Star Trek XI | Four Ways Spock Prime Did Not Want It To Go (and How It Went) | Spock Prime, Kirk/Spock
"It was not my intention," Spock tells him, very old and very weary now, "to usurp for myself what should belong to my present."

[1]

"It was not my intention," Spock tells him, very old and very weary now, "to usurp for myself what should belong to my present."

Jim takes his hand and squeezes.

"S'not your fault, old man," he says with a crooked smile.

The so-believed legendary friendship never came to pass. Too many variables had been altered, too many encounters occurred out of sequence, or never at all. Spock found salvation in the arms of another. Jim found his in the time-traveler searching for a memory.

Things were not as they should have been, and yet Jim could not feel true regret for how events transpired in his universe. His ship was still flying. His crew was still a family. The two little mischief makers he proudly called his godchildren were loud and kicking and alive.

If a legendary friendship was to be the casualty, then so be it.

"And yet I am happy," Spock finally says, a single tear rolling down his ancient face, "that you can be here for me the way I was not there for you, old friend."

Spock passes on to the next world and James Kirk is never the same after.

[2]

James Tiberius Kirk dies in the line of duty.

Spock is halfway on the road to 'getting the hell over it' (as Jim would've said) when he catches sight of a prominent figure dressed in black. The pain on the older Vulcan's face brings to the forefront of his mind a profound grief he had not thought himself capable of feeling.

It was not suppose to end like this.

[3]

"He said it was nothing personal," Jim slurs into the ale. "He said it was his responsibility to see to the well-being of his race. Or something like that."

He laughs, too loud and too high—a weak disguise for the raging hysteria threatening to consume him.

Spock touches his hand, and wishes (selfishly, futilely) that he had not arrived in the one universe where he could hurt Jim.

[4]

Jim falls in love.

His bride is beautiful, intelligent, and accomplished.

Spock mourns with his younger self.

[…]

It starts slowly.

At first, communication between himself and the captain of the Enterprise consists mostly of the latter's complaints regarding his first officer's inflexibility with protocol (all in the very colorful language his Jim Kirk never required to express frustration).

Over time, he notes to no little satisfaction, those protests diminish before disappearing completely.

Then, they appear on New Vulcan unannounced, like a hurricane.

Jim is angry, yelling for answers no Vulcan will give freely. Spock is shaking, the fire of his ancestry slowly consuming him from within.

In Jim, he notes concern and even the spark of contained terror; but more importantly, a willingness to do whatever it took to fix everything.

In his counterpart, he sees the building, blinding desire of the Pon Farr, and just beneath the surface, a near tangible trust that his Captain would see him through.

Spock withdraws to his chambers, deep within the new citadel, and smiles.

[//]