Together Under The Stars

Shooting Stars

Jim kept to himself for the next few days, as he always did after an altercation with Frank. And with bruising in such a visible place as his face, it was always better to stay out of sight until it had healed. So he only left his room in the middle of the night to make himself some food and stretch his legs.

To keep from going insane from being cooped up all day, he would generally take the food outside. He liked to eat it under his tree. With everything around him bathed in silvery moonlight, the world had an ethereal glow. Most nights, he also brought a book out with him, reading it by the light of his trusty flashlight. Tonight was one of those nights.

He lay on his stomach on the grass underneath the tree, the flashlight perched on his shoulder. He liked being out here. He loved the fresh air and the night sounds that surrounded him like a comforting blanket. It was infinitely better than being stuck, hiding in his room.

He knew he could stay out here for most of the night, sneaking back just before sunrise. And he'd probably be tired enough afterwards to sleep for most of the following day, alleviating some of his cabin fever. Thankfully, Frank was very much an out of sight, out of mind kinda person. As such, he had a tendency to forget about Jim if Jim was not immediately before him.

It was always a good idea to stay out of Franks sight when he visible bruises. As the sight of his handiwork only made him more likely to refresh them. So Jim was making very sure to stay well out of sight until his black eye healed. Hence sneaking out in the middle of the night to sit under his tree.

He quickly became lost in the world of his book. Books were one of the only escapes he had access to out here in the middle of nowhere, Iowa. And living with Frank, he needed an escape to stay sane.

He lost track of time, laying there reading under the moonlight. He was aware of nothing but his book. He was startled back to the world around him by a voice. Spock.

"What are you doing out here, Jim? It is very late."

"I'm reading." Jim replied, holding his book up. He kept his head angled away, not wanting Spock to see the purple bruising discoloring his face.

"That much is obvious. But why are you reading outside in the middle of the night? Everyone else is sleeping."

"Well, why are you out here then?! Shouldn't you be sleeping too?!" Jim snapped back.

"I found myself having difficulty sleeping and saw you from my window. Are you also experiencing difficulty sleeping?"

"No! I'm fine! I just didn't want to be inside anymore!" At this point, Jim, forgetting the bruising on his face momentarily, looked up at Spock as he gestured vehemently.

Spock sucked in a breath as he saw the dark bruising that surrounded Jim's eye socket and spilled out over his cheek. "Jim!" He cried out in dismay, sinking to the ground beside him. "What happened? Have you been injured?"

Forgetting himself in his concern, Spock reached out to Jim. Cradling Jim's face in his hands, he gently ran his fingers over the dark raised area of Jim's face soothingly.

Jim leaned into the touch ever so slightly. It had been so long since he had been touched without the intent to hurt, and Spock's cool fingers felt good against his slowly healing bruise. He couldn't remember the last time he was touched with such care and kindness. The touch seemed to burn itself into his skin, awakening a desperate desire for more. His eyes unconsciously slid closed as he rested his head against Spock's careful fingers.

Jim eyes flew back open and he couldn't hold back a whine when Spock abruptly pulled back, looking horrified at himself.

"I am deeply sorry, Jim. I should not have touched you." Spock said contritely.