A/N - Hello! If you're still reading, I do realise the amount of time it's taking me to get this finished is kind of getting beyond a joke now. But I have excellent news... here's the next part, and the part after this is also almost complete! A few chapters left until the end! A brief warning for this one, there is mention of non-con at the end of the chapter, there is nothing graphic but it is hinted at strongly. Also a bit of gore if you get squicked out by blood then also watch out for that last little bit too. Oh, and if you leave me a review I'll be over the moon!
Chapter Thirty-Four
September became October and the weather started to turn.
Spock retrieved his warmer coat from the spare closet in Leo's empty bedroom, replacing his light summer jacket in its place. He caught his reflection in the mirror and paused for a moment.
His hair was becoming more noticeably grey now. He wondered if losing Jim had done that to him. Before Jim had died Spock felt as though he was barely aging a day, much as Jim seemed to also be escaping the visible signs of growing older so was he. Now he lay awake at night in the bed that felt much too vast for just one man and wondered how different things would be if Jim were still there beside him.
Would they have gone back out? Would any of their children be serving aboard the ship with them?
For a moment Spock closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the feeling of Jim's strong arms around him, feeling safe and home.
Knowing he would never feel that way again brought a familiar pain to his chest and the corner of his mind where the severed remains of their bond lay. He should have gone to New Vulcan to see a healer; he should have done it urgently. Now the bond would likely cause him pain until the day of his own death, which, if he was to experience Pon Farr again, would be in only four short years. He could not bond to another; he could not meditate through the fever with his mental strength in tatters with the loss of his bondmate.
As so many of his people had done after the destruction of Vulcan, Spock believed himself doomed to die, to burn from the inside out as the Plak Tow cast him into insanity and eventual death.
He didn't allow himself to dwell on this thought often; and quickly pushed it out of his head, taking the coat he had retrieved back into his own bedroom.
Setting the coat on the bed, he crossed the room to the closet and parted the clothes hanging there, among them still was a single uniform of Jim's that he could not bring himself to part with. It was one he had worn following the birth of the twins, one size larger than his usual, but Spock felt it held strong sentimental value. He had always respected Jim's body and remarkable strength to have gone through the strains of bearing children. Jim had often complained that he never quite looked the same again, unable to shed the very last trace of softness that covered his otherwise solid muscular physique. No matter how slim he became, it would just never go away.
Spock should have told him he was beautiful more often.
With trembling hands he opened the safe using two very familiar dates. The stardate of Seren's birth, then the stardate of the twins birth. The small panel opened and he reached inside, fingers closing around the item he knew would bring him one tiny amount of comfort.
Jim's wedding band.
The departure prior to his death had been a fluke. He had been wearing his academy class ring, but not this one. Normally he wore both of the rings, or neither, but he never wore just one. Spock didn't know why his husband had removed it, but he was grateful that he had.
He held it up, eyes taking in the well-worn piece of gold. It was scratched, dented and even slightly bent so it was no longer a perfect circle. To Spock it was his greatest source of comfort. He brought the band to his lips, the cold metal just barely brushing against them before he lowered it and placed it back in the safe. He pulled on his coat and composed himself before slowly making his way downstairs and pulling on his boots.
It was a reasonably short drive to the cemetery, only around twenty minutes from the houses location in the suburbs.
When he arrived he had to sit in the car for a moment. He could feel Christopher in his mind today, reaching out to him. Spock closed his eyes and reached out in return, sending what he hoped was warmth and comfort to his son.
David had been away just over two weeks, so far Chris seemed to have been holding up well, especially since he knew the younger man hadn't yet been in contact, but if the feelings Spock was getting from him were anything to go by, that may have been about to change.
In silence Spock got out of the car and walked through the rows of gravestones and tributes until he reached the very familiar spot.
James T. Kirk
To the stars and back again
He had read those words so many times they had almost lost all meaning. He longed for the cold grey stone in front of him to crumble, to disappear and in its place be the man he'd never truly appreciated enough.
"I love you Jim, and I miss you. As ever I regret I was not more open with my feelings when I had the opportunity," he said softly, his voice carrying uncomfortably in the still air.
He stood in silence for long enough that he was starting to get very cold. Heavy breathing behind him startled him and he looked around.
Leo was approaching cautiously, wearing his academy issued sportswear.
"Been running… I ended up here and saw your car," he explained, still out of breath.
"I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to say hi," he added quickly, not specifying who he was saying hi to.
Spock inclined his head.
"I do not mind at all."
"Do you come here often?" Leo asked after a few minutes.
"I believe that statement is commonly used to initiate social contact with a potential mate," Spock responded dryly.
Leo chuckled nervously and Spock raised an eyebrow, half-smirking.
"I endeavour to visit at least one day a month," Spock answered and Leo nodded.
"I have never seen you here before," Spock added, inflecting his tone at the end of his sentence to sound almost like a question, but without him really asking.
"I don't come too much. I didn't come at all for two years. Em thinks it's good for me, and Soren says it's good for me too," he said and Spock looked back to the headstone.
"Do you think it is good for you?" Spock asked and Leo was quiet for a moment before answering.
"I think so. I feel closer to him after I've been here. It helps with… y'know, with the other stuff too," he said quietly and Spock said nothing, only inclined his head slightly in understanding.
"I am very proud of you, as I am certain Jim would be."
Leo was silent but Spock didn't miss the tears in his eyes. They didn't spill though, just glistened for a moment before he forced them away.
"Do you believe in souls Spock?" he asked and Spock looked at him, opening his mouth to answer when his communicator rang.
He removed it from his coat and looked at it before flipping it open.
"Christopher?"
Spock I don't feel so great. Can you come over?
He sounded like he was slurring. Spock felt rising dread, fearing his son had broken his long stretch of sobriety.
"In what sense? Are you unwell?" he asked, not wanting to ask directly if he had been abusing any substances.
I have this cough. I went to hand-to-hand this morning and when I got home I couldn't breathe right. I fell asleep and woke up and I've coughed blood all over.
Leo's eyes widened and Spock's feeling of dread increased.
"Where are you now? Do you require emergency help?" he asked, gesturing to Leo and beginning to stride back towards the car purposefully with a final glance back at Jim's memorial.
In his ear he could hear Chris coughing and spluttering.
M'at the apartment. Was trying to pack some stuff. I feel funny. I feel dizzy.
"Are you in a seated position?" Spock asked as he and Leo got into the car.
I'm… I'm laying down on the couch. My chest feels tight. I feel like I can't catch my breath properly.
"Try to sit up, it may ease the pressure. I will contact Doctor McCoy and I will collect you from-"
No. Please. Don't tell Bones. I don't want David to find out I got sick. Just take me to the ER, I'll see someone else.
Leo and Spock looked at each other for a moment before Leo spoke.
"Hey, it's me. Look, Bones is probably the best person for you to see, he knows your history better than anyone."
Chris was silent for a few seconds, the only sound an uncomfortable wheezing.
"Chris?" Leo asked cautiously. His twin began to cough again and Leo flinched.
"We will be at your apartment in approximately nine minutes. Are you able to keep talking until we arrive?" Spock asked. Leo could see rare concern on his usually stoic face.
Yeah… I can do that Chris answered weakly, spluttering again.
Leo reached across and muted the comm on the car panel.
"He sounds really sick. I saw him yesterday and he wasn't sick, just like a small cough that I barely even noticed," he explained and Spock nodded affirmative before re-activating the microphone.
"How long have you been experiencing symptoms?" he asked and Chris wheezed pathetically for a few seconds before he answered.
About – about three weeks. I didn't say anything because the house – and I didn't want to worry David.
"Damn it Chris, you're an idiot," Leo sighed.
"I concur with your brother," Spock added.
Chris gave a tiny chuckle followed by more coughing.
It took them only a few more minutes to race through town and reach Chris's apartment building. The elevator felt like it took ten times longer than usual until it finally allowed them to disembark on the correct floor.
Leo let them in using his key and they found Chris half sitting half-laying on the couch, white tee-shirt flecked with blood which was also around his mouth. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes.
"Hey," he greeted weakly.
"I think it would be wise to call an ambul-"
"Don't. David will see," he protested weakly, interrupting Spock.
"I agree. I think you need help right now. David would rather see you sick than get called back to go to your funeral, now stop being such a stubborn ass," Leo said firmly, pulling his communicator from his pocket and calling for paramedics.
Following the advice of the emergency medical operator, Leo instructed Spock to help Chris sit up higher, trying to keep his airways clear by not allowing him to lay down and for fluid to pool in his airways and cause an obstruction. Only a few seconds after being carefully sat upright by Spock Chris spluttered a large mouthful of dark green blood all down himself; his face growing paler still.
It took only five more minutes for two paramedics to arrive, by that point Chris was coughing up blood with almost every few breaths. Spock looked scared and had Chris's blood on his hands as he tried to help him remain sitting upright.
The young-looking female paramedic took the lead and asked Chris a few simple questions, turning to Leo when Chris couldn't speak to answer.
"Usually in good health?"
Chris nodded weakly.
"Any recent off-planet travel?"
He shook his head before pausing and closing his eyes, concentrating on trying to breathe.
"Any surgeries or hospital stays lately?" she asked and Leo shook his head.
"The last surgery he had was almost three years ago, and he hasn't been in hospital since-"
Chris cut him off by coughing, trying to speak.
"Hospital Tues-day-" he paused to gasp a breath "and Thur-Thursday. Kids ward," he spluttered out.
She used a tricorder to take various readings before conferring with her colleague.
"Based off this I think it's something like pneumonia that's gone unchecked and started to cause chaos, but I think we need to admit him and run tests. We need to find where he's bleeding from and get it stopped," he explained and Leo nodded in understanding.
Leo ask them please no big fuss. I don't want to make a scene. Please just drive me there in the car? I don't want anyone to see.
"Uh could… I uh… bring him right down to the ER? I'll get him into the car now and follow you guys there," he offered and the paramedic looked at him and back to Chris.
"I think he should really go with us," she said softly and Leo opened his mouth to answer back just as Chris spluttered again, more blood bubbling from his mouth.
I'm sorry Chris, I don't think you have a lot of choice. I'll comm. David for you so he hears it from one of us and not if any paps get a picture of you outside.
Chris didn't put up much of an argument as Spock half-carried him downstairs, his legs weakly trying to hold him up and failing.
Leo checked first, and the coast seemed to be clear outside. One paramedic came out and the other followed, Chris being supported by Spock close behind.
They made it almost to the car before a guy with a camera appeared from nowhere. Leo touched Chris on the shoulder before advancing on the man fiercely.
"What's wrong with your brother, Kirk? Had a few too many drinks again?" he sneered, another two photographers now appearing.
"Fuck off and die," Leo spat, lunging for the camera and missing as the man shifted unpredictably. A strange feeling of extreme aggression was rising, but he found he didn't want to control it.
One of the other photographers had a cup of coffee clutched in his hand and Leo snatched it, throwing it at the first guy. The hot liquid covered him, the polystyrene cup bouncing off his head as he howled in pain.
Leo glanced back; the paramedic car was speeding off now. They couldn't have got more than a couple of photos of Chris at the very worst. If he could just get their cameras…
"Hey Kirk, your brother try to kill himself again? Hm? Why was he covered in blood this time?" one of the others asked loudly, clearly not deterred by their coffee-soaked colleague.
Within seconds the man's camera was on the ground, stamped on, and it's owner hanging by his ankles in a vice-like grip.
"I swear. You come near me or my brother again and I swear-" Leo snarled, dropping the man and letting him crawl away.
"You swear what? You swear you'll go to jail for assault?" he smirked.
Leo glanced up.
Shit.
There was a police car across the street, two officers out of the car with phasers drawn.
He looked around at the scene he'd caused. Coffee-guy was moaning on the ground, camera soaked in coffee too, suicide-joke guy was also cowering on the floor, a lump forming on his head where Leo had accidentally on purpose slammed it into the floor when he turned him upside down, his camera was in pieces a few feet away. The third guy was nowhere to be seen.
"Don't move!"
"I'm not moving!" Leo protested. He considered running for a brief few seconds, but knew he'd only end up getting shot at and stunned, and would cause a bigger scene.
The two officers approached, one of them roughly seizing Leo's arm and forcing it behind his back, forcing him roughly down onto his knees.
"Hey, quit it!" he protested, wriggling.
"Citizen, you are resisting arrest."
"I'm resisting you trying to snap my damn arm off!" he argued.
"If you continue to resist arrest, necessary steps will be taken to ensure your co-operation."
"Necessary my ass," Leo growled as he was hauled back to his feet, his hands both pulled behind his back and fastened in cuffs.
Another set of paparazzo appeared in time to get some lovely images of him being bundled into the back of the police car. He just hoped they caught the moment he aimed a kick at the arresting officer.
*~*~*~*~*PAGE BREAK*~*~*~*~*
Spock had a tense wait at the hospital. He had not been allowed to accompany Christopher for any of his tests and had been confined to the waiting room. Leo had not arrived and he was curious of his whereabouts, until he saw the news rolling across the screen in the corner of the room. Footage of Leo being wrestled into the back of a police car, even going so far as to kick out at the officer as he was bundled in.
He felt an odd mixture of shock and twisted pride. Leo had attacked two photographers. Spock had no doubt Leo would not have initiated any confrontation with the photographers and wondered what comments they would have made to provoke such a reaction.
Sometimes Spock wished his children hadn't grown up into this life. For a while Chris had enjoyed the attention. Sometimes he would sit in his apartment with friends just after he had moved in and count the number of paparazzi they could see stalking him outside, waiting for him to emerge. After his injury he'd come to truly despise them.
Seren got her fair share of attention now, but it was mostly much more dignified. People with questions about her research. Nobody really knew what to make of Leo. He had been the most sheltered as a child, and had never sought attention, but he seemed to attract it, whether it was intentional or not.
As he neared the four-hour mark, a middle-aged female nurse with kind eyes approached him.
"Mr Spock?" she offered and he nodded. She did not attempt to pronounce any of his full name, which after so long on Earth he was accustomed to.
"Christopher has asked me to come fetch you. We're going to keep him overnight for observation, just because his fever hit one-twelve. It's on the way back down again now we have him on antibiotics," she assured as Spock raised an eyebrow. A fever of a hundred-and-twelve degrees was no laughing matter, and Chris must certainly be very unwell.
"What is the diagnosis?" he requested as she led him down the corridor.
"As they paramedics suspected, Pneumonia. It looks like he's been a little lazy with his immunosuppressant medication lately, and that combined with some of the children he's been interacting with… just meant it slipped past his guard," she explained and he nodded.
"Will he have to discontinue his voluntary work in the paediatric ward?" he asked and the lady shook her head, smiling fondly.
"Oh, no dear. He does a marvellous job up there keeping all their little spirits up. He'll just need to be more careful with his immune system as low as it is. You can't directly catch pneumonia, so he will have picked up just a simple cold that progressed."
"I am gratified to learn he can continue. He finds his volunteering very… fulfilling," he said and the nurse nodded.
Chris had been volunteering in various capacities at the hospital for almost two years. It had started at first to try and alleviate his fear of any medical environment. He started by reading bedtime stories to kids, after he'd passed the stringent background checks, and for a while moved on to the burns ward before deciding it was too close to home and was too painful a reminder every day, and switching back to paediatrics. He was deliberately evasive of David, or anyone else, seeing him around the children though, and this amused Spock.
Since his Pon Farr, Chris' paternal instincts had clearly kicked in. He was obviously fulfilling those needs by spending time with the children at the hospital.
They reached a room near the end of the corridor and the nurse beckoned him inside first.
Chris was sitting up, oxygen tube in his nose, IV in his arm and hair sweaty and matted to his forehead.
He gave a weak wave to Spock who approached him slowly, settling into a chair beside his bed.
"Wasn't sure if you were still here," Chris admitted weakly.
"I understand," replied Spock with a deep surge of shame for how he had acted previously when his children, particularly Chris, had needed him.
"They won't let me go home," he pouted and Spock raised an eyebrow.
"Your fever is still almost a hundred and ten degrees," he pointed out, glancing at the monitors.
"But they've already pumped about thirty gallons of antibiotics into me! I want to sleep in my own bed," he grumbled.
"Your body would not facilitate thirty gallons of fluid," Spock pointed out and Chris chucked feebly.
"No, but I have pissed most of it out. I have to go every five damn minutes. Where's Leo?"
Spock couldn't help but smirk very slightly.
"I believe he was arrested for assaulting two photographers. Based on the length of time that has elapsed, I would imagine he will be arriving here shortly," Spock said simply. Chris' jaw dropped.
"Assault? But he wouldn't ever hurt anybody! He doesn't have it in him," Chris reasoned.
"Perhaps he is feeling… not himself of late," Spock said vaguely.
"You think he's finally catching me up and he's going to get his Pon Farr?"
"I am uncertain."
They were both silent for a few minutes before Chris spoke again.
"Did anybody talk to David yet?" Chris asked.
"I have not. I did not want to alarm him by contacting him with vague information, I was waiting for your diagnosis," Spock explained.
"Ok good. I'm not going to tell him. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
Spock was silent for a moment before offering his advice.
"Though I do not claim that my own marriage was perfect, I do believe you should not keep secrets of this nature from one-another. If you discovered David had been unwell and had neglected to inform you, how would that make you feel?" he asked and Chris frowned.
"I'd be pissed off," he said bluntly and Spock inclined his head.
"There you have your answer."
"Fine. Do you have your communicator?" he requested, looking completely pathetic reaching his hand out from the bed, pale and sickly.
Spock extracted the device from his pocket and handed it over. He was about to offer to leave when Chris flipped the device open and began his call anyway.
After a wait he closed the device again.
"No answer. He's probably on shift."
"Have you had much contact since his departure?"
Chris rolled his eyes. "No. David didn't want us to talk every day and miss each other, so I haven't actually heard from him yet, other than a couple of written messages," he said glumly.
"I believe Jim also found it easier that way, when I was away for longer periods of time. He would request I did not comm but just write messages instead," Spock shared and Chris caught in his tone of voice that this hadn't been Spock's preference either.
"I guess I'm more like you then," Chris said, settling back a little more comfortably against his pillows and closing his eyes.
He was woken a short while later by the communicator chirping at his side. Spock was no longer sat beside his bed, but his jacket was still on the chair, so he couldn't have gone far.
There was no caller ID, so he flipped open the device.
"'Lo?"
There was a few seconds of silence.
"Chris?"
He smiled weakly.
"Yeah it's me. How are you doing?" he asked, trying to make himself sound a little stronger but frustrated at just how weakly his voice came out. He still felt like he couldn't draw a full lungful of breath.
"I'm fine. Why do you sound weird? And why are you calling from Spock's comm?"
He closed his eyes and hoped for the best with his honest answer.
"Uh… I'm in the hospital. I kinda uh... maybe have pneumonia and-"
"Oh my god. Are you alright?! Do you need me to come back?"
He chuckled weakly at the immediate protectiveness, fighting off the way it made him need to cough.
"I'm ok. They're taking good care of me, just keeping me overnight for monitoring and then they're letting me go rest up at home. I'm fine, really," he said as firmly as he could manage.
David was silent for a few seconds.
"Don't lie to me you asshole."
Chris' laugh turned into an aggressive coughing fit that had a nurse appear in the room doorway looking concerned. He got himself back under control and gave her his best winning smile and she backed away again.
"Ok, no more lies. The truth is I feel like complete shit, and I'd give anything for you to be here right now. But I'll get through it, and it isn't even that long until you're home," Chris admitted.
"No, it's not that long now. We're almost halfway through. I wish I was there to take care of you."
"Mm. Would be nice," Chris mumbled, sleepiness overcoming him again.
"You still with me?"
"I'm here," he said weakly, trying to force himself to stay awake.
"You sound exhausted, I should let you sleep. It must be the middle of the night there right?"
Chris realised uncomfortably he has no idea what the time was, but it was definitely dark outside.
"I think so," he answered finally.
"I should really let you go back to sleep, I'm so sorry that I woke you. Feel better soon ok? I love you."
"Don't go. Tell me about life on the ship?" Chris asked quickly. He felt lonely and increasingly uneasy at being by himself, and at Spock's strange absence.
"Life on the ship? It's pretty boring. I sit in the chair for Gamma shift, I sleep, I eat, I work out, I avoid my Commanding Officer, that's all there is to tell really."
"Why do you avoid her? She's pretty hot. Your type too," Chris smirked. He'd looked up who David was stationed with, and one member of the crew had certainly caught his eye.
"Not my type. You should know by now that I only want you."
Chris felt a surge of warm reassurance at those words.
"You sure? Even though I'm all scarred and get sick a lot and… have to go to AA?" he hated how vulnerable he felt. It wasn't at all like him to seek reassurance like this, but several weeks alone had left him feeling weak.
He heard David sigh.
"I only want you especially because of those things. You're scarred because you saved Molly's life, and you get sick because you were selfless enough and fearless enough to do that when a lot of other people wouldn't have. And you're strong; you're the strongest person I've ever known. The way you're facing up to your demons and dealing with it just shows it and makes me respect and love you even more."
Chris swallowed hard. He could hear another voice now, female, in the background.
"I should let you get back to whatever you're doing," he said shakily.
"I'm not doing anything that's more important than talking to you. My shift ended ten minutes ago and this is my personal time to use as I please." David's tone had shifted and Chris got the impression he was no longer the only person David was talking to.
"I'm kinda sleepy," he admitted.
"I mean I'm no doctor, but I hear sleeping is great for fixing that."
Chris chuckled weakly.
"You're a dick. I love you, goodnight," he mumbled.
"Sleep well, I'll talk to you soon ok? Goodnight."
There was a small click as the communication was cut and Chris stared at the communicator for a few seconds before the screen lit up again, informing him he had a new text message.
Sorry, my CO appeared and was eavesdropping. Please look after yourself until I can get home to take care of you properly. I love you more than you could ever know.
Chris felt immediately better at the typed words and slipped into a light sleep, only being disturbed when Spock re-appeared sometime later.
"I apologise, I did not intend to disturb you," he said quietly as Chris peeked one eye open to check who'd entered his room.
"S'ok," he mumbled, closing his eyes again.
"Where's Leo and Seren?" he asked, wondering why neither of his siblings had appeared in the now half a day and night he'd been in the hospital.
"Seren intends to visit you in the morning; she did not wish to disturb you resting. Leo is at home, he is experiencing the onset of his time," Spock said tensely.
"Is Emily with him?" Chris asked.
"She is. I must admit I am concerned for them both," he said in the same tight tone of voice.
"They'll get through it. Like maybe it won't be the nicest thing in the world but they'll figure it out between themselves. Do you think he's got it in him to bond them? I mean, I struggled with it… and he was always even worse than me with the telepathy."
"I believe Leo is more powerful than we may yet understand," Spock said thoughtfully.
Chris didn't answer, he just allowed himself to fall asleep.
*~*~*~*~*PAGE BREAK*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Before embarking on his training mission David knew only two things. The first, that he would likely assume the role of first officer. This had turned out to be true. The second, was that his commanding officer was a graduate whose first name was a closely guarded secret. Or, Lieutenant Hughes, as he was supposed to refer to them.
He'd been expecting a man, maybe a few years older than himself. Someone physically impressive with a dominating kind of character.
He had not been expecting a girl.
He should refer to Lieutenant Hughes as a woman, but he thought of her as a girl. She looked even younger than himself; maybe even as young as Molly Scott, but he couldn't be sure.
There was something about her though, that was for certain. She was strangely familiar.
She was shorter than him by a few inches, dark hair and eyes. Built like she spent even more time at the Academy gym than maybe he even did himself, and certainly very attractive.
She also took no shit from anyone.
"Here's the deal. We all want this milk run to go as smoothly as possible so we can get home and get a real assignment," she'd said, pacing before the small crew of ten in the engineering deck where she had assembled them all on the first day.
"My name is Hughes, or Lieutenant, or basically just any form of those two words. I will ignore you until you get my name right. Shift rotations are on the wall in the mess, if you don't like it or you have a problem with it, try and switch amongst each other before you come to me. We're all adults here, and I have no issue with you trading shifts so long as all posts are covered at all times. Also, McCoy, you'll be my first officer, and you might want to get medical to take a look at your neck. Everyone is dismissed," she'd sent them all on their way with a smirk, blush rising in David's face as he strode after her down the corridor leading from engineering towards the cargo bay.
"Lieutenant?" he offered and she turned, glancing back at him.
"Ensign?" she mocked his questioning tone.
"I uh… why did you feel it necessary to try and embarrass me in front of the crew? Especially if you're making me your first?" he asked, straight to the point.
"Wow. You are every bit as much of an asshole as I remember you," she said, stopping suddenly and turning to face him.
"What?" he asked bluntly, too tired to play games. He scanned his memories. She definitely didn't share any classes with him, and was probably a few classes ahead at the Academy to already be at the rank of Lieutenant.
She snorted, looking up and spotting a horizontal bar. She neatly leapt up and clutched it tightly, doing five pull-ups in quick succession before dropping and stepping forwards, right into David's personal space.
"Are you telling me you don't remember me? Really?" she questioned in a low voice.
"Did we… do pull-ups together one time?" he offered weakly and she frowned.
"Who did this? She's got one hell of a bite on her that's for sure," she asked, grabbing his chin and tilting his head so she could see the marks he knew Chris had left him with the night before the shuttle.
"That's not your concern," he said, stepping back and putting an appropriate amount of space between them.
"I'm truly offended you don't remember me. I guess I'll put you on Gamma shift until your memory comes back," she shrugged, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away, leaving David infinitely confused.
Aside from sending Chris a brief message to let him know he was alive and had pulled the worst shift rotation, David had no communication with home. He wanted to ensure he didn't make himself more homesick than necessary and found time was passing quicker when he forced himself not to think of home.
Since their strange conversation in the corridor near engineering, he'd had no further one-on-one interaction with Hughes, and stayed away from her as best he could. They worked opposite shifts, sitting in the chair and watching absolutely nothing happen outside of the viewing port.
He'd made friends with a few of his fellow crew-mates pretty quickly, and had arranged to meet four of them to play cards and have a few drinks as this was his one day off and they all worked Beta-shift, allowing their evening to be free.
Cards had quickly escalated, and he was now sitting in a circle with his new friends, playing a game he'd always found hilarious if somewhat immature.
"Truth or dare? You have to pick!" he was ordered as the spinning bottle stopped pointing right at him.
"Truth," he answered quickly and the two girls sniggered and whispered behind their hands before asking their question.
"What is the kinkiest thing you've ever done?
He snorted and shook his head, laughter breaking out among the group as he prepared his answer
"I uh… I fucked someone against a window overlooking the city, because they were turned on at the thought somebody might see," he finally answered and the group cheered loudly. He tried to hide his flush as he thought about the true answer to that question. He'd been the one turned on by it, and he'd also been the one to be fucked against the window, but they didn't need to know specifics… or that the situation had been with another man. The women on the ship all seemed fond of him, aside from Hughes, and he was determined to flirt enough to keep the question of his sexuality off the table.
"Louisa, truth or dare?" one of the guys offered as the bottle was spun again.
"Truth," she giggled.
David zoned out until he heard the question.
"You have to sleep with one of the Kirk twins, which one?" was asked and the group grew rowdy again as she started to blush.
"Whichever one was the underwear model," she blushed.
"That was… the engineering one, right?" one of the guys asked.
"I don't know. One of them has long hair now, looks like a surfer, the other one looks too skinny though he's still pretty hot, but I can't tell which is which," Jennifer the communications Ensign offered.
"Skinny one is Christopher, surfer one is Leo. Chris was the underwear model," David answered for them.
"Oh uh… hmm… it's a tough choice. Can I pick both?" Louisa giggled and David did his best not to blush at listening to his partner be talked about in this way.
You're being sexually objectified by the women on my ship you know he tried to send through their bond, knowing it was unlikely to reach Chris. He'd had nothing coming through and assumed that as they had expected, they just couldn't pass information over such distances.
"Surely they must have so many threesomes, probably have women falling all over themselves," one of the engineering guys, Stevens, commented with barely concealed jealousy.
"Ew gross, that'd be weird with your own twin," Louisa pulled a face.
"I'm pretty sure they're both in relationships," someone pointed out and David made an affirmative sound.
"One of them is banging your sister, isn't that right dude?" Stevens asked and David did his best to bite his tongue.
"Yep," he answered shortly.
"So you must know them pretty well then? Weren't you all aboard the Enterprise together growing up?"
"I was too young to remember really, but yes, we were all there together. And yes, I know them both pretty well."
"Did you know Commodore Kirk too?" Stevens asked, clearly tact was not his strongest trait.
"I knew Jim," he answered bluntly. He could see the girls glance at each other.
"Is he really dead? There's all these rumours going around that he's a spy and he's-"
David stood up abruptly.
"He's not a spy. He's dead. Can we not talk about him?" he asked, drawing himself up to his full height. Stevens nodded and David turned and left, storming back to his quarters. He had another two hours before his shift so he quickly changed into his workout gear and headed to the gym.
He started with the punchbag, forgoing the gloves today and not stopping until his knuckles were torn and bleeding, hands throbbing and sweat rolling down his back.
He ditched his sweat-soaked shirt and hit the treadmill, almost maxing out the speed as he pushed himself to work out all of his rage. It was like he'd been dropped into an icy pool, all of his emotions he'd kept so carefully contained since he'd been on the ship all hitting him at once.
He missed Chris so badly it felt like his heart physically ached to be away from him.
"You hurt yourself and I'm not giving you the shift off," said a voice from behind him.
He hit the button to stop the treadmill, breath coming in harsh pants as he walked over to the weights corner and stacking the bar with about as much as he could manage and setting it on his back, squatting until his upper legs were parallel with the floor before pushing upwards, a pleasant burn immediately filling his legs as he pushed against the weight.
"So that's how you keep your butt so nice and round and perky? Squats?"
"Squats," he grunted back in affirmative.
"Maybe I should add a few more into my routine."
He didn't used to do squats, thinking of them as pointless. That was until he found out how much Chris loved grabbing at his butt in his regulation pants. The rounder it got, the more handsy Chris would get. It amused him to no end, and he did find some satisfaction in the amount he could lift.
He felt exposed under Hughes gaze. She was looking at him and not even trying to hide it. He wished he'd left his shirt on.
"So when did you get so big? I remember you as a skinny little thing. Well, not little, but skinny," she smirked and it finally hit him.
He ditched the bar, dropping it with a clang before turning around to face her.
"I slept with you," he said flatly.
"More than once," she shrugged, lopsided smirk on her face.
"And I never called you back, I'm guessing?" he offered and she nodded, folding her arms.
"I uh… I'm sorry. I had a habit of doing that," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck and looking at her sheepishly.
"Just tell me who she is," she said quietly.
"Who, who is?" he asked and she glared at him now.
"The girl that finally got you to stop being such an animal," she said and he pinched the bridge of his nose, tilting his head down for a second before looking back up to meet her eyes.
"I don't see how that's any of your conc-"
"I'm just interested. Must be pretty special if she's tamed you. You're about the worst I've ever known," she said and he thought hard, back over nights he hadn't thought about for years.
"Your hair was longer," he said as he finally remembered her. They'd met in a bar just off campus, right after he'd booked his second turn at his piloting exam. He saw her twice, failed his exam, and started sulking, meaning he was no longer picking up women every weekend.
"It was. And you were a couple inches shorter, didn't have stubble, or muscles like that, or that sad look about you like you've left half of your soul back on Earth."
If looks could kill, he'd certainly be dead by now.
"Listen. I've changed a lot in the last couple of years. Yes, I met somebody, and I'm committed to them, but I don't need to tell you who that is because that isn't your business. I'm sorry for the way I behaved. I'm sorry that I didn't call you back, and I'm sorry that I didn't respect you, truly, I am," he said sincerely.
She looked at him for a moment before nodding once.
"I'm sorry McCoy. I had no place to come in here and… I just… you made me so… I felt worthless," she explained quietly, and for the first time he saw the vulnerable side to his commanding officer.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I was a complete asshole my first two years at the Academy, I'm sorry you got caught up in it," he said and she nodded.
"It's all in the past," she said, effectively ending the conversation. She turned on her heel and began to walk away and David made a snap decision.
"Wait!"
She paused by the gymnasium door and glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
"They uh… aren't a she. They're a he. And we're engaged," he blurted out.
She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding slowly, a small smile breaking out onto her face.
"Don't let the girls find out, they all want a piece of you," she said before leaving the gym.
David finished up his workout before showering and changing for his shift. As he took the conn from Hughes she gave him that same smirk from the gym.
Twenty minutes into his shift his communicator alerted him to a new text message.
Is it Kirk?
He typed back quickly.
Yeah, it is actually.
It took her only seconds to respond.
Cute. So how long?
He answered her quickly again.
A couple of years now.
There was a few more seconds this time before she replied.
… I wasn't talking about your relationship, McCoy.
He snorted before shoving his communicator back into his pocket, feeling somewhat more at ease that he and Hughes would get along better now.
*~*~*~*~*PAGE BREAK*~*~*~*~*
Emily was working when she got the comm. from Spock. The one she'd known was coming for a few years now.
She made her excuses and left the rest of the band at the studio before getting across town to Leo's apartment as quickly as she could.
She let herself in and peeked around the door. Everything was half-packed, they were moving in a few days, but she noticed more things were in the living area. Spock was sitting neatly on the couch.
"I removed items from the bedroom, anything he might break, or anything that might cause injury," he explained.
"Know that this is not his fault," he said quietly and she nodded. The room temperature of the apartment was raised to an uncomfortable level, and she removed her sweatshirt.
"Good luck," said Spock, standing and crossing to the door, letting himself out.
Emily locked it behind him before walking towards the bedroom. She slowly opened the door, a rush of heat hitting her. The room temperature was even higher in there than in the living room.
"Leo?" she questioned.
He was lying on his side in their bed, wearing only his boxers and a white tee-shirt. She could see even from the doorway he was trembling and sweating.
"Shouldn't have come," he protested weakly as she approached him, picking up a glass of water Spock had no doubt set thoughtfully on the side and helping him drink from it.
"Of course I was going to come. We've known this was coming, I'm prepared for it, I'm ready for it," she said, her words not even convincing herself.
He exhaled heavily, his whole body shuddering.
"I'm sorry," he breathed as she carded her fingers through his hair.
"Don't be sorry."
It took only a few more minutes before Leo was unrecognisable, feral and desperate.
Less than twenty-four hours later, Emily was shaken awake from a shallow sleep.
"-Shit, you're bleeding. Emily? Can you hear me?" Leo was asking, he sounded panicked, horrified.
She nodded groggily, metallic taste of blood filling her mouth and a sharp pain in her left wrist. Her body ached and her mind was reeling with the fresh bond, Leo's memories and thoughts mingling with her own.
"M'fine," she protested, weakly pushing him off with her right hand before opening her eyes.
There was blood on her hands and on the pillow where her head was resting. Leo looked terrified.
"I was so scared I'd killed you," he breathed, pulling her close, careful to avoid her injured arm.
"Is it over already?" she asked weakly and he nodded.
"Yeah. It's over. Less than twenty-four hours must be some sort of record for most pathetic Pon Farr ever," he said, sounding only slightly less horrified.
"I think your wrist isn't doing so hot," he said, gently reaching out to her left arm and causing her to whimper in pain as he touched the swollen joint.
"And I bit you. That's where most of the blood is coming from. Let me go get a-" he trailed off, stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom and returning a few moments later with a warm wet cloth.
"I texted Seren to come and mend your wrist. She should be here soon," he said quietly as he cleaned the blood off her neck and chest. He'd bitten her deeply where her neck and shoulder met, and the wound throbbed more angrily the more alert and awake she became.
She whimpered in pain before she could stop herself and Leo looked at her, eyes filling with tears.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. She shook her head but broke down, sobs racking her body. He looked at her uncertainly, as if he wanted to hold her but felt he couldn't.
"Can I?" he offered, putting his arm around her.
She buried her face into his shoulder and sniffled as he awkwardly stroked her hair.
"Why can't I feel you in my head?" she asked and he as silent for a few moments, having become aware of his presence in her mind retreating to the point she could no longer feel him at all.
"Because I'm holding it all back right now. I didn't even ask to bond with you, as soon as our minds touched I just couldn't stop it and… I didn't want you to be overwhelmed when you woke up. I'm sorry, I never meant for any of this to-"
He was cut off by the door chime and their eyes met.
"Let her in, it's ok," Emily instructed. He dressed quickly and silently, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before leaving the room to unlock the front door. Emily felt very aware of her nakedness save for the bedsheet as Seren entered the room, Leo not with her.
"Where's-"
"Leo is waiting outside, he wanted you to have privacy. I'm here as a doctor, so anything you want to say to me right now is confidential," she explained, setting down a large medical bag and taking a few steps closer to the bed.
"He wants to hand himself in to the police. He feels he deserves punishment for his actions," Seren said bluntly and Emily shook her head.
"No! No that isn't… he didn't…" she stammered and Seren nodded sympathetically.
"I know. I know," she said, placing her one hand over Emily's uninjured wrist and touching her reassuringly.
"I need you to tell me, besides the injuries I can see are you in pain anywhere else?" Seren asked in a gentle tone of voice.
Emily's bottom lip quivered as she began to cry again.
"It's ok, you're ok," she comforted.
Within a few minutes Emily was laying back down, her one arm wrapped carefully inside an osteogenerator that was repairing her broken wrist. All other injuries were relatively minor and she refused any treatment for them.
Seren slipped out of the room as Emily fell asleep through sheer exhaustion and was immediately at her brother's side.
"She doesn't hate you," she said quietly.
"I hate myself though," he said bitterly, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"You shouldn't. This isn't something you can control. It's in our biology, it happens to every Vulcan or part-Vulcan. It happened to Chris, to Spock, and it will one day happen to me. You cannot hate yourself for something over which you have no control."
He looked haunted.
"Maybe we should find a way to control it. Somebody should find a way. There must be something we could do with medication or-"
"Leo, stop it," she interrupted him calmly.
"Emily doesn't hate you, or blame you. I'm going to leave now, her wrist will be all fixed within another hour and she needs to wear the support I've left with her for the next week. You need to rest too. Go and talk to her," she said firmly and he nodded, pulling himself together.
Seren left and he took a deep breath before approaching the bedroom, awkwardly loitering in the doorway rather than entering the room.
"I can feel you in my head again," said Emily quietly from the bed, obviously able to sense him standing so close.
"Yeah I uh… sorry. It's going to take us a little bit to figure out how to control this," he answered just as quietly. His presence within her mind retreated again.
"Can we take a bath?" she asked, peeking up at him over the blankets.
"In an hour once your arm is all done, definitely," he said, taking a few steps closer to the bed.
"Please don't feel bad. I knew this was coming, I knew this was something we were going to have to get through, and it isn't so bad… really I'm fine," she said, managing a weak smile that he didn't believe for one second.
He lay beside her, staying outside of the blankets and loosely draping an arm around her waist.
"I always figured we'd get married first. I was going to… ask you to bond on our wedding night. I always wanted to do it all in one day, if we stopped fighting long enough to get to that day," he said with a weak chuckle.
"You couldn't control-"
"No. You're right. But I never really wanted to bond as a necessity; I was hoping to do it on my terms. I was hoping maybe I'd make it a bit longer before my time came. And I still haven't found the guts to propose to you yet," he said with a small smile.
"I don't know what you're worried about," she smiled back, shifting a little closer.
"It's got to be perfect," he protested.
"I'm sure when you ask, it will be," she agreed quietly.
They slept a little while, just letting their bond settle. Leo woke up first and ran a warm bath and filled it with bubbles before waking Emily and helping her gently free her arm from the osteogenerator.
She flexed her wrist cautiously.
"Does it hurt?" he asked; guilt clear on his face.
"No it's just a bit stiff. Seren warned me it might be for a few days. It's fine," she added quickly.
"I'm-" he started but she cut him off by quickly covering his mouth with her hand.
"I don't want to hear any more apologies from you today, got it?"
Knowing when it was best to give up, he simply nodded and they retreated to the bath together.
*~*~*~*~*PAGE BREAK*~*~*~*~*~*
Life had both improved and got worse for Jim since he had been moved to live in Raato's quarters with him.
The Orion was barely ever there, which was great, and he now had access to a window, a bathroom, and a bed that was more than just a slightly softer patch of floor.
But he had to keep on his best behaviour, fearful of what could happen if he didn't. He wasn't the only captive living in the quarters with the Orion, and he knew only too well what would happen if behaviour wasn't what the Orion expected. Only a few days ago Raato had killed one of the other captives right before his eyes. He had returned from his shift on the bridge and dragged her aside. Jim hadn't seen what had happened next, but had heard it.
He'd had to rely on every bit of his Starfleet training to keep himself calm, and to keep the three other captives cowering with him in the bedroom they shared calm as they listened to the attack in the main part of the quarters.
He had then called them all out, made them look at the poor woman before him on the floor, battered and bleeding.
"This is what happens when you do not do as I ask," he had said slowly and clearly before removing the long blade he kept fixed to his belt.
"Whatever she didn't do, I'll do it, don't kill her!" Jim had put himself forwards.
Raato laughed in his face before gripping the woman's head by her hair and slashing her throat in one smooth movement. Jim had lunged for her and put both hands over the gaping wound in her neck, knowing it was too late but desperate to help her in any way he could.
He held her as she gasped one final breath and then lay still, her blood spreading steadily across the floor.
He'd dragged Jim into his bedroom then, the only room to which they were not granted access.
He never spoke to the other captives of what the price had been for his actions, but he didn't need to, they all looked at him with understanding on their faces. Each of them had been taken into that room at least once.
There were now only four of them living in the quarters, selected to service Raato's needs. The price for their small increase in comfort was high, but Jim did his best to use it to his advantage. When Raato was finished with him he would often lay in silence as the Orion gave orders through the comm system. He'd catch tiny bits of information about their location, planets they may go to, ships they had dealt with.
It seemed like Starfleet weren't looking for him, but more like Raato was looking for them.
One day he heard it, about a week after Raato had killed the female who had been captive with Jim, he heard something that gave him a tiny scrap of hope, as well as filling him with dread in equal measure.
"-and you are certain this is a Starfleet vessel?"
"Yes Raato, sir, we are quite certain. Our source suggests a vessel with a junior crew. They would offer little resistance."
"I want information on the ship, I want to know how useful it would be to us. How many crew?" he had demanded. Jim kept his eyes tightly closed, feigning sleep.
"The information we have suggests ten sir. They would be no match for us," the officer reported.
Shit Jim had thought that's a training mission. Some sort of milk run with a bunch of fresh graduates.
"Excellent. Set a course. We certainly have room for ten more, wouldn't you say Captain?" he demanded, wrenching Jim upright by his hair.
"I know you listen to me. I know you do not sleep when I am done with you. From now on you go immediately back into the room with the others, do you understand me?" he hissed in Jim's face.
Jim stared at him for a few seconds before nodding slightly in understanding.
"Make yourself useful," he spat, pushing Jim to his knees with one hand and reaching towards the fastening of his trousers with the other.
Jim retreated into his mind, forcing himself to think of the possibility that interacting with this Starfleet vessel could give him the chance for escape that he longed for so desperately.
