AN: That's it, I give up. This chapter just doesn't want to be written in any shape way or form. As much as I hate it, I couldn't leave you guys hanging so here it is in all it's crappiness. I'll probably end up scraping the whole thing at some point and re-doing it but at this point, this is what is. Hope you guys enjoy it none the less and I promise that the next two chapters are much, much better. My plan is to post one a week to give me time to go over them and such. Sorry again about this one.

Part 2

Desert and copper-spice: it surrounded him like a warm blanket. He wanted to bury himself in it. Fold in around him and never let it go. It was a relief from the consent ache, from the horrible wanting. He'd dreamed of this for so long that he could hardly believe it was true now…even if getting it was at the cost of his life.

"Captain, hold still." There was a sense of urgency in that voice that Jim wasn't used to hearing, an undertone of fear. Why was Spock afraid?

A sudden, jarring movement as Spock shielded him against a blast, dust and debris falling over them, caused pain to lace upwards from his torso like an electrical shot. Jim cried out, biting down on his lip in an attempt to keep the cry muffled, his hand instinctively reaching out and clutching the one Spock had placed over his wound.

"Shit," Jim muttered as Spock lifted his head, still shielding Jim even as he tried to peer around the corner of the boulder they were currently hidden behind. "What the fuck is going on?" His awareness was slowly coming back, but he was still foggy on the details.

"The Gahbrogal are not as they had first appeared, Captain," Spock quickly explained, ripping off part of the sleeve of his science uniform before pressing the fabric against Jim's wound, attempting to stanch the blood flow.

"No shit," Jim bit his lip again and winced, trying to ignore the strength he could feel vibrating in the arm Spock had wrapped around him, holding him prisoner against the Vulcan's chest. Now was most definitely not the time for that.

"Ensign Bowen and yourself were beginning to show signs of telepathic manipulation. When I endeavoured to interfere, the Gahbrogal perceived me as a threat and attempted to eliminate me," Spock was focused on his wound, probably trying to assess how bad it was.

"Yeah, that I remember," and he wasn't likely to forget anytime soon. The last couple of hours since they'd beamed down to the planet were a bit of a blur to him, most likely due to the Gahbrogal influence as Spock had said, but that one thing he remembered quite clearly. The Gahbrogal's dismissal of Spock, agreeing to get rid of him as if he were nothing more than a bug that needed to be squashed was an image he was sure was carved into his retina. Then the phaser levelled at Spock's stomach, aimed to kill. The image still caused Jim to shiver. Then he realized it wasn't just his mental pictures that were causing him to shake.

Spock noticed as well and his communicator was suddenly in hand, his voice urgent as he talked with Scotty. Jim frowned slightly. When had he pulled that out?

"Commader, we're having a bit of trouble gettin' a lock on ya. Hold tight for a sec. We'll have ya outa there as soon as we can."

"Have Dr. McCoy standing by. The Captain's injuries are more severe then I originally thought." As if the prove Spock's point, Jim was beginning to feel more than a little light-headed ad he could barely keep his eyes open. He barely even flinched as another energy discharge slammed into the boulder, debris missing them by mere inches.

"Where's Ensign Bowen?" Jim muttered, trying to keep himself focused, but he didn't think he was having much luck. The tightness around Spock's eyes was more telling then he was sure the Vulcan would care to admit.

"Dead," he said softly, hoisting Jim up more firmly against his chest in order to keep better pressure on his wound. Jim bit his lip in agony, unable to prevent a hiss from escaping from his clenched lips. "He was murdered after the Ghabrogal lost control over you." His head was bent down next to Jim's ear, his breath brushing against the sensitive skin there.

Jim clenched his eyes shut and tried to focus on nothing but his breathing. They were in hostile territory for Christ's sake, he was injured and who knew if the Enterprise was going to be able to get them out of this and yet all he could think of was how good if felt to have Spock's arms around him, to feel that unnaturally warm breath ghosting against his skin…

"Jim, hold on," the urgency in Spock's voice cause Jim to snap his eyes open, realizing as he did so that he'd closed them and had been slowly falling from Spock's grasp as his body went slack.

"Sorry," he said, though it came out more as a slur. Spock's arms clenched around him and he leaned forward, firing off a few phaser blasts before flicking his eyes quickly down at Jim's wound. Jim looked down as well, for the first time realizing just how much blood he was losing. His uniform was almost completely soaked with it and both his and Spock's hands were coated with the sticky substance.

Spock adjusted the bit of fabric over the wound, the science blue almost completely obscured by blood. A cursory glance at Spock's own blood stained uniform told Jim more than he really wanted to know. How long ago had he been injured? How far had Spock had to drag him, firing against their enemy and covering them before being able to tend to his wound and contact the Enterprise? Even now they were still in danger, though the boulder gave them some protection.

"This isn't good, is it?"

Spock didn't bother answering, but the look in those dark eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Commander Spock. We've gotta lock. Hold on tight!" Scotty's voice broke through their silent communication and within seconds the scenery around them melted away and the Enterprise transporter room shimmered into view.

"Jesus!" a voice exclaimed and then McCoy was there, moving his hands quickly to press a large wad of bandages against Jim's wound.

Jim was still held securely against Spock's chest and he sagged back against it, his head lolling to the side as his strength failed him.

"Jim! Dammit kid, don't you quit on me now!" McCoy's hand was on his face, moving his head back to get his attention.

Jim's eyes fluttered for a second and then focused on McCoy, clearly reading the concern there, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

"'m cold, Bones," he said, though his voice came out hardly louder than a whispered.

"Shit," McCoy muttered before swivelling around to glare at someone over his shoulder. "Get the OR prepped for surgery and call M'Benga and have him get scrubbed up. Now!" There was a scurry of movement, but Jim paid it little attention, to focused he was on the fact that Spock was still holding his hand.

"We need to get him to sickbay."

Jim's awareness was pretty shot by that point, but he was pretty sure Bones hadn't meant for Spock to carry him. However he didn't find anything wrong with that situation as he found himself firmly tucked up against the Vulcan's chest, his abdominal secured in an iron grip to keep it from moving and his knees folded a pressed against Spock's arm.

He sighed, his head resting just where Spock's neck and shoulder connected, and even though he knew thing were bad, he couldn't bring himself to care. He sighed again as his eyes closed. Spock was so warm…

***

This wasn't good. Jim was losing a lot of blood and at the moment he couldn't tell where it was coming from. Obviously something had ruptured, but it was all such a mess that he couldn't tell if it was the boy's liver, stomach, kidneys or another other number of organs.

Shit kid, what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time.

Even as he thought it, McCoy firmly pushed it from his mind. He'd seen Jim Kirk through many different kinds of injuries before, some even worse then this, and he wasn't about to let the kid check out on him now…especially considering the Vulcan that had made himself a permanent fixture against the wall of his sickbay.

M'Benga was keeping pressure against the wound and so McCoy quickly reached up to Jim's neck, trusting his own fingers over the machines currently around them.

"He's having difficulties moving air. Let's bag him." A nurse quickly scurried to do his bidding and he moved down to the abdominal wound, M'Benga carefully removing the fabric. More blood poured from the wound and McCoy cursed.

"Get four units of blood stat. We'll start with a liter bolus and watch his blood pressure. The last thing we need is to overload him with fluids his organs can process."

He pressed down carefully around the wound, thankful that there weren't any broken ribs. It meant that at least his lungs and heart hadn't suffered from the injury. Whatever had hit him impacted just below the rib cage. Any higher and either his lungs would have been punctured or his heart. Sparing a quick glance at Spock, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The position of the wound told him all he needed to know about how Jim had received it and he couldn't say he was surprised.

"I've got suction going," M'Benga confirmed, carefully clearing the blood from the wound so that they could see exactly what they were dealing with. As the blood clearly, McCoy cursed.

"Nicked his liver," he muttered to himself.

Nurse Chapel appeared at his left side. "OR's prepped and ready to go."

"Okay," McCoy muttered as M'Benga replaced the old bandage with a fresh on, preparing to wheel Jim into the OR for surgery.

"Doctor McCoy?" Spock questioned and McCoy sighed turned towards the Vulcan. He looked a right mess, covered in Jim's blood, but what really drew his attention was the eyes. Since when had Spock's eyes ever been so pinched?

"I don't know yet, Spock." He said, moving towards the Commander. "Right now it could go either way. He's lost a lot of blood, and that's what's got me worried right now. His liver I can repair, but if I can't get the bleed stopped and his blood pressure up…" he left the sentence hanging, sure that Spock understood.

The Vulcan nodded, his gaze suddenly riveted to the floor. "When you know anything more, please have me informed," and with that said he quickly made his way out of sickbay.

McCoy stared after him in utter confusion. Over the past few months, Jim and Spock had grow closer and it wasn't unheard of for one to practically be glued to the others side when one was injured. The relationship annoyed McCoy to no end as he couldn't understand it at all. Spock had marooned Jim on Delta Vega and then tried to kill him. His friends' sudden acceptance of the Vulcan had been more than confusing.

Not nearly as confusing as Spock's sudden dash from sickbay, however. The Vulcan had been acting strange since he'd transport back up to the ship. Unfortunately he couldn't take the time to figure it out now. He had a reckless Captain to tend to.

tbc...