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“Go,” Jim said, “but I’m not leaving.” Spock shook his head, and let the turbolift door slid shut before him.
“And I will not leave you.” He said firmly.
“Please, Spock,” he whispered, “you have to go!”
“I will not.” He walked to the helm, and Jim followed, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Spock—“
“Captain,” Spock input the coordinates, then turned back to Jim, who moved his hands to the Vulcan’s face, “I am not leaving.”
“Spock,” he said again, desperately, “please.”
“No.” Spock pulled Jim to him, holding him flush against his heaving chest. “I will not.”
“We’ll—”
“I know,” he kissed the crown of a golden head, rocking slowly back and forth, “I will not let you do this alone.”
“Please…” Jim’s voice cracked, “please go. I need you to be safe.”
“Not,” Spock pulled back ever so slightly, cupping Jim’s cheek in his palm and wiping a tear away with his thumb, “without you.”
On the viewscreen behind them, the escape pods ejected, flying to safety from the dying planet and her doomed satellite.
They held each other as the ship burned.