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Admiral Kirk.
Jim smiled to himself. He’d just accepted the promotion, and now tried his new name on for size. It would take some getting used to. He was the bigshot Starfleet boss now. McCoy was wrong; he could get used to this, sitting behind a desk. It would just be yet another challenge to overcome.
First things first. He needed to check his mail for any important communique.
He scrolled through, seeing mostly normal things, like updates from Starfleet Medical, press releases, and news from the scientific community. He paused at one mail from Commander Spock. Jim frowned. Unusual. Spock never sent him electronic messages before. He’d always just talked to him in person. What was this about? Jim clicked on it, feeling only mild curiosity.
“Admiral James Kirk,
I am writing to inform you of my resignation from Starfleet. It is my intention to return to Vulcan to achieve Kolinahr, the purging of all emotion in seclusion at a monastery. I do not expect to return. Therefore, I will be ceasing all communications.
Of my service, I say this: it resembled Sulu’s botanical specimens. The experiences can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. Live long and prosper.”
Jim stared in numb shock. “No, no, no,” echoed numbly in his brain. This couldn’t be. This shouldn’t be. This, this was just impossible. Spock, gone? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Mechanically, he finished reviewing his mail and sipped his coffee, hardly aware of what he was doing.
The strange fog lifted, and Jim’s face fell into his hands as he started to cry. Spock had become one of the constants in his life like the sun, moon, and the stars. He was just always there – not in a look at me kind of way, but just present, permeating many, if not all, facets of his life. He just couldn’t imagine doing this job without Spock, his insight, his support, his knowledge, damn, just his company. He thought he’d known how much Spock meant to him. He’d known he’d be upset if Spock ever left, but this, this was far more intense than he’d expected. This gut wrenching, drowning, asphyxiating grief gripped him and now wouldn’t let go.
Inconsolable, Jim managed to take a few breaths and open a channel, claiming sickness, and went home, where he cried helplessly. Quietly, gently, unobtrusively, Spock had become one of the most important people in his life. Why did he have to go? Why? “Dammit Spock,” Jim ground out, still hardly able to breathe from how tight his chest was. Why did he have to go, really? Go and piss off to Vulcan. Yes, he knew what people would say. “He’s in a better place; he belongs with his own kind, where he’ll finally be at peace.” No, damn, it wasn’t better place! Spock belonged here, with him! Hadn’t he been happy? Didn’t he have everything he wanted right here? Didn’t he have plenty of reasons to stay? Why did he have to go so soon? He couldn’t even say goodbye. Spock had made that pretty clear. Spock would have told him in person, otherwise. Yes, he knew his friend well.
It was almost like he’d died. In a sense, he had, at least to Kirk. They would never speak again, or see each other. He was, what? Going to purge all emotion? That meant everything they had together as well. Would Spock even be recognizable afterward? Not that there would be an afterward, Jim thought bitterly.
One day became two, then three. His grief hardly let up, though the initial shock passed. Yes, he might be able to go back to work tomorrow – as long as no one mentioned Spock. He didn’t think he could hold it together.
Thankfully, no one mentioned Spock, though they did seem puzzled as to why he seemed a little down. After all, he’d just gotten promoted to one of the highest positions in Starfleet. He’d reached the pinnacle of his career. Apparently, he was supposed to be burping rainbows or something. Spock would, of course, say that was ill- dammit. Did he really think about Spock that often? Had Spock really become so big to him that without him, all that was left was a massive, gaping, agonizing black hole that sucked him in, time and time again?
Apparently so.
The next day was better. People mentioned Spock a few times, and he was able to keep a straight face. However, he could only keep it up for so long, and still broke down in private. He couldn’t go on like this. Important work was being sidelined; he was getting behind. He needed to get his promotion off to a good start if he wished to gain respect in his new position. But, such was his grief, he could hardly bring himself to care about it.
The weekend came, a little over a week after Spock’s pronouncement. Jim decided to take Dr. McCoy sailing in hopes of distracting himself. The sea had a way of relaxing him and taking his mind off pressing issues.
The doctor, however, was not to be deterred, and got the whole sordid story out of Jim.
“Dammit Jim, think about this from his point of view! He formed a close bond with you too. He would have followed you anywhere. But when you accepted that blasted promotion, he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t fit in your life anymore. How do you think he felt about that?”
“He could have gotten a teaching job,” Jim grumbled mulishly. “We still could have seen each other.”
“Jim, did you even give him any indication that you wanted him to stick around?”
Jim opened his mouth, and closed it.
“You just assumed that he would,” McCoy said knowingly.
Jim lowered his gaze. Yes, he’d foolishly taken Spock for granted, and now he was paying dearly for it.
“Well, why don’t you tell him then? See if those Culinair masters accept refunds.”
Jim smiled weakly at his friend’s pronunciation. “And he’ll come back home, just like that? Just because I said so?” Jim’s voice ached with doubt.
“What, the man who cheated on the Kobayashi Maru is going to back down without a fight?” McCoy wondered sarcastically.
“You’re right, Bones,” Jim concluded. He couldn’t let him go without a fight. At the very least, he had to tell Spock how much he appreciated him and wanted him to stay. He had to give it one last chance.
He tracked down Spock. Surprisingly, the Vulcan hadn’t left Earth yet. Odd; usually, when Spock made up his mind about something, he immediately, efficiently, carried out his plans. Why the delay? Was McCoy right, and Spock just as reluctant to part as Jim was? His bit about experiences not able to be preserved did seem pretty melancholy, now that he thought about it. The thought gave him hope that he wasn’t about to make a big fool of himself.
Jim rang the door to Spock’s apartment, his heart beating fast. Sure, he’d had heartfelt discussions before, but this was Spock. They didn’t talk about this stuff. And it was so important. This was it, or Spock would leave him forever.
He was met with silence. Maybe Spock was out? He tried again, and was about to leave, when the door opened. Spock stared at him, his expression unfathomable.
“May I…come in?” Jim asked uncertainly.
Wordlessly, Spock stepped back, making room for him. Jim dashed in quickly before the Vulcan could change his mind.
“Look, Spock, I know you plan on leaving, but…” Jim started, pacing; then he forced himself to stand still and look Spock in the eye. “Is there any possibility that you could…stay?”
“My work here is finished,” said Spock tonelessly.
“Yes, I know, but… is it really? There is just so much more that can be explored….” Jim paused. This wasn’t where he intended to go. Selfish as it may be, he didn’t want Spock to go off captaining a ship somewhere. The fact was, if Spock really wanted to do that, he would have long ago. “What about you and me?”
“To what do you refer?” Spock asked. While his voice still largely sounded calm and detached, Jim detected a shift in tone. He ploughed on.
“Does our relationship have no value to you? I don’t know about you, but to me…” Jim swallowed. This was it. “You…mean a lot to me. I value your input, your company, your friendship, your support. I can’t imagine life without you. I’m sorry that I never said this before. You crept up on me.” Jim smiled. “You quietly made yourself indispensable. I should have realized this, said something. But I didn’t. Not until you sent me that message. Since then, I’ve been…” Jim trailed off. “Spock, stay with me. I’m sure we can work something out.” A beat. “Please.”
Spock’s face softened. “You are an Admiral now. The Enterprise is undergoing a refit that will take years. I have no place here, Jim. What would you have me do?”
“How about a teaching job? Just temporarily, until the Enterprise goes out again.”
“Without you?” Spock asked skeptically.
“I’ll step down,” Jim said determinedly. It hadn’t occurred to him before this, but now that he said it, he realized he completely meant it. Spock was far more important than any promotion.
Spock’s brows pulled together. “Jim?”
“I made a mistake, accepting promotion. I see that now. I’ll do anything to fix it.” Jim took a deep breath. “Say you’ll stay.”
Spock regarded him seriously before his face softened again into his ‘almost’ smile. “Yes, Jim. I will stay.”
Jim knew that someday, he would lose Spock, and how badly that would hurt. But he wouldn’t focus on that. For now, and for as long as possible, he would treasure every moment he had with this special man.
May his memory endure forever.