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0245 was late. Well, late by alpha-shift’s artificial diurnal cycle. It was stupid to think Spock wouldn’t be asleep. But, Kirk doubted he was waking his First Officer by knocking on his door. Spock usually worked into the late hours of the morning, and Kirk just…he needed to see someone familiar to prove to himself where he was, that he wasn’t dreaming- that the nightmare wasn’t reality. Spock wouldn’t begrudge him a late-night visit.
The door slipped open to a dark room and a wave of warm air rushed out into Kirk’s face. Spock was standing with one arm still extended at the controls where he’d just opened the door, his hair sticking up a little from contact with his pillow and his sleeping robes slightly askew. “Captain?”
It was obvious from Spock’s state of disarray and the grit in his voice that Kirk had woken him up which…the Captain had not expected. He looked up at Spock for a moment before shifting his eyes to the room beyond, “Uh…hi,” he muttered. “Sorry for bothering you, I just…” -the nightmare was still really vivid, blood running through gutters, crying children in the streets with tattered clothes and shrunken stomachs, nooses, shooting lines, bodies piled up in ditches beside farmland. The Captain had frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, but he caught back up with himself and recovered, “Nevermind, I was just checking in…thought you’d be awake,” he said smoothly.
Spock raised a brow, eyes narrowing just a tick- just enough that Kirk wanted to bolt. But, rather than berate him for a sudden, unregulated visit in the middle of the night, Spock leaned against the doorframe and squinted back, scrutinizing the Captain’s state of undress- Starfleet sweats and a white t-shirt. Spock obviously noticed that something was wrong- or at least, Kirk was getting that vibe. “I am awake. You may come in.”
Waving a hand dismissively, Kirk shifted on his feet. “Ah, it’s just a bout of insomnia,” he lied easily. He couldn’t expect Spock not to get suspicious when he showed up on his doorstep in his PJs, looking all wide-eyed and frightened a month after almost dying in a warpcore and losing a quarter of his engineering crew. But, if he gave Spock a reason to worry, the XO might do something logical like report the Captain to medical for a psyche eval. So, Kirk fell back on reflex, “I just needed to see your pretty face. Helps me sleep at night.” He refrained from patting Spock’s shoulder, but just barely, “Sorry I woke you.”
Impulsive flirting was met with a calculating stare, “You did not. I was having difficulty achieving rest as well,” Spock said simply. “I would not be adverse to company. You should come in.”
Kirk raised both brows. Spock was practically asking for his company. Had he tripped on a transport pad and fallen into an alternate universe again?
Of course, it had been Spock that had walked him through the wreckage of their ship a week after Khan almost destroyed it, and it was Spock who had pulled him back to reality with careful touches to his elbow as he relived the anxiety of scrambling through engineering as she ripped apart and spilled his crew…his family into space. So, maybe Jim’s dying words had made it through that thick Vulcan skull, and Spock was finally starting to understand that the Captain fucking cared about their relationship.
So, Jim gave a little nod and follow Spock’s gesture into the door. He’d rarely had the honor of being in his First Officer’s quarters…okay, he’d been in there like once. But the first thing he noticed wasn’t the heat- though it was a couple notches past too-warm. The first thing he looked to was- surprise, surprise- the bed. But, only because it was rumpled and untucked which couldn’t be typical of Spock. “Wow,” he said aloud, filling the silence, “Can’t Vulcans like…meditate into a coma or something. You’re really having trouble sleeping?”
Spock closed the door and stood beside Jim, keeping his amusement off his face, but his brow quirked again. “It would be more accurate to call it self-induced insomnia. I have been attempting a restful meditation as a means of reflecting on our recent findings in the Theta system, therefore have not slept for three point five-seven ship’s days.”
“Well, I couldn’t even tell,” Kirk said, looking Spock’s face over for lines of exhaustion and finding none, just rumpled bedclothes and imprecise hair. “You’ve been working pretty damn efficiently for an insomniac.”
Spock’s lips pursed, “It is imperative to perform at full capacity despite any physical hindrance. Exhaustion is mental therefore easy for a Vulcan to surmount.”
“Must be nice,” Kirk mused, watching Spock as the XO sat on his bed, back ram-rod straight. “Y’know, to have that much control over your mind.”
“It is the only way my mind has ever worked, therefore, I have no point of comparison to form an opinion,” Spock replied stiffly. His hands fiddled in his lap for a moment, and Kirk watched them. It was uncharacteristic of Spock to get restless. “However, I have often wondered what it would be like to have a mind as chaotic as that of a human.” Spock said it like some kinda dirty secret, and he looked to Kirk as if expecting some kind of admission in return.
“It’s shitty,” Kirk delivered and plopped down on Spock's rack without invitation. “Human minds like to remember shit that’s never even happened to you and fuck up your sleeping patterns.”
Spock’s brow raised in triumph, and Kirk recognized the expression, was almost confused until- “You are experiencing nightmares,” Spock concluded.
Shit. That sneaky Vulcan bastard. Kirk’s eyes widened for a moment before he glared. “I’m not.”
“Denial does not assist your case,” Spock deadpanned, glancing pointedly down at Kirk’s pajama sweats. “You arrived at my door during your allotted rest cycle, showing physical signs of mental distress. Nightmares are the logical cause.”
“I’m human, it happens,” Kirk said, brushing it off. “We get nightmares sometimes.”
“But, you have been having them consistently since the infusion of Khan’s blood into your body,” Spock accused, and before the Captain could deny it, he explained, “I have noted a steady increase in the amount of time you spend out of your quarters during alpha shift’s sleeping call. And, your performance on the bridge is suffering the effects of fatigue. Obviously you recognize the severity of the issue as you have come to me seeking rest.”
“I’m fine, Spock-”
Kirk was cut off with a skeptical look from his First Officer, “Do you believe you will sleep soundly if I am present?”
And Jim was shocked again, brows creeping to his hairline, “I’m not asking to-“
“No. That would not be proper,” Spock agreed, “I am offering. It would be an excessive waste of time to file the paperwork demanding that you seek psychological help, and you would contest it at every step. So, you may sleep in my bed and I will gauge whether or not it alleviates the problem. Otherwise, I will file a request chit that you visit medical for an evaluation.” That said, Spock turned and crawled back on top of his bed, lying straight on his back, to the left of the existing body-print, making room on the right side.
What the hell was happening? Kirk was stuck staring for a long moment. But hey, he’d had orions as bedmates…Spock should be downright tame in comparison.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, walking around to the other side and pushing the covers back. “Let’s see how this works.”