[ If he's being honest, it helps him too. It's probably stupid and all in his head but sometimes he gets cold and it has nothing to do with the controls. He knows about how he was brought back and if it isn't Khan or Marcus or Daystrom or his crew dying because of him---it's some psychosomatic bone deep chill that just won't abate.
He doesn't know how many times he's woken up shivering for no reason. How many times he's woken up hearing the proximity sensor going off in his head right before the deck lurchs sickeningly under his feet. Carol screaming as she was transported off the ship against her will. Spock and Uhura's faces as he apologized for getting them all killed.
Tonight, though, he hasn't even managed to sleep. He should ask Bones for a sedative. He won't. He'd rather have company, because he sleeps better when he isn't alone. He's just tense and restless tonight, and exhaustion is harder to hide. ]
I'm not the only one who needs to relax. It's past 0245, Spock. You're still doing reports.
[ But the old saying is misery loves company. He can't help but think it's wrong cause he doesn't feel miserable when Spock is here with him. He hopes, under that calm Vulcan veneer, that Spock gets something from this too. It's hard to tell, sometimes.
He's about to get the tea for both of them, and give one over---but Spock stops him. He feels his hand curl into his own, and grips loosely back. Jim nods slowly, but it's clearly a rote motion at this point. The tight smile and terse I'm fine he puts on during the day when he doesn't have the energy to put on the full show is almost out of his mouth, but he settles for shaking his head in contradiction to the nod. ]
no subject
He doesn't know how many times he's woken up shivering for no reason. How many times he's woken up hearing the proximity sensor going off in his head right before the deck lurchs sickeningly under his feet. Carol screaming as she was transported off the ship against her will. Spock and Uhura's faces as he apologized for getting them all killed.
Tonight, though, he hasn't even managed to sleep. He should ask Bones for a sedative. He won't. He'd rather have company, because he sleeps better when he isn't alone. He's just tense and restless tonight, and exhaustion is harder to hide. ]
I'm not the only one who needs to relax. It's past 0245, Spock. You're still doing reports.
[ But the old saying is misery loves company. He can't help but think it's wrong cause he doesn't feel miserable when Spock is here with him. He hopes, under that calm Vulcan veneer, that Spock gets something from this too. It's hard to tell, sometimes.
He's about to get the tea for both of them, and give one over---but Spock stops him. He feels his hand curl into his own, and grips loosely back. Jim nods slowly, but it's clearly a rote motion at this point. The tight smile and terse I'm fine he puts on during the day when he doesn't have the energy to put on the full show is almost out of his mouth, but he settles for shaking his head in contradiction to the nod. ]
I can't sleep.