Chapter 21: The Divide

Thank you to all who reviewed, add on favourites, add on alerts and for reading. I appreciate the support very much! I don't have a Beta reader so please feel free to point out any spelling or grammatical errors. Constructive criticisms are also welcomed and appreciated. I am in the midst of a major overhaul for Spirk so update for the next chapter has been slowed down. Don't worry, I promise that this story will be completed. Feel free to message me regarding any inquiries.

Edited as of: 07/11/2013

The waves were powerful, surging and pulling him in all directions. He struggled to keep himself above the swerve of the crashing waves but his strength was abandoning him. He couldn't see, could not breath and then there came the pain. He gasped as another strong wave hits him and he went under.

Spock! he called in desperation.

There was no reply. He was alone.

Where are you? Kirk thought frantically before the darkness came.

Kirk was awakened by the dreaded sound of beeping from a heart monitor, and the tell-tale sign of his current location by the stark, recognisable smell of antiseptic.

He was in sickbay.

He gasped his first conscious breath in misery as tears stung his eyes. His first instinct upon awakening was of loneliness so vast and unfamiliar he wondered if a hole had been torn where his heart should be. There was a tattered connection somewhere in his mind, he knew that was still there but turned away. Spock. It was Spock but the presence was weak, like an echo of a memory rather than a real presence.

Where was Spock? Why isn't he here with me?

"Spock!" he had called out loud except that his voice sounded all croaky and wrong. His head felt like it was full of lead. His vision saw nothing but white lights, blinded by the rising tide of his panic. Where was Spock? Blindly he began groping for the side of the bed, attempting to rise in search of his errant first officer.

"Stop it, Jim!" urgent hands pressed upon him preventing him from rising and if he had known it, from further damaging himself. But he was beyond that. An irrational fear was consuming him. He needed Spock, needed to know that he was alright and alive. The absence of that comforting presence was maddening to his tattered psyche. He tried again to push his abused body to move.

He heard a familiar voice cursed.

"Nurse, bring me the tranquiliser!"

A pressure on his arm and his vision started to go foggy. His muscles turned heavy with an unnatural weakness. As darkness descended upon him, he felt the familiar blanket of warmth enveloping him. "Spock," he called out once, perhaps out loud and knew no more.

The second time he awoken was during ship's night to a darkened med-bay. A loud breathing informed him that he was not alone. For a moment, disorientation assailed him so strongly that he had to close his eyes momentarily. A beep sounded and he opened his bleary eyes. Beside him seated on the chair was McCoy, looking exhausted and sleep deprived, holding a medi-scanner in one hand. It was obvious to Kirk that McCoy had been keeping vigil by his bedside.

"How're you feeling?" asked McCoy eyeing him critically.

The doctor's voice was rough with sleep and a part of Jim felt guilty for making McCoy worry, again.

"Alright," he answered truthfully. He still felt slightly sore, especially in certain places but at the moment not in immediate pain. There was something else more pertinent than his current health. He felt fine, after all, at least physically speaking.

Inside he was once again overwhelmed with a sense of anxiety that seemed to be escalating for every second that Spock was not around. Never mind what had happened or how they had managed to figure out how to separate the both of them from their previously shared body. Kirk just needed to know that the Vulcan was alright.

"Where's Spock?" Kirk inquired, trying to project a calm he did not feel.

McCoy sighed, obviously expecting the question. "He's fine, Jim," which would have been the greatest news Kirk had received so far but for the wariness he detected in his friend's voice. Something was not right. It was obvious in McCoy's evasiveness.

"And?" Kirk prompted trying for patience.

"You should be more concern of your own well-being, captain," the admonishment and the use of his rank did not escape Kirk. He now knew for sure that all was not well after all, despite the assurance that Spock's life and health were in no immediate danger.

"You have been in a coma for nearly three days, there were moments we really thought that we'd lost you" McCoy said, voice serious.

"Bones...,"Kirk interrupted, "where is Spock?"

"Are you even listening to a word I said, Jim?"

The honest answer to that question would be a 'no' but some of McCoy's words did filter through. "Just tell me where he is Bones, please," he said. Something in his voice made McCoy's expression softened. Kirk held his friend's gaze expectantly.

"He is confined to quarters, Jim." McCoy said finally after seconds of silence. Kirk could see his friend's guarded demeanor, even tired as he was and it did not bode well.

Confined to quarters? Why? Feeling stricken, he tried to push himself up, upsetting the IV lines and the tubes surrounding him. He did not get very far, his own body started rebelling in the form of acute pain radiating from various locations, squeezing his breath and tore a strangle cry of pain from him. McCoy cursed under his breath.

"Enough, Jim," admonished McCoy as he helped Kirk to settle back on the bed.

"Please, for your own sake stay still," pleaded McCoy.

Kirk didn't reply, still reeling from the pain. He hardly heard McCoy as his mind churned, searching, calling and probing his hardest for Spock. For a connection he knew was still there but to no avail. He was alone.

And then it hit him. The fact that he was admitted to the med-bay with Spock confined to quarters. What his condition must have looked like if it was so bad that Spock had to call the medic to intervene.

Oh no, oh shit.

"This isn't Spock's fault, Bones," Kirk started and McCoy looked at him sharply from where he was still arranging the medical lines.

"Not now, Jim, you need to rest."

"No, Bones, please hear me out," Kirk pleaded. McCoy needed to know this, needed to understand, that none of this was Spock's fault.

His friend sighed knowing full well that Kirk wouldn't let it go until he got what he wanted. The alternative to talking was to knock Kirk out again with sedatives but the amount of it in his body would accumulate and be dangerous. Kirk knew this fact very well from his previous experience in sickbay and took full advantage of it. From McCoy's open displeasure, Kirk knew the doctor was aware of this too.

"Only if you promise to rest afterwards," McCoy said in a tone of voice that brooked no arguments. Fine, Kirk would compromise as long as he got his point across.

Kirk nodded his consent and McCoy took the vacated seat. Kirk took a deep breath and plunged into an explanation.

"It was consensual, Bones," he explained tiredly once again. McCoy sighed rubbing his face wearily.

"I know, Jim," McCoy said, "But it is still a dangerous thing. You nearly died. What if it happens again?"

Kirk obviously had no answer to that.

"Spock refused to say anything although he explained to me in private about what had transpired. The rest was plain to see. If I am to follow regulations, Jim, I should have this reported to Starfleet." McCoy said seriously. "It's not a matter that I can let slide so easily."

That scared Kirk. "Please, Bones. Please keep Starfleet out of this. They will have him court-martialed and expelled."

McCoy shrugged. "You need to speak with Spock about this, Jim. Although from the looks of it, things are not gonna be easy. I can use my medical prerogative and of course, you're captain so you can use yours. But I don't know what sort of justification could be used about this."

McCoy was absolutely right of course, there was really no other way around it.

Kirk's inquiry about how the body separation occurred was not met with a proper response either. According to McCoy, he was brought to sickbay already separated from Spock and the Vulcan himself claimed that he did not have an explanation for it.

There was also the whole mind-meld thing Kirk knew should probably mention. But apparently McCoy detected nothing wrong with his brains, yet, and Kirk reassured the doctor that he was fine and not coerced in any way. McCoy fussed over the possibility of Kirk developing post-traumatic stress. Kirk insisted profusely that he was fine.

Yes, it looked bad and yes, probably it was bad for his body. Kirk could understand his friend's indignation regarding the situation. That didn't mean that he was accepting of it. He and Spock alone knew what had transpired between them in that room, on that fateful night. At the time, of course, he had thought that it was only a dream. He could not remember much of the aftermath. Only that he had felt warm and safe and happy.

At the moment however, happiness was the furthest away from his thoughts. Yes, he was aware that he was alive and that in itself was a miracle and one he should be grateful for. But he was human and he had feelings damn it, no matter how many people thought otherwise and he was beyond concern regarding Spock's emotional well-being.

'Well,' Kirk thought grimly. 'It's time to face the music.'

A week later and everything had changed yet everything remained the same.

Kirk was eventually released from sickbay after several days of being consistently poked and prodded upon until he was literally sick of it. The medical crew who attended him that night was reminded (warned) to not let any information regarding the captain's condition to be released to anyone else without direct permission from either McCoy or Kirk. McCoy had done a splendid job at keeping everyone quiet and there was still the clause of patient confidentiality issues that cannot be breached but Kirk thought it prudent to keep all of them under the code of silence anyway. Compliance was swift.

Spock was released from confinement and reinstated back to his position by the captain's prerogative. Nothing else was spoken of the matter. The least said about that entire week from weird-land the better.

The both of them returned to normal, or what was closest to normality that they could. For nothing was ever the same again. They recovered splendidly professionally. No one could have noticed the difference. The command duo was as efficient as ever; even more so. But there was, if one knew where to look a blemish in the clean hierarchy of command.

As for Jim?

Jim was heartbroken.

A chasm had opened between him and Spock separating them even further from what they were before the whole incident. There was no other way to describe it. Good God, it made him sound like a yearning schoolboy but it was killing him inside every day to be so close to Spock yet so distant.

Kirk, in the beginning thought it prudent to allow Spock to come to terms with what had happened and allowed the Vulcan respite. He reigned himself from rushing Spock or even seeking him out in private regardless of how difficult it was for him. Kirk's whole body ached with it. Ache with a want and desire so prevalent and strong, it physically hurts to just look at Spock. It was the pain of a phantom limb after an amputation.

He gritted his teeth and tried to move on as best as he could and wished fervently that Spock would return to him.

But time ticked and days passed and Spock was still elusive as ever.

Kirk's resolved was beginning to strain. Falling asleep was impossible because his slumber was full of dreams of Spock leaving him for dead again and again repeated in a loop every night. Sometimes he thought he could hear thoughts – Spock's for sure but there were muted and gone like sand slipping through his fingers.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, as he lay in bed weeping in the aftermath of another nightmare, Kirk wondered if this was how madness felt like.

Kirk raised a trembling hand to wipe at his cool, sweaty brow. He had been developing this headache ever since he was released from the sickbay. It wasn't much of a pain, really, more like a buzz at the back of his mind but it was there and he could not shake it away. The sleepless nights and his waning appetite were making it worse.

His body, despite the recovery, was full of bruises, mapping the contours of his skin blue and black. McCoy was understandably livid with anger when he had first seen the extent of Kirk's injury. Kirk only wondered what unfortunate words had been exchanged between Bones and Spock as he recuperated in sickbay.

He shuddered.

The end of alpha shift was nigh and Kirk shook his head gently in an attempt to clear it. For a while now, he had felt some sort of pressure behind his cranium. This morning he had awakened to a small buzzing at the back of his head. Now it had grown into a full blown headache threatening to split his head into two. The command room was almost too bright for his suddenly sensitive eyes. He rubbed at his brows, hoping to clear some of the fuzziness away.

"Are you well, sir?"

Kirk opened his eyes to find Uhura eyeing him concernedly.

He fought the urge to rub at his forehead, again. "I am fine, lieutenant."

Uhura looked unconvinced. "You are looking a little pale, sir, are you sure you are alright?" she said quietly so that she won't be overheard. Kirk appreciated the discretion. Now, was not a good time to fall apart in front of the crew, not after what had happened previously.

"Yes," he intoned, more forceful than he intended. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sulu straightened even more in his seat, obviously eaves-dropping. Kirk sighed inwardly. One day, he needed to reprimand his command team for being the nosy bastards that they were. "I am fine, lieutenant," he continued, much gentler this time. Whatever was wrong with his life was not Uhura's fault.

She nodded, although the concern did not fade from her eyes. "Very well, sir. I need you to sign this report for me, please." She produced the padd she had been carrying. Forcing himself to focus, he scanned the report. As usual, Uhura's work was exemplary. He endorsed the document and returned it to her with a smile. "Excellent as always, Uhura. Relay my gratitude to the communication's team," he said by way of praise.

Uhura beamed at him. "Thank you, sir."

Kirk nodded and she returned to her position. He inwardly sighed. They were just assigned a new mission yesterday one that was simple enough on paper as per usual. The Enterprise was now en route to pick up an ambassador from a newly minted federation planet called Eboran. Nothing too difficult, no beaming down was necessary. It was a boring mission but for the first time Kirk was not complaining. As a matter of fact, he thanked the Lord that for once, the high command had gotten it right regarding mission distributions. In his current state of internal unrest, he doubted he would be very efficient in a crisis.

Kirk hated this; whatever this was. This was worse than before. At least he had the excuse of sharing a body with a bloody Vulcan to blame for the chaos of his mental faculty then. The swishing sound of a turbolift door jarred Kirk from his mind wanderings. He silently cursed. This was getting worse. At this rate, he would risk his command to his erroneous condition. Perhaps, McCoy was right. He was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress.

He needed to get out of here. He needed, he needed, he knew who exactly he needed but he can't...can he? He was the captain of this vessel with responsibilities and command image to maintain so he can't want this. He should not allow personal issues to jeopardise his ability to function as a leader. The pain suddenly intensified then, throbbing fiercely and he nearly groaned in discomfort. He forced himself to calm down. It would not do to pass out in the bridge.

"Mr Sulu," he called in the calmest tone he could muster. "You have the con." He barely heard Sulu's reply of an acknowledgement before he – didn't quite – stumble out of the command room. He paid no heed to the questioning eyes and worried glances.

Staggering, he pushed his body to move. He was glad that the corridor was deserted; he took this particular route simply because it's in a section seldom used by the crewmen. It was a risky gamble as he stumbled again and there were chances he could collapse here without anyone knowing. His breathing was too rapid and vision was fuzzy as if he was looking through a cotton ball.

Shit. Kirk grasped the side of the deck for support as he swayed, sweating profusely. Please, he thought. Help me. At this rate he wondered if he could even make it to his cabin. He pushed himself forward, using the wall to support his weight but dark spots were swimming in his vision and his knees felt incredibly heavy…

"...tain!" A concern voice and a pair of strong arms caught him mid-swoon. "Captain!"

Against all odds, the blasted fog in his mind cleared although his knees still felt like jelly. He released a breath as warm chest supported his back and he closed his eyes for a moment longer, feeling finally safe and sound. He knew who it was holding him, could feel the pulse of him surrounding his very being. Kirk sighed, contented. Finally, he thought. I could lie here and die in peace. He allowed himself to drift further into the warmth.

"Captain," the tone was laced with concern. "Jim?"

Warm fingers shook him urgently. He opened his eyes and they were no longer clouded. "Hey," he whispered, a little inanely, but his mind did a little rejoicing jig at their proximity as his fingers decided to run themselves over one elegant pointy ear. His 'saviour' turned a little green at that.

"Stop it, Jim," Spock said although he didn't sound too displeased. Kirk vaguely remembered McCoy telling him the same thing not too long ago.

It was Spock, of course. And both of them knew it that they'd better move this little charade elsewhere before they terrify unsuspecting crewmen. Spock readily manhandled him to his quarters, but he wasn't complaining. He still felt weak, although the buzzing and the headache had ceased the moment Spock was near, he noted in lazy understanding. McCoy would be so delighted to learn about this little piece of information, he was sure.

In silence, Spock hauled his captain home. Once, in the privacy of the quarters, he carefully placed Kirk on the bed. But his strength returning, Kirk slowly pushed himself to sit up. He still felt slightly out of sorts although that could be contributed to Spock's proximity, he realised with a little pang, that this was the first time they had been alone together since that fateful night.

"How are you feeling, captain?"

Wonderful, Kirk thought bitterly. Back to captain again. This was bullshit and he was so sick of it. All the good feelings he had experienced moments before fled like a wisp of smoke in the wind.

"Why are we doing this?" Kirk demanded instead, ignoring Spock's question.

Spock stared at him blankly. "Pardon, me, captain?"

"Don't play dumb Spock, you know what I meant."

The sudden uneasiness in Spock's stance was easy to read despite his Vulcan surface composure.

Kirk felt something then, at the back of his head like a touch of emotion. Spock's emotion he noticed. Hidden and buried from him behind iron walls. But this near, he could sense it veiled though as it may seemed. Perhaps it would explain Spock's reluctance to be near him after the divide. They could still feel each other still. Whatever happened, the after-effects of the meld lingered binding them both.

Spock looked rueful as if he realised Kirk's understanding.

"I hurt you, captain. Even now," he said voice quiet and tightly controlled although his words made absolutely no sense to Kirk.

Furthermore, that composure for some reason incensed Kirk and sets him off.

"You think that you have the right to shut me out?" he demanded, voice cold and low, eyes keen and hard on the Vulcan. "For one single moment Spock did you even consider my feelings in your equation?"

"Captain, please," Spock parlayed looking troubled. "Please see sense, I have spoken to Dr McCoy and he and I can see that what have been done to you is dangerous and hazardous -" but Kirk did not allow him to finish. He rounded on Spock.

"Well, too bad because neither Bones nor you can make the decision about how I should feel about this. I can't do this without you Spock. I just can't," he said fiercely and meant every single word.

Incredibly, Kirk's confession made Spock looked even more determined. "You do not understand the danger, captain. I could have killed you! You have saved my life and for that I would be forever in your debt, but I am afraid that this cannot continue."

"Explain," Kirk said, crossing his arms so as to stop himself from shaking Spock senseless.

Spock look alarmed. "Captain?"

Deep down Kirk knew that his control upon his emotion and his mental faculty was in tatters. In normal times, he might have been alarmed by his own uncontrollable fury but this was not normal times. Something in him had snapped. Was everything they shared on that night, the night that changed everything for Kirk meant nothing at all to Spock?

"This danger you speak of. I don't understand it. You said that this is something that happened only every seven years for Vulcans. So an explanation, if you please, on why you are so fearful of it?"

Spock's look was one of open disbelief. "Is it not enough to know that I am doing it for your sake captain?"

"I don't care!" Kirk yelled, livid.

What the hell was wrong with Spock? Why couldn't he see how important this was to Kirk?

"I can't concentrate Spock, can't sleep and I have nightmares of you leaving me for dead every night," Kirk said in a whisper, feeling his heart breaks at the memory of a horrific scene. "I feel as if a part of me, an integral part is missing."

"It is the telepathic connection," Spock said looking immensely distressed. "I thought I have ensured no lasting impression upon you."

Kirk was aghast. So Spock himself had actually tried to break the connection between them, without his consent. Now the nightmare and its origins became clear to Kirk. How dare Spock!

"Am I not eloquent enough of my intent that night?" Kirk demanded advancing himself on the stricken Vulcan.

Spock for his part did not even look at him. "Yes, you made your intent very clear. I am grateful and I have no wish to distress you further but it is best if we cease pursuing an intimate relationship."

Why thought Kirk. No.

How in the universe did they went from that wonderful night to this ruse? Kirk felt his anger drained to full-fledged fear of losing Spock.

"I love you, Spock, please, I know that you feel the same too...please" Kirk was begging, he knew it; knew how ridiculous and undignified his behaviour was but he was desperate to get this through to Spock.

"I am sorry captain," Spock said although the tinge of regret in his voice was unmistakable. Let it go," his voice was calm and placating but it was not good enough for Kirk.

"Spock..." he began, willing Spock to listen to him and accept him again. The expression on Spock's face was resolute.

"We should sever the mind connection permanently," Spock said into the quiet like a death knell.

Kirk's face fell.

He suddenly felt cold all over as if his entire being was being plunged into a pool of ice.

The bright light of the cabin was dimmed and Kirk felt his heart thudded loudly in his chest in the ensuing silence. How dare Spock say such a thing! He glared at the Vulcan.

"Sever it," Kirk said incredulously, tasting the ridiculous word in his tongue as if it was poisoned. "Sever it?"

To be continued

Oh dear, if I'm not careful, Jim would be in a whole lot of pain before the end. Ah well. No fear, all of Spock's reasons will be explained in the next chapter. As always, thanks for reading and feel free to leave a comment!

x Albukirky