Sorry! This one was a little longer in the works than anticipated. Still, it's up now! I've got two other stories beginning, but I'm trying to work out the storylines before I start posting. Will probably save us all some time in the long run.

Chapter 13

The travel back to Starfleet Headquarters was fairly uneventful, barring Bones' tracking down his two main patients and locking them away in Sickbay for at least an hour each day, running test after test in an attempt to see what was going on with them.

Jim was going back and forth between annoyed and relieved—the time in Sickbay consisted of relative peace and time well away from Darnell and his bodyguards. However, it also tended to involve at least one round of hyposprays. Spock was… Spock.

One day out from Earth, Bones growled and threw the latest datapad across his desk in disgust, the clatter drawing his patients' attention.

"What's up, Bones?"

"Damn it, the both of you!" Like every other test he had run, the results told him nothing he hadn't learned in the first few days.

And it was all too clear that any attempt to separate the two would be devastating to both, at the very least. Maybe outright fatal.

The thought made him bite his lip, too anxious to quell the impulse. It was almost certain, from the way the two had reacted to simple separation, that a breaking of their bond would be fatal to both.

And that—that was a thought he hated, moreso because he couldn't do anything about it. Despite every test he had run, he hadn't learned any medical way to deal with it. Everything he'd learned only reinforced his belief.

"Get out of here, both of you," McCoy snapped, covering upset with irritation. "I'll track you down later."

xxxx

"I think he's figured it out," Jim stated.

"I believe you are correct," Spock murmured, considering what he'd sensed from the doctor before being rather unceremoniously banished from Sickbay.

Neither of them had said anything aloud (or even silently) to each other, but both of them knew, and knew the other was aware as well.

"So," Jim glanced sideways at his bondmate, "We should probably talk about it sooner or later."

"Indeed."

"… what happens if one of us dies and the other doesn't?"

Spock hesitated, taken by surprise. "… I am uncertain. The possibility of that happening is… slim." Then again, if anyone in their situation would have a chance at such a thing, they would. He hoped never to find out.

"You have a guess."

Not a question, and Spock reluctantly inclined his head. "Total catatonia, if we were fortunate."

Jim waited.

"The other possibilities are far less… agreeable," and there was a sense of anticipated agony beyond words, of alone and shattered.

"Yeah, I could see that," Jim muttered, "We should probably give Bones a heads-up… just in case."

Just in case. Considering where they were headed towards Starfleet from, Spock wasn't exactly surprised by the turn of morbid thought on his bondmate's part. He'd had too many close brushes with death there to forget, or even fall into complacency.

"Yes," he agreed quietly, "We should."

"Ah," the not-word was jovial and jarring against the mood reflected between bondmates. "Captain Kirk! First Officer Spock! You have escaped the good doctor's clutches for the morning?"

As one, they turned to face Ambassador Darnell and his two bodyguards, Spock's usual mask of Vulcan calm firmly in place while Jim managed a flawless smile, "Yeah, Bones got sick of us and kicked us out. We should be getting pretty close to Earth, if you'd like to come up to the bridge with us."

Spock sensed the irritation in Jim, though, and shifted to brush a hand along his bondmate's arm.

A flicker of gratitude reached him and irritation retreated slightly, though it was far from gone. Darnell's presence had a tendency to grate at Jim, the constant reminder of Tarsus and a nightmare in reality that there had been no escape from for so many under a thirteen-year-old's care.

"Thank you for the offer, Captain," Darnell smiled and shook his head, "but I'm afraid we have yet to have breakfast. If we could join you later…?"

Jim shrugged, the picture of easy-going calm. "Of course. You know your way to the mess?"

"Ah, yes. Go ahead and attend to your duties, Captain. I'm sure running a starship is no easy task."

"You'd be surprised. I've got a good crew." A good crew with a vendetta against Admiral Bekett. Oh, hell.

Spock suppressed the urge to smirk as Jim remembered just how angry his command crew had been on finding out that Bekett had sent him to Tarsus. He hadn't—yet—actively taken part in some of the schemes to make the Admiral's life miserable, but he'd overheard Checov, Nyota, and Sulu plotting on the bridge while Jim had been distracted by the doctor's hyposprays.

He had to admit, their idea had merit.

"That you do," Darnell smiled again, "Well, we'll be heading off to breakfast, then. I will see you on the bridge later."

"You're enjoying this," Jim hissed as soon as the Ambassador was out of normal human earshot.

"I was considering aiding Sulu's plan," Spock admitted, face expressionless but bond humming with amusement.

Jim palmed his face, "Don't get into any trouble, please. And—hold it, how do you plan on doing that if you can't go more than half a ship-length from me? What are they planning?"

This time, Spock's lips quirked ever so slightly upwards.

xxxx

They got back to Earth just before shift change, Darnell (thankfully) sent planetside for the meeting he'd been called for.

Jim settled back in the command chair gratefully once the Ambassador was off ship, only to be interrupted by a hail from Starfleet.

"On screen," though his voice was even, Spock could sense reluctance in his bondmate.

"Jim, who the hell sent you to Tarsus?"

The entire bridge blinked in something very close to synchronicity. Admiral Pike did not sound pleased, and hadn't even bothered with the usual pleasantries and teasing.

"It was Bekett, Admiral," Sulu volunteered before Jim could even open his mouth.

"Bekett?" Pike snorted, shaking his head, "I should have known. The man's—nevermind. I'll tell Archer."

"Is he going to be punished for this?" Checov asked eagerly.

"Doubtful," Pike's mouth twisted in anger, "He's got seniority over the both of us, but we can at least give him some trouble."

"Oh, we've got some ideas," Uhura smirked viciously.

Jim hid his face in his hands with a groan, completely missing Pike's interested look.

Spock didn't even try to hide his smug satisfaction. Even if he didn't get involved directly, Pike was likely to and the vengeance in planning was becoming very possible.

"Anyway," Pike stated, voice firm despite the glitter of amused pride in his eyes, "I've already arranged Darnell's transport back, so you won't have to worry about that. Enterprise is being ordered to dock for a week—see to it that everyone gets a few days' leave."

Jim looked up, relieved. "Sure thing, sir."