1lostone | Strength of Men, Ch 8

Title: Strength of Men
Author:

1lostone
Pairing/Characters: K/S, mentions of other relationships
Rating/Category: NC-17
Universe: ST Reboot
Wordcount: 40k (so far) (and holy shit! yay, me!)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. *eyeballs mortgage* Clearly.
A/N: Well, we're moving along here. Yeah, some people have guessed that some of the characters in the TOS episode Conscience of the King- only it's a redux version. And by redux, the characters are quite a lot more... evil... than in the original. *shrug* :D Thanks as always to

ostia2006 and

ladyblahblah for letting me ask them the most random of questions and being damn awesome.
Warnings: H/C, Angst, Longfic, Attempts To Write Plot, Use Of Every Fandom Cliche Since The Dawn Of Time

Chapter 1 ~~ Chapter 2 ~~ Chapter 3 ~~ Chapter 4~~Chapter 5 ~~ Chapter 6 ~~ Chapter 7

Stardate: 2264.9

The turbolift’s doors wooshed open.

Spock could feel who was standing there a split-second before the Captain walked out onto his bridge.

“Commander Spock, I am completely thrilled to let you know that your duties as captain of this beautiful lady are no longer required. The good doctor has given me a clean bill of heath!”

Spock raised an eyebrow. Jim’s voice sounded positively gleeful. He had been less than receptive to the three-point-six days of medical leave. The captain could frequently be seen sparring in the gym, challenging other crew members to various games in the recreational area, sharing meals with his subordinates and generally making it perfectly known that he would rather be back on the bridge. Spock overheard the words “Bones” and “bastard” in several separate conversations.

Jim stood next to his chair, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He made a little “shoo” motion with his hands, and Spock felt his raised eyebrow twitch. Through the residual effects of their broken bond, Spock could faintly feel Jim’s buoyant spirits. Spock got up and moved to his own science station, relieving the ensign who had been stationed there with a nod of acknowledgement.

Jim sat on his chair and sighed in such a satisfied way, wiggling in the seat as though he was making room, that Spock noticed Lieutenant Uhura had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing outright.

“Lieutenant Sulu, report!”

“We are approximately three hours from Wrigley, sir.”

“Increase warp by two factors.” Jim’s smile was so bright that it seemed to light up the room. Spock noticed how several of the crew members’ own emotions seemed affected by seeing their captain back in control of the Enterprise. He, naturally, was not susceptible to such emotional occurrences. He just found that a jovial atmosphere on the bridge often resulted in a coherent crew- and a coherent crew performed their duties admirably.

“Yes, sir.” Even the helmsman’s mood seemed moderately more positive.

Spock turned to his console and began working on several of his own projects that circumstances had forced him to let slide. Jim’s exuberance was like a small burst of light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Spock was finding it difficult to completely ignore it. He found it quite puzzling that a broken bond would have such a lingering effect. Jim had actually asked him over a game of chess two nights ago. Spock had found himself somewhat at a loss to answer Jim’s questions. No, he had never heard of this happening before. Yes, logically it was possible that it was a side-effect of his only half-Vulcan physiology. Jim did not seem overly concerned about the loss of privacy. Spock quickly deduced that Jim’s sense of his ex-bondmate’s emotions was not as strong as Spock’s unless there was physical contact. Spock had composed a lengthy missive to his counterpart, asking for advice on the matter, but had yet to receive a response.

Jim was in the middle of a conversation with the Ensign Chekov when his console beeped, signifying a message. Spock happened to look up as Jim took it, and watched his face pale at an alarming rate as he read it. Spock’s gaze met Lieutenant Uhura’s. Her face was quite expressive, surprise indicated by a slight widening of her eyes. Most messages went through her. He made a split-second decision. Clearly, the captain’s well-being was at stake, as evidenced by his sudden pallor. Spock watched as Jim made an effort to delete the message, stabbing particularly hard at the keys, straightening his spine and his back. Spock could detect a little flutter of panic in the back of his mind, but Jim showed no outward evidence, instead staring at a point slightly to the left of Ensign Chekov’s head.

It was very simple to copy and divert the message to his own secure frequency. Had he not noticed the small occurrence, Spock never would have been able to do such a thing. Unfortunately, Spock had been able to find no trace of the first message that had caused Jim such distress. Whoever had sent it had also programmed a virus into it so that the material was unrecoverable.

The message was simple:

To our own lips. He's here in double trust/ Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him/ Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes/ 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy.

The picture file that accompanied it was a close-up of part of Jim’s face. His normally bright eyes were dim with terror. The left side of his face was a mix of purple and yellow from extensive bruising. There were three fingers on his neck; splayed out in a bruising grip as though someone from behind Jim were hanging on to his throat. The fingers were filthy, nails and cuticles ragged and torn.

Spock felt the stylus snap in his fingers. The message started its destructive sequence; Spock stared at blue eyes as they started to fade away, the words also fading into obscurity. He was purely unprepared for the feeling of possessiveness that burst deep within him. He took a deep breath and looked over to where Jim was still staring out into space.

Spock felt as though he would hurt something if he stayed at his station for one moment longer. The depth of emotion that he felt was appalling. Even more so was the sharp memory of his own hand wrapped around Jim’s fragile throat as he squeezed. Then, he had someone to react against. Jim had provoked him past endurance, therefore he must be stopped. Simple. Now, however, Spock found that there was nowhere to direct this sudden surge of rage. He had not often thought of his loss of control on the bridge, but seeing that picture had brought the memory back. Did the captain equate one moment of violence with another? He flexed his hands, forcing them out of the two clenched fists.

He stood and walked over to Jim’s chair. “Permission to be excused, captain.” Spock had purposefully stood within Jim’s personal space so that he brushed against the captain’s sprawled leg. At the touch, Jim sat up, shooting him a quick, grateful look before taking a rather shaky breath. The small jolt from Jim’s feelings was somewhat soothing. Jim was pleased to see him; the little bit of panic dulled.

“No problem Spock. Shift’s over in a few minutes anyway.”

“Indeed.” His voice was clipped. Spock felt an irrational spurt of anger at Jim. If that had been the second message, what had been communicated in the first? It was unthinkable. Spock wanted the privacy of his quarters so he could begin to track down these messages. He turned on one heel and stalked towards the turbolift, fighting to keep his face impassive.

Once inside his quarters, Spock began a sequence that would continue cross-referencing a possible list of suspects. It had been narrowed down to fifty. This was subjective in the sense that Jim’s captor could have disguised their hair color or physical features, but it would have been difficult to hide their body type.

He had also initiated a separate ship-wide monitoring system that was hidden under several sub-layers of life-support, so that it would not be discovered should anyone else desire to sabotage the Enterprise’s security equipment. He found it insupportable that the area around the captain’s quarters had not been under continuous surveillance. If the recording devices had gone offline, then he should have been made aware of it immediately. Spock, while not technically in charge of security, still had several department heads report to him daily both as the first officer and acting captain. He had not been amused to discover such negligence.

To say the least.

He began another sequence to try to trace the messages. He tapped his monitor. “Lieutenant Uhura.”

“Yes, Commander?”

“I require your presence in my quarters in approximately twelve minutes- when your shift is complete.”

“Ah…yes sir.”

Spock ended the communication and continued to work, quickly lost in thought. When the chimes on his door cheeped to indicate that someone was seeking entrance, Spock didn’t hear it the first time. He had narrowed the list down to thirty- four names.

“Spock?” Nyota’s voice through the door.

“Enter.” He finished up rechecking the calculation he was working on and turned in his chair to where she stood, uncertainly shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Nyota. I wish information. Please be seated.” Spock attempted to modulate his voice. Some of his anger had subsided, but enough bubbled near the surface that Spock knew he must be cautious.

“Yes?” She sat on the bed and looked up at him, tilting her head in question.

“The captain has received two threatening messages to date.”

She blinked, eyes narrowing. “I beg your pardon?”

“I do not know the contents of the first message. The captain was quite distressed. The message was written to self-destruct with a virus so that it was irretrievable once open for a certain amount of time.”

“And the second? On the bridge?”

“Lines from the ancient Earth playwright, William Shakespeare. From Macbeth, I believe. They were not in their original order. Rather, they had been rearranged to form a threat. This was accompanied by a picture of Jim while on the enemy ship.”

His hands tightened in his lap as he recalled the picture of Jim’s eyes, the same feelings of fury and protectiveness overwhelming him for a moment. He fought it down with an effort, focusing on his breathing, uncomfortably aware that Nyota was still watching him. Spock took his duty as protecting the captain very seriously. That someone would purposefully seek to harm him...!

“You’re . . . mad.”

She always was uncommonly perceptive for a human. He opened his mouth to speak but before Spock could answer, his door chime whistled. “Enter,” he said instead.

The doors whooshed open again to reveal Jim. He walked in with his head down, and seemed to catch a glimpse of Nyota on Spock’s bed out of the corner of his eye. Jim’s step faltered and he quickly looked up. His expression, which had looked fairly worried, changed to embarrassment.

“Oh. I’m interrupting. I’d just gotten used to walking on in. Sorry about that. Lieutenant. Commander. I’ll catch you guys later.” His smile looked somewhat less than his usual blinding grin. Before either of them could speak, he had turned on his heel and left.

Spock found himself tensed to go after Jim. He settled back into his seat. Nyota was still looking at him. He could feel a slight flutter of embarrassment at the back of his head, and knew that it was not coming from himself.

“You’re not going after him?” Nyota’s expression turned even more curious.

“That would be unwise. I would likely cause the captain more distress. I find myself highly… agitated over the implications that someone is purposefully trying to harm him.”

“So, basically you need me to help.” She thought for a moment. “I would like to know for sure where the messages came from; through subspace or off of the ship itself.” Nyota stood and crossed to his computer, swinging the console out of his hands. Her fingers fairly flew over the keys as they struggled to keep up with her brain. Spock found that he was quite pleased with the quiet work environment and soon immersed himself in his own projects, content.

Jim sat by himself at a table near the back of the recreational area. He knew he should probably go into his quarters if he was going to mope, but he was pretty sick and tired of hiding in there. It made him feel weak.

And fuck him if he wasn’t sick of feeling weak.

“You’re looking especially pathetic today.” Bones sat down in the chair across from him, not bothering to ask permission. He plopped a tray down in front of Jim, and one in front of himself.

“Hi Bones. What the hell is this?”

“Hi yourself. It’s called vegetables. So, first day back I thought you’d be a little more… smiley. You look like someone just shot your dog.”

“Yeah. I guess. Just tired I think.”

Bones leaned over, tilting Jim’s chin up so that he could look over him. It was a gesture he’d done hundreds of times. Jim was pleased that random touches didn’t send him running down the corridor screaming, but it still made his skin feel too tight.

“You don’t look too bad; better than I’d expect actually. Either you’re repressing like a sonuvabitch or…”

Jim gently disengaged from Bones’s grip. “I think it was something they did to me on New Vulcan. Ambassador Salkek was helpful. It’s a really weird feeling. Like, all those emotions- being scared or disgusted... or humiliated are there, but not really there. If you know what I mean.”

“No. I really don’t.”

Jim blew out a breath, trying to explain. “Okay so imagine your everyday, normal Vulcan.”

“I’d really rather not.” Bones smirked.

“How do you think a Vulcan would look at emotion?” Jim stole a fry off of his friend’s tray.

“Logically?” Bones took a bite of his hamburger, interested despite himself.

“I think so.” He pointed the fry at Bones. “It’s like all that shit is there, just waiting for me to examine it, but I can do it when I want instead of having my memories jump up on me. It’s like every day things have gotten clearer and clearer.”

Bones’s gaze narrowed. “Okay, so why were you sitting there looking like your dog just died?”

“Oh.”

He didn’t want to tell Bones about the three messages he’d received. He knew that Bones would go nuclear if he knew what had been in them. Hell, his head was about to explode. The first one had scared the bejesus out of him, the second had started to piss him off, and the third had just made him sad. He was just so tired of this. After his shift had ended, he had gone to Spock to ask him if he would mind helping him track down who was sending the messages, but had walked in on him and Uhura. That had just been embarrassing. He just wanted to talk to the guy, not cockblock him.

“You know… I think when you get back into your normal routine you’ll start feeling better.” Bones took another bite of his burger, then slapped at Jim’s hand when he reached for another one of his fries. “Veg-ta-bles. Eat them. Or you’ll be grounded again.”

“Yeah, well a certain evil bastard I know just recently allowed me to go back to duty.” Jim stared at his tray, vaguely nauseated. He wasn’t sure what the replicator had done to the mess of green... things…on his plate, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t edible. He cautiously tried a green bean, trying not to actually taste it.

“Yeah, well, this evil bastard only had your best interests at--”

“You know, maybe I do need to go back to my normal routine. Get drunk. Get laid.”

“Well, that would just be fucking stupid. You don’t need to get laid after what you just went through, emotional enema or not.”

Bones was interrupted by Jim’s communicator.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk.”

“Kirk here.”

“Message for you sir. From a Mr. Riley. Kevin Riley.”

Jim felt his heart give a funny little flutter. “I’ll take it here. Thanks.” Jim saw Bones start to leave, but Jim shook his head at him, reaching out and touching his wrist.

“Kev?” The man on the small screen looked willowy and pale. He was small in stature. The eyes were the only thing that Jim recognized. Kevin was only about nineteen years old, but he looked older than Jim, nothing like the little half-starved boy Jim remembered taking care of.

“Hey Jimmy. Jim. Um, Captain Kirk.” Kevin smiled, and all at once, he wasn’t someone so different after all. “I heard that you’re going to come and pick me up with that badass ship of yours.”

“Yeah, something like that. We have a stop to make first. Do you remember Erica?”

“Yeah. She’s the one that told me you were looking for me. We keep in contact pretty regularly.”

“Oh.” Jim felt the normal spike of guilt that hit him whenever he allowed himself to remember his childhood. How he basically abandoned them.

“Well, I was just about to make your life a little easier. I’m on my way to Wrigley. Maybe ten or so hours out?” There was the sound of another voice giving an affirmative off screen. “Yeah. Anyway. Do you think you’d be interested in maybe meeting up? Maybe dinner with me ‘n Erica?”

“That would be awesome, Kev. Let me know when you arrive, okay?”

“Okay. And… Jimmy? It’s really good to see you again.”

“Yeah. You too, kid.” Jim smiled at him and signed off.

Bones gave him a minute after he ended the call before jumping back into his previous conversation. “I’m serious Jim. Going back to that right now is a pretty damn fool move. Last thing you need right now is to be drunk.”

“I don’t know, Bones, I’m thinking it sounds pretty damn good. Maybe arrange for some shore leave for the crew while we’re on Wrigley? Help out with crew morale and all.”

Bones opened his mouth to argue with him, but was interrupted by his own communicator this time. “Dr. McCoy you’re needed in Sick bay.”

“Damnit. Acknowledged.” He leaned forward onto the table. “You better not do anything stupid, kid. I just worry about you. Come see me if you’re feeling particularly like making any idiotic choices, okay?”

Riii-iiight. “Yeah, sure. See ya!”

Bones stalked off. Jim switched their plates and began happily munching on the rest of Bone’s hamburger. He decided that indeed the crew could definitely use some shore leave. He licked some ketchup off of his finger and quickly gave the orders. During the first month of his captaincy he had arranged a skeleton crew for the Enterprise done on a rotation basis, so that everyone would have a chance to enjoy their shore leave.

“Captain?” Jim looked up from his task to see Yeoman Karidian standing uncertainly at his table. He smiled up at her. She blushed.

“Have a seat.”

“Oh, thank you sir. That’s not necessary. I was just double-checking to see if you needed anything specific in your quarters. I noticed that there was some glass near the eating area a few days ago.”

“Yeah, I uh. Broke something. Sorry about that. I should have cleaned it up. I just got too used to you taking such good care of me. And here, you’re going to be the first to hear the news.” He punched in the code for a ship-wide broadcast into the wall console.

“This is the captain speaking. My bridge informs me that we will be arriving at the planet Wrigley within the hour. I’m pleased to announce a ship-wide shore leave. Please access the duty roster for who is on duty first. See your officer in charge if there are any questions.” He grinned at the whoops of delight in the recreation area. Apparently people had not noticed him sitting back in the shadowy corner. “Wrigley is known as a pleasure planet. Feel free to double your pleasure; just don’t bring it back to my ship. Have fun. Kirk out.”

Decision made, Jim grinned even wider up at the Yeoman who was now at least smiling faintly. “Would you please have a seat? You’re making me strain my neck.”

She sat, blushing a little more. It had been so long since he had had a chance to flirt with anyone that Jim found himself enjoying himself immensely. “Okay, so tell me. How do you like it here on the Enterprise?”

“I, uh. Find it very nice, sir. There is quite a lot to do here.”

“Where were you stationed before the Enterprise?” Jim leaned forward. Her eyes were downcast, but he could see how she was peeking up at him through her lashes. It was rather adorable, actually. Her whole posture had changed, relaxed as she conversed.

“My father is an actor, actually. So was I for awhile. He had to retire rather suddenly and we found ourselves without anything to do. So I joined…”

“Captain.”

Jim was surprised at Spock’s clipped tone. He had left the bridge so quickly that Jim hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to him. By the time he had made it to Spock’s quarters to ask him what had set him off, he and Uhura were… occupied.

“Hey, Spock. What’s up?”

“I desire to speak with you.” Jim winced. Shit. Whatever he had done must be pretty epic. He didn’t know how someone who frequently claimed to have no emotions did it, but Spock sounded pissed.

“Oh. Well, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Spock’s lips tightened. “Very well. I will wait.” His gaze flicked over Yeoman Karidian and back over Jim, managing to make Jim feel like he had been caught doing something rude during class.

Jim rolled his eyes. “Sorry about this Yeoman. Maybe we can continue this some other time. Thanks for your concerns. It was nice to talk to a pretty girl for a little while. Usually I can’t get away from him and Bones.” He smiled again at her and was happy to see her blush at the compliment.

She nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Have a good night.”

Jim grabbed his tray of untouched vegetables and Bones’ empty tray and dropped it off on the way out of the room.

“I was not aware that you and the Yeoman were dining companions.”

“Yep. So, what did you need?” Jim found himself speeding up a little in order to keep up with Spock’s long strides. He hadn’t realized that it was even possible for a Vulcan’s footsteps to sound pissed.

“I find myself puzzled by your illogical actions.”

Jim blinked. “Really? Can you be more specific?” They paused for a moment in front of the turbolift, standing aside as a few beaming crew members got off before them.

“I find that statement will encompass most of your actions. Deck seven.”

Now wait just a damn minute. Jim hit the control that stopped the lift. “Now wait just a damn minute! What the hell, Spock?” He reached out and grabbed the Vulcan’s arm, trying to turn him towards Jim. It was like hanging onto a particularly stubborn tree. Expecting that Spock would turn, Jim lost his balance, having to take a quick step towards Spock before he fell over. The movement brought them so close that Jim could feel the blast of heat from Spock’s body. He could actually feel how angry Spock was through their connection. Jim forgot that he had actually asked a question for a moment as he stared into Spock’s eyes. He felt his body start to respond, which was pretty damn unfair. While it was nice to know that he still had a sex drive, this was so not the time. Spock looked like he wanted to throttle him again.

When Spock finally spoke, Jim could feel each separate puff of air from the words against his lips. "Even in this corner of the galaxy, Captain, two plus two equals four. Almost certainly, an attempt will be made to kill you. Why do you invite death?"

Jim blinked, taking a hasty step back. He let go of Spock’s arm, and was completely astounded when Spock took a step forward, back into Jim’s space. His heart began to beat more quickly as adrenaline surged through his body at Spock’s aggression. Part of his mind was screaming at him that he was stuck in a very small space with an irate Vulcan who was about to become even more emotionally compromised. Part was screaming that if he moved just that much they would be kissing.

“You are not unintelligent. Why would you allow a shore leave when we have not yet caught the person responsible for your kidnapping?”

Oh. Well, fuck.

“Captain, I find that your apathy towards putting yourself in danger by your unending desire to cogitate with your genitalia quite distressing on both a personal and professional level.

“I. uh…” Did Spock just accuse him of thinking with his dick? But before he could respond with anything more approximating Standard speech, Spock was moving away from him and back to the other side of the turbolift, as though he couldn’t bear to be any closer to the human sharing the small space with him.

“Deck. Seven.” Spock bit out.

Jim tentatively tried to reach out to Spock through their connection, only to find what felt like titanium walls slamming down between him and Spock’s mind, cutting him off completely. Somehow, that hurt more than Spock’s harsh words. The rest of the lift ride was conducted in silence. Spock left on his deck, walking purposefully towards the science labs. Jim noted, as the turbolift’s doors slid shut, that the other crew members were practically throwing themselves against the bulkhead in order to not be between the stalking Vulcan and his destination.

Fuck.

Jim stood there for a moment, appalled. What was wrong with him? He had been almost ready to jump Spock not three minutes ago. Even more troubling was the sick, lonely feeling he had in his stomach. Adrift. All at once he was very vividly reminded of walking alone in his mind, searching for something that had been lost to him. Jim blinked again. Spock had been right, of course. Jim hadn’t been thinking about his own safety.

Three hours later found Jim in a much better headspace. Getting drunk had never sounded so good.

He had been unable to contact Erica Molson. He had tried to set up a meeting with her but she had not yet returned his message. Spock had managed to circumvent all of Jim’s attempts to discuss his mistake. Jim couldn’t retract his shore leave without a damn good reason, and the fact that maybe someone from his past might come after him was not good enough. He had an amazing group of people working with him, and they deserved some time to relax. The last shore leave had been a quick weekend on D’monici III, and cut short by a slight diplomatic incident involving a not-so virginal Clan Chief daughter’s very protective little brother. Actually, that little misunderstanding had been quite embarrassing to explain in his report to Starfleet.

So, Jim found himself beaming down with the rest of his crew, walking the streets until he found himself at a bar that didn’t look too dangerous. He wasn’t in the mood to kick anyone’s ass today. Or have his ass kicked, for that matter.

He darted into the bar and sat in the back. There was some very nice Romulan Ale with his name on it, freedom from disapproving Vulcan first officers, and many pretty women around who, Jim was sure, would be more than willing to help him forget his little reaction towards his First Officer.

Two bars later, he was feeling pretty good. Especially when he caught the gaze of a familiar face. She wasn’t wearing her Regulations, but had chosen instead something much more feminine. Her blonde hair shone in the dim light of the bar. Jim made his way over to her, watching her out of the corner of his eye, much as he had done with Uhura so many years ago.

“Yeoman Karidian! Are you gonna let me buy that drink for you now?”

“Captain. How very nice to see you again.” Jim was just buzzed enough that he could appreciate the difference between Yeoman Karidian and the off-duty version. “You left so quickly earlier. We never got to finish our conversation.”

“Aww, I’m sorry. Here, let’s go sit down and we can catch up.” He scanned the crowded bar for a free table. Jim’s mind was thinking about all sorts of things like: ‘contact unbecoming an officer’ and ‘sleeping with a subordinate’ and ‘maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all’ but the alcohol beat those thoughts into submission. He was here, she was interested, and this shouldn’t be that complicated.

“Why don’t you get the table, and I’ll get our drinks.”

Jim nodded and went off. He managed to snag a table before a particularly inebriated Gorncould get its hands on it, glaring at him until it moved off. He never could tell which was female and which was male.

“Here we go!” She sat down several shots of something lilac in color. “Drink up.” He did, unable to help the smile that bloomed on his face. Take that Bones. Getting drunk and laid was a damn excellent idea.

“You asked me how I enjoyed the Enterprise.” Her voice fairly purred now. “I do find myself enjoying it very much. On the ship there’s all this power, surging and throbbing. Yet under control. Are you like that, Captain?"

“You really should be calling me Jim.” Something very faint was starting to warn him that there wasn’t something right, that he was forgetting something important, but as the next shot of lilac alcohol slid down his throat the faint thought completely disappeared. “And I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

Chapter 9