Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Flash Fic Friday doesn’t start until next week, but I decided to post an old one-shot of mine to get the ball rolling. This debuted in my original One-Shot Collection way back in 2014 now.

“I’m sorry, Spock.”

Jim looked out over the balcony at the ocean, a breeze ruffling his hair, and chilling his body. What did it matter anyway?

“I should have been able to save you.”

He closed his eyes, letting the tears squeeze out and onto his cheeks. For a moment, maybe several, he just stood there letting the tears fall. He already felt like he’d been crying for days. He thought maybe he’d be crying forever.

Opening his eyes, he stared down into the cup of Vulcan tea he held in his hands. Jesus, he didn’t think he could handle this. This was too much.

“Jim? You should come back inside. It’s freezing out there.”

“I don’t care, Bones.”

The sliding door opened all the way. “Yeah, well, as your doctor and your friend, I do care. Get your ass back inside.”

Jim sighed and drank the last sips of the tea and followed Bones into the apartment. He shielded his eyes against the lights. “Does it have to be so fucking bright in here?”

“Lights 25%,” Bones called out and the lights dimmed. “Better?”

His throat felt raw. Hell he felt raw all over. ‘Yeah. I need more tea.”

“You gonna do nothing but drink that Vulcan tea? When was the last time you ate?”

“The-the day he died.”

“Jesus, Jim.” Bones went into the kitchen ahead of him. “Let me fix you something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“The hell you aren’t.” Bones scowled. “There was nothing you could have done, Jim.”

“Bones—”

“Nothing. And no one—not Spock or anyone—blames you.”

“This is so much harder than I ever thought it would be,” Jim said softly, his breath hitching. “I knew—when it happened…if it did—it would be horrible. But this. God. It’s like I’m being torn apart, Bones.”

“It’s going to be all right, Jim. Once you get past the funeral, maybe it will ease a bit.”

“How can it? It’s…it’s Spock.”

Bones eyes softened. “I know, kid. Sit down. I’ll bring you something to eat and some more of that tea.”

Jim sat at the dining room table in Bones’ apartment. His head pounded. His heart felt like it was being torn from his chest.

Spock.

The door of the apartment opened. Jim stood, breath caught in his throat. Hoping. Begging.

“T’hy’la.”

Jim’s breath came out in a rush as he flung himself at Spock, who wrapped his arms around him so tight, Jim thought it might break his ribs and he didn’t care. The tears came as Spock held him. All the love Spock felt, came through the bond at him, and Jim let it heal him, help him.

“I am sorry it took me so long to make it here,” Spock said softly, kissing Jim’s forehead. “I could not get an earlier shuttle from New Vulcan.”

“You’re here now.”

“I grieve with thee.”

“I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Spock kissed him again. “My counterpart lived a long life, Ashaya. I am certain that he is happy to be with his own T’hy’la again.”

Jim pulled back, his eyes filled with tears. “Do you think they are together again?”

“I am certain.”

“I hope so.” He hugged Spock again. “God, it’s like losing you. I can’t bear that.”

“I am here, Jim. I will always be with you.” Spock took his hands. “Come, I know you have not eaten for days. Dr. McCoy has made you something. Will you eat for us?”

Jim nodded. “Okay.”

And though Jim knew he’d lost one Spock, his own Spock–his precious T’hy’la–was here with him. And would be for many years to come.