Hope didn't come that night. After much poking and prodding, Spock—who still appeared to be doing quite well, given the situation—admitted to Bones that he had a severe headache and sharp pains in his abdomen. Bones said very little on the matter, and then retreated to the lab, leaving them alone.

"You are not going to argue with him?" Spock questioned, once the doctor had left.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I am not afraid of death. To fight the inevitable would be illogical."

Weariness flooded through Jim. He wanted to fight, knew he should. But lying here, with Spock's hand wrapped around his own, and having a taste of what he wanted so badly, it was…exhausting. He'd never felt so hopeless, so broken. "Yeah, it's starting to seem that way to me, too. If we can't win this thing, then I just want to make the most of the time we have left. However long that may be."

They spent the rest of the night lying there together, holding hands and kissing ever so often. They didn't speak about what had been, or what was yet to come. And, as much he was desperate to finally say the words he'd held back for far too long, Jim forced himself to stay silent. It was better this way, he convinced himself. Being together, even for a little while, was enough.

Jim started to drift off when Spock devolved into a coughing fit, his entire body wracking from the pressure. Nurse Chapel quickly strode over, gave him a sedative and something for the pain, and forced Jim back to his own bed. He started to argue, but gave up when she threatened to give him a sedative as well.

Maybe she should have given him one. The second he was out of Spock's grasp, Jim was completely wired, his mind racing. He focused all of his attention on the Vulcan, unable to focus on anything else.

"Something on your mind, Jim?" Bones asked when he came back a few hours later.

"Do you believe in soul mates, Bones?"

He snorted in response. "Sounds like a bunch of metaphysical nonsense to me."

Jim crossed his arms. "Well I do. You know how people call their significant others their better half? It's true." He glanced over at Spock. "He is better. Fuck, he is so much better. I don't understand why anyone would want to do this to him. It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"Yeah, I've heard that before." He'd never truly believed it until now, though. Tragedy had struck his life before—his father's death, for one. It'd been rough, growing up without him. But since he'd never known anything different, it was hard to grasp the full impact of the event.

Now he was all too aware of it.

"I kissed him last night," Jim admitted, picking at a stray thread on his sleeve.

Bones raised an eyebrow. "How'd that go?"

"He kissed me back."

"Something about dying brings people's true feelings to the surface." He turned to leave. "Oh, and by the way, when I said you weren't cleared for command, I didn't just mean of the ship."

Jim smiled weakly at the joke; still he was unable to keep from flinching at the reminder of Spock's condition. All this time, he'd wanted Spock to at least hint that their short-lived romance hadn't been a fluke. Too bad it took a life or death situation to get what he wanted.

God, they'd wasted so much fucking time apart. It was insane, letting Spock walk away like that. He should've tried harder, argued with him more. He should've done whatever it took to keep them together.

At any rate, it would've been better than shrinking away from Spock the second things got rough, out of fear of rejection or the idea that Spock didn't care at all, when he so clearly did.

Taking a step back had seemed reasonable at the time. Jim had already pushed Spock enough to get them to the point they were at when it ended. Losing their friendship on top of everything else was too great a risk, even for him.

If only he'd known then how things would end up. All his previous fears seemed so pointless now, too late. If changing the past were an option, he'd do it in a second. Except he still wasn't sure where he went wrong, exactly.

They'd only slept together that once, but goddamn, had that one time been good. Afterward, Jim clutched the sheets around him, his toes curling involuntarily, and gazed at Spock with pure, unfiltered adoration.

"I trust you found the experience satisfactory," Spock said. It was not a question.

"Uh, no, satisfactory doesn't even begin to cover it." Jim leaned over and kissed Spock's eyelids. "You're amazing and I damn well mean that, too." He curled up beside the Vulcan, more than ready to fall asleep wrapped in his arms, wake up, and do the whole thing over again.

Spock had other plans. He extricated himself from Jim's embrace, and slipped his clothes back on.

"What're you doing?" Confusion rolled over Jim in waves as he sat up.

"I am leaving."

"Yeah, I can see that. Any reason why?" Defensiveness crept into his tone. Sure, Jim was used to running away after sex, but it'd never happened to him before. It was probably some kind of fucked up karma.

"We are finished. I see no reason to stay."

"Well, usually, when you're with someone, you don't run off like this." Dread settled over him. "Unless this didn't mean anything to you, then, yeah, I guess that changes things."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I did inform you of my reluctance toward a more committed relationship."

The fragile hope Jim had allowed himself shattered around him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. This wasn't happening. "You didn't think this was anything serious." Of course he didn't. Because he'd told Jim flat out that he didn't think they should be together, officially, and Jim had shut up with more kissing. The conclusions practically drew themselves.

"Jim, how many people have you had relations with since we met?" It wasn't intended as an insult. Spock's tone was clinical, at best. This was really happening.

Jim started counting, but ran out of fingers far too soon. "I don't see how that's relevant." Okay, so he'd been with more than a few people over the past year. But this was different. This was real. Why couldn't Spock see that?

"Perhaps you're right. I'll leave."

Panic skittered up Jim's spine. He couldn't let Spock walk away like this, not without getting some answers first. "Spock, what happened with you and Uhura?"

Spock's eyebrows jumped up. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"Indulge me." If he could understand what went wrong with Spock's previous relationship, maybe he could begin to wrap his mind around the situation at hand. Or maybe he was stalling. He couldn't tell anymore.

Spock clasped his hands, looked Jim straight in the eyes. "After the destruction of Vulcan, I was deeply troubled. Some might even say broken. At times I thought I always would be. It was too much for anyone to deal with, let alone share. Nyota deserved better than what I could give her, and so do you."

He left after that, and didn't return.

Over the next few days, Jim considered his options. He didn't speak to Spock unless he had to, and he sure as hell didn't initiate anything more intimate than that. Things were awkward at first, to say the least, but eventually, it all went back to how it'd been before the kiss, and Jim decided it wasn't worth screwing things up even worse.

He still hated himself for that.

In the present, Jim sat beside Spock, who was now awake. "Can I ask you something?"

Spock nodded.

"Why did you end things with us? What did I do that was so wrong? I mean, we were happy, for a minute there. And then you just…checked out."

"I believe I gave my reasons."

"Yeah, but come on, they were pretty weak, and we both know it. I can't imagine how it must've been to lose your planet, but I could've helped you."

"I did not wish to burden you."

"You just don't get it, do you?" Jim pressed his forehead against Spock's, digging his fingers into the Vulcan's shoulders. "This thing with us, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. And I'll do anything to keep it going, because—" He took a deep breath. "Because I love you. So much. I can't make it stop, and I'm not going to try anymore, even if you don't feel the same way." A strange sense of tranquility settled over him. No regrets, no matter what.

"Jim." Spock's voice was low. His fingertips pressed against the base of Jim's neck with urgency. "Your feelings are not unrequited. I care very deeply for you. It is my sincere hope that one day you can realize how much."

"I think I'm starting to."

He brushed his lips over Spock's, hesitating for a split second before deepening the kiss all at once. It was delicate rather than primal, their lips and tongues moving together in slow motion. It was like a thousand fireworks going off at once, and Jim knew that this time, the end was nowhere in sight. So long as he could fix things, that was. But the pain and the worry fell away, because he'd never had more motivation than he did right now, in this moment.

"I love you," he whispered again between kisses. "You don't even know how much."

A drop of something warm and wet tickled his cheekbone. Straightening up, he touched his eyes—they were completely dry, without even the burn of potential tears. Blinking, he realized it was because he wasn't the one crying. Two small tears shone like diamonds in the darkness of Spock's eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Spock pressed his fingertips against his eyelids, drying the tears that had escaped, and then examined them in the light, clearly fascinated by the phenomenon. "I appear to be having an emotional response to your confession."

The gears in Jim's head started spinning, ultrafast, a theory tugging at his mind. "What are the odds that Dr. McCoy will find a cure in the next three days?"

Spock blinked. "It is unlikely."

"I know that, Spock, but what's the percentage?"

There was a pause of silence, and then, "I do not know."

"Extraordinary." Jim smiled so wide, he thought his face would break. "I have to go find Bones right now." He jumped up, anticipation and excitement precluding him from staying still for a moment longer.
"Jim." Spock reached out, locked his fingers around Jim's wrist, and pulled him back down. The force he exerted was minimal, and Jim could see, by the way his fingers strained, he'd intended to use more strength than he was able to. "Why are you leaving? You said if this scenario was unwinnable, you were prepared to do nothing except enjoy our time together."

"Yeah, I did," Jim agreed. "But you're forgetting something."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I don't believe in no-win scenarios."

"Indeed."

Spock's lips curved into the tiniest of smiles, a sight so welcome that Jim couldn't help himself. He crushed his lips to Spock's again, channeling the excitement that was rushing through him into the kiss. He slid his hands around the back of Spock's neck, lost himself in the moment.

"Damn it, Jim, I told you to rest. Both of you."

Jim jumped away from Spock, nearly falling on his ass in the process, his goal once again in sight. "Bones! I need to talk to you. Right now." He spun around, facing the glaring doctor. "You can yell at me later. Come on." He led Bones to the other end of the room, putting Spock out of earshot. Well, his Vulcan ears had showed no signs of disrepair, at this point, but they had the illusion of privacy, at least.

"What is it?"

"Bones, I think I know what's wrong with him."

"Practicing medicine without a license, are we?"

"Listen to me." Jim grabbed the doctor's shoulders. "If it's a virus, shouldn't one of us have gotten it by now?"

"Not all viruses are contagious. And no one else was injected." Bones narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"I told Spock I love him, and he started crying." Jim couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. Overall, it was a terrible situation. But he'd gotten himself out of even tighter corners before. This wasn't a no-win scenario. Not to him. "There were other things, too—questions he should've known the answers to, but didn't."

"What are you saying, Jim?"

"I think the virus is attacking his Vulcan half."

"Makes sense," Bones said. "I've been looking at his blood work, and it's not progressing at the rate I expected it to. Could be his human half is strong enough to slow it down a bit."

"Which might give us enough time to figure out a cure." Jim took a deep breath, anticipation rolling up his spine. "Bones, you have to put me back in command."

"I don't have to do anything."

"Look at the bigger picture. Whoever did this to Spock might be planning to do it to other Vulcans. If there's a chance we can stop it, we have to take it. Let me beam down to New Vulcan, and warn the others. Please. I promise not to do anything crazy or stupid."

"You might not be able to save him, Jim." There was a sense of tenderness in the doctor's voice that didn't often appear. "The sooner you accept that, the better."

"I have to at least try." Jim ran his hands through his hair, desperation seeping through his blood. "If someone you loved was dying, wouldn't you want to do everything in your power to help them?" It was a long shot, and he knew it.

Compassion settled over the doctor's face, although slight irritation continued to flicker in his eyes. "All right, but I'm going down there with you. And if you so much as sneeze, I'm putting you right back in here. Got it?"

"Uh-huh. You're awesome." Jim grinned and ran off before Bones could change his mind, which he most likely would later on, when he'd had time to think about what had happened. It didn't matter, though. Jim had gotten what he'd needed, and he was damn well going to make the most of it.

Jim stepped onto the Bridge, for what felt like the first time in years. The crew welcomed him back with a cheer, including Scotty, who immediately rose out of the captain's chair. "She's all yours, sir. We are on course for New Vulcan, as requested."

"Thank you, Scotty." Jim patted him on the shoulder, relief coursing through him. "Sulu, prepare for warp."

"Ready for warp, sir," Sulu answered with a grin.

Jim sat down, the power of being back in his rightful place coursing through his veins, along with a certainty that, a few hours ago, he'd feared he'd never feel again. Spock had never taken the Kobayashi Maru test before, and if Jim had anything to say about it, he never would, either. So it was with complete confidence and assurance that he nodded to Sulu, and said, "Take us out of here."