fic arc: Lessons (2/4) (K/S)
Title: Blot the Sky and Block the Suns
Pairing: Pre-K/S
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed herein, nor am I making any money from this work of fiction.
Summary: Jim learns that he can't always be the hero, but it's never a bad thing to try.
The fire is not imperative. The fire is revenge and Spock is exhausted and starving enough to acknowledge the lack of logic involved. He starts it anyway.
The fire is for abducting him from the landing party, torturing him for the sake of entertainment, forcing him to live and scrounge like an animal. This rebel faction of Omega Tau 6 has known madness on the fringes of the continent. He has seen them murder children for crying and rape mothers for the same. Spock has remained alive because they do not notice him when he is not entertaining them with torture-induced displays of resilience. So he lived and he scrounged, and while he may not have eaten for close to two weeks, he has pieced together a device able to broadcast a signal to the Enterprise. It will not beam him aboard the ship, but it will harness the ship's transporting capabilities enough to 'port the small group of survivors closer to a large city, perhaps even the capital.
The fire lights the faces of a dozen women and men, frail but resolute as they watch the compound burn from a distance. The screams of men, too far from sanity to find a way out, block what Spock will later learn were the sounds of phaser-fire. Spock has just begun the transporting sequence when he hears someone shouting his name. The voice echoes out from a warehouse across the lot they are standing in the center of. Spock can see a flash of gold beyond the flames that eat at the front of the building.
"Captain," Spock calls, and Jim turns just in time to see his First Officer and the group of survivors disappear. As soon as they land -- roughly and really only a few miles away from the compound -- Spock tries to reverse the process. The device is dead, though, its power drained, its circuits fried. Spock stares at it, the panic and pain and exhaustion from the last fourteen days culminating in the ringing in his ears, the moisture at his eyes. He tries to stand, he falls. He attempts to crawl, the sight of a burning building collapsing around his commanding officer driving him through the impossible pain.
The fire burns in the distance, its black clouds billowing up to blot the sky and block the suns.
- - -
Jim stares out onto the lot despite the debris falling around him. The ceiling won't hold up much longer, and Spock is gone. Safe. Whatever. The point is, he's probably about to die in this freakishly efficient fire and it won't even be to save Spock's life. He takes the time to feel a little bit foolish for that speech about 'no man left behind' and all that crap. Who's the ass left behind now?
Meanwhile, the building is falling apart, the smoke is taking its toll and holy fuck, why is there only one exit in this fucking warehouse? Well, at least Bones knows about the stash of porn padds locked in his desk. Hopefully he'll remove them before Starfleet cleans out his cabin. Because it's not like he has any of those hard-core fetishes, he just has a thing for the people who do. Is there a word for that? Someone whose fetish is other people's fetishes?
Jim knows the lack of oxygen is probably the reason for this strange train of thought, but the idea of Starfleet even getting a glance at his porn stash is kind of giving him a panic attack. Fuck dying uselessly in a fire, he doesn't need 'seriously deranged sexual deviant' tacked onto his permanent record. He leans pathetically against the wall and something metallic clangs against the sheeting. His phaser. Right.
- - -
The fifteenth landing party in as many days touches down about 50 meters from the drop point of the infiltrating signal. Phaser drawn, Nyota walks in front of Leonard whose arms are full of medical supplies, just in case.
Spock's not among the battered, unconscious people they find nearby, but soon enough Sulu calls out, "He's here!" and Nyota takes off after the doctor.
"Spock?" She gathers is head into her lap once they've turned him over. There's dried blood and bruising everywhere Nyota looks, but she can't do anything until Leonard finishes scanning.
"Well he's better off than the others, but we need to get him to sickbay."
He pulls out a hypo and Nyota hears herself demand "What is that?" before she can think better of it.
"We need to wake him up."
"No, if he's gone into a healing trance that could do more damage." Her hand shifts to cup Spock's neck, subtly blocking the doctor's target area.
"We need to know where Jim is." He yanks up Spock's sleeve and jabs his forearm. Nyota winces for him.
"Leonard-"
"He can handle it. If Jim's been captured in his place, we need to know where."
They both look down when Spock shifts. His eyes blink open slowly, like he's been drugged.
"Spock?" Nyota asks gently, letting him come-to on his own. Leonard has no such compunctions. He grabs Spock's shoulders and shakes a little when he asks where the captain is.
"Fire," Spock whispers.
Leonard's head shoots up and Nyota turns to follow his gaze. The smoke clouds are unmistakable. Her communicator is out and open in a matter of seconds.
"Uhura to transport room, 18 to beam up; please begin with this transmission plus two.
There's a medical team waiting when they arrive and they whisk Spock away after only a few terse instructions from Leonard.
"Scotty," she says, wishing she could follow to sickbay, "once you've beamed everyone up, the landing party needs to go back down a few miles north. There's a burning compound and we think the captain is there."
Scotty nods, already bringing up the second batch of survivors.
"You need to stay here," Nyota says when she sees Leonard handing out his instruments, save for a silver emergency kit.
"No, Jim could be really hurt," he answers, not bothering to look up from a quick scan.
"Or he could be fine, but these people here definitely are hurt. They need a doctor."
"Spock's going to be fine-" he stops when she grabs the kit from his hand.
"Mr. Scott will be on standby as soon as we locate the Captain. We will take him straight to the medical bay whether he needs it or not. But Leonard, these people need your help."
"Ready when you are," Scotty calls. The rest of the landing party is taking their places so Nyota gives Leonard once last look before climbing the steps. He looks vaguely murderous, but he's not coming after them. They'll probably have to talk later. She nods to Scotty and hopes that later will get here soon enough.
- - -
Jim wakes up groaning because everything hurts and something smells horrific.
"Welcome back," Bones says, but Jim can hear the underlying tension that tells him it was probably a close one. Or that he was snoring.
"Was I snoring?" Jim manages to rasp.
Bones shoots him a look and continues writing onto a padd. "Try not to talk."
Jim rolls his eyes, even though they sting like all hell. A quick glance to his left confirms that he doesn't have to ask if Spock's okay. The half-Vulcan is awake and pretending to pay them no attention. Which is fine with Jim. He'd rather not talk about what happened either.
"So what happened?" Bones asks. Jim gestures in a way that clearly says, 'you told me not to talk' and now it's Bone's turn to roll his eyes. But it's better than the don't-scare-me-like-that looks, so Jim lets it go with a smile and closes his eyes.
When he wakes again, Bones is gone. He's tempted to press the button that will have the good doctor running to his side, but he's probably just asleep at his desk anyway which wouldn't entail so much running as poking his head around a corner.
The lights are dimmed signaling ship's night, but Jim is wide awake. He glances over at Spock, but the half-Vulcan is still like the dead. Which is actually really unpleasant. Jim considers 'pst'ing at him until he at least stirs a bit, though really, if he focuses very closely he can see Spock's chest rise and fall with each breath. It makes his head hurt, but after awhile he's stared long enough to be able to match their breaths. It's difficult and he can't keep it up for long but it lulls him back to sleep and that's all that counts right now.
The next time Jim wakes it is to the sight of Spock staring at him. It's kind of creepy and makes Jim feel a little self-conscious. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and tries to smile.
"Good morning."
Spock does not return the sentiment, but he doesn't correct Jim either which means it really is morning or he's just angry enough to be giving Jim the silent treatment.
"What did I do?" Jim asks, just to get it over with. Because even if Spock's not mad, willingly giving him the opportunity to bitch about something might make him a little happier.
Spock's response is one calculated eyebrow-raise and Jim knows he is in trouble. "You willingly and unnecessarily placed your own life in danger to attempt to rescue me," Spock says, like it's a bad thing.
"Sorry?" Jim says because he knows 'you're welcome' will just piss Spock off even more.
"While immensely unpleasant, the situation was not completely out of my control. You should not have risked your own life needlessly."
"How the hell was I supposed to know that?" Jim's glad his throat hurts so damn much that he can't raise it very loudly. He'd rather not bring Bones into this as well. "I thought you'd be grateful."
"It would be illogical for me to condone your actions," Spock says and what pisses Jim off is that he's completely serious. Jim snaps.
"Okay, I get it; next time you're captured by hostiles and I have no idea if you're injured or even alive I'll just assume you have everything under control and not worry. Fuck solidarity or, god forbid, friendship! We'll all look out for ourselves and the next time I'm captured by raving, murderous lunatics I'll take comfort in the fact that you're not coming for me because it's not logical."
Spock stares at him in what might be the Vulcan equivalent of horror. Or maybe he just has to sneeze. Jim doesn't know and he's trying really hard not to care, but he's not very good at that anymore.
"Captain," Spock says, and then pauses. He starts again, softer this time, "Jim. I apologize. I did not mean to imply that I might view risking my own life for yours to be illogical. To the contrary, it is my duty. I merely request that you stop and think next time before hurrying to martyr yourself for others."
Jim studies the blanket that is draped across his legs and smiles gently. "I only get to be a martyr when you're not around to tell me I'm being illogical."
"Then I will endeavor to ensure you are never placed in that situation again," Spock says. The sudden sensation in Jim's chest is almost painful.
"We'll see," is all he can think to say as he settles back against the bed.
The silence stretches for several minutes until Jim says, "Too bad we can't leave to get the chess board."
Spock sits up and swings his legs over the side of the biobed. "I will retrieve it." At Jim's incredulous look he adds, "Doctor McCoy cleared me to leave several hours ago."
Jim watches his First Officer leave, a slight limp to his step, and tries not to over-analyze. The sensation in his chest worsens anyway and Jim settles back again, smiling softly at nothing and everything.
Chapter 3
Pairing: Pre-K/S
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed herein, nor am I making any money from this work of fiction.
Summary: Jim learns that he can't always be the hero, but it's never a bad thing to try.
The fire is not imperative. The fire is revenge and Spock is exhausted and starving enough to acknowledge the lack of logic involved. He starts it anyway.
The fire is for abducting him from the landing party, torturing him for the sake of entertainment, forcing him to live and scrounge like an animal. This rebel faction of Omega Tau 6 has known madness on the fringes of the continent. He has seen them murder children for crying and rape mothers for the same. Spock has remained alive because they do not notice him when he is not entertaining them with torture-induced displays of resilience. So he lived and he scrounged, and while he may not have eaten for close to two weeks, he has pieced together a device able to broadcast a signal to the Enterprise. It will not beam him aboard the ship, but it will harness the ship's transporting capabilities enough to 'port the small group of survivors closer to a large city, perhaps even the capital.
The fire lights the faces of a dozen women and men, frail but resolute as they watch the compound burn from a distance. The screams of men, too far from sanity to find a way out, block what Spock will later learn were the sounds of phaser-fire. Spock has just begun the transporting sequence when he hears someone shouting his name. The voice echoes out from a warehouse across the lot they are standing in the center of. Spock can see a flash of gold beyond the flames that eat at the front of the building.
"Captain," Spock calls, and Jim turns just in time to see his First Officer and the group of survivors disappear. As soon as they land -- roughly and really only a few miles away from the compound -- Spock tries to reverse the process. The device is dead, though, its power drained, its circuits fried. Spock stares at it, the panic and pain and exhaustion from the last fourteen days culminating in the ringing in his ears, the moisture at his eyes. He tries to stand, he falls. He attempts to crawl, the sight of a burning building collapsing around his commanding officer driving him through the impossible pain.
The fire burns in the distance, its black clouds billowing up to blot the sky and block the suns.
- - -
Jim stares out onto the lot despite the debris falling around him. The ceiling won't hold up much longer, and Spock is gone. Safe. Whatever. The point is, he's probably about to die in this freakishly efficient fire and it won't even be to save Spock's life. He takes the time to feel a little bit foolish for that speech about 'no man left behind' and all that crap. Who's the ass left behind now?
Meanwhile, the building is falling apart, the smoke is taking its toll and holy fuck, why is there only one exit in this fucking warehouse? Well, at least Bones knows about the stash of porn padds locked in his desk. Hopefully he'll remove them before Starfleet cleans out his cabin. Because it's not like he has any of those hard-core fetishes, he just has a thing for the people who do. Is there a word for that? Someone whose fetish is other people's fetishes?
Jim knows the lack of oxygen is probably the reason for this strange train of thought, but the idea of Starfleet even getting a glance at his porn stash is kind of giving him a panic attack. Fuck dying uselessly in a fire, he doesn't need 'seriously deranged sexual deviant' tacked onto his permanent record. He leans pathetically against the wall and something metallic clangs against the sheeting. His phaser. Right.
- - -
The fifteenth landing party in as many days touches down about 50 meters from the drop point of the infiltrating signal. Phaser drawn, Nyota walks in front of Leonard whose arms are full of medical supplies, just in case.
Spock's not among the battered, unconscious people they find nearby, but soon enough Sulu calls out, "He's here!" and Nyota takes off after the doctor.
"Spock?" She gathers is head into her lap once they've turned him over. There's dried blood and bruising everywhere Nyota looks, but she can't do anything until Leonard finishes scanning.
"Well he's better off than the others, but we need to get him to sickbay."
He pulls out a hypo and Nyota hears herself demand "What is that?" before she can think better of it.
"We need to wake him up."
"No, if he's gone into a healing trance that could do more damage." Her hand shifts to cup Spock's neck, subtly blocking the doctor's target area.
"We need to know where Jim is." He yanks up Spock's sleeve and jabs his forearm. Nyota winces for him.
"Leonard-"
"He can handle it. If Jim's been captured in his place, we need to know where."
They both look down when Spock shifts. His eyes blink open slowly, like he's been drugged.
"Spock?" Nyota asks gently, letting him come-to on his own. Leonard has no such compunctions. He grabs Spock's shoulders and shakes a little when he asks where the captain is.
"Fire," Spock whispers.
Leonard's head shoots up and Nyota turns to follow his gaze. The smoke clouds are unmistakable. Her communicator is out and open in a matter of seconds.
"Uhura to transport room, 18 to beam up; please begin with this transmission plus two.
There's a medical team waiting when they arrive and they whisk Spock away after only a few terse instructions from Leonard.
"Scotty," she says, wishing she could follow to sickbay, "once you've beamed everyone up, the landing party needs to go back down a few miles north. There's a burning compound and we think the captain is there."
Scotty nods, already bringing up the second batch of survivors.
"You need to stay here," Nyota says when she sees Leonard handing out his instruments, save for a silver emergency kit.
"No, Jim could be really hurt," he answers, not bothering to look up from a quick scan.
"Or he could be fine, but these people here definitely are hurt. They need a doctor."
"Spock's going to be fine-" he stops when she grabs the kit from his hand.
"Mr. Scott will be on standby as soon as we locate the Captain. We will take him straight to the medical bay whether he needs it or not. But Leonard, these people need your help."
"Ready when you are," Scotty calls. The rest of the landing party is taking their places so Nyota gives Leonard once last look before climbing the steps. He looks vaguely murderous, but he's not coming after them. They'll probably have to talk later. She nods to Scotty and hopes that later will get here soon enough.
- - -
Jim wakes up groaning because everything hurts and something smells horrific.
"Welcome back," Bones says, but Jim can hear the underlying tension that tells him it was probably a close one. Or that he was snoring.
"Was I snoring?" Jim manages to rasp.
Bones shoots him a look and continues writing onto a padd. "Try not to talk."
Jim rolls his eyes, even though they sting like all hell. A quick glance to his left confirms that he doesn't have to ask if Spock's okay. The half-Vulcan is awake and pretending to pay them no attention. Which is fine with Jim. He'd rather not talk about what happened either.
"So what happened?" Bones asks. Jim gestures in a way that clearly says, 'you told me not to talk' and now it's Bone's turn to roll his eyes. But it's better than the don't-scare-me-like-that looks, so Jim lets it go with a smile and closes his eyes.
When he wakes again, Bones is gone. He's tempted to press the button that will have the good doctor running to his side, but he's probably just asleep at his desk anyway which wouldn't entail so much running as poking his head around a corner.
The lights are dimmed signaling ship's night, but Jim is wide awake. He glances over at Spock, but the half-Vulcan is still like the dead. Which is actually really unpleasant. Jim considers 'pst'ing at him until he at least stirs a bit, though really, if he focuses very closely he can see Spock's chest rise and fall with each breath. It makes his head hurt, but after awhile he's stared long enough to be able to match their breaths. It's difficult and he can't keep it up for long but it lulls him back to sleep and that's all that counts right now.
The next time Jim wakes it is to the sight of Spock staring at him. It's kind of creepy and makes Jim feel a little self-conscious. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and tries to smile.
"Good morning."
Spock does not return the sentiment, but he doesn't correct Jim either which means it really is morning or he's just angry enough to be giving Jim the silent treatment.
"What did I do?" Jim asks, just to get it over with. Because even if Spock's not mad, willingly giving him the opportunity to bitch about something might make him a little happier.
Spock's response is one calculated eyebrow-raise and Jim knows he is in trouble. "You willingly and unnecessarily placed your own life in danger to attempt to rescue me," Spock says, like it's a bad thing.
"Sorry?" Jim says because he knows 'you're welcome' will just piss Spock off even more.
"While immensely unpleasant, the situation was not completely out of my control. You should not have risked your own life needlessly."
"How the hell was I supposed to know that?" Jim's glad his throat hurts so damn much that he can't raise it very loudly. He'd rather not bring Bones into this as well. "I thought you'd be grateful."
"It would be illogical for me to condone your actions," Spock says and what pisses Jim off is that he's completely serious. Jim snaps.
"Okay, I get it; next time you're captured by hostiles and I have no idea if you're injured or even alive I'll just assume you have everything under control and not worry. Fuck solidarity or, god forbid, friendship! We'll all look out for ourselves and the next time I'm captured by raving, murderous lunatics I'll take comfort in the fact that you're not coming for me because it's not logical."
Spock stares at him in what might be the Vulcan equivalent of horror. Or maybe he just has to sneeze. Jim doesn't know and he's trying really hard not to care, but he's not very good at that anymore.
"Captain," Spock says, and then pauses. He starts again, softer this time, "Jim. I apologize. I did not mean to imply that I might view risking my own life for yours to be illogical. To the contrary, it is my duty. I merely request that you stop and think next time before hurrying to martyr yourself for others."
Jim studies the blanket that is draped across his legs and smiles gently. "I only get to be a martyr when you're not around to tell me I'm being illogical."
"Then I will endeavor to ensure you are never placed in that situation again," Spock says. The sudden sensation in Jim's chest is almost painful.
"We'll see," is all he can think to say as he settles back against the bed.
The silence stretches for several minutes until Jim says, "Too bad we can't leave to get the chess board."
Spock sits up and swings his legs over the side of the biobed. "I will retrieve it." At Jim's incredulous look he adds, "Doctor McCoy cleared me to leave several hours ago."
Jim watches his First Officer leave, a slight limp to his step, and tries not to over-analyze. The sensation in his chest worsens anyway and Jim settles back again, smiling softly at nothing and everything.
Chapter 3