kirktastic | [Day 9 NVC] -- [All Things Must Come to an End] -- [Spock, Bones, and Jim]

Jim's body was nearing the end of its limits. He knew Bones wasn't doing much better, despite them patching each other up. Trying to get proper food in both of them had been less than easy - no replicators in the house. Sleep kept getting interrupted, and Spock was anything but gentle each time as the bond was getting tighter and tighter.

He could feel Spock in his head all the time, now. It made him uncomfortable, twitchy, and almost nauseous. This thing he hadn't asked for, didn't want.

He sat on the edge of the bed in the second bedroom, staring at the wall. Bones was asleep behind him, a slow deep breathing, and thank fuck so was Spock. Spock had passed out beside Nyota hours and hours ago, and Jim had taken it to try and sleep beside Bones.

...Except he couldn't. Too much was going through his head, over and over on replay. His head throbbed, like a muscle that had been over-exercised. The feeling of something... that feeling of something... it was clearer, now.

He knew he had to answer it, soon. He planned to talk to Bones when he woke up. There was... a lot they needed to talk about.

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It took longer than usual for him to open his eyes and acknowledge Leonard. The peace of his mind and of the bonds was tenuous at best, shaky, like balancing revolving dinner plates. But he could do it, Spock was sure (only he wasn't, didn't know how long it could last, how long he could stop himself from analyzing the situation).

"...I know his mind well, and I am attempting...I am forcing too much on him."

"Well fucking cut that shit out already," Bones growled, looking up at him, trying to catch his eye. "You need to think hard at someone, think at me for a little while, give him a break." The hypo pressed into Jim's skin, Bones trying to get every last droplet in there. He sat down heavily next to Jim, extended his legs out and tried to nestle Jim's head onto his lap where he could touch him better. Wasn't enough fucking food in Jim to throw up, though he might feel better if he could.

Another look at Spock. "How much longer we got here now that you're awake?" The bond were there but they weren't finished... unless his knowledge of them was pretty mistaken.

“You do not want me to do that, Leonard.” Spock said quietly, though not with the feral undercurrent from before. Even as he warned him, some feeling began to trickle through the bond between them like a tentative stream before the winter melt.

“…longer?” Spock looked at them, edged a little closer out of instinct more than anything. “The pon farr has ended, as far as my capabilities are concerned.”

"If it keeps you from hurting him, I don't care," Bones said back just as quiet, watching as Spock moved toward them. He could feel the bond probing harder and he tried not to wince at the sudden increase in pressure.

"What I'm asking is, can we leave?" Bones eyed Spock cautiously. "He needs food and sleep." Threading his fingers through Jim's hair, he closed his eyes, leaving back against the wall. "We both do." Bones knew he hadn't been thinking straight during the week, his mind as fucked up as his body. He needed to get away so he could think without Spock in his head... if that was possible anymore.

The pressure built slowly, emotion still raw and unrestrained coursing through him and into Leonard. “…you…may.” They could; Spock wouldn’t stop them. Yet he still wanted them to stay, yearned for their company and contact in a hopelessly illogical way. “You could acquire sleep here?” He ventured--some childish hope. “The couch is untouched. I can also arrange food. You would not be required to leave until you are properly healed…?” He inched a little nearer. (hopehopefearplease)

When his eyes were closed the thoughts jumbling inside his head coalesced better, tighter, into something more tangible. Spock wanted/needed them to stay, this wasn't done. Everything inside Bones said to grab Jim and run, but fuck... it was never going to be that easy again. Not as long as they'd feel him probing at them with his emotions.

Bones almost laughed. Spock's emotions. Oh fuck, what a fucking situation this was... "When you say properly healed - how long until this," he pointed at his head, "stops hurting so goddamned much?"

That's how he knew he was really tired - Bones hadn't cursed this much since med school.

Spock blinked at him—an honestly blank look, brief flickers of trying to find an answer but discovering there was none to be had.

“I—I am uncertain.” (pleasefearstay) “I could contact—perhaps my father—or my counterpart—or another friend—?” He was already beginning to cycle through those numbers, where was his communicator? Would they tell him anything? “I apologize for my ignorance on this but I had I known—if I had anticipated this—” A pause, a swallow, and then he looked away. It was useless. “…I don’t know, Leonard.”

Jim hadn't stopped listening, even if his head was starting to waver in and out of lalaland thanks to the hypo. It was a blessed sort of relief, because the drug was keeping Spock's emotions down to nearly nil while dropping his migraine back into just a headache.

He didn't open his eyes, didn't move his head from the warmth of Bones' lap and the hands that were soothing at his temples, but he did bring a hand up to squeeze at Bones' knee as an idea flared up, "...Spock. Other Spock."

Something made sense all at once.

Bones bent his head down to Jim's face. "What? You mean his counterpart?"

Surely Jim didn't mean the one with the beard. "You want him to talk to the other Spock?"

Wasn't even going to dare trying to open an eye, but he heard Bones' voice get closer. "...'member, told you about that weird feeling?" It had been a while... and a lot of pain killers on both their parts... and too much lack of sleep... but he hoped Bones remembered.

"The pulling," Bones answered quiet-like. Jim said something was pulling him here, to this planet. He'd thought it was this fucking bond. "What is it, Jim?"

"...wasn't this," Jim urged himself on, "...same thing drew me there... on Delta Vega."

"What... Delta Vega?" Bones was honestly confused now. That's where Jim had landed when they tossed him overboard. Where they picked up Scotty, later Keenser. Where Jim... fuck.

Fuck. The headaches. That fucking mind meld that had bothered Jim from the very beginning. "The old one," he murmured. "He's here."

Another fucking Vulcan who wanted inside Jim's head.

The slightest nod. which Jim regretted. "...He's here. He'd know." He turned his head inward, since it forced any bit of light away from his eyes.

"...Yeah, maybe," Bones replied, skeptical. He'd rather they asked someone he knew better, but Jim - Jim seemed to be feeling something there. Fucking pulling or whatever that shit was.

He looked up at Spock, eyes slightly narrowed. "Have you spoken to the older one, the one from Delta Vega?"

"Only in San Francisco." It was a thought train to distract him at least, remembering the ancient version of himself more than a century from his current again. ~~Would he even reach that age?~~ "I have not found the opportunity to communicate with him again."

"Well, Jim says he's here. Can you find him?" Bones was trying not to raise his voice, but the most distracted Spock became, the clearer his own mind seemed to get, the better able to focus on his own wants and needs.

"And food. Toast and some fruit." Bones held Jim's head again. "And anything with electrolytes."

[Day 9 NVC] -- [All Things Must Come to an End] -- [Spock, Bones, and Jim]

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