Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Bones figured out when we were at the Academy,” says Jim. “He figured it out before I did, actually.”

Spock nods quietly. 

“It was kind of scary for me — I’d been having these blackouts; I’d wake up and not know where I had been — and I eventually told him about it, and asked if he’d noticed. And he sighed, and sat me down, and said ‘Kid, I’ve got something to tell you.’ Apparently Jamie had made himself known months before, and Bones was just waiting for me to figure it out.”

Spock’s respect for Doctor McCoy has near doubled since he became aware of Jim’s system; he appreciates the doctor even more now, for not forcing a revelation of his identity on their friend.

“There’s other alters, too, besides me and Jamie. It took me a while to meet everyone…and I’d think I’d got them all, and then a new one would pop up.” 

“Well,” Spock says. “When the opportunity arises, I will be eager to meet them.” And Jim’s eyes light up.

“Spock,” he says, “why wait?”

“Are you suggesting—“

“A meld.” Jim says. “If you want. There’s a visualization tactic that I learned, back in the day, where you imagine an inner world and interact with different alters inside it. And if you meld with me, then I can show you around.”

Spock is amenable to the idea, provided that his captain understands the significance of a meld. “Mind melding is not something to be taken lightly, Jim, but I am willing to initiate one, if you understand that.”

“I do,” Jim says, clasping his hands and leaning back in his chair. “First, ground rules?”

“Ground rules,” Spock echoes.

“I think you get all of these, but I just want to make my expectations clear. First: I don’t see how it would come up, but Jamie doesn’t know about Tarsus IV. He can’t know about Tarsus IV. Under no circumstances should he know about Tar—”

“I shall not allude to Tarsus IV or mention anything related.”

“Great,” Jim says, somewhat relieved. “Second, which I think you’ve got down already: just treat them like normal people. Not like extensions of me.”

“Of course.”

“And, thirdly, there’s some stuff that I am going to keep private. If anything happens that I don’t want you to know about, I need you not to pry. Got it?”

Spock nods. Jim is about to continue, but before he can, Spock leans forward slightly and says, sincerely: “Jim, you are important to me, as is your privacy. I want you to know that I will not knowingly ask you for more information than you are comfortable sharing.”

Jim blinks, touched. For a moment, he seems at a loss for words, then coughs and says, choked: “Thank you, Spock. That means a lot.”

“Shall I initiate the meld?”

Jim nods, and Spock leans forward. He puts his hands on Jim’s psi points.

“My mind to your mind,” he says, and Jim takes a deep breath. Spock closes his eyes. “My thoughts to your thoughts.“ He hears his words echo, both in his own ears and in Jim’s.

Chapter Text

Spock opens his eyes inside Jim’s mind, and finds it several degrees more tangible than most human minds he’s been inside. The few times he’s had cause to meld with a human, he’s found his surroundings to be a flat plane, stretching infinitely in every direction. Once, the surface of the ground was a field of grass; once, it was an infinite tiled floor.

Jim’s mindscape is something else entirely. Spock is sitting on a twin bed; Jim, watching him, is across the small room, sitting on an identical one. Spock takes a moment to scan the room, and he realizes: this is a Starfleet Academy dormitory room.

Jim must be able to tell what he’s thinking. “Yeah, it’s my dorm room from the Academy. The one I shared with Bones. Early on, when I learned about visualization, my room was the only place I could think of at the time.” He stands up. “So I recreated it here.”

“And your other alters, they live here?”

“When they’re not fronting, yeah.” Jim nods towards the doorway, and Spock follows. As Jim closes the door behind them, Spock notices it’s labeled “Jim,” in a style not dissimilar to the “Captain’s Quarters” sign on his room on the Enterprise.

The next door they come to has a sign over the door, too; it’s hanging on a peg, and says “Jamie” in colorful letters.

Jim knocks on the door, and when there’s no response, opens it slightly and sticks his head  in. “Jamie?” he says. “Spock’s here, if you would like to say hi.”

Jim opens the door fully, and Spock follows him into the room. It’s much different than Jim’s; it has a loft bed, decorations in the shape of birds, and open curtains with sun shining through them.

Spock is momentarily caught off-guard by the child he sees, sitting cross-legged on the rug under the loft bed. Abruptly, he realizes the child is Jamie; since he met Jamie in Kirk’s body, it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d have a different physical form.

Jamie barrels towards Spock as soon as he sees him. Suddenly, Jamie’s arms are wrapped around Spock, and his head is buried against Spock’s torso. Spock pats him on the head.

“Mister Spock!” Jamie exclaims, voice muffled by Spock’s uniform shirt. “It’s good to see you!”

“It is good to see you too, pi’Jamie.”

Jim squints at the diminutive, confused. “Pi’Jamie?”

“It means ‘small,’” says Spock. “Little Jamie.”

“Aww.” Jim’s expression softens. “That’s adorable.”

Jamie looks up at Spock. “Wait. How are you here? Are you like Len?”

Spock raises his head to Jim. “Len?”

“Another alter,” he says to Spock. “I’ll explain more later.” To Jamie, he says: “No, Spock’s paying us a visit.”

Jamie squints. “What do you mean paying us a visit?”

“Oh,” Jim says. “It’s an expression, kiddo. It just means he’s visiting us.” He sits down on the rug, and motions for Spock to do the same. “Spock’s mind-melding with me—with our body—and that’s why he’s in our headspace.”

Jamie nods, somewhat understandingly.

“I often find myself confused by human colloquialisms as well, little one,” Spock says. He has quickly found himself developing affection for this child.

“I like you, Mister Spock.” Jamie grins brightly at him, and then his eyes widen. He turns his attention to Jim. “Can we visit Cats? Can Spock meet Cats?”

Jim pauses, thinking it over. “Sure,” he says. “If Spock wants to, then we can go visit. Do you want to, Spock?”

“I do not see a reason to say no, Jim. It is important to me to become familiar with your collective, and if meeting a feline headmate of yours will help with that, then I will gladly meet them.”

“Aw, Spock,” Jim says fondly. Jamie pokes him, and he adds: “Ah, Cats isn’t actually a cat. Her real name is K’Ahtz—Jamie just calls her Cats, and she lets him, because it’s adorable—and she’s a Vulcan.”

“Well,” says Spock. “If meeting a Vulcan headmate of yours will help, then I will gladly meet her.”