The Edge

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Part II

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It was a tense alpha shift on the Bridge without Spock. Jim was certain now that more than just Uhura were now aware that something was wrong -- Spock never got sick, never begged off, never shirked his duty, and they all knew it. Chekov even sputtered a few words when Spock's relief arrived, Standard still like water under his tongue, but a shake of the head from Sulu stopped him from asking any questions. No doubt the incident with Nurse Chapel had spread through all decks like wildfire.

When Jim heard, "Sickbay to Bridge," he did not know whether to feel relief or apprehension.

With a glance at the two sets of eyes watching him from the helm, he pressed down on the arm of his chair. "Captain here," he said. "What is it, Bones?"

"I need to talk to you."

Any other time, Jim might have joked that they were talking. "Bones-"

"Now, Jim."

Jim's heart picked up speed and he licked at his lips. "All right, then," he said. "Meet me in my quarters in five minutes. Kirk out." He released the button.

When he stood and stepped up to the second level, Uhura was watching him, a question in her brown eyes. She would surely want to know, whatever was wrong, but he could hardly tell her now, even if he had known, himself. He glanced at the lieutenant seated at the science station and then moved to the turbolift.

"Mister Sulu, you have the conn," he called, stepping into it.

"Aye, sir."

The lift doors slid smoothly shut and he braced himself against the railing, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

"Deck five," he said after a moment and the lift began a slow downward plummet.

It was a twenty second ride. No one else got on. He stood, gripping the hand rail so hard it hurt, and when the zoom hushed and gravity reasserted itself, the door opened on his own deck. Jim took a step and caught himself in a stumble, startling a young woman waiting to step inside.

She glanced down the hall, then back at him as he stepped out. "Are you all right, sir?"

Jim looked at her. She looked nervous, like it had been her duty to ask, but she was uncomfortable speaking with him. He still could not get used to wielding intimidation. "I'm fine, thank you," he assured her, but his hands were still shaking. "Carry on, Yeoman."

She moved warily around him and into the lift and he went to his quarters, careful not to glance at Spock's along the way. They were empty and he waited another agonizing two minutes before the door chimed again.

"Come," he called.

"Jim," McCoy said as soon as he had stepped inside, before the door had even shut again. He moved toward him with purpose. "You've got to get Spock to the colony."

That was not the new information he had been anticipating. "Bones, I'm trying-"

"No! Now -- right away!" the doctor insisted. Jim almost expected to be seized by the shoulders and shaken. "If you don't get him there within a week -- eight days, at the outside -- he'll die. He'll die, Jim."

Jim had been expecting... something. Something horrible and possibly not fixable by them, but that window of time and that extreme a result... He turned away from McCoy to pace, gathering his thoughts.

Die. Unacceptable. Unacceptable for any of his crew, but Spock he could not lose. There were not many concrete rules to this relationship thing, but being completely without the other person, Jim considered one of them.

"Why die?" he demanded. Autopilot, set to command. "Why within eight days? Explain."

"I don't know."

Jim turned to squint at him. Who made a statement that severe without knowing why? "You keep saying that. Are you a doctor or aren't you?"

McCoy sighed like he did whenever Jim broke a bone. "There's a growing imbalance of body functions," he explained. "As if, in our bodies, huge amounts of adrenaline were constantly being pumped into our bloodstreams."

Yes, Jim could sympathize with that, after today.

"Now, I can't trace it down in my biocomps, Spock won't tell me what it is... but if it isn't stopped, somehow, the physical and emotional pressures will simply kill him."

Jim winced. McCoy really needed to stop using words like that. "... You say you're convinced he knows what it is?"

McCoy nodded. "He does," he said. "And he's as tight-lipped about it as an Aldebaran Shellmouth." Jim moved for the door and he called after him, "No use to ask him, Jim, he won't talk."

Jim stopped shy of the door, shoulders tense. "Where is he?"

"In his quarters, if he actually obeyed doctor's orders, though at this point, I imagine he will simply because he's afraid to be anywhere else. The lack of control..."

Jim swallowed.

"He said he was going to try to meditate, but if you ask me, it's like trying to sleep after a gallon of coffee." Jim felt him step up behind him, felt the urge McCoy had to reach out, though he did not. "Listen, Jim," he said, and Jim could see his friend's brows curling together, even though he was not looking at him, "I don't pretend you don't have a better chance of getting him to squeal than I do, but I do doubt it."

"Bones-"

"And I'd just like to point out that, at least the way Scotty tells it... with this particular Vulcan... there are... other resources available to us."

Jim turned to him, but McCoy's expression had not changed from the one he had imagined. He knew Scotty well enough now to not be surprised. The real shocker was that the whole senior staff did not know -- or perhaps they did.

"I don't know about that," he said.

"Jim, it's not your fault Spock's refusing to talk. When it's a secret that's threatening his life, I'd say you're within your rights. But, hey," McCoy shrugged, "your call. But get it out of one of them... him. Please."

Jim nodded and the doctor left, somewhat reluctantly. Once he had left, Jim returned to his desk.

"Bridge," he sighed, pressing the comm unit's button. "Helm." Again, he thought to himself.

"Everything all right, Captain?"

Jim scoffed at the greeting. Sulu must have been getting curious along with the rest of them. "Increase speed to maximum warp, Mister Sulu."

"... Aye, sir."

That done, Jim sat back and considered. Spock... older Spock... would be happy to hear from him, that was for sure, at least until he heard the topic of discussion. And his own Spock was pushing him toward this, giving him no other option.

He sighed and reached forward again with an eye-roll. "Uhura."

"Yes, sir?" Quickly, like she had been waiting to hear his voice.

"Get me a secure subspace channel with Ambassador Sarek."

There was a pause which Jim took for surprise at first, but then came, "Have it, sir. Shall I patch it through to your quarters?"

He had always loved that woman. "Yes, please."

He steeled himself for a conversation, however brief, with Spock's father. He always got the impression that Sarek did not care much for him. Truthfully, Sarek could seem that way to anyone, he hardly knew Jim, and given that he was more accustomed to Humans than most Vulcans, logically, that seemed unlikely, but he had never gone to any lengths to reassure Jim otherwise, and for that matter, neither had Spock.

Then the screen flipped on and he blinked at the woman‘s face he was presented with. Uhura had patched him through to the house, naturally, and he forced a smile for the servant where he would not have bothered or even avoided it with the ambassador.

"Hello." Jim shifted in his seat. "I was wondering if Ambassador Spock is planetside... uh, and home."

"He is planetside," she said. "However, he is not home. I can patch you through to the embassy."

Instinct was to protest and assure her that it could wait if he was working. But truthfully, Jim was not sure it could wait.

"Yes, please, thank you."

The screen cut and Jim was presented with the House symbol while he waited.

He waited so many minutes that his face was in his hand when he heard, "Jim."

Jim glanced up over his fingers. Spock's eyes, usually pleased at a call from him, were troubled. He pushed a smile. "Hey, old man," he said.

"Something is wrong," Spock assessed. Perhaps he had been pleased, until he had seen Jim's face.

Jim sat up, letting the smile fade. "Yeah," he said gruffly, and then, "Yes," more loudly.

Spock's face, always more changeable than his own Spock's, grew visibly more concerned.

"I'm all right," Jim assured him, certain that was the other's thought process. It would be his Spock's, and the two were not so different as they would like to think. "It's Spock."

Spock's eyebrow arched. "Is he aware that you are speaking to me about him?"

"Look," Jim leaned forward, "he won't talk to me. And it's bad. So I need someone who will."

"Then he does not."

"I'm not so interested in the ethics of the situation right now."

"... I see." Spock's eyes drifted down, then met Jim's again. "What is the problem?"

"That's just it, he won't tell me." Jim hesitated then, wondering if he was sounding like a child, but something about the elder Spock brought that out in him. He could be one with no one else, it seemed. "Bones says there's, like... that in a Human it would be like a constant flow of adrenaline and that it's gonna kill him, but he has no clue what's causing it. Spock won't tell him either. And he's been so weird, lately, God... he avoids me when he can, he won't meld with me, he attacked me in his sleep-"

"In his sleep?"

"Yeah," Jim huffed. "He claimed it was a nightmare, but. Do you even dream?"

"How did he attack you in his sleep?"

Jim blinked. "I dunno, he was making noises, which you never do, so I tried to wake him up, and he rolls over on me like he's gonna kill me-"

"Jim."

Jim stopped and looked up. "Do you know what it is he's not telling me?"

"I... do, yes."

Oh, thank God. There went his hope, surging up without his permission, and who knew if it was too soon to be relieved. Knowing his life, that was a virtual certainty. "Tell me," he said, pleaded really, a tone he did not often hear in his own voice.

"Jim." He had never seen Spock so unsure of his words before. He paused for a long time. "I trust you will forgive me any impertinence in my query, but... you are in fact telling me that your relationship with my counterpart has developed a sexual connotation?"

Jim opened his mouth, prepared to demand what the hell that had to do with anything, and then he stopped. "Oh," he said. "I... didn't I tell you that?"

Up went the eyebrow again. "Indeed not."

"I coulda sworn I..." Jim stopped to think, "or maybe I just... assumed you would know."

He watched Spock think more. "Understand, Jim, my reaction is not... surprise... in any more than your neglect to inform me, that is. But... I do admit to some measure of trepidation."

Jim's stomach sank, the way it had any time he had been scolded by an instructor he had actually respected at the Academy, the way it still did if Admiral Pike found cause to be disappointed in him. But self-pity or wallowing was a luxury he could not afford.

"Look... Ambassador, we can... talk about that later, I guess," he said. "Right now, I just need to know what's wrong with Spock."

"I am not a tangential person, Jim," Spock told him, like he did not know this. "I clarify this for a reason. Your relationship has everything to do with what ails my counterpart."

For a not tangential person, Spock was certainly making Jim feel like they were going in circles. He opened his mouth to ask questions, but all that came out was, "Explain." And then, because Spock was not one of his crew, at least not anymore, "Please."

"It is not something spoken of among out-worlders-"

"Yeah, I know, he told me that," Jim said, beyond flustered.

"But there are exceptions," Spock went on, as though he had never been interrupted, but for the stern look. "Once a Vulcan male has reached maturity, he must mate every seven years. The only alternative is death. The time is called pon farr."

"Uh..." Jim debated how to word what he wanted to say tactfully. "Well... we've sort of... been taking care of that."

Spock looked unamused, a rarity in the elder. "This time is different. It is a madness, an utter lack of control, a violence. It is most shameful."

"Ambassador," Jim squeezed his eyes shut and gave a disbelieving cough, "this explains why Spock didn't want to talk about it... I guess. But I'm afraid you're going to have to spell out the problem for me, 'cause I'm not seeing it. I mean, you obviously got through it, didn't you guys just... uh, well." Jim licked his lips. He had had so many questions over the course of their acquaintance, but he never liked bringing up his own counterpart with the elder Spock. It felt like crashing a funeral.

The following pause was the longest yet. "Jim." Spock briefly closed his eyes. "I believe you are operating under the false assumption that my own relationship with your counterpart was sexual."

Jim froze. He had... he had melded with this Spock, had seen so much that would have led him to that assumption, and even if he had not, he had felt what Spock had upon seeing him for the first time on Delta Vega, and that at least, had been unmistakable. And he was certain of his feelings for his own Spock, independent from the elder's influence. He had imagined it no other way. Someone may as well have told him that he was operating under the false assumption that the grass was green.

"You never..." He could not force out more. Knowing this made his own relationship feel sorely inappropriate, and he was in no fit state of mind to assure himself otherwise.

"Our relationship was... complex," Spock said and Jim had to suppress the no shit. "I, like your own Spock, had spent the entirety of my life learning to control my emotions, and you were... he was..."

Spock abruptly stopped talking, eyes averted from him and Jim felt a jolt of discomfort like he did around crying women. "Take your time," he told him, though he had no idea if it was the right thing to say.

"... I knew quite early in our relationship that I loved him." Jim wondered how much it had cost him, to learn to say that word as easily as a Human. "It was a most alarming realization, but I could not ignore it. It would have been illogical. He had turned the light on in a dark room -- it was not just that I saw it, it was that by it, I saw all else. I could not unsee it."

Jim quietly gulped down the lump in his throat and waited.

"My Time came," Spock continued. "I avoided my captain, as my counterpart has been avoiding you, for shame and for fear that in my state of mind, I might seek him out and reveal all. I returned to my planet to engage in the koon-ut-kalifee with a mate who had been chosen for me in childhood. He and Doctor McCoy followed; tradition dictated -- dictates -- that closest friends be present. My mate challenged and selected Jim as her champion. We were forced into combat against one another."

It was like listening to the tales Sam used to weave out of his comic books for him, late at night, under the covers with a flashlight. Jim sat, morbidly fascinated.

"The ingenuity of Doctor McCoy saved us both, but for a time... I believed I had killed him."

Jim wanted to ask how that had felt, what McCoy had done to save him, what Spock had done after. He pressed his lips closed, running his tongue along the seam they created.

"I returned, was informed he was alive, and the relief... was indescribable. I could not risk losing it again."

Jim blinked, suddenly in the present again. "Wait," he said. "You never told him?"

Spock looked like he had no desire to answer that question. "I believe we both knew," he said after a moment. "There were several melds over the years, and as vulnerable as I was to him, my shields surely could not have prevented all. And I... believe he felt the same. But no. I never told him."

Jim gaped at him and bit his lip to keep his jaw still. The resonance with himself was unavoidable and suddenly, he had not felt so close to tears in years.

"Understand, Jim, I would have," Spock said. "It was not my own fear of my emotions... but myself. Relationships between males are not unheard of on my home planet, but never between those who would face the plak tow -- the blood fever -- simultaneously. The mating of the Time is so violent, and a male is so often viewed by another as a challenge. The strongest of Vulcan warriors have avoided it, and to ask it of a Human..."

Jim stared. There are some things I would not ask of you.

"No doubt," Spock said, a sympathetic look in his eyes, "my counterpart is aware of this."