Chapter Text
Jim had no idea what to do. His head was killing him. In his arms was an unconscious Spock. He took a few deep breaths, pushing back the fear. It would do no good for them now. There was nothing to fear if Spock was here. Jim wasn't technically alone. Just mostly. That was fine. He was a Starfeet Captain. His first needed him. He could do this.
What he had to do was unclear.
"Ok Jim. This is fine. Just make a list. Like old times, remember?"
First, the Xiili King drew them here and left.
Second, Jim had done something which made Spock move away from him. Probably when he'd all but plastered himself to Spock's side.
Third, when Spock was moving away he feel into a pool of an unknown liquid.
Fourth, when helping Spock out of the pool, they both ingested said liquid. Which, Jim thought, tasted a lot like that honey herbal tea his mother made him drink. Perhaps a bit sweeter. Like caramel and chives?
Fifth, Spock had done something to his head. He'd felt him, when their hands touched. For a moment it was... perfect. Then Spock had blacked out. The loss of his mind had given Jim such a shock he'd dropped Spock onto the stone floor. The moment they separated he'd gotten this cracking headache. Pulling Spock back into his arms had only relieved some of the pain. For the moment it was bearable but for how much longer, Jim wasn't sure.
So basically, he was alone and wet in the dark. And no one knew where they were. Or could properly communicate with their hosts. Great. Awesome.
Of course, Spock would choose this moment to wake up and ease a few of Jim's fears.
Jim helped the Vulcan sit up before shuffling back and away. If his actions earlier had made Spock uncomfortable than he would keep his distance. Regardless of the pain it brought.
Not that Jim was alone for long. Spock moved across the space with surprising speed. To Jim's astonishment he suddenly found himself with a lap full of purring Vulcan.
Jim sat, stunned speechless as Spock rubbed himself against his neck. Once Spock seemed content with his work, he moved on to lick along the lines of Jim's collar bones. He delivered a quick nip to the point between Jim's neck and shoulder before knocking his forehead against Jim's.
"He's actually a cat. The water turned him into a cat." Jim ran his hands through Spock's dark hair, mumbling to himself.
"Who'd have thought Spock'd be a nice cat?"
It was another half an hour before one of the Xiili came back into the room and found Jim beneath the lazily purring Spock. Jim would have bet a million credits the bastard was satisfied as he led Jim from a safe distance -Spock had started to snarl something fierce- back to their quarters.
Or rather, Jim directed Spock to follow the Xiili since he was busy being man handled, a.k.a carried, back to their room. The only thing that saved the day from being a complete failure was that the rest of the crew were already at dinner and therefore didn't see Jim's humiliation.
Even though being carried by Spock back to their bedroom had been a bit of a running fantasy for the last few months. Or since he'd first spotted the imposing figure at his tribunal. Or maybe a bit before that. Like, that one time at the academy gym when Spock had been lifting three hundred kilos. No sweat. Oh lords, that strength. That, was hot.
Anyhow, regardless of Jim's reoccurring sexual fantasies, his first officer was still under the influence of some unknown substance. Which meant Jim needed Bones here. Which meant Jim needed to find his communicator. Which was nowhere to be seen.
Five minutes of fruitless searching later Jim surrendered to Spock's touch. It wasn't much more than rubbing, licking and the occasional nip anyway. Spock would eventually be his friend again. Right?
"I'm hopeless. Can't even find one com-" Spock's PADD beeped. The same PADD they'd modified to send messages to the senior bridge staff.
"I'm an idiot." Jim moaned, rubbing at his forehead to alleviate the building ache.
He untangled himself from Spock's body and grabbed the device before running back into Spock's lap. He snuggled slightly into the broad chest behind him as he waited for the thing to load.
'Bones. Spock and I are in our room. I need you. Spock's acting weird. Fell in something. I feel, weird. Head hurts. Lost my comm. Hurry?'
Jim had no doubt Bones would be able to fix them. In the meantime, he really wanted a nap. Or a hypo for his headache.
February 16, 2265
Jim awoke to the bright, clinical lights of sickbay. This would be the thirty-fourth time, if his calculations were correct, he'd woken from an away mission here. The fact that he'd only been on thirty-six away missions was unimportant. Regardless, it was kind of nice to have a little piece of Bones' domain just for him. Like a little home away from home. So he and Bones could spend more time together.
He loved Bones a bit like he loved Sam. But Sam had left and that had hurt so much. Would Bones leave like Sam? Everyone else had always left. George, Winona, Sam, Kevin, Reilly, Clara, Marley, Pike. Bones would leave, yes. And then Spock. And Jim would never ever ever ever ever be able to pick up the pieces.
"Doctor, I believe the Captain, although awake, remains under the influence of whatever pain medication you administered." That sounded like Spock. Did Spock always have a nice voice? It's all deep. And smooth. A bit like chocolate. Jim liked chocolate. He also liked Spock. Maybe, could Spock be chocolate on the inside?
There was something bright in his eyes. It didn't hurt but it felt bad. Kind of like that time when he was led from the dungeons and saw the sun again. That hurt his eyes too. But it was a good hurt. Like, he knew he was finally safe. Unlike the other hurts on that planet. They were bad hurts.
"Shit, he's convulsing. God dammit Jim!" Bones? Was that Bones? But didn't Bones leave him? No. Not yet. Bones was here and Spock was here. Wait, was Spock here? Was it Spock that left him? That made sense.
"T'hy'la, I am here. Dr. McCoy is here." Oh. So, no one left? He wasn't alone?
"You are not alone Jim. Never alone." Huh. That was nice. That was really nice. Jim felt all warm.
"Dammit you oversized, green-blooded hobgoblin. Get off my patient." So Spock was keeping him warm. That was really nice. Spock was really nice. Like, possibly even Jim's favourite. Which wasn't weird because Spock was everyone's favourite. Like that Romulan chick who wanted to marry him and the Klingon guy who was nice for a Klingon. He liked Spock cause Spock was super smart. And helpful. And funny. And he had nice ears. Jim kind of wanted to touch his ears. They were all pointy and green. Green was Jim's very favourite colour.
"Sleep now Jim." Okay. That seemed like a good idea. And Spock asked him. And Spock said Jim. He liked Spock saying Jim. It made him feel happy. And now he should sleep because Spock always knew what was best, didn't he? Would Spock stay? He wanted Spock to stay and hold him close like on Xiili. That was nice.
"Aaaah, I feel like I've been hit by a truck. In the neck." Jim groaned as he awoke. He lay still for several breaths cataloguing each ache and pain. Huh. It was mostly his neck. Which would be Bones' tender love and care. Although, the whole left side of his body was unnaturally warm. Like he'd pushed all the blankets onto that side or something.
But then, why was that side also heavy? There was definitely a weight resting on his chest. There was also something brushing against his thigh. It was almost like someone was sleeping next to him.
"Sleeping is the incorrect term but I suppose the assumption is fairly accurate."
Jim stilled. He definitely hadn't said anything aloud. So, telepathy.
Spock.
Jim's body went rigid. Why was Spock in his bed?
Why was he in sickbay again? Because he had finally lost his marbles. Clearly.
"Finally? It appears you have been expecting a mental breakdown of some variety. Would you care to explain?" Spock was laughing. In his head. Well, it was more like waves of amusement washing over him which felt distinctly like Spock. How an emotion could feel like a particular person was beyond him. At this point. Maybe later he'd nut it out. Now, he wanted ice chips, a glass of water and his own bed.
"Very well." The bed shifted as Spock left. Jim felt an acute ache at his temple. Whimpering, he curled in on himself, holding his knees and squeezing himself as small as possible.
Warm hands were on him in an instant. They carded through his hair and stroked his face, neck and shoulders. Long fingers rested on his meld points and the pain receded.
"Spock?" Jim could barely recognise his own voice. It sounded small and painfully weak.
"It's alright Jim. I've got you. I wont leave you." Warm arms wrapped around Jim's body and gently straightened him back out. With Spock's help, Jim propped himself up against the headboard and drank from the offered cup. Blue sought out brown.
"I think I'm ready for that explanation now Mr. Spock."
"While we were on Xiili, we were exposed to a substance which lowered my inhibitions and increased all of my senses. Including my telepathy." Jim tilted his head slightly, considering the implications. Last time Spock lost control, Jim ended up in the sickbay with a litany of injuries.
"Just tell me what happened Spock." Jim felt a curling unease radiating from Spock.
"I don't remember much of what happened whilst under it's influence. I know that I came into direct contact with the substance. It destroyed my controls and my rampant telepathy bonded us."
Jim didn't know how to feel. He knew enough about Vulcans -there was that one time he broke into the V.S.A- to understand bonds. Family bonds, marital bonds, unspoken-pre-Surakian-super bonds.
A connection between minds. Sure. Spock was in his head. Okay. That would be good on away missions. Not so good when lives weren't on the line. Jim's eyes widened as shock permeated his entire system. He turned to face Spock.
"What about chess night?" The slight twitching of Spock's left eyebrow was totally worth it. Except, chess would be a whole lot harder now. Spock was the telepath. Spock was trained to use bonds. He'd easily be able to comb Jim's mind and unravel his deepest, darkest plans for chess domination. And like, his secrets and stuff. Great.
"Why does it hurt?" This time Jim was sincere. He'd never read anything about bondmates experiencing pain when separated.
"The bond is a lot, deeper, than usual. It needs to be stabilised." Jim blinked in Spock's general direction. Deeper than usual sounded important or something. Was that why he could feel Spock's emotions?
"Spock, explain things to me like I'm human and don't understand your Vulcan mind-bond-things."
"In ancient times the bond would be created and then consummated. The joining of mind, body and spirit settles the bond."
Sex. They had to have sex. That was normal. Totally normal. A bond was like a marriage. Why was he even freaking out? With an IQ of over 200 -236 to be precise-, Jim was far from stupid. He could roll with anything. Anything included sex with his first officer -whom he'd secretly been crushing on since academy days- so they could leave each others sides -even if they spent almost every hour of every day together- after being accidentally -ouch- married, by Vulcan and Federation law, on a diplomatic mission. Easy.
"My place or yours?"