[ With his brow resting against Chris's jaw when Jim feels fingers running through his hair, he can't seem to stop crying, muted through the noise is. His fists grip and smooth on shoulders, arms, running along them to keep a tight hold. The emotion churns him like a whirlpool inside, everything he wants to say crumbling like old wrecks getting dragged under cyclic sobs. It's a relief to that Chris accepts how Jim has screwed up and finds he's grown because of it, even without the details; almost firing torpedoes into Klingon space would have been immeasurably foolish, not a thing about it echoing the man he had always tried to emulate. ]
You saved me. Every day. A-And I couldn't save ...
[ Eyes screw shut and tears drop onto his shirt, looking up after stifling an upset noise at the I miss you back. He has to say this now, has to get it out while Chris can be told exactly how much more of a hero he is than Jim. Instead, what comes out is — ]
What do I do if I don't have you? [ Shaking his head, he finds he gravitates back into that comforting embrace, small and sad. ] I wanted to kill him for taking you away. I would have done it, if Spock hadn't helped me out of it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. [ Lips purse and he feels himself sway minutely, something about the motion making him feel ever so slightly better. ] Sir, I — I died. The warp core was misaligned, I needed to ... or everyone would've —
[ The words feel like a confessional. ]
I was scared, sir. I'm sorry. I felt, feel so alone. I don't want you to leave me again, I can't take being in my head with the dark, I can't stop feeling like there's ...
[ Nobody who understands. Not really. Not the excruciating pain, the terror and how Jim can't calm that down on his own; it's the heart he provides the Enterprise with, not his head.
His gaze slides to the blue-shirted figure nearby and Jim closes his eyes, memorizing how fabric scratches against his stubble, damp with his tears. Through them, he admits the truth of the matter to his First too, never raising his voice when Vulcan ears will hear perfectly and, Jim trusts, understand how they convey such different, wildly important things for both Chris and Spock respectively. ]
I'm all messed up.
[ The way he clings to Chris might as well be a direct physical representation of how much he needs Spock around, too.
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You saved me. Every day. A-And I couldn't save ...
[ Eyes screw shut and tears drop onto his shirt, looking up after stifling an upset noise at the I miss you back. He has to say this now, has to get it out while Chris can be told exactly how much more of a hero he is than Jim. Instead, what comes out is — ]
What do I do if I don't have you? [ Shaking his head, he finds he gravitates back into that comforting embrace, small and sad. ] I wanted to kill him for taking you away. I would have done it, if Spock hadn't helped me out of it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. [ Lips purse and he feels himself sway minutely, something about the motion making him feel ever so slightly better. ] Sir, I — I died. The warp core was misaligned, I needed to ... or everyone would've —
[ The words feel like a confessional. ]
I was scared, sir. I'm sorry. I felt, feel so alone. I don't want you to leave me again, I can't take being in my head with the dark, I can't stop feeling like there's ...
[ Nobody who understands. Not really. Not the excruciating pain, the terror and how Jim can't calm that down on his own; it's the heart he provides the Enterprise with, not his head.
His gaze slides to the blue-shirted figure nearby and Jim closes his eyes, memorizing how fabric scratches against his stubble, damp with his tears. Through them, he admits the truth of the matter to his First too, never raising his voice when Vulcan ears will hear perfectly and, Jim trusts, understand how they convey such different, wildly important things for both Chris and Spock respectively. ]
I'm all messed up.
[ The way he clings to Chris might as well be a direct physical representation of how much he needs Spock around, too.
Jim closes his eyes. ]