Title: Forget Me Not (5/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: When Jim spends time with his First Officer and CMO, he seems sad. Neither Spock nor McCoy can figure out why.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Or read at AO3

I told them once I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I did what they asked me to. I paid the price for the good of the many, not the few. In that moment, they will seem to understand. They will sympathize. They will forgive me.

Then they will say, ‘We’ve paid this price long enough, Jim.’

I cannot make them understand that the choice, decided together so long ago, can never be undone.

Personal Log, James T. Kirk

Jim watches them like he knows they have set a trap. He looks livid; he also looks resigned.

“Do you want it back?” McCoy murmurs for the man’s hearing only as he leans against the back of the captain’s chair like he is long-used to taking up a position there.

Jim’s expression does not falter, gives nothing away to the other officers on the Bridge. The tightening of one of his fists on the chair arm is answer enough to McCoy’s question.

In the wake of a lack of response, Leonard shoots a sidelong glance towards the Science station as he retreats to the turbolift. Spock, without turning in Leonard’s direction, tilts his head ever-so-slightly. They will meet later to discuss the next step in their plan.

“He won’t take the bait,” Leonard McCoy complains in the privacy of Spock’s quarters hours later, his grim certainty signified by the downturn of his mouth.

Spock has the unusual urge to offer soothing commentary, but logical observation is ingrained in him. “If the Captain wished the rightful owners to have the rings, he would not be in possession of them. He will attempt to regain what he has lost, Leonard.”

“How? By sneaking into our quarters while we’re out to pilfer ’em?”

Spock considers what he knows about Jim’s personality. “The attack will be straightforward.”

Leonard throws his hands into the air as if Spock had said exactly the wrong thing. “Then where is he, Spock?”

“He is scheduled to work to the end of this shift, which concludes in another ten minutes and thirty-seven seconds,” Spock explains patiently.

“Like that’s ever stopped Jim from taking a notion into his head and acting on it right then and there!” grumps the human.

“Doctor, I believe you are describing yourself rather than the Captain.”

Spock allows for a flash of smug pleasure when Leonard glares at him.

“You must think all humans are alike, hobgoblin.”

“On the contrary. While you and Jim do possess remarkably similar personality traits and, often, temperaments, you are unique in how your thought processes operate, even when you both reach the same conclusion to a problem. As the child of a telepathic race, I appreciate those differences.”

His remark appears to mollify the doctor. Leonard’s mouth gives its characteristic twitch of humor which will, Spock suspects, become a grin momentarily.

“Darlin’, you always say the sweetest things,” drawls Spock’s companion, blue eyes twinkling.

Spock lifts an eyebrow. “Is this an attempt to flirt with me? I must remind you we are not off-duty ourselves, Dr. McCoy.”

Leonard flaps a hand at him. “Keep your Vulcan pants on, Spock. I won’t—”

That is not how the statement should go, Spock thinks. Then again, Leonard has never been particular about adhering to traditional colloquiums.

“—offend your delicate sensibilities with my human disregard for propriety when at work.”

Is Leonard accusing him of being priggish? This does not please Spock. He is not priggish; he simply maintains control over his baser desires until the optimal time. It seems he must prove this point to the doctor.

Leonard is too innocent and trusting to be disturbed by Spock’s sudden approach—until, that is, Spock takes a hold of the human’s chin. “There is a technique you humans prefer called ‘kissing’,” Spock tells him, tone impervious to the closeness of their faces, “because the flesh of your mouth is an erogenous zone.”

Leonard, eyes enlarged, makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. It might be Spock’s name.

“You know, of course, that Vulcan physiology is different than a human’s. We do not have an erogenous zone, per se, but the psy-sensitivity of our fingertips can serve a dual purpose.” He runs a thumb along the man’s bottom lip.

Leonard wobbles. Spock aids in propping him up.

“Would you like a demonstration?” the Vulcan asks politely.

“Y-Yes…?”

It is most unfortunate Captain Kirk chooses that moment to enter through the jointly shared bathroom connecting their quarters. Kirk stops short upon seeing Spock and Leonard in an embrace. Were it not Jim but some other starship personnel, Spock knows he would feel deep embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position.

Apparently Leonard does not consider their position compromising enough. “Damn it, Jim! You and your poor timing!” Leonard makes an unhappy sound, like a child suddenly deprived of a treat, as Spock steps back to put a proper distance between them.

A flicker of amusement crosses Jim’s face at McCoy’s peeved tone. “Sorry, Bones. It happens.”

The doctor sputters then proceeds to compile a list of disparaging descriptions concerning the captain’s person. Spock mentally catalogues each description (none of which, he notes with mild interest, seem to bother Kirk), only pausing briefly upon the one that pertains to the blocking of a male’s genital organ. Spock does not understand it. However, he feels he must take the conversation swiftly in hand before Leonard thinks of more inappropriate descriptions.

“There will be another opportunity for a demonstration,” Spock promises Leonard, which has the effect of simultaneously quieting the human and triggering a flush under his skin. To Jim, he inquires, “Captain, may I assist you in some way?”

Jim does not mince words, as Spock predicted. “You have something of mine, Mr. Spock. I want it back.”

Leonard’s involuntary glance in the direction of a particular drawer in Spock’s work desk precludes the necessity of pretending ignorance. Jim, who somehow knew McCoy would be the one to let slip a hint of the object-in-question’s whereabouts, catches the glance and strides to the desk with an arrogant “Thank you, Bones.”

At that point, Spock sees no need to temper Leonard’s reaction.

“Son of a…!” exclaims Leonard, realizing his mistake a second too late.

At least Spock is smart enough to block Jim’s path for the length of time it takes Leonard to dive for the desk and retrieve the necklace before Jim can.

“Spock!” Jim snaps, no doubt beyond pissed to have his plan of action thwarted.

Spock is as cool as a cucumber when he replies, “Yes, Jim?”

Without another word, Jim pushes past the Vulcan and levels a glare at Leonard. He demands, “I want it, Bones. It isn’t yours.”

Leonard snorts and unhooks the long chain, removing the gold band he only has to look at to know belongs to him from it. “Somehow I don’t think that’s correct, Jim.” To make his point, Leonard slides the band onto the ring finger of his left hand. It covers the white mark encircling his finger and instantly warms to the temperature of his skin like it had never been removed in the first place.

“Bones…” Jim’s eyes linger on the ring as he swallows. “Take it off.”

“Why?” he challenges. “Seems like a perfect fit.”

The color comes and goes in Jim’s face. Abruptly the man gives in, saying harshly, “Keep it” and turns for the door.

Oh, no. Jim isn’t getting away that easily! Leonard skips in front of Kirk, planting a hand on the man’s chest. Jim’s hand automatically reaches up to curl around Leonard’s, the wedding ring an unyielding presence between them. After a heartbeat or two, Jim removes Leonard’s hand from his chest and drops it.

“You can’t go,” Leonard says.

“I don’t want to fight with you, McCoy.”

“Ditto, Jim.” Leonard studies his captain’s face. “But the price for leaving is the answer to a question.”

“Must I continue to pay?” Jim asks in a bitter tone, which makes no sense to Leonard.

Spock steps into the periphery of their vision. “Jim.”

Funny, Leonard thinks, that all it takes is for the Vulcan to say Jim’s name to get an honest response from him.

The man shudders. “Okay.” Jim steps back, then, towards the middle of the room, a hard slant returning to his jaw. “Okay. Warning you would be pointless so if you must, ask me.”

Leonard is never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Figuring Jim isn’t in the mood to dance around with words, he chooses to be blunt. “How long have we been married?”

Jim’s nostrils flare. “We aren’t married, Bones.”

Spock seems to hear something beneath that flat remark because he rephrases the question. “How long have we been unofficially bonded to one another?”

The look that comes into Jim’s eyes makes Leonard regret the question. Jim is no longer bitter or hostile or even angry; his gaze turns cold and level, implacably stern. The look, Leonard realizes, is not meant for either of them. It is himself Jim considers and judges—and passes a sentence upon.

“Three years. The anniversary was last month.”

Three… years? Leonard cannot fathom it. “But why?” he demands, voice rising with each word. “Why don’t we know—remember that? Jim!”

Jim looks away, still cold. “It doesn’t matter.”

Leonard grabs the man not unlike Kirk had done to him in Sickbay a couple of days ago and forces Jim to face him. “You, you…” An awful word is on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t you dare tell me it doesn’t matter! I love you! It does matter!”

He hears the ‘I love you’ after he says it and knows he won’t take it back. It’s the truth. Something Spock had realized long before Leonard did.

Jim’s facial expression doesn’t change but everything about him seems to sag. His eyes fill with an old regret and that tells Leonard all he needs to know.

“What happened?” a not-unsympathetic voice asks at Leonard’s shoulder.

Jim fixes his gaze in the vicinity of Spock’s collarbone. “Nothing can be done, Spock.”

“But you must give us an explanation.”

For a single second, Jim appears close to tears. His tone is no longer distant and to hear it hurts. “If I had known this was part of it… Maybe it is my penance,” the man murmurs mostly to himself. Then, wearily, “All right. I know I have to tell you. Bones, can you let me go please?”

Leonard does.

“You won’t remember the responsible party—naturally that would defeat the purpose of what they’ve done.”

“Damn.”

A dark amusement passes through Kirk’s eyes before it vanishes. “We encountered a new race of beings by chance. At the time, you made the remark, Bones, that it was just our luck we didn’t have to even look for trouble for it to find us.”

Leonard can almost hear himself saying something like that but the memory fades too quickly for him to hold on to it.

Jim asks them, “Do you remember Triskelion and the Providers?”

Leonard nods slowly. “You, Chekov, and Uhura were taken for a betting game.”

“That game depended on a fight to the death between opponents, for the entertainment, enjoyment, and profit of the Providers. These beings wanted nothing so crude—but they did capture our ship and they did force us into an untenable position. I…” Jim’s voice breaks momentarily. “…couldn’t get us out of it. I tried. We all did. I offered them myself, my life, in exchange for the freedom of the crew.”

Leonard has a sense of how that upsets Spock, who would be tightening his hands behind his back in effort to tamp down on strong negative emotions.

“In the end,” Jim explains, “they agreed one of us could pay a personal price and they would let the ship, and us with it, go.”

“So you did,” Leonard finishes, choking on the thought.

But Jim shakes his head. “I couldn’t, at first. They wanted me to give up the—the one thing I didn’t want to lose.” His expression changes, implores them. “You… can’t know how I felt. Giving up someone you love, a person who against all odds you thought you would never have, is like living without your eyes or your mind. I had twice that much to lose… and now, sometimes, I wake up and wish I had given my eyes and my mind instead.”

The confession breaks Leonard’s heart.

Jim looks away and this time Leonard lets him. “I asked them if you could still have each other. They said it might be possible. I understand what they meant now, even if I didn’t back then.” His mouth stretches in a brief, bitter smile. “But you won’t stay satisfied with that, will you?” He sighs heavily through his nose, once again remarking, “…It doesn’t matter.”

Leonard is beginning to hate that phrase.

“In the end, a decision had to be made. They had the advantage. We could continue to slowly starve, suspended in space, without communications and eventually without power to run the ship’s life support. I knew what we faced because I have lived that way once before. It makes you desperate; it makes you hopeless. Of those Kodos did not kill in the initial weeks of entrapment, do you know how many of them committed suicide because they had lost hope?”

Leonard is glad the question is rhetorical. Thinking of the Tarsus IV genocide makes his stomach turn.

Jim’s gaze finds them again. “If it had been just the three of us, I would have gladly died alongside you. But the others, the ones who didn’t have what we did… can you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Yes,” Spock answers softly.

Jim takes Leonard’s hand and raises it for them all to see. The gold band catches the light. “A marriage or a bond, however you put it, is a partnership. I told you what they wanted.” He holds their eyes. “It was our decision to give it to them.”

Leonard feels his breath hitch. How awful that moment must have been for them; and how awful he feels now that he is grateful he cannot remember it. The thought leads him to a new question. “But, Jim… why can you remember this when we don’t?”

Spock answers in Jim’s stead. “It is not a sacrifice if no one recalls the price, Doctor. Captain, how long ago did this… event occur?”

“Nineteen months.”

“We have had this conversation before.”

It isn’t a question. Nevertheless Jim confirms it, voice turning rough: “Variations of it, yes.”

It takes a moment for the implication of that revelation to fully ripen in Leonard’s brain. When it does, he cannot speak, he is so horrified by it.

“I’ve given you what you want.” Jim closes his eyes, looking like a man at the end of his endurance. “May I go now, Commander?”

That he asks Spock for permission is an idiosyncrasy which drives home to Leonard what they are putting Jim through. Oh, the pain in those eyes. Leonard can hardly bear to look.

“Jim…” His voice sticks from too much emotion.

Silently, just once, Spock nods.

Jim turns on his heel, the set of his body stiff like a marionette, and exits the First Officer’s quarters.

Leonard can only think to say belatedly as the door closes in Kirk’s wake, “He shouldn’t be alone.” But hasn’t Jim been alone all this time?

The voice in his head whispers, Nineteen months.

“It would be unkind to make him stay.”

For once Leonard finds he cannot disagree with the Vulcan.

The ring on his finger is heavy, an unpleasant weight. Leonard takes it off and puts it in his pocket, not certain what he wants to do with it now.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Forget Me Not (10/10) – from April 1, 2013
• Forget Me Not (9/10) – from April 1, 2013
• Forget Me Not (8/10) – from March 18, 2013
• Forget Me Not (7/?) – from March 12, 2013
• Forget Me Not (6/?) – from March 6, 2013