Chapter Text
Chris had managed to find his apartment surprisingly easily. It wasn’t like there were any other apartment locations, and he knew Spock would wanna be on the highest floor. That, with the number.. made it pretty easy to find.
Besides, how many doors here look like they’re from the 22nd century? Especially here, of all places?
The door opened. Spock was holding a gauze pad to his neck to prevent any further bleeding from the main wounds, but there were certainly other wounds he needed to attend to as well, but hadn't gotten around to it. He was swaying a little to the side, certainly unintentionally. “Captain, is there something you-"
“Christ- Spock, what happened??” He immediately stepped inside, regardless of being allowed in or being invited in- It wasn’t the time for courtesies. He was worried about his friend. About Spock.
He wanted to ask so many questions. Who attacked you? Why were you in the city? Did you see their face? But right now, all he could think of was… “Sit down, here- let me help you.”
Spock moved backwards to sit on the side of his bed, and thankfully, the door closed on its own. It didn't seem like Chris would let him go to close the door himself, not that he was feeling up for standing up again. He was dizzy, lightheaded, all symptoms of moderate blood loss. And yet, he still... “Chris, I assure you, I am fully capable of addressing my own—"
Chris found some blood dripping from his leg. It was from a small tear made most likely by the needle, but had also probably reopened from him escaping. “Spock, you’re still bleeding. Here, let me..” Chris trailed off as he found something to patch up his leg with.
“...Ah.” Was all Spock could say. His voice was quieter now. “...I had not noticed any pain there.”
He sat quietly while Pike patched up his leg, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Another thing he would've blamed on adrenaline, if he had any. But he didn't. It was all Vulcan, his blood, his brain, his ears, his hands-
...He reached out a hand - cautiously, nervously - to Pike. "..I am.. sorry. For causing you panic. I did not mean for you to experience such on my behalf." Why did he leave the hospital so quickly? Was it panic? Fear? Pattern recognition? He couldn't say.
Chris looked up at him and smiled. He smiled. "Hey, that's what I'm here for, isn't it? To stop you from getting yourself killed," he joked, and took his hand. He was surprised he even offered, actually. But it was a welcome surprise. "I know you don't like help, but I'd like to help you. Is that okay?"
He was quiet, for a moment. He could feel.. reassurance, coming from Chris. Even after so many years, he hasn't lost his kindness. It seemed to go on forever. Most would grow tired of it, run out and become apathetic after diplomatic incident and diplomatic incident, but... Somehow, he pushed through. He didn't know what it was that kept him going, but now, he was going for Spock.
And how could you expect Spock to say no to him? To those eyes? To that smile? “...Yes.”