoughts to keep him company.
The eight hour shift dragged on forever, but finally the time for shift change rolled around. Jim handed command over to Spock and immediately turned towards the turbolift. He only wanted to get to the treacherous safety of his quarters, away from curious eyes. He needed to find a way to deal with what was going to happen, and he most certainly wasn't going to find that on the bridge, where he had to keep up the façade of the capable Captain before all else.
"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."
"Aye Commander."
Jim's brain hadn't even registered the conversation when a hand stopped the turbolift doors from closing, and Spock stepped into the small space with him. Jim stared straight ahead as the lift started to move, but he knew that Spock hadn't joined him because he enjoyed the ride. And indeed, Spock immediately turned towards Jim.
"A word, Captain?"
Seeing that there was no way to avoid this, Jim merely sighed and gestured for Spock to continue.
"Go on."
"I have noticed that you're showing progressive signs of anxiety and stress. Since those show no sign of getting better but instead seem to get worse the closer we get to Earth, I was wondering if there is anything you feel you need to be concerned about upon our return."
It was as much an admission of worry as Jim was ever going to get out of his First Officer. And in any other situation it would have been touching. But right now, Jim only wanted to get out. The lift was too small and stuffy, even though Jim knew that the air filtering system worked in here just as it did in any other place on the ship. But to Jim it felt oppressive, and he needed to get out before he was going to freak out. Already, the collar of his uniform shirt felt too tight, and he could feel the sweat pop up on his forehead.
The lift arrived at Jim's destination, but Spock stopped the doors from opening with a quick movement of his hand against the wall panel. Jim drew breath to protest, but Spock cut him off.
"Your behavior of the past weeks does not correspond with anything you have shown over the past two years, which leads me to the conclusion that something extraordinary is the cause of it. If it has anything to do with the ship's business…"
"If there was anything concerning the ship that needs your attention, I'd let you know, Commander. But there is nothing going on other than that I'm off duty and you're keeping me from going to my quarters. Was there anything else?"
Jim knew that his tone was unusually sharp, but right now he was too exhausted and worked up to care. He really had different problems than worrying whether or not the tone of his voice was too harsh for his First Officer's sensibilities.
Spock regarded him for a few moments, then he shook his head.
"Nothing, Captain."
"Good. Then I'm going to get something to eat now. Commander."
"Captain." Spock inclined his head and pressed the panel again so that the doors opened with a pneumatic hiss. Jim forced himself not to flee from the lift, but no matter how hard he tried he could not keep the sense of haste out of his steps as he went down the corridor towards his quarters.
He needed to get away, from Spock, from the bridge, from everybody else. He needed to able alone with all those conflicting thoughts inside his head. And if that meeting with Spock had told him anything, then that he needed to find a way to get a grip on himself. That Bones was leaving might be tearing him apart, but he had to find a way not to let that shine through.
Jim breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his quarters without further interruption by anybody else, but there was nowhere he could run from his thoughts. Or from the fact that it was only a matter of time until his heart was going to be torn right out of his chest.
Jim threw himself flat on his back on the bed and pressed his hands over his face.
Rationally, he knew that he should learn how to deal with this. He was going to have to get used to a life without Bones in it. And damn it, he had lived like that for over twenty years, it shouldn't be that hard.
But now that he had a taste of what this felt like, this unconditional friendship and loyalty, the reassurance that he always had someone to fall back on and - even more important - the knowledge that he wasn't only taking this but giving it back in return, Jim didn't want to let it go ever again.
He should have known. For all his life, letting people get close to him, letting them in and learning how to depend on them, only ended up in pain and abandonment. And now he hadn't only fallen for Bones' friendship, but also for the prospect of something more, something he knew he could never have, but something he couldn't stop thinking about now that it had seemed within reach.
He shouldn't have fallen for Bones, it was as easy as that.
He shouldn't have mistaken passion and sex for intimacy and love.
He shouldn't have allowed himself to fall in love.
But now it had happened, and because it was a universal rule that nothing good could ever work out in the life of James Tiberius Kirk, it was all torn away from him again. Not only the man he had fallen in love with and secretly pined over, but also the best friend he had ever had. And Jim couldn't help but wonder if all this was the punishment for some sort of universal test he had failed. Maybe if he hadn't given in to those feelings he should have never allowed himself to feel, if he had been content with what he had instead of wanting that which he couldn't have, maybe then Bones would have stayed.
No way to find out now though.
Jim wanted to curl up on the bed and cry, but it wasn't as if that was going to help any. Breaking down into a pathetic mess wasn't going to change anything.
Jim had never been passive in any way. He was the kind of guy to take action rather than to sit by and watch things happen. Only, in this case there was absolutely nothing he could do. This was his real Kobayashi Maru, and the ultimate proof that something like a no-win scenario truly existed.
Two more days, and Jim had absolutely no idea how he was going to get through them. Maybe he should just stay here in his quarters until they made space dock. He could call in sick. Or not, because if Jim was sick (or pretended to be, in any case) it fell under Bones' responsibilities. So calling in sick in order to avoid Bones was kinda redundant.
Just great.
He should get up.
He hadn't eaten anything since that toast he hard forced down for breakfast. He should eat something and then get to work. There were plenty of reports to sign and all kinds of other administrative stuff that needed to be dealt with before they docked at Jupiter Station. Maybe he could stay in his quarters under the pretense of doing paperwork for the next two days.
Whatever he was going to do, he should maybe start with getting up, although it didn't seem worth the effort. Not when lying here seemed so much easier, and so much less painful than anything else. He could just keep lying here, claiming that he had fallen asleep until they made it back to Earth. Nobody would believe him, of course, but Spock already thought he had issues, anyway.
The lights seemed too blinding, but Jim felt too tired to even order the computer to shut them down. Instead, he flung his arm over his eyes and remained lying right where he was. He'd figure out what to later, when he didn't feel like every movement was too much of an effort to even bother with it.
He didn't fall asleep, though. Sleep would have been a reprieve, and for some reason the universe thought Jim hadn't earned those. He just lay there, trying to evade all the morose thoughts running through his head.
Part 3
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Kirk/McCoy; with cameos by assorted other crewmembers
Warnings: Explicit sex (see rating), but no kinks
Recipient: Anne Higgins
Author's Notes: Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Star Trek. Really. I promise. I don't own any of the lyrics or graphics either.
I have no idea how this turned into something akin to a songfic, I just went where my muse demanded me to go. It also turned out to be 23.200 words long, but I won't apologize for that. ;-)
I hope it's what Anne Higgins had in mind. Prompt can be found at the end of the story.
Title taken from the Meat Loaf song "Did I Say That?".
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So this is what it feels like
To be the one left behind
To give it all you've got then find
You've already changed your mind
And this is what it sounds like
Crying on the bed that we both made
Waiting for a sign that you just can't give me
Any kind of sign
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It wasn't easy getting out of a Starfleet assignment. Signing up for a five year mission on a Starfleet ship meant exactly that - every single crewmember of the Enterprise had signed up for five years in space, on this very ship. In fact, there were only three official ways to get out of that kind of assignment: official reassignment to another post by Starfleet Command, a reassignment due to injury or psychological conditions that rendered the crewmember unable to further serve on a starship, and personal reasons.
And while personal reasons sounded like it could imply practically anything, Starfleet had very strict limitations on what that implied. In fact, it had to be either of two things - personal conflict with the Commanding Officer, or a family-related reassignment.
Starfleet valued family, and the chance to be stationed closer to them was a valid argument to request a different assignment.
Bones had the ultimate argument to leave Enterprise and get himself stationed at that research facility in Atlanta if he wanted to. Not to mention that whoever was running that facility was going to push hard for Bones' reassignment once they caught wind of his availability. Jim still remembered what a struggle it had been to get Bones assigned to Enterprise in the first place two years back. Not only had a number of other Captains wanted the doctor on their ships after word of what exactly he had achieved during the attack by Nero, there had been an equal number of positions in various research facilities offered to him. Back then, Jim hadn't even worried that Bones was going to contemplate even a single one of those offers as long as Jim was able to push for his assignment aboard the Enterprise.
Right now, all that meant that if Bones wanted to leave the Enterprise, he had any number of job opportunities to fall back on, jobs that were equally attractive as that of CMO aboard the fleet's flagship.
It all came back to one thing - Bones could leave easily if he wanted to. And given what Jocelyn was offering him, he'd be stupid not to want that.
And apparently, word traveled fast.
Merely a day after Jim had watched Jocelyn's video message, Enterprise received a data package from Earth. It was amongst the daily business Jim had to deal with whenever they were this close to home, so at first there wasn't anything unusual about it. Starfleet was sending them official documents as well as the personnel files of the handful of new crewmembers that were going to come aboard. Else there was private communication mostly, letters and video messages for the crew from friends and family back home - and one large package of data for Bones, from the Atlanta Branch of Starfleet Medical.
That settled it then.
A day later, Jim signed off on an unscheduled video call from Bones' quarters. The call lasted ten minutes, and the recipient was one Joanna McCoy. Sweetheart, Daddy's coming home.
Jim felt the bile rise in his throat.
He was in a daze. He went through the motions, did his duty, but it felt as if everything which normally was the highpoint of his day had faded into nothing more than white noise around the edges. Being Captain was a chore now that it had become his duty to take the ship to the place where Bones was going to leave.
The crew could feel it, too. There was none of the usual lighthearted feeling on the bridge during shifts. It was as if everyone could feel the tension and distraction radiate from Jim, and reacted accordingly. Normally, Jim would never let that happen, but right now he couldn't even bring himself to care.
Every day they traveled, every light-year they got closer to Earth, was yet another step closer to losing Bones. And the closer they got, the more it became everything Jim could think of.
He was torn.
Part of him wanted to spend every minute with his friend. He wanted to latch onto Bones and never let him go again, he wanted to tell Bones that he loved him - all pretence and dignity be damned - and that he couldn't leave him. Jim wasn't above begging, not anymore. Not if it was going to help make Bones stay.
But another part of him knew that he couldn't do that.
Even if what Jim felt, those feelings that went beyond mere friendship, were mutual - which they weren't, Jim knew that - he had no right to do that to Bones. Despite everything Jocelyn promised, leaving Enterprise was going to be hard enough for the other man. Jim had no right to make it even harder for him.
If Bones thought there was anything on Enterprise worth staying for, he wouldn't contemplate another Starfleet posting. And compared to the promise of having Joanna back in his life, nothing on Enterprise was worth staying for. Not for Bones. So Jim didn't even need to bother trying.
Besides, it was pretty obvious that ever since that video message from Jocelyn and the subsequent arrival of the job offer from Atlanta, Bones was evading him. His visits to the bridge, previously a fixture in Jim's life, had become less frequent and reliable, and outside of duty he didn't seek him out at all. It wasn't even the lack of sexual encounters that worried Jim. Those had never followed a schedule before in those few months since they had started. But Bones was withdrawing from Jim on all the levels that counted, in everything that had defined their friendship over the past years. And if Jim had still needed any confirmation that Bones was preparing to leave, this was it.
The rest of the crew seemed to get more excited with every day they got closer to Earth, but Jim's mood only got darker and darker. He avoided going down to Medical, and even when Bones came to the bridge to deliver the daily reports, something that had become a tradition Jim had actually grown quite fond of over the past years, now he barely glanced at Jim when he handed over the PADD.
They didn't touch anymore, either. Until now, Jim hadn't even been aware of how much physical contact they actually had, how many casual brushes, touches or claps to the shoulder were a part of their daily lives. Jim missed it. He missed the easy proximity, the way he could be himself when he was around the other man. But he was going to have to live without that soon enough, and he'd better get used to it.
He would have to learn how to live without Bones' sheer physical presence in his life, something no subspace transmission was ever going to be able to replace even if they stayed in contact.
Jim didn't even want to think about the sex. Or about the fact that it was so much more than just an act of physical satisfaction for him. Those moments of stolen intimacy were tearing him apart as it was, because they were a glimpse of something he could never fully have, no matter how much he craved for it. Doing without it…Jim didn't want to think about it.
The days started to blend into each other, a numb mixture of duty shifts, paperwork, and hours off duty during which he locked himself into his quarters, the one place where he didn't have to hold it together all the time. There was hardly any difference between day and night, since undisturbed sleep was out of the question. When he wasn't tossing and turning in search of elusive sleep, he found himself waking up from nightmares of Bones and Jocelyn happy and in love and together, with Joanna at their side. Either that, or his dreams left him waking up aroused and panting, with the phantom of Bones' scent lingering in the air and the feeling of his hands on his skin. Probably, those dreams were even worse than the ones about how happy Bones was going to be without him.
It was torture either way, and it didn't allow Jim more than two or three hours of straight sleep at night. His crew noticed. There was no way they couldn't notice how different Jim was acting now that they were approaching Earth. If anything, the dark circles under his eyes were a clear indication that something was wrong. And judged by the surreptitious glances his bridge crew was shooting in his direction whenever it happened once more that Jim took too long to notice that someone was talking to him, they all noticed. Spock in particular seemed as if he was just waiting for an opportune moment to give Jim a stern talking to about slacking off on the job. Or the Vulcan equivalent of that talk, anyway.
And the worst was that Jim didn't care. Of course he still cared about the wellbeing of his crew, but in the face of losing Bones, he couldn't draw any more enjoyment out of the fact that everything was running smoothly and his crew was safe and in good spirits. He couldn't even feel grateful that his crew cared enough to get worried about him.
Jim, on the other hand, felt like he was drowning, and everyone else was just standing by and watched as he was pulled under.
Just two more days until Bones was going to leave, and Jim no longer knew if he was doing the right thing. Being in Bones' presence, just seeing him was enough to tear him apart from the inside, yet at the same time there was that constant temptation to simply drag the other man to his quarters and spend the little time that remained in bed in an attempt to create a few more memories for Jim to hang on to once Bones was gone.
He would only torture himself more if he did that.
Jim didn't want a goodbye fuck, no matter how much he craved to feel Bones' hands on him again. He wanted the other man completely, but instead Bones was going to leave him in less than forty-eight hours.
In light of that, nothing about being Captain of Starfleet's flagship seemed important or interesting anymore. Jim wondered what that said about his priorities, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He sat through yet another impossibly long alpha shift on the bridge. They were still on a straight course towards Earth, and this close to home nothing, absolutely nothing was happening. Of course not. Jim hadn't expected any different. But it meant alpha shift consisted of eight hours of sitting in his chair, staring straight ahead as the stars flashed by the view screen. Being Captain sucked sometimes. It seemed that everyone aboard the bridge had an assigned task, a console to work on or readings to analyze. Jim only had his chair, and his morose thoughts to keep him company.
The eight hour shift dragged on forever, but finally the time for shift change rolled around. Jim handed command over to Spock and immediately turned towards the turbolift. He only wanted to get to the treacherous safety of his quarters, away from curious eyes. He needed to find a way to deal with what was going to happen, and he most certainly wasn't going to find that on the bridge, where he had to keep up the façade of the capable Captain before all else.
"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."
"Aye Commander."
Jim's brain hadn't even registered the conversation when a hand stopped the turbolift doors from closing, and Spock stepped into the small space with him. Jim stared straight ahead as the lift started to move, but he knew that Spock hadn't joined him because he enjoyed the ride. And indeed, Spock immediately turned towards Jim.
"A word, Captain?"
Seeing that there was no way to avoid this, Jim merely sighed and gestured for Spock to continue.
"Go on."
"I have noticed that you're showing progressive signs of anxiety and stress. Since those show no sign of getting better but instead seem to get worse the closer we get to Earth, I was wondering if there is anything you feel you need to be concerned about upon our return."
It was as much an admission of worry as Jim was ever going to get out of his First Officer. And in any other situation it would have been touching. But right now, Jim only wanted to get out. The lift was too small and stuffy, even though Jim knew that the air filtering system worked in here just as it did in any other place on the ship. But to Jim it felt oppressive, and he needed to get out before he was going to freak out. Already, the collar of his uniform shirt felt too tight, and he could feel the sweat pop up on his forehead.
The lift arrived at Jim's destination, but Spock stopped the doors from opening with a quick movement of his hand against the wall panel. Jim drew breath to protest, but Spock cut him off.
"Your behavior of the past weeks does not correspond with anything you have shown over the past two years, which leads me to the conclusion that something extraordinary is the cause of it. If it has anything to do with the ship's business…"
"If there was anything concerning the ship that needs your attention, I'd let you know, Commander. But there is nothing going on other than that I'm off duty and you're keeping me from going to my quarters. Was there anything else?"
Jim knew that his tone was unusually sharp, but right now he was too exhausted and worked up to care. He really had different problems than worrying whether or not the tone of his voice was too harsh for his First Officer's sensibilities.
Spock regarded him for a few moments, then he shook his head.
"Nothing, Captain."
"Good. Then I'm going to get something to eat now. Commander."
"Captain." Spock inclined his head and pressed the panel again so that the doors opened with a pneumatic hiss. Jim forced himself not to flee from the lift, but no matter how hard he tried he could not keep the sense of haste out of his steps as he went down the corridor towards his quarters.
He needed to get away, from Spock, from the bridge, from everybody else. He needed to able alone with all those conflicting thoughts inside his head. And if that meeting with Spock had told him anything, then that he needed to find a way to get a grip on himself. That Bones was leaving might be tearing him apart, but he had to find a way not to let that shine through.
Jim breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his quarters without further interruption by anybody else, but there was nowhere he could run from his thoughts. Or from the fact that it was only a matter of time until his heart was going to be torn right out of his chest.
Jim threw himself flat on his back on the bed and pressed his hands over his face.
Rationally, he knew that he should learn how to deal with this. He was going to have to get used to a life without Bones in it. And damn it, he had lived like that for over twenty years, it shouldn't be that hard.
But now that he had a taste of what this felt like, this unconditional friendship and loyalty, the reassurance that he always had someone to fall back on and - even more important - the knowledge that he wasn't only taking this but giving it back in return, Jim didn't want to let it go ever again.
He should have known. For all his life, letting people get close to him, letting them in and learning how to depend on them, only ended up in pain and abandonment. And now he hadn't only fallen for Bones' friendship, but also for the prospect of something more, something he knew he could never have, but something he couldn't stop thinking about now that it had seemed within reach.
He shouldn't have fallen for Bones, it was as easy as that.
He shouldn't have mistaken passion and sex for intimacy and love.
He shouldn't have allowed himself to fall in love.
But now it had happened, and because it was a universal rule that nothing good could ever work out in the life of James Tiberius Kirk, it was all torn away from him again. Not only the man he had fallen in love with and secretly pined over, but also the best friend he had ever had. And Jim couldn't help but wonder if all this was the punishment for some sort of universal test he had failed. Maybe if he hadn't given in to those feelings he should have never allowed himself to feel, if he had been content with what he had instead of wanting that which he couldn't have, maybe then Bones would have stayed.
No way to find out now though.
Jim wanted to curl up on the bed and cry, but it wasn't as if that was going to help any. Breaking down into a pathetic mess wasn't going to change anything.
Jim had never been passive in any way. He was the kind of guy to take action rather than to sit by and watch things happen. Only, in this case there was absolutely nothing he could do. This was his real Kobayashi Maru, and the ultimate proof that something like a no-win scenario truly existed.
Two more days, and Jim had absolutely no idea how he was going to get through them. Maybe he should just stay here in his quarters until they made space dock. He could call in sick. Or not, because if Jim was sick (or pretended to be, in any case) it fell under Bones' responsibilities. So calling in sick in order to avoid Bones was kinda redundant.
Just great.
He should get up.
He hadn't eaten anything since that toast he hard forced down for breakfast. He should eat something and then get to work. There were plenty of reports to sign and all kinds of other administrative stuff that needed to be dealt with before they docked at Jupiter Station. Maybe he could stay in his quarters under the pretense of doing paperwork for the next two days.
Whatever he was going to do, he should maybe start with getting up, although it didn't seem worth the effort. Not when lying here seemed so much easier, and so much less painful than anything else. He could just keep lying here, claiming that he had fallen asleep until they made it back to Earth. Nobody would believe him, of course, but Spock already thought he had issues, anyway.
The lights seemed too blinding, but Jim felt too tired to even order the computer to shut them down. Instead, he flung his arm over his eyes and remained lying right where he was. He'd figure out what to later, when he didn't feel like every movement was too much of an effort to even bother with it.
He didn't fall asleep, though. Sleep would have been a reprieve, and for some reason the universe thought Jim hadn't earned those. He just lay there, trying to evade all the morose thoughts running through his head.
Part 3