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Title: A Second Chance, Part 2(b)/4
Author: ayesakara aka laylafic
Universe/Series: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Relationship status: First time
Word count: 44,905 (total), 5,634 (this part)
Genre: Angst, action/adventure, drama, h/c
Tropes: Accidental bonding, breakup, mission, grief, jealousy, mindmeld, telepathy
Warnings: Heavy angst, violence/torture, trauma
Additional Pairings: Spock/Uhura, Kirk/OC
Summary: ‘An incident during a shore leave gone disastrous leaves Spock with a link he never expected with his captain—a bond he needs but which he suspects Jim never wanted. The consequences of how he deals with that ‘belief’ change everything for them.’

Continued from A Second Chance, Part 2(a)/4

A Second Chance, Part 2(b)/4

Jim wakes up the next day, to find Bones puttering around his quarters. He yawns hugely and looks at the chronometer blearily. 1525 hours. Damn. 1525?

"Bones, what the fuck did you give me last night?" he complains as he rises up.

"Oh, you’re awake." McCoy looks at him and with a scowl firmly placed on his face, slowly approaches him, a medical tricorder in hand. "How’re you feeling?"

Jim rubs his eyes as he throws back the covers and straightens his legs, turning to sit up. He shakes his head to get his bearings, and then looks up at his friend, surprised. "I think... I feel okay."

McCoy narrows his eyes as he runs the tricorder over him, eyes on the readings. "Define okay."

"Good." Jim nods as he follows the movement of the scanner as it does a full body scan. "I’m feeling good."

"Well, you could’ve fooled me last night." McCoy frowns, as he punches a few buttons on the scanner. "You looked like death warmed over."

Jim sighs. "Bones, I don’t know what happened last night. But I feel perfectly all right now."

And he really is. He feels as if... that weird, ugly feeling of hopelessness that had filled his senses was a thing of dreams. It is not there anymore.

"You feel perfectly all right?" Bones still doesn’t look convinced as he looks between the tricorder and his face and back. "Even great?" Yep, not convinced at all; he looks suspicious. He finally puts the tricorder down and looks up at him. "Like you did when you woke up in sickbay five days ago?"

Damn. Jim coughs, hedging. "Umm..."

Bones snaps, "Say it."

He shrugs. ".....kind of."

"Jesus," Bones swears. "I didn’t realize I’d have to deal with a fucking bipolar captain when I signed up for this position."

Jim laughs suddenly. "Bones, you know I’m not bipolar. I really don’t know what happened to me last night but I really am feeling all right now."

"Not just last night." McCoy shakes his head. "Uhura told me you’d been like that for the past couple of days."

Jim frowns. "Uhura?"

"Yeah, she came to see me because she thought you were looking peaky." McCoy huffs. "Why the hell do you think I barged into your quarters last night?"

Oh well. Whatever it was is over now. Jim can feel it in his bones. "Well, no need to worry yourself anymore. I feel great." Cherished, loved, cared for, soaked in affection, adoration. Jim blinks. Whoa! This should probably weird him out a little more, but it doesn’t. This feels as if... it belongs here. A thought occurs to him; Jim looks up at his friend. "Maybe it was a delayed reaction to the mindfuck I went through on Antara. Maybe it was a delayed PTSD thing."

McCoy looks at him closely. "Hmm."

"You said my brain suffered a trauma," Jim says and suddenly it makes sense. That’s what it must be. "Maybe that’s how it manifested."

McCoy narrows his eyes again. "Five days later."

Jim shrugs. "Hey, I said....delayed PTSD."

McCoy sighs as he turns away to pick up a padd lying on the table. "I honestly don’t know what to do with you. You and Spock both."

Jim feels himself frown. "What about Spock?"

"He’s okay, I guess." McCoy shrugs. "But he looked like hell last night too."

What? Jim stares up at the doctor. "Why? Is he okay?"

"How the hell should I know?" McCoy scowls and moves out to the living room. "Between the Psychic field crap and his breakup with Uhura, I can only imagine him feeling out of his depth."

"What?" Jim shoots up to his feet. "Spock and Uhura have broken up?"

When did this happen? How did he not notice?

"What dimension are you living in, man?" Bones turns to look at him. "It’s been days. I must admit, I didn’t know until Chapel told me, apparently Uhura and her are close. But yeah, it’s been a few days now."

Days. The days that Spock has been missing from the bridge? "Well, I haven’t seen Spock in days." Jim follows him out. "He’s changed his entire fucking schedule, he’s not even on alpha shift anymore."

"Well, no wonder," he hears Bones mutter. "It must be damn awkward for those two."

Jim suddenly stops in his tracks as realization dawns.

"Oh. Right." So that was why Spock was not on the bridge. He was.... avoiding Uhura, not him. Why the hell did he think Spock would avoid him at all? Christ! "Damn, that... sucks."

"Yeah well, I always knew those two weren’t right for each other," McCoy says.

Jim turns to look at him. "Shut up, Bones. Give him a break."

"What did I say?" Bones stares at him. "It’s not about Spock, you know. There are two people involved here."

"Yeah well, you’re always on Spock’s case." Jim presses his lips together. "I just wish you would give him a break, for once." Stop blaming Spock, stop abusing him, stop riding his ass all the time. He looks at his friend. "Besides, we know they’re both professional enough to get past this in an... amicable manner."

There’s a strange look on the doctor’s face. "Yeah well, Uhura seems to be faring better than Spock at this time."

But Spock will be all right. Jim knows this. Spock will be just fine. He may think he doesn’t have anyone to turn to, but he has friends on this ship. He is not alone.

Jim will make sure of that.


"So you’re telling me that not only is the psychic field artificially generated, it can actually be manipulated by non-telepathic minds?" asks Dr. McCoy.

All the scientists working on the P-9 component are assembled in Briefing Room 2 to discuss the investigation. Mr. Scott and Engineer Roberts from the Enterprise, and Mr. Neeson and Mr. Paulson from the Potomac. Jim is sitting to his left, leaning back in his chair, his face clear of the exhaustion that has filled his eyes the past few days. He is looking well-rested and clear-headed.

"Indeed," Spock replies. "In fact, that appears to be its primary purpose. To manipulate the minds of sentient species found within a telepathic bandwidth, despite being generated through an artificially created psionic medium."

"To what end?" McCoy asks. "To wage war against whom... non-telepaths who have no defenses against such a weapon?"

Spock inclines his head. "It could be used as a terrorist weapon, yes."

"Maybe it is the other way around," says Roberts. "Maybe it’s meant to thwart the effects of a ... telepathic attack itself."

"Waging war against telepaths," Neeson murmurs.

"Or defending against a telepathic attack," Paulson chips in.

Spock looks at him. "That is certainly a possibility, as the only way to repel a telepathic interference would be to create a psionic medium through which contact can either be made, or repelled."

"But is there a defense against this weapon?" The captain looks at him. "Any way we can suppress the effects of the psionic field?"

Spock replies, "We are working on a prototype of a suppressor unit with the help of the Potomac scientists, which can possibly negate the effects of the psychic interference. If such a device is worn on your person, and the psionic field is activated, its effects could be successfully suppressed."

Jim asks, "How long before it is complete?"

"We’re working around the clock, Captain," Scotty replies. "We’re predicting close to another seventy hours."

"Good." Jim nods and then asks them, "Now what about its origin?’’

"I did some digging of my own," Scotty says. "Seems like there is one piece of circuitry inside the P-9 component... that comes from what initially appeared to be an unlikely source."

"However," Spock adds, "upon further investigation, we found it was not so unlikely after all."

Jim looks at him. "What?"

Spock presses a button on the table, bringing up the image of a planet on the wall screen. On a panel next to the screen, data starts scrolling upward. "Arkon III. The Federation had no previous information on the planet prior to the First Contact made by USS Bogart in 2214. They used to be a peaceful race until fifteen years ago when their planetary governmental structure broke down, with various factions erupting in civil war against each other," Spock says. "However, despite the civil unrest, a nest of mercenary groups have thrived on the planet and there is a large network of underground organizations working on the acquirement and distribution of pirated products, including technology piracy that has found buyers from across the quadrant."

Jim looks at the screen, his face thoughtful. "Yeah, the Federation has tried to put a stop to that crap many times, but due to their mercenary nature, the network uses splinter groups to operate, and it is difficult to catch someone when there is no central hierarchy to pinpoint."

"Indeed," Spock says.

Dr. McCoy frowns. "Aren’t these the guys that have a link with the Orion Syndicate as well?"

"They are," Spock replies.

"So that component originated from there?" Neeson asks.

Scotty says, "The processor chip definitely has a manufacturing signature which appears to have originated from one of the splinter groups working on Arkon III."

"So what are we waiting for?" McCoy looks around the table.

Jim looks at the doctor, then at each person sitting around the table until his eyes rest on Spock. "After our upcoming mission is over, that’s our next stop."


The invitations to join him at meals continue to be extended.

And continue to be politely declined.

Jim doesn’t understand the rationale behind either of those occurrences.

He doesn’t know why he feels so drawn to his First Officer. More than he already has been in the past, that is. Yes, it is true that he has always found Spock compelling. He has always been fascinated by Spock’s intelligence, his wit, his intellect. His economy of movement. His supposedly poker face which gives away so much through his very human, very expressive eyes.

But this is different. This is new. He'll be going about the most boring, tedious task, like signing off on reports, or getting the astrometry report from Chekov and making course corrections with Sulu. The most boring things. things that routinely make him want to bang his head against the bulkhead. He would be on the bridge, or eating lunch with Bones, or in Engineering catching up with Scotty, his mind feeling tired and foggy after the long day, mentally signing off for the day already. Then it will suddenly happen.

He'll feel it like a gust of cool, fresh air filling his nostrils. His lungs will expand and he will feel it like the first rays of sunshine breaking through the fog in his mind. The heavy dark clouds will break and Jim will feel a strange, crazy giddiness filling his chest. And he will turn around and inevitably... there he'll be. Spock... stepping off the turbolift. Or through the sliding doors into the commissary. Or going up to the upper level on Engineering.

And suddenly his mood will lift. Jim will feel an irreverent smile fighting to break on his lips, a smile he would barely manage to stave off. Sometimes their eyes will meet and he will think he would see an answering flash in the half-Vulcan’s eyes. But even when Spock does not look his way, even when Spock goes about as if he has not noticed him, Jim knows Spock is aware of him. Just as Jim is aware of Spock. On a cellular level, inside his skin, through the blood coursing through his veins. He doesn’t know how he knows this. He doesn’t know how he knows Spock can feel it too. But that strange feeling of assurance, of confirmation zings through his veins, just as his blood runs through them.

He also doesn’t know why Spock ignores him, or tries to, even though he doesn’t want to. Jim knows Spock doesn’t want to.

And at night, he dreams.

Of pale skin that blushes sage, of lithe, strong limbs wrapping around him, of hot skin sliding against him. Of soft, shiny, jet black hair through which his dream hands card their fingers. Of slanted eyebrows and pointed ears. He wakes up disoriented, disheveled and disquieted. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why is he dreaming about Spock? Spock is his First Officer, one of his closest friends. Spock has also only just broken up with his girlfriend, who also happens to be his comm. officer. It has been merely a week and Jim is already having lustful thoughts about his very serious, very reserved First Officer.

What kind of a moron is he?


They arrive at Starbase 321 two days later.

Their ‘mission’, so to speak, is to pick up medical supplies to take to Merak II, which is four days away. Jim keeps hoping that someday Starfleet will realize that it is imprudent to use their flagship as a goddamned cargo vessel, but he has no clue when that day will come. And since it really is medical supplies, he does not want to grumble too much.

Starbase 321 is a science facility. Medical specialists from many Federation worlds come to attend the conferences and seminars held here, which are renowned all over the quadrant. Bones is especially ecstatic to have docked here for that reason alone, even if they’re only here for one day.

So to appease his friend, Jim has accompanied him to the surface, hoping to check out the sights. There is nothing particularly spectacular about the base, it has its usual assortment of Starfleet science types mulling about, with briefing rooms filling with enthusiastic participants arriving to join in the discussions. If the topics had wavered out of the medical realm towards the more technological, Jim would certainly be interested, but they do not. Still it is good to be off the ship for a little while, and Bones insisted he needed a change of scenery after the few days he’s had.

Although, he is perfectly all right now. There is no need for Bones to be worried anymore, Jim tells him as they walk around the facility to arrive at a lecture hall where a conference on Effects of Pandemic Viruses on Non-humanoid DNA is being held. Only to have Bones promptly occupy himself in an engaging discussion on Vikaa’ri Parasites with a Tellarite doctor who is assigned as CMO on USS Jinnah. Jim listens to the discussion on the rash-like symptoms of pandemic flu and the morbidity rate of the Tropian strain on herbivore physiology, which is truly fascinating to behold, he grins at Bones, but he really must find his own entertainment, or he surely will go nuts.

At least the place has several well-stocked bars to make use of, Jim realizes with relief as he waves at Bones and walks into the first establishment.

And that is when he sees the two of them.

Spock with the alien male, sitting on stools right next to each other.


Spock’s intentions are completely and utterly innocent. The thought that the Hekaran scientist could be interested in anything beyond their enlightening discussion on Relativistic Physics does not even occur to him.

In fact, was he to be aware of the alien’s less than pure intentions, he honestly would not know what to do. He has never been with a male before. All he wants is a chance to get away for a short period. On the ship, he has too many people he wishes to avoid. Nyota who looks at him with wounded, confused eyes. And Jim... who fills his senses with longing every second of the day. Makes him see blue eyes and pink lips and soft, pale, human skin in his mind’s eye. Make him think of callused fingers and golden hair and strong arms. Jim, who is like a drug. A drug Spock cannot get enough of. But a drug that he must avoid.

So when the Hekaran male smiles and leans forward to put a hand on his knee in a knowing gesture, he is completely unprepared.


They are sitting at the bar right across from Jim, but since he is standing next to a pillar, he has not been seen. Their elbows are almost touching, as they speak in hushed tones, with an air of covert intimacy. Then the alien, a tall, handsome Hekaran male, leans into Spock’s personal space and puts a proprietary hand on Spock’s knee.

And suddenly Jim sees red.

A sudden, haze of burning, hot rage descends on him. He feels this incredibly unfathomable wave of anger and possessiveness and hurt and anguish, all of which is completely and entirely irrational and uncalled for, envelop him. He staggers back, feelings his knees shaking as he feels his hands clench into fists, feels this burning, aching need to smash something, to break something, to.... to kill someone.

The anger astounds him, it burns him and scorches him from the inside, but he cannot stop it from taking over his senses. He has this urge to pick something up and smash it down to the floor, breaking it into a thousand pieces. He wants to rain down his fists on this glass table in front of him and shatter it, break it, like he can feel his heart breaking. In that red, burning haze, his body shuddering with hurt and betrayal and pain and oh god it hurts so much, so fucking much, he turns around and stalks out of the bar. He hears Bones call his name out but he doesn’t answer, cannot answer. He strides over to the beam-out coordinates and calls the transporter room.

When he is back, he staggers out of the transporter room, ignoring the shocked look on the face of the on-duty Ensign, that black thundercloud over his head, as fuming, he stalks back to his quarters and locks the door.

But before he can pick up anything to smash, to break into smithereens, he feels his stomach clench, feels his guts twisting inside, bile rising into his throat. He runs to the bathroom.

He barely makes it inside before he is violently ill.


Spock notices something is wrong the moment the feelings of absolute misery, pain and dejection consume him. He knows they come from his bondmate, who is in some kind of distress. He rises abruptly, his face suddenly pale, his throat tight, as he lurches back to dislodge the Herakan’s physical contact on his person.

"What is wrong?" the alien is asking, looking bewildered, but whatever he sees on Spock’s face stops him. "I... I apologize if I presumed..." he stammers.

And it is suddenly clear to Spock what has occurred. He has once against caused his bondmate pain, without even realizing what he was doing. A throbbing ache begins at his temples as he waves away the alien’s concerned protestations and turns around. He can feel his stomach rolling, his heart thudding, as he feels his body shuddering in sympathy, in understanding, a phantom ache enveloping him, squeezing his insides. He stumbles out of the bar and back to the beam-out location and calls the transporter room.

When he has rematerialized, he asks the technician present at the controls where the captain is, but the ensign does not know. He takes out his communicator and calls the captain but there is no answer. He finally asks the computer for the captain’s location and finds that he is in sickbay. His heart thudding, Spock rushes through the corridors, arriving within seconds at his destination, only to find that...

...the captain is sitting on a biobed, looking pale but on the whole undamaged. Dr. McCoy is unsurprisingly cursing and admonishing the captain for eating whatever he did that made him so violently ill. As if he can sense his presence, Jim looks up to find Spock standing at the door. His face is flushed, as if he has a fever.

"Spock," Jim stares at him, his eyes wide. "What are you doing here? I thought... you had... business to attend on the station." There is something in the captain’s eyes that Spock cannot quite place. Apprehension. Confusion. Bewilderment, perhaps.

Spock’s feels his eyes taking inventory of the captain’s face, and he notices the color slowly returning to the pale features. "My business was concluded early. I thus returned to the ship." He looks searchingly at his friend. "I heard... you were unwell."

As his eyes are on the captain’s face, he does not notice the strange look the doctor gives him.

"Oh, it was just a stomach bug," Jim gives a weak laugh. "I’m fine now."

Spock looks at him closely. "Are you quite sure?"

"Absolutely." Jim smiles.

Spock watches the captain a moment longer, his thoughts in a conundrum. "I am.... relieved to hear that," he says and then nodding at both the captain and the doctor, he excuses himself.

He walks out of the sickbay, his thoughts turbulent, his mind mulling over the event in all its minute details, as he makes his way to Deck 5. The effect the bond has on the captain, whether he blocks it or not, is plainly clear. It is damaging, painful, detrimental to his wellbeing. Spock has done a great disservice to his commanding officer, to his friend, through his selfishness. He has thought only of his own needs. He has focused only on the bond that was broken, was bleeding, was making him hurt. He has not seen the damage he is causing his bondmate through his greed.

By the time, he reaches his quarters, his decision is made. He steps in front of the comm. console, punches in the code, and waits as the call request is communicated via subspace. After a few minutes, the console beeps. He sits down and faces the screen. He presses the button to activate the video.

Sarek appears on the screen, his face curious. "Spock, are you well?"

"I am, Father," Spock replies. He looks at his father for a long moment, his throat tight, his heart quivering at his side. Then he continues, "However, there is a matter I would like to request your assistance with."


That night, as Jim lies down in his bed, he realizes he is an utter idiot.

He knows now Spock had not gone to that alien with any ulterior motives. He’s just recently broken up with Uhura, he won’t do that to her. Of course, if his First Officer were looking for companionship, in any other circumstances, as long as he stays discreet, who is Jim to deny him that? Spock has every right to find companionship with whomever so he wishes, on or off the ship. Every fucking right.

Why then does Jim feel like he would rip the head off anyone who dares step towards Spock?

He groans and pulls the pillow over his head.

Damn, his life sucks!


After the incident on Starbase 321, avoiding Jim becomes harder to do.

The captain appears to be everywhere. He asks Spock to join him for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner, to spar, or simply to talk. It is nothing unusual. They always used to do these things before the incident on Antara. To make things worse, Spock wants to be with him, all. the. time. But he also has to avoid him. It is only a matter of a few days now. His father informed him the Healer will be able to see him once they reach Merak II. Until then, he must resist the lure of Jim’s mind.

But he also cannot resist. He is drawn to his bondmate, like a moth is drawn to a flame. And he knows he will be consumed. This flame will annihilate him, and he will not be able to stop it from happening.

"How about a game of chess tonight, Mr. Spock?" the captain is standing at his table in the commissary, as he eats his meal. "It’s been a while."

Spock looks up at him, his face calm, as he feels a dull throb begin in his head. "I am afraid, I must decline, Captain. There are a series of recordings I must make of the P-9 component as Mr. Scott has found another match for one of the pieces of circuitry involved that leads back to Arkon III." He says, "It would be unwise to abandon the experiment at this critical stage. I will be occupied for several hours."

"Of course, I understand, Mr. Spock." Jim smiles as if he expected this answer. "Perhaps another time?"



But later that night, Spock finds himself turning away from his intended destination.

Spock knows he must turn around and walk away. While the readings on the P-9 component he was supposed to take were an excuse created specifically to foil the captain’s fifteenth invitation to join him for a meeting unrelated to professional matters, the critical importance of the experiment is not fabricated. And it is only a matter of one night. Tomorrow, they will be at Merak II and it will all be over. Why then is he turning into the corridor that takes him away from Science Lab 2? Why is he stepping into the turbolift and pressing for Deck 5? Why is he turning into the passage that leads towards the senior officers quarters?

Why is he standing in front of the captain’s quarters?

As if his hand has a mind of its own, it moves up to press the door chime. It takes only a moment before the door opens.

"Spock!" Jim stares at him, surprise evident on his face.

"Captain." Spock looks at him. "If you are not otherwise occupied, I would submit a request to revise my decision regarding the chess game."

Jim seems to be holding his breath. "I thought you were busy in the Science lab tonight."

Spock tilts his head. "I realized my presence was not required there at this point in time." He looks at the captain closely. "If you are otherwise occupied..."

Jim steps back. "No, of course not, please come in."

It doesn’t take Jim long to set up the chess board. Before they sit down, he gets them drinks from the food processor. Vulcan tea for Spock and coffee for Jim, which he says he requires for his concentration.

They begin to play.

And suddenly the pinching pain Spock has been feeling all day is gone. He looks down at his hands and stares at his fingertips. They feel tingly, as if they are itching to touch something. Someone. He watches Jim move a pawn and finds his eyes drawn to the human’s hands. He watches how his long fingers wrap around the pawn and lift it and move it to the next spot. He tries to concentrate on the chess pieces, tries to think of a strategy as he is wont to do in a game with the captain, but it is all in vain.

He opens his mouth to speak, but finds himself at a loss for words. He knows he should tell the captain the truth. He can tell him the truth. Jim would understand. Jim, with his abundance of empathy would not fault him for acting as he has. Spock knows he has been irrational, illogical, unreasonable. He should come clean.

But his words are stuck in his throat, and his eyes keep falling to the captain’s hands, to his fingers, to the line of muscles prominent under his black uniform undershirt. They linger on the wideness of his shoulders, on the halo that seems to hover over his sand-colored hair that Spock knows is nothing but a trick of light.

And as he watches Jim breathe, his presence hypnotizing to his senses, he feels the scrutiny he himself is under.

He looks down at the chess board and feels his breath catch in his throat.


Jim finds himself staring at Spock.

He stares at his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. He doesn’t know how he’s never noticed before how high Spock’s cheekbones are, or how full his lower lip is. How thick and long his eyelashes are. He has never noticed the line of his long throat, or how prominent his adam’s apple is as he picks up his cup and swallows the aromatic Vulcan tea he loves so much. He never noticed how brown his big, liquid eyes are. Never saw how perfect his jaw and chin were.

But does... does... Spock look unsettled? There is something in his eyes that is almost fearful, as if he is afraid of something. Why is Spock getting up? What is this inane excuse about going back to check on the experiment? Jim gets up from his seat. He thought the experiment was done for tonight, but Spock is putting his cup away and asking for permission to leave.

It is barely given before Spock is gone. He left so abruptly. He didn’t even finish his tea. Did Jim do something wrong? Why did Spock leave? What happened?

Jim suddenly realizes he is painfully hard.

He sits back down on his chair and stares at the abandoned chess set.

He closes his eyes.


Upon their arrival at Merak II, the planetary authorities request the Enterprise’s help in repairing a malfunctioning nuclear reactor, which is crucial to run their atmospheric control units. Jim authorizes Scotty to assemble an engineering team to assist in the repairs and they know they’re here for at least the next twelve hours.

Spock, on the other hand, has assigned teams to assist the planet’s medical storage facility with processing the supplies they have brought. It is a long, painstaking job, as the cargo they are carrying contains everything from vaccines and anesthezine to surgical equipments and medical scanners.

It is around mid-afternoon that Spock finally catches a break, as he walks out of their cargo hold and heads towards the mess where Ensign Mon, his astrophysics assistant, has proposed a lunch meeting.

"Commander Spock!" someone calls him.

He turns around to watch a Meraki officer approach, a padd in his hand.

"Commander, you forgot to sign off on the last batch of supplies," the alien says. "Supervisor Vorn asked me to get your signature."

Spock feels his eyebrow lift in surprise. "There must be some mistake. I am quite sure I signed all the batches I processed."

"No, I’m afraid you did not sign this one." The alien holds the padd for his perusal. "Look for yourself."

Spock takes the padd from the male’s hand and looks down at the screen. It shows the image of a floral arrangement set on a wooden table. Spock looks up at the alien in surprise. "What are you..."

But before he can finish his sentence, he feels something sting him in the neck, and the padd falls from his hand, the world suddenly turning hazy.

The next moment, he’s sliding to the ground, unconscious.


Jim is standing at Uhura’s station when the pain hits.

One minute he is standing, looking at the scans Uhura is bringing up, and the next, he is on the deck, writhing in pain, a red hot, blazing wave of searing agony tearing through his skull. He curls into a fetal position as he feels hundreds of sledgehammers slamming into his head, tearing through his brain as a hot all-consuming lava of agony slides through his synapses. He moans, feeling his throat close as his breath get strangled, as he feels as if someone has torn his heart out of his chest as he finds himself gasping, shivering, shaking in agony as his world is reduced to the pain, the hot, burning, terrifying pain that hammers into his senses.

"Spock, Spock," he cries. Please stop the pain, please stop, please...

"Captain," someone is calling for him but he cannot answer. He cannot answer. He cannot...



Nyota is yelling instructions into her mouthpiece, her heart galloping in her chest.

"Ensign Jackson," she says sharply into the comm. link. "Where is Commander Spock?"

"He was just here a while ago, Lieutenant," comes the disembodied reply. "He was talking to one of the medical technicians down here."

"Locate him immediately," she snaps. "There’s been an emergency on the ship."

"Yes, Ma’am."

She looks around at the bridge crew and finds all eyes on her, the air thick with tension. She watches Sulu and Chekov exchange a distressed look and cannot blame them. She can’t stop her hands from shaking still, and it’s been nearly five minutes since McCoy arrived to take the captain to the sickbay. She just cannot stop thinking of the state the captain was in; the distress, the obvious pain.

She cannot stop thinking of how he had called for Spock, moaning that he was in trouble, that they needed to help him, as if.... as if his pain was somehow linked to Spock. As if what he was suffering was not just happening to him, but was happening to Spock too.

She has a very bad feeling about this.

The comm. station beeps. "Johnson to Enterprise."

"Report, Ensign."

The ensign stammers, "We... we cannot find the commander, Lieutenant."

Uhura feels her breath stop. "What do you mean?"

"Well... he’s missing," Johnson sounds frustrated. "We found his communicator lying outside the storage facility, but he’s nowhere to be found. He’s.... we cannot find him, Lieutenant."

She looks incredulously at the bridge crew, who look stricken at the revelation.

Johnson continues: "Commander Spock has gone missing."

And Uhura feels ice settle in her veins.

End part 2

Go to Part 3


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
(Deleted comment)
Oct. 4th, 2010 08:59 am (UTC)
Haha. I love Evil cliffhangers! :)
Oct. 3rd, 2010 05:18 am (UTC)
Dude!!!!!! Damn, first of all, I'm sure Spock is going to feel even guiltier that he caused Jim that much pain. But, then I'm glad that Jim will finally find out what happened and that Spock was kidnapped before he could see the healer to sever the bond :)
Oct. 4th, 2010 09:00 am (UTC)
Oh yeah, it's been one long guilt trip for Spock, hasn't it? Its fabulous! :D
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