-Star Trek was created by Gene Roddenberry. I do not own it in any shape or form.-

Grant Me This Wish

Rated: T

Pairing: Eventual K/S

Warnings: Some violence, language, the K/S takes a while to develop.


Chapter One


Jim hated visiting the sickbay, even when he wasn't the one who was injured. But Jim decided to swallow his hatred for the sterile room—he had an officer who was suffering and he didn't want to bear it anymore.

During the entire walk from the bridge to the sickbay, Jim's mind was only on that one officer: Spock.

Now, he hadn't know Spock for too long before the Narada incident—in fact, it was only for a couple of days— but he knew enough about Vulcans in general to notice that his first officer was extremely unfocused and losing a lot of sleep. However, Jim wasn't a doctor and he didn't want to confront Spock about it. Besides, for all he knew, Spock probably still hated him for beating the Kobayashi Maru.

Jim glanced into the doors of the sickbay and scanned the area for the familiar figure. After walking into the room a little further, he spotted Bones in his office, doing some paperwork.

After walking up to him, Jim spoke up, "Hey, Bones. You got a few?"

The doctor turned around and nodded his head. "Yeah, sure. Is something the matter?"

Here goes nothing, Jim thought as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, just not with me."

Bones' eyebrow reached for his hairline. "Who is it, then?"

Jim hesitated. Maybe he should ask one of the nurses instead. "You won't laugh or anything?"

"Jim, if someone on this ship is in pain, I wanna know who it is."

Jim sighed and dropped his weight into the nearest chair. "It's about Spock."

Bones' expression hardened, his mouth forming a firm line as his eyebrows furrowed. "So, you noticed too, huh?"

Jim wasn't expecting that reply, but he decided to mask his surprise. "Yeah. I mean, I know it's not much of my business and it's probably some Vulcan thing I'll never understand, but I just don't like seeing him so… so stressed out."

"I know what you mean. He's been skipping out on meals and working overtime, and he's avoiding his check-ups."

"Wait, he is?"

Bones nodded. "Yep, every single one of them. Of course, it only proves that something is wrong with him if he's disobeying the CMO's orders. Then again, maybe he'd listen better if I wasn't the one harassing him."

"I don't think I'd have much luck, either."

"He'd listen to you better."

"You really think that?" His gaze wandered off, recalling how reticent Spock was around all his fellow crew members. He only spoke when it involved his duties aboard the ship, or when he was in the mood to argue with his captain.

"You're his captain, but most of all, you're one of the very few people on this ship he respects. Well, if you call that stuck-up attitude of his respect."

Jim was still skeptical, but if Bones believed that he had a chance, then he had nothing to lose. "What if I end up just pissing him off and he tries choking me again?"

"You have a communicator. Use it."

Jim couldn't help but smile at his friend's joke. "Thanks, Bones."

"For what? You still have to talk to Spock," he said. He then added in a growl, "And if you do figure out his problem, try to send his disagreeable ass over here for his check up. If he avoids it any longer I may just have to use a sedative on him and drag him here."

Jim smiled. "Yes, sir."


After Jim returned to the bridge, Spock stood up from the captain's chair to resume his normal station. Jim stopped him before he reached it though and said quietly in his ear, "After our shift is over, I would like to have a small word with you." The Vulcan raised an eyebrow in question, and Jim quickly added, "No, you're not in trouble or anything."

Spock acquiesced with an even quieter voice than Jim's. "Very well, Captain."

Jim took his seat.

As he sat there, he tried to figure out how to ask his question without insulting Spock or coming off as too nosy. Communicator or not, he didn't want to be asphyxiated again.

With two hours still remaining until he could hand over his duties to someone else, he had more than enough time to come up with the perfect tactic. And yet the numbers on the chronometer increased faster than he wanted and by the end of the two hours, he found himself without confidence and feeling a little nervous.

Spock already headed for the lift and Jim had to quicken his pace to catch up with him before the door closed. Once inside, he lost all the courage he had been preparing. Whether he meant it or not, Spock's calm demeanor was intimidating. "Er, Spock-"

The lift doors opened to admit two more of the crew. His first officer turned to face him. "Captain, you have not yet determined a meeting place. Already the lift has passed any levels that contain acceptable rooms."

Jim replied before any more comments could be thrown in. "Oh, my quarters." It was more of a disjointed thought than a reply, though, and Spock had to tell the computer the exact floor they desired. Jim cursed himself for lacking the balls to think properly and attempted to straighten his back out and regain his confident composure.

The two crewmen tried their best to avoid making eye contact with Spock. But they did exchange confused glances. It wasn't everyday the captain dragged his first officer to his quarters.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Jim said.

"Er, good afternoon. Sir. Mr. Spock," one of them spoke. The other one quickly chimed in with the same reply.

Jim wondered if Spock's aura was just extra intimidating today.

When the lift reached the correct floor, Jim and Spock strode out of it, in step and in silence. Jim glanced again at the Vulcan, noticing that no one, not even a being fully capable on controlling emotions, could hide the fatigue and exhaustion painted on his face.

Jim had to help him somehow.

When they reached his quarters, Spock was the first to take a seat, anticipating whatever Jim had to say. Although Jim told him that he wasn't in any trouble, he found it hard to believe that. All the other times Jim wanted to speak with him was due to his unwillingness to comply or his refusal of an order he deemed too illogical.

He definitely did not expect the concern in Jim's voice when he opened his mouth to speak.

"What's been keeping you up at night, Spock?"

Despite his attempts to be sincere, Jim could almost see the emotional barriers constructing around Spock. The line of his lips became even firmer as he attempted to cover up both his emotional and physical fatigue.

Jim tried again. "You don't have to tell me, but something is upsetting you and it's worrying me."

Spock wanted to lie. He wanted to tell him not to worry about his well being, tell him that nothing was keeping him up at night. But something in the captain's bright blue eyes told him that he could trust this human. He may have been able to help.

Spock remained silent, despite the logic he found in opening up to Jim. He knew that he would not be able to hold up his walls any longer, with the accumulated number of hours of sleep he had lost over the past four weeks. The image of his dying planet refused to give him any peace.

Jim was patient. He was surprised that Spock was even contemplating speaking to him about personal affairs. He didn't want to speak too soon. He was reminded of the time he reached his hand out too soon to pet a calf before it could take the food from his hand and it ran away in surprise.

A few more minutes later, and Spock spoke:

"When I beamed down to Vulcan to rescue the elders, it was the first time I had been on my home planet in four years." His body became rigid, trying to fight back, telling him to let go of this human need to talk about emotional burdens, but he continued. His voice trembled, almost as if it were attempting to stop him from speaking. "It was also the first time my mother had seen me in four years." The image of Amanda's smile flashed through his mind. He missed that smile almost as much as he missed her. But soon the image turned into the helpless and broken frown that overtook her face when both she and Spock noticed the rock beginning to crumble beneath her feet.

Spock paused, trying to calm his nerves, and all Jim could do was watch— watch as he began to understand the nightmares that plagued his colleague—no, his friend's dreams.

Despite everyone's belief, he knew that Spock felt emotions, perhaps more deeply than any human.

He watched helplessly, wanting to give comfort but afraid to do so.

Spock managed to block off the images of his mother's last living moments before he was able to continue speaking. "Out of those one thousand, four hundred days, I could have reserved just a fraction of that amount to visit my mother. Doing so would not have made me any less competent as a Starfleet officer." He clenched his fists. "Despite the obvious truth that we cannot predict the future, I never anticipated the death of either her or Vulcan." His eyes shone with more emotion than Jim had ever seen before. A pain that couldn't be said with just words. "She gave birth to me. She would hold me after I returned home from the scorn of the other Vulcan children. She told me countless times that she accepted my mixed heritage."

His voice was quiet, weak. It was also remorseful.

"The single woman in this universe—the only being in this universe who gave love to me when I was unwilling to accept it, is now gone. Forever."

The last word hit the silence. Jim's pained expression reflected Spock's. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing he could say. Hesitantly and gradually, he did what most humans would have done; he placed one hand atop of Spock's folded hands that were resting on the table.

Spock did not pull away. He felt some comfort through the touch.

"I doubt she was aware of my gratitude for the support she gave me as a child and as an adult. I was unable to express it."

Jim translated that as, "she probably died thinking I hated her."

"Spock, I'm sure she knew that—" he paused, afraid to use the next word. "I'm sure she knew that you loved her."

Spock did not say anything. Instead he focused on the large amount of energy he felt just from the simple skin contact with Jim's hand. How could Jim be so sure? He never knew Amanda Grayson. Yet Spock did not doubt his words, for he knew it all along, but hearing someone else say it just made the strength of those words more powerful.

He already revealed so much about what he had been feeling the past month. He decided he might as well continue with the rest. "Soon after the destruction of Vulcan, Nyota noticed my distress. My attempts to meditate failed and did not assuage my state of mind. She suggested a mind meld so that I would be able to gather tranquility from her thoughts. However, the attempt did not bring desirable results. Our minds were not completely compatible. Instead, the sorrow that she felt for my loss was only compiled with my already unordered thoughts. I find it near impossible to successfully meditate now and it is apparent my attempts to regain stability have failed."

At that point there were many words Jim wanted to say, offer comfort in any way he could. His mind shuffled through all responses and landed on one.

"Do you want to try a mind meld with me, then?"

The question was uttered before he fully understood what he had just asked.

A month and a half was not enough time to get to know a person, and for Vulcans it was definitely not a time frame where you ask such questions. Yet just the calm rush he received from touching Jim's hand made him wonder what Jim's mind could offer him. His logical side, now suffering greatly from the emotional weight, protested greatly. His human side that sought out comfort so desperately, fortunately, was the side to speak up.

Slowly he nodded under the blue gaze and slipped his hand out from under his captain's, already missing the support and Jim already missing the warmth. With that same hand, he brought it up to touch Jim's face, placing it so carefully that it seemed he was expecting to receive an electrical shock upon contact.

Jim heard the Vulcan whisper something in his native tongue and soon afterward his mind felt the presence of another soul. Then he felt all the emotions it carried with it- fear, anguish, regret. Any emotion that could suffocate a heart was present in Spock's. The pain struck Jim deep in his own heart and he had to stop tears from gathering in his eyes.

lost. i am a fool. i never said but i want to mother come back, comeback. mother i love you. i need you please whereareyou? come back please come back ineedyou.

'Your mother's in a better place now.'

it hurts. it hurts so much. make it stop make it stop. the pain is too muchithurtsithurts stop the pain….

Jim cradled the dim light and lent all the strength he had within himself.

'It's okay, Spock. You don't have to hurt anymore. I'll take away the pain for you. I'm here for you.'

An image of Amanda—

Your mother never doubted your love for her. Even now, as long as she's in your heart, she'll always know that you love her.

Perhaps it was minutes, or perhaps it was hours. Jim remained with Spock, giving him all the comfort he could offer. He wasn't backing down until he knew that Spock was better. Again he repeated his thoughts, telling Spock, reminding him that his mother never doubted his love.

Jim could feel the mind within his own quieting down.

Spock got to the point where he could order his thoughts again. The pain persisted, but he attempted to ignore it. He began exploring bits of Jim's mind, drawn in by the strength of his thoughts. He didn't intend on becoming so absorbed in it, but when he did, he was surprised.

Our mind… they are completely compatible.

Jim nearly gasped when Spock abruptly pulled his hand away and severed the meld. He felt dizzy for a few seconds until he could fully focus on the face before him. Spock's deep brown eyes stared at him with surprise.

Spock opened his mouth to say something, but found that he was completely without words.

Was this real? Was Jim's mind truly the match to his own?

It was practically a myth. Any Vulcan who found another individual whose mind was completely compatible with his had found more than a bond mate. They found, in the most literal sense, a soul mate.

Spock stood up quickly, surprising Jim in the process. "Thank you for your assistance. I believe I am able to meditate properly now."

"Oh, uh, no problem I guess." Jim felt a cold presence— rather, lack of presence— in his mind. He stood up, trying to find more words to say. He could sense that Spock was scared now and no longer surprised. But scared of what? What made him slip on his mask so quickly?

"I will return to my room, if I am now excused."

"Uh, yeah. Go ahead."

Spock gave a small nod then left the room.

Jim remained standing in the same spot, his eyes stuck on the door where he last had a glimpse of Spock.

The silence in his mind become more prominent as he subconsciously searched for the soul that departed so quickly from his own. The efforts were useless and his thoughts echoed off the naked walls of his skull, bringing to him a new sense of loneliness.

It brought a cold shiver up his spine.