Title: If You Must Cheat, Cheat Death
Description: He was there during Spock's last moments, clutching his First Officer's hand and failing to fight back tears. He can't be dead. He just can't. Kirk/Spock slash, rated for language, violence and death.
Pairing(s): Kirk/Spock
Word Count: -
Notes: This was originally just meant to be a short one-shot about mourning, but after deciding that never will I ever be able to write actual deathfics where the characters have to stay dead it turned into something more. It's a new-universe so loosely based on the third movie, The Search for Spock, that they shouldn't be used in the same sentence and should in no way be considered a rewrite. The whole Genesis planet and transferring of katra are about the only similarities between the two, because I needed them for writing's sake if I was to bring Spock back.

So here's the finished product, full of sad and grieving and a totally whacked timeline. This is my first shot in a while at a long fic, so bear with me.

Sorry, guys, nothing from this fantastic series belongs to me.

One

Somewhere in the back of Kirk's mind, he knew that they had done it. They'd won. They'd finally created this new planet, Genesis, fought off Khan, and won.

Though at that moment, he was too busy clawing against the muddy ground, blood soaking his uniform and pain rippling through his torso. Rain beat mercilessly against his body, soaking him to the bone and lightening the hue of his blood.

He needed to find Spock.

They had both been on the machine when they'd finally destroyed it, working together to tear the guts and wires out and cause it to malfunction. Except there had to be the goddamned self-destruct feature on it. Of course.

Kirk cried out, clutching his stomach against the pain. Bones would be there soon; he knew it. Bones could come find them; Bones would fix them up, just as always…

Except he didn't know where Spock was. He'd been thrown farther back from the explosion, away from Kirk and away from the machine.

A cough ripped Kirk's attention back to the present, and he looked up to see a familiar shape lying against the ground. Pushing down the fiery agony that was now spreading, he dug his fingers deep into the mud and struggled to pull himself towards his First Officer.

It seemed like ages before he finally reached him, gritting his teeth in pain and breathing heavily. He fell to the ground beside the half-Vulcan, panting, and barked out a humourless laugh.

"We did it," Kirk breathed, turning to face him. "We finally did—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide and his heart jumping into his throat in fear. A sharp piece of shrapnel had dug itself into Spock's side, green blood mixing in with the mud around them. Kirk let out a choking gasp, pushing himself up onto one arm despite the flare of pain to rest his other hand on the wound. He couldn't risk moving the piece of metal, but he could help stop the bleeding. Kirk pulled back his hand, his breathing quickening when it was brought back green with Vulcan blood.

"Spock!" he cried out, hauling himself over so he could place his hands against his First Officer's face. "Spock!"

There was no response, just slight, shallow breathing.

"Spock!"

Water dripped from his face and hair as Kirk hovered over him, desperation laced thickly in his tone. He gripped Spock's shoulders, shaking him lightly. The half-Vulcan's eyes flew open then, meeting Kirk with something like shock before his hands went up to clutch his captain's shirt.

"Jim," he gasped, face grimacing in pain when he tried to move.

"No Spock, stop," Kirk warned him, pushing him back down with a scowl of his own. "Don't move. No. You need to wait for Bones." Wait for Bones. When Bones came. If he came. For all he knew, the Enterprise was unaware of what had happened on the surface, and was awaiting Kirk's call to beam them up. He would have, too, if his communicator hadn't been destroyed in the blast.

Spock let out a groan of pain, and then collapsed against the air with a shuddering exhale. "Jim, the chance of…of my survival is less than—"

"No," Kirk growled at him, clutching his shoulders even tighter. "No. That won't…you're not going to die."

With a look of pity in his eyes, Spock smiled at him. Actually smiled. Any other day Jim would have reveled in the show of emotion he'd only ever caught fleeting glimpses of, but now, it only succeeded in scaring the living shit out of him.

"Don't you…no, Spock, don't do that. No, this isn't happening, you're not…you're not…"

As Spock rested one hand on Kirk's cheek, he lost it. His face twisted in grimace and the heave of a sob sent agony through his midsection. Spock wasn't dying. No, he couldn't be; he was the most versatile, most enduring person on the ship…he was half-Vulcan, after all…

Another hand met his other cheek, and Kirk was jolted with what felt like an electrical current that went straight to his heart. It sent a shock through his body, feeling like an explosion contained within his skin. He knew it was some sort of mind meld, but it felt entirely different than the ones they'd shared before or even the one that had taken place on Delta Vega with Spock Prime almost two years prior.

When he snapped out of it, Spock was still smiling at him, his eyes tired. "Goodbye, Jim," he whispered, eyelids heavy and starting to droop.

"No!" Kirk cried. His voice was going hoarse, but it didn't stop him. He clutched desperately at the hands that were beginning to fall from his face, losing his balance and falling onto the half-Vulcan's chest as the last of his life escaped from him. He curled himself around the body, closing his eyes against all of the green blood that was rapidly staining his gold uniform.

He was losing blood too, however much he was not aware of it at the time, and as his head fell to the ground and his own hold started to go slack, the last thing he was aware of as he lost consciousness was one single word.

Spock.