tampered | Mingle Log!

[ It's like he can't touch anything with his actual hands when he hears You are dead, jaw setting and shaking in rigid denial. But that's the most clear thing about any of this weird dream where he's stuck in the past; Jesus, what if he's dying and his brain's just trying to compensate? The glass and the heat curdling his organs is far more vivid than sunshine and the conversation of passes-by. Sweating himself frozen in his skin, which makes no sense and too much. He tastes his own sickly-stale, rattling gasps again.

None of this has been allowed to even scratch the surface since his eyes reopened, now shredding its way though without a care.

Captain, I suggest ... He doesn't move.

That must be his own breathing because he can see his chest moving but his senses are wired to a don't move, don't look away, don't leave me mantra. Holy shit, I'm having a panic attack. Jim does the only thing he can think of to combat his sudden shortness of breath and grabs onto Spock's wrist. ]

[ you are dead. jesus. bones would have scolded him, berated his callousness and lack of understanding of the human emotion, but there it is, and between antagonizing spock for his (seeming) lack of humanity and taking care of jim when he falls, his choice has always been clear. he is there by jim's side in an instant, hands around him to support jim to keep him standing up in case he falls, forehead pressed against his temple and mouth near his ears, saying words that he hopes jim can still hear clearly (and perhaps spock as well, with his vulcan ears). ]

Breathe, Jim. You're alive. You're fine. You're alive. [ these are echoes of things he's already said, things he's confirmed. he's seen it coming a mile away; jim is strong, resilient, but he is stubborn. he never listened, and bones is tired of saying the same things over and over again but still getting the same results. he never pushed jim into admitting that he hasn't been fine since he woke up here, but he doesn't think that this was going to happen like this. ] Remember what I said. Everything's going to be fine, Jim. Trust me.

[ he turns to spock, trying not to be angry, but the heat of his gaze says enough: ] Make yourself useful, Commander. Help me take him somewhere private.

Edited 2013-07-06 08:40 (UTC)

[There is no way for him to say no, that is incorrect, the Captain is dead without betraying how emotionally compromised he is. Scotty called him over Bones, knowing it was against protocol, and Spock honestly doesn't know why: nobody relies on Vulcans for emotional support. It was like watching his mother die all over again, both of them looking at him, the last living thing they would ever see in their lives and he can offer nothing but a complete lack of control over his own heart.]

[He is thrown into confusion again by Bones' words: he is so assured, is it possible he is from before..? Spock does not know, and he can't lie, not about this. He decides not to make any conclusions, they have been here for a few days and him, only minutes.]

Of course, Doctor. Lead the way. [Quietly:] Please.

[It is then that he moves, carefully staying near (but not touching) Jim to support him from the other side.]

[ His eyes screw shut when he hears Bones and a noise escapes him that he could never be proud of, nodding along and breathing, breathing, Breathe, Jim. Sucking in deep gouts through a flaring nose, he puffs them out and wets his lips, drawing footholds from the two people in the entire fucking universe he cares about more than any others being right there. It doesn't occur to him that Spock is also in shock; he's a little distracted. ]

I'm ... I'm good. Fuck. [ Releasing his First, he wraps a grateful arm around Bones and gives a squeeze, starting to head in the direction of the apartment they've acquired. No glass. It's hot because the sun's out. ] I should kick your ass, Spock.

[ It's a wheeze of a bitten-out joke, black humor at that, but Jim refocuses on his surroundings. With his grip firm on Bones, he keeps his head down as all three of them head off. ]

[ please. that's not a word that he hears spock say everyday, especially not directed at him in such an honest, open manner. his eyes study him for a moment as they walk toward the apartment that he and jim have holed in after their arrival, taking whatever change in him as best as his calculating eyes can. it's like the vulcan is a statue, stony-faced and quiet.

he remembers that, too. the disintegration of spock's mask and control when he finds jim's — well. you are dead should have really sounded the alarms in his head. this is unpleasant. this is more than unpleasant.

fuckdammitshit.

the apartment jim and bones are living in right now is small but cozy, furnished, somewhat devoid of life at the moment, but understandably so. he takes jim to the couch, pushing him down gently. ]

Lay down, kid. Don't make me repeat myself. [ he then motions for spock to sit down on the armchair closest to them. his voice noticeably gentler now. though still quite firm. ] And you, Spock. Sit.

[He is utterly silent the entire time it takes from the marketplace to the apartment. Spock does not even relax when they are inside, he stands to the side, feeling as though he is intruding somewhere he should not be - where he has no place being. Jim and Bones are both emotional beings and-- it's only logical they should express what Spock shouldn't, can't.]

[He does not sit immediately, he circles the armchair quizzically, as though attempting to determine if it too is a hallucination. Doctor's orders, however, are doctor's orders, and eventually he sits down, hands in his lap, his thumb pressing into his index finger, the closest he gets to fidgeting. He is cracking - he is an out of control mess and none of this (Jim is alive) is helping at all. He doubts even Bones can fix this, skilled though he may be, and that doubt persists despite evidence to the opposite conclusion (McCoy is a miracle worker, there is nothing he cannot fix. It is a fact, just like Jim being Captain was always a fact).]

[Then, he waits, as he did for the ship to crash in the atmosphere, strapping himself in with figurative seatbelts, and instinctively he looks to a different chair for Sulu, who has just disobeyed an order to leave. But Sulu is not there, it's only him, and Jim, and Bones, in a quiet apartment in a strange city.]

[ The trip home (haha, "home") is uneventfully quiet and mired in grief that has nowhere to go but into choked throats. That's how Jim feels, at least. By the time Bones sits him down, Jim's been stealing long enough glances at Spock to see there's something significantly twisted out of place there too (misaligned) in the quiet void where there should be skipping intellect and quips and barbed replies aimed at everyone in his general vicinity. Jim looks at him at length, shifts forward to crouch in front of him over a bent knee. Bones will kill him for moving, he's sure, a concern that slips into the wayside. ]

Spock. [ A hand covers one of a pair cemented to a lap and Jim tries to reach into wherever Spock's gone. He's still perfectly aware, obviously, but. I know you. ] Spock, look at me.

[ It's his turn now to do the comforting, gesturing clumsily with his free hand at the furniture, room, everything. Blue eyes flicker like shuttering lasers when he has to blink the salt-sweat from stinging his eyes. ]

Ignore that, all of it, I'm. I'm the only thing I want you to look at, okay? You listen to your Captain.

[ he would have scolded him, yes, but he figures out what jim is doing half way through and lets him, a hand squeezing jim's shoulder to let him know that he isn't mad, that it's okay. he needs this, they need this.

( for two agonizing weeks in the future it is him and spock watching over jim as he sleeps on, and even when spock has calmed down under his watch, even when the wounds have been stitched together, they never truly heal until jim opens his eyes for the first time. and then it is bones and spock comforting jim, proving to him that he is alive, saved, and that takes a while, too.

bones has not needed his own comfort, because the only thing he needs is for them to be safe, sound, and alive. ) ]

Listen to Jim, Spock. Focus on him. [ he says, quiet but just as commanding, the doctor's voice. empathetic, knowing, gentle. his fingers trace over the edges of one of Spock's sleeve, gliding over his wrists, careful not to touch his skin. but he sees the droplets of blood on his hands, knows whose they are. what spock to know that he knows it, too. ] And listen to me, alright? Jim's alive here, and Jim will live wherever you came from. I will make sure of it. I have. You need to trust me to do my job, too.

Edited (I KEEP EDITING I'M SORRY) 2013-07-06 09:50 (UTC)

[Had he known, he would have kicked himself for being so obvious. He looks at Jim, and then at Bones, then back to Jim, looking rather than seeing, hearing rather than listening. Spock withdraws his hand from Jim, squaring his shoulders, before he fixes Bones with an expression that is sadness, confusion, and shock all at once (He disobeys his Captain's orders, for one of the few times in his life). He doesn't know if he managed to wipe the tears from his face properly, but the blood is enough. He and Bones both know whose it is, who Spock failed to bring in because he came here instead.]

Doctor. [Distant, almost plaintive:] It would be more [logical but what was logic? It couldn't save your best (and perhaps only) friend from the inevitable] practical to explain how you were able to accomplish it. Given the existence of the temporal anomaly, through our actions we may have inadvertently created another parallel universe.

[He takes refuge in the concrete, clinging to it stubbornly. People did not come back from the dead - and he knew all the symptoms of radiation poisoning, he'd seen it all happen right in front of his eyes. He mentally starts reciting the list, and he has to know.]

Edited 2013-07-06 09:55 (UTC)

[ He's never been more inspired to believe they could all fix each other if only they knew the right angle to hit it from. That's just how Jim works, tactics and strategies, trying to find the right solution while Spock claws at logic and Bones serves up empathy enough to fill a starship with happy, healthy people. Playing to his strengths right now involves pleading with Bones with a silent stare that switches to Spock as their friend withdraws into himself; Jim sits back on the coffee table and clasps his own hands tightly as he's forced to play a waiting game.

I did this, flickers across his mind's eye, the guilt of it stoppering any further consolations until Spock can accept them. I don't know how to help you, and I did this. ]

[ he keeps his eyes on spock, but he knows jim well enough that the one moment that their eyes are no longer looking at him, he will retreat behind his walls, carefully built. he keeps his hands on jim even as the man pushes himself back, lets his hand fall on jim's pair, fingertips brushing against his skin, thumb playing around his fingers. a reminder, a comfort, something to hold on to. anything that jim needs, he's there.

and then there's spock, who wants his goddamn logic and rules and practicality, and bones gives it to him, anyway, because conflict is not what he needs. they stand united, even through their differences. ]

Khan's blood. [ his eyes flick downward briefly before meeting spock's again. ] His genetically-engineered body also enhanced the regenerative properties in his blood. I tested the sample I took during his captivity on the dead Tribble in my office. Since it was kept in a frozen state, its brain function was still technically operational, so when it received the blood, it healed and lived again.

When I realized that, I did the same to Jim. I put him in one of the cryotubes and preserved him, and I temporarily placed the original human body in a medically-induced coma. You and Uhura brought Khan back to the Enterprise at my demand.

[ there are a lot of things that he doesn't say, for jim's sake, but he knows that spock will understand them well enough. he's just as intelligent as jim, if not more. he doesn't say that he knows what spock has done to have blood in his hands, that he knows that spock probably will not stop until he hears uhura's voice telling him that jim can be saved by bones, that khan needs to be alive. that it will take another person to make him stop, as well as the promise of jim's life, because he will see nothing but red. ]

As your concern for our temporal anomaly, Jim can tell you about that. [ look at him now, spock. he's alive. ]

Edited 2013-07-06 10:23 (UTC)

[Despite spending so much time with the crew, with the two of them, Spock is still woefully under-equipped at reading their emotions. Friendship has always been one of the things he is honestly just bad at, no matter how hard he tries - he hardly had any tact, he could not inspire confidence from the crew. (And yet, Jim'd said You are the one who knows what you're doing). Spock had only taken the chair because of Jim; Bones knows this and Spock hears it, subtly, the unspoken burden they both share, and will share as they wait for Jim to wake up.]

[Khan's blood. His eyes narrow, briefly, but he says nothing, keeps his neutral expression up. At my demand. So it would be Nyota who came to get him, to pull him back, and instantly, he tries desperately not to think of her eyes, or her touch, because she is the only one who would know exactly what to do, and she is not here for him. The rage has not dissipated, but it is significantly muted, an iceberg almost completely hidden under the surface, only noticeable when struck.]

[It would have taken a miracle to get Spock to accept that the Jim in front of him is the one from their universe, and he is alive; Bones carries the name miracle worker and he did it again. Spock lets go of a burden he did not even know he was carrying, and looks at Jim, with new eyes.]

Thank you. [A sharp nod towards Jim.] Sir. I apologise for my conduct.

[I cried.]

[ His grip on Bones' hand is unrelenting, hardly even given a thought when it clasps automatically and goes on its own personal lockdown until mid-way through the explanation of Khan's blood. It's more than a little sickening to think there's a part of that psychopath inside of him but Jim isn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth, not when Bones is a certified genius and Jim very literally owes him every waking second he'll have from now on. For his part, Spock reels through the facts in a way that Jim doesn't feel qualified to interrupt, even if he'd give up everything all over again to save these men; this isn't as new to him as it is to his First, insisting over and over how well they work together and how good a team they are. He's still astonished every time Spock shifts gears and stalls on how to be his friend, the idiot does it all the time.

Jim laughs low and a little sad, ducking his head to rub at his eyes and keep the dampness there from overwhelming him when he looks back up to meet a steadier, surer gaze. Knowing Bones' is on them both too, any attempt at hiding how raw Jim's terror was in the decontamination chamber is going to be a futile exercise, so beyond stubbornly refusing to cry there's little that can be done. He doesn't try to pretend it was okay. ]

I was so scared and you stayed with me. You hunted that bastard down and saved my life. Why are you apologizing? [ Jim raises his chin in a similarly curt nod and bites his lower lip for a moment, expression easing on a somewhat familiar, exasperated sigh. ] Your conduct was exemplary, Spock.

[ this is the moment of reckoning, bones thinks, for the two of them. this is where jim finally admits his fears and spock lets his guard down to jim, something that's always so hard-pressed when it comes to the both of them. this is where they'll heal themselves, together, and for now, that's enough for bones, enough to know that he's done his job and saved them from themselves. they'll be fine. he'll be fine. they'll get through it, even if it takes them a year or ten.

he stands up straighter, squeezing spock's knee as he goes, a comfort for him as well. ]

I'm going to go and make us some lunch. [ his voice is loud and gruff, but the message is clear. ] Call me if you need anything.

[ he turns to look at jim, a million things in his eyes, but he squeezes his hands and ruffles his hair a bit. jim doesn't have to say anything to him because he already knows. when all is said and done, they'll have their own talk, about a lot of things. jim's fears and insecurities, and things bones never says because two broken men don't need a third burden in their midst.

and when he leaves to putter around the kitchen, it's with the knowledge that everything is going to be alright. ]

[The corner of his lip twitches slightly, the smallest of smiles, as Bones leaves. It is as close to thank you for being here as Spock will ever get to the CMO of their ship, because admitting that is still a step none of them know how to deal with.]

[He keeps his eyes on Bones' back as he disappears into the kitchen, using the distance to centre himself completely before he focuses on Jim, processes the words. He was terrified. They were both terrified, and it is the warmth of Jim's tone that throws Spock completely off, makes him think that none of that mission happened - he didn't see Marcus betray them, Khan threatening them, Jim begging for his crew's lives--]

[Calmly, quietly:] Jim. It was not. [He lost control, he saw red, what else could he say but I gave in to the need for revenge, the very mistake I cautioned you against? But enough. Enough of that. He clings to hope because it is the last thing left, and because it was Bones who gave it to him.] Perhaps it would be wiser to focus on topics more pertinent to our current situation. Are you well, here?

[Awkward talk about feelings: go.]

[ Hair ruffled when Bones passes to be a paragon of tact by his own standards, Jim feels something slot back into place where before he had been missing parts of himself.

He won't fight a losing battle against Spock, not when they're both so firmly entrenched in their opinion on the matter. The important thing is that they can see where they're coming from and accept things for what they were, will be, all the same. Raising his brows, he shifts to sit in a nearby chair, still leaning over his knees but a mite more comfortable as he sorts through where to start. It's strange to think that he once disliked Spock enough to bristle from just being in the same room as him, and now he trusts him with his deepest secrets. ]

I've been having nightmares, they're ... frequent. I figure they've got to go away eventually, just. Trying not to think about it. [ Belatedly as something occurs to him, he calls over a shoulder to Bones, Tell the others he's here, I lost my comms. That's when Jim turns back and sighs bracingly, sorting his head out with more ease than he's felt in days. ] Chekov are Uhura are here, they live off in some magical ... I don't even know, some weird house. Me and Bones decided we'd rather have somewhere normal.

[ His hands loosen, re-clasping with an idle clap. ]

Chekov's been here the longest, he told me the stars don't move in regular patterns so we're not orbiting anything. We're trapped in an intersection of space-time where nothing continues back home until we return, it's effectively frozen without us, and we're all pulled from different points in our time-line. There's no parallel universe this time, thank God.

[Jim let it go. That was probably a warning sign, and Spock-- wants to keep at it but doesn't. He is relieved, so utterly and completely, that he slumps a little where he sits. Despite this, he is paying attention to Jim carefully, because this will be his Jim, in the future. He must know how best to assist - even if he is left on the other side, unable to reach his friend. He must know.]

[So he observes. The energy has left Jim - he is a shuttle spiralling out of control, heading downwards. Nightmares, he can do nothing about, that is a doctor's realm of expertise, or a psychiatrist's.]

Magical? [His eyebrow arches, considering the information (Nyota is here. How far ahead or behind is she? He will talk to her later).] A nexus such as this would possess highly advanced technology undetectable to our own, perhaps. [But not magic that's just ridiculous.]

You can appreciate the constant source of a migraine this place gives me. Imagine everyone describing what they do as magical or thereabouts.

[ He's not even a scientist and he's in hell. ]

So far I haven't been able to find out who it is that actually runs this place, I'm thinking of publicly asking them to answer for what they've done here.

[screaming internally tbqh.]

What has transpired here, Captain?

They kidnapped Chekov, Uhura, spat her back out, then tossed her back in with me and Bones when we arrived. Communicators are down, literally no one has any idea who the ruling force of this place is, even though they fought a war against so-called deities for them, and I'm about to rip my hair out because I can't figure out how to get my crew home. That's what is happening, Spock.

[ In a nutshell. ]

[He nearly sees red, and his fist clenches, but he is going to be in control now. Kirk did not see him, when he had screamed for Khan's blood.]

My communicator appears to be functioning normally, as does my tricorder. How may I assist?

[ His laugh is brittle, grateful in a way it shouldn't be when his patience with this world has been stretched so thin. ]

You could find out whether the Enterprise can get a lock on us all and beam us the hell out of here.

[ Although something tells him that's going to be a problem. Fucking City. ]

[He takes out his communicator and attempts to contact the ship. Nothing happens. After a few tries, he puts it down.]

It appears you are stranded here, for the time being.

[But Kirk's got a plan, he always does. Spock just needs to hear it and figure out how feasible it is.]

[ He quirks a brow at the phrasing, flicking a strategy together in string and tape inside his head, reinforcing it as he does so. ]

How's their lock on you?

Unclear. I was invited here. It implies I am allowed to leave.

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