Don't Stop Believing 1.8/?
Title: Don't Stop Believing 1.8/?
Fandom: ST XI Reboot
Pairing: Pike/Spock for now, later Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Beta: musical_magic
Warning: Explicit adult situations
Story summary: Struggling to find his place in the universe, Spock meets exceptional people along the way. Slow-building Pike/Spock, and in time slow-building Kirk/Spock.
Chapter summary: Whatever happens to all good things. Sometimes, it's not what it seems to be. End of Part I.
Prologue | 1.1| 1.2 | 1.3| 1.4 | 1.5| 1.6| 1.7
Spock graduates a year later as a full lieutenant and at the top of his class. During this time, he only sees Pike several times. After the obligatory court-martial following the loss of his ship, Pike is offered a choice between taking another command or another tenure at the Academy. He chooses the ship, telling everyone he’s missed the captain’s chair, but Spock knows better.
Pike is very uneasy about their teacher-student situation. They both know that neither of them has been coerced by the other, but they also know how it will look. It might cost them both their careers, and neither is willing to risk ruining the other’s life.
Still, it’s painful to say goodbye, even if it’s just for a while. Spock buries himself in his studies, but he still misses Pike terribly.
Spock is easily the most wanted graduate of the year and as such has a wide choice of postings offered to him. He requests the position of the science officer on the Nelson, and is easily granted his wish, as his predecessor is due for a promotion. Pike welcomes him aboard and invites him for a game of kal-toh later in his quarters. Spock arrives on time. They don’t play.
Their lovemaking is never again as violent as it has been the first time. Pike has never quite gotten over that first encounter, terrified at himself and the things he did to Spock. No matter how often Spock reminds him that it has been consensual and that he wanted it this way, Pike doesn’t really forgive himself such a total loss of control.
Their connection grows deeper still. Pike is a gentle and considerate lover and Spock readily becomes pliant wax in his arms. Pike likes to take him slowly, tenderly, spending eons in foreplay and preparation. Spock basks in his loving attention, which still comes as a surprise to him.
They are extremely discreet. Very few people are in on their relationship, even though they are breaking no regulations. On board the Nelson, only Pike’s first officer Number One and his CMO Philip Boyce know the truth. Pike considers them close friends and trusts them implicitly. They have been serving under him for a long time and they have had the time to get to know Spock and respect him before Pike tells them. Spock is relieved to receive their quiet approval.
A year slips by and then another one. Spock is conducting a lot of research, fascinated by the new discoveries. Pike continues to coach him unobtrusively in command, and they still have their endless debates, which amuse the bridge crew to no end.
Early hours of morning find them in the captain’s cabin. Spock is sprawled face down on the bed, his arms hugging the pillow. Pike is on top of him, fucking him methodically in long, even strokes. He changes his angle, and Spock moans. Pike’s hand on Spock’s cock moves in time with his thrusts, and Spock can feel they are both nearing completion.
Suddenly, Pike stops, buried deep within him, and releases his hold on Spock, allowing him to sink into the mattress. Spock bucks his hips instinctively, seeking friction, but Pike presses him down.
“Shh. Be still.”
Spock freezes. Slowly, Pike lowers himself to cover Spock’s body, spreading his weight on him carefully.
“All right?”
“You are torturing me,” Spock complains, voice muffled by the pillow.
Pike chuckles. “Serves you right for all you do to me.”
Spock can feel Pike’s cock throb within him. It’s a striking contrast with Pike’s otherwise immobile form, and it’s exciting beyond belief. In fact, it’s absolutely maddening.
“I can’t resist you,” Pike whispers, his fingers sifting through Spock’s tousled hair. “You know that? As if it’s not enough that you’re so smart; oh, no. You had to be beautiful, too. You had to be so insufferably attractive so people would lose their heads as well as their hearts.”
“Mutilation is not my preference.”
Pike’s teeth sink into his shoulder in revenge. Spock gasps. “A sense of humor is overkill, don’t you think?”
“I do not believe insulting me is your prerogative as my commanding officer.”
Pike trails kisses and nibbles down Spock’s spine. “You’re perfect. You’d shame Greek gods to shreds. They’d kill you out of envy with a lightning bolt. Or turn you into a tree.”
“Christopher, you are beginning to sound ridiculous. I am not beautiful.”
“Are too.”
“Your emotions hinder your objectivity.”
“And your damn modesty hinders yours.”
“I am not modest. Merely realistic. Whereas you-”
“I love you. I want you to learn to love yourself, too.”
Spock knows they are at an impasse here and he doesn’t want to upset Pike, but he can’t lie to him, either. He settles for a third option instead and squeezes his ass around Pike without warning.
“You bastard,” Pike growls, jerking up, forced into resuming his thrusts. “That’s cheating, Spock, and you’re so paying for this later.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Later, as they lie side by side, spent and sated, Spock feels a strange disquiet in Pike. Always sensitive to the others’ moods, Spock feels unsurprisingly close to this human. He props himself up on his elbow and runs a finger gently across Pike’s chest. Pike’s wandering gaze settles on Spock and he smiles.
“What is it, Christopher?”
Pike’s smile fades. He catches Spock’s hand and squeezes lightly.
“You’re due for promotion,” he says, watching Spock’s face fixedly.
Spock freezes, startled. “Surely it is too early for that.”
“It’s not. You’re an exceptional officer.”
“Your judgment is impaired.”
“No, it isn’t. I confess I was tempted to hold you back a little to keep you with me, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. Honestly, Spock. When was the last time you looked at your service record? It’s all but exploding with citations for valor - and before you say it, I had nothing to do with that. The Scientific Legion of Honor - and from the VSA no less? Nah, you’re a little overdue if you ask me.”
Spock sits up, looking down at Pike with a frown. “If I am promoted, will I have to leave the ship?”
Pike purses his lips. “You see the problem. With Starfleet’s current policy of spreading the wealth, you won’t be able to serve with me for another rotation or two, that’s for certain.”
“But that can take four to six years, probably more,” Spock says in alarm. “This is unacceptable.”
Pike watches him carefully. “Maybe not.”
Spock stares at him in shock. “Christopher? Are you... tired of me?”
“That’s an incredibly stupid question coming from someone so smart,” Pike snaps. Then, catching a glimpse of Spock’s face, he sits up and pulls the Vulcan close. “Hey, don’t look at me like that.” He kisses Spock deeply, stealing his breath. “I love you, you know that. But that makes me responsible for you and I have to think about what’s better for you, not only for myself.”
“How is it better for me if I have to be without you?”
Pike smiles and kisses him again, unable to stop himself. “Because your life should be about you, Spock. There’s a whole galaxy lying at your feet, waiting for you to take it. Nothing should hold you back, most certainly not a grumpy old man like me.”
“Christopher,” Spock protests, not bothering to suppress his indignation. “You are neither old nor grumpy, you are-”
“Hush.” Pike presses a finger to Spock’s lips. “Spock, our time together is a gift I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve. But you need to move on. You need to reach out for those new horizons. I know what I’m talking about, because I did when I was like you. I had my chance, a fair chance and I’m happy with my life now. I want you to be happy, too.”
Spock breaks away from Pike’s hold and pulls back a little to look him in the eye properly.
“Christopher... Are you terminating our relationship?”
“What?” Pike flinches. “No, Spock, of course not! How can you think that? I’ll never leave you of my own free will, I promise you that. I’m just saying our relationship shouldn’t get in the way of your life, that’s all.”
Spock doesn’t answer. Pike sighs.
“Just think about what I said. Please. Now, about that payback...”
Spock finds himself pushed back into the pillows. His thoughts begin to leave him as Pike’s fingers prod at Spock’s hole, well-stretched and slick from earlier. By the time four fingers have pushed their way in, Spock isn’t sure he’ll ever be capable of coherent thought again. When Pike’s hand curls into a fist inside him, Spock’s mind goes utterly blank with a snap, and all he sees is stars.
“There is a way we can remain together after my promotion,” Spock says.
Pike looks up at him in surprise. They are in the captain’s ready room, and they have never discussed anything personal or showed any open affection outside one of their quarters. Spock is unrepentant. Technically, they are both off duty. Besides, lately Spock feels his time is running short. It’s been over two weeks since he and Pike fell asleep in each other’s arms the last time. Starfleet has been keeping them busy and there is no indication the streak will end any time soon.
“Really?” Pike quirks an eyebrow at him. “What’s that?”
Spock takes a deep breath.
“We can bond.”
Pike stares at him. “Bond? As in marry?”
“Essentially. Starfleet has a policy of not separating married or bonded couples.”
“Spock.” Pike walks around his desk and leans against it, coming face-to-face with his science officer. “I’ve been reading on Vulcan customs. Vulcan bonding is for life. Which means you won’t be able to take another partner while I’m alive.”
“I do not want another partner.”
“You don’t, now. How about in a year? In five years? In ten? Spock, you are very young.”
“I fail to see how my age is relevant since I am past the age of consent.”
“No one should make a life-defining choice in their twenties, Spock.”
“Vulcans make these choices at seven.”
“Really? And how did that work out for you?”
Spock’s eyes widen at the unexpected blow. Pike is studying him calmly.
“There’s something else I read about the bonding,” Pike says quietly. “When one of the spouses dies, their bondmate’s suffering is so terrible that some don’t survive it. Not even full-blooded Vulcans are guaranteed to make it.”
“You are saying that as a half-breed, I don’t stand a chance?”
“No,” Pike’s voice is sharp. “I’m saying that I’m not willing to take that risk. Even if you weren’t Vulcan, I’m much older than you, Spock. I will die much sooner than you. I won’t put you through hell for the sake of my own selfish feelings, no matter how much I want to keep you with me, always. The price is way too high.”
Spock’s protests die on his lips, as Pike levels him with a stern gaze.
“You asked me if we could bond. The answer is no.”
Spock stands there, and his face doesn’t change its expression in the slightest. It’s not as though his whole world has just crumbled to pieces. It’s nothing like that at all.
It goes steadily downhill from there. Spock does think about Pike’s words, trying to understand his reasoning. Spock sees no logic in Pike’s argument, hard as he tries time and again. It simply makes no sense.
They don’t discuss it anymore, and if Spock notices Pike’s worried glances on him sometimes, he doesn’t show it. He analyses the situation repeatedly, and finally, with painful clarity, he sees the truth.
Pike is not in love with him anymore.
It is the only logical conclusion. It is obvious that Pike still cares about him deeply, but the love is gone. If it weren’t, if he was as deep in it as Spock is, Pike would never have allowed trivial matters to interfere in such a prominent way as to make him reject Spock.
Irony becomes Spock’s shelter. Humans always call Vulcans cold-hearted and emotionless, while their own emotions are so remarkably short-lived. Ironic indeed.
Many years ago, Sarek told him that emotions of the Vulcan race ran deep. His father warned him of the danger of having them out of control. Now, only now, Spock finally understands how right, how infinitely wise his father had been.
Spock resolves to devote himself to logic and nothing else. He accepts the promotion to lieutenant commander, but surprises the admiralty with his request for his next posting. Spock asks to be appointed a professor at the Academy, knowing that it’s not something Pike would want for him. Spock has had enough of other people making decisions for him.
The Academy board is delighted to have him. Admiral Barnett goes ecstatic over subspace; it is actually quite embarrassing. Spock is to report to him the moment his ship returns to Earth orbit.
Pike doesn’t comment on his decision. They stop seeing each other outside duty hours, without discussing it, and really, what is there to discuss? They don’t talk to each other outside duty also, and people notice, of course, but they are a well-trained crew and no one says anything.
Spock’s last two months on board pass invariably in the same way each day. He works a shift on the bridge. He works a shift in the lab. He works out for an hour. Meditates for two hours. Sleeps for five. He doesn’t deviate from this routine once. He finds that this new utterly logical way of life is not perhaps as satisfying emotionally as his previous lifestyle has been, but is much more befitting a Vulcan. He is determined to carry on until it’s no longer an effort.
They enter Earth orbit at oh-nine-hundred ship-time. Spock has his transfer paperwork submitted and approved. His sparse belongings are packed, his room vacated, his replacement briefed. He is ready to leave.
He is already standing on the transporter pad when the doors to the transporter room open and Pike walks in. The transporter operator snaps to attention, and Pike nods at him, offering a professional captain’s smile.
“Could you step outside, Ensign?”
“Of course, sir.”
The young man walks through the doors without batting an eyelash - or looking at either officer. Pike turns toward Spock.
“Is there something you wanted, sir?” Spock asks coolly.
“There is,” Pike nods, seemingly unaffected by his tone. “Step down, please.” Spock quirks an eyebrow. Pike sighs. “Please, Spock. Don’t make me make it an order.”
Spock climbs down from the platform and walks toward Pike. “Sir.”
Pike looks at him. He says nothing, merely stares into Spock’s eyes. In speechless wonder, like it’s the first time. In quiet grief, like it’s the last.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” Pike says, and his voice shakes and crumbles. “And I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
This isn’t fair, Spock thinks. It’s not fair that the control he spent months building is breaking to pieces just like that. It’s not fair that he feels so much when he should be feeling nothing. It’s not fair that it has to end like this. Not fair at all.
He doesn’t know who moves first, and the motion is probably nothing more than a deep breath or the slightest bow of a head, but the next moment their arms fly around each other and they are pressed together in a desperate, world-shattering kiss.
Spock is smashed into the wall blindly. Pike’s lips are crushing his; Pike’s tongue is plunging into Spock’s mouth, claiming it for the very last time as his own. Spock moans beneath him, hands twisted inelegantly in Pike’s shirt, craving more contact, more touch, more everything. If he could think, he would say something. Ask the right question, find the right thing to say to make Pike change his mind and stay with Spock forever. But his mind is empty and desperate and he can’t think.
They kiss like the universe ends in a moment, and maybe it does. Spock certainly feels it waver and reel as Pike finally tears away. They pant into each other for a small agonizing eternity before pulling apart. It strikes Spock then in full for the very first time.
It’s over.
Pike tugs at his shirt and Spock smoothes his hair. Silently, slowly, he walks around Pike and resumes his place on the platform. Pike is already standing at the controls as Spock looks up. The captain finds it in him to smile, and Spock feels a surge of admiration surfacing for a moment through the vastness of grave despair.
“Live long and prosper, Christopher.”
“Good luck, Spock.”
End of Part I
Part II 2.1
Fandom: ST XI Reboot
Pairing: Pike/Spock for now, later Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Beta: musical_magic
Warning: Explicit adult situations
Story summary: Struggling to find his place in the universe, Spock meets exceptional people along the way. Slow-building Pike/Spock, and in time slow-building Kirk/Spock.
Chapter summary: Whatever happens to all good things. Sometimes, it's not what it seems to be. End of Part I.
Prologue | 1.1| 1.2 | 1.3| 1.4 | 1.5| 1.6| 1.7
Spock graduates a year later as a full lieutenant and at the top of his class. During this time, he only sees Pike several times. After the obligatory court-martial following the loss of his ship, Pike is offered a choice between taking another command or another tenure at the Academy. He chooses the ship, telling everyone he’s missed the captain’s chair, but Spock knows better.
Pike is very uneasy about their teacher-student situation. They both know that neither of them has been coerced by the other, but they also know how it will look. It might cost them both their careers, and neither is willing to risk ruining the other’s life.
Still, it’s painful to say goodbye, even if it’s just for a while. Spock buries himself in his studies, but he still misses Pike terribly.
Spock is easily the most wanted graduate of the year and as such has a wide choice of postings offered to him. He requests the position of the science officer on the Nelson, and is easily granted his wish, as his predecessor is due for a promotion. Pike welcomes him aboard and invites him for a game of kal-toh later in his quarters. Spock arrives on time. They don’t play.
Their lovemaking is never again as violent as it has been the first time. Pike has never quite gotten over that first encounter, terrified at himself and the things he did to Spock. No matter how often Spock reminds him that it has been consensual and that he wanted it this way, Pike doesn’t really forgive himself such a total loss of control.
Their connection grows deeper still. Pike is a gentle and considerate lover and Spock readily becomes pliant wax in his arms. Pike likes to take him slowly, tenderly, spending eons in foreplay and preparation. Spock basks in his loving attention, which still comes as a surprise to him.
They are extremely discreet. Very few people are in on their relationship, even though they are breaking no regulations. On board the Nelson, only Pike’s first officer Number One and his CMO Philip Boyce know the truth. Pike considers them close friends and trusts them implicitly. They have been serving under him for a long time and they have had the time to get to know Spock and respect him before Pike tells them. Spock is relieved to receive their quiet approval.
A year slips by and then another one. Spock is conducting a lot of research, fascinated by the new discoveries. Pike continues to coach him unobtrusively in command, and they still have their endless debates, which amuse the bridge crew to no end.
Early hours of morning find them in the captain’s cabin. Spock is sprawled face down on the bed, his arms hugging the pillow. Pike is on top of him, fucking him methodically in long, even strokes. He changes his angle, and Spock moans. Pike’s hand on Spock’s cock moves in time with his thrusts, and Spock can feel they are both nearing completion.
Suddenly, Pike stops, buried deep within him, and releases his hold on Spock, allowing him to sink into the mattress. Spock bucks his hips instinctively, seeking friction, but Pike presses him down.
“Shh. Be still.”
Spock freezes. Slowly, Pike lowers himself to cover Spock’s body, spreading his weight on him carefully.
“All right?”
“You are torturing me,” Spock complains, voice muffled by the pillow.
Pike chuckles. “Serves you right for all you do to me.”
Spock can feel Pike’s cock throb within him. It’s a striking contrast with Pike’s otherwise immobile form, and it’s exciting beyond belief. In fact, it’s absolutely maddening.
“I can’t resist you,” Pike whispers, his fingers sifting through Spock’s tousled hair. “You know that? As if it’s not enough that you’re so smart; oh, no. You had to be beautiful, too. You had to be so insufferably attractive so people would lose their heads as well as their hearts.”
“Mutilation is not my preference.”
Pike’s teeth sink into his shoulder in revenge. Spock gasps. “A sense of humor is overkill, don’t you think?”
“I do not believe insulting me is your prerogative as my commanding officer.”
Pike trails kisses and nibbles down Spock’s spine. “You’re perfect. You’d shame Greek gods to shreds. They’d kill you out of envy with a lightning bolt. Or turn you into a tree.”
“Christopher, you are beginning to sound ridiculous. I am not beautiful.”
“Are too.”
“Your emotions hinder your objectivity.”
“And your damn modesty hinders yours.”
“I am not modest. Merely realistic. Whereas you-”
“I love you. I want you to learn to love yourself, too.”
Spock knows they are at an impasse here and he doesn’t want to upset Pike, but he can’t lie to him, either. He settles for a third option instead and squeezes his ass around Pike without warning.
“You bastard,” Pike growls, jerking up, forced into resuming his thrusts. “That’s cheating, Spock, and you’re so paying for this later.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Later, as they lie side by side, spent and sated, Spock feels a strange disquiet in Pike. Always sensitive to the others’ moods, Spock feels unsurprisingly close to this human. He props himself up on his elbow and runs a finger gently across Pike’s chest. Pike’s wandering gaze settles on Spock and he smiles.
“What is it, Christopher?”
Pike’s smile fades. He catches Spock’s hand and squeezes lightly.
“You’re due for promotion,” he says, watching Spock’s face fixedly.
Spock freezes, startled. “Surely it is too early for that.”
“It’s not. You’re an exceptional officer.”
“Your judgment is impaired.”
“No, it isn’t. I confess I was tempted to hold you back a little to keep you with me, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. Honestly, Spock. When was the last time you looked at your service record? It’s all but exploding with citations for valor - and before you say it, I had nothing to do with that. The Scientific Legion of Honor - and from the VSA no less? Nah, you’re a little overdue if you ask me.”
Spock sits up, looking down at Pike with a frown. “If I am promoted, will I have to leave the ship?”
Pike purses his lips. “You see the problem. With Starfleet’s current policy of spreading the wealth, you won’t be able to serve with me for another rotation or two, that’s for certain.”
“But that can take four to six years, probably more,” Spock says in alarm. “This is unacceptable.”
Pike watches him carefully. “Maybe not.”
Spock stares at him in shock. “Christopher? Are you... tired of me?”
“That’s an incredibly stupid question coming from someone so smart,” Pike snaps. Then, catching a glimpse of Spock’s face, he sits up and pulls the Vulcan close. “Hey, don’t look at me like that.” He kisses Spock deeply, stealing his breath. “I love you, you know that. But that makes me responsible for you and I have to think about what’s better for you, not only for myself.”
“How is it better for me if I have to be without you?”
Pike smiles and kisses him again, unable to stop himself. “Because your life should be about you, Spock. There’s a whole galaxy lying at your feet, waiting for you to take it. Nothing should hold you back, most certainly not a grumpy old man like me.”
“Christopher,” Spock protests, not bothering to suppress his indignation. “You are neither old nor grumpy, you are-”
“Hush.” Pike presses a finger to Spock’s lips. “Spock, our time together is a gift I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve. But you need to move on. You need to reach out for those new horizons. I know what I’m talking about, because I did when I was like you. I had my chance, a fair chance and I’m happy with my life now. I want you to be happy, too.”
Spock breaks away from Pike’s hold and pulls back a little to look him in the eye properly.
“Christopher... Are you terminating our relationship?”
“What?” Pike flinches. “No, Spock, of course not! How can you think that? I’ll never leave you of my own free will, I promise you that. I’m just saying our relationship shouldn’t get in the way of your life, that’s all.”
Spock doesn’t answer. Pike sighs.
“Just think about what I said. Please. Now, about that payback...”
Spock finds himself pushed back into the pillows. His thoughts begin to leave him as Pike’s fingers prod at Spock’s hole, well-stretched and slick from earlier. By the time four fingers have pushed their way in, Spock isn’t sure he’ll ever be capable of coherent thought again. When Pike’s hand curls into a fist inside him, Spock’s mind goes utterly blank with a snap, and all he sees is stars.
“There is a way we can remain together after my promotion,” Spock says.
Pike looks up at him in surprise. They are in the captain’s ready room, and they have never discussed anything personal or showed any open affection outside one of their quarters. Spock is unrepentant. Technically, they are both off duty. Besides, lately Spock feels his time is running short. It’s been over two weeks since he and Pike fell asleep in each other’s arms the last time. Starfleet has been keeping them busy and there is no indication the streak will end any time soon.
“Really?” Pike quirks an eyebrow at him. “What’s that?”
Spock takes a deep breath.
“We can bond.”
Pike stares at him. “Bond? As in marry?”
“Essentially. Starfleet has a policy of not separating married or bonded couples.”
“Spock.” Pike walks around his desk and leans against it, coming face-to-face with his science officer. “I’ve been reading on Vulcan customs. Vulcan bonding is for life. Which means you won’t be able to take another partner while I’m alive.”
“I do not want another partner.”
“You don’t, now. How about in a year? In five years? In ten? Spock, you are very young.”
“I fail to see how my age is relevant since I am past the age of consent.”
“No one should make a life-defining choice in their twenties, Spock.”
“Vulcans make these choices at seven.”
“Really? And how did that work out for you?”
Spock’s eyes widen at the unexpected blow. Pike is studying him calmly.
“There’s something else I read about the bonding,” Pike says quietly. “When one of the spouses dies, their bondmate’s suffering is so terrible that some don’t survive it. Not even full-blooded Vulcans are guaranteed to make it.”
“You are saying that as a half-breed, I don’t stand a chance?”
“No,” Pike’s voice is sharp. “I’m saying that I’m not willing to take that risk. Even if you weren’t Vulcan, I’m much older than you, Spock. I will die much sooner than you. I won’t put you through hell for the sake of my own selfish feelings, no matter how much I want to keep you with me, always. The price is way too high.”
Spock’s protests die on his lips, as Pike levels him with a stern gaze.
“You asked me if we could bond. The answer is no.”
Spock stands there, and his face doesn’t change its expression in the slightest. It’s not as though his whole world has just crumbled to pieces. It’s nothing like that at all.
It goes steadily downhill from there. Spock does think about Pike’s words, trying to understand his reasoning. Spock sees no logic in Pike’s argument, hard as he tries time and again. It simply makes no sense.
They don’t discuss it anymore, and if Spock notices Pike’s worried glances on him sometimes, he doesn’t show it. He analyses the situation repeatedly, and finally, with painful clarity, he sees the truth.
Pike is not in love with him anymore.
It is the only logical conclusion. It is obvious that Pike still cares about him deeply, but the love is gone. If it weren’t, if he was as deep in it as Spock is, Pike would never have allowed trivial matters to interfere in such a prominent way as to make him reject Spock.
Irony becomes Spock’s shelter. Humans always call Vulcans cold-hearted and emotionless, while their own emotions are so remarkably short-lived. Ironic indeed.
Many years ago, Sarek told him that emotions of the Vulcan race ran deep. His father warned him of the danger of having them out of control. Now, only now, Spock finally understands how right, how infinitely wise his father had been.
Spock resolves to devote himself to logic and nothing else. He accepts the promotion to lieutenant commander, but surprises the admiralty with his request for his next posting. Spock asks to be appointed a professor at the Academy, knowing that it’s not something Pike would want for him. Spock has had enough of other people making decisions for him.
The Academy board is delighted to have him. Admiral Barnett goes ecstatic over subspace; it is actually quite embarrassing. Spock is to report to him the moment his ship returns to Earth orbit.
Pike doesn’t comment on his decision. They stop seeing each other outside duty hours, without discussing it, and really, what is there to discuss? They don’t talk to each other outside duty also, and people notice, of course, but they are a well-trained crew and no one says anything.
Spock’s last two months on board pass invariably in the same way each day. He works a shift on the bridge. He works a shift in the lab. He works out for an hour. Meditates for two hours. Sleeps for five. He doesn’t deviate from this routine once. He finds that this new utterly logical way of life is not perhaps as satisfying emotionally as his previous lifestyle has been, but is much more befitting a Vulcan. He is determined to carry on until it’s no longer an effort.
They enter Earth orbit at oh-nine-hundred ship-time. Spock has his transfer paperwork submitted and approved. His sparse belongings are packed, his room vacated, his replacement briefed. He is ready to leave.
He is already standing on the transporter pad when the doors to the transporter room open and Pike walks in. The transporter operator snaps to attention, and Pike nods at him, offering a professional captain’s smile.
“Could you step outside, Ensign?”
“Of course, sir.”
The young man walks through the doors without batting an eyelash - or looking at either officer. Pike turns toward Spock.
“Is there something you wanted, sir?” Spock asks coolly.
“There is,” Pike nods, seemingly unaffected by his tone. “Step down, please.” Spock quirks an eyebrow. Pike sighs. “Please, Spock. Don’t make me make it an order.”
Spock climbs down from the platform and walks toward Pike. “Sir.”
Pike looks at him. He says nothing, merely stares into Spock’s eyes. In speechless wonder, like it’s the first time. In quiet grief, like it’s the last.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” Pike says, and his voice shakes and crumbles. “And I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
This isn’t fair, Spock thinks. It’s not fair that the control he spent months building is breaking to pieces just like that. It’s not fair that he feels so much when he should be feeling nothing. It’s not fair that it has to end like this. Not fair at all.
He doesn’t know who moves first, and the motion is probably nothing more than a deep breath or the slightest bow of a head, but the next moment their arms fly around each other and they are pressed together in a desperate, world-shattering kiss.
Spock is smashed into the wall blindly. Pike’s lips are crushing his; Pike’s tongue is plunging into Spock’s mouth, claiming it for the very last time as his own. Spock moans beneath him, hands twisted inelegantly in Pike’s shirt, craving more contact, more touch, more everything. If he could think, he would say something. Ask the right question, find the right thing to say to make Pike change his mind and stay with Spock forever. But his mind is empty and desperate and he can’t think.
They kiss like the universe ends in a moment, and maybe it does. Spock certainly feels it waver and reel as Pike finally tears away. They pant into each other for a small agonizing eternity before pulling apart. It strikes Spock then in full for the very first time.
It’s over.
Pike tugs at his shirt and Spock smoothes his hair. Silently, slowly, he walks around Pike and resumes his place on the platform. Pike is already standing at the controls as Spock looks up. The captain finds it in him to smile, and Spock feels a surge of admiration surfacing for a moment through the vastness of grave despair.
“Live long and prosper, Christopher.”
“Good luck, Spock.”
End of Part I
Part II 2.1