[ He sucks in a sharp breath when the meld connects. It's nowhere near as caustic as the previous one, putting him in Spock's mind and a sea of consciousness that makes his head ache from the off with tomes afforded to grief in endless mausoleums that he's guided from as his own mind surrenders, pushes in the same moment. The same sense of home, family, mine applies to the Enterprise with fervent force like a storm around its eye, protective and fierce and fueled by love as harrowing as the deepest note of a lion's roar that carries for lightyears. Following Spock's lead, that sense of one, Jim pulls him into the past from his own viewpoint.
The entire City is grey from the moment he vomits into a fountain (hurts, it hurts) and Bones is there to haul him free, so much time spent languishing in slow-motion with the constant fear of this is death, none of it is real worn as an invisible cowl. There's not so much the sight of Spock as the overwhelming fright and desperation to get back to where they were on the ship when Jim finds him, holding onto Vulcan-shaped driftwood. You are dead. It's like being stabbed and then Bones is whispering in his ear, holding him up, there's a room and Jim wants to grab onto Spock who looks like he's withering inside. He isn't scared when Spock looks like that because it means he has to be brave.
The first time he lets him out of his sight (Use the tricorder to take readings, come back soon) he walks back to the closed door and stands there leaning on it for a full five minutes, stopping himself from going after him. Spock vanishes and there's the same anger as before, the grey slips into place and his eyes just want to see the right shade of blue. It's cold for a week in the City and its forests, he sleeps where he drops against trees, gets up and carries on. Bones is angry. You'll get sick, Jim. Uhura is grief-stricken and Jim is so cheated that none of them feel the need to turn over every single rock.
This could be a volcano. Grey, ashen, obscured. There's no blue to be found and it seems so much like he let him die somehow, burned up not by fire this time but time and space itself. ]
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The entire City is grey from the moment he vomits into a fountain (hurts, it hurts) and Bones is there to haul him free, so much time spent languishing in slow-motion with the constant fear of this is death, none of it is real worn as an invisible cowl. There's not so much the sight of Spock as the overwhelming fright and desperation to get back to where they were on the ship when Jim finds him, holding onto Vulcan-shaped driftwood. You are dead. It's like being stabbed and then Bones is whispering in his ear, holding him up, there's a room and Jim wants to grab onto Spock who looks like he's withering inside. He isn't scared when Spock looks like that because it means he has to be brave.
The first time he lets him out of his sight (Use the tricorder to take readings, come back soon) he walks back to the closed door and stands there leaning on it for a full five minutes, stopping himself from going after him. Spock vanishes and there's the same anger as before, the grey slips into place and his eyes just want to see the right shade of blue. It's cold for a week in the City and its forests, he sleeps where he drops against trees, gets up and carries on. Bones is angry. You'll get sick, Jim. Uhura is grief-stricken and Jim is so cheated that none of them feel the need to turn over every single rock.
This could be a volcano. Grey, ashen, obscured. There's no blue to be found and it seems so much like he let him die somehow, burned up not by fire this time but time and space itself. ]