Jim had no idea why he was there. It was stupid and pointless. He knew that.
After he had returned to his time, without Spock, he’d gone to Spock’s apartment and found all that Spock had left behind. Even now it was empty, not rented by anyone else, because Spock had, apparently paid the rent well in advance, not wishing to bother with it. He’d been gone a year, and yet according to Jim’s now former apartment manager, the place was still leased for another six months.
Jim came there to this apartment in San Francisco every once in a while. Just to remind himself of Spock and yes, he knew it was crazy.
Here he was again. Just sitting on the couch, staring into space, wishing for something he couldn’t have.
He’d made himself coffee with the coffeemaker Spock bought for him. And that hurt his heart, to remember that.
When he came here, he brought food with him, cream for his coffee, and just soaked it up, he guessed.
Jim was pretty sure his dad understood. But he knew he got strange looks from Sam and his mom. Once Sam told him that he needed to move on and find love elsewhere, but Jim knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not for him.
Sometimes, Jim tried to reach Spock with his mind but nothing ever happened, and he knew Spock had somehow “shielded” things between them anyway.
Hope sprang eternal or so the saying claimed but he was fast losing any hope he’d ever had, which admittedly hadn’t been much.
With another six months on the lease here, Jim had to make the decision whether to continue coming or just give up. He’d never been one to give up before, but this situation was different. Spock was in the future and for all Jim knew he had forgotten there was any past.
I do not belong there, in your time.
Spock had made his position pretty clear. And he’d also made sure to have Jim go back to his time. Perhaps Spock paid more attention to Sarek than Jim thought he would.
He leaned his head back against the couch.
“This is stupid. You’re an idiot. Coming here for an entire year to an empty place that doesn’t even have a trace of Spock in it.”
Jim had spoken out loud.
There was no response, of course.
Jim woke in the dark sometime later, stretched out on his back on Spock’s bed. Next to the bed, on the floor, was an empty pizza box. Jim had pathetically stuffed his face before lying down.
He had no idea what had awakened him, so he stayed still, listening. It was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing. He’d left his cell phone on the table by the bed, so he reached blindly for it and activated it so he’d have a light.
He found a text from Sam.
Hey, are you doing okay?
It came through hours ago. He’d call Sam in the morning.
After a bit, he closed his eyes again, not able to figure out what woke him.
He slept again fitfully.
When he woke again, it was to fingers stroking across his face.
Jim blinked rapidly.
“Shh. T’hy’la, it is all right.”
One more to go, either tomorrow or Tuesday…we will see.