God, how long has it been since I posted on here? I'm so sorry for the delays, guys. College has been a really busy time! I'll try to post a little more often, but no promises...

Anyway, I saw Star Trek : Into Darkness the other day and I really liked it. So I wrote a fic, but some parts may not be fully accurate because a) it's been a while since the movie and b) I'm not a huge Trekkie so some details might be off. I tried my best :)

But enough talking on my part - onwards to the story! SPOILERS AHEAD. Do not read if you haven't watched or if you don't want spoilers for STID.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. If I did I'd be out exploring space.

the captain is always tied to the ship.

There's just grief, unspeakable grief. Nothing like it has ever been experienced before and not a single person on crew thinks they will ever mourn this much again. It sinks in their bones, pulls them down like the gravity that could have killed all of them earlier. In a way, it already has. It has robbed them of the singular person that they felt most loyal to.

News spreads like wildfire throughout the ship, and at first people dismiss it as rumours. Captain Kirk? No one can kill him, an ensign scoffs. He's damn near invincible.

But one look at Nyota Uhura's face, twisted and teary, and everyone knows that it's true. Jim Kirk is no more. And in a sense, they feel for their own pulses, their own steady, thrumming heartbeat, reminding themselves that they are still alive, that he saved them all; but there are some who sit numbly and think, Not really, not really, how alive can you be if you're dead inside?

Spock gets back on the bridge, his face set and steely and determined and cold. Some wonder when they look at him if this is the Vulcan or the human side of Spock; all decide that either way, Khan is doomed. They all throw themselves into their respective jobs, anger burning in their veins and vengeance stirring in their fingertips. They will capture Khan, Sulu vows as he pilots the ship. And Chekov, young as he is, envisions ripping Khan apart. Uhura's face barely flickers when Spock privately informs her of his intention to pursue Khan in San Francisco. And Spock – Spock is the coldest of them all. His anger boils like a tsunami ready to break the shore and obliterate anyone who stands in his way; the blank façade reminds everyone of the calm before the storm.

Good. Khan knew of Kirk's fire. It's time for him to be subsumed by the ice of Spock's rage.

…

Bones doesn't want to see anyone when he unzips the body bag Scotty brings in. If he had his way, he wouldn't want anyone at all to be in this room with him; it takes a great effort to remind himself that Jim Kirk wasn't just his friend, he was everyone's captain. They have a right to be here.

So he unzips the bag, and feels his heart clenches. It's not a medical term he'd use, but that's the only way he can describe it – like someone has reached into his chest, taken hold of his heart, and twisted it cruelly. Not hard enough to break it, not hard enough to remove it, but hard enough that he feels the pain, wants to beg someone, anyone, to take it away.

It wouldn't even be so bad, Bones thinks, if Jim had died with his eyes open. Then he could have closed them for his best friend, done something for him in the aftermath of his death. But someone has robbed him of that privilege, and now he can only stare dumbly, unable to believe this, unable to accept that he has failed in keeping Jim safe.

If Spock were here and I were there…what would he do? he remembers Jim asking, back when they were standing side by side.

He'd let you die, Bones had gravely remarked.

He asks himself almost the same question as he's staggering back to his desk, tired and utterly consumed by grief. If Spock were here … what would he do?

Save Jim.

Bones wants to beat his fists on the desk. An impossible task-

In his mind, he can see Jim standing by his side, face sympathetic: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," he whispers. Bones almost yells at him: I don't believe it, damn it, I'm a doctor, not a philosopher, what about me, I needed you too.

Just then, Bones hears a rustle. He glances over to see the tribble moving.

The tribble… is moving.

Something that feels a lot like a spark of hope leaps up in his chest.

…

Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu wakes up to a pounding on his door in the early morning, only hours after they arrive home.

"What the hell?" he mumbles, rolling over to look at his bedside clock. Three thirty in the morning. He registers the ache in his bones, the pounding in his head, and the soreness in his muscles, and suddenly remembers the previous day's occurrences. Briefly, he wonders what he's going to do now that Kirk is dead, and then he contemplates whether he actually wants to continue doing what he does.

Somehow it doesn't seem the same without the grinning, snarky captain at the helm.

The pounding continues, and this time Sulu pulls himself upright in bed. "What?" he yells wearily.

"It's me!" A distinctly Russian voice pounds through the door.

Groaning, the lieutenant swings his legs off his bed and somehow manages to drag himself to the door. "What the hell, Chekov? I'm trying to sleep-"

The irrepressible teenager is bouncing up and down outside his door. "Sulu – have you heard the news?"

The pilot only stares blankly at the navigator. "What news?"

Chekov waves his communicator at Sulu. "Have you not been checking your messages?"

"I kind of threw my comm aside when I got home…" Sulu rubs his eyes. "Chekov, it's three thirty in the morning. Can whatever it is wait-"

"The keptin might be alive, Sulu! The keptin-" Chekov loses control of his excitement and speech just then, bouncing up and down and babbling as Sulu grabs the communicator from him, suddenly alert and awake.

"What the hell," Sulu says for the third time that night. "How? How?"

He is awake enough to suddenly realize his mistake as Chekov immediately launches into what sounds like a complicated explanation involving genetics and particles and God, it is too early in the morning to be listening to scientific explanations. "Who sent you this?" he demands, cutting Chekov off at a particularly excitable moment for the boy.

"Commander Spock, he wanted to keep everyone updated-"

Part of Sulu is smiling, wanting to believe Chekov and Spock, wanting to believe that all is well, all is fine, Kirk is alive, they can all move on with their lives now. But another part of him is holding back – the fear traps him still when he remembers how many miracles they've been accorded this mission. What are the odds of one more miracle like this?

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes, Hikaru!" Chekov is still bouncing up and down.

Sulu hands him his communicator back, rubbing his jaw. "What the hell," he says again. "What the hell." He spins on his heel, grabbing his jacket from the chair by the door. "Do you know where they're keeping him?"

"It's three thirty in the morning, are you sure we should-"

"What, now you decide that isn't an acceptable time?" Sulu hurries on down the hall, pulling on his jacket. "Call Lieutenant Uhura, and tell her we're on our way."

Chekov complies, tripping over his own feet just to keep up with Sulu as they round the corner. "Can you believe it?" he asks breathlessly as they slam through the doors into the balmy night air.

For the first time all day, Sulu lets himself smile. "Maybe," he says. "If anyone can pull off a damned miracle like that, it's Captain Jim Kirk."

…

It seems like days before Spock hears the door to Kirk's room open. Illogical, his brain said firmly, it has only been eighteen hours, forty three minutes and twenty seven seconds since the transfusion and nineteen hours, twenty four minutes and two seconds since Kirk's fingers slid from the door.

Beside him, Uhura jumps up nervously, brushing imaginary lint off her red uniform. Spock takes his time unfolding his body from the cushioned seat, still, as always, the calm, calculating, rational one. "Dr. McCoy," he says in an even tone. "What is the prognosis?"

The doctor looks exhausted, but relieved. "He's breathing," he says in an undertone. "He's not conscious yet, and he's not out of the woods, but he's alive."

Spock gives him a curt nod. If Bones didn't know any better he would say that Spock didn't care, but Uhura told him about Spock's breakdown in the engineering room and how they almost lost Khan because Spock was so intent on destroying him. No, if anyone understands Spock right now, it is probably Bones. He knows what it's like to have to shove all that grief under a veneer of professionalism. He, too, knows what it is like to lose Kirk not as a captain, but a friend.

"Can we see him?" Uhura asks.

"No point. He's not awake and might not be for a while." Bones glances up just as Chekov and Sulu burst through the door, questions firing a mile a minute.

"Is he okay-"

"The keptin, has he suffered any damage-"

"Is he okay-"

"I have a theory about the blood, doctor-"

"Kids," Bones says as the two of them continue to babble. "Hey," he says a little louder, and both of them fall silent. "Okay, who told you?"

Everyone turns to look at the impassive Spock. "I merely thought everyone would like to know an update on how the captain was doing," is his explanation.

"Damn it, man, what would have happened if I was wrong?"

"Impossible. The odds of that happening were-"

"He didn't tell everyone," Uhura interrupts smoothly, seguing into her diplomatic role. "Only us, Bones. He thought-" She swallows. "He thought that Kirk's closest friends deserved to know first."

Bones looks as though he's about to say something more, but in light of recent events, he decides to bite his tongue. "Fine," he says brusquely, turning back to the door. "Well, he's not awake, so I suggest you go home and get some rest. It's been a long day for all of us."

"With all due respect," Spock begins, and Bones stops, muttering something about should have known that was coming. "I would like to wait inside until the captain is awake."

Bones seriously contemplates arguing with Spock, but he eventually relents and steps backwards. "Fine. You can come in." He points at Chekov, who assumes that the directive is for all of them and starts towards the room. "Not all of you." The door shuts behind him.

Chekov turns, dismayed, only to find Sulu and Uhura smiling with wan amusement. Maybe it's just relief that everything is back to normal. "Come on," Uhura says, taking Chekov's arm in hers. "There's a diner down the road that's open all night. Let's go have something to eat."

…

Bones won't let Kirk out of his hospital room for a month and a half. Sulu and Scotty both bet on how long it will take for Kirk to begin sneaking out of the room before getting caught by the doctor. Sulu wins – his bet is that Kirk won't last in the bed for a week. He's closest; Kirk gets caught sneaking out the third night. Bones doesn't even yell at him, which terrifies Kirk somewhat, but he does prescribe two more weeks of staying put in the bed.

Everyone knows that that's punishment enough for their captain.

"How's everyone getting on?" Kirk asks Spock one day as they're in the room, Spock reading some reports from the Enterprise and Kirk bouncing a ball idly across the room.

"They are well, Captain. Scotty is overseeing the latest repairs on the ship."

"How is she, anyway? Heard she took a pretty nasty scrape."

The room stills for a second as Kirk carefully watches Spock. This is a conversation that they still haven't had – how does one tackle the conversation with a not-dead-but-should-be friend? Nobody has talked about this with Kirk – nobody has told him what happened in the immediate hours following his death.

Nobody seems to want to, so he knows his best bet would be the Vulcan.

Spock, to his credit, looks up from his reports and faces Kirk dead in the eye. "She did. But it would have been a lot worse if you hadn't realigned the heads."

"Yeah, everyone keeps telling me that." Kirk flashes a flippant smirk. "Guess I am the hero, after all."

"What you did was severely illogical," Spock says.

"Give me a break, Spock, you would have done the exact same thing."

Spock pauses for a moment to think about it. "Possibly," he concedes. "The odds are likely that we would have found another way-"

Kirk barks a laugh. "Even I know that's bullshit."

Spock arches his eyebrow at Kirk's use of profanity. "You were lucky," he says, "that Dr. McCoy was able to find something to help you."

Kirk smiles wanly at that one. "Yeah. Lucky. One shot in a million. Damn straight I was lucky."

They sit in silence for a moment, the reports from the Enterprise still in Spock's lap. "Did you think about the repercussions?" Spock asks at last.

"What, of me going into the chamber?" Kirk scoffed. "Of course I did."

"And you did it anyway."

"Well." Kirk thinks about it for a moment. "Yes. I mean, what was the alternative? Going down with the ship?"

Spock raises an eyebrow.

"I couldn't do that," Kirk says quietly. "There were good men and women on that ship, Spock. Even if there was just the slightest chance – even if it was a one percent chance that what I did was going to save all of them – save you – I would take it."

"It was highly impractical."

"And that's why I didn't exactly consult you." Kirk coughs for a moment, waving Spock off as he rises to help. "Look, Spock. The fact of the matter is, the captain is always tied to the ship and her crew. I owed it to all of you to do everything I could to keep you safe…"

The automated sedative kicks in, and Spock sees the stillness flutter across Jim's face as it relaxes into sleep. "-couldn't let you die," Kirk mumbles, his eyes falling shut. "…not again."

Spock quirks a small, crooked smile as he walks over to his sleeping captain. Behind him, Bones comes up and settles on the other side of Kirk's bed. "Good talk?" he asks.

"I would presume that it was a productive conversation, yes." Spock clears his throat. "We discussed his death and his motivations behind it."

"He tell you why he lost his mind that day?"

"On the contrary, Doctor, I think he was perfectly logical." Spock folds his hands behind his back. "He did what I would have done. Logic dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." Spock looks at the sleeping Jim Kirk. "Or the one," he adds.

Bones doesn't say anything snarky to that comment, but instead watches his friend's chest rise and fall with even breaths. "You would have done the same thing for him," he says. It's not a question.

"Of course. He is my superior officer. He is also my friend. I have been and always shall be his."

Bones actually smiles at that remark. "Look at that, Spock. Something we both agree on for once."

"I would presume to debate you on that point, Doctor," Spock responds. "We have agreed on multiple occasions. Such as the time we both advised the Captain not to personally take on that scouting mission-"

"Damn it, man, we were having a moment," Bones groans as he walks out of the room, Spock following him the whole way.

From his bed, the corners of Kirk's mouth turn up in a smile.

SPOT THE ACTUAL LINES FROM Star Trek: Wrath of Khan.

Let me know what you think, reviews are always welcome!

Love,
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