"I apologize that you had to observe me in this state of disarray. I had no inkling that you would visit me at such a late hour..." Pale, blood-stained buried in the palms of his hands, still shaking slightly from shock. Spock looked pitiful, a little frightened child alone in the dark that looked just as weak and lost as Jim felt. Empathy and understanding couldn't begin to describe the emotions that Jim tried to wish away, to abandon as quickly as they arrived. 'That's it. This has gone on long enough.'
"Spock," he began, unsure of what to even mention, "I'm tired. I've been wearing thin for a long, long, long time, and I just don't even want to try anymore. And that's the problem... Everyone expects me to be absolutely sure and certain about everything, to the point where it makes me want to retch every time I walk into a boardroom. I just..." He curled inward, symmetrical to his partner, but as dissimilar in every other possible variable. Now, at this very second, nothing else mattered but the shallow, listless breath of the half-Vulcan next to him.
"You want to let go of everything..." Dark eyes grazed over him somberly, taking in all and nothing less. It wasn't a question, nor was it a guess, for as much as they argued and bickered, for as much passionate rivalry and clashing interests that rose to the surface, there was a strong, passionate understanding in the quiescence they shared.
Blue eyes met with near-black, no longer the dank, desperate azure that they had been, but not truly clear either. "I'm worried about you also. You told me those were your usual dreams... I've had nightmares as soon as I was old enough to remember them, but, they were never that vicious. It bothers me that you've been having them for so long, and you still couldn't tell me." The unspoken words were as clear as the announced: Don't you trust me?
Shame and guilt coated every inch of him now, making his insides twist into unforgiving knots. "I...did not wish to alarm you, Captain, because you must have some other troubling matter, and my personal well-being can wait. I apologize for my thoughtlessness." His head bowed low, unwilling for their eyes to meet as he picked at the bandages subconsciously. Jim could feel his heart thump erratically in his chest, for this wasn't something one man could ever truly expect and prepare for.
"You don't have to. It's alright." Fair hair leaned across awkwardly, but definitely not unwelcome. Smoothing down the ripped gauze lethargically, his breathing sharp at the contact of warm skin, immediately softening, he closed his eyes.
"Can I sleep on it?" A soft smile played on his lips, lips painted with the slightest green hue, but not the least bit unattractive. It was astonishing, to say the least, such a blatant show of emotion, but right then, in the heat of things, it felt inexplicably right. Spock felt free and, for once, safe. His heart thumped in his side at a frightfully fast pace.
A soft voiced nod. "Okay, let's do that." And as he leaned back, curling inward, he couldn't help but wonder...'What's going to happen next.