[ Trek Crew Catch-All ] And you may ask yourself

[finalfrontiersman]

Who: Jim Kirk, Spock, Tendi, Bones & friends.
Where: The Trek house!
What: Catch-all for the month's nonsense.
Content Warnings: Profanity. Potential for discussions of survivor's guilt and Gnosia-related trauma. Old man yaoi.




See below for closed starters! This post will serve as a catch-all for the Trek cast~

Contact for plotting:

James "Jim" Tiberius Kirk | trickster88, PM, Discord by Request/Game Discord

S'chn T'gai Spock | askefise, Game Discord

D'Vana Tendi | posolutely, Game Discord

Leonard "Bones" McCoy | PM, Game Discord, Discord: chatnoir

Comments

[ closed to Spock, Tendi ] it's cool we're just friends

[finalfrontiersman]

[ The thing no one tells you about having a Vulcan mind bond in your noggin? It can be very distracting.

Jim's not sure he'll ever get used to it, truth be told; that it will never not be kind of awesome, all the time. He's been having problems zoning out lately - separating his mind from Spock's is easier said than done, staying focused on what he's supposed to be focused on or worse, staying cognizant in the outside world and not just the inside of his brain - especially when they're swapping good feelings back and forth. The bond is stronger with proximity, but even across some distance - Jim at STEM, Spock elsewhere probably doing his cat rounds, he can always feel him. When a spike of fondness (yup, Spock's with the cats, he knew it-) hits him, or when Jim accidentally burns himself working on a project (him going ow, shit, and Spock politely, but with incredible immediacy, inquiring as to what's wrong) - it's a new normal, one Jim's still getting the hang of.

Spock's been trying to teach him how to shield, to varying degrees of success - but more often than not they get distracted, one of Jim's errant thoughts spinning them off on a...different path of activity. He can't help it; he can't control his thoughts, and something that would typically fade into the background? Spock picks up on it like a bloodhound, has his own reactions to it, and feedback loop continues until -

Well. Until they end up as they are, sprawled across whatever horizontal surface is closest.

At least this time they're on the couch, Bones-the-dog lazily chewing a toy on the floor. Jim's half-sprawled on Spock's lap, face buried in his neck, teeth and lips blooming green bruises along the underside of his jaw. One hand is encircling one of Spock's wrists, two fingers extended to press against his palm (distal palmar, the knowledge that floats to him is not his own, but they're cooking in brainwave stew right now so Jim just sends back a wave of amusement, kissing his way back up to Spock's mouth).

The sharp gasp and subsequent (almost comical, really) crashing sound behind him, however, is enough to pull Jim out of the impromptu makeout session. He lifts his head, turning to blink at the interruption - ah. Tendi, looking like they might have maybe just broken her a little bit. Oops. ]

absolutely nothing "just" is happening here

[unprimed]

[Well. There she is.

The thing they don't tell you about these wacky multiverse crossovers is how weird they are. You're just existing, day to day, the way you always have-- but with people from other worlds, other planets, other realities. Realities where Orion isn't even there, or...maybe it just hasn't been discovered yet. Realities with-- with magic, and weird deities, and low tech...

And realities where you really do meet your heroes.

That might be the weirdest part of all, actually. On a ship, there's a huge separation: rank, decorum, work. It's notable to interact with the bridge crew, a lot of the time -- it means you're doing something unusual. Here, D'Vana Tendi is living her daily life in a house with these great historical figures. Historical figures she works alongside, eats meals with sometimes.

Historical figures who are...on the sofa?

Who are...

Oh.

The PADD (not a PADD) slips from her fingertips, clatter crash crash! and somehow even though they're-- well, making noises, you know the ones, and she's sucking in a sharp gasp, suddenly the sound is intrusively loud. And speaking of intrusive, here she is. And, oh crap, she's been spotted. Ahem.]

I-- I'm sorry, I was just-- [...actually, she has no idea what she was just doing anymore, but she hastily retrieves her PADD (still not a PADD) from the floor and studies it very...well, studiously. They say never meet your heroes, but they usually don't follow it up with because you might find them making out on the sofa when you least expect it. She's seen a lot of things, living on the lower decks, but this sure earns points for unexpected. As a delayed reaction, she puts said not-PADD over her face.] ...I...didn't see anything? [??? Why is she phrasing that like a question??]

just two bros sitting on a couch approximately 76.2mm apart

[ashaya]

[ Spock doesn't jump or flinch or startle in the way most would under these conditions. He can gather what it is that has interrupted Jim's current mission, the blunt of his Human teeth making themselves a known against the firm line of his jaw, but the oops that chases its way back to him is what loops back the internalized sigh before he might catch it. It isn't one of frustration, but rather fonder exasperation as he moves his free hand from its chosen location (the nape of Jim's neck, as it were), tucks it against Jim's side to facilitate a more supported movement from where it is he currently rests.

Perhaps the sitting room was ill-advised. ]

Ah, [ Spock says, almost like an afterthought. And it is, really, against the dry commentary he tips over to Jim silently. He doesn't aim to retrieve his other hand. He knows that Jim will likely relinquish it when he moves, but even so.

Even so, thankfully, his higher functions kick online faster than most species in the Federation. Humans? Certainly. Other Vulcans? As a matter of course. Before he ever tilts his head toward the sound, he's already settling any residual autonomic functions, rerouting any suggestion of vasodilation across the shells of his ears and the high points of his cheeks. The result? He's quite pointedly not flushed a shade or sheen near or about a greener hue of ochre. Instead, he blinks.

He blinks once, twice. It mirrors in many ways the passive observations of a Terran feline, woken from a particularly restful sleep. He clears his throat, just loud enough to catch. One eyebrow twitches upward, fleeting. ]

Excuse us, Lieutenant.

[ His words come clear and unmodulated, almost as if she had simply walked in on them having a typical conversation. It was a conversation in its own right, but that's something he keeps to himself (and, subsequently, Jim). To Ms. D'Vana Tendi, the read is undoubtedly difficult. To Jim? Well, he's still contending with increased cardiovascular activity. That will return to baseline momentarily, but for now? Well, the beat is markedly quickened where it thrums against Spock's side. And if he is in some part ruffled? Well, that's something Jim too will be able to gather before he loosely reconstitutes the typical level of shielding. ]

and they were roommates...

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Decorum? In Jim's Starfleet? Ha.

To be fair, back in the day (AKA, Jim's present) they were kind of running and gunning it. Honestly, Jim's convinced most of the admiralty thinks they're making up half the shit they report, but space really is that bizarre when it's all new and interesting. Anyway, he digresses - Tendi is kind, exuberant, and a total science geek (affectionate). She's a capable officer, but she also fits right in with the Spock-Jim-Bones typical brand of nonsense off duty - and frankly, despite the gap in rank the gap in age is only a few years. Is Jim really more mature than most of the junior officers she's accustomed to?

The answer is very definitively no.

Clearly he's a bad influence on Spock, or maybe they're both just enablers. Either way, the history books were kinder to the pair of them than they deserved.

That's not what you said ten minutes ago.

Jim starts to sit up, Spock helping him to gain leverage, but between the shock on Tendi's face (that she's attempting to hide behind the tablet, bless her, but too late, Jim spotted it) and the cut-off reaction from Spock that Jim is getting in play-by-play - he collapses in a fit of laughter, turning his head to bury it in a pillow for a beat. Spock's deadpan dryness while he redirects his biological reactions beneath the surface is too fucking funny.

This is hardly the worst thing Jim's ever been caught doing, so he's just going to go for shameless with both hands. He does manage to sit up under his own power, releasing Spock's wrist and setting himself upright - they're still definitely too close for polite company, but Jim doesn't have the ability to re-route his vascular system, so he's just gonna chill for a second. He's aware that there's this image Tendi seems to have in her head of the three of them as (potentially infallible?) leadership, though speculation as to why that was, exactly, hadn't been confirmed. It's not like Jim's the brass, he's Captain of a tin can. The fastest, coolest tin can in the galaxy, but still a tin can. ]

Cat's out of the bag, Spock. [ Not that they were really hiding it, but weren't they?? Jim didn't know how to tell Bones. He sure as hell didn't want to tell Peter and prove the little shit right. He's also not even sure what he would say. We're lowkey Vulcan engaged/married/mythic-level soulmates/other infinitely nuanced option?? ] Tendi, yes you did, and I'm not going to ask you to pretend otherwise. We just, ah...didn't expect anyone home yet.

It's - you know - [ Jim makes a helpless gesture between the two of them, unable to help the slight snicker, residual amusement leaking through. ] - kinda...new.

to mr spock (two days after)

[spidermenaces]

Hey. How are you feeling Mr Spock? Better?

[ashaya]

I am recovering, due in no small part to your efforts.

[ there's a moment where the text bubble appears, disappears. appears again. ]

Despite the prior circumstances, I regret that my actions have caused you harm. I was not able to convey as much earlier. [ another, much shorter pause. ] Has your recovery been similarly expeditious?

[ he knows what jim knows surely by now, but even so. ]

[spidermenaces]

Thats great to hear!

You don't have to apologize, Mr. Spock. It wasn't you, we all know it.

And you don't have to worry about us and injuries. We heal super fast, I'm totally fine now

[ashaya]

Indeed.

[ it's an agreement in two parts. ]

No, it was not.
However, such things are still a part of me.

[ he would know. he's seen it across more than just himself and outside this situation. ]

To acknowledge a wound is to allow it to mend.
I understand this to be a necessary component, for most Humans.

[ but, veering back into something safer for them both: ]

I am gratified, to know we share this similarity.
Though, you appear to have recuperated several hours ahead.

[ so, there might have been a delay before his first response. you know. healing trance, bond stabilization, et al. ]

to not-mister jim (before he goes home after rescue)

[spidermenaces]

How is she?

[finalfrontiersman]

You want the truth or something that will make it less scary to come home?
You really worried her, Pete.
But she's okay, otherwise. Just tired, I think.

[ His fault for, you know, tasing the shit out of her. ]

[spidermenaces]

I really screwed up didn't I...

I'm coming home, so it don't matter what you say. I just... Wanted to know before I got there.

[finalfrontiersman]

Yeah, Pete. But it's okay, we all do.
The people who care about us care anyway, you get me?

Good. She needs you there.

[ A pause. He shouldn't meddle, and Jim doesn't mean to, but Peter's a big boy, he can handle the truth. ]

She was scared, Peter.
When Spock got you, I think she was terrified.
I know I was.

the cat’s pajamas >> Spock

[finalfrontiersman]

Your surprise is done.
(You’re allowed into the yard again)

[ The catio is complete! There’s a nice meditation mat in the middle, a neat line of food bowls against the side of the house, and a water fountain Jim had to wrestle with for an hour to get it to work. He’s constructed multiple cat trees with climbing spots connecting them against the chicken wire wall, with toys, scratching posts, and a few catnip plants sprinkled throughout.

A cat paradise, one he’s been trying to hide from Spock all month beneath a tarp - especially once the bond was active. He decided to text him at a spur-of-the-moment interval today to try and keep it a surprise, but who knows if that actually worked. ]

rotating this in my head like terran fowl in a convection oven

[ashaya]

[ Here's the thing: Spock understands how to be discreet.

As much as he has been peripherally aware of Jim's project, he had honored Jim's need for such an unveiling. It had meant not asking Jim about what he had brought back with him at times or treading into the yard when Jim was working, but Spock had adhered to his wishes. Illogical as it may have been, he knew that for Humans the act of gifting and the concept of "surprises" satisfied a particular emotional "itch," as they might have called it. The natural chemicals produced, the pleasure of being able to "hide" something of benefit from the other until such a time that they were finished — Jim had explained it was an act of affection, a recognition. A sort of kindness.

And so, Spock did not seek out the answers until given permission. He recalls his mother had attempted such "surprises" when he was young, but he had not yet learned why it is was she took joy in it. Now that he was older, he told himself he must now ignore the clues, overlook the signals. He had cordoned off the bond where it was any such knowledge touched, allowed Jim to run his hand along it, but.

I will be there shortly.

And so he is, taking with him a nicely brewed cup of coffee out into the side yard. What he sees is not entirely what he expected, but he pauses at the lip of the back porch. Pauses, the dark of his eyes touching upon each minute detail that makes up the environs Jim's painstakingly constructed. He had known about the cats, Jim, but it was — there's a tentative little wave of something that rings of disbelief, wine glasses traced about with the pad of a thumb. As it goes, affection laps from beneath. Affection and curiosity, a sort of prevailing admiration for the workmanship that Jim's exercised. A surging sort of —

Very carefully, he steps down off the porch. His eyes stay fixed upon the structure that Jim's built, voice very soft when it is he reaches Jim's side. ]

Jim, [ he says, his name containing any manner of meaning as he settles his gaze upon him. It is not a question, but a statement. A recognition. ]

;3

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim doesn't know what theories Spock may have postulated about his behavior - he resolutely hasn't teased him about it, for fear of revealing his hand earlier than he'd meant to. Keeping a secret from a Vulcan was harder than it looked, and that meant being as tight-lipped as possible. Even so, Jim had managed to smuggle in the more obvious things - the catnip plants Bones had brought from the market, the cat toys, secreted in a shapeless duffle bag like he was moving drugs. Spock was right about one thing - all of it gave Jim a certain amount of satisfaction.

And it was all for this - the moment when Spock finally got to lay eyes on the project, painted a deep, forest green so as to be complementary to the house siding. Jim's positively beaming, hands on his hips, surveying his work with Spock's mental tenor offering a new lens. ]

You like it? [ A rhetorical question, Jim's side of the bond bursting with a pleased feeling he's unable to contain, like so many others. Jim accepts the mug with one hand, eyebrows waggling playfully. His fingers brush Spock's hand, a nonverbal thank you passing between them. ] Go on, check it out. You've got some visitors already, I think they dig it.

[ It's true - Accretion is drinking from a water fountain, while Jeffries scratches at a scratchpad, working his nails. T'khasi and T'khut have already claimed one of the little bedding alcoves, curled up next to each other. Jim's stolen Spock's notebook, which lies on a little shelf off to the side; a jar of treats and space for other things they may want to keep out here (but out of reach of the cats) also taking up residence.

Did Jim spend the morning down at the docks, luring some of the cats up to the house with food? Maybe. Now that they know it's here, Jim's sure they'll be back and probably spreading the good word. ]

[ashaya]

[ It is not to say he understands yet or full, but his mother had too been so adamant about granting items to him upon Human celebratory occasions. He did not see the purpose in surprises and often found that most couched the concept in cruelty, but Jim and his mother both - perhaps he might see more the appeal now, to how it is Jim's emotions sizzle across the bond as though the tail of Roman Candles. Spock holds the sensation of it within his palms as much as he holds the taste of it within his mouth, citrus sweet and sticky. If Spock makes it a known that he basks alongside the source of Jim's delight with a residual rumble of his own? Well, perhaps it is best expressed with the way his gaze seems altogether uncertain still of where to land.

There is much to take in, much left to study — but, Jim's expression is what draws him back in. Spock looses a ripple of some banked affection, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling in ways that seem only notable to Jim. ]

A fine piece of craftsmanship, [ he says, in response to the rhetorical question. He knows it to be one, but still it must be said. The effort that Jim placed in is remarkable, though it does not surprise him that he is too talented in this domain. Jim had always been one to take to construction without issue, hand deft and experienced in ways that extended beyond machines and circuitry. Spock feels the touch of his hand, feels the responding thank you for his coffee, and Spock dips his chin in recognition.

But, there is a pause that rises. Slight, as if the curiosity and disbelief has not yet passed. He pieces over his words, looks for the phrases he wishes to say, but perhaps it is simpler after all than he gives it credit to locate it, inadequate as it seems. His eyes flit back once to the structure, the words low and pitched for Jim's ear. ] Thank you, Jim.

[ It is another beat, but then Spock is extending the first two fingers of his right hand, his left settling at the small of his own back. ] Would you care to accompany me?

[ Surely, Jim should enjoy his spoils too. ]

closed to Jim | apology tour

[arachnerina]

[After her fight with Peter, Gwen didn't really know where to go, she just needed to be somewhere else. She was just frustrated and hurt, more than anything, so she thought she would just get some air. Only, no amount of air made her feel ready to go home.

She kept replaying the fight in her head, kept hearing the atrocious words Jim said to her while infected, and old habits came back to her so quickly. She really didn't feel like being around other people right now, once again pulling away and isolating herself. She'd at least let her friends know she was okay if they reached out, so she didn't worry them too much. She really just needed a minute to get her head straight.

It's not a surprise to her when Jim reaches out. She'd honestly been expecting it. After everything that happened, she figured they needed to talk. She doesn't blame him, even if the words still haunt her. It was all shit she was already battling, anyway, it just hurt more coming from someone important to her, just the way the ghost of her Peter had hurt last month.

She was having such a great time here, wasn't she?

Eventually, if a bit reluctantly, she found herself arriving at Jim and Spock's house, dropping down to the path to their door, and hesitantly knocking. She knows she needs to get this over with. It's just Jim. But why is she so nervous to face him again?]

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim hasn't seen Gwen in about a week. After confirming that her and Peter were both physically okay, Jim had backed off intentionally. He knew as well as anyone the kind of toll something like this could take on a person, and he also knew it was better to give Gwen space to process it, rather than forcing his presence on her too early. While it wasn't him, not really, it was his hands. His fists, his voice, throwing those words at her. Words he knew had hurt her, deeper than any physical violence he could have levied.

Words she'd absolutely taken to heart, based on their last conversation. After a week, Jim knew it was about time he took them back, whether she was willing to let him or not. It was important he say it anyway.

Gwen agrees to a visit without too much cajoling on Jim's part, and Jim opens the door a few beats after the knock. He's wearing an apron (he bought it for Spock as a not really joke; look, Jim's got to do something to amuse himself around here) and looks to be in a little bit of disarray - the apron has not helped with the flour covering his person, a smear of it high on his cheek.

The reason for the problem is obvious when Bones comes barreling over to greet her, knocking past Jim's knees and jumping up to Gwen, tongue lolling excitedly. Jim huffs and smiles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. ] He's been a menace. I keep telling him dogs can't eat chocolate, but he refuses to believe me.

[arachnerina]

[It's impossible for her eyes not to land on that apron first. As bad as she's felt, it's really hard to suppress a laugh at it.]

That's a look.

[Says the one in a sweatshirt and leggings in the middle of summer. In her defense, she didn't really pack, so much as throw the first things she grabbed into a bag. But it's fine, she'll survive. No matter how anxious and nervous as she might be, she can't be mad at Bones. When the dog bounds towards her, she drops to her knees to greet him, a small smile finally showing up again on her face.]

Hey buddy! [She is absolutely going to make sure Bones gets all the pets he deserves.]

What are you making? [She's trying to keep it light, even if she's rocking on her feet when she stands again. She had ate plenty of sandwiches and other snacks he had brought in to STEM, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to see him baking, or whatever it is he's doing right now. Cooking away his feelings? She knows, as bad as she feels after everything that happened, he has to feel worse. He's the one that said and did all those awful things. Having no control over yourself like that? That had to be horrible.]

closed to Vi, Jim, & Spock | double date night

[bulleting]

[Dinner and chess was something they had discussed a while ago, but given the state of the city, nothing was going to happen for a time thanks to the chaos of July. After everything, it was good to try to get back to some semblance of normalcy. It would be easy to fall into regret for her insane, infected actions, but after being here for so long, it was easier and easier to accept that things about this place would forever be out of their control and try to get back to normal.

So, dinner it was! Caitlyn wasn't sure that Vi would care so much about the chess match, but free dinner and booze? As if Vi would refuse. And it was nice, having an excuse to dress up and enjoy themselves. It was funny, as a child, she always hated dressing up and going to events and parties that her parents either threw or attended, but as an adult now, she found it wasn't always so bad, when the company was right.

Opposites definitely attract in the case of Caitlyn and Vi, so while Caitlyn was ready extra early, Vi was not, but at least it mostly evened out, meaning they arrived at Jim and Spock's about five minutes past the original agreed upon time. Vi trailed behind as Caitlyn knocked at the door, her heels clicking as she stepped back to wait.]

[finalfrontiersman]

[ The invitation to dinner had unfortunately been postponed, after...everything. They'd taken a week to recuperate; Jim's side was still giving him some trouble if he overextended himself, but otherwise things were mostly back to normal (if a little quiet, for Aldrip). It was then that Jim rallied to organize the dinner - it would be good to see Caitlyn, to meet this Vi he's heard so much about (her...partner? Jim's maybe assuming a little, based on the way Caitlyn talks about her). Just generally push past the dark cloud the Gnosia had left over all of them, perhaps.

When Jim opened the door, his smile instantly brightened for Caitlyn, welcoming her in with the offer of a friendly side-hug. It smells like cooking basil and garlic, a warm aroma throughout the house - he's managed to get the spaghetti squash into the oven without incident, hopefully they come out unscathed. ] Welcome, hello! You look great, by the -

[ And then Jim sees Vi, and goes completely still. Oh, shit. The flash of surprise and recognition is probably blaringly obvious on his face, if not through the bond to Spock, wherever he might be behind Jim in the interior. A murky memory floats to the foreground of his mind - Vi's face, from the alley where they had pincer-attacked her during the infection. Oh yeah, that's her. Jim had no idea; he'd actually been trying to find her, to at least send a written apology over the network. ]

Well - [ There was no balm to awkwardness besides acknowledging it, and Jim offers his hand to Vi, manfully pushing past it. ] - hi. You must be Vi. Jim Kirk. Nice to meet you - as, uh, myself.

[grappler]

[there's always so much complaining when Caitlyn stuffs Vi into an outfit that's nicer than the crap she usually wears, so she's kind of pouting while wearing this when they get to Jim and Spock's place.

when she sees Jim, her eyebrows raise for just a moment. but then she shrugs, and puts her hands in her pockets.]

Yep, that's me.

[a beat]

And don't act awkward about last month.

[ closed to Claude ] nightmare blunt rotation

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim's apology tour is in full swing by the time he's able to coax Claude into a visit.

Jim had heard about the apothecary, the damage that had been done in Claude's absence; he'd gathered the leftover supplies from his catio project and passed them on to the construction crew responsible for the cleanup. He wasn't sure how much it would help, but it certainly couldn't hurt - and Jim had no shortage of things to begin making amends for. He leaves it for a week, aside from a note that goes unanswered for three days (as is Claude's right - he stuck Spock full of arrows and held his own, but they still ultimately beat him to shit and left him in a pit). He's surely dealing with other things, but when Claude does get back to him, Jim extends the invitation for a drink. He'd prefer to say his apology face to face, and wants to see how Claude is faring, after everything - besides, liberal application of booze doesn't hurt, either.

The house is kept on the warm side, for Spock's comfort, and at the moment it's fairly cozy. Jim's got the lights on in every room, coffee table clear for once - the organized bins beneath the table speak to the usual level of mess, filled with components for their various projects. A bottle of bourbon, two glasses, and a plate of cookies (?) are set out to welcome his guest. Bones the dog is sulking on the carpet, having been shooed away from stealing a cookie (not for lack of trying). Jim, for his part, opens the door with an easy smile - not the baring of teeth the Gnosia had given, warning imminent danger, but back to his usual affectation. Easy, simple, earnest. ] Claude, welcome. Come in!

[feintofhart]

[ It's not due to any personal grudge that Claude has left Jim unanswered. It's just that he hasn't felt quite up to it, even with the kindness of supplying a few supplies. He has affairs to put in order, locals to touch base with, people he needs to check up on, and a solid four hours a day he has allocated to staring moodily at his ceiling. It is his gods-given right, he's decided, to allow himself a little time to brood and complain, if not only to an empty room.

But he does want to get in contact with Jim eventually, and so he makes time to accept his invitation, showing up with a pack of goods at his side (some tea he'd liberated from the explosion), his trademark easy smile resting comfortably on his face now that he's gotten himself together again.

It takes a little more than death to put down Claude von Riegan, he's decided. He's grinned his way through worse. He can do it through this too. ]

Jim, [ he says with a nod. ] Good to see you.

[ It would be a lie to say that his nerves aren't fried, that there isn't a part of him that still believes that Jim's just going to try to beat the shit out of him again, poison his drink, that there aren't people waiting to kill him in every dark shadow -- but that's how he's lived his entire life. This is no different, aside from the fact that for the briefest of times, he'd actually let his guard down. ]

I hope you two are recovering well enough from that whole mess. All of your brains are back in order, I hope?

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim gets it; everyone's been dealing with the infection aftermath of their own accord, and with the way Claude's shop had been destroyed (and how is it that his shop gets destroyed, but other buildings seem to pop right back into existence as they are, completely whole again? Un-fucking-fair, Aldrip) - well, Jim's not taking the delay personally.

Claude looks good, and there's an iota of tension that eases somewhere in Jim's spine, just being able to lay eyes on him and confirm that. His Gnosia memories are blurry with pain and the torment of inescapable voices (add that to the nightmare rotation, you know, just in case his subconscious gets bored), so it was hard to determine just how badly they'd injured Claude during their shared psychosis. Based on the defensive injuries Spock had accrued, Claude hadn't gone down easy; but he had gone down, right into that fucked up little oubliette they'd constructed. Jesus H. Christ.

Anyway, Jim steps back to allow Claude entry, closing the door behind him. He doesn't offer a friendly pat the way he normally does - Jim's all too familiar with how off-balance it could put a person, after a friend becomes a foe. No, it's far better to let Claude determine his own comfort level. ]

Back exactly as they should be. [ Jim is also not fessing up to the weird-ass soulbond bullshit that gave him a direct mental link to Spock, established in the aftermath of everything. Not upfront, anyway; Claude had helped him sort through his own nonsense, but this was...a lot, even for Jim. ] And yourself?