Chapter Text
They walked in tandem, in their not-quite-uniform blacks, down the hall and to the mess. They retrieved their food and sat where Jim had always sat, Bones joining them and grousing loudly as usual. It was their first brave step into the old routine, and while outwardly they were the same Captain and Commander they'd always been, for the first time they truly presented outwardly the vision of a united front, acting as a unit where they'd always seemed at odds. Though they gave no indication that anything was wrong, internally they leaned against one another for mutual mental strength.
Kirk returned greetings from his crew with a friendly nod and a smile. He answered any questions as to their health with assurances that they were both feeling well, that all was taken care of, and to move along now. Spock was grateful that Jim had taken the lead in this endeavour, and was relieved that no one cornered him specifically for answers. He met crew members with his own stoic nods as usual, as they escaped to their table.
Bones updated them on the general status of events while they were gone and berated them soundly for catching up on their emails, which he had noticed, but had chosen not to act on. Jim was grateful to his friend as he filled the strained silences with sickbay drama, voiced annoyance about every Vulcan he'd encountered at the colony, and gave general threats involving physicals and hypos. And to their credit, both Jim and Spock were able to keep up their own end of the banter, as if nothing had happened.
Out of the corner of his eye, Spock caught sight of Uhura first, before Jim or Bones had noticed her. She cautiously made her way toward their table, her expression unreadable. Only the bond alerted Jim to her approach, his attention dropping away from Bones and his eyes sliding to her steady approach as he sent wordless support to his bondmate.
There they were. Uhura had watched them from the entrance to the mess for a good minute or two now, just watching them sit and interact. She'd heard through the grapevine that they'd been spotted earlier that day, and she had surmised that the pon farr was finally at an end. She'd known right away that she'd wanted to see them, but she hadn't been certain what she'd wanted to see. She already knew through McCoy that they weren't injured in any substantial way. Had she wanted them to be injured? No, she answered herself immediately when she asked herself the question. She couldn't reconcile why her own experience had been so vastly different, so wholly negative and violent. It would be some time before her trust of Spock was mended, she knew. But that would come in time.
No, she didn't wish them ill. She just wanted to know, to see. She needed to see them in front of her, to see them as themselves, to see them interact with one another, for her to try and make sense of what had happened. To make it real. To make it so that this wasn't some strange dream she was unable to discuss with anyone, her bridge shifts haunted and tense as both Captain and Commander were missing due to a mysterious affliction. And now, here they were.
It was funny, she supposed. She hadn't thought that Spock had even liked Jim before now. But as she watched them from across the room, she saw their easy camaraderie, even through Spock's stoic shell. She knew him well and she wasn't blind. She saw the syncopation of their movements, the quirked eyebrow Spock gave when he was secretly amused at something Jim had said. She saw the slightly lesser degree of tension in his stiff posture -- something so subtle that she was certain no one other than herself would detect it. But she knew that it meant Spock was at ease. Seeing him content, and content without her... released a tight ball of tension she'd been carrying in her gut for weeks. She was startled to realize it was so. In spite of her guilt, her anger, her fears and frustrations over this whole event, Spock was okay. Truly okay.
She'd wanted to save him, both as a friend and as a compassionate being. But here he was not only alive, but well. Even when she'd known that Kirk had taken her place to save his life, she'd worried. She'd worried that she'd abandoned what they'd had in some way. That she'd really screwed this one up by getting herself out of there. She'd wondered if the problem had been something she'd done, and wondered whether Spock would ever forgive her for leaving him to bond himself permanently to another. To someone she didn't even know if he liked.
And now she knew that Spock did like Jim. She didn't know why or how. She didn't care. His easy affect was answer enough. And if Spock could be truly okay after this ordeal, so could Nyota. For the first time in weeks, she really was okay. She realized in that moment that she was a free woman, free of tethers, free of past drama, free of life or death decisions to be made too soon. She was in her twenties, on the best starship Starfleet had to offer, with her career bursting with potential and promise. So she strode to their table, for this one last closure.
“Spock. Captain.” she acknowledged them.
“Lieutenant.” Spock answered stiffly, the tension in his shoulders returned, as he tried to prevent Jim from experiencing a sympathetic headache.
Uhura took a deep breath and released it, dispelling some of the growing tension. “I'm glad to see you're well.” she said, looking at Spock, then shifting her attention to encompass Jim as well. “Both of you.”
Spock's eyes softened. “I am gratified for your health as well, Uhura.” For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say more. He felt as if he should. He felt as if he should explain to her how he'd never wanted anything bad to happen. He wanted to explain what it was like to be stripped of all logic, of his own confused and patchy memory of the event. But in the awkwardness of the public moment, words failed him, and she seemed to understand, gracing him with a nod.
Jim himself kept silent, just grateful that Uhura wasn't going to try to kill either of them. He let out a tense breath in a loud woosh, and Bones broke the silence with his characteristic ire. “Well don't just stand there lollygagging! Have a seat! There's room for all of us.” He slid down to make a space that she gratefully took, and the conversation resumed to more normal topics.
For his own part, Jim was reassured seeing his crew members before him. He'd been terrified when he'd made the decision to go into that room. Not because of any fear he had of Spock. That was something he'd been fully confident about his ability to handle. No, he was afraid for what this might do to the command team. As much as they were different people, they'd been to hell and back together, and he knew in his gut that they were the best. He had no desire to estrange them due to awkwardness created by this event, and had been worried that Uhura especially might desire a transfer. Now she was sitting at his table and actually laughing at one of Bones' jokes, and he knew all was going to be fine.