[ Sorry for the absence! I promise I will get to all my replies soon! Just been a shade busy with my other RP accounts. ]

With the extra hours to get sober, Spock hoped that it would be enough that Jim would be prepared for the launch in the afternoon. By the time he was due on bridge, he would have had ten hours to get back to where Spock knew he ought to be. And while Spock knew he should report Jim (perhaps his instincts were even telling him to do it as soon as possible), he couldn't quite bring himself to. After all, humans were delicate creatures, and could be affected emotionally by the smallest of occurrences.

Jim had nearly seen his crew killed, and had then passed over the threshold of death himself. That by itself would have been enough to undo most less stout human beings. Even Spock could see that it was taking its toll on Jim more than he was letting on. Or perhaps his drunken state was as much letting on as asking for assistance.

Stepping away from Jim, Spock regarded him in silence. Twice now in recent memory Jim had thanked him, and Spock was becoming almost spoiled on it. Jim thanked no one if he could help it, and depended only on himself to get things done. Not that he didn't also trust his crew, but Jim would rather have taken the burden onto himself than to thrust it onto anyone else.

So instead of draw attention to it, Spock nodded, and put his hands behind his back again.

"Certainly, Captain," he said, and he turned back towards the door, retrieving his PADD off of the table. Tucking it under his arm, Spock turned back to Jim, and observed him from further away. "Your shuttle leaves at twelve-hundred."

Still drinking over the past | Spock & Kirk

"That very seriously depends upon what you plan on doing on board this ship," Spock said, still cool as he stood up from the floor, and straightened his shirt.

“Will I? I am sure I can handle you… I know the ship can’t read my life signs. I can slip away and none of you will be able to find me.” he smiled. “Do you think I should be scared of something like you?”

Spock was mostly silent, pressing his over-warm lips to the curve of her neck. Her little grunts, moans, and pleas spurred him on, encouragement that it felt good. It was always a concern, with his strength being what it was, that he would harm her during the act.

But when her moans sounded like that it was impossible to mistake them for anything but pleasure. Warmth gathered all over him, moreso than usual, and his hips matched her rhythmic thrusts, answering whatever pace she found pleasurable.

His silence was pinpointed only by breaths let out against her ear and neck.

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[ I am hitting the hay because 4:30 in the morning, whaaat? I know that I owe lastnameebasis and perilous-lust. If I owe you/missed you/haven't replied yet, send me a poke with the link, and I will get to it tomorrow! Thank you loves! <33 ]

While Spock tried to be glad that Kirk seemed genuinely concerned about his job when he attempted to scramble from the floor, spouting human curses. Watching him might have been comical, except that it wasn't funny at all to Spock. It was almost painful. Like watching a child try to walk, only to fall down and hurt themselves. Spock wanted to help, instinctively, but he remained where he was, straight, and stoic, with his hands behind his back.

Taking a breath, Spock lowered his eyes to his feet briefly, as if letting Jim stumble around was punishment for still being drunk at this hour. But there was only so much even Spock could force Jim to take.

Leveling his gaze again, Spock tilted his head, and moved close enough to close a hand around Jim's upper arm. His strength was enough to give the captain something sturdy to pull himself up on. Spock's only goal was to assist him in getting to his own feet, although he doubted Jim's sturdiness once he let go.

"It is fortunate, then, that I volunteered to take on the tedious task of assisting in the inspection, as is occasionally customary for the first officer when the captain is otherwise indisposed," he said matter-of-factly. "Usually for more important matters, but I believe it would be prudent to maintain the circumstances between you and I. As of oh-eight-hundred last night, you were incapable of making the inspection, and extended your apologies. I accepted the responsibility gladly. You will be forced, however, to report to the bridge at thirteen-hundred for the formal launch."

Spock released Kirk's upper arm when he had pulled him to his feet.

"I hope that purchasing you that time will not become my mistake," he said sharply.

Still drinking over the past | Spock & Kirk

When McCoy sent a message to Spock to let him know that Jim was awake in his quarters, Nyota had just left Spock's. She had cried. Spock had not. Perhaps that was the way of things. Spock did not know how his father or mother had managed to make things work together, but they had been so flawless that Spock had been certain things could only be that way for he and Nyota, as well.

It was not so. He supposed that implosion between them had been inevitable. Still, over something like Jim Kirk, he never would have imagined.

Straightening his shirt, and taking several deep breaths, Spock made his way down to the captain's quarters. It wasn't locked, so he didn't bother buzzing. He let himself into the dark room, where he instantaneously saw almost one hundred percent better. His eyes were far more suited to darkness, than light.

The doors slid closed behind him, and Spock approached the bedroom. The sliding door was already pushed aside, and Spock stood just outside, looking into the dark room where he could see Jim in his bed, against the wall.

"How are you feeling, captain?" he asked.

From Can to Can't // illogicalassumptions

Jim sat upright in his own bed and he rubbed his forehead gingerly, wondering if his headache would ever go away. He looked over at his bedside table and almost felt a throb of pain in his chest when he didn’t see a glass of water and a pill sitting beside him for when he woke up. Spock had been so diligent in taking care of him when he was drunk that he didn’t know how to react when he saw that it wasn’t going to happen anymore. 

‘Great, so now you’re going to be discharged,’ Jim thought to himself as he scooted himself back on the bed to lean up against the wall behind him in a sitting position. He planted his hands over his face and inhaled deeply. He exhaled all of the air in his lungs before inhaling another long breath and he kept doing this for the longest time in an attempt to calm his nerves and to hopefully make his head feel a little better and less foggy. 

Spock was all he could think about other than the report he most certainly had filed against him. The disappointment in the Vulcan’s eyes was enough to last Jim a lifetime and, if he was discharged, it probably would. He wouldn’t see Spock for five years and by then he would have surely forgotten about Jim, either intentionally or not, because it would have been better for Spock to do so. Suddenly, Jim felt very alone in his dark room by himself. He hadn’t felt so alone since he was just a child trying to battle for his mother’s attention between his stepfather and himself. 

“God, I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim said with his hands over his face, wishing he could man up and apologize to everyone on the bridge for being such an ass while he was drunk.

The sound of Jim retching must have alerted someone in med bay, a few doors down, because two nurses and Doctor McCoy came out into the hall to see what was going on. Spock looked up, and they moved as if they were going to come down and help Jim to his feet. But Spock made a motion to them to go back to med bay. For now, Spock didn't think Jim would want anyone to see him as he was.

McCoy eyeballed him briefly, before returning with the two nurses, and Spock found himself closing his eyes. He chanted a mantra, he centered his mind, and when he opened his eyes again, he still saw his crumpled captain seated on the floor at his feet. What alcohol did to Jim wasn't fair. To Jim or to his crew. Spock had never seen Jim like this. Quite so undone. Only once had Jim been truly honest about anything, without attempting to draw something out of Spock.

I'm scared, Spock. Help me not to be.

Even in the silence, Spock could hear these words as if they were forever imprinted in his ears. He could hear them even in the words Jim spoke now. As if he were asking Spock to make things better for him. Help him, because he couldn't help himself. And wasn't that Spock's function? Didn't he always try and make certain that Jim made the correct decision?

But he was lost, now. He didn't know what to say to Jim to make things better.

Taking a breath, Spock bent, and pulled Jim up, more gently this time, as he exhaled heavily. He began to walk Jim down to med bay.

"You are intoxicated," he said. "For now, that is all that is wrong with you." Spock paused outside medical, and looked at Jim. "Whatever else there is, we will discuss it when you are no longer...not yourself."

The doors slid open, and McCoy seemed to be waiting.

"Over-indulgence," was all Spock said, and McCoy nodded and brought Jim into the med lab. Spock watched from behind the doors for a long moment before he went back to the bridge.

From Can to Can't // illogicalassumptions

Jim had already said all he could think of to make the Vulcan angry and nothing was working. He didn’t even know why he wanted to inflict some kind of emotional response from Spock, but he did. He wanted to make Spock angry, make him mad enough to yell or scream or push Jim around. He wanted Spock to hate him just like he hated himself when he was like this. He turned his head away from Spock and to the floor where he chewed on his cheek in frustration, his heart pounding in his chest and his cheeks burning because he didn’t even understand why he was feeling the way he felt. 

Why had he been so emotional? Ever since the ordeal with Khan, ever since he nearly died, he had felt this sense of emptiness. He had his crew and he even managed to do everything in his power to save them, sacrificing himself for them so they would be safe and happy. Jim thought so hard about why he felt the way he did that his head began to ache with the complications of it all. He had been drinking so much his head was swirling, his body was wavering, and suddenly Jim couldn’t hold his stomach at bay any longer. 

Jim wheeled around and put his hands on the wall of the ship, retching and expelling alcohol and bile from his mouth and nose. His eyes watered from the burning sensation he felt in his sinuses and he wiped his mouth clean with his shirt sleeve. As offensive as it was, Jim had no food in his stomach to make it any worse as he hadn’t eaten much in the last few weeks to really build anything up in his stomach. He ate when he felt so hungry that his entire body ached down into his bones and never any other time. 

Jim put his back against the opposite wall and slid down onto the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him and Spock was only visible in the more blurry part of his vision. 

Then he remembered why he had done the things he did before. These people were his friends and he loved them. Spock was his friend and he loved him too. He loved him on a very deep and almost intangible level that he couldn’t begin to touch or describe with words, but he wished he could. He wanted to see a reaction out of Spock that wasn’t inflicted by Jim’s death. He had seen Spock cry and that was right before Jim had slipped into the darkness that was death. He didn’t remember anything after that, but the vision of Spock shedding tears over him and his overwhelming desire to touch Spock’s hand before he died had infiltrated his memories and dreams ever since that moment. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jim admitted with tears flowing down his cheeks. He was clearly on the depressed end of the drunken rollercoaster. 

Spock's spine was so straight and stiff that it ached. Jim was saying what he knew would harm or anger Spock. He knew that he had to remain calm. It was difficult, with his captain smelling of whiskey and lies. Spock was angry, and he was hurt. He was confused, as well. How could Jim think that he wanted to usurp the chair from him? Spock believed that Jim was capable, and good. That he was the best captain for this ship.

As the doors to the lift opened, Spock pulled Jim out and down the hall towards the med bay. He was silent as their boots tapped softly against the floor.

"In fact, Lieutenant Uhura was correct," he said, his jaw taut. "For the safety of this ship and her crew, I will formally submit the suggestion that the Enterprise be taken away from you. My acquiring or not acquiring it is irrelevant." Spock stopped, and turned to look at Jim.

"I am concerned for the wellbeing of this crew," he said, and his voice was cool, but earnest. "I am concerned for your wellbeing, Jim."

From Can to Can't // illogicalassumptions

“Fine. I’ll go to sleep and everything will be fine when I get up. It’s not a big deal, Spock,” Jim said, his eyes bruised from a lack of sleep and his posture wavering from the alcohol in his blood. He placed a hand on the wall of the lift to keep himself stable while he spoke. 

“You wouldn’t report me. I’m your friend, Spock. I’d be kicked off of the ship and put back in the Academy. Unless you’re doing it so you can be the captain of the ship,” Kirk said accusingly while narrowing his eyes and nearly falling backwards. He was clearly unstable, physically and emotionally, and calling Spock out on being a traitor wasn’t something he would have ever done with all of his faculties. 

“Or is this because your girlfriend doesn’t think I’m a good friend anymore and she wants you to get rid of me? She told me alllllllllllllllll about how she felt about me, earlier,” Kirk said, his words slurring together when he made a wild gesture with his arm to show just how much Uhura had said to him.

“Yeah, she said I’m a terrible friend and that I take advantage of you. I don’t deserve to be captain and you should be the one leading the ship and not me. That’s just great. I make a couple of mistakes and everyone wants me off of the ship because Kirk can’t handle being responsible,” he said, beginning to feel his stomach churn because his body was trying to revolt. 

Spock tilted his head.

"I would be ill-advised to let a hostile invader know that the captain was not on the ship," he said evenly. "For now, I am acting captain. Captain Kirk should return shortly."

Glancing at one of the security officers, Spock nodded to one of them.

"Show Mister Kennedy to the ensign wing quarters," he said. "Find him somewhere to stay, and post an officer outside until I speak with the captain." He glanced at Leon. "Routine precautions."

Shifting, Spock turned, and headed back towards the hall, without glancing over his shoulder.

Leon looked around the containment pod.  He made his way back over to the bed and sat down on it.  He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do once the ship docked.  Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he’d do now.  The only thing he knew for sure, was that he wanted to find out what had happened to Helena, Chris, Claire and Ada.  Also, he wanted to know what had transpired since the Tall Oaks incident in 2013.

Leon listened to the other man as he spoke.  He watched as the other man exited the containment pod, and picked up Leon’s belongings.  Leon listened to the other man explain that it would be a few weeks before the ship would dock.  Once the ship docked, Leon would be able to reinstate himself as a citizen and find out what to do next.

Leon gratefully took his wallet and other items.  “Thanks.” Leon replied, quietly.  Opening his wallet, he looked at the various items inside his wallet.  His ID card was still there and intact.  It also contained his bank card, credit card, and what little money he’d had on him.  He doubted the cards and the money would be of much use now.  As he shifted through the wallet, a few pictures fell out of the wallet.  Picking up the pictures, Leon smiled fondly at the pictures he had of his various friends.  There were pictures of Chris, Claire, Sherry, Jake, Helena, Ingrid, Ada and all of the other various friends he’d had throughout the years.  He noticed something sticking out of the back of his wallet and pulled out.  It was a crumpled piece of paper with coordinates on it.  He remembered Ada giving this paper to him, as a means of giving him directions to a village.

“Captain?” Leon asked, confused.  “I thought you said you were the captain.” Leon was pretty confused now, but decided to shrug off that mistake.  “I appreciate it.  Thank you.” Leon smiled, gratefully.

idontbelieveinnowinscenarios: Kirk was feeling uncharacteristically hostile after being verbally assaulted by Uhura and now his leadership was being questioned by Spock. What was this, a mutiny? He wasn’t amused in the least when Spock called McCoy to come onto the bridge and give Kirk a physical evaluation. He didn’t want his crew to think Spock was the real one in charge on the ship, so he figured he’d put an end to this nonsense right now. 

“Bones, get back to the med bay. I don’t need your opinion, I’m fine,” Kirk said over the communicator to McCoy from the captain’s chair. 

“Would you two make up your damn minds? I’m a busy man,” McCoy argued over the communicator. The two were wasting his valuable time.

“Stay there,” Kirk said, not budging from his spot except to get close enough to Spock so he could hiss a reply under his breath. 

“I’m fine, let’s go. We can talk about this later.”

Spock stiffened in earnest when Jim leaned in. His breath still smelled heavily of whiskey, and Spock felt the familiar sensation of anger in his stomach. Anger and hurt. He kept it tamped down, however, choosing to remain calm.

"Then you leave me no choice, captain," Spock said evenly, coolly.

Without another word, Spock's fingers were clamped painfully down on Jim's arm and he was holding him tightly to his side, and escorting him quickly to the lifts. Uhura stood up, as if she were going to say something. But what would she say? The entire bridge crew was silent as Spock pulled Jim to the lift, his strength surpassing Jim's by twice.

At the lift, Spock quickly pulled Kirk inside, and when the doors slid closed, he pressed a button for another deck (any other), and let Kirk go.

"You are unfit to captain this vessel," Spock said. "And I do not believe that I would be disputed by anyone who has witnessed your behavior if I reported you as physically or emotionally compromised."

From Can to Can't // illogicalassumptions

Spock watched with quiet disdain as Kirk threw away another bottle, and then picked up a full one. How it must be to get away from life via drink. Spock did not begrudge the captain his pastimes, but so close to launch, and Spock felt uncertain whether Kirk would be fit to captain his vessel. McCoy would never let him on board the ship if he saw him this way, and Spock did not want Jim to suffer than kind of confusion and rejection. Even if it was his own fault.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Spock walked into the room further. How Kirk had kept all of this alcohol down, and not fully poisoned himself was indeed puzzling. Glancing around at all the bottles, Spock almost reached out and took the full one from Kirk's hand. No need for him to make it any worse, or put himself into anymore danger of killing himself.

But then, Jim was a grown man, who was capable of deciding on his own fate. Still, that did not ease Spock's mind. He cared for Jim. They were friends. In fact, Jim was really Spock's best friend. The urge to protect and defend him was incredibly strong, but Spock could not defend Jim from himself, or his own decisions. He had tried that before, and it had failed miserably.

"No," Spock said at last, his voice as even and cool as it was possible to be. "In fact, you appear to be unnecessarily intoxicated."

Spock shifted, and came over to where Jim was seated.

"You are aware that you will be required alert and sober on the bridge of the Enterprise in--" Spock paused to check the glowing clock in the wall, "--five hours, are you not?"

Still drinking over the past | Spock & Kirk

Spock straightened his spine when Kirk stood up. His fingers were tightly laced together behind his back, and the entire bridge crew was watching them. Shifting, Spock pressed the comm button on the captain's chair.

"Doctor McCoy, report to the bridge for a general medical opinion on the ability of the captain to oversee his ship," Spock said, his eyes not leaving Kirk. There was silence for a moment before he heard McCoy.

"What?" he said.

"Report to the bridge, Doctor," Spock said more firmly.

"Alright, don't get your Vulcan panties in a wad."

Spock released the button, and put his hand behind his back again. He tilted his head towards the captain.

"As you and I both know you will not pass even a glance from Doctor McCoy, I suggest you accompany me off the bridge, so that you and I may discuss a personal matter."

From Can to Can't // illogicalassumptions

Kirk didn’t notice the series of dirty looks he was getting from his crew and when Chekov turned around to look at him all he could do was give him an awkward smile and a wave of his hand. So when he heard Spock delay the order that Kirk had just given Hikaru to prepare for launch he was less-than-amused. 

“No, I’m the captain. I make the orders, not the first mate. Prepare for-” Kirk stopped to look back at Spock who addressed him to speak off of the bridge. Kirk frowned, not understanding what the big deal was. All they were going to do was prepare to launch. Kirk had had at least three cups of coffee between Earth and the shuttle and he was feeling fine. He ran his fingers through his hair and licked his chapped lips before standing up to address Spock face-to-face. 

“There’s nothing to discuss, mister Spock,” Kirk said, almost trying to sound intimidating in a way that might keep other people from questioning his actions, so he was certain Spock would catch his drift as well. 

Spock was seated at his station when Jim stumbled onto the bridge. He must have been intoxicated the entire shuttle ride up to the ship. He had been late for the initial shuttle, which had concerned Spock. But now, he wasn't as concerned as he had been.

In fact, as Jim spoke, Spock felt anger. Especially when Chekov turned to look over his shoulder, eyes wide and round. Many of them had never seen Kirk this way. Drunk. Stupid. Even Spock had never seen him like this. And that made him angry, and hurt in a way he couldn't describe.

Looking over to Nyota, she gave him an 'I told you so' look, and turned away from him. Spock turned back to Kirk, and then stood. Straightening his shirt, he came down off the back area.

"Delay that order, Mister Sulu," Spock said. "The captain and I need to have a word before launch. Hikaru looked at Spock, and then at Kirk, and then nodded, because they both outranked him, and he wasn't certain which to obey at this point since he, too, saw how inebriated Kirk was.

Looking down at Jim, Spock put his hands behind his back.

"Captain," he said. "I would like to step off the bridge with you briefly, captain." He paused. "I need to discuss with you a personal matter pertaining to take-off."

From Can to Can't // illogicalassumptions

Uhura had certainly “seen Kirk”, that was for sure. About an hour into her heated lecture about how poor of a friend and captain he was, he had had enough. He let her storm off back onto the ship and he went to get his things out of the small hotel room he had been using for the past several weeks while waiting for Spock to recover. He packed all of his necessities into a beat-up duffell bag, his head still swirling with whiskey and his emotions still ablaze from Uhura’s little talk. He wasn’t his normal self, still heavily intoxicated from the night before and lacking sleep to an almost dangerous level. He was in no condition to be the captain of anything, but he wasn’t going to let his ship leave him behind. 

“I’m alright…” Kirk said to himself, blinking heavily to get the blurriness out of his eyesight. He inhaled a deep breath and stepped into the Enterprise to report for duty. He slung his duffell bag into his quarters and dressed himself in his uniform, trying to tuck it in to the best of his inebriated abilities. Stumbling more than he was walking, Kirk entered the bridge and sat himself down in the captain’s chair sloppily. He took another deep breath, trying to keep himself from sounding as terrible and drunk as he still felt. 

“Prepare for takeoff, mister Sulu,” Kirk said, trying to enunciate all of the letters to the best of his abilities. He had been spiraling out of control ever since he thought he had killed Spock, or really it had started even before then. The altercation with Khan had truly altered the way Kirk saw himself as a captain, as a friend, and as a person in general. So much had been lost at so great a cost, Kirk was starting to feel as though he truly wasn’t fit for the job anymore. 

Spock shouldn't have been surprised by what happened, but in a way he was. Even as he rolled to look up at the man. The blow to the back of his head had not been enough to knock him out.

"I see," Spock said. "You will find significant resistance, and then you will fail."

“Security? If that is what you wish…” he followed the man without question. As he kept behind the Vulcan, his slender fingers slipped to his belt, pulling out a black phase pistol. His arm jerked up hitting the man in the back then sweeping his legs from underneath him. Pointing the gun he growled, “I’m taking what I want from this ship..”

Spock eyeballed McCoy closely, disliking his tone, but he obeyed anyway. After all, even Spock had become more accustomed to taking the man at his word. He might have been gruff, and they may not have gotten along consistently, but Doctor McCoy was the best doctor Spock had ever known, and that forced trust out of him.

He said nothing as he leaned over Kirk, and held his wrists down with one hand, and his ankles with the other. It was awkward, but not difficult for Spock. McCoy went about his work, and Kirk seemed to be getting worse. Which concerned Spock significantly as he watched intently, and held Kirk firmly.

+impulsivelydriven

Not generally one to take pity on those around him unless they were truly in peril, Spock's initial reaction was to show Leon to the closest passenger craft bay, and tell him to go back to Earth. But that seemed even heartless for Spock, who could imagine that for a man displaced from his time, it would be nearly impossible for him to find his way around on Earth. It was vastly different than it had been in his time. And at any rate, the Enterprise would be due back to Earth for routine repairs and restocking anywhere between the next week to three weeks.

"That being said," Spock told him, moving out of the containment pod, and back to the main security console. He picked up Kennedy's wallet, and other items (save for the knife), and brought them back to the tall man with the dark hair. "Our ship will be due back to Earth within the next month. At which point, one of our crew would be capable of directing you successfully to Starfleet headquarters. From there, you will be able to get transport to the capitol. You will be able to then reinstate yourself as a citizen, and decide what your next step will be."

Spock offered over the wallet and other items.

"I will speak with our captain when he returns, and you will be assigned quarters for the duration of your time aboard the Enterprise," he explained. Then he paused and knitted his brows together, just slightly. "Will that be acceptable to you?"

Leon noticed the other man watching him intently and was relieved to see the other man nod.  He was over two-thousand years away from his own timeline and the only thing he had to go on was his word and whatever his file had said. Even though he was aching for answers, he was actually relieved that Spock didn’t tell him anything.  If he had known about his future, he could have very well based his present on that future.  Whoever this Leon Kennedy was, who lived and died many years ago, was a different man from the present Leon.  As long as his future self, wasn’t an evil man, or a tyrant, Leon would be satisfied not knowing about his future.  Also, he wasn’t sure how he would be able to cope knowing that he could have had a wife or kid.  Would he try to seek out this wife? The thought scared him.  Right now, he couldn’t possibly think of loving anyone else except for Ada.  Maybe being left in the dark was a good thing.

Leon looked around the ship in confusion  If there weren’t any zombies here, then what was his purpose now? He highly doubted that the DSO was still around.  Helena, Ingrid and Ada could very well be dead.  As far as he knew, he had no boss, no partner and no lover.  While he had never enjoyed killing zombies, it had at least given him a sense of purpose.  After the outbreak in Raccoon City, he resolved to bring down the Umbrella Corporation.

Leon looked up as Spock mentioned the government.  “Yes, of course.” Leon agreed.  He felt hollow inside like he had no purpose anymore.  To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to work for a government he knew nothing about.