He doesn't text back, just continues course to, he now realizes, the room he'd already begun walking towards. It's only a few moments more before he arrives. His strides are quicker, his jaw more firmly set; he has spent years learning to reign in his rage, bottle it all up, techniques of which he continued to utilize.
Spock moves into the room and waits for that door to close behind him before he'll speak. Though lowered, he knows it will carry across the entire apartment/cabin.
"Did it never occur to you to ask me how I felt before you broadcasted our history across the entire ship?" He asks, his voice commanding, yet strained, betraying every bit of the anger he held in check. "What did you honestly think was going to happen, Jim?"
He was sitting on his couch when Spock entered, dressed down - jeans, a comfortable shirt, no shoes. It was as bare as he ever actually got, aside from swimming or exercising, and it was an oddly vulnerable form of dress for the captain. He didn't start when Spock came in, didn't say anything as the Vulcan seethed at him, and he couldn't exactly blame him. No, not exactly blame him - straight up couldn't.
His only personal consolation was that he had meant well, if gone about it badly as it now seemed and greatly overestimated the people here on this ship.
"That I would get clarity on the situation, for my end," he said, trying his best not to sound stiff and at least as contrite as he actually felt. He didn't get up, though he did regard Spock from his position, in that way at least making himself physically subservient to the other. "Because what we're currently working with isn't tenable, but I needed to go into whatever discussion we have with a clearer idea of my own thoughts and feelings on the matter. I admit the way I went about that clarity was not as delicate as I had thought it might be."
Spock sits down on the couch, at its very end, one seat between them. They were even, neither one above the other. His hands move to his knees as he listens.
"Did you achieve what you wanted as you willingly threw yourself into danger?" It hadn't been the first thing he'd thought to say, but it rushed ahead of everything else. He blinks, and one of his hands flex, gripping more tightly. "You not only exposed your vulnerable side to those who would do grievous harm to you, but myself as well."
He half turns to him. "That is all before we discuss the breach of trust."
Even that little space comes as a surprise. He would have thought Spock might pace, or keep on his feet, as was his right given the situation. He took it for a bit of hopefulness, though was careful to keep it reigned in - careful, quiet, a tiny little spark in his chest.
"You know me, Spock - my problem is that I trust to easily, and think the best of people when I perhaps should not," he shook his head, slowly turning his gaze back to the other man. "And I don't know yet. There's some more clarity, but I don't know that there will ever really be a right answer, now will there?"
He shifted, making himself as comfortable as possible. He suspected this would be a long talk. Hopefully a long one, anyways.
The inclination to pace had been there, but he keeps it reigned in, along with his rage. It will come out eventually, but this was a delicate situation, he knew. Kirk wasn't Khan, and this was not a problem he could get through by simply punching something.
He shakes his head emphatically at the question. "I'm going to tell you about one of the people you just broadcast to so openly. This man likes to test people to their breaking point. His final act before coming here, a second time, was to separate a city onto two ferries. One, the citizens, and the other, its prisoners. Those ferries were rigged with explosives, and each ship had the other's detonator."
Spock waits for the implications of that to sink in before continuing. "Neither boat set the other off, thereby rendering his plan unsuccessful. I know this, because that man is my inmate to look after for as long as he and I are here. Among several other qualities, he possesses a knife - a weapon I willingly returned - the desire to tear machines apart, and a severe lack of self preservation."
Another beat. "I doubt he is even the worst person here."
Unsettling, to say the least. He had known people here were categorizes an inmates and wardens and that not everyone had a sterling record, but he hardly expected wardens to even be paragons of good citizenship or whatever the Admiral was looking for. Hell, there hadn't exactly been an elaboration on what people could get counted as an inmate for. Something quite like that hadn't crossed his mind, simply because the level of derangement was - well, almost Khan levels, though he understood Khan's reasonings better, even sympathized with them to a degree.
"That sounds like a particular challenge for you," he commented, considering the nature of the man and what he knew of Spock. "Pairing the most logical warden with the most seemingly illogical inmate." A beat. "But I see your point." He didn't even comment on the fact that the lack of self preservation was a trait he and this inmate had in common.
"I fervently hope you do, Jim." Spock replies, adding in words he would not ordinarily use. "I cannot stress enough that you must utilize caution here."
He couldn't be sure the Joker would ever actually attempt anything. All he did know was he kept up with the network, drawn like drama as a shark to blood. Joker was not as unpredictable as he would project, of this at least, Spock was quite certain.
That aspect of the conversation was settled. He steeples his hands together, fingers splayed, and moves until his back is against the couch's plush cushion.
"Remind me," he begins. "If you spoke so openly of people you slept with before, or if I am just privileged enough to be the first."
Fingers pressed the bridge of his nose and he let out a heft sigh.
"I didn't explicitly say we had, not at first. All I said was that there were feelings involved and that there were unique circumstances as to why those might be an issue," he said. "The admittance of anything more physical was a mistake on my part during conversation, and there were no explicit details. As for others - have I admitted to other people that I have slept with other certain people before? Yes. It is not so taboo in human culture, though I understand it is not the same in Vulcan culture."
Straight forward and to the point, trying to keep a rise of very human defensive emotion out of it. He knew Spock would not respond well, and it wasn't like he had any right to be so.
"I'm well aware of most human cultural taboos. Nyota instructed me well in that regard. I learned all too well that decency meant different things to different people."
Wrong, perhaps, to bring her name up in this conversation, but there it was. A person in spirit to fill the space between them. He saw what had been written. The disastrous blunder of what happens when a reckless, headstrong captain rushed forward without thinking, or even learning his own communicator before attempting to use it.
Then again, it wasn't like the Enterprise had come with an safety manual before Nero's attack, either.
A beat of silence. Then another. All the while that rage coils, unwinds, tenses again. It's contained, dealt with; helped by Jim intentionally not provoking him. This was not an "emotionally compromised" situation; just another of the Captain disregarding the rules.
He sighs, heavily, pressing his fingers more firmly together.
"I do not know what our next step should be. If we even should have one."
Despite himself, he flinched at her name. Her ghost settled heavy in the room, the knowledge of what Spock did in his time - the necklace, what it meant, just... everything. How much it had ached to see it around her neck, to learn what it was, even in the middle of a crisis. Easy to hide those feelings because of it, less so now when he had been stripped raw by everyone who had responded, much less the man sitting barely three feet from him.
"So we're on the same page about something, at least," Kirk leaned back into the sofa with a sigh. He licked his lips, tossing words about like dice, hoping some would come that made more sense than what could politely be called a word salad.
"I can't make that decision for you, Spock. At this point I am honestly hoping you do not outright disown me," he admitted, because god would he deserve it for this fuck up, but he seriously hoped that wasn't even an option in Spock's mind. "You saw it, when we kissed. We partially melded, right? I can't hide from you in a meld. So you know how I feel, and it's... I'll accept whatever you want of this now."
It was all he could really say, and it was the only right thing to say. No argument. No denial. He had to be the captain he was and take his punishment for his error in judgement.
They could never hide from each other during a meld, and perhaps that was partially why Spock had opened himself up so willingly before. That night in the hospital room, any time during Kirk's recovery thereafter. There was no need to say what they felt as it was almost always there between them, within a simple gesture.
It was something he intentionally avoided now.
"I will not disown you." He would alleviate that fear outright. "But. We should not be together, either. Not like that. You are my Captain, that will not change..."
There it was again, that crack in his voice right at the end. Just like with Jedao. He makes a sharp frustrated exhale through his nostrils, and stands suddenly. For all the spacious room provided, the cabin felt too stifling and small.
He did not want to pace, he wanted to leave, he wanted to remain, why couldn't things be simple? Spock looks over at Kirk, and he sees a clear glass door between them, locked. It hurts now as much as it did then. Only difference is when he felt the wetness in his eyes as before, the tear did not fall.
"I have been, and always shall be, your friend, Jim."
Was it a kind of insanity, having your heart broken by the same person
twice? Even though you knew to expect it, that morally and ethically you
knew you needed to hear the words to keep you from being the worst sort of
person? There was the salve of friendship, but it could never soothe the
acidic bite of seeing Spock with someone else, of knowing what could have
been or perhaps not.
Without thinking he rose from the couch as well, reaching out and grasping
at his fingers. Human emotion welled, unfettered before he could clamp it
down - relief, hope, guilt, acceptance, yearning. Defeat. Anguish. Love.
Romantic love.
“Thank you, Spock, and... and I know. I’ve always known.”
He couldn’t fathom his world without Spock, not for any longer than, say, a
stint as a Warden or some R&R or minor reassignments. Knowing he still had
him kept the knife in his chest from stopping his heart completely, but
deep within he wailed, raged at the unfairness of a universe who once again
showed him what he could not have. Emotion to strong to reign in,
unconsciously squeezing his hand before seeming to remember himself and
drawing back.
Perhaps he was not quite so good as Spock at hiding the wet gleam of his
eyes, the slight tremble of his lip before he mastered himself.
He should've pulled away, had wanted to, yet automatically, he presses their hands together, intertwining. Everything Kirk's feeling finds their matching pair in Spock, becoming amplified, wrapped up by betrayal, rage, anguish. For several seconds he's overwhelmed by this emotional whirlwind between them, a part of him wanting to remain, continue this downward spiral...
Before Kirk pulls away, Spock had already begun to do so, with his fingers forming into the trademark goodbye that every Vulcan, and most humans, knew well.
The gesture remains in the air a few seconds after their hands are no longer joined. Nothing more to say, or that he even could say, if he knew the words. It feels like a cord has been severed between them, even as the love remained and lingered. So instead of saying anything, he nods, turns on his heel, and walks out.
[ And he would be there, or be walking in at 4:15. Sorry, he can still
take him a moment to figure the ship out sometimes. Or maybe he just took a
bit on his hair. Either way, he's here. ]
[Quentin, on the other hand, is early- but also not a clock watcher. Just settled in the back with a table and a book, keeping his own company until Kirk arrives.
He glances up at approaching footsteps and gets to his feet with a quick little smile.]
Well it's not always falling out of the sky. I've done it more than once,
to be fair, but it's not all the time. And we're not always
attacked! Just... sometimes.
That can't exactly be easy on... anyone. Much less 'inmates'.
[ There was implied air quotes around the word, but he wasn't so sure
they should call them that, truthfully. He was skeptical on the Admiral's
overall legal and lawful authority, though the ship was clearly set up to
reinforce the notion of the two groups - warden and inmate, and he had
agreed to that in deciding to join as a warden. But, that was perhaps to
deep a conversation for the moment. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
universal_charm) wrote2037-01-06 03:24 pm
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Where are you? We need to speak. Immediately.
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My room. Come in when you get here.
[ No use running, right? ]
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Spock moves into the room and waits for that door to close behind him before he'll speak. Though lowered, he knows it will carry across the entire apartment/cabin.
"Did it never occur to you to ask me how I felt before you broadcasted our history across the entire ship?" He asks, his voice commanding, yet strained, betraying every bit of the anger he held in check. "What did you honestly think was going to happen, Jim?"
no subject
His only personal consolation was that he had meant well, if gone about it badly as it now seemed and greatly overestimated the people here on this ship.
"That I would get clarity on the situation, for my end," he said, trying his best not to sound stiff and at least as contrite as he actually felt. He didn't get up, though he did regard Spock from his position, in that way at least making himself physically subservient to the other. "Because what we're currently working with isn't tenable, but I needed to go into whatever discussion we have with a clearer idea of my own thoughts and feelings on the matter. I admit the way I went about that clarity was not as delicate as I had thought it might be."
no subject
"Did you achieve what you wanted as you willingly threw yourself into danger?" It hadn't been the first thing he'd thought to say, but it rushed ahead of everything else. He blinks, and one of his hands flex, gripping more tightly. "You not only exposed your vulnerable side to those who would do grievous harm to you, but myself as well."
He half turns to him. "That is all before we discuss the breach of trust."
no subject
"You know me, Spock - my problem is that I trust to easily, and think the best of people when I perhaps should not," he shook his head, slowly turning his gaze back to the other man. "And I don't know yet. There's some more clarity, but I don't know that there will ever really be a right answer, now will there?"
He shifted, making himself as comfortable as possible. He suspected this would be a long talk. Hopefully a long one, anyways.
"Is this where we move on to the next part?"
no subject
He shakes his head emphatically at the question. "I'm going to tell you about one of the people you just broadcast to so openly. This man likes to test people to their breaking point. His final act before coming here, a second time, was to separate a city onto two ferries. One, the citizens, and the other, its prisoners. Those ferries were rigged with explosives, and each ship had the other's detonator."
Spock waits for the implications of that to sink in before continuing. "Neither boat set the other off, thereby rendering his plan unsuccessful. I know this, because that man is my inmate to look after for as long as he and I are here. Among several other qualities, he possesses a knife - a weapon I willingly returned - the desire to tear machines apart, and a severe lack of self preservation."
Another beat. "I doubt he is even the worst person here."
no subject
"That sounds like a particular challenge for you," he commented, considering the nature of the man and what he knew of Spock. "Pairing the most logical warden with the most seemingly illogical inmate." A beat. "But I see your point." He didn't even comment on the fact that the lack of self preservation was a trait he and this inmate had in common.
no subject
He couldn't be sure the Joker would ever actually attempt anything. All he did know was he kept up with the network, drawn like drama as a shark to blood. Joker was not as unpredictable as he would project, of this at least, Spock was quite certain.
That aspect of the conversation was settled. He steeples his hands together, fingers splayed, and moves until his back is against the couch's plush cushion.
"Remind me," he begins. "If you spoke so openly of people you slept with before, or if I am just privileged enough to be the first."
no subject
"I didn't explicitly say we had, not at first. All I said was that there were feelings involved and that there were unique circumstances as to why those might be an issue," he said. "The admittance of anything more physical was a mistake on my part during conversation, and there were no explicit details. As for others - have I admitted to other people that I have slept with other certain people before? Yes. It is not so taboo in human culture, though I understand it is not the same in Vulcan culture."
Straight forward and to the point, trying to keep a rise of very human defensive emotion out of it. He knew Spock would not respond well, and it wasn't like he had any right to be so.
no subject
Wrong, perhaps, to bring her name up in this conversation, but there it was. A person in spirit to fill the space between them. He saw what had been written. The disastrous blunder of what happens when a reckless, headstrong captain rushed forward without thinking, or even learning his own communicator before attempting to use it.
Then again, it wasn't like the Enterprise had come with an safety manual before Nero's attack, either.
A beat of silence. Then another. All the while that rage coils, unwinds, tenses again. It's contained, dealt with; helped by Jim intentionally not provoking him. This was not an "emotionally compromised" situation; just another of the Captain disregarding the rules.
He sighs, heavily, pressing his fingers more firmly together.
"I do not know what our next step should be. If we even should have one."
no subject
"So we're on the same page about something, at least," Kirk leaned back into the sofa with a sigh. He licked his lips, tossing words about like dice, hoping some would come that made more sense than what could politely be called a word salad.
"I can't make that decision for you, Spock. At this point I am honestly hoping you do not outright disown me," he admitted, because god would he deserve it for this fuck up, but he seriously hoped that wasn't even an option in Spock's mind. "You saw it, when we kissed. We partially melded, right? I can't hide from you in a meld. So you know how I feel, and it's... I'll accept whatever you want of this now."
It was all he could really say, and it was the only right thing to say. No argument. No denial. He had to be the captain he was and take his punishment for his error in judgement.
Consequences.
no subject
It was something he intentionally avoided now.
"I will not disown you." He would alleviate that fear outright. "But. We should not be together, either. Not like that. You are my Captain, that will not change..."
There it was again, that crack in his voice right at the end. Just like with Jedao. He makes a sharp frustrated exhale through his nostrils, and stands suddenly. For all the spacious room provided, the cabin felt too stifling and small.
He did not want to pace, he wanted to leave, he wanted to remain, why couldn't things be simple? Spock looks over at Kirk, and he sees a clear glass door between them, locked. It hurts now as much as it did then. Only difference is when he felt the wetness in his eyes as before, the tear did not fall.
"I have been, and always shall be, your friend, Jim."
no subject
Was it a kind of insanity, having your heart broken by the same person twice? Even though you knew to expect it, that morally and ethically you knew you needed to hear the words to keep you from being the worst sort of person? There was the salve of friendship, but it could never soothe the acidic bite of seeing Spock with someone else, of knowing what could have been or perhaps not.
Without thinking he rose from the couch as well, reaching out and grasping at his fingers. Human emotion welled, unfettered before he could clamp it down - relief, hope, guilt, acceptance, yearning. Defeat. Anguish. Love. Romantic love.
“Thank you, Spock, and... and I know. I’ve always known.”
He couldn’t fathom his world without Spock, not for any longer than, say, a stint as a Warden or some R&R or minor reassignments. Knowing he still had him kept the knife in his chest from stopping his heart completely, but deep within he wailed, raged at the unfairness of a universe who once again showed him what he could not have. Emotion to strong to reign in, unconsciously squeezing his hand before seeming to remember himself and drawing back.
Perhaps he was not quite so good as Spock at hiding the wet gleam of his eyes, the slight tremble of his lip before he mastered himself.
no subject
Before Kirk pulls away, Spock had already begun to do so, with his fingers forming into the trademark goodbye that every Vulcan, and most humans, knew well.
The gesture remains in the air a few seconds after their hands are no longer joined. Nothing more to say, or that he even could say, if he knew the words. It feels like a cord has been severed between them, even as the love remained and lingered. So instead of saying anything, he nods, turns on his heel, and walks out.
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no subject
Never say no to a cup of joe with the promise of a good conversation. When do you want to meet?
no subject
no subject
I can be there. Looking forward to it.
[ And he would be there, or be walking in at 4:15. Sorry, he can still take him a moment to figure the ship out sometimes. Or maybe he just took a bit on his hair. Either way, he's here. ]
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He glances up at approaching footsteps and gets to his feet with a quick little smile.]
Did you make it back from the breach okay?
no subject
Yes, thankfully. So glad I don't have to be laid up with a bad leg. I am a terrible patient.
[ He shook his head and sat down across from Quentin, leaning back comfortably. ]
Thanks for the help, back then, by the way. What about you? Get out all right?
no subject
[A shrug.]
I'm not someone who ever gets used to breaches, is what I've learned.
no subject
It was certainly... trippy.
[ He sucked his lip for a moment. ]
Emotionally black and blue feels right. Or maybe I'm just used to that sort of thing from my previous job.
no subject
That's- pretty accurate to what I remember from our trip to Starfleet, honestly.
no subject
Well it's not always falling out of the sky. I've done it more than once, to be fair, but it's not all the time. And we're not always attacked! Just... sometimes.
no subject
Like seventy five percent of the time, I guess?
no subject
That can't exactly be easy on... anyone. Much less 'inmates'.
[ There was implied air quotes around the word, but he wasn't so sure they should call them that, truthfully. He was skeptical on the Admiral's overall legal and lawful authority, though the ship was clearly set up to reinforce the notion of the two groups - warden and inmate, and he had agreed to that in deciding to join as a warden. But, that was perhaps to deep a conversation for the moment. ]
How are you doing? Since the last one?