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Hearts and Minds: Chapter 2 - Changes
Pairing: Kirk Prime/Spock Prime, Spock/Uhura, eventual Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Beta:
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secret_chord25, many thanks. Summary: When the Enterprise encounters a ship caught in the Nexus, their rescue attempt beams aboard someone unexpected; Kirk Prime. Kirk and Spock are forced to confront what their counterparts' relationship might mean for their own.
The crew of the Archimedes are, as the ambassador suggested, not particularly pleased to be saved. Kirk has managed to find rooms for all of them, and those who are well enough have been shown to their quarters.
Kirk learns from the crewmembers that the captain of their ship is dead, along with their first officer. Their current highest commanding crewmember is the chief of security, who agrees to their suggestions listlessly. Kirk wonders what kind of world these people were removed from.
When all of their new passengers are dealt with, Kirk checks with Scotty in engineering and learns that their engines have been damaged by the struggle. It’s fixable, but until then, the
Thinking of Spock’s counterpart naturally leads to thoughts of his own. It’s an incredibly odd sensation to meet yourself; he’s beginning to see why Spock tends to avoid his counterpart. Kirk isn't sure what to make of this image of how he’ll look when he’s older. He's never really imagined making it to that kind of age; he’s still kind of shocked that he’s made it this far. The older him is rather larger round the middle than Kirk would prefer, but overall, if this is what his future holds, it’s not so bad.
He smiles a little. His and Spock’s counterparts seemed so happy to see one another. The elder Spock was even smiling slightly - pretty much the Vulcan equivalent of grinning ecstatically. He wonders if he’ll ever have that with his Spock. He’s been trying to bring the two of them closer together, but their friendship, at present, seems to mostly consist of Spock kicking his ass at chess and bitching him out for almost getting himself killed, sometimes simultaneously. The elder him-and-Spock, on the other hand, were so close that they could practically read each other’s minds.
Kirk suddenly has the urge to talk to his counterpart. Maybe he can get some tips on how to make the epic friendship that the elder Spock talked about a reality.
Checking the time, he finds it’s been one and a half hours since they parted ways with their elder selves. He wonders if they’ve finished their discussion; summing up decades of history has got to take a while. He makes sure that he isn’t needed anywhere else, then heads to the ambassador’s quarters.
He buzzes for entry, and waits. The door opens after a moment to reveal the elder Spock.
“Hey; I was wondering if I could talk to the other me?”
The ambassador moves aside, allowing Kirk’s counterpart to step into view. It’s still a difficult image to get used to. “Sure, why not?” he says, smiling. “I want to hear all about this ship.”
Kirk turns to the elder Spock. “You don’t mind?”
The two older men exchange glances, and again, Kirk gets the feeling like they’re communicating in a way he can’t see. Then he wonders if maybe that’s actually possible, and makes a mental note to ask his own Spock about it.
“I have no objections,” the ambassador finally replies. “I shall remain here for the moment.”
“Okay; I guess we’ll see you later.” Kirk takes a step back as his counterpart steps out of the room, then turns and offers the elder Spock the Vulcan salute. Kirk is mildly gratified at the idea that he will, one day, be able to master it. He just hopes it doesn’t take until he’s his elder self’s age.
“Well, lead on, then,” Jim says cheerfully as the door to the ambassador’s cabin slides closed.
They wander around for a while, discussing the ship and her crew. Kirk notices that they appear to be attracting a few odd looks, which leads him to wonder what exactly he is going to tell everyone – though, given the rate that gossip travels on this ship, it’s entirely possible they already know.
At one point, their eyes meet, and Jim frowns. “Your eyes are blue.”
“Yeah.” Kirk shrugs. “Had them changed when I was sixteen.” He looks away. “I got tired of being compared to my dad.”
“Yeah, Spock told me about that. I’m sorry.”
Kirk shrugs again. “Hey, while we’re asking stuff, how come you’re shorter than me?” He’s noticed a difference of at least a few inches between their heights.
His counterpart just looks at him for a few moments, expression blank, before asking, “Does the name ‘Tarsus IV’ mean anything to you?”
Kirk racks his brain. “No.”
Jim’s expression darkens. “Be glad of that.”
Kirk really wants to know what he means, but one look at Jim’s face convinces him not to ask. He makes a mental note to look it up later and swiftly changes the subject. “Tell me about my father?”
Jim brightens slightly. “What do you want to know?”
Once he starts asking questions, it’s almost impossible to stop. His elder self’s recollections of their father make Kirk wish even more that he had a chance to know him.
In general, talking to his counterpart is both the most interesting and most bizarre experience of Kirk’s life. Occasionally they run up against the ‘changing the future’ excuse, although the way it’s delivered makes Kirk think that it’s more a warning from the elder Spock than a genuine worry. On the whole, he finds he rather likes this older-and-wiser him.
Kirk waits until they’re alone on the observation deck before mentioning Spock. His counterpart seems only too happy to talk about their friendship.
Kirk thinks for a few seconds; what he wants to ask is, ‘Why did Spock and I start out hating each other and you and the other Spock didn’t?’ What he actually asks is, “How did you two meet?”
“I was given command of the
“You didn’t meet before that?”
“Not that I remember. Why?”
Kirk frowns. He’d just assumed.... “What about the Kobayashi Maru?”
Jim looks confused. “What about it?”
Kirk swallows. “You didn’t… reprogram it?”
He gets a grin in response, and relaxes slightly. “You too, huh?” The grin is replaced by a puzzled look. “I don’t see what that has to do with Spock, though.”
“He didn’t program it in your reality?”
“No. Well, yes, but not when I took it.” He pauses. “How did he react?”
“He had me court-martialled.” The Kobayashi Maru trial is not exactly Kirk’s happiest memory. “What happened when you took it?” he asks curiously.
Jim looks slightly sheepish. “I stayed behind afterwards and talked to the guy who programmed it. Once I laid out my reasoning, he actually seemed impressed. Gave me a commendation for original thinking.” He sighs. “I’m suddenly a little glad Spock didn’t program it.”
Kirk stares at him. Typical. His counterpart gets a commendation, and he gets in trouble. At least this explains a little why their friendship was apparently less explosive than his and Spock’s. “I suppose he never tried to kill you in your reality,” he says, after a moment.
“He did, actually,” Jim says, raising his eyebrows. “It’s a long story.”
As Kirk’s about to ask what he means by that, Jim suddenly doubles over, clutching his head. When he looks up, all of the colour has drained from his face.
“Something’s wrong,” he manages, then turns and rushes out of the room. Kirk follows, finding he has to sprint to keep up. The two of them enter the turbolift at top speed and his counterpart orders it to deck five.
“What’s going on?” Kirk pants.
“We have to get to Spock.” Jim refuses to give any more information than that.
Within a few moments the doors open and Jim dashes off again. As they round the corner, Kirk spots a figure lying on the floor. As they get closer, he can see that it’s the elder Spock, and he looks to be pretty badly injured.
Kirk slams his palm on the nearest communication point. “Captain to Sickbay – we have an emergency on deck five.”
His counterpart kneels next to the unconscious Vulcan and shakes his shoulder. “Spock. Spock, can you hear me?” There is no response. “He’s bleeding,” Jim reports, pulling off his overshirt and pressing it against the ambassador’s head.
As Kirk kneels next to him, he notices a streak of green blood on the bulkhead and swallows hard, wondering what could have happened. He has an uncomfortable suspicion that this wasn’t an accident. “You knew,” he finds himself saying, as they wait for help to arrive. “You knew he was hurt. How?”
“Can we talk about it later?” Jim snaps. He’s muttering under his breath, something that sounds like, “Please, no, not now, not again, not like this….”
Thankfully a medical team arrives then, and relieves them. They take the ambassador down to sickbay, and Jim goes with them, not taking his eyes off the unconscious body of his friend.
Kirk contacts security to tell them what has happened and order a shipwide search, as well as ordering a guard put on sickbay, just in case. Then, trying not to look at the blood, he gets someone to organise cleanup and heads for the bridge. Kirk finds himself desperately hoping that the elder Spock is going to be okay; he has become particularly fond of the nicer version of his first officer.
Kirk enters the bridge and strides over to where Spock is occupying his chair. His first officer gracefully vacates the seat so that Kirk can sit down, though he hovers at his captain’s side.
“Captain, if it is acceptable, I would like to go down to sickbay. I understand my counterpart is injured?”
Kirk nods.
“He may require a blood transfusion. It is therefore logical for me to volunteer.” Spock looks away, and Kirk realises that he isn’t doing this because of logic. Affection rushes through him.
“Go ahead,” he says warmly. “We’ll manage without you.”
Spock nods and turns sharply. Kirk watches him enter the turbolift and disappear, then turns back to the situation at hand. He presses the intercom. “Scotty, how’re the engines doing?”
“Still warp four, I’m afraid, Captain. We’re workin’ on it, but it looks like it’ll be a good while yet.”
“Contact me the instant they’re fixed.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Kirk out.” Kirk cuts the connection, and stares around the bridge. He wants to go down to sickbay, but it’s not like there’s anything he can do; he’ll just be getting in the way.
After a few moments he contacts security.
“Giotto here.”
Kirk taps his fingers anxiously against the armrest. “Any news?”
“Not so far, sir. We’ve got all of the passengers together, but we can’t tell so far if any of them are guilty – most of them are acting strangely anyway. We’ve also got people searching the ship, just in case.”
Kirk sighs. “Well, keep it up, and contact me if you find anything.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
Kirk decides he can’t just sit here any longer. “Sulu, you have the conn. I’ll be in sickbay.”
“Aye, sir.”
Kirk arrives at sickbay several minutes later to find his first officer sitting on a bed. “Hey,” he greets. “Did they need you?”
“The doctor has drawn some of my blood as a precautionary measure, but they are waiting to see if it is needed.”
At that moment, McCoy appears from a side room. “You’re supposed to be lying down,” he grumbles at Spock.
“How is he?” Kirk asks.
McCoy’s expression is not encouraging. “I don’t know, Jim. We’ve done everything we can, but it’s still pretty touch and go. Either he’ll wake up on his own, or he won’t.”
Kirk’s heart clenches at the possibility of the elder Spock’s death.
“I gotta say, though, you’re a stubborn bastard in both universes,” McCoy adds, apparently attempting to lighten the mood. “Your counterpart hasn’t left the ambassador’s side for a second since we brought him in here.” He nods towards the door he’s just exited.
There’s an odd undercurrent to the words, but Kirk ignores it. “They’ve been apart a long time.” Guilt for taking up his elder self’s time sweeps through him.
“Have they discovered the identity of the attacker?” Spock asks, changing the subject.
“Not yet.” Kirk sighs. “Why would someone do this?”
“Logically there are many reasons for such an attack. We may not know the true reason until my counterpart regains consciousness.” Spock frowns, if only slightly; Kirk can’t help but focus on the words he isn’t saying: ‘If he regains consciousness.’
“Can I see him?” Kirk asks abruptly.
McCoy shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”
He can hear Spock and McCoy arguing over the illogic of human expressions as he approaches the door. He enters the room and finds his counterpart sitting by the ambassador’s bed, holding his hand. He glances up as Kirk approaches, then returns his eyes to the unconscious form. Kirk follows his gaze and is alarmed at how pale and still the elder Spock is.
“He’ll be okay,” Jim says quietly, after a moment. “He has to be.”
“He saved my life, once,” Kirk offers.
“And mine. Dozens of times.” Jim looks at him. “I suppose it’s the same with your Spock.”
“Yeah; kind of.” Kirk can still remember one time a few months ago when Spock had ended up in sickbay from saving his life. Maybe he can understand a little of what his counterpart must be going through.
“Bones hasn’t changed much,” Jim remarks, after a short silence.
“You called him Bones,” Kirk says in surprise.
“Of course I did. I’m the one who gave him the nickname.”
“Were you close, in your reality?” That’s one thing he’s been curious about. In all the talk of his and Spock’s supposed epic friendship, the elder Spock had barely mentioned McCoy. Kirk had started to wonder if maybe they hadn’t been friends there.
“He was my best friend.” His counterpart looks slightly nostalgic.
“I thought Spock was your best friend,” Kirk says, confused.
Jim pauses for a moment. “They both were.” He sighs. “They were each other’s as well; not that either of them would ever admit it.”
Kirk can’t imagine Spock and McCoy ever being friends, though there was a time when he would’ve said the same thing about Spock and him. He suddenly feels uncomfortable as he watches his counterpart and waves a hand vaguely over his shoulder. “I should….”
Jim nods. “Go.” His expression hardens. “Find whoever did this.”
Kirk feels his own anger rise as he takes one last look at the unconscious Vulcan. “Don’t worry. I will.”
* * * * *
They’ve placed Spock in a room of his own; partially because it’s safer, and partially so that they could set the conditions to closer to ‘Vulcan normal’ in an attempt to make him more comfortable. A side effect, of course, is that what is comfortable for Vulcans is fairly uncomfortable for humans, but, as focused as he is on Spock, Jim barely notices the heat.
He’s done this a dozen times over: sat at a bedside hoping and praying that his friend – and later, his bondmate – would wake up, would be okay. He can’t bring himself to let go of Spock’s hand, as if his touch can tether the Vulcan to this reality. He’s tried, a couple of times, reaching out with the bond, but Spock is too deeply unconscious to notice or respond.
He still remembers what it was like to lose Spock – pressing his hand against a transparent barrier and feeling like his heart was being ripped from his chest. But if Jim loses him this time, there’ll be no second chances; no miracle cures. Spock will really be gone, forever, and Jim doesn’t know what he’ll do then.
But he still clings to hope, because the chances of them finding their way back to each other again after all this time are infinitesimal, and yet it has happened. And he has to believe that the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to bring him and Spock back together only to tear them apart.
He almost can’t believe how long it’s been. Time in the Nexus barely seemed to pass at all; from Jim’s point of view, it has been no more than a week since the Enterprise-B, but for Spock it has been almost a century. Spock’s skin is much more wrinkled than Jim remembers, and his hair has turned grey. His love has grown old without him.
If it weren’t for the fact that Vulcan lifespans far outstrip human ones, Spock would likely already be dead. Jim has learned that the rest of their friends from the
“I can’t lose you as well,” he mutters, still staring at Spock.
He can’t help longing slightly for the simplicity of the Nexus. There was no pain, no fear, no sadness; he had everything that he could possibly want. Except Spock; he reminds himself of that part firmly. When Picard finally managed to convince Jim that it was all an illusion, it was like waking up from a dream. And, he thinks, he’ll take reality with Spock, as hard and painful as it is, over paradise without him.
Every so often one of the medical staff comes in to check Spock’s vitals; Jim thinks he recognises Christine Chapel among them. Several times they try to get Jim to leave; to get some food, or some sleep, but he makes it very clear that he is not leaving.
He passes the time by thinking about their counterparts. According to his Spock, their younger selves aren’t together. It isn’t too surprising; they’ve known each other less than a year. What is surprising, though, is that the younger Spock is apparently involved with Lieutenant Uhura. Jim spent a few moments after that revelation attempting to envision his Spock involved with the Uhura of their reality, and came to the conclusion that things must, indeed, be very different here.
Jim finds that he is quite fond of his counterpart. He is slightly annoyed that his record for youngest captain in Starfleet has been broken, but there's a certain consolation in the fact that it was broken by himself. They are, in many ways, very similar, but different enough that their conversations are, as Spock would put it, fascinating. The younger him is slightly more reckless and rebellious than he was at that age, but the responsibilities of command have curbed his impulses somewhat. Jim wonders if that is truly the person he would have become without his father’s influence in his life, without the memories of Tarsus IV hanging over his head. He considers their diverging childhoods and thinks that they’re probably equally damaged in the end – just in different ways.
He hasn’t spent enough time with Spock’s counterpart to form a solid impression, but from the little he’s seen, the younger Spock seems more emotional than his Spock had been; almost angrier – no doubt a side effect of losing his planet and his mother. He wonders, though, if youth plays a part; Spock once admitted to him that he experimented with lessening his emotional control in his early years serving under Captain Pike. He eventually gave the experiment up as a failure, and by the time they met, he’d buried himself so far into his Vulcan shell that it took Jim months to break through his defences. Maybe his counterpart will have an easier time of it.
He barely notices the time pass, but at some point he falls asleep, head pillowed on his arms. He awakens some time later, blinking in the harsh light, and feels a rush of joy and relief as he realises what it was that woke him. Spock is beginning to stir. “Jim,” he murmurs.
Jim grips his hand tightly. “I’m here.”
Spock’s eyes open, and he looks over at Jim, blinking. “Jim?”
Jim smiles broadly. “Hey. How’re you feeling?” He can feel through the bond that Spock is basically okay, despite some pain, but it helps Jim to actually ask.
Spock raises his free hand to his temple. “My head….” He frowns at Jim. “I thought I had dreamed you.”
“I’m here.” Jim reaches out and gently massages Spock’s temple. “I should go tell them that you’re awake.” He stands up and prepares to leave, but is stopped by Spock’s grip on his hand. Spock attempts to sit up and Jim quickly moves to help him.
“Don’t leave,” Spock implores quietly.
Jim frowns. Spock doesn’t seem to be shielding at all, and his anxiety is palpable. “It’ll just be for a few seconds,” he says, squeezing Spock’s hand.
“No.”
Jim can feel Spock’s anxiety ratchet up a notch, and hears very clearly: I don’t want to lose you again. He begins to understand. After Spock’s resurrection, it took Jim months to accept that fate wasn’t going to take him away again.
He sits down on the edge of the bed. “Okay; it’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He tries to send soothing thoughts through his touch.
Apparently Spock’s little panic attack set off some kind of sensor, as McCoy strides in. “You’re awake,” he says bluntly, and only someone who knows him as well as Jim would notice the undercurrent of relief in his voice. He turns to Jim and adds, “You, off the bed.” Jim obediently moves to the chair, thinking that at least some things haven’t changed with the timelines. McCoy steps up to the bed and begins running tests. “Any pain, nausea?”
Spock loosens his grip on Jim’s hand, but seems reluctant to let go completely. “Yes.” He frowns. “It is more difficult than usual to control the pain.”
McCoy looks at him. “You’re recovering from a fairly serious head injury. I’d imagine it’ll be a while until your ‘control’ is back to normal.” They run through the usual tests and discover that while Spock can answer all of the general knowledge questions, he has no memory of the attack – no memories at all between watching Jim leaving their quarters and waking up in sickbay.
When he is satisfied that Spock is relatively undamaged, McCoy injects him with a hypospray. “That should help reduce the symptoms.”
He scribbles something on a PADD, and gives Spock a hard look. “Now, I want you to get some rest.” Switching his glare to Jim, he adds, “I don’t know what you were doing before I got here, but don’t do it again. Getting stressed out like that is not going to help his recovery.”
“I’ll try to keep him calm,” Jim promises, smiling at Spock.
“I’ll go tell the captain that you’re awake; I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you.” McCoy gives them both an odd look before turning and disappearing through the doorway.
Jim and Spock just stare at each other for a moment after he leaves. “You’re not going to lose me again,” Jim says quietly.
“I have lived without you for so long,” Spock replies. “I am aware that the fear of losing you is not logical, but I am having difficulty controlling it.” He looks down at the bedcovers. “It would be easier if you remained close for the moment.”
Jim leans forward and squeezes his arm gently. “You make it sound like a chore.” He looks around and then extends two fingers, smiling when Spock meets them with his own.
“You know,” he says, “the other me was very interested in how I knew you were injured from halfway across the ship.” He gives Spock a look. “They’re going to figure it out.”
“Perhaps. But I still think that they should come to the realisation in their own time, as we did.”
Jim snorts. “Yeah, and it only took us eight years.” He prods Spock gently. “Three of which, I might add, were you leaving me to pursue the kolinahr.”
“It was not my best decision,” Spock admits.
“You can say that again.” Jim shakes his head. “Still, it all worked out in the end.”
At that point they are interrupted by the arrival of their younger selves. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Kirk says with a grin.
“I, too, am relieved.” The younger Spock is really kind of adorable. Jim can still remember when his own Spock was that stiff and formal.
“He doesn’t remember anything about the attack,” Jim says, before they can ask.
“Nothing at all?” Kirk frowns.
“I’m afraid not,” Spock replies quietly.
The younger Spock steps forward. “It is likely the trauma of the attack.” He frowns in thought. “It is possible the memories are merely hidden, rather than missing. Perhaps a mindmeld-”
“No!” Spock cuts him off. The other three look at him.
“Why not?” Kirk asks, puzzled. “Is it dangerous?”
“There will be no danger,” the younger Spock tells him.
Spock looks uncomfortable. “I do not wish you to see my memories. It would be unwise for you to know too much about the future.” The look he sends Jim speaks volumes about which memories he is talking about.
“You showed me your memories before,” Kirk reasons.
“That was when I had control over which memories to show you. In this case, my control is somewhat lacking, and my counterpart will have to view numerous memories in order to discover those that are missing.”
“I will not view any memories you do not wish me to,” the younger Spock says indignantly.
“Are you certain you have that kind of discipline? Especially when dealing with a mind that is so similar to your own?”
Jim watches as their younger selves exchange glances. “Spock,” he says gently, “this might be the only way to find out what happened to you. What if the person who attacked you hurts someone else?”
Spock stares at him and Jim wishes there was another way to do this. If you keep resisting, you’re going to have to explain why, and the whole thing’ll become moot, Jim thinks, willing Spock to yield to the logic of the situation.
Finally he does, closing his eyes tightly. “Very well. If you are certain there is no other way.”
The younger Spock moves forward and places his fingertips on his counterpart’s face, closing his eyes in concentration.
Jim watches the two of them; Spock’s face grows paler as the meld continues, and he begins to clench his fists as the younger Spock’s expression slowly changes from concentration to shock. Just as Jim is considering stopping the meld, Spock’s counterpart moves away, wide-eyed.
“I can identify the attacker,” he manages, then turns and rapidly leaves the room. Kirk gives both Jim and Spock a slightly confused look before shrugging and following his first officer.
“I take it he knows, then?” Jim asks, after a moment.
“I made every effort to hide my memories.” Spock frowns. “But, as I feared, I was not completely successful.”
Jim sighs. “Well, this ought to be interesting.”
Next
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I'm particularly fond of this line. It always bugged me that there's no mention of Spock being blatantly emotional in the transmitted story in "Menagerie" (gods, that almost childish glee over a plant, so cute). I mean, I know that it's the first pilot and Spock was practically a human with pointed ears and eyebrows, and that Number One was the logical one. Still, I think they should have done something with that.
Off to read the rest.
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Yeah, Spock Prime's story is incredibly sad even before you add in outliving the love of your life by almost a century. He couldn't save Romulus, and then he couldn't save Vulcan either.
The pendant scene - once I heard about it I couldn't not include it. Like I said, it's hard to believe it's not something made up by the fic writers.
Kirk changing his eye colour on purpose did seem to be the simplest explanation - and it's the future, I'm sure they can do stuff like that. :)
I hope you like the rest of the fic!
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I'm looking forward to seeing where this is going :)
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And this!
He is slightly annoyed that his record for youngest captain in Starfleet has been broken, but there is a certain consolation in the fact that it was broken by himself.
Brilliant line/observation.
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I wonder who attacked Spock. I'll have to go on reading.
Science FTW!
BEHOLD - http://news.discovery.com/human/eye-color-change-111108.html
Re: Science FTW!
Re: Science FTW!