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Description
Title: Inner gift
Characters: James Kirk, Spock, Leonard McCoy
Rating: K+
Word Count: 2386
Warnings: Spoilers for The paradise syndrome
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor will I in the near future o_O

******************************************************************************************

"Each kiss... is as the first…"

And she was gone.

It had seemed a lifetime to him until McCoy returned into the tent and finally forced him far from where she lay, where she had joyfully loved him, where she wasn't anymore. He didn't even oppose much resistance, as he felt drained of all the life that had been building on him just some hours ago.

He recognized his good doctor friend who was worryingly staring at him, but he didn't care. He even recognized the strange alien creature he'd seen in his dreams, who had been gazing at his address with something like concern, but he even didn't care. He didn't care he was still wearing those weird native clothes which carried the hints of his brief, happy life on the planet.

All he cared, was the motionless figure of the beautiful woman, which had been lying in his arms until a few moments ago, whose heath hadn't left his hands yet, and wouldn't probably do.

He couldn't forget the love that the woman had given him since the first time they'd met, the love which had blessed him with a joy he couldn't believe to feel, the love he still felt.

Not willing to breakdown in front of the crew, he tried to hold on until he'd be alone, in the peace of his quarters. He realized he couldn't. As he gave a last goodbye to his family, is features, once so lively and bright, held traces no more of his inner energy.

******

He was in his quarters. He didn't know how he'd made it through all the crewmembers who greeted and saluted him, who patted him in the back saying they'd never thought to see him again. It had probably been McCoy, who had cleared the path in order to give the captain a chance to get to his own room, delaying any medical exams.

Yet now, nothing could prevent the pain which overwhelmed him. He remembered how he had to promise his wife a happy and long life, while keeping a composed smile, even if within, his world was already crumpling down. He remembered the last living moments of his beloved Miramanee, who carried her child. Their child. He would never know if it had been a boy or a girl. He remembered the day she'd given the news, remembered the bliss that had overflowed into his heart, something far better than he'd ever experienced. The dream of a life he would've never dared to hope or thought to deserve, a life that he felt gone, along with the other two.

But it wasn't him she had loved. She had loved Kirok, the God-like creature, the one without memory, who could give himself to her and care nothing else. No she hadn't loved James Kirk, as James Kirk couldn't love. To feel wasn't permitted to the captain of the Enterprise, love was not meant to touch him. Nobody should ever love him. He should die alone.

But he did love, and was loved in return. For two months he hadn't felt that burden weigh on his shoulders. Why was it so wrong trying to be happy? Why did the destiny keep playing its cruel tricks on him?
Now all was gone, again...

These thoughts haunted his mind as he rolled in bed restlessly, unable to sleep.

He had never felt so alone.

******

Spock had been running the ship for some time, sitting in the central chair, because Jim had asked him to. He hadn't liked that edge on Kirk's voice, as the tone didn't even resemble the usual one, but wanted to respect his silence as well. The memory of their last mind meld, when he was almost overwhelmed by the deep human feelings flowing in his mind, he reasoned, troubled him just rationally.

Yet, Jim hadn't come out from his solitude in more than forty hours, and Spock, apprehension growing in his logical mind, refused to abandon him any longer. Leonard McCoy, unusually, agreed at once.

Thus they found him in the dark of his room, curled up in bed, still wearing the local clothes they had seen on the planet. His figure was so still and silent he could have been dead, except for the slightest sob which shook his strong shoulders.

It was somehow difficult for them to glance in his direction. They weren't used to that captain, as their Jim shone bright with life and joy. His unshakeable optimism had been often all they could count on, and it was just hard to realize it wasn't there anymore.

Jim hadn't heard the door swishing open. He wasn't aware they were there. McCoy froze, not too willing to catch the captain while his defenses were so low. Spock felt the same, so they agreed the doctor would go first, as he had still to take care of eventual injuries. Spock backed cautiously out of the door.

"Jim" tried McCoy, with his most warm and caring southern drawl.

There was a sudden shift in the stillness of the man, but no answer came from the figure.

"Jim, please, answer me", continued the doctor more hesitant, "How do you feel?"

This time, Jim did move, and turned slowly toward the doctor. His face was unnaturally pale, he'd not shaven at all and his black-shaded eyes glowed vivid red. He attempted in vain to wipe away the wet on his face.

"Bones" Kirk said quietly with hoarse voice, "please leave me alone. Unless there is an emergency" he added, his tone slightly louder as his attention grew.

"No, Jim, there isn't. The ship is under Spock's command, as you ordered". Due to Jim's attitude, his approach was getting more professional. "Nonetheless, you still need some physical on you".

"I'm quite fine, Bones, there's nothing you can do for me now". Jim dismissed him without a look.

"You sure? I was wondering why a starship cap'n who's feeling quite fine hasn't been shaving in two days, shows unmistakable signs of not-sleeping and doesn't even get any food". McCoy was trying to shake Jim, hoping he would work off his pain. This, however, was not working. Kirk was desperately trying to get rid of his friend until he'd felt ready to confront him.

"That is my business, Bones, not yours", he answered, dry.

"It is my business as well if you try to kill yourself! She wouldn't want you to give in, you know that" McCoy replied, at once almost furious.

"What I know, is that hadn't I lost my memory, she would still be alive". Saying that loud made his heart burn with excruciating pain. His voice faltered, and he stopped abruptly, his hazel eyes turning emerald as they filled with tears once again. How could he ever face this?

"Now leave me".

Bones hesitated, rage and sympathy fighting in his mind. Only his affection for Jim kept him from stepping on the way and ordering immediate report to sickbay. Instead he stared at him, sadness plain detectable in his muttering.

"I'm trying to help you, Jim. Please let me help you". There was no further answer.

He left without other words.

Spock raised an eyebrow as he watched the doctor head for the sickbay, defeat clearly showing in his looks. Wish you better luck with your logic, he had told him nervous.

******

Jim regretted pushing McCoy away. He didn't even know how to deal with his own grief, let out explaining it to someone else. But he was feeling guilty, as he had hurt his friend's feelings, and something told him Bones could've really made him feel better.

The sound of the buzzer startled him. He answered reluctantly.

"Spock here, captain. Please let me in". His voice was flawlessly kind, but – as Jim knew the Vulcan too well – he could detect some sort of fondness in his tone.

Maybe, after all, he wasn't alone.

Kirk cleared his throat and tried to regain composure while he accorded the first officer permission to come. Spock made a few steps in order to spot the captain in the weak light.

"McCoy sent you, didn't he?" Jim asked deadpan.

"No" Spock answered firmly, "he didn't have to".

"Then why are you here?" Jim inquired, trying to sound determined and confident.

Spock lingered a bit longer, not wanting the captain to back out until he'd spoken to him. Jim didn't take advantage of the silence, so Spock chose the words carefully.

"I'd like to talk about your wife".

Jim glanced at Spock full of gratitude. Spock had been simple and direct, and that made easier for him to face the matter. Plus, the idea that somebody else knew about his early life on the planet, made it seem somehow more real. Wife. That word had stricken him like the first time. After all, it hadn't been just a beautiful dream.

"I don't want to talk about her. Not yet. It's... too fresh. I just need some time..." he let out an involuntary shudder, "... to reflect".

"Jim" started Spock, using his first name as he always did to reach him. "I have had a mind meld with you. I do know how much you cared for your wife. Believe me when I say that I understand how you are feeling".

Jim appreciated how Spock was exposing himself by talking like that, so he stood up and looked closely at his friend, maintaining his tone as steady as possible. He couldn't keep that for himself any longer.

"I loved her, Spock. Loved her. She was bearing our child. I really believed I could be free and happy with her. And I was... like I've never been. Like I'll never be". He swallowed. "I...should have known".

He couldn't go any further. His voice betrayed him again, while he fell back on the bed and hid his eyes with the right hand. Spock would have never admitted it, but the vision caused him a surge of sadness almost unbearable. He reached out for Kirk's shoulders, held them tight. Jim forced himself up to look into Spock's eyes.

"Jim, it is illogical even thinking for a moment that you did not deserve so much love. It was an accident. As a human being, it was your right to love her at the time, as it is now".

Kirk shook his head.

"I'm the captain, I mustn't be vulnerable in front of the crew" he exclaimed frantically, "I shouldn't permit any weakness to..."

But Spock interrupted him.

"Do you know why the crew loves you, while it will never love me?"

Jim stopped dead, as the Vulcan's tone admitted no interruptions.

"They love you because of your ability to feel. They do not need a cold, detached captain. They need to believe that you can understand them. They need to believe you care". There was a hint of passion in his logical speech.

"You do have to master your weaknesses, but the affection you have always, gratuitously given, has never been wrong, nor wasted. In fact, it makes of you an outstanding leader".

Jim was silent. He then understood. It was how it had to be. His bright green eyes shone in a sea of sadness, but the lively sparkle which used to enlighten them was there again. Spock nodded his satisfaction, without letting him go.

"Would you mind now, captain, if I called doctor McCoy for your physical?"

******

Leonard McCoy was fortuitously hanging out near the captain's quarters with his medical equipment, when Spock came out. Avoiding the collision, Spock offered full way to the doctor.

"It was about time, I'd say" voiced Bones grumpily, but he gave Kirk a fond glimpse.

Jim was still silent, his grief was still there, but now he knew he could handle it. Not alone, that was for sure.

The doctor asked him to wear off his native clothes. He took off his shirt, laying it carefully on the bed. Bones was already complaining about the several neglected bruises and injuries which kept showing on Jim's body, while Spock was using the intercom to get some food for the captain.

It was then, that he saw it.

He had totally forgotten of that object, now entirely visible on his bare chest. That necklace was Miramanee's gift for their marriage, and had been close to his heart since then. It was not as heavy as the tribe one, it was a simple, small star, whose existence he alone should have ever known of. He took it gently with one hand, careful not to let it fall.

Spock glanced curiously at the necklace, but made no comment. McCoy, out of genuine interest, cast a generous glare toward the captain.

"She gave it to you, didn't she?" He asked, his tone getting much softer.

Jim nodded, suddenly touched by the memories that the little star had brought to his mind. They were all happy ones, which he would always be grateful for. His throat tightened with emotion and love.

McCoy looked at him thoughtfully, then spoke.

"Jim, I'm... very sorry". He fought to find the adequate words. "I shouldn't have pushed you that way. I of all should have known better..."

Jim stopped him kindly with a gesture of the hand.

"It's okay, Bones. I know why you did it. You were right, and I...", he reflected, "... I am still the captain".

He glanced at both of his friends, the tiniest bit of a smile finally creasing his dried lips.

It was enough for them. Time would do the rest, they thought, as the doctor threw out a hypospray and recommended Jim a good old lie-down before everything else.

******

He was fast asleep.

His weary limbs finally at something close to peace.

Yet, his thoughts were still reeling on the earlier discovery, which had given new course to his will. He recalled McCoy's words: that star would remind him to go on. His dream of a quiet, simple life would wait.

He shifted lightly in bed, and - as he dreamed of the happiest moments he had spent with his wife - he did realize: so long as the little star shone in his chest, so long would do his beloved Miramanee, whether she was with him or not, and that was all he needed to know.

Description
Title: Inner gift
Characters: James Kirk, Spock, Leonard McCoy
Rating: K+
Word Count: 2386
Warnings: Spoilers for The paradise syndrome
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor will I in the near future o_O

******************************************************************************************

"Each kiss... is as the first…"

And she was gone.

It had seemed a lifetime to him until McCoy returned into the tent and finally forced him far from where she lay, where she had joyfully loved him, where she wasn't anymore. He didn't even oppose much resistance, as he felt drained of all the life that had been building on him just some hours ago.

He recognized his good doctor friend who was worryingly staring at him, but he didn't care. He even recognized the strange alien creature he'd seen in his dreams, who had been gazing at his address with something like concern, but he even didn't care. He didn't care he was still wearing those weird native clothes which carried the hints of his brief, happy life on the planet.

All he cared, was the motionless figure of the beautiful woman, which had been lying in his arms until a few moments ago, whose heath hadn't left his hands yet, and wouldn't probably do.

He couldn't forget the love that the woman had given him since the first time they'd met, the love which had blessed him with a joy he couldn't believe to feel, the love he still felt.

Not willing to breakdown in front of the crew, he tried to hold on until he'd be alone, in the peace of his quarters. He realized he couldn't. As he gave a last goodbye to his family, is features, once so lively and bright, held traces no more of his inner energy.

******

He was in his quarters. He didn't know how he'd made it through all the crewmembers who greeted and saluted him, who patted him in the back saying they'd never thought to see him again. It had probably been McCoy, who had cleared the path in order to give the captain a chance to get to his own room, delaying any medical exams.

Yet now, nothing could prevent the pain which overwhelmed him. He remembered how he had to promise his wife a happy and long life, while keeping a composed smile, even if within, his world was already crumpling down. He remembered the last living moments of his beloved Miramanee, who carried her child. Their child. He would never know if it had been a boy or a girl. He remembered the day she'd given the news, remembered the bliss that had overflowed into his heart, something far better than he'd ever experienced. The dream of a life he would've never dared to hope or thought to deserve, a life that he felt gone, along with the other two.

But it wasn't him she had loved. She had loved Kirok, the God-like creature, the one without memory, who could give himself to her and care nothing else. No she hadn't loved James Kirk, as James Kirk couldn't love. To feel wasn't permitted to the captain of the Enterprise, love was not meant to touch him. Nobody should ever love him. He should die alone.

But he did love, and was loved in return. For two months he hadn't felt that burden weigh on his shoulders. Why was it so wrong trying to be happy? Why did the destiny keep playing its cruel tricks on him?
Now all was gone, again...

These thoughts haunted his mind as he rolled in bed restlessly, unable to sleep.

He had never felt so alone.

******

Spock had been running the ship for some time, sitting in the central chair, because Jim had asked him to. He hadn't liked that edge on Kirk's voice, as the tone didn't even resemble the usual one, but wanted to respect his silence as well. The memory of their last mind meld, when he was almost overwhelmed by the deep human feelings flowing in his mind, he reasoned, troubled him just rationally.

Yet, Jim hadn't come out from his solitude in more than forty hours, and Spock, apprehension growing in his logical mind, refused to abandon him any longer. Leonard McCoy, unusually, agreed at once.

Thus they found him in the dark of his room, curled up in bed, still wearing the local clothes they had seen on the planet. His figure was so still and silent he could have been dead, except for the slightest sob which shook his strong shoulders.

It was somehow difficult for them to glance in his direction. They weren't used to that captain, as their Jim shone bright with life and joy. His unshakeable optimism had been often all they could count on, and it was just hard to realize it wasn't there anymore.

Jim hadn't heard the door swishing open. He wasn't aware they were there. McCoy froze, not too willing to catch the captain while his defenses were so low. Spock felt the same, so they agreed the doctor would go first, as he had still to take care of eventual injuries. Spock backed cautiously out of the door.

"Jim" tried McCoy, with his most warm and caring southern drawl.

There was a sudden shift in the stillness of the man, but no answer came from the figure.

"Jim, please, answer me", continued the doctor more hesitant, "How do you feel?"

This time, Jim did move, and turned slowly toward the doctor. His face was unnaturally pale, he'd not shaven at all and his black-shaded eyes glowed vivid red. He attempted in vain to wipe away the wet on his face.

"Bones" Kirk said quietly with hoarse voice, "please leave me alone. Unless there is an emergency" he added, his tone slightly louder as his attention grew.

"No, Jim, there isn't. The ship is under Spock's command, as you ordered". Due to Jim's attitude, his approach was getting more professional. "Nonetheless, you still need some physical on you".

"I'm quite fine, Bones, there's nothing you can do for me now". Jim dismissed him without a look.

"You sure? I was wondering why a starship cap'n who's feeling quite fine hasn't been shaving in two days, shows unmistakable signs of not-sleeping and doesn't even get any food". McCoy was trying to shake Jim, hoping he would work off his pain. This, however, was not working. Kirk was desperately trying to get rid of his friend until he'd felt ready to confront him.

"That is my business, Bones, not yours", he answered, dry.

"It is my business as well if you try to kill yourself! She wouldn't want you to give in, you know that" McCoy replied, at once almost furious.

"What I know, is that hadn't I lost my memory, she would still be alive". Saying that loud made his heart burn with excruciating pain. His voice faltered, and he stopped abruptly, his hazel eyes turning emerald as they filled with tears once again. How could he ever face this?

"Now leave me".

Bones hesitated, rage and sympathy fighting in his mind. Only his affection for Jim kept him from stepping on the way and ordering immediate report to sickbay. Instead he stared at him, sadness plain detectable in his muttering.

"I'm trying to help you, Jim. Please let me help you". There was no further answer.

He left without other words.

Spock raised an eyebrow as he watched the doctor head for the sickbay, defeat clearly showing in his looks. Wish you better luck with your logic, he had told him nervous.

******

Jim regretted pushing McCoy away. He didn't even know how to deal with his own grief, let out explaining it to someone else. But he was feeling guilty, as he had hurt his friend's feelings, and something told him Bones could've really made him feel better.

The sound of the buzzer startled him. He answered reluctantly.

"Spock here, captain. Please let me in". His voice was flawlessly kind, but – as Jim knew the Vulcan too well – he could detect some sort of fondness in his tone.

Maybe, after all, he wasn't alone.

Kirk cleared his throat and tried to regain composure while he accorded the first officer permission to come. Spock made a few steps in order to spot the captain in the weak light.

"McCoy sent you, didn't he?" Jim asked deadpan.

"No" Spock answered firmly, "he didn't have to".

"Then why are you here?" Jim inquired, trying to sound determined and confident.

Spock lingered a bit longer, not wanting the captain to back out until he'd spoken to him. Jim didn't take advantage of the silence, so Spock chose the words carefully.

"I'd like to talk about your wife".

Jim glanced at Spock full of gratitude. Spock had been simple and direct, and that made easier for him to face the matter. Plus, the idea that somebody else knew about his early life on the planet, made it seem somehow more real. Wife. That word had stricken him like the first time. After all, it hadn't been just a beautiful dream.

"I don't want to talk about her. Not yet. It's... too fresh. I just need some time..." he let out an involuntary shudder, "... to reflect".

"Jim" started Spock, using his first name as he always did to reach him. "I have had a mind meld with you. I do know how much you cared for your wife. Believe me when I say that I understand how you are feeling".

Jim appreciated how Spock was exposing himself by talking like that, so he stood up and looked closely at his friend, maintaining his tone as steady as possible. He couldn't keep that for himself any longer.

"I loved her, Spock. Loved her. She was bearing our child. I really believed I could be free and happy with her. And I was... like I've never been. Like I'll never be". He swallowed. "I...should have known".

He couldn't go any further. His voice betrayed him again, while he fell back on the bed and hid his eyes with the right hand. Spock would have never admitted it, but the vision caused him a surge of sadness almost unbearable. He reached out for Kirk's shoulders, held them tight. Jim forced himself up to look into Spock's eyes.

"Jim, it is illogical even thinking for a moment that you did not deserve so much love. It was an accident. As a human being, it was your right to love her at the time, as it is now".

Kirk shook his head.

"I'm the captain, I mustn't be vulnerable in front of the crew" he exclaimed frantically, "I shouldn't permit any weakness to..."

But Spock interrupted him.

"Do you know why the crew loves you, while it will never love me?"

Jim stopped dead, as the Vulcan's tone admitted no interruptions.

"They love you because of your ability to feel. They do not need a cold, detached captain. They need to believe that you can understand them. They need to believe you care". There was a hint of passion in his logical speech.

"You do have to master your weaknesses, but the affection you have always, gratuitously given, has never been wrong, nor wasted. In fact, it makes of you an outstanding leader".

Jim was silent. He then understood. It was how it had to be. His bright green eyes shone in a sea of sadness, but the lively sparkle which used to enlighten them was there again. Spock nodded his satisfaction, without letting him go.

"Would you mind now, captain, if I called doctor McCoy for your physical?"

******

Leonard McCoy was fortuitously hanging out near the captain's quarters with his medical equipment, when Spock came out. Avoiding the collision, Spock offered full way to the doctor.

"It was about time, I'd say" voiced Bones grumpily, but he gave Kirk a fond glimpse.

Jim was still silent, his grief was still there, but now he knew he could handle it. Not alone, that was for sure.

The doctor asked him to wear off his native clothes. He took off his shirt, laying it carefully on the bed. Bones was already complaining about the several neglected bruises and injuries which kept showing on Jim's body, while Spock was using the intercom to get some food for the captain.

It was then, that he saw it.

He had totally forgotten of that object, now entirely visible on his bare chest. That necklace was Miramanee's gift for their marriage, and had been close to his heart since then. It was not as heavy as the tribe one, it was a simple, small star, whose existence he alone should have ever known of. He took it gently with one hand, careful not to let it fall.

Spock glanced curiously at the necklace, but made no comment. McCoy, out of genuine interest, cast a generous glare toward the captain.

"She gave it to you, didn't she?" He asked, his tone getting much softer.

Jim nodded, suddenly touched by the memories that the little star had brought to his mind. They were all happy ones, which he would always be grateful for. His throat tightened with emotion and love.

McCoy looked at him thoughtfully, then spoke.

"Jim, I'm... very sorry". He fought to find the adequate words. "I shouldn't have pushed you that way. I of all should have known better..."

Jim stopped him kindly with a gesture of the hand.

"It's okay, Bones. I know why you did it. You were right, and I...", he reflected, "... I am still the captain".

He glanced at both of his friends, the tiniest bit of a smile finally creasing his dried lips.

It was enough for them. Time would do the rest, they thought, as the doctor threw out a hypospray and recommended Jim a good old lie-down before everything else.

******

He was fast asleep.

His weary limbs finally at something close to peace.

Yet, his thoughts were still reeling on the earlier discovery, which had given new course to his will. He recalled McCoy's words: that star would remind him to go on. His dream of a quiet, simple life would wait.

He shifted lightly in bed, and - as he dreamed of the happiest moments he had spent with his wife - he did realize: so long as the little star shone in his chest, so long would do his beloved Miramanee, whether she was with him or not, and that was all he needed to know.