A/N: Ugh sorry this has been reposted like three times, I am having issues with the new website design. At long last, here is chapter 15! And wow, long chapter is LOONG, but I didn't think you readers would mind too much. :) As always, thank you so much for your support, your reviews, and your eternal patience! I had a lot of trouble with this chapter because Spock is just hard to write...and slightly drugged/traumatized Spock is even more difficult. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. There's only one more to go now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trek. Sad face.

Seventh Circle

Chapter 15

The Captain's ready room, Spock noted, felt decidedly empty without Kirk's dynamic presence. He brushed the odd thought from his mind and looked back across the table at Lt. Cmdr. Scott and Lt. Uhura. Scott wore a quizzical expression, while the corners of Nyota's eyes crinkled slightly with concern. The Vulcan self-consciously reached up and rubbed the swarm of greenish hypo marks on his neck with his uninjured hand.

Dr. M'Benga had told him that he had never seen any Vulcan survive a higher concentration of psychoactive drugs than was currently churning through his body. Some quirk of his half-human physiology had preserved his sanity by allowing him to react to the drugs in ways that were impossible for a full-blooded Vulcan. M'Benga had explained there was little that could be done about the drugs. Spock would just have to cope with their unnerving psychological effects until his body could metabolize them away.

They had been at the table in the Captain's ready room for just over an hour. He had already related what had happened on Janusia to the best of his ability, beginning with the fateful dinner and finishing with their arrival in the transporter room. Spock tried to stick to the events as much as possible, attempting to avoid painful memories that might trigger another dangerous emotional outburst. Lt. Uhura diligently took notes as he spoke, even though the conversation was recorded. The only reason she had come to his debriefing was to offer her support. He was grateful.

The half-Vulcan blinked back to the present. The two humans were still looking at him expectantly. He must have missed another question during his strange reflections. The drugs were making him disconcertingly vulnerable to distraction.

"I apologize, could you repeat the question, Captain Scott?" he asked.

Spock felt an irrational dislike of tacking "captain" in front of Scott's name. A long-buried, superstitious human corner of his mind nagged that it was somehow unlucky to do so with Captain Kirk seriously injured down in Sickbay. Scott himself did not appear completely at ease with his temporary promotion either, because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and glanced at Lt. Uhura. The half-Vulcan frowned slightly. This did not seem correct. Perhaps it was the deviation from his own usual behavior that was disturbing the engineer- Spock forced the unbidden thoughts from his mind and tried to focus on Scott.

"I think we've just aboot got the facts straight, Mr. Spock," Scott said, "All but one thing. Why woul' the Janusians do sech a thing?"

Spock stared. How could he possibly explain the hours of torment he spent trying to divine the logic behind their capture? He gave himself a mental shake and fell back on simple fact. "We were never told the purpose of our incarceration, nor interrogated," he replied. "We learned there was some sort of interest in the Captain. I have reason to believe the Captain figured it out," he observed. "Something he said when he was planning our escape."

Scott and Uhura exchanged significant looks. Spock's eyes narrowed slightly, but he was not given the chance to inquire. Scott cut him off with the usual noises about resting and so on as he firmly ushered Spock out of the ready room. Activity on the bridge stopped as everyone turned to look at him. Spock glanced around, feeling a strange longing for the familiarity of his post at the science station. He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the viewscreens and almost started.

No wonder everyone was staring at him. The Vulcan stoicism to which he was accustomed to seeing on his features was gone, replaced by a strangely hunted expression on an unfamiliar pale, hollow face marred by a large green bruise along the jaw line. Lt. Cmdr. Scott spared him further scrutiny by the bridge crew by leaping into the captain's chair and immediately quizzing various stations about the Enterprise's status. Spock fled into the turbolift as soon as it arrived.

He stared at the blank insides of the turbolift doors with relief, allowing the lack of any stimuli to soothe his fatigued psyche. He was seeing the world through a lens of emotion that he had not experienced since childhood. He had forgotten how draining it was. Logically, he knew it was the drugs. Spock's eyes half closed. It had to be the drugs. He breathed deeply, grasping for a modicum of Vulcan serenity. He would be confined to Sickbay (if not the brig) if he had another outburst.

The turbolift chimed impatiently, a mechanical reminder for him to select a deck. Spock initially moved to select his quarters, but hesitated. Nyota would be on duty for several more hours. His rooms would thus be empty, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Spock did not find the idea of hours of reflection appealing. His left eyebrow crept upward with the thought. Mere hours ago he would have given anything to be alone, and now he wanted to be anything but. How typically human.

With his quarters ruled out until much later, his options were few for the present. He had been expressly forbidden from his station on the bridge. The half-Vulcan frowned slightly. His orders had said nothing about the labs, and he had heard Dr. McCoy was having trouble diagnosing Ensign Chekov's strange ailment. Spock reached out and selected the appropriate deck. Perhaps he could be of assistance in Sickbay.

A freshly shaven Dr. McCoy glanced up from his PADD when Spock entered his office in Sickbay the next morning. He looked better, though still retained the peculiar hollow look around his eyes that the survivors all sported, a mark of the weight loss they had experienced on Janusia.

"You're supposed to be in your quarters, resting," the doctor accused, frowning his disapproval at the first officer.

"I merely wished to inquire about Ensign Chekov's status this morning," Spock stated before the doctor could continue his rebuke.

"Well, he's not any worse. That's about all I expected at this point," McCoy replied. "The antidote y'all cooked up seems to be working. I still can't believe its poison, though. I thought only a hemorrhagic fever would go after the circulatory system like that…" He trailed off into a pointed glare at the first officer. "Don't change the subject. If I catch you on the bridge again at all in the next three days, I will sedate your Vulcan ass into next week."

"Mr. Scott required my presence for debriefing. I am aware I have not yet been approved for duty, Doctor."

"Yeah, that's never stopped you before," he growled. "I mean it this time, Spock. You need to get some rest."

Spock raised an eyebrow. He thought it a bit rich to be admonished to rest by the doctor who had worked himself to near collapse and had only retreated to his office sofa after Nurse Chapel threatened to drug his coffee. He was formulating an appropriately dry retort when Acting Captain Scott burst into Sickbay. The engineer looked harassed. "I need t' speak wi' th' Captain!"

McCoy jumped up to intercept him with a warlike scowl on his face. "No, Scotty. It's out of the question."

"Do ye really think I'd be askin' if it werenae damned important, McCoy?" Scott said heatedly.

"No, I don't, but the answer is still the same. I'm not risking Jim's health for some desk jockey-"

"Desk jockey?" Scott spluttered, his brogue thickening with his frustration. "Doctor, I joost had to tell two admirals t' go to hell! Under threat o' court-martial, I might add! It's been thirty-six hours; I must have summat t' give Starfleet-"

"He nearly died, Scotty!" McCoy spat, his voice rising. "Don't any of you get it?"

"Blast it, McCoy! You an' the Vulcan both tol' me tha' Jim's the only one who has any inklin' what actually happened down there an' there's naught I can do til I know maeself!"

In the nearby ward, Spock saw Kirk's eyes flicker open. He glanced from the animated pair to the Vulcan, questioning. Spock had no answers for him. It was the first he had heard of any issues with Starfleet. He felt a prickle of annoyance at his lack of inclusion in the problem. Scott was still spluttering indignantly when McCoy noticed that they had awoken Kirk and his scowl deepened.

"Now look what you did," he growled at Scott. He grabbed the engineer firmly by the arm and dragged him fully into his office, out of Jim's earshot. Spock followed discreetly, feeling Kirk's frustrated gaze on his back. "A few more days rest and I'll consider-"

"A few days—For god's sake, man, he shot their queen!" Scott hissed.

"What?"

"The Janusians are raisin' hell with the Federation because our captain appairently shot and wounded their queen," the engineer explained exasperatedly.

Spock cleared his throat. "While his methods are often unorthodox, I do not believe the Captain would have done so without exceedingly good cause," he observed.

"I'd wager getting stabbed was exceedingly good cause," grumbled McCoy.

"I dinna ken what Kirk did or didna do!" Scott cried. "But Command wants us to go back and sort i' out."

"Christ," McCoy swore. Spock watched the blood drain from the doctor's face. A tight, cold sensation began to knot in the pit of the Vulcan's own stomach. "Are they insane? We can't go back!"

"Hells, McCoy, d'you think I want to?" Scott snapped. "I've been puttin' them off as best I can, but it's nearly two days now and I've run out of excuses short o' breachin' the warp core. Pike and Archer've took up fer us but they cannae do much...someone is leaning on Command very hard t' settle this."

McCoy squeezed the bridge of his nose, clearly torn but unwilling to compromise what he felt was best for his patient. "Scotty…"

Spock left them to their ensuing argument. Someone high in the Federation government had to be severely pressuring Starfleet for Command to even consider sending the Enterprise back into the now-hostile Janusian environment. He forced himself to quash the icy fear knotting in his stomach. They would not go back to Janusia.

He made his way softly towards Kirk's biobed. There was another method of obtaining Kirk's testimony for Starfleet, but it was sure to be met with resistance by the stubborn CMO. He glanced over his shoulder to ascertain that McCoy was not looking in his direction. The doctor remained safely wrapped up in his argument with Mr. Scott.

"Captain," he acknowledged Kirk in a low voice.

Kirk looked questioningly at the first officer, his blue eyes wreathed in purple circles of exhaustion. His gaze flickered to McCoy and Scott, who were just out of range of his human ears. Even that small movement seemed to tire the wounded captain. Spock's left eyebrow crept upward. Perhaps Kirk really was in no condition to speak to anyone.

"The Janusians have protested to the Federation. Starfleet Command wishes us to resolve the situation," Spock explained succinctly, "They wish us to return to Janusia."

Kirk stiffened and the little color that had begun to creep into his sunken cheeks drained away. His throat worked convulsively and he tried to push himself up with one hand. Spock put a hand on his shoulder and glanced warily towards the doctor. Kirk followed his gaze and sank weakly back onto his pillow.

"Starfleet does not understand what occurred on the surface, Jim," He added. "There was no time to explain then, but I must know what you discovered."

The captain studied him for a moment, then signaled ascent with a tiny nod. He tensed slightly as the half-Vulcan's fingers brushed across his face to find the psi points. Spock could hear McCoy's outraged yell as his consciousness merged with Kirk's, but it was too late for the doctor to interfere.

Almost before the meld had begun, his fingers twitched and the link vanished.

Intellectually, Spock knew that emotional transference was a side effect of the meld, but that knowledge was not enough to prepare his mind for the torrent of emotion that slammed into him like a physical blow. The half-Vulcan's knees buckled and he found himself clinging to the biobed for support. Spock could still feel bits of Kirk rattling around in his mind and his own thoughts had become nearly indistinguishable from the captain's. His teeth gritted together in a gesture that was both reassuringly familiar and disconcertingly alien. He should have never attempted the meld while in his compromised mental state.

Kirk's pained reasoning and his own observations instantly wove themselves into a single coherent narrative. He felt his stomach lurch.

They had all been used.

Lilith's plot was so simple, so horrifically obvious (like many logic puzzles, a Vulcan corner of his mind observed), that Spock was amazed he had not seen it before. He could feel the human part of his mind rebelling violently against her utterly repellant strategy, even while the Vulcan part analyzed it for its efficacy. How could he have possibly seen what she was up to; he could barely fathom such a twisted plot. He blinked and realized that he had tears in his eyes.

"Spock!" McCoy's furious voice finally sliced into his thoughts, "you goddamn fool hobgoblin, what did you do to Jim?"

Spock ignored him. He staggered to his feet and tried to rein in his reeling psyche. He sensed the doctor was particularly upset because Kirk was unconscious again, but there was nothing he could do about that. He had a much more pressing problem in the form of Starfleet Command.

"You did some sort of weird Vulcan mind mumbo-jumbo didn't you?"

"The mind meld hardly qualifies as mumbo-jumbo, Doctor," Spock retorted. The half-Vulcan pushed past the doctor and the very puzzled engineer, heading for the computer terminal in McCoy's office. The doctor swore again and seized his arm.

"Commander-" Scott started, his eyes darting anxiously between the furious doctor and the half-Vulcan.

"Spock, you tell me what the hell is going on right this second, or so help me-"

"Shut up, Bones," Spock snapped, removing the offending hand with a violent shake of his arm. Scott and McCoy stared at him, astonished. McCoy's other hand shot towards the hypospray near Kirk's bed, while Scott's face creased with concern. They both knew how he had mangled his hand on Janusia, and McCoy in particular now had a healthy fear of Spock's temper.

A few of Kirk's favorite curses flashed unbidden across his mind. Being sedated until next Tuesday was the last thing Spock needed right now. With a titanic effort, he pulled himself together. "Doctor," he corrected himself. He shook his head slightly and added: "I now know why we were imprisoned on Janusia."

McCoy lowered his hand slightly. Scott shot him a warning glance before he said: "Explain yourself, Mr. Spock."

"We were used. We were being tortured by the Janusian queen to emotionally compromise the Captain. She intended to kill us all and keep him prisoner to unknown end." The half-Vulcan ignored McCoy's astonished splutter and Scott's exclamation. "He resisted. She stabbed him, and he shot her to escape."

The ever-practical engineer recovered first. "Can ye prove this?" he asked Spock.

"I believe so."

"Then I'll expect ye on the bridge to make your report within th' hour, Mr. Spock. In th' mean time, I'll go an' see if we cannae coax a wee bit more out the warp drive. Th' farther we get from there, th' better!"

The engineer turned on his heel and left Sickbay. Spock continued into McCoy's office and leaned uninvited over the doctor's desk. His fingers flew over the terminal's buttons. "Computer, locate all Starfleet records for Janusia and the surrounding system for the past five years. Correlate with personnel listed as missing or killed in action for the same time period."

McCoy had followed him. "What're you doing?" the doctor asked.

"The Captain believes we were not the first to be tortured at her hands," Spock said. McCoy's shudder was audible. "This should be reflected in the casualty statistics for the system."

"I don't get it…I get the kid, Jim…hell, I even get you…but I was never tortured," McCoy mused.

Spock looked at him pointedly over the terminal. "Were you not?"

It was obvious to him now that he had seen Kirk's thoughts. Perhaps it was not so obvious to the overly-emotional doctor. The half-Vulcan's gaze drifted over McCoy's shoulder, towards a place in the ward. The doctor craned his neck around to see Chekov's biobed.

"What?" he spluttered, looking back at the half-Vulcan before his eyes darted back to Chekov's unconscious form. "The kid? What about the kid?" Realization gradually dawned on his hollow face. His fingers clamped onto the edge of the desk until the knuckles went white. "No way...nobody could be…that's totally sick…Oh God."

The computer finally chirped, drawing Spock's attention away from the shell-shocked doctor and back to the screen. He frowned slightly at the display. While the total casualty numbers were similar, the number of personnel listed as missing, rather than killed, in action for the Janusia system was a standard deviation above the mean for systems of similar planetary composition and cultural advancement. He would need to research further, but to first approximation it appeared the Captain's information was sound.

"Spock," the doctor said in a choked voice, dragging the half-Vulcan out of his numerical reverie. Spock looked up. McCoy had gone so pale that the first officer was almost afraid he would faint. "Why didn't Jim say anything about this to us?"

Spock straightened up from his awkward crouch in front of the terminal. "In the end there was little time," he said, avoiding the doctor's gaze. His own stomach twisted horribly as he replayed Kirk's memories. "He had suspicions before, but at that time he…he thought we both had rather enough on our minds."

McCoy sank into a nearby chair. Spock left him there with his head in his hands, while he went to continue his research and contact Starfleet Command.

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