All mistakes are mine. I obviously don't own Star Trek, otherwise I'd be playing with it instead of writing fanfiction. This is my first ever fanfiction, so I appreciate any constructive criticism you have to offer.
James Kirk couldn't sleep. It wasn't that unusual really. Some nights he just couldn't. Whether it be nightmares or just insomnia, he hated it. He was captian of a starship for gods sake! He couldn't afford to be sleep deprived! But he knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. With a sigh, he exited his quarters and headed for his usual haunt, the observatory. He managed to avoid people for the most part, muttering some half intelligible response to a passing ensign's inquery about why her captian was wandering the corridors at night (well, Enterprise night, but basically the only night to any of them). He stuck mainly to little used paths and kept his head down to avoid any more human (or non-human!) contact than was necessary. He only looked up after the observatory doors had hissed closed behind him. He was suprised to see that someone else was already there. He moved forward slowly, wanting to find out who it was without disturbing them. He almost jumped back when he realized who it was.
"Spock?" What was Spock, of all people, doing sitting on the observatory floor at three a.m.?
"Captian" the vulcan responded.
"Jim, Spock, it's Jim. And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be sleeping or meditating or something?" Kirk didn't mean to sound rude, but he was slightly annoyed. Spock hesitated and for a moment Jim was afraid he wouldn't get an answer.
"My dreams became... unsettling. And may I point out that you are the one who should be asleep. Vulcans do not require as much sleep as humans and therefore I can go without sleep for a night. Humans, however, require sleep every night in order to be in peak condition the next morning. If the Enterprise should encounter a crisis you cannot afford to be sleep deprived."
"I know Spock. But no fair changing the subject! You said you had a nightmare. You want to talk about it?" Jim took a seat on the floor beside his friend, sure that he wouldn't get an answer this time. He was so sure of that fact that he almost jumped when Spock started speaking.
"I saw... my mother. She was angry. She said it was my fault she was dead. She said I should have caught her. She showed me faces. Vulcans wearing expressions of pure terror as their planet crumbled around then. She said it was because of me that they were dead. She said I should have died with them. And it's true. All of it." Spock's voice was flat and void of any emotion while he recounted the dream. Jim was slightly terrified when he looked over to see tears on the vulcan's face. Spock didn't cry. It just didn't happen. Acting more on instinct than actual thought, Jim slid an arm around his friend. He felt Spock stiffen momentarily before hesitantly leaning into the contact. They sat in silence for a while before Jim noticed Spock was asleep. Smiling slightly, he eased them both down on the floor, resting Spock's head on his shoulder before drifting off himself to Spock's steady breathing.
The next morning, Leonard McCoy was pissed. Jim said he'd be here for his physical by now. He shouldn't have trusted him. Jim wouldn't come in if he were bleeding to death, much less for something as trivial as a physical. After getting Jim's location from the computer, he set out to get him in for his physical if it killed him, which, knowing Jim, was a distinct possibility. He entered the observatory ready to drag Jim to the med bay if need be. What he was not anticipating was the captian and first officer sleeping together on the floor. He smirked after getting over his initial shock and made sure to take a picture (for blackmail purposes only! NOT because he thought it was cute! He did NOT! (okay, maybe they were a little adorable, but he would NEVER admit it!)). He made sure to restrict the room to upper level security codes only before leaving. He'd just have to drag Jim in later, but he would let him sleep for now.