Iowa City Airport, Iowa City: July 20, 2013 (Federation Stardate: 2013.58/Galactic Stardate-281986.49829)

To say that the other kids on the executive board were disappointed with Jim was…putting it lightly. Marathon was worth more sweepstakes points than any other athletic event, and Jim had spent the entire night in their dorm, bragging about his achievements on his school track team. He'd built himself up then let them down completely…

When he landed in Iowa again, he hadn't quite shaken the depression that hung over him. The loneliness that had crashed into him like a freight train in the desert still had him feeling flattened and now it was partnered with his own feelings of seclusion. Amanda picked him up at the terminal and helped him lug his bags into her van. Blissfully ignorant of his despair, she chatted amiably on the ride home- about Bones and how well he was doing with his summer internship.

Since he'd decided to go into medicine, Bones had really come into himself. He was in the top five in his class and already had a nursing position at the university hospital. Whenever he came home, he'd brag about some new way he'd helped save a patient's life- given emergency CPR or suggested a change in prescription just in the nick of time.

And, Jim had never- never hated his big brother, but his chest tightened up and he clenched his fists in anger as Amanda bragged that Bones was shadowing a surgeon now. He pulled in a breath and pushed it hard into the roof of his mouth, letting it out slowly. His eyes pricked again.

Amanda stopped talking and glanced at him from the drivers' seat. "Jim?"

He gave a mild grunt- unsure how much more he could do without exploding in frustration.

Unfortunately, Amanda had spent most of her life as a pediatric psychologist and she was giving Jim that look that always meant she was analyzing him. "You're upset," she concluded.

"I'm not," Jim said simply, with finality.

She smirked a little and faced the road again, "You're a teenager. You're always upset."

"Right then, nothing special," he concluded. "That all?"

Amanda rolled her eyes and granted him blessed silence for the rest of the car ride, but the talk was coming- he could tell. She pulled into the garage when they'd reached the house and parked the car. They got out and unpacked his bags from the trunk- still no words. She helped him carry his things up to his room and separate his dirty clothes into the wash pile. She left him alone until dinner. Bones came in, expecting stories from Vegas, but Jim shot him down and took a nap. Even at dinner, they ate in silence.

And it was driving Jim insane.

He skipped his nighttime run and went straight out to the garden to sit. The Johnson's weren't home, so their lights were off across the field, and there were no other houses for miles. In the dark of the back yard, flat on his back, he could see hundreds of stars. Crickets were going crazy in the grass all around him, so loud he could barely hear it when a voice interrupted his meditation, "Knew you'd be out here."

He glanced up. Bones. He gave a wry smile and scooted over in the dirt. "Mom sent you out to do her dirty work," he grumbled

"Believe it or not, I can actually tell when you're upset, Jim," Bones said, glancing down at the dirt where his brother had made space for him to lay down. He pursed his lips a little and held out a hand instead, "Come inside'n talk ta her. She said y'were huffin' and puffin' when she talked about my job, but lord knows this doesn't actually have t'do with me."

Jim sulked and folded his arms over his chest defiantly.

"She's a doctor, Jim."

"So're you."

Bones smirked a little, not even bothering to hide how much that flattered him- shameless asshole. "Yes well, unlike her, I'm right-well terrified of what goes on in your head." He bent and held his hand out closer. "C'mon."

Jim huffed again, considering his choices. Bones wouldn't leave him alone out here to brood, and he didn't feel like running anywhere. He could either go inside and 'talk' to Amanda or listen to Bones talk. He gave a wry grin and grabbed Bones' hand.

…

Grayson Residence- Riverside, Iowa : July 20, 2013 (Federation Stardate: 2013.58/ Galactic Stardate -281986.49927)

Bones pointedly turned on the television and planted himself in front of it, leaving Jim his privacy to go upstairs. Amanda was already sitting on Jim's bed when he stepped in, kicking the door shut. She patted the bed for him to sit beside her.

He plopped into his bean bag chair instead- just to maintain some control. She sighed and folded her hands serenely in her lap, sitting silently for a moment and allowing her son to glare her down. She drew in a breath, "Jim…I don't say it enough, but I am so proud of you," she said emphatically.

"Great, thanks," Jim said, giving a nod. He jolted up from the chair, "Good talk." That said, Jim high-tailed it for the door.

"Sit!" Amanda snapped.

She stared him down where he hovered at the door, arm outstretched for the knob. He did sit though- returning back to his seat slowly and not looking directly at her.

"That's what this is about, isn't it," she said simply- not a question. "Ms. Fisk already told me about the marathon, and you should already know- nobody's going to hate you for losing a race. You don't have to be the best at everything."

She spoke with so much finality that Jim had to grit his teeth a little- then bark a laugh at her conclusion. "Have you seen the world today?" he said, raising a brow, "You don't make it unless you're the best. College, jobs, hell…girlfriends! Everyone's looking for the best of the best. No one wants mediocre." And Jim knew he was a far cry from mediocre. He excelled- in a lot of subjects. His test scores were near-perfect. But, none of his talents fit together into a decisive career path, especially not into the field he wanted to pursue…hell, the career he wanted didn't even exist. If he felt lonely and useless, could anyone really blame him? "What's the point of being good at something if you can't even use that talent?"

Amanda frowned and folded her hands together, considering this for a moment, all the sides of this that Jim wasn't showing, the full scope of the issue. She measured her words carefully- as always- before she spoke. "That's what life is, Jim- a bunch of people and places and talents that don't really fit together until you look back on it all. You're in high school, honey. Right now, you're involved in a lot of things and you're working so hard to keep up with it all that none of it seems to matter." She paused for confirmation until he nodded grudgingly. She wasn't wrong. "It will," she promised. "Everyone has a purpose, and once they find it, everything makes sense. None of your talents go to waste. Some people find their purpose earlier than others, and you can't be stressed about the fact that you haven't found yours…you're sixteen, Jim. Bones found his early- and he has you to thank for that, your eyes and your blindness inspired him."

Jim should've felt better to hear all this- and he kind of did, but also so much worse. Almost furious. I know my purpose," he muttered, glaring.

Amanda looked taken aback by the glare and that only pissed Jim off more. If she was so good at reading people, she should know why he was mad. "What is it?" she said wearily.

"That ship that I draw, those memories you ripped off the goddamn wall!" he growled, hands clenching and unclenching over his knobby kneecaps. Amanda frowned then, her expression closing off into a steely mask, and she didn't speak for several seconds- until Jim filled it in angrily, "I know you remember stuff too, that's why it pisses you off so much. You like to pretend-"

"Jim, stop it right now-" she cut in.

But, Jim was determined to finish his accusation, "-PRETEND you don't, but you do!" he shouted. "You do. And you just avoid it because you think it makes you crazy- but it doesn't. If it does, well…well we're both crazy. I'm not crazy."

Amanda's open expression had closed off into a hard mask, and Jim knew where this would go. She'd start reciting statistical probability of her finding a child in the desert with a similar mental affliction to her own, and Jim would fight back until she'd leave the room. They'd done this a thousand times, and he expected a thousand more…until her hard mask broke suddenly and she looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, frowning for a moment…then letting out a small breathy laugh. "That's debatable."

"We'll let a counsel of your peers contest it," Jim joked back under his breath, staring hard in disbelief. He paused for a moment and let the silence convey his curiosity before he asked, "…Will you ever tell me the truth?"

"The truth?" she said, a calm sort of acceptance seeming to come over her now- in for a penny. She stood carefully and walked past Jim. He got to his feet and followed her across the hall into her room where she buried herself into the closet for a moment, returning with a massive three-ringed binder. She nodded to Jim, setting the binder down on the floor and sitting with him, opening the cover.

"I have dozens of notebooks," she admitted after a moment, allowing Jim to flip through the pages. On each, Jim recognized his mother's small, neat handwriting- in thousands upon thousands of meticulously-drawn alien letters. "Almost twenty languages," she explained. "None of them exist- I've checked. But, I couldn't ever get these words out of my head. I've been recording them for years. It was all I could remember…"

Jim looked up from the book, raising his brows inquisitively, blue eyes wide and innocent.

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Several years before I found you and your brother, I had a head injury in Nevada- in the same town where I found you," she explained. "When I came back around, I had amnesia; no one knew me and I didn't have any identification papers. And, I didn't…" She was clenching and unclenching her hands in her lap, "I still haven't found my family- if I had one."

Jim stared at his mother's hands, trembling in her lap, and he reached out, covering them carefully in his own, squeezing lightly. When she looked up, she gave him a nod in understanding. They had a family now- no matter what they had before.

"So, when I found you and your brother in that desert," she said, "I had to keep you, I just- I couldn't let anyone else take you in. And, the struggle we went through to find Leonard, it was all worth it, just to have you both together."

Jim nodded his agreement.

"I never want you to think I don't appreciate you or that I'd trade you for anyone else..." She squeezed Jim's hands back firmly, drifting off on that thought, weighing her next words a bit longer than necessary.

"I'm sensing a 'but' in here," Jim prompted.

Amanda frowned, but nodded, "But, I think I had a son…" She flipped the pages of her notebook to the very back where she'd sketched out a picture, drawing her hands away quickly as if the pages burnt them.

She wasn't the greatest artist, but the likeness was enough for Jim to recognize, and his breath caught tight in his throat.

…

.

Regular Orbit: Theta Cygni XII (Gregorian date: February 1, 2261/ Galactic Stardate: -52403.96191)

"So, your nervous system's not showing any signs of damage. All your reflexes are normal, but your vitals are still way off, Jim," Bones was saying, somewhere under the ringing in Kirk's ears. "Heartbeats been elevated by six bpm since the incident with Khan's blood, and you said you've been gettin' more exercise?"

"I PT every night that I'm not laid up in here," Kirk assured, voice clipped, "But, I'm a little curious, Doc-"

"Jim-" Bones pleaded, obviously sensing where Kirk was going to take the conversation.

"I mean, not that my blood pressure isn't fascinating…"

"Jim, please-"

"But, can we talk about the fact that Carol Marcus is pregnant with my child?!"

"I wanted to tell ya, Jim!" Bones said defensively. "You know I did."

"You wanted to," Kirk conceded. "But you didn't?" he said, voice cracking, a little incredulous- mostly betrayed.

"She made it pretty clear that she didn't want you t'know," Bones sighed, setting his tricorder aside and folding his arms over his chest. He looked no more pleased about that fact than Kirk felt. "And, while I like my job-"

Kirk snorted bitterly.

Bones shot a glare, "Yes, believe it or not, Jim, I enjoy patching y'up every time you come in here wearin' your organs inside out. But, I enjoy having my own organs on the inside more. So, pardon me if I chose to respect the doctor-patient confidentiality we owe our weapons specialist…" Bones had a way of making excuses sound like lectures. It pissed Kirk off to no end.

"You mind telling me how this even happened?!" Kirk snapped. "You handled our contraceptive shots."

"And you were perfectly up-to-date. Both of you!" Bones shot back, offended that Jim was pushing the blame around, "It's not my fault if you two had excessively fertile genetics!"

Kirk's glare didn't dim a notch, but he had nothing to say to that.

"Now, what're we gonna do about your stress levels?" Bones said, picking his tricorder back up as if the conversation was finished.

"Fuck stress." Kirk kicked up off the biobed, shoving away McCoy's hand when he moved to push him back down. He stormed from the sickbay, leaving a trail of silence in his wake.

"Sound plan," Bones muttered, pursing his lips. Truly, he might as well have signed up for pediatrics.

…

Regular Orbit: Theta Cygni XII (Gregorian date: February 1, 2261/ Galactic Stardate: -52403.96203)

Even on medical probation, Kirk was still in high-demand, receiving calls from the weapons bay, medical, and botany lab- all at once. Emotional-wreck as he may be at the moment, he still had a ship to care for. Taking priorities, he jogged to the science decks as he sent messages to Rand. The biggest perk of having a personal assistant- other than her cherry-red lipstick which matched the short cut of her regulation skirt- was that she'd run errands for him…even if those errands included getting yelled at by Bones.

He let Rand deal with his CMO while he checked in on the botany lab's alert. Apparently some of the science crew had beamed a few specimens of Cygnian flora aboard for study- which was fine and totally within mission parameters. But, innocent curiosity backfired- like always- when one of the carnivorous plants had turned out to be a snarky little shit. It waited until the officers had tucked it in nice and cozy in the greenhouse labs before it opened its bulbous 'mouth' and let forth a swarm of pissed-off stinging insects from a nest it had caught before extraction.

Maybe Kirk was imagining the smug smirk on that plant, but sentient or not, he wanted it off his ship. This was why he hadn't focused on xenobiology at the Academy. Space bees. Really? He definitely wasn't imagining the purple pustules that were swelling up on nine of his scientists.

Since Spock was acting Captain, his duties as Science Officer had fallen on Lieutenant McKenna, and she was bustling about, barking out orders when she noticed Kirk. She gave him a confident nod- that she had everything under control but was glad he'd checked in. The greenhouse had been quarantined as a team of armored guards were catching the insects in nets and boxing them up in containment cells. A medical team had arrived and was in the process of isolating and treating the scientists who had been stung. Kirk returned McKenna's nod with a look of approval and pushed away from the thick glass that separated the science decks from the main halls.

His people knew how to handle this stuff.

He headed down to the weapons deck next which had taken a lot of damage when the Cygnians had fired on the Enterprise. Repairs had been underway during shore leave, and Kirk had been receiving reports on their inventory even after he'd announced (via a crew-wide comm message) that he'd temporarily stepped down as Captain for personal reasons (which had led directly to three-hundred and forty-nine 'get better soon' messages- with varying levels of effort…and the occasional animation or vid-feed attachment).

Engineering had sent him an alert that the phase canons weren't reaching their full charge capacity, and he reported to the weapons bay because the ship couldn't leave orbit until all systems were operating at one-hundred percent…not because it gave him an excuse to hound Carol.

Really.

"If you would just slow down," Kirk huffed, breathing a little heavily as he followed her from one canon bay to the next. She'd been running back and forth for the past fifteen minutes, taking notes and running scans.

"I'm busy, Captain," she snapped, ignoring him pointedly- again, as she knelt next to an engineer and began talking him through some adjustments to the relays he was reworking, "We need to reach five-hundred gigajoules, think you can give me that?" she said- and the man gave her a nod.

"Carol!" Kirk said, voice cracking in desperation. "Stop avoiding me…please."

She stopped- finally- and turned on him like a snapped cord…fuck, maybe that was worse. "What do you need?" she hissed.

Kirk stood, frozen for several seconds in fear of speaking, but knowing he'd have to eventually. He'd rather wrestle a Gorn than face Carol all venomous like this but somehow he found his voice, soft and a little hoarse, "I…I know…everything."

If Kirk didn't know Carol as well as he did, he would've missed the small flash of horror that shot through her eyes as she realized what he'd meant, quickly swallowed up by anger and grim acceptance. "McCoy told you," she concluded, her tone full of dark promises for the good country doctor.

"He wouldn't do that," Kirk said firmly. "You know he wouldn't- and you said yourself…people noticed."

"Who?" she demanded, looking ready to throw something, and Kirk had to clench his fists to avoid the impulse to make a run for it.

"Does it really matter?" he rasped.

She glared at him for several seconds before turning her back to him and stalking away, keeping on with her job- but, she didn't scream at him when he followed behind her. In fact, she seemed to expect it, talking as she moved, "It doesn't matter," she agreed, voice deceptively calm. "It doesn't change anything, does it? I know exactly how this ends-"

"What?" Kirk said, brows drawing together as he followed at her heel.

She ignored him again for several minutes as she climbed into a circuit-chamber to try and re-route some power to the canons. Kirk wanted more than anything to pull her away protectively and handle the wires himself, but he held back. She was already furious. When she dropped back down to the floor, she fixed her gaze on Kirk and he fidgeted under the force of her full attention, suddenly on him. "I will not have a child with you," she said firmly.

And Kirk really would've rather she'd shot him with the phase canons she was trying to fix. He'd known they were never getting back together again…he'd come to terms with that, so then why did that hurt so much? He couldn't speak to respond to it. He was too busy floundering.

"I spoke to your mother," Carol said harshly, glaring in some kind of accusation. "She told me about Peter."

Peter…fuck, Kirk grit his teeth against the sting of that and followed her doggedly as she turned her back and tried to cut off the conversation. "You think I wanted to leave him behind?" Kirk grabbed her shoulder angrily, insulted and hurt. "You weren't even gonna ask me!" You'd just take my mother's word for it?" He had toldher about his mother…back when he thought that's what healthy relationships were about- honesty. "I don't understand how you could believe I'd abandon my brother's son by choice…"

She was absolutely livid when she spun to face him, "No, I believe you had to! I believe that you were suddenly responsible for a kid you didn't plan on having and all you wanted was to keep your job! Because you love your job and you're good at it, so you left him! Just like you'll have to leave me on a space station if I'm having this kid," she growled, "because I can't raise a child on a starship! And I…" she cracked a little, "I have a job- which I love and I'm good at it," she said, and her tone of voice was shifting from furious, careening quickly into something miserable. "And I can't do this, Jim. I won't have this kid if it means giving that up…"

That hit like a blow to the chest and Kirk stilled, staring with his mouth agape. "You don't- you…you're not keeping it?"

"Jim…no. Just no, we're not discussing this," and she sounded so final that Kirk's mind blanked. She'd obviously spent a lot of time thinking this through. She turned and started leaving him all over again.

"So what was the plan exactly?" Kirk said, a little frantic, something horrible rising up in him, threatening to take hold. "Keep this a secret from me until you could get rid of the problem? I don't get any say in this?"

She turned again and stared, eyes narrowing in blank disbelief. If he were in a clearer state of mind, Kirk could've understood that- it wasn't like she had wanted to break up with him. He'd kind of forced her to when she'd walked in on him receiving a blow job from a…particularly talented betazoid. She seemed to deflate at the sight of his devastation, giving up on being angry- something she'd probably spent a lot of time practicing since she'd met Kirk. "Jim, I talked it over with Christine and Gaila…and I know you don't consider them the best sources for advice- especially not about you, but they made valuable points. We all know you don't want to settle down, and I don't either. I considered the New Life program which would preserve the fetus for a mother who can't conceive, but fetuses kept in cryostasis for implant often suffer serious health problems and complications at birth. I couldn't chance that. Even if you decided you wanted to keep the child- which you wouldn't- the final decision comes down on me, and that's not the choice I'll make."

That said, she turned her back again and was swallowed up in the rush of engineers working to fix the canons. Kirk couldn't move as he watched her leaving again, stuck like an island in a current of people with purposes- important things to do. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring blankly at a mess of wires and tubes, exposed in the repair efforts, but no one tried to move him, and eventually the room cleared out around him, leaving him alone with the quiet hum of the engines at warp.

…

Starship: Enterprise, Location: Jouret IV Space (Gregorian date: February 1, 2261/ Galactic Stardate: -52403.96003)

If Kirk expected some privacy and solace in his quarters, that hope was quickly shattered when the door slid open to reveal Spock, seated at his desk- which would've been a massive surprise if Kirk was thinking straight. He hadn't expected Spock to ever speak to him with the same familiarity if at all- much less visit his quarters. But, as it was, no thoughts of his brazen assault on Spock's face a few nights prior even brushed his mind. He'd been blocking everything as hard as he could, and right now, his mind was totally bereft of feeling.

Spock rose as Kirk stepped in, an explanation for his intrusion obviously on his lips- which quickly died as Kirk walked right past him with a quiet detachment into the bedroom, and then began undressing, pulling both layers of his uniform shirts off in one go.

Taut planes of Kirk's back were suddenly exposed as he tossed the shirts aside carelessly. "…C-Captain?" Spock said, his voice shaking uncharacteristically as Kirk shucked down his pants and kicked them into the pile of shirts. Not that Kirk was a threat- even if he looked dangerous in nothing but tight black boxers- but the First Officer couldn't read the intentions behind Kirk's deliberate undressing.

By the time Kirk had pulled on his pajamas, Spock had turned his back and busied himself with a stack of data PADDs on the desk. His hands moved slowly and deliberately, but Kirk was getting the sense of feverishness beneath the controlled motions. He watched Spock from the bedroom, blinking numbly, not really considering how he might've made the Vulcan uncomfortable. "What can I help you with, Spock?" he said simply.

Spock tensed a little, "It came to my attention that beta shift had an encounter with a sentient species of telepaths during their allotted time on-planet," he said, chancing it and turning back around.

It was the obvious relief on Spock's face, seeing Jim clothed, that snapped the Captain out of his detached haze. Spock had seen him shirtless before and he'd never been scandalized by it until now, but Kirk realized the circumstances the reason why Spock was so relieved that he'd dressed. He recalled why he should be surprised that Spock was even in here. And it all came flooding back- George, Winona, Peter…Khan and Pike- the radiation chamber…the shitty step-fathers, Tarsus IV…Carol. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to force down the anxiety and heartache that was steadily forcing his blood pressure up.

He'd spent the last week shoving everything down single-mindedly, like amputation to avoid infection, but the wound still throbbed and he knew something had to break. "Are those the PADDs they've been writing on?" he said after a moment, pointing to the tablets on the table which Spock seemed to be so fascinated with. His hand shook with the effort to control himself, but his voice held miraculously.

"A few of many," Spock answered serenely, like nothing unusual had happened between them- like nothing unusual was happening in the Captain's head. "Mr. Scott informed me that you intend to condense the files they provide. You may wish to begin with these."

Kirk couldn't tell if he should be relieved or frustrated with Spock right now. And the miracle of being able to speak- that looked like a one-time thing because he couldn't get any more words out.

Instead, he just snapped, a gasping sob- somewhere between a cough and a moan- broke from his throat and the floodgates flew open. He shot a frightened, desperate look at Spock, just before the onslaught of emotion broke through his walls. Suddenly he was finding it difficult to breathe through the wracking of his body into silent sobs. He gave in to it easily- because, shit…this wasn't a no-win scenario, this was inevitable. He'd just hoped to be alone when it hit. "Fuck!" He grit his teeth and clenched his fists as his shoulders shook, his nose running and face streaking with tears. Each breath was a struggle against the spasms of his lungs, and he tried to ignore how gross his face felt, focusing solely on keeping upright.

He felt alone and exhausted and weak- so weak. No one had ever stayed with him- from day one, his father had abandoned him to save the crew, his mother had abandoned him to lead a starship, he'd been left by his brother who was supposed to be on his side against their mother's boyfriends, every teacher had given up on him, the other kids had avoided him for his cocky disposition, girls used him for an easy fuck. He'd been left to his own devices on Earth where he'd squandered his talents like it would prove a point- he wasn't even sure what that point was. Then, he'd been left with distant relatives in the Tarsus system and a genocidal dictator. Fuck if anyone had cared whether he lived or died…

He'd just never been brave enough to solve the problem on his own.

He'd gotten Pike killed, the only man to act like a father for him. He'd gotten his brother killed, abandoned his nephew, and broken his mother's heart. And now he'd pushed Carol into a position where she had to take action against everything she believed- and it was killing Kirk to think of how she must feel. He was ashamed and alone and hated everything about this, and he couldn't stop crying.

To say Spock looked terrified would be putting it lightly. If Kirk wasn't busy trying to avoid choking on his own hiccuping sobs, he'd be surprised the Vulcan hadn't fled the room from such a blatant display of emotionalism. He'd be sure it was the Armageddon when Spock stepped closer and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

As it was, through squinted, blurry eyes, he found Spock a whole lot closer than before. Somehow that just got Kirk more worked up, and he was gulping for air faster- because…was Spock really offering comfort? What had he done to deserve that? Where was the logic in it?

He couldn't quite believe it, but Spock gave a solemn nod- an offering, and who was he to question it? He hiccuped again, "Y-your shields…" he protested.

"Will hold," Spock assured, confident and calm, and Kirk buckled into it. He'd seen Spock cry, and that had been the most intimate he'd ever been with a person- because it was Spock and emotions, but it was nothing in comparison to this rawness. He wrapped his arms around Spock's chest- a familiar body held in an unfamiliar way, and he tucked his face into the curve of a pale neck and just sobbed, not caring that Spock could've felt everything through the touch. He trusted Spock not to purposefully invade his privacy, but he noticed the flinch at first contact and the way Spock's muscles were tensed.

But, Spock just took it. And, Kirk cried harder for it, clutching tight. He'd failed so many people, hurt them in the way others had hurt him, and now he was torturing his most loyal friend by sobbing all over him.

Spock didn't seem to blame him though. He brought his hands up carefully to return the embrace in the most stiff and robotic way possible, wrapping his arm gingerly over Kirk's back and flattening his hand over a clothed shoulder, steadying the Captain until he was breathing more regularly. "Jim…articulate. What is the cause of this?" he said levelly.

Spock knew damn well what the problem was. Kirk was plastered all over him; he'd be picking up on everything. Kirk cursed Uhura bitterly, knowing she'd taught Spock to do that with humans- make them talk about it. What a bitch- teaching Spock to be a good friend. Kirk just shook his head and brushed his fingers over the fine hairs at the base of Spock's neck, forcing him to shiver minutely.

"I-If you are unwell, you must verbalize…," Spock's voice cracked a little, straining to maintain his shields. The tendons in his neck stretched taught under Kirk's cheek. "I do not wish to report this incident to medical personnel; however, I will do so if you cannot-"

"I'm a fuck-up, Spock," Kirk snapped, shaking with the effort and clutching tighter. Threatening to call medical- what a low-blow… "Everyone…everything, I ruin…I…" Saying it worked him back up again and his breath caught as he flashed back to the image of Pike's eyes, wide and frozen in terror; his crewmen, limp and squirming as the vacuum of space flung them around like puppets; Spock's desperate expression, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pressed into the glass; Peter's agonized screaming as the virus tore through him; Winona's heartbroken fury; the Cygnians falling into a pile of their dead; Riley's silent sobs of hunger; the weak grip of children's fingers as they starved to death, staring up at him; Carol's solemn acceptance. "I…ruin everything…"

Spock moved suddenly, pushing Kirk until his arms released their hold- and he made a quick noise of protest- only to grab the Captain again, wrapping his arms around Kirk's waist and pushing him backwards. Kirk didn't have much choice but follow or get dragged, his feet struggling to keep up with Spock's long strides- and his brain struggling to keep up with the weird sort of friction it was causing. Spock sat him down on his bed forcefully and gave him an intense look- conveying some kind of fury with just his eyes. "Jim- Captain, that notion is absurd."

And then Spock- and his hard lines and heat- was gone, pulling away from Kirk, much to his petulant protest, "Be still," Spock ordered simply, backing away and schooling his face into neutrality. His hands folded neatly behind his back where he stood- way too far away. "Captain, explain the source of your erroneous logic."

Kirk just stared, his eyes still watering which was pretty much out of his control at this point. "Carol's pregnant, Spock…" he said quietly, drawing in a shaky breath. However much he didn't want to say it, he was so desperate for Spock to know. "She's not keeping it. She thinks-"

"It is a decision she has undoubtedly come to through consideration of multiple factors in her life- not a reflection of your own ineptitude," Spock said before Kirk could even begin to blame himself.

Sitting on his bed, being treated like a child, Kirk was starting to feel paranoid that Spock had actually let his shields slip and peeked in on his emotions- the Vulcan seemed to know something he didn't. "I didn't want her to have to go through that…" he explained.

"Needless grief is best avoided," Spock agreed. "Exactly why sexual intercourse outside the intention of procreation is…illogical."

"You're kidding me…" Kirk muttered miserably, a knot tightening in his chest above where his lungs were still shaking on every other breath. "I already feel like a fuck-up, and you're gonna lecture me on my illogic…"

Spock stared at him hard, his expression completely neutral and dispassionate. He seemed to consider the idea, and that scared Kirk more than anything. Spock could use logic like a knife when he wanted. "Jim…you have preserved the viability of fourteen planets, arguably more, and your own included. Actions taken by yourself and your crew, under your command, have protected innumerable species from extinction- including my own," Spock said, analytical as ever, but his words had gripped the knot in Kirk's chest and were pulling it steadily apart, stunning his sobs into silence. "The productivity of your life and your achievements has far exceeded that of any other individual in recorded history…of any known planet," he continued. "Furthermore, your contributions may not even be calculated as you have given the invaluable gift of time and opportunity for advancement to otherwise doomed civilizations. Because of you, the universe may improve and advance."

Kirk was powerless to do anything but stare, wide-eyed, because fuck. He believed Spock. He'd trust anything Spock said to him, knowing first-hand that the Vulcan was capable of lying. But, he believed Spock had done the math, and come to the conclusion that Jim had saved the universe. It settled like a warm weight in his chest, knowing that his First Officer saw the logic behind everything he was saying now, all the admiration he was conveying.

But, Spock continued, "In your time serving as Captain of this vessel, you have not only rectified any past guilt through laudable deeds of far greater weight, you have also developed positive leadership qualities which have earned you high esteem in the Federation. Therefore, it is entirely illogical to call yourself a failure…in so many words."

A heavy silence fell over the room as Spock finished, and Kirk was torn between wanting to wrap himself around the Vulcan and never ever let him go- and wanting to hide from the praise in unworthy shame. He held Spock's gaze for several tense moments as he fought with himself, cracking under the pressure of it all. Eventually, he just collapsed, falling boneless and exhausted onto his bed. "If all that's true, why am I so miserable?" he grumbled.

"A human affliction," Spock said simply like it was the answer to every ill, "you are emotionally invested in the well-being of individuals."

If Kirk were in a better mindset, he'd probably comment that humans weren't the only ones with that 'affliction' (Spock had just let him hug it out for fuck's sake- if that wasn't 'emotionally invested', he didn't know what was), but he was too caught up in grief to make snarky quips- a testament to all the shit he'd endured that week. Instead of responding, he just dragged himself to the side of his bed with a subdued groan and pushed the covers up, crawling inside. He curled up under the blankets, facing Spock where he still stood with formal posture- more rigid now than before.

"I will leave you to your rest-" he said stiffly.

"Don't," Kirk cut in.

"Captain?"

"Leave…" he finished, "…don't leave." It was less of a request than an order, but Spock hesitated where he stood, not moving in either direction for several minutes. Kirk lifted the covers over the empty space on his mattress. "Please," he insisted, his voice soft, his movements restless and lethargic.

"That would be…unwise," Spock protested. "And highly inappropriate as we are commanding officers-"

"Spock…" Kirk pleaded. For some reason it was imperative to his existence that Spock just stay.

He didn't quite have the energy to be surprised when Spock finally obeyed, pressing a knee carefully into the mattress, maneuvering with care and lying back slowly as if any disturbance of the mattress could be a criminal offense. It put Kirk on edge for several long seconds, but he relaxed when his First Officer's weight settled into the mattress and was still.

Somewhere along the line, he had come to associate a warm body in his bed with being emotionally stable- and though he usually left his bedmates to sleep alone, he always relaxed with a person lying beside him. Bones was right. Jim fucked his feelings, but he slept with his sanity.

And he slept soundly that night.

...

.

I don't think you understand how much I hate this chapter. I wrote this thing 12 times. My computer kept freezing and I'd lose all my work and have to restart. And, I can't write someone crying without getting myself worked up and in-character, so I forced myself to cry for ten hours last night.

I'm still not pleased with it.

Hope you enjoyed it though. Please review.