Title: Home (Multichapter fic with 35 parts)

Beta: un-beta'd D: D: D:

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 26 of 35 –

"I'm sorry, but you can't just come in here," a guard said, blocking Maxime's entrance to the Vulcan settlement in San Francisco.

Maxime produced his press pass. "I'm here to do some research for a documentary. I want to interview some Vulcan survivors."

The guard narrowed her eyes. "Come with me, sir."

She led him into a building adjacent to the main road into the community.

"Sit there and wait while I make some calls."

Fine, he could wait. Although he didn't have his network's approval, he had the approval of a Vulcan ambassador. Sure, not the approval of Vulcan's ambassador to Earth, but some other important Vulcan ambassador. An old man, who was possibly going senile as when he'd asked which planet he was ambassador to he'd replied 'Romulus'. On top of that the Vulcan seemed rather emotional, maybe another sign that he'd gone a bit loopy. But Maxime decided he didn't care if he was taking advantage of an old man-he just needed access to the community.

As soon as Jim ended the call to Dr Sargoni he was able to let his feelings have free reign over his body. His hands had already been shaking, now the other muscles in his body followed suit, until his whole body was trembling. Vulcan was gone. He hadn't been able to stop Nero from massacring a whole race and destroying their home. Tears stung his eyes. He'd tried so hard to suppress the anger, the pain, the feeling of uselessness, but he couldn't hold it in anymore. Not when faced with the very real consequences of what had happened that day. Consequences Spock lived with every single fucking day. How did the man even manage to get up in the morning?

Jim buried his face in his hands. He'd struggled to find his way back to normalcy, but there was no normalcy for Spock to go back to and he'd selfishly ignored that. The harsh truth was that he hadn't be able to handle that thought, hadn't been able to deal with Spock's overwhelming devastation and so he'd pushed all that to one side and pretended it didn't exist. Had he ever asked Spock how he was feeling? No. And ever since their first kiss he'd tried to mould their relationship into what he wanted it to be, regardless of whether such a relationship was even possible for Spock considering all he was going through.

A light on his computer terminal flashed. He had a message from headquarters. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down.

Rendezvous at Saketh with the USS Excalibur. They are carrying a contingent of Vulcan scientists who will assist you in your joint mission to establish the suitability of Saketh for resettlement of the Vulcan survivors.

Jim wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up straight in his chair. He could accept those orders. As long as Barrows didn't take them off the mission, it was all fine by him and the more ships they had to fight the pirates with the better. There was no point in wishing that another ship with another captain had been sent—he'd tried to save the Heuygen's system from the Klingons and made an enemy of Patel in the process. It was just another thing he had to live with.

He cleared his throat. "Kirk to bridge. Set a course for Saketh immediately. Warp four."

The chronometer on his desk showed it was only four hours until he planned to be standing on the bridge again-there really was no point in trying to catch any sleep. He leant back in his chair. It would take about a week to get back to Saketh. Saketh, the planet that would never be 'home' to Spock, even if the Vulcans did resettle there. That place would never call to him when his time came.

He scooped up his PADDs, made himself a coffee and he sat down on the sofa-bench. All this time Spock had known he only had years left, maybe a decade at best. Bones had been right when he'd told Jim that Spock had had no one to talk to. He'd been a lousy friend to Spock-and a lousy lover, he now realized. It was embarrassing that he'd felt he'd needed drugs to help him understand the situation, when it really was so simple.

At no point in their relationship had Spock ever thrown his arms wide open to embrace Jim and invite him into his heart, but who could blame him? Spock had lost so much. At that thought Jim had to put his coffee down so it wouldn't spill, as his hands started to shake again. It took him a few deep breaths to control himself. He couldn't even start to comprehend the feeling of loss that Spock was carrying around inside him. It wasn't surprising he didn't want to open himself up to further pain, that he'd be cautious and that it would take even the most patient lover a lot of time and effort to get Spock to put down some of his amour.

What had he done to help Spock through the pain of losing everything he'd ever known? Nothing. He'd been too goddamned self-centered to think about anything other than how the relationship was affecting him. I'm frustrated, I'm paranoid, my sanity is in tatters. And he'd been demanding and pushy. When his feelings had grown he hadn't been content to allow Spock's the time they needed to develop, no, he'd pushed the grieving Vulcan to take their relationship to the next level, whether he was ready to or not. All or nothing, was the choice he'd given Spock

Would it've been that hard, really, to just let Spock be? To love and care for him without demanding anything in return? The answer to those questions wasn't straightforward, he knew. He wanted to be self-less, but he could ill afford to let his personal life distract him from his command.

He finished his coffee.

"Computer, locate Commader Spock."

The lights in the lab were turned down low to simulate night so that the plants in it would grow naturally, with a day and night cycle. Most of them were descended from Vulcan plants, but you wouldn't know it from how large and green their leaves were. It was as if a sub-tropical forest had invaded the biology labs. His first officer was standing on the other side of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, facing away from him.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?" his friend didn't turn around.

In a few shorts strides Jim crossed the room and stood next to him. Spock's face was basked in a luminescent green from the dim light reflected off the plants all around them. He looked so alien.

"Seems I'm not the only one who has trouble sleeping," he said.

"Vulcans can go for a week without sleep if necessary."

Jim shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea how long humans can last. I think my personal record is 63 hours. Doesn't mean it's any good for me."

"Is there something you wish to discuss?"

Spock still wasn't looking up. When Jim followed his gaze to see what it was he was staring at so intently he found he couldn't look away again.

It was the small plant they'd rescued from Saketh. They'd wanted to give it a chance to live and grow. He let his memory take him back to that place, that time … how different things had been between them then. They'd been looking forward, towards a brighter future.

He returned his eyes to Spock's face. And now where did they stand?

"I've been a useless friend recently, haven't I? And I was even worse at being your lover."

It spoke volumes that Spock didn't even try to correct him. Jim chuckled, but it was without humor. Things had gone wrong so quickly and so spectacularly.

"I miss our easy friendship and the closeness we shared," he added.

"So do I," Spock replied, and it warmed Jim to hear that.

Spock regarded him levelly. "You want to know what happened on the pirates' starbase."

He did, but he also knew that was the last thing Spock wanted to talk about.

"I know all about Pon Farr now," he said. "And what happened there, it wasn't Pon Farr, was it? Because you aren't going to survive the real thing, are you?" The last words were spoken in a whisper.

The edges of Spock's lips lifted slightly. "There are always possibilities. Those who currently predict my demise cannot claim to be in possession of all the facts; that would be an impossible feat."

"Now you're starting to sound like me." Jim couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

It hadn't crossed his mind that Spock might disagree with the experts, with his future self even, about his chances of survival, but he was overjoyed that he did. Spock hadn't lost his spark or his will to fight.

Taking a deep breath, Jim spoke quickly. "So, um, this is awkward." Understatement of the millennium. "But, well, how're you feeling now? Since it wasn't Pon Farr ... has whatever you were suffering passed completely? Do you need any kind of, eh, help?"

Spock studied him long and hard and he found it difficult to stay calm under such intense scrutiny.

"If it is not Pon Farr, and it seems likely that it is not, then it will not be fatal. I will endeavor to control myself."

That was as close to an admission as he was going to get from his friend that he was still suffering from strange symptoms. Jim didn't know how to react, he'd hoped Spock would just say that he was fine and that would be it.

"Does Bones know?"

"I have not informed the doctor yet, as the symptoms only returned a few hours ago. Jim-."

"I love you." There, he'd said it.

He looked up at Spock and searched his eyes. Spock's stance had thawed at his confession, his hands now resting at his sides. His eyes were as dark and mysterious as always.

"And I know you're not in the right place now for a proper relationship and that it was unfair of me to try and push you when you weren't ready. I didn't see that before, but I see it now."

He reached out with his hand and gently traced the line of his jaw. Hopefully he wasn't overstepping any boundaries, but the urge to touch Spock was too strong to resist and Spock so hard to figure out. Spock didn't flinched away, not this time.

"I'm not really sure where this leaves us," Jim said.

In reply Spock placed a hand over Jim's and squeezed it. They stood that way for minutes.

"I do not know either," Spock said eventually.

"You need some time to think?" Jim said, an understanding smile tugging at his lips.

Spock let go of Jim's hand. "Time to meditate."

"Do you need … ?"

Jim took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes lingered on the plant with the blue flower. Silence settled between them again.

Spock suddenly reached out and grabbed Jim's wrist. "When you told me you loved me, I could not control the beating of my heart."

His admission was underscored by him intertwining his fingers with Jim's.

"The depth of your feelings for me is not something I am presently able to return, though," Spock continued.

Jim held on tight to Spock's fingers. "Are you willing to give us chance?"

"You do not give up, do you?"

"Nope, never. As you said, there're always possibilities." Jim grinned.

Spock looked down at their hands. "Yes, it is possible that I will one day heal and will then want to give you my heart. I cannot think of anyone else I would be more likely to give it to. But that day may never come." He squeezed Jim's hand so tight that it hurt. "I must rely on my mental disciplines, or I will be consumed by the anger and grief that have taken over my heart."

"If I want to take the easy, painless route out, then all I have to do is walk through that door right now." Jim pointed towards its dark outline in the wall. "But you know what? I'd rather not live wondering what may have been if only I'd stuck with you during this time. They say that clear skies follow every rainstorm, but you and I both know that the people who say that are the ones who made it through the storm, not those who fell by the wayside. If you're willing to put up a fight, them I'm willing to stand by your side and be there for you when you need shelter and comfort, whether you make it through or not."

Spock withdrew his hand from Jim's. "I do not believe such a one-sided relationship would be a healthy one. You cannot hope that I will be able to give you anything in return for all that you offer me."

Jim sighed. "You're right. It wouldn't be healthy, I agree-like I said, the painless way out for me is through that door over there."

He turned away from Spock and walked over to the nearest bulkhead—he reached out for it. All he felt at first was the coldness of the metal, but once his fingers adjusted to the sensation he could feel the steady low rumbling of the Enterprise, and it gave him an immense comfort. It was not unlike touching Spock.

"But you know how I make my command decisions during a crisis? Intuitively. And that's not illogical. On training missions, during my tours of duty at the academy, through commanding this ship, even through sitting in lectures and reading books, I've built up a wealth of information to draw upon. When push comes to shove, the intuitive decisions I make are based on all my experiences to date."

"You do what feels right."

Jim couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, exactly." He smiled softly. "And this, us, it feels right. Remember down on Saketh, when the sun was rising after the first day we'd spent there? I know you allowed your guard to drop then and what I saw wasn't anger. It was hope. You will get through this, I know it."

He grinned broadly. "I feel it."

Spock walked to the door. "Will you spend what's left of the night with me?"

Jim's breath caught in his throat. They'd never spent the night together and Spock knew how much that had bothered him. He understood this was Spock's way of reaching out to him. It wasn't much compared to how far Jim was willing to go in putting Spock's needs ahead of his own, but it was symbolic; Spock was showing him that he was ready to put himself outside of his comfort zone too for Jim's sake.

Jim pushed past Spock and pinched his ass. "Your quarters or mine?"

Jim felt himself relax in the cozy homeliness of Spock's quarters. His own were sparse and cold in comparison. Warm drapes and Vulcan artifacts, most of them probably priceless now, lined the walls and shelves. His elegant Vulcan string instrument was in the corner.

Spock's eyes were on him, large and dark, causing Jim's heart to hammer against the walls of his chest as if it wanted to escape to safety.

Jim leant in for a kiss. Their lips met in a cautious brush. Running his hands down Spock's frigid back Jim pulled him closer and kissed him hard. He wanted to melt away the tension with the warmth of his hands and lips. In turn Spock's arms encircled his own body, drawing him closer. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be held in those arms.

When he kissed his way from the prominent chin, along the strong jaw to the nape of the neck Spock promptly lifted him up off his feet and carried him to the sleeping area. He held on tight; he'd not expected this. Spock had never done anything of the like before. It should probably have been a huge turn-on; it was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? For Spock to show him how much he desired him. But instead his heart was heavy with the knowledge that this was all just due to the Vulcan's hormones going crazy. He could be anyone right now-all Spock wanted was his body.

The bed beneath his back was soft as he lay back on it while Spock made quick work of getting them both undressed. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking. Thinking wasn't good right now. Next to him he felt the mattress move as Spock lay down, too.

"Jim?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Open your eyes."

With a quiet sigh he obeyed the request. Spock looked gorgeous with his lips wet and slightly parted. He was so exotic.

The alien carded his fingers through Jim's hair. Then he scooted up the bed and pulled back the cover, inviting him to join him under it. He was starting to chill, so he had no complaints and slipped under the covers quickly.

Spock pulled him close. "So that there are no misunderstandings, should anyone ever use a Klingon mindsifter on you and come across this moment: we are not cuddling."

Jim burst out laughing.

Jim's reunion with Patel in the transporter room of the Excaliburwas as frosty as he had predicted and he wished they were been on better terms. But he couldn't turn back time and be less of a jerk towards him during the negotiations with the Klingons.

The two of them walked towards the Excalibur'sconference room.

"Did you find out a lot about the pirates?" Patel asked, breaking the silence. "Headquarters haven't forwarded me your report yet."

"Haven't they? I'll send you a copy as soon as I'm back on my ship."

They reached the conference room, in which a dozen Vulcan scientists, some of the few remaining, were waiting. They were all diligently introduced to him. He'd thought Spock was closed off, but meeting these people was a real eye-opener. Now he could understand why people got the impression that Vulcans were little more than walking, talking computers. If he hadn't known Spock, hadn't seen the emotion on the faces of the Vulcan elders when they'd been beamed up from the crumbling surface of their planet, then he might've been fooled into believing they had no feelings.

"What threat do the pirates pose to a future colony on Saketh?" one of the scientists asked.

It was a question Jim had been dreading, as he really wanted them to have a good impression of the planet, but there was no point in hiding the truth.

"They are major a threat, but one we can deal with, I'm sure."

On cue, the red alert lights started flashing and sirens howled out. Patel reached over for the intercom. "Bridge, report!"

"Another ship just jumped out of warp right into the planet's atmosphere. We think it's the pirates, sir."

Kroth had impeccable timing, Jim thought bitterly. The two captains raced to the bridge, where a lieutenant turned around in her chair as soon as Patel exited the turbo-lift. "Sir, they've landed on the planet. I'd say they're out of firing range. Should we lower shields and beam up the landing parties?"

"Lieutenant Ro," Patel barked at someone else, "do our long range sensors pick up any other vessels?"

"No, sir," Ro answered, "but they dropped out of warp right in front of us; there's no telling if or when more ships might arrive."

"Engineering, lower shields and start beaming up the landing parties."

Jim left the bridge. "Hey, Captain Kir-."

The doors closed behind him and he was in the lift going back the way he'd come. He ran through the corridors, skidded into the transporter room and jumped up onto the transporter pads where a landing party had just materialized.

"Down to the planet?" the ensign at the transporter controls asked.

"Yes, down to the planet. Energize."

The mist enveloped him as his atoms were scattered into the cracks in space.

When he rematerialized he shook himself into shape. Already the last of the Excalibur'saway teams were being beamed up and were disappearing in front of his eyes.

"Kirk to Enterprise."

"Scotty here."

"I want a security team down here right now," he said.

"Ay, sir. We weren't expecting you to beam down. The commander is putting together a team."

"Keep an eye on the situation from up there. I want to know what the pirates are up to."

"I'll send ye down some maps of their locations as soon as I can, Capt'n."

"Can you pass me the co-ordinates where Spock and the security team will beam down to?"

"Sure," Scotty said. "Captain Patel has almost got his scientists back up and'll be sending security teams down shortly."

"As soon as Commander Spock's down here with his team, I want shields up again in case more of their friends decide to pay us a visit, Kirk out."

He looked around—he was on a hill, but he didn't recognize the location. With the help of the map that Scotty had sent him it didn't take him long to get his bearings, though. A landing party materialized only twenty meters away from him.

"Captain," Spock greeted him, "Mr. Scott informed me you had beamed down."

There was no accusation in the neutral tone of his voice and yet he could tell that it bothered Spock.

"You know I'm not one for the regulations, Spock," he said grinning.

"Indeed."

Jim pointed to his right. "It looks like the pirates headed straight for the mountain city."

"It will be hard for us to retake it. You have seen that it is highly defensible."

"But we've spent weeks mapping out that place. I remember seeing that there was a second entrance into the mountain on one of Sulu's maps."

Jim's communicator beeped and he accepted the call. "Patel to Kirk."

"Kirk here," he replied.

"I've sent a landing party down the planet. I'm transmitting the coordinates to you now."

Jim watched the coordinates appear on his communicator's display. He handed it over to Spock and looked over his shoulder as he plotted them on his tricorder's map.

"Your team's very close to us," Jim said, taking his device back from Spock. "There're only two entrances to the mountain city. I'm hoping they only know about the main one. We're heading for the second entrance now, so it's probably best if your men guard the main gate."

"Agreed. Oh and Captain Kirk, we can't get a lock on the pirates inside the mountain, so I expect that once you're underground we won't be able to get you out. Good luck!"

"Thanks, Kirk out."