Chapter 11.2 /12

[1lostone]

Title: Strength of Men 11/12
Author: 1lostone  
Pairing/Characters: K/S, mentions of other relationships
Rating/Category: NC-17
Universe:  ST Reboot
Wordcount: 59,897k  (out of roughly 60k before betad... give or take)
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
~~ Chapter 8 ~~ Chapter 9 ~~ Chapter 10 ~~ Chapter 11

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When the turbolift doors whooshed open on the nearly silent Bridge, Spock acknowledged his own feeling of relief.  He had arranged for two humans of Jim’s acquaintance to beam aboard the ship, and had spent a good bit of his time composing his own notes to Starfleet. He could testify that Kodos had kidnapped Jim for the second time, but had hesitated for sending the missive, unwilling to discuss what had happened after he had made the split-second decision to go to Jim instead of to Kodos.

 

He had found himself unable to cease thinking of Jim. Doing so brought forth some highly inappropriate reactions while sitting in the command chair, so Spock had spent a good portion of his shift seated at his science station, working diligently, glad that Nyota was not on duty to comment on the very tips of his ears being slightly green-tinged.

 

. When they had first beamed back to the ship, and Jim had been still covered in sweat and smelling of him, he had not liked the covetous glances the transporter tech had sent under her eyelashes. Spock like the dark spike of jealousy and possessiveness he felt with Jim. Neither of those emotions were particularly logical. He remembered very clearly a conversation with his mother when he was younger after he had been baffled by some of the things that he was feeling, and shamed that he was feeling them.  She had taken him aside; her soft hands startlingly cool on his face, and had explained that feeling emotion was not a sign of weakness. Spock still felt guilty over his transgressions. That wasn’t particularly admirable either.

 

While the Enterprise had orbited around Wrigley, he had had quite a few hours to think while working at his science station.  He had seemingly made mistake after mistake with his human. It was quite disheartening to realize that he was fallible. It seemed like such a juvenile mistake to make; how did a Vulcan not realize that he was bonded? However, once he had the time to sit and think about it, there was a flood of knowledge that came to him on the subject. Given the absolute dearth of response from his older counterpart, it had been quite obvious what had occurred.  He could recognize his own thought patterns and detect that the other version of himself had implanted knowledge on bonding as well as his hypothesis of what had occurred. Spock was saddened that even after proving himself over and over in his earlier studies on Vulcan; his elders had not valued his contributions enough to educate him on the most simple basic matter of bonding. His own father had shown him what to look for, and had explained the particulars, but had clearly assumed that he had been trained in the Vulcan manner.

 

Prejudice in any form was completely illogical. So was hypocrisy. He had been astounded to attribute either Human emotion to his Vulcan teachers.

 

Still, he had not known that he didn’t have all the facts. It had never occurred to him that he would be able to bond with anyone. Certainly, it had not occurred with Nyota. When he thought about it, which wasn’t too often, he had simply assumed that his humanity would keep him from that last bit of his Vulcan heritage.  Truly, after hearing the accounts of all the severed bonds after his planet was destroyed, he had thought himself fortunate for his human half.

 

That his counterpart had acted against his own wishes was… well. In a way it was as though Spock himself had done it. His initial reaction had been anger that his other self would be so presumptuous. Spock had made it very clear that he wanted the bond broken. That, Jim wanted the bond broken. Only… Jim was the one that seemed to accept the ‘residual’ effects with no trouble, once he had gotten over his initial shock. It had been Spock who had stubbornly refused to see what was right there in front of him.

 

He saw Mr. Scott enter through the turbolift, and realized that his shift was up. The engineer was looking rather pale. He sat down gingerly at the command chair, nodding over at Spock. “Hello, Commander. You’re relived.”

 

Spock nodded back, and rose to walk across the bridge. It was quiet, the skeleton crew taking over for those who had served on Spock’s shift looking hyper aware and ready to work.

 

Duty completed, he made his way to his quarters where he compiled the very brief command shift report, then stripped and stepped in the fresher.  He had not had a chance to do so earlier, having dropped into meditation almost immediately after he returned to the ship. His fastidious nature had been appalled that he could still smell Jim’s scent, but doing so calmed something primitive in his soul.  That certainly hadn’t helped him control his body’s responses as he remembered various sensations from Jim and his physical encounters with him.

 

When he had intruded on Jim’s shower he had been completely unprepared for the pure lust that had practically curled his toes at seeing his bondmate wrapped in only a towel, beads of water running slowly down his skin.  He might have admitted to himself that Jim was one of the most aesthetically pleasing humans he had ever seen, but having all of that muscle and sinew within touching distance had had an effect on his resolution to stay away from Jim.

 

Spock had been quite distressed by his own reaction; equally wanting to step forward and pull Jim to him and run away from him again. He had been so ashamed at the memory of his behavior- against his bondmate!- that Spock had been floored by the knowledge that Jim thought that he was somehow in the wrong. He could clearly feel the slight sliver of anguish that the thought caused his bondmate, and had responded in the most cowardly way imaginable- by reinforcing his shields so that he wouldn’t overwhelm him with another surge of pure want.

 

Spock quickly cleaned his body, preferring the sonics to getting wet. He had promised to meet with Jim after his shift, and he did not intend to be tardy. He had so much to try to explain, and to hopefully apologize for.

 

When he had finished, he crossed quickly to his closet and dressed in another uniform. He knew his hair was still slightly damp, but he did not want to be apart from Jim any more than he had to. 

 

Which is why it was quite a surprise when the man didn’t answer his door.

 

Spock’s eyebrow twitched. He hit the chime again, and waited patiently. There was no response.

 

“Sir?”

 

Spock looked around, spotting a rather bubbly looking ensign clutching a PADD to her chest and looking at him eagerly, as though she desperately wanted to help him. “Yes, Ensign?”

 

“If you’re looking for the Captain, he went into Lieutenant Uhura’s quarters earlier. Perhaps he is still there.”

 

Spock nodded, refusing to admit to himself that keeping his face impassive had taken an effort.  The proclivities of such a closely knitted group of people included gossip, but he had never before been so unhappy to hear it. He waited until the corridor was clear before crossing to the wall console and calling up Jim’s location.  The computer showed him in his quarters. Spock wasn’t sure if that knowledge made him feel better or worse.

 

He could not override the Captain’s own quarters’ entrance code without having to make several explanations, but he did have another way to enter without causing so many questions. Spock went back into his room, trying to not feel so desperately jealous. Jim had been forced into bonding. He was free to spend his time with whomever he wanted. He—Spock took a deep breath and told himself to cease acting so illogically. There were at least forty-three different, completely innocuous reasons that Jim would go to Nyota’s quarters. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and crossed into Jim’s quarters via their shared bathroom.

 

The lights in the room were dim. Spock could clearly see Jim’s huddled form on his bed, sprawled across the mattress on his stomach.  Spock moved silently over the carpet, crossing to the bed. He debated for a moment before kneeling on the floor beside the sleeping man. He couldn’t explain why he felt it necessary to look at Jim from such a close proximity, only that he wished to do so.

 

Jim’s face was slack in sleep, and Spock found his lips twitch in a minute smile to see that there was a small line of saliva that had pooled on the sheet near his mouth.  Jim made a small discontented sound in his sleep, and Spock reached out to touch his brow as a reflex, stroking the cool skin with two fingers, smoothing out the furrowed forehead. He caught vague impressions of dreams, but nothing tangible.  The slight touch caused his own shields to shiver with awareness. Spock felt it inappropriate to remain shielded against his bondmate, but overwhelming the Human with Spock’s confusion at this time would also cause more damage to their already frayed relationship.

 

Jim’s eyes opened slowly, and the sleepy smile he gave Spock caused his breath to catch in his chest. Jim’s expression changed abruptly and he almost recoiled from the edge of the bed.

 

Spock stood, shutting his eyes for a moment at his own inadequacies. “Jim. I am sorry to have awoken you. If you would like me to come back at a later time I will be happy to do so.”

 

The mattress shifted and squeaked as Jim sat up. Spock tried not to blush at the inordinately intimate sound. He carefully took a step back, keeping his gaze carefully off of Jim so as not to infringe on any more of his privacy.

 

“No, of course not. I guess I slept longer than I had thought. Lights, standard.” Spock blinked in the sudden light, watching as Jim winced and held his head.

 

“Are you unwell?”

 

“What?” Jim blinked at him a few times. Spock was quite aware that Jim did not often wake up immediately at his best, and crossed to the replicator to order their customary tea and coffee.

 

“Your head. You grabbed it and winced. Are you having an adverse reaction to your time on the planet?”

 

There was a cough and Spock saw Jim rubbing his hands briskly over his face. “No. I’m fine.”  Jim sat down in his customary chair and nodded his thanks at the steaming, sweet mug of coffee. “I wish I had a shot of bourbon to go with this. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”  Jim’s voice was raspy with sleep. Spock swallowed once, hard.

 

“I too believe this conversation might benefit from some… liquid courage.”

 

His dry tone, combined with his use of the colloquialism, caused Jim to smile, which had been his intent. Spock sat down across from Jim, sipping his own tea.

 

“You said that you don’t get drunk from alcohol. Is there anything that does make you little goofy?”

 

“I assure you, Jim, that Vulcans are never ‘goofy’. But to answer your question, yes. There is something that affects me in a similar way.”

 

Jim’s blue gaze settled on Spock’s, surprised, then amused. “Really?”

 

“Indeed. I have not experimented fully, but alcohol does have a slight effect on my physiology. It just takes larger quantities to get me… inebriated. There is a more efficient way.”  He found himself pleased at the rapt way Jim was staring at him.  He lowered his voice, leaning in slightly. Jim mirrored his action without realizing it. “Chocolate.”

 

Jim’s bark of laugh was also pleasing. Spock found that he had missed it of late.

 

“You get buzzed on chocolate? Oh man, I would love to see that. I bet you’re… ah.” Jim stopped speaking, hastily adopting a more somber expression. “But you’re not here to talk about that.”

 

“On the contrary. We can discuss anything you wish to discuss.”

 

Jim muttered something into his coffee. He set the mug down and moved his hands to his lap. Spock could hear it as Jim nervously slid his palms against the denim of his jeans.  He had no explanation for his illogical response to the sound.

 

“Spock…” Jim trailed off.  “I don’t quite know how to say this, exactly, without embarrassing you. But… I need to.”

 

Spock nodded, trying not to tense. Clearly his bondmate truly felt he needed to say what was on his mind, and Spock could not deny him. He owed him that much.

 

“I… I’m sorry. I know that isn’t enough, and if I could change what I did to you I would.” Spock opened his mouth, but Jim shook his head. “I need to get this out, okay? I know you weren’t very experienced, and that you had never been intimate with a man before. If I could change... I mean if I could make that different…”

 

“You were not at fault.”

 

“How can you say that? I wouldn’t let you stop! I ordered you to…fuck!”

 

There was a beat of silence. “Technically, Jim you did not order me to ‘fuck’, just to stay still.”

 

Jim’s eyes grew huge.  His mouth dropped open covered it quickly with both of his hands.  It seemed as though he was momentarily incapable of speech- the sound that emerged was a cross between a particularly irate c’hik and the mating call of a haurok.

 

Spock sighed slightly he stood up, moving around the table. His hand a blur of motion, he reached out and grabbed Jim by the waist, bending and lifting him in an instant. There was a startled squeak of sound. Spock held him up for a moment, hardly even winded. “Jim. As you can see, I was more than capable of stopping your advances if I truly wished to.” Jim’s hands drifted from his mouth down to steady himself on Spock’s biceps, looking down at him in shock.  Spock lowered him slowly, keeping several inches between their bodies, not breaking eye contact.  “I did not wish to.” He let go of Jim and moved out of his space, watching him carefully to make sure Jim was not off balance. Indeed, he swayed in place for a moment as his balance was restored.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Indeed. Our bond was not intended by either of us. Yet, I cannot disparage something that allowed me to find you both times you were taken against your will. If anything, I wish that I had not acted on my own desires. I find my own actions reprehensible in light of the fact that you could not truly stop yourself. I still do not know how much of what occurred was the drug that remained in your system and how much was the bond’s instance at being consummated in some way.”

 

Jim rubbed his head again, absently. He reached out and took a drink of coffee.

 

“As to my lack of experience, I will endeavor to do more for your enjoyment, should we ever elect to repeat the encounter.”

 

There was a startled cough and choking sound. Spock heard a muttered, “Again? Really? …Never drinking again.” and hid a smile. Shocking his human was such … fun sometimes.

 

“However, we do have several things that need our attention. I assume you’ve seen the Yeoman?”

 

“Ahhh. No.” Jim had set down his coffee and walked a little away from the table, stripping off his coffee-stained shirt.

 

It was Spock’s turn to look a little flustered as he observed the play of muscle on Jim’s back.  Jim rummaged in his closet and grabbed a full uniform, walking into their shared restroom to quickly change.

 

Spock found himself licking his lips. He shook his head, appalled at his behavior.

 

“I was kind of hoping that we could interview her, together. You know, maybe play good cop, bad cop?”

 

“Indeed.” Spock thought the whisper of fabric against skin in the other room was inordinately loud once one calculated the distance. He gave his head a small shake. He was not acting appropriately. Jim emerged, pulling the gold shirt down over the black undertunic. Spock’s gaze drifted over the clothes that Jim had dropped where he left them after changing. Jim followed his gaze and picked up the jeans, tossing them on the bed, and putting the stained shirt in his laundry basket. The look he gave Spock was quite easy to decipher.

 

“Shall we?”

 

“Um. Yeah. I guess.”

 

Spock’s eyebrow rose. “By the lack of enthusiasm in the inflection in your voice, I can only assume that you truly do not wish to speak to her.”

 

“Yeah.  But it’s kind of my job.”

 

“Indisputably. However, your reluctance is perfectly logical. I am sure that you are aware that two of your childhood friends are currently on the ship. If you would like to perhaps discourse with them- to ‘catch up’, I believe the correct term is—this would not be remiss. I confess I find great satisfaction in Karidian remaining in the brig, awaiting your decision.”

 

Jim turned to look at him, smiling faintly. “Yeah. Her cooling her heels in there is nice. Now if we can only catch her dad.” 

 

Spock felt his features harden. “Indeed.”

 

They took the two steps necessary to cross to the door to Jim’s quarters, shoulders brushing just slightly. Spock’s communicator beeped. “Dr. McCoy to Commander Spock.”

 

“Yes, Doctor?”

 

“I need to see you for a few minutes if you could make the time.”  Spock saw Jim raise his eyebrows, from which Spock surmised that ‘when you could make the time’ truly meant ‘now’.  He raised an eyebrow at Jim, who shook his head, shrugging slightly.

 

“Yes, Doctor. I will be there presently.”

 

“Fantastic. McCoy out.”

 

“It’s kind of nice to hear him take that tone with someone else.” Jim smiled faintly.  “How about this. You go find out what Bones wants, and I’ll go find something to eat. Maybe some caffeine will get rid of this damn headache. I’ll catch up with you in a half an hour.”

 

Spock nodded, and the two parted ways.

 

Sickbay was eerily empty. Usually on a ship this size, there were all manner of medical issues that needed taken care of. Spock saw McCoy’s head pop out of his office.

 

He did not trust the toothy, too-wide smile for an instant.

 

“Commander. So pleased you could make it. Please have a seat.”

 

Spock did, warily.

 

The Doctor’s smile turned, impossibly, even wider. Spock was reminded of a Vulcan ikh’kom right before it eviscerated its prey.  He remembered with sudden clarity each grievance committed against Jim’s person… and how much time and effort this Human had invested in that same person.

 

“When were you planning on telling me that you bonded with him, you green-blooded son of a bitch?”

 

Spock had always despised that particular colorful phrase.

 

“I do not see how that is any of your business.” Spock managed to keep his own emotion out of his voice, but it took effort.

 

“None of my business?!” McCoy stood up and started pacing around the small office, hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. “It took four hours of surgery to repair what that animal did to him! We found fucking slivers of metal inside of him. Don’t even get me started on rebuilding his wrists. It’s not bad enough that the worst thing out of Jim’s nightmares comes back and breaks him, but in the middle of all of this he has to deal with some sort of what? Mental rape?”

 

Spock went cold. Shock was the only thing that kept his hands from around the Human’s throat.

 

“I didn’t even put it all together until I analyzed the readouts on that fucking tricorder. The way his brain patterns changed. The way you two can’t seem to help touching each other. Jim can’t even stand the idea of me touching him anymore, did you know that? I’m his fucking doctor and it’s my job, and every time I even get close to him he tenses like I’m about to hurt him. Hurt him!”

 

Spock was reminded of the mental image of the two of them, writhing together in the Academy dorm room. He gritted his teeth, trying not to hear the words practically crafted to eat away at his control.

 

“Perhaps then, the fault is with your medical practices.”

 

McCoy whirled, fists clenched. He took a step towards Spock and then visibly seemed to restrain himself.  He expelled the air in his chest with a burst of air. “Shit. Shit. This isn’t how I wanted to do this.” He brought his hands up to his temples in a way that reminded Spock starkly of Jim. “Okay. You’re bonded. It’s just… Jim doesn’t have anyone but me. I get… oh goddamn. I’m sorry, Spock. Can you tell me exactly what that means? I need to… understand.”

 

“A bond could never be anything like a rape. To telepathically share that anguish would be…” Spock broke off, horrified by the prospect of even the idea that someone would force that kind of connection on another being. That McCoy could think him capable of forcing Jim.

 

McCoy winced.  “That was a poor choice of words.”

 

Perhaps the understatement of the century.

“But, I would appreciate. . .” McCoy stopped. He crossed back to his desk and sat down. McCoy licked his lips and then forced himself to make eye contact with him. Spock could clearly see that he felt remorse for his angry words.

 

He didn’t particularly care.

 

“Spock. I need to understand this. I know I am probably the last person you want to discuss this with at this point. Let me give you some of the facts. Jim’s brain is human.  What records I could get my hands on were completely null for anything worth reading on the subject, because your parents are the only test subjects. Even someone of your physiological makeup, bonding with a full human could have different effects, but frankly that’s the best I could come up with.  I didn’t think you’d appreciate me mucking about, trying to get Ambassador Serek’s information, so I was hoping that you could enlighten me.”

 

Spock knew his eyebrow rose at the mention of Serek. He would like to see this Human try to get private information from his father.

 

“Most humans are psi-null. There’s an occasional aberration floating out there. Hell, my Gran had a damn uncanny knack for knowin’ when I was stealing her hootch. Whether that was just honed intuition or some latent psychic ability I don’t know. But Jim… has always been slightly abnormal in that way. Well, you probably know his mind better than I could explain it.”

 

Spock gave a terse nod.

 

“This information is my best guess based on just how Jim has changed in the past two weeks. And on your last physical, of course. It isn’t hurting him…. I don’t think. I’d have to get him in here to be sure. But that much telepathic activity slammed into a brain that wasn’t designed for it…”

 

Spock was loathe to discuss his bondmate with this particular man. He and Dr. McCoy had never been friends. He did not see that ever happening at this juncture. Yet, his medical acuity was beyond reproach. If there was even the slightest possibility… Spock’s lips twisted in a tiny frown.

 

“So, how is this going to affect his command? How will it affect yours? Is it just a…”

 

“Security to Commander Spock It’s the Captain! Come to the brig containment immediately!”

 

Spock was jumping up almost before the message had finished. He dimly heard the doctor acknowledging the message as he ran out of the door and out of Sickbay. He didn’t have time for the startled crew members who were trying to get out of his way, gaping at the sight of a Vulcan sprinting down the corridor to the turbolift. He heard McCoy cursing behind him, but keeping up with his pace. They didn’t speak except for the clipped sound of Spock giving the deck number for the brig.

 

The Enterprise had not had much of a chance to use the facilities in the year that it had been commissioned. To date, there had been two crew members sent there to sleep off particularly inappropriate bouts of inebriation, but nothing dire had come up since Karidian was sent there to await the Captain. Was it possible that the containment shield had somehow malfunctioned? How could this concern the captain? Why was Jim even there …without him?

 

The lift doors opened, and Spock and McCoy were running again almost before they slid all the way open.  Spock had dropped his shields… and almost stumbled when he realized that he could not feel Jim. Where Jim should be was… a complete blank.

 

When the doors to the brig opened, they were met with a scene of utter chaos. There was no logic to what he saw, and it took him a moment to actually process the images in his head. Two humans sat in the corner, clutching each other. One male, one female. The female was crying silently, large dark eyes streaming with tears. She alternated between looking terrified at her companion’s raw, oozing burn wounds and looking at the scene behind the containment field.  One crewman in security reds was clearly dead. His body lay slumped against the controls of the station, most of his body burnt away. The smell of cooked flesh was cloying in the small room. Spock could feel his stomach roll.

 

The scene inside the containment field was the most bizarre.  Jim knelt in the center of the small room, situated so that he could see out of the cell. His eyes were enormous in his pale face, hands trembling on his thighs. Spock couldn’t tell if his bondmate was really seeing him or not.

 

Kodos stood behind him, pointing a phaser at his head. Karidian sat on the bunk, swinging her legs back and forth like a child, grinning up at her father; a child besotted.

McCoy cursed and went to the injured human. Spock hadn’t even noticed that he had his medical case with him. He roughly pushed the woman out of the way, working on the younger man with single-minded intensity.

 

Spock did not understand how he could have completely dropped his shields and still could not feel Jim, separated from him by a mere thirteen feet of space.  Kodos’ empty hand trailed over Jim’s hair, sifting through it gently, tangling in the short strands and yanking sharply, baring Jim’s throat.  Jim gasped Spock’s name, the sound strangely loud in the quiet tableau.

 

Spock turned towards the console, noting without surprise that it had taken a phaser blast to the main motherboard, melting wires and components together.

 

“You will not get to us that way.”  Kodos’ voice held amusement, as though Spock were a particularly precocious child who had just done something pleasing.  “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. I have seen you of course. And my darling daughter described you in full detail.” He twisted a little, bending slightly to kiss his daughter on the lips, pulling Jim’s head to an uncomfortable angle.  His fingers scraped lovingly over the faint bruises there. Kodos took a step closer to Jim, tugging him by the hair until he stood.

 

“What is it that you want?” Spock’s voice was tight with fury. The very fact that he was there was completely illogical, yet indisputable.

 

“Want? Well, isn’t that obvious?” Kodos chuckled, turning Jim’s face and kissing him on the lips, as sweetly and chastely as he had just kissed his daughter. Jim, in the process of standing up, flinched and recoiled so hard that he would have fallen over had Kodos not had such a strong grip on his hair.

 

Spock felt a shiver of their bond. Had he been alone, he would have succumbed to the very human gesture of slapping himself in the forehead.  The reason he couldn’t feel Jim was that his human had somehow managed to raise his own shields against his bondmate. There was no time to feel anguish or remorse that Jim would have felt it necessary to do such a thing to protect himself.

 

He heard McCoy ordering something behind him, and was dimly aware of others taking the hurt boy and the dead body out of the small space. “Computer, this is Commander Spock, First Officer of the Enterprise, S 179-276 SP. I hereby relieve Captain James T. Kirk of command duty and take control of this vessel.”

 

There was a dry chuckle from the brig.

 

Spock was completely astounded to hear Jim speak, voice reedy and on the verge of panic. “Spock. Don’t open this cell. Plea—“  A hand came down over Jim’s mouth muffling the rest of his pleas.

 

His hand hovered on the override. “Commander Spock to Lieutenant Scott. Report to the brig immediately.”

 

“Aye, sir.”

 

“Wise decision.” Kodos tossed the phaser to his daughter, and leaned in to kiss Jim again, turning him so that Spock could see the possessive hand on his back, performing.

 

Spock could hear his teeth grinding together as though the sound came to him from some long tunnel. He took a step forward.

 

“Hmmm. I don’t think your Vulcan likes that much.”

 

“Don’t hurt him. Them. You promised.” Jim winced as Kodos leaned in to bite his jaw line, under Jim’s ear.

 

“So I did.”  Kodos leaned in again. He looked over to his daughter who was watching the two of them entranced. “Darling, if he doesn’t respond to my advances, please shoot his friend there.”

 

Spock felt their bond shiver again. He silently urged Jim to break his shields, knowing it was futile. So far Kodos just seemed intent on his performance. Jim was not hurt. Physically.

 

Spock did not understand why Jim did not try to fight either of his captors. Logically, he knew that Jim would be frightened by their presence, but his order to not open the cell had been panicked, worried. Clearly there were other things going on here of which he was not aware.

 

Kodos pulled Jim’s hair back, twisting his hand sharply. Jim cried out, the sound causing Kodos’ breathing to quicken. Spock growled, low in his throat, watching as Jim bit his lip, then submitted to Kodos’ mouth on him, body tense, each muscle quivering as he suppressed his instinct to flee. When he tentatively kissed Kodos back, Spock felt their connection give a lurch, as though Jim’s shields had cracked.

 

“Sir?”  Mr. Scott’s voice was shocked, glance flicking to the scene in the brig quickly before keeping his gaze professionally on his superior officer.

“See what you can do to undo the damage here. I want in that containment cell.”

 

“Aye.” Then muttered, “Aw bugger I dinae ken…” before Scott turned to the mess of a console and begin assessing the repairs.

 

“How long until you can break in?”

 

“Twenty minutes, sir. Fifteen, perhaps. Some of the wiring will have to be bypassed.” Scott already sounded distracted by the puzzle.

 

Spock’s attention was drawn to the way Kodos was rubbing against his bondmate. He took another step forward, feeling the energy from the containment field buzzing along his body, although he did keep a scant inch of space between his skin and the raw energy.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Jimmy, my dear one. Perhaps you should tell your… friend… why that would be a bad idea.”

 

Jim’s voice was like some broken, wingless thing when he finally spoke.  “That disease. He has… something. In here with us. He will use it when someone breaks in. It’s stronger than the other one, more concentrated.”

 

Spock’s eyes widened. If the microbial disease were released in such a small space, in such a pure form, it would ravage Jim, Kodos and Karidian, not to mention anyone else who was in the area before they had a chance to contain it.  It would reign freely through the ship.  He heard a gasp behind him, and McCoy’s muttered curse before the doctor disappeared.

 

“Very good, my love.”

 

Spock noticed Karidian stiffen sharply on her bunk, gripping the phaser with white knuckles.

 

“Yeoman Karidian. Your actions to this point would seem to indicate that you have some affection for the Captain. I find myself surprised that you would allow this behavior. It is clear that he does not wish to be with your father.”

 

Karidian’s eyes flicked to him, then back to her father and Jim when the later made a small pained sound.   Kodos was cupping Jim’s hips, fingers digging into the bones and flesh, marking him.

 

“Computer. Isolate the ventilation system to bypass the brig and surrounding area for at least fifty feet in all directions.” Spock thought quickly. “Commander Spock to commanding bridge officer.”

 

Chekov’s voice was shaky when he responded. “Ensign Chekov, sir.” 

 

“Ensign, start an immediate ship-wide evacuation of non-duty personnel.”

 

His voice sounded very young when he responded, “Yes sir.”

 

“Spock out. Mr. Scott, how long?”

 

“Unknown, sir.”

 

The doors swished open, a winded McCoy stepping in the room, dressed in a containment suit. He threw one to Spock and one to Scott. Spock dressed himself quickly, pacing back and forth in front of the containment field.

 

Kodos looked perturbed for the first time.  “It is of no matter. They will not save you in time. How fitting that we shall die together? They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.”

 

Spock barely had time to flinch before Karidian was firing the phaser.  Jim dove away from both of them, turning and landing hard on his shoulder. Spock could clearly hear the crack as it slammed onto the hard floor.

 

“He said he would love me best.”  Karidian looked down at her father, whose face was frozen forever in the gentle expression of adoration he wore as he had stared down at Jim.  Her voice sounded like a little girl’s, uncomprehending of the evil in the world.  She did not seem to notice the phaser until it smoked in her hand, clearly malfunctioning. She whirled and threw it at the containment field, which buzzed sharply and smoked as it was destroyed. “ME! He said it was me!” Furious she advanced on Jim, who held up a hand as though to ward her off, trying to scramble back out of her reach. He stopped just shy of the containment field. Spock, whose hand was now gloved and protected against the disease, could have touched him by mere inches. Karidian whirled, screaming once, sharply, pulling at her own hair in her grief.

 

“Ten minutes, sir. Less.” Scott whispered under his mask.

 

Karidian fell to her knees besides her father, bending over and kissing his cheeks, closing his eyes and kissing the eyelids. She bent to his mouth last, tongue flicking gently against him. She looked up at Jim who was watching, seemingly unable to process everything that he was seeing. His own breathing was heavy, body starting to curl in on itself as another panic attack took over his rational thought.  Karidian giggled and licked at her lips. Her hand was on her father’s chest, rooting in the pocket.

 

“He tastes of you.” She whispered, grinning manically. She moved her hand quickly, holding up a small vial of black liquid that glinted in the lights of the cell. 

 

“Good bye, Captain.” She whispered, uncorking the vial and drinking it in one swallow.

 

“Jim!” Spock couldn’t help the sound as it ripped from his throat.

 

Jim flipped so that he was as far from Karidian as possible. “No…” he whispered it, as though reality had crashed down on him. “Nonono… no!”

 

He turned frantically locking eyes with Spock.  Karidian made a horrible choking sound.  Her body spasmed twice, blood fairly spraying from her mouth and ears. She closed her eyes, opening them once as a cough shook her body. They were red with blood.  She fell down on the floor, still writhing in pain, black patches already starting to form at her lymph nodes. She curled up by her father, reaching down to clasp his hand.

 

Spock felt his world tilt as Jim’s shields came down. He was bombarded by his bondmate’s fear/rage/terror/regret.

 

“Spock…”  Jim hauled himself up to his knees, trying to breathe shallowly. He held up his hand, hovering right over the containment field, his shattered shoulder rendering his other arm useless.

 

Spock dropped to his knees, mirroring Jim’s position.

 

“Goddamnit get us in there!” McCoy fairly screamed at Scott, who was working furiously. Spock’s own mind was caught in an endless loop of denial, staring only at his bondmate’s eyes. Jim started to cough, eyes streaming tears, faintly pink tinged.

 

‘Spock. I’m… sorry. But you saved the ship’.

 

‘Do not be ridiculous. You must save your strength. Focus on breathing shallowly.’

 

A faint feeling of rueful laughter. ‘I just realized something.’

 

Spock could hear McCoy besides him, readying medical instruments, waiting for the field to come down so he could try to save his friend.

 

‘Tell Bones I’m sorry’.

 

“You will cease talking like that.” ‘You must …’

 

Jim coughed again, wheezing, turning his face into his bicep as though to smother the cough. Spock’s heart gave a funny flutter when he saw the red blood; too much frail, human blood staining his bondmate’s uniform. Small flaky patches began to form on his neck, looking like large bruises.

 

‘Tell him, he’s my best friend. And you. You’re… I… I love you, Spock. God my timing is pathetic. If I were anyone else I would laugh at myself.’

 

Spock heard a sound, a moan of despair, not realizing it was coming from his own throat. Jim’s coughs continued, one after another as his lungs began to shut down. He fell against the containment field, uncaring of his singed flesh, helpless in the throes of his body’s spasms.

 

There was a shout, and a muffled electronical whine as the containment field shut down. Spock sprung forward, seizing Jim as he fell into his arms. Jim was clearly trying to hold his breath, reaching up to touch Spock’s mask.

 

“Love…” 

 

Spock was numb as McCoy shoved him aside, falling on Jim like the proverbial bird of prey, working frantically.

---

THE FINAL CHAPTER....