Disclaimer....yeah,...no
warnings...um some violence a lot of angst, one of my very first stories so....
Are we having fun yet?
It had been a disaster. Hell, it had been worse.
He tried to think, tried to focus but the pain. The pain.
The agony was over whelming. 15 dead. 5 more missing, and among them Sulu and Chekov. The hit had been hard, and it had been cruel and it had been without mercy.
The enemy had stormed the crew on an abandoned planet while they stood out in the open expecting only what they'd been told; that the planet would be safe and devoid of life. Kirk hadn't even realized there was something wrong until the first of them had already fallen, two huge phazor blasts to the chest.
The crew put up a fight. A effort, Kirk was damn proud of. Everyone had surged together phazors drawn they had fought and fired to the last. Kirk had given the order to make it back to the transport location, but it seemed unlikely that anyone could. Kirk had certainly been out manned. Three of the giant ugly praying mantis like things had set upon him, nearly twice his height, any of them could have crushed him where he stood like a bug.
Maybe he wished they had.
A blast from his phazor had taken the eye of one of the beasts and when he thought the other two would finish him off, well something rather fascinating happened. Spock had jumped down from a tree that Kirk would have thought impossible to climb. With his leap down he landed on the head of the first, crushing it's scull, and before Kirk could blink, Spock had already fired directly into the mouth of the second.
Perhaps the most fascinating part of the who thing was the look on Spock's face. His mouth was in tight unmovable line but his eyes the rage that burned there was unmistakable. Never not even during the bridge incident had Spock looked so mindlessly enraged. But Spock never did anything without use of his mind, not then and not now. Even as he felt his comrades, his shipmates, his friends dying around him he had focused on a single goal, his loyalty unwavering, his mission was clear, get The Captain out.
A ship, a crew, a first officer were nothing without a captain to lead them.
But it was too late.
It took two more of the aliens tag-teamed and finally knocked Jim out, it took almost 7 to catch Spock. The rest well, Kirk could only hope that Sulu had rallied Chekov and the other 3 and retreated deeper into the forest.
Not that it would really help Kirk at the moment.
Hanging from the ceiling against the coldest foulest smelling rock wall Kirk had ever encountered, wasn't really a great situation. The medieval shackles on his wrists and ankles weren't really helping.
He had no idea how long he'd been here, or where here was but he knew that were ever here was, it hurt. Kirk tried to twist his head to get a view of something other than the blank cave wall across from him and nearly passed back into the oblivion from the pain it caused in his head.
Much slower this time he twisted. Barely half a centimeter at a time, it hurt but it was movement. Then he saw Spock.
The Vulcan looked much the worse for wear. Far worse Kirk knew then he, himself was, and he need no more to prove this then the fact Spock was still unconscious. Spock was at times a machine capable of handling pain like no one else, Kirk was no light weight but in the contest of "Mercy' even he had to admit that he wasn't even in the same league.
Spock was so pale that he was almost white, save for the deep green blood that covered almost all of the left side of his face and dripped down his shackled arms. Kirk swore into the darkness long and creatively.
It was only a few minutes later that Spock started to come around. Kirk knew this because of the sudden jingling of chains. Slowly and painfully he turned his head towards his first officer once more.
Spock's beautiful deep mahogany brown eyes were glazed and his face seemed if was possible paler.
"How's it hangin' Spock?' Kirk threw the joke out and nearly fell into a fit of hysterics, he didn't because the pain of merely chuckling sent his rips protesting and his lungs in a fiery rage.
Spock blinked once more and turned to face Jim. From this angle Spock looked worse and Jim felt hatred rise in him so quickly it made him see red, as fast as it came though, it faded to a dull thudding pulse in the back of his brain and sorrow took over once more.
Taking stock Jim noted that not only was blood soaking part of his face but Spock also had a bruise forming on his right eye and that a small piece of an ear that had been sliced out.
Spock seem to think forever about his reply before simply saying " If this is what you, and Dr. Leonard McCoy are constantly referring to when you use the terminology 'hanging out' then, I am curious then as to why you seem to find it so enjoyable…I, myself, find very little appeal, in that it is rather painful and very cold."
Jim couldn't help but chuckle a little at his first officer's attempt at humor. Who said Vulcans couldn't tell jokes. Everyone else might be oblivious to his subtle inflections of emotion but Jim had learned to read him like a book. Probably one only slightly more complicated and nuanced then a book of Shakespeare meets astrophysics.
Spock blinked again "I must admit captain that I am much relieved by your survival, The probability of such an outcome was not in your favor…"
Jim smirked. "Well, that's hardly my fault, this wasn't exactly what I was planning on when I suggested a little planet side time…with my luck though, I should have guessed…," now dead crew member faces flashed past his eyes and he wanted so badly to cry, to break down and hit something anything, to scream to rage to grieve and preferably tear the sons of bitches who did this to shreds. But none of those things would help the dead and they sure as hell would help Spock, who was still alive and really didn't need to witness a human melt down of epic per portions. So he swallowed it and concentrated on Spock's breathing, when he could, he opened his eyes and looked at Spock's, who was calm, focused and in his small way, in the best way, loyally waiting for his captain.
Jim swore out loud again,
They were quiet for a time before Spock spoke "This is not your fault Captain, their passing is not your burden …The chances of these series of events without the necessary data were next to negligible, unless you have developed significant prescient or future divining abilities there no possible way for you to have known that this would be anything other than "a great deal of fun…"." Spock paused and then considered his captain. "Captain…"
"Jim Spock…Jim…when we hang together like this it's Jim or I'm not talking to you…"
"Jim…I know there is nothing I am able to say that will sway yourself blame, or grief, but perhaps I may be able to convince you of the logic that you will honor them best by living to speak of them…"
Jim thought about it. Nodded and inwardly turned from his emotions. He knew control, his abusive child hood had at the very least taught him that, how to turn off a single necessary emotion until the time that it wouldn't result in a beating. So he looked at Spock and he did what he did best, he bull-shited his light hearted attitude. "All probability for being a great deal of fun?…Say Spock, "
Jim's blue eyes narrowed and turned icy even as he smiled that killer grin "are we having fun yet?"
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