Oh hello there my beautiful, lovely, trusting darlings!
I am so sorry for how late this chapter is! There were a lot of wonderful and amazing ideas given to me and my own brain was trying to figure out where I wanted to go with this couple and I ended up rewriting this chapter about 12 times. And that's not exaggeration.
But I do hope tis makes up for it and hopefully I'll get another chapter out very, very soon, depending on how well ya'll like it.
Warnings: Remember, I'm just playing around with all of this. The characters are not mine, the practices, history, and explanation of some things is all fiction and may not comply with cannon, so please no outrageously flaming comments. I'm tying my best. :)
Please enjoy! :)
The beast of the Ancient drives was the embodiment of passions, both shameful and intimate, and it was the suppressions of these emotions at a young age which, in the minds of all Vulcans and males even more so, which lead to a split in the personalities. It seemed that they were constantly tempted by the voices and images their minds fabricated as their control fortified itself against its vices.
And it was this very beast that now mindlessly sought out it's craving, meshing it's entity with Spock's like a braid of emotion and want twined with the conscious. It was only the unacceptance which had led to separate entity, and in the sudden lapse of judgment due to the delirious blood fever, Spock had allowed this monster to fill his skin and sate his unconscious desires.
Now, Spock wasn't a mindless creature under the influence of his baser being. His systematic Vulcan training might have been stripped but his lovely bleeding heart of his human-self still reigned in the heady needs that drove him to stalk through the halls of the Enterprise, towards the delicious scent of his intended that tainted the air in small whiffs and sudden lungfuls in places where Jim had lingered. There was a certain clear headedness that accompanied the urge to protect, claim, tend to, care for, almost like he was freshly poured cast iron, hot and malleable, being dipped in the cold water to steam and set properly. His body was useful and controlled as he deeply inhaled and turned the corner following the ripe scent, his tongue wetting his lips as he if he could taste his beloved's skin on the air.
But this thread of humanity was still a small force compared to the hormones driving the blood and mind, and the beast in him rolled his shoulders, squaring them, held his head high, and gave the semblance of pride, power, and possessiveness in his limbs as he lead the hunt for his mate, closing in on the familiar Sick Bay corridor.
The air was thick, saturated with liquid disinfectants and sterilized metal, but most of all, the rancid, older, strong smell of another male, un-bonded, tainted the air as he scented anxiously. Spock's lips curled in a toothy growl as his mind flashed memories of Leonard H. McCoy behind his eyes with heated, frenzied jealousy. A part of him tried to smooth the ruffled feathers with the thoughts of the doctor's young daughter and previous marriage to a woman, meaning he would not deviate from the female touch, but the wild, selfish part of him kept thinking about Jim's bright eyes and tender smile as he held the few children which had found home in the ship on the way to delegations and foster homes, the voice cooing that Jim would make a wonderful mate with children, meaning the doctor might steal him.
'Stop.' Spock pleaded as he filed away the mistrustfulness the best he could. 'The doctor can help, seek him out.' He felt a snarl curling roughly in his throat, his chest boiling and winded as he tried to keep some semblance of clear headedness. 'Pease. Speak with him. He can give us what we need.'
-Page Break-
The brandy was a smooth burn on the back of Jim's throat, the first and only taste he allowed for the day, and with a half-smile he nodded his thanks to his doctor.
"You always know what I need, Bones." He sighed gently, as if he was expending energy on other thoughts.
Leonard McCoy was perceptive in all things Kirk and picked up on his avoidance with a sharp glint of worry in his tired eyes.
But instead of broaching the subject directly, he simply scratched the scruff of his neck with a sandpapery sound and answered after he took another swig of his own liquid courage. "Well, I'd hope after all these years I know what to prescribe. Though I still don't have a fix for a rainy day." The silence that answered him sat thickly over Jim's drooping shoulders and bowed head, his fingers wiping slowly, methodically, at the wet droplets on the glass. "Or a broken heart." McCoy confessed lowly, dropping his gaze to catch his friend's as the Captain's shocked blue eyes flashed self-consciously.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that you've been moping about my sick bay on most of your time off the bridge." His grousing was deep and a bit course with the natural southern drawl, his eye brows rising questioningly at Jim to let him know he was fooling no one. "Now I know Spock has-"
"Why does this have to be about him?" Jim accused as he stood, voice rising a bit indigently as he continued, "Nothing is wrong, can't I just come to see you? Is that a crime!?"
"Oh quit your drama; I know you're sulking over him. And don't even start your pacing, you're gonna make me antsy." Bones doused back another shot of the brandy and then pointed a firm finger at his friend. "You're in love and it's bothering you."
Jim shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared Bones down with a hard, well-practiced Captain's bluff.
"You can't read me as well as you'd like to think." Kirk quipped, hoping it stung as much as his heart did with the thought that he was being so obvious about his adoration for his First Officer that Bones had noticed.
"Sorry to bust your bubble princess but you've been an open book since the first year at the academy. And I've been married, raised a daughter, I know what heart break looks like." Jim suddenly wondered if Bones saw that expression in the mirror too, the one of hopelessness, loathing self-worth, and disgust. Maybe that's how Bones knew how to find it. "It's written on you as plain as the antenna on an Andorian." He spoke the last part of his sentence muffled into his glass as he took one last swig, cringing at the bitter taste suddenly as if the alcohol was finally kicking in.
James Kirk simply looked on in a fine impersonation of impassive Vulcan exterior, the facade lasting for a strong beat of a moment before he dropped into his chair, his heavy head resting in his hands.
"It's not that easy Bones; this isn't just some crush that'll go away with a one night fling." His tone seemed mournful, pining almost as if his very soul was saddened at the thought of loving another being this earnestly. His fingers deftly smoothed over the silver chain hanging at his throat, catching the pendent in a gesture of comfort. The cold of the infinity symbol calmed him, the volcanic gem hanging from its upper loop resting heavily on his chest. "If I mess this one up, I'll feel like I've failed everything." Jim remembered the tender hazel eyes in the meld with Spock Prime, the depth of adoration and friendship staggering, encompassing an obscene amount of pure love that he felt down to his marrow in warm, blissful waves. All it took was one glance and smile from Kirk Prime and Spock had known he was adored.
And in turn, he felt the pleasure of acceptance from Spock, how it was to be cherished after a long, lonely life of an outcast in two societies, to feel unworthy to a bond mate who had shunned and turned her back on him in his greatest time of need. And a simple look from his Captain was all he had needed to feel at home.
Selfishly, Jim wanted to have that kind of intimate attention focused solely on himself, but another, greater part of him wanted to be the only one who made Spock feel that deeply, to be the one who sparked in him the passion of affection and acceptance, simple and pure.
His Prime had done so naturally and their counterparts had loved deeply for many years, he could feel it in the pain of Spock Prime's longing for his bond mate.
But Jim hadn't the slightest clue how to find that kind of connection, especially with a man who had recently began to shy away from him as if Jim was the very pain in his life.
"Jim," The doctor's gruff voice jolted him, Jim's hand pulling back to rest in his ruffled bangs. "Jim boy, look, I don't know what's been up and I don't have a clue about his Vulcan sensibilities, but that," His eyes darted to the necklace that shimmered over Jim's black undershirt. "Is special. Tradition isn't something that humans hold in high priorities but Vulcan's take that stuff seriously."
"I know, I know." He groaned as he pressed the heels of his palms of his eyes, a headache nipping at his patience, the alcohol buzzing in the back of his skull like an in between radio station. "I'm just…" The word hung unspoken, but Bones knew what Jim meant.
'Afraid. Worried. Nervous.' As he took another sip from his glass, the doctor gave Jim a once over and cracked a broken smile, slowly letting himself feel the door of sobriety creak open. 'The kid has a power balance issue. He needs to let go and do what he does best. TRY.'
"Go to bed Jim." He reasoned as he snatched the glass tumbler from Jim's trembling hand. "Worry about all of this tomorrow. I know you probably don't want to spend your first day of shore leave fixing trouble in paradise but it has to be done."
The blonde nodded, unable to bring himself to catch the parental sheen in McCoy's eyes, their glazed depths holding a sharpness that he wasn't used to after a childhood of questionable father figures. The two stood together then, Jim's back stiff although his legs and head felt loose, catching himself from pitching forward onto Leonard's desk.
"Ya." Was all Jim could say, nodding as he walked himself to the door, raising his gaze as the door swished open before him, revealing the dark robes and golden Vulcan script that detailed them. "Spock?"
But the man's dark eyes didn't look at Jim.
Instead, they were fixed on McCoy, dark and blazing as he stood taller, chest rising as he took a breath and wet his lips in an unusual show of human nervousness. "I must speak with you." Spock's voice made Jim shudder with its timbre, a tinge of worry lighting in Kirk as he watched the muscles in Spock's throat click and strain, as if he was trying not to grind his teeth, or hold back something. Jim wanted to place a hand on Spock's shoulder and look him in the eyes, wanted to say anything that would make it, whatever it was, ok.
"Spock, I have something to-"
"Alone." The Vulcan emphasized as Jim stood frozen in front of him mouth caught on the last part of his confession, his throat dry as if the air had been sucked from the room.
Jim's captain training flooded his already spiked system, making him feel hot blooded and bold as he fought not to reprimand Spock for such rude behavior, but it was Leonard's strident glance at the door, silently dismissing Jim with the usual, 'Let me handle it, I'll talk to you later' implications coloring his express that silenced Jim.
The doors locked behind him, leaving an oddly empty, ringing sound in the sparse halls, Jim's addled thoughts echoing loudly in his jumbled brain as he tried to shake the abhorrent feeling of being ignored. 'Why doesn't he come to me with his problems?' Jim wondered as he slowly let his feet lead him to his quarters, bunching his fingers into fists at his sides and hen releasing them, trying to quell the loud, obstructive bubbling of his uselessness. 'I want to be….'
What exactly?
There for him?
Useful?
Wanted?
The last thought throbbed in him, haunting the empty pieces of his being, and awoke a yearning that sparked in him at the remembrance of a slight, knowing smile and deft, warm fingers on his meld points. Jim swallowed stoically then and assuredly steadied his steps as he opened his door and hastily opened his Video unit, fingers nervously tapping on the chair arm as he straightened his posture, hoping he looked somewhat presentable.
Then, as if a candle had been lit, bright, steady, and warm, the call was answered.
"Jim," The age ravaged voice smiled, eyes catching the glinting overhead light that made the infinity necklace twinkle, and Kirk tried hard not to openly cry at how wonderful it was to be looked at with such adoration. "It is a pleasure to see you."
Oooh, looks like the boys are going to avoid each other and look for compensation in others. (I wonder where that's going to lead?)
Tell me what you guys think!
I want to thank those who reviewed so far, it's your persistence that put my faith back into continuing this piece! I'm going to include all of your ideas in the next few chapters so keep a sharp eye out! Tell me whatever you want to see happen in the story and I'm sure I'll be able to work it into the plot. :) Love ya'll!
You're loyal author and writer,
Castion and Clockwork
