Why They Call It Falling - Part 4

[lah_mrh]

Fandom: Star Trek Reboot (AU)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When a group of Vulcans on a cultural exchange move in downstairs, Jim's friends bet him he can't seduce one of them. The last thing Jim expects is to fall in love, but Vulcan culture is strict, and he and Spock will have to battle many trials before they can reach their happy ending. Based on the film Latter Days.
Words: ~5900/24000
Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, past minor character death, homophobia, parental disapproval, attempted suicide

If Jim thought he was hurting when Spock was just on another planet, it's nothing compared to how much it hurts to know that Spock is dead. He will never see Spock again. Never hear his voice, or touch his skin, or feel his warmth. And worst of all, it's at least partly his fault.

He spends hours upon hours lying on his bed, tormenting himself with ideas of what he could have done differently. If he'd got through to Spock's parents sooner, if he'd insisted they exchange numbers, if he'd gone with Spock to offer moral support, maybe he could have kept him from feeling like he had nothing to live for.

Spock's mother's words keep going round and round in his head. I have lost him forever and it is all your fault. He hasn't told Uhura that part of the story, and he isn't planning to. He's pretty sure she'd take his side, but he doesn't want her to. Spock's mother's right – if he hadn't set out to seduce Spock, none of this would have happened. It makes Jim ache to know that the person he loved most would have been much better off if they'd never even met.

He leaves Spock's medallion lying on his desk, unable to touch it, barely willing to look at it. Every time he does he remembers lying in a hotel room at Lunaport, listening to the reverence in Spock's voice as he described how it was his most treasured possession.

In the end he tracks down Spock's parents' address and sends the medallion back to them, along with a note expressing his condolences. He doesn't know if Spock would have wanted them to have it, but it feels right. And, if he's honest, not having it there as a constant reminder of his loss is almost a relief. He can remember Spock just as well without it.

He feels like there's a hole in his chest, like someone's ripped him open and pulled out his heart, but he tries to work past it, to keep busy. The last thing he wants is to fall back into the pit of despair he experienced after his mother died. He focuses what little energy he can scrape up on his studies; Starfleet is the only thing he has left, and he doesn't know what he'd do if he lost that too.

In his darkest moments he consoles himself with the thought that when he graduates he'll be out there in the black, away from Earth, and all this will fade away. It doesn't really help, but it gives him something to work for. On a whim, he joins the chess club, purely because it feels like something Spock would do. He kind of sucks at it, but he keeps going back all the same.

His friends rally round him, offering help or support, and Jim is grateful, even though part of him doesn't feel he deserves it. No one mentions the bet, but he can't stop thinking about it anyway – after all, if he hadn't made the bet he wouldn't have gotten to know Spock, and none of this would have happened.

The hole in his chest doesn't heal, but slowly he becomes inured to the pain, able to ignore it most of the time until something reminds him of Spock, and it comes back full force. There's a Vulcan in his programming class and on bad days it takes all his energy just to be in the same room.

All things considered, though, he thinks he's handling it pretty well. That is, until Captain Pike calls him into his office for a chat.

The last time Jim was in Pike's office was after he put hair remover in the shampoo of a cadet who was tormenting him. Jim doesn't really regret it – Finnegan deserved it, the bastard, especially since Jim wasn't the only person he screwed over – but he does regret the look of disappointment Pike gave him. He's still grateful to Captain Pike for taking him under his wing after his mother died, for keeping him from self-destructing by giving him something to work for. Jim wouldn't be where he is today if it weren't for Pike, and he admits he wants the other man to be proud of him.

Still, he's pretty sure he hasn't done anything this time to get into trouble. Even if he wanted to, he hasn't had the time or the energy. He wracks his brain as he approaches Pike's office, wondering what reason his mentor could have for summoning him.

The door is open when he arrives, and Jim peeks in to see Pike sitting at his desk studying a PADD. Hesitantly, Jim knocks on the doorway and Pike looks up, giving him a smile. Jim relaxes fractionally, figuring that means he's not in trouble.

"Jim," Pike greets. "Come in and sit down." As Jim moves to do so, he hears Pike order, "Computer, close door," followed by the sound of the door sliding shut behind him.

Jim takes a seat on the other side of Pike's desk, forcing himself not to fidget. "You asked to see me?"

"Yes," Pike agrees. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

Jim shrugs, not looking at him. "Why wouldn't it be?" The last thing he wants is to have to explain the whole Spock situation. A lump starts forming in his throat just at the thought.

"You tell me," Pike replies. "You've seemed kind of quiet these last few weeks. Almost withdrawn. I've talked to a few of your professors, and they've noticed it too."

Jim can't think of anything to say, so he stays silent.

"You can talk to me, Jim," Pike says gently. "If there's something bothering you I'd like to know." He pauses briefly, then adds, "Is someone hurting you?"

Jim's gaze snaps up from where he's examining his knees. "What? No." But Pike's concerned expression breaks down his resistance. "A… friend of mine died recently. And I never even got to say goodbye."

"Ah," Pike says, his tone full of sympathy. "As it happens, I recently suffered a similar loss, so I know how hard it can be. I take it this was a sudden event?"

Jim nods.

"And right now you're probably asking yourself what you could have done differently. If there's some way you could have kept it from happening."

It isn't a question, and Jim stares at him. Maybe Pike does understand, just a little, though Jim wonders if he would be so sympathetic if he knew the whole story.

"Well, there isn't," Pike continues firmly. "Trust me, blaming yourself doesn't help anyone. The best thing you can do is live as they would want you to."

Jim nods again, slowly, and Pike taps at his PADD. "I'll talk to your professors and see if we can come to some sort of understanding. The Academy does offer grief counselling, but it's entirely up to you whether that's something you're interested in."

Jim has no intention of going to counselling, but he decides not to mention that. "I'll think about it," he says instead. "Is that all?"

Pike looks at him for a long moment, then nods. "You can go."

Jim practically leaps up, wanting to be anywhere but here. He's about to head for the door when Pike speaks again. "Jim?"

Jim turns back warily.

"Just so you know, I'm here, if you ever want someone to talk to. You're not alone."

Despite everything, the words create a warm feeling in Jim's chest. "I know," he says. "Thank you. Sir."

He manages a brief smile before turning and hurrying out. It isn't that he's not grateful to Pike, but the whole situation is a bit too much to handle right now.

Pike must keep his promise about speaking to Jim's professors, as several of them meet with him privately over the next few days to see if there's anything they can do to make things easier for him. Jim wishes they wouldn't – mostly he just wants to be left in peace and keep up the illusion that everything's fine – but he's a little gratified by the fact that most of them clearly had no idea anything was wrong. He isn't a particularly subtle person, but he can keep things hidden when he wants to.

Uhura is a rock throughout the whole situation. She keeps him busy, lets him talk whenever he needs to – even once in the middle of the night, when he tried to make cookies and woke her up by setting off the smoke alarm. He tries not to burden her with his problems, but he appreciates her presence all the same.

Which is why the news she comes out with as they approach the end of the semester comes as such a shock.

In retrospect, he should have suspected something was wrong when she dragged him out into the living room for a talk, but at the time he just takes it for one of her attempts at bonding. Instead she twists her hands together and blurts out, "I've been accepted for a placement on the Hood."

"Okay…" Jim replies, unsure how to react.

She bites her lip. "I applied for it months ago, before all this happened. I never expected I'd be chosen, but-"

Jim cuts her off. "You should have. You're amazing, and you deserve it." He takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the ache in his chest. "How long will you be gone?"

"Three months?" She meets his eyes, reaching out to touch his arm. "I haven't accepted it yet. I told them I needed to think about it."

"What's there to think about?" Jim asks. "It's an incredible opportunity. You'd be crazy to say no."

"And what about you?" Uhura asks softly.

"Me?" Jim shrugs. "I'll be fine. I can stay with Bones for a while." He lays a hand over hers and squeezes gently. "Really," he says. "Don't worry about me. You should go follow your dreams." He manages a smile, proud that it's only a little wobbly.

Uhura studies him for a moment, then without warning lunges forward and wraps her arms around him. "I'll write you every day," she says into his shoulder. "And you'd better write back, or there'll be trouble."

"I will," Jim replies, hugging her back. "I promise."

They stay like that for a moment longer before she pulls away, looking a little embarrassed at her show of emotion. "You know," she says, "if someone told me the moment we met that one day I'd regret a great opportunity because it meant leaving you, I'd never have believed it."

"Me either," Jim jokes, and is grateful when she laughs.

"You're a good person, Jim Kirk," she says, sobering. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Jim isn't sure he believes her, but he nods anyway.

Uhura stands up. "I'd better go tell them I'm accepting the post," she says. "We leave in two weeks."

With that she heads off to her bedroom, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts.

* * *

The night that Uhura leaves, Jim goes up to the roof. The last time he was up there was just after Spock left, the time before that was with Spock, and it makes his chest ache a little in remembrance. It's one reason he's been avoiding the place lately, but right now he needs the tranquillity of the stars more than he needs to avoid the reminders of Spock.

He sits down on the edge of the roof and gazes up at the stars. Almost without meaning to, he picks out Eridani, Vulcan's sun, and remembers following Spock's gaze as he pointed it out. A wave of loss and loneliness hits him like a blow, and he clenches his fists, eyes fixed on that far away star. "God, Spock," he mumbles. "I wish you were here. I miss you so much. I wish I could've been there to help you, to stop you feeling so alone. I wish your culture wasn't so rigid, that your parents had accepted you for who you were. I wish a lot of things, but most of all I wish I could tell you how sorry I am, and how much I wish I could make things right."

Tears prick at his eyes and he blinks them back. "I still love you," he tells the star, not caring how ridiculous it is to say all this as if there's any chance Spock could hear it. "I think I always will. And I'm sorry I didn't try harder to make sure you knew that."

Finally running out of words, he falls silent. He stares up at Eridani for a few seconds more, then turns away. The hole in his chest is still there, the ache of loss just as sharp as it always is, but saying it all out loud like that has helped, just a little.

He takes a deep breath, standing up straight, before making his way back down to the apartment to finish packing.

* * * * *

Sixteen light years away, Spock comes awake with a gasp. He has dreamed of Jim many times since he was brought here, but this dream felt different. It was as though he was actually there, standing beside Jim as he looked at the stars and spoke of his regret that Spock was not with him.

Wary of alerting the acolytes, Spock slips out of bed and kneels on the bare floor to meditate. Most Vulcans use a bench or mat of some kind, but students at Gol are forbidden such luxuries.

The sleeves of his robe fall down as he raises his hands, revealing the white lines across his wrists. The healers were able to save his life, but left the scars as a reminder of his failure and lack of logic. Spock has grown used to seeing them by now, and pays them no mind.

He sinks into his meditative trance, searching for any indication that the dream might not have been just a dream. And, to his amazement, he finds it.

In the bonding centre of his mind is a tiny thread, stretching out into infinity, similar to the one he once shared with T'Pring. Spock's heart speeds up as he follows the thread and finds that, as he suspected, it joins his mind to Jim's.

He pulls out of his mind and just sits there for a moment, trying to process the new information. The link must have formed during their sexual activity at Lunaport, the night before he left. But more importantly, it means that his mother was wrong. Jim does love him, and wants only for Spock to be with him.

Spock looks around, taking in the blank walls and bare mattress. He does not want to be here. He has never wanted to be here. He was brought here by the healers after his failed attempt to end his life, and at the time he was too lost to bother arguing. It was his father's idea, of course – one last misguided attempt to change him, fix him. Whether he likes it or not.

It should not be difficult to break out, Spock thinks, he has merely never had a reason to attempt it before. Now he does.

He rises and walks to the window, picking out Earth's sun and fixing his eyes on it. "I am coming, Jim," he whispers. "Wait for me."

Then, carefully, quietly, he steps away and begins to pack.

* * *

He leaves the next night, when everyone is sleeping. Most of the people at Gol are there by choice, so there is little security. He has to nerve pinch one guard near the entrance, and then he is free. He glances back once as he reaches the gates, then swings his bag over his shoulder and makes his way out into the desert.

He reaches the outskirts of ShiKahr just as the sun is rising, and heads straight for the shuttle port. There is a spare credit chip sown into the lining of his bag, with just enough on it to purchase a one way ticket to Lunaport. He orders the ticket from a machine, then checks the announcement boards to find out where he needs to go next. As it happens, the next shuttle to Lunaport leaves in just under four hours, from Gate Five.

Spock makes a note of the information, then decides to get something to eat before he makes his way over to the gate. The food at Gol is intended to supply all needed nutrients, but the taste and texture leave much to be desired.

He purchases fruit and tea from a nearby store, and sits down to eat them. He wonders if his parents are aware that he is no longer at the monastery, and if they will even care. His mother, perhaps, but he cannot imagine his father reacting with anything other than disappointment that Spock has once more brought shame on the family.

There was a time when Spock would have been pained by such a thought, but he stopped caring what his father thought of him when he was banished to Gol. It is an oddly freeing feeling.

Spock's thoughts turn to the more pleasant ones of seeing Jim again, and with a shock he realises the emotion he is feeling is happiness. It has been so long since he felt anything but tiredness and despair that he almost doesn't recognise it. Soon, he tells himself, stomach fluttering with anticipation. Soon.

* * *

The journey to Lunaport seems to take longer than it did previously. Spock knows that that is an illogical thought, that each voyage is designed to take the same amount of time, but it seems that way all the same.

He spends most of the time in meditation, attempting to calm himself at the prospect of finally being reunited with Jim. He wishes they hadn't wasted so much time being miserable alone when they could have been happy together. Still, at least they will be together soon.

When they arrive at Lunaport, he stares out the window at the green and blue ball of planet Earth and feels the same fluttering in his stomach. A one-hour stopover and a shuttle ride later, he steps out of the shuttle port in San Francisco and takes a deep breath of the cool Earth air. Settling his bag more firmly on his shoulder, he hails a taxi and gives the address of Jim's apartment block.

He stares out of the window as they travel, wondering how Jim will react to Spock showing up like this. Ideally, he would have liked to call first, but he does not have Jim's number. At least he will not have to worry about seeing Stonn and the others; they will have returned to Vulcan by now.

The taxi drops him off outside the building, and Spock hesitates for a moment before straightening and determinedly making his way inside and up to the fourth floor.

From the outside, Jim's apartment looks just the same. Spock takes a deep breath, then raises his hand and signals for entry.

There is no response. Spock waits for precisely one minute, then signals again. Still no one answers.

Spock frowns. It appears Jim and his roommate are not home. He checks the time and finds it is still early. They are likely still in class.

For lack of anything better to do, he settles down beside the door, intending to wait until Jim returns.

Forty-two minutes later, he is keeping himself busy by mentally reciting each of Surak's laws in High Vulcan, then translating to Common Vulcan and Standard, when his attention is distracted by a woman stepping out of an apartment a few doors down.

She stops when she catches sight of him, and stares. Spock hastily gets to his feet, one hand curling protectively around his bag.

"You here for a reason?" she asks, her gaze flicking from him to the door to the bag and back.

Spock nods. "Yes." He gestures vaguely at the door next to him. "I am waiting for my… friend. Jim Kirk?"

The woman gives him a dubious look. "You're gonna be waiting a long time. He moved out."

Spock's stomach drops. "When?" he manages.

"Couple of days ago."

So close. Spock takes a breath, firmly pushing down the frustration. "What about his roommate?" he asks.

"She's gone too."

"Do you know where?"

The woman shrugs. "Sorry. We didn't really talk much, you know?"

"It is all right," Spock replies. It is a lie; it is not all right, not even close, but it would be illogical to place the blame for his situation on someone who had no hand in it. "Thank you for your help."

Feeling oddly numb, he picks up his bag and begins making his way out of the building, mind whirling as he tries to think what to do now. All his plans centred on finding Jim, and he assumed things after that would fall into place, and it is only now dawning on him how poorly thought through his actions were. Here he is, on Earth, with nowhere to go and no Jim.

A memory pokes through the fog of despair, and he stops in his tracks, rummaging through his bag until he uncovers a small card. If you ever change your mind, look me up.

Spock stares at the card, considering. He is still not entirely certain about joining Starfleet, but it is at least a place to start. Perhaps Captain Pike will be able to offer some advice as what to do next.

* * *

It does not take him long to reach the Academy, and he makes his way uncertainly to Pike's office. He does not know if this is a good idea – he barely knows the man, after all – but he has yet to think of a better one.

The door is open as he approaches, and he can see Captain Pike inside, working at his computer. Spock steels himself, then steps forward and knocks tentatively on the door.

Pike looks up and Spock swallows. "I don't know if you remember me-" he begins, but Pike interrupts him.

"No, I do," he says. "You're the boy who comforted me outside the hospital. Come in, sit down!"

Spock does so. Pike studies him for a moment, frowning. "I'm afraid I can't quite remember your name," he says, sounding apologetic.

"Spock," Spock tells him, and Pike's face clears.

"That's right," he says. "So what brings you here, then? I thought you'd have gone back to Vulcan by now."

"I did," Spock replies. "I am not… comfortable living there any longer."

"Why?" Pike asks.

Spock takes a breath, gaze dropping to his hands. "I am homosexual." There is a certain relief in finally saying it out loud.

"Ah." Pike pauses, as if considering. "And is that not… accepted on Vulcan?"

Spock shakes his head. "Two men cannot procreate, therefore such a relationship would be illogical." The words are routine by now, but he still can't quite make himself believe them. He laces his fingers together, finally glancing up. "I understand things are viewed differently among humans?"

Pike nods. "There are still bigots out there, but most humans don't care as long as everyone's consenting. We've learned there are more important things." He gives Spock a comforting smile. "I'm not going to pretend Earth is some kind of utopia, or that you'll never face problems here, but who you sleep with isn't likely to be one of them."

The idea is somewhat intoxicating. "I believe I would like to join the Academy," Spock says. He may not have been sure when he arrived here, but the idea has grown on him. To be out among the stars, exploring, with people who will not judge him… there is a definite appeal to the idea.

Pike's smile grows. "You're sure?" At Spock's nod, he continues, "Well, you're in luck. The entrance exam for prospective students is next week. I can put your name down, and if you pass, which I'm sure you will, you can start next semester."

"Thank you," Spock says.

Pike waves a hand. "Don't mention it. My superiors are always talking about trying to get more Vulcans into Starfleet. They'll be thrilled."

Spock debates pointing out that he is only half-Vulcan, and decides against it. Vulcans see his human side, humans see his Vulcan side. It has always been that way, and if he is going to live among them he may as well embrace it. Pike turns back to his computer. "Just let me get your name on the list, and I can tell you the date and time of the exam."

Spock nods. He looks around the room while Pike works, taking everything in. His attention is caught by what looks like a model ship on a shelf across the room, and he gets up for a closer look.

"The USS Enterprise." Pike's voice rings out as Spock examines the ship, briefly startling him. "She's still being built – barely a skeleton at this point – but when she's finished she should look a little like that."

Spock has never understood why humans refer to inanimate objects as though they were sentient, but he doesn't comment. He is about to ask more questions about the so-called Enterprise when there is a knock on the door.

"Hey, sir? I wanted to talk to you about-" The voice cuts off suddenly. "Oh, sorry. Didn't realise you had company."

Spock's heart begins pounding in his side. He knows that voice. Slowly he turns to see Jim Kirk standing in the doorway of Pike's office.

He can see the exact moment Jim recognises him, as the PADD he is holding falls from his hands and lands on the floor with a crash.

"Ah, Jim," Pike says. "This is-"

"You're alive," Jim interrupts, as if Pike hadn't spoken. His gaze is fixed on Spock as though he expects him to disappear any moment. A second later he is moving, rushing forward and sweeping Spock into a hug.

"You're alive," he mumbles into Spock's shoulder, arms squeezing tightly. "Oh my God, Spock, I thought you were dead."

"Apparently you two have met," Pike says dryly.

"Indeed," Spock replies absently, as he wraps his own arms around Jim's back.

After a moment Jim pulls away enough so they can look into each other's eyes. "I called your mom," Jim says, apparently not caring that they currently have an audience. "She told me…." He trails off, gaze flicking to Spock's wrists. "I guess I misunderstood."

It isn't difficult for Spock to figure out what must have happened, but it isn't a conversation he wants to have here and now. "I went to your apartment," he says instead. "A woman there told me that you moved out."

Jim nods. "Uhura got offered a post on the Hood, so I'm staying with Bones for a while." He smiles weakly. "I missed you."

"And I you," Spock replies.

They are interrupted by Pike clearing his throat, and both turn to look at him. His expression is stern, but his eyes are warm. "Obviously the two of you have a lot to talk about," he says. "Why don't you go get reacquainted, and we can pick this up later."

"That'd be great," Jim replies immediately, before frowning. "Pick what up?"

"I have decided to join Starfleet," Spock tells him.

"Really?" Jim asks, a smile spreading across his face.

Spock nods. "It seemed the logical option," he says, but lets his hand drift down and briefly brush against Jim's.

"I'm free around eleven hundred tomorrow," Pike says. "Come by then and we can get started on the paperwork."

"Understood," Spock replies, managing to tear his gaze away from Jim for a few seconds. "Thank you."

Pike smiles. "It's no problem. You two have a good day."

"We will," Jim promises.

Spock does not know how to thank Pike for everything he has done, so in the end he just nods and follows Jim out of the room.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Jim asks, as they make their way out of the building into the sunshine.

Spock shakes his head. He spent most of his money on the ticket to Earth, and he suspects what is left will not last long. "I am sure there are options-"

"Not necessary," Jim interrupts. "You can stay with me." His brow wrinkles briefly. "Bones might complain a bit, but he can shove it." He steps a little closer and bumps Spock's shoulder with his own. "I'm not letting you go again."

The words send a rush of warmth through Spock's body. No one has ever said such a thing to him before, as if he is too precious to let go of. "That would be appreciated," he says quietly. "Are you sure it will not cause strife with your friend?"

Jim shakes his head. "Nah. Bones grumbles a lot, but he's a big softie deep down. He'd never turn down a person in need." He glances at Spock. "We can go there now, if you want. You look kind of tired."

Spock nods slowly. It has been a long day – a long few months, if he is honest. "I am."

"Well, come on then," Jim says, gesturing ahead of them.

* * *

Jim and 'Bones's' apartment is slightly further from the Academy than his and Uhura's was, and in completely the other direction. It is on the ground floor – apparently Bones does not entirely trust elevators – and the number on the door proclaims it as 102. Jim runs his hand over a panel next to the door and ushers Spock inside as it slides open.

Spock's first thought is that the apartment is smaller than he was expecting, but despite that it seems… comfortable. A far cry from the sterile, characterless surroundings he experienced at Gol, or even the 'everything in its place' organisation of his parents' house. There is an unwashed bowl on the table, clothing strewn over the armchair and miscellaneous items shoved randomly into corners.

Beside him, Jim grimaces. "I know it's a bit of a mess," he begins, but Spock interrupts him.

"No," he says. "It's perfect." And he means it.

Jim stares at him for a moment, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Come on," he says, his voice warm. "Let me show you around."

He steps forwards, waving a hand at the room. "This is the living room."

Spock follows as he walks towards a door at the far side of the room. Opening it reveals a small kitchen, equally untidy. "That's the kitchen," Jim says unnecessarily. He doesn't go in, instead turning round and heading for the other door off the living room.

This one leads to a narrow hallway, with three doors. "That's the bathroom," Jim says, pointing at the door at the end. "Although there's no actual bath, so we have to make do with showers."

He gestures at the door in front of them. "This is Bones's room, and he's threatened to skin me alive if I ever go in there, so we'll leave it alone."

Spock eyes the door warily, wondering whether he actually wants to meet this Bones character. He sounds somewhat deranged.

"And this," Jim says, drawing Spock's attention back to him, "is my room." With a smile at Spock, he opens the door and disappears inside.

Spock approaches curiously. This bedroom is slightly smaller than the one he remembers from Jim's previous apartment, but it otherwise bears a striking resemblance. He wanders over to inspect a pile of electronic components on Jim's desk.

"I'm trying to build my own PADD," Jim says, coming to stand beside him.

Spock raises an eyebrow. "And how are you fairing?" he asks.

Jim shrugs. "Not as well as I'd hoped, to be honest. I was mostly just trying to keep my mind off-" He stops suddenly, eyes squeezing shut.

Spock stares at him in concern. "Jim?"

Jim opens his eyes and gives Spock a wavering smile. "I'm all right. It's just hard to believe this is real, you know? You're alive, and you're here, and-" He stops again, pressing his hands to his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says, and his voice is unsteady. When he lowers his hands, Spock can see his eyes are wet. "I just… I thought you'd killed yourself."

"I tried," Spock admits quietly, and pulls up his sleeve. He tenses as Jim reaches out to touch, fingers wrapping gently around Spock's wrist as his thumb brushes over the scars.

"I'm sorry," Jim says again, and the wetness in his eyes overflows and spills down his cheeks. "I should never have let you go." He lunges forward suddenly and wraps his arms around Spock. "Promise you won't do anything like that again," he mumbles. "I couldn't bear it."

"I won't," Spock promises, returning the hug hesitantly.

They hold each other for a moment longer, taking comfort in the closeness, before Jim pulls away. "This is stupid," he says, wiping at his cheeks. "You've been through hell and I'm the one who's crying." He gives Spock a weak smile and adds, "I'm just… really glad you're here."

"As am I," Spock replies, and dares to reach out and take Jim's hand. Even now, light years away from his father, it feels like rebellion.

"I sent your medallion back to your parents," Jim says. "When I thought you were…" He trails off briefly, then continues, "Did they tell you?"

"They did not have the chance," Spock replies, although he is no longer certain that it would have made a difference. He takes a sharp breath, forcing out the rest. "After… the incident, my father suggested I be sent to the monastery at Gol, to learn how to manage my emotions. I have had no contact with them since then."

Jim blinks. "So they don't know you're here?"

Spock shakes his head. "I imagine that by now the acolytes will have informed them of my disappearance, but anything beyond that will be speculation on their parts."

"Do you think they'll be worried?"

The question brings Spock up short. His mother will be, even if he cannot say the same for his father. He can still picture the look on her face when he woke up at the hospital, the tears in her eyes when they parted at Gol. For a moment he feels almost guilty, but then he remembers the past weeks of isolation and despair, waiting for comfort and reassurance that never came, and something inside him hardens. "Let them worry."

Jim's expression softens to one of sympathy, and he steps forward and wraps his arms around Spock. Spock leans into the touch, resting his head on Jim's shoulder as Jim's hand reaches up to stroke his hair.

"I'm sorry," Jim says quietly. "But just so you know, you're incredible just the way you are, and if your parents or anyone else can't see that then that's their problem."

"They tried to tell me this was wrong," Spock says into Jim's shoulder. "That I was wrong."

"You're not," Jim tells him, still stroking his hair.

And, for the first time, Spock truly believes it.

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