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Jim sat at his desk as he flipped through the images on his viewscreen. He rarely looked at old family pictures. He didn't like looking back. But tonight he wanted to. He had to get the image of Sam's lifeless face out of his head. He looked at pictures of Sam and Aurelan, vibrant and alive with Peter. Hell, Jim couldn't even look at Peter. He'd probably regained consciousness by now.
What was Jim going to tell his mother? He didn't want her to hear of Sam's death from Starfleet first. He should send a subspace message before he turned in his log. His mother would probably want to raise Peter. Which was good because Jim's life made no room for a kid.
Carol had known that.
Just then his his door chimed. "Come," he said.
The door opened and Spock entered, hands clasped behind his back. His usual composed self. Jim stood immediately. "Spock. How are you doing?"
"Quite well, Captain," said Spock. "I only came to see how you were. I understand how deeply the loss of your brother must have affected you."
Jim approached Spock, smiling at him. "Thank you."
There was deep concern in Spock's eyes. No matter how inscrutable Spock thought his face was, Jim could see everything he felt in those eyes. Jim reached up and lay his hand on Spock's face. His thumb stroked the crows feet next to his eye. He swore Spock's breath hitched.
"Captain?" Spock sounded nervous.
"I'm glad you can see again," said Jim.
"As am I," said Spock. "But I would have adapted."
"I know," said Jim, dropping his hand and crossing the room to his bed. He sank down with a sigh.
Spock approached the bed, still concerned for him. "Your nephew is awake," he said.
"How is he holding up?" asked Jim.
"Doctor McCoy says he's having trouble processing the death of his parents."
Jim nodded. "When you lose someone you love, it can take a while for it to feel real."
"Is that what you're going through?" asked Spock, not unkindly.
Jim looked up at him.
"You haven't talked about your brother," said Spock. "With all that happened, you took refuge in your responsibilities. You haven't taken the time to grieve."
"Vulcan psychology?" Jim asked teasingly.
"Common sense," said Spock. "However, I understand some people prefer to grieve alone."
For a moment it looked like Spock was about to leave and an unexpected panic rose up in Jim. He reached out and grabbed Spock's hand before he even thought about it. "No."
Spock looked at him in shock and Jim took a breath. He took Spock's hand in both of his and held the back of it to his forehead. "Stay," whispered Jim. "Please?"
Hesitantly Spock lowered himself onto the bed next to Jim, hand still clasped in his. Jim looked over at him and found Spock looking very intensely at him, a steady green blush rising to his cheeks.
Jim traced circles onto the back of Spock's hand. "Something wrong?" Jim asked.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Spock said, "You're holding my hand."
"Do you not like it?" Jim's grip loosened.
"I like it very much," Spock assured him. "But I'm not sure you're aware of the implication."
"Implication?" asked Jim curiously.
"On Vulcan, touching hands is akin to a kiss," said Spock, heavily.
Jim's eyes widened. "Oh..."
He thought about letting Spock's hand go. Spock did say he liked it though. Still, he let go. They sat in silence for a moment and Jim's mind wandered back to Sam. Spock was right. Since finding his body, he'd thrown himself into saving Spock, Peter, and the planet. He hadn't let himself think about his loss until he'd gotten back to his cabin. Suddenly, it hit him like warp ten. He'd never see his brother again. When he went for family dinners on Fist Contact day, there would be two empty chairs. Sam and Aurelan were dead and in the ground on Deneva. And all at once Jim felt like he was choking. He swallowed, but he couldn't stop a tear from falling. Instinctively, he leaned into Spock. After a millisecond of shock, Spock's arms wrapped around Jim as he let himself cry. He buried his face in Spock's chest and felt Spock press his nose into his hair. When the crying stopped, he still held on to Spock. Gently, he felt Spock's fingers on his face.
"May I?" Spock whispered.
Jim knew he was asking to meld. "Do you think it will help?" asked Jim.
"It won't take the pain away," said Spock gently. "And I won't disturb your memories, but it will help you make sense of things. And it will be soothing."
Jim nodded and raised his head to press it against Spock's. "Please," he acquiesced, gripping the front of Spock's shirt. Spock eased into his mind like it was a warm bath and the euphoria was almost immediate.
"Jim."
He heard Spock's voice in his mind.
"Think of your brother. The happy moments. I'm going to try to highlight them."
Jim focused on the way Sam would hold him by the wrists and spin him around until his feet left the ground when he was little. Splashing in the lake by the farm. Sam and his father teaching him to ride a bike. The few happy moments on the Tarsus IV colony (there were very few). Sam's wedding, where Jim was best man. The day Sam saw him off on his first day as a captain.
All it took was for Jim to wonder if Spock had siblings for him to see flashes of two people. One of them was a human girl. Spock was half human, but she looked nothing like Spock. As suddenly as he saw them, they disappeared.
Spock separated from his mind slowly. Jim pulled back and looked into Spock's eyes.
"Thank you," Jim said. He was breathing heavily.
Jim's mind did feel soothed and comfortable now.
"You're welcome," said Spock, just as affected. He was staring fixedly at Jim's lips.
Jim took a chance and reached for Spock's hand. Spock looked at Jim's hand laying over his and turned it over so Jim could stroke his palm.
"Captain..." breathed Spock shakily.
"Call me Jim." Jim rested his forehead against Spock's again. "Please."
Spock closed his eyes. "I can't," he whispered, pained. "I'm sorry."
"I know you feel it too," said Jim. "It's there when you're in my mind."
"I do," said Spock, and Jim had never heard so much emotion in his voice. "But I have duties. So do you."
"Not in here," said Jim. "Not right now."
Spock, as if he couldn't hold back anymore, entwined his fingers with Jim's and ducked his head to kiss him fervently. For a moment Jim was in heaven, all his troubles forgotten. Then suddenly Spock withdrew and stood.
"Both of us are in a fragile state right now," said Spock, trying to regain composure. "Please forgive my weakness."
"Spock..."
"I should report to the bridge. If you'll excuse me."
With that, Spock turned and left. And Jim felt more alone than ever.
- END -