#spock starts LAUGHING and hims head SNAPS to look at him and less than a second later hes STRIDING over to spock

[kirksfattitties]

i know i’ve posted a clip from this before but the full scene is REALLY something

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 8

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

Maybe after all the shit Gavin had experienced ever since he’d been dragged from his prison cell back on Earth, he should have been used to giant related weirdness. He’d been held in a fist, toted around in a cage, and pinned down to the ground by a massive hand. In theory, riding around in Rael’s hand wasn’t that much stranger in comparison. And yet, Gavin felt unimaginably uncomfortable with his current position.

It wasn’t really that Gavin felt he was in any particular danger. Weirdly enough, he actually believed Rael’s claim that he would be careful. No, he wouldn’t say he was necessarily afraid. What he was feeling had more to do with the fact that he was almost surrounded on all sides by one single person. He was sitting on Rael’s palm, with the alteon’s chest behind him and his other hand directly in front of him. Not to mention the fact that the guy’s head loomed far above, able to look down at the person in his hand whenever he wanted. Long story short, Gavin felt smothered. And what was weirder than being smothered? Being smothered by the same person who had so far expressed nothing but distaste and disinterest in him since their first meeting.

“I guess it's an improvement from threatening to crush me,” Gavin thought to himself. He supposed this was preferable. The problem was, he didn’t know how to respond to this kind of behavior. Gavin was an expert at reacting to people not liking him much. Even if he knew Rael did like him, he might have some idea of what to do and what to say. However, Gavin couldn’t make heads or tails of how the big guy felt!

“Uh, I guess I should thank you for saving me,” Gavin finally said, breaking the silence that had developed ever since they’d departed from the stream. He fidgeted, trying not to think about the fact that the thing he was sitting on was literally alive. “Maybe this would seem less weird if I’d ever ridden a horse before…”

Rael didn’t take his eyes off the path in front of him aside from shooting a quick glance down at his passenger. “I was just doing my job,” he stated.

Maybe Gavin was getting ahead of himself thinking he’d made any progress with Rael. Maybe the guy really was just doing his job, and any increased kindness Gavin had detected was just an extension of his job.

As pathetic as it undoubtedly was, Gavin didn’t want to believe Rael really didn’t give a rat’s ass about him. He was completely alone in this dimension, cut off from anyone and everyone who had given at least half a shit about him. And so maybe Gavin was desperate to find someone he could imagine was on his side. He wanted a friend, and Rael was quite literally his only option. “God, I need to snap out of it! I’m supposed to be a hardened criminal damn it!”

Gavin craned his neck to look up at Rael’s face. “Well, I gotta admit, you were pretty badass back there.” It was very uncommon for Gavin to root for any type of law enforcement, for obvious reasons, but for once he was on the side of authority. How ironic was it that he, a thief who had been undone by his own greed, had almost been abducted in order to satisfy someone else’s greed? Fate really was a funny thing, huh?

A perplexed expression crossed over Rael’s face. “Badass? That’s intended as some form of compliment, correct?”

Gavin had to stifle a chuckle. He kind of forgot the alteon only had a very vague knowledge of human slang. He suddenly felt like he was holding a conversation with Spock, Rael even had the pointy ears to match. “Yeah...it sort of means you were impressively tough,” Gavin explained.

Rael gave a small nod of understanding. “I see, well...thank you I suppose.” The little note of awkwardness in his voice was enough to cause Gavin to break out in a grin. Rael sounded like a person and not some giant robot of formality and meanness.

Unwilling to let the break in Rael’s facade go to waste, Gavin initiated his mouth’s blab feature. “You know, next to that Kaydin guy, you’re like a saint,” he started, not even realizing he was now reclining back in Rael’s palm. “I’d pick hanging out with you over him anyday.”

With a light scoff, Rael rolled his eyes. “Being preferable over a brigand like that man is not as high of praise as you seem to think it is,” he said, though his tone was lacking in any real bite.

Gavin snickered. “I guess so, but to be fair I’ve only ever met three alteons.” None of them had made an especially great impression though, so he was beginning to think a part of alteon culture was just being naturally shitty at introductions. Of course, Gavin couldn’t really judge, he wouldn’t say he was all that great at first impression either.

“I’m surprised you weren’t more taken with the ruffians, considering you’re both criminals and all,” Rael replied, a nearly imperceptible smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, not all criminals get along. That is a very common misconception,” Gavin stated matter-of-factly.

Rael snorted. Gavin was surprised someone like him could even make such a casual sound. “How very educational you are,” he said, sending another brief glance down at the human in his hands.

Gavin could hardly believe what was happening. He was actually taking part in back and forth banter with Rael, the guy who had seemed like an impenetrable stone wall of crankiness. If Gavin closed his eyes and ignored the feeling of flesh beneath him, he could almost imagine he was talking to a human and not an eighty foot colossus.

-

Rael had no idea what the hell he was doing. It was almost as if he’d been possessed or something, because he never would have imagined himself engaging in repartee with a human of all people. And yet somehow, it felt so natural and effortless. Rael would never consider himself a particularly talkative person, but with Gavin carrying the bulk of the conversation, it was easy to keep banter going.

Honestly, Rael wasn’t even sure what had triggered the change in his own behavior. Perhaps seeing the human’s life threatened by another alteon had had some kind of mirror effect. It was possible that witnessing the fear Kaydin inflicted upon Gavin had given Rael a new perspective on his own threatening behaviors.

Kaydin had obviously been the villain in the scenario. Did that mean Rael was the villain in his previous interactions with Gavin? He was a member of the Imperial Guard, he was supposed to be a hero--but it was becoming increasingly clear that he hadn’t been acting as such.

“I do not get paid enough to do this much self reflection on the job,” Rael thought sourly. This whole situation would be a lot simpler if he could just keep on ignoring Gavin and disregarding his feelings. It was a shame his conscience had gotten so loud all of a sudden.

“It is kind of flattering that I’m apparently so valuable that that guy was about ready to risk it all to get his hands on me,” Gavin said. Rael looked down to see a playful smirk on the little guy’s lips.

While Gavin had obviously been intending to be humorous, Rael couldn’t help but frown slightly. It was troubling how desperate Kaydin had been to get a hold of a human. What was even more troubling, was that Rael knew the desperation was sensible. Gavin would fetch a hefty sum on the black market, and Rael could only imagine the sort of things one might want to buy a human for. After the encounter with Kaydin and his partner, Rael wouldn’t be assured of Gavin’s safety until they were within the palace walls.

“You’re currently the only human in this realm, that makes you something of a rarity,” Rael told Gavin.

Most alteons had never seen a human in real life before, and unless things changed drastically, most never would. Typically, only those close to the Emperor were able to even catch a glimpse, hence why it was something of a status symbol. Of course, Rael had never really seen it that way himself.

“I guess I should feel honored,” Gavin quipped. “Although, the fact that I’m a prisoner kind of ruins things.” Rael fought the urge to twitch as he felt the human reposition himself on his palm. He still couldn’t believe such a tiny body could hold such a large personality.

“Perhaps crime doesn’t pay quite as much as you thought,” Rael retorted. He still found it stunning that the little guy he was currently holding in his hand had managed to rob an alteon.

Gavin scoffed. “Hey, it paid just fine until I took the diplomat job.” That caught Rael’s attention. He had been under the impression that Gavin had stolen the ring from the diplomat for himself, likely with the intention of selling it. However, the way Gavin had phrased it made it seem as though he had done it at someone else’s request.

“Wait, someone hired you to steal that ring?” Rael inquired, his gaze jumping back and forth from looking ahead and looking down at Gavin.

A dry laugh came from the human as he leaned back on his hands. “Like I ever would’ve thought of stealing from an alteon myself,” he said sarcastically. “Obviously someone hired me to do it.”

Rael’s eyebrows shot up. So Gavin had just been doing someone else’s dirty work? What he’d done had still been illegal, but still, wasn’t the one who had employed him the one truly in the wrong? “You took the fall for the one who hired you?”

Gavin gave a shrug. “Not exactly, but I didn’t know the real name of the guy who gave me the job, so there was no point even bothering to tell the cops.” He said it so nonchalantly. Did he not realize he might not be in the situation he was in, being escorted to the Emperor by an alteon, had his employer been identified and arrested?

“You don’t seem to care all that much,” Rael noted.

“I chose to take the job when I didn’t have to, blaming it on someone else isn’t gonna help anything,” Gavin replied. Rael was stunned by how...mature he was being. Initially, Gavin had struck him as nothing more than an honorless thief, devoid of any sense of responsibility. And yet here he was, accepting culpability for his own actions even when there was a perfect scapegoat right there for him to blame.

“Will wonders never cease,” Rael breathed.

“What?” Gavin called up. Rael had forgotten how sensitive to even the quietest noises human ears were.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

[illogicalpunkwrites]

The Cave

Long time no see! Sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been in grad school and it’s pretty much sucked the life out of me. But I really missed writing so I figured I could write for my favorite character. Thank you so much for reading! Pairings: Leonard McCoy x Kirk!Reader

*Part two is here

Words: 4.8K

Warnings: injury, fluff, angst (?), swearing, badly written fight scene, Leonard and Reader being stubborn shits, Spock being a cocky shit

Tags: @bloodangelballerina @theweepingvulcan91​ If anyone else would like to be added let me know!

“Captain.” Spock greeted as he caught up to his friend. Jim clapped him on the shoulder. “I must commend you and Commander Kirk on your success in Nuvaruta. Not many would have been able to complete that mission.” 

“Eh, nothing we couldn’t handle. I’m just surprised she didn’t drop the artifact when she got hit!” Jim laughed. 

“Well, it was only a flesh wound. A woman of her position is surely used to it by now. No need to worry about her.” An ensign brushed by Jim, yelping out an apology. 

“She’s still my sister, Spock. Head of security or not, I always worry about her.”

“And captain or not, she will always worry about you.” 

“Well-” They both got quiet when they reached medbay, hearing yelling and seeing Nurse Chapel waiting outside the door, acting like nothing was happening and playing with her nails.

“Nurse Chapel, is everything alright?” Spock asked and she looked up at the science officer. 

“Oh, just the same thing every time Commander Kirk comes back from a mission.” Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“How many times are you gonna be in my damn medbay! I swear you get hurt more in a day than an ensign does in a whole year!” Leonard bit and you rolled your eyes. 

“How many times are you gonna complain every time you see me? I said thank you!” You replied. “You act like I’m ungrateful!”

“No you’re just stubborn as a bull!”

“Pot calling kettle black!” You laughed incredulously. “It’s in my job description to get hurt, it’s in yours to patch me up! But you can’t do that without henpecking at me every damn time!” 

Jim, Spock, and Christine all waited outside. By this point in the mission, they all knew that it was better to just wait it out than to break it up. 

“Henpecking?”

“Yes! I swear you like it when I come in because it gives you something to gripe about!”

“No because you coming in pushes me that much closer to an ulcer! Just get outta my medbay, I got work to do!”

“Gladly!” You walked out of medbay, looking to see the three waiting outside. “Hey.”

“Alright, c’mon. I need your report.” You and Jim walked away, leaving Christine and Spock near medbay. They walked in to see Leonard sitting at his desk with his forehead in his hand. 

“Doctor, are you alright?’ Christine asked and he sighed. 

“Yes, Nurse Chapel. I’m fine.” He replied. “Whaddya need, Spock?”

“I came here with no intention to talk to you, but now it seems I have. I would like to talk to you about Commander Kirk. Why is it that you two argue so much?” The vein in Leonard’s forehead seemed like it was about to pop as he turned to face the Vulcan. 

“Because she’s stubborn and reckless, that’s why!”

“As are you.” Christine looked at Spock with her eyebrows raised and stepped back a bit when Leonard stood up.

“I am not!”

“You are, which is why I am confused. Of course, you are not as reckless as Commander Kirk but you are as much if not more stubborn. You both share a drier sense of humor, both care a great deal about those you work with-”

“What’s your point, Spock?”

“I believe you become irritated when she’s hurt because you care for her. The more she gets hurt, the more irritable you become. There’s a remarkable amount of tension between you two.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back as Leonard walked up to him. “You are simply worried about her and are too stubborn to admit your feelings for her. Meaning it comes out in irritation and rage, making her angry and irritable.” 

“I don’t like her.”

“I think Commander Spock has a point...Doctor.” Christine interjected. “I think you’re also frustrated because you feel like you can’t like her. She is the Captain’s sister after all.”

“Good point, Nurse Chapel.” Spock commended. “It seems that she might be forbidden to our doctor.”

“A forbidden fruit, if you will.” Christine offered and Spock raised an eyebrow at her. Leonard rubbed his temples and she tried to hide her smile from him. 

“Spock, aren’t you needed on the bridge?”

“Oh no, not for some time.”

XXXXXX

Crew-

We are headed down to the planet of Thurilia. It is a barren planet that has not been inhabited in over 100 years but it carries another artifact integral to the Nimbus mission. Don’t mistake it’s barrenness for peace, there are hostile Romulans also looking for the artifact. We must also be wary of dust storms and flying debris from crash landed ships. For this mission I will require Commander Kirk, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy.  

“Got everything you need, lass?” You finished attaching your phaser, communicator, and collapsible kali. You missed your regular uniform, all of you required to wear a more suitable and impenetrable to the suffocating dust. It was too bulky for your liking but you knew it was more practical. 

“Ready, Scotty. Just make sure to remember to beam us up.” You clapped his shoulder and jogged over to the teleporter. Of course, the only spot was next to Leonard. “Dr. McCoy.”

“Commander.” You noticed Spock looking over at the two of you and you furrowed your brows at him. 

“Ready, Scotty.” Jim stated. You would never get used to the tingling of the teleporter. It would always be a strange sensation no matter how many times you used it. You all landed on the planet and you wondered if it made Spock feel the least bit homesick. It was a desert, but the sand was purple and the sky always dark. 

“Alright, everyone make sure your masks work. We’ll only have a little bit of warning before a storm kicks in. Lieutenant Uhura will be watching that for us. It gives off a a chemical signature but that’ll be hard to pinpoint with the dust and the crash sites. If you spot any romulans, call for backup and don’t fight them alone.”

“Should we go off in pairs, Captain?”

“I think we should. Might attract less attention and we might find it faster.”

“I shall go with you then, Captain.” You and Leonard’s heads snapped up from your tricorders. 

“Of course, Mr. Spock.” 

“Jim are you sure splitting up is the best idea?” You replied and Jim patted you on the shoulder. 

“Of course. I want you two to go northeast towards the strongest signature. Spock and I will go southwest towards the strongest signature.” The two walked away, leaving you and Leonard standing dumbfounded. 

“That green blooded hobgoblin.” Leonard muttered under his breath as you started following the signature. 

“You comin’ or not?” You called over your shoulder. He jogged up to catch up with you and pulled out his own tricorder. You were both silent, the only sounds coming from the wind and the robes you were wearing flapping. 

“How’s your shoulder?” He asked and you looked over at him quickly.

“It’s much better now, thank you.” He nodded. However, he wasn’t looking where he was stepping and felt his foot sinking down quickly. “Leonard!” The sand felt like it was grappling him, staining his robes a deep purple against the brown. You grabbed his arms and started to pull him out, your feet lacking traction and eventually you resorted to digging your knees in and pulling him along as he kicked. The grip loosened and he fell on top of you, pushing you into the sand. He quickly rolled off of you and panted like a wild dog. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, this is why I hate space.” He replied and you chuckled. 

“Welp, gives you one more thing to complain about.” You stood up, dusting off your robes and offered your hand to him. “Watch where you’re stepping.” 

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” He took it and you helped him up. “This place is a death trap.”

“I dunno, I kinda like it.” You responded. “If you look closely, the sand sparkles a bit.”

“I just got a close look, or have you already forgotten?” You rolled your eyes and kept following the signature. 

“You could’ve gotten a closer look had I not been here.” The two of you were silent save for the wind and the beeping of your tricorders. It was so peaceful yet destructive at the same time. No one could possibly live there, it had claimed the lives of so many and had become a resting ground for pieces of space travel. But the silence, the stars, it was beautiful in a way. 

“Commander, Doctor, I’m picking up a storm. Might want to head for cover.” Uhura informed over your communicators. 

“See any structures?” Leonard asked. You squinted down at your tricorder, the sandy wind already picking up. 

“There’s a cave near us, if we hurry we can get there before it gets too bad!” You called back. As you traveled, it became increasingly difficult to move or see. You had to trust your tricorder and stick close to Leonard.

Suddenly, something whizzed by in front of the both of you. 

Then another.

“Hurry!” You called back and grabbed his hand. From what you can guess, pieces of a nearby ship had begun to fly off. Each piece nearly missed you by mere feet. At least for a little bit.

“Ah!” Leonard cried and faltered a bit.

“We’re almost to the cave! I can see it!” You pushed him into the cave and looked to your left. A large piece of metal was bounding right towards you. You yelped and jumped in, right before the metal buried itself in the sand. You stared blankly as you realized it had blocked the entrance save for a small corner at the top. You turned around when you heard Leonard hiss in pain and saw blood soaking his robes. A piece of shrapnel had impaled itself into his side. “Leonard! Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine!” He snapped and you sighed, pulling back the robes and mask from your face. 

“You lay down, I’m going to get some light in here.” You pulled out your phaser and luckily found a pile of rocks. You shot at them, making them burn a bright red and give off some light. “Where’s your med kit?”

“What?”

“We gotta fix that up. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Where’s your medkit?” you unwrapped part of your robes and made a makeshift pillow for him as he pulled out his kit. 

“You sure about this?”

“You got a better idea?” He laid down and rested his head. You cut away at the fabric on the robes and he jumped when it pulled at the piece of shrapnel.

“Be careful!” 

“I’m trying to be, you mule!” You snapped back and he stared at you.

“Did you just call me a mule?”

“A mule that’s gonna tell me how to stitch it up.” He sighed and prepared himself.

“Alright, hit me with the hypospray on the furthest right. That’ll numb it.” You did it quickly. “Now turn whatever’s in there.”

“What?” You yelped. “Turn it.” You did as he asked, wincing as it spun through the flesh slightly. He could still feel a little bit it wasn’t that painful. “Okay it turned, it’s just in my flesh, not a rib. Now pull it out.” “But that’ll make you bleed more.”

“Just do it.” You prepared yourself and quickly yanked it out. He jumped again and winced. “Third hypospray from the right!” You quickly injected it and the bleeding immediately slowed. “Take the device on the top left and do a criss-cross on it.” You did it, watching as the material tightened up and closed the wound. “Now clean it and let’s hope we’re found before it’s infected.” 

“You don’t have a hypospray for that?” He just looked at you, making you roll your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.” You pulled out your communicator.

“Kirk to Kirk.”

“Kirk here.”

“Doctor McCoy and I are trapped in a cave by a piece of a ship. I’ll send you our location so that you two can come get us when the storm’s over.” “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Doctor McCoy got hit by a piece of shrapnel.”

“I’ll be fine, Jim.” Leonard called out. 

“You two hang tight, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” You took off the rest of your robes, leaving you in a black top and pants. 

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine.” Leonard replied. 

“How many of those numbing hyposprays do you have?”

“One more. I’ll let you know if it gets too bad.” He replied and you nodded. You were both silent as you took inventory of what you had in the cave. You had some emergency stuff but if the storm lasted a while there might be trouble. 

“Thanks.”

“Huh?” You spun your head around and saw Leonard looking at you.

“Thank you, for fixing me up. You did a pretty good job.”

“You’re welcome. I think that’s the first genuine compliment you’ve ever given me.” You smirked and he chuckled. 

“I guess I’ve been a little rough on you.” You sniffed in laughed and sat down next to him, getting close to him and the rock for warmth. 

“A little?” 

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He replied. “I guess I can be a little to hard on you.” You hummed in response. “Y’know you’re not that much of a peach yourself.”

“A georgia peach?” You replied and he rolled his eyes. “Look, I know I’m not the easiest person to work with but you’re not either. And we’re stuck in this cave together until they come and get us. So all we have to do is not kill each other until Jim and Spock come or something comes to kill us.”

“Comforting.” He replied.

“I try.”

XXXXXX

You were busy going through your logs on your PADD, sneaking your eyes over to Leonard every now and then to make sure he was alright. To make the time pass by a little faster, you played music lowly. Of course you two had to argue about what kind of music for a little bit before you just put on some Tchaikovsky. You had some spattered communication with Jim and Spock but the dust storms had picked up too much to the point they had to hole up somewhere too. Last you checked, they were still okay and the doctor had taken his last hypospray.

“So, why did you join up?” You were broken out of your thoughts to see Leonard messing around with a small rock in his hands. 

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on Jim, might as well be me.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t really have a more noble or complicated reason. I didn’t really have any other place I wanted to go. Plus I didn’t want to stay in one place too long, I get too antsy. My parents did it, George joined up, Jim joined up, then I did. I get to strategize, protect, travel, and be with Jim at the same time.”

“So it was just the right thing to do?”

“In a sense. I mean, it’s always been me and Jim. I couldn’t imagine not being able to see him for five years. Jim always kept me out of trouble, I kept him from flying too close to the sun.”

“So you’ve always been a pain in the ass?” You genuinely laughed at that. 

“Yeah, I’ve always been a little shit. But I’ve put that energy towards keeping people safe and annoying you. Now I’ve told my story, spill.” He sighed and adjusted himself a little against the ground. 

“Eh, not much to tell. Wife left, I was a doctor that needed to get away, and found myself at star fleet.”

“I’ll never Jim calling me that day and telling me about you. He said you were some hypochondriac that nearly threw up on him in the plane.”

“And Jim told me you were his hot headed sister who couldn’t keep your trap shut.”

“And look where we are now: trapped in the same cave.” You mused. “Wanna play 20 questions?”

“What?” “I don’t know how long we’re gonna be here, might as well pass the time. I’ll go first if you want.” He sighed and nodded his head in agreement. “Alright, what do you miss most about Georgia?” You leaned against the cave wall on the other side of him, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“I know I’ll sound like an old southern gentleman but sitting on a front porch in a rocking chair.” You sniffed in laughter and he looked over at you with an annoyed look.

“Hey, I’m not judging. It does make you sound like an old man. Ask me a question.” He thought for a moment or two.

“What are you afraid of? There has to be something.” You groaned and covered your face. “C’mon!”

“No, you’ll laugh!”

“I won’t laugh, I promise. With what you’ve seen and done, it has to be truly scary.” He reasoned and you shook your head. “Then what is it?”

“It’s...birds. I’m afraid of birds.” There was silence between the two of you. 

“Are we talking geese or-” “Doesn’t matter. I’m deathly afraid of all birds.” When he didn’t say anything else, you looked up from your palm to see his body shaking with laughter. “Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“With everything we’ve seen!” “Alright Hercules, other than space what are you most afraid of?”

“Flying.”

“Man you chose the wrong job.”

“Come over here, I can barely hear you.” You rolled your eyes but made your way over to the wall next to him, resuming you previous position.  “What do you miss doing that you can’t do on the Enterprise?”

“I miss cooking. I love to cook and it sucks that we only have replicators. I’m a pretty good chef if I do say so. I make a mean skillet pot pie.”

“That sounds dangerous. I do miss home cooking.”

For the next fourteen questions, you found out a lot about each other. You both enjoy reading in your spare time, both think Jim and Carol should suck it up and go out already, you had the same favorite old tv show, and generally had a lot in common with each other. You told stories about your youth like when you fell of the roof of your grandfather’s barn, when you rescued a stray dog you found in some cornfield in Iowa, and how your father had raised you to become an old movie buff. He told you about med school and the time that he accidentally ate a hallucinogenic plant and was tripping for three days. It seemed like he could be just as reckless as you sometimes. He told stories of before you joined up and the adventures he and Jim were on, how many times he had pretty much saved Jim but didn’t think he did anything special. You would’ve hated to admit it before but you were enjoying getting to know him.

“After Starfleet, what do you want to do?” He asked. At this point, you were laying down next to him, sharing your robes as a pillow. 

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t cop out now.” He chuffed and you shook your head.

“I really don’t know, McCoy. This i pretty much all I’ve ever known. You can go to a hospital or clinic, I don’t know where else to go. I don’t want to be a civilian officer, don’t want to be a body guard to some stuffy politician.”

“You can settle down?” You snorted. 

“Yeah, me, settle down.”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Yeah, I want to be married and have kids one day but I just don’t think it’ll happen. I have a difficult job where I get hurt on a daily basis. Not a lot of people can handle that.”

“You’ll find somebody, Kirk. You’re a catch.” You looked over at him with a smirk. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that.” You laughed and propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at the open area at the corner of the cave.

“Last one, what’s one thing you wish you had known more about before today?”

“You.” He answered and you looked down at him. “I used to think you were the most annoying person on the ship. I was always too hard on you and didn’t even try to talk to you without Jim there to keep us calm.”

“Why did we both decide to hate each other?” You laid back down next to him. “Seems like if we weren’t on that ship we would get along well.” You were silent for a little while. “Perhaps we’re both stubborn. I didn’t like you because you didn’t like me. From the first time I got hurt-”

“You’re Jim’s sister. Jim’s my best friend. The first time you got hurt, I felt an even more overwhelming sense of duty. I had to take care of you even more so than my other patients. Not only are you his sister, you protect us with little regard to yourself. You’re only afraid of birds, not death. I know this is all jumbled but...I think I was scared to get to know you because-” You noticed how his speech was becoming slightly slurred.

“That sense of duty would be even stronger.” You were both silent again. “I’m sorry, Leonard.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“How about when we get out of here we share a drink. I’ve got some damn good whiskey I think you’d enjoy.”

“Sounds like a deal.” You shot up when you heard banging at the front of the cave and grabbed your phaser. You slowly made your way to the large piece of metal and heard some talking on the other side. 

“Romulans.” You muttered and hurried back over to Leonard. You cursed when you saw that he had begun sweating again, his skin pale and clammy. “Leonard, listen to me. I have to move you behind the rocks alright?” He nodded as his head lulled to the side. You grasped underneath his arms and began to drag him, noting that the piece of metal was moving slowly in the sand. “Don’t make a sound, alright? I’ll take care of them and we’ll get back to the Enterprise.” You turned to go away and find some cover but her grabbed your hand.

“Wait, Kirk.” You looked back down at him and he squeezed your hand. “Don’t make me patch you up again.” You smiled softly.

“I’ll do my best.” You hurried to a rock on the other side of the cave and waited for the Romulans to breach. It took them a little time but they finally moved the shrapnel enough to get through. You weren’t well versed in linguistics so you couldn’t make out what they were saying. They came over to the rock serving as heat and light and muttered amongst themselves. They knew someone was there. You could hear them growing closer and heard their phasers click off, presumably not to stun. You looked over at Leonard and saw his shaky breathing, you couldn’t let them find him. As they got closer to you, you finally popped over the rock and shot one of them in the knee and the other in the shoulder, stunning them. You sighed and almost went over to Leonard before a shot rang out and grazed past you.

There was one more waiting outside the cave. 

You hurried back behind your rock and thought about what to do. You could try to get some shots out but he had you cornered, he’d easily hit you first. If he got you, then he would get Leonard. He could also easily ambush Jim and Spock. You decided your best option was to wait and try to get the upper hand if he decided to move closer. 

You listened for his footsteps, grating the sand underneath him. If you could disarm him then you would get your chance. He wouldn’t wait for you to surrender, you didn’t wait for them. He was calling out something to you and even with the language barrier you knew he was cursing you out. As soon as you heard him close enough, you leapt over the rock and tackled him. You rolled to the other side of the cave and you tried to smash his hand against the wall so he would drop his phaser. You felt him kick your shin, then kneeing your hip and you cried out. With one last hit, he dropped his phaser but before you could get your shot, he punched your jaw and flipped the two of you over. You tried to shoot again but the shot just went to the rocks above. He now held your wrists in a crushing grip, willing you to let go. You did the only thing you could do and kick for some sort of advantage. You went for his knees, his stomach, any place you could think.  He was starting to get irritated, he was starting to get desperate. He let go of your unarmed hand to grab the knife in his belt and your eyes went wide. You had to act fast. You grabbed the only thing you could, a rock, and hit him in the side of the head. He finally let you go and you scurried away from him, training you phaser on him. You didn’t realize how hard you had hit him and realized he wasn’t going to move any time soon as blood came from his temple.  You hurried back over to Leonard to see that his eyes were drooping. 

“Leonard! Stay with me!”

“Are you hurt?”

“Just bruised, I’m fine. Hang in there, alright? We’ll figure this out!”

“Commander!” You heard a familiar voice call. 

“Spock!” You cried out. “Hurry, we need to get Dr. McCoy out of here.”

“On our way!” Jim yelled back. You looked back over at Leonard and held his hand. 

“C’mon Leonard, we’re almost there.”

XXXXXX

The events on Thurilia changed a lot of things. It was noticed immediately that you and Leonard weren’t bickering as much. Nurse Chapel noticed that the vein in his head wasn’t ready to pop at a moments notice anymore. It didn’t seem as explosive. Of course, there was still an argument after he quickly recovered about her almost getting stabbed but it wasn’t nearly as tense as the others. 

However, that wasn’t the only thing that got the crew talking. 

Leonard was no longer in his uniform. Instead, he was in his civilian clothes that he usually wore once the day was done: a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt from his college days. He walked down the halls of the enterprise late in the night to get to your door, two glasses in his hands. He knocked and the door soon slid open to reveal you in your civilian clothes with a smile: a fleet sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. It was a little shocking for you to see each other out of uniform but it was oddly comforting. It had shown that the time in the cave had done a lot of good. You two visiting each other for a nightcap had become a regular occurrence.

“What movie did you pick?” He asked as he walked in. 

“Princess Bride. It’s a movie from the 1980s.” His eyes widened, still shocked about your movie collection. “It’s got fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, escapes, true love, miracles!”

“Sounds surprisingly sappy for you.” He chuckled as he poured the drinks. You sat down on your bed with the remote in hand and rolled your eyes. 

“Did you not hear the first part of that?  What with all the violence?” He offered you a glass and you gladly took it. 

“Yeah, yeah I heard you. It sounds great.” He sat down next to you against the headboard and you started the movie. It was a little off-putting how grainy it was but you insisted it added to the charm of the film. The movie continued and Leonard looked down to see the stars in your eyes as you watched. You were absolutely mesmerized by the story and kept telling him facts about the film. He noticed the tightness in his chest and coughed a little, hoping it was just the burn of the whiskey. 

But it didn’t go away. 

XXXXXX

Spock and Uhura watched with wide eyes as they rounded the corner to see Leonard smiling with two glasses in his hand as he walked into your room. 

“Spock, tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

“I believe, ashayam, we are witnessing what you humans call a miracle.” 

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Eight

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo….. How are we doing…………….

Warnings: ....Less angst than last week? I think? I mean by my gauge anyway y’all might disagree

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: “I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.” 

Can we talk? I had taken my time in answering Una’s message.

Maybe it was a little petty of me, but it was the first time she’d reached out to me in months, and I was tired. Despite the fact that the armistice between the Federation and the Klingons was in effect ahead of the Peace Accord in Paris, my work had yet to be completed. I’d been selected and summoned back to the Academy by Starfleet High Command to work closely with a number of other Comms specialists and the Klingons to draw up a treaty that would be beneficial to both sides, and would help to ensure that the armistice held. Are you going to hang up again? Was my answer, finally. Her response stunned me - but then, Una typically found a way to catch me off-guard. It would be difficult for me to hang up on you in person. 

-- I had this inexplicable urge to hug her, if only to ensure that we were both there, both real and solid, but I knew that Una was not a hugger. Instead I nodded to her as she slid into the booth seat across from mine. I’d taken up brief residence in one of the vacated mess hall spaces in the Academy while I’d waited for her. “How much time have you got?” She asked. “About an hour. It’s technically lunch break.” “We can get something to eat.” “I’m not hungry.” “...How are you?” She asked after a moment. “I’m not sure you deserve that answer.” I didn’t mean to snap, but— seeing Una in person, seemingly unchanged after what I had gone through - after Somonia, after the war, and after she had been so harsh to me, I was not in a mood to be warm and cuddly. Una nodded a little, unflinching. “I do deserve that,” She conceded, “I was...Processing. I should not have said that to you, it was a blatant disregard for your feelings. I’m sorry.” “...Well,” I bristled a little, “Thank you for that.” I glanced out of the window for a moment, gathering myself before asking, “So, why are you on Earth?” “There was a hitch in installing the new Holographic Communications System, it had to be brought in to space dock.” “Crew’s in one piece?” “Yes.” “Are you the only one down here?” “...Yes.” I lowered my gaze to my hands again. “Why did you want to meet with me?” I asked. Una stood and walked around to my side of the booth, sliding in to sit beside me. I didn’t turn to look at her, and she didn’t push for me to. “When...Spock told me that you were alive,” She said softly, “When he brought the timeline to me, the evidence… There was some little part of me that almost hoped he’d made it all up-- Not because I wanted you to be gone,” She hurried to explain, “But because I… Could not fathom the fact that we had left you behind. And seeing your medical file, reading the briefing that you gave Command-- the hell that you went through. If we’d turned back when Cornwell contacted us--” “You couldn’t have known--” “That shouldn’t have stopped us,” Una insisted, “We should’ve gone back, should’ve...Made sure.” I glanced over at Una to find her staring ahead of us, shoulders and jaw tight. “It was hard, watching the crew learn that you were gone. You were missed, you were needed, but seeing the news spread that you were alive, that you’d been drafted into service for the war so soon after you were found— And that we were constantly being told to stay out of the war on top of it … I was angry. I focused that anger in the wrong place when we spoke,” She admitted, turning to meet my eye, “I have regretted that every single day.” I felt tears prickling at my eyes and I lowered my eyes to the gold fabric of her uniform, clenching my jaw. “I’m not apologizing for not telling you,” I shook my head, "I’m sure Cornwell was monitoring my communications, and I don’t know what the repercussions would’ve been-- for either party.” “Considering the Admiral’s tendency to run a tight ship, as it were, I understand. I think you did the right thing...Commander,” Una tipped her head forward as she addressed me by my new rank. I rolled my eyes a little, a small smile creeping onto my face. It had been a battlefield promotion for the sake of my ability to command a small vessel during the Battle of Xisad, one of the last battles fought during the war. Cornwell had promoted me herself. “You know I had to take the Bridge Officer’s test when I got back?” I told Una, slouching down in my seat a little bit, “Just to make it official. They told me that if I didn’t, my rank would revert. I almost let it go.” “Why didn’t you?” “Durling.” “Eli Durling?” I nodded, humming, “Bastard goaded me, said I wouldn’t pass first try, so it wasn’t worth bothering.”

Una smiled. “Stubborn as stone,” She shook her head. “Don’t start,” I began to laugh, and it soon overtook the two of us. As it settled, I gathered my courage to ask the question that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since Una had told me she was the only one on Earth. “Where is he?” “He’s on Starbase five at the moment. Visiting someone.” “Is he alright?” “Yes.” “And he...He knows?” Una frowned, nodding a little. “Of course he knows,” She confirmed, “You haven’t spoken to him?” “No. He hasn’t reached out and I...I didn’t, I wasn’t sure,” I admitted. I suddenly felt jittery-- sharp, and sensitive. It was like I’d taken a gulp of the worst kind of Koutovian tea. “So--” I cleared my throat, “When do you leave?” “In a few hours, most likely. Starfleet’s set us another mission. Do you know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. I don’t know how long we’ll be working on the treaty and Command doesn’t want to set me to another post prematurely.” “I understand.” I could see the disappointment in Una’s eyes, but rather than say anything, she just tipped her chin up a little bit. “Do you think you’ll leave Communications for Helm now?” She prodded, and I snorted. We both knew the answer to that. 

-- Tilly and I nearly knocked one another over with the force of our embrace. I squeezed her as tight as I could, grinning from ear to ear, wholly uncaring that the transporter room crew and the Cornwell were nearby. “I have to check on where you’re staying, but um-- I’ll come and find you and show you and-- excuse me, Admiral,” Tilly ducked around Cornwell before hurting out of the transporter bay.

The Admiral arched a brow at the sight of me before gesturing for me to follow her. I fell into step beside her, glancing around. The Discovery hadn’t changed since my last stint on it, of course, but it was surreal to be back on the ship that I thought had been destroyed. But as nice as it was to be on a starship with no threat of war, I was not in the best mood. Treaty completed, peace talks aside, Peace Accord signed, I had been afforded leave. Shortly after that leave had been granted, I'd received a message from Admiral Cornwell. 

“I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.” “You’re not in uniform.” “No. I’m not, because technically, officially, I am not here,” I reminded Cornwell as I cast her a sidelong glance, “Were those not your exact words?” “They were.” “Well, then if I am still technically, officially on leave,” I gestured to my civvies, “Then why would I be in uniform?” “You’re in a fine mood.” “Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you pulled me off of leave for an assignment?” I retorted. “The Discovery has been tasked with chasing down signals that have appeared in varying points throughout the galaxy.” I frowned. “I thought that the Enterprise had been tasked with that directive.” “It had, but it experienced catastrophic system-wide failures. The Discovery took over the mission.” “And I’m here because…?” “There is a colony on the way to the next point that’s in need of monitoring. Starfleet is not interfering, but we’re keeping an eye on them. We need you--” “A Tag and Run?” I asked, stunned, “You’ve really pulled me off of leave for a Tag and Run? Why not pull Durling?” “I have. He’ll be here in a few hours to oversee the op. I’ve business to attend to elsewhere.” “Of course you do.” “Commander, I may’ve tolerated a certain amount of this disposition in the midst of the war, but please trust that I have no such patience for it right now.” I fought the urge to snap back and roll my eyes. “I thought that Tag and Runs were only sanctioned outside of the war in the most extreme cases.” “Trust when I tell you that this is extreme, and sanctioned by Starfleet.” Cornwell stopped at the turbolift, turning to face me. “There’s something else that I ought to make you aware of.” “Oh, there’s more?” “I need you to keep your head.” I looked over her face, at the slight grimace on her lips, and that sharp, jittery feeling bubbled back up in my stomach. “...Kat, what--” “Admiral, a question.” I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but turn at the sound of his voice-- my body was moving before I even fully registered it, half turned from Cornwell, half turned toward Pike. It almost didn’t register, at first, that it really was him. I hadn’t seen him anywhere but my mind’s eye, my dreams, for the longest time. He looked… Well. Almost just as I remembered. There were maybe a few more streaks of grey around his temples, but I didn’t get a good enough look. My brain finally caught up with my body, took in his bewildered expression - the narrowed eyes, his parted lips, the scrunch of his brow - and I turned my head away, eyes set on the turbolift panel. “...You couldn’t have mentioned this before I beamed aboard?” I asked Cornwell quietly. “I wasn’t sure if another ship would be in range. False hope would’ve been cruel,” Cornwell's voice was no louder than mine, her eyes set on the Captain.  I turned my head a little as the turbolift doors opened and Tilly stepped out. “Oh! Wow, just who I was looking for--” She glanced between the three of us, taking in the tense silence, “I...Am sorry to interrupt, but, um, your lodgings are ready, Commander.” “Thank you,” I mumbled. “Commander?” Pike’s repetition was hushed, almost awed. I turned my head toward him a little, unable to meet his eye. He’d missed so much-- and what the hell had I missed? “If you’ll excuse me,” I answered tightly, stepping onto the turbolift with Tilly. “See if you can find a uniform,” Cornwell watched me, “And try to give Durling less lip.” “No guarantees,” I retorted before the doors slid shut. -- 

“That seemed… Tense. Like cage-fight-with-a-Mugato-tense,” Tilly commented over the hum of the turbolift. She was right - it felt it, too. I couldn’t get that look Pike had given me out of my mind. It was buzzing through me; it was a stone in my stomach; it was behind my eyelids when I blinked. “Speaking from experience?” I tried to tease as we stepped off. “Ah-ha,” Tilly shook her head, “No.” I gave her a small shrug, following her down the hall, “Pike used to be Captain of the Enterprise.” “Right.” “And I haven’t seen him since…” “Since he thought you were dead,” It dawned on Tilly, “Oh… Oh that’s worse than a Mugato.” “It’s like two Mugatos.” “Well, here we go,” She stepped aside to let me in, “You’re gonna have a roomie, but it won’t be me.” “Who’s it going to be?” I asked as I stepped inside. “Well, it’ll be me, and if you don’t like that, you can sleep in the frickin’ cargo hold.” I froze again at the sound of that dry, almost raspy voice. “Jett?” I asked, stunned. “Is that a yes or a no to the cargo hold?” She added, standing from her bed, “I mean you don’t actually have a choice, but it only seems polite to ask.” I flexed my hands before I asked, “Can I-- Are you-- Can I hug you?” “Once,” Jett conceded, “But make it a quick one.” I didn’t approach her too fast, didn’t hug her too tightly, just patted her shoulder twice and took a step back. “What, um…” I asked lightly, throat growing tight, “What happened?” “It’s a long story-- And you haven’t even heard it yet,” Jett frowned, watching me step back to what would be my temporary bed and lower myself down onto it, putting my head in my hands. “Hey,” Tilly sat down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it, “What is it?” I couldn’t answer. I just shook my head a little as I took deep breaths, trying to slow my pounding heart, trying to steady my breathing. “Are you mouthing ‘pie’? I should get her a snack?” I heard Jett ask Tilly-- which made me laugh through the few tears that were leaking from my eyes. “Pike,” I mumbled, “She’s mouthing Pike.” I could understand why the two were trying to be careful with me. I surely seemed panicked by what should’ve been amazing news. And it was amazing. I was overjoyed, relieved that Jett was alright, but-- between the mission, Tilly, Pike, and Jett, I was overwhelmed. And Pike had looked right at me -- Right at me. He’d seemed so startled, like I was a figure that had stepped out of a dream-- or a nightmare: unknowable, unplaceable, but strangely familiar and to be dissected. Maybe that was one small consolation. While Cornwell hadn’t warned me, she'd been remiss in warning him, too.

I tipped my chin up from my hands, looking between Jett and Tilly and giving them a weak, watery smile. “I won’t lie, though, pie sounds amazing right now.” "Sure! We can do that,” Tilly said quickly, more than happy to put a baked band-aid over this hurt, “Jett, you coming?” Reno shrugged, “I could eat.”

Tag list: @angels-pie​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​ ; @inmyowncorner​  ; @tardis-23​ ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime​ ; @paintballkid711​ ; @katrynec​​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @blueeyesatnight​

[greenroseunderglass]

To Your Hands : Fanfic - Star Trek TOS (Gen)

@sicktember2021

@sicktember

Prompt# 14 - Aches and Pains

Summary: Jim Kirk rescues himself from a hostage situation, of course, but he doesn't do it unscathed. His friends want to catch him even if he refuses to fall.

2 Parts: Bones and Spock

Bones

They had been taken after a pitched battle in the transporter-shielded Hall of Commerce, Kirk and five junior officers from security, and one aide from the Federation Ambassador's party. They had been held three nights and well into the fourth day before Kirk led their escape into an absolute deluge. There had been so much communications interference, natural and man-made, Spock never should have beamed them aboard, not from a planet of shapeshifters, but something had made him certain of their identities, and they'd avoided imminent capture for the familiar corridors of the Enterprise. With a thousand things to do, Kirk hadn't been the most cooperative patient until Bones had nearly shouted him down in front of the main ward in Sickbay. He'd gone with what grace he could still find after that. Kirk would have admitted only if asked twice that he did feel better once he let himself change into soft, dry sweats and the nurses put warm re-hydrating fluid into his arm. But then, it took Bones about seven seconds to be back over once that was set up, so he didn’t get to enjoy the simple pleasure of it for long. McCoy was a healer, though, a real doctor when he had a real patient. Once Kirk stopped resisting he slowed down, his grumbles softening, his voice finding a quieter, deeper register that radiated authority and safety in a way that affected even someone as familiar with him as Jim Kirk. The doctor went over Kirk with his big, warm hands after he stopped whirring at him with the scanner. He was careful, and thorough. Everything hurt, either when touched or when moved, but those hands left bruises and strains feeling not only cataloged but better somehow as McCoy passed gently over them. Kirk started yawning, though, as McCoy moved over him again, this time with a protoplaser. He made himself go up on his elbows as McCoy reached his shins, and that was the end of the idyll. “You just lie right back down there and go to sleep," McCoy snapped. "All the other hostages are in for a night of observation, and it won’t hurt you for once.” Kirk just yawned again and smiled at him to prompt a suspicious look, because getting Bones annoyed early over nothing in particular was always good tactics. “Oh, I plan on being asleep, soon. I do have some things that have to be done first, though. And-“ "You are not-" Without pause, Kirk repeated himself, enunciating over McCoy’s objection, “And. It will be done sooner if you cooperate. Send Rand and Johann in here, and Sumani. “ He stretched a little and squirmed. “And another couple of pillows, so I can recline in state.” “Back still bothering you?” McCoy asked, small whirring scanner immediately back in his hand. "You never let me spend enough time with the protoplaser when you have deep bruising like this. You must still be sore all over." “Yes," Kirk said dryly. "Every thing I own is bothering me, doctor.” He huffed a laugh, dismissing it. “I am tired, and I've been told sleeping on stone floors is not good for me. But unless you plan on running one of those things over every inch of me at every depth, I think I'll just have to sleep it off.” No, sleeping on cold stone floors was not good for him, McCoy thought, or good for his aching body. Neither was three nights in clammy damp, or an hour getting soaked through during their escape, or the slight fever Kirk was running from the cold he was definitely coming down with. McCoy huffed back at him, frustrated. He would be laughed at if he suggested Kirk spend some time in one of the hot spa baths, and that was really the only prescription he had at the moment, for all his training. He couldn't give any of the hostages much in the way of pharmaceutical pain relief, not after their captors had drugged them so extensively. And Kirk was right, damnit -- he would end up resting more quickly if McCoy let him work unhindered for a little while. The doctor stiffly left the room, but he did grudgingly call the Captain’s yeoman and left her to manage the rest of it. He forbid her from giving Kirk the fresh uniform she turned up

with, but decided to look the other way on the coffee. It took less than an hour after that for Kirk to fight himself free, of the fires in his command and the solicitude of the nurses. He had a lot on his plate in about ten hours, but being involved with a planet with deeply held taboos about actions taken in the night hours, and sitting in geosynchronous orbit above its capital, had its advantages. Caught up and feeling human again, Kirk leaned against McCoy’s office door to wave his way out, but McCoy peremptorily pointed at a seat while finishing a consult with M’Benga. Finally McCoy sat behind his desk and pulled a bottle and two glasses from the cabinet behind him. Kirk took the rich brown liquid he was being offered and breathed deeply over his first sip, settling gingerly back in the hard chair. “Oh, that’s good,” he said, then set it neatly back on the desk to turn his head and sneeze lightly, twice, into the crook of his arm. McCoy tch’ed at him and tossed him a box of sickbay ‘tissues’. “I should have made you a hot toddie, if you’re going to start that. I should put you back on the biobed. ” Jim gave another of his wry, dismissive laughs at that, but his voice was probably more serious than he meant it to be. "You can't confine me for the common cold, Bones, and you can't treat it anyway." "Can't cure it. You've already had a shot to make sure you're not contagious, and one to shorten the duration. There's another one that will help stop inflammation in your sinuses and your chest, but that one makes you sleepy, so you only get that when you're actually leaving." "Which is at the bottom of this glass," Kirk told him. "And yes, I'm actually going to bed." He hesitated, and looked into his drink before taking another sip, then, "They are all going to be all right, Bones?" "Yes," McCoy said simply. "The ambassador's aide--" Kirk held up a finger and raised his voice slightly. "Ambassador Goddard, join us, please." The man had been loitering in the corridor, half eavesdropping and half nervous about disturbing them. He was there for an update on his aide, who was doing well physically but would probably need some trauma counseling. After earlier arguing on the Bridge that the Captain's party not be beamed aboard, citing security risks, Goddard did not feel he should linger around any of the officers at the moment. He drank off his whiskey like a good diplomat and was leaving as quickly as he'd come, but paused to watch when the Captain started to stand also and was pinned back into his chair by a vigorously pointed finger. "You, you wait until called for." Kirk wobbled his head in apparent amusement and eased back down. He saw Goddard watching him and grinned. "Never cross a CMO during a multiple casualty event, ambassador. Rule number three of Captaining a starship." Goddard was a beat slow, but training kicked in and he obligingly asked what the first two rules were. He couldn't believe how lightly Kirk seemed to be taking the whole situation, even his own abduction. He couldn't imagine how to talk to the man about his legitimate concerns, but agreed to join a debriefing at 0800. Kirk was 'called for' minutes later by the formidable First Officer, which made Goddard wish he hadn't dawdled. Spock arrived just as Kirk was saying something about his aide's fortitude during the escape, and Spock apparently took that to mean the ambassador was grilling Kirk. "Surely, gentleman, there is nothing about the hostages' escape or confinement that can't wait until the 0800 debriefing." His voice was even, his face was mild, and Goddard felt a wall of solid dislike hit him like a burst of steam. Vulcans were only touch-telepaths, that couldn't be a real energy he was feeling, but he exercised the better part of valor, made his goodnights, and fled anyway. He caught a glimpse of Kirk glancing after him with a look of surprise as he went. "What did he do?" Kirk asked, sliding to the edge of the chair in preparation to stand as McCoy returned and went to get the hypo on his desk. "I cannot imagine what you

mean, Captain," Spock said evenly, then offered his arm to help Kirk up. He didn't need the help -- he was sore and achy, not impaired -- but he bit down on his pride and accepted it, just to get himself on his feet. Spock needed to feel like he was doing something, too, however small the gestures. McCoy glared at them both and gave Jim the shot in the shoulder. "That's going to be a little sore, sorry, but it'll keep your cold from becoming a misery. Now you just have to get him to bed before he starts tipping over," he addressed Spock. Anger flashed and was forcibly cooled in Kirk's mind. On a normal day the two of them thought he needed a keeper, but this wasn't a normal day, and he had no right to the familiar annoyance. He'd been lost to them for almost ninety hours this time. As his friends, they had a right to manage him a little. He'd keep allowing it. Tonight.

Spock

As he and Spock walked down the corridor, Spock still in possession of his arm, Kirk began to be glad he'd been so high-minded about the whole thing, because he was definitely beginning to sway. In the turbolift he said, "McCoy wasn't kidding about that shot," just as he sneezed and his knees tried to give. Spock moved to catch him more firmly, but Kirk waved him off. "I'm all right. I only have to get to my quarters." His cabin was cozy with two in it, if luxurious for a Starship – he patted Spock away by catching hold of the screen divider and clinging. “Shower first, then bed. Despite McCoy’s solicitous comments, I will actually be all right from here.” He smiled and waved Spock back toward the door. Spock gave ground, but only to the other side of the desk. His expression was determined, yes, but mostly… unimpressed. Kirk surmised he must look about like he felt. Spock could always see through him, anyway. Before he could even plead his case, Spock said calmly, “I am aware that the only active attack on your health at the moment is from a simple cold, which is not a serious affliction. However, the depth of your exhaustion makes any further impairment concerning, and I will not feel I have complied with the Doctor’s orders until I have seen you to proper rest.” Kirk gave him a bit of a side-eye. “You’re going to stay here until I fall asleep, whether I like it or not?” “Might I suggest you allow my assistance in certain matters, strictly for the sake of expediency?” God, he was so, damn, tired. And he had spent three nights as a captive, the better part of four days slightly ill and soundly beaten and responsible for crew and civilian lives despite his helplessness to secure even his own. He had managed to get them all to safety, but he was. He was so tired, and there was a gentleness waiting in Spock’s hands if he would just give in, the expression of feelings his Vulcan friend could never express any other way. And he trusted Spock, didn't he? Spock could take the watch, he could take the burden, for a little while. When his knees wobbled this time Spock caught him and carefully peeled him off the divider to sit him on his bed. A quick hand ran through the hair of his bowed head, a gesture they would both deny. Spock helped him out of everything he could get off while sitting, then went to make sure the water shower was a good temperature. Kirk got a look when he toddled into the bathroom unassisted and naked, but Spock merely reeled him in with one long arm and made sure he was steady in the shower before turning his back to give him privacy. Kirk woke up enough to realize he really was out of it enough to be worrying the Vulcan, and regretted it. No words could fix the situation, either. Spock didn't need reassurances. He just needed to see Jim cared for and at rest. He turned his face up into the hot water and groaned with pleasure. That didn't sound like such a bad idea at the moment, at that. He washed quickly but let himself soak slowly. The steam-filled stall and hot water pouring over him reached into him, soaking out the cold of the day and easing the bone-deep ache from the creeping chill of three days in the cellars. When he shut off the spigot he still felt exhausted, he still felt slightly sick, he still ached all over, but it didn’t feel like it could take him to the floor, now, none of it. His muscles felt looser and his joints less stiff -- maybe he could actually sleep. He set the cubicle to hot air cycle, which was almost as nice as the hot water had been, as targeted forced air wicked the water from skin and hair, until some inner threshold was quite suddenly crossed and he found himself caught in a flash of over-heated ill-feeling and sudden dizziness. He shut off the dryer and cracked the door. Thankfully, the relatively cool air in the small bathroom cleared his head again. The patiently-waiting blue-clad back finally turned to offer him a towel and a promise of steadiness if he couldn’t find it himself. Kirk smiled a little, appreciative and too tired not to be warm about it,

gave his hair one last good towel and went to find sleep pants and a shirt, and an over-shirt. He made it to the over-shirt before sleepy dizziness sent him to sit on the side of his bed with the warm garment in his lap. He took a long breath, curled in on himself and shuddered, once. He let his eyes stay closed for a moment, just a moment, to clear his head and steady his breath, before straightening out very slowly. For Captain Kirk, this level of pain was a blessed relief. For exhausted, depleted, off-guard Jim who just wanted desperately to sleep it was almost more than he could handle. “Captain,” Spock said very quietly from right behind him. A gentle hand touched between his shoulders. "Jim. Allow me to help you, so you may rest.” He put his hands on Kirk’s shoulders and dug carefully into muscle with his long fingers, thumbs tracing downward in mirror arcs. “Let me help.” Spock was capable of spectacularly effective back-rubs, the kind of shock-and-awe attacks that annihilated knot after knot efficiently and then gentled it just enough before moving on. That was not what he was offering now. No painful return to function. This was an offer for comfort. Kirk’s head immediately dropped forward in pure animal desire for release from pain. “You’re needed –“ the protest was less than half-hearted. “I’ll be contacted if I’m needed, Captain. We’re in a unique position, with the Ariz’ strict adherence to daylight-only activity. We have a minimum of ten point two hours before we may expect movement from those in the capital.” Just the tips of Spock’s fingers dug in all across his back, and Kirk arched his back and tried to remember what he was saying. He mostly wanted to groan, already.

Kirk closed his eyes and gave himself up to the shoulder rub, at least, almost falling asleep within perhaps a minute before he woke himself with a light sneeze and decided to give in completely. He shifted, and Spock did most of the work in pulling back the covers and settling Jim full length on his front, hugging a pillow. Jim murmured something he knew would have embarrassed them both if they'd been face to face, but he was utterly giving his body into Spock’s hands now. God, so much strength in those hands, to be so careful with him. Jim had been trying not to be too vocal in his appreciation but he couldn’t repress a long, quiet noise as something at the base of his neck - that had been tied directly into a pounding in his temple for the last two days - let go all at once. The momentary pinch of pain in the muscle was skillfully rubbed out. He was drifting toward sleep, and closing his eyes again seemed like the natural next step. Spock had him, and the ship, and he could sleep for awhile. The occasional sharp kneading ceased. Now Spock was applying just enough pressure to keep him wanting to groan, all over him in turns, and Kirk could feel pain he’d become so accustomed to he barely noticed it rise into consciousness just long enough to be soothed away. Oh, Spock was good at this. Finally, the long-fingered hands came to rest on his near forearm, just above his hand. Spock pushed Kirk's hair back from his face and asked quietly, "Are you awake enough to eat something off your meal card? The doctor did say you should take nourishment. Then you can rest." He found one of the tissues in time to sneeze into it as he rallied on autopilot, “I refuse to accept chicken noodle soup as a prescription.” Spock ran a hand through his hair again as he stood up, plausible deniability in that it made it easier to see his face, then folded his hands behind himself and looked down on Kirk, who made some effort to look awake. He couldn’t seem to care enough to succeed under Spock's carefully stoic expression -- Jim could feel the warmth and fondness radiating out of it, in the little quirk at the corner of Spock’s lips and in the soft brown of his eyes. "Yes, Captain. Something warming, though," he hmm'd. "You've done enough for tonight, Spock." Kirk smiled at him, warm, god, how could cool Vulcan skin have gifted him with such a sense of positive warmth? "I can synthesize my own cup of soup. If I can move at all." Kirk smiled and gave a low groan as he stretched himself to feet on the floor and himself more or less sitting up. "Captain --" Spock demurred. "The doctor did insist on this." So he let Spock synthesize him a cup of soup without too much grumbling -- Vulcan aureg, thank you, not chicken noodle. And Spock did more or less end up putting Jim to bed, when he couldn't seem to coordinate his limbs anymore -- exhaustion, release of stress, sleep deprivation, ha! Jim was blaming it on McCoy's injection. The lights dimmed and he could feel Spock sitting on the side of the bed. After a moment he felt a cool hand pass through his hair again, rest for a moment at the nape of his neck, then Spock rose quietly from the bed and walked away. The moment after that, Jim was asleep. End

[rathernotmyname]

Fictober! Day 1

Fandom: Mr. Robot

Warnings: drug use (Weed.) 

So this is basically just me loving Rami’s cute ears and Star Trek: The Drabble. Lol. Also Aldersiblings Fluff. Because they need it.

Enjoy! (I appreciate every reblog! ;3)

Pointy

The glass was too close to the edge. Way too close, but Elliot was too stoned to do anything about it. 

Staring at it and waiting for the inevitable spilling and floor-wiping to happen proved to be too boring, so he directed his attention back at his laptop. 

Darlene had pirated a few episodes of Star Trek (the original series, because she argued everything coming after it was crap) and brought weed and grocery store-garlic bread for them to enjoy while laughing about the ridiculous special effects and costumes and sitting in thoughtful silence at some of the deeper scenes.  Elliot could have sworn he saw Darlene crying at some point, but she denied it when he asked.

He ripped of a piece of garlic bread and tuned back in just in time for Dr. McCoy to angrily call Mr. Spock a “pointy-eared bastard”, which Elliot thought was very rude of him. Darlene thought so too after a few deep drags of the joint they shared.

“He’s always so bad-tempered,” she slurred and handed the joint back to Elliot, who put it aside on the rim of the ashtray for the time being. “Poor Spock. Look at him, his eyebrow is sad.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Darlene frowned, a big, dark frown that usually only appeared when Elliot forgot to wash the dishes the third time in a week.

“Well, his ears are pointy,” Elliot pointed out intelligently.

“You’re right,” Darlene answered, nodding in emphasis, her eyes glassy and red when she glanced up where Elliot had melted over the sofa.

Elliot copied her nod, shoved the piece of bread into his mouth and stared at the glass at the edge of the table once more until it blurred into a vaguely grayish shape.

He let his head fall back onto the backrest, legs spread, arms sprawled, trying to listen because the screen made his eyes burn. When he almost choked on his piece of bread, he realized he had forgotten to chew.

“Fascinating,” said Mr. Spock on-screen.

“Amen,” Darlene answered, and giggled at herself.

“I like him. He’s so dry and unfeeling and in the next minute he’s just so sweet, like, what’s his deal – yo, dude!”

Elliot’s eyes snapped open. When did he close them?

“You missed the finale!” Darlene whined, nudging his left knee with her shoulder.

“What? The episode just started.”

“You fell asleep, genius.”

Elliot lifted his head. It was heavy, and his neck hurt. “Oh. Didn’t notice.” He gave up and let his head fall down again.

“Stop manspreading and make room.” Darlene stood up from where she had cuddled with Flipper on the new carpet and plopped down next to him. She stared at his profile.

“Elliot.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re a pointy-eared bastard.”

Elliot’s eyebrows beetled together. He tried to think of a clever comeback.

“Mpfh… No, I’m not.”

Task failed.

“Well, maybe not a bastard, but you’re sure pointy-eared.”

“Am I?” Was he? Elliot lifted a hand and grabbed for his left ear. It didn’t feel very pointy.

Darlene snorted at his uncoordinated movements. She traced the shell of his ear with her index finger, tongue peeking out in concentration.

Elliot shuddered. “Urgh, stop that.”

“Sorry, sorry. No need to jump out of your skin.”

She took Elliot’s hand, separated his index finger from the rest and pressed it to the top of his ear. As she let go of his hand, Elliot traced it like she had done before. It felt less intrusive, but not more pointy than before. When he shot Darlene a confused glance, she huffed and stood up, moving towards her backpack.

As the voice-over proudly exclaimed that someone or another would boldly go where no man had gone before, Darlene produced a pocket mirror and an eyeshadow palette from the depths of her backpack and situated them in front of his face and at the side of his head, tilting until Elliot could see his ear, now a little red from him rubbing it to get the feeling of Darlene’s finger off.

It was a perfectly ordinary ear, Elliot thought, except for the tip, as his sister had so helpfully pointed out. There, in plain sight and unprotected by his shorn hair, was a tiny little point.

“Told ya,” Darlene said, satisfied with Elliot’s obvious astonishment.

Elliot tried to think of the reason why he had never really looked at his ears until now, but his drugged-out brain felt like it would drip out of his nose if he thought any harder, so he let it be – for now.

Darlene had turned her back on him to put her equipment back. Elliot’s eyes caught the screen, where Mr. Spock nerve-pinched Bad Captain Kirk into unconsciousness. 

Elliot liked Spock. Spock was badass. Spock was cool. Normal people thought that too, right? Logically, if he may borrow the word, Elliot’s ears were cool, too.

Content with this revelation, Elliot let his head fall to the side, a smile overcoming his face like a warm breeze. He took a last drag of the joint and put it out in the ashtray. Then he dragged his eyes back to the laptop, too blazed to understand what was going on anymore, but comfortable with the noise and flickering lights.

Darlene turned back around, a chocolate bar in one hand that she had found in the pocket of her cloak. She grinned when she saw his face.

“Aw, look at you! Tell me, brother mine, what was this get-together?”

“A fucking good idea,” Elliot replied absentmindedly, because he knew the spiel from a lot of similar evenings.

“Fuck yeah.” Darlene sighed, stretched her arms and groaned at the audible pop her back gave. “You know, I never took you as a Trekkie. If I’d known how much you like this crap, I would’ve done this much sooner.”

“Don’t think I would’ve appreciated it as much as right now,” Elliot said. He reached up to scratch his nose, missed, and gave up.

“Probably,” Darlene murmured, shuffling back to the left side of the couch. “But at least you could’ve died happily knowing you have Spock-ears.” With that, she grinned, collapsed on the couch and bumped her knee against the coffee table.

The water glass wobbled, turned around its own axis and fell onto the carpet beneath.

[bluesakura007]

Undeniable - Chapter 4: Khan’s Past - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: After storming off following the start of her feud with Bones and Spock, Zinalya seeks comfort with the man who said feud revolves around in the first place, during which he divulges the story of his origins and how he ended up being awoken in the 23rd century.

Warnings: Roughly about half of this chapter is angst, and it includes mentions of the deaths of a parent and a friend.

Zinalya was almost flying down the corridors and then onto the ground floor via a turbolift, filled with her now released anger at Dr. McCoy. He had no right to be telling her how she was allowed to feel about someone, and her blood additionally boiled at the recollection of what she’d walked in to hear Spock saying earlier on before that, about how her plan to get Khan sent away with an exile sentence and go with him - and she guessed that the former also meant this about her feelings for the latter in the first place - would bring disrepute to Starfleet. 

According to Bones, he and the others were trying to help her, but she felt in the back of her mind that this was a lie, as he and Spock clearly didn’t actually care about what she wanted or how she felt because she was obviously the only one out of the three of them who could be bothered to look past Khan’s exterior for what lay underneath. This reminded her of a phrase she’d heard of once: “If you look for the good in people, you’ll find it.”

She was thankful for the fact that Scotty and Chekov were supportive of her wanting to leave with him - further proof to her that, as always, they were good friends - and she knew that while Kirk, Carol, Sulu and Uhura were remaining neutral and hadn’t picked either side of the argument, this could have been worse, due to the fact that one of these two sides they could have picked was to shut down and oppose her plan entirely, like Spock and McCoy. 

In spite of her annoyance at this latter pair, though, she felt the same kind of twinge as she had during her sarcastic remark to Spock when she’d walked in and heard him, which was guilt for the hostile moments of her behaviour just now. Especially for the particular moment when she slapped Bones. But this was only a temporary twinge as, with another surge of her blood boiling, she remembered that, effectively, they’d disregarded her viewpoints in the conversation and insisted on wanting to keep her away from the man she liked.

Within another few seconds, she’d arrived at the place where she’d been heading as soon as she stormed out. The room where Khan was being held in another cell.

The retinal and fingerprint scanners outside this room both recognised that she was indeed lieutenant-commander Zinalya Hamilton and allowed her to enter as a result. 

What she immediately noticed upon doing so was that apart from a few guards near to the door on the outer side, there were none inside the room itself, which she initially found to be a relief because of her wanting to speak alone with him until she found out why: to her right, in the corner of the ceiling above her, was a tiny, spherical-shaped black glass object which could only be noticed if you put in effort thanks to this size. It hardly took a detective to deduce that it was meant to be some kind of security camera.

"Did you mean it?"

She was suddenly snapped out of looking up at the camera by a certain deep and English-accented voice from in front of where she was standing. There he was, in a cell with a large floor-length glass window not unlike that of his previous cell onboard the Enterprise. Even the colouring of the room as a whole was very similar, except this one was slightly more like grey with a blue tint as opposed to pure white. "Sorry, what?" She turned her head back to facing where he was sitting at the back of his cell, looking at her with an owllike unwavering gaze, during which she found her anger from a minute ago fading.

"Did you mean what you said earlier in the courtroom, Miss Hamilton?" The sound of Khan’s voice still gave her shivers despite the amount of times she’d already heard it. "When you declared that you have romantic feelings for me?"

"I did, yeah." She nodded her head and simultaneously walked closer towards the cell. It took that little fraction of less time compared to on the Enterprise due to the room being marginally smaller than this ship’s brig. He now once again had the same look on his face that he’d had before, when she’d made this announcement he was referring to: a little dash of curiosity and slight skepticism but predominantly feeling touched by what she said. "Why do you have those feelings?"

Zinalya chuckled to herself. "I’m obviously not going to catch a break from that question anytime soon." When she saw his aforementioned expression change into one of mild confusion, she elaborated, "Commander Spock asked me the same thing just now."

"And what did you say to him?" Another one of those subtle outward expression shifts happened, this time her sensing slight dislike from Khan towards this half Vulcan first officer.

"I told him that I’m not entirely sure why, but it was partially because I felt like you’d been through an emotional rollercoaster, with all the admiral Marcus business." Zinalya replied, hesitant to bring up this subject. She and Khan were now standing right in front of each other, only about a foot apart on either side of the cell’s glass.

He momentarily laughed to himself through closed lips and craned his head to the side, looking down at the floor. "I take it I’d be right in presuming he and your other colleagues tried to convince you that the way you see me is a mistake?"

"Spock and Dr. McCoy did." Responded the half human-half Trill. "But not all of them were like that; the others haven’t taken a side but ensign Chekov and Mr. Scott are being supportive of it."

"You seem to trust those two a great deal."

"They’re my closest friends." Her inner sensation of gratitude and relief at their support swung into action again, because she remembered that this meant she was at least not fully alone in her plan and in that day’s developments.

Khan looked back up towards her, seeming as if he himself had just experienced a memory recollection of his own. He paused for a beat, and then spoke again, "I’d like you to know I feel the same way, Miss Hamilton; I find you endearing in return."

It was a surprise to her ears, because, after all, she was hoping that her emotions would indeed be reciprocated by him but the prospect of it actually, really happening was unexpected, so now it was her turn to pose the question, "Why?"

"Because from the people who I met and interacted with on your Enterprise, you appeared to be the only one who didn’t dismiss me as a mere criminal." Answered Khan, whose eyes she thought were like that of a snake due to the brightness of his light turquoise eyes, which made his pupils, at some moments, look as if they were slitted. 

She’d additionally used this time where they were in front of each other to mentally take in and properly admire every edge of his tall body and his immaculate black hair. "You only came to speak to me a few times, but during those instances I noticed that you behaved kindly towards me. Apart from this reason however I’m not certain myself: I like you in return for a reason that I can’t put my finger on either."

Zinalya thought to herself deeply about this weirdly complex concept of attraction. "Maybe we’re not supposed to understand why we’ve got feelings for each other. Do you believe in destiny?"

"It depends on the specific context." Said Khan.

"Well I think the bigger reason could be because it’s pre-destined and it literally is what’s meant to happen."

Khan nodded his head, slowly and gracefully, in understanding of this theory. "If we are pre-destined to be together as you say, then I think I should be fully honest with you - I should tell you about how it all began. The events that ultimately led to my revival last year and everything that followed."

"Okay." There came her own nod again. "I do know that at one point back in the 20th century you were a world leader, the head of a large empire, but that's all I know about you, so I would like to learn more." She sat down on the floor in front of the glass, anticipating that what was about to follow might take some time.

Khan quietly took a breath and he, too, sat down, the right side of his body leaning lightly against the glass. "The first four years of my life were rather peaceful - most of the memories I had from back that far became vague over time so I had to find out later on by doing my own research, but I lived during those first years in India, with my mother." He began. "Her name was Dr. Sarina Kaur, a biochemist who had, around that time, been carrying out experiments and investigations into asexual reproduction."

"Asexual reproduction? Like how plants and some insects have children without having to...?" She trailed off at the end, realising how awkward the rest of her sentence was going to be.

"Yes." Khan, luckily, answered what she was trying to query without her having to put in this ending. "I found out when I did my own exploration into the four early years that I was apparently conceived by her via artificial insemination. And it was entirely artificial - she'd managed to perfect her theory of creating a human child from a single parent without the need for a donor of any kind, dubbed the Chrysalis Project. I was born in the year 1970, so this was quite a notable scientific achievement for the time." Zinalya was still listening intently, while he continued, now with a feeling of poignancy shown upon his face, "I was initially conceived as another one of her experiments, which is why she gave me minor changes and enhancements in my DNA that created my different eye colour and accent and my light skin tone, allegedly whilst I was still in utero, as well as a small mental enhancement allowing me to recall early memories more easily. But I still remember clearly that once I’d been born, she was the kindest and most loving person I had ever known."

"She sounds like she was a really sweet woman. I think I would've liked to meet her if she was still around today." The lieutenant-commander opined with a gentle smile, knowing in her mind that based on how long ago the 1970s were, Sarina would have been long gone by that time.

"She was. When I was still very young, she had a pet dog named Cinder, a border collie I believe; he had already reached old age when I was born and he died when I was two years old, but before then it was just me, Cinder and my mother together in New Delhi as a family. And then one day, another two years later, I found out that she died, as well."

"What happened to her?"

"Something went wrong at her laboratory. It caused a fire which she was killed by as she tried to escape." He said. "I'd been out that day, playing in the streets with some of the other children who lived nearby. Her parents lived in Kolkata, meaning there was no one close enough to take care of me, so I spent the next year living on those streets. The first few days I spent moving from place to place with my blanket in my hands and I spent most of those nights crying until I cried myself to sleep." Zinalya felt her chest tighten at the sight of the wistful look in his eyes. "Until I met another boy, Tanvir Acharya. He was three years older than me and was also an orphan on the streets, and was the leader of a small group of others which he allowed me to join. Me and him became friends to the point where we both considered each other as a brother figure, but a year on, we and the rest of the group were taken, among numerous other orphans, for experimentation."

"Is that what made you into an Augment? What gave you all your abilities?"

"It was - there was a total of twenty-four boys including myself and fifteen girls who were subjected to genetic engineering over the course of several years, for the purpose of eventually becoming living weapons. Seven years after our capture, in 1982, Tanvir and I devised a plan to escape and then later come back in the hopes of liberating the others in addition, and we both ran off in different directions. I made it to the Gobi Desert before I was found by Dr. Heisen, the director of the eugenics project responsible for our augmentations, and was recaptured and returned to the research facility by the use of a neural inhibitor in my body, which doubled as a tracking beacon. All thirty-nine of us had each been implanted with one for controlling us with pain if need be." The wistful expression began to gradually amplify itself. "After I was returned, I discovered that Tanvir had also been recaptured, but the use of his own inhibitor had killed him: he was born with a heart defect which was never treated, so the electric shocks from his inhibitor had stopped his heart from beating." 

He remembered how truly awful he’d felt at this moment way back when - a twelve year old boy holding the corpse of his best friend, his older brother figure, in his arms and entering back into what he did during those first few lonely nights on the New Delhi streets, which was crying his eyes out.

"Oh god..." Said Zinalya.

"Three more years on from then, I successfully removed my own inhibitor and those of the others and killed Heisen myself." He moved on from this particular part of the story before he lost himself in the memory, hissing the sentence with a small edge of aggression in his tone. "From there, we escaped and gradually released other eugenics subjects in various countries across the world, and I imagine the rest is familiar to you."

"You set up your empire in the early 1990s and ruled over half of Earth." She confirmed. "Before you escaped the planet with seventy-two other Augments later."

"It was our belief that the rest of the human race couldn’t properly look after itself. Myself and a few others infiltrated world governments in 1990 and established our own, leading to the beginning of the Eugenics Wars in 1992. It was during this time when I did my research into the finer details of my origins, and one of the other things I eventually uncovered was my mother's naming process for me: I was named Khan after one of her grandfathers, she gave me my surname after the 15th century poet Singh el Bashir, and my middle name was after Noonien Prasad, her boyfriend who died from lung cancer while she was pregnant with me. We were attacked during my reign that followed by the non-Augment governments and threatened with nuclear weaponry, but I refused to retaliate with my own."

"I remember; you told me once on the Enterprise that yours was one of the few Augment governments where there wasn’t anything like genocide or the other worst parts of a dictatorship." Zinalya, who was currently leaning the back of her own body against the glass, stretched her legs out so that she was sitting with them in front of her and craned her head around to look at him. "You had the threat of total destruction over you and you still stood your ground without using the same weapons..."

"At one point, me and my own followers were also attacked by another Augment leader, although as you can see I was the one who won the battle." She could see his eyes becoming misty at this point. "But my leadership still almost cost me everyone I knew throughout this last year. In 1996, we were forced to flee to Australia and board a sleeper ship which we christened the SS Botany Bay, and then came Marcus' discovery of us." A tear slid ever so slowly down out of his left eye while the other one was still welling up. "If it is destiny which has brought me here to you in this time, then it must have a perverse way of thinking. I'm not certain whether or not I should be thankful for those circumstances."

"I'm so sorry." The security chief was finding his tears to be contagious. "I wish me and the others knew what was going on - he was manipulating you and threatening to take away every person you had left who mattered to you, and we did nothing..."

"You mustn't blame yourself, Zinalya." Khan turned to face her slightly more, and then came the tear from his right eye to match the one on his left cheek. "I'm sorry that I've gotten us into this current situation." He placed his index and middle fingertips from his left hand onto the surface of his side of the glass to indicate what he meant: they were separated from each other by nothing more than a thin material, and faced with the uncertainty of whether they'd be allowed to go into exile together or be well and truly separated indefinitely.

She gently shook her head and did the same with that of her right hand, turning her position herself to make it so that it was the left side of her body up against the glass instead of her back, as it had been previously. "It's okay. I know half your life's been hard - you didn't deserve those deaths of Tanvir or your mum, Khan. You didn't deserve any of the bad things that happened to you at all."

Hers were somewhat more free-flowing compared to his, but Khan and Zin just let their tears stream out in each other's company. The former shifted his position again in terms of how his head was inclined, which now made it look to anyone seeing it from in front of or behind them like they were leaning into each other with her head on his shoulder and his own head on the top of hers. They sat there for a while, in a silence laced with unspoken tenderness between them.

[sourb0i]

It starts as an afterthought. The away team has returned to the ship, escaping the jaws of death by the skin of its teeth. Jim hails the transporter room, as a good captain always should. “Everyone accounted for?”

“Aye, sir,” comes the reply from Ensign Calvin at the station.

“And Mr. Spock?”

“I am here, Captain,” answers Spock. His usually smooth voice, like a slow, even drum roll, has a hitch in it. But he’s alive, and he’s answering, and Jim breathes a little easier.

The next time the away team beams back up, it’s after a tense, but not outright dangerous, peace summit. The Romulans sent a delegate- the first time since the Narada incident. Once again, Jim hails the transporter room, makes sure all his people are accounted for. And, before he signs off, “I’ll see you at the bridge, Mr. Spock?”

“Affirmative, Captain. In no more than three-point-two minutes.”

Jim grins.

For a while, it’s just him on the aways, or him and Spock, and either way he always knows that Spock is there. He’s safe. And then it’s Spock going down to the ice planet, getting cut off by the blizzard, losing any signal to the ship. To Jim. Each time they try to contact him, Jim works hard to keep his voice from cracking.

The storm finally. The transporter room hails the bridge as soon as the survivors are on board. “Transporter to bridge,” Ensign Ferris crackles over the speakers. “We have successfully retrieved three of the seven away team members. All others are reported lost to hypothermia.”

“And Spock?” This time Jim’s voice does crack, and he doesn’t hide it. He doesn’t even feel the other eyes of the bridge deliberatly not looking at him. All he wants, all he needs, is his First’s voice. “Is he there? Tell me you have him.”

The voice that answers is rough, hoarse, not a low drum roll but the clatter of loose snares and sticks being dropped haphazardly on the head. All the same, it warms Jim to the core. “I am here, Jim. Do not, as Doctor McCoy so often puts it, have a cow.”

Jim can’t help it. He laughs. He laughs far too loudly at something that isn’t funny, because it absolutely isn’t, and that’s what he loves about his First. His Spock. “Affirmative, Mr. Spock. No cows will be had on the bridge. Don’t give Bones too bad of a time, will you?”

“I will endeavor to be a model patient. Whether Doctor McCoy will live up to the standards of a model doctor remains to be seen.”

The muscles straining themselves to snapping relax as Jim sits back in his chair. He makes a note of the other survivors, and the ones who didn’t make it back, and begins drafting letters to their families. But it’s not as hard of a task as usual, because Spock is still there and, well, if that makes him a terrible person then fine. He’s a terrible person.

The away missions don’t stop, or become any less perilous. Jim doesn’t stop beaming down recklessly and getting himself into a mess. Spock doesn’t stop beaming down and usually fixing the problem with typical Vulcan grace (save that one incident on Station 173 that members are forbidden from speaking of under pain of grunt duty for two weeks). Without fail, on each return, Jim will tap down to the Transporter room to check on his returning crew. Sometimes they all come back, sometimes they don’t.

Every time, he adds at the end: “And Mr. Spock?”

And, every time, Spock repllies, “I am here, Captain.”

[spockfallsinlove]

@sciencebluefeelings prompt: Jim has a kink in his back from sleeping on emergency rations, triggered by Tarsus IV.  in other words: another angsty Tarsus IV with Spock helping Jim fic kirk/spock. 2.4k words. angst, ptsd, jim’s poor back 

Jim can feel when it’s getting bad again.

It’s a snaking feeling up his spine, a tingling under his skin. It manifests in ticks that seem to have nothing to do with the root of the problem: rearranging the papers on his desk into specifically-sized piles, adjusting himself in his chair on the bridge into ten different positions in ten minutes, inability to throw things away, checking and re-checking that he sent comms an unnecessary amount of times.

This time, what triggered it was reports of attempted genocide occuring on planet Varga, with the use of a fungus that would kill most vegetation and cause mass starvation. After reading the report, it took Jim too long to leave his cabin for his shift that morning.

And Jim knows it’s coming, tries to temper it. Since he knows it’s coming, the really bad part of it all, he convinces himself that it’s manageable.

But then it ramps up.

Inability to throw things away graduates to storing those things under his bed, in his drawers, in his closet. He begins to take extra non-perishable food items from the mess hall and stores it in his desk until he can barely shut the drawers. He takes a box of emergency rations from medbay to keep in his room (Bones tries to talk to him about this, but backs off when Jim snaps at him). These rations make it to the same place they always do, when things get this bad: under his covers, where he curls around them in a distorted fetal position, the sharp corners of the ration bars digging into his sides.

It is, in a warped way, comforting, when he wakes up from his vividly real nightmares of crying children and concave stomachs: the sharp corners of the ration bars reminding him that he’s still alive, still grounded in reality.

Things will get back to normal soon. This mania, Jim knows, will only last for a little less than a month.  Bones unsolicitedly gives him caffeine hypos for the exhaustion, and Jim switches to hot water showers instead of sonics in order to ease his aching back.

Spock is, of course, more observant than Jim would like him to be. He can feel Spock’s eyes on him when he’s rolling his shoulders and wincing on the bridge. There’s a tightness in Spock’s lips when Jim trips over his own words when giving an order and punctuating the ends of his sentences with yawns.

But unlike Bones, Spock doesn’t say anything; doesn’t crowd Jim with questions. It’s a method of friendship that Jim can appreciate, he thinks as he settles in bed for a fifth night with the rations rustling around in his sheets. Spock knows where his business lies, and that’s not poking his nose into Jim’s affairs.

Until the away mission.

They’re running from a pack of particularly hostile aliens. Shortly after leaping over a rock, Jim feels something crack in his spine and he’s on the ground, sprawled flat on his stomach.

Spock has to hoist him over his shoulder and carry him the rest of the way back to the beaming-up coordinates.

“Perhaps a visit to sickbay is in order,” Spock suggests after they’ve energized, watching Jim hobble his way off the platform.

“It’s nothing a hot water bottle won’t fix,” Jim says lightly. Spock looks impassive. Jim waves his hand. “Seriously, Spock, it’s nothing. All sickbay will get me is a Bones barking at me to eat more vegetables and exercise more frequently. I just need a night of rest.”

With an eyebrow raised, Spock suggests, “At least allow me to be your replacement for the rest of your shift, Captain. So that your rest can be expedited to the present instead of seven hours from now.”

Jim does his best to straighten his crooked spine and look stately as he nods in agreement. “Yes, perhaps that’d be good. We have that summit meeting at Starbase 24 tomorrow—wouldn’t want to be at half-mast in front of Admiral Komack.”

Spock’s lips twitch, the only indication that he appreciated Jim’s stab at humor. “Indeed, Captain.”

Jim waits until Spock has left the transporter room before slowly making his way to his quarters, praying that Bone won’t materialize around a corner with a hypo in hand.

For the next seven hours, Jim tries his best to be comfortable lying straight-backed over the rations. They crinkle in protest every time he adjusts. He can practically hear his back shrieking at him every time he moves.

It’s hours of agony until someone beeps the intercom for his door.

Jim barks, sitting up against his pillows, “What?”

“Captain, may I enter?” Spock asks from the other side of the door.

Jim curses under his breath. Sweeps his blanket over any visible rations and pulls it higher over his chest. “You may,” he calls back.

The door slides away to reveal Spock, looking nothing like a man whose had a continuous twenty-four hour shift, with the last seven being acting Captain.

Jim feels a warmth in his chest that tugs his face into a smile. “How was the shift, Spock?”

“Uneventful, Captain. Starbase 24 contacted us to see if we were on course for the summit meeting—I affirmed that we were.”

“Excellent.” Jim feels his lower back spasm; he resists the urge to shift. “I should be ready to beam down at 0800 for the meeting.”

“Yes, sir.” Spock visibly hesitates. “I came to inquire—are you feeling satisfactory?”

Jim scoffs. “Careful, Spock, you’re starting to sound like Bones.”

Spock, if possible, raises himself to straighten further. “I am deeply grieved to hear that, Captain.”

That gets a happy laugh out of Jim; he feels his back relax from the movement. “I apologize, Mr. Spock, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Negative, Captain.” Spock adjusts his hands behind him. “I merely wanted to inquire after your health and see if I could be of any assistance.”

“Assistance? What, are you going to sternly tell my spine to do its logical job and stop causing me grievances?”

There’s a crinkle around the corners of Spock’s eyes. “Negative. I came to offer my chiropractic expertise.”

Jim asks, “Your what now?”

Spock takes a step forward. “My mother was ailed with scoliosis as a child. As a result, she experienced frequent soreness and misalignment in her spine. My father and I thought it only logical to become well-versed on the subject, so that we could help her when needed.”

“Well, that is logical,” Jim says, “but I don’t want to trouble you if—”

“It’s no trouble,” Spock cuts in, almost too quickly. He ducks his head, adding, “Sir.”

There’s a silence that hangs over them. Jim realizes belatedly how dark it is in the room, with the lights only at forty percent. He tries not to appreciate Spock too much in this dim light, how it softens his features and makes his chocolate eyes all the deeper. Spock, his straight-laced Vulcan first officer who essentially just offered to massage him.

“If you are uncomfortable with my suggestion, please say so,” Spock says, voice pitched lower, with a touch of strain. It makes Jim realize that he’s been making Spock wait for his answer.

And it’s this vulnerability in Spock, Jim’s desire to keep Spock from feeling embarrassed, that makes Jim forget the rations in his bed or the food stuffed in his desk drawers. It makes him say, “Of course I’m not, Spock. I would be honored if you helped me.”

Spock nods, shoulders minutely deflating. “Very good, Captain. In that case, I will ask you to sit on the edge of the bed.”

Jim forgets the rations and the food, that is, until Spock moves forward toward him, and puts a hand on it, making a move to sit down. Both of them freeze when Spock’s movement elicits a very loud, very obnoxious crackle.

Spock stares at Jim, silently demanding an explanation. Jim stares right back, feeling his cheeks literally bursting into flame.

“I, uh…” Jim shifts against his pillow; there’s more crackling as the rations are further shifted around in his sheets. “Maybe now isn’t a good time, Spock, I—well—”

Spock is just looking more increasingly horrified, and Jim can’t blame him, especially can’t blame him for lifting up the sheet at Jim’s feet to examine the cause of what’s causing such a racket. Spock sees the rations, at least fifteen clustered around Jim’s ankles alone, and stares.

“Captain…” Spock begins.

Jim feels his jaw working, but he doesn’t know what to say. He stares at his hands.

“Jim—”

“I don’t want to explain,” Jim snaps. He still can’t meet Spock’s eyes, because he knows what he’ll see in them: pity and judgement and something else he doesn’t want to mention. “Don’t ask me to explain, Spock, because I don’t want to, alright? I can’t. Just leave it alone.”

Jim expects Spock to run. To calmly replace the sheet back over Jim’s legs and then bolt right out of the room and then declare the lunatic captain unfit to run the ship.

Instead, Spock stands. He folds his hands behind his back and stands back at a respectable distance. “Jim,” he says again.

When Jim finally looks up at Spock, there’s nothing what he expected: no pity, no judgement, no shame. Just understanding. “Jim, do you want me to leave, or stay?”

Jim swallows; it gets caught in the closing of his throat. He considers only a moment before saying, “Please stay, Spock.”

Spock nods. He gestures for Jim to move to the edge of the bed.

Jim obliges, his legs dangle over the side as he sits in a hunched position. Spock sits behind him, the ration bars crinkling under his weight. If this bothers him, he gives no indication.

Voice steady, Spock says, “I am going to examine your back now, to see where the ailment is stemming from. This won’t take a moment.”

Jim nods. He feels Spock’s gentle but firm fingers press into his back, wandering up and down his spine. There’s a calming rhythm in his explorations of Jim’s muscles, one that makes Jim’s eyes feel heavier, his shoulders feel lighter.

“I found it,” Spock says after a few long minutes. “It’s the lower part of your spine. What position do you often sleep in?”

“On my side,” Jim says. “Often not straight.”

“It could be causing the problem.” Spock’s fingers press into Jim’s lower back, right on the sore spot, and Jim has to suppress a sigh. “I don’t detect it’s spinal; simply the muscles are overworked and tight in this area. It can be solved through massage.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jim says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Indeed. Are you comfortable in this position?”

Jim nods. He feels Spock’s fingers press into his muscles again with more firmness, more direction. “Thank you, Spock,” he says.

“Of course, Captain.”

Taking a steadying breath, Jim continues, “For this and… for not prying.”

Spock is silent. His fingers continue to press into Jim’s back. He finally says, “I will not pry. I simply wish to state that I am available to you in a capacity that goes beyond a First Officer’s duties. As a friend.”

Jim closes his eyes and pushes against the tide of feeling rising in his chest. “I appreciate that, Spock.”

“It is no trouble, Jim,” Spock replies, and continues to push at Jim’s back.

It’s been years since Jim’s allowed something like this. For someone to help him, just for the sake of it. Bones constantly pushes Jim to take care of himself, to seek emotional help—and Jim appreciates it, despite the annoyance of it.

But with Spock, it’s different. With Spock, Jim feel as though he can just allow himself to be helped—mainly, because he knows that Spock will only offer help since it’s the logical thing to do. There’s comfort in that. That logically, friends help each other, so that they can continue on in life being happy and healthy.

It’s logic, Jim insists to himself, that makes him say on a quiet breath, “Tarsus IV.”

Spock’s hands still.

“It’s…” Jim clears his throat. “It’s about Tarsus IV.”

He doesn’t explain further. He knows he doesn’t have to, that Spock is brilliant enough to put the rations and the lack of sleep and the events that happened on that planet together in order to create the whole picture. Jim knows he doesn’t have to, based on the sharp intake of breath Spock takes before his fingers begin gently pushing into Jim’s shirt again.

“‘In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.’” Spock says.

“What?” Jim asks. He turns his head to look at Spock over his shoulder, worried Spock might be having a stroke.

“A quote by Albert Camus I read once,” Spock explains. He puts his hands in his lap. “You possess within you an invincible summer, Jim. This period of winter will not falter it.”

“Metaphors, Mr. Spock?” Jim tries to tease, although his chest is bursting with about twenty different kinds of emotion.

“Only for you, Captain,” Spock spars with a twitch of his lips. “Please turn so that I may continue to aid your back.”

“Yes, sir,” Jim says teasingly, moving his head back to neutral position. He feels a smile, a genuine smile that he hasn’t felt in weeks, pull at his lips. He closes his eyes and focuses on Spock’s brilliant fingers pushing into the tight spots Jim didn’t even know he had, drawing out the pain and smoothing it out.

And if Spock leans in further toward Jim’s back, enough so that Jim can feel the warmth emanating from his friend, Jim just smiles and doesn’t say a word.

↳ prompts are open for mowripro, send one to my askbox.

[rsbry-beret]

Intent At Tuning In On You

Find it on Ao3 here!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191749

Tobin wasn’t trying to snoop. That should be cleared up right away- it was a real, actual accident that he found Leif’s personal laptop still open on his desk, signed into YouTube and everything.

Yeah, he hadn’t knocked before he came in like he was supposed to. Leif had a weird policy about ‘personal privacy’ and ‘I respect your space, please respect mine’. Probably because of that one time in college when Tobin had walked in on him- anyway, Tobin thought it was a stupid policy, but it was Leif’s stupid policy, so he didn’t argue.

And sure, when Leif hadn’t answered Tobin had come in, but that wasn’t unreasonable! Leif could have slipped on his immaculate and regularly mopped floors and he could be bleeding out from his head. Really, Tobin was being responsible by checking on him.

Maybe when Tobin saw that Leif wasn’t in the room, he hadn’t left immediately. Sue him, he was hardly ever in here- he and Leif usually chilled in the living room together, and between Leif’s ‘privacy, seriously Tobin, do I need to use it in a sentence?’ and the fact that they had the same work hours, Tobin didn’t usually have a reason to be in there.

Once Tobin was in the room, he happened to remember that Leif was out for groceries. Whoops? Well, if he was in there anyway he may as well look around, just to tidy up. It’d be a welcome surprise for Leif, coming back to a clean room.

Of course, the room was already spotless. Whatever.

Leif’s room was exactly what one might guess- white walls with one blue accent wall, dark wood furniture. Fucking- Tobin blinked. Three bookshelves somehow wedged in the tiny room, all bursting with a weird assortment of classic literature and graphic novels and no less than four dictionaries. The two of them had moved in at the same time, but they were both so busy trying to get all their stuff up the stairs before having to pay for an extra hour with the U-Haul that Tobin hadn’t really had the time to see what Leif’s room looked like.

There was one lone cactus sitting precariously on the window sill. Tobin looked at it and smiled.

More interestingly, Leif’s personal laptop was sitting, open, on the desk. Tobin felt himself glide over before he could even pretend to stop himself.

On the screen was a little loading bar, 98% complete, with little text that said uploading… please do not log out at this time…

The computer pinged, and set back to a YouTube homepage. Oh holy shit. This was Leif’s password-protected, ridiculously-private, undoubtedly-personal video diary.

And Tobin had access to the whole thing, right that second.

He backed away from the desk very quickly, not trusting himself not to click through and watch them all. His foot snagged on something, probably the dangerously clean hardwood floors, and Tobin fell, gracelessly, onto Leif’s perfectly-made bed with a whoomp.

<>

By the time Leif got back from the store, Tobin was sitting on the couch watching Star Trek and acting, if he said so himself, totally casual.

Leif dropped his reusable tote bag (his favorite one, with the whale decal that was made from 100% recycled materials, because he was just that kind of guy) on the kitchen counter and immediately turned around to look at Tobin, hands on his hips and ice cream left to melt rapidly outside of the freezer.

“Need any help, bro?” Tobin asked nervously.

Leif squinted. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Dude.”

“Nothing! You know, Leif, in a friendship you need to trust the other person.”

Leif sighed and turned to open the freezer. “For the record, you’re so full of shit I can literally smell it, but rocky road is more valuable to me than this conversation.”

“Ouch. Leif that was… ice cold.” Tobin tried to pay attention to Spock, and failed, like the snoopy monster he was.

“Stop,” Leif said quietly, in that strangely-fond tone of voice he only ever used when Tobin made a joke that he was trying not to laugh at.

Netflix asked Tobin if he was still there. He wasn’t sure if he was, actually, but he clicked for the next episode to start anyway.

Leif always refused to ask for Tobin’s help putting the groceries away, another weird independence thing he had, and Tobin had learned by now that if he argued with Leif on adulting-things he’d just get pissy for a few hours. As it was, Tobin paid more attention to the sound of cupboards opening and closing a few yards away from him than he did the title sequence.

Tobin couldn’t really believe he was listening to Leif doing chores instead of Captain Kirk doing… something.

Leif sat down on the couch next to him. “What episode, dude?”

“Uh…” Tobin fumbled with the remote before dropping it on the floor, batteries scattering. Leif stared. “I don’t… know?”

Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by an urgent “beam me up, Scotty!” spoken from the screen. Slowly, Leif slid from the couch to kneel on the floor, fixing the remote and turning off the tv.

Leif sat back down next to Tobin.

“Okay, for real, what’s up with you right now?”

Tobin panicked. “I went into your room!”

Leif froze. Then, slowly and purposefully, asked “is that all?”

“I know you don’t like it when I invade your privacy and shit. Seriously, I’m sorry man…” Tobin looked at his hands fidgeting with his ring before laying his hands flat on his knees, forcing himself to look up at Leif.

“Right,” he said, still sounding cautious. “Well, thank you for telling me-“

“Your laptop was open.”

Jesus Christ, Tobin needed to learn how to shut his mouth.

Leif sat up straight, stiff, like he wasn’t sure if he should run away or something, which was- which was not good, definitely.

“As in, my laptop was open and you saw what was on the screen?”

“As in, your laptop was open and I saw that it was still on and that a video was uploading and I was really curious but-“

Leif cut him off this time, voice high as he rushed out “I am so sorry, Tobin. I didn’t want you to find out this way.” He sounded out of breath, like he just got back from jogging or was about to hyperventilate, or… well, probably he was about to hyperventilate.

Shit, he was about to hyperventilate.

“Hey, woah, Leif.” Tobin quickly scooched over, lifting his arm and laying it around Leif’s shaking shoulders, letting gravity pull him down so he was slumping against Leif.

When Leif got like this, buzzing and anxious and flighty, he needed something to keep him feeling grounded. Tobin first found out about it in sixth grade, right before their Greek mythology debate, when Leif wouldn’t stop pacing until Tobin snapped and tugged him into a tight hug.

Just like when they were eleven, Leif immediately melted into Tobin, ducking his head under Tobin’s chin and exhaling warmly against his collarbone.

They sat there quietly for a while, Tobin breathing as slowly as possible in the hopes that Leif would match it. He rubbed Leif’s back absentmindedly.

Eventually Leif spoke again, still pressed against Tobin’s chest, but words clear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin everything, and I’ll get over you, I swear, I just need more time. I’m sorry, Tobin. I’m so sorry.”

Tobin blinked. His hand froze on Leif’s back. What.

“What?”

Leif pulled back haltingly, like he didn’t want to at all. “I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay, because you’re my best friend first. I just don’t want to lose you, man.” Leif scratched at his neck.

Tobin blue screened

“No, wait, what? Back up, please. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Leif’s eyebrows furrowed. “You saw what was on my laptop, right?”

Tobin leaned forward slightly. “Yeah. You had your YouTube thing up, and I really wanted to look at it but I knew you’d never forgive me, so I didn’t look, but I shouldn’t have been there in the first place and I invaded your privacy and so I wanted to apologize.”

Tobin watched as Leif’s face contorted rapidly. He tried to count out all the emotions he saw there- confusion, panic, realization- before giving up. Eventually he settled on something trying to be casual but looking more horrified than anything else.

“Oh. Right. Okay, then.” Leif’s ears were bright red. He tried to stand, but Tobins hand was still half on his shoulder, so Tobin pulled him back down again.

“No. No, not okay. What were you saying, Leif?” Tobin could feel his heart, not quite stuck in his throat but up in his shoulders, tense and beating fast and too hard.

“I think you know,” he said quietly.

Tobin dragged his hand down Leif’s arm, folding around his hand. “I think I need you to tell me.”

Leif stared at their intertwined hands before looking up and meeting Tobin’s eyes. “I’m in love with you, Tobin Batra.”

It wasn’t a surprise, in hindsight. But it was different to know something, intrinsically and unquestionably, in the back of his head, than it was to hear it out loud and in the open.

Leif Donnelly was in love with him. He tried the words out in his head, curled his mouth around it silently. It felt… nice.

Leif was still staring at him, hopeful, but Tobin wasn’t done thinking yet. He held his hand tighter. “Give me a minute?”

Leif’s face fell. “Yeah, of course, dude.” He half-stood again, but Tobin didn’t let go.

“No.” Leif looked confused, torn, a little hurt. “No, stay. I just- stay for a minute while I think?”

Tobin watched as something unfolded in Leifs eyes. He sat down again, calm and soft, and held Tobin’s hand back just as tight.

Leif Donnelly was in love with him. Was he in love with Leif Donnelly? He stared at Leif’s eyes, blue and bright and shining even in the light of their shitty IKEA lamp that they bought together for Leif’s college dorm. He stared at the curve of his nose, at his lips and his floppy hair and his ears that were still a little red.

Tobin felt the weight of Leif’s hand in his hand. Tobin didn’t really want that to go away, ever. He couldn’t think of a single time he wanted that to go away, honestly, which meant that whatever he was feeling wasn’t new.

So, he was in love with Leif, and had been since before he knew what it was. Good to know.

“I’m in love with you too,” Tobin finally said. Leif’s hand went slack and his head jolted slightly, as if this was any surprise at all. “I kind of only realized right this second, but yeah, I’ve definitely been in love with you for a while.”

Leif swayed slightly, backwards and then forwards again. And then forwards more, so their noses were almost touching but not quite, and it was a little weird to try to meet his eyes, so Tobin just closed his eyes and brought his other hand up to Leif’s jaw, holding him there.

It felt nice to hold him. To just be this close to him. He wondered how he hadn’t figured this out sooner.

Well, he was glad he figured it out now, at least. No point lingering over lost time when the two of them had so much ahead of them.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Tobin said quietly, “and then I’m going to explain to you that if I’d wanted to watch your vlogs I would’ve just hacked into the YouTube servers again, and that I didn’t because I care about you . Is that okay?”

Leif leaned forward the rest of the way, and that was answer enough.

Title from Video Killed The Radio Star by The Buggles

[grandtheftstarship]

I Will Spend My Whole Life Loving You (Spock x Fem!Reader) [Request!]

“Fic Request: Spock x Fem!Reader (Vulcan/Human hybrid) go on a romantic date!”

”Headcanon or Fic Request: fem!Reader being married to Spock!”

“Request: Spock x Human-Vulcan Fem!Reader get married on the Enterprise. Preferably TOS Spock please.”

- @sovereignoblivious

Hi there! Thank you for requesting :) I decided to mash these all into one since they are all kind of similar. I hope you don’t mind! Also, I write for mainly AOS but nothing really distinguishes it from TOS so you can imagine it taking place in TOS if you would like! I also totally forgot about the vulcan/human hybrid until I was about 1k words in, so if it’s not as well represented I’m so sorry!! I tried to fit it in as best I could :(

I wrote this like a recap of your relationship with Spock, so there’s not much dialogue. I tried to be as detailed as possible!

Also, sorry for the lack of updates... the school year just ended and I went on vacation for two weeks to visit my family in Hawai’i! I had no wifi for nearly 10 days and let me tell you it was AWFUL. Haha. I’m so glad to be home. The rest of this summer will hopefully be full of updates! Keep the requests coming!

ALSO, THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE FOLLOWS!!!!! I gained 20 more followers while I was away! I love you all so much :D!!!

Word Count: 2377 Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of self-harm/self-loathing

Send a request!

You had absolutely hated Spock at first. Boiling, raw, pure hatred for him, even though your reasons were unfair and you knew it. 

Your initial thought was to just avoid him as much as possible, but that plan was eventually foiled when you realized how difficult that was going to be when he was in almost all of your classes, his dorm was literally directly across the street (like you could look out your window and see right through his window, how you both happened to be on the 17th floor in separate buildings and the same room number was beyond you) and you saw him probably more than ten times a day. 

He was there on the walk to class in the morning, there during class, there during lunch hour, even there sometimes on the walk home after class. Once you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your professors started pairing the two of you for group projects. When you asked why, all of their answers ran along the same lines: ‘You both need to learn to get along’ or ‘You could learn a lot from each other’ and other shit like that. You started getting suspicious when you suddenly had four projects assigned with him as your partner. You asked your friends about it when you were getting frustrated and all they did was share a look between each other and shrug. When you and Spock set a date to finally start working on all of your projects, you started dreading it. You found yourself lingering around, whether it be to ask a professor a question that you already knew the answer to after class was over or staying late at the library so that you wouldn't have to go to bed and wake up the next morning, a whole day closer to doomsday. You tried to tell yourself that the reason you were doing that was because you hated him and didn’t want to be around him for any amount of time, but when the familiar burning sensation you always felt when thinking of him started morphing into something else you got scared. The change startled you, suddenly feeling self-conscious and unsure as opposed to your typically confident nature. It was all so new and it was especially frightening when you didn’t have enough time to unpack it before your workday with Spock, so, instead of dealing with it, you tried to push it all down.  

When the day finally came, it took every ounce of willpower you had to roll out of bed and get dressed. It was a Saturday so you didn’t need to be dressed in uniform, so you went with some black sweats that had ‘STARFLEET’ written down one side and a  [f/c] tank top. It was a little chilly outside, so you threw your favorite hoodie on as you walked out the door. You tied your hair back in the elevator, careful to leave enough down to cover your ears, put your keycard into the side pocket of your backpack and you started the walk to the campus library. 

If there was one thing you were most self-conscious about it was your Vulcan ears. You didn’t like your Vulcan side as much because of your father. He was half-Vulcan half-human, while you were three-quarters human and only one-fourth Vulcan. You were glad you only inherited the ears, not the eyebrows. You and your father didn’t have the best relationship, or any relationship at all, really, and you never knew why. He was often strict and unfeeling, never exercising his human side in front of you. He left when you were eight years old for a Vulcan science mission and never came back. Your mother still loved him, though you never saw him show any sign of affection back. You always believed your mother deserved better, and that was when your hatred for Vulcans started to manifest. Starting with yourself. 

A few years after he left you fell into a dark place, although you were exceptional at hiding it. You would often stare at your sharply pointed ears in the mirror and pull on them, hoping that if you pulled hard enough from the bottom they would even out. You would wear earmuffs year-round so that nobody would see. When you were fifteen, you snuck out and got them pierced several times so that they would appear more human. They also compelled you to become more emotional to appear less like your father. 

You shook yourself out of your reverie as you walked out of the front entrance of your building. 

Luckily for you, Spock was not walking down the opposite sidewalk so you slid your headphones under your hood over your ears and shuffled your playlist. The walk was much shorter than you would’ve preferred and you sauntered up the steps into the vast hall. Since everybody was off, the library was used more as a hangout area than a quiet study hall, save for the actual study hall in the back, so it was a bit louder than usual. 

You spotted Spock sitting at one of the smaller open tables next to one of the windows overlooking the grounds. The fluttery-anxious feeling was back again, causing you to swallow hard as you approached him. 

“Hey,” you called as he looked up from the window. 

“Hey,” he greeted, somewhat awkwardly. Setting your backpack down, you sat down across from him. He was wearing casual clothes too; a plain green sweater and some jeans, though you thought it was cute how he still wore his badge. You shut your eyes tightly and cursed yourself. 

I don’t think he looks cute, I don’t think he looks cute, I don’t think he looks cute-

“[y/n], are you feeling alright?” he asked. 

You opened your eyes and glared at him. 

“Fine, just mentally preparing,” you snapped. 

He did what you could only assume was his version of an eye roll, but what surprised you was the flicker of a smile that passed over his features. It was only there for a fraction of a second, but your cheeks reddened as your heart raced.

What is happening to me?

“Would you like to begin?” he started pulling out papers and you gulped.

This was going to be a long day.

Surprisingly, that wasn’t the case. You had never really sat down and talked with Spock before, and to your astonishment, he was a really cool person. You both talked for hours, barely getting any work done, and before you knew it the library was empty and it was almost nine pm. You packed up your things and headed back towards your dorms you continued to talk and he continued to make you laugh and once you made it to the front entrance of your building you couldn’t even remember why you had hated him in the first place. 

You smiled and told him goodnight, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks. You swore that you saw his own cheeks tint green. You both stared back at each other for a moment, feeling yourself gravitate towards each other for a brief second before you realized what you were doing and leaned back a little. He bid you goodnight and with the tiniest little smile you had ever seen, he turned away and crossed the street. You shook yourself out of your daze and hurried inside, texting your friends to meet you asap in your dorm. Even though it was late, you knew your friends and their Saturday night habits. 

You asked them about Spock again, this time a little less aggressively. They looked shocked at your calm, almost lovestruck expression settled over your features, glancing worriedly between themselves. 

Your friends were there for hours talking with you about your feelings and how you were to deal with them until you all fell asleep. They told you that this was just a case of misinterpretation of feelings, so when you felt so strongly towards Spock you mistook it for hatred when it was really admiration and infatuation. The confirmed that the same thing had happened to Spock, though he had realized much sooner. When you asked them what that meant, they dropped the bombshell on you.

“[y/n],” [friend’s name] said gently. “Spock has been smitten with you since midterms. Almost everyone knows, except for you apparently.”

You sat and stared for a minute, unsure how to react. Giddiness rose above all the other emotions you were feeling, forcing a smile to form on your lips. You felt all choked up, excitement raising your heartrate and slowly taking away your ability to breathe.

“So, even the teachers know?” you managed to force out. Your friends chuckled. 

The teachers assumed something was going on, but didn’t know for sure since you acted so hostile towards him all the time so they went out of their way to pair you and Spock together. 

You thanked your friends and invited them to stay the night. 

The next day you had planned to work with Spock again, so you left your friends a note and told them they could stay as long as they liked as long as they locked the door before they left. 

You met Spock at the library again but this time you actually did get some work done, and quickly. When you both finished, you packed your things and took a walk around the grounds. You talked all day about random things, interests, favorites, childhood (you tried your best to leave out the part about your father) and a little bit about your hopes for the future. You did most of the talking, though Spock did contribute on occasion, like he talked a bit about his love (or as he put it, ‘subtle interest’ but you knew better) for music and his passion for science.  

Hours passed quickly and the sunset came quickly. You and Spock were sat on a grassy slope overlooking the San Fransisco Bay, watching the sunset. 

“[y/n], I have something to confess,” he broke the silence. You turned to him.

“Go ahead.”

“The truth of the matter is that I harbor no malice or hatred towards you,” he started, looking away from you. Even in the dim golden light from the descending sun, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “My... feelings towards you are quite the opposite.”

You stared blankly at him for a moment. Even though you had already known, hearing it come from his was a totally different story. You scooted a little closer to him and placed your head down on his shoulder. He relaxed beneath you, accepting the action as one of reciprocation. You felt his hand brush over yours and the spark that followed after confirmed a Vulcan kiss. You raised your head up to meet his eyes, which flickered between your lips and back up. You leaned in slowly to give him time to back out if he wasn’t comfortable, but to your surprise, he was the one to close the distance. 

This kiss was sweet and only lasted a few seconds. When you pulled away, you could see the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. Your smile faded, though, when you remembered your lie. 

“I have to tell you something,” you said softly. He nodded slowly, letting you remove your hand from his light hold.

You pulled your hood back and tucked your hair behind your now exposed ear. You couldn’t look him in the eye as he stared at your earring-ridden ear that mirrored his. 

“You’re... Vulcan?” 

“A quarter,” you replied softly, wringing your hands in your lap. Spock reached out to grasp them in his own, forcing you to look back up into his eyes. 

“Why did you feel the need to hide this from me?” he asked you gently. “It would not and does not change the effect that you have on me.”

So, you explained in the waning sunlight what actually happened in your childhood and the issues with your father, why you ended up hating all Vulcans and that’s why you hated him too in the beginning. 

“You don’t need to be ashamed of your heritage because of him,” he told you when you finished. “You don’t need to hide part of who you are because of his mistakes. I can assist you in exploring our culture to help change your views if you would like.”

You threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” you murmured.

                                                      _____________

You and Spock stayed together for the remaining years at the academy. You brought him home to meet your mother (who instantly approved) and you did almost everything together. Date night was your favorite time of the week, which ranged from movie nights or fancy dinners. Your favorite one was when he took you out of the city to go stargazing and set up the cutest little picnic complete with lanterns and fairy lights. It was romantic and beautiful being there with him and listening to the wildlife as the stars made themselves known. He showed you all the constellations he knew of. 

Before you knew it you were both assigned on missions. At first, you were separated; you on the USS Bradbury and him on the USS Enterprise, but with some convincing, you were reassigned to the Enterprise. 

After your first run-in with danger when Nero attacked and your near-death experience, Spock decided it was time to pop the question. You were married not long after by Jim, who you had gotten very close to because of Spock. You had asked Nyota to be your maid of honor and Spock chose Leonard (who agreed despite his recurring annoyance with the Vulcan). You were awarded a larger, shared quarters and time off duty to spend time together. 

Married life was much more normal than you had originally thought it was going to be. Everything just started to slow down around you, and you always had a sense of calm whenever Spock was near you. The butterflies you always felt when he was around died down and instead you felt an overwhelming amount of safety and comfort. 

He was all you had ever wanted, and he was forever yours.

[annoyedfanfiction]

Security Chief

Pike x fem!reader (4)

You managed 7 hours and 28 minutes of sleep before you were once again woken by the door chime, and you managed not to knock over your armchair on the way to the door. Double win. You blinked against the corridor lights, vaguely registering Spock’s tall, lean figure through your sleep-slurred vision. “Spock, I thought I told you not to wander around on your own while the Captain is out,” you questioned, pulling your door open to let them in to your significantly darker room. “Lights, 40%.” “Nice to see you too, (Y/N).” Chris’ voice was husky and weak, but undeniably his. You spun back around to look at them more clearly, finding Spock standing behind the wheelchair Chris was seated in. “Chris!” you smiled, happily. “When did you wake up?” “An hour or so ago,” he answered, as you set about making tea. “I was told to ‘wait an hour or so help me god you will be back in this bed before you can say hi’. Apparently you had a long day yesterday, taking a planet singlehandedly.” “It wasn’t exactly a difficult negotiation.” You handed Spock a mug of Vulcan tea. “Except some also called a “Metron” came to tell us all off for having ‘violent intentions’ and tried to make me and the Gorn leader duel because we were ‘uncivilised’.” Your door chimed again, and you called for them to enter, revealing Michael. “Oh, hi Captain,” she inclined her head, politely, “I’m here for Spock.” Spock made to set down his mug of tea, a little reluctantly, but you waved it away. “If you like, you can take it with you,” you told him, easily. “Vulcan tea is hard to come by on predominantly-human space ships, it’d be a shame to waste it. Just bring back the mug when you get a chance.” He nodded, thanking you politely, and you earned a grateful smile from Michael, before the siblings disappeared from your quarters, leaving you and Chris alone.

“He proposed a duel and tried to call you uncivilised?” Chris questioned, thanking you for the mug of normal tea you handed him.  “Apparently violent impulses make us uncivilised, even if we don’t act on them.” You sipped your tea, rolling your eyes. “I’m glad I’m not a diplomat because I probably would’ve been less likely to tell him to fuck off if I was.” “Probably,” Chris agreed, laughing. The door chimed again, and you called enter, only for a flustered looking Hugh to stumble through. “(Y/N), the Captain– oh, fuck you,” he started, leaning back against the closed door in relief. “You can’t just disappear from medbay after being unconscious for three days!” “You didn’t tell him you were leaving?” you demanded, turning on Chris. “He said I couldn’t!” Chris defended, folding his arms. “Oh, that’s so much better,” you snapped, handing him your mug of tea as well, and beginning to push him towards the door. “The doctor said you shouldn’t leave medbay because you’re wounded, so you sneak out!” “I wanted to see you,” he complained, pouting. “Next time, don’t give me a heart attack, lover-boy,” Hugh commented, following the two of you back through the corridors. “What did you call me?” Chris questioned, defensively. “You heard me!” Hugh answered, defiantly, hooking him back up to the monitor. 

“Has there been some kind of medbay scandal I haven’t heard about?” you inquired, returning to the seat beside Chris’ bed you’d camped out in for three days. “Who’s lover-boy loving?” You ignored the pang in your chest as you asked and smirked instead. “What?” Hugh asked, incredulously. “You don’t know?” “I literally woke up twenty minutes ago when he and Spock came knocking,” you replied, defensively. “How am I meant to know?” “...you know, good point,” Hugh tried, lamely. “I’ll leave you two to it.” “Hugh?” you inquired, a little more dangerously. He waved, pulling the door shut behind him. “Well, that was fun. Sooo, who’s your medbay scandal then, Chris? I’m surprised, honestly, I always thought you had a thing for Una.” “Una?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Well, Captain and First Officer, it kind of makes sense,” you shrugged, “You two spend so much time together, you know her almost as well as I do.” He laughed a little, but there was a hint of exasperation at its edge as he gestured for you to sit on the edge of the bed. “Una and I always have been and will be friends, (Y/N),” he pointed out, shaking his head. “You of all people must know that.” “Hey, I never said it was a requited thing,” you surrendered, holding your hands up, “I just thought you had a thing.” “Oof, good to know I’m not hot enough for your sister,” he teased, grinning. “I’m not sure it’s a hotness thing,” you laughed, completely blown away by the fact he’d not caught on. “You’re just a bit too...masculine to be her type.”

“Are you saying I’m hot, (Y/N)?” he asked, grin widening. “I’m not saying you’re not,” you hedged, leaning closer to where he was sitting. “There’s a slight issue with the hole in your chest at the moment.” You rested a pointed finger gently on the compress around his chest. “Way to kick a man when he’s down,” Chris complained, folding his arms. “I didn’t mean to get shot.” “It’s a good thing you’re handsome, honey,” you taunted, “Because you never did learn to shut that pretty mouth.” “Ha! So you do think I’m handsome,” he exclaimed, triumphantly. “Chris, even the lesbians on this ship think you’re handsome.” You rolled your eyes, shifting in to sit in your lean. “It’s more a fact than an opinion.” “You’re sending very mixed messages here,” he grumbled, without shifting the amusement from his eyes. “And you still haven’t told me who your medbay scandal is,” you responded, cheekily. “There wasn’t a medbay scandal,” Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. “Hugh’s just having a go.” “You sure got defensive over him ‘having a go’,” you pressed. “C’mon Chris, who’s the lucky girl?” He mumbled something unintelligible. “What was that?” “I said, it’s a more a question of whether I’m going to be a lucky guy,” he repeated, huffily.  “Oooh, so you haven’t asked her yet!” you snickered, happily, “This just gets better and better.” “You know, some people would consider it weird to talk about yourself in the third person,” Chris commented, offhandedly. “I mean, in Standard, it is a bit weird,” you answered, frowning. “Was that a weird attempt to throw me off the trail? I guess it depends. People do it sometimes as a hypothetic–oh.” You felt the heat rush to your cheeks and you looked back up to meet Chris’ eyes. “OH.” “Reassuring, thanks,” he said, flatly, but with no real heat. “So, uh, dinner or nah?” “How about breakfast?” 

[cleocat246]

Star Trek

Chapter One

Summary: Hailey Pike, a Starfleet officer and daughter goes through Life and Space while trying to help as many people as she can. With species and events trying to destroy mankind and everything in existence. She has to save the people she loves and also the universe with the help of new friends and crew members.

=====================================

“We are losing her!”

Yelling.

“We can’t do anything!”

No.

“We tried everything we could.”

Please no.

“I’m sorry.”

Why.

“There was too much internal damage and bleeding to the brain, and major body functions started shutting down.”

Please. Why.

Waking up with a gasp and sweat coating my body, I kick the blankets off of me. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I drop my sweaty forehead into my hands. I was trying to get control over my breathing, but it wasn't working so well.

I started looking around the room to calm myself when I remembered that I was in a hotel room and not my actual one. Breathing a sigh, I look over at the clock next to my bed, seeing it was earlier than I hoped it was.

Rubbing my face one last time, I stand up to make my way over to the bathroom for a cold shower. One by one, I started peeling off my sweat-covered nightwear as I try not to crash into anything on my way.

Turning the water on, I step in and relish the fact that my body was getting clean. As the water soaks my hair and face, I close my eyes, and my mind dulls into fogginess. The moment was calming, but everything starts coming at me, be it images and memories, it stung.

It doesn’t stop. 

It won’t stop. 

It never does.

Opening my eyes, I grab my body wash and clean myself and then my hair before sighing while stepping out. Wrapping the fluffy towel around my body, I walk to the door and step out into the hotel room. Getting dressed, I run my hands through my hair and behind my pointed ears before putting on my mother's necklace.

Walking to the kitchen area, I yawn and stretch while cracking my back. I start heating up the water for my morning tea to relax before leaning against the counter and sighing.

My father, Christopher Pike, was in the hotel room next to mine, most likely getting more sleep than me. We are currently in Iowa with all the new Starfleet cadets on our way back to San Francisco, where Starfleet academy is.

The dream- well, more nightmare was starting to replay in my head again. The same thing happens every morning, I wake up sweating from a nightmare, take an ice-cold shower, and then tea. Tea and Hot Chocolate seem to be the best route to calming myself in the morning.

Whistling then went off next to me, making me look over and see it was the water. I don't really like using replicators, so I don't use them if I don't have to. It never makes my tea right. Getting the tea in the mug and then the water, I walk over to the big window and open it before sitting on a chair. 

Looking out at the sky, blue was starting to come through as the sun rises over the horizon. This is a moment I never want to leave; it's peaceful.

After watching the sunrise and finishing the tea, there was a knock at the door. Putting the cup in the sink, I make my way over and open the door.

The person on the other side smiles and says, good morning.

“Morning, dad.”

“I���m not surprised you’re already up and about.” He states, walking in after I open the door some more, “The same dream?”

“Every night,” I mutter with distaste.

“Well, if you need to talk, I’m here,” Dad says, making me smile and nod, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” I smile, remembering that once we get to the academy, I’ll be helping Spock with working on his Kobayashi Maru no-win scenario test. I have always wanted to work with Spock more, and this is an excellent chance for it.

=============================================

It was later in the evening, and we were at this bar near the Riverside Shipyard. I was still too young to drink, but I can be in the building, just not near the bar. I was currently talking to my father and a couple other commanders when what sounded like a fight broke out in the next room.

My father walks over to the doors, opening them as I follow him to see what was happening. It was a Starfleet cadet holding a man down on a table punching him repeatedly. You can tell my father was not impressed just by the look on his face. He whistles, getting everyone's attention.

The cadet lets go of the guy, making him fall back on the table and wince. The cadet stood frightened, but I focused more on the man with blood smeared on his face. My face scrunches up, looking at him because it just reminds me of the time I got the shit beaten out of me.

“Outside, all of you.” Authority in his tone while speaking made everyone flinch but me, “Now!” That made the cadet answer and scurry away with all the other recruits following while grumbling. “You all right, son?”

“You can whistle really loud, you know that?” The man slurred, but it was still easy to understand him. That comment made my father chuckle lightly, and I giggle. I walk over to make make sure nothing was broken. 

“You’re beautiful.” He admires breathly with wide eyes and his mouth open. 

“Well, hello to you too!” I giggle while grabbing the back of his head and helping him into a sitting position. His eyes never leave my face as I help him stand. He staggers a little, but I’m able to get him into a chair.

The manager and owner are busy telling everyone to leave, so I ask the bartender if they had a first aid kit. He grabs it for me as I grab a random drink off the counter and head back to the table. 

My father was sitting in the chair opposite him and reading his PADD. I set the kit down and hand the drink over to the bloodied guy. He takes it and chugs it before looking at me in the eyes.

The brilliant blue of his eyes stares at me like the ocean on a calm day; they are so beautiful. He smirks lightly but then winces in pain. I open the kit and get to work on stopping his gushing nose. 

“Got a name, pretty eyes.” I tease lightly, smiling, putting tissues in his nose. He chuckles but answers, “Jim Kirk.” he sounded nasally.

I stop what I was doing as the name Kirk rang through my head. I've heard that name before from my father and from Starfleet records. I shake my head, getting back to work on Jim's face.

I put the bloody towels and wipes in a pile and get up to get more; I also grab another drink for Jim, so he would sit still. Getting back to the table, I sit on the edge and hand the glass over. Jim and my father started up a conversation after exchanging names.

“You know, I couldn’t believe it when you told my daughter who you are.” My father says, smiling a little.

“She’s your daughter?!” Jim says, pointing up at me, making me laugh, “but who am I, Captain Pike?” Chugging his drink again and wincing. 

“Your father’s son.”

Jim looks at the man in front of him before turning and asking the bartender for another drink.

“For my dissertation, I was assigned the U.S.S Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad, he didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“He sure learned his lesson.” Jim state while sniffing and went to touch his nose. I swat his hands away, “Don't touch your face.” I then take out some tissues before lifting his head and checking his nose.

“Well, it depends on how you define winning. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Thanks.” A drink was placed in front of Jim, and he grabs it. 

“You know, that instinct to leap without looking that was his nature, too.” My father says, “And in my opinion, it’s something Starfleet’s lost-”

“Why are you talking to me, man?” Jim smiles and chuckles while shaking his head. I grab his chin again and make him look up so I can get the blood right under his nose without hurting him.

“ 'cause I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor and on my daughter.”

“Dad!”

“Your aptitude tests are off the charts. So what is it?” The Captain asks, “You like being the only genius-level repeat offender in the Midwest?”

“Maybe I love it.” Jim scoffed, looking off to the side

“Seriously doubt that,” I snort, making him look up at me and smirk.

“And why is that?” he raises an eyebrow, “You don’t like cowboys?”

“Oh, trust me, I do. But almost an hour ago, you were getting your face beaten in on this table.” I smirk back at him. His eyes widened slightly, and he looked surprised but just smirked even more. “Now turn your head you have a cut.”

“Jim, so your dad dies. You can settle for a less-than-ordinary life. Or do you feel like you were meant for something better? Something special?”

Jim’s eyebrow twitches while he turns away. Yet again, I grab his chin and gently force him forward.

“Enlist in Starfleet.” My father finally says.

Jim chuckles, “Enlist?” he looks down and snorts while smiling, “You guys must be way down on your recruiting quota for the month-”

“If you’re half the man your father was, Jim, Starfleet could use you.” The older man states, “You can be an officer in four years. You can have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don’t you? It’s important. It’s a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada-”

“Are we done?” 

“I’m done.” My father says, getting up and sighing, “Riverside Shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow, 0800.”

Jim tips his glass up and looks at the table.

“Now, your father was Captain of a starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother’s. And yours.” My father smiles, “I dare you to do better.” He moves to leave, but before he does, he pats my shoulder.

“You go along. I’ll make my way soon.” I smile up at my dad while grabbing and squeezing his hand. He smiles back and walks out the door. Jim was still looking at the table, but instead of alcohol, he had a U.S.S Kelvin salt shaker in his hand.

“I think you should do it,” I insist while smiling, “Enlist, I mean.” The blue-eyed male in front of me looked into my eyes, sitting and staring, nothing else. Sighing, he shifts in his seat before touching his nose.

“Stop it!” I snap, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from his face, “Don’t touch, or it’s going to hurt.”

“Ehhh, I’m used to it,” Smirking, he pats my knee before looking away. I bring my hand up under his chin to make him look at me. “Seriously, though, you should enlist. It’ll do you some good. And the name's Hailey.”

“Well, Hailey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffs lightly but doesn’t break eye contact. I bring my hand to his cheek, “You might not get into a lot of fights while in Starfleet. Like my father said, you would do great, you have a high IQ, you need to show it.” I lightly pat his cheek and get up, walking to the door. Opening the door, I turn around and see him gazing at me, “Plus, we would get to see each other more!” Smiling, I turn and leave. I smile to myself, walking through the parking lot, hoping he does choose to join.  

‘Don’t get too attached.’ 

“Jesus!” I say under my breath while stopping, “I forgot about you.”

‘You wound me. But seriously, don’t get attached. Remember what happened last time.’

“Yes, I know,” Sighing, I continue walking. Getting to the end of the almost empty parking lot, I see my father leaning against the hood of the car. He was staring up at the stars but looks over at me when he hears my footsteps.

"Took you long enough." 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I chuckle, “Do you think he’s going to join?”

“I don’t know,” He answers before sighing and looking at the stars one last time. He stands up and heads for the driver's side, "Let’s head out we have a big day tomorrow.”

“That we do!” Smiling, I head to the passenger side and get in.

Big day, indeed.

======================================

I was waiting in front of the shuttle in the shipyard as my father walks up to me, "You still waiting for him?"  

"I have faith," I smile, running my hands down my uniform. I was currently wearing my black Starfleet uniform looking all proper. I then felt a hand on my shoulder, "It's time. We need to get on."

Disappointment flashes across my face as I sigh, "Okay," I then turn and head to the shuttle door with my father. But before I got to the steps, I heard an engine that made me turn. It was coming from a motorcycle, and the person on it was Jim, who got off and threw his keys to a construction worker who complimented it. He then walks over to us, "Four years? I'll do it in three." He turns to the Shuttle and starts jogging up the steps.

I grin at my father before turning and skipping up the steps of the shuttle. I caught up to Jim and was about to say something when he rams his head into a metal beam. I try stifling a laugh, but it did work as it made the male turn around and look at me, rubbing his forehead.

"Am I always going to have to fix you up?" I tease while crossing my arms.  He chuckles and smirks but turns back around and heads for an open seat. He sits down, and I take the spot on his right. I start buckling up when Jim starts talking to a Cadet about her first name.

"Imma take it, you were hitting on her, and either a friend or an angry boyfriend didn't like it," I tease, staring at the man who just quietly snorts and smiles, "And that's why you got your ass kicked."

He started grinning and was about to make a sarcastic comment but was stopped by yelling. A man came in with a Starfleet worker arguing about having a seat and being a doctor.

"I told you people, I don't need a doctor, damn it, I am a doctor!" The man said while being pulled into the seating area.

"You need to get back to your seat."

"I had one in the bathroom with no windows." They then start walking in front of Jim and me and getting louder.

"Get back to your seat now-"

"I suffer from aviophobia. It means fear of dying in something that flies."

"Sir, for your own safety, sit down, or else I'll make you sit down!"

The man gaped at her before nodding lightly and taking the empty seat on Jim's left, "Fine."

"Thank you." The lady said, irritated, before walking away from us.

"This is Captain Pike. We've been cleared for takeoff." It was then heard over the PA system, which made some people giddy and fidgety. I pull on my belt one last time to make sure everything was secure before sighing. The doors started to close, and the Shuttle turned on.

"I may throw up on you." The guy says, turning to Jim. Jim just looks at him with a bewildered look before saying, "I think these things are pretty safe."

"Don't pander to me, Kid. One tiny crack in the hull, and our blood boils in 13 seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait till you're sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles." The man just keeps going on with every possibility that could happen to us. He had more, but I start to tune him out before I get onto helping him calm down.

"Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space." Jim tries to pacify him as the man stops talking about all the different ways we could die in space. 

"Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go. The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce." The man said, taking out a flask and taking a sip, "All I got left is my bones." He then hands the flask to Jim, who also drinks from it.

"Jim Kirk." 

"McCoy. Leonard McCoy."

The Shuttle starts shaking as Jim hands the flask to me, but I refuse, "I'm not old enough, just yet. Hailey Pike, by the way, nice to meetcha!"

"Captain Pikes, daughter?" McCoy asks, taking the flask back.

"Yes, sir, the one and only!" I give him a cheery smile and lean forward to see him better.

"Why aren't you wearing the red uniform like everybody else?" He asks which Jim nods in agreement and looks at me with curiosity.

"Oh, it's because I already graduated, and I'm a Starfleet officer!" I cheer while grinning, "I graduated when I was 16 at the top of my class!"

"Wow." The men both say together, looking at me. "How old are you then?" McCoy was the one to ask.

"20 years of age!" 

"Ahhh, that's why you didn't drink anything while you were cleaning me up last night." 

"Yep!" The Shuttle starts taking off into the sky, making me lean back against my chair and sigh.

Here we go!

[1987vampire]

Falling Composure

Fandom: Star Trek. Fits TOS or AOS so Relationship: McSpirk, Leonard “Bones” McCoy x James T. Kirk x S'chn T'gai Spock Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: Crying and exhaustion is about it.  Request: none. my newfound love of Star Trek Extra: Hahhahahahahahahahahaha remember when I used to write imagines like consistently and with the same fandoms hahahahahahahaha i’m sad now.  my art shop! 

Leonard didn’t remember the last time he hadn’t slept for more than four hours at a time, and it was beginning to show. His composure was falling, and it was falling fast. He was either too tired to be snappy or so tired he would snap at everything that walked by. He had fallen asleep while reading his PADD too many times to be okay, and he was beginning to see stars in his vision when he stood up.

He couldn’t stop, though. If you were working on the Enterprise, you would know why. Being chief medical officer wasn’t something you could take days off for. He was constantly moving, fixing, writing reports. He had to be awake almost 24/7.

Jim had begun to notice, though, and Leonard was pretty sure Spock had caught on a small while before. Spock’s approach had been to remind him of when his shift ended, or he would try to make plans with him to drag him away from work, but Leonard refused to stop, thanking him every time, but refusing to indulge in any free time. Jim’s approach, however, was to try to annoy him until he gave in. It didn’t work either, though it was nice to feel Jim wrap his arms around Leonard every now and then as a persuasion method.

Leonard didn’t assume anything was that terrible, – as many creatures were able to only sleep for less than four hours a night without any health risks, though he was really just trying to downplay his symptoms – but he finally gave in after about two months of his sleep-deprived state.

The day had been an entire mess. The duplicator had been broken in his office, so he had to go to one of the lounges only to have Uhura talk to him for a good thirty minutes, wasting time he could have used to write reports. Then, when he made it back to the medbay, there were about five engineers who had gotten injured, though he didn’t care to listen to the reason, and he had slipped up three times on his work, which the nurses thankfully fixed.

But the one thing that had set it all off was when he was finally able to sit at his desk to do his work. He opened the files, began to type, and then everything crashed. His PADD malfunctioned, and he lost his past three files he had been working on. He couldn’t contain the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, the sleep deprivation and anger boiling over until he was a blubbering mess. He pulled at his hair and wiped at his eyes continuously, trying to stop the mess he was becoming, when the door to his office slid open. He looked up to see Spock standing in the doorway, his mouth open like he was going to tell him something only to have stopped when he saw the doctor’s state.

“Leonard? Are you okay,” his voice was the same goddamn monotone voice he always had, but he could hear the little bit of curiosity and worry in his voice.

Leonard shook his head, wiping at his eyes again, but they wouldn’t stop coming. “Obviously not, you green-blooded hobgoblin.” And even though the words were inherently harsh, Spock knew they weren’t intended that way. They never really were.

Spock stepped forward, and the door shut behind him. “Do I need to get Jim,” he questioned, his voice growing softer.

Leonard shook his head again. “No, I don’t want him seeing me like this. I didn’t want you seeing me like this. I’m sorry.”

Spock took a deep inhale and moved forward to kneel down in front of Leonard. “It is most illogical for you to apologize at your emotional outburst. You have been pushing yourself for quite some time.”

Leonard let out a hoarse laugh, his tears beginning to slow down. “Never expected you to defend emotions before. That’s a new one.”

Spock’s eyebrow lifted high. “Well, it was illogical for you to push yourself in the first place, but the consequences were not something you could stop.” Leonard sighed, and Spock lifted one of his hands, lightly touching their first two fingers together at the tips. “We’ve been missing you. You’re never around when we are anymore. I’m afraid Jim was only a few days away from barging in here and dragging you out. I’ve been hearing him discuss a short shore leave for everyone.”

Leonard smiled a bit, and Spock’s other hand came up to wipe away the remaining tears. “Jim couldn’t move me if he tried, though shore leave would be nice. I wouldn’t mind having a break.”

“Then why didn’t you have one by yourself? You’re in here day and night. You only have one shift, but you work almost all three. “

“People are idiots on the ship. They don’t know how to take care of themselves, and the more injuries, the more work. You know Starfleet wants a report for everything.”

Spock nodded. “Well, come on, doctor. Your shift is over, and you are going to lay with Jim and me through the next two. No complaints allowed.”

“Not even one,” he groaned teasingly, a smile slowly filling his face as the two stood.

“Not even one. Come on.”

Spock led them out of the office, informing the head nurse that McCoy wouldn’t be back until his next shift on the way. The nurse had grinned happily and nodded, wishing Leonard a good time resting.

Leonard leaned on Spock the entire way back to the three’s shared room which was highly unusual for both of them. Their affection was rarely, if ever, displayed in public besides the subtle Vulcan kisses or standing just a bit too close together when they were walking around. But as Spock led the couple through the halls and up the turbolift, Leonard clung to him like Spock had his life in his hands.

The walk was long in his mind, but it was relatively short in short in distance, and soon, they were walking into their room. Leonard almost immediately fell onto the bed, relishing in the feeling of the bed. Oh, how he missed being able to relax in their bed.

He faintly recognized the sound of the shower running, and he smiled a bit at the thought of seeing Jim fresh out of the shower. That’s when Jim was always the most relaxed.

Leonard turned in the bed to face Spock who was standing by the replicator, making food. He could hear him ordering Jim and his favorite meals, and he made himself a cup of tea.

Leonard pulled himself up as he heard the shower shut off and Spock place the food on the table in the sitting area. He gingerly pulled his boots off of his feet, surprised he wasn’t asleep already. It was probably the excitement of being around them after so long, he told himself, and it was probably true.

He turned as the bathroom door opened, and Jim stopped in his tracks at seeing him. “Bones?”

He took a few steps forward, his hand clutching the towel to his waist. Leonard smiled. “Hey, I missed you.”

Jim’s face lit up, and a smile overtook his confusion. He strode over quickly and grabbed Leonard’s face, pulling him into a kiss that Leonard smiled into. As they pulled away, Jim kept his hands on Leonard’s face. “I missed you too. How long are you going to be here?”

“Until my next shift.”

Jim smiled again, and Leonard thought his heart might just stop right there.

However, their little moment was broken up by Spock. “As much as I hate to interrupt you, the food will get cold if you don’t put on your clothes and join us, Jim.”

Jim placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest jokingly. “You know you love the sight, Spock.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Even though you are quite visually appealing, it does not take away from the physical properties of your food. Get dressed so you can come eat.”

Jim let out a loud laugh but complied, stepping over to the shared closet and throwing open the doors easily. “Would you like something better to wear, Bones,” he questioned as he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt. The pants were the same color as his uniform with the Starfleet logo embroidered on the left-side pocket, and Leonard couldn’t think of a better thing to wear at the moment, so he nodded, and Jim threw the clothes at him, barely missing his head.

The two changed quickly and then ate quietly. Leonard was sat in the middle of the other two, and Jim had a bit of small talk, but the two could both see how he almost nodded off a few times during their meal. Spock’s on his lower back was not helping in the slightest either. He was rubbing circles into the little dip right there, and it was enough to make him almost pass out even when he wasn’t tired.

As soon as they were done eating, all three of them moved back to the bed, and Leonard was placed in the middle again. Jim had yelled teasingly at him a simple ‘you’ve been depriving me of my boyfriend! Let me cuddle you for a night!’ Spock had nodded along, so Leonard couldn’t really say no.

So, when they were all laid down – Jim was curled around his front with his head on his shoulder, and Spock was behind him, his hand interlaced with his, and his head near the back of his neck if the feeling of his breath was anything to go by – Leonard began to cry again. This one wasn’t the blubbering kind of sob like early. No, this one was a silent barely there kind of cry that he doubted they would’ve noticed if he hadn’t started sniffling.

Jim leaned back immediately to look at him, and Spock’s hand tightened. “Hey, what’s wrong,” Jim questioned, his voice a hushed whisper that matched the setting.

Leonard shook his head and closed his eyes for a second. “I just love you guys so much, and I’m sorry I do this to myself. Y’all don’t deserve this. You don’t, and I don’t know why you put up with it.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.” Jim leaned forward, pulling into a hug. Spock pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “We all have our bad habits. “I put myself into dangerous situations and never come to see you when I’m sick, you run yourself dry, and Spock, well, I don’t really know if Spock has any bad habits besides how logical he tries to be all the time, but that’s not the point. The point is: you should never feel any lesser than you should because we all put up with each other, and we love each other, and we stick together, and that will never change.” He took his free hand lifted it to his lips, softly kissing his knuckles. “And I’ll do anything you need to show you that.” He let go of his hand and leaned forward again, cuddling up to him like he had been before. “But right now, you need to sleep. You’ve done enough for right now, and tomorrow, we can work together to clear your work. The Starfleet can wait on whatever it is you’re working on.”

Bones smiled happily. “I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, Bones.”

[greenninjagal-blog]

Even If It Kills Us (but it won’t hopefully) pt2

hey, Hey, HEy, HEY! Sander’s Sides Mafia AU Part Two! 

(Mostly for @kindly-falling @laragazzadellluna who surprised me with wanting more)

Part one is right here! Summary: Virgil is a normal college student, who’s never done anything illegal, much less something worth sending hit men after him for. Unfortunately, it looks like he’s going to die before he gets his answers.

“Do you think you can--perhaps--make time now?” the man says in the most pretentious voice Virgil has ever heard, “I assure you it’s quite important.”

Virgil thinks hes going to throw up.

Because this man is holding a gun--a gun and he just killed a man

(regardless that the other man has just been trying to kill Virgil)

He just killed a man like it was nothing. Like it was a simple chore.

 Virgil chest heaves and it feels a lot like trying to inhale his own tongue. There are alarms and screaming and people trying to kill him and Virgil doesn’t know why but he knows this isn’t the time to be here.

fuck he can’t breathe

Patton’s fingers wrap his arm holding him to this reality like an anchor but Virgil thinks that this can’t be real. It can’t be real.

There’s a dead body on the floor a few meters from them.

But it can’t be real.

“Virgil,” The man says, “You need to breathe. This is not the time nor the place for a panic attack.”

 Patton--Patton-- growls at him. It’s surprising because Pat is the nice one, the flowered crowns, the puns, the sweaters and the warm hugs. Virgil is the one who hisses at people who get too close. 

But this is Patton who just stood in front of Virgil to save him from being potentially shot and Virgil thinks that he came so fucking close to losing the best person in his life

And he can’t exhale. His lungs scream.

“Virge,” Patton says quietly, “breathe with me.”

“We don’t have time--”

“Shut up!” Patton snaps. It’s not like him. Virgil breathes in and it feels a lot like claws dragging through his chest. 

He does it again.

“I’m okay,” He rasps out as if saying it out loud would make it true in any sense.

“Excellent,” The man deadpans, “It’s time to go.”

“Where?!” Patton demands, “And who are you?!”

“The man who just saved you life.” He responds distastefully. “That’s all you need to know. It’s time for you to leave.”

“Excuse me?!” 

Virgil is certain he’s never seen Patton like this. If he wasn’t already scared beyond belief, this would definitely be the thing causing him a panic attack. He’s already shaking all over, his whole body. 

(If pat lets go hes sure he’d shake himself apart)

“This doesn’t concern you anymore.” The man says, “Its a family matter.”

Virgil has never seen the man before today.

“People got shot!” 

The man considers his gun for a second and Virgil was certain he was going to shoot Patton too. “Yes, that is because they are the enemy. And quite frankly its time for you to step out unless you want to be shot at again.”

“I’m not leaving Virgil!”

“I don’t have time to argue this with you.” The man says, “Your blood is on your own hands, not mine.”

It sounds like a threat. 

Patton squeezes Virgil’s shoulder.

Another form comes crashing around the corner behind them, but Virgil barely has time to register who they are before the man has fired two shots and they drop. It’s effortless. He fires again but the chamber is empty.

“Time to go,” He says.

He reaches out for Virgil’s arm and then stops himself-- “Can you run?”

Virgil nods.

They run.

Everything in Virgil screams that they were going to be shot, killed. But the man seems rather confident as he shoves open the exit door, eyes darting the outside.

They aren’t more than a foot outside before an expensive red sports car is plows over the curb and blocks their easy exit. 

(Virgil doesn’t know a lot about cars, but fuck is this one nice)

The window is already down and the driver is smirking something awful. “Get in!”

The man who had saved their lives, stops short, “Absolutely not!”

The driver laughs good-naturedly and pulls a gun from somewhere. “How about now?”

There’s several gunshots from behind them. The glass door to the theater shatters.

“Fuck This,” Virgil breathes and because these people aren’t the ones currently trying to shoot him, he grabs the door handle and throws himself into the car. Patton lands sideways in his lap.

The man looks absolutely scandalized, “You cannot--!” 

“Get in the damn car, Logan!” The driver shouts, “What’s the worse that can happen?”

“You’ll get us killed!”

The man--Logan-- gets in the car anyway.

Several bullets hit the door as it closes.

The driver laughs again, and Virgil is pretty sure he’s having fun. He presses the gas pedal to the actual floor and the car just explodes. Virgil hits the opposite door and Patton tumbles off the seat to the floor.

“I swEAR!” Logan yells as the driver spins out of the parking lot going at speeds that were illegal for a good reason. They nearly collide headfirst with three different cars but they were already gone by the time the other drivers even honked their horns.

“Ooh! Tails!” The driver called, checking his mirrors casually and running a red light. He tosses his gun in Logan’s lap, “Do you mind?”

“You are a terrible driver!” Logan snarls at him. 

Virgil digs his hands into the leather seats. His stomach is in his throat as Logan leans out the open window, and fires again and again. Virgil can see him through the other windows, and his cold and calculating look that tightens when their driver makes an unexpected jerk of his wheel. 

He can’t hear a thing.

Then Logan throws the gun, having emptied it, into the open air and climbs back in their car with curses tumbling off his lips.

“Who taught you how to drive?” He snarls.

“Did you get them?” The driver asks unbothered.

“no I left them--of fucking course i did. I’m not you!” 

Awesome. Virgil who’s never even jaywalked before, realizes that he is in a car with two strangers, both of who had guns and knew how to use them, not to mention their driver had already broken at least fifty driving laws. 

what the fucking hell

“Ouch harsh,” The driver laughs though, he reaches up and tilts the rearview mirror, “How’s it going back there, Sanders?”

“I’m going to throw up.” Virgil says. It’s not a lie.

“Hey, watch the leather, Jack Smellington, I just got her cleaned!”

Then for some ungodly reason Patton starts laughing too.

(Further proof, Virgil thinks, that Patton is crazy)

“Wow!” Pat reaches up and fixes his glasses, “I didn’t know the movie was in 4-D!”

“This is not a movie!” Logan hisses but his seriousness is in stark contrast with their drivers booming laugh. 

(it’s different now, Virgil can’t quite put his finger on why, but it just sounds different)

“Who’s the puffball?” The driver asks, “I like him.”

“Patton Pater!” Patton!! says!! brightly!! “I like you too! What’s your name?”

“Roman Prince!” He says, “Resident Knight in shining armor!”

“A reckless playboy, with far too many cars and not enough rules.” Logan corrects with a sneer, “This is not your business, Prince.”

“It is when the next heir is as cute as he is!”

Virgil’s heart stops, “what?”

“i said you’re cute! Do you swing my way?”

Logan turns around in his seat. “Ignore him,” He commands, but Virgil gets the feeling Roman is not going to let that stand. “Based on your reactions in these past few minutes, I’m going to assume that you have no clue what is going on.”

Virgil’s throat is so dry he can barely breathe again, “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”

Logan sighs and takes off his glasses to clean them which is not an answer.

Roman zooms onto a freeway, “Did you even introduce yourself, Specs?” 

(Virgil absently wonders why there are no Police cars chasing them down)

“My name is Logan. Sanders.” Logan says slowly, “We’re cousins.”

“That’s...” impossible is on the top of Virgil’s tongue, but he then remembers how cagey his mom always was when holidays came up. He knew he had relatives, somewhere but he had known better than to ask after the first time. “....alright.” 

(it’s not alright. Its very, very far from alright.)

((Patton takes his hand and its enough support for Virgil to remember to exhale))

“Excellent,” Logan replaces his glasses. If it weren’t for the blood on his tie he could have been a TA at their college. “Our family is a mafia.”

Roman jerks the wheel and Logan’s head slams into the head rest. Patton lets out a yelp. 

“Sorry Padre!” Roman shoots a sideways glare at Logan, “Really? Spock, there were a hundred other ways to break it to the kid. He looks like he’s going to faint. We’ve talked about this.”

“You talked, I did not listen because I do not want any misconceptions to arise.” Logan hisses, “I don’t want him to think anything other than the honest truth!”

Roman’s smile quirks viciously, “Oh that would be just awful wouldn’t it.”

Virgil doesn’t like the connotation of that.

He doesn’t like any of this.

(Part of him is horrified because he can understand it?? Why does it make sense to him?? His mom obviously never wanted anything to do with this part of his family, how she tried to keep him at home, how she always seemed to be looking over her shoulder, too paranoid to let him out of her sights. Part of him wonders if he always knew this, always knew something just wasn’t right.)

“What does that have to do with Virgil?” Patton asks innocently. 

(Virgil knows he does that on purpose: its a load question and Patton is the barrier between it and Virgil himself)

Logan clenches his jaw, “It has to do with Virgil, because Virgil is the only other viable heir.”

“....what?”

Virgil’s voice is dry and broken. He had to have heard wrong. This wasn’t, couldn’t be real.

“Three nights ago the head of the family, Thomas Sanders, was murdered.” Logan says and then pauses.

“Murdered?” Patton repeats.

“Most of the family thinks it was our rivals--”

“Rivals?” Virgil interrupts, “You mean that’s who trying to kill me?”

Roman laughs, “God, that would be ironic!”

Logan makes an annoyed noise, “No the Prince’s aren’t the ones attempting to kill you. Though they should keep to themselves as this does not include them.”

“I can drop you off right here if you want.”

Virgil makes a noise in the back of his throat.

Roman meets his eyes in the rear view mirror, “Chill out, Winter Sulker! None of my family’s going to touch you without my say so. I’m my families heir.”

“Then who is trying to hurt my kiddo?” Patton asks, “And why?”

Logan clicks his tongue. “Thomas well...

“He named you, Virgil, heir to the family, although it is not logical in any sense--” He stops himself again seeming to remember who he was speaking to. “You are Thomas’s heir and therefore are slotted to take over. And unfortunately, not everyone in the family is...agreeable to this course of action.”

Part Three

[emtheanxiousdragon]

Haven't You Noticed (You're All Liars) Chapter 2

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

Dear Old Dad

-----

The novelty of Deceit’s new power broke one day when he decided to steal one of Logan’s Crofter’s jars from the kitchen. He was too lazy to summon his own jar He was incapable of summoning his own jar, so the best course of action was to steal some of Logan’s. That and Deceit knew it would anger the Side to no end, which was always hilarious to see. Of course to do that, Deceit had to wait until there was no one in the living room to see him. He wasn’t in the mood for confrontation, and didn’t want Logan to suspect him of the theft. Finding an empty moment in the living room was difficult easy, to say the least. When Deceit first got the urge in the morning, Logan and Patton had been quietly chatting on the couch about Sherlock Holmes and the different incarnations of Watson in modern media. Just when he thought he could grab the goods, Roman had slinked into the living room to begin working with Logan on Thomas’s next video.

Deceit slipped back into his room by the fifth lie Roman told about his ideas. That Side was sometimes more of a liar honest person than Deceit was! On a bad day, Roman’s lies about his confidence and pride could outnumber the times he was truthful about his ego were far less in number than his truthful moments. No oneanyone could out-lie Deceit. It was not fine, things were not fine. The ‘Good Sides’, as Roman had once called them, still told each other the truth at times. The yellow Side wished he didn’t have to constantly hear their lies, yet enjoyed holding power over their secrets loved hearing their lies, but didn’t like the burden of responsibility they held. Huh?

Once safe in his room, he sat down on the couch, pulling off his yellow gloves and setting them on the coffee table. His hands were covered in a thick layer of green scales similar to the ones on his face. He hated how it felt when he grabbed something with his ungloved hands, the feeling of something besides the soft interior of his gloves rubbing against his scales making him shiver loved his scaly hands. He laid down across the couch, staring up at the dark ceiling. His bowler hat fell off his head, rolling to the floor. Deceit closed his eyes.

Thomas’s memories slithered through his head like snakes in the Amazon. As the embodiment of lies, Deceit remembered every lie Thomas had ever told. Yes, I read your story. Yes, I took out the trash. Yes, I read the Terms and Conditions (there were multiple incarnations of that lie). Each lie connected itself to an unspoken truth. Deceit could match a lie to it’s truth faster than a cobra could strike. It had always been one snake in his head, one person’s lies to keep and foster. That was his job. He loved, no, hated, no… He wasn’t sure what he thought of his job, but he knew it was important. Technically, he still only had one person’s lies to control. But now five snakes slithered around inside his skull, each one containing their own lies, four little snakes trailing after the biggest. I’m fine. I’m never sad! I don’t have emotions. I’m the Prince, I’m always right! Their voices rang out like bells, screaming, announcing each new lie. Deceit’s head was a church where the sinful went to confess their sins and he was the pastor sitting inside the confessional, remembering every word they told him. That was not his purpose. Or was it?

Deceit hissed softly, opening his eyes and sitting up. He rubbed the skin under his eyes- one eye presenting smooth skin, the other presenting rough scale. The lies needed to stop continue. He couldn’t care less what those fools did, he just wanted the bells to stop ringing . There was only one way to do that- he needed to expose them. He needed to expose each lie and secret until there was nothing left to say.

He stood up, grabbing his gloves and slipping them back over his scales. He walked over to his room’s version of the living room shelf, full of notebooks and lizard themed decor. He grabbed one of the notebooks and summoned a pen. He sat down at his table and flipped the notebook past the scribblings he made to organize Thomas’s lies when his head became too fullto a blank page. He tore four pages out of his notebook. On the top of each page, he wrote down a name.

PATTON

VIRGIL

ROMAN

LOGAN

Deceit would not let their secrets stay hidden. Good reactions or bad, their lies would not continue. They could keep their petty lies that put a smile on Deceit’s face and gave him chances to cause chaos and laugh for days , it was the important lies Deceit cared about.

He would start finish with Morality. Out of the four Sides, Patton would be the easiest most difficult to coax the truth from. The others already knew had no knowledge of the lies he told involving his current emotional state. However, there was an aspect of Patton that Deceit respected despised, one that already did hindered his job- he was trying hard to not to tell the truth. Since his little party in his room with the others, the fatherly Side definitely didn’t tell the others more often when he felt sad or angry or any emotion other than happy. But he was not perfect. Deceit could manipulate that. He just had to wait for the right moment to strike. Until then, he would need didn’t need to plan. He placed Patton’s paper in front of him and began writing.

His moment would not come for a while. Deceit had enough time to not only finish his plan for Patton (titled Operation Dear Old Dad), but the plan to confront another Side as well. Once he had everything planned out and he’d practiced the new skill needed for the task,Deceit began to spend more time hiding in the shadows of the Mindscape’s living room, waiting. It was incrediblyboring fun. The first day brought about nothingsomething, including the usual empty witty banter. The bells in his head were mostly silent screaming throughout that day. It gave him the chance to play sixabsolutely zero rounds of Solitaire, he was wasn’t a card playing nerd, what are you talking about?

Near the day’s end, the group settled down for a Family Movie Night. Patton actually wore his cat onesie in the normal way, while Roman pulled out fancy gold and red pajamas and Virgil- well he wore his normal outfit but had swapped his torn jeans for black sweatpants and thrown off his shoes. Patton managed to convince Logan to wear his unicorn onesie, and as the Side floated up from the ground, Roman let out a whoop and Virgil smirked.

“Work it, Logan!” Roman laughed.

“Hold on, I believe I have the appropriate vocabulary card for this moment,” Logan sighed, taking out his trusty note cards and flipping through them. “Yes, here it is. ‘Can it.’” Virgil let out a snort. Logan settled down next to Patton, who gave him a giant smile. It was apparently Roman’s turn to pick the movie, and he chose Mamma Mia! , earning a groan from Virgil.

“Excuse you,” Roman huffed. “ Mamma Mia! is a hilarious movie containing fun, lively music and beautiful relationships!”

“They couldn’t even bother to write their own songs,” Virgil muttered. “The plot’s not even that good. It’s all sunshine and dance moves. The one night I’d actually willingly watch one of your obnoxiously cheerful Disney movies and you choose a movie as dumb as this. ”

“He has a point,” Logan said. “The film only received an approximate approval rating of 50% on both Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic .”

“This time, you can can it, Mr. Spock,” Roman said. “It’s my turn to pick the movie, and I choose Mamma Mia! , so you all can leave if you don’t want to watch it.”

“I like the film!” Patton exclaimed.

“Thank you, padre!” Roman said.

“I never said I disliked the film,” Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses. “I simply stated the approval ratings of the film.”

“Talking Time is done, it’s Movie Time,” Roman said, starting the movie with a snap of his fingers. Deceit went back to his room, but after a few minutes, he remembered something. He still wanted that jar of Crofter’s, and he was still too lazy to summon his own . Deceit popped into the kitchen as quietly as he could. The attention of the four Sides was focused on the TV screen. Perfect terrible timing. 

“Virgil, you watching?” Roman stage-whispered. “Donna is about to rekindle her connection with Sophie! It’s a beautiful moment showing the love between mother and child!”

“Yep,” Virgil muttered. “ Yeah, no, I’d rather listen to my music, Taking Over Me is about to start playing. ” Deceit had an important unimportant choice to make. Take his Crofter’s and go, or expose Virgil’s lie? Expose Virgil’s lieleave the living room, definitely that. He sunk into the floor, picturing himself appearing just behind the couch where Virgil sat. The Side quickly appeared where he wanted, at first catching no one’s attention. He reached over the couch and grabbed Virgil’s hood, which he had flipped up. Virgil let out a scream as Deceit pulled off the hood and his headphones, throwing the headphones at Roman. The other three jumped at Virgil’s shout.

“Deceit!” Roman shouted as the headphones landed on his face. He grabbed them and gave Virgil a look of betrayal. “Virgil!” Virgil spun around to face Deceit, teeth bared like an angry cat.

“Why do you keep doing that?!” he roared. Deceit laughed maniacally, linking his fingertips together and sinking away. The day was not a waste after all.

The next day, Deceit thought he had something. Patton had been feeling down that morning, perhaps he could put his plan into action. But no, the Side actually decided to talk to the others for once . They spent the day with Thomas afterward, chatting away. After that disappointment success, Deceit decided to sleep in that night. If Thomas needed to lie for some reason, too bad.

That morning, Deceit flicked his eyes open, and the world felt wrong right . He wanted didn’t want to sleep longer, but something… something happened to Thomas. Something that required Deceit. The snake in his mind hissed wildly, finally awake.

It’s alright, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go home, rest for a bit, probably watch some of The Office . It’s fine. Oh. Deceit let out a long sigh. The day had not gone well for Thomas. It had been a mixture of different things- a bad dream that left a sour taste in Thomas’s mouth, corrupted files on his computer, fusing together into a rough argument with a friend. Things would be alright, but that day was ruined for Thomas. And when things were bad for Thomas, they were bad for the Sides . This was going to be painful fun. Deceit could only sense one Side in the Mindscape’s living room, so there was no point going there . No one was with Thomas, but there was no point going to talk to him, he had already told plenty of lies during Deceit’s nap. Did his nap help or hinder Thomas’s ability to lie, Deceit wondered? Help, it seemed, as Deceit’s dreams had not been so clear since Thomas learned of his existence.

For a while, Deceit stayed in his room. The older snake in his head hissed continuously as Thomas made lie after lie about his feelings towards those he came across on his way home. Deceit was grateful annoyed when his room transformed from the strange building and outdoor area he had awoken into the familiar living room as Thomas returned to the home- no more sitting on concrete for Deceit. Deceit could sense one of the Sides leaving the Mindscape and appearing with Thomas. Which one?

I know you feel crummy, kiddo, one of the snakes in his head hissed. I just wanna go off and cry, too. For the first time that day, Deceit smiled. Operation Dear Old Dad could finally begin.

The Sides were all in their rooms at the moment, making it the perfect worst moment for Deceit to set up his plan. He was n’t amazing at transforming into something besides a fellow Side yet , but when he closed his eyes and focused, his body transformed with a sound similar to a bubble popping. He’d found a picture of his new form while looking through Thomas’s memories, finding the image in a random internet search. The Pygmy Wolf Snake was the perfect worst form for sneaking around without anyone noticing. For the plan to work, he would have to physically be in the living room, not hiding like he usually did.

Deceit popped into the empty living room, now dark and empty. The furniture were skyscrapers around the tiny snake, the staircase a brown mountain, the kitchen bar a cliff to scale. The next step was to find a hiding spot. While Deceit’s form was inconspicuous extremely loud and gawky, the Sides would be suspicious calm and collected if they saw a tiny snake wearing a tiny bowler hat and a tiny yellow jacket. He slithered across the living room into the kitchen. The towering counters only made Deceit feel smaller larger. One of the lower cupboard doors was open slightly- the perfect worst hiding place. Deceit slithered into the darkness of the cupboard, nestled in the shadows.  The time passed by in a few blurred moments. He did n’t bother to keep track of the time, because it didn’t matter. Eventually, he heard the familiar whooshing sound of a Side entering the room. Footsteps padded towards the couch, a sigh flowing through the room.

“Feelings,” Logan muttered. “ I don’t understand them. I wish that I did. ” A similar whooshing sound echoed through the room, more sudden and jarring than Logan’s entrance.

“Hey,” Virgil said. “ This entire stupid day’s left me sick, I feel like I’m gonna crack any minute, I just want someone to talk to. ”

“Hello, Virgil,” Logan sighed. “Do you need something? Please do not ask for emotional assistance. ”

“ Yes no,” Virgil said. His footsteps clicked across the floor, sitting on the couch with a thud. He let out a long, loud, deep sigh. A third whoosh filled the air. “So it’s a party now?” The newcomer’s footsteps thudded towards the couch.

“Well today’s just been terrible great,” Roman huffed. Ah yes, the worst best part of hearing the lies of the Sides. Most uses of sarcasm were ruined saved.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Virgil muttered.

“I don’t suppose that either of you have seen our bubbly father figure since…” Roman asked.

“No, I have not,” Logan sighed. “I believe he is with Thomas. It is best to let him be for now. He is the one best equipped to handle the situation out of all of us.” Silence filled the Mindscape.

“I for one am not going to sit around and wallow about the day,” Roman huffed. “I We need something to do. I mean, sure the day’s been a waste, but there’s always tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly, Roman,” Logan said. “I am quite impressed. There is no point in obsessing over the day, as it is now in the past. I have multiple ideas for activities that would help improve everyone’s collective moods and therefore assist Thomas.”

“I got an idea!” Patton’s voice rang through the room. “Let’s just sleep forever. ”

“Hey, Pat,” Roman said.

“How are you feeling, Patton?” Logan asked.

“ Terrible a little tired, but nothing a cat nap won’t fix,” Patton chuckled. Deceit could sense his fake smile from his hiding spot. It made him sick ecstatic.

“How’s Thomas?” Virgil asked.

“He’s taking it easy,” Patton sighed. “I convinced him to do a Steven Universe marathon.”

“Perfect idea!” Roman exclaimed. He snapped his fingers, and the sounds of the Steven Universe theme song blared through the room.

“Well, while you kiddos watch the show, I think I’m gonna bake something,” Patton said. “I think tonight calls for some banana bread. I need to do something or I might cry.” Patton’s footsteps moved closer to the kitchen. Perfect terrible. Everything nothing was going according to plan. Deceit inched forward in the cupboard to see Patton enter the kitchen, smile flickering. It was time.

“You can’t be sad,” Deceit whispered, barely audible to even himself. “That’s not your job. Look at Virgil, he looks sick with worry. He doesn’t need your problems on top of that.” Patton began peeling the bananas he summoned and slicing them. Logan walked into the kitchen, hand lingering on the counter.

“I can assist you if you would like,” Logan stated. “Cartoons are too childish not exactly my forte, and baking can serve as a great meditative tool and stimuli.”

“Oh, thank you, Logan!” Patton laughed. “But I need something to do alone you don’t have to do that! Go relax! I’m not fine on my own!”

Are you certain?” Logan asked. “ You are lying again. ”

“Go on, go on, relax, I’ll have some yummy banana bread for you soon,” Patton said, waving Logan off. Logan frowned slightly but walked back to the couch.

“What a liar,” Deceit whispered. “He’s angry at you for lying to him again. You’re always lying.” Patton chopped the last banana slice and moved on to mix the dry ingredients. Deceit could see his hands shaking. A voice in the back of his head told him to stop excitement ran down Deceit’s spine (which, at the moment, was one of the only bones in his body). Deceit kept whispering, narrow pupils watching Patton’s every move. Each whispered sentence made Patton’s smooth baking routine stutter and pause. They were almost finished with the Steven Universe episode when the first shaky breath floated out of Patton’s lungs. Time to pick up the pace.

“Don’t you dare cry,” Deceit hissed, forked tongue flicking out. “They’ll see. They’ll ask what’s wrong. Thomas will only feel worse. You’re his happy feelings, so be happy already!” Patton bent down to the cupboard where Deceit hid. Crap! Deceit slithered back behind a large pot, curling into a tight ball. Patton opened the cupboard, grabbing a pan to Deceit’s left. “Be happy!” Patton gripped the pan to his chest. He sat down on the tile, head leaning against the cabinet. His breathing was shaky, slightly choked. Deceit could hear the lies buzzing in Patton’s head. The snakes were screaming. A new episode of Steven Universe began in the living room.

“Patton?” Roman called at the episode’s halfway point. “You good, padre?” Patton sat straight, a soft gasp escaping his lips. He rubbed at his eyes like a child, glasses lying awkwardly on his hands. He forgot to adjust them when he stood up, pan in hand.

“I’m not ok, kiddo!” Patton laughed. “Just, uh, crying … just yelling at myself …” The Steven Universe episode stopped playing. One last push.

“Good job, Patton, you’ve upset them,” Deceit whispered. “What sort of father are you?” Patton let out a whimper cough, covering his mouth. Footsteps moved closer to the kitchen. Virgil’s face appeared in line of sight of the cupboard.

“It’s…” Virgil said. “It’s ok that you feel bad today. It’s been a bad day for everyone. Uh… come watch Steven Universe with us.” The two Sides stood frozen for seconds. Hesitantly, Virgil reached out his pale hand. Patton chuckled sadly, wiping his eyes. He took Virgil’s hand, leaving the pan in the kitchen and letting the anxious Side lead him to the couch. The show began playing. Deceit smiled grimaced, and dropped through the cupboard, reappearing back in his room as his regular self once more.

PATTON

VIRGIL

ROMAN

LOGAN