Sacrifice

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and I do not make any money from these writing.

Title: Sacrifice

Author: Raythe

Pairing: Kirk/Spock

Fandom: Star Trek XI (2009 Movie) – Abrams Universe

Warnings: Slash, First Time, Romance, Angst, AU, WIP

Summary/Hints/Tips: This chapter is heavier in the angst department than the earlier ones. Things will get lighter (and at times darker) as the story progresses.

POV: This chapter is done in Spock’s point of view. This was incredibly difficult POV to do and I almost despaired of pulling it off. But I’ll let you be the judge of how well (or badly) I did it. I’m finding my way with these characters and I hope you enjoy the ride with me.

Again thank you for all the responses. They make all the agonizing worth it.

Raythe

CHAPTER THREE: BAD THINGS

Spock’s POV

“He wanted … all of me. And I said no.”

Jim’s pronouncement about Lord Raines felt like a knife in Spock’s gut, which was a completely illogical reaction to have. The words could not physically harm him, but he felt physical pain from hearing them nonetheless. He had read of humans having physical reactions to emotional pain, but he had never experienced it himself and had never expected to. Not even his mother’s death and his people’s near extinction had caused a reaction like this; in fact, his grief for their loss had made his body feel numb and insubstantial.

Yet what he felt for Jim was the opposite of numbness. Every feeling was sharp and edged and hot. For instance, the look on the Captain’s face, despair and shame as he spoke of Lord Raines, only caused Spock’s pain to grow greater. He almost glanced down at his chest to see if there was in fact a physical reason for the stabbing sensation, but he knew his black shirt would be pristine, no dagger hilt would be sticking out of his stomach.

At least this physical pain at Jim’s words somewhat blotted out his increasing shock and disgust at his own recent actions: lusting after and coveting his Captain’s body, not to mention, his possessiveness and jealousy causing him to threaten that older human, Ryan. In fact, he had nearly come to blows with the surfer when the man had propositioned Jim. Only the man’s hasty retreat had stopped that from happening. It could have gone a much different way. Spock shut his eyes for a moment, absorbing how near a call that actually had been.

His only hope was that Jim did not know why he had lost control of himself. The Captain seemed to believe that Spock merely had misunderstood human mating protocols. But that had not been the case at all.

Spock had shoved aside human mating protocols as too permissive, too dishonorable for how Jim should be treated. So odd for him to have gone from being dismissive of the cadet Jim had been to being in awe of the Captain he had become almost overnight. And now these totally inappropriate personal feelings were arising for the man. And all of this was complicated by the fact that instead of the bright, cheery presence of the Captain, Jim was now all edges and shadows and pain.

‘And these things are in Jim, because of the man who has my people’s future in his hands: Lord Damascus Raines. How can I even think of taking anything from the person who hurt Jim so? I know that it is not logical to choose the welfare of the one over the many, yet … with Jim … logic seems to fall to the wayside for me,’ Spock thought and imagined he felt the knife in his gut twist.

“C’mon, you two, we’d better get to the car. You need time to get all gussied up for this dinner,” Jim said, his voice laced with forced cheeriness, but still the sound of it was enough to snap through Spock’s internal reverie.

The Captain then turned on his heel and was striding rapidly towards the parking lot as if to close off any more conversation about Lord Raines. Jim’s departure was so abrupt that Spock and McCoy had to grab their bags and practically run after their Captain.

“Oh, no, you don’t, Jim,” McCoy huffed as he pulled up alongside the other man. “There’s no way in hell you’re making a statement like that and walking away without telling us what in the dickens you mean.”

“Sometimes, you’re going to have to face the trauma of not knowing, Bones. Even when the desire to know makes you say the word ‘dickens’ in a sentence,” Jim said lightly, but his accompanying smile did not reach his eyes.

The Captain popped the cherry-red convertible’s trunk and began to stow the gear as McCoy looked on, scowling, undoubtedly plotting another vocal attack to get the Captain to open up. Spock did not often join in on their verbal repartee, but this time he wished he could speak as easily to Jim as the Doctor did. He longed to be able to say just the right thing to the Captain to banish that haunted look. But his emotions were still so jumbled that he dared not even talk as he normally would, guarded and slowly, for fear of what might come out.

Jim suddenly took the bag Spock was carrying, preparing to stow it with the rest of the gear. Their fingers touched. Spock felt his ability to speak leave him altogether. It was like an electric current went through them both. Jim’s blue eyes locked with Spock’s brown ones when it happened. The Captain’s pupils expanded so that there was only the thinnest ring of blue along the very outside of the pupil.

Spock thought he heard the other man’s voice in his mind, ‘Spock … is that you?’

Then Jim’s hand was gone and the sense of his mind was snuffed out as if it had never been. Grief for the loss of contact was like another blade against Spock’s skin.
Both men staggered slightly. Jim leant on the convertible’s bumper for a moment and shook his head as if to clear it. He gave Spock a questioning look and opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes slanted over to McCoy and whatever he was about to say, he thought better of it, but Spock knew the Captain would want to talk about this at some point.

‘But what would I tell him? That we experience a mind meld from the briefest of touches? That it is unheard of? Yet it happened,’ Spock though and the urgent desire to know that contact filled him. ‘If I were to touch him again … if our touch was not brief, but sustained … if I allowed my hands to run up Jim’s bare forearms, then slip them beneath the loose, worn cotton of the t-shirt’s sleeves—’

“You can put your hand down, Spock. He already took the bag,” McCoy groused. “Or is hand-raising another bit of Vulcan foolishness like protecting Jim’s dignity earlier?”

Spock stared at the hand he still held out towards Jim. It did not seem a part of him, or rather it was too much a part of him, doing what his deepest self desired while his logical mind rejected those actions. He snatched his hand back to his side, curling it into a slight fist to keep it from reaching out on its own once again.

“Bones,” Jim chastised gently, looking still slightly dazed even as he crisply packed their belongings. “Give your acerbic wit a rest. I know you’re upset with me right now. Don’t take it out on Spock.”

McCoy huffed and his mouth puckered up, but he said grudgingly, “Sorry, Spock. I guess I am a little peeved here with our Captain and my mouth ran away with me.”

Spock nodded his acceptance of the Doctor’s apology even as he raked himself over the coals for behaving strangely yet again. ‘I must reestablish control over myself. Even if one brush of the fingers from Jim is more intense than sexual intercourse with Nyota … I must not allow myself to surrender to my more primitive instincts.’

And what of Nyota? His conscience chided him. Should not thoughts of her stop his reactions to Jim? He knew that she was not his bondmate, but still did he not owe her some loyalty?

His one attempt at melding with her had been unpleasant for both of them. She had panicked, feeling his mind-touch too … alien … and had actually fled the room as though to escape an attack. As for him, the sensation of entering her mind had been like diving into a pool of thick, viscous syrup. There was none of the effervescent lightness of a true joining. More like a sensation of drowning in cloying stickiness.

He had known then that their relationship would have to end, but he had not taken steps to do so. At the time, he told himself that he had held back because he knew it would devastate her. He had wished to avoid hurting her. Only now he realized that by waiting, he had probably made things worse. He could only imagine her reaction to knowing he wished to part from her to pursue Jim.

‘But I did not know before that I could feel this way for the Captain!’ Spock protested internally, but his conscience prodded him, ‘But should I have? Was there no hint of the reactions he could cause in me?’

A flash of memory of Jim’s face reddening as Spock’s hands tightened around his neck. Then later, a gentler experience: after Nero’s death, the Captain’s eyes seeking him out on the bridge, desiring to connect with him, the slightest nod of Spock’s head in response, culminating in a rush of acceptance between them that had nearly knocked the Vulcan back on his heels. Yes, there had been warning that Jim could elicit passionate emotion responses from him. Only he had not understood then that they could lead to something other than enmity or friendship but to … more.

But still his desire for Jim should not be unhinging him like this. It was not his time; Pon Farr was still years away, yet his feelings were hitting nearly those highs. He must speak to someone about this; his older self made the most logical sense. After all, Spock Prime (as he had come to think of the older version of him) had lived for a long time in this body.

If the exaggerated reaction he was having to the Captain was caused by some aspect of his human/Vulcan genes that was just now coming to the fore the older Vulcan would know. If it was a hidden weakness that was now being exposed, Spock Prime would have already faced it. He determined to seek the older Vulcan out after the dinner. A dinner Jim Kirk would not be at. A rush of disappointment flooded him that he would not see Jim’s dashing figure, and luminous smile, at the mostly somber Vulcan dinner.

Despite Spock’s inner turmoil, none of it showed on his face or posture. He appeared as serene as always, except for his downcast eyes. It was Jim’s movements that drew him out of his tumultuous thoughts yet again.

Jim turned to face him and McCoy, the gear all stowed, the trunk shut. The brilliant red of the car accentuated Jim’s blondness. Then he smiled at Spock, one of those easy, loose smiles that seemed to be only for the Vulcan. Spock felt warmth explode within his chest. The Captain looked like bottled sunlight. Brightness given form.

“Let’s blow this pop stand,” Jim said.

Although Spock didn’t understand the phrase, he knew the Captain meant for them to leave so he walked around to the passenger side of the convertible. Jim slid into the driver’s seat, McCoy slithered into the back, leaving the front passenger seat open for Spock. When had it become the accepted practice that his place was always beside Jim? Spock did not know, but he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of being so close to the Captain right now. Approximately eight inches would separate them once he sat down in the car. Less than that when Jim would put his hand on the gearbox to shift. This 28.3-mile drive would be an intolerable, pleasurable anguish. For once he was grateful for the Captain’s penchant for driving dangerously fast.

Spock slipped into the car. He shut the door, but surreptitiously pressed up close to it so that he was as far away from Jim as possible. Spock closed his eyes and concentrated on regulating his breathing. His heart rate slowed and the rush of his blood through his veins became more stable. The errant heat that had coursed along his skin became less. And his thoughts and emotions seemed to still.

It was not true calmness, he would need a day’s meditation for that, but the immediate danger of him … reaching, touching, wanting, making mine … doing something inexplicable had passed somewhat.

His awareness of what was going on around him slowly came back once he had centered himself. The other two men were talking of that evening still, apparently totally unaware of his internal struggles. The irony that he had managed to cover up his lack of control so well from the two men who would have been most affected by it thrilled and sickened him. After all, humans were so much weaker than Vulcans. And that greater strength would have been only one of his advantages over them.

He could have pinched the nerves on each of their necks, rendering both of them unconscious, then he could have loaded the Captain into the car and taken him to the nearest star port and then … Spock yanked his mind off that path. It would not be prudent to think of this further. It might in fact inflame him again. He forced himself to listen and be apart of the ongoing conversation.

“Jim, you do know that there’s no way that Star Fleet is going to let you just miss this dinner unless you’re on your deathbed! A pathetic sounding phone call saying you’ve got a sore throat or something will simply not do it,” Bones said as he pulled on a festive Hawaiian shirt. With the convertible’s top down and Jim’s fearless driving, it would be too cold to be only in swim trunks.

“I’m quite aware of that, Bones. And that’s why I’m so grateful to have the Enterprise’s Chief Medical Officer as both my friend and my backup to avoid tonight’s dinner,” Jim said and gave the doctor one of his impish grins.

“Oh, no, no way!” McCoy yelled.

Jim ignored his protest, still grinning, as he slipped on sunglasses: black lenses with gold frames. The lenses were so dark that his eyes could not be seen behind them at all. Jim then shifted the convertible into reverse, pulled out of the parking lot and accelerated onto the winding ocean highway that would take them back to the Academy.

“C’mon, Bones,” Jim laughed as the speedometer rose ten miles above the speed limit. “I’d even submit to you poking me with your needles. You could give me that Borian Rat Virus Vaccine again. The one that made my tongue turn purple. C’mon, what do you say?”

“Even if I was inclined to help you … and I’m not saying I am … but mind you, if I was … no one would believe me anyways. This is too important an event for playing sick. You’d be dragged to the dinner by Admiral Pike himself, purple tongue and all,” McCoy said and slumped back in his seat.

“I believe the Doctor is correct, Jim. It is unlikely for Dr. McCoy’s word to be trusted. You and he are well known to be … compatriots … in all sorts of questionable activities. Such as when he smuggled you onboard the Enterprise illegally,” Spock commented, pleased by how normal he sounded.

“But that illegal activity ended up being a good thing, Spock,” Jim pointed out with a soft smile.

“Indeed, but nevertheless the Doctor’s reputation for veracity when it comes to you and strange maladies is not well-regarded,” Spock responded.

“Finally, the Vulcan speaks! You were so quiet there, Spock, that I thought maybe the cat had gotten your tongue,” McCoy commented, leaning forward so that his head and shoulders were between the two front seats.

“I do not believe there are any felines in this car, Doctor,” Spock observed. “Let alone anywhere near my mouth.”

“Don’t you love when he feigns ignorance of colloquialisms? It’s not charming, Spock. It’s actually quite annoying,” McCoy snarked good-naturedly. “So why were you silent as a tomb then? I was worried you were still obsessing about Jim’s lack of apparel,” McCoy added archly, reaching forward and pulling at one of the larger holes in Jim’s t-shirt.

“Hey! Don’t pull it, it’ll rip more,” Jim protested. “It’s my favorite shirt!”

“This isn’t a shirt, Jim, it’s a rag,” Bones said, but removed his hand anyways.

Spock’s eyes were drawn to that opening where a hint of Jim’s golden skin peaked through. There was a momentary tremor in his restored defenses both at the sight of that soft flesh and also at McCoy’s unwarranted touching of it. His hands fisted on his lap, but the shocking lack of control from before did not return.

“I was silent before,” Spock, partially lied, “because …while I would normally disagree with you in asking the Captain to reveal private information, I find I am on your side this time, Doctor. I believe we need to know all we can about Lord Raines.”

Jim stiffened in his seat. Spock sensed his Captain’s dismay and shock at Spock’s determination to speak of Raines when he clearly wanted the subject dropped.

“Thanks for the support, Spock, you’re making me sound like the ship gossip,” McCoy said, sarcasm seeping into his drawl.

Ignoring, McCoy’s interruption, Spock continued, trying to put some of his concern into words, “My people are involved in a business transaction with Lord Raines and may have a longer relationship with him if they decide to allow Cerberus to mine on Neos. If he is … morally reprehensible in some way … we must know now in order to protect ourselves. The fact that you are unwilling to even be at a dinner with him leads me to deduce that there is indeed something my people must protect themselves from in Lord Raines.”

Spock disliked opening what was clearly a raw wound for Jim, but he could not in good conscience have his people enter into a relationship with Raines … ‘if he hurt my Jim’ … a soft voice inside him whispered. Spock swallowed and mentally batted the thought away. No, he only wanted to understand as much of Raines’ character as possible. It was only prudent to know all one could about the other side in a business deal. It had nothing to do with wanting to be loyal to Jim above all else.

“Yeah, Jim, maybe hearing it now from the Vulcan instead of me will get through that thick skull of yours,” McCoy said, “You’re the type normally that charges in where angels fear to tread, no matter the cost. Yet here you are asking us to help hide you from Raines like you’re afraid of him. You’re even avoiding a dinner where there’s bound to be tons of beautiful men and women hanging on your every word about Nero and your heroic exploits. I never thought you’d turn down a chance to do that.”

Spock frowned slightly at the mention of possible partners for Jim at dinner. He did not want to contemplate Jim’s proclivity to pick up people wherever he went. Although, as McCoy had pointed out at the beach, Jim had not seemed interested in anyone there. Not even Ryan, who had clearly hoped to make such a connection. The Vulcan’s eyebrows rose in contemplation of why that might be.

“I’m not afraid of Lord Raines, Bones,” Jim said softly, but Spock noted that his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I’m afraid of what I might do if I see him. And I’m afraid of what might happen to the Vulcans’ chance to get a new world if he sees me.”

“I was under the impression from what you said earlier that … well, whatever had happened between you and Lord Raines that you had put an end to it. Yet you’re acting as if you’re angrier at him than he is at you,” McCoy pointed out.

The steering wheel creaked from the increased pressure of Jim’s grip as he answered, “Raines believes I betrayed him. And he made me pay … a heavy price … for that betrayal. A price he threatened to increase if I ever tried to avenge …,” Jim’s voice faded off and the Captain shook his head almost as if to violently clear it.

“My God, man, the way you talk about him, it makes me think that we should be packing phasers tonight!” McCoy said, half-jokingly, but Jim was not in any place for amusement.

“If taking a phaser to Raines was the answer I would be the one doing it. I would already have done it. I have more than enough reason to,” Jim said the last with a vicious yank of the wheel as they took a nearly hair-point turn on the road too fast.

McCoy gave a strangled yelp from the back seat and even Spock found himself clutching the door to stop from sliding across the front seat into the Captain’s lap.

“Jesus, Jim! Give a fella a little warning before you do that again,” McCoy protested. After buckling himself tightly into the back seat, he said, “So before you sent us practically shooting out of the car, you mentioned having a reason to kill Lord Raines. Are you really not going to tell us why? Or do you intend to drive us crazy with half-hints?”

“I’m not trying to drive you crazy, Bones, just … just it’s not easy to talk about,” Jim said as he downshifted.

“Jim, my observations of your character has led me to believe that you often act without thinking,” Spock began and McCoy gave out a bark of laughter at that comment. Spock frowned then continued, “You do this especially when confronted with emotional situations. Clearly there have been emotional situations between you and Lord Raines in the past, enough for you to suggest you want his death. Yet also clearly you have made a decision not to act against him in any way. Why?”

“Do you mean, why am I not acting now or why didn’t I act before?” Jim asked.

“Both, Captain,” Spock said.

“You should know the answer to why I won’t act against him now, Spock. The Vulcans need Neos,” Jim said, sidestepping why he had not in the past. “Killing the CEO of the company that holds the rights to that planet wouldn’t exactly push that process forward.”

“But there must be lots of planets in the universe that the Vulcans could settle on, aren’t there?” McCoy asked, but Jim was already shaking his head before he was half-way through with his question.

“Do you know how many uninhabited planets are fit for Vulcan physiology and are available for colonization in Federation space?” Jim challenged the Doctor.

“I’m guessing you’re going to tell me,” McCoy responded tartly.

“One. Neos. That’s it,” Jim said. “Neos is practically a twin planet to Vulcan. And it’s deep enough in Federation space that it can be easily protected while the Vulcans rebuild their population. Otherwise … with only 10,000 left … the Romulans or Klingons could wipe them out. Spock could be the last of his kind if that happened and that’s … just not acceptable. This deal with Raines has to happen. No matter what Raines has done … no matter what. It’s that simple.”

Spock felt an unexpected rush of pleasure at Jim’s words. Not that it was terribly surprising that Jim would put the greater good above his own, the Captain was always doing that, but Spock sensed that Jim was moved to act not just for Vulcans as a whole, but … ‘because of me. He is most concerned about this matter because of me … yet he is in agony over his decision and I would never have him feel such pain. Especially not on my account.’

“But Jim that still doesn’t explain why you can’t be there at the dinner tonight. I mean you’re the plan’s best salesmen. You’ve convinced me that Neos must be given to the Vulcans, add in one of your famous smiles at this Raines’ character and, no matter what happened in the past between you, I’m guessing the deal would be done!” McCoy offered.

“It’s not that simple,” Jim gritted out and his broad shoulders hunched up. “Even if I could stop myself from going after Raines, which is a big if, it wouldn’t help in the end. If Raines sees me … he’ll know how much I want this deal to go through … and that might be enough for him to break off all negotiations about it.”

“You’re kidding? He’d really do that? Then Spock’s right that he needs to know what kind of guy this Lord Raines is, if he’d destroy a deal over … what exactly, I don’t even know, but whatever it is, its not a good enough reason to screw the Vulcans out of the only planet that will keep them from going extinct!” McCoy said.

Spock took in Jim’s hunched shoulders and clenched jaw. Again he experienced that now-familiar ache in his chest at Jim’s emotional state. But his logical mind told him to look at Jim’s pain analytically. Raines must have done something terrible for Jim to hate and … ‘and fear him so.’

“My objections to … avoiding Raines won’t make sense if I don’t tell you everything, but … but it’ll just make it worse if I do,” Jim said, his voice shaking slightly.

“You cannot know that until you tell us,” Spock pointed out softly.

“Besides my imagination is working overtime, and if Spock had an imagination his would be, too,” McCoy said. “The reality of what Raines did couldn’t be worse than what I’m thinking up.”

“You’d be surprised, Bones. I just don’t know if giving you the details would help anything. Like I said, the Vulcans have to have this planet. You know it, Spock. So why should you have to take on the burden of what I know when even if Raines were the Devil himself … the deal has to happen.”

Spock realized then that Jim was trying to convince himself of this position as much as them. That he was clinging to this idea and only Spock could release him from it. ‘He convinces himself of this for me. So I must free him of the responsibility for it.’

“That is not quite true, Jim,” Spock said. “While it would be ideal for the Vulcans to have a home world of their own, we are a small enough population now that Earth or another Federation planet could sustain us for many generations with little difficulty.”

“But Neos is—”

“An ideal, Jim. Not the only path my people can take. However, it is not a path I would take, nor recommend that my people take if …” Spock broke off, shifted slightly in his seat, knowing that McCoy would hear this, but determined to go on. “If Lord Raines has acted wrongfully towards you.”

Jim let out a gust of air. “You can’t mean that, Spock! I’m one person. This is about the survival of your whole species and culture.”

“Yes, it is. But do not … deals with the Devil … always end up badly for all involved?” Spock asked.

Jim was quiet for a moment, absorbing what Spock said, then he gave a hoarse chuckle as he responded, “That’s what they say.”

“Then please tell us what your history is with Raines, what his character is, so that we might come to our own conclusions as to whether a deal with Lord Raines would be worth it,” Spock said.

“All right. I … I guess I see your point. Here goes,” Jim then squared his shoulders, his eyes remaining steadily on the road in front of them as he began to speak. “I met Damascus when I was sixteen. My high grades had earned me the notice of Cerberus Corporation’s Scholarship for Excellence.”

Spock frowned. “I do not recall reading of any such scholarship in your file, Jim.”

McCoy gave a quick bark of laughter. “From the man who claims to abhor poking into Jim’s private life, you sure didn’t have any issues with reading his private file.”

“I did not read the file out of any prurient interest, Doctor. I did so, because I had to ascertain how the Captain defeated the Kobayashi Maru test. I needed to know whether his skills were sufficient to develop and plant that subroutine by himself or if he had aid and a second person needed to be brought up for review,” Spock explained.

“You say potato and I say potato,” McCoy said, altering the pronunciation of the common word, although Spock did not understand the meaning behind the difference.

Spock half turned in his seat to see Jim’s profile. Again, he had the sense of his chest tightening when he looked at the Captain. ‘Will I ever again be insensible to his beauty? Or inured to it enough that I do not wish to … to touch him?’

“If my looking in your file has in any way offended you, Jim, I apologize for it. At the time, it appeared the appropriate course to take,” Spock offered.

Jim waived it off. A genuinely amused smile lighting his face for a moment. “I understand why you did it. Really, I don’t mind.”

McCoy snorted, saying ‘of course, you don’t’ and ‘damned lucky, Vulcan’ under his breath. When Spock glanced back at the Doctor, the other man gave him a falsely innocent look as if he had not said anything, let alone those inscrutable comments.

“Anyways, the reason the scholarship is not in my file is because I chose not to accept it,” Jim said. “As part of the determination of who would receive the scholarship, each applicant met with Raines personally. He and I …” Jim swallowed, “We hit it off, I guess you could say. He was charming … more than charming, really. I found him amazing. Intensely intelligent, a magnetic personality and … very attractive. When he turned his attention on you, it made you feel like you were … the most fascinating and important person in the universe.”

McCoy commented. “It would be a pretty heady thing for anybody to be the center of that kind of attention, let alone if they were an impressionable sixteen-year-old boy.”

“Yes,” Jim agreed. “Only thing is that there’s a cost to that kind of attention. You want it to continue so much … I wanted it to continue so much … that you’ll do just about anything to make sure it does. Even things you know are wrong or wouldn’t have considered doing before. It’s like a slippery slope with no bottom in sight.”

“Sixteen-years-old is … it is very young in human terms. You were but a child, were you not?” Spock asked, hating the twinge of jealousy Jim’s words about Raines even if they were said in the past tense.

Jim nodded stiffly.

“And yet you indicated that he … I interpreted your statement that he wanted all of you to mean that he … desired you sexually,” Spock said softly.

“He did,” Jim answered and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “And I wanted him back. We … we were intimate.”

McCoy let out a disgusted whoosh of breath. “You’re kidding me! He was what, forty and you were over twenty years his junior? So he gets his kicks seducing children?”

Jim sat up straighter. “It wasn’t forced. Sixteen is the age of consent in Iowa. And believe me, I consented. I … I wanted him. More than anything at the time.”

“Jim, that’s bullshit and you know it! The years between sixteen and forty should be measured in dog’s years, not human ones, because of the size of the maturity gap that exists between them,” Bones argued.

“I would agreed, Jim. I do not believe a sixteen-year-old could consent to such a relationship in reality even if the law said otherwise,” Spock said.

Jim grimaced. “The physicality of our relationship wasn’t the problem. Not really. Maybe it made me think that I was … in love with him and he with me. But that’s not what’s important here. What’s important is what … what he wanted me to do … to prove I loved him, that I was fully his.”

Spock felt a churning in his gut at these words. An image of a younger, innocent James Kirk splayed out - naked and wanting on a rich man’s bed, believing himself in love, when in fact, he was being used, his emotional attachment played, flashed before Spock’s mind’s eye. What could be viler than that?

“Besides being in his bed, what were these other things he required of you, Jim?” McCoy’s voice was heavy with anger at Raines, mirroring Spock’s own sentiments.

“Bad things … as you can imagine. And I did some of them. Actually, I did lots of them. Willingly. Eagerly. Loving the approval he gave me each time I crossed a line in the sand. Then came the cliff … I don’t know why I was surprised when he asked me to step off,” Jim said and shook his head. “Damascus never held a gun to my head … at least not then … to do any of it. My own … weakness accounted for most of my actions. For what I chose to do. I was an idiot. Worse, I was … ” Jim’s voice died off and his mouth pressed into a thin white line of disgust at himself.

The urge to touch, to comfort, overwhelmed his defenses and Spock reached out and gently squeezed Jim’s shoulder. Thankfully, there was not the full-on mental connection that he both anticipated and feared from the touch; just a hint of pleasant mental buzzing, but nothing more. Perhaps it was the thin layer of cloth between his hand and Jim’s skin that was enough to block it or … ‘Jim’s mental shields are up. Damn you, Damascus Raines.’

Jim was so tense that his muscles felt like iron bands under Spock’s palm. But amazingly those bands loosened almost immediately. The Captain turned his head to look at Spock. Although his eyes were covered, the lower part of Jim’s face showed enough for Spock to know his touch was more than welcomed, that the Captain was grateful for his outreach. There was also an agreeable warmth in their slight mental connection to confirm Jim’s outward reaction.

Spock could feel the Doctor’s assessing eyes on the back of his head. He knew that McCoy would start connecting the dots of how he had behaved at the beach and his physical touching of the Captain now. What conclusions would the Doctor draw? Spock did not know, but he shook off the uncomfortable sensation of being observed so closely and continued to touch Jim. The Captain needed him and that outweighed any other considerations. Jim’s smile widened as if he guessed or sensed Spock’s decision.

“Jim, road. Eyes on road. You can gaze at the Vulcan some other time when my life is not in your hands,” McCoy observed dryly.

Jim’s head snapped back around so that he was looking out the windshield again, a blush heating his cheekbones, which caused Spock’s right eyebrow to rise. Had the Captain been gazing at him as the Doctor had intimated? And what was the meaning of the embarrassed flush?

“Sorry, Bones,” Jim muttered.

“It’s all right. Just eyes ahead, please,” McCoy said.

“I thought you were only afraid of being killed in starships, not run of the mill cars,” Jim joked weakly.

“I’m wary of anything that can move faster than I can and weighs ten times my weight. If you’ve ever seen a car accident victim, Jim, you wouldn’t go above 25 miles per hour,” McCoy said.

“I’m surprised you ever leave your precious Med Bay with your fear of … well … everything!” Jim said.

“It’s an effort. Although when I’m in the Med Bay I think of how I could accidentally be poisoned by the medicines there,” McCoy said.

“Good God, Bones! How do you deal with all these neuroses?” Jim said with a choked laugh.

“What can I say? I’m complicated,” McCoy responded then drew the conversation back on track. “So what was the thing Lord Raines asked you to do that was a line too far to cross?”

Spock felt all the mirth leave Jim and the tension rush back in to replace it. Jim leant into his touch as if he needed strength to say the words. Spock willed calmness into him.

Jim said, “He wanted me to kill someone.”