Fic: The Ties that Bind, Chapter 7/8, Kirk/Spock
Title: The Ties that Bind, Chapter 7/8
Pairings: Eventual Kirk/Spock (with some background Sulu/Chekov UST), but prior to that, bridge crew/OMCs
Rating: NC-17
Length: Near 8k
For: awarrington ♥
Warnings: Sickness, angst, cliffhangertastic
Summary: The Enterprise crew makes contact with a planet where an all-male society thinks they're sexual catnip, and decides to keep and marry them all against their will.
I wake from a nightmare about that time I got stuck under a a roofing joist in a derelict house back home, to find Sextus's arm slung across me, his mouth open somewhere above my head gusting my hair with his snores. It takes a few minutes to inch out from underneath him as I'm still too raw to deal with Sextus this early, having fallen asleep in his arms after pledging that I'll give myself to him today, and that I'll do it willingly, with all my heart.
The wriggling action it takes to get out of bed without waking him sends my belly into its now-familiar spasm, my mouth filling with rancid bile that I've got no choice but to spit out into the water pitcher now I'm bound to one room once more without Stoods' assistance. Pitcher or floor, either way it's coming out fast. I puke and puke till my stomach feels hollowed out, my gut concave and cramping beneath my ribs and my shoulder stinging with a pain that's not right, something not in its correct place. The puking triggers a coughing fit I can't stop and I'm bent over trying to hack up a lung when I first feel Sextus's fingers sliding up my naked back.
“Hussband, how may I best assist you?”
I hold up a finger until the coughing slows and stops, Sextus stroking attentive hands over my skin the whole time. “Okay, I'm good. Thanks.”
“You wissh for refresshment?”
He gets out of bed naked and moves to lift the pitcher, and I stop him with a hand on my arm, his eyes immediately darkening in the dimmed torchlight and gazing down at my fingers on him. “Sorry, the water's dirty. I'm okay.”
“You are certain?” His hand covers mine to hold my touch there. “You did not sound healthful, little one.”
“Yeah.” I'm recovered enough to pull my hand away to start my early morning beard scratch before tugging my shorts out of my ass where they've wedged themselves firmly overnight. It's early, I'm not sure of the time but I can tell we've not slept long, Sextus's eyes puffy and dry-looking as he scrubs at them with his knuckles like a little kid. “I need to talk to you but now's not the time. Let's wake up first. My shoulder's killing me and I could do with a soak in the tub to ease it out.”
“'Tub'?”
“My bathing pool.”
“Ah. Yes, of coursse, my sweet.”
He brushes the wall with his fingertips to lighten the room, opens the door and calls for Stoods, who I'm never quite sure finds the time to sleep or spend time with that husband of his as he's here already, carrying a tray overflowing with fruit into the room for us.
“Prime Sen, Jamess of Sextus, I am here to serve.”
Sextus lies down on his stomach across the bed to start picking off silvery grapes to pop into his mouth one by one, his ass enormous and muscular, gleaming like two wet melons in the increased light. But I barely notice it, Stoods' choice of phrasing instantly gaining my attention. I am here to serve. I don't think he's ever put it like that, not on a single morning that I can recall. But I stare at him, waiting for some sign, a wink or significant glance to tell me it's some kind of message. Instead he picks up the water pitcher to fill and looks into it with a disgusted curl of his upper lip.
“My hussband wisshes to bathe, so attend to his needs.”
“Pake of Snazd is to esscort Jamess of Sextus to his bathing chamber thiss morning, Prime Sen.”
“Pake's a misery. You take me.”
“I have other duties, Jamess of Sextus.”
“Then Pake of Snazd may attend to them.” Sextus chews on another grape before tossing one across the room, hitting Stoods an inch above his nipple. Someone's in a playful mood this morning. “My hussband has made his wisshes clear.”
“Of coursse, Prime Sen.” Stoods takes a slow, measured breath then turns to me, his expression neutral. “Pleasse, follow with me.”
I keep up with his long stride for a few minutes before I have to stop, bending over with my right hand on my knee as I catch my breath and allow my gut to settle, my left arm tightly held into my body.
“You are in pain, Jamess of Sextus?”
“Y'know, any time you want to quit calling me that is fine by me. Was the bathroom always this far?”
“Its disstance is unchanged, as is your title.”
It's prickly, a hint of pissiness to it that I can't ignore. “Is there a problem, Stoods?”
“Not of my awareness. You are well enough to continue?”
“Yeah, think so.” I try to stretch some of the aches out of my lower back, feeling the rising sick fever slicing my head in two again. “But take it slow. You may not have noticed but I got hit by a Sextus-shaped dump truck yesterday.”
He turns from me and starts off down the pathway again, no hint of the slow-germinating friendship between us that I thought we'd started to develop. I do my best to keep up but we have to stop two more times as I start to get worried I'm going to mess my shorts. By the time the familiar curve to the bathroom's doorway comes into sight, I'm clenching my asshole hard and sweating so freely it's soaking my skin.
“Quick, the door, and you might want to make yourself scarce because it's not going to be pretty.”
“I am here to attend to you.”
“No, I mean it. There're some jobs nobody should have to deal with.”
“Pinsnah, the lord of my heart, would be dissappointed in me if I did not assist you to the besst of my ability.”
He says it kindly as he helps me through the door, my legs weaker than ever like I've been running a long race, my stomach cramping hotly the closer I get to the crapper. I fumble with my shorts, finding it tough to get them down with one hand, but Stoods brushes it away and slides them down himself, even going so far as to help me sit. Then my gut empties explosively as I double up in pain, groaning and unable to disguise how much it hurts, my cheeks warm with humiliation, my voice shaky when I finally get the strength to speak.
“Thanks. Don't think I could've made it by myself, which would've been messy.”
“Then I have saved mysself an undessirable chore, wouldn't you say?” His fingers are gentle as he brushes sweat-damp hair out of my eyes and I look up, remembering how just a simple touch of my skin sent him to the edges of control when we first met. But now there's none of that raging Pingian libido there, just a sweet sympathetic smile as he cups my chin and begins to dab my brow with a wet cloth. “Why have you not informed me of your sickness?”
I grunt and start to shiver as another hard cramp sends a barrage of hot liquid splashing into the john. I haven't passed anything solid for two weeks and I hate this, hate my weakness and his gentle touch as he starts to nursemaid me.
“Because there's nothing you can do about it. Your planet is poisonous to me, all of it, the entire environment. I don't think I've got more than a few days left, if that.”
I don't know what I'm expecting, a comment of surprise or concern, or maybe that he'd throw himself at my ankles and swear to get me out of here, no matter what it takes. I didn't expect this, him simply continuing to calmly sponge me down.
“You musst see the Sen's healer once more.”
“There's no point doing anything but accepting the inevitable, but thanks.”
He rinses out the cloth in the shallow basin beside him before wringing it out over my head, allowing the cool water to trickle down my face, neck and back. “I had grown to expect more of you.”
“Well, I'm sorry to let you down once more but, there you go, I'm fallible.”
Stoods stands back from me at that while I carefully wipe my ass, wincing because my butthole feels like it's on fire, then he looks down at me with his head tilted to one side in a posture so similar to Spock that it feels like my heart breaks all over again. “You are a strong, willful man, ruled by your heart in the same manner that I am mysself. You are proud, and have ressource beyond meassure, and you will see the healer once again, my friend. It is of utmosst importance that you do, and that is all I am able to speak on the matter.”
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
“I do not involve mysself in matters of politics.”
“Stoods, what are you trying to tell me? I knew it, you do know something.”
His face is carefully blank. “Do you require my assisstance to the pool, or wissh for me to remain so that you are not beset with pains and put yoursself in danger of drowning?”
“Yes, I require you to stay. Talk to me.” I manage to stand, grasping at his arm, my shorts around my ankles but I'm beyond caring. “Tell me what you know. Tell me, dammit, my life might depend on it.”
I seem to have appealed to his sense of right, his massive shoulders lifting and falling on a heavy sigh. “Every word I may speak on it puts me, and therefore my hussband, in danger. But the attendants speak amongsst themsselves and there has been talk.”
“Of what? I swear to you that I'll keep you out of this.”
“You do not possess the power necessary to achieve that aim.”
“I need to know.”
“I musst attend to my other duties, and will return to esscort you to your living quarters shortly.”
“Stoods, fuck, please.” But he ignores me, walking stiffly around the flickering pool towards the door. “Stoods, come on, I'm begging you for your help. What have you heard?”
He doesn't turn to face me, his voice a low hiss as he whispers one word, 'Revolution', before activating the door and disappearing down the corridor.
-
He's weeping silently, his shoulders shaking as he turns from me and covers his face with both hands. Bones' husband has been a discreet, almost shy presence in my life these past few weeks, barely exchanging more than a few niceties before starting to ask for a list of symptoms, and now he's sobbing his heart out a foot away from me on the bed.
“Pishn? What's the matter? Was it something I said?”
“No, no, Jamess of Sextus.” He sniffs, blowing his nose into a cloth that he stuffs back into his medical kit as he continues to hiccup with suppressed cries. “Jusst to look at your face . . .”
He crumbles again and I haven't got a clue about what the hell I can do to help him out. “My face? My face is making you cry? I'm not that ugly.”
“No, you are almost perfection itself. Like him, my beautiful hussband, who you have taken from me.”
He scrambles for the cloth again to weep into while I try to get my head around the concept of anyone thinking Bones is beautiful. Hot in a squinty sort of way once he's got a full head of steam going, I'm the first to admit it, but beautiful? “I'm sorry. You must hate me, I'm aware of that.”
“No!” Pishn sniffles into his cloth then turns to face me, twin tear tracks marking dark paths on his shining face, his eyelashes spiked around eyes a brighter purple than most. “No, Jamess of Sextus, you saved him and, for that, I owe you my life. I above all am aware of your sacrifice for thosse we so love and I cannot repay your bravery, but pleasse know that I am faithful to your causse.”
“My cause?” I didn't know I had one of them. “You must miss him. I know I do.”
“My heart witherss without the light of his pressence, but I would rather Leonard livess on elssewhere than dies cradled within my adoring arms. Although, without his greatesst friend, as I believe you are, his days would be all the poorer.”
“True.”
He nods in agreement while wiping his nose. Seriously, these people never get my jokes.
“Which is why I feel the ability to state that I am certain he will never give up. The freedom of hope susstains us, Jamess of Sextus.”
That phrase again, one that Posd said to me back in my cell. I'm sure it holds meaning for them, maybe linking up with Stoods' mention of revolution, but I'm too weak to start putting it all together in my mind, the sickness making it impossible to stop shivering for a moment. I'm not sure when I last managed to keep food down, my body a continual mess of muscle cramps and bone-deep aches, the pain in my head growing by the hour. Maybe the end's closer than I thought, and my mind races to Spock, wondering what he's doing and if he's got the capability to miss me at all. Hell, I know that he does. Spock, God, Spock, we had a connection beyond my understanding that I wish we'd had more time to explore. I can't believe that I missed for so long how his eyes are the stars that guide me, or how one half-smile from him renders the transporter obsolete, like I could soar into the skies unaided.
“The toxin is taking itss hold. There is little I can do for you, save easse your passage.”
A million dirty jokes spring to mind but I suddenly don't have the energy to make them. Definitely don't have the audience. “You're going to drug me up? Excellent, bring it on.”
“I musst warn you that the drug itsself contains quantities of tritanium that may hassten your end.”
I swallow on a dry throat and reach out for the silvery transparent flask he hands me, which is full of that same heady golden liquid. “Good. My job's done here. Is it possible to overdose on this stuff?”
His eyes fill with tears once more and he shakes his head as he presses at my shoulder with fingers that are surprisingly delicate in touch, considering their size. “It is not, so drink deeply. Your shoulder pains you still?”
I take a small sip of the sweet wine, not wanting to risk my gut throwing another literal shit fit. “No more or less than anything else.”
“Know that the gratitude of the men of Ping goes with you, Captain Jamess.” His hiss worms into my ear as he leans in to check the strapping of my bandage. “Your story will be told for generationss to come.”
Great. Everyone's grateful to me. I guess I didn't manage to save the hundreds that my dad did but at least I saved my friends. I saved Spock and you'd think that'd help more than it does, but I wasted a full year with him, memorizing his every word and subtle expression, his neat manners and wry sense of humor, the simmering emotional self that I've grown to learn is never far from the surface, even in calmer times. I wasted it waiting for him to notice me and jerking myself stupid with his name on my lips like some sex-starved teenager.
“My Jamess! Hussband, word has reached me of your ills.”
Sextus storms through the opening door, the vanishing mists of the tritanium whirling around him like dark wings as he speeds across the room to throw himself on the bed next to me, jarring my body painfully and setting my belly to grumble in warning.
“Easy, Sextus. Don't move me around too much.”
“My healer, report to me on what ailss this sweet figure?” Sextus strokes down my cheek and over my beard with the back of one thick finger. “Dearesst, my only, I would save you your pain and take it into mysself if I could.”
Pishn has left the bed and is wiping his hands, I'm hoping on a cleaner cloth than the one he was holding earlier. “What have you heard, Prime Sen?”
“Your assistant reported to my offices that you had been called by Stoods of Pinsnah to assist my hussband. What is your sickness, hussband? You cannot keep it from me.”
I smile weakly, finally able to pity him, knowing that whatever insanity he's infected with means that he believes he loves me completely. “I think it's time we had that talk. Pishn, if you could give us a minute? A cycle, I mean. Several cycles.” I correct myself as he frowns in incomprehension.
“Of coursse, Jamess of Sextus. Prime Sen, I will wait in your chamberss beyond to confirm whatever medical information your hussband has to impart to you. My patient, do not forget your medication.”
I toast him with my flask as he leaves us, Sextus settling into the bed next to me, placing an arm across my prone figure with considerate gentleness.
“What is it you wissh to speak to me, my only love?”
How to start?
“Look at me, Sextus. Really look at me. Don't you notice anything different about me from when you first saw me on your comm system?”
“I first saw you in your Federation's holovids, my Jamess. Your beauty, your potency and strength. I knew then that you were my only match, my soul's true equal.”
“That's all very well, but don't I look different to you now?”
“Your chin hairss are much grown. They add a certain additional massculinity to your appearance, little one.”
“No, Sextus.” I throw back the covers as far as I can. “I'm half the man you met. I'm covered in bruises that aren't healing, I'm unable to eat. Look at my shorts.”
I pull the waistband out, my hipbones poking out above the flat hollow of my belly. “Remember how these were once too tight?”
“You are perhapss somewhat slimmed down, but that excites my virility, lover. Such slender perfection.”
His hand strokes over my stomach possessively and I don't have the strength left to push his hand away. “But do you remember what me and Bones told you, about the tritanium poisoning us? It's killing me. I'm dying, Sextus.”
His hand pauses in its caress and he looks up at me, his eyes filling with desperation. “But that was a transsparent ploy to turn my heart away from you. Now that you have accepted me as your hussband, there is no need for such deception.”
I don't think I have the time left to get this through to him so I take his face in the fingers of my one hand, stroking through his glossy curls and thumbing over his mouth. “I meant what I told you that day in the Great Ring. Every word.” Okay, that's too much bullshit even for me to get away with. “Well, not every word, but I meant it when I swore I'd live out the rest of my days with you as your husband. I'm just not sure that I have a full day left. I'm sorry.”
“No.” It's cracked and husky. “No, my Jamess. Thiss cannot be, we have our lives ahead of us. Full and happy, children and friends and sharing of oursselves.”
I've got nothing left to say, so repeat myself instead. “I'm sorry, Sextus.”
“No. Do you hear me, my Jamess? I refusse this! I will not let it happen, Pishn and his healers can soothe your ills and return you to your former strengths, I am certain of it.”
“Pishn knows I'm dying, too. He'll tell you that every word of this is true.”
I can tell that I'm mumbling, the few small sips of wine I've managed beginning to take effect, or maybe it's the sickness taking over my brain, swamping the few healthy cells I've got left. I've never been more exhausted or ready to lie down and let the darkness come.
“No, pleasse! My lover, my heart's match, you cannot leave me as I will surely die from it mysself. I will follow at your heels willingly rather than let you go.”
“Sextus, I'm sorry.” He's sobbing into my stomach now, that big golden body shaking with emotion that I can't deny is real to him. I stroke through his hair again, wanting to provide some sort of comfort. “But I'm tired and I can't have this discussion again.”
His eyes are brimming with more tears as he looks at me with eyes that reflect everything I've felt since watching Spock say goodbye. In this moment he shares my heartbreak. Then his tears flow down his cheeks and he closes his eyes, shifting on the bed to curl up behind me, swamping me carefully as he pulls me into his embrace. “Then resst, dear one, and forgive me if I choosse to selfisshly steal the chance to witness every one of your precious breaths.”
“That would be great.”
It's the honest truth, because I don't want to sleep alone and even his arms are a comfort as I slide into a sleep I'm not sure I'll wake from.
-
What the - Oh, this is excellent. I've started hallucinating. Or I'm dead and this is some fucked up afterlife, my mind bringing Spock into being, glowing with vitality and strength, beard gone, his face staring down at me intensely from the foot of the bed. I whisper his name to myself, a benediction, and his eyes flare with emotion. I must be dreaming again. He lifts a phaser and points it at me and I'm opening my mouth to tell him to stop, don't shoot, but all that comes out is a croak. He doesn't fire, holding it there steady, his thumb ready, his eyes burning into me stronger than any phaser fire. Then it definitely turns into a nightmare because Sneck is at his shoulder, looking down at me with the arrogant sneer that makes me want to smack it off his face. He places his hand on Spock's shoulder and they look united.
But the phaser's not pointed at me and there's a body against mine under the covers, warm, naked skin, hard muscle, a mouth at my shoulder. It's the most vivid dream I remember having, turning to look at Sextus's face sleeping peacefully at my side, his shaggy head tucked into his arm, his other hand curled over my stomach. I feel almost tender towards him, looking down at him for the short second it takes for Sneck to speak and for me to realize that I'm not dreaming, that I'm awake, Spock looking down at me in bed with Sextus.
“Sextus of Jamess, awaken. Your desstiny awaits you.”
“What's going on?” It's spoken through a dry cough that starts the pain up in my head and I flinch, pressing the ball of my hand to my forehead. “Spock?”
“Captain. Wake your husband.”
“He's not my . . .” There's no point. Whatever's going on, and I start to dare hope it's some kind of rescue attempt, I don't have the energy for explanations. I nudge Sextus with my elbow, moving away from him as Spock keeps the phaser focused on Sextus alone. “Hey, Sextus. We've got visitors.”
“Hmm?” He rubs his nose against my shoulder and hugs into me tighter. “Tell them to go. I wissh to sleep further.”
“I don't think that's an option.”
“It is not.” Sneck's wearing some kind of animal fur hanging from his shoulders, held with a glittering clasp. It's the first thing I've seen here that doesn't look like it's made from tritanium, something old instead. “Sextus, waken!” He kicks the end of the bed. “You would have me drag you unclothed from your sleep?”
“Only you possess such barbaric mannerss, Sneck of Padnuss.” Sextus shifts from me to sit up, yawning wide and combing his fingers through his hair, his face taking on a regal cast as he imperiously lifts his chin. “Who admitss you to my sleeping chamber? Explain yoursselves and your pressence here.”
“Hussband! Come explain to your former Sen what bringss us to rousst him out his slumberss.”
Now Padnus is scurrying through the door wearing a placatory expression as he smiles timidly at Sextus. Jesus, this is happening. I try to sit up but my strength fails me so I lie there, a burning acidity rising in my throat as I swallow it down and wonder what's going to happen next. More specifically, exactly when the rescuing's going to begin, because my lungs are tight this morning and breathing feels like I'm fighting against a thick band that won't allow my chest to expand.
“Sextus of Jamess, your rule is come to an end. The five familiess are now in control of your government, with the support of your people.”
It's like none of them know Sextus, his body stilling next to mine, his eyes narrowing as he takes it in. “As ussual you speak in nonssenses, Padnuss of Sneck. I am loved by the men of Ping.”
Sneck growls, grabbing the end of the coverlet and tugging it back hard exposing my wasted body in its sagging shorts, and Sextus, in all his bare golden glory. I start to shiver as the colder air hits me, unable to stop it, my voice quavering and my lips cracking as I look at Spock again. I can't not look. He's as matchless as he ever was, his arms muscled under his Sciences shirt, his legs so long and elegant in those black pants that look like they were designed with him in mind. I know I must look like some ancient unearthed corpse deprived of its wrappings.
“Commander, enlighten me on what the hell's going on?”
“You dare!”
Too late, they got Sextus pissed. He's been hovering over the edge of madness since I've known him, a sociopath unable to to empathize with any one person outside of himself, charming, egocentric and prone to fits of grandiosity, and breathtakingly single-minded when it comes to his own needs. I give Spock an urgent Holy fuck, don't poke the tiger look and the skin creases between his eyebrows where he clearly hasn't got a clue what I'm trying to impart.
“You dare inssult me and my hussband in this fasshion.” He gets up to stand on the bed like some Roman statue, his muscles bulging with a might unmatched by the admittedly ripped Sneck or Padnus. “You dare to come into the quarterss of the Sen and spout poissonous assinities that only reflect your dessire to unseat the greatesst Sen this world has known.”
“Spock . . .” This is going to turn nasty, I can sense it, the air getting thick, my stomach beginning its usual morning dance of nausea. There's going to be a fight and I'm not going to be worth a damn.
“I have the former Sen in my sights, Captain.”
“The weak alwayss ressort to weapons. You have no strength with which to challenge me and my greatness. And you, Padnuss, sniveling worm, will pay for your betrayals.”
His hands are clenching and unclenching, his muscles bunched ready to spring. Surely they can see that he's about to go off like a warp breach but Sneck starts to laugh, a low hissing sound full of smug triumph, almost a snigger as if Sextus is the most pitiful thing he's ever encountered.
“You pleasse me, Sextus of Jamess. I had hoped you would not retire with dignity and so force me to bring you to your kneess.”
“Which is what you have so longed for, is it not, you overbred beasst? The five familiess are nothing and my rule is abssolute.” Sextus takes one step, then another towards them at the end of the bed and I start wishing I had the quilt back so I had something to hide under. “Lower your ridiculous armamentss, Spock of Sneck and Padnuss. You have no place in these occurences.”
“I am here to secure the immediate release of Captain James Kirk. Comply and we will absent ourselves from your current upheaval.”
“You.” Sextus's eyes narrow further to slits, color rising up his chest and neck. “It iss you, I have susspected it all along. You would take him from me. You dessire him for yoursself.”
Spock's expression doesn't move a muscle. “You are imprisoning a citizen of the United Federation of Planets against his will, and I am authorized by Starfleet and by the new government of Ping to ensure his captivity now comes to an end. Release Captain Kirk to my supervision.”
“I will not, you ssnake, you foul interloper. I have heard of you Vulcanss and your abilitiess, you poissoned his mind againsst me from the start.” Sextus is now standing on the corner of the bed closest Spock, towering over him, the phaser looking like a kid's toy in comparison to that wall of solid chest. Unless Spock's got it set to fry, which I doubt, knowing him, I'm worried it'll have as much effect on Sextus as a spitball on a charging rhino. “He is my hussband, and has pledged himsself to me and me alone. I have his word.”
“If I can interrupt a second here . . .” They all look over at my mumbled sentence, every word an effort now. “Sextus, calm down. You can't fight a revolution alone.”
“But, my Jamess, thiss puny specimen would have us be parted.”
“I made my promise to you under duress. You can't expect me to hold to it.”
“Little one, pleasse.” The tears start again, his mouth folding in on itself. “I will die without the light of your pressence.”
Sneck laughs again, that gross hiss setting my head ringing. “No, Sextus of Jamess, you will take your punisshment in the Great Ring as befits the oppressor of Pingian men.”
“Cram it, Sneck. Let me talk.” Just the few words I've spoken have taken it out of me and the bile's rising again, the shivering growing stronger. “The light of my presence grows weak and, either way, you're going to have to learn to live without it, Sextus. I need to go with the Commander.”
Wrong thing to say. He roars 'Desspised trespasser!' and launches himself at Spock with the speed of a rattlesnake striking, knocking the phaser out of Spock's hand with such force that it shatters against the far wall. But Spock's lightning-fast reflexes kick in and he blocks a blow from Sextus with his forearm, jabbing at a point beneath Sextus's ribs with his pointed fingers which makes Sextus cry out in pain and rage, stumbling off the bed to grab Spock with both hands. He headbutts Spock, making Spock stagger and blink as if dazed, Sextus powerfully backhanding Sneck to the floor as Sneck tries to pull him away from Spock. All I am able to do is observe, my arms strong as wet paper as I try to drag myself to the end of the bed to reason with Sextus, Padnus crouching over the fallen Sneck protectively as Sextus drags Spock to his feet, cupping Spock's chin with one hand to lift Spock off the ground.
“Sextus, please, don't do this . . .”
Dammit, my gut's acting up and I start to vomit over the bed, spitting it out and trying once again to haul myself over to them as Spock manages to kick his way out of Sextus's grasp. But Sextus spins fast, driving his elbow into Spock's neck before lifting Spock once more and shaking him like a dog with a ragdoll.
“I'll stay.” I bring up another mouthful of acid and spit it over the side of the bed, the pains of the cramps taking over until I can't get my words out, my whisper dying out to a dull wheeze. “Sextus, I'll stay, don't kill him.”
Spock doesn't lose his composure for a second, his face darkening to green as Sextus squeezes the air out of Spock's throat, spittle flying from his raging lips. Spock's reaching out, concentrating on trying to get to that point on Sextus's shoulder that would enable him to put an instant stop to this but his arms aren't long enough, Sextus beginning to laugh manically.
“I would have you die, Vulcan intruder, and then he shall be mine into hisstory and beyond. He has alwayss been mine and alwayss will be, and you will recognize the truth of thiss before you perissh.”
BAM!
Spock falls to the floor with a pained 'oof!' as Sextus crashes down like a falling tree. I swear I feel the bed quake as he hits the floor and stays there, knocked out cold by the painting Stoods is now trying to replace on the wall, frowning when he can't make the crumpled frame fit flat to the wall.
“It is a shame. Thiss work is by a renowned artisst and I fear it is now damaged beyond repair.”
I stare at Stoods open-mouthed. “I thought you didn't like to get involved in politics?”
“The freedom of hope susstains us, Captain Jamess. Bessides,” He stares down at Sextus then pokes him with a sandled toe. “I found that I could not bear lissten to a single word out of that monsstrous egotisstical mouth one moment longer.”
Something tells me I'm going to be a lot more considerate of Rand's needs in the future.
-
“I need to see him.”
“No, you don't. I'm worried the transporter's going to be too much for you as it is. Lord knows you've put your body through enough without the additional stressors of dismantling it on an atomic level. Goddamn unnatural contraption.”
“Bullshit. I'm doing better since that last hypo.”
“No, Jim, you're an hour away from compost and I need to get you back to Sickbay.” Bones clicks his scanner off, keying a few commands into his medical tricorder. “Okay. Into the chair with him.”
Stoods lifts me from the bed as if I weigh about as much as a baby, settling me into the chair then tucking the regulation-issue thermal blanket around me to make sure I keep warm.
“I believe you are ready to depart with your friendss, Captain Jamess.”
I take his hand, squeezing it feebly as he blushes. “I can't begin to thank you enough. Stoods, my man, I'm going to miss you. You tell that jealous husband of yours that he's got some serious competition if we ever figure out a way to limit tritanium's toxicity.”
“I think that I will choosse to dissregard that requesst.” He disengages his hand and smiles down at me, a true smile for the first time, wide and one that'd make me more than a little weak-kneed if I was able to stand. “And I believe you have your own heart's passions to follow. Do not wasste that which has been placed in your handss once more, my friend.”
“Go tell it on the mountain.” Bones fires up the chair, which hums as it rises up to hover an inch above the floor. “Now, no bitching, I'm getting you off this rock.”
“No. Five minutes with him, that's all I'm asking. He's sick, you know that.”
A sigh from above me as Bones begins to guide my chair out the door of the Sen's private quarters, now overrun with Sneck's assistants who are wasting no time in ringing in the changes, bringing in ceremonial shields, furs, helmets with great phallic horns and a shit ton of paintings way dirtier than anything Sextus ever displayed. “In so far as you can describe a megalomanic, sociopathic, walking personality disorder who maintained a fascistic totalitarian state for three generations unchallenged as merely sick, then yeah, I guess I can't disagree with that. I don't know what good you think it'll do.”
“It's not for him. It's for me.”
“Dammit Jim, don't tell me you actually developed feelings for that brute?” Bones drops his voice, leaning over the chair's back to mutter in my ear. “I know all these guys have their own charm but we heard what he was planning to do to you, in the public arena of all places. You don't owe him a single second of your time and I need you to put your physiological recovery first.”
“Five minutes, Bones. I need to, I don't know, put a lid on this place and he's a part of that.”
An annoyed huff and I grin, loving every pained grump that Bones can come up with, which has been a fair few so far. Fuck, I've missed him too much. “Five minutes, no longer, and I'm going to chaperone.”
“I'm strong enough to see him alone.”
“Five minutes with me as your wing man or this chair will suffer a surprise malfunction and immediately drive you to the transport co-ordinates by itself.”
“Aren't you doctor types supposed to put the needs of your patient first?”
He ruffles my hair. “I am, you cretinous twit.”
Sextus looks so small in there, tucked into his knees, cowed and shivering wrapped in a thin blanket, and trapped in a similar cell to the one he had me held in. A thick bandage covering the wound on his forehead is stained dark gold and his eyes are staring at the far wall while he mutters to himself, rocking back and forth. I nod to the guard who switches off the viewscreen on the wall and steps forward to open the door for me and Bones, following us to stand close behind.
“What is the meaning of thiss interruption of my thoughtss?” Sounds like even revolution hasn't managed to knock any of the ego out of him. But his eyes light up when they see me, his face splitting in a beautiful smile. “My Jamess! Oh, sweet one, you have come to comfort my ills.”
He throws off the blanket and gets to his feet, crossing the tiny cell in two steps, Bones clearing his throat and fixing Sextus with his best 'I've got a hypo and I'm not afraid to use it' glare. “Hands off the captain and keep your distance. You've done enough damage already.”
“Bones, c'mon. No, Sextus, I've come to say goodbye. I'm beaming back to the ship.”
“No. No, no no, pleasse, you musst not say such thingss, dearesst.” He crouches in front of me to take my hands in his, and his head's at the height of mine as I watch his eyes well up. “You musst not leave me here with these animals. They say I have done terrible things, when all I have done, I have done for the glory of the men of Ping. Their liess are as a dissease, eating away at the heartss of thosse who once loved me.”
“There's nothing I can do about that.” I rub my thumbs over the backs of his massive hands, remembering their strength and feeling how he's now trembling harder than I am. “And I know you think you loved me but I sincerely hope you can move on now, take your punishment with a man's heart and make amends with those you've wronged. Can you do that for me?”
“I could do anything for you, little one, if I had you at my side.”
“That's not going to happen but I hope things work out for you. There's someone else out there for you, someone better suited for you to pour all that love into. Make this better, Sextus. Help heal your people.”
He bows his head, closing his eyes causing tears to pour down his cheeks as he nods mutely, resigned, releasing my hands from his. “I will do my besst to pleasse you and make you proud of me, my Jamess.”
“That's all I can ask.” I stroke over his hair one last time, one of his curls wrapping itself around my finger as if every part of him is trying to hold me there with him. “Goodbye, Sextus. Look after yourself and get healthy, okay?”
He's curled on the floor at my feet now on his knees, his shoulders racked with tearing sobs, and his stuttered 'Farewell, little one' twists my heart in a guilt I'm not sure I deserve. I look at Bones over my shoulder.
“I think I'm done here.”
“It's about damn time.”
Sneck and Padnus are waiting for us at the transporter co-ordinates along with a relieved-looking Giotto, in that first same cavern we originally beamed down into all those weeks past. I'm huddled down in the chair fighting sleep, my body weighted with the medication Bones is already pumping through my system, the sharp pains dulling to a low throbbing ache that I feel everywhere, and I don't think I'm capable of dealing with Sneck or his antagonism right now.
“Hey, Cupcake.” I wince as he shakes my hand and 'Captain's me a little too enthusiastically. “Your friends here come to see that I'm gone for good?”
“On the contrary, Captain Jamess. We would not wissh for your pressence here to end without a feasst in your honor, if it was not for your ailmentss. Our people owe you a great debt.”
Sneck bows low from the waist, Padnus following. Okay. Wasn't expecting that. “Uh, not at all. I'm just glad I'm going home while I still retain the ability to breathe.”
“Do not doubt your influence in assissting our great revolution. It hass been a long time coming, Captain Jamess, and planned for many yearss. All we needed was one lasst disstraction to kept our beloved former Sen otherwisse diverted while we moved into place.”
“You used our being here as an opportunity to take down Sextus?”
If by any chance I live a hundred years more, it won't be long enough to forget that aggravating, skin-crawling smile of Sneck's. “Who do you think perssuaded the Sen of the value of Federation assisstance? My hussband here is a credit to his forebearss.”
Padnus flushes in pleasure as Sneck caresses his arm, but I guess Bones hasn't leveled out my hormones yet as I feel pressure rising, heat building all over me. “You invited us here for this? To whore me out to the Sen as a distraction?”
“Of coursse, Captain Jamess. Why elsse?” He genuinely doesn't seem to understand why I might take offense to that. “A few off-worlders would have been a small price to pay for our freedom, and their hussbands assissted our effortss while they had the additional benefit of your crew's mosst intimate company.”
“I don't believe these guys. Get me out of here.” I spit it through gritted teeth. “Jesus, Lieutenant, get me off this goddamn toxic rock and away from these self-congratulatory assholes before I pop a blood vessel.”
“No problem, Captain. And while I'm at it,” Cupcake hocks a loogie on the ground at their feet with impressive accuracy. I knew there was a reason I promoted him. “That's what we think of this stinking planet. You're welcome to it. Now signal our ship to get us the hell out of here.”
The swirling white lights of the transporter dance around me and I close my eyes, the brightness too much after six weeks of living underground. But then I breathe in and smell her, my beautiful bird, her recycled air that's sweeter and more refreshing than an ice cold beer on a hot summer day. No sugary musk of tritanium, just a clean, pure atmosphere that I take in by lungfuls until I'm dizzy and ready to pass out.
“Take it easy, Captain.” Bones' scanner starts whirring by my earlobe but I don't open my eyes, just wanting this, the scent of home. “Doctor McCoy to Sickbay: Prepare for an emergency transportation. Scotty, I need him there now. Right now.”
“Aye, Doc. Coming righ' up.”
“Hey, where's Spock . . . Bones, where's Spock?” I'm gasping, my lungs starting to feel like they're not working, like I've beamed into an unoxygenated atmosphere by accident. “Something's hap. . .”
I can't talk, nothing coming out as my body cramps up, my head snapping backwards. Somewhere in the distance I can feel the jab of a hypo at my neck and hear Bones shout out 'He's seizing. Now, Scotty, I need that transport now!'
Pairings: Eventual Kirk/Spock (with some background Sulu/Chekov UST), but prior to that, bridge crew/OMCs
Rating: NC-17
Length: Near 8k
For: awarrington ♥
Warnings: Sickness, angst, cliffhangertastic
Summary: The Enterprise crew makes contact with a planet where an all-male society thinks they're sexual catnip, and decides to keep and marry them all against their will.
I wake from a nightmare about that time I got stuck under a a roofing joist in a derelict house back home, to find Sextus's arm slung across me, his mouth open somewhere above my head gusting my hair with his snores. It takes a few minutes to inch out from underneath him as I'm still too raw to deal with Sextus this early, having fallen asleep in his arms after pledging that I'll give myself to him today, and that I'll do it willingly, with all my heart.
The wriggling action it takes to get out of bed without waking him sends my belly into its now-familiar spasm, my mouth filling with rancid bile that I've got no choice but to spit out into the water pitcher now I'm bound to one room once more without Stoods' assistance. Pitcher or floor, either way it's coming out fast. I puke and puke till my stomach feels hollowed out, my gut concave and cramping beneath my ribs and my shoulder stinging with a pain that's not right, something not in its correct place. The puking triggers a coughing fit I can't stop and I'm bent over trying to hack up a lung when I first feel Sextus's fingers sliding up my naked back.
“Hussband, how may I best assist you?”
I hold up a finger until the coughing slows and stops, Sextus stroking attentive hands over my skin the whole time. “Okay, I'm good. Thanks.”
“You wissh for refresshment?”
He gets out of bed naked and moves to lift the pitcher, and I stop him with a hand on my arm, his eyes immediately darkening in the dimmed torchlight and gazing down at my fingers on him. “Sorry, the water's dirty. I'm okay.”
“You are certain?” His hand covers mine to hold my touch there. “You did not sound healthful, little one.”
“Yeah.” I'm recovered enough to pull my hand away to start my early morning beard scratch before tugging my shorts out of my ass where they've wedged themselves firmly overnight. It's early, I'm not sure of the time but I can tell we've not slept long, Sextus's eyes puffy and dry-looking as he scrubs at them with his knuckles like a little kid. “I need to talk to you but now's not the time. Let's wake up first. My shoulder's killing me and I could do with a soak in the tub to ease it out.”
“'Tub'?”
“My bathing pool.”
“Ah. Yes, of coursse, my sweet.”
He brushes the wall with his fingertips to lighten the room, opens the door and calls for Stoods, who I'm never quite sure finds the time to sleep or spend time with that husband of his as he's here already, carrying a tray overflowing with fruit into the room for us.
“Prime Sen, Jamess of Sextus, I am here to serve.”
Sextus lies down on his stomach across the bed to start picking off silvery grapes to pop into his mouth one by one, his ass enormous and muscular, gleaming like two wet melons in the increased light. But I barely notice it, Stoods' choice of phrasing instantly gaining my attention. I am here to serve. I don't think he's ever put it like that, not on a single morning that I can recall. But I stare at him, waiting for some sign, a wink or significant glance to tell me it's some kind of message. Instead he picks up the water pitcher to fill and looks into it with a disgusted curl of his upper lip.
“My hussband wisshes to bathe, so attend to his needs.”
“Pake of Snazd is to esscort Jamess of Sextus to his bathing chamber thiss morning, Prime Sen.”
“Pake's a misery. You take me.”
“I have other duties, Jamess of Sextus.”
“Then Pake of Snazd may attend to them.” Sextus chews on another grape before tossing one across the room, hitting Stoods an inch above his nipple. Someone's in a playful mood this morning. “My hussband has made his wisshes clear.”
“Of coursse, Prime Sen.” Stoods takes a slow, measured breath then turns to me, his expression neutral. “Pleasse, follow with me.”
I keep up with his long stride for a few minutes before I have to stop, bending over with my right hand on my knee as I catch my breath and allow my gut to settle, my left arm tightly held into my body.
“You are in pain, Jamess of Sextus?”
“Y'know, any time you want to quit calling me that is fine by me. Was the bathroom always this far?”
“Its disstance is unchanged, as is your title.”
It's prickly, a hint of pissiness to it that I can't ignore. “Is there a problem, Stoods?”
“Not of my awareness. You are well enough to continue?”
“Yeah, think so.” I try to stretch some of the aches out of my lower back, feeling the rising sick fever slicing my head in two again. “But take it slow. You may not have noticed but I got hit by a Sextus-shaped dump truck yesterday.”
He turns from me and starts off down the pathway again, no hint of the slow-germinating friendship between us that I thought we'd started to develop. I do my best to keep up but we have to stop two more times as I start to get worried I'm going to mess my shorts. By the time the familiar curve to the bathroom's doorway comes into sight, I'm clenching my asshole hard and sweating so freely it's soaking my skin.
“Quick, the door, and you might want to make yourself scarce because it's not going to be pretty.”
“I am here to attend to you.”
“No, I mean it. There're some jobs nobody should have to deal with.”
“Pinsnah, the lord of my heart, would be dissappointed in me if I did not assist you to the besst of my ability.”
He says it kindly as he helps me through the door, my legs weaker than ever like I've been running a long race, my stomach cramping hotly the closer I get to the crapper. I fumble with my shorts, finding it tough to get them down with one hand, but Stoods brushes it away and slides them down himself, even going so far as to help me sit. Then my gut empties explosively as I double up in pain, groaning and unable to disguise how much it hurts, my cheeks warm with humiliation, my voice shaky when I finally get the strength to speak.
“Thanks. Don't think I could've made it by myself, which would've been messy.”
“Then I have saved mysself an undessirable chore, wouldn't you say?” His fingers are gentle as he brushes sweat-damp hair out of my eyes and I look up, remembering how just a simple touch of my skin sent him to the edges of control when we first met. But now there's none of that raging Pingian libido there, just a sweet sympathetic smile as he cups my chin and begins to dab my brow with a wet cloth. “Why have you not informed me of your sickness?”
I grunt and start to shiver as another hard cramp sends a barrage of hot liquid splashing into the john. I haven't passed anything solid for two weeks and I hate this, hate my weakness and his gentle touch as he starts to nursemaid me.
“Because there's nothing you can do about it. Your planet is poisonous to me, all of it, the entire environment. I don't think I've got more than a few days left, if that.”
I don't know what I'm expecting, a comment of surprise or concern, or maybe that he'd throw himself at my ankles and swear to get me out of here, no matter what it takes. I didn't expect this, him simply continuing to calmly sponge me down.
“You musst see the Sen's healer once more.”
“There's no point doing anything but accepting the inevitable, but thanks.”
He rinses out the cloth in the shallow basin beside him before wringing it out over my head, allowing the cool water to trickle down my face, neck and back. “I had grown to expect more of you.”
“Well, I'm sorry to let you down once more but, there you go, I'm fallible.”
Stoods stands back from me at that while I carefully wipe my ass, wincing because my butthole feels like it's on fire, then he looks down at me with his head tilted to one side in a posture so similar to Spock that it feels like my heart breaks all over again. “You are a strong, willful man, ruled by your heart in the same manner that I am mysself. You are proud, and have ressource beyond meassure, and you will see the healer once again, my friend. It is of utmosst importance that you do, and that is all I am able to speak on the matter.”
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
“I do not involve mysself in matters of politics.”
“Stoods, what are you trying to tell me? I knew it, you do know something.”
His face is carefully blank. “Do you require my assisstance to the pool, or wissh for me to remain so that you are not beset with pains and put yoursself in danger of drowning?”
“Yes, I require you to stay. Talk to me.” I manage to stand, grasping at his arm, my shorts around my ankles but I'm beyond caring. “Tell me what you know. Tell me, dammit, my life might depend on it.”
I seem to have appealed to his sense of right, his massive shoulders lifting and falling on a heavy sigh. “Every word I may speak on it puts me, and therefore my hussband, in danger. But the attendants speak amongsst themsselves and there has been talk.”
“Of what? I swear to you that I'll keep you out of this.”
“You do not possess the power necessary to achieve that aim.”
“I need to know.”
“I musst attend to my other duties, and will return to esscort you to your living quarters shortly.”
“Stoods, fuck, please.” But he ignores me, walking stiffly around the flickering pool towards the door. “Stoods, come on, I'm begging you for your help. What have you heard?”
He doesn't turn to face me, his voice a low hiss as he whispers one word, 'Revolution', before activating the door and disappearing down the corridor.
-
He's weeping silently, his shoulders shaking as he turns from me and covers his face with both hands. Bones' husband has been a discreet, almost shy presence in my life these past few weeks, barely exchanging more than a few niceties before starting to ask for a list of symptoms, and now he's sobbing his heart out a foot away from me on the bed.
“Pishn? What's the matter? Was it something I said?”
“No, no, Jamess of Sextus.” He sniffs, blowing his nose into a cloth that he stuffs back into his medical kit as he continues to hiccup with suppressed cries. “Jusst to look at your face . . .”
He crumbles again and I haven't got a clue about what the hell I can do to help him out. “My face? My face is making you cry? I'm not that ugly.”
“No, you are almost perfection itself. Like him, my beautiful hussband, who you have taken from me.”
He scrambles for the cloth again to weep into while I try to get my head around the concept of anyone thinking Bones is beautiful. Hot in a squinty sort of way once he's got a full head of steam going, I'm the first to admit it, but beautiful? “I'm sorry. You must hate me, I'm aware of that.”
“No!” Pishn sniffles into his cloth then turns to face me, twin tear tracks marking dark paths on his shining face, his eyelashes spiked around eyes a brighter purple than most. “No, Jamess of Sextus, you saved him and, for that, I owe you my life. I above all am aware of your sacrifice for thosse we so love and I cannot repay your bravery, but pleasse know that I am faithful to your causse.”
“My cause?” I didn't know I had one of them. “You must miss him. I know I do.”
“My heart witherss without the light of his pressence, but I would rather Leonard livess on elssewhere than dies cradled within my adoring arms. Although, without his greatesst friend, as I believe you are, his days would be all the poorer.”
“True.”
He nods in agreement while wiping his nose. Seriously, these people never get my jokes.
“Which is why I feel the ability to state that I am certain he will never give up. The freedom of hope susstains us, Jamess of Sextus.”
That phrase again, one that Posd said to me back in my cell. I'm sure it holds meaning for them, maybe linking up with Stoods' mention of revolution, but I'm too weak to start putting it all together in my mind, the sickness making it impossible to stop shivering for a moment. I'm not sure when I last managed to keep food down, my body a continual mess of muscle cramps and bone-deep aches, the pain in my head growing by the hour. Maybe the end's closer than I thought, and my mind races to Spock, wondering what he's doing and if he's got the capability to miss me at all. Hell, I know that he does. Spock, God, Spock, we had a connection beyond my understanding that I wish we'd had more time to explore. I can't believe that I missed for so long how his eyes are the stars that guide me, or how one half-smile from him renders the transporter obsolete, like I could soar into the skies unaided.
“The toxin is taking itss hold. There is little I can do for you, save easse your passage.”
A million dirty jokes spring to mind but I suddenly don't have the energy to make them. Definitely don't have the audience. “You're going to drug me up? Excellent, bring it on.”
“I musst warn you that the drug itsself contains quantities of tritanium that may hassten your end.”
I swallow on a dry throat and reach out for the silvery transparent flask he hands me, which is full of that same heady golden liquid. “Good. My job's done here. Is it possible to overdose on this stuff?”
His eyes fill with tears once more and he shakes his head as he presses at my shoulder with fingers that are surprisingly delicate in touch, considering their size. “It is not, so drink deeply. Your shoulder pains you still?”
I take a small sip of the sweet wine, not wanting to risk my gut throwing another literal shit fit. “No more or less than anything else.”
“Know that the gratitude of the men of Ping goes with you, Captain Jamess.” His hiss worms into my ear as he leans in to check the strapping of my bandage. “Your story will be told for generationss to come.”
Great. Everyone's grateful to me. I guess I didn't manage to save the hundreds that my dad did but at least I saved my friends. I saved Spock and you'd think that'd help more than it does, but I wasted a full year with him, memorizing his every word and subtle expression, his neat manners and wry sense of humor, the simmering emotional self that I've grown to learn is never far from the surface, even in calmer times. I wasted it waiting for him to notice me and jerking myself stupid with his name on my lips like some sex-starved teenager.
“My Jamess! Hussband, word has reached me of your ills.”
Sextus storms through the opening door, the vanishing mists of the tritanium whirling around him like dark wings as he speeds across the room to throw himself on the bed next to me, jarring my body painfully and setting my belly to grumble in warning.
“Easy, Sextus. Don't move me around too much.”
“My healer, report to me on what ailss this sweet figure?” Sextus strokes down my cheek and over my beard with the back of one thick finger. “Dearesst, my only, I would save you your pain and take it into mysself if I could.”
Pishn has left the bed and is wiping his hands, I'm hoping on a cleaner cloth than the one he was holding earlier. “What have you heard, Prime Sen?”
“Your assistant reported to my offices that you had been called by Stoods of Pinsnah to assist my hussband. What is your sickness, hussband? You cannot keep it from me.”
I smile weakly, finally able to pity him, knowing that whatever insanity he's infected with means that he believes he loves me completely. “I think it's time we had that talk. Pishn, if you could give us a minute? A cycle, I mean. Several cycles.” I correct myself as he frowns in incomprehension.
“Of coursse, Jamess of Sextus. Prime Sen, I will wait in your chamberss beyond to confirm whatever medical information your hussband has to impart to you. My patient, do not forget your medication.”
I toast him with my flask as he leaves us, Sextus settling into the bed next to me, placing an arm across my prone figure with considerate gentleness.
“What is it you wissh to speak to me, my only love?”
How to start?
“Look at me, Sextus. Really look at me. Don't you notice anything different about me from when you first saw me on your comm system?”
“I first saw you in your Federation's holovids, my Jamess. Your beauty, your potency and strength. I knew then that you were my only match, my soul's true equal.”
“That's all very well, but don't I look different to you now?”
“Your chin hairss are much grown. They add a certain additional massculinity to your appearance, little one.”
“No, Sextus.” I throw back the covers as far as I can. “I'm half the man you met. I'm covered in bruises that aren't healing, I'm unable to eat. Look at my shorts.”
I pull the waistband out, my hipbones poking out above the flat hollow of my belly. “Remember how these were once too tight?”
“You are perhapss somewhat slimmed down, but that excites my virility, lover. Such slender perfection.”
His hand strokes over my stomach possessively and I don't have the strength left to push his hand away. “But do you remember what me and Bones told you, about the tritanium poisoning us? It's killing me. I'm dying, Sextus.”
His hand pauses in its caress and he looks up at me, his eyes filling with desperation. “But that was a transsparent ploy to turn my heart away from you. Now that you have accepted me as your hussband, there is no need for such deception.”
I don't think I have the time left to get this through to him so I take his face in the fingers of my one hand, stroking through his glossy curls and thumbing over his mouth. “I meant what I told you that day in the Great Ring. Every word.” Okay, that's too much bullshit even for me to get away with. “Well, not every word, but I meant it when I swore I'd live out the rest of my days with you as your husband. I'm just not sure that I have a full day left. I'm sorry.”
“No.” It's cracked and husky. “No, my Jamess. Thiss cannot be, we have our lives ahead of us. Full and happy, children and friends and sharing of oursselves.”
I've got nothing left to say, so repeat myself instead. “I'm sorry, Sextus.”
“No. Do you hear me, my Jamess? I refusse this! I will not let it happen, Pishn and his healers can soothe your ills and return you to your former strengths, I am certain of it.”
“Pishn knows I'm dying, too. He'll tell you that every word of this is true.”
I can tell that I'm mumbling, the few small sips of wine I've managed beginning to take effect, or maybe it's the sickness taking over my brain, swamping the few healthy cells I've got left. I've never been more exhausted or ready to lie down and let the darkness come.
“No, pleasse! My lover, my heart's match, you cannot leave me as I will surely die from it mysself. I will follow at your heels willingly rather than let you go.”
“Sextus, I'm sorry.” He's sobbing into my stomach now, that big golden body shaking with emotion that I can't deny is real to him. I stroke through his hair again, wanting to provide some sort of comfort. “But I'm tired and I can't have this discussion again.”
His eyes are brimming with more tears as he looks at me with eyes that reflect everything I've felt since watching Spock say goodbye. In this moment he shares my heartbreak. Then his tears flow down his cheeks and he closes his eyes, shifting on the bed to curl up behind me, swamping me carefully as he pulls me into his embrace. “Then resst, dear one, and forgive me if I choosse to selfisshly steal the chance to witness every one of your precious breaths.”
“That would be great.”
It's the honest truth, because I don't want to sleep alone and even his arms are a comfort as I slide into a sleep I'm not sure I'll wake from.
-
What the - Oh, this is excellent. I've started hallucinating. Or I'm dead and this is some fucked up afterlife, my mind bringing Spock into being, glowing with vitality and strength, beard gone, his face staring down at me intensely from the foot of the bed. I whisper his name to myself, a benediction, and his eyes flare with emotion. I must be dreaming again. He lifts a phaser and points it at me and I'm opening my mouth to tell him to stop, don't shoot, but all that comes out is a croak. He doesn't fire, holding it there steady, his thumb ready, his eyes burning into me stronger than any phaser fire. Then it definitely turns into a nightmare because Sneck is at his shoulder, looking down at me with the arrogant sneer that makes me want to smack it off his face. He places his hand on Spock's shoulder and they look united.
But the phaser's not pointed at me and there's a body against mine under the covers, warm, naked skin, hard muscle, a mouth at my shoulder. It's the most vivid dream I remember having, turning to look at Sextus's face sleeping peacefully at my side, his shaggy head tucked into his arm, his other hand curled over my stomach. I feel almost tender towards him, looking down at him for the short second it takes for Sneck to speak and for me to realize that I'm not dreaming, that I'm awake, Spock looking down at me in bed with Sextus.
“Sextus of Jamess, awaken. Your desstiny awaits you.”
“What's going on?” It's spoken through a dry cough that starts the pain up in my head and I flinch, pressing the ball of my hand to my forehead. “Spock?”
“Captain. Wake your husband.”
“He's not my . . .” There's no point. Whatever's going on, and I start to dare hope it's some kind of rescue attempt, I don't have the energy for explanations. I nudge Sextus with my elbow, moving away from him as Spock keeps the phaser focused on Sextus alone. “Hey, Sextus. We've got visitors.”
“Hmm?” He rubs his nose against my shoulder and hugs into me tighter. “Tell them to go. I wissh to sleep further.”
“I don't think that's an option.”
“It is not.” Sneck's wearing some kind of animal fur hanging from his shoulders, held with a glittering clasp. It's the first thing I've seen here that doesn't look like it's made from tritanium, something old instead. “Sextus, waken!” He kicks the end of the bed. “You would have me drag you unclothed from your sleep?”
“Only you possess such barbaric mannerss, Sneck of Padnuss.” Sextus shifts from me to sit up, yawning wide and combing his fingers through his hair, his face taking on a regal cast as he imperiously lifts his chin. “Who admitss you to my sleeping chamber? Explain yoursselves and your pressence here.”
“Hussband! Come explain to your former Sen what bringss us to rousst him out his slumberss.”
Now Padnus is scurrying through the door wearing a placatory expression as he smiles timidly at Sextus. Jesus, this is happening. I try to sit up but my strength fails me so I lie there, a burning acidity rising in my throat as I swallow it down and wonder what's going to happen next. More specifically, exactly when the rescuing's going to begin, because my lungs are tight this morning and breathing feels like I'm fighting against a thick band that won't allow my chest to expand.
“Sextus of Jamess, your rule is come to an end. The five familiess are now in control of your government, with the support of your people.”
It's like none of them know Sextus, his body stilling next to mine, his eyes narrowing as he takes it in. “As ussual you speak in nonssenses, Padnuss of Sneck. I am loved by the men of Ping.”
Sneck growls, grabbing the end of the coverlet and tugging it back hard exposing my wasted body in its sagging shorts, and Sextus, in all his bare golden glory. I start to shiver as the colder air hits me, unable to stop it, my voice quavering and my lips cracking as I look at Spock again. I can't not look. He's as matchless as he ever was, his arms muscled under his Sciences shirt, his legs so long and elegant in those black pants that look like they were designed with him in mind. I know I must look like some ancient unearthed corpse deprived of its wrappings.
“Commander, enlighten me on what the hell's going on?”
“You dare!”
Too late, they got Sextus pissed. He's been hovering over the edge of madness since I've known him, a sociopath unable to to empathize with any one person outside of himself, charming, egocentric and prone to fits of grandiosity, and breathtakingly single-minded when it comes to his own needs. I give Spock an urgent Holy fuck, don't poke the tiger look and the skin creases between his eyebrows where he clearly hasn't got a clue what I'm trying to impart.
“You dare inssult me and my hussband in this fasshion.” He gets up to stand on the bed like some Roman statue, his muscles bulging with a might unmatched by the admittedly ripped Sneck or Padnus. “You dare to come into the quarterss of the Sen and spout poissonous assinities that only reflect your dessire to unseat the greatesst Sen this world has known.”
“Spock . . .” This is going to turn nasty, I can sense it, the air getting thick, my stomach beginning its usual morning dance of nausea. There's going to be a fight and I'm not going to be worth a damn.
“I have the former Sen in my sights, Captain.”
“The weak alwayss ressort to weapons. You have no strength with which to challenge me and my greatness. And you, Padnuss, sniveling worm, will pay for your betrayals.”
His hands are clenching and unclenching, his muscles bunched ready to spring. Surely they can see that he's about to go off like a warp breach but Sneck starts to laugh, a low hissing sound full of smug triumph, almost a snigger as if Sextus is the most pitiful thing he's ever encountered.
“You pleasse me, Sextus of Jamess. I had hoped you would not retire with dignity and so force me to bring you to your kneess.”
“Which is what you have so longed for, is it not, you overbred beasst? The five familiess are nothing and my rule is abssolute.” Sextus takes one step, then another towards them at the end of the bed and I start wishing I had the quilt back so I had something to hide under. “Lower your ridiculous armamentss, Spock of Sneck and Padnuss. You have no place in these occurences.”
“I am here to secure the immediate release of Captain James Kirk. Comply and we will absent ourselves from your current upheaval.”
“You.” Sextus's eyes narrow further to slits, color rising up his chest and neck. “It iss you, I have susspected it all along. You would take him from me. You dessire him for yoursself.”
Spock's expression doesn't move a muscle. “You are imprisoning a citizen of the United Federation of Planets against his will, and I am authorized by Starfleet and by the new government of Ping to ensure his captivity now comes to an end. Release Captain Kirk to my supervision.”
“I will not, you ssnake, you foul interloper. I have heard of you Vulcanss and your abilitiess, you poissoned his mind againsst me from the start.” Sextus is now standing on the corner of the bed closest Spock, towering over him, the phaser looking like a kid's toy in comparison to that wall of solid chest. Unless Spock's got it set to fry, which I doubt, knowing him, I'm worried it'll have as much effect on Sextus as a spitball on a charging rhino. “He is my hussband, and has pledged himsself to me and me alone. I have his word.”
“If I can interrupt a second here . . .” They all look over at my mumbled sentence, every word an effort now. “Sextus, calm down. You can't fight a revolution alone.”
“But, my Jamess, thiss puny specimen would have us be parted.”
“I made my promise to you under duress. You can't expect me to hold to it.”
“Little one, pleasse.” The tears start again, his mouth folding in on itself. “I will die without the light of your pressence.”
Sneck laughs again, that gross hiss setting my head ringing. “No, Sextus of Jamess, you will take your punisshment in the Great Ring as befits the oppressor of Pingian men.”
“Cram it, Sneck. Let me talk.” Just the few words I've spoken have taken it out of me and the bile's rising again, the shivering growing stronger. “The light of my presence grows weak and, either way, you're going to have to learn to live without it, Sextus. I need to go with the Commander.”
Wrong thing to say. He roars 'Desspised trespasser!' and launches himself at Spock with the speed of a rattlesnake striking, knocking the phaser out of Spock's hand with such force that it shatters against the far wall. But Spock's lightning-fast reflexes kick in and he blocks a blow from Sextus with his forearm, jabbing at a point beneath Sextus's ribs with his pointed fingers which makes Sextus cry out in pain and rage, stumbling off the bed to grab Spock with both hands. He headbutts Spock, making Spock stagger and blink as if dazed, Sextus powerfully backhanding Sneck to the floor as Sneck tries to pull him away from Spock. All I am able to do is observe, my arms strong as wet paper as I try to drag myself to the end of the bed to reason with Sextus, Padnus crouching over the fallen Sneck protectively as Sextus drags Spock to his feet, cupping Spock's chin with one hand to lift Spock off the ground.
“Sextus, please, don't do this . . .”
Dammit, my gut's acting up and I start to vomit over the bed, spitting it out and trying once again to haul myself over to them as Spock manages to kick his way out of Sextus's grasp. But Sextus spins fast, driving his elbow into Spock's neck before lifting Spock once more and shaking him like a dog with a ragdoll.
“I'll stay.” I bring up another mouthful of acid and spit it over the side of the bed, the pains of the cramps taking over until I can't get my words out, my whisper dying out to a dull wheeze. “Sextus, I'll stay, don't kill him.”
Spock doesn't lose his composure for a second, his face darkening to green as Sextus squeezes the air out of Spock's throat, spittle flying from his raging lips. Spock's reaching out, concentrating on trying to get to that point on Sextus's shoulder that would enable him to put an instant stop to this but his arms aren't long enough, Sextus beginning to laugh manically.
“I would have you die, Vulcan intruder, and then he shall be mine into hisstory and beyond. He has alwayss been mine and alwayss will be, and you will recognize the truth of thiss before you perissh.”
BAM!
Spock falls to the floor with a pained 'oof!' as Sextus crashes down like a falling tree. I swear I feel the bed quake as he hits the floor and stays there, knocked out cold by the painting Stoods is now trying to replace on the wall, frowning when he can't make the crumpled frame fit flat to the wall.
“It is a shame. Thiss work is by a renowned artisst and I fear it is now damaged beyond repair.”
I stare at Stoods open-mouthed. “I thought you didn't like to get involved in politics?”
“The freedom of hope susstains us, Captain Jamess. Bessides,” He stares down at Sextus then pokes him with a sandled toe. “I found that I could not bear lissten to a single word out of that monsstrous egotisstical mouth one moment longer.”
Something tells me I'm going to be a lot more considerate of Rand's needs in the future.
-
“I need to see him.”
“No, you don't. I'm worried the transporter's going to be too much for you as it is. Lord knows you've put your body through enough without the additional stressors of dismantling it on an atomic level. Goddamn unnatural contraption.”
“Bullshit. I'm doing better since that last hypo.”
“No, Jim, you're an hour away from compost and I need to get you back to Sickbay.” Bones clicks his scanner off, keying a few commands into his medical tricorder. “Okay. Into the chair with him.”
Stoods lifts me from the bed as if I weigh about as much as a baby, settling me into the chair then tucking the regulation-issue thermal blanket around me to make sure I keep warm.
“I believe you are ready to depart with your friendss, Captain Jamess.”
I take his hand, squeezing it feebly as he blushes. “I can't begin to thank you enough. Stoods, my man, I'm going to miss you. You tell that jealous husband of yours that he's got some serious competition if we ever figure out a way to limit tritanium's toxicity.”
“I think that I will choosse to dissregard that requesst.” He disengages his hand and smiles down at me, a true smile for the first time, wide and one that'd make me more than a little weak-kneed if I was able to stand. “And I believe you have your own heart's passions to follow. Do not wasste that which has been placed in your handss once more, my friend.”
“Go tell it on the mountain.” Bones fires up the chair, which hums as it rises up to hover an inch above the floor. “Now, no bitching, I'm getting you off this rock.”
“No. Five minutes with him, that's all I'm asking. He's sick, you know that.”
A sigh from above me as Bones begins to guide my chair out the door of the Sen's private quarters, now overrun with Sneck's assistants who are wasting no time in ringing in the changes, bringing in ceremonial shields, furs, helmets with great phallic horns and a shit ton of paintings way dirtier than anything Sextus ever displayed. “In so far as you can describe a megalomanic, sociopathic, walking personality disorder who maintained a fascistic totalitarian state for three generations unchallenged as merely sick, then yeah, I guess I can't disagree with that. I don't know what good you think it'll do.”
“It's not for him. It's for me.”
“Dammit Jim, don't tell me you actually developed feelings for that brute?” Bones drops his voice, leaning over the chair's back to mutter in my ear. “I know all these guys have their own charm but we heard what he was planning to do to you, in the public arena of all places. You don't owe him a single second of your time and I need you to put your physiological recovery first.”
“Five minutes, Bones. I need to, I don't know, put a lid on this place and he's a part of that.”
An annoyed huff and I grin, loving every pained grump that Bones can come up with, which has been a fair few so far. Fuck, I've missed him too much. “Five minutes, no longer, and I'm going to chaperone.”
“I'm strong enough to see him alone.”
“Five minutes with me as your wing man or this chair will suffer a surprise malfunction and immediately drive you to the transport co-ordinates by itself.”
“Aren't you doctor types supposed to put the needs of your patient first?”
He ruffles my hair. “I am, you cretinous twit.”
Sextus looks so small in there, tucked into his knees, cowed and shivering wrapped in a thin blanket, and trapped in a similar cell to the one he had me held in. A thick bandage covering the wound on his forehead is stained dark gold and his eyes are staring at the far wall while he mutters to himself, rocking back and forth. I nod to the guard who switches off the viewscreen on the wall and steps forward to open the door for me and Bones, following us to stand close behind.
“What is the meaning of thiss interruption of my thoughtss?” Sounds like even revolution hasn't managed to knock any of the ego out of him. But his eyes light up when they see me, his face splitting in a beautiful smile. “My Jamess! Oh, sweet one, you have come to comfort my ills.”
He throws off the blanket and gets to his feet, crossing the tiny cell in two steps, Bones clearing his throat and fixing Sextus with his best 'I've got a hypo and I'm not afraid to use it' glare. “Hands off the captain and keep your distance. You've done enough damage already.”
“Bones, c'mon. No, Sextus, I've come to say goodbye. I'm beaming back to the ship.”
“No. No, no no, pleasse, you musst not say such thingss, dearesst.” He crouches in front of me to take my hands in his, and his head's at the height of mine as I watch his eyes well up. “You musst not leave me here with these animals. They say I have done terrible things, when all I have done, I have done for the glory of the men of Ping. Their liess are as a dissease, eating away at the heartss of thosse who once loved me.”
“There's nothing I can do about that.” I rub my thumbs over the backs of his massive hands, remembering their strength and feeling how he's now trembling harder than I am. “And I know you think you loved me but I sincerely hope you can move on now, take your punishment with a man's heart and make amends with those you've wronged. Can you do that for me?”
“I could do anything for you, little one, if I had you at my side.”
“That's not going to happen but I hope things work out for you. There's someone else out there for you, someone better suited for you to pour all that love into. Make this better, Sextus. Help heal your people.”
He bows his head, closing his eyes causing tears to pour down his cheeks as he nods mutely, resigned, releasing my hands from his. “I will do my besst to pleasse you and make you proud of me, my Jamess.”
“That's all I can ask.” I stroke over his hair one last time, one of his curls wrapping itself around my finger as if every part of him is trying to hold me there with him. “Goodbye, Sextus. Look after yourself and get healthy, okay?”
He's curled on the floor at my feet now on his knees, his shoulders racked with tearing sobs, and his stuttered 'Farewell, little one' twists my heart in a guilt I'm not sure I deserve. I look at Bones over my shoulder.
“I think I'm done here.”
“It's about damn time.”
Sneck and Padnus are waiting for us at the transporter co-ordinates along with a relieved-looking Giotto, in that first same cavern we originally beamed down into all those weeks past. I'm huddled down in the chair fighting sleep, my body weighted with the medication Bones is already pumping through my system, the sharp pains dulling to a low throbbing ache that I feel everywhere, and I don't think I'm capable of dealing with Sneck or his antagonism right now.
“Hey, Cupcake.” I wince as he shakes my hand and 'Captain's me a little too enthusiastically. “Your friends here come to see that I'm gone for good?”
“On the contrary, Captain Jamess. We would not wissh for your pressence here to end without a feasst in your honor, if it was not for your ailmentss. Our people owe you a great debt.”
Sneck bows low from the waist, Padnus following. Okay. Wasn't expecting that. “Uh, not at all. I'm just glad I'm going home while I still retain the ability to breathe.”
“Do not doubt your influence in assissting our great revolution. It hass been a long time coming, Captain Jamess, and planned for many yearss. All we needed was one lasst disstraction to kept our beloved former Sen otherwisse diverted while we moved into place.”
“You used our being here as an opportunity to take down Sextus?”
If by any chance I live a hundred years more, it won't be long enough to forget that aggravating, skin-crawling smile of Sneck's. “Who do you think perssuaded the Sen of the value of Federation assisstance? My hussband here is a credit to his forebearss.”
Padnus flushes in pleasure as Sneck caresses his arm, but I guess Bones hasn't leveled out my hormones yet as I feel pressure rising, heat building all over me. “You invited us here for this? To whore me out to the Sen as a distraction?”
“Of coursse, Captain Jamess. Why elsse?” He genuinely doesn't seem to understand why I might take offense to that. “A few off-worlders would have been a small price to pay for our freedom, and their hussbands assissted our effortss while they had the additional benefit of your crew's mosst intimate company.”
“I don't believe these guys. Get me out of here.” I spit it through gritted teeth. “Jesus, Lieutenant, get me off this goddamn toxic rock and away from these self-congratulatory assholes before I pop a blood vessel.”
“No problem, Captain. And while I'm at it,” Cupcake hocks a loogie on the ground at their feet with impressive accuracy. I knew there was a reason I promoted him. “That's what we think of this stinking planet. You're welcome to it. Now signal our ship to get us the hell out of here.”
The swirling white lights of the transporter dance around me and I close my eyes, the brightness too much after six weeks of living underground. But then I breathe in and smell her, my beautiful bird, her recycled air that's sweeter and more refreshing than an ice cold beer on a hot summer day. No sugary musk of tritanium, just a clean, pure atmosphere that I take in by lungfuls until I'm dizzy and ready to pass out.
“Take it easy, Captain.” Bones' scanner starts whirring by my earlobe but I don't open my eyes, just wanting this, the scent of home. “Doctor McCoy to Sickbay: Prepare for an emergency transportation. Scotty, I need him there now. Right now.”
“Aye, Doc. Coming righ' up.”
“Hey, where's Spock . . . Bones, where's Spock?” I'm gasping, my lungs starting to feel like they're not working, like I've beamed into an unoxygenated atmosphere by accident. “Something's hap. . .”
I can't talk, nothing coming out as my body cramps up, my head snapping backwards. Somewhere in the distance I can feel the jab of a hypo at my neck and hear Bones shout out 'He's seizing. Now, Scotty, I need that transport now!'