Title: Home (Multichapter fic with 35 parts)
Beta: Lissaea at Livejournal
Warnings, Themes and Tropes, etc.: bondage, torture, prostitution, explicit sex, drug use
Summary: The Vulcans need a new home planet, so the Enterprise and her crew set out to find one for them.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.
– Home (Part 2 of 35) –
Bones came to see him that night; no doubt he'd seen the news.
"Jim," he said in greeting, "house visit!"
"I'm ill?" Jim asked.
Bones looked at him sideways. "I know I've been going on about this for months, but you're not getting enough rest, even now that we're just hanging around waiting for new orders. Now I know we've been through this. But please, take these."
He pressed a bottle of pills into Jim's hand. "I know you don't want to be drugged up when there might be a red alert in the middle of the night. You want to be able to wake up and be ready for action, but now… while we're waiting… please? I think even a few days of good sleep would help you."
He walked past Jim and sat down on his couch. Jim looked at the pills. "The last ones you gave me were red, these are bright green."
"Different dosage, that's all."
"Ah, right."
He sat down on his couch next to Bones. "You've seen the news I take it?"
"I just can't believe that green hobgoblin," Bones said in reply. "His private affairs have just been broadcast to the quadrant and he doesn't care. You and him are friends for some strange reason I can't determine. Can you tell me what's wrong with him?"
"Bones, you know he has feelings, don't be like that."
"I know he wanted to strangle you, but that's no proof at all, Jim-wanting to strangle you, that's just logical, that is!"
A smile crept onto Jim's face. The sight was rarer now than when he'd been a cadet, but Bones company was almost always soothing, the exception being when Jim found himself an unwilling patient in sickbay.
"Just don't tell Spock that, okay?" Jim winked.
This in turn made Bones laugh and Jim finally took a seat next to his friend.
"Spock being stung by love?" Bones shook his head, "Nahh, no way. But I suppose this will hurt his career and for a Vulcan that's probably the equivalent to the heartache we humans go through when we're stupid enough to give our heart to someone."
Jim grunted his disapproval, but he didn't bother to reply further to Bones' comments. He knew how soft Bones' heart really was. This was just his very special way of dealing with Spock, who Bones considered to be a cold hearted bastard.
Bones didn't look too good himself now that Jim took a closer look.
"Is anything wrong?" Jim said.
"Urgh. Seems the dragon got bored of banging my lawyer and has focused her attention back on making my life hell. Love sure can screw you over, can't it?"
Jim didn't reply; he just didn't know what to say. While he wanted Bones to know he was there to listen, he also wanted to take Bones's mind off these things, since there was little Bones could do about his ex-wife's outbursts.
"Hello? Anyone home?" Bones grumbled.
"I'm here, I'm listening."
"You ever had to deal with a vindictive ex?"
Jim considered his reply. "No, not really."
"Lucky for some."
"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Jim said and grinned, seeing an opening to lead the conversation in slightly a different direction.
He leant towards Bones. "I just have excellent taste."
"No you don't."
"That's what you always say." He winked. "Oh, I've made a few mistakes, such as that woman back on Rigel V. But love makes blind fools out of all of us, doesn't it?"
Bones laughed so hard he started chocking.
When he had gained control again he said with a red face, "You think that's love? You know, I think we've been talking past one another all these years. That's not the sort of love I was talking about! I was referring to when, … when two people find one another … . That notion you have of love, that's all superficial. Knights in shining armor rescuing purple prin-,"
"Purple and tentacled," Jim corrected, standing up and then swinging himself up onto his desk in front of the chair Bones had taken.
"Fine - purple and tentacled princesses … well, it's all just fluff and no substance."
"I know, I know," Jim said and threw his hands up into the air. "You're right. But what can I do? I'm a sucker for love!"
"Ahem."
Jim narrowed his eyes. "Sucker for what I mistake for love?"
"That's better! Well, I'm off. See you later!"
And with that he left Jim's quarters.
Right, he had to act. Jim turned around to face the computer screen on his desk. There had to be some way he could help Spock with this media shit storm. After losing his planet, Jim was sure Spock must be in terrible pain, and he couldn't even start to imagine what sort of help Spock was really in need of. He swallowed past a hard knot that was forming in his throat.
What the Admiralty would think, how it wasn't his place to plead on Spock's behalf, how it was unprofessional, those were all thoughts Jim pushed from his mind so he could focus on the communication he was drafting to Admiral Pike. Somehow Jim had to convince Pike to lobby for Starfleet not to start an enquiry against Spock.
The punching bag swung towards Jim. He waited until the last moment to kick it hard with the ball of his foot, sending it spinning in the opposite direction again. One moment he held himself in balance, one foot in the air, the other on the ground, the next his foot slipped and he smacked onto the floor. Back the bag came, Jim jumping up to hit it with his left fist this time. Pike still hadn't sent a reply, what was taking him so long?
In the corner of his vision he saw Lieutenant Trentino walk up to him. The man was older than Jim, and part of his responsibilities on the ship included managing the gym and keeping the crew in shape by planning their training.
"Careful there, Captain," he said, "You certainly seem to have some issues with that poor bag."
Jim stopped the bag with the left side of his body.
Trentino shook his head slowly. "I know this is a young crew, but I've never seen any crew punish a boxing sack so much. That people physically try and punish themselves after a mission gone wrong, that I've seen it before, its normal, but you and most others on this ship are in that state the entire time."
Jim's chest was still heaving from the exertion, and sweat was beading on his forehead. He wiped it away and looked down at his feet.
"Vulcan's destruction-."
Jim nodded quickly. "I know."
Lieutenant Trentino hadn't been there, he didn't know what it was like, so Jim felt there was no use in getting draw into any discussion with the man. A few hasty excuses later Jim was off to the showers. It didn't take an expert to work out that the atmosphere on the Enterprisewas different to that on any other ship of the fleet and why that was so. His crew were who they were and he didn't want to change that.
That night Jim lay in bed staring longingly at the pill bottle Bones had given him, which now rested on his nightstand. Bones was right, wasn't he? There was no reason he shouldn't take one. At that moment Uhura called him to inform him she had a call from Pike waiting for him.
"Put it through to my room now," he said.
He rushed to his wardrobe, took off his pajama top, threw on his uniform undershirt and accepted the call from Pike at his desk.
Jim grinned. "Sir, thank you for calling me in reply to my messages. I appreciate it, really."
"This whole situation is rather embarrassing for everyone." Pike sighed before continuing, "no one really wants to see this lead to an inquest. Do you think I do? But we can't bend the rules, not when the public is watching and paying such close attention to our every move. There will be an inquest, the question just remains when it will be held and who will be on the panel, not if."
Jim swallowed and looked away from the screen.
"Kirk," Pike said sternly and Jim snapped to attention. But the admiral's eyes were warm and understanding. "You would not have gotten command of this vessel if I myself had any concerns about your ability to understand the need to enforce the rules and regulations. That is something we expect in every Starfleet captain. You use your brain and don't follow those rules blindly yourself, which makes you a superb officer in my opinion."
Worry crept into Pikes eyes. "So what is this about? Is it about Spock? Is he not coping? Heaven knows he's been through enough already."
Jim considered his reply. Spock was doing his job just fine and obviously he'd been through worse-everyone knew that. Spock wouldn't let this get to him. But still…
Jim swallowed hard. Spock was … when he pictured Spock in his mind … he saw the man who'd trusted him with his life on Nero's ship as he'd rifled through a Romulan's mind; the man who'd piloted the Vulcan spaceship straight into the heart of the enemy vessel, and the man who'd marooned him on Delta Vega, too, of course-he'd never underestimated Spock since.
Jim rubbed his temples with his fingers. "No, Spock's … I guess he's ok. Yeah, he'll probably be fine."
Pike relaxed and a thin smile crept onto his face. "Well, if that's all, Captain, I've got work to do."
Jim took off his undershirt again, folded it neatly, then grabbed the pills, went to the bathroom for water and took two as the label instructed him to. He picked up his pajama top from the floor, and just about managed to get it on before falling into bed where blissful nothingness took him into her arms.