A/N: This fic takes place right after the end of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. I disregard Generations somewhat, but not outright. I based this fic off the song "Shots" by Imagine Dragons; all the quotes in italics are from that song. Huge thanks as always to my wonderful editor and friend sherlockian-of-the-shire on tumblr for her help and support! I would like to dedicate this fic to anyone who has ever doubted their self-worth or struggled with their value; you are worth more than you could ever imagine. In memory of Leonard Nimoy.

Am I out of touch? Am I out of my place?

When I keep sayin' that I'm lookin' for an empty space

Oh I'm wishin' you're here, but I'm wishin' you're gone

Dear Spock,

I would like to begin by thanking you for saving both my and Bones's life on Rura Penthe. You risked an interplanetary war in order to get us off that damn asteroid, and I don't believe I ever thanked you for it. I don't think I ever thanked you for finding evidence to exonerate me and Bones either.

Spock, I'm sorry. I mean it. I'm truly sorry. You should've trusted me, yes, but I should've trusted you to do what was right when it came to the Klingons. You've always been trustworthy, more than any other being I know. I don't know why I forgot that now. My behavior towards the Klingons was rude and undiplomatic, but my behavior towards you...I took you for granted, Spock, and I can't forgive myself. I held a grudge about your decision because I refused to see how my own prejudice was getting in the way of my abilities as Captain. None of what happened was your fault; it was mine, and I claim full responsibility.

Remember what you said about us both having outlived our usefulness? I might have, but you never will. You can see things the rest of us can't with that extraordinary Vulcan mind of yours. I'm sure you'll find a way to spend your time after we are decommissioned productively.

This is our last voyage into space together on the Enterprise. Sad as I am to leave my ship, I'm even more sad to leave my crew. I know our relationship has been...rocky for the past few months, and I don't expect you to forgive me for my outbursts this time. Even though I doubt I will see you much or ever after we get back to Earth, I want you to know that I still consider you t'hy'la. I don't know if I still have the right to use that word with you anymore, not after what I've done, but I have nothing to lose now. Live long and prosper, Spock. I love you.

Jim

I can't have you and I'm only gonna do you wrong

Oh, I'm gonna mess this up, oh, this is just my luck

Over and over and over again

He couldn't sleep. He had sealed the letter and slipped it under Spock's door, knowing that the half-Vulcan would find it when he got up to meditate that morning. 0200 hours and Jim still couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Bones's distraught face as the Chancellor died or felt the winds on Rura Penthe or, even worse, heard the pain in Spock's voice after the forced mind-meld. God. He kept going over the past few days in his mind, wondering where it all started to go wrong and blaming himself, and the cycle of blame and remorse had become more than he could bear. Just as he gave up attempting sleep and reached for the light, he heard unmistakably tense footsteps heading towards his door. Both his and Spock's doors were coded to open for either one of them, but they had begun a habit of knocking on the wall before getting too close so that they could maintain some degree of privacy. So it surprised him when the door opened without a knock to reveal Spock standing in the doorway in his meditation robes, holding a sheet of paper and looking harsher than usual. Spock took a few steps into the room, enough for the door to shut, but those few steps got him close enough that Jim could tell the paper he was holding was shaking. Spock's voice sounded controlled, almost robotic.

"I do not understand you."

Jim started. Out of all the scenarios he had imagined in his head, this was definitely not on the list.

"I-"

"Do not speak until I am finished," Spock almost growled. "I do not understand you. Why would you assume I do not want to see you once we have been decommissioned? I did not save your life only to see you ripped from me again."

Jim stared, mouth parted slightly in surprise, at the authoritative figure in the middle of his room. He'd seen Spock in quite a few different moods over the course of their relationship, but never had he seen this.

"I was under the impression that we discussed the topic of blame earlier in my quarters and that it was resolved to both of our satisfaction. Did I misunderstand? I did not expect any further debate on the topic. I can comprehend if your desire to continue a relationship with me has faded and you therefore wish for me to be absent from your life, but from the last few lines of your letter, I have concluded that such a situation has not occurred. I have given you no indication that my affection for you has lessened or changed. As such, I cannot comprehend why you assume that we will not see each other once we leave this ship."

Jim quickly sat up from his slouched, half-shocked position to try to defend himself.

"Well, we hadn't been talking for a few months, at least not like we used to, so I assumed you had moved on. I didn't even know you were talking to the Klingons, for God's sake! And then after the way I treated you on this mission- Spock, how could I expect you to still harbor any affection for me?"

Spock seemed to stiffen at his last words, and Jim watched as his friend, his t'hy'la, paused and took a deep breath. He expected a sharp "Yes, Captain," a swift, pivotal departure, or maybe a harsh slap to the face for good measure- anything except what happened next.

Am I out of luck? Am I waiting to break?

When I keep sayin' that I'm lookin' for a way to escape

Oh I'm wishin' I had what I'm takin' for granted

Spock exhaled, and with that his apparent anger seemed to deflate. The hand holding the letter dropped to his side, and he stared at Jim with a patience that came from decades of close quarters and arguments. Jim was used to looking Spock in the eye- it was a sign of respect, after all- but this was different; Spock didn't seem to have his normal emotional barriers up, because Jim could see a storm brewing in those dark eyes. Just when he was about to stand up and plead for Spock to understand, Spock moved.

Holding the letter as far away from his face as possible, he carelessly ripped it in two and let the pieces fall to the floor before looking back up at Jim, who was now gaping at his friend. Within seconds he had made the few strides it took to get from the door to Jim's bed, and as he stood looking down at Jim's face he could see a multitude of emotions: fear, curiosity, desire, love, pain, but mostly confusion. He longed to reach for the meld points on his t'hy'la's face and let Jim see the inside of his mind, see the extraordinary love that resided inside him for this small, very frail human, but to do so would be unethical. He has already forced a meld on one; there was no need to do it to another.

"Jim."

Even to him, his voice sounded rough with emotion. He cleared his throat.

"Jim. If there is anything I have made clear in the past 27 years, it has been my regard for you." Another small cough. Something was wrong with his voice box today. "I have made it no secret to you that I consider you more than a mere friend. I see no reason, either logical or emotional," cue eyebrow raise, "to change that fact now, and I refuse to allow you to make assumptions as to my feelings when you have yet to ask for my assessment of the situation."

Jim swallowed hard. He knew Spock was right. It was illogical, but he had wanted to be able to avoid this very conversation. He didn't feel very worthy of love right now. Why was Spock so damned insistent on giving it to him?

"What is your assessment then, Spock?" He tried hard to keep his voice from betraying him, but he saw Spock wince ever so sightly and knew that he had failed. He looked down at his lap; he didn't want to have to look Spock in the eye and watch him say that he no longer wished to be acquainted. Much to his surprise, he heard the muted rustle of fabric and felt a warm touch on the underside of his chin that lifted his face to where he was eye-to-eye with a now-kneeling Spock.

"My assessment, Jim," here Spock paused to take his hand away from Jim's face and place it over Jim's right hand, "is that you are being illogical. I still desire your friendship and your companionship, even if you are unwilling to remain lovers."

Jim started at this declaration.

"I...I was under the impression that you were the one unwilling to remain a couple, Spock." Jim ran a hand through his hair before continuing. "I would've stayed with you forever, but you started drifting away a few months ago and I was worried that by keeping you with me I would be depriving you of a chance you wanted. You're so much better than me, Spock. You don't need me tying you down."

Jim had been looking at Spock's hand over his own, and he was not expecting to look back up into eyes that shone with a glint of- was that jealousy?- that Kirk had only seen in his bond mate a handful of times.

I'm sorry for everything, no, everything I've done

From the second that I was born and since I had a loaded gun

And I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved

Oh I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved

The barely-concealed rage in Spock's voice was enough to make Jim seriously reconsider his strategy, as well as his physical location.

"When will you stop berating yourself, Jim?" Spock's focus was electrifying now; he couldn't look away even if he tried. "You are not perfect, but you do not have to be perfect to be deserving of love and respect. Your crew respects you, even when you make mistakes; they are loyal because they believe in your ability as a leader. The Captain I respect and the man I am bonded to inspires me because of his depth of emotion and intense morality, even when those result in adverse outcomes." By now, Jim was biting his lip to hold back tears. Spock must have really missed him; he wasn't usually given to this type of emotional display, even when they were together. "I love you, Jim, not only for your strengths, but also for your flaws. I love you for the man you are, not for the man you believe you need to become. Your constant self-deprecation makes it incredibly hard to maintain a healthy relationship with you at times. That is why I left; I made the decision that you would be able to better work through your personal issues without my interference. I apologize. I appear to have been wrong in this regard."

The remorse in Spock's eyes broke Jim's heart. He has never wanted to hurt his bondmate, and watching Spock blame himself for Jim's issues made him sick. So he did the only thing he could think of- he kissed him. When he pulled away, Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Am I to assume that we are a 'thing' again, Jim?" Jim hurried to reply.

"I didn't mean to impose anything on you. I just thought-" Spock silenced him with another kiss.

"I am amiable to renewing our relationship if you desire." The obvious joy shining in Spock's eyes contradicted the flat tone of his voice, but Jim knew that Spock was merely trying to exercise control over his feelings.

"I would be amiable to such a setup as well, Mr. Spock. On one condition." Spock's sudden shift in emotions from joyous lover to serious negotiator was almost instantaneous, and it would have alarmed Jim if he had not encountered it so often before.

"What is that, Jim?" Spock's voice was soft, almost a whisper, and Jim felt his heart breaking again at how fearfully alone his bondmate sounded.

"We will talk before assuming anything ever again," Jim stated, shifting backwards into the bed and pulling Spock beside him. "I don't want one of us running off because of a misunderstanding again, Spock. We're two halves of a whole. Plus, you're warm." The small chuckle his joke elicited from Spock made Jim's heart constrict with hope.

"I agree to your condition, t'hy'la." Spock nodded curtly even as the beginnings of a smile spread across his face. "There is nothing I would like more." Jim smiled and maneuvered to find a more comfortable position with his head on Spock's chest.

"Now that that's settled, what do you say we take a nap? I'm exhausted." He heard a wry chuckle from above him in the vicinity of Spock's head.

"I believe such a proposition would be agreeable, Jim." Spock smoothed back Jim's hair and closed his eyes. He removed the shield he had erected to protect Jim from their bond and settled into sleep.

As the two of them slept, their bond flared to life once again, and this time, it would never be severed.

In the meantime, we let it go

At the road sign we used to know

We can let this drift away

Oh we let this drift away