Spock says they are being watched and Jim suggests they split up and Spock asks if that’s a good idea, but Jim wants too, so Spock lingers around in the background watching Jim until he goes out of view before Spock leaves himself.
It's Thanksgiving on Earth and the crew of U.S.S. Enterprise gather together to celebrate. However, not everyone is thrilled with Kirk's demand of deep-frying the turkey. Someone better take charge before things get out of hand.
Jim and Spock are happily married. Except Jim can't quite remember where he is at the moment, or what he was doing, but maybe if he just waits a moment it'll come back to him...
This is a companion piece to In the Morning which was part of the Old Married Spirk Challenge last month and the second in the series of All Day Long. Spock returns from a month long conference off planet and reflects on his fears about Jim aging. It can be read as a stand alone. Generations never, ever, happened. This takes place after the Final Frontier. Jim and Spock are probably in their 70s or 80s.
Could I request a super fluffy sick Jim refusing to leave the bridge with Spock desperately trying to get him back to his quarters because he needs to rest and get better? Pretty please?
A broken exhale forced its way out of Jim’s lips as hetightly gripped the armrests of his chair. He swallowed hard and pushed hisrigid spine against the seatback, focusingintently on the main viewscreen; there was nothing unusual out there—nothingbut darkness flecked with dim points of starlight. For once, space was the lastthing on his mind.
‘Focus,’ Jim toldhimself. ‘Keep it together.’
Around him, the bridge crew busied themselves with theirindividual tasks, sometimes making small talk with each other to fill in forthe recent lack of action; the Enterprise was en route to its next survey locationand the last several days had been more than a little monotonous. Fortunatelyfor Jim, that meant there’d been nothing of significance for anyone to report duringthis shift.
No one had approached him within the last half hour whilehis condition deteriorated, and Jim believed his mounting suffering had goneunnoticed. It was the only hint of comfort he could find now, acknowledging thatin the very least, his fitness for command wasn’t up for debate.
His breaths fell short and silent, his knuckles turningwhite hot from the force with which his hands clenched. The artificial lightingwas too bright, the frequent chimes and feedback from equipment somehow amplifyingin volume and making his stomach turn. Jim’s brow tensed and his toes curled inhis boots.
“Oh, Pavel!” Sulu said suddenly. “I’ve been meaning to tellyou…”
Those words were tangible; Jim could feel each one needlingat his head and boring into his skull. His eyes involuntarily snapped shut andhe squeezed them tightly, and then even tighter. If only he’d done somethingwhen the symptoms first emerged…if only he hadn’t been so needlessly stubbornto remain here reviewing reports on his PADD, as if the outcome would be anydifferent this time…
After all of the migraines Jim had endured over his life, itwas obvious that this one wouldn’t just go away without some kind of treatment.But as usual, he’d hoped the pain would simply dissipate or at least lessenwhile perusing the latest engineering efficiency statistics.
The PADD he’d used to do that presently rested on his lap,and had gone untouched for several minutes. When would he ever learn?
Chekov’s laugh was by no means loud or obnoxious, but it wasthat sound which finally made the situation unbearable. Jim opened his eyes,inhaled and exhaled rapidly several times, and then braced himself as he intendedto shove his body out of his chair and make a prompt exit from the bridge. Hestopped right when he slid to the edge of the seat, however, finding Spock wasdescending the front stairs.
Gathering every bit of strength within him, Jim held his breath andthen put on his best professional face while his first officer silentlyapproached.
When he arrived at Jim’s side, Spock didn’t look at him. Hishands folded behind his back as he turned to face the main viewer, and then heslightly leaned in. “Captain.” Spock’s words were barely audible. With hisattention still on the screen, he continued, “May I speak with you privately?”
“Yes,” Jim breathed and hauled himself up. The excruciatingpressure in his head was more apparent than the weight of the PADD on his lap,and as he clumsily got on his feet, the forgotten device fell to the floor witha slap. All eyes temporarily shifted to the center of the bridge.
With dignity to preserve, Jim beat Spock to squatting toretrieve the PADD. The change in position made him dizzy and more nauseous ashis temples throbbed, but he would be damned if he’d compromise his reputation infront of his crew. Jim placed the device on the side console of his chair, thenpushed his chest out and lifted his chin. “Uhura,” he managed in an unaffectedvoice, “take the conn.”
“Aye, Sir.”
With that, Jim swiftly strode up to the lift, waving hishand before the sensor and calling it. Spock followed without a sound andremained perfectly still beside him.
‘Hurry,’ Jimsilently demanded, and then stood with his eyes closed and brow furrowed.
He couldn’t afford to look at Spock right now. Jim knew fromexperience that if their eyes met, the immense pain he was enduring would beobvious; in fact, he was certain it already was apparent and that Spock’sdetection of it had been the reason for his request for private conversation.However, as they were still on the bridge, they both needed to remainunaffected and establishing eye contact would only make that more difficult.
Jim swallowed hard and clenched his hands.
It was no secret that he was tough as hell and just asobstinate; he could keep himself looking and acting fit for duty in front ofanyone—even McCoy. Yet, Jim hadn’t been able to conceal any ailments from Spockafter a certain point in time. He could only assume it came with the territoryof sharing a bed with someone for so long.
The doors finally split and without a moment’s delay, Jimstepped onto the platform. Spock ghosted in beside him while Jim’s hand grippedthe lever. He cleared his throat before commanding, “Deck five.”
It took those doors only three seconds to shut, but those secondscould have been three minutes for all Jim knew. As soon as his privacy wasgranted, he groaned and grabbed his head, squeezed his eyes together and pantedthrough gritted teeth. Through his heaving, Jim heard Spock telling the lift topause its descent and all movement ceased.
“Jim,” Spock whispered.
Cracking one eye open with baited breath, Jim turned towardthe wall and braced himself against it. “Migraine,” he rasped, and then let hishead fall as he finally exhaled.
Jim’s shoulders rose and fell as he gulped air, trying tomake his pain manageable so he could at least make it to his quarters for ahypo. A hand fell on one shoulder and waited for a protest that never came before it gently coaxed Jim’s body to the side. Now facing Spock’s chest, Jim reached out and took a fistful of his blue uniform.
Spock snaked an arm behind Jim and then drew his headunto him. His hand caressed through blond locks gently and though Spock’svoice was soft, Jim could still hear the rumbling of it from within his chest. “Allowme.”
A single nod was all it took for fingertips to fall in placeover Jim’s psi points, and the divine feeling of utter comfort began washing his anguish awayin waves. The hand that had clenched to Spock’s shirt gradually releasedits grasp and Jim’s breathing slowed. He remained with the side of his facepressed against Spock for a few moments, reveling in the utter relief beforehis lashes fluttered open.
The light was no longer harsh, his ears no longer sensitive. His nausea had disappeared, and now that he felt well again, he also felt strange.
Jim had always been the one to look after others and put themfirst, so much that forever assuming the role of the giver had become part ofhis character. It was a curious sensation now to find that role reversed with himself pulled into Spock’sembrace like this. Suddenly uncomfortable with the attention, he gently beganto push back, but found himself held tightly where he was.
“Spock,” Jim said quietly. “Thank you.” He felt a handstroke through his hair one more time before he was released. Neither movedaway, however, as they remained standing with their chests touching.
“You require rest,” Spock said.
Jim shook his head and gazed at where his cheek had just been. “I should go back to the bridge.”
“Jim.” Upon hearing his name, Jim’s eyes raised to findSpock’s regarding him with the look he only received when they were alone. Darkbrows raised as Spock dipped his chin in a nod. “Rest. One hour and twenty-fourminutes remain of this shift. I will handle it.”
The logic was sound; after all, Spock had only shielded Jim’smind from perceiving pain. It was dangerous to leave the barrier in place,considering that he could wind up hurting himself without realizing it.Blocking the ailments wouldn’t cure the condition, either, and therefore, Jimrelented once more.
Spock took the lever and stepped back, but before hecommanded the lift to move again, he let his other hand trail down Jim’s arm.
Wordlessly, they walked down the corridor and bothdisappeared into the captain’s quarters. Jim went directly to the sleepingalcove and freed himself from his shirt. His fingers began undoing the zipperon his trousers when Spock approached with a hypo.
“Thanks,” Jim offered, stopping his movements to allow thecontents to be injected in his arm.
“There is no need.” Spock deposited the empty syringe in theproper receptacle and then returned to where Jim stood in nothing but hisbriefs. He was folding his trousers, so Spock reached for the gold tunic and did the same to save Jim the extra step. As he did that, he added, “I would request, however, that next time youdo not deprive yourself of necessary medical attention.”
Jim’s lips formed a small smile and he glanced down to thefloor before his eyes found Spock’s again. “You’re lecturing me about that?” he demanded playfully,taking both garments and setting them aside on the nearby ledge. “After youavoid sickbay like the plague?”
“The captain’s life is precious,” Spock repliedmatter-of-factly, pulling the covers back. When he straightened his spine, twoarms were placed loosely over his shoulders and about his neck.
Jim’s gaze fell to Spock’s mouth and his brows pulled in forjust a moment before he whispered, “Are you saying the first officer’s isn’t?”
Spock closed his eyes and barely shook his head, then openedthem again. With an inhale, he admitted, “It had not been my intention.”
“Good.” Their lips met in a soft kiss which lingered beforethey slowly pulled apart.
“I must return to the bridge,” Spock said. “And you,Captain, must rest and recover.”
Jim hummed and drew his arms away as he lowered to the bed.He slid his feet beneath the blanket, but remained sitting. “What are you doingwhen the shift ends? Working in the lab?”
“On the contrary.” Spock pulled the cover up to Jim’s waist.“In one hour and fifteen minutes, I shall return here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Indeed.”
“Only if you can.” Jim nodded. “And you want to, of course.I’d really like that.”
“Recall one time I have ever desired to not be near you.” Spock raised his handand settled his fingertips over Jim’s psi points once more. “As expected, you cannot.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“Are you prepared?I suspect the medication has begun working, but it is likely you willexperience some pain once the shield is removed.”
“Mm,” Jim agreed. He looked up and called, “Computer,lights at fifteen percent.”
As the space dimmed, he felt a dull ache begin to resurface in his head, but itwas nowhere near comparable to the insufferable agony that had assaulted himpreviously. Taking a breath, Jim laid back against his pillow and felt Spockfollow him down. When deft Vulcan fingers caressed over his cheek, Jim feltlips pressing against his own again briefly before Spock pulled away.
“Sleep. I shall return shortly.”
Jim’s mouth pulled upward into a lazy grin and he closed hiseyes. Though he wouldn’t admit it, the sound of Spock’s footsteps walking awayfrom him left him feeling awfully bereft. Once the door swished shut, hereached for a pillow that didn’t belong to him and mumbled into it. “I love being near you, too.”
Holding it tightly, Jim pressedhis face against the soft fabric and inhaled the familiar scent that reminded himof cinnamon, of Vulcan, of home. It comforted him, lulled him into a sleep thatcured his migraine completely.
Jim had been in the middle of a dream that was much toosweet when he felt something soft brushing over his forehead. His eyesfluttered open to find Spock sitting beside him and stroking his brow.
“Do you still feel pain?”
It took a moment for Jim to realize he was no longer dreaming.Reaching up, he took Spock’s hand and brought it his mouth. Pursing his lips against it, he quietly thanked the stars for giving him this preciousgift. Against Spock’s fingertips, he whispered, “Only when you’re not with me.”
“I shall endeavor to always be, then.”
All Jim could do was close his eyes for that moment and smile. He would have it no other way.
~
Anonzy, I’m sorry this took like weeks to write. I started it when you sent it but then a lot of things happened and I couldn’t finish until now.
Also. Migraines suck. A lot. They should never happen. Ever. -____-;
