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“Do not grieve Admiral… it is logical.”

What ever it was that was so logical, Jim would never know.

“The needs of the many… outweigh…”

The needs of the few…

“Or the one…”


“I have been… and always shall be… your friend. Live long… and prosper.”


Kirk pressed his hand to the glass as he watched Spock slowly fall. Only Spock could pull off sliding down glass with dignity. Kirk pressed even harder; willing his hand through the glass so he could touch his first officer, feel that long shared connection one last time. He could feel it slipping away, shredding as Spock slowly left this world. Slowly disappearing until-

Kirk awoke with a start, eyes opening wide then closing tight as he rubbed them with the heel of his palms. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand; 2 am. He sighed wearily and swung his legs out of bed and rested his elbows on his knees, staring off in the distance as he contemplated. Ever since his mind-meld with Sarek the dreams had been getting worse, so much worse. Kirk closed his eyes and dipped his head, running a hand through his hair. He stood and walked to his living room, grabbing a glass of Romulan ale along the way, then sitting in a chair in front of the dying fire, staring at it absently as he rolled the glass between his palms. "Live long… and prosper." To Kirk, these words were a curse. Ever since that moment on the Enterprise, he had been hoping for a swift death so he wouldn’t have to go on with this empty hollowness. Better yet, he wished he had died with Spock; that way they could be together until the last, like it should have been, was supposed to be.


As his thoughts shifted to Bones, Kirk stood and walked closer to the fire, putting a curled hand on the wall. A horrible thought began to coalesce and before Kirk could stop it, it was fully formed and integrated into his brain. If the katra was as important as Sarek made it out to be, then it should have been Kirk, not McCoy, who received it. He tried to reason with himself, telling himself that Bones was in agony, but he couldn’t rid himself of the idea that at least Bones still had a piece of Spock to hold on to, a piece that, by rights, should have been his. Kirk pressed his forehead to the wall near his hand, the cool smooth stone a comforting contrast to the heat of the fire and the nauseating resentment that had now worked its way through his entire body.


At least he wouldn’t have to live with these thoughts for too much longer. Tomorrow, he and the rest of the crew of the Enterprise were going to Genesis and retrieve Spock’s body to bring back to Vulcan. He downed the last of his Romulan ale and set the empty glass on the counter near the sink to take care of in the morning, then made his way back to bed. Jim layed back in his bed and pulled the covers around him as the alcohol began to take effect. His last thought before slipping off into a drunken, dreamless slumber was Spock’s voice echoing in his head. Not his dying speech said in painful exertion and desperation, but the word he had so often used over the years to describe their relationship. "T'hy'la." The Vulcan term meaning lover, brother… and friend.

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