Star Trek Fic: Time Apart
Title: Time Apart
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor spoilers for the movie, mild spoilers for the rest of the Timeverse, heavy spoilers for the TOS episode "Paradise Syndrome"
Series: Part of the Timeverse, taking place some time after Our Yesterdays And Tomorrows
Summary: A Timeverse re-telling of the episode "Paradise Syndrome"
Notes/Apology: Several years ago, someone posted on the kirkspock livejournal that she was being separated from her sister. Apparently they were/are quite close, and she was sad that her sister was going away for a while. As a favor from the community, she asked if someone could write her a story about Kirk and Spock being separated and dealing with that separation, to help her cope with her own situation. As I was just starting a re-telling fic about "Paradise Syndrome," I agreed. ...Around two years later, I finally finished the story. Aherm. So, to whoever you are, if you're still out there, I'm sorry this took so long. I hope your sister is back now, and that you'll enjoy this fic! I'm sorry it didn't get to you sooner.
When you were psychically linked to someone, arguments functioned differently. For one thing, there was no such thing as the silent treatment. Whether he wanted to be or not, Kirk was always aware of Spock's thoughts and emotions, even more so when Spock was angry with him. So although Spock was refusing to speak with him at the moment, it wasn't actually doing much to diminish their communication.
Not that Kirk really wanted to speak with Spock either at this point. If anything, he was the one who should be angry. He hadn't done anything wrong - it had just been a little harmless flirting. Not like he'd planned on doing anything about it. If Spock weren't so fucking jealous all the time, it would've been just another routine diplomatic mission and nothing would have come of it.
Kirk glared at his plate of food, knowing Spock could feel the expression and was making it right back at him - at least mentally. He heard a snort nearby and looked up to see McCoy sliding into the seat across the table from him. The doctor looked exasperated.
"Are you two STILL fighting?" McCoy groused. "It's been a week already. Just kiss and make up and get it overwith."
"I'M not the one who's angry," Kirk retorted, even though he sort of was. "I'M not the one who got irrationally jealous about a little harmless flirting with the ambassador. So she had nice tits! Big deal! It's not like he needs to get all upset about it!"
McCoy raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing. He continued to stare at Jim even as he began to eat.
Kirk sighed and lowered his head into his hands. "I just miss women sometimes, okay? There's nothing wrong with that. I just... I miss how soft they are, sometimes. I miss the game. It's not like I was actually gonna do anything with her."
"Well, tell him that," said McCoy, sounding unimpressed.
"He knows!" Kirk exploded. "He knows damn well how I feel! He has a fucking psychic bridge into my head! He can't possibly claim that he didn't know!"
McCoy held up a hand defensively. "Look, all I'm saying is that it's not good for crew morale to have the captain and first officer not on speaking terms. Just throwing that out there."
"He's the one who turned it into a diplomatic incident. I'm not apologizing to him when he's the one who gave her the Tellurite half-bread he KNEW she was allergic to. He should be grateful I'm not bringing him up on charges!"
"It wasn't that bad," said McCoy. "I got the swelling down quickly enough that she wasn't in any real danger, and the hives will go away before the conference starts."
"That doesn't make it better," said Kirk, glaring.
"Well, either way, you're gonna have to get your shit together soon. We're gonna have to beam down on the next mission, and unless you want to actually follow protocol for once and send him down to the surface without you, you're going to have to at least agree to be tolerable to each other for a few hours."
Kirk huffed, but didn't say anything. McCoy knew damn well that he'd never let Spock go into unknown territory alone, no matter how angry he was.
The planet was astonishingly peaceful, and even more astonishingly earth-like. The plants, animals, geology - everything was startling in its familiarity. Kirk had the strangest sense of being on earth again - even the smell was similar to home, a temperate forest landscape, the likes of which he'd seen dozens of times.
The inhabitants, too, were strange. They were clearly human, but of a culture that had been more or less extinct on earth for hundreds of years. Native North American in behavior, although a mix of a number of different tribes that would never have been found together, historically.
As Spock took readings of the people and their behavior, Kirk wandered back to the strange obelisk that they'd discovered upon landing. It was a strange, geometric shape, perhaps meant to be a flame of some kind, made of some unknown metallic green stone. Far too advanced in nature to have been made by the primitive culture they'd discovered inhabiting the planet's surface. All across the face of the monument were strange raised symbols that their computers had been unable to translate - not any written language that they recognized.
Kirk trailed his hand over the surface, wondering at the strange carvings. Sometimes he envied the peaceful nature of places like this. These people knew nothing of the giant asteroid about to hit their planet unless the Enterprise could stop it. They lived, they loved, they went about their simple little existances, and were never troubled by the galaxy-worth of problems that plagued a starship.
But of course, Kirk thought ruefully, smiling, he was idealizing these people, no doubt. Of course they probably still had to deal with jealousy, with strangers, with stubborn lovers and with pride getting in the way of being the first to apologize. Just because this land felt peaceful and idyllic didn't mean there wasn't an asteroid about to crash down on their heads and destroy their existance. The fact that they didn't know about it only made them more vulnerable to the danger.
Kirk sighed and extended his mind tentatively to sense his bondmate's thoughts. Spock's mind was still rigid with anger at him, and that raised Kirk's hackles in return. Well, screw him. If he was going to be angry and jealous, let him be angry and jealous. He was only hurting himself.
Kirk leaned one arm against the obelisk and flipped open his communicator to call Scotty.
Spock knew immediately that something was wrong. Although he'd been doing his best to ignore Kirk's thoughts and place a mental wall between them, the feeling of his bondmate's mind suddenly dropping away was difficult to miss. Spock's body went rigid, and McCoy, standing next to him, looked up in alarm.
"What? What is it?"
"The captain. Something's happened."
They needed little other communication. Wordlessly, they sprinted back in the direction Kirk had gone. He hadn't been far - he'd only gone back to inspect the strange monument they'd found on their arrival. But when they returned to it, Kirk was nowhere to be found. They searched, they called, eventually McCoy began to swear fit to bring down the wrath of god, but there was no sign of him. Their simple search became search parties, became sensor probes, but still there was no sign of him.
Spock concentrated on the bond, a failsafe which had gotten Kirk out of many a scrape in the past, but felt nothing. Kirk's mind was gone. But it was not as though he were dead - that, at least, was one comfort Spock could take - he would certainly be able to tell if Kirk had died. Instead, Kirk's end of the bond was... fuzzy. As though it were a tether that disappeared into a thick, impenetrable fog. The line would have severed altogether if Kirk died. But it was still there, taut, just... unseeable. Unknowable. Spock didn't know what to make of it.
But he did know what to make of the giant asteroid hurtling towards the planet. They had to get back to the ship and intercept it. They'd already wasted more time than was reasonable, even for such a valuable crewmember as Captain Kirk. The first order of business was to find the asteroid and divert it. Then, when the danger had passed, they could return and continue searching for the captain. If they continued to search now they would miss their window of opportunity to redirect the asteroid, and they would have failed the mission. Regardless of whether they eventually found the captain, the planet would be destroyed.
Spock flipped open his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise. Prepare to beam us up Mr. Scott. We're warping out of orbit."
"Leaving?" asked McCoy incredulously. "You can't be serious, Spock!"
Spock did his best to explain the situation to McCoy without sounding overly condescending - it was simple logic. He knew the doctor would not be happy with it regardless. If he were entirely honest with himself, Spock was not thrilled with the idea either. But he had to take the logical steps necessary to preserve as much life as possible, and to complete the mission if at all possible. The captain, no matter how beloved, was a secondary concern.
And he was still alive. That, above all else, Spock kept firmly in his mind. While Jim was alive, there was still hope. They would beam up, move the asteroid, and be back shortly. Then they would find the captain, bring him home, and all would be well. It had to be. It was the only logical course.
He woke with a headache, and no idea where he was. No idea WHO he was, he realized a moment later. He was... in a room. A strange room, with grey walls and strange inscriptions and lights everywhere. What was this place? What was going on?
He stumbled up a passage and a door slid open above his head, revealing sunlight. The world he emerged into was... peaceful. Quiet. That seemed strange somehow, or... nostalgic? Something. He paused, uncertain what to do with himself.
A woman. Two women. They approached the bottom of the strange rock dais he had emerged onto, and froze when they saw him. As he stared, they came forward and bowed low. He couldn't fathom why. Who did they think he was?
One woman was bold enough to approach him, although her demeanor was still worshipful. "Who... are you?" he asked.
"We are your people," she responded, her voice light and musical. "We've been waiting for you to come to us."
She led him to her village. He followed her - what other choice was there? Her name was Miramanee, she said. She was the daughter of the tribal chief. Clearly he was a god sent by the Wise Ones to help them, she said. Their village was in danger - the skies had been darkening and legend said that soon they would need a medicine chief who could enter the temple and call forth the blue flame, to save them all.
Miramanee introduced him to the village, and they, too, seemed to think he was a god. Was that true? It would explain many things. His mind was fogged, but he remembered coming from the sky, remebered others like him, but only vaguely...
"What do you wish to be called?" asked the chief.
But he couldn't remember. It was so difficult to think. He just wanted to sink into this place, and not think about his past. Not wonder who had been. Those thoughts... they seemed so difficult. He wanted them to leave him alone, the thoughts.
"Kur..." he tried. It had been something like that, hadn't it? Something with that sound?
"Kirok?" the chief finished. The chief seemed relieved, somehow. It seemed as good a name as any. He could be Kirok, then. Perhaps he was.
Kirok, then. If these people thought he was a god, who was he to contradict them? Especially when he didn't know himself.
The redirection of the asteroid went poorly. Spock cursed himself inwardly for not stepping down. He was too invested to make reasonable decisions. He had thought he was making a calculated risk, but he had been sloppy. He'd underestimated the firepower it would take to move the asteroid now that they'd let it get too close. He'd disregarded Officer Scott's warnings about the safety of the engine, and risked them in a gamble to draw enough power to split the asteroid in half. The gamble had failed, and now the warp drive was useless. He'd blown too much power trying to break the asteroid and now he'd not only failed at that, he'd crippled them. They were down to impulse power, able to move little faster than the asteroid itself as it hurtled towards the planet where even now, Jim was lost.
How could it have all gone so horribly wrong? What would Jim have done in his place? Surely the captain wouldn't have mangled the situation so badly.
When he'd last seen Jim, they'd been angry with each other. They hadn't been speaking.
Nevermind. He couldn't falter now. He couldn't let himself sink into despair. The captain needed him, so he needed to be calm and logical, and keep everything under control. He couldn't fall to pieces. He would not let Jim down.
But of course, Leonard McCoy would not make such a thing easy for him.
"Well Spock," said the doctor, and Spock could hear the ill-suppressed anger in the man's voice, "you took your 'calculated risk' in your calculated Vulcan way and you lost. You lost for us, you lost for that planet, and you lost for Jim."
"I accept the responsibility, Doctor," Spock gritted, reaching for his calm. After Jim, Doctor McCoy was second to none at getting under his skin.
"And my responsibility is the health of this crew!" McCoy retorted. "You've been driving yourself too hard and I want you to get some rest." Despite the apparent sympathy in the words, McCoy's tone made it clear that this was an order, given in anger and only because it was his duty. His tone made it clear that really, Spock could go to hell for all McCoy really cared.
Spock ignored him and turned on the comm to the bridge. "Mr. Chekov," he said, "resume heading mark 883-mark-41."
"Back to that planet without warp speed?" McCoy said incredulously. "It'll take months, Spock!"
"Exactly 59.223 days, Doctor," Spock intoned, still emotionless. "And that asteroid will be four hours behind us all the way." He turned his attention away from the doctor and concentrated instead on his monitor. Symbols swept across it - recordings he'd taken from the planet's surface of the face of the strange monument, and its equally strange carvings. It held the secret to Jim's disappearance, of that he was sure. Somewhere in those symbols was the key to finding him again. All he had to do was unlock it.
"Spock!" Suddenly, McCoy could not be ignored. He was next to Spock, shaking him by the shoulders. Spock looked up at the doctor, annoyed to be interrupted. Couldn't he see that this was important?
"Listen to me, Spock!" McCoy shouted. "I'm not sure you're making good decisions anymore. I have the authority to remove you from command. Don't think I won't use it! Do you even fucking care about finding Jim at all? Or did you just leave him down there because of that stupid grudge over a girl?"
Spock stood up so suddenly that his chair clattered behind him, tipping over. The doctor took a startled step backwards, but Spock did not menace him physically.
"I will find Jim," Spock promised. "I will save him, and I will save this ship. I remain fit for duty at this time. Anything else is none of your concern."
McCoy glared at him, looking too furious to speak. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut on whatever retort he had planned and spun on his heel, stalking out the door. Spock carefully righted his chair and placed it back in front of his monitor. He sat down and returned his gaze to the symbols on the obelisk.
Somewhere in those symbols was Jim. Spock would find him.
Kirok's world was a blissfully simple one. He had a beautiful woman, whom he loved and who loved him, he had the respect of his people, and he had the time and leisure to enjoy it. Everything would have been perfect, but for the dreams.
They came nearly every night, particularly at first. A ship, but a ship that was not a ship - more like a village, floating through the air. Men and women like ghosts that moved around on it, faceless in his mind, their names always one step beyond his grasp.
He came to a room in this place, although he was not certain why it was different than the others, except that it was home. It had a feeling of certainty, but it made him uneasy. He had a home, after all, and it was with Miramanee. This strange room, as faceless as the people on the craft, should not mean such things to him.
But even the dreams did not trouble him until they began to leak into his waking moments. It happened for the first time on the night of his wedding to Miramanee - tribal custom said that as medicine chief, he was betrothed to the priestess, the tribal chief's daughter. Miramanee was beautiful, and Kirok was eager to take her to bed. But what should have been simple and beautiful was anything but.
The fire of lust within Kirok was great enough that at first he did not notice the other fire burning inside him.
His hands brushed over the beautiful body of the woman beneath him, tracing her curves, reveling in the soft touch of her flesh on his fingertips. A strange, heated buzzing began to well up behind his eyes, but he ignored it as a mere side-effect of the strength of his desire for his new wife.
She smiled at him and blushed for him, and he had the oddest feeling that he'd missed her, as though he'd been away from her for a long time and was only now coming back. She placed a tentative hand on his member and a shock of unease ran through Kirok. The buzzing behind his eyes grew louder, verging on painful. Still he ignored it.
The love of his woman blanketed him, spared him from the strange, painful heat. He was able to let himself sink into her embrace and muffle the approaching headache in it for some time.
But when he tried to enter her, there was no escape - suddenly the pain flared in his head, full of fire and rage so poignant it took Kirok's breath away. He doubled over, clutching at his temples, as the anger swept uncontrollably through him.
As the ringing faded from his ears and the red from his vision, Kirok found himself kneeling, breath coming in heavy gasps, hands grabbing his head as though trying to prevent it from exploding. Miramanee was crouched next to him, her hands fluttering over him uncertainly, words of comfort and worried questions on her lips.
"The fire-" Kirok gasped out. "It hurts. It hurts so much. He's so angry."
"He?" Miramanee asked, but Kirok had no answer to her question. He hadn't meant to say that. He didn't know who he was talking about, or if he was even talking about a person at all. But he had felt the anger as sure as day, and it was not his own, so presumably it must belong to someone?
"I- I'm sorry," Kirok mumbled. "It feels like someone's... watching me, perhaps. I don't understand. But the anger, and the fire..."
"Fire?" asked Miramanee. "Perhaps it is Pyrok?"
Kirok looked up at her, confused. "Who is Pyrok?"
She smiled somewhat wanly at him. It was clear she was still distressed by his behavior, but attempting to be brave and humoring him. "Surely the gods know everything? Have you forgotten your own brother?"
Kirok frowned. "Brother?" That seemed... familiar...
"Kirok and Pyrok are brothers," Miramanee explained. "Pyrok is of fire, and Kirok is of the sun, but Pyrok is often jealous of Kirok because Kirok's fire is gentle and restrained, but all-powerful, while Pyrok's is a pale imitation that rages unchecked, yet can barely push back the night."
Brothers. Brothers of fire. Yes, that seemed correct. Pyrok, brother of fire. Kirok found himself nodding. It seemed to make sense, in a dim sort of way. "You think his jealousy is keeping me from you?" Kirok asked.
"It is the only explanation I can see."
Kirok smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, Miramanee. This is not how I planned for our wedding night to go."
"It is alright." She patted the warm furs next to her. "Why don't you come here and simply lie with me? We will sleep - Pyrok cannot steal our love for each other, or the warmth of our bodies."
Kirok lay next to her gratefully, tugging her close to him. He drifted off still trying to pull the mantle of peace back around his mind.
"Spock?" The voice at his door was tentative. Spock looked up. Nyota. He glanced at her in acknowledgement but did not respond, his concentration still fixed on his symbols.
"McCoy says you haven't eaten or slept in weeks. He wanted me to talk to you. He's sorry he yelled at you before. He regrets it. We all know this wasn't your fault. You made the best decision you could at the time. The captain would have done the same."
Spock shook his head, though his eyes never left the screen. "As I told the doctor, in times of need, Vulcans are capable of going for long periods without rest or nourishment. I'm fine."
"You're not going to be able to help Jim if you kill yourself out of guilt."
Uhura, as usual, cut right to the heart of the matter. Spock did not like to admit even to himself how uncomfortably close to the truth she had hit.
"I am responsible for leaving the captain behind. I am therefore also responsible for finding and returning him to the ship."
Nyota grabbed a second chair from by the wall and slid it up to the desk, sitting down next to Spock so they were at eye level. "Spock, you need to rest."
He didn't know how to explain it to her. If he told her that he couldn't, that the bed in their room smelled wrong now that Jim's scent had faded from it, that laying down on it alone and empty would only agitate him further and in no way encourage sleep - if he told her these things, she would think he was being sentimental. But it was not sentiment, it was logic. These were facts. It was a fact that his resting would not bring the captain back any faster. Resting might bring up memories, the faint echo of a sensation long-forgotten, the lustful excitement of Jim in coitus, but without him, away from him, shrouded and hidden away from his sight. He'd felt it several times already now, and each time the flare of anger and jealousy became more and more difficult to control. No. Rest was not what he needed.
Uhura sighed, exasperated, and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Then at least let me help." She reached over and tilted the monitor towards herself. "It'll go faster with the two of us working on it. What have you found out so far?"
Spock looked over at her finally, surprised. It was moments like these that made him remember why he had once thought he could love this woman.
Spock turned his attention back to the monitor, and began to outline his conclusions.
Miramanee stood on the edge of the lake, looking wistfully out over its surface. Kirok approached from behind her and wound his arms around her waist, sighing happily. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she raised a hand to pet his hair softly. It was a moment of blissful contentment for Kirok, in a way he could not put into words.
"What's troubling you, my love?" he asked her. "You seem pensive."
She turned her head and smiled at him, leaning forward to give him a small kiss. "It's nothing terrible, husband. I was only musing on the talk of the midwives."
"The midwives?"
"They are beginning to wonder why I am not yet with child."
Kirok felt a pang of guilt. It was the only black mark on his otherwise perfect happiness - he still could not bed Miramanee. The dreams were strong now; he couldn't bring himself to tell her that lately they'd been getting stronger and stronger.
And more confusing. In his dreams, Kirok paced the halls of the strange sky-village, moving again towards the room that was home but not home. But when he reached it, someone was there - someone he did not recognize. A man, but not a man - a stranger with pointed ears and the scent of the desert. He stood in the center of the room and when he turned to face Kirok, his cheeks were streaked with tears.
"Why, Jim?" his voice was rough and unhappy. "Am I not enough for you? I have been loyal. I have given you everything that I can. Is it still not enough? Have I done wrong to you?"
He did not know this stranger, did not know who the stranger was speaking to, but nevertheless the tears wracked him with guilt. They seemed so strange, so out of place. Kirok felt that they were his fault, but he did not know why. He could not deal with such unfathomable sadness.
"Miramanee," Kirok asked her, following his thoughts and changing the subject, "is there a god who is known to be unhappy? Pyrok, perhaps? Someone known for sadness?"
Miramanee gave him the strange but indulgent look she always gave him when he asked about the gods. "No, not that I know of. Pyrok is known for his anger and for his subtle trickery. Not for sadness."
"Hmm." Kirok tried to banish the dreams from his mind. He had Miramanee. He was happy. She was happy, most of the time. They would be alright. He wouldn't worry any more about the sky-village or any vengeful gods that might be watching him.
Spock sat in a corner of the room near the bed, idly plucking the strings of his lute, half-submerged in a meditative trance that he hoped would restore enough of his strength that he could still be useful in a fight on the planet's surface if necessary.
McCoy entered, as he often did, without waiting for Spock's permission. "I prescribed sleep," he groused.
"You prescribed rest, Doctor" said Spock calmly. He allowed his contentment to ease through faintly into him - there was no shame in satisfaction in a job well done. With Uhura's help, he'd finally been able to make headway in the symbol analysis.
"The symbols on the obelisk are not words," Spock said, before McCoy could launch into a tirade on the semantic difference between sleep and rest. "They are musical notes."
"Musical notes... you mean it's nothing but a song?" McCoy was interested enough in Spock's findings to be momentarily distracted from the topic of Spock's health.
"In a way, yes. Other cultures, among them certain Vulcan offshoots, use musical notes as words. The tones correspond roughly to an alphabet. I was lucky Lieutenant Uhura is almost as well-versed in musical theory as she is in linguistics. We were finally able to grasp the underlying nature of the puzzle."
"Were you able to make any sense of the symbols?"
"Yes." Spock put down the lute and stood, his energy returning with the satisfaction of having solved such a difficult problem. "The obelisk is a marker, just as I thought." He began to pace the room, working feeling back into legs that were tired from long periods of sitting in front of his computer. "It was left by a super-race known as 'The Preservers.' They passed through the galaxy rescuing primitive cultures that were in danger of extinction and 'seeding' them, so to speak, where they could live and grow."
"I've always wondered why there were so many humanoids scattered throughout the galaxy," McCoy mused.
"So have I. Apparently, the Presevers account for a number of them."
McCoy was apparently catching on quickly, just as Spock had when he had realized the implications. "That's probably how the planet has survived all these centuries." This was not the first asteroid that had threatened the destruction of this planet. In such a volatile region of space, it couldn't be. "The Preservers put an asteroid deflector on the planet!"
"Which has now become defective and is failing to operate," Spock finished, echoing his own earlier conclusions.
"Then we have to find that deflector and put it back into working order. Otherwise..." he trailed off, realizing the implications.
"Precisely, Doctor." And there was only one place it could possibly be. The obelisk was the only sign of their race the Presevers had left on the planet. It had to be there for a reason. They could find it, repair it, deflect the asteroid and, if they were lucky, locate the captain at the same time.
If Spock knew Jim, he wouldn't be far from the one piece of advanced technology on the planet. No matter what had happened to him, his curiosity was a defining part of Jim's being. The captain wouldn't have gone far from such a puzzle. He and Spock were remarkably alike in that way.
They would find him, and soon. They were coming for him, and soon enough they would have Jim back.
The sky was darkening. Miramanee had warned him of this. It meant destruction was coming, and it was the duty of the medicine chief to enter the temple and bring forth the blue flame.
The only problem was, though he'd come from the temple, Kirok had no idea how to get back in. He'd spent hours examining the strange stone obelisk, but try though he might he could not read the writing on the surface. He couldn't find any sort of catch or other mechanism to allow him access. It was, as far as he could tell, a solid stone slab and nothing more.
But the villagers would not accept that. He could see the fear mounting in their eyes as he tried and tried to open the temple. Fear that quickly turned to anger, and anger that quickly turned to violence.
Kirok flinched as the first stone hit him. They'd kill him. They'd stone him to death for being a false god, just to make themselves feel a little bit better before the end came and took them all. Well, so be it. If that was all that he could do for them, then it was no more than he deserved.
"Kirok!"
Kirok's eyes widened as Miramanee burst forward from the crowd, running into his arms. "No!" he protested. "They'll kill you!" But it was too late. The rocks were falling on them both, and he saw her stumble as one collided with her side. Kirok jumped forward to meet her, trying to shield her with his own body, but already she was slumping down to the ground, eyes fluttering closed. Then another stone hit Kirok in the back of the head, and he too succumbed to darkness.
When Spock and McCoy materialized on the planet's surface, they were just in time to catch a group of villagers stoning the captain and a strange woman in front of the obelisk. They dashed forward and the villagers scattered at the strangers' presence.
Spock wasted neither time nor thought for them, but dashed instead to the captain's side. He was still breathing - good. And not only breathing - mumbling. "My wife, is she alright?"
Spock frowned. Wife?
"Miramanee!" Kirk called again.
McCoy frowned over at him. "Hallucinations?" he wondered aloud.
After so long, Spock wanted nothing more than to slip into the mind of his bonded, to find the source of the strange fog and these unwelcome thoughts and banish it, but mind melds were not something to be lightly undertaken. He turned instead to McCoy, who was busy examining the strange woman.
"Is he strong enough for a meld?" he snapped curtly.
McCoy opened his communicator and said in short, clipped tones, "I need Chapel down here with an emergency surgical kit," before stepping over to Kirk to examine him. After a few moments scanning him, he nodded. "Bring him back to us, if you can. We've gotta get inside that obelisk. I could heal him from out here, but it would take too long. You know his mind better than anyone. Me and Chapel will see to the girl."
Spock needed no more encouragement. He lay his fingers against the meld points on the captain's face and slid effortlessly down into the mists of Kirk's mind.
Kirok stood in the center of the lodge, the wind howling in anger all around him. The wooden structure shook precariously - it was not safe here.
He ran for the door, but when he pushed away the furs that hung across the entrance he saw not the dirt path and tall trees of his own village but the crisp grey and white lines of the sky-village. It was the room - that strange room that urged him to think of it as home, and the weeping stranger, standing in the center. But he was not weeping now. He caught sight of Kirok and stepped towards him.
"Jim!" he exclaimed happily.
Kirok took a step backwards, letting the furs fall back over the entrance. This couldn't be happening. It was some sort of dream. What was going on?
The furs moved, and moments later the stranger stepped into the room. This had never happened before. Always he had encountered the stranger in the sky-village. Never on Kirok's own ground. Kirok backed up another step.
"Jim?" asked the stranger, suddenly uncertain.
"Who are you?!" Kirok yelled. "I am Kirok! You will leave this premises immediately!"
"Jim, I am Spock. I am your bonded. You do not...? You must remember me, Jim. You must try to remember."
"No!" Where was Miramanee? She was in danger. He had to help her. "Get away from me! I won't hurt you unless I have to."
"Just come into this room with me, Jim," the stranger - Spock - gestured back towards the white room. "Come with me, and you'll remember everything."
"I will not!" Kirok was losing patience with this stranger. "Leave now, or I will attack."
"Jim-"
Kirok lunged forward, slamming his fist into his opponent's gut. The stranger staggered backward, a look of intense surprise on his face. "I am Kirok!" Kirok screamed, tumbling forward and swinging wildly.
Spock recovered quickly, and blocked Kirok's haphazard blows. His expression was one of anger now, and suddenly Kirok recognized this heat, this jealousy-red rage. This was the fire in his mind that had kept him from Miramanee. This was Pyrok, his brother who hated him and was jealous of all he had.
"Fight me, Pyrok!" Kirok challenged, continuing to rain blows on the now defensive Pyrok.
"I- I am not-" Pyrok tried, but Kirok did not allow him the leisure of speech. The fight became almost a dance, blows and parries that were strangely familiar. Kirok felt they'd fought this fight a thousand times. He knew exactly how Pyrok would move, and Pyrok seemed to know exactly what he intended as well. It was almost like a game, and the longer it drew on, the more frightened Kirok became of this knowledge.
"I'm sorry," Pyrok rasped, "but we do not have time for this!"
Kirok opened his mouth to respond, but was shocked into silence by Pyrok running straight for him in a completely open bull-rush. It was so unexpected that Kirok took too long to put up a defense, and took the full brunt of the attack to his torso, sliding back as the stranger hit him and continued onward.
Too late, Kirok realized what Pyrok was doing. He tried to dig in his heels to stop their rapid progress towards the door, but the result was only that both he and Pyrok went tumbling over backwards through it, the furs flying aside as they plunged into the white room.
Kirk looked up at the white walls of their room on the Enterprise, and looked over at Spock. The vulcan was panting and looking at him suspiciously. He looked tired, and betrayed. Kirk felt a pang of guilt before everything whited out, blinding in its brightness.
Kirk woke to see a rare expression of true surprise on Spock's face above him, before the vulcan schooled his features back into their customary calm. "He is an extremely dynamic individual," said Spock, apparently in response to something McCoy had said - the Doctor was kneeling to his left, Kirk realized.
"It worked," said Kirk, sitting up. His head was killing him, but that would have to wait for later. For now, they had a planet to save. He looked over and with a pang caught sight of Miramanee's still body. But they had no time for that now. He would worry about her later as well.
"Captain, were you inside this structure?" asked Spock tersely, standing.
Kirk struggled to his feet. Spock's grip was firm on his arm, helping him up. "Yes. What's inside is loaded with scientific equipment."
"This obelisk is one huge deflector mechanism," Spock informed him. Kirk's brain was already racing, slotting all the information he had into place. Of course. A planet this idyllic in a region of space this volatile. The one piece of advanced technology in the whole place? Of course it must be a deflector of some kind. The weather abnormality must mean the asteroid was almost here. And if Spock and McCoy were down on the planet with him, that must mean they'd failed to redirect it in time. Which meant the deflector was now their only hope.
"It is imperative that we get inside immediately," Spock confirmed, echoing his thoughts. And Spock could hear him. Of course Spock could hear him thinking. When had he lost that? HOW had he lost that? But no time for such thoughts. They needed to get in.
Music, said Spock's mind, and immediately Kirk understood the work that had gone on in the months he'd been trapped on the planet, the conclusions Spock and Uhura had come to on the symbols, and what they had to do now.
"I remember..." Kirk muttered, trying to replay in his mind what had happened just before he'd first fallen into the obelisk.
Kirk held out his hand Spock wordlessly placed his communicator into the captain's outstretched palm. Kirk flicked it open. "Kirk to Enterprise," he said, almost absently.
"Aye Captain?" came Scotty's heavily-accented response, just as it had months ago. And just as it had months ago, a panel at the base of the obelisk slid aside, revealing a passage down into the structure. Kirk and Spock rushed down inside.
"Scotty," Kirk called as moved down into the chamber, "if the deflector isn't activated within twenty minutes, get out of orbit. Get the Enterprise out of the danger zone. The landing party is expendable; the Enterprise isn't. Kirk out."
He spared a last look at Miramanee before they disappeared into the obelisk - but McCoy was taking care of her, and they had more important things to worry about right now.
The room below the monument was some kind of control center, with panels full of buttons, knobs, and flashing lights. Kirk was momentarily overwhelmed, but Spock's mind was confident in the research he'd done. As Kirk explored the nature of Spock's solution swimming between their minds, Spock moved over to a panel near the center and pressed a single button. The ground began to shake slightly. A display to one side indicated that a beam had been fired, and they heard McCoy and Chapel cheer from outside.
Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance. The connection between their minds felt raw, overflowing with information, but Kirk was not certain if it was changed or if it was only that he'd grown unused to feeling it for so long. Emotion was bleeding rampantly between them - fear, anger, guilt, joy, relief, jealousy - and it was nearly impossible to tell which of them was feeling what.
They made their way back out of the obelisk, and Kirk took several steps away from his first officer, trying to get enough distance to sort out his own thoughts. It didn't help much. In the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts, he felt Spock's promise of meditation - he would separate their minds as soon as possible, rebuild the customary gates and controls that had been demolished by the bond's sudden resurgance. But for now...
Kirk looked down at the still form of Miramanee. She appeared to still be breathing. "Bones?" he asked.
"Not sure yet," said the doctor. "It'll be close. It'd help if we could get her back indoors, out of the wind. Any little bit of stress on her body could tilt the balance either way."
Kirk nodded and moved to help Nurse Chapel unfold the stretcher she had brought down with her. To his faint surprise, Spock moved to help as well, transferring Miramanee's prone body onto the stretcher and grasping one side.
They brought her to the lodge where Kirk and Miramanee had spent their months together. The place Kirk had thought of as home. Looking at it now, Kirk felt sick with guilt. What had he been doing, all this time? Playing house? While his ship, his crew needed him? While Spock needed him?
McCoy lay Miramanee out on the furs in the center of the room and shooed Kirk out while he worked. Kirk was only too happy to leave.
He found Spock sitting on the edge of the lake, legs crossed, eyes closed in meditation. Kirk sat next to him wordlessly. With the adrenaline fading and their bond resettling itself, the chaotic jumble of feelings that had lain like a tangled ball of yarn between them was finally starting to unravel itself into neat, understandable strands. But Kirk wasn't precisely certain he liked what either of them were feeling.
"I apologize for my behavior with the ambassador," Spock said calmly. "It was entirely inappropriate, and motivated by baseless hostility. I will endeavor to control my emotions better in the future."
Kirk said nothing for a moment. He remembered dreams, remembered Spock's face as he'd asked 'Why?' and 'Am I not enough?' Although he knew the vulcan would never show such emotion in waking life, that didn't make it less real.
"I..." Kirk started, but it was hard to know what to say. Even the bond wasn't helping - Spock was still keeping it tightly controlled to prevent excess bleeding.
"You know I'm attracted to women," Kirk said finally. Spock said nothing. "But... just because I am, it doesn't mean I-" spit it out, Kirk. Say it. "that I love you any less, or anything." Why did he still feel like such a child, saying something like that?
"Some day," said Spock quietly, "I fear you will hit your limit. What small amount of emotion I can give to you will not be adequate to what you require. It seems only logical that such a day will eventually come, and yet I am still reluctant to give you up regardless of this fact. This seems... selfish."
Kirk stared out over the lake. He lifted a hand and placed it on the back of Spock's neck, so that their skin was touching. The bond sharpened, comforting. "You give me what I need," Kirk murmured. "You always have what I need."
They said nothing else. Nothing else needed to be said. In the trees above them, a bird ceased its cowering as the wind finally began to die down, and resumed chirping.
"She'll make it," McCoy informed them, "but it was a close thing. I can't even tell you how close."
Kirk remembered Miramanee telling him that she was expected to be pregnant by now, and wondered what sort of additional strain that would have put on her body. What it might have meant to such a close life and death struggle. He felt an unexplainable chill run down his spine.
"Do you wish to speak with her?" asked Spock. His tone was neutral, but the bond told Kirk that Spock was carefully guarding his emotions.
Kirk was embarrassed to realize that he had to think about it. But what would he say to her? 'Sorry, I just remembered I have a husband waiting at home, so I can't stay with you'? 'Everything we had was a mistake'? The woman was ill. She might not be able to handle such bad news. But he couldn't stay. That was out of the question.
"...No." He said finally. He felt awful about it, but he'd done worse to girls and ran before. What was so different about it now? "If she asks, tell her I returned to the world of the gods. I can't... I'm just not that smooth, to be able to handle this. Sorry." He flipped open his communicator. "Scotty, beam me up whenever you're ready."
Miramanee looked weak and confused, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something. They widened when they came to rest on Spock, standing in the doorway. He had not bothered to hide his appearance, and he imagined he must look rather frightening to her.
"Who- who are you?"
Spock searched his thoughts for the memories he'd gotten in the bleedover from Jim. "I believe you would call me Pyrok, if I correctly understand your mythology and its interpretation. Although that is not my name."
Her eyes widened further, and she attempted to sit up. From the wincing and soft gasp she gave, it was a serious effort for her, but she managed it. When she was finally sitting upright, she leveled a glare at Spock. "What have you done with my husband? Where is he?"
"That man was not yours to take as a husband."
"He is mine!" she protested, her voice weak but defiant. "You are but a jealous brother! You cannot stop our love!"
"I am not his brother," said Spock, still calm. "I am his lover and husband. And he was mine long before he was yours."
Miramanee gasped, and fell silent. Spock stepped forward into the room and came to kneel next to her bedside. "I do not tell this to be cruel to you," he said. "But now that he has remembered me, I am taking him away. He may have seemed briefly to love you, but his mind was clouded. It is clear now."
"You... you have tricked him!" She seemed to have found her voice again. "You are a god of lies, and you have deceived and seduced him! You will not bear him strong sons as I would! You don't have the woman's strength he needs to be strong as a man! He would never return with you!"
Spock was silent for a moment, letting her work out her anger. When her tirade seemed to have stopped, he said, "If that is what you choose to believe, then so be it. I do not care for your emotions. I am here only because it is too painful for him to see you, and it seemed immoral to leave without speaking to you at all." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Miramanee's cry stopped him when he was halfway across the room. He turned back towards her, waiting.
"Please, will he at least... is he at least happy? Will he be happy with you? He was almost happy here, I think. When his mind was not far away, searching for you."
"I will make him as happy as it is in my power to do so," Spock assured her. "Whether by my life or death, presence or absence, his happiness is what I strive for above all."
Miramanee nodded and lay back down, either in satisfaction or mere exhaustion. Spock spared a last glance for her, and then left the room.
Kirk knew intellectually that his crew cared about him, but it was still nice to see the sheer love and relief with which he was greeted upon his return. He was hugged a frankly inordinate amount of times, and Uhura even kissed his cheek softly before murmuring in his ear, "He was miserable without you. Thank god you're back."
"Can't have a mopey vulcan, now can we?" Kirk muttered back as he pulled away, and winked at her.
He went straight to the bridge first, despite still being dressed in animal skins, and got them started for the nearest star base. They were also on impulse-only power, so he had Uhura send out a distress call for any nearby starships that might have the parts to help them repair, giving their intended route so that help would be able to find them. Then, finally, when everything was settled and they were on their way to the next destination, he returned to his quarters.
Stepping up to the threshold gave him a weird sense of deja vu. He half expected Spock to be in the center of the room, except that the vulcan was behind him, had followed him dutifully since they'd left the planet's orbit.
Looking around, Kirk realized why he'd dreamed of this room. The bridge was where he felt needed, and in control, and empowered, where he was at his best. But this room - the place he shared with the person most important to him - was home in a sort of effortless way that no other place was. The bridge was where he was at his best, but this was where he was most himself, where he could relax and just be Jim Kirk, not James T. Kirk, captain of the Enterprise, son of George and Winona Kirk, but just plain and simple Jim. It was simple the way that planet had been simple. Undemanding.
Behind him, Spock placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome home," he said.
-------------------
Read more Timeverse stories
Fandom: Star Trek (new movie)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to its owners, who are not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor spoilers for the movie, mild spoilers for the rest of the Timeverse, heavy spoilers for the TOS episode "Paradise Syndrome"
Series: Part of the Timeverse, taking place some time after Our Yesterdays And Tomorrows
Summary: A Timeverse re-telling of the episode "Paradise Syndrome"
Notes/Apology: Several years ago, someone posted on the kirkspock livejournal that she was being separated from her sister. Apparently they were/are quite close, and she was sad that her sister was going away for a while. As a favor from the community, she asked if someone could write her a story about Kirk and Spock being separated and dealing with that separation, to help her cope with her own situation. As I was just starting a re-telling fic about "Paradise Syndrome," I agreed. ...Around two years later, I finally finished the story. Aherm. So, to whoever you are, if you're still out there, I'm sorry this took so long. I hope your sister is back now, and that you'll enjoy this fic! I'm sorry it didn't get to you sooner.
When you were psychically linked to someone, arguments functioned differently. For one thing, there was no such thing as the silent treatment. Whether he wanted to be or not, Kirk was always aware of Spock's thoughts and emotions, even more so when Spock was angry with him. So although Spock was refusing to speak with him at the moment, it wasn't actually doing much to diminish their communication.
Not that Kirk really wanted to speak with Spock either at this point. If anything, he was the one who should be angry. He hadn't done anything wrong - it had just been a little harmless flirting. Not like he'd planned on doing anything about it. If Spock weren't so fucking jealous all the time, it would've been just another routine diplomatic mission and nothing would have come of it.
Kirk glared at his plate of food, knowing Spock could feel the expression and was making it right back at him - at least mentally. He heard a snort nearby and looked up to see McCoy sliding into the seat across the table from him. The doctor looked exasperated.
"Are you two STILL fighting?" McCoy groused. "It's been a week already. Just kiss and make up and get it overwith."
"I'M not the one who's angry," Kirk retorted, even though he sort of was. "I'M not the one who got irrationally jealous about a little harmless flirting with the ambassador. So she had nice tits! Big deal! It's not like he needs to get all upset about it!"
McCoy raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing. He continued to stare at Jim even as he began to eat.
Kirk sighed and lowered his head into his hands. "I just miss women sometimes, okay? There's nothing wrong with that. I just... I miss how soft they are, sometimes. I miss the game. It's not like I was actually gonna do anything with her."
"Well, tell him that," said McCoy, sounding unimpressed.
"He knows!" Kirk exploded. "He knows damn well how I feel! He has a fucking psychic bridge into my head! He can't possibly claim that he didn't know!"
McCoy held up a hand defensively. "Look, all I'm saying is that it's not good for crew morale to have the captain and first officer not on speaking terms. Just throwing that out there."
"He's the one who turned it into a diplomatic incident. I'm not apologizing to him when he's the one who gave her the Tellurite half-bread he KNEW she was allergic to. He should be grateful I'm not bringing him up on charges!"
"It wasn't that bad," said McCoy. "I got the swelling down quickly enough that she wasn't in any real danger, and the hives will go away before the conference starts."
"That doesn't make it better," said Kirk, glaring.
"Well, either way, you're gonna have to get your shit together soon. We're gonna have to beam down on the next mission, and unless you want to actually follow protocol for once and send him down to the surface without you, you're going to have to at least agree to be tolerable to each other for a few hours."
Kirk huffed, but didn't say anything. McCoy knew damn well that he'd never let Spock go into unknown territory alone, no matter how angry he was.
The planet was astonishingly peaceful, and even more astonishingly earth-like. The plants, animals, geology - everything was startling in its familiarity. Kirk had the strangest sense of being on earth again - even the smell was similar to home, a temperate forest landscape, the likes of which he'd seen dozens of times.
The inhabitants, too, were strange. They were clearly human, but of a culture that had been more or less extinct on earth for hundreds of years. Native North American in behavior, although a mix of a number of different tribes that would never have been found together, historically.
As Spock took readings of the people and their behavior, Kirk wandered back to the strange obelisk that they'd discovered upon landing. It was a strange, geometric shape, perhaps meant to be a flame of some kind, made of some unknown metallic green stone. Far too advanced in nature to have been made by the primitive culture they'd discovered inhabiting the planet's surface. All across the face of the monument were strange raised symbols that their computers had been unable to translate - not any written language that they recognized.
Kirk trailed his hand over the surface, wondering at the strange carvings. Sometimes he envied the peaceful nature of places like this. These people knew nothing of the giant asteroid about to hit their planet unless the Enterprise could stop it. They lived, they loved, they went about their simple little existances, and were never troubled by the galaxy-worth of problems that plagued a starship.
But of course, Kirk thought ruefully, smiling, he was idealizing these people, no doubt. Of course they probably still had to deal with jealousy, with strangers, with stubborn lovers and with pride getting in the way of being the first to apologize. Just because this land felt peaceful and idyllic didn't mean there wasn't an asteroid about to crash down on their heads and destroy their existance. The fact that they didn't know about it only made them more vulnerable to the danger.
Kirk sighed and extended his mind tentatively to sense his bondmate's thoughts. Spock's mind was still rigid with anger at him, and that raised Kirk's hackles in return. Well, screw him. If he was going to be angry and jealous, let him be angry and jealous. He was only hurting himself.
Kirk leaned one arm against the obelisk and flipped open his communicator to call Scotty.
Spock knew immediately that something was wrong. Although he'd been doing his best to ignore Kirk's thoughts and place a mental wall between them, the feeling of his bondmate's mind suddenly dropping away was difficult to miss. Spock's body went rigid, and McCoy, standing next to him, looked up in alarm.
"What? What is it?"
"The captain. Something's happened."
They needed little other communication. Wordlessly, they sprinted back in the direction Kirk had gone. He hadn't been far - he'd only gone back to inspect the strange monument they'd found on their arrival. But when they returned to it, Kirk was nowhere to be found. They searched, they called, eventually McCoy began to swear fit to bring down the wrath of god, but there was no sign of him. Their simple search became search parties, became sensor probes, but still there was no sign of him.
Spock concentrated on the bond, a failsafe which had gotten Kirk out of many a scrape in the past, but felt nothing. Kirk's mind was gone. But it was not as though he were dead - that, at least, was one comfort Spock could take - he would certainly be able to tell if Kirk had died. Instead, Kirk's end of the bond was... fuzzy. As though it were a tether that disappeared into a thick, impenetrable fog. The line would have severed altogether if Kirk died. But it was still there, taut, just... unseeable. Unknowable. Spock didn't know what to make of it.
But he did know what to make of the giant asteroid hurtling towards the planet. They had to get back to the ship and intercept it. They'd already wasted more time than was reasonable, even for such a valuable crewmember as Captain Kirk. The first order of business was to find the asteroid and divert it. Then, when the danger had passed, they could return and continue searching for the captain. If they continued to search now they would miss their window of opportunity to redirect the asteroid, and they would have failed the mission. Regardless of whether they eventually found the captain, the planet would be destroyed.
Spock flipped open his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise. Prepare to beam us up Mr. Scott. We're warping out of orbit."
"Leaving?" asked McCoy incredulously. "You can't be serious, Spock!"
Spock did his best to explain the situation to McCoy without sounding overly condescending - it was simple logic. He knew the doctor would not be happy with it regardless. If he were entirely honest with himself, Spock was not thrilled with the idea either. But he had to take the logical steps necessary to preserve as much life as possible, and to complete the mission if at all possible. The captain, no matter how beloved, was a secondary concern.
And he was still alive. That, above all else, Spock kept firmly in his mind. While Jim was alive, there was still hope. They would beam up, move the asteroid, and be back shortly. Then they would find the captain, bring him home, and all would be well. It had to be. It was the only logical course.
He woke with a headache, and no idea where he was. No idea WHO he was, he realized a moment later. He was... in a room. A strange room, with grey walls and strange inscriptions and lights everywhere. What was this place? What was going on?
He stumbled up a passage and a door slid open above his head, revealing sunlight. The world he emerged into was... peaceful. Quiet. That seemed strange somehow, or... nostalgic? Something. He paused, uncertain what to do with himself.
A woman. Two women. They approached the bottom of the strange rock dais he had emerged onto, and froze when they saw him. As he stared, they came forward and bowed low. He couldn't fathom why. Who did they think he was?
One woman was bold enough to approach him, although her demeanor was still worshipful. "Who... are you?" he asked.
"We are your people," she responded, her voice light and musical. "We've been waiting for you to come to us."
She led him to her village. He followed her - what other choice was there? Her name was Miramanee, she said. She was the daughter of the tribal chief. Clearly he was a god sent by the Wise Ones to help them, she said. Their village was in danger - the skies had been darkening and legend said that soon they would need a medicine chief who could enter the temple and call forth the blue flame, to save them all.
Miramanee introduced him to the village, and they, too, seemed to think he was a god. Was that true? It would explain many things. His mind was fogged, but he remembered coming from the sky, remebered others like him, but only vaguely...
"What do you wish to be called?" asked the chief.
But he couldn't remember. It was so difficult to think. He just wanted to sink into this place, and not think about his past. Not wonder who had been. Those thoughts... they seemed so difficult. He wanted them to leave him alone, the thoughts.
"Kur..." he tried. It had been something like that, hadn't it? Something with that sound?
"Kirok?" the chief finished. The chief seemed relieved, somehow. It seemed as good a name as any. He could be Kirok, then. Perhaps he was.
Kirok, then. If these people thought he was a god, who was he to contradict them? Especially when he didn't know himself.
The redirection of the asteroid went poorly. Spock cursed himself inwardly for not stepping down. He was too invested to make reasonable decisions. He had thought he was making a calculated risk, but he had been sloppy. He'd underestimated the firepower it would take to move the asteroid now that they'd let it get too close. He'd disregarded Officer Scott's warnings about the safety of the engine, and risked them in a gamble to draw enough power to split the asteroid in half. The gamble had failed, and now the warp drive was useless. He'd blown too much power trying to break the asteroid and now he'd not only failed at that, he'd crippled them. They were down to impulse power, able to move little faster than the asteroid itself as it hurtled towards the planet where even now, Jim was lost.
How could it have all gone so horribly wrong? What would Jim have done in his place? Surely the captain wouldn't have mangled the situation so badly.
When he'd last seen Jim, they'd been angry with each other. They hadn't been speaking.
Nevermind. He couldn't falter now. He couldn't let himself sink into despair. The captain needed him, so he needed to be calm and logical, and keep everything under control. He couldn't fall to pieces. He would not let Jim down.
But of course, Leonard McCoy would not make such a thing easy for him.
"Well Spock," said the doctor, and Spock could hear the ill-suppressed anger in the man's voice, "you took your 'calculated risk' in your calculated Vulcan way and you lost. You lost for us, you lost for that planet, and you lost for Jim."
"I accept the responsibility, Doctor," Spock gritted, reaching for his calm. After Jim, Doctor McCoy was second to none at getting under his skin.
"And my responsibility is the health of this crew!" McCoy retorted. "You've been driving yourself too hard and I want you to get some rest." Despite the apparent sympathy in the words, McCoy's tone made it clear that this was an order, given in anger and only because it was his duty. His tone made it clear that really, Spock could go to hell for all McCoy really cared.
Spock ignored him and turned on the comm to the bridge. "Mr. Chekov," he said, "resume heading mark 883-mark-41."
"Back to that planet without warp speed?" McCoy said incredulously. "It'll take months, Spock!"
"Exactly 59.223 days, Doctor," Spock intoned, still emotionless. "And that asteroid will be four hours behind us all the way." He turned his attention away from the doctor and concentrated instead on his monitor. Symbols swept across it - recordings he'd taken from the planet's surface of the face of the strange monument, and its equally strange carvings. It held the secret to Jim's disappearance, of that he was sure. Somewhere in those symbols was the key to finding him again. All he had to do was unlock it.
"Spock!" Suddenly, McCoy could not be ignored. He was next to Spock, shaking him by the shoulders. Spock looked up at the doctor, annoyed to be interrupted. Couldn't he see that this was important?
"Listen to me, Spock!" McCoy shouted. "I'm not sure you're making good decisions anymore. I have the authority to remove you from command. Don't think I won't use it! Do you even fucking care about finding Jim at all? Or did you just leave him down there because of that stupid grudge over a girl?"
Spock stood up so suddenly that his chair clattered behind him, tipping over. The doctor took a startled step backwards, but Spock did not menace him physically.
"I will find Jim," Spock promised. "I will save him, and I will save this ship. I remain fit for duty at this time. Anything else is none of your concern."
McCoy glared at him, looking too furious to speak. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut on whatever retort he had planned and spun on his heel, stalking out the door. Spock carefully righted his chair and placed it back in front of his monitor. He sat down and returned his gaze to the symbols on the obelisk.
Somewhere in those symbols was Jim. Spock would find him.
Kirok's world was a blissfully simple one. He had a beautiful woman, whom he loved and who loved him, he had the respect of his people, and he had the time and leisure to enjoy it. Everything would have been perfect, but for the dreams.
They came nearly every night, particularly at first. A ship, but a ship that was not a ship - more like a village, floating through the air. Men and women like ghosts that moved around on it, faceless in his mind, their names always one step beyond his grasp.
He came to a room in this place, although he was not certain why it was different than the others, except that it was home. It had a feeling of certainty, but it made him uneasy. He had a home, after all, and it was with Miramanee. This strange room, as faceless as the people on the craft, should not mean such things to him.
But even the dreams did not trouble him until they began to leak into his waking moments. It happened for the first time on the night of his wedding to Miramanee - tribal custom said that as medicine chief, he was betrothed to the priestess, the tribal chief's daughter. Miramanee was beautiful, and Kirok was eager to take her to bed. But what should have been simple and beautiful was anything but.
The fire of lust within Kirok was great enough that at first he did not notice the other fire burning inside him.
His hands brushed over the beautiful body of the woman beneath him, tracing her curves, reveling in the soft touch of her flesh on his fingertips. A strange, heated buzzing began to well up behind his eyes, but he ignored it as a mere side-effect of the strength of his desire for his new wife.
She smiled at him and blushed for him, and he had the oddest feeling that he'd missed her, as though he'd been away from her for a long time and was only now coming back. She placed a tentative hand on his member and a shock of unease ran through Kirok. The buzzing behind his eyes grew louder, verging on painful. Still he ignored it.
The love of his woman blanketed him, spared him from the strange, painful heat. He was able to let himself sink into her embrace and muffle the approaching headache in it for some time.
But when he tried to enter her, there was no escape - suddenly the pain flared in his head, full of fire and rage so poignant it took Kirok's breath away. He doubled over, clutching at his temples, as the anger swept uncontrollably through him.
As the ringing faded from his ears and the red from his vision, Kirok found himself kneeling, breath coming in heavy gasps, hands grabbing his head as though trying to prevent it from exploding. Miramanee was crouched next to him, her hands fluttering over him uncertainly, words of comfort and worried questions on her lips.
"The fire-" Kirok gasped out. "It hurts. It hurts so much. He's so angry."
"He?" Miramanee asked, but Kirok had no answer to her question. He hadn't meant to say that. He didn't know who he was talking about, or if he was even talking about a person at all. But he had felt the anger as sure as day, and it was not his own, so presumably it must belong to someone?
"I- I'm sorry," Kirok mumbled. "It feels like someone's... watching me, perhaps. I don't understand. But the anger, and the fire..."
"Fire?" asked Miramanee. "Perhaps it is Pyrok?"
Kirok looked up at her, confused. "Who is Pyrok?"
She smiled somewhat wanly at him. It was clear she was still distressed by his behavior, but attempting to be brave and humoring him. "Surely the gods know everything? Have you forgotten your own brother?"
Kirok frowned. "Brother?" That seemed... familiar...
"Kirok and Pyrok are brothers," Miramanee explained. "Pyrok is of fire, and Kirok is of the sun, but Pyrok is often jealous of Kirok because Kirok's fire is gentle and restrained, but all-powerful, while Pyrok's is a pale imitation that rages unchecked, yet can barely push back the night."
Brothers. Brothers of fire. Yes, that seemed correct. Pyrok, brother of fire. Kirok found himself nodding. It seemed to make sense, in a dim sort of way. "You think his jealousy is keeping me from you?" Kirok asked.
"It is the only explanation I can see."
Kirok smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, Miramanee. This is not how I planned for our wedding night to go."
"It is alright." She patted the warm furs next to her. "Why don't you come here and simply lie with me? We will sleep - Pyrok cannot steal our love for each other, or the warmth of our bodies."
Kirok lay next to her gratefully, tugging her close to him. He drifted off still trying to pull the mantle of peace back around his mind.
"Spock?" The voice at his door was tentative. Spock looked up. Nyota. He glanced at her in acknowledgement but did not respond, his concentration still fixed on his symbols.
"McCoy says you haven't eaten or slept in weeks. He wanted me to talk to you. He's sorry he yelled at you before. He regrets it. We all know this wasn't your fault. You made the best decision you could at the time. The captain would have done the same."
Spock shook his head, though his eyes never left the screen. "As I told the doctor, in times of need, Vulcans are capable of going for long periods without rest or nourishment. I'm fine."
"You're not going to be able to help Jim if you kill yourself out of guilt."
Uhura, as usual, cut right to the heart of the matter. Spock did not like to admit even to himself how uncomfortably close to the truth she had hit.
"I am responsible for leaving the captain behind. I am therefore also responsible for finding and returning him to the ship."
Nyota grabbed a second chair from by the wall and slid it up to the desk, sitting down next to Spock so they were at eye level. "Spock, you need to rest."
He didn't know how to explain it to her. If he told her that he couldn't, that the bed in their room smelled wrong now that Jim's scent had faded from it, that laying down on it alone and empty would only agitate him further and in no way encourage sleep - if he told her these things, she would think he was being sentimental. But it was not sentiment, it was logic. These were facts. It was a fact that his resting would not bring the captain back any faster. Resting might bring up memories, the faint echo of a sensation long-forgotten, the lustful excitement of Jim in coitus, but without him, away from him, shrouded and hidden away from his sight. He'd felt it several times already now, and each time the flare of anger and jealousy became more and more difficult to control. No. Rest was not what he needed.
Uhura sighed, exasperated, and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Then at least let me help." She reached over and tilted the monitor towards herself. "It'll go faster with the two of us working on it. What have you found out so far?"
Spock looked over at her finally, surprised. It was moments like these that made him remember why he had once thought he could love this woman.
Spock turned his attention back to the monitor, and began to outline his conclusions.
Miramanee stood on the edge of the lake, looking wistfully out over its surface. Kirok approached from behind her and wound his arms around her waist, sighing happily. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she raised a hand to pet his hair softly. It was a moment of blissful contentment for Kirok, in a way he could not put into words.
"What's troubling you, my love?" he asked her. "You seem pensive."
She turned her head and smiled at him, leaning forward to give him a small kiss. "It's nothing terrible, husband. I was only musing on the talk of the midwives."
"The midwives?"
"They are beginning to wonder why I am not yet with child."
Kirok felt a pang of guilt. It was the only black mark on his otherwise perfect happiness - he still could not bed Miramanee. The dreams were strong now; he couldn't bring himself to tell her that lately they'd been getting stronger and stronger.
And more confusing. In his dreams, Kirok paced the halls of the strange sky-village, moving again towards the room that was home but not home. But when he reached it, someone was there - someone he did not recognize. A man, but not a man - a stranger with pointed ears and the scent of the desert. He stood in the center of the room and when he turned to face Kirok, his cheeks were streaked with tears.
"Why, Jim?" his voice was rough and unhappy. "Am I not enough for you? I have been loyal. I have given you everything that I can. Is it still not enough? Have I done wrong to you?"
He did not know this stranger, did not know who the stranger was speaking to, but nevertheless the tears wracked him with guilt. They seemed so strange, so out of place. Kirok felt that they were his fault, but he did not know why. He could not deal with such unfathomable sadness.
"Miramanee," Kirok asked her, following his thoughts and changing the subject, "is there a god who is known to be unhappy? Pyrok, perhaps? Someone known for sadness?"
Miramanee gave him the strange but indulgent look she always gave him when he asked about the gods. "No, not that I know of. Pyrok is known for his anger and for his subtle trickery. Not for sadness."
"Hmm." Kirok tried to banish the dreams from his mind. He had Miramanee. He was happy. She was happy, most of the time. They would be alright. He wouldn't worry any more about the sky-village or any vengeful gods that might be watching him.
Spock sat in a corner of the room near the bed, idly plucking the strings of his lute, half-submerged in a meditative trance that he hoped would restore enough of his strength that he could still be useful in a fight on the planet's surface if necessary.
McCoy entered, as he often did, without waiting for Spock's permission. "I prescribed sleep," he groused.
"You prescribed rest, Doctor" said Spock calmly. He allowed his contentment to ease through faintly into him - there was no shame in satisfaction in a job well done. With Uhura's help, he'd finally been able to make headway in the symbol analysis.
"The symbols on the obelisk are not words," Spock said, before McCoy could launch into a tirade on the semantic difference between sleep and rest. "They are musical notes."
"Musical notes... you mean it's nothing but a song?" McCoy was interested enough in Spock's findings to be momentarily distracted from the topic of Spock's health.
"In a way, yes. Other cultures, among them certain Vulcan offshoots, use musical notes as words. The tones correspond roughly to an alphabet. I was lucky Lieutenant Uhura is almost as well-versed in musical theory as she is in linguistics. We were finally able to grasp the underlying nature of the puzzle."
"Were you able to make any sense of the symbols?"
"Yes." Spock put down the lute and stood, his energy returning with the satisfaction of having solved such a difficult problem. "The obelisk is a marker, just as I thought." He began to pace the room, working feeling back into legs that were tired from long periods of sitting in front of his computer. "It was left by a super-race known as 'The Preservers.' They passed through the galaxy rescuing primitive cultures that were in danger of extinction and 'seeding' them, so to speak, where they could live and grow."
"I've always wondered why there were so many humanoids scattered throughout the galaxy," McCoy mused.
"So have I. Apparently, the Presevers account for a number of them."
McCoy was apparently catching on quickly, just as Spock had when he had realized the implications. "That's probably how the planet has survived all these centuries." This was not the first asteroid that had threatened the destruction of this planet. In such a volatile region of space, it couldn't be. "The Preservers put an asteroid deflector on the planet!"
"Which has now become defective and is failing to operate," Spock finished, echoing his own earlier conclusions.
"Then we have to find that deflector and put it back into working order. Otherwise..." he trailed off, realizing the implications.
"Precisely, Doctor." And there was only one place it could possibly be. The obelisk was the only sign of their race the Presevers had left on the planet. It had to be there for a reason. They could find it, repair it, deflect the asteroid and, if they were lucky, locate the captain at the same time.
If Spock knew Jim, he wouldn't be far from the one piece of advanced technology on the planet. No matter what had happened to him, his curiosity was a defining part of Jim's being. The captain wouldn't have gone far from such a puzzle. He and Spock were remarkably alike in that way.
They would find him, and soon. They were coming for him, and soon enough they would have Jim back.
The sky was darkening. Miramanee had warned him of this. It meant destruction was coming, and it was the duty of the medicine chief to enter the temple and bring forth the blue flame.
The only problem was, though he'd come from the temple, Kirok had no idea how to get back in. He'd spent hours examining the strange stone obelisk, but try though he might he could not read the writing on the surface. He couldn't find any sort of catch or other mechanism to allow him access. It was, as far as he could tell, a solid stone slab and nothing more.
But the villagers would not accept that. He could see the fear mounting in their eyes as he tried and tried to open the temple. Fear that quickly turned to anger, and anger that quickly turned to violence.
Kirok flinched as the first stone hit him. They'd kill him. They'd stone him to death for being a false god, just to make themselves feel a little bit better before the end came and took them all. Well, so be it. If that was all that he could do for them, then it was no more than he deserved.
"Kirok!"
Kirok's eyes widened as Miramanee burst forward from the crowd, running into his arms. "No!" he protested. "They'll kill you!" But it was too late. The rocks were falling on them both, and he saw her stumble as one collided with her side. Kirok jumped forward to meet her, trying to shield her with his own body, but already she was slumping down to the ground, eyes fluttering closed. Then another stone hit Kirok in the back of the head, and he too succumbed to darkness.
When Spock and McCoy materialized on the planet's surface, they were just in time to catch a group of villagers stoning the captain and a strange woman in front of the obelisk. They dashed forward and the villagers scattered at the strangers' presence.
Spock wasted neither time nor thought for them, but dashed instead to the captain's side. He was still breathing - good. And not only breathing - mumbling. "My wife, is she alright?"
Spock frowned. Wife?
"Miramanee!" Kirk called again.
McCoy frowned over at him. "Hallucinations?" he wondered aloud.
After so long, Spock wanted nothing more than to slip into the mind of his bonded, to find the source of the strange fog and these unwelcome thoughts and banish it, but mind melds were not something to be lightly undertaken. He turned instead to McCoy, who was busy examining the strange woman.
"Is he strong enough for a meld?" he snapped curtly.
McCoy opened his communicator and said in short, clipped tones, "I need Chapel down here with an emergency surgical kit," before stepping over to Kirk to examine him. After a few moments scanning him, he nodded. "Bring him back to us, if you can. We've gotta get inside that obelisk. I could heal him from out here, but it would take too long. You know his mind better than anyone. Me and Chapel will see to the girl."
Spock needed no more encouragement. He lay his fingers against the meld points on the captain's face and slid effortlessly down into the mists of Kirk's mind.
Kirok stood in the center of the lodge, the wind howling in anger all around him. The wooden structure shook precariously - it was not safe here.
He ran for the door, but when he pushed away the furs that hung across the entrance he saw not the dirt path and tall trees of his own village but the crisp grey and white lines of the sky-village. It was the room - that strange room that urged him to think of it as home, and the weeping stranger, standing in the center. But he was not weeping now. He caught sight of Kirok and stepped towards him.
"Jim!" he exclaimed happily.
Kirok took a step backwards, letting the furs fall back over the entrance. This couldn't be happening. It was some sort of dream. What was going on?
The furs moved, and moments later the stranger stepped into the room. This had never happened before. Always he had encountered the stranger in the sky-village. Never on Kirok's own ground. Kirok backed up another step.
"Jim?" asked the stranger, suddenly uncertain.
"Who are you?!" Kirok yelled. "I am Kirok! You will leave this premises immediately!"
"Jim, I am Spock. I am your bonded. You do not...? You must remember me, Jim. You must try to remember."
"No!" Where was Miramanee? She was in danger. He had to help her. "Get away from me! I won't hurt you unless I have to."
"Just come into this room with me, Jim," the stranger - Spock - gestured back towards the white room. "Come with me, and you'll remember everything."
"I will not!" Kirok was losing patience with this stranger. "Leave now, or I will attack."
"Jim-"
Kirok lunged forward, slamming his fist into his opponent's gut. The stranger staggered backward, a look of intense surprise on his face. "I am Kirok!" Kirok screamed, tumbling forward and swinging wildly.
Spock recovered quickly, and blocked Kirok's haphazard blows. His expression was one of anger now, and suddenly Kirok recognized this heat, this jealousy-red rage. This was the fire in his mind that had kept him from Miramanee. This was Pyrok, his brother who hated him and was jealous of all he had.
"Fight me, Pyrok!" Kirok challenged, continuing to rain blows on the now defensive Pyrok.
"I- I am not-" Pyrok tried, but Kirok did not allow him the leisure of speech. The fight became almost a dance, blows and parries that were strangely familiar. Kirok felt they'd fought this fight a thousand times. He knew exactly how Pyrok would move, and Pyrok seemed to know exactly what he intended as well. It was almost like a game, and the longer it drew on, the more frightened Kirok became of this knowledge.
"I'm sorry," Pyrok rasped, "but we do not have time for this!"
Kirok opened his mouth to respond, but was shocked into silence by Pyrok running straight for him in a completely open bull-rush. It was so unexpected that Kirok took too long to put up a defense, and took the full brunt of the attack to his torso, sliding back as the stranger hit him and continued onward.
Too late, Kirok realized what Pyrok was doing. He tried to dig in his heels to stop their rapid progress towards the door, but the result was only that both he and Pyrok went tumbling over backwards through it, the furs flying aside as they plunged into the white room.
Kirk looked up at the white walls of their room on the Enterprise, and looked over at Spock. The vulcan was panting and looking at him suspiciously. He looked tired, and betrayed. Kirk felt a pang of guilt before everything whited out, blinding in its brightness.
Kirk woke to see a rare expression of true surprise on Spock's face above him, before the vulcan schooled his features back into their customary calm. "He is an extremely dynamic individual," said Spock, apparently in response to something McCoy had said - the Doctor was kneeling to his left, Kirk realized.
"It worked," said Kirk, sitting up. His head was killing him, but that would have to wait for later. For now, they had a planet to save. He looked over and with a pang caught sight of Miramanee's still body. But they had no time for that now. He would worry about her later as well.
"Captain, were you inside this structure?" asked Spock tersely, standing.
Kirk struggled to his feet. Spock's grip was firm on his arm, helping him up. "Yes. What's inside is loaded with scientific equipment."
"This obelisk is one huge deflector mechanism," Spock informed him. Kirk's brain was already racing, slotting all the information he had into place. Of course. A planet this idyllic in a region of space this volatile. The one piece of advanced technology in the whole place? Of course it must be a deflector of some kind. The weather abnormality must mean the asteroid was almost here. And if Spock and McCoy were down on the planet with him, that must mean they'd failed to redirect it in time. Which meant the deflector was now their only hope.
"It is imperative that we get inside immediately," Spock confirmed, echoing his thoughts. And Spock could hear him. Of course Spock could hear him thinking. When had he lost that? HOW had he lost that? But no time for such thoughts. They needed to get in.
Music, said Spock's mind, and immediately Kirk understood the work that had gone on in the months he'd been trapped on the planet, the conclusions Spock and Uhura had come to on the symbols, and what they had to do now.
"I remember..." Kirk muttered, trying to replay in his mind what had happened just before he'd first fallen into the obelisk.
Kirk held out his hand Spock wordlessly placed his communicator into the captain's outstretched palm. Kirk flicked it open. "Kirk to Enterprise," he said, almost absently.
"Aye Captain?" came Scotty's heavily-accented response, just as it had months ago. And just as it had months ago, a panel at the base of the obelisk slid aside, revealing a passage down into the structure. Kirk and Spock rushed down inside.
"Scotty," Kirk called as moved down into the chamber, "if the deflector isn't activated within twenty minutes, get out of orbit. Get the Enterprise out of the danger zone. The landing party is expendable; the Enterprise isn't. Kirk out."
He spared a last look at Miramanee before they disappeared into the obelisk - but McCoy was taking care of her, and they had more important things to worry about right now.
The room below the monument was some kind of control center, with panels full of buttons, knobs, and flashing lights. Kirk was momentarily overwhelmed, but Spock's mind was confident in the research he'd done. As Kirk explored the nature of Spock's solution swimming between their minds, Spock moved over to a panel near the center and pressed a single button. The ground began to shake slightly. A display to one side indicated that a beam had been fired, and they heard McCoy and Chapel cheer from outside.
Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance. The connection between their minds felt raw, overflowing with information, but Kirk was not certain if it was changed or if it was only that he'd grown unused to feeling it for so long. Emotion was bleeding rampantly between them - fear, anger, guilt, joy, relief, jealousy - and it was nearly impossible to tell which of them was feeling what.
They made their way back out of the obelisk, and Kirk took several steps away from his first officer, trying to get enough distance to sort out his own thoughts. It didn't help much. In the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts, he felt Spock's promise of meditation - he would separate their minds as soon as possible, rebuild the customary gates and controls that had been demolished by the bond's sudden resurgance. But for now...
Kirk looked down at the still form of Miramanee. She appeared to still be breathing. "Bones?" he asked.
"Not sure yet," said the doctor. "It'll be close. It'd help if we could get her back indoors, out of the wind. Any little bit of stress on her body could tilt the balance either way."
Kirk nodded and moved to help Nurse Chapel unfold the stretcher she had brought down with her. To his faint surprise, Spock moved to help as well, transferring Miramanee's prone body onto the stretcher and grasping one side.
They brought her to the lodge where Kirk and Miramanee had spent their months together. The place Kirk had thought of as home. Looking at it now, Kirk felt sick with guilt. What had he been doing, all this time? Playing house? While his ship, his crew needed him? While Spock needed him?
McCoy lay Miramanee out on the furs in the center of the room and shooed Kirk out while he worked. Kirk was only too happy to leave.
He found Spock sitting on the edge of the lake, legs crossed, eyes closed in meditation. Kirk sat next to him wordlessly. With the adrenaline fading and their bond resettling itself, the chaotic jumble of feelings that had lain like a tangled ball of yarn between them was finally starting to unravel itself into neat, understandable strands. But Kirk wasn't precisely certain he liked what either of them were feeling.
"I apologize for my behavior with the ambassador," Spock said calmly. "It was entirely inappropriate, and motivated by baseless hostility. I will endeavor to control my emotions better in the future."
Kirk said nothing for a moment. He remembered dreams, remembered Spock's face as he'd asked 'Why?' and 'Am I not enough?' Although he knew the vulcan would never show such emotion in waking life, that didn't make it less real.
"I..." Kirk started, but it was hard to know what to say. Even the bond wasn't helping - Spock was still keeping it tightly controlled to prevent excess bleeding.
"You know I'm attracted to women," Kirk said finally. Spock said nothing. "But... just because I am, it doesn't mean I-" spit it out, Kirk. Say it. "that I love you any less, or anything." Why did he still feel like such a child, saying something like that?
"Some day," said Spock quietly, "I fear you will hit your limit. What small amount of emotion I can give to you will not be adequate to what you require. It seems only logical that such a day will eventually come, and yet I am still reluctant to give you up regardless of this fact. This seems... selfish."
Kirk stared out over the lake. He lifted a hand and placed it on the back of Spock's neck, so that their skin was touching. The bond sharpened, comforting. "You give me what I need," Kirk murmured. "You always have what I need."
They said nothing else. Nothing else needed to be said. In the trees above them, a bird ceased its cowering as the wind finally began to die down, and resumed chirping.
"She'll make it," McCoy informed them, "but it was a close thing. I can't even tell you how close."
Kirk remembered Miramanee telling him that she was expected to be pregnant by now, and wondered what sort of additional strain that would have put on her body. What it might have meant to such a close life and death struggle. He felt an unexplainable chill run down his spine.
"Do you wish to speak with her?" asked Spock. His tone was neutral, but the bond told Kirk that Spock was carefully guarding his emotions.
Kirk was embarrassed to realize that he had to think about it. But what would he say to her? 'Sorry, I just remembered I have a husband waiting at home, so I can't stay with you'? 'Everything we had was a mistake'? The woman was ill. She might not be able to handle such bad news. But he couldn't stay. That was out of the question.
"...No." He said finally. He felt awful about it, but he'd done worse to girls and ran before. What was so different about it now? "If she asks, tell her I returned to the world of the gods. I can't... I'm just not that smooth, to be able to handle this. Sorry." He flipped open his communicator. "Scotty, beam me up whenever you're ready."
Miramanee looked weak and confused, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something. They widened when they came to rest on Spock, standing in the doorway. He had not bothered to hide his appearance, and he imagined he must look rather frightening to her.
"Who- who are you?"
Spock searched his thoughts for the memories he'd gotten in the bleedover from Jim. "I believe you would call me Pyrok, if I correctly understand your mythology and its interpretation. Although that is not my name."
Her eyes widened further, and she attempted to sit up. From the wincing and soft gasp she gave, it was a serious effort for her, but she managed it. When she was finally sitting upright, she leveled a glare at Spock. "What have you done with my husband? Where is he?"
"That man was not yours to take as a husband."
"He is mine!" she protested, her voice weak but defiant. "You are but a jealous brother! You cannot stop our love!"
"I am not his brother," said Spock, still calm. "I am his lover and husband. And he was mine long before he was yours."
Miramanee gasped, and fell silent. Spock stepped forward into the room and came to kneel next to her bedside. "I do not tell this to be cruel to you," he said. "But now that he has remembered me, I am taking him away. He may have seemed briefly to love you, but his mind was clouded. It is clear now."
"You... you have tricked him!" She seemed to have found her voice again. "You are a god of lies, and you have deceived and seduced him! You will not bear him strong sons as I would! You don't have the woman's strength he needs to be strong as a man! He would never return with you!"
Spock was silent for a moment, letting her work out her anger. When her tirade seemed to have stopped, he said, "If that is what you choose to believe, then so be it. I do not care for your emotions. I am here only because it is too painful for him to see you, and it seemed immoral to leave without speaking to you at all." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Miramanee's cry stopped him when he was halfway across the room. He turned back towards her, waiting.
"Please, will he at least... is he at least happy? Will he be happy with you? He was almost happy here, I think. When his mind was not far away, searching for you."
"I will make him as happy as it is in my power to do so," Spock assured her. "Whether by my life or death, presence or absence, his happiness is what I strive for above all."
Miramanee nodded and lay back down, either in satisfaction or mere exhaustion. Spock spared a last glance for her, and then left the room.
Kirk knew intellectually that his crew cared about him, but it was still nice to see the sheer love and relief with which he was greeted upon his return. He was hugged a frankly inordinate amount of times, and Uhura even kissed his cheek softly before murmuring in his ear, "He was miserable without you. Thank god you're back."
"Can't have a mopey vulcan, now can we?" Kirk muttered back as he pulled away, and winked at her.
He went straight to the bridge first, despite still being dressed in animal skins, and got them started for the nearest star base. They were also on impulse-only power, so he had Uhura send out a distress call for any nearby starships that might have the parts to help them repair, giving their intended route so that help would be able to find them. Then, finally, when everything was settled and they were on their way to the next destination, he returned to his quarters.
Stepping up to the threshold gave him a weird sense of deja vu. He half expected Spock to be in the center of the room, except that the vulcan was behind him, had followed him dutifully since they'd left the planet's orbit.
Looking around, Kirk realized why he'd dreamed of this room. The bridge was where he felt needed, and in control, and empowered, where he was at his best. But this room - the place he shared with the person most important to him - was home in a sort of effortless way that no other place was. The bridge was where he was at his best, but this was where he was most himself, where he could relax and just be Jim Kirk, not James T. Kirk, captain of the Enterprise, son of George and Winona Kirk, but just plain and simple Jim. It was simple the way that planet had been simple. Undemanding.
Behind him, Spock placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome home," he said.
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