I just want to say thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! They all really make my day. :)
Anyway, I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but I am extremely new to this fandom and I've only watched to movie, so I have no real in-depth knowledge of the Star Trek world. The planet/natives I have depicted in this chapter is all made up. I don't even have a name for them. Anyone want to give me a name for the world/people, I'll be happy to change it. Also, I took a lot of liberties with Kirk's past. I probably made up everything, but it makes him seem more badass, so I hope no one will have issues with it.
One other thing - I don't really have any other chapters planned after this, so it's all up for grabs. I'll write based on requests, so let me know. I'm kind of thinking some psychic attack that makes Jim relieve Tarsus? What do you guys think? And I know they're a lot of different versions out there, so can anyone write me a review of the general accepted versions? Thanks!
Ah, I think that's it. Again, let me know if there's any discrepancies and whatnot. Otherwise, please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Star Trek franchise.
II
A Magician Never Reveal His Secrets
It was supposed to be a routine mission. All they had to do was beam down, compile in-depth data on the newly found planet and its inhabitants, and report their findings to Starfleet. From the little information that Spock could find, they had discovered that these unnamed species of aliens were similar to humans and their culture was just on the cusp of full blown development and growth. Uhura had determined that their language was close to Terran Spanish, something that she was fluent in, so Jim reluctantly had to bring her along, just in case they couldn't communicate properly.
Kirk had originally planned to have a small landing party composed of Spock, Uhura, a couple of Redshirts, and himself, but Bones had somehow managed to get himself on that list, much to Jim's chagrin. Bones' reasoning had something to do with Jim still recovering from an allergic reaction from accidentally eating a peanut a couple of days ago. Either or, Bones wasn't quite ready to let Jim out of his sight, so Jim was forced to bring his grumbling best friend along.
Bones had grouched all the way to the transporter room and by the time they were ready to be beamed down, Jim was ready to punch his friend in the face. Only Spock's raised eyebrow had stopped him from doing so, saving him from getting hyposprayed and decapitated by a retaliating Bones before they transported down to the surface of the planet.
Their surroundings had been desolate – full of dry, cracked sand and arid heat. It didn't take long for the aliens to notice their presence. The primitive race had never seen technology more advanced than the creation of bow and arrow and had flipped out in panic at their arrival - a meeting that the team had wanted to avoid as it broke the Prime Directive. (Damn it, Jim was going to get scolded for this.). Uhura had acted quickly, speaking to them in a soothing tone. By then, they had already been surrounded by lethal looking spears, but thankfully, the aliens paused in their war rampage long enough to listen to Uhura. Her beauty had enthralled them and she easily captured their interest.
Jim had paid attention to their conversations mostly by watching the aliens' body language. He had barely made eye contact with a couple of the aliens when he realized that they were getting more agitated, but not to whatever Uhura was saying. They were staring at him and Ensign Franklin Vero who was standing beside him.
Spock and McCoy had both noticed as well and subconsciously shifted closer to Jim. Jim glanced at Vero and tried to figure out what about the two of them that was troubling the aliens. The Ensign had brownish hair and was about two inches taller than Jim as well. They looked nothing alike. Jim frowned, still unable to make any connections when Ensign Vero gave him a confused look. And then Jim connected the dots, but a fraction of a second too late.
There was a vicious cry and suddenly, one of the aliens sprang forward, stabbing his spear into Vero's neck.
Vero gurgled with surprise written in his dulling blue eyes before he collapsed onto the ground. Fury racing through his veins, Jim leapt into action. He stepped into the alien's space and quickly dispatched him with a few sharp jabs to his solar plexus.
And then it was a full out war.
McCoy and Ensign Carl Latissimer flicked out their phasers, shooting at whoever came near them; Spock and Jim had raced to Uhura's side and defended her as she tried to contact Enterprise with no avail, engaging in hand-to-hand combat with the aliens who were all shouting angrily. Within minutes, it became clear that they weren't interesting in anyone but Jim.
All their attacks had focused on their Captain and if Latissimer hadn't thrown himself behind Jim, Jim would've been killed by a spear to the back. Despair and anger filled Jim as he saw his comrade fall. Instantly, he raised his eyes to take in everything before him to calculate their chances of survival. He could see more aliens running to join in the fray and they were ridiculously outnumbered.
There was only one scenario where Jim could be sure that his friends would live.
He raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender and shouted loudly over the fray in the aliens' tongue, "I give myself up!"
Uhura snapped around, hissing, "What the hell are you doing, Kirk?!" She was too shocked and confused at what Jim was saying to even be awed by his ability to speak Spanish.
"They have something against blue eyes," he said back quietly, and then to the aliens, "Let my friends go. They have done no wrong. Let them go and I will go with you willingly. No more fighting!"
The leader lifted a hand and the aliens instantly stepped back.
"Jim, what the hell are you doing?!" growled McCoy, panting slightly from the exertion of dodging and fighting.
"Saving your asses."
A pause. "You mean, saving 'our' asses, right?"
Jim flashed McCoy his patented smirk, "Sure, Bones. Sure."
Panic flushed through McCoy and he reached out to grab Jim, but Jim smartly stepped away, only to be caught by Spock.
"Captain, what are you doing?" the Vulcan asked quietly.
Jim just ignored Spock. "I apologize for offending you, great leader. It was not my intention. My friends have no fault in this matter. Do what you will with me, but leave them alone."
"You are a demon! A devil! We will have nothing to do with your kind!" screeched an alien.
"You must die! You must be sacrificed! Or we will all suffer! You all must perish!"
"The others do not have the same colored eyes as I do. They will not participate in your ritual!" snarled Jim.
The leader raised his hand and silence fell. He approached Jim. "Your friends' fates will be determined at a later time. For now, you will come with us quietly, or we will kill them here."
Jim nodded and the aliens enclosed upon them. Jim was roughly torn apart from his friends, his arms tied behind his back and a rope around his neck. McCoy shouted loudly while Spock and Uhura struggled harshly against the bondages that were quickly being wrapped around them.
"Relax, guys. You'll be fine. Promise," grinned Jim before a burlap sack was shoved onto his head. Within seconds, he was dragged wordlessly away from his friends while the rest of them were pulled towards another direction.
They had been literally been overpowered, overmanned, to the point that even Spock could not manage to release himself to save their Captain. Instead, they found themselves thrown into an archaic iron prison with old-fashioned shackles. Their communicators had been dismantled and torn apart; their phasers destroyed and thrown into a fire.
Within the hour of them landing, the crew of the Enterprise was imprisoned – their future was bleak.
And the fate of Captain James T. Kirk? Unknown.
When Kirk's hood was lifted away, the first thing he saw were the same aliens that had captured him. Within seconds, he had taken in his surroundings. It seemed that he was being kept in some underground hideout; the crude walls were carved out of stone, the floor was dirt, and torches were hung around the room as a form of light. There were hallways that curved and were no doubt a maze – well, as far as Kirk could tell when he was blindfolded.
Now, he was placed in the center of a large room and tied to a pole. He tested his bindings, feeling the coarse rope chafe against his wrists, but the knots weren't too sophisticated. Jim had escaped from worse. All he had to do was create a diversion so that he could slip out and find his friends – that is, before the aliens decide to skewer, burn, or eat him for having blue eyes. What the hell was with that anyway? Why blue of all colors?
Jim could feel the guilt chew away at his insides. The two Redshirts he had brought down – Ensign Vero and Latissimer – were both young and inexperienced. He was sure that Vero had a fiancée that was commissioned on another ship and Latissimer was well on his way to become second-in-command of Enterprise's security. Giotto (Cupcake, Jim mentally corrected) had even taken the twenty-eight-year-old under his wing and the three of them had enjoyed a few poker nights here and there. Jim never liked the idea of sacrifice – he personally didn't feel he deserved such loyalty. He would have much rather be leaving behind than left behind, not that he could. Survivor's guilt was something that Jim was all too familiar with, and he hated it with such a passion that he felt a fire of anger erupt within him at how helpless and weak he was to stop it all.
And he would be damned if he let down Bones, Spock, and Uhura.
Keeping his eyes down so that the sight of the cerulean hues would not set off the aliens, Jim kept a close watch on his captors. They seemed to have split into three different factions – each fighting for the sake of saying that they had captured the "blue-eyed demon". After listening for a few minutes, Jim figured that the heads of these factions were actually brothers. There were jabs from one to the other about their mothers, but never about the father, so Jim assumed that they were half-siblings paternally. He strained to make out their fast speech, picking up words like "honor" and "kill". Ah…it kind of made sense now. In their culture, it must have been considered the highest honor to be able to capture and kill a blue-eyed demon, and now, the siblings were fighting over who could have the honor of saying that they caught Jim.
He grinned. Wreaking havoc was always one of his strong suits and he had more than enough information now.
"Hey!" he shouted in Spanish. "I heard that one over there tell his little friend that if he doesn't get this honor, he's plotting to off both of you in your sleep."
Anger yelling filled the small cavern and the brothers began to prod and push physically at one another now.
"The other one said that he's sleeping with your mother!" Jim continued. "He wants you to know that your mother loves him more than you, especially when he's holding her tightly in his arms."
"Don't listen to him!" exclaimed one of the brothers, "He's lying! He's a demon! He wants us to fight, brothers!"
"That's right, I'm a demon." Jim bared his teeth, "Which means I can read the darkest secrets hidden deep within your hearts. I speak only of the truth. Besides, he is only nervous because he has long planned for the demise of the two of you and your mothers, but not before he violently and viciously rapes them."
That pushed them over the edge. Quite frankly, Jim was expecting to have to put a lot more effort into picking at the strife between the brothers, but he was lucky to have caught them when they were already under such tense terms.
Roars of anger echoed against the stone walls and spears clashed. Bodies fell to the ground, covering the brown dirt with blood.
Jim dropped low, squatting down to keep out of view. Quickly, he worked at the ropes, tugging and relaxing at specific intervals to weaken the material. After a few minutes, he felt some of the twine snap and instantly, he pulled hard. The ropes broke apart and he was free.
The civil war was still going on around him and he leapt to his feet, throwing himself into the fray. There was so much chaos, so much bloodlust in the air, that Jim was easily able to sidestep his way through towards the singular exit. He was meters from it when he felt a sharp pain rake across his upper right arm. Hissing, he glanced at the wound and up at the person who incurred it, ready to defend himself, but it seemed that it had been a lucky hit and the aliens were still too occupied to notice Jim's escape.
The injury itself was shallow, almost like a paper cut, so Jim paid it no attention and pushed forward. He realized minutes later that he really shouldn't have underestimated how prone he was to danger. His vision had begun to blur and his breathing had become more difficult. Heat coursed through his body in flashes, making his muscles cramp and spasm. Even his sharp mind had begun to slow slightly, already shoving up barriers against the pain as he tried to detach himself from it.
Shit. The freaking blade had been poisoned.
Bones was going to kill him, but that was if Jim found him in time.
Jim used the wall as support and kept walking down. He had no idea where his friends were being kept, but he had learned long ago to trust his instincts, especially when it came to directions.
No matter what, he would find his friends, even if he was just a little bit too late for himself…
"Doctor McCoy, will you desist in pacing back and forth? I assure you that it will not pass the time any faster," said Spock. He was sitting in the center of their cell (he had deduced that it was four feet by six feet in seconds that they were placed there) in his familiar lotus position. At first, he had planned to mediate in order to grasp a hold on his emotions. This had been the fourth time that Jim had willingly put himself into a dangerous situation in order to protect others, which usually involved Spock, and the Vulcan felt an odd rush of anger, irritation, and worry that were supposedly completely illogical. However, his attempts at trying to understand the enigma that was James T. Kirk had been thwarted over and over again by McCoy's incessant mutterings and pacing.
"Shut up, you hobgoblin. I'll do whatever I damn well please. They have Jim and God knows that the hell they're doing to him!" snapped Leonard, "Why the hell did they target him and Vero anyway?"
Spock just raised his eyebrow, as if saying "beats me", if he actually used such colloquialisms. Meanwhile, Uhura, who was sitting beside Spock, kept her eyes glued to the floor as she thought back to the few seconds that she and Jim had conversed.
"Kirk said something about blue eyes and that he had offended them," she said slowly.
"Ensign Vero had genetically blue irises as well."
"So the aliens have an irrational prejudice against people with blue eyes. Figures that those pretty blues of Jim's would get him in trouble over and over again," snorted McCoy.
"In that case, what do you think they're going to do to him?" asked Uhura.
"Beats me. But Jim is mighty fine attached to his eyes. They're one of his best selling points. If anything he'll kick everyone's ass just so that he can use them to charm others again."
True to his word, in the next minute, the door slammed open, revealing Jim leaning heavily against the frame. His face was a sickly white pallor and covered in sweat, but he still smiled brightly at his imprisoned crew.
"Yes! I finally found you guys!" he exhaled, his tone slightly breathless, yet relieved.
"Jim, you alright?" Bones asked, concern overcoming his relief.
Jim waved aside Bones' question and staggered up to the bars. Using the metal as support, Jim reached out for Bones who readily rushed up to greet him. Bones' keen eyes caught sight of the shallow laceration on his friend's right biceps and opened his mouth to demand some answers.
"Not now, Bones," Jim rasped as his fingers enclosed on the Starfleet pin on Bones' shirt.
Spock's eyebrow rose in confusion at Jim's actions until the Captain fell heavily on his knees, blinking blearily for a brief second before pulling off his own pin. With shaking fingers, he nimbly inserted a sharp end from each of the insignias and twiddled around for a couple of minutes. There was an audible click and Jim smirked, jerking down on the archaic lock. It fell to the ground with a loud clunk.
"How do you know how to pick locks?" asked Uhura, her eyes wide.
"Genius farmboy, remember?" Jim laughed a little breathlessly as he struggled to his feet. "Besides, a magician never reveals his secrets…"
He swung the barred door open and stepped into their prison. Immediately, Spock turned around to give Jim better access to the manacles that bound his wrists together. Wordlessly, Jim unlocked Spock and let the metal fall before turning to Bones.
Shouts were beginning to echo down the hallway towards them and Spock glanced around, looking for a potential weapon. With a barely hidden grimace, Jim bent to draw out the knife he kept in his boot and tossed it to the Vulcan.
"Don't lose it," quipped Jim just as he released Bones and moved on to Uhura.
Once free, McCoy ran out of the prison cell and rifled through a box where the aliens had kept their possessions. Only their communicators remained, but that was all he was looking for.
"McCoy to Enterprise, do you hear me?" he said, but there was no response. He groaned, realizing that the stupid thing wasn't even working anymore. "Damnnit! What the hell did they do to these things? Jim, what can you do with this?"
Bones threw the communicator towards his friend, but Jim fumbled with it before dropping it in an unsuccessful catch. Uhura managed to snag it out of the air before it fell to the ground and broke to pieces.
Now, all three of his friends were staring at Jim, frowning. They all knew that Jim's reflexes were insanely quick. To not have been able to catch something as clunky as the communicator – it meant something was very, very wrong.
Within a few steps, Bones was already beside his best friend, scanning him with trained eyes, but he couldn't see anything past the small cut on Jim's arm. He was briefly distracted as the yelling aliens came rushing in with their swords and spears flashing.
Spock had been ready for them and with a few quick movements, he sent the first couple crashing to the ground, unconscious.
"Spock, don't let them cut you," Jim said with almost a resigned sigh, "Their blades are poisoned."
Bones' eyes widened and he whirled on Jim, gripping his left bicep tightly. Instantly, Jim sagged in his grasp, letting out a small, muffled sound of pain.
"Damn it, Jim! How long has it been since you've been poisoned?!" Bones demanded, shifting to help set his friend to the ground so that he was sitting comfortably against Bones' chest. He kept one hand on Jim's wrist to take his pulse – it was too fast and thready – and the other on Jim's thorax to count the blonde's respiratory rate that was much too shallow and quick for Bones' liking.
"What?" Uhura turned around, reaching out to touch Jim's forehead. "Leonard, he's burning up!"
"Shit! And I don't have my medkit on me! Jim, do you know what kind of poison they used?"
Jim shook his head and held out a trembling hand towards Uhura.
"What is it, Kirk?" she asked, confused.
"The communicator…give me…"
Numbly, she handed it to him. As quickly as he could with his fingers shaking, he took it apart to reveal the wires within it. With practiced ease, Jim stripped three of them and rewired a couple with some complex maneuvering amidst the bundles of wires. There was a spark. Satisfied, Jim reconnected the covering and smacked it once. The noise of static greeted them and Jim handed it back to Uhura with a smirk on his face.
"That should work now…"
The look of disbelief and doubt on her face would have been amusing if Jim could work his way through the fog of pain.
Suddenly, Spock was kneeling before them. "There are more soldiers coming. We must leave now if we are to escape."
His brown eyes settled on Jim's weak form and didn't even think before gathering his Captain into his arms. There wasn't even a sound of protest from Jim, which made Bones' heart sink. It was worse than he had thought, but he didn't have the time to check on his friend. Not when he was pushed to his limits to chase after a Vulcan.
Behind him, he could hear Uhura calling out to Enterprise on the communicator, but by the sounds of the static and her increasingly frustrated words, there was some sort of jamming signal that prevented them from connecting with Chekov. It was baffling. These aliens had spears and bows, but yet they had something that prevented even the Enterprise from communicating with them? Spock figured that it had to do with their atmosphere being slightly negatively charged – it was probably enough to distort any radio or electrical waves that were transmitted from Starfleet's flagship.
They rambled down the stone hallways, turning and stopping at various points to avoid detection.
"Do you know how to get out of here, hobgoblin?"
Ignoring the name that McCoy used, Spock merely nodded. "I had memorized the exact path when they brought us in. We are almost out."
There was a hesitant pause as Spock glanced down at Jim. The Captain's eyes were closed and his right hand was weakly clutching Spock's shirt in what he deemed as pain. Jim hadn't made any noise during the entire time and he was shaking more. Even Spock could feel the heat radiating from Jim through his shirt. It didn't take someone with as high of an IQ as Spock to know that Jim needed medical care, and soon.
"Doctor…" he started to say.
"I know," McCoy interrupted tersely, his worried expressions on the borderline of panic, "But we gotta get outta here and find some shelter before I can help him. Or better yet, get us back to Enterprise. There isn't much I can do without any of my supplies. Hell, I don't even know what poison they gave him! And with his luck, he'll end up being allergic to it!"
Spock nodded with a tint of concern in his dark-brown eyes. "I recall a cave located approximately 1.2 miles away from here. I suggest we make haste before the aliens are able to assemble a party to chase us."
"Lead the way, hobgoblin."
McCoy and Uhura were slightly bent over, their hands on their knees as they panted heavily to catch their breath again. Their sides burned with each gulp of air as they struggled to regain their strength. McCoy was sure his muscles were going to hate him the next day and he had that damn Vulcan to blame. It wasn't that the good doctor wasn't out of shape. In fact, he enjoyed the occasional jog, as did Uhura, but to keep up with a worried Vulcan? It would be difficult even if it was Jim.
Speaking of which, McCoy watched as Spock gently lowered Jim down onto the hard ground of the small cave. The crevice in the mountain wasn't deep, but its entrance was hidden from view by a few well-placed trees and bushes. Though it was damp and cold, it was the best that they could manage so far.
The moment Jim's body touched the floor, he quickly curled in on himself. His fingers clutched at his sides as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself. He was gripping so hard that his knuckles were turning white and his nails were digging into his flesh. There were driblets of blood on Jim's lower lip where he had been biting himself, no doubt to muffle any sounds.
Noticing the self-imposed injury, Spock immediately rubbed a comforting hand against Jim's cheek. "Jim, cease biting yourself."
Jim's only response was a small, muffled sound.
McCoy knelt down beside his friend, his skilled hands probing and checking Jim for obvious injuries. He lightly pressed against Jim's chest and the latter released a loud hiss.
"You have a couple of cracked ribs, Jim. We gotta straighten you out or you'll put pressure on them," McCoy said gruffly.
With obvious difficulty, Jim obeyed, keeping his eyes squeezed shut the entire time. This time, he couldn't keep back a choked moan, let alone keep the pain off his face. He felt too hot, like everything inside was burning and liquefying. Every movement sent sparks of stabbing agony racing up and down his nerves. And the fires only grew more and more, making the pain grow with each passing second.
Jim was no stranger to pain. He hadn't had the best childhood, growing up with that bastard of a stepfather, Frank, and surviving Tarsus IV. And that didn't include all the various times he had been captured and tortured while in Starfleet. But this experience…it was the icing on top of the cake. He could feel himself cracking with each passing second. His mind couldn't focus; he couldn't breathe. The pain had taken command of his everything.
"B-bones…" he whispered, opening his dull blue eyes to plead with his friend, "Make it s-stop…"
There was a grief on Bones' face that was so strong it almost made Jim nauseated, that was if he could feel anything past the fires consuming his body. "I'm sorry, Jim. I don't have anything with me, but we'll be back on Enterprise soon and you're gonna be fine. You hear me?"
Jim just whimpered, letting his head sink back down onto the ground.
"Goddamn it! Work!" came a frantic scream from Uhura. There was nothing but static still coming from the communicator. Tears welled in her eyes as she glanced over at Jim's shaking body. Her friend and Captain was lying on his back, his head Bones' lap, and his face pressed against his friend's stomach. She could hear him struggling to breathe from where she stood; she could hear the muffled whimpers even as Bones drew Jim closer in to him.
Then she saw Spock. The Vulcan's expressionless face had twisted. There was fear and panic within his usually stoic features. He grimaced every time Jim's muscles spasmed, making his entire body twitch, ending with a groan. She could see his hands reach out in an attempt to help, but fall helplessly at his side, clenched into tight fists.
She felt her heart sink. This was it…their friend – no, brother – was going to die in front of them and there was nothing they could do but watch.
Then there was a slight change in the static, making Spock's head snap up towards her.
Instantly, she raised the communicator up to her lips, "Uhura to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise! Please!"
"…-hura…sig-…jam…" came the broken voice. "Two…sec-…" And then a heavenly voice filled the cave. "I got it!" Chekov's voice broke through. "Enterprise here."
"Four to beam up! Now!" she snapped. "Kirk needs medical attention immediately!"
"Ah have ta reroute the transporter around the jammin' signal. Give me five minutes," said Scotty.
Right then, Jim's back arched completely off the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream. His hands grasped wildly for anything that could ground him.
"Jim doesn't have five minutes!" McCoy yelled from where he sat, "Beam us up!"
There was sound of clatter and loud cursing from the other end, but no one in the cave paid it any attention.
All eyes were focused on Jim who had managed to weakly grab Spock's bare wrist with his sweaty hands. He looked up pleadingly at the Vulcan – the once vibrant blue glazed. A single tear made its way down from the corner of Jim's eye to disappear into his hair near his ear.
"P-please, S-spock…" he gasped, "I c-can't…"
Spock's entire body went rigid at Jim's touch. A gasp escaped the Vulcan as his eyes went wide. Even with his shields up full, he could feel Jim's agony bleeding through, like a rampant wild fire that had grown so hot that Spock's body was reacting to it, threatening to fall apart too.
Without hesitation, Spock reached out, pressing the bundle of nerves around Jim's neck. Jim instantly fell unconscious, slumped in McCoy's arms. His grip on Spock loosened and his hand fell limply against his stomach.
And then there was silence.
McCoy looked at the Vulcan in confusion.
Spock could only shake his head. "He was in so much pain…" Spock whispered, horror in every word. "So much pain…"
And then familiar white lights surrounded them.
In the blink of an eye, they were back on board the Enterprise. McCoy could have kissed Nurse Chapel for standing at the ready with a stretcher, the medkit specific to Jim, and a small team of medical with her in the transporter room.
Instantly, he began barking orders as he jammed a hypospray into Jim's neck. Before Uhura could even react, Jim had already been whisked away to the Sickbay with McCoy close by his side. Usually, by then, Uhura would have felt a small wave of relief because Leonard wouldn't let Jim die. He couldn't. Jim was safe in McCoy's hands, but she felt nothing of the sort now. Not when Spock was still kneeling on the floor of the transporter pad in the same exact position he was in when he Vulcan pinched Jim into unconsciousness. Spock was frozen; his emotions leaking through. There was horror, panic, and worst of all, fear written in his eyes. Whatever he had felt when Jim touched him was haunting him, so what did that mean for Jim?
"Commander, are you alright?" asked Chekov.
Spock startled at Chekov's voice and looked up. Surprise was evident in his expressions before it was swiftly schooled into a cool mask.
"I am fine," he said quickly before standing up. "Lieutenant Chekov, please return to the Bridge and plot a course to the next system. We have compiled enough data on this planet to determine that the inhabitants are much too primitive for the Federation to even consider forming an alliance. Have us set off within ten minutes."
"Do you hawe a specific place in mind, sir?"
"No, but we are leaving this place as quickly as possible. Lieutenant-Commander Scott, you have the conn. If I am needed, I shall be in Sickbay."
Spock's words were curt and he almost ran out of the transporter room to follow McCoy.
Scotty and Chekov shared a frown before turning to Uhura for an explanation.
Uhura shook her head, tears in her eyes, "Kirk was poisoned…he didn't look good."
"He'll be alright, lass," said Scotty, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me." He turned to Chekov, "Lad, you 'eard the Commander. Get yer arse to the Bridge!"
Chekov hesitated.
Scotty easily understood. "We'll keep ye updated on the Captain. Now get. Doesn't do us much good standin' around 'ere doin' nuthin'."
Uhura watched the young Navigator leave before doing the same herself.
Scotty didn't need to ask where she was going. He would have joined her to stand guard by the Sickbay himself if he hadn't had to run the ship. "Let us know when Jim's awake, a'rite?" he called after her.
"Of course."
And then she was gone as well.
The Engineer shook his head, muttering to himself. "What kind o' trouble did ye get yerself into this time, Jim?"
But as always, there was no one to answer his worries.
When Jim awoke, there was only darkness. There was no white ceiling of the Sickbay, no bustling nurses and clattering of medical equipment. There was no Bones hovering over him and scolding him like a child. For a brief moment, Jim actually thought that he was dead, but the fire within him had not yet subsided. It was less than before – when he had been burned alive in that damp cave – but it was still there. Needles were stabbing deep into his muscles, making them scream and yelp in agony. It was so hot, so agonizingly scorching, that Jim felt so cold, like he had been trapped on Delta Vega again.
He shivered, unable to stop his body's tremors, triggering a flare of pain. A small cry escaped his lips and he clenched at the blankets that lay over him. Suddenly, there was a comforting hand, caressing his face and soft murmurs that were all so familiar.
Jim opened his eyes and saw a disheveled Bones sitting beside him. He cracked a smile at his best friend. "B-bones…" he croaked.
"Hey, kid," Bones said back softly. "Welcome back to the living."
Another flash of agony and Jim couldn't stop his back from arching or the whimper that he let out.
Instantly, Bones was leaning over him, running his fingers through Jim's short hair. "Ssh…it's going to be alright, Jim. I'm sorry. I know it hurts, and I'm sorry. The poison the aliens used binds to the pain receptors in your body. Even with Spock's antidote, it'll take some time for it to flush out of your system and for those messages to stop being sent. You'll be fine in the morning, but for now, you'll have hang on, alright?"
Jim groaned, "Those f-fuckers…"
Bones let out a wet chuckle. "Yeah, those fuckers, but Spock was able to make an antidote real quick after I gave him a vial of your blood. If he was late by a few more minutes, we woulda lost ya, Jimbo. Don't want to admit it, but your hobgoblin really does come through in a crisis. I can see why you always insist that he beams down with you."
"I d-don't…Spock is the one…who in-insists…" Jim stuttered with a small smile, only to have it replaced with a grimace of agony.
Wanting to distract himself with anything, Jim let his eyes wander. He couldn't make out much past Bones' face and he felt confused. Sickbay was never this dark. Ever. It was just impossible with all the machines and equipment.
"Where am I?" he slurred.
"Your quarters. I figured that you'd want to be somewhere private while this thing runs its course."
Jim let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks…"
He let his eyes close as he tried to detach himself from the pain; his body would not cease trembling and a coldness had settled over him. He shivered and reached out blindly for his best friend. Bones would make it better…he always did.
"B-bones…c-cold…"
For a brief second, Bones' hand disappeared and Jim couldn't stop small wave of disappointment that rushed through him. He shouldn't have listened to what his past had written into his instincts because the next moment, the bed dipped and he felt Bones slip under the covers next to him and lightly pulled Jim towards him.
Jim pushed his face against Bones' chest, using his best friend to muffle any sounds that he was making. His fingers entwined within Bones' shirt and clenched ever so often when the pain reared its ugly head.
Bones just murmured quiet nothings into Jim's hair and continued to rub Jim's shoulder comfortingly. The doctor had helped warm Jim somewhat, but it wasn't nearly enough and Jim continued to shiver, his moans stifled against Bones shirt.
There was a hiss of the bathroom door opening and Bones glanced up to see Spock stepping in wearing his casual blacks. McCoy had almost forgotten that Jim and Spock shared a bathroom. Why that was, he would never know…
Within seconds, Spock had approached them, assessed the situation, and raised an eyebrow at Bones.
"I came to inquire about the Captain's condition," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is the antidote not working as it should?"
"It worked fine. He'll be all right by morning," McCoy responded, his words just as quiet. "Poison just gotta flush outta his system."
Spock nodded, standing awkwardly by the side of the bed.
Suddenly, a violent shiver racked Jim's body and a choked sound escaped his lips. Spock froze and cocked his head, as if trying to figure out what was going on.
McCoy rolled his eyes. "He's cold, you hobgoblin."
"Shall I retrieve another blanket?"
"It won't help much. His body is focusing on fighting the poison so it's not producing any heat. It's gotta be external."
"I see."
Then Spock disappeared, bending down.
"What are you doing?" asked McCoy.
"Is it not obvious that I am taking off my shoes?"
"I figured that, you dumbass. I'm asking why."
"Then you should rephrase your sentence more accurately next time around, Doctor."
"Would you shut up?"
Spock ignored him and lifted the corner of Jim's blanket and slipped into bed.
"What are you doing?" hissed Leonard.
"Vulcans have a much higher body temperature than humans. You informed me that Jim is in need of external heat. I believe that I can be of help."
As Spock pressed closer to the Captain, Jim made a contented sound and subconsciously moved closer to the Vulcan. McCoy opened his mouth to protest, but at the sight of Jim's face relaxing in increments, Leonard held his tongue. In minutes, the heat under the covers was overwhelming and Bones felt sweat dripping down his back, but it soothed Jim. His breathing slowed and gradually, he fell asleep wrapped up between his two best friends.
Bones smiled as he ran his fingers within Jim's hair again.
The worst was over.
The temperature in Jim's room had been raised five degrees to a sweltering heat. He had been propped up with several pillows on his bed and smiling like a fool as he watched (and enjoyed) Bones coddle him like a child.
"Bones, I'm fine," sighed Jim as Bones tucked the blankets around him again.
"Yeah? Lift your hand for me then."
Jim just gave him a smile, "You know I can't."
"Then shut up."
The poison had left Jim's system by daybreak, but it left him as weak as a newborn lamb. Even now, it took most of Jim's energy to keep himself upright. Still, the poison was gone and the fires were finally quenched. And for that, he was grateful.
When Bones finally looked content at Jim's tricorder readings, he settled down at Jim's desk with his PADD out and began typing up the reports he had put off while he was treating Jim.
After a few minutes of silence (well, silence on Bones' part), Jim had to break it. "Where did Spock go?" he asked. He remembered that Spock had, sometime during the night, crept into his bed. As awkward as it was to be sandwiched by his two best friends, he had to admit, he had been far more comfortable than he would ever say out loud. And he was extremely touched that Spock – a touch telepath – was willing to break all of his physical barriers to ensure that Jim was warm enough. It was the same with Bones, though Jim always knew that the doctor had a soft spot for him, as Jim did for him.
"The hobgoblin went to the Bridge for his shift."
Jim hummed. "I'll have to thank him later and apologize."
"Why apologize?"
"I shouldn't have touched him in that cave. I knew that he'll feel everything. Shouldn't have put him through that…"
"I don't think he'll hold you accountable for your actions, Jim. You were poisoned, remember?"
A pause. "Yeah…I remember…" Jim breathed.
Bones set down his PADD. "Do we need to talk about this, Jim?"
Jim leaned back and closed his eyes. "No. I was poisoned. It hurt. That's about it. This wasn't Tarsus, Bones. Not even close."
There was a knock on the door. Before Bones could snarl at the visitor to piss off, Jim called out tiredly, "Come in!"
The door slid open, revealing Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, and Spock pressed around the narrow entrance.
Jim cracked a smile. "Hey, guys. Come on in."
They piled in and surrounded Jim's bed. Jim could read the worry off their faces and body language, especially when he made no move to sit up straighter or readjust himself so that he didn't as vulnerable as he did. They took in his pale face, the dark circles under his eyes, and his relative inability to do anything, for that matter, and their concern only increased.
"I'm fine," he sighed. "Relax, guys."
Uhura glared at him.
Jim rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll be alright. Just need to recover for a couple of days and I'll be good as new."
"You know, I think we need to make it a rule that you're never allowed to beam down, Kirk," joked Sulu. "Ever."
"I second that," McCoy added.
Jim opened his mouth to argue back and no doubt run loops around them, but Uhura cut him off fast by changing the subject. "Kirk, how did you get out to come save us?"
"Escaping was a lot easier than you'd think. A few taunts here and there about one guy screwing the other's mother and before you know it, there's a sibling war for the title of chief. I escaped in the chaos, but some bastard got a lucky hit in. Didn't realize that the blades had been poisoned until I was halfway down the hallway to you guys."
"You started a civil war within minutes of being captured?" gaped Sulu. "Even you can't be that good."
Jim just gave them his shit-eating smirk.
Uhura rolled her eyes. "And where did you learn how to pick locks?"
"I spent some time in my early teens wandering the world. I picked up a few tricks here and there from odd jobs over the years."
"Let me guess, you worked as a magician at one point."
"I was an escape artist. I just say magician because it's less of a mouthful."
"And is that where you learned Spanish?"
"Nope. I learned Spanish as a bartender in Barcelona."
"Wait, Kirk is fluent in Spanish and Vulcan?" exclaimed Sulu.
"The Keptin is also fluent in Russian," added Chekov.
"Card shark in Moscow," explained Jim. "I spent the longest time there. I think it was about six months? So I guess I can pass for being a magician. I did learn some pretty neat tricks in Russia." He winked at Sulu and Chekov, "I'll show them to you next time we play poker."
"Captain, you stated that you traveled Earth in your early teenage years. Am I correct in assuming that you conducted your travels alone?" asked Spock.
Jim froze for a split second before his smiling, indifferent mask came back into place. "Yeah, I went off on my own. Winona sent me off-planet when I drove a car off a cliff and I was…unwelcome when I returned. So, I took off. People liked to hire me because I'm a genius and always learned fast, despite how young I was."
Instantly, they all knew that Spock had forced Jim to reveal more than he had intended because McCoy jumped into action, preventing any further questioning.
"Alright, everyone out. Our idiot of a Captain needs to rest," Leonard said gruffly.
"Genius. Genius of a Captain," Jim corrected, eliciting a few chuckles from his crew as they turned to leave.
"Wait, Spock. Can you stay for a minute?" asked Jim.
Spock merely nodded and waited for the final "hope you get better soon" murmurs from the rest of the crew as they left.
"Spock, I want to apologize. I shouldn't have grabbed your hand like that in the cave," Jim said.
"Apologies are not necessary, Jim. My barriers held strong and I was able to relieve you of your immense pain."
"Then thanks are in order. Thank you, Spock, for everything. I know it wasn't easy for you and I appreciate it."
Spock gave a short nod. "I believe the Terran saying is: 'thanks are not needed'. I was merely assisting a friend in need to the best of my abilities."
Jim beamed. "You're the best, Spock."
"That's enough emotion for the day," grouched McCoy, "Out, hobgoblin. Jim needs to sleep off the aftereffects."
"Understood. Please let me know if further assistance is needed."
McCoy snorted, "A Vulcan butler. Only Jim could make that happen."
Spock's eyebrow rose. "I was not offering my services in that manner, Doctor. I was offering my assistance in keeping the Captain on bed rest until he is fully recovered."
Now, Leonard looked confused. "Why? We're not in Sickbay where there're holes that Jim can slip through."
"While that is true, I believe that we may have to reassess the Captain's ability to 'skip town', as the saying goes. He has revealed that he spent some time as an escape artist, which increases the likelihood of him disobeyed strict orders to rest by 74.2%."
McCoy's eyes widened as he realized the full extent of what Spock was saying. He turned, meaning to threaten Jim, but Jim was nowhere to be seen.
"Damnnit, Jim!" snarled McCoy as he rustled around his belongings to find his comm and begin a ship wide search for their missing Captain. "How the hell did he get past us anyway?!"
Spock glanced over at Jim's bed when something small and white caught his attention. He took a few steps over and picked up the square piece of paper with a few words scrawled on it.
"Doctor," Spock called out and waited until Leonard was beside him to show Jim's note.
"A magician never reveals his secrets…"
That set off a stream of curses and bodily threats. Jim would come to regret pulling this escape on his best friend, but he simply couldn't resist after figuring out what Spock was about to say.
McCoy angrily pulled on his blue uniform over his black undershirt and stormed out, muttering "ingenious idiot" and numerous insults under his breath.
The Vulcan followed the doctor out and watched as he stomped down the hallway, snapping at every unfortunate soul that accidentally crossed paths with him. Spock looked down at the small sheet of paper in his hand and allowed himself feel amused by it, letting his lips quirk slightly upwards.
Ingenious idiot indeed…
(Jim was later found sitting on the Bridge, chatting animatedly with the Command crew and Scotty before McCoy and Spock both appeared to bring him back to his quarters to rest. Needless to say, the next time anyone saw their Captain was a few days later when he was completely recovered. It was another week before Jim even dared to be in the same room as McCoy who never failed to stab their genius Captain with a hypospray.)
Well, that's that. I hope you enjoyed it! Again, I don't really have any plans after this, so this will only be updated if I get a request that I fancy or some other sadistic idea pops into my head. Lol!
Anyway, happy holidays, everyone!
Thanks for reading and please review!
~ Kanae Yuna
Edit (11/25/17): I recently got two comments on this story about racism in my description of the native tribe here. First and foremost, I do want to apologize to anyone who might have been offended or turned off by this. It was never my intention, I swear. As an Asian in America, I have faced racism myself and would never want any of my works to reflect or encourage such backwards thinking. So, from the bottom of my heart, I do apologize. But allow me to defend myself briefly - this is a work of fiction. I did not try to base the description off any particular tribe or have it reflect anything that happened in history. I was merely trying to create a culture that would fit with the Prime Directive and work with the plot line I had. I did not choose Aryan characteristics (if I did, I would have said that the aliens didn't like blue eyes, blond hair, AND fair skin). I arbitrarily chose blue eyes because Jim has blue eyes and as far as I know, is the only one who has them, making it work with the plot better. I also arbitrarily chose Spanish as a language, not because, historically, many civilizations in North and South America were colonized by Spain. I just happened to be learning Spanish at the time that I wrote this (which was 2012) so it made an appearance. That all aside, I will not deny that the description of the aliens in this chapter did seem to play up to the stereotypes of what is deemed as "primitive cultures," which is rude and wrong. I am sorry that I did so. Please accept my sincerest apologies on this matter. I have edited the story to make the description more generic and to not directly compare to any cultures. I am more than happy to have an open discussion with anyone who believes that more can be done to improve this chapter - feel free to PM me if you would like to. Once again, thank you to the two commenters (one here and one on AO3) on this matter. Hopefully, these new changes to this work of fiction help.
Edit (12/24/12): Some reviewers informed me about Starfleet's Prime Directive (or something like that) and how Starfleet would actually never form an alliance with primitive cultures, so I went back and fixed it so that they were exploring an unknown world and gathering data instead. Thanks for letting me know! I didn't know that Starfleet didn't do that sort of thing, seeing how all my knowledge comes from the movie, but I'm glad people pointed it out. I like to be as true to the original as possible. Please let me know if these changes work (just a couple of rewording in a couple of sentences in the beginning). Thanks again and sorry if I upset anyone!