A/N: I do not own Star Trek. Please Enjoy!

They had been arguing. What about specifically Jim couldn't remember. Probably something stupid. Probably something he'd done. Lord knew he was always screwing something up.

Anyway, the topic of the argument didn't really matter. The only thing that mattered right then and there was the fact that he felt as if he'd just been punched through the stomach.

"Perhaps it would be better if we ceased to see one another."

That's what he'd said. And really, it was Jim's fault. Good things did not last, that was the first lesson the world had taught him. But he'd let himself forget, allowed himself to be lost in the amazing, blissful, burning passion that was his relationship. Had been his relationship, if his partner's words were to be believed.

"But I- I thought you loved me." It was a pathetic thing to say, but his brain was still reeling from the last blow he'd received and it appeared that was the only thing he was able to stutter out.

"I fail to see how it would be possible for anyone to love you."

And there it was. His worst fears, splayed out in the open air for all to see.

"For god's sake Jim, you're a basket case."

"Honestly it's a miracle that any of us have lasted this long."

The two new additions to the argument caused Jim to whirl on his heel and see the bridge crew staring at him coldly.

Jim didn't remember beginning the argument in such a public place but he did tend to allow his emotions to get the better of him. At any rate, the words and glares his crew, his friends, were shooting his way were painful enough to cause him to forget such minute errors.

His lungs were becoming increasingly difficult to operate, it felt as if he were gasping but was unable to garner sufficient air for him to breathe. "I thought- I thought we-"

"Were what, friends?" A deep laugh followed the disbelieving statement.

"Zat is not possible."

Jim's chest stuttered painfully, "Not possible?"

"What the lad means is, a guy like you cannae have friends."

Jim was trying desperately to understand what they meant, where they were coming from but he couldn't. "A guy like me?"

"Uh, for god's sake man, do we have to spell it out for you? You're no good!"

"Dirty."

"Tainted."

"Damaged."

Jim desperately blinked back tears, but he was already trapped. Trapped by the piercing glares of his crew, their biting remarks and the reproachful knowledge that everything they said was true.

"Jim." A voice called, but he just clamped his hands over his ears and scrunched his eyes up tight. He shook his head in denial, tears streaking down his face and breaths coming in desperate gasps.

It wasn't fair. Deep down he knew everything they were saying was true but the fact that they were the ones saying it-

It was his own damn fault. He'd known this whole thing was too good to be true and he'd still allowed himself to believe it would last. He'd been a fool, and he had no one to blame but himself for the utter despair he now felt.

"Jim."

Jim sat bolt upright with a gasp, barely registering anything other than the fact that there was a hand touching his shoulder. Jim reacted instinctively, grasping the offending wrist and twisting it in a way that would have been painful had it not been attached to a Vulcan.

"Jim." Spock once again called, his voice becoming more soothing. He raised the hand that wasn't pinned and allowed his facial features to project a calmness, much like comforting a cornered animal.

Jim blinked and was thrust into reality with a jolt. He glanced down and finally became aware of where he was and who he was with.

Although the vice-grip Jim had around Spock's slender wrist caused the Vulcan no pain, he still released the limb as if he'd been burned, long arms flailing as he ungracefully attempted to backpedal from his bed partner, resulting in his subsequent flop to the floor, legs still tangled in their shared covers.

"Spock." Jim stated intelligently, as the half-Vulcan stared down at him in bemusement. But under the confusion, was that a hint of guilt Jim detected?

"You were experiencing a nightmare. I believed the best course of action to be waking you but I can see now that I was in error."

"No Spock, this isn't your fault. I just don't do well when I'm startled."

Spock waited patiently for Jim to untangle himself and clamber back into bed before posing his question, "Do you wish to discuss the events that transpired in your dream?"

The tone in which Spock asked gave Jim pause, but he soon understood, releasing a low groan as he came to his conclusion. "You saw it, didn't you?"

"Our bond allows us to share many things, emotions and dreams being only two of them."

"Look Spock, I know what you saw was illogical-"

"The bond between us is sacred to my people and very powerful. You are my T'hy'la Jim, I couldn't betray you. As I am certain you are aware of this fact, I find it quite-" Spock paused a moment to search for the correct word. "troubling that you would still doubt my loyalties to you."

'Couldn't' Spock had said couldn't, not wouldn't. Their love was more than a simple promise, Spock was physically incapable of breaking their bond. And yes Jim was aware of that fact, and the sadness he felt from Spock over his apparent lack of trust was abhorring. That he had caused that feeling made him sick.

"Spock I don't- I can't explain it. I've always had problems with trust. And when good things are in my life I-" Jim chocked, desperately trying not to cry. "I just- I run okay? Because for me, good things never last. Please believe me when I say I know what this bond means for you and for me. But I'm terrified." Jim gasped in a shuddering breath, the tears finally beginning to fall. "I'm scared that if I let myself get too comfortable with all this, I'm gonna blink and it'll all be gone. You, the Enterprise, everything. It'll just disappear."

Spock was frozen by the anguish he felt radiating off of Jim as well as inside himself. Jim was his T'hy'la, and when Jim was hurting, Spock was hurting as well. After a moment Spock reached forward and gently slid his slender fingers into Jim's hand, enveloping them in a tender Vulcan kiss.

Jim gasped and, for a moment, completely stopped breathing. The trust, and faith, and devotion, and love Jim felt transfer between their fingers floored him.

"T'hy'la, listen carefully."

Spock's voice in his ear sent shivers down his spine and it was all Jim could do to nod.

"I love you, there is nothing in this world that could ever change that. Your crew feel nothing but utter devotion for you. You are a good captain and an even better friend, and every one of them would follow you to the ends of the universe. I am aware of your past, of the horrors and struggles you have faced, but those are behind you. This is your life now, and I will not allow it to change."

The sheer conviction Jim could hear and feel in that one statement opened the flood gate. He gasped and sobbed and clutched Spock tightly until he fell blessedly asleep. And Spock just allowed it, Jim's fingernails leaving claw marks on his chest, his trembling frame jabbing him uncomfortably, the tears mixed with snot soaking his skin. Because it was what Jim needed. And when the tears finally ceased to fall, and the gasping breath evened out to indicate a sleeping rhythm, Spock remained.

The weight of Jim's body curled up against his side was a comfort, as he was sure his own heart beat was a comfort to Jim.

And if Spock was being honest with himself- which he always was because Vulcans did not lie- he didn't even mind. Because Jim was his T'hy'la, and the all-encompassing love he felt for Jim's sheer existence could not be accurately described by words alone.

Sure, they were messy. Jim was a crazy, reckless human with a bad past. He was a half-Vulcan who found himself drawn to the enigma that was his human. They were bound to be messy.

But that was them. Spock wouldn't have it any other way and he was certain Jim wouldn't either. And if being bonded with Jim meant that he'd have to reassure doubts and fight off terrors, then that's what he would do.

Every time.