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The transporter deposited them in a small clearing, utterly deserted save scattered bits of mechanical equipment still sitting throughout it. Some of it was half buried under strange vines and aggressive foliage despite the relative newness of the distress call the Enterprise had picked up only hours ago.
And of course hot as all hell. The nearest star beating down on the small camp with an unrelenting focus.
There hadn’t been time for a full scan of the planet, only the most basic of checks before the away team had gathered to beam down. Spock had been conveniently missing when his underlings had been filling them in on it. A human safe climate had been enough for Jim to approve the mission though the distress call hadn’t specified a danger.
Spock’s team had laid out the small amount of information they’d been able to parse from the brief scans they’d had the time for. Less than he would usually accept for a mission on any unknown planet, but time was of the essence.
A distress call gave them a nebulous and unknown deadline, and very little real information. Anyone with experience on a ship would hope for the best while planning for the worst. They had the information to expect some form of dangerous fauna planet side, now the question was whether it was part of the distress call or simply a side effect of the locale. Something they wouldn’t be able to determine until they’d made contact with whoever had activated the call.
Jim risked a glance around, eyes narrowing as they swept over the small camp that had clearly been erected in the center of the clearing. Small enough that they probably didn’t need to expect more than a handful of people. To his left Spock had already begun his own scans, tricorder in one hand as he scanned the small mechanical system nearest them.
“A filter of some sort, I believe, for water. Though with a much higher mineral content than you would generally prefer. Whoever set up this camp appears to have been well prepared Captain, though all systems here appear non-functional.”
He’d half expected someone to appear then, now that they had broken the silence that had hung over the abandoned camp.
No one stepped out.
The wind rustled through the camp, tugging at the tarps that had been flung haphazardly over some of the larger pieces of equipment. At some point it must have been active. Some of it at least must have been working. And somewhere there was one piece that still was, that beacon lighting up his tricorder once again.
It seemed to still be transmitting, every 50 seconds on the dot. A short burst of data transmitted directly into space, just waiting for someone to be passing by.
The trees around them, massive things that reminded Jim of the redwoods of California, remained mostly silent save the occasional fluttering of some type of bird-like animal. Something about it was eerie, a strangeness in the air. The camp despite its state of abandonment didn’t appear to have been attacked, as far as Jim could spot none of it even appeared damaged. As if whoever had been here had simply shut it all down and walked away.
Left it all behind to be slowly reclaimed by the fauna around it.
“Captain?”
He swallowed the unease that had begun to creep its way up his spine. Nodding as he gave himself a quick shake, waving one hand in Spock’s general direction as he gave the camp one more once over.
“Fan out, let’s see if we can’t find some sign of what went down here and where our mystery caller is. That distress call didn’t appear to have been going for too long—we should have picked it up further out if it was already active— they have to be nearby.”
Spock wasted no time, striding towards the nearest system with a screen and setting to work. While none of it appeared active, Jim figured if anyone was going to get it up and running again it’d be Spock. As Spock worked and the small set of security officers slowly moved to pick through the small camp one of them paused. Hesitating at the other end of the camp, turned away from it and towards something Jim couldn’t see through the trees.
“There’s a cave over here Captain.” Ensign Locke, a younger security ensign. Well, younger in relation to the relative youth of most of their current crew.
Finally something interesting, and maybe an answer to their little dilemma.
“Well then, Luis, Gomez, Murray, keep an eye out out here and comm if anyone shows up, Spock, join me and ensign Locke in checking out that cave?”
There was no argument, a low murmur of assent and to Jim’s express delight blessed shade. Spock barely seemed to care, breezing past him without a word to stalk deeper. For now, Jim allowed it. Waving Locke in ahead of him to keep a bit of distance between the two of them.
For a brief moment at the start of their current commission Jim had thought they might be able to be friends, might even achieve that nebulous connection he’d caught a glimpse of on Delta Vega. Spock had seemed open to it, willing to work with him when it came to understanding each other. Jim had even allowed himself to get destroyed in chess more often than not, a suggestion from the elder Spock despite Jim’s relative inexperience with the game.
The cave was lit once you made it past the first small chamber, small sconces attached to the walls that glowed with a soft white light. A sign of their missing castaways.
Ensign Locke hesitated at the first break, slowly sweeping the small flashlight she’d been carrying over the opening as Jim caught up to her, somewhere ahead of them Spock was gone. Swallowed by the shadows.
“You check down there, comm if you find anything strange. Spock and I will continue down this path and see if it breaks off any further down.” The command came naturally, and Jim was glad to see that he’d garnered at least some loyalty since this had started. Watching for a long few seconds as Locke slowly began to make her way down the small tunnel.
Over the recent months any headway Jim thought he’d made in his overtures of friendship to his First Officer appeared to have evaporated. The occasional chess games had hit a drought, followed by the slow tapering off of anything that might have been construed as an actual conversation. Spock’s focus always elsewhere, his work always immaculate, and his presence practically nonexistent.
Jim was fairly certain he’d met more with Spock’s second in command, Lieutenant Jackson, in the past 3 months than he’d met with Spock in the past 6. A disconcerting shift when you looked at just how long they had left on this mission and the expected camaraderie of a command team.
Jim could rely on Commander Spock sure, he had no doubt that every duty as Commander and Science Officer would be completed with the same precision as everything else. But he couldn’t rely on Spock. Not really. He was a shade that drifted into sight every once in a while, that haunted the Enterprise with a quiet disapproval that was slowly driving Jim up a wall.
Even Uhura didn’t seem to know what to do with him now. Always watching him as he appeared for his shift and disappeared afterwards. A spectre that didn’t seem inclined to speak with anyone now that they were far enough removed from the tragedies that had landed them this ship and this command crew.
Admiral Pike had cautioned Jim on it, warned him not to push. That Spock wasn’t the type to react well. And Jim had done his best to follow through on that, to refrain from anything that might’ve even been construed as pushing. Somewhere along the way he’d failed.
Jim stumbled his way into another chamber, this one much larger than the small chamber they’d breezed through at the cave entrance. Here there was more of that equipment, the same make as far as Jim could tell.
Spock of course was nowhere to be seen. Not willing to risk being alone with his Captain if Jim had to hazard a guess. Allergic to any type of real conversation.
He couldn’t have had time to scan the equipment, not if he was already out of the chamber.
Jim fished out his own tricorder, scanning the nearest piece of equipment with aplomb. Well, two could play that game. Jim would do his job and Spock would do his and maybe one of these days someone would whack his counterpart upside the head hard enough that Spock would remember what communication was used for.
The tricorder in Jim’s let out one final negative trill. Every piece of equipment he’d scanned scattered throughout the chamber had returned with almost identical results. Non-functional, all systems almost entirely burnt out. The type of damage Jim had only seen rarely, and never in such a wide spread.
“Captain.” Jim barely suppressed a flinch, swinging around to blink at the shadow of his First Officer in the mouth of the nearest cave passage. There was something strange about the way he’d said the title. Something stilted in the tone of his voice. “We have completed our scans, it is time to return to the ship.”
Spock remained stock still where he stood. His tricorder returned to his hip and his hands hanging loosely at his sides. A monotone to his voice that set alarms off in the back of Jim’s head.
Jim risked another glance at his tricorder, another negative, before he spoke. “Commander we aren’t any closer to figuring out what happened here, and if the distress call is still ongoing-”
Spock cut him off. Taking one stiff step into the cave as he began. “There is no need. I have rectified the distress call. All remaining personnel have already returned to the ship, it is now our turn.”
Returned to? That anxiety in the back of Jim’s head reared to life once again. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end. Spock didn’t seem to notice, remaining rigid where he stood. His eyes locked on Jim’s and his hands still limp at his sides.
“You what?” The question came out sharp, Jim barely raining in the annoyance as he tried to get a read on his second in command. “And would you like to explain that logic to me Commander? Or are we forgetting the chain of command?”
They’d had their differences for sure, and more than once they’d disagreed on the path forward during a mission. But Spock had never outright gone against his orders like this, not since he’d been promoted to Captain.
“I have not forgotten. I simply intended to streamline-”
It was a point of contention between them, a growing frustration that Jim had been trying his best to mitigate and been completely unable to in recent months. Spock would disagree, but more often than not he refused to voice it. Simply watching with that look of cold disapproval as Jim tried to find his footing.
It was infuriating, and no matter how many times Jim tried to get him to speak his mind Spock only seemed to draw further into himself. Falling away from them, closer and closer to the cold Commander Jim had first met on the bridge over Vulcan That Was.
“You’ve never streamlined something in your goddamn life Spock, and I’d know as I’ve been telling you that for months.”
“Captain-”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Something to Jim’s left suddenly came to life, machinery whirring as cold blue light flooded the chamber. Illuminating Spock where he still stood, rigid and impassive as he stared back at him. His eyes were strange in this light, fixed on Jim with a focus that left him flatfooted.
“Your requests have been heard, Captain, I have adjusted accordingly. It is time to return to the ship.”
“No. That isn’t how this works, and you know it. Call the rest of the away team back-”
“I will do no such thing.”
Jim fished out his communicator with a low snarl, watching as Spock’s eyes narrowed from across the chamber.
“Scotty send-” A warm hand closed around his wrist cutting him off.
Spock.
The Vulcan suddenly pressing into his space, twisting his arm with a brutal force until the communicator fell from tingling fingers as Jim yelped. Spock kept moving as the communicator thunked into the dust, lifting Jim clean off the ground. His toes just barely brushed the stone beneath them.
Jim scrabbled at him, attempting to dig his heels into the ground as he collided with the wall with a bone-shaking thump. The back of his head bounced off of stone, Spock’s eyes narrowed as he finally came to a stop. One hand still tight around Jim’s wrist and the other tangled in the front of his uniform shirt.
“Is this not preferable, Captain? You have requested such from me more than once in the past week.”
It was said with the same dispassionate tone as Spock seemed to say everything these days. Despite the hand still tangled in his shirt, the scant inches of space between their faces.
“Spock, put me down.” Jim did his best to keep his voice level, his free hand coming up to rest almost gently over Spock’s wrist. Careful not to grip too tightly, not when he didn’t know what the hell could have set Spock off like this. “That’s an order.”
Spock’s head canted to the side, his eyes narrowing as he watched him. There was something assessing in the way he almost appeared to be looking down at Jim now. Something cold and calculating that left Jim with the uncomfortable sensation of being judged.
And found wanting.
“Do you think I intend to follow your orders now Captain ?” There was that strange inflection again, almost like amusement. If Spock did amused. Which he didn’t. “If I intended to do so, I wouldn’t have bothered with any of this.”
Spock’s grip tightened, Jim sliding half an inch higher against the wall as he shifted on his feet.
“Okay, okay.” The words squeaked out before Jim could really think them through, still trying to catch some glimpse of Spock in dark eyes that remained impassive. “Spock, what the hell is going on?”
The Vulcan’s lip quirked, the tight grip on Jim’s wrist finally easing away as he released first his wrist and then the grip he’d maintained on his shirt. Watching as Jim slid the few inches to the ground to land on unsteady feet. Still pinned in by Spock’s presence in front of him.
He didn’t step back. Instead laying his palm flat against Jim’s chest, trapping him there against the wall.
On his own feet he was reminded of the height difference between them, the strength afforded Spock by his Vulcan heritage. Strength Jim couldn’t hope to match.
“Perhaps I simply wanted to, perhaps I’ve been waiting for this all along.”
“Spock-” He was cut off by a sudden biting kiss. Teeth clicking against Jim’s with the sudden force of it.
“Isn’t this what you want, Captain?” Spock watched him, dark eyes searching his face cataloging every reaction. He leaned in so close their noses almost brushed as his eyes softened. “Jim.”
It was practically a purr, a low rumble of sound as Spock stepped forward. Pressing impossibly closer as Jim scrabbled fruitlessly at his wrist and the wall behind him.
A nose brushed against his cheek, Spock ducking closer to mouth along the line of jaw. Easing ever closer, one knee pressing between Jim’s legs as panic began to set in only to be washed away with a sudden rushing horror.
For a brief moment Jim was looking down at himself-
Blinking up into wide dark eyes, pupils blown in panic-
Wrenching himself away, Jim’s hand still locked around his wrist-
Skin on skin, mind to mind-
Jim stumbled forward with the force of it, his hand closing around air as Spock jerked his wrist free. The connection slammed shut. Spock twitching half a step away, the movement aborted midway. A marionette with its string cut. His shoulders quivered as his mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to speak. The words trapped somewhere in his chest.
And then it was gone, a rigid control washing over him. A horrible convulsion that settled into a frigid stillness. That dead eyed look back in his eyes as he straightened.
Jim felt nauseous all of a sudden, that horror still rattling its way through his system. Choking him with its potency. Washing away all of his fear to replace it with a bone deep sense of wrong .
Spock stood before him again, his head tipped ever so slightly to one side. And a smile slowly crawling across his face.
It wasn’t Spock. Isn’t Spock. No, that horror, that had been Spock. The skin to skin connection was enough for him to break through, to reach Jim despite whatever it was that was puppeting him around in front of him.
“I’m only giving him what he wants.” That purr was still audible in his words. His eyes still strangely dead. Locked on Jim, unblinking. “Don’t you see it Captain, he’s wanted to do that for so very long. But he couldn’t, no, no, no. What if he ruined it? What if he ruined you ?”
A slow step forward, a soft laugh as Jim mirrored it with a step back.
Not Spock reached out, the tips of his fingers grazing Jim’s cheek as he closed that final step into Jim’s space. Pressing forward until his lips brushed the shell of Jim’s ear as he spoke. “He ruins everything he touches after all. You know that most of all don’t you.”
This time the horror that reared to life in Jim’s chest was his own, a mounting realization as Not Spock pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. And Jim let it happen.
He laughed, warm breath gusting over Jim’s cheek. Spock’s other hand wrapping gently around Jim’s, tangling their fingers together as he leaned impossibly closer.
“Oh don’t look so worried Captain, I’m hardly putting words in his mouth. I’m only telling him what he already knows.”
Jim nodded, choking down the nausea. Not Spock—he needed to remember to separate them. Spock wouldn’t do this, didn’t want to be doing this. Was horrified at the very concept of it—pressed an open mouthed kiss to his throat, slowly nipping his way down to suck at the juncture of his neck.
He drew back when Jim didn’t react, blinking down at him with that false softness. Widening Spock’s eyes as he pouted with those perfect lips.
“This is for the best Jim. He’s always too little, too much. Grasping desperately for acceptance as you turn him away. Always too different, too Vulcan for Starfleet, too human for Vulcan. An abomination, a monster cobbled together. A modern age Frankenstein released into the world to be gawked at. A medical miracle, an experiment that was never meant to survive those first few hours.”
Jim’s hands clenched into fists, a burning building in the back of his eyes as Spock watched him.
“You’ve always wanted this, for him to act as you do. I can give that to you, you can have everything you’ve ever wanted from him.”
No, no he hadn’t. He’d never wanted this. Even in those first days, even when Spock had been choking him out on the bridge, or tossing him into the frozen wasteland of Delta Vega. He’d never dreamed of this .
“Get out of him. Now.” His voice was soft, breathless.
Not Spock only smiled back at him, tossing Spock’s head back as he laughed.
“I don’t think I will, Jim. I can see how I affect you, how much you want this. I’m only giving you what you want, he’ll stop fighting eventually.”
Jim reached for his phaser, Spock was half a second faster. One hand wrapped crushingly tight around Jim’s wrist as the other slowly lifted the phaser from its holster. He tutted at him, letting it hang from his fingers like a toy.
“He won’t, Spock won’t. He doesn’t give up-”
Spock tossed the phaser haphazardly over his shoulder. Closing the distance between them before Jim could attempt to dive past him. Pressing himself flush to Jim, from shoulder to hip. It made Jim intimately aware of just how he was reacting to it all. A blush spread across his face before he could attempt to control himself.
“Oh such faith in your wayward Commander, a shame it's misplaced.” Spock’s hand splayed warm across his chest, the other slowly rising to cup Jim’s cheek as Not Spock leaned in. A chaste press of lips followed by a long lingering kiss before he broke it off.
Jim’s hands had come up automatically, brushing against Spock’s hips. His fingers just barely touched the phaser still secured on Spock’s belt.
The phaser.
“He aches, for his people, for his home. He can’t go back now can he Jim , maybe it’d be better to simply let it happen. To let go. Perhaps he’ll even get what he wants, with someone else in the pilot’s seat perhaps but I think that’s a fair trade, don’t you?”
Not Spock was so close, his forehead pressed to Jim’s. Their lips only inches apart.
There was a chance. A hail mary.
Jim closed the distance. Pressing his lips to Spock’s in an open mouthed kiss that the other melted into. His lips parting beneath Jim’s assault. Just long enough for Jim to slip the phaser from its holster.
It was protocol to keep them on stun, but Jim didn’t think stun was what he needed. His fingers scrabbling slightly at the settings.
Not Spock shifted closer, deepening the kiss.
Jim pulled away, panting as he blinked up into those dead eyes.
“Spock, I’m sorry.”
A momentary confusion, washing away with a vicious rage. He pulled the trigger. The burst of electricity swept through Spock, his body convulsing as he dropped soundlessly to the floor. And remained there.
Jim slowly lowered himself down, reaching out to press his fingers to Spock meld points. His hands were shaking, that horror still locked in his chest attempting to claw its way free.
He’d have time for it later, when they were back on board the Enterprise and Spock had been fully checked and declared ghost free. Now, now , he needs Spock to wake up.
The body in front of him stirs, his head twitching away from Jim’s hand before he suddenly bursts into movement. Spock’s eyes snapping open, wide with something Jim could only describe as panic.
He made to scramble away, palms flat against the ground as Jim tripped forward to catch him. They landed unevenly, Jim landing half in Spock’s lap in his rush to catch him. His hands hesitantly took Spock by the shoulders as he shuddered.
“Easy, easy, Spock.” Spock twitched, his chest convulsing as he panted. “Just breathe, and maybe tell me it’s you but I think we should focus on breathing first.”
Spock’s eyes flitted across his face, pupils blown and that strange dead look replaced by what Jim could only describe as open horror. “You have successfully repelled the entity.” His voice was hoarse, barely audible. As if he’d been screaming.
It was as close to a confirmation as Jim figured he’d be getting.
Spock’s chest finally stilled. Some of that control he lauded finally kicking back in as he attempted to dislodge Jim’s hands from his shoulders.
“I must apologize Captain-” His teeth clicked shut with an audible crack as Jim caught Spock’s hand in his own. A wash of anxiety not his own seeping through where skin met skin.
“No, no apologies. Not right now.” He kept his voice gentle, that mounting panic and horror that had been growing within him tamped down in his own display of emotional control.
“Captain I-” Jim cut him off as gently as he could manage. Tightening his grip around Spock’s hand, careful to keep from tangling their fingers together. Too reminiscent of whatever had hold of Spock before, the way it had slid their fingers together with a rough brutality.
“Hey, look at me.” Spock’s eyes finally met his, still too wide, too panicked. “There we go, listen, if you still want to apologize it can happen later. After we’ve made it back to the ship and talked about what happened down here.”
Spock swallowed, a convulsive thing. His free hand rising to tug at the collar of his uniform shirt. A nervous tick Jim didn’t think he’d ever seen Spock do.
“If you would prefer I transfer from the ship I am prepared to do so.”
That monotone was back, but now it was something Jim recognized. The tone Spock used when he didn’t want to acknowledge something, when he had opinions he was keeping tucked securely within himself.
“Transfer-” Jim paused. Mentally checking himself before he ran full scale off the edge of a cliff. This had gotten away from him—as if it had ever been under his control—but Spock was not leaving the Enterprise. Not if Jim had any say. “Spock, you aren’t transferring from the Enterprise. All of science would revolt for one. And more importantly, it wasn’t wrong. I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages, so maybe we look at it glass half full, yeah?”
Spock blinked, an owlish twitch of his head. So much more expressive than that pale imitation Jim had been speaking to. It almost made Jim say fuck it. Was almost enough for Jim to give it his own shot and see if Spock was any more receptive when he was the one that instigated the kiss.
“Later once you’ve been checked out and we make sure neither of us have any interlopers we can hash out all the details. But I’ve wanted to kiss you for months, so this was hardly an imposition.”
Somewhere on the other side of the chamber Jim’s abandoned comm unit crackled to life, too far for Jim to make out what it was saying. Though Spock could probably hear it well enough to relay it if he asked.
Spock who was still staring down at their linked hands, his fingers flexing slightly where they were trapped in Jim’s grip.
“Captain-”
Soft, breathless.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Spock.”
Spock met his eyes. His own just as Jim had come to expect them, so very expressive despite the Vulcan exterior.
“On the ship?” Spock asked after a long few seconds. Still searching for something in Jim’s eyes.
“On the ship.”
He tightened his grip one last time before he released Spock’s hand. Rising to his feet as Spock mirrored him.
“And probably after we’ve made sure we’ve dropped a buoy nearby to make sure no one else falls for whatever trick that distress call was.”
“Of course Captain.”