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Fuckfuckfuck!
Spock just had to be the one to fall through the ice. The pool he crashed into wasn’t deep, but it was enough to soak Spock through his thermals. Why did it have to be Spock? Why did it have to be Spock on the mission with the unexpected cold front while they were stranded?
Despite all of his usual control, this cold was debilitating for the Vulcan. He could barely climb out of the chilly waters before collapsing entirely, only able to shiver.
Cursing, Jim knelt down to maneuver the shivering mass of Vulcan onto his back.
“N-n-n-no,” Spock stuttered out. “W-w-w-wet.”
“I’m not gonna die from this, but you’ll die if I leave you.”
There were no more protests. Probably because Spock was shivering too hard to speak.
Fortunately, the cave they were taking shelter in wasn’t too far away. They’d just left to gather some firewood. Ironic how their attempt to warm up led to this.
It had been their second trip, so there were already two armfuls of sticks inside. Gently—but with haste—Jim laid Spock down beside the firewood. A little, whimpery, “no,” came from the Vulcan as Jim released him. The single syllable shattered Jim’s heart.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” Jim whispered while helping Spock out of his wet clothes. He then tossed them aside, saying, “Be back soon.”
Alright, now they needed a fire: Jim’s body heat alone wouldn’t do much for Spock against the open air. They didn’t have much equipment on them. The planet was uninhabited, so only the security officers had been carrying phasers. Still, Jim didn’t take so many survival courses for nothing. He tore moss from the cave’s wall for kindling. It’d be a smoky fire, but better smokey than frozen. Jim then arranged their pile of sticks over his moss as quickly as he could.
There. Only thing missing now was a spark.
Without hesitation, Jim took out his communicator and ripped it open. He hoped Spock’s hadn’t been left in that pool or become water-logged. The Enterprise would have a hard time finding them if both communicators were dead.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jim caught sight of Spock, who was curled into a pathetic ball. Still trembling like he was going to fall apart.
The Enterprise could figure things out, and maybe Jim could reassemble the communicator once Spock wasn’t in danger.
Exposing the communicator’s power cell, Jim managed to get some moss burning. He then blew on it, praying. The glow turned to a lick of flame that started growing by the second.
Success!
Once Jim was sure the small flame wouldn’t go out, he started taking off his clothes. They were mostly dry, so he laid them near the fire in a makeshift bed. It was no mattress, but it just needed to separate them from the cold floor. Then, the only thing left to do was get Spock.
Since Spock was undoubtedly freezing, Jim figured it would be difficult to coax him from his ball. That was not the case: one touch on the shoulder, and Spock immediately uncurled.
“P-p-p-p-please,” Spock begged, lifting trembling arms toward Jim.
Gathering Spock into his arms—God, he was so cold—Jim moved them both onto the little bed of clothes. He positioned Spock towards the fire that was growing in size and filling the cave with smoke. The smoke made his eyes sting. Maybe it would’ve bothered him if Spock’s frigid face wasn’t tucked into his neck. Jim rubbed Spock’s back to try and add some heat from friction.
More for himself than Spock, Jim started to whisper, “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. It’ll be okay”
Gradually, the shivering stopped. Spock’s body gained warmth. Relief replaced Jim’s frantic emotions, and he took a minute to just appreciate Spock’s steady breathing. The rise and fall of his chest. Jim kept rubbing Spock’s back, but it was slower. More for comfort than for heat.
Thank god.
As much as he would love to keep cuddling Spock, Jim knew he should probably get to work on that communicator. They’d get out of here much sooner with a working one, and he could try reassembling the one he’d gutted now that Spock was out of danger.
Jim gave Spock one last squeeze and then he tried to dislodge himself from their embrace. The arms around him didn’t budge.
“Spock, can you let me go? I need to fix the communicator.”
“Please. T’hy’la, please”
Fuck the communicator: Spock had reverted back to Vulcan. He must have been worse off than Jim thought. “Okay,” He whispered back. “T’hy’la for just a bit longer.”