Chapter Text
Sitting on the couch in the hotel suite together having their tea gave Spock a chance to really study Jim. He was still bruised and battered from his recent battles with Nero and his crew. There was even slight finger shaped bruising around his throat. Spock was well aware that had come from his young counterpart.
There was still an element of weary sorrow in those unfamiliar blue eyes. Spock supposed his most recent meld with Jim had not helped with that.
“Have you spoken with your mother since you returned to Earth?”
“Yeah, a little bit. Just before the assembly. She was glad to know I was in one piece.” Jim smiled crookedly. “Somewhat.”
“That reminds me. Did you get your injuries checked?”
“Bones came at me with at least a dozen hypos. I’m okay.”
Spock hesitated, but the said, softly, “You do not have to be strong for me, Jim.”
Jim shook his head. “Maybe not. But I have to be strong for me.”
“Oh?”
“Nobody else will be, you know?” Jim shrugged.
Spock realized in this last meld with Jim, he’d gotten some transference from Jim as well. He frowned. “Your stepfather…”
Jim snorted. “That bastard. Gone, thankfully.” At Spock’s raised eyebrows, Jim smirked. “Not dead or anything. Just dumped by Mom. She had enough after I got back from Tar…somewhere he sent me.”
“Tarsus IV.”
Jim’s gaze flew to Spock’s face. “How did you…oh. He-um-he went there?”
“Indeed. Under decidedly different circumstances. His mother had a job there and Jim went to live with her. He witnessed the atrocities Kodos inflicted on the citizens.” Spock paused. “As did you?”
“Mm. My stepfather had a sister working on Tarsus IV. He sent me to stay there after Sam left and he couldn’t handle me by himself since Mom was off planet. She did her best, being sent some kid she didn’t even know, and she wasn’t really like Frank, thankfully, but it was just a bad place. Anyway, after it was all over, Mom flipped out and got rid of his ass.”
Spock nodded. “For that I am glad. Too bad she did not before he hurt you.”
Jim shrugged. “Water under the bridge, right?”
Spock studied Jim’s face. He didn’t exactly look like he was about to cave in from stress or grief, and yet, Spock knew that somehow during their last meld Jim had done something. His own stress and grief was quite muted. An interesting experience.
Most humans were psi-null and should not be able to do what Jim clearly must have.
“I would like to examine your mind, if you have no objection.”
He expected that Jim would question him, but somewhat to Spock’s surprise, Jim hesitated only briefly before nodding.
“I wish to ascertain if I did harm to you when we melded earlier,” Spock found himself explaining anyway.
Jim nodded again. “You didn’t but go ahead.”
Still as Spock put his fingers on Jim’s face he hesitated to delve into this human’s mind. Jim, of all beings, he never wished to harm. And this Jim, despite his protestations, was more vulnerable than Spock was used to.
He must have hesitated too long though because Jim sighed and looked more than a little exasperated. “I’m not as fragile as you seem to think.”
“You are not at all fragile in my mind, Jim. Please do not misunderstand. I believe you to be extremely brave and strong. I am merely perplexed.”
“Well that’s nothing new,” Jim said jokingly. “I perplex lots of people.”
Spock’s lips twitched. “What I mean is…there was emotional transference this time as there was in our initial meld on Delta Vega, but…”
“But?”
“The transference was not the same.” Spock took a deep breath. “It was more as though I transferred much of my grief, the brunt of it, to…you.” He shook his head. “It is not, by no means, gone but it is very much muted. Quite manageable. I have not experienced the like before. And it should not be possible.”
“No?”
“At least with a psi-null individual. Which is why I would like to examine your mind. You will feel nothing but perhaps a certain light pressure.”
“I’ve already given you permission, Spock. Do what you will.” Jim smiled faintly. “For some reason, I trust you.”
“I am gratified.”
Seeing no other reason to delay, Spock’s fingertips pressed into the meld points on Jim’s cheek and he whispered the words, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts.”
Last time there had been just the barest of pushback from Jim’s brain when Spock melded with him on Delta Vega, but this time, that hesitance was gone and he joined his mind with Jim’s easily.
At first Spock was hit with Jim’s thoughts and memories at a frenetic pace, lashing at him like waves on sand, but Spock pushed back, gently, soothingly, until the waves because soft, gentle, and allowed Spock to move past them, with a sense of calm sympathy for some of it.
But Spock pressed on, searching for his own memories, his own grief, and where it had been stashed away. It took a bit but he found it, safely stored, as though behind a door, Jim’s own mind protected from the worst of it himself, but saved and cherished from Spock’s.
And as he continued to examine this safe place behind a figurative door in Jim’s mind, Spock came to realize that Jim had acted as an empath had, taking on that tremendous grief Spock felt, and yet not removing it, but making it manageable, and for them both.
At first he was surprised that Jim had such an empathetic ability, but the more he searched through the enigmatic landscape there, the more the knowledge of why occurred to him.
T’hy’la.
It should have occurred to him that any Jim Kirk would be his, Spock’s, T’hy’la, and therefore capable of such things with him. But not with just anyone, since, in truth, normally he was psi-null.
His own Jim, the one from his universe, had never become this advanced in this technique. Perhaps he had fought the connection more than this young Jim had, and in the end Spock had so little time with the Jim from his time. And less time, Spock supposed, with this one.
And yet any time spent with Jim Kirk was to be treasured above all things.
He could tell that Jim was tiring, and so, with some reluctance, Spock retreated, though he should like to spend hours melded with this extraordinary mind, until he had withdrawn entirely, but not without leaving an intimate caress there that Spock hoped would soothe Jim for some time to come.
When Spock lowered his hand from Jim’s face, Jim opened his eyes, gazing at Spock with eyes as blue as the ocean waves he’d come across in Jim’s mind.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yes, I did.”
For so many years, Jim, you do not know.
But Spock did not say that out loud. Would not unjustly burden one so young, who would be moving into a different future than the one Spock was about to embark on.
Not for the first time, Spock could only think that his young counterpart was a fool, and he hoped, that in time, he would realize it himself. He made a note to speak with the younger one on the morrow before he himself departed for the colony.
“There is no damage to your mind from our earlier meld, and in fact, you are quite remarkable in your compatibility with mine,” Spock said, choosing not to tell him more than that.
“And the emotional transference of your grief?”
“You have handled it well.” Spock paused. “How do you feel?”
“Good.” Jim smiled. “I’m not overwhelmed if that’s what you think. Not like the last time.”
“Excellent. I can tell, though, that I have made you tired, and I believe we should return to bed.”
“Yeah?”
“For sleep.”
Jim chuckled at that. “I’m pretty sure I can sleep tomorrow or whatever. But I definitely agree to returning to bed.”
When they returned to the bedroom, Spock found himself unexpectedly hungry to be with Jim again, in this physical sense, and so they came together, naked and urgent, moving together and within, parting and never parted.
They were finally forced to rest, with Spock lying on his back, holding Jim close to him, stroking the young human’s back as he dozed off in Spock’s arms.
“T’hy’la,” he whispered, when he was certain Jim slept.
But of course, Jim asked, “What is that anyway?”
“It is my hope, that someday you will know,” Spock answered, tightening his hold on Jim.
Finally, Jim did fall asleep, but Spock did not, not completely. His mind was too full of memories past, and the new ones he had just made. He had not anticipated holding Jim Kirk in his arms again, for that life had been over for some time. It was Spock’s experience that one’s existence was made up of several lives lead. His young life, his Starfleet life, his life with Jim, his ambassadorial duties, and now this, whatever this was, and however long he had.
And this, this moment was a gift he would treasure for the rest of his days.
“I love you.”
He spoke softly so that he would not wake Jim, but he put his fingers on Jim’s face once more so that the love would be felt.
****
Jim wasn’t entirely surprised he woke alone. He suspected the older Spock wasn’t very good at goodbyes. For that matter, neither was Jim.
He found a note.
This place is yours for the day. No need to leave until six this evening. I have arranged it for you. There is appropriate food for you waiting in the kitchen. You have my gratitude and my affection, always.
Spock.
Jim made his way out to the kitchen and saw there was a breakfast spread the likes of which could have fed ten people. And a carafe of coffee. He went for that, poured himself a cup and wandered to the sliding glass window. He took the coffee with him out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. He could see Starfleet Academy and then HQ beyond that.
Jim closed his eyes, touched his temple, feeling the fleeting touch of Spock.
T’hy’la.