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Jim wakes up.
Before he opens his eyes, he feels the familiar hardness of the bed under him, and inhales the familiar scent of the room around him, and hears the familiar beeps somewhere above him, and he knows he’s in Sickbay, and he’s safe. He opens his eyes and spots the familiar curtains, sees the familiar beds, and he feels the ship humming gently under him and he inhales, exhales.
Then he sits straight up, pinching himself and looking around wildly. This is...this is the Enterprise , for sure, but his Enterprise, his beautiful lady, and he’s--he looks at his hands, slightly wrinkled, and he knows the Enterprise hasn’t looked like this for years. Bones doesn’t run Sickbay anymore, Jim isn’t the Captain, and the headache Jim feels isn’t just a headache--it’s an all-too-familiar pain that Jim had hoped he’d never have to feel again.
Something is very wrong.
Jim is about to enter fight-or-flight mode and try to stand when the curtain beside him softly swishes open and a familiar face steps through. Jim stares.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Bones says, glancing over the top of his PADD, and this is unmistakably, 100% Bones, but it is also a Bones that is a good thirty years younger than he ought to be. In fact, Jim is pretty sure Bones was never this young while on the Enterprise, even in the earliest years of their first five-year mission.
“...Bones?” Jim croaks, unsure of what else to say. He’d be worried that he’s going insane, but the pain in his head says otherwise. Or maybe the pain is causing him to hallucinate.
Bones lowers his PADD and looks at him seriously. He’s not yelling, or grumping, which makes Jim’s stomach twist nervously.
“Alright, Jim,” Bones says. “Since you seem to recognize me, I guess the captain’s idea was a good one. I don’t know why he thought to throw me under the bus, but I guess I’m the best person to break the news.”
“The captain?” Jim asks, more sure than ever that something is not right. He remembers a bearded Spock and shivers.
“Yeah,” Bones says. “So, uh, you might wanna sit down for this.”
Jim looks down at the bed he’s still sitting in, then back at Bones, who huffs out a laugh.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “So in 2387, Romulus’s sun threatened to go supernova. An ambassador to Romulus decided to inject red matter into the sun and make a black hole to consume the sun instead of destroying the planet. But it didn’t work, and the planet was consumed. The ambassador made the black hole anyway to consume the supernova and stop any other planets from getting destroyed, but before he could escape, a Romulan mining ship appeared and intercepted the ambassador, sending both into the black hole. The mining ship--the Narada--got spit out in 2233 and was faced with the Kelvin, which was then destroyed. The ambassador got spit out in 2258, and then the Narada destroyed Vulcan in front of him as revenge--the ambassador was a Vulcan. The, uh, Enterprise stopped the Narada.”
“Interesting,” Jim says after a long minute. “So the timelines were diverged? I assume the Kelvin’s destruction changed things--we’re obviously in a different universe than mine, as I’m still here and don’t remember any of that.”
“Right,” Bones says.
“So how did I get here? What year is it now? Obviously not 2293,” Jim says.
“No,” Bones says. “It’s 2261.”
Jim stares at him for a long minute.
“In my timeline,” he says. “I didn’t become captain of the Enterprise until 2265. But you didn’t serve under Pike, and obviously someone told you that I would want to see you first. And, again--how did I get here? I’m pretty sure I didn’t go through a black hole.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Bones says. “They don’t tell me the science stuff, you know? You and Spock were blabbing on and on but I ain’t that good at astrophysics or whatever the hell it was to get you out of the Nexus. And you’re captain, by the way--the Narada incident was my Jim’s first time captaining. You--Jim thought it’d be less of a shock to meet me first instead of him or Spock.”
“Oh,” Jim says, and he blinks, looks at his lap. “Wait, did you say Vulcan was destroyed?”
“Yeah,” Bones says, wincing. “It wasn’t, uh, good.”
“God,” Jim says, tilting his head back and taking a deep breath.
“You’re taking this remarkably well,” Bones says, and it sounds accusing.
“Kid,” Jim says, reveling in the word--to be older than Bones!--”When you’ve been in Starfleet as long as I have, you’ve seen some weird shit. I need time to--to process, but for now--I’ve learned to take things in stride.”
“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Bones says, rolling his eyes, Jim grins at him, and says, “Can I meet the mini-me?” He winces, does the math. “Wait, the Kelvin was destroyed in 2233? That’s…”
“Yeah,” Bones says grimly. “In a shocking twist of fate, you chose the absolute most dramatic moment to be born, and your dad lived long enough to name you, then go down in a blaze of glory. It’s given you a bit of a complex, to be honest.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” Jim says. Bones grins, then gets out his communicator, flips it open.
“He’s awake ‘n asking for you,” he says. There are vague sounds from the other side of the communicator, and Bones rolls his eyes, flips it closed, and then the medbay doors open with a woosh and Jim watches himself stride into the Sickbay. He takes stock--thinner, more broad in the shoulders, obviously younger, but mostly the same.
“Admiral,” Kirk says, stopping a few feet away from the biobed.
“Captain,” Jim says wryly. For a moment they stare at each other, and then Jim says, “So while Bones’s explanation was lovely and shockingly free of obscenities, that doesn’t explain how you even knew I was in the Nexus, or how I’m an admiral.”
“Well,” Kirk says. “The ambassador was very--well, not forthcoming, but he mentioned you once or twice.”
“A Vulcan ambassador?” Jim says, wondering. “Was it Sarek--no, in 2387 Sarek shouldn’t’ve been alive.”
“No, not Sarek,” Kirk says. “It’s--it’s someone else. Anyway, yeah, he mentioned you and then we were kind of looking into the Nexus, and Spock and Scotty were mostly the ones who figured it out, but we found some weird readings and we were able to get you out. And now we’re here.”
“On the Enterprise again,” Jim murmurs. “With myself as captain, four years before I ever became captain in my own time. With everyone the same, unless...Sulu, Uhura, Chekov?”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” Kirk says.
“But they’re young,” Jim says. “They don’t know me, they know you, a me who grew up without a father, who hopefully stayed on Iowa his whole life, who got to be captain at age 25.”
“I didn’t stay in Iowa,” Kirk says. “Sadly.”
Jim looks at him for a long moment. “Did they catch him?” he asks quietly. Kirk shakes his head. “Sometime later, look up Anton Karidian. But not too much later.”
Kirk exhales and nods. Jim realizes suddenly that Bones has slinked off to who-knows-where sometime during their conversation.
“I’m sorry,” Kirk says after a minute. “I know it sucks to show up in another universe all of a sudden, and everything’s almost right but also you’re all out of place.”
“Is there a way for me to get back?” Jim asks, knowing that if there is he will stop at nothing to return, and knowing that if there isn’t he will probably try anyway.
“Not that I know of,” Kirk says, shrugging. “And I wouldn’t even know where to start looking--we’re fresh out of red matter, and I have to assume there’s more than one alternate timeline that could spring up even if you tried to emulate the ambassador.”
“I see,” Jim says. “Then I will have to find something else to occupy my time.”
“Like what?” Jim knows that when he was first the captain of a starship, he couldn’t imagine being anything else. He still can’t, some days, but Starfleet doesn’t need two James Kirks, and Jim refuses to do it without his crew, anyway.
“I’ll probably go to wherever the Vulcans are,” Jim says, leaning back on his pillow. He stares at the ceiling. “They’ll need--I’m sure they need all the help they can get.” He turns to look at his younger counterpart, who’s looking at him with a strange sort of smile.
“We’re headed to New Vulcan, actually,” he says. “Maybe we’ll drop you there.”
Jim smiles at him, wondering why Kirk is looking at him funny, and then the door swishes open and Jim’s heart clenches, twisting. His head throbs, and Spock slides up to Kirk’s side, settling on his right, flanking him. Where he should be, Jim thinks.
“Captain,” Spock says. “Lieutenant Uhura insisted I ‘make an appearance’ at Sickbay. She believed it would be beneficial for the admiral’s health.” He turns slightly, and Jim is not really prepared for the full force of that gaze.
“Commander,” he says, remembering how to breathe. “I see you are, as ever, by my side.”
Kirk flinches ever-so-slightly. Spock’s face does not move.
“Indeed,” he says. “You do not seem to be in significant distress.”
“I’m sure it’ll settle in,” Jim says, giving his best and most charming grin, the one he uses to make Spocks everywhere weak in the knees, although this one is very good at not showing it. “It’s not everyday you wake up in a different universe.”
“It is good to know that your tendency to state the obvious seems to be consistent across universes,” Spock says dryly.
“I do my best,” Jim says. He turns back to Kirk. “So why are you headed to New Vulcan, anyway?”
“We needed to drop something off,” Kirk says. Spock looks at him disapprovingly. Kirk ignores him. “And Bones is an expert at bringing me back to life, so I’m sure he’ll scrounge up some papers and get you legal documentation before we get there.”
“Oh, right,” Jim says. “Of course.” He pauses, wonders if there’s a specific instance in which Bones has brought this Kirk back to life already, decides he doesn’t need to know and chalks it up to the general ability Bones has to cure a rainy day.
The younger crew is obviously in their five-year mission. Jim longs to ask what they’ve done--have they met the Empath? Did they meet Edith? Have they had any run-ins with tribbles yet, or Klingons? In Jim’s universe, the Babel Conference was in 2267--in this one was it earlier? Kirk knew who Sarek was, but it seems he was also there when Vulcan was destroyed, so perhaps he met him then. Or perhaps Sarek was destroyed with Vulcan. Speaking of which--
“Commander,” Jim says. “I heard about Vulcan, and--S'ti th'laktra.” Jim can’t imagine what kind of loss Spock must’ve gone through--Sarek might’ve been off-world, but people like Amanda, or T’Pau, or even T’Pring--they could very well be lost. A whole planet destroyed makes being stranded in an alternate universe seem like small potatoes. At least Jim knows his family and friends lived long, good lives. At least he still has them, even if they don’t know this version of him.
Spock inclines his head. Jim can hear how the following conversation should play out, beat by beat--”I thank you”/“I thought thanks were illogical?”/“Following human manners is not illogical, Jim, it is, in fact, polite”/“Oh, I see--” but Spock doesn’t thank him.
“I was not aware you spoke Vulcan,” Spock says instead. “Although, of course, you are different from your counterpart.”
“Nash-veh stariben ein Vuhlkansu,” Kirk says, scowling, and Spock blinks--an indication of utmost surprise, in the early days when emotion was still bad. Jim snorts.
“Fascinating,” Spock says. “I did not know.”
“You never asked,” Kirk says, crossing his arms. Jim thinks that if this Kirk is anything like him, learning the Vulcan language from a combination of lessons from Hoshi Sato on Tarsus and because he wanted to feel closer to Spock, then perhaps the younger version wouldn’t have told Spock that he knew Vulcan even if he had asked.
“I see,” Spock says, raising an eyebrow. Jim’s heart hurts, and the whistle chimes.
“Bridge to Commander Spock,” the familiar voice of Uhura says, and Spock walks to the wall to address her.
“I am here, Lieutanant,” he says.
“There’s an anomaly being reported from the science station and they think you’d be interested,” Uhura says.
“Of course. I will be up shortly. Spock out,” he says, then he turns to nod at the pair of Jims before turning sharply on his heel and striding out. Jim watches Kirk watch him go.
“Oh, kid,” he sighs. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
“What are you talking about?” Kirk asks. Jim sits up fully, swings his legs over the side of the biobed. He’s sure that if he was actually injured Bones would’ve grumped at him, so he stands up and puts a hand on Kirk’s shoulder.
“You’re in love with him,” he says.
“I know that,” Kirk scowls, picking up Jim’s hand and removing it from his shoulder. “ And I know that in your universe Spock was gay, but this Spock is heterosexual.”
“Spock is...what?” Jim asks, startled.
“Making goo-goo eyes at Uhura every second of every day,” Kirk says, rolling his eyes. “They like to kiss on the transporter pads before missions and hold hands at lunch as if we don’t all know what that means, and I keep bumping into Uhura in the bathroom in the dead of night, which is so awkard, especially since I think she still hates me.”
Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there, Jim thinks, wondering when Nyota ever hated him, trying and failing to imagine Nyota and Spock even entertaining romantic thoughts for each other. Spock had told him, more than once, that Nyota reminded him of Michael and had been a comfort to him in times when he missed his sister.
“That’s...interesting,” Jim says after a long, awkward moment. Kirk sighs, frustrated, and drops his face into his hands.
“Yeah,” he says, voice muffled. “I’m really glad they’re happy, but it kinda sucks.”
“I’ve never seen a universe where we weren’t together,” Jim says quietly, thinking of Edith-- at his side, as if you’ve always been there, and always will --and Kirk groans into his palms before he lifts his head, smiling weakly.
“I’m gonna go ask Bones if I can escort you to the guest quarters,” Kirk says. “And then I’d better return to the bridge.”
“Of course,” Jim says, and then he attempts a smile. “Of course, I’m sure I can find my way around.”
“Right,” Kirk says, and then he ducks out. He returns with Bones, who fusses over Jim before letting him go, and then Kirk walks him to the guest quarters. “And you’re okay?” he says. “Coping?”
“I’m sure I will be fine,” Jim says. “Go on to the bridge, I’m sure they need you up there. Tell Nyota and Pavel and Hikaru I say hi.”
“Sure,” Kirk says, and then he’s gone, and Jim is left alone in a room he’s been in countless times but never actually slept in before. He looks around and remembers Babel and Karidian and that time his mother came on board the ship, and when Spock’s room got infested with Aluvian Bed Snakes and Jim had come to play chess with him. He remembers how out of place Spock seemed in the guest quarters, without his curtains and Vulcan decor, and he sits heavily on the bed.
“Oh, Spock,” he says, and he prods at the gaping wound the bond has left in his head, bleeding and yearning, and winces, closes his eyes. He breathes deep--he’s okay at meditation, borne from years of practice, but it’s hard when your head is exploding from the inside out.
Eventually, his heart stops racing, and he’s able to concentrate enough to put on sloppy bandages over the wound, sealing it and puting a gate around the pain to keep it in one place. Hopefully that will hold until he can ask the healers in New Vulcan to weave in the ends of his thoughts, to patch it over as best as possible.
Because Jim is alone, now, alone in a universe that is not his own, and he is sure he’ll befriend some Vulcans, is sure he will seek out answers, seek out a way to get home, but he is equally sure he won’t find anything. He doesn’t even have the bond anymore--how is he to tear his way back to his husband without anything anchoring them, without anything tying them together?
“Spock,” Jim says again. “Oh, I grieve with thee, my love.” Spock has never had to live with a broken bond before--Jim hopes he can weather the pain, can move on and find someone new, live out the entirety of his Vulcan years--he has about a hundred more of them, and when Jim imagines Spock dying in the agony of the flames of pon farr, a mere two years after Jim’s own apparent death…
Jim pushes the thought aside.
“Computer,” he says. “Tell me about New Vulcan.”
“New Vulcan is a planet discovered by Ambassador Selek of Vulcan that was originally known as Ioa II. After the destruction of Vulcan in 2258, the remainder of the Vulcan population relocated there to rebuild and restore their race to it’s former glory. Reconstruction efforts…”
Jim lays back on the bed and lets the words wash over him and lull him to sleep.
----
He wakes up to a chime at his door, and he stands up, joints stiff and creaking, and goes to answer it, shutting off the still-talking computer as he goes.
The door slides open to reveal Spock, who stands in a stiff parade rest.
“Come in,” Jim says, and Spock steps in. He doesn’t relax once the door shuts behind him.
“Admiral,” he says. “It has occurred to me that you were bonded before your ordeal and the bond has probably broken. I came to offer my aid in easing the pain.”
“I think I’ll be okay until we reach New Vulcan,” Jim says. “I’ve dealt with the pain before, I can do it for a few more days.”
“We are set to arrive at New Vulcan tomorrow,” Spock reports, and then he raises an eyebrow. “You have had a broken bond before?”
“Yes, when my husband died,” Jim says. “It was...not a very pleasant few months.”
“I see,” Spock says, although Jim can see that he does not. “Still, I offer my assistance regardless. It is illogical to suffer when aid is offered to you.”
“I’m going to tell Bones you said that,” Jim says, smiling, and Spock’s eyes flash, offended. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to meld, Commander.”
“You doubt my abilities?”
“Your brain is the same brain I was just bonded to,” Jim says flatly, and Spock’s eyes widen in understanding.
“Ah,” he says. “Yes, you are correct. I apologize.”
“It’s okay,” Jim says. “I appreciate the offer.”
Spock hesitates, and then says, “My captain made a decision that I do not agree with, but I believe I should tell you regardless that there is...hope. New Vulcan is the correct place for you to go.”
“Very cryptic, Mister Spock,” Jim says, then he realizes that this is the first time he has addressed this young, apparently-straight version of his husband by his own name, and he blinks back some stray tears. “I would ask you to elaborate, but I know you won’t.”
“Correct, Admiral,” Spock says. “I should return to the bridge.”
“Wait,” Jim says. “Sometime before we arrive at New Vulcan, would you indulge an old man and play a game of chess with me?”
Spock inclines his head. “Of course, Admiral.”
He turns and leaves, and the bond aches.
Shut up, Jim tells it sourly.
----
Jim draws out the game on purpose, taking his time between each move and savoring the furrow between Spock’s eyebrow every time he makes a particularly illogical move. If this is the last time Jim will ever play chess with Spock, even if it’s not his own Spock, he wants it to last.
(He remembers the last chess game he played with his husband--they left it incomplete and had decided to come back to it later, and Jim can’t help but picture that unfinished chess game and feel pain, hot and sharp.)
Finally he can’t beat around the bush any longer and he checkmates Spock, who accepts defeat with grace. Kirk, who has been watching the game with wide eyes, nudges Spock out of his seat and says, “Alright, deal me in.”
Jim laughs and resets the board. As they play, the rest of the crew gathers, inching closer and closer to the board. Jim can admit it’s an interesting game--Kirk plays wildly, and Jim matches for the hell of it. He’s probably better at chess, he thinks, just from the extra years of experience, but playing himself is surreal.
Spock takes the seat between them that Kirk had previously occupied, and Nyota stands over him, a hand lightly resting on his shoulder. Sulu and Chekov share a table dragged up on the other side, and Bones is sitting behind Kirk. Jim counts Scotty, Riley, Giotto, Zarha, Chase, Henderhorff, Chapel, Rand, and even Carol Marcus among the people who pop by the rec room to watch for a few seconds to see how the game is going. He hides his smile at every person he recognizes and tries not to be surprised at the people he doesn’t. It’s so strange, sitting here surrounded by his family but not his family.
Uhura nudges Spock, who scoots over in his chair, and she squeezes in beside him. Jim looks away, glad she didn’t sit on his lap or something, and moves his bishop.
The game ends after something like three hours of teasing each other, when Jim executes one of his favorite traps--personally developed around year three of the second five year mission. Kirk laughs as he accepts defeat, and then stands to shake his hand, still laughing. Most of the crew has retired already, and Jim lets Kirk put the board away, watching Spock and Uhura leave together, standing just too close to each other.
“You okay?” Bones asks.
“I’m fine,” Jim says, shaking his head and looking away. “It’s just--it’s strange, that’s all.”
“Yeah,” Bones says. “I can’t even imagine.”
“I’ll get used to it,” Jim says. “All I want is for him to be happy, and if that’s with Uhura then that’s great.”
“Sure,” Bones says. “But then you remember…”
Together, they turn and look at Kirk, who is fastidiously resetting the board.
“Yeah,” Jim says. He remembers Leila, and T’Pring, and can’t imagine how seeing that every day would feel.
Kirk finishes with the chess set and walks back over to them; Bones claps him on the shoulder and wishes the pair of them goodnight before excusing himself, meeting Carol by the door and walking off with her. Kirk looks pained.
“You okay?” Jim asks.
“Yeah,” Kirk says. “Carol’s, uh, having another ultrasound.”
“I see,” Jim says neutrally, and he and Kirk set off from the rec room.
“Yeah, we’re dropping her off on New Vulcan too,” Kirk says. “She decided to quit Starfleet to raise the kid. I don’t blame her, and I said I would too--I would!” He raises his hands defensively at Jim’s look. “I told her I would live next door and be a stay-at-home dad, maybe teach at the Academy, and she said that would be terrible for me, and then she said she appreciated me trying but please don’t go with her to the appointments and stuff.”
“Ah,” Jim says. “She didn’t even tell me she was pregnant until David was born.”
“David?” Kirk says, looking at him with wide eyes. “Do you think she’ll still name him that?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Jim says, and they stop outside a turbolift. Kirk presses the button to call it. Jim places his guesses as to where they’re headed. “But I will say that I didn’t know my Spock until long after Carol and I had separated.”
“Yeah, well,” Kirk says, looking at his shoes. “I thought maybe I would get over him, but it didn’t really work. I did love her though, I swear. It’s just...it’s hard.”
“I know,” Jim says, and he reaches out to pat Kirk’s shoulder, but then the turbolift arrives and he withdraws his hand. They step inside and Kirk directs it.
There are things here that don’t add up, Jim knows. The mysterious ambassador from his own timeline, the uncanny knowledge of the other universe and even of the Nexus, the fact that somehow the timelines seemed to converge around him, Spock’s vague allusions to some sort of purpose for him to be found on New Vulcan. Jim wonders if it has to do with the ambassador, if he knew this person in the other timeline.
But Jim knows not to ask, so when they step out onto the observation deck, he asks Kirk about his life instead, making him retell it all. The stepfather, the car and the cliff, Sam’s absence, Tarsus IV, Chris Pike’s dare, the Academy, the Narada incident. Khan. Jim’s heart stutters, climbing up his throat.
“Did...what happened?” he croaks. The broken bond roars.
“The warp core got out of alignment,” Kirk says, smiling apologetically. “And so I went in.”
“No,” Jim says.
“Yes,” Kirk says. “I made it all the way back to the door, just in time for Spock to show up.”
“Oh,” Jim says. “Oh, no.”
It’s fitting, somehow, that in this universe it was flipped, that the warp core must split a Jim and a Spock from each other. Jim closes his eyes and wonders what Spock felt, watching his captain die. He doesn’t have to wonder what Kirk felt, dying in place of others, seeing Spock on the other side of the glass.
“I was gonna tell him,” Kirk says. “But I didn’t get a chance to say it, before…” He lifts his hand in a ta’al, miming pressing it against something, and Jim thinks about crying.
“It’s a Vulcan kiss, you know,” he says, and Kirk turns, startled. “Two ta’als pressed together.” Jim mimes the action with his hands. “Even if there’s glass between it.”
“I didn’t know that,” Kirk says, looking like he’s been hit. “I did not know that. Spock never said anything! Why wouldn’t he say anything?”
“Ask him?” Jim says, shrugging, wondering if this Spock is as straight as Kirk thinks he is. “How’d you come back?”
Kirk explains the formula, and Bones’s miracle-working, and Jim smiles.
“Hope he didn’t get a big head from the experience,” he teases.
“Oh, he’s insufferable now,” Kirk says fondly. “But don’t think I didn’t notice your reaction when I said I went into the warp core. Did that…?”
“It did,” Jim says. “But not quite the same way.” Jim mimics Kirk’s earlier gesture, pressing a ta’al against imaginary glass. “My husband died in front of me and I couldn’t even touch him.”
“Oh,” Kirk says, his voice catching. “Oh, no.”
“It’s fine,” Jim says. “He came back. I had plenty of absolutely wonderful years with him. The few months he was dead are barely a blip on my radar.”
He’s lying, of course he is, but Kirk either doesn’t notice or lets him have his lie.
“Speaking of wonderful years,” he says, turning away from the stars glittering out the window, crossing his arms against his chest. “Tell me about Dad.”
Jim turns to face him, relieved, and only too willing to talk about something else.
-----
He wakes up early the next morning after a fitful night of sleep, only possible due to the Enterprise’s hum beneath him, and after getting dressed in replicated clothes, heads down to Engineering. Scotty and a small Roylan are working, Scotty yelling and the Roylan ignoring him, and Jim smiles and moves farther into the heart of the ship. He skips the warp core but goes down to the place where he can feel the ship rumble and move the best, and lets it soak into his bones, settle in his heart.
“It’s been a good run, old girl,” he whispers, forehead resting on the bulkhead. Yes, this isn’t his Enterprise, but it’ll have to do. He runs his fingers along her, and then after a long moment or perhaps hour, he excuses himself to the mess hall.
He sits alone, but has barely tucked into his strawberries before Uhura sits down across from him.
“Good morning,” she says. He nods, mouth full of berries, and she barrels on. “I just wanted to..to apologize, I guess. I know you and him were married in your universe, and I feel really weird about the whole thing. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t,” Jim says. “And you don’t have to apologize; I just want him to be happy. Besides, he’s not my Spock, and this isn’t my timeline. Things are different here.”
“I suppose,” Uhura says. She takes a bite of her oatmeal.
“For example, in my time you wore your hair differently,” Jim offers. She looks at him, startled. “You wore this...sort of bouffant, thing, or wore it in a short afro. I never saw it long like that. It looks good.”
“Thank you,” Uhura says, looking kind of pleased and startled, and Jim remembers that Kirk had said Uhura didn’t like him much. From the tale Kirk had told last night, Jim doesn’t really blame her. He and Kirk are very different, but also very similar at their cores, and Jim isn’t sure how to convey that, so he just eats his breakfast in relative silence instead, asking Uhura about her recent communications work and listening to her babble about it.
He smiles into his strawberries. He’d always liked listening to his crew talk about their jobs.
Sulu gives Uhura a call and tells them they’re pulling up to New Vulcan; Uhura and Jim clear their trays and head for the door.
“Do you need me to take you to the transporter room?” Uhura asks.
“I think I can figure it out,” Jim says, smiling, and Uhura nods and leaves. Jim thinks that if anyone from this Enterprise sends him messages, keeps in touch, it’ll be her.
He lets his feet walk him to the transporter room without really thinking about where he’s going. He nods at crewmembers he passes by, takes notes of the ones he recognizes from his timeline.
He arrives at the transporter room and steps up to Kirk, Spock, Bones, and Carol.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asks; Kirk and Carol shake their heads and Bones nods. Spock straightens.
“I do not require sustenance at this time,” he says.
“Oh, I’m sure,” Jim says, and he produces four breakfast bars and hands them out anyway.
“How’d you know my favorite?” Carol asks suspiciously, and Jim says, “On the list of things I remember about people I’ve loved, favorite foods is at least in the top three.” She blinks at him and he steps up onto the transporter pad serenely, sliding his hands behind his back to stand at attention.
The others follow suit, and Kirk nods at Scotty.
“Energize,” he says, and Jim closes his eyes as the familiar sensation of dissolving overtakes him.
When he reforms, he notices first the heat, and then that the pain in his head seems to have tripled. He winces, touching his temples, and then there’s the sting of a hypo, and he turns to glare at Bones.
“My god, he makes the same face!” Bones says.
“What was that for?” Jim asks.
“Just a pain reliever,” Bones says. “And a tri-ox compound. I gave Jimmy his already.”
“And it was needlessly violent,” Kirk says, and then he leans into Bones’s space. “Are you sure you’ve taken the Hippocratic Oath?”
“I’ll Hippocratic your ass,” Bones mutters, and Jim finally takes in his surroundings. They’re outside, in a fairly bustling area, filled with passing Vulcans, and a few of other specieses--Jim sees Andorians, Orions, Humans, maybe a Tellerite.
Spock leads Carol to a pair of what Jim recognizes as VSA members across the way and Kirk leads Jim and Bones to the side. He side-eyes Jim with a sly grin, and he instantly grows suspicious at the way Kirk’s eyes begin to scan the crowd.
“Say,” Jim says, turning to Bones. “Weren’t we supposed to be dropping something off? I didn’t see any cargo, and I didn’t think you meant Carol.”
“Yeah, well, you see, Jim doesn’t want me to tell you,” Bones says. “But I feel like I gotta, as your doctor, so you don’t die of the shock. The ambassador’s supposed to meet us here, and he’s--”
“Jim,” a voice calls from somewhere behind him. A heart-breakingly, tear-jerkingly familiar voice. Jim freezes, and turns. He sees Kirk waving wildly, manic grin on his face. He turns more, and then sees an elderly Vulcan dressed in robes, the crowd parted around him. He’s walking towards them, and his gaze moves from Kirk to Bones, and finally to Jim, and he stops, but Jim is already running towards him.
“ Captain,” Spock breathes, and Jim throws his arms around his husband, buries his face in the place between neck and shoulder. He doesn’t care that they’re in public, and evidently neither does Spock, as his arms go around him and Spock holds him, tight, his head lowering to rest against Jim’s. Jim’s brain feels like it’s about to explode, the bond buzzing, begging to break free, and Jim inhales. Spock smells the same.
“So you’re the legendary ambassador, huh?” Jim asks, finally breaking away, and he meets Spock’s beautiful, familiar gaze.
“Yes,” Spock breathes. “T’hy’la, I do not understand.”
“Those little shits pulled me out of the Nexus,” Jim says. “They didn’t even tell me you were here. I thought I was alone.”
“Never,” Spock says.
“I was getting ready to tear the universes in half to get back to you,” Jim says. The space between their lips is so small, Jim can feel Spock’s breath. It is an infinite distance away. He raises his hand to run it through Spock’s hair. “How long has it been?”
“An eternity I would gladly repeat to get even one more day with you,” Spock says, and Jim can’t help but smile softly, wondering how long it was, knowing that Spock didn’t have all this grey hair when he last saw him.
Jim uses the hand in his hair to guide Spock’s head to his shoulder and he tries to hold him without breaking Spock’s hold on him. Spock tightens his arms, shudders against him. Jim remembers they aren’t alone and looks around to see Vulcans pretending they do not see this public emotional display, and then leans down to find Spock’s pointed ear and whisper, “We ought to thank ourselves, don’t you think?”
“I had known them to be most remarkable, but this is...something else,” Spock says, and he pulls away enough that they can turn around and walk back to where the bridge crew waits, but doesn’t release Jim, holding on to his waist with one hand. Jim deliberately steps into his space, tucking their sides together, and he wraps his own arm around Spock’s back and clings to his robe.
“You are crying,” Spock notes, using his free hand to wipe away his tears.
“From joy, Mister Spock,” Jim says, grinning up at him. Spock schools his own smile and then they turn to face the new crew of the Enterprise.
Kirk is grinning widely. Bones looks about twenty seconds from crying. Commander Spock has rejoined them, and he looks embarrassed.
“My friends, you have returned my k'hat'n'dlawa to me,” Spock says. “I do not know how to thank you.”
“No problem,” Kirk says. “I figured--well. I wanted Spock to be happy. So don’t lose him again. Keep him close. That’s all I want.”
Jim and Kirk make eye contact and something passes between them; an understanding. Jim nods and Kirk slings his arm around Bones’s shoulder.
“Get off of me, you infant,” Bones grumbles, and Kirk laughs.
“So the thing you wanted to drop off on New Vulcan…”
“...Was you,” Kirk finishes, still laughing. “We figured your husband would want you back.”
“Indeed,” Spock says, tightening his grip on Jim’s waist, and suddenly Jim can’t bear the broken bond for another second. He moves his free hand and places it over the one on his waist, reveling in the familiar sparks of telepathy sliding into his mind.
He turns to make eye contact with Spock, who has half-raised the beloved eyebrow.
“Let’s go home,” Jim breathes.
“You were on the Enterprise mere minutes ago,” Spock informs him.
“My home is wherever you are,” Jim says, and Spock offers his free hand, two fingers extended. Jim meets the touch and feels more water escape from his eyes, but he doesn’t particularly care.
“Good luck, have fun, use protection,” Kirk says, and he flips open his communicator. “Scotty!”
“I hope y’all have a fun third marriage,” Bones says, looking vaguely sick.
“Since my customary farewell would appear oddly self-serving, and I do not believe in luck, I will simply wish you both happiness,” Commander Spock says, raising a ta’al, and Jim knows he’s quoting something, probably his own husband, and then the trio is beamed away, vanishing into particles of light.
Jim isn’t really sure how they make it back to Spock’s house, but they do, and the second they’re inside Jim’s mouth is on Spock’s and he’s picking up Spock’s hand and putting it on his face.
“Do it, do it,” he says in the breath between kisses, and Spock’s fingers shift with intent, and suddenly everything is
bright white
and everything is exploding in color and emotion, braiding together and weaving back, the broken bond soothed, settled, eased,
and their minds entertangle and reform, coming back together, and Jim sees one hundred years of pain and loneliness, and the black hole, and the Narada, and Nero, and Spock sees the Nexus and Picard, and he sees the illusion Jim lived around, for minutes or days or years, and
It was a shadow, she’s nothing, Jim says, and Spock says, I know, t’hy’la, ashayam, k'hat'n'dlawa, and
Oh, my love, one of them thinks, feeling the other wrap around him, knowing they have the same amount of time to live
(the rest of their lives)
parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched, and
and when they break apart, slipping back into their own minds, they are still kissing. Jim notes that Spock is crying, and he lifts his hand to brush the tears away.
They are on the couch and Jim isn’t quite sure how they got there, Jim mostly on top of Spock, and when he goes to move Spock’s arms tighten around him, holding him in place.
I do not want you to stop touching me, Spock thinks.
I do not want to stop touching you either, Jim responds. Oh, my t’hy’la.
He kisses him again, and again, and again, and he remembers the chess game they’d left unfinished, years and eons ago.
They can finish it now, he thinks giddily.
We can start a new game, Spock tells him. We can play so many more. Oh, how lucky I am that you have returned to me!
Why, Mister Spock, Jim thinks, leaning back to look into his beautiful eyes. It’s nothing short of a miracle.