Chapter Text
Jim groaned as his eyes fluttered open, head pounding. He glanced around the medbay, his memory still fuzzy. The events of the days before started to come back to him as his eyes landed on the sleeping Vulcan next to him.
Spock was holding Jim’s hand tight in his own as he slumped over the far too small medbay chair. From the looks of it, he’d been sleeping there all night. Well, that certainly wouldn’t do.
“Spock,” Jim murmured, his voice still rough from being unused.
Spock’s head immediately jerked up, his eyes snapping to the commander. “Jim.”
Jim couldn’t help but smile. Spock was really here. “Hey. What happened?”
“You lost consciousness again. How are you feeling? I will alert the doctors you are awake—” Spock started, moving to stand.
“Spock!” Jim croaked, weakly squeezing Spock’s hand with a soft smile. “I’m okay. Stay. Please.”
After the years of knowing Spock, Jim had learned to read him better than most. The minuscule glance towards the CMO’s Office, the slight crease in his forehead, all telling Jim that big brain of his was working at full speed.
Once Spock had properly weighed all the pros and cons, he finally relented. “Very well.”
Jim beamed as Spock sat back down in the chair, staring up at his boyfriend.
“Come here,” Jim whined, holding his arms out as much as he could with the excess wires and and monitors strapping him to the bed.
Spock’s tiny frown deepened. “I do not wish to disturb the medical devices attached to your—”
“Spock…” Jim pouted, giving Spock his best puppy dog eyes.
Jim watched with a smile as Spock once again weighed the options before he sighed. Before he even responded, Jim knew he had won.
“Very well. But if you feel any pain you must alert me—”
“I will, I will,” Jim said, beaming as Spock slid onto the bed.
Jim wrapped his arms around Spock, inspecting the bags under Spock’s eyes.
“Did you sit there all night?” Jim asked, nodding towards the chair.
Spock’s hesitation was all the answer Jim needed and he sighed. “Spock…”
“I did not wish to leave you alone.”
“But you could have found a bed or something—”
“Vulcans do not require a bed to sleep.”
“Spock…”
“Jim…”
Jim couldn’t help himself, erupting into a fit of muffled laughter as he buries his head into Spock’s neck.
Confusion drifted through the bond, tinged with light at hearing his laughter.
“What is humorous?” Spock asked.
“It’s just— I still can’t believe you’re here,” Jim breathed.
It all felt too good to be true. Too unlikely. He had somehow survived, the away mission had been a success, and Spock, Spock, was here. How did this happen?
“The event of my presence is quite improbable,” Spock replied, placing a gentle hand in Jim’s hair. Spock held him like a precious glass sculpture, afraid he could shatter at any moment. Every touch was hesitant, slow caresses that lit up their bond across his skin like firecrackers.
These little touches were nothing compared to the warm glowing feeling coming from their linked hands. Jim hadn’t felt this at ease since his last shore leave with Spock.
“I still don’t get it,” Jim murmured. “How did you know I needed you? We were millions of light years apart.”
Spock raised an eyebrow, a spark of energy flickering through them both causing Jim to shiver.
If his arms didn’t feel half dead, Jim would have face palmed.
“The bond…”
“Indeed,” Spock replied and, even though his face was emotionless, Jim could hear the hint of smug pride in his voice.
Jim tried to wrap his head around the insanity of it all. “So wait, you felt me. Felt my pain, all the way on the Enterprise? That’s… incredible.”
Spock nodded. “Yes. It is not only a testament to Vulcan bonds but to our connection. It is uncommon for a natural bond such as ours to be as strong as it is.”
Tracing his fingers across Spock’s chest and even through the fabric, Jim could feel the warmth and energy pulsing through his skin.
“I’m sorry.”
Spock blinked, his dark eyes boring into Jim. “Why are you apologizing?”
Jim huffed, glancing over at the steadily beating heart monitor.
“You had to come all this way and you’re hurting because of me. Because I wasn’t careful enough. Because I wasn’t—”
Jim’s rambling was cut off by a gentle hand pressing against his face. He glanced up as Spock traced his thumb along his cheek bone.
“Jim.” He murmured, pressing his forehead against his. “You were at fault for your injury.” Spock held up a hand before Jim could speak. “But it was to protect others. You are always so selfless, willing to put yourself in harms way for others. But as your bondmate, it is now my turn to care for you. And I would rather nothing else.”
Jim smiled, leaning into the touch. “Okay… But at least promise to get some sleep while you’re at it?” He managed a smile. “I can’t have you getting put in sick bay too.”
Spock smiled, ever so slightly in the way Jim adored. “Very well.”
The pair lay in silence for a moment, listening to the steady hum of the warp core.
“So I guess that means we make a pretty good pair, huh?” He asked, grinning weakly.
Spock huffed softly but he could catch the glimpse of a smile. “It would appear so, yes.”
Jim sighed happily, curling up against Spock. He couldn’t tell if it was the drugs he was on, the fact his pain was shared between him and Spock, or a combination of both, but Jim felt great.
But through the haze of good feeling, a concern nagged in the back of Jim’s mind.
“Spock?”
“Yes, Jim?”
He chewed his lip as he thought about how to put this. “How do we… handle this?”
Spock glanced down at him, his bangs fluttering as he sat up slightly. “Handle what, precisely?”
Jim sighed, searching for the right words to explain this. “All I’m saying is, you can’t fly across the galaxy every time I get a paper cut.”
“I would hardly call this a paper cut.” Spock interjected, frowning slightly.
He smiles, placing his hand across Spock’s. “You know what I mean.”
“I have been given permission to stay on The Farragut for the extent of your recovery.”
“And after that? You have to go back to your ship eventually. And then what?”
Spock glanced down at their intertwined hands. “…If you wish to sever the bond—”
“No!” Jim yelped, trying to sit up too fast and breaking into a fit of coughs.
Fear shot through Spock who jumped forward, helping Jim back down onto the bed.
“Careful, T’hy’la,” Spock chided as he pressed a gentle hand over the bandages. Jim exhaled slowly as he felt the pain subside. Spock was probably taking it again despite Jim insisting he could handle it.
Jim grasped at Spock’s hand, lighting up the bond. Between his coughs he gasped, “No. You said it yourself: T’hy’la. We’re connected. Soulmates. I don’t want to let that go.”
Spock’s dark eyes bored into Jim’s as he thought. He could tell that the gears of his brain were turning again.
“If that is how you feel then… there is one option.” Spock hesitated, glancing down at their entwined hands.
“What is it?” Jim asked, unable to hide the eagerness from his voice.
“Aside from meditation and other emotion regulation techniques, there is a formal bonding ceremony,” Spock explained, choosing his words carefully.
Jim blinked, a tentative emotion flickering through the bond. Spock continued.
“I am aware it sounds counter-intuitive, but a more… formal bond will allow us to manage each other’s emotions without ending up in similar states. It would not diminish our connection, simply organize it.”
Jim nodded, his mind flickering back to him and and Spock talking on the roof when they were cadets.
“It is not a full bond. Yet, anyways.”
Yet. That word had always stuck with him: yet. A promise. A promise of a future for them. Together. No matter what happened.
“Of course, we would have to travel to Vulcan, and the bonding ceremony would be quite public. All secrecy would no longer be possible.” Spock finished, the unasked question lingering in the air. Spock watched Jim’s expression, his warm eyes so wide and open. Waiting.
Jim reached out, his hand gently stroking across the side of Spock’s face, warmth spreading through them both.
“I don’t care if people find out. What others think of me, of us, none of that matters as much as this. This… simple feeling,” He squeezed Spock’s hand, “Is worth more than anything the federation, our families or what anyone thinks, for that matter.”
Spock’s face softened, that rare, tiny smile reserved only for Jim spreading across his face. God, what Jim would do for that smile.
“Jim…” Spock murmured in that soft private way he only used when they were alone, “Are you certain—”
“Positive.”
Then, a sight that made Jim’s breath catch in his throat: Spock beamed. Not his normal small, quiet smile. No, this was a full face grin of relief.
Spock looked beautiful like this. How could he not kiss him?
“I love you,” Jim murmured against Spock’s lips.
“And I you, T’hy’la,” Spock replied, cupping Jim’s face in his hands.
After a few more moments of silence, Jim mused.
“Do you think we’ll ever be on the same ship someday?”
Spock hummed, glancing over Jim’s head at the stars twinkling outside the window and Jim followed his gaze. Each star was unique, shining in defiance against all odds.
“I would not be surprised,” Spock replied. “Our souls are intertwined in more ways than one. You will no doubt be a captain one day. And I would be honored to serve under you.”
Jim beamed, his eyes fluttering closed as his mind already began to whirl with millions of imagined adventures that he and Spock would have when they were finally on the same ship, exploring the galaxy just like they’d always dreamed of.
“Captain Kirk…” Jim breathed, smiling faintly. “It’s got a nice ring to it, huh.”
Spock let out a soft huff of hair, his breath tickling Jim’s skin. “Indeed it does.”
Jim smiled, drifting to sleep to the sound of the warp core humming and Spock’s steady breathing.
Someday, He thought, Someday.