Chapter One
I know I should be updating my other fic but I had Spirk feels, so here you go.
I don't own Star Trek, it just snuck up on me and took over my life.
It was well into the second year of their five year mission that something decided to go completely, as Scotty had put it 'tits up'. Jim would look back and mention that it was a testament to their skills as a good crew that it had taken that long for something to go so wrong. However, at the time Jim was rather less pleased about the situation.
It started as a relatively straight forward mission, a party made up of science officers and security going down to the surface of what was currently an unclassified planet to collect information on the plants, atmosphere and if possible the inhabitants of the area. They had gone down in two shuttles as there was constant interference to their transport and communications because of the strange, milky thick fog that hung over the planet's surface. Spock scanned it, but there were no harmful readings. The teams removed their helmets and began spreading out with scanners, taking samples.
Jim moved to stand next to Spock.
"This fog is weird," he said, looking down at his ankles which were submerged in it. "Can we take samples?"
Spock nodded.
"I believe we can, but whether we can successfully study those samples in the science laboratory of the Enterprise is questionable. It may require more sophisticated equipment than that which we have on board."
Jim ran a hand through his hair, shifting uncomfortably in the environmental suit he wore. Spock too found the suit to be rather constricting, but refused to show any discomfort.
"Right. Take a few samples then, we can try it on the Enterprise and then if it doesn't work, take it to a lab. I want to know why it's fucking with our equipment."
Spock's lips thinned fractionally. The Captain was an exuberant man physically and his words commanded just as much strength. Spock personally found his constant use of bad language to be rather distasteful, but said nothing. They had become friends in a way after the events of Khan, but there was a strange chasm of silence between them and Spock did not have the slightest idea as to how to go about bridging that gap - and whether it would even be wise to. Jim Kirk was an enigma to most, and while they were friends, Spock did not count himself as an exception to this rule. Jim Kirk's files were sealed, and classified, and Spock found that he followed his human intuition in that maybe what was in those files were not for anyone's eyes but Jim's.
Jim was watching the teams with tension held in his shoulders, blue eyes flicking around the area and then to the scanner he held.
"I'm get some weird readings- shit. Lifeforms, heading straight for us."
Jim put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.
"Everyone take the samples and get back on the shuttles. We've managed to keep to the prime directive so far, let's not break our streak."
Jim's hand jumped towards his communicator instinctively and then dropped back down. They had no communications with the Enterprise.
Strange, guttural shouts rustled through the trees, muffled by the fog. The shuttle coughed, shuddered and finally started up. The pilot waved at Jim and Spock insistently.
"No, we'll take the other shuttle. We might be able to observe the locals without being seen."
The shuttle hummed and shot into the sky. Jim grasped Spock's arm and they melted back into the trees, using the thickening fog to hide themselves in. Jim pulled on his helmet so he could speak to Spock through the comms and not be heard out loud. Spock followed suit.
"I am pleased you acted accordingly to adhere to the prime directive."
Jim chuckled.
"Hey, I'm just glad you didn't jump into a volcano so I had to break it to save your life - oh wait, didn't that happen one time?"
Spock rose an eyebrow, his eyes scanning the clearing that they had vacated.
"Captain, it will take the shuttle approximately three days to return to the Enterprise as they have to fight against the interference to fly."
"Yup."
"I am advising caution in observing the aliens, Captain."
Jim nodded. He wasn't overly worried, they had hidden their other shuttle a few miles away and he wasn't planning on staying on the planet for any longer than he had to. The fog was creeping him out, no matter how many times Spock said that it was safe.
The aliens reached the clearing, and Jim shrunk back automatically. They were humanoid, but reptilian with bronze scales coating their bodies and thick tails dragging on the floor. They held primitive weaponry, bows, axes and swords. Jim knew that Spock was cataloguing all these things in that huge brain of his. The biggest of the aliens, presumably the leader, licked his eyes with a long tongue and barked out something else in their language. Jim recorded the sounds through his helmet to turn over to Uhura when they got back.
The leader's small eyes ran over the trees in which they were hidden. Jim swallowed.
"I think we should maybe, very slowly try and get back to the shuttle."
"I concur, Captain."
"I do have a name, you know."
"I am perfectly aware of your name, Captain."
Jim ground his teeth and dropped to his haunches, shuffling awkwardly deeper into the trees. Spock followed him, his movements more graceful. Jim couldn't help wondering whether staying behind had actually been a really stupid idea. On instinct he looked back, and saw one of the aliens holding a drawn bow, the string trembling and tight. Jim crashed into Spock, sending them both falling flat to the floor. An arrow thunked into a tree in front of them, oozing a pale green liquid.
"Fascinating," Spock said, "They appear to have evolved sufficiently to use the poisonous resources at their disposal to improve their weaponry."
Jim rolled his eyes.
"Fucking fascinating, Spock. Do you think we could make a run for it to the shuttle, or are you going to wait and see what the affects of their poisons are on you, or me?"
"Apologies, Captain. I believe heading for the shuttle is the best course of action."
Jim poked his head out of the fog and then jerked Spock to his feet.
"Run."
Giving up all semblance of stealth, Jim crashed through the trees, Spock right behind him. He knew that Spock could run faster than he, but out of some misguided attempt to follow the chain of command, was dutifully keeping pace behind his superior officer. Jim wondered if all vulcans were this weird or if Spock was just extra special 'cos he was also half human.
Jim decided these thoughts could wait until later, as a dart narrowly missed his leg and embedding itself into the fog covered ground. The fog was making it hard to keep up any real speed, as Jim kept tripping over tree roots and rocks and he was sure that Spock had nearly crashed into the back of him more than once.
A bizarre, aching sound of a horn being blown thundered through the air.
"Fuck...don't...want...more aliens...hunting us." Jim huffed out, ducking under a branch and scrambling to keep himself upright as he nearly toppled over a fallen tree.
"I think-" Spock took in a controlled breath, "that was-" another breath, "a signal that indicated our presence."
"No shit." Jim panted.
They were not far from the shuttle when Spock reached out and grabbed Jim round his neck, choking him to a stop and crashing his back against Spock's chest. Then he saw what Spock saw.
The shuttle was...on fire. A bit. A lot. Surrounded by chanting aliens, the metal of the shuttle was bending and buckling in ways that it shouldn't have.
"Goddamnshitfuckbollocksasshole." Jim muttered. Spock could not help privately agreeing with Jim's accurate, if rather not very eloquently phrased statement. They stayed in the trees, unmoving. Both trying to figure out what to do.
"I think we should attempt to get out of the immediate vicinity of the hostile aliens." Spock offered. Jim nodded.
"Yup. Chekov mentioned that the fog was thinner on higher ground. We should head up, see if we can get some sort of signal to the Enterprise."
The pair slunk away from their burning shuttle and towards the gently sloping paths that promised a way to higher ground. Hopefully.
Jim was thankful for the bags on their backs that held water and rations in case of emergencies, and though his mouth was try he dared not drink anything. It would be at least three days until they realised there was anything wrong, and even then they might not realise because Jim had said they were going to observe the aliens before coming back. He was an idiot.
Jim shook his head to try and dislodge his confused thoughts. There was a heavy ache pressing against his skull and he pressed one hand to his helmeted head.
"Captain, are you alright?"
Jim glanced over his shoulder. Spock seemed to be finding Jim's steady place too slow, but Jim couldn't walk any faster. He felt odd, light headed and as he found this he stumbled, almost cracking his head open on a rock. Spock caught him before he could feel, looping his arms under Jim's waist and holding him upright.
"Captain?"
"I don't know...I feel-" Jim had just enough time to remove his helmet and throw up violently into the undergrowth. He came up with his face pale and his body was shaking.
Spock began feeling insistently at Jim's suit (surely there was some regulation about having his First Officer feeling him up?) and jerked out a small dart from the base of Jim's spine. There was worry in his dark eyes, and Jim looked at the floor.
"I do not know of this poison." Spock said, examining the liquid carefully, and scanning it, "it is not made of any known plants on record."
Jim threw up again.
"Peachy."
He took the water offered by Spock and rinsed out his mouth, spitting it out onto the floor and then looking at the spit with a small amount of fear.
It was dark with blood.
Spock's voice was low. "I believe the poison has caused something in your body to...to have hemorrhaged."
"Yay for internal bleeding." Jim muttered. Then he was sick again, narrowly missing his own boots. It was dark with fresh blood, and Spock's brow wrinkled.
"We should keep moving, Captain." His voice was calm, betraying nothing of the fear that had lodged itself in his stomach. Jim looked awful, and he felt guilty that he had not noticed the way his feet had begun to drag in the dirt, the way his breathing had become heavier, taking effort.
Jim rolled his eyes at the use of his rank but let Spock support him as they walked slowly. Too slowly. The warmth of Spock's arm against his back gave him strength as they carried on, the fog now thick up to his waist.
By the time that night fell, the only thing keeping Jim upright was Spock's strong arm around his waist, practically dragging him along. But even Spock could not hold Jim's weight forever, and he insisted that they made camp.
"I believe we are well out of the way of the native species. It should be safe for you to remove your suit so I can examine your injury,"
Jim released the seals of his suit with a sigh, and allowed Spock to help him peel it off to reveal the tight black under-layer. Spock pulled up the back of the shirt, urging Jim to lie on his front. The dirt smelt sweet under his nose.
Spock's hands were warm and soft against the trembling skin of his back.
"If you do not mind, I would like to use surface touch telepathy to examine you more thoroughly. It will also help me to avoid hurting you."
Jim nodded. Spock's hands ghosted over the base of his spine, and any time Jim's muscles tensed the touch receded, became more gentle. After a while, Spock helped him back into his suit and pulled out a medical bag from the rucksack on his back.
"I don't know whether this will help," he said, and jabbed Jim in the neck with a hypospray, "But it may alleviate the symptoms."
Jim propped himself up against a tree and munched tiredly on a ration bar. His head felt awful.
"I'm still dying though, right?"
Spock's nod was strained. Jim sighed and closed his eyes, allowing Spock to scan with with the tricorder.
"You...you have bleeding in your brain, Captain."
Jim swallowed.
"How long?"
Spock slumped against a tree trunk himself, and placed the tricorder on the floor. He looked into Jim's blue eyes, dulled from the pain and allowed himself to feel the tremor of emotion that threatened to engulf him.
"I do not know."