Fic: Three Months Gone, 1/1. Kirk/Spock.
Sep. 21st, 2009 09:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katydidmischief posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cjs_owndisclaimer. Not mine. Never have been and I'll only ever be playing in the sandbox.
title. Three Months Gone
rating. PG-13
Pairing. Kirk/Spock
summary. He'd needed them, too emotionally drained from the loss of his mate, and they'd ignored him.
warnings. Main Character Death.
notes. Written for this prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
st_xi_kink.
Bones explains it to them while crammed in his office, Jim laid out unconsciously on one of the biobeds while Grayson and Shiloh sit worriedly in chairs beside their father's slumbering form.
"He never grieved - he went from waking up that morning with Spock, to being a single dad by bedtime. Jim just plowed on, the goddamn bastard," McCoy mutters, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes.
Fucking Jim and his fucking pride... If he'd said he was overwhelmed, if he'd asked for help, McCoy would have been there in an instant; Jim was his best friend and a widower to boot, with two rambunctious (though not as much lately) sons barely out of toddlerhood. Instead, Jim's been doing it all on his own: taking care of the kids and doing his job including first contact missions, sacrificing care of himself in the process.
Sacrificing it so far as to collapse from exhaustion and grief on the bridge, Bones thinks, saying aloud, "He needs rest, food, and a few days downtime. And as much as I hate the say it, Jim needs a couple of days without the boys."
Uhura scoffs inaudibly at the mere idea of parting Jim from either of his sons; after Spock had been killed in the ambush, Jim had drawn Grayson and Shiloh close. He lets them out of his sight when he goes on shift and when they have to attend to their schooling, but otherwise, both boys are normally with him.
McCoy sits up some, glancing between the senior staff. They're Jim's friends all, yet they haven't acted like it as of late - they've been so busy grieving themselves, shedding their tears and wallowing in their bitterness for the last three months while Jim had struggled to get out of bed. What kind of friends were they? He'd needed them, too emotionally drained from the loss of his mate, and they'd ignored him.
"He may not like it, but he needs it and if he's unwilling to take care of his needs, then we're going to have to do it for him," Bones tells her, guilty coloring his eyes. He's the CMO of the ship and they're not working on the edge of space anymore: he has the time these days, on their second mission that's still plenty dangerous, but doesn't have nearly as many missions gone wrong or battles as they used to. It's why they've got kids on board at all; it's why Spock's death has hit them all so hard.
"Well, he's here until morning, right?" Sulu asks.
Bones lifts an eyebrow, crossing his arms in an amused gesture. "Seeing as I'll be strapping him to that bed if he so much as blinks an eye at me before oh-nine-hundred, yes.”
“Then, Nyota, do you think you can take the boys tonight?” Hikaru looks at his partner, giving Chekov a sad look as he adds, “Their quarters... Spock used to keep it clean and Jim's been wearing the same shirt for three days. We'll clean it out, get the laundry going.”
Chekov nods heavily, clearly feeling the same guilt as McCoy, the same guilt as Sulu and Uhura and Scott; when he leaves a few minutes later, following behind his lover, his feet drag and he cannot bear to look at Jim as he crosses the treatment room. Scotty leaves a few minutes later, having said little the entire time he was there, and McCoy knows the Engineer's still dealing with Spock's noticeable absence – they'd grown unexpectedly close through the years, so the Vulcan's death hit him particularly hard.
It leaves Uhura alone with McCoy, her face pinched and sad. She'd been with Jim at the moment Spock's heart stopped and she's the only one who's said all along that they need some shore leave, a memorial, time to spend together – something – that could let Jim have a second to be the grief-stricken widow he'd been burying within himself.
She sucks in a breath, her voice cracking and her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she asks, “Do you miss him?”
“Yes,” Bones answers without hesitation or reluctance.
For all their arguments and name calling, for all the butting of heads they'd done, McCoy had been devastated when Spock's body had given out right under his hands. He'd cried for the man, shedding tears for the first time since he had learned that his father's death had been needless, and he still feels a level of despair when he thinks about Spock.
“Yes,” he says again, slapping one hand onto the brushed metal top of his desk to distract himself from the lump forming in his throat. He looks away then and remarks, “Get on home. Take those boys with you.”
Thankfully, she goes without saying anything more, so there is no one to see the tear that slips free. He blames it on his own exhaustion, but it tastes a lie as an image of Spock holding Shiloh pops into his head and another tear wets his cheek.
title. Three Months Gone
rating. PG-13
Pairing. Kirk/Spock
summary. He'd needed them, too emotionally drained from the loss of his mate, and they'd ignored him.
warnings. Main Character Death.
notes. Written for this prompt at
st_xi_kink.Bones explains it to them while crammed in his office, Jim laid out unconsciously on one of the biobeds while Grayson and Shiloh sit worriedly in chairs beside their father's slumbering form.
"He never grieved - he went from waking up that morning with Spock, to being a single dad by bedtime. Jim just plowed on, the goddamn bastard," McCoy mutters, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes.
Fucking Jim and his fucking pride... If he'd said he was overwhelmed, if he'd asked for help, McCoy would have been there in an instant; Jim was his best friend and a widower to boot, with two rambunctious (though not as much lately) sons barely out of toddlerhood. Instead, Jim's been doing it all on his own: taking care of the kids and doing his job including first contact missions, sacrificing care of himself in the process.
Sacrificing it so far as to collapse from exhaustion and grief on the bridge, Bones thinks, saying aloud, "He needs rest, food, and a few days downtime. And as much as I hate the say it, Jim needs a couple of days without the boys."
Uhura scoffs inaudibly at the mere idea of parting Jim from either of his sons; after Spock had been killed in the ambush, Jim had drawn Grayson and Shiloh close. He lets them out of his sight when he goes on shift and when they have to attend to their schooling, but otherwise, both boys are normally with him.
McCoy sits up some, glancing between the senior staff. They're Jim's friends all, yet they haven't acted like it as of late - they've been so busy grieving themselves, shedding their tears and wallowing in their bitterness for the last three months while Jim had struggled to get out of bed. What kind of friends were they? He'd needed them, too emotionally drained from the loss of his mate, and they'd ignored him.
"He may not like it, but he needs it and if he's unwilling to take care of his needs, then we're going to have to do it for him," Bones tells her, guilty coloring his eyes. He's the CMO of the ship and they're not working on the edge of space anymore: he has the time these days, on their second mission that's still plenty dangerous, but doesn't have nearly as many missions gone wrong or battles as they used to. It's why they've got kids on board at all; it's why Spock's death has hit them all so hard.
"Well, he's here until morning, right?" Sulu asks.
Bones lifts an eyebrow, crossing his arms in an amused gesture. "Seeing as I'll be strapping him to that bed if he so much as blinks an eye at me before oh-nine-hundred, yes.”
“Then, Nyota, do you think you can take the boys tonight?” Hikaru looks at his partner, giving Chekov a sad look as he adds, “Their quarters... Spock used to keep it clean and Jim's been wearing the same shirt for three days. We'll clean it out, get the laundry going.”
Chekov nods heavily, clearly feeling the same guilt as McCoy, the same guilt as Sulu and Uhura and Scott; when he leaves a few minutes later, following behind his lover, his feet drag and he cannot bear to look at Jim as he crosses the treatment room. Scotty leaves a few minutes later, having said little the entire time he was there, and McCoy knows the Engineer's still dealing with Spock's noticeable absence – they'd grown unexpectedly close through the years, so the Vulcan's death hit him particularly hard.
It leaves Uhura alone with McCoy, her face pinched and sad. She'd been with Jim at the moment Spock's heart stopped and she's the only one who's said all along that they need some shore leave, a memorial, time to spend together – something – that could let Jim have a second to be the grief-stricken widow he'd been burying within himself.
She sucks in a breath, her voice cracking and her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she asks, “Do you miss him?”
“Yes,” Bones answers without hesitation or reluctance.
For all their arguments and name calling, for all the butting of heads they'd done, McCoy had been devastated when Spock's body had given out right under his hands. He'd cried for the man, shedding tears for the first time since he had learned that his father's death had been needless, and he still feels a level of despair when he thinks about Spock.
“Yes,” he says again, slapping one hand onto the brushed metal top of his desk to distract himself from the lump forming in his throat. He looks away then and remarks, “Get on home. Take those boys with you.”
Thankfully, she goes without saying anything more, so there is no one to see the tear that slips free. He blames it on his own exhaustion, but it tastes a lie as an image of Spock holding Shiloh pops into his head and another tear wets his cheek.
