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.
"They'd come all the way for this? Which mad astronomer had sent them out here? Whose twisted idea had it been?"
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.
– Home-Part 13 of 35 –
It was warm. Jim wriggled his body around, the heat felt good. The soft surface he was lying on felt good too-hmmm, nice cozy blanket.
A voice said something.
His heart started beating faster. Who was intruding? Why were they trying to wake him up and why didn't he understand them?
Finally he could hear the words, but the meaning of them eluded him and he didn't know who was saying them. He opened his eyes.
A spring balanced operating light shone directly into his eyes. Bones angled it away from his face.
"Jim, how are you?"
His heart started to calm down. He pushed the thermal blanket off his chest and noted that the pain in his ribcage was almost completely gone.
"Feel a lot better, thanks," he said.
Bones ran his tricorder over him; the corners of his mouth were upturned.
"Thanks for putting me back together." Jim made the effort to sit up.
"Yeah, well don't count on me having the patience to do it again next time you get in trouble."
Jim smiled.
"I'm glad you're happy to be alive," Bones said, "or maybe it's just the drugs. "Going into that mountain with a mad Vulcan definitely counts as suicidal in my books."
Jim looked around the room, but couldn't see Spock anywhere.
"That green blooded goblin is in his quarters. I've taken him off-duty, and you too. Few days off won't matter, though Sulu's already complaining that they need Spock's help."
Bones leant over him to check the bio-bed's readouts before continuing. "Spock's report to me left a lot to be desired, but I didn't like the sound of what he said happened to him one bit, so I banned him from going down to the surface-though he said you'd already done that. I was glad to hear you haven't completely lost your wits. Both of you need to get better at any rate."
It was draining to sit upright, so closed his eyes and lay back. Bones continued to hover. Jim cracked an eye open and took in his friend's raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, of course, Bones-don't worry, I agree with you. I'm not going to rush off back to the surface first thing tomorrow morning. And Spock won't be allowed to go down Saketh for the time being."
"No, he won't be until I give him the all-clear," the doctor said and turned away.
It had taken Jim only a few hours sleep in sickbay to recover and then he'd retreated to his quarters for the rest of the night. He leant back into his couch seat and swung his legs up onto the low table in front of it, dislodging a few reports. The clatter as they hit the smooth, red floor was satisfying in ways Jim couldn't even start to describe. Looking down at the mess he'd created, he saw that one of the PADDs was still active; it was Spock's report.
A grimace spread across his face at the sight of it. He closed his eyes and sagged back into his seat. What had happened to Spock in the Katric ark had alarmed and confused him. He'd had high hopes Spock would've just been able to explain it all logically. But he hadn't been able to, so he'd ordered Sulu not to go near that place.
He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. In his mind's eye he saw him. Spock.
They'd kissed. Shit, this couldn't be real, could it?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes still closed as he held that memory in his mind and turned it over, trying to feel its shape, poking at it. But like all apart from the most horrific memories he had it wasn't very clear. As he sought to re-live what had happened, he found that the more he reflected on the feel of his hand on Spock's face, his lips on his, the harder his heart started hammering against his still tender ribs. All kinds of emotions welled up inside him, but out of all of them, excitement was the dominant one.
Deep inside him he felt an itch to do something about it-he was an explorer by nature, he always had been, it was his true passion. He allowed his mind to wander in that direction, how it might feel to have those strong Vulcan hands all over him. In his life he'd done many stupid things just to get attention … he didn't want to add another to the list.
The door chime rang.
Spock, he thought.
"Come in."
Spock stepped into Jim's quarters. Like Jim, he still looked slightly bruised from the bashing they'd received earlier. But his hair was perfect, his hands were clasped firmly behind his back and he was standing tall.
Jim moved some of the PADDs from his couch to his table. "Spock, have a seat."
Spock came over, placing his hands on his knees when he was seated next to him. His face was set as hard as flint. The report on the floor was still open and Jim reached for it like a life-line. He started to question Spock on a few details and Spock replied to each of his queries.
Jim looked down at the report in his hands again. They'd reached the end of it. Time was up.
"Spock?"
The Vulcan raised one of his eyebrows. Jim moved closer so that their thighs were touching. With baited breath he waited, but Spock stayed firmly where he was, allowing the contact. Jim's back and shoulder muscles relaxed almost instantly. Growing bold he placed his hand on Spock's; and when there was no sign of protest he gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I'm glad you're ok," he said in a quiet voice.
Spock was silent, but his clear eyes softened for a moment. Jim couldn't hold back a smile now. Whenever Spock allowed him one of those rare glimpses behind his mask it always made him beam inside and out.
He looked down, aware that he should probably withdraw his hand now. But it didn't feel awkward to leave it on Spock's either. He wondered how Spock felt about that. Vulcans probably didn't find any of this touchy feely stuff very logical. But he was human and needed these very physical demonstrations of friendship. What about Spock with his unique human side? Maybe he needed them too, but because he grew up on Vulcan … how lonely must he have been growing up?
Jim felt a small, hard lump form in his throat and wrapped his fingers around Spock's hand, holding it tightly.
"Spock," he breathed, "that mind meld stuff you can do … how does it work? You can share your emotions that way, right?"
Spock removed his hand and leant over Jim to take the PADD on which his report was open.
"The Katric ark-," Spock began.
Jim furrowed his brow. "Spock, please. Let's not talk about the mission."
Spock looked down at the PADD and back up. "I am afraid I do not understand, Captain."
Jim wasn't sure how he'd managed to confuse Spock, as he thought they'd changed topic, but apparently not. Maybe he would have to be more forward.
"I was just wondering," Jim said, "no real reason, just wanted to know how your telepathy works. You use your fingers, don't you?"
Spock stared at him for a few seconds, before setting the PADD to one side.
"While our telepathy is not a closely guarded secret, it is not something we discuss with outsiders, as we consider its use to be very intimate."
"I won't go telling everyone about it."
"You are aware the electrical signals the central nervous system generates are strong and can be measured with ease."
It wasn't phrased as a question as such, but Jim still felt the need to reply. "Yes, of course. Ah, I think I can see where this is going … the electrical fields our brain generates, they get through the skull and carry on further into the space around someone's head, don't they?"
"Correct. All Vulcans have the ability to pick up those signals, but instinctively our minds are shielded. We have to learn to un-shield our minds by essentially 'turning down the volume' of noise from our neurons, so that it is quiet enough for us to hear them."
"But you can do more than just listen … ."
"How did you gain so much knowledge on the subject?"
"Um … I'll tell you another time maybe."
Jim fully expected Spock to protest that, but instead he seemed content, in fact his gaze softened, almost knowingly. It made Jim squirm in his seat.
"To truly meld minds," Spock went on, "I would need to touch the other person."
"So you use your hands to make a direct connection?"
Spock's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Sorry," Jim said, "I'll let you explain and won't interrupt anymore."
"The minds must no longer be able to distinguish which thoughts are its own and which are foreign. For this to happen, both minds must be quiet. With our fingers we can touch pressure points on the skull, to manipulate bloodflow. We often chant, too, to help focus both minds.
"The process is impossible without being able to feel another's pulse, to feel the heat of their skin—or lack thereof. If I were to attempt a meld with an alien I would have to know their body as if it were my own if I were to have any chance to match my signals to theirs."
Then Spock averted his eyes. "Vulcans can also use the same techniques to dominate another's mind."
So that's what Spock had done to the Romulan on the Narada.
"So the hands help in an indirect way?" Jim said quickly. He didn't want Spock's mind to wander to that day. And he got the feeling he wouldn't get his friend to share his emotions with him after all, despite how well the conversation had been going up until that last confession. Damnit, he hated talking about his feelings.
Spock nodded. He'd returned his hand to his knee.
Jim stared at it, debating whether he could get away with giving it another squeeze.
Spock followed his gaze. "Our hands are five times as sensitive as a human's; that is how we can know another's body through touch alone."
Well, that was a good excuse! This time he reached out with both of his hands to take Spock's.
He grinned. "So I'd need three more hands to make this equal?"
He willed his heart not to start beating faster and of course, as when someone told you not to think about pink elephants, it had the opposite effect.
Spock pulled his hand away. He held out his middle and his index finger.
"This," he said, "is how Vulcans show affection."
Jim studied the pale face; the usually firm lips were shaking minutely.
The sight caused Jim's breath to hitch. He quickly folded one of his hands in the Vulcan gesture. Then Spock touched their fingertips together.
"Is this a kiss?" Jim whispered.
"It is … everything humans express through a multitude of physical gestures. We have only this one as our hands are so sensitive. It is a hug, a kiss, a caress."