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Subject: NEW2LIST A Shattered Mind, K/S, PG13 1/1
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Title: A Shattered Mind
Author: kira-nerys
Pairing K/S
Rating: PG13, m/m slash, h/c.
Summary: Spock and Kirk are caught in an energy surge on their way back
this, only pleasure.
Feedback: Please, send feedback either to the list or to kira at
kardasi.com
Homepage: http://www.kardasi.com
NOTE: Previously published in the K/S zine "Legends 2" published by
MKASHEF Enterprises. www.asidozines.com

A Shattered Mind
by kira-nerys.

I think I fell in love with him the very first day. As the transporter
effect shimmered, the world fell into place and there he stood, behind
the console, ready to welcome his new captain.

Of course I knew who he was before I got there. I had studied the
personnel files to familiarize myself with my crew, as any good
commander would, but nothing had prepared me for Spock.

My first officer was tall, handsome, and so very intimidating. It was a
novel experience for me, to come across anyone who could make me feel
that way - intimidated and attracted at the same time. Something
emotional shifted inside me. I'd never responded with such intensity to
a man before, and the sensation was unsettling

It wasn't that he was a man. I had looked, and even taken a few to bed,
but nobody ever made me feel the way he did. His black eyes saw right
through me, right down to my core with little effort.

It took a while for me to get used to him. He might have thought that I
was avoiding him those first few weeks, and maybe I did. I certainly
didn't go looking for him unless I really had to, and never outside the
line of duty. Gradually though, I felt more comfortable around him, but
I think to this day that Spock might believe that I stayed out of his
way because he's Vulcan. That had nothing to do with it. Well, maybe a
little, but not for the reasons he might have believed. I've considered
explaining myself to him, but it would be awkward. What could I possibly
say that wouldn't make our relationship strained and uncomfortable?

I didn't avoid him because of his logic or his heritage. It was because
he is beautiful, because he made my palms sweat and my mouth water. It
was because he made my insides tingle and my hands ache to reach out and
touch his shiny black hair to see if it felt as soft as a raven's wing,
to find out if his skin was as warm as I had imagined so many times,
lying awake at night, fighting the images of him.

It's true, the attraction was there from the first moment I laid eyes on
him. Those feelings frightened me because he seemed so unattainable, so
disinterested in anything carnal. Even so, he had a magnetic sensuality
about him that drove me crazy. Every cell in my being told me he was
what I wanted, but of course I held back for other reasons. The most
important of them all is that he's my first officer.

Despite that, I couldn't avoid him forever. Life on the Enterprise
demanded that I spend a lot of my time working with Spock, and after a
time, I sought him out even when I was off duty. He completed me, right
from the very start, understood me better than anyone and it was hard
for me not to show him how I felt, but I did what I could. Still, I was
drawn to him, and I think he sought my companionship as well. As the
months passed, we grew close. He became my right hand in everything that
mattered. Sometimes I swear he could read my mind, because he responded
to my orders before I voiced them. It was as though he knew what I was
thinking even before I did.

*  *  *

My second year as captain of the USS Enterprise was when it happened.
Spock and I were on our way back from a diplomatic function. At first it
was a textbook shuttlecraft accident. We'd both gone through simulations
countless times at the Academy. The craft tilted violently as an energy
surge hit us. Spock leaned over his console, his fingers moving swiftly
across the panel.

"Report," I barked, but there was no immediate reply. I waited.

"Inconclusive, Captain," he finally said. "I cannot decipher the
readings. We are caught by an unspecified spatial phenomenon."

"Hail the Enterprise."

"I have already attempted to do so, but Mr. Scott is not responding. In
fact, long-range scanners indicate that there are no ships in the
vicinity."

I frowned, and wondered what might have happened to the Enterprise. My
first concern would always be the ship and my crew, but since we were
unable to communicate with anyone, there was nothing I could do. I
clamped down on my frustration and slid into the chair beside Spock,
scanning the readings. Nothing gave us any clue what might have hit us.
It was as though the energy surge had appeared and disappeared within
the space of a heartbeat.

"Are we badly hit?"

"No, Captain, the shuttlecraft sustained no damage."

"Then we should find the Enterprise without problems."

"If she were here, I would agree, but she is not."

"But she has to be around here somewhere," I said confidently. We were
supposed to rendezvous with the ship not far from our current position.

"Indeed, and yet I cannot locate the ship. It is as though she
has.disappeared."

Spock's voice was deep and factual, but with an underlying hint of
distress. Thousands of cold little feet marched across my spine. I didn'
t ordinarily succumb to that kind of thing, and I had no intention of
starting now, but much as I fought it, the feeling of impending doom
wouldn't leave me.

I should just learn to always trust my instincts.

*  *  *

We eventually realized that it wasn't the Enterprise that had
disappeared. We had.

We searched space for almost twenty-four hours, in close proximity to
the place where we were supposed to have met the ship, and were still
unable to find her. But even with the small resources of the
shuttlecraft, Spock was able to determine that wherever we were, it was
no place we had visited before. The planets weren't quite the same, the
positions of the star constellations were slightly skewed to us, and
there was no Enterprise.

In fact, there didn't seem to be a sentient being within light-years.
The closest we ever got was a planet we had passed twice now in our
search for the ship. It had several nasty-looking predators, fish and
mammals of many different kinds, but no intelligent life forms.

"There are only two options, Captain," Spock finally said.

"Tell me," I said patiently, unaccustomed to Spock's hesitancy.

"Either the spatial phenomenon has pulled us very far into the past or
into some parallel dimension."

I snorted. "It figures."

Spock lifted an eyebrow at me but didn't comment. I leaned over his
shoulder, checking the readings on the panel in front of him.

"How do you make that conclusion?" I asked and rubbed my nose. I was
getting a headache. I had slept far less than I should have over the
last few days, and the shuttle wasn't exactly the Royal Star Hilton.

"Space looks almost exactly the same as the coordinates where we were
supposed to meet the Enterprise," Spock explained patiently. "The
difference is miniscule, but there. The star systems have shifted
approximately .02 percent."

"Uh-huh", I said. "And there is no life - at least no sentient life.
None at all, except you and me?"

"Exactly."

It sounded impossible, but then again, I knew that bizarre events were a
part of the job. We'd both seen our share of unusual phenomena since
signing on for Starfleet.

"We must land soon, Captain," Spock said. "We no longer have
 warp-drive."

I hated giving up, but conceded Spock's point. We were running out of
fuel and there was no way we would get any closer to help, even with the
shuttlecraft working at top efficiency.

"Our best option would be to find the most hospitable part of the planet
and land there," Spock said matter-of-factly.

It was no longer a question of finding help, or to make our rendezvous
with the ship; it was a question of finding a place where we could wait
and send out a distress signal, somewhere we could survive long enough
for our crew to find us.

We scanned the environment of the M-class planet. If we chose one of the
large islands, we could avoid the most dangerous predators that
inhabited the jungles in the southern hemisphere. After discussing it,
we decided that landing on an island was our best option.

"I will attempt to make one final scan before our descent, Captain,"
Spock said, and I sat back in the chair and waited. I've never been good
at waiting, but right now it was my only option.

"Find anything?" I asked after several minutes.

"No," Spock replied calmly. "There is nothing we can convert into
anything that will run the shuttlecraft. The fossil fuel on the planet
is too deeply buried for us to extract."

It was painfully obvious that we could go no further and neither me, nor
Spock, had any idea of how to save ourselves. For the first time ever in
Spock's company, I was at a loss of what to do.

*  *  *

"You may take over, Captain," Spock said, and I looked at him
questioningly.

"Are you all right, Mr. Spock?"

He nodded. "I am fine, Captain. I am simply offering you to take the
shuttle down, since you are a more capable pilot than I."

Maybe I was better, but that was marginal, and this wasn't like Spock.
There was nothing dangerous or difficult in landing the shuttle; at
least nothing that our scans would detect. Any decent pilot could do it
without trouble, but I let the issue go. Reaching our destination would
take mere minutes and when we got there, I would make sure Spock told me
if there was anything wrong with him.

A screeching sound was my first warning that the landing wouldn't be
quite as simple as I had expected. There were large air pockets in the
atmosphere, and they were more numerous than anything I'd experienced
before. Each one we hit disturbed the shuttle's thrusters. The craft
twisted and swirled. I fought hard to keep it upright and from falling
toward the ground too quickly.

The ride down was bumpy and left my stomach in my throat, but it was
nothing we couldn't handle. Unfortunately, Spock seemed sluggish in his
reactions as the shuttle hit a particularly rough path on the way down.
The small craft tilted to its side and Spock lost balance, hitting his
head against one of the bulkheads. The sound was disturbingly sharp but
I couldn't help him. I had to keep the shuttle on course, or we would
crash.

* * *

Spock was unconscious when we finally reached the surface. I brought us
through the turbulence and looked for the first available site, not
really caring about how or where we landed. Once I had set our craft
down, I left the pilot's seat and rushed to check on Spock. Running my
hands over his forehead I watched him. He was paler than usual and my
fingertips soon found a large lump on his forehead. It didn't seem too
bad, but it would probably turn every shade from olive to teal I'd ever
seen in a day or two, unless I used the dermal regenerator.

I rose to get the medi-kit, but when I got back he was awake, and
looking at me.

"No, Jim," he said and held out a hand. "I will be fine."

"You've got a lump on your head the size of Mount Seleya, Spock," I
protested.

"Something that is hardly life-threatening. We may need the medical kit
for other, more serious damage in the future. We do not know how long we
will be forced to remain here."

I had to accept his arguments, because he was right. He closed his eyes
as though he was in pain and it scared the hell out of me. A mere lump
on the head wouldn't get such a reaction out of Spock.

"What's wrong with you, Spock?" I asked.

"I do not know," he admitted, and the mere fact that he didn't insist he
was fine told me that whatever it was, it had to be serious.

"But there is something going on," I insisted. "Apart from that," I said
and pointed at the swelling on his head.

"Yes," he replied and sat cautiously. "I experienced slight dizziness in
the shuttlecraft. It began when the energy surge hit us the first time.
It dissipated quickly, but now disorientation is bothering me. I believe
that is the cause for my clumsiness on the way down."

So, it had started even before he knocked into the bulkhead.

"And you have no idea why you're feeling this way?"

"I have theories, Jim, but no evidence to support my suspicions."

"Your suspicions are often more accurate than other people's facts,
Spock. Tell me what you think."

"I believe that radiation from the spatial phenomenon is affecting me
physically. Since we are no longer in contact with it, my disorientation
and unease should dissipate momentarily."

"If there is radiation, why am I not affected?"

Spock furrowed his brow. "I admit my theory may be in error."

I felt awkward when he admitted that. He was always so certain of his
facts.

"And if you are wrong?"  I added cautiously.

"We will have to consider that problem as it arises, Jim. Now, I suggest
we try to make living arrangements. This place may have a tropical
climate, but it's early in the spring and the nights still tend to get
cold. It will most certainly rain before nightfall."

"Yes," I agreed.

The readings from the shuttlecraft's sensors had indicated that we would
be facing heavy rains every day, which could be expected to last for a
couple of hours at a stretch.  While the shuttlecraft would be adequate
shelter from the weather, with the power levels nearly depleted and no
environmental controls, I knew it would become unbearably cold during
the night, especially for Spock. On top of that, we would have to leave
the hatch open to save what power we had left because the door was
entirely too heavy to open manually whenever we needed to get out. We'd
barely had enough fuel to reach the surface of the planet, and we would
need whatever energy was left for more important situations than getting
in and out of the shuttlecraft.

I looked around at the cramped surroundings. Even if the environment
hadn't been a consideration, space was.

"We could remove two seats," Spock said, reading my unspoken thoughts.
"That would give us more room."

"We still couldn't start a fire. I think it would be smarter to try and
build a shelter on the beach."

Spock didn't argue, nor did he agree, and that alone made me worry more
about him. He always knew exactly what to do in a situation like this.
Not that I didn't as well, but still.

I set to work, and he helped me as best he could, but I could see that
dizziness was still making him feel sick or disoriented. He was awfully
pale, and his face looked a whole lot greener than usual.

"Are you going to be okay, Spock? You look like hell."

"My stomach is somewhat unsettled," Spock agreed and leaned against the
trunk of a tree.

I gathered a lot of leaves and I had started building a shelter from the
branches. With the help of some wire from the shuttlecraft, I tied the
branches together into a stable shelter that would be adequate
protection against the wind and rain.

"We'll have to build something to lie on," I mumbled to myself. Who knew
what kind of animals lived on the beach? Some of them could be
poisonous.

A muffled sound brought me out of my thoughts. It was Spock, and he was
throwing up, violently. I'd never seen Spock do that before. I moved
over to him, steadying him as he emptied his stomach once more. It took
a long time for him to stop, and in the end he was heaving although his
stomach was empty. It was frightening to see. My fear probably stemmed
from the fact that Spock was normally so collected and calm, but I was
also worried because of the intensity of his nausea. It wasn't normal.

"What's going on with you, Spock?" I said, mostly to myself.

He straightened and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, but he didn't
respond, and I hadn't really expected him to. His paleness had
dissipated a little, but I doubted he felt much better.

"Let's get you comfortable," I said, and I almost had to carry him over
to the fireplace. He was heavy, but oddly fragile and my heart
constricted as I saw him look away from me, as though he was ashamed of
his weakness. I didn't know what to say to make him feel better, so I
only smiled, hoping that I would convey that it was all right, that I
didn't think he was weak.

He lay down on the makeshift bed I had prepared, and closed his eyes.

"Is the world still spinning?"

"Yes," he replied weakly. "It is as though my sense of balance has been
disturbed, and I cannot remedy the problem." He stopped talking and
swallowed violently. "It is most disturbing."

"You must have gotten a concussion."

"No, I have not," Spock said, and I believed him. "If it were a simple
concussion, a healing trance would take care of the problem, but I
cannot enter it. My mind is too disorganized."

It went on like that for hours. He crawled out of the shelter, threw up
again, and again, and I was scared for him like I'd never been before.
If he kept doing that, he would get dehydrated, and since it didn't seem
to be a virus or any bacteria he was trying to fight, I didn't know how
long it would last. Dehydration would soon become severe and dangerous,
even for him.

"All right," I said. "That's it. We have to try the dermal generator."

Spock nodded weakly, and I went to get the damn generator. That he was
so quick to agree told me how awful he must feel. But when I used the
device, it got rid of the bruises and the bump on his head just as it
should and I hoped it would make him feel better. We both waited, but it
didn't help his nausea. I could tell because almost as soon as I was
done, he rose weakly to his feet and threw up again, just as violently
as before. Now I was really getting frightened for him. What the hell
should I do?

"We must wait," Spock said. "Perhaps I will feel better later."

But he didn't sound all that hopeful, and I forced myself to leave him
and keep gathering materials. While doing so, I kept an eye on him and
after a while I had to help him get up so that he wouldn't soil the
bedding I had made for us.

"Here, Spock," I said a while later as I sat at his side, taking a break
in finishing our shelter. "Drink something."

He took the bottle of water. I had boiled it with the help of a phase
pistol, and used the tricorder to ensure there was nothing in it that
would make either of us sick and aggravate his nausea. He drank, even
though we both knew he would probably expel it rather quickly. Knowing
how dangerous dehydration was, he drank it anyway.

"Forgive me, Jim," he said.

I looked at him. His face was apologetic.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked.

"I should be helping you."

"Spock, you're sick."

"Indeed."

"You'd do the same for me."

He nodded and leaned back on the bedding. He closed his eyes as if
trying to rest. I hoped he would be able to. He'd been throwing up ever
since we reached the surface and that was hours ago. The suns were
setting in the horizon and I was tired. I couldn't even imagine how weak
Spock must feel.

"The dizziness is lessening," he said. I imagined I could hear a slight
hope in his voice.

"Any idea of what's been causing it?"

"Perhaps it was the energy surge after all. It might just take longer
for it to wear off than I had anticipated."

"Maybe." He didn't sound sure, and neither was I. We had been searching
through space for long hours, and if it were the energy surge that was
responsible for his illness, I believed he should have taken ill sooner.
I didn't tell him that though, because I was sure he already knew, and
that he, too, might be worried.

Hours later, when darkness fell upon the land, I'd almost finished
making the sleeping arrangements. I had cut down several small trees,
and managed to build a sleeping alcove that rested a couple of feet off
the ground. If we dug holes and put water in them, any animal trying to
get inside our shelter would drown, and we wouldn't have to worry about
getting bitten by ground-animals we knew nothing about.

*  *  *

The days on the island kept moving along and we got into a routine.
Spock was still feeling sick. Not as violently as the first day, but he
still threw up more than once every day, and his pallor didn't improve.
The medical kit and its contents were of little or no help at all. I
kept worrying about him, but he wouldn't tell me what was wrong, and by
now I'd gotten the feeling that he did know what was causing his
problems.

We ventured out for fruit and to check traps that I had put up. Spock
didn't eat the meat, but we hunted for me to make sure the nuts we found
would be enough for him. He couldn't spare to lose any more weight.
Still, he never ate much and I was pretty sure his appetite had left him
completely.

Each night when the cold came he lay down beside me, covering us both
with the emergency blankets from the shuttle. We would lie close to keep
us both warm, and Spock never pulled away. It was as though he took
comfort in my closeness and during the nights his nausea seemed to
lessen. For me, it was pure torture to lie so close to him. I kept my
thoughts tightly reigned in, and refused to think of how much I wanted
to pull him closer, how desperately I wanted him in my arms. And yet, it
was heaven feeling him against me, his warmth seeping into me more
comfortable than any blanket.

* * *

One day, Spock came back from a walk he made alone, carrying a wounded
animal. It was a small, brightly colored feline. It had a nasty gash on
one of its hind legs. Probably a wound caused by some other, larger
animal.

"Where did you find it?" I asked and sat beside him on the boulder just
outside our shelter.

"She was lying by the water hole," Spock said. His hands moved over the
creature's yellowish fur. "I decided to bring her back here to heal."

"How did you manage that?" I said. "Most animals on this island are very
shy."

"She could not move," Spock admitted, "And I initiated a light meld with
her. I believe that she trusts me now."

"Yeah, it certainly looks that way." I had to smile. It was so like
Spock to take care of that feline, and I wondered what he had been like
as a little boy. "Did you ever bring home wounded animals to your
mother?"

Spock turned his head with a questioning eyebrow lifted, and it struck
me then that he suddenly looked much better than he had since we came to
the island.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" he asked.

"Did you?"

He turned his gaze and looked down on the feline. She settled
comfortably in his lap, making a slight purring sound as he petted it.

"Yes, my mother became quite exasperated with me for a time, and yet .
she hid this truth from my father."

I waited.

"He would not have approved."

"Is that where I-Chiya came from?" I asked.

Spock nodded.

"Mother allowed me to keep him, but she told my father she had purchased
him from a breeder and that he had hurt himself in our garden."

Meeting Lady Amanda Grayson while ferrying diplomats to the Babel
conference, I had learned that she was a very caring woman. Once more,
listening to Spock's tale, I realized what a warm, loving mother she
was. She must be responsible for many of the warm and loving
characteristics in Spock, and I wondered idly how she could thrive on a
planet like Vulcan.

"Spock," I said. "You look a lot better today. Do you want to eat
something?"

I wanted him to eat. He had lost a lot of weight during the last week,
and if he was starting to feel better, he just had to regain it.

"Yes," Spock said with mild surprise. "I believe I am hungry."

It was obvious that his hunger came as a shock to him, as though he had
forgotten how it felt.

I fixed the meal for us, and we gave the little feline some of our meat.
She ate it slowly, as though she hadn't much appetite.

"What are you going to name her?" I asked.

"Ta'an," Spock answered without hesitation.

"That's beautiful. What does it mean?"

He remained quiet for a few seconds, and then he ran his hand over the
feline's back again. His hand seemed so large against the small animal,
and yet he petted it delicately as though it were the most important
thing in the world. I felt a slight sting of envy. I found that I would
like to feel that loving caress against my own skin. The clear thought
threw me for a moment. Giving my feelings for Spock free rein, or even
thinking about them was foolish. I had wanted Spock ever since we met,
but I always tried to keep the feelings tampered down, and the situation
we were in was so intimate... I looked at Spock and saw the delicate
curve of his pointy ear above the hair that was growing long, giving him
a slightly disheveled look. His lips were curved into a small smile that
he seldom let show, and it made me long for something I couldn't - or
didn't quite want - to put a name on.

"It is an ancient form of the word 'tan' which means gift, or something
very valuable," Spock admitted, but he seemed uncomfortable explaining
it to me.

*  *  *

Ta'an healed quickly, and as the days turned to weeks, she became a
valued "family" member. She hunted with us, and she was much more
trainable than a cat.

I said as much to Spock one day when we came back with several small
animals. Neither I, nor Ta'an, would go hungry for several days.

"She resembles a sehlat more in that aspect," Spock admitted. "Earth
felines are more difficult to train. This particular species seems eager
to please its master, more like domesticated Terran canines as opposed
to felines."

I nodded. He was certainly right. Although Ta'an was no larger than an
average housecat, she still managed to bring prey back to camp. Her prey
was usually large birds or rodents almost half her size. We were both
impressed with Ta'an, and I dare say that we both grew to love her.

Spock's health continued to improve, and soon he was back to his normal
self. I was relieved to see that whatever had plagued him was out of his
system.

*  *  *

Spock's gasp awakened me as well. I'd never heard him sound like that.
It was a mewling noise, like something a wounded animal would make. My
heart skipped a beat for I had no idea what could make a controlled
Vulcan sound like that.

Spock shot out of our shelter without a backward glance. Worried, I
snatched the communicator, before following him.

He found her almost immediately. She lay underneath the bushes by the
water hole. She must have gone there to drink, but had been attacked by
a larger specimen of her own kind.

Ta'an was dead.

Spock fell to his knees, letting out that keening sound again. Then he
threw up.

Soon, Spock was back to the same bad condition he had been before we
found Ta'an. He was sick all the time, pale and disoriented.

He lay on the bed almost all day, only leaving it when he got too sick
to take it. He didn't walk far, and I dug a hole in the ground, covering
it with sand every time he was sick. I didn't know what else to do. None
of the things in our medi-kit helped even a little.

"What is going on?" I demanded, and wanted to shake him, but I couldn't.
He was so weak and I was scared out of my wits that I would lose him. I
thought he was feeling better, and now . "What was it about Ta'an that
made you feel better? You have to tell me!"

He didn't answer. He just turned his head away and kept silent.

A few days later he seemed to be feeling a little better and crawled out
of the shelter to eat.

He did get better eventually, as though whatever plagued him didn't have
the same stronghold over him anymore, but as the days went on, he
started to follow me around everywhere. It was as though he couldn't let
me out of his sight even for an instant.

One day while Spock was still sleeping, I decided on exploring further
than he could go in his weakened state. When I returned several hours
later, I could see that he had worried about me. "I picked some of those
berries you like so much. There's a huge clearing a couple of miles from
here which is full of them," I said, trying to coax him to eat more as
he sat beside me.

"Thank you, Jim," he said, and did taste them, but he didn't eat enough
to fill even a small child, let alone a grown man who needed all the
extra energy he could get.

"I appreciate your caring for me," Spock said suddenly, but then turned
toward me. His face was gaunt, almost haunted. "But you must not leave
me for such long periods."

"Why?" I asked, surprised. I'd never heard Spock wanting me around this
much. Granted, he wasn't feeling well, but..

Spock pressed up alongside me, his leg against mine. The worn fabric of
what was left of our uniforms wasn't enough to keep his warmth from me,
and my discipline wasn't strong enough to stave my jolt of desire. The
heat of his body permeating the cloth sent shivers through me. I tried
to withdraw, as I didn't want him to notice. I strengthened my resolve
not to feel this way. But suddenly his hand landed on my thigh.

"Do not move away, Jim. Please."

I wondered if he could read my thoughts. Didn't he understand my need to
flee, my need to avoid his touch? Lying next to him each night was
enough to drive me mad, but he lifted his head and the dark shadows
beneath his eyes and the hollows in his cheeks left me no choice. I
couldn't pull away, not when he looked at me like that.

"What is wrong with you, Spock?" I asked, feeling the tension in his
body. I finally gave voice to the question that had plagued me ever
since we arrived at this godforsaken planet. "Is it pon farr?" I had
dreaded asking, knowing how reluctantly he spoke of the Vulcan mating
fever. If it were pon farr, could I help him? Could I service him in his
need? But Spock shook his head, and the relief in me was so profound I
felt dizzy. Or perhaps it was disappointment? I couldn't tell.

"No, Jim, it is not," he said at last.

"Then what is it?" I asked for the hundredth time since we arrived at
this strange, beautiful place.

But he wouldn't answer. He simply sat there, his hand still on my thigh,
and I kept struggling to keep my thoughts away from how much I truly
wanted that touch, and how it aroused me. I felt guilty for wanting him,
and I was so afraid he would learn the truth. If I let him inside my
mind, he would know. He would know how much I loved him and how hard it
was for me to keep my hands from touching him in a way a captain was
never meant to touch his first officer.

His hand on my thigh burned, and I hurt as his fingers dug into my
flesh, so close to a caress and yet so far from it. Spock was certainly
not aware of how his touch affected me. I wanted to rise to my feet and
leave him, for just a little while, to compose myself, but I knew I
couldn't. How could I leave, when it was obvious how much he needed me
to stay, needed me to allow this physical connection? Instead of
withdrawing, I put my arm around him and pulled him close. He sighed
with contentment and leaned his head on my shoulder.

It wasn't like Spock, but nothing had been normal since we came here,
and I wondered if the Enterprise would ever find us and if our lives
could possibly go back to normal again if she did.

We sat there, watching the twin suns dip into the ocean, lending colors
to the sunset that reminded me of a blazing firestorm. Yellow, orange
and red nuances stretched like flames across the water, to the edges of
the sea, and the burning light eventually disappeared in the darkness of
the coming night.

We had sat on that boulder many times, growing more and more familiar
with the tropical climate of the planet, but never like this, so close;
this time it was different.

*  *  *

"Spock ."

He wouldn't answer, and he was lying so still.

What's wrong with you, Spock. Please, why won't you tell me?

"Spock!"

I shook him, gently at first, and then harder. It was like he had gone
too deep into his own mind where I couldn't reach him. I took his hand
and held it, and it was cold, colder than my own, and a sensation of
foreboding coursed through me, just like that day when the shuttle had
been hit by the energy phenomenon, and I knew, just knew that he was
dying. Why, I couldn't tell, but he was going to be gone soon and then I
would be alone on this wretched planet. Even if the Enterprise came to
pick me up, I would be alone in the universe.

It didn't matter if he found out any longer. It didn't matter if he knew
that I loved him more than my own life, and that I would do anything for
him to live on. I'd give him my body, my soul.

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt and I felt like a wrecking ball
impacted with my gut.

Spock, is that what it is? Is that what's wrong with you?

Suddenly it seemed so frighteningly clear to me.

Could it be that he'd gone too far from everyone that he was linked to?
Was his mind empty?

At first I thought the theory was far-fetched, but something in my gut
told me that I was on the right track. Here, on this planet, there were
no connections to anyone; not even the parental links he shared with
Sarek and Amanda, no superficial ones. Even the fragile link he shared
with me was gone because I had been fighting fiercely to keep an
emotional distance between us since we arrived here. Maybe his condition
was caused by my fear that he would find out just how much I care.

Suddenly, my theory seemed to gel. Images came to me. Ta'an . she had
followed him everywhere, and for a time, Spock had become more like
himself, and he wasn't sick anymore. Was that it? Had Ta'an's trusting
little mind been all he needed to stay healthy? Had he linked to that
loyal creature and gotten what he needed, someone to share his mind, his
thoughts?

"Spock," I whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Was it too late?

I put his so cold hand against my temple, and after weeks of trying to
distance myself from him, I finally relaxed and allowed my love for him
to flow freely through my mind and my body. The connection between us
roared to life, and it made me dizzy to realize how much I had missed
it. Our link was like a starved animal, much stronger than I remembered.
The rush of that mental closeness was like a screaming desert wind,
empty and hollow. The echoes of loneliness cut through me like the sharp
thorns of Lady Amanda's roses.

Spock. Where are you?

I trudged through the silk-like sand, and it moved beneath my feet, like
a living, breathing, and inherently evil thing. It dragged me down,
making the effort to find Spock so much harder. I had to reach him;
nothing had ever been so important to me before.

I put my hand in front of my mouth and my nose, breathing through the
storm that stole my breath for each step. Suddenly it was as though the
sand became a starved being, greedily needing my presence, never ever
wanting to let go. My feet sank deeper into the quicksand and I worried
that I would drown in this hungry meld; that Spock in his desperation
would swallow me whole. And then the thought came to me that allowing
that to happen was what I should do. I stopped walking and let my feet
sink deep. I had to allow myself to be devoured. This was not real;
these were the deepest recesses of Spock's mind. He was desperate and
starving for communication and closeness, like a convict might crave
physical touch and companionship after weeks in isolation. I sank to my
knees and relaxed into his mind.

And there he was.

"Spock."

"Jim. Why have you come here?"

"You were dying."

Spock closed his eyes in despair. "I cannot fight this."

"You don't have to."

"I must."

Then he turned and started walking away, the sand devouring his feet
like they had mine. His mind was clearly reluctant to withdraw from my
offer.

I rose again and followed him, and the sand surprisingly turned hard,
and easy to walk on. I caught up with him quickly. Grabbing his
shoulder, I forced him to turn around. His body was hard as steel,
unforgiving.

This mind-meld was an unfamiliar place, much deeper than anything we had
shared before, and much more real to me. I felt as though we were
physically there, struggling against one another. I didn't want to
fight, but I had to, or he would leave me; retreat so far into himself
that I would never reach him again.

"Spock, listen to me."

But then, no more words came to me. What could I say? All that I had
wanted - that I had needed - to say for so long would not pass my lips.
But I was touching him, and my mind was open now, my emotions flowing
freely toward him.

I closed my eyes and saw him before me. I remembered the feeling that
had coursed through me when I first saw him nearly two years before. I
remembered the want I had felt, even then, to be closer to him, even
before I knew him. Since that day he was my brother, my confidant, my
conscience and my best friend. I wanted him more now than I did back
then. I allowed all of those feelings, and that knowledge, to travel
through our link.

Moments later, I opened my eyes and looked into his face. He looked so
tired and lonely that I ached to soothe him.

"You do not understand, Jim," he said. "You desire me, but it is a human
desire."

"Yes."

"My mind has gone alone for too long. The familial link I share with
Sarek and Lady Amanda was severed when the shuttlecraft was sucked into
the vortex. My mind is empty and starving without the connections, Jim.
The only way to save me now, after so long, is a bond of the deepest
kind."

"A mating bond."

"Yes."

"For life?"

Spock nodded.

"What would you say if I told you that it is what I want, that it's what
I've wanted from you for a very long time, maybe even since I first met
you?"

"I would not believe you, Jim," Spock responded softly, and tilted his
head. He looked at me with compassion, but the rejection was clear.
There was no accusation in his eyes or his voice when he continued. "You
did not even like me when I first met you."

I put my hands on Spock's shoulders and leaned forward, my forehead
resting against his collarbone. His skin was so hot, and I wanted his
touch so desperately. How could I make him understand?

"Hold me, Spock," I whispered. "You do want that, don't you?"

He didn't answer and I knew he tried to fight me, and what I offered
him. I was hoping he wouldn't be able to. I was counting on his feelings
for me being too strong to deny. Then as I looked into his eyes, I saw
those same feelings I had for him. They were reflected back at me; as
strong, or even stronger than my own.

He stepped closer and put his arms around me. The tightness of that
embrace soothed me. I had accepted our fate that we might be forced to
stay here on this foreign planet, in an empty parallel universe, for the
rest of our lives. But to be here, without Spock? I could not bear that
thought.

"Spock, I wouldn't be able to continue living here without you. Don't
you realize that? It doesn't matter if I want this or not. It doesn't
even matter if you don't want it. You will die! Do you want that?"

"No, I do not, Jim," Spock admitted.

He would bond with me out of necessity, but I wanted his mind in mine, I
wanted him to be my bondmate more than anything.

"I want you to bond with me, Spock," I whispered, and then I put my lips
to his.

My heart fluttered in my chest, and he sighed, pulling me closer. I
could feel him give up, and the sandstorm in his mind silenced into a
calm, safe haven as we kissed.

"Are you certain, Jim?" he said.

"Yes, Spock, I'm sure."

"Very well."

*  *  *

A sound woke me out of my trance.

"Captain Kirk."

It was Scotty.

"Captain Kirk, respond!"

I threw myself at the communicator lying beside me in the grass. I had
almost stopped bringing it with me whenever we left the shelter on the
beach, but I hadn't quite lost hope that we would be rescued and my
Starfleet training was too ingrained in me. Now I was grateful for that.

"Kirk here!"

"Captain!" Scotty's voice was relieved.

Then everything happened very quickly. With Spock still in a trance, or
perhaps a coma, they beamed us up. He was shipped off to Sickbay on an
anti-grav stretcher. I walked there on my own accord, but Bones' eyes
didn't leave me for a second.

"You look like hell," was all he said, but I could see the satisfaction
and relief in his eyes as he ran all possible kinds of scanners over my
body.

"You're in better shape than I'd expected."

"How did you find us?"

"I don't know all the details," McCoy admitted. "But from what I know,
we waited around for twenty-four hours at the rendezvous point before we
started searching. Scotty made some adjustments to the scanner and found
a spatial phenomenon we have never encountered before."

"And that was the one we got sucked into?" I wondered.

"I guess so. Leave it up to Captain Kirk to be sucked into a parallel
dimension. When you go AWOL you don't do it by half!"

I couldn't help laughing.

"All right," McCoy said. "You're okay. I didn't expect to be saying this
anytime soon, but you can dig into some of those empty carbohydrates you
love so much, if you absolutely want to. Just don't overdo it!"

It felt familiar and like I was home listening to McCoy rant on. It was
his standard rant. If he'd been seriously worried about either Spock or
me, he'd have been quiet and had a tense look on his face. Hearing him
go on about my diet made me relax more than anything else would have.

"So, how is Spock?"

"He's fine. Nothing wrong with him that a decent amount of food won't
take care of."

"What about the trance?"

"He came out of that as soon as we entered Sickbay."

"So, can I go see him?"

"Sure." McCoy halted and looked at me with a strange look on his face.
The he drew a deep breath and continued. "Tell you what, Jim. I'll even
let you take him out of Sickbay if you make sure he gets a decent meal."

"Are you saying I should take Spock out to dinner?"

McCoy grinned. "Yeah, maybe that's exactly what I'm saying."

* * *

As soon as I entered, Spock threw his legs over the side of the bed and
sat up.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Much better," he agreed.

"What happened?"

Something had happened, or rather something hadn't. I woke out of the
trance, but Spock didn't ... and everything was the same as it was
before the meld. I was still me, and the bond wasn't there. At least I
couldn't feel it.

"Nothing happened, Jim," Spock said. "You need not worry. I managed to
stop the bonding before it became permanent."

"What are you talking about?" I felt as though someone had kicked me in
the gut.

"I am simply saying that when I heard the call from the Enterprise, I
stopped the bonding. I should not have let you persuade me."

"Spock," I said and sank down on the chair beside his sickbed. "I didn't
ask you to bond us just because your life was in jeopardy."

"I know."

"So, what is it that you are saying?"

"I am saying that it is not enough that you care for me, Jim."

A cold hand twisted my gut, and I couldn't get the words across my lips.
But I understood.

"Oh."

I must have misunderstood. He didn't want me. That was the problem. I
could have screamed or I could have cried. But I didn't. I just stood
and looked him in the eye.

"I see, Spock. I'm sorry."

Then I left. Knowing Spock, he would probably want to talk about it, but
right now I couldn't. I had put it all on the line. I had told him that
I loved him and now... I just couldn't face it. Not right away.

It took me a few hours of soul searching. I'd never loved before. Not
like this, and I knew that this time my feelings would be difficult to
ignore. Spock would always be there, but we were both officers, and I
knew we would get through this. So, finally, I rose from my bed and
walked over to Spock's quarters. I knew he'd be there.

*  *  *

"Good night, mother."

The screen flickered and went black. Spock swiveled in his chair and met
my gaze for a fraction of a second as I entered his quarters. Then he
looked down on his hands, folded in his lap.

"Spock," I said.

He didn't reply. He didn't even look up at first. Not until I asked him
to. Then he finally met my gaze and I realized why he had hidden his
eyes from me. They were as open as I'd ever seen them, as though he was
unable to control the pain. For there was pain and it nearly broke me to
understand that I was the cause.

"You don't understand, Spock," I said.

"Then perhaps you had better explain to me, Captain."

Captain, not Jim.

"I have wanted you for a long time, Spock, longer than you realize. And
if I had known that you wanted the same thing, I would have acted very
differently."

"You disliked me from the start. I could see the hardness in your eyes
every time I entered a room," Spock said tonelessly. His words weren't
an accusation, only a statement of fact. "I still do not understand what
changed your attitude toward me, but I am glad for it. However, it is
hard for me to see how love can grow out of resentment."

I took a couple of more steps into his room and sat beside him on his
bed.

"I never resented you, Spock. I could never resent you."

"Then why did you avoid me?"

The question was not petulant or even hurt. The look in his eyes as he
watched me carefully told me that he just wanted to understand.

"Because I wanted you. I didn't want you to know."

"You have never had trouble hiding your feelings before," Spock pointed
out.

"True," I admitted. "But with you, it was always different. I was afraid
that if I ever touched you and if I wasn't careful you'd know, even if I
didn't tell you the truth in words. I was afraid..."

"... that I would read your mind?" Spock said. His voice was suddenly
hard and he rose from the bed. "Do you trust me so little? You of all
people would know that I could never..."

"No," I said and rose to my feet, placing my hand on his shoulder. He
did not look at me and there was a tremor in his body as I touched him.

"You made me feel so many things, Spock, so many things that I've never
felt before. You should know what that's like, and how absolutely
frightening it is."

Spock turned around. "But you are human."

I laughed shakily. "Yeah, I'm human, but sometimes I get scared of my
feelings even so. They are so strong, Spock. Don't you realize that?"

"No, I did not."

"But they are. You made me shake whenever you stepped onto the bridge. I
could barely work those first couple of days. I had to avoid you or make
a complete fool of myself. Trying to hide how you affected me was pure
hell. It took weeks before I had that reaction under control."

Spock's eyes grew warmer.

"I was not myself on the planet," he said finally.

"I know."

"The memory of those first weeks on the Enterprise are still very clear
to me, Jim," Spock explained.

I winced. I knew my cowardice would come back to haunt me. I should have
told him why I acted so strangely...

"Spock ..."

"You do not need to explain further. I believe I could not correctly
read your reactions in the meld on the planet because of those memories.
I was blocking myself, trying to protect myself..."

He silenced for a moment, and then looked up.

"But I believe that I have now interpreted your reactions correctly. You
love me."

"Yes."

"You want me."

"Yes." I looked down at my hands, unable to meet his gaze. Where was he
going with this?

"I am sorry," he said.

It wasn't what I had expected - not at all.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked, puzzled and intrigued. I looked up but he
was still watching his hands in his lap.

"I believe I may have spoken prematurely."

"What about?"

"About the bond. Do you truly wish it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

And Spock finally looked up again. There was a warm glow in his eyes
now.

"Then, shall we proceed where we left off?"

I nodded, rose from the chair, as though drawn toward him by an
invisible force. I had come here this night, determined to get our
working relationship back, and perhaps salvage our friendship. I would
either convince him of my love, proceed from there, or if that didn't
help I was determined to kill whatever else I felt for him. Now relief
flooded through me when I realized that all that happened since we came
back to the Enterprise had been a misunderstanding.

"Yeah, Spock. I want that, very much, but first ..."

I reached out, cupping his angular face in both hands, leaning toward
him. Then, for the first time in the physical world, I kissed him. His
lips were warm and soft against mine and my heart sped up as I felt his
hands covering mine, caressing me, moving up along my arms to finally
encircle my shoulders. He pulled me close.

"I, too, have wanted this for a long time, Jim," he said.

Then his fingers moved to my temples, resting there comfortably as
though they found their true place in this world.

I could feel myself changing. His mind connected with mine, delving deep
into a part of my brain that I had barely used, a part that so far only
knew how to build a barrier to hide my feelings, to shield. I had not
been aware that this was what I had been doing. But as he pulled me
close, I could feel his thoughts, and he didn't have to say anything. I
just knew then, that he loved me too. I could see the way he felt when
he laid eyes on me that first day on the Enterprise, and I felt a blush
heat my cheeks.

He had named me t'hy'la on that very first day. Why had it taken us both
so long to see it?

END


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