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sachiko1309 · 9 months

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Known as the Commanders whore

Summary: Finally, Lucys rapist is trialed. But as Vulcan laws command it simply does not stop with a simple prosecution.

Word count: 6823

Warnings: violence, blood, pain, primitive fight, sass, fluff, smut at the end, Minors DNI! this contains adult content

Disclaimer: Spock and Lucy have a permanent mind meld, so they can feel and see each others thoughts and communicate through it.

Served hot for: @mystery-star

We then stepped together into the stands of the arena. Jim, Bones and Sarek surrounded me like a protective wall. Following Sarek, we walked through the narrow corridors and went straight to the balustrade that separated us from the arena. Thank God the sun had already sunken pretty low, that it disappeared behind the trees, otherwise I wouldn't have recognized what was happening in front of my eyes.

Spock and Hanesh both wore the same loose black pants. The rest of their body was naked and now covered with runes written in red paint. The highest minister L’Vor and the judge Avarak both stood in a circle with them, an easel of weapons behind them. My gaze was fixed on Spock, who appeared to be bandaging his hands. Avarak said something to the two of them that I didn't understand because of the distance and the murmur in the arena, but they both nodded once.

L'Vor took a few steps from the center and addressed the audience. Well, probably more likely me, since I was one of the few that did not know what was about to happen: “At the request of the condemned Hanesh, today's court verdict becomes a puk na' ha'kiv il tevak. Commander Spock acts as the defender of his K'diwa receives the right to first choice of weapon. As our law states, it is a fight to the death. The winner decides on the type of execution. Whether by own hand or by someone else's. A suspension of this rule is essential.” He turned slowly in a circle and gave the crowd a heavy look.

When Avarak then nodded to him, L'Vor spoke up again: "Choose your weapons." That was the moment when I subconsciously clung to Jim's arm. I stared fixedly at Spock, who walked slowly down the easel and finally decided on a spear and two daggers. To my amazement, Hanesh did the same. At Avarak 's signal, Spock and Hanesh went to their assigned fields in the arena. Avarak raised his arms, looked between the two fighters one last time, and then lowered his hands. “Begin.”

Simultaneously both men grabbed their spears and stalked towards each other. The daggers clattering at their hips. Spock was the first to reach out. With a low whistle, his spear pierced towards Hanesh's upper body. But he easily repelled the first blow with a crack. Spock attacked again, took a few steps and then jumped. This time his attack was faster. The tip of the spear aimed at Hanesh's neck. He missed it by a hair's width and a few seconds later the first blood dripped to the ground.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Spock seemed up to the task.

But now it was Hanesh who attacked. His tactics were more brutal and less subtle. He tried to hit Spock with quick swings, using both the tip of his spear and the end of the handle. Spock dodged it again and again, rolling across the ground and deftly blocking his opponent's swings. When Hanesh began to stagger from a particularly powerful blow, Spock counterattacked.

He rolled his spear over his shoulder, narrowly missing Hanesh. But the next blow caught my tormentor unprepared on the flank. With a loud growl, Hanesh fell to the ground. Blood seeping from between his fingers. The ease with which Spock had already injured him twice seemed to make him even angrier. With a loud scream, Hanesh threw himself at Spock, throwing him over his waist to the ground. Spock dropped his spear in surprise, which was promptly broken by Hanesh.

My grip on Jim's arm immediately tightened. I held my breath and watched with increasing fear as Spock rolled several meters across the ground before he caught himself. His fingers were quick on the hilts of his daggers and he barely managed to block another thrust from Hanesh spear. Wood splintered onto the ground and for a brief moment I thought I could sense fear through our connection.

But as quickly as the feeling had come, it was gone again and Spock lunged at his opponent with an indignant growl. After just a few hits, Hanesh also switched to his daggers. Probably because Spock was always careful to be close enough and not give him a chance to use the full power of his spear. Now, alongside the violent gasps, the clatter of blades filled the arena.

I bit my tongue and forced myself to keep looking, even though everything inside me was now filled with pure panic. The sharp blades clashed again and again. Often only a few inches away from sensitive parts of the body. In my panic, I hadn't realized how hard I was now clawing at Jim's arm. Only when he made sounds of pain and tried to remove my fingers from his arm did I relax my grip a little.

The battle before us had now become an indescribably deadly dance. In the low sun I could clearly see the sweat glistening on Spock's back and was fascinated for a few seconds as the red color began to run down his back in thin lines. It had an almost picturesque calming effect.

But then it happened. Hanesh scored for the first time. Spock hadn't been quick enough to block the incoming blade and so he had no choice but to dodge. Anyone else would probably have been dead, but Spock was skilled enough that the blade barely glided across his ribcage, only catching him in a small spot just before his armpit. Still, I could clearly feel the pain through our connection. Burning hot, it dug into my chest and I instinctively reached for the spot where Spock had been injured. A few meters in front of me, Spock fell to his knees and let out a pained growl. Hanesh, however, didn't give him time to think. He lunged for Spock relentlessly, forcing him across the arena floor and catching him again. This time on the back.

A shrill scream of pain escaped me when I felt the wound on my back. Both Vulcans' eyes were immediately on me. Hanesh eyed me hungrily. A smile on his lips as Spock realized with shock what was happening. Without a second's hesitation, Spock threw himself at Hanesh and lashed out with the dagger in his right hand. He narrowly missed, but instead his left hand hit Hanesh's thigh and slashed it across.

In his anger, Spock placed a foot on Hanesh's chest and kicked him across the arena. Slowly and fixated on his prey like a hunter, Spock followed Hanesh's path. His gaze was cold and full of hate. It was the first time I had seen him express his feelings so openly. Hanesh had now hoisted himself back to his feet and was standing slightly hunched over, balancing his weight on his right leg in front of Spock.

Both men breathed heavily and stared at each other for a few seconds, as if waiting for the other to react. Hanesh attacked again, but his movements were slow and uncoordinated. The wound on his left leg was bleeding crazy. Spock let him have his way, blocking his blows easily before pushing him away again. He assessed Hanesh again and watched as he staggered backwards. With an almost desperate scream, he lunged at Spock again, but he dodged the blades, turned around and sank one of his daggers up to the hilt into Hanesh's right shoulder.

All the breath I had been holding was released. And relief washed over me immeasurably. Without even meaning to, I rose from my seat and clutched the balustrade with my hands. Even from here I could hear Hanesh's rasping breath as he fought desperately against the blood that was slowly beginning to fill his lungs.

Hanesh raised his head and looked up at Spock. His eyes were full of pain and fear of what was about to happen. Pointing the dagger at Hanesh, Spock stepped behind him and turned him so that he was facing me directly. I put my hands over my mouth and stifled the sound that would otherwise have escaped me. Spock's entire posture was one of hatred. The otherwise loving eyes assessing me darkly, his hands trembling on Hanesh.

Only then did I notice the murmur that echoed through the stadium. Like a buzzing swarm of bees, the noise spread across the dusty square and filled the arena to the last corner. All that stopped as the chief minister rose from his seat.

He looked at Spock with an inscrutable look before speaking, "What are you waiting for?" End it.” But Spock shook his head. "No."

“No? It is your duty. Your responsibility to your K'diwa." L'Vor was visibly irritated by Spock's refusal. He just lowered his weapon slightly and looked at me. “Let my K'diwa decide. She is the injured party. She should do justice.”

“This is treasonous, Commander!” The Chief Minister let his booming voice echo through the arena. “A long time ago you swore to follow the Vulcan path. Now finish what you started. It is the law and not a game!”

Spock looked at him for a while before answering, "I also vowed to never become what my wife fears most. A violent man. She is the one who commands me. No minister, priest, or the law. If she demands, I will kill Hanesh. However, should she refuse, the execution of the sentence will be the responsibility of the executioner.” His gaze was icy and full of defiance directed at L'Vor. He took a visibly indignant breath before turning to me: “That’s how it should be. Decide.”

I looked at Spock impassively as I thought. Then I decided to ask him, "What do you want?" As usual, he didn't visibly react, but in my head, I heard his gentle voice: "Whatever you want." I suppressed a sigh. “You already said that. But that doesn't answer my question. Do you want to kill him?”

The answer came without any hesitation. “That and so much more. I want him to suffer. Make him feel what you felt before his miserable life seeps out of him. I want him to rot forever, disfigured beyond recognition, without ever finding peace. And even then, I will never be completely satisfied. He touched what was mine. Tried to destroy what is most sacred. No amount of torture in the world will ever make up for that.”

I felt that everyone's eyes were on me. I slowly sat up, my hands clasped behind my back, my gaze neutral. “Kal-tor wuh to-gav skil.” My words carried through the arena without difficulty. And before anyone could react, Spock slid his blade across Hanesh's body one last time.

His dagger slid through Hanesh's throat like a hot knife through soft butter. Without paying any further attention to him, Spock stepped back from Hanesh's body and simply dropped the daggers. However, I stared transfixed at the dark green waterfall that bubbled from Hanesh's neck. He had now tipped over and was twitching in his last fight. Over time, his convulsions became softer, his rattling breath slowed until he finally stopped completely. I took that as my sign.

Without waiting for any instructions or permission, I clumsily climbed over the balustrade and ran to Spock. I jumped into his arms with full force and clung to him. He reacted instinctively and wrapped me in a tight, sweaty hug. I tried my best not to touch his wounds, but I couldn't help but cling to him tightly and cry bitterly. All the tension that had built up in my body over the last few weeks had suddenly left me.

" Shhh, t'hy'la. It's over. He can't hurt you anymore." Spock's quiet voice in my ear calmed me down a little, but I didn't let go of him. Even when he tried to get me back on my feet, I remained clinging to his upper body. He just sighed and I knew he was wearing a smug grin.

Beside me, I heard several people approaching us and instinctively clung to Spock even tighter, but he remained relaxed and took a few steps to the side. And when I opened my eyes, I saw two Vulcans lifting Hanesh's lifeless body from the ground and carrying him away, while another collected the weapons and hung them neatly back in their place. “What will happen to him now?” I asked quietly and looked thoughtfully after the small group.

“He will be burned according to custom and buried in the desert.” Was the short answer I received. L'Vor's slightly arrogant throat clearing made me understand why. I wanted to climb out of Spock's arms, but this time he was the one who kept my feet from touching the ground. He adjusted my position with ease and then unashamedly let his hands rest on my thighs under my dress. Then he took long strides almost directly to the balustrade and looked the highest minister directly in the eyes. “Minister. It is finished. My task is done. I now wish to withdraw with my K'diwa."

"But of course. Nobody will bother you until you leave tomorrow. Live long and prosper.” L'Vor's voice was calm and firm, but by now I had learned quite well to perceive and interpret the Vulcans' slightest fluctuations. And by the way he spat out the salute at the end, I knew Spock had taken it too far.

But he didn't seem to be irritated in the slightest. Just as calmly, he returned the greeting: "Live long and prosper." He removed his right hand from my leg and raised it in the Vulcan salute, but instead of putting it back, he reached into the back of my neck and untied the only knot that tied my dress held together reasonably adequately. I wanted to lean back in shock and ask him what that was about, but Spock just held me close as he was dismissed from the arena with a mixture of Vulcan indignation and two human stifled laughs.

***

On the way to wherever, he finally allowed me to move. “You did that on purpose!” I hissed accusingly, but Spock just grinned sarcastically. "What exactly? I break a lot of rules because of you.”

“You…” I uttered and tapped him on the chest. “I’ll be known around town as the commander’s whore.” My feigned indignation didn’t seem to bother him in the least. Rather the opposite. As he carried me through the paths of New Vulcan, his grin grew wider and wider: "What a shame." He mused, looking at me diabolically. “And since you have now come to this conclusion yourself, I can tell you without a guilty conscience that you have already received this reputation from many.”

“Please what?” My face fell. “And since when have you had a guilty conscience? Normally you always insist on sharing news as quickly as possible because it's 'logical’." I drew marks in the air to further emphasize my indignation. By now we had arrived in front of Sarek's apartment. Spock had moved back in with his father after his mother's death, arguing that otherwise it would be a waste of space. Naturally…

He slowly let me slide to the floor and entered the apartment after me. It was a strange feeling to be here. Everything was so different from how I knew it on Earth and the Enterprise. The rooms were decorated in warm earth tones and only the most necessary furniture was available. However, I recognized some decorative elements that were obviously Amanda's style, and the fact that Sarek couldn't bring himself to not have them, gave me a little pang in the heart. It was rare to get a glimpse into the ambassador's emotional world, but when we did, it usually had to do with his late wife.

"That is correct." Spock simply continued the conversation. “My statement was just to annoy you a little. I only found out about your assessment today.” I turned to him and looked at him critically. “And what exactly does that mean? It will hardly be my clothes. I either wear my uniform or whatever traditional clothing was chosen for me.”

Now a small smile crept onto his lips. “It's not your clothes, t'hy'la. But your manners on how to speak and tendency towards body decoration probably makes one or two minds wander...” He winked at me and leaned with his back against the door, obviously waiting for something to click for me. “What…?” I looked down, confused. It was more by chance that my eyes landed on my fingers. I wore many rings... Then my hands flew to my ears. My piercings... And when I looked at Spock again, he looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh.

I put my hands over my mouth, “Oh my God… How bad is it?”

Still leaning against the wall, he let his eyes wander unabashedly over my body until he stopped at my hands. “Well… The most apt comparison would be to a sexy set of lingerie. And your piercings... I think the equivalent would be nipple piercings on Earth?" He slowly came towards me. I was still too stunned to even react to him. Only when his hands gently touched my shoulders and untangled the cords of my dress did I find my speech again: “And why did you let that happen? You could have warned me!”

With a quiet hum, Spock dropped the top two pieces of fabric onto my hips. Now I was standing half naked in front of him. His eyes were dark and hungry as he answered: “Why should I? There's nothing sexier than seeing what you inspire in other men and knowing that only I will ever have you." His hands went to my waist and untied the elaborate wrap that was still holding my dress to my body.

“And who cares what they say about you? The envy you inspire is what makes me happy. My entire childhood I was pitied for who I am. That part of me is human. And now I see all these oh-so-logical and controlled Vulcans talking about my wife. My human wife, mind you. They would never admit it, but they envy me. Envying what I have and how willingly you give yourself to me.” His voice was rough and full of hunger as he stalked around me like a predator circling its prey.

When he stopped behind me, I took a deep breath so as not to completely lose my composure. His warm lips were on my neck, kissing me in a hot trail up to my ear. “You are my whore and they know it. And that hits them harder than anything else. A human who took control of a Vulcan like that. They hate it. You are what they swore to suppress. Lust and desire. But they cant. And to see how blatantly I deal with it; how easy it is for me... It eats them up. That's why you won't change a thing. You will wear your jewelry with pride. I want everyone to see what you are to me. Do you understand?” He murmured in my ear and a shiver ran through me. "Yes, Commander." I whispered, barely able to contain the excitement in my voice. But a knock on the door ripped us out of our little bubble.

"Spock? It's Bones. Yes, I know, I'm probably interrupting your little victory celebration, but I've come to look at your wounds." Bone's muffled voice came from the other side of the door. I looked at Spock in fear, but he just smiled diabolically: “You will go to the bathroom. Kneel in front of the shower and wait for me.”

***

POV Spock:

I waited until Lucy disappeared into the bathroom and took a few deep breaths to clear my head. Then I opened the door and let Doctor McCoy in. He looked around the apartment curiously, but I pulled his attention back to me before he saw too much: “You are correct in assuming you are disturbing us. I'd rather have you hurry up." McCoy gave me a reproachful look. "In moments like these, I seriously wonder what Lucy sees in you." His voice sounded angry as he set about cleaning and healing my wounds.

"Lucy certainly appreciates my efficiency, unlike you, Doctor." I suppressed a growl as he pressed a little harder on the cut on my back. "Well, for the sake of your marriage, I sincerely hope you'll put aside that idea of efficiency in the bedroom, Commander." Doctor McCoy growled.

“You can be sure of that.” Was all I replied before turning back to him with a slight grin on my lips. McCoy looked like he was about to implode and to my surprise he managed to keep his usual emotions under control: “Try not to push yourself too hard for the next few days. They are purely superficial wounds and I am relatively confident that they will not cause any further problems. But better safe than sorry.”

“Of course, Doctor.” I replied, getting up from my spot on the sofa to escort him to the door. Relieved to be able to leave the situation, Doctor McCoy strode forward to the door and literally flung it open. But before he left, he turned to me again: “I may have misjudged you, Commander. But after today... Seeing how much you're willing to risk... You have my uttermost respect and maybe we'll be able to put our differences aside at some point. “Assuming you stop being an ungrateful know-it-all.” He added.

I held back a smile and tilted my head. “I understand how difficult it must be for you to express your respect. But I also have to admit that your work on the Enterprise should not be underestimated." Then I simply pushed him out the door and left him to his thoughts.

The whole time I was just thinking about her kneeling naked and waiting for me and I practically ran for the bathroom.

***

POV Lucy:

I knelt on the warm tile floor in front of the shower, as Spock had ordered me to do. On the other side of the door, I heard the muffled conversation between Spock and Bones, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Some time later the door opened and Spock stood in front of me. My eyes immediately went to the place where there had been a bleeding wound just a few minutes ago. Now a thin pink line adorned his chest and probably his back as well.

He looked at me for a few moments as if he had to catch himself before entering. With his finger he motioned for me to come to him and I followed as quickly as I could. “Good girl.” He whispered close to my ear. “You will lie on the floor in front of the shower with your legs wide apart. And if I tell you to touch yourself, you'll do exactly what I want you to do, got it?" I nodded breathlessly, but that didn't seem to be enough for him because he grabbed me hard by the chin and shook my head. “Words, little one.”

"Yes, Commander," I breathed, receiving a satisfied growl. Then he pushed me away slightly and took off his clothes. As if mesmerized, I stared at his muscular body and let my gaze roam over him. As I expected, he was hard, and the evidence that the whole thing was affecting him the same way made me want more.

“What did I just say?” He growled, looking at me with dark eyes. His gaze broke me out of my paralysis and I sank to the ground. I quickly descended into the position he asked of me, my hands folded neatly on my stomach. Spock looked at me and slowly walked towards me. He stood over me with his legs apart. "Good girl. Why do you always need a prompt first?” His question was rhetorical. He knew exactly what effect his behavior had on me.

I shuddered under his hard gaze and didn't take my eyes off him as he naturally got into the shower and began to wash the red paint, sand, and sweat off himself.

The whole time he didn't take his eyes off me. I felt his gaze cause the familiar fire in my core beginning to blaze. Because of our connection, it didn't take long for Spock to realize this and he looked between my legs with a grin. “Look at you… All this without even touching you at all. Come on, little one. Give in. Show me what you would do if I didn’t exist.”

My jaw almost dropped to the floor. What the hell had happened to Spock? Not that I had anything against it, but where on earth did he get all this matter-of-factness?

“Do I have to repeat myself?” He hissed, splashing some water on me to get my attention back to him. But when he read in my mind why I was distracted, he let out a satisfied growl. “It’s my nature, little one. And the more time I spend with you, the harder it is to control that. I know you said I shouldn't, but if I didn't, I wouldn't get anywhere except taking you in every position imaginable."

I moaned softly at his words and let my hand wander between my legs. I collected my moisture with my fingers and spread it everywhere. Spock's gaze was immediately focused on my middle again. “It seems to me that the thought would satisfy you rather than disturb you. Interesting.” Guided by his words, I began to stroke myself. I let my fingers slide over my most sensitive spot again and again and didn't hold back the twitches it caused.

But when I wanted to push a finger into myself, Spock interrupted me: “Stop!"

I opened my eyes and stared at him in surprise. His breathing was heavy. He had his hands pressed convulsively against the wall. His cheeks and ears were covered in a green complexion, while red paint from his body mixed with the water and disappeared gurgling down the drain. Knowing full well that I would probably regret it, I looked deep into his eyes and sank the first finger into me. A second followed just a little later. Now I began to unabashedly massage my walls while with my other hand I spread my moisture over my clit and stimulated it in gentle circles.

I guess I was lucky that Spock was more or less trapped in the shower, because the look he gave me chilled my bones. He looked like he was ready to jump on me at any moment and take what he wanted. "T'hy'la…" he uttered, turning off the water.

Ignoring his objection, I just looked at him and gave in to the pulling feeling inside me. My knees fell to the side, my back arched and I knew I was close to coming. I pulled my fingers out of myself, looked at them briefly, then put them in my mouth while my left hand continued to bring me to an orgasm. Before I had even licked my fingers clean, my orgasm hit me with the crashing force of a derailed train.

Spock's name was on my lips as my moans rang through the room. Sharp bolts of lightning shot through my body and I subconsciously felt myself twitching on the ground. Everything in me tensed up and then lost all strength and stability.

Strong hands on my arms pulled me off the ground and then forced me back to my knees. This time on wet ceramic. A hard grip on my chin forced me to open my eyes and I looked into the dark eyes of my Vulcan. I should have been scared. Begging him not to hurt me, but the anger with which he looked at me shot straight between my legs and I felt myself becoming aroused again. “Open your mouth!” Came the cold command and I did as I was told.

He didn't give me any freedom of movement. Easily held my head while he pushed his member down my throat. He began to fuck my mouth ruthlessly. His thrusts were hard and controlled, forcing me to gag, but I managed to suppress the urge to vomit. “I warned you, little one. Forbid you to finish it.” He growled. "And what are you doing? Disobeying my instructions like a naughty child. Forcing me to punish you.” I moaned with my mouth full and closed my eyes in pleasure. His words were just too wonderful not to enjoy.

“Look at me!” A sharp pain shot through my cheek and my eyes opened again. I actually expected his punch to make me flinch, but the opposite was the case. My body was screaming to be hit again. So, I closed my eyes, not without first giving him another wink.

I immediately felt his hand land on my cheek again. And this time I didn't hold back. I let out a strangled sound and clutched the hand holding my head. "Don't tell me you like this..." Spock muttered in shock, jerking my head back so I could respond. I looked away guiltily. "I do… More than I should…"

“Fuck…” His grip on my hair tightened and something between a growl and a moan shook him. But he got himself under control again pretty quickly. He pulled me to my feet and looked at me for a moment. "Maybe the others were right after all... You're a little whore who wants to be used, aren't you?" Without thinking about it, I played along in his game: "Yes, Commander. Please…"

“Please what?” He asked. “What do you want, little one?”

“I want you to use me. I want to be your little whore. That you take me at your will, please, Commander.” I begged, looking at him with wide eyes. My answer made him hesitate for a moment, but then he pushed me in front of him right into the sink faucet in the bathroom. He arched my back, forcing me to look at him through the reflection. “Are you sure?” Concern flooded my mind, but I was sure. “Absolutely, Commander.”

He didn't need to be told twice. Without giving me any warning, he pushed my legs apart with his knee and thrusted into me. I cried out in shock as I was stretched so unexpectedly, but Spock didn't react. He forcefully pushed my hips into the position he wanted and held me tight. "If you're going to test my patience, then you should be able to live with the consequences." He growled in my ear and set a reckless pace. “You will take what I give you. And don't you come again without my permission, understand?"

"I... I'm sorry, Commander." I whimpered, trying to escape his hard grip. Tears formed in my eyes and ran down my cheeks. But he didn't even think about giving me any chance. "Good girl. Apparently, it helps to put you in your place.” When his cock hit me as deeply as he always held it back, I bucked up again. “Stay here, damn it. You know your safe words. Red Yellow. Green. I will treat you the way you deserve. So don’t expect me to feel sorry for you just because you’re crying.” He hissed close to my ear, arching my back further with a strong tug on my hair.

The resulting angle allowed him to take me deeper and more intimately than usual. His grip kept me on my toes while my hands tried to hold my upper body in the position he wanted me to. It was anything but comfortable, and yet it gave me a kind of release I had never experienced before.

“I love you.” He whispered in my ear and kissed my neck. "More than anything in the world, you hear me?" I whimpered in response and pressed myself closer to him, too overwhelmed to speak clearly. Until now, I had not realized how much Spock's dominance turned me on and how much my body responded to being so desired. “You are the most important thing in the universe to me and I will always protect you. No one will ever be able to harm you again, I promise.”

His words triggered a strong wave of emotions and I began to cry uncontrollably as my body continued to respond to his touch. The difference between relief and excitement completely threw me off course. My arms and legs gave out and my whole body began to tremble. But it wasn't trembling out of fear. I was shaking because my synapses were completely overwhelmed by what I was hearing and feeling. "Spock... I... Please..." Unable to formulate a straight sentence, I tried to make him understand that I wanted to come.

Luckily, Spock understood what I wanted from him and loosened his tight grip. He slowly lowered my upper body onto the faucet and stroked my back. “Come, K’diwa. Come for me." As soon as he said the words, my orgasm shook me to the core. I screamed his name, tried to find somewhere to hold onto, but there was nothing. Just Spock holding me, drawing gentle shapes on my back. I was his instrument and he played me as he pleased. I laid beneath him, twitching and trembling, my head full of confused feelings and things I wanted to say but was unable to formulate.

And Spock didn't seem to have had enough. His thrusts kept the same pace as before, the grip of his hand still hard on my hip. But when I was finally able to open my eyes again and look at him in the mirror, I saw that he was also much more worn out than he first indicated. A strained crease had formed between his eyebrows. The ears glowing dark green, biting his lower lip.

The way he held back for me sent new desire through my body and I reached blindly for his free hand. Without really thinking about it, I brought it to my neck and placed it firmly around my throat. Spock looked at me wildly and only raised an eyebrow. I nodded and closed my eyes in pleasure as he slowly grabbed my neck.

“Oh God…” I gasped as the familiar tingling sensation spread through my body and the throbbing in my head grew stronger. At varying intervals, Spock cut off my air and let me breathe again. This meant that my field of vision began to rotate and I felt like I was perceiving everything more intensely. In addition to the hand on my neck, he released my hips and placed two fingers on my most sensitive spot. I jumped back in shock, but he just left it there and looked at me.

With his eyes fixed on me, he began to paint circular movements on my clit and watched with a fulfilled grin as I began to twitch and spasm around his member again. “Fuck… How I love this.” He murmured, lost in thought. “How I love how your body reacts to me. How you twitch under me without even having a chance to avoid me. Just thinking about it makes me hard and makes me want to fuck you. And I know that in a moment like this, all I have to do is give a quick command and you'll kneel before me, ready to take what I give you..."

I whimpered against his hand and tried to press myself even closer to him. But he held me back. “Take it easy, little one. Trust me.” And I did. I let him guide me completely and just focused on the feelings he made me feel. The hot ache in my core slowly spread. Flowed down to my fingers and toes. I clenched around his member in a bout of renewed oxygen deprivation, causing him to momentarily lose the rhythm of his fingers.

He too was visibly influenced by what he did to me and, accordingly, to us. His breathing was now so shallow that I wondered how he was still able to take me so powerfully. Although his movements had lost their methodical rhythm, his member still hit my sweet spot and, in conjunction with his fingers on my clit, drove me further and further towards the abyss. When he removed his hand from my neck once more, I let him know in a strangled voice that I was close: “Spock... I can't take it anymore. Please…let me come…”

“Look at me.” He demanded, ignoring my words. I turned my head to the side and looked at him. A tap of his fingers on my lips made me open my mouth. He slowly pushed his middle and ring fingers into my mouth and watched as I gagged on them. Only when he had sunk it up to his palm did he nod with satisfaction. “Now, K’diwa. Come for me one last time.”

I closed my lips and sucked on his fingers with pleasure, letting my orgasm wash over me. Whimpering and twitching, I came for the third time. My body was completely drained. I collapsed weakly and only Spock's arm around my waist kept me upright. In the edge of my mind, I noticed him twitching and pouring himself into me and then leaning over me. Gentle kisses on my back brought me back to reality.

"Thank you, T'hy'la." Was all he said before he carefully pulled out of me and let me sink to the ground. I just laid there and didn't answer. But I didn't have to. I knew that Spock knew how much I loved him.

I watched Spock neatly fold our clothes and place them in a woven basket. Then he wetted a rag and knelt in front of me. He gently began to clean me and then wiped away the remaining traces. When he turned around and opened a cupboard, I frowned.

But he pulled out two long tunics, threw one over himself and then knelt in front of me again. "Come here, little one." he said gently, holding out his arms to help me. I let him pull me to my feet and just stood there while he dressed me. Then he took me into a warm, long hug. “I love you, T'hy'la. Forever.” I replied softly against his chest, “I love you too.”

“Can you walk?” He asked out of nowhere and I shook my head. "I don't think so." My answer made him smile. He took a step back, placed his arms at the back of my knees and under my shoulders, and lifted me effortlessly. I was far too dazed to even react and allowed myself to be carried out of the bathroom without protest.

It was only when we were standing in the living room, where Sarek was sitting naturally on the sofa, his nose buried in a book, that I realized my surroundings. Panic and embarrassment rose within me and I felt myself turning red. But neither Spock nor Sarek seemed to react much to the unpleasant situation. Sarek put down his book and looked at us for a moment: "Am I correct in assuming that your retreat went pleasantly?"

My jaw dropped at his words, but Spock was quicker to find an answer than I was. "Indeed, father." Sarek just nodded and was silent for a while before continuing: "The people are talking, Spock."

“I know what they are talking about, father. And I don't care." Spock interrupted him and lifted his chin cockily in the air. Sarek just smiled. “I know, sa-fu. You have always followed your own path. Although, I must point out that your behavior in the arena today was marked by emotions. Your mother would be proud of you.”

I saw Spock smile slightly at his father's words. “Well, Lucy is my wife. My K'diwa. To expect anything else would be illogical.” With that he walked to the door, still carrying me in his arms. Without really paying attention to our surroundings, Spock carried me to the appointed meeting point. Jim and Bones were already waiting and I wondered who had summoned them. But Jim just raised an eyebrow and tapped his PADD while Bones shook his head with a smile.

“Well then… off to new adventures.” Jim said and looked at us. "Our next mission will be a five-year reconnaissance mission and I swear, if I'm informed that the first Enterprise baby is going to be born during it, I'll throw you out in an instant."

His words made us all laugh and Spock cocked his head. “Don’t worry in that case we’ll call it James.”

#fem reader #smut #star trek #spock #commander spock #spock x reader #spock smut

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indeedcaptain · 3 months

Text

Regulatory Relations, chp. 18: the vulcans

hello!! sorry i said this would be short and quick and it's six weeks late and almost 15K!! i'm full of shit and too many words!!

throwback to the very first chapter: the amazing @endyillustration drew another scene of RR!! That you can see and ooh and aah over here!

this is posted on ao3 here. 2 chapters to go, folks!!

☆☆☆

Blink.

Kirk woke up, woozy and weak, as the shuttle touched down in the familiar hangar bay of the Enterprise. His head spun as he fought to make sense of the movement. He was strapped to the wall of the shuttle, and at some point during the flight Chapel had cut through his blood-stained shirt to suction rehydration packs to his arm and stomach. Scotty and Crovath leapt from the cockpit, and Christine was on her knees as she gestured to someone out of his frame of vision. The familiar roar of one Leonard McCoy in full surgeon mode rang through the hangar as he shouted instructions.

Kirk tried to lift his arm as four med staff slid a stretcher under Spock’s supine body. Don’t take him from me, he tried to say, as they pulled Spock away and ran with Bones at their head to the lift. But his mouth wasn’t working, and his hands didn’t cooperate. Christine floated into his field of vision as the lift doors closed between him and Spock. He blinked at her, trying to focus. She looked concerned.

He thought she said “captain,” but he wasn’t quite sure. Then he slipped back into darkness.

Blink.

Kirk opened his eyes to the faint illumination of Medbay at night. Above him, the biobed monitor thrummed to the beat of his heart, his blood pressure and oxygen rate hovering at normal human levels. He experimentally shifted his hands and feet, and found that one hand and one ankle were encased in humming bone knitters. His body ached, but nothing felt as though it were still broken. He reached up with his free hand, feeling an IV in the crease of his elbow, and prodded at his face. There was a regeneration pad over his head as well--- he must have had some concussion.

Where was Spock?

He had only just made the decision to remove himself from the knitters and pull out his IV when Christine slipped silently past the curtains around him.

“Good evening, captain,” she said, and smiled knowingly at him as he froze with his hand poised over the controls of the knitter.

“Good evening, nurse,” he said, and his voice came out as a whisper. His throat ached. Christine adjusted the bed so he could sit up slightly, and helped him to drink water before adjusting the bed back down.

“You need to sleep more,” she said. “When you wake up again, you can see him.”

“I want to see him now,” Kirk croaked, but Christine shook her head.

“I know, sir.” She picked up the controls to the IV. “But you need to rest. I’m going to give you something to help you sleep, and you can see him in the morning.”

A wave of exhaustion hit him even before the sedative had leached into his bloodstream. He felt his eyes drooping shut as he said, “But he’s okay?”

“I promise, captain,” Christine said, and the world around him faded to black again.

Blink.

Kirk lay flat on his back on the biobed, the curtains still pulled around him for privacy, but the bone knitters and the regen pad had been removed at some point. The lights had fully come on, and he could hear the bustle of an active Medbay out beyond the flimsy fabric barrier: nurses calling to each other, Bones’s drawl and Christine’s deep and throaty sass in response, and the ever-present beep and hum of occupied biobeds. Before he could even think about tugging at the IV in his arm, Bones slipped past the curtain and perched himself on the side of Kirk’s bed. For a second he reached out as if he might remove the IV immediately himself, but his hand stuttered midair. He lay it on Kirk’s arm instead and squeezed tightly. They sat in silence until Kirk struggled into a sitting position and laid his hand over Bones’s.

“Jimmy,” Bones said, and his voice was gruff. He looked away to stare blankly at the wavering curtain in front of them, and took a steadying breath before looking back at Kirk. “You know I love you like my own brother, right?”

“Yes,” Kirk managed, around the sudden tightness in his throat.

“When Spock came back to the Enterprise without you, and he landed on that pad eight seconds from bleeding out for good, all I could think about was that you were still down there. I thought you might have finally been out of miracles. And I couldn’t remember the last time I had ever said that to you.” Bones inhaled harshly, his breath sticking. “I told myself if--- when you came back, that was going to be the first thing I said.” He cleared his throat and wiped his free hand roughly across his eyes.

“I love you too, Bones,” Kirk said softly, and Bones patted his hand before clearing his throat more aggressively.

“Everything all told, your body is in pretty good shape. Mild concussion, fractured ankle, broken thumb, aggressive dehydration, general bumps, bruises and chafing from restraint. But all the tests in the galaxy can’t tell me how you’re doing after something like that.” He tapped his forehead before meeting Kirk’s eyes again.

Something belatedly occurred to Kirk. “Where is she? The woman we brought back.”

“She’s in the brig under round-the-clock supervision. Jim, who is that?”

Kirk closed his eyes before responding. “That’s her. That’s my security officer.”

Bones let his breath out in a slow hiss. “Good goddamn,” he said quietly. “After all this time?”

“She’s the head of Section 31.”

“No,” Bones said, eyes widening in horror. “The shuttle off of Kindinos?”

“There to make sure the dilithium got back to Earth shipyards,” Kirk said. His mind started to spin with the questions he needed answers to, the return of the burden of leadership on top of the residual pain from Elise and the neutralizer. He was vaguely aware that his heart rate was increasing when Bones’s eyes flicked to the monitor over his head.

“That can all wait, Jim,” Bones said. “Pike and Sulu have it under control. You’re on medical leave until you and I decide otherwise.” Kirk let his head sag for one second before asking, half-afraid of the answer, “Spock?”

“Healing now,” Bones said immediately, and he felt a wave of relief.

“How did you… how was he even upright long enough to come get me? I thought he was going to —“ Kirk’s throat closed as he remembered the spray of blood across his shirt, its warm stain across his palms as he lowered Spock to the ground.

Bones shook his head even as an unwilling smile tugged one corner of his mouth up. “I have never seen this before, and I doubt I ever will again. But we got him into surgery and were sewing him up when that stubborn bastard pulled himself out of whatever Vulcan mind hole he was in. When he grabbed my wrist, I thought the attending was going to faint. No regenerator, he says. It would take too long. Steady as you please he asked how familiar I was with pre-warp Earth combat medicine. I’m not, but Chapel is, and she got where he was going immediately.”

“Staples,” Kirk said, half-horror, half-wonder.

“Staples,” Bones agreed. “We cauterized what we could and Chapel sewed and stapled what we couldn’t, and then he staggered off my table to the bridge. Chekov had been calculating where the shuttle could have gone to when it left Kindinos, and Uhura was listening to everything coming out of those directions, when she found something that shouldn’t exist.”

Kirk’s eyes widened, his appreciation for the genius of his crew expanding in his chest, as Bones said, “She heard a dead spot in the middle of all the noise. So we focused there, and then she started yelling. That’s when we got your message.” Bones smirked. “The only two people who overachieved enough at the academy to learn dead navigational languages are you two, and she pulled it out of nothing. Then Spock and security took the shuttle, and…” Bones shrugged. “I think the rest you know.”

Kirk slid back to lay against his headboard and stared at the familiar white lights of the Medbay ceiling. His mind swirled with questions, but what came out next was: “And the miners?”

“Security found them. They had a handful of losses, but we got almost all of them. They’re in the crew mess for now until we have orders for where to take them.” Kirk closed his eyes. They had Elise, and the miners, and Spock was alive. He sagged against the pillows.

“I want to see him,” Kirk said, and Bones did not need clarification to know who that referred to.

“Alright, Jim,” Bones said, “I want to warn you though… with how we put him back together the first time, it’s not going to heal clean. It’ll scar pretty bad.”

Kirk nodded, and with one more pat to his arm, Bones started removing the last IV. While his hands were busy, Bones said, very softly, “Jimmy, just because your bones aren’t broken anymore doesn’t mean you’re all fixed up.” He set the last IV aside and sat down again. “Did she…?” He gestured to Kirk’s head.

“No,” Kirk said. “She said some awful things, but she didn’t get to use the neutralizer on me.” He grinned, and it felt a little feral. “Not for lack of trying.”

“What did she do?”

Kirk inhaled, and thought through the things that had hurt the most: that she had pulled his family away from him, that she had locked him inside his head on purpose, that she had done the same to his kids. Bones watched him struggle for a moment before saying, “You don’t have to tell me now.”

Kirk looked down at his hands, now clean of the blood and grime of the day before, and nodded gratefully. “I don’t think there’s a single part of my life she hasn’t left a fingerprint on,” he said eventually. Bones squeezed his forearm and sat in silence with him for another moment. Then he led Kirk to where Spock was.

Spock lay still and pale in a private room, with the blankets puddled around his waist and his chest almost entirely covered in bandages. But his breathing was even and rhythmic, and his face was peaceful. Kirk pulled up one of the uncomfortable Medbay chairs to his bedside and watched him sleep.

It was not the first time that he had sat vigil next to a healing Spock. It wasn’t even the first time that Spock had been shot. But it was the first time that he could reach out and lift Spock’s hand from the bed to hold between his own. His skin was soft and dry, his fingers long and elegant in their stillness. Through the thin skin at his wrist he could feel Spock’s rapid heartbeat—Vulcan-normal, but rabbit-like to a human. Every beat of that steadfast heart pushed blood through his healing body, pushing him closer to consciousness and back to Kirk.

Kirk pulled his chair as close as he could get and cradled Spock’s hand in his lap. Here was the man who had pursued him ceaselessly; who slow-danced with him at their wedding and lied to the Admiralty for him and leapt headfirst into his worst memories with him. Here was the man whose unflagging faith in Kirk’s character and abilities had pulled back the curtain of his shame to reveal a conspiracy so deeply hidden beneath the floorboards of the Federation that, without his uniquely curious mind and his love for Kirk, would have gone unchallenged for the rest of the survivors’ lives. Here was, Kirk thought with a little jolt of recognition, the love of his entire goddamn life. Here was his husband.

Kirk sat, looking on Spock’s gentle sleeping face with a tired muted glow of joy, until he felt Spock’s hand twitch in his. He hoped that he was only sleeping and not in a trance, because he didn’t think he could bear to strike Spock at the moment, but he needn’t have worried. Over the course of the next two minutes Spock floated gently towards consciousness, twitching as his body reconnected to his mind, until his hand squeezed surely around Kirk’s.

Then his eyes opened, and he turned his head and met Kirk’s smile with a very tiny upturn of his own lips. “Jim,” he breathed.

“Hey, you,” Kirk said, and clutched Spock’s hand in both of his. He slid one hand up Spock’s arm, avoiding the bandages at his shoulder, to wrap around the back of his neck, and he stood up out of his chair to press his forehead to Spock’s. He felt, more than heard, Spock’s tiny hum of pleasure. He stood there for a moment, breathing in time, before Spock tilted his head slightly back in invitation.

Kirk pressed his lips to Spock’s. He released Spock’s hand to cup the back of his head and kiss him more deeply. He traced his thumb along Spock’s jaw as he pulled back, and Spock’s hand came up to run along his arm. He sat down on the edge of the bed as carefully as he could, and pulled Spock’s hand to his face to press kisses to his knuckles.

“Bones told me what you did,” Kirk said. There were delicate purple-green bruises beneath Spock’s eyes, and he could see discoloration from the wound creeping up over his shoulders, up his neck. He adjusted the blankets around him to pull them up further over Spock. “I--- I owe you everything.” He searched Spock’s face, and found nothing other than acceptance and comfort. Spock’s hand squeezed his.

“You owe me nothing,” Spock said. His other hand came up, lightly running over the dense layer of bandages before resting close to Kirk’s hip. “It was freely given.”

I have nothing to give you in return, Kirk thought, but that was not quite true. Spock had never asked for anything other than himself; just him, Jim Kirk, honestly and completely. The thought had terrified him. He had once believed that Spock’s respect and friendship were conditional, based on his persona of the infallible captain. But if he were to think back, since their marriage and really since the start of their friendship, he would find that it had never been true.

“Elise asked me why we had not bonded,” Kirk said, and Spock’s attention sharpened on him. “I told her… I told her that it was because I was afraid of you seeing how difficult things still were for me. That I didn’t want you in my head full-time, because it would hurt you.” Spock tilted his head slightly, his hair dragging against the pillow behind him. His eyes were gentle. “And that was true, before this became real. When we were still pretending.” Kirk pressed Spock’s hand between both of his. “But now, I…”

His voice caught in his throat. He was not in the habit of vulnerability; it would take more than three days for that to change. But this was something he could give his husband; himself, whole and unguarded. He cleared his throat and tried again. His voice came out in a whisper.

“I didn’t know that there was a future that involved telling you everything. But now, if you want this, if you don’t mind waiting… I want to try.” He kept his eyes trained on Spock’s hand in his before he dared look up at him.

The naked, undisguised love on Spock’s face almost flattened him. Spock struggled to sit up, but Kirk slid closer to him, pressing him gently back down by one shoulder.

“Rest,” he urged. “Please.” He planted one hand on the other side of Spock’s torso so he could lean over him, looking down at him. Spock submitted to remaining supine, but raised his hand to rest his palm against Kirk’s cheek.

“It would be my most profound honor to be your bondmate,” Spock said. Kirk ran his thumb along Spock’s cheekbone and remembered how it felt to know, even beneath the isolating brutality of the neutralizer, that he was so completely loved. “But, Jim, we could reach the end of our lives together without bonding and I still would have spent my years exactly where I wished to be.”

Kirk pressed his hand to Spock’s, holding it against his face, and closed his eyes as the engine of his determination roared to life in his chest. It was curious, how that happened: Spock giving him permission to never be ready made him one hundred percent certain that he would be someday.

“I need a little time to take out what Elise put in,” Kirk said, and turned his head to press a kiss to Spock’s palm before lowering his hand to his chest. “But then I want to be your bondmate.” The corners of Spock’s eyes crinkled, and Kirk took a breath to just absorb the moment: together again on the Enterprise, both of them gloriously alive and safe and in love. Then he leaned back, frowning dramatically, and tapped one finger against the back of Spock’s hand.

“Mr. Spock, if you ever do something so reckless with your own life ever again, I’m throwing you in the brig,” Kirk said.

“Could you clarify to which actions you refer, captain?” Spock’s voice was tired, and his eyelids were beginning to droop, but his tone was playful.

“Let’s start with pulling yourself out of a healing trance and allowing Christine Chapel to literally staple you back together.”

Spock said, “Those are two separate actions, sir, and only one of them technically---” Kirk groaned, smiling so wide his cheeks pinched, and stopped Spock from litigating the point any further by kissing him instead.

He sat on the side of Spock’s bed, holding his hand, until Spock dropped into an easy sleep. Then he kissed his forehead, placed his hand gently on his stomach, and went to talk to Bones again.

Bones was in his office, chewing a hole in his lip as he drafted the incident report on Spock and Christine Chapel’s medical misadventures.

“I didn’t know Chapel was a surgeon,” Kirk said as he claimed the seat across from Bones, slinging one leg over the other.

“She’s not,” he grumbled, and with a few more clicks turned away from his console. “But she was a combat nurse in the war, and she knows more ways to put someone back together in a hurry than God himself.” He shuddered before turning to give Kirk his full attention. “Spock alright? We heard him wake up but figured you could use the privacy.”

“Thank you,” Kirk said, touched by the consideration. “He’s good. He’s really good.”

“Yes, he is,” Bones said, and suddenly they were no longer talking about his physical prognosis. “It takes a rare kind of man to do what he did.”

“I know,” Kirk said. He wiped his hand over his mouth as he parsed through everything he wanted to say. He settled for, “Without him, I never would have figured out any of this.” He gestured vaguely around him, thinking about the last time he had been in this office: Spock peering over Bones’s shoulder at Kirk’s medical records, bringing the truth to light.

“Without him, you’d likely still be trapped on that ship,” Bones said.

“Without him, I never would have talked about Tarsus again. I would have gone to my grave with all of it still secret.”

Bones nodded, considering him. He asked carefully, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now,” Kirk said. “But someday, yes. I do. That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” He took a breath and pressed his hands to his thighs. Should he ask about a therapist on the ship? About post-trauma support? About pulling everything Elise ever taught him out of his head and starting over? “How much medical leave do I have?”

Bones raised an eyebrow, checking his console, and said, “Over six months. Seems you haven’t taken more than a day off since you were a lieutenant.”

Kirk said, “I’ll stay until we figure out what to do with Elise, and see Chris safely onward. But once we get the Kindinos mess sorted, I think I need to take it. I think… I might need a little time away to get my head on straight again.”

He stared at his lap for a minute before raising his gaze to meet Bones’s. There was something like pride shining out of the other man’s face.

“I think that’s a real brave idea, Jimmy,” he said quietly. “And Spock?”

“I’m going to ask him to come with me,” Kirk said. “I want…” He stared at Bones’s shelves over his shoulder, thinking about Spock in his quarters, Spock in his shower, Spock in his arms for the rest of his life. “I want to be bonded. I want to be his bondmate.”

There was no surprise in Bones’s eyes, only the slow and steady smile that creased every plane of his face. “I’m happy for you, Jimmy,” he said, and he turned back to his console. “I’m taking myself off duty.”

“Oh?”

Then Bones reached behind him, into the closed cabinet, and pulled out two glasses and the bottle of Georgia bourbon that he had brought to Kirk’s room on his wedding night. He leveled his gaze as he poured each of them a finger’s worth and slid a glass across the desk to Kirk.

“To Mr. Spock, your marriage, and your bonding,” Bones said, and lifted his glass. Kirk lifted his in turn. “May we all be so lucky.”

☆☆☆

Bones had forbidden him from doing anything even remotely duty-related for at least twenty-four hours (“Have you considered resting, man? Good God!”), and Spock was still asleep when Kirk left Bones’s office. He passed Chapel on his way out of Medbay, who said, “If you come back around 1600, I’ll show you how to change the bandages and we can release him to bedrest.” Kirk promised to return, and then departed.

Somehow it was technically Alpha shift again, and the ship hummed around him in its familiar patterns. Only two days had passed since he had beamed down to Kindinos with April and Spock. When he passed crewmembers in the hall, they gave him respectful nods and smiles or said things like, “Good to have you back, captain.” Even as he smiled back, it reminded him of the achingly empty eyes of the Section 31 crew. The warmth of the bustle of the Enterprise couldn’t entirely shake the coldness of that other ship from his bones. He wandered and counted down the minutes until Spock awoke again, until he could learn how to change the broad expanse of bandages and then take him back to their quarters and watch over him. He had the strange urge to spirit Spock somewhere secret, tuck him somewhere safe and hide him away from the rest of the galaxy until he was entirely whole again.

Somewhere in this ship, Elise sat behind a forcefield. One part of him wanted to go to her and demand an explanation: how did she come to believe the things that she did? Why him? Why his kids? A colder part of him just wanted to push her out an airlock and pretend none of it had ever happened. He let his feet take him to the bridge, and put both those ideas away. She would stand trial, as the leader of Section 31, for crimes against the Federation. Then, finally, it could be over.

The turbodoor slid open, revealing his beloved bridge crew at work. Scotty had temporarily removed the center chair, and instead added a stall that Pike could back his hoverchair into. Sulu and Chekov sat in front of him, Uhura behind, and the only difference was that Dr. Priyal Khan sat at Spock’s console, glasses dangling from one hand as she pressed her face to the sensors.

“Captain!” Uhura cried, and she jumped to her feet. Then the bridge was a flurry of movement as she flung her arms around him, and Sulu squeezed his shoulder and Chekov shook his hand. These people, he thought, near-drowning in their affection, unable to do anything but smile, embrace them, accept their ministrations, and try to make his gratitude heard over the hubbub. These people!

When things had settled slightly, and he had clapped Pike on the back and insisted that he maintain command if only so that Bones didn’t come up here to hypo him into submission, Pike and Sulu exchanged glances, and Sulu nodded.

“You have the conn, Sulu,” Pike said, and Sulu stood. He pressed a button in Pike’s chair-stall, and one of the walls swung down to create a chair for him to sit.

“That’s some engineering,” Kirk said admiringly as he followed Pike back into the turbolift. “It only took two days?”

“Scott said he’d been thinking about it since you got orders to ferry me and April around. He said that you play musical chairs with the conn enough that it only made sense that I would get involved.” Pike’s voice was gentle, amused. Kirk grinned.

“It’s true,” he said. “Having fun on your joyride with my ship?”

“She was mine first, you upstart,” Pike shot back. “I want to show you something. Deck six.”

When the lift doors opened, he turned down the corridor towards the crew mess. Kirk followed. There were more crewmembers than he expected milling around--- nurses and other Medbay staff, and Janice with her army and a stack of datapadds. She gave him a distracted smile as he passed, her eyes telling him how glad she was to see him even as she said to one of her minions, “I don’t care what the quartermaster said, we don’t know how long we’ll have these guests and we’re not letting them sit around in one set of clothing for God knows---”

Good old Janice. Even if he took every day of his six months of medical leave, as long as she was on the ship he knew things would keep running.

Then Pike opened the door to the crew mess. Inside was a yelling, laughing, arguing, eating, crying, sleeping mass of beings, all in standard Starfleet-issue clothing: miners of all shapes and sizes sitting on tables, leaning against walls, sprawled across the chairs. Some were being treated by his medical staff; some were hooked up to nutritional IVs; some were wrapped in shock blankets, sitting tiredly on the floor. But they were alive.

“We got there in time because of the decisions you made,” Chris said quietly, and his eyes were kind as Kirk pressed a numb hand to his mouth. “Go say hello.”

Kirk did. He walked into the mess hall, where he hadn’t been since his wedding reception, and the wall of sheer gratitude that he hit was overwhelming. The miners shook his hand in between physicals and meals, as they drank the horrible nutrition shakes that Bones loved to force on people. Kirk hadn’t even dared to dream that they would find so many alive after Dima Marcus’s desperate message.

And then there he was: Marcus sat at the end of one of the long tables, attached to an IV and under a thermal blanket. His face was still too sharp to be healthy, his hair patchy and thin, but his eyes were filled with a light that had been conspicuously missing in his vid.

“I’d stand up to greet you, captain, but I think Nurse Miguel might kill me if I do,” Marcus said.

“And undo all my work?” Miguel said, one hand on his hip. “Absolutely not!” But Miguel smiled, and Marcus shook Kirk’s hand, and then Kirk took the open seat next to him and looked out over the crowd. Pike parked next to them.

“Thank you, captain,” Marcus said, more quietly. “We didn’t think anyone was going to come. We were so far from everything but that one starbase… We had no hope that anyone would find us in time.”

“I was just paying it forward,” Kirk said, and in his mind’s eye he saw the crew of the Valiant in Kodos’s house. Marcus gave him a curious look, but didn’t press it. They sat together in silence until Miguel came back to change Marcus’s IV, and Pike and Kirk slipped out.

☆☆☆

Kirk went back to Medbay at 1600, and found Spock awake and sitting up, talking with Chapel.

“Oh, good,” she said, when she saw him. “It’s not hard.” She showed him the antibacterial cream to spread on the wound, and how to tape the bandages down. With Spock sitting up, Kirk was able to see that there was another mass of bandages on his back. The memory of phaser fire going straight through his chest nauseated him, but he didn’t look away.

Chapel peeled the tape away from the bandages to dispose of the soiled ones, and Kirk got his first look at the scars that would remain. Marring the previously smooth skin--- skin that he had pressed his hands to, his mouth to, just days ago--- was a mountain range of gray-green scab and scar. Like the deepest crater on Earth’s moon, there was a depression where the phaser had gone through him; it was the smooth baby-soft texture of regenerated skin. But around the wound, where Chapel had stapled it and Spock had torn it open again, ridges swirled.

“Oh, Spock,” Kirk whispered, and watched as Chapel used a sterile swap to apply the antibacterial. She reapplied the bandages and did the same on his back, and then helped him into a loose cotton shift.

“Ready to leave, Mr. Spock?” Chapel tucked the extra bandages, gel, and painkillers into a bag for him and retrieved a wheelchair from the corner of the room.

“Most certainly,” Spock said, and he took Kirk’s waiting arm to steady himself as he lowered down into the chair. Kirk took the bag of supplies from Chapel and the handles of the wheelchair.

“Call us if you need anything,” Chapel said, and Kirk nodded before wheeling Spock from Medbay, to the lift, and up to their quarters. Their quarters! Their shoes were still next to the door. Spock’s robes still hung in his closet. The little crinoid still fluttered in its eternal dance on the shelf, glittering in the sudden illumination from the hallway. He dimmed the lights, increased the temperature, and helped Spock up out of the chair. Once on his feet, Spock steadied. He braced his arms on Kirk’s shoulders and looked down at him, brushing their noses together. Kirk tilted his face up to him, feeling the warmth of Spock’s breath against him. A little more of the tension in Kirk’s heart faded.

“Can I have this dance, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked. Spock pressed their foreheads together in reply. They adjusted their arms until Spock was leaning against his shoulder, Kirk’s arm around his waist, Spock’s hand in his. He rocked them in tiny, gentle waves, mindful of any potential discomfort, but Spock seemed content to lean against him, breathing in his hair.

“I love you,” Kirk said. He pulled back to look up at Spock’s face. Spock pulled his hand from Kirk’s to slide it behind Kirk’s head, and kissed him without hesitation. They swayed in their quarters, Spock’s mouth warm against his, and Spock said against his lips, “I cherish thee, ashayam.”

Kirk put Spock into their bed after that, and insisted on fetching for him; it was a mark of Spock’s exhaustion and the damage he had endured that he did not argue about it. Kirk replicated dinner for them and brought it to him, and then set their dishes on his desk when they were done and climbed into bed beside him. Spock lay against his chest, slipping in and out of a meditative doze, until Kirk woke him up to change his bandages. Spock watched him as Kirk carefully pulled the bandages off and reapplied the antibacterial before taping new bandages on, and turned to allow Kirk access to his back to do the others.

Kirk pressed the last strip of tape down before he kissed the top of Spock’s shoulders, one after the other. Spock leaned back against him, and he wrapped his arms around Spock’s waist and held him for a few moments.

He situated Spock in a position that he thought he could sleep comfortably in, and then curled protectively alongside him. Spock slipped into sleep again in minutes, but Kirk laid awake for a while after that. In the 5% lighting of their quarters, he mentally traced the line of Spock’s profile, tracking the even cadence of his breathing, feeling his steady pulse under his hand.

Despite his earlier determination, the concept of taking extended leave from the ship unsettled him. The Enterprise was his home, and he did not want to leave. He turned the idea over in his mind, pulling apart the pieces. He pictured, instead of the interminable halls of a medical institution, a little apartment with a kitchen and a balcony. Maybe they could keep plants next to a sunny window and leftovers in the fridge. Maybe they could have a dining room table large enough to do puzzles on, and an extra room for Spock to play his instruments in.

It wasn’t something that he thought he would want forever; he couldn’t imagine staying in one place for more than a year before getting restless for the stars. But it might be tolerable--- even nice--- for a little while: to build a home with Spock while he rebuilt himself.

He fell asleep with that image in mind.

☆☆☆

Kirk had just replicated tea for Spock and coffee for himself, batting away Spock’s offer of help, when he received a vid-call from Pike.

“I’m sorry, boys,” Pike said. His eyes were serious. “We’ve received a message from Starfleet Command. I need you in the ready room.”

Spock refused the wheelchair, and instead they walked more slowly than usual to answer Pike’s summons. But they got there eventually, and Pike was waiting for them. He shut the door behind them, turned back to the viewscreen, and pressed play.

The image shuddered before resolving into the unsmiling face of Fleet Admiral Morrow. “Admiral Pike,” he said formally. “I hope you’re well.” He sighed. “This is unpleasant business. I know you’re out on the edge of Federation space, but we just got a memo from Admiral April that we’re deeply concerned about.

“He’s put a warrant out for the arrest of Captain James T. Kirk, for insubordination--- for disobeying a transfer of command. We can’t get a straight answer from April about where Kirk was supposed to go or Spock was going to be transferred with him. The timing is… certainly curious.” Morrow looked deeply uncomfortable, but he continued, “He’s to return to Earth for court-martial. You’re acting captain of the Enterprise. If you know anything about what Robert wanted from him, let me know, but in the meantime, keep Kirk where he’s supposed to be and head back this way.

“If at all possible, keep it close to your chest. I have enough questions about this whole mess that I’m not comfortable taking this public yet.” Morrow shook his head. “Bring him in, Chris, and we’ll get this sorted out. Morrow out.”

The video blanked out, and Chris turned to them. Kirk gaped at the screen. Court-martialed--- for disobeying Elise’s wish for him to captain her ship. He pulled a chair out away from the table and sank into it. Though April technically had the power to reassign an officer where he saw fit, if necessary, it was a power so rarely exercised as to be virtually forgotten. He hadn’t made that threat even to get Spock onto that research ship. So why now?

Chris said, voice kind but unyielding, “I’m going to help you, Jim, but I need the truth about what happened on and after Kindinos to do that.” He looked between Kirk and Spock. “Who is the woman sitting in the brig right now, and why did April not come back with you?”

“Her name is Elise Darling,” Kirk said. He swallowed hard. “She is a security officer with Section 31. She runs it, from behind April. She was assigned to me when I---”

Damn it. Damn it all. His throat clenched, trapping his words in his mouth, and a tsunami of nausea rose up within him. In his memory, Elise asked, Any loss of consciousness? His vision tunneled.

Spock’s hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder, pulling him back into his body, and Spock said, “She was assigned to Jim as an intelligence operative after Jim was rescued from Tarsus IV.”

Chris looked between the two of them. “Explain.” Kirk looked up at Spock, and Spock pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. Kirk nodded in response to Spock’s questioning glance, and Spock began.

“When Jim was a child, he attended a school for gifted children on the Federation colony Tarsus IV…”

Spock skipped a lot of the awful details, but he included the shuttle, his own surety that the famine was not caused by Fusilium, and the strangeness of Kirk’s post-Tarsus medical care. Kirk stared at his hands in his lap and listened absently. Of course Elise had a system in place to respond to a threat to her organization. He had been naive to think it was as easy as separating her from her ship. She had April, and April’s obsession with regulation; she had an entire intelligence and information operations division at her disposal. Revealing his hard-won truths about Kodos and Tarsus was going to be harder than just taking Elise to the admirals and crying, “She and 31 broke the rules!”

Spock fell silent after he came to Elise’s instatement as Kirk’s therapist at the Academy. Chris stared at them both, chewing on the inside of his lip, before he said, “That’s awful. What does that have to do with Kindinos, and how the hell did she end up in our brig?” Then he turned to Kirk. “Also, why is Spock telling your life story instead of you?”

Kirk took a breath. “I suppose we didn’t really have time for a debrief,” he said sheepishly to Spock. Then he picked up the thread from the moment they beamed down to the surface of the planet, to finding the tunnels, to April’s betrayal and everything he learned from Elise while on the Section 31 ship. Spock’s hands, clenched into fists in his lap, squeezed tighter and tighter until Kirk could hear his bones creaking. Chris’s face grew more and more slack, the ridged scars of his burn flexing and loosening.

“We left them there,” Kirk said. “Life support was still on, and April knew we were leaving. He let us leave. Why is he court-martialing me now?”

“He could not have stopped us from departing,” Spock said. “Not without an attempt to defeat five of us in hand-to-hand combat.”

“My God,” Pike said, voice low. “This is unbelievable.” He spun his chair from side to side, a nervous gesture that Kirk recognized from even before the accident. He raised his eyes to Kirk’s. “Son, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He stuttered, the voicebox freezing, before he started again. “But I still have to take you in. I can’t protect you from this summons. Not as an admiral. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” Kirk said. He inhaled. “Morrow was suspicious of it all. There has to---”

“I can,” Spock said suddenly. Kirk and Chris both turned to him.

“What?”

“I can protect you from the summons.”

Kirk stared at him. “If you say you want to go on the lam with me, I’ll say you’ve lost your mind entirely.”

“As my husband, you are entitled to the benefits and privileges of my clan,” Spock said. Kirk heard Chris suck his breath in sharply. “You can petition T’Pau for diplomatic immunity until we devise a way to challenge April’s case.”

Kirk’s heart skipped a beat. “Do you think she’ll agree?”

Spock nodded grimly. “Mental coercion and manipulation are the most egregious crimes in the Vulcan code of law. There is precedent for offering asylum to others based on such invasions. What Elise did to you, and attempted to do, would qualify you for protection. T’Pau granting immunity would give you permission to ignore the summons without risking further retaliation or endangering Chris’s position.”

“This could work,” Chris said. “Spock, thank you.”

“Your gratitude may be premature,” Spock said, and he was developing the expression that meant he was bracing himself to do something unpleasant.

“Why?” Kirk asked slowly, watching that expression spread over Spock’s face. Spock glanced at him.

“We will have to call my parents first and inform them of our marriage.”

Despite everything, Kirk laughed.

As they left, Spock allowing Kirk to help him up from his chair with a hand on his arm and his back, Kirk turned back to Chris, pensive and alone in the ready room.

“Congratulations, acting captain,” Kirk said. “Will you keep Sulu as your first?”

“That was my plan,” Chris said. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He did a good job with getting the miners off the planet.” Kirk nodded, proud. “Do you have a recommendation for science officers, though? I assume you’re taking my first choice with you.”

“I certainly hope to,” Kirk said, grinning, and felt Spock press his hand to his elbow.

“Dr. Khan,” Spock said, peering back through the doorway. “I believe she would make an excellent candidate.”

“Noted,” Chris said, and they let the door close behind them.

☆☆☆

Spock sat in the chair in front of Kirk’s console, and Kirk stood behind him, hands on his shoulders. The screen in front of them beeped and flashed as the comms relay strained to connect with Vulcan, lightyears and lightyears away from them. Spock’s breathing was controlled, but Kirk could feel the tension in his posture under his hands. The screen flashed once more, and then Amanda’s face appeared.

“Spock, my son. And Captain Kirk!” She spoke formally, but her eyes sparkled as she lifted the ta’al. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Greetings, Mother,” Spock said, and raised the ta’al. “I have a development to share with you and my father. And I would ask something of you. Is he at home?”

“No, Sarek is at the embassy today,” Amanda said, but her eyes flicked between Spock, Kirk, and his hand on Spock’s shoulder. She had lived on Vulcan for far too long for her facial expression to change without her permission, but Kirk could see her familial resemblance to Spock in the way that the corners of her eyes crinkled in that same not-smile. “Is the development of a personal nature, my son?”

“It is,” Spock allowed, and raised one hand to brush his fingertips across Kirk’s knuckles before dropping it back into his lap. Kirk felt him inhale before he said, “The captain and I have married.” Kirk smiled as Amanda’s face shifted from quiet pleasure to something a little closer to outright delight.

“Please accept my congratulations,” she said. “To the both of you. Na'shaya tor etwel maat, Captain Kirk--- welcome to our family. We would be honored to host you at your earliest convenience.”

“That takes me to my second point,” Spock said. Amanda read something in his tone, because she stilled. Spock said stiffly, “Nash-veh ya'akash wuh maat tor nam-tor ish-veh klashausu.” Kirk’s Vulcan was rusty, and he caught only two words: clan, or family, and guard. Amanda’s shock was visible. She looked between her son and Kirk again.

“I’ll call your father,” she said. The screen darkened as Amanda’s side of the call put up a ‘busy’ screen, and Kirk squeezed Spock’s shoulders, feeling the coarse line of the medical tape beneath his shirt.

“What did you ask her?”

“‘I ask the clan to be his guardian,’” Spock said, watching the console screen for his parents. “The only person who speaks for our clan in its entirety is T’Pau--- the decision will be hers. If she agrees, you will fall under Vulcan jurisdiction and be subject to Council law first.”

“So Starfleet couldn’t extradite me?”

“Not immediately,” Spock said. “Though we will need to formulate a way to challenge your court-martial.” He steepled his fingers in front of him, and his reflection in the screen was pensive. “There may be a formal process to do so. I will reach out to---”

The screen brightened and split into two, revealing Amanda on one side and Sarek on the other. Sarek’s face was as stoic as ever, his steely eyebrows two stark slashes across his lined face. He was unchanged since he had been a guest on Kirk’s ship.

“Father,” Spock said, as emotionless as the day he first arrived on the Enterprise.

“My son,” Sarek said, and Kirk blinked in surprise. He felt the slightest hitch in Spock’s breathing, quickly masked. Sarek’s voice was--- not kind, but a far cry from the iciness that he had embodied when he and Spock first saw each other on the Babel run. “My wife has informed me that you request the clan’s protection for Captain Kirk.”

“This is the truth,” Spock said. Kirk could practically hear the gears in his head turning as he sorted through what information Sarek would need to understand. “Captain Kirk’s mind has been…” He hesitated, before saying, “Tra' vesh' wuh ar'kadan tor nekwitaya vi' wuh kashek. She was unsuccessful, but the crime remains.”

Sarek’s face went entirely blank, in the same way that Spock’s did when he was hiding a profound reaction. Kirk didn’t know the Vulcan words that Spock had said, but the harsh syllables felt fitting for what Spock was describing. He suddenly felt very cold.

“We will give T’Pau our thoughts if she will hear us. I ask for time to prepare our response to this violation.”

“I will bring this request to T’Pau and deliver her response to you,” Sarek said.

“I am grateful,” Spock said.

Sarek nodded, and his arm moved as if he were going to end the call, before he paused. “Na'shaya tor etwel maat, Captain Kirk.” Then his half of the screen went black. There was a beat of silence as Amanda’s image grew to fill the screen again.

“Jim,” said Amanda. “Are you alright?” He had liked Amanda from the first time that they had met; he could do far worse, he realized, when it came to in-laws. The warmth in her voice, her genuine concern, leeched away some of the chill that had permeated his bones in the memory of the neutralizer. And Kirk had not known that Sarek’s frigid demeanor towards his son had thawed so since Spock had saved him. Perhaps having a reason to go to Vulcan would help heal Spock’s relationship with his family even further.

“No, but I will be,” he said, and he gave her a small but genuine smile as they ended the call. The screen dimmed again, and in the reflection Kirk saw himself and Spock, posed as if for a portrait. He bent down and pressed his lips to the silk of Spock’s hair.

“Opinion, Mr. Spock?”

“More cordial and helpful than I had expected, captain,” Spock said, and levered himself up out of the chair. His movements were less rigid than they had been the day before, but the stiffness of his shoulders and hips told Kirk that he was still in some measure of pain. Kirk ran his hand over Spock’s shoulder, careful to avoid the bandages. “What I wished to say earlier is that I would like to contact a former colleague of mine and discuss what countermeasures we may have at our disposal.”

Kirk narrowed his eyes. “Can you do it sitting, with a cup of tea, and without straining yourself?” Spock’s eyes glittered in amusement.

“I had intended to do so while exerting myself unduly,” Spock said, and Kirk groaned, wrapping his arms around Spock’s waist to gently push him in the direction of the couch. Spock allowed himself to be moved, their feet stepping in unison, until he was deposited in a seat. Kirk reclaimed that morning’s now-cold tea to be recycled.

“You are on medical leave as well, Jim,” Spock said, as Kirk fussed with the replicator. “You also ought to rest.”

“I’m going to have more rest than I know what to do with,” Kirk muttered. Spock cocked his head in question. Kirk handed him his tea and sat next to him, staring across the quarters at his computer console.

“I talked to Bones yesterday, before the message from Morrow came in.” He laced his hands in his lap to keep them from twitching. “Did you know I have over six months of unused medical leave?”

“I am not surprised.”

“I think I need to use some of it. I need time away from the constant---” and he waved one hand to encompass all that captaining the Enterprise entailed. “I need to clear my head.” Spock was silent for a moment. Then he set down his mug and reached instead to entwine his fingers through Kirk’s.

“Human therapists frequently work alongside the VSA due to its research in neurology,” he said. “If T’Pau accepts our petition, we will need time to build a case to both challenge your court-martial and bring evidence against Elise and Section 31.”

Kirk blinked. “What are you suggesting?”

“Seek help on Vulcan,” Spock said. His voice was quiet, rough like gravel. “Allow me the honor of caring for you while you do so.”

Slowly, Kirk slid down the couch to rest his head on Spock’s shoulder. Spock rested his cheek on Kirk, his cheekbone sharp against the crown of his head.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me,” Kirk said, after a moment. He felt Spock’s shoulder rise and fall beneath his cheek with his breathing as he considered his words.

“Be my husband and my friend,” Spock said. “It will be thanks enough.”

☆☆☆

There were a few things that Kirk needed to take care of if he and Spock were to leave the Enterprise for any period of time, but he found himself loathe to leave his quarters while Spock was still healing--- even if Spock was upright and conscious and likely growing a little sick of his mother-henning. Spock just watched him as he fussed about their quarters, reheating his tea unnecessarily before bringing him another blanket and the charger for his padd.

“Ping Chapel first if anything hurts.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And then me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll change your bandages. Don’t try to reach them yourself.”

“Yes, captain.”

“And---”

“Yes, dear,” Spock said. For two seconds Spock kept his face statue-still, but then he met Kirk’s eyes, and Kirk roared with laughter at the barely disguised mirth in Spock’s eyes.

“God, I love you,” he said desperately, and finally departed.

He stopped by Giotto’s office first. Sal was seated at his desk, poring pensively over a duty roster, and looked up as Kirk knocked lightly on the wall next to the open door.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure, captain,” Giotto said, and made to stand. Kirk waved him down and instead took the chair across the desk from him. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to say thank you,” Kirk said, and his eyes started burning. “Both for sending who you did to retrieve me, and for the improved comm. Without them, both Mr. Spock and I would be dead or as good as.” He swallowed hard. Giotto sat back, considering him, and then a knowing and crooked smile spread across his face.

“I’ve served under a lot of captains, sir,” Giotto said. “And I’ve never let one die yet. I wasn’t about to start with you.”

“I appreciate that,” Kirk said, and Giotto looked away politely as he scrubbed one hand across his face. “You’re too close to retirement to ruin your record now.”

“I’m glad you understand, sir,” Giotto said. “I think Miriam would make me sleep in the doghouse if I did.”

Kirk laughed. “Spock would do the same in her place, I think,” he said, and Giotto grinned in earnest. “What did the crew think of Suus mahna in practice? Going to keep it in the curriculum?”

Giotto launched immediately into his plan for expanding the skillset across the entire security team, thrusting the duty roster across the desk for Kirk to look over as he did so, and by the time that Kirk stood to leave, any lingering questions about the practicality of hand-to-hand training had been thoroughly squashed. Lieutenant Commander Salvatore Giotto, chief of security, had worked it all out.

With his hand on the door, Kirk said, “I haven’t told the rest of the crew yet, but I’m taking some time away after what happened.”

“We’ll be glad to have you back whenever you’re back,” Giotto said, and his voice brooked no argument. Kirk gave him one more nod and a grateful smile and slipped out.

Kirk went to Engineering next. He descended through the ship down into her heart, listening to the hum of the engines through the walls, and closed his eyes. He loved this ship. He loved this crew. Walking around, knowing that Pike was acting captain, that he might be leaving for an unknown period of time shortly, was uncomfortable in a way that he didn’t have words for.

The turbolift doors opened and revealed a busy Engineering bay--- people in red overalls bustling around the warp core, around the various auxiliary engines, and Scotty in the middle like the mad conductor of a genius symphony. The engineers he passed gave him nods or waves, but they were all too busy to stop for long. When he made it to Scotty, though, the chief engineer gave him just one look before excusing himself from his conversation and heading deeper into the bay. Kirk followed.

When they were alone, Scotty turned to Kirk. Kirk inhaled, ready to thank him, to explain that he would have lost everything he held dear without his ingenuity, but his words failed him in the enormity of what Scotty had done for him. He threw his arms around the engineer and hugged him. Scotty immediately hugged him back, patting him affectionately.

“I cannae tell ye how glad I am the blasted comm worked,” Scotty said mildly when Kirk released him. “It would have been a terrible show if my own invention had failed.”

Kirk laughed at the understatement. “After the comms and what you did to that ship’s engines, I don’t think there’s a single thing you couldn’t convince a machine to do.”

“Now, that was just a bit of fun,” Scotty said, and they turned to walk further into the shadows of the ship. They passed the area where Kirk had helped him replace wire covers when he had been hiding from Spock, and several Jeffries tubes that he had slid through in emergencies. “She was a beautiful ship, if a little uncanny. Too quiet for my tastes. I like a lady who sings.”

Scotty turned to lean against the wall and pulled a paper-wrapped sandwich from his coveralls. “Ham and cheese?”

Kirk nodded, grateful but confused at Scotty somehow having a pantry’s worth of food in his clothing at all times, and accepted half of the sandwich. They slid down the wall to sit and ate in silence. Scotty took the paper from him, crumpled it, and stuffed it back into a pocket in his coveralls.

“I think I’m taking leave,” Kirk said. Each time he admitted out loud to someone that he needed rest, needed something that his life on the ship didn’t allow for, it got easier to bear. “This last mission brought up some things that I need to work through.”

Scotty side-eyed him. “Does that have anything to do with the fact that I had to soundproof the brig because the woman in there kept bringing her guards to tears?”

“What?” Kirk looked sharply at him.

“She isn’t bothering anyone anymore,” Scotty said. “But that wicked woman is unpleasantly skilled at getting under the skin.”

Kirk grimaced. “It does, actually.” Scotty nodded thoughtfully.

“That one’s got coal where her heart ought to be,” he said, and Kirk nodded in agreement.

“That she does,” he said, and he felt that Scotty understood. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments more before Scotty got up and pulled him to his feet.

“We’ll see you when we see you,” Scotty said firmly. He clapped Kirk on the shoulder, smiled kindly at him, and led them both out of the bowels of the ship.

The last stop that Kirk made was in the lower quarters. He pressed the button for entry at Kevin Riley’s door and waited as he heard someone shuffling around inside. The door slid open to reveal Kevin, off-duty in Academy sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Can I come in?”

Kevin stepped backwards, and Kirk followed him in. Whoever he shared a room with was again absent, and the holovid playing this time featured two young people locking lips. Kevin blushed and shut the movie off when he noticed Kirk’s attention on it, and Kirk grinned. Then his smile faded as the door slid closed. Kevin said, “How can I help you, captain?”

“I’m not here as your captain,” Kirk said. When Kevin’s eyes met his, Kirk could still see so clearly the child he had been. How could he have managed to stay away from Kevin for three years? How could he have ever thought that isolation was better than having each other, for either of them?

Kirk told him everything: from showing Spock what had happened on Tarsus, to Spock’s hypothesis, and then everything that Elise had revealed. At some point in the telling, he and Kevin sat on Kevin’s bed, both staring ahead at the wall. Kirk could feel the bony point of Kevin’s shoulder against his. He even told Kevin that he and Spock would be leaving, with Kevin’s promise not to tell the rest of the junior crew until it was official.

“I’m going to bring her to justice,” he finished. “I just don’t know how yet.” Through their contact Kirk could feel Kevin breathing; it seemed like he was counting in-out, in-out. Then he slumped backwards onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling. Kirk let him think for a few moments, until Kevin said, voice high with amusement, “Is being a genius a prerequisite for becoming bridge crew, or is that just how it worked out for yours?”

Kirk laughed. They sat in silence for a little longer. Then Kevin said, “We have to tell the others.” Kirk’s heart stopped in his chest for a second before picking up double-time.

“I don’t think---”

“Jimmy,” Kevin said, and something in his voice suddenly sounded much older than he was. Kirk turned to look at him; his big brown eyes were focused on the ceiling, but his face was settled. “The others need to know. And then we’re all going to end this.”

“I don’t want to bring anyone back in if they’ve gotten out,” Kirk said quietly, and Kevin snorted.

“You think any of us ever really got out?”

Kirk felt the truth of that. But he said, “I don’t know if they’ll even respond to me now. I failed you all.”

Kevin shot upward, grabbing for Kirk, as Kirk said, his voice hardening, “I never should have let them separate us. I promised to protect you, and then I didn’t. I should have---”

“Don’t say that,” Kevin said furiously, and his grip was like a vice around Kirk’s arm. “Don’t you say that. You and Tommy might have been the oldest, but you were just kids too. It’s everyone else who should have protected us and didn’t. Not you.” They stared at each other for a moment, before Kevin’s hand loosened and slid into his lap. “If you reach out, they’ll respond. I think we’ve been kept apart for too long.”

“If we all testify…,” Kirk said, thinking, and Kevin nodded firmly. Elise has said that keeping them apart was a strategic decision. The testimony of all five of them might further destabilize whatever lies she had spun through both 31 and the admiralty. Then he thought further. “Do you want to come to Vulcan with us?”

Kevin considered it, but then he said, “I think I should stay here.” He chewed his lip, ringing the fingers of one hand around his wrist in the same nervous motion Kirk had noticed before. “I’ve tried to, um. Get better. On my own, before. But it doesn’t seem to stick. I think if I stay, now that I can’t hide, I might have a better chance at seeing it through.”

Kirk slung his arm over Kevin’s shoulders and pulled him into his side, and Kevin allowed himself to be toppled, resting his head on Kirk’s shoulder.

“Keep me updated on how you’re doing, okay? McCoy will if you don’t.”

“Okay,” Kevin mumbled. “Do you promise you’ll reach out to Tommy and Mira and Ellie?” Hearing someone else call them by name, remember them, spread warmth through Kirk’s chest.

“I promise,” Kirk said. He pressed one kiss to the top of Kevin’s head and squeezed him like he had when they were small. Then he left him to finish his movie and went home.

When the turbolift door opened on the officer’s quarters deck, Kirk’s own door was sliding shut behind Uhura, dressed in her off-duty clothes with her hair pulled back.

“Captain!” Her voice carried down the hallway, her smile warm and genuine. He couldn’t help but smile in return as he approached. “I was just visiting with Mr. Spock.”

“I hope he behaved,” Kirk said, and rested a hand on her shoulder in greeting.

“He never does,” she teased, and Kirk joined in her easy laughter. She patted his hand and lowered her voice. “He told me what you’re planning. If there’s ever anything I can do to help you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Nyota,” he said, and squeezed her hand before releasing it. “We’ll let you know.”

“You’d better,” she said easily, and sauntered to her own door. With one last smile she vanished inside, and Kirk was left alone in the hallway. He breathed in the familiar recycled air of the Enterprise, more appreciative than ever of the distinct noises and smells that made her unique, and then let himself into his quarters.

Spock sat on the couch where Kirk had left him, but at some point he had slipped out of pajamas and into his casual robes. They melted around him, the loose fabric both clinging to and obscuring the lines of his body. Set up on the coffee table was Kirk’s chess set, and a stick of Spock’s incense burned in its holder on Kirk’s desk. Home, home, home.

“Hello, Jim,” Spock said. He shifted as if to stand, but Kirk moved faster--- the door had barely slid shut behind him before Kirk was leaning into Spock’s space, one hand on the back of the couch and the other beneath Spock’s chin. Kirk tilted his face up and kissed him. Spock’s mouth was warm, and he reached up with both hands to cradle Kirk’s face between them. Kirk levered one knee down to kneel over Spock, sliding one hand over the back of Spock’s neck, the inky silk of his hair between his fingers. One of Spock’s hands slipped beneath his shirt, clever fingers running along his waist, sending shivers through him. But he pulled back as his hands brushed down Spock’s neck to the medical tape.

“I will not be injured if you kiss me too aggressively,” Spock said as his eyes opened.

“I’ll feel more sure of that when you’re not still covered in gauze,” Kirk said, and ran one hand lightly over the referenced area. Spock settled back against the couch cushions with only a slight frown and indicated the board in front of him.

“Would you care for a match instead, then?”

“Always,” Kirk said, grinning, and stole one more kiss before retreating to the chair across the table from Spock. Spock made his opening move, and they played until Spock’s incense burnt out and Kirk’s eyes were drooping with sleep. They prepared for bed, Kirk changing Spock’s bandages and smoothing his hands over the covered and healing wounds, before sliding into sleep together.

☆☆☆

T’Pau’s response came in the night: she would hear their request for asylum.

“We should leave as soon as possible,” Spock said, and they packed their clothes and the essentials in silence. They left a lot of their personal items: Kirk couldn’t say it out loud, but it felt like a promise to both himself and his ship that he would come back. Part of his mind wondered about April, about his court-martial, about what they would do if T’Pau determined that what had been done to him did not earn him Vulcan’s protection--- but there was nothing to be gained by worrying about those things now. He watched affectionately as Spock carefully packed his dancing crinoid back into its protective box and tucked it into his duffel.

“Spock,” he started, as they did a last sweep for anything they might need on Vulcan. “How will this request work?”

“We will present evidence to T’Pau that the need is sufficient, and then she will make her decision.”

“No, I mean---” Kirk’s throat dried. “Will I have to explain everything to her? Tarsus?” Spock’s hands stilled on the zipper of his bag as he turned. Then he crossed the room to Kirk and took his hand.

“She will ask for your mind,” Spock said, and even though Kirk had melded before, had even liked it when it was Spock, the idea of another stranger in his head after the events of the past few days put a chunk of ice into his stomach. Spock lifted his hand to his face and kissed the center of his palm.

“No one will ever enter your mind without your consent again,” Spock said. Kirk shivered at the quiet intensity. “I can and will present your argument for you, if that would be your preference.”

Kirk’s immediate instinct was to insist on doing it himself. It wouldn’t kill him. And he had already proven that he could show others what had happened, even if he couldn’t physically talk about it.

But Spock had offered, and he would not have offered if he did not mean it. He nodded.

“Very well,” Spock said, and Kirk thought that he understood why Kirk kissed him instead of responding. He turned the lights off entirely, and Spock let him take his bag for him. Then he locked the door to their quarters behind him and they left.

They found Pike first, poring over padds in the ready room with Rand. “Vulcan will hear us,” Spock said without preamble, and Chris’s eyes were serious when he said, “I’m glad. Thank you, Spock.” He met them by the door and said, “If there’s anything I can do--- please, just ask.”

Kirk gripped Chris’s shoulder appreciatively, and Spock raised the ta’al. Janice hugged Kirk tightly and lifted a surprisingly elegant Vulcan salute to Spock. Then they left Chris and Janice to run the Enterprise.

They stopped at the bridge next so they could say their goodbyes. There were hugs, and Kirk promised to comm frequently and return as soon as possible, and then Uhura handed him her earpiece with a knowing look. He gave her a grateful smile, and she pressed a button on her console and nodded at him.

“Crew of the Enterprise, this is Jim Kirk speaking.” His voice froze for a moment--- the knowledge that he was leaving his ship and his crew behind swelled inside him painfully. He coughed and forced himself onward. “I have only two things to tell you, so I’ll keep this brief. The first is that I will be stepping away for a period of medical leave, and Admiral Christopher Pike will be acting captain in my stead. The second is that it has been my greatest honor to serve as your captain, and I hope to return to you as soon as I can. Thank you. Kirk out.” Uhura shut off the comm. He cleared his throat painfully.

Then Sulu said, “We’ll see you soon, captain,” and with another round of hugs his bridge crew sent him and Spock on their way. In the turbolift, as they descended to the shuttle bay, Kirk said, “Is it illogical that I want to see her before we leave?”

Spock twisted the auto-stop on the lift and raised one eyebrow. “Do you think that wise, captain?”

“Not at all,” he said. “But some part of me still wants to ask her why.” He shifted the bag straps on his shoulders. Spock considered him.

“Would it help you in any way?”

One part of him still remembered the warmth of her office when he was young and alone, and there was a peaceful nostalgia in that false memory. But Kirk thought instead of the infection of her voice, the way it had crawled into him when she tried to wedge his mind open and force her way in, and shuddered. He straightened his shoulders and said more firmly, “No. I can ask her why when we put her on trial.” Spock restarted the lift, and Kirk shifted the bags to his other shoulder so he could twine his hand through Spock’s.

Bones was waiting for them in the shuttle bay. He held a Medbay bag in his hand, uncrossing his arms as Kirk and Spock exited the turbolift.

“Six months,” Kirk said, as they neared him: both a promise and a threat.

“You know you can request more if you need it, Jim,” Bones said, and handed the little bag to Spock. “This is a scar cream. Today is the last day you’ll need the bandages, but you’ll be better off if you start using this now rather than later.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Spock said, taking the bag from him. Before Bones could retract his arm fully, Spock loosely grabbed his forearm over his sleeve. Bones looked up at him in surprise at the contact. “I am in your debt.”

“You’re not,” Bones said firmly, and with only a second’s hesitation, gripped Spock’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And you never will be. Though I would be much obliged if you would take care of this one while you’re gone, alright?” He nodded to Kirk, but his eyes were on Spock.

“I did vow to do so, doctor,” Spock said.

“Yeah,” Bones said, a slow smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I guess you did.” Then he turned to Kirk, and Kirk stepped easily into the waiting circle of his arms to hug his best friend.

“Thanks,” he mumbled into Bones’s shoulder, and Bones patted him on the back.

“Don’t get too used to the quiet,” he said. “I’m planning on crashing your vacation as soon as I can get away from this ship.”

“I am certain my mother would be delighted to host you,” Spock said. His voice was carefully empty, but his eyes met Bones’s, and all three of them knew that when Bones came to Vulcan it wouldn’t be for a social visit. There were still too many unanswered questions buried in Kirk’s medical records for that.

But he walked them to the shuttle, mangling the ta’al and squeezing Kirk in one more hug. He stood alone in the shuttle bay as Spock claimed the navigator’s seat and Kirk piloted the shuttle carefully towards the exit. The good doctor grew smaller and smaller through the back viewscreen until they couldn’t see him at all; until they could only see the Enterprise hanging against the backdrop of space.

Then even she dwindled in size until she was just one of a hundred million stars, and then she was gone.

☆☆☆

Vulcan was just as hot as Kirk remembered; the discrepancy in temperature between the cool climate-controlled interior of the immigration center in ShiKahr and the hot wind on the streets was enough to make him immediately start to sweat. Spock sent a padd message to his parents, letting them know that they had arrived, and then they rented an aircar and departed.

The car was nearly silent, hovering above the streets on its magnetic track, and Spock relinquished control to the autopilot as soon as they were away from the building.

“My parents’ estate is outside of the limits of the city,” he said, looking out the window at the sun-bleached stone buildings of Vulcan’s capital. “It will be quiet, and private.”

“That sounds nice,” Kirk said, and tangled his fingers in his lap. His thoughts were a jangling mess in his head. He had not taken more than a few days away from his career in his entire adult life; without his ever-present sense of responsibility, he wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to be thinking about. The storm clouds of Elise and Section 31 and Tarsus and April began to roil in the back of his mind.

“I don’t think I know what I’m doing,” he blurted, into the silence of the car. Spock turned away from the window to face him, eyes flicking down to his knotted fingers before returning to his face.

“In what sense?”

“How does one…” He stumbled over his words, his thoughts. “I can’t even talk to you about what I’m supposed to be working on, let alone tell someone I don’t know. Where do I even find a psychologist? What if…” What if the next one is like Elise? What if things get worse instead of better? What if there’s no fixing what she did to me? He thought about Kodos and the shuttle, about Sam and his parents, and turned away to look out the window again. ShiKahr spun past them.

Spock’s hand found his, wormed between his palms and forced him to relinquish his death-grip.

“I do not know,” Spock said quietly, watching his home city give way to the stillness of the outskirts, tall buildings making way for lower dwellings that nearly vanished into the rise and fall of the sand-dunes. “But I believe that this is when we ask for help.”

Amanda stood in front of Spock’s home as the aircar touched down gently on the paving-stones. She was dressed in the same long robes that Spock favored when he was off-duty, with a gauzy headscarf wrapped around her hair to keep it from being tossed in the wind. They got out of the car, and before Kirk could offer, Spock had pulled both bags out of the trunk and slung them easily over one shoulder.

“You are my guest here,” he murmured, leaning in to be heard over the wind. “Allow me.” Well, coddling Spock had been nice while it lasted. They turned instead to the lady of the house, standing with her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes twinking.

“My son,” she said, lifting the ta’al as she beheld him.

“Mother,” Spock replied, and raised it in return. Then Amanda pivoted to Kirk, and her expression went from Vulcan-appropriate to human-warm.

“And Captain Kirk,” she said, and approached him to clasp his hand between both of hers.

“Just Jim now, ma’am,” he said.

“Then you must call me Amanda,” she said, and Kirk smiled easily at her. With his hand still clasped in hers, she glanced between him and her son.

“T’Pau is already here,” she said quietly. “Spock, she is going to insist on proof.”

“She will have it,” he said. “But I will provide it.” Amanda nodded, and with one more squeeze of Kirk’s hand she released him to lead them into the house. It was the same cream-brown sandstone that made up so much of ShiKahr, built in such a way as to make it feel as though this building was a natural part of the desert around them. It was cool inside, though Kirk could see no evidence of air conditioning, and the light drapes on some of the walls fluttered in some sourceless breeze. Spock placed their bags in a covered alcove. They passed woven tapestries and several doorways leading into darkness before arriving in what seemed to be the Vulcan equivalent of a living room.

What surprised Kirk the most was how much it immediately reminded him of Spock’s quarters. There were shelves set into the walls dotted with art pieces; one section had globes of each of the founding Federation planets, with Vulcan and Earth placed next to each other. T’Pau stood next to Sarek, the intimidating pair unspeaking, her hands clasped behind her.

“James Kirk,” she said. Her voice was raspy and croaking. “Thee are not dead.”

“Elder T’Pau,” he said. “I am not.” He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed at that or not. Her eyes slid past him to Spock.

“Thee married a human and now bring him here for guarding,” T’Pau said, in Standard. Was it an insult that she didn’t speak in Vulcan to Spock? There were so many levels of politics here that he did not fully understand; he was out of his depth. But Spock did not waver under her gaze.

“I did and I do,” Spock said. “I will bear testimony for James Kirk.”

Her eyes found Kirk again, glinting in the light. “Thee will not give me your thoughts?”

Kirk kept his chin high as Spock said, “His mind has been violated enough. It is my right to stand for my husband.” Some of the anger that Kirk had heard when Spock had found him and Elise leaked through the mask of neutrality. Even here, facing off against an elder on his home planet, the Spock rule remained. T’Pau inclined her head and crooked one ancient finger at him. Spock went to her and knelt at her feet, tilting his head up as she dropped her gnarled hand onto his face. They closed their eyes in unison.

Sarek watched the two of them with studied disinterest, but Amanda’s eyes found Kirk’s. She gave him a small, encouraging nod. Then they waited in silence.

Spock dropped out of the meld ten minutes later with a sharp inhale, swaying backwards on his knees until he righted himself. T’Pau’s hand fell from his face back to her side, where it hung empty and unmoving as she stared at nothing. Spock remained where he was as she considered; Kirk thought he could see that formidable intellect chewing through what Spock had shown her. Her demeanor had gone from a cold and aloof haughtiness to a feral intensity that he recognized from Spock. In his head, Elise’s voice rang out: Can you even imagine the political upheaval? He might be watching the end of the Federation start in real-time, as this ancient woman transformed from an elder statesman into a succinct reminder that Vulcans used to be a warrior people.

“This is the truth?”

“It is,” he said, and he remembered too what he had thought in Elise’s office: if it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be. She looked between Spock and Kirk again, her posture settling into calm again, before inclining her head.

“Stand,” she said gravely, and Spock did. Then, to Kirk’s limitless surprise, she raised the ta’al to him. “The clan will safeguard thee, S’chn T’gai Jim Kirk. Thee may remain on Vulcan for as long as is necessary.”

Kirk lifted the ta’al automatically with a numb hand. “Thank you, Elder T’Pau.” Was there a formal response he was supposed to give? He had expected to defend his position, to beg for asylum, but---

“Logic does not need to be thanked,” she said, and for a brief moment, she looked at him with something that was not quite kindness, but was close. She looked at him, not as the ruling power of Vulcan in one package, but as a telepath who recognized what had happened to him. Then the moment ended, and she was gone.

#spirk #spirk fic #regulatory relations #my writing #k/s #kirk/spock #fake married #k/s fan fiction #alright. that's enough. this will end up in the eyeballs of the people who want to see it

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