Ashayam

Firstly, I do not own or claim to own anything Star Trek. This is just a fanfic from an admiring fan...as well as an admittance to the general public that I'm a total and complete Trekkie nerd now...and I love it. PS I painted this as well... PS please don't steal my writing or atwork, that's not very cool. K thanks, enjoy!

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Spock's eyebrows knitted together in concern. His heart flew in his side, a furious crimson red crept into the corners of his vision.

Get the captain back. Replayed over and over in Spock's head like a mantra. He stood on the bridge as acting captain, staring at the massive screen in front of him. The window for gazing out upon uncharted worlds, now a communication conference with an alien terrorist.

"You have insulted us with your terms Mr. Spock," the voice was dark and gravelly.

"They were not my terms Mr. Valglad, they were Star Fleet's terms. We are simply here..." "I know exactly why you're here," the alien interrupted, his emerald green eyes piercing through the screen.

His voice dropped even lower, "and we do not want to see you back until Star Fleet has agreed to our terms." Spock felt something akin to fear race up his spine.

"By killing our landing party and taking our captain hostage, you have voided your right to peaceful negotiation," Spock's voice held steady.

The lips of the alien curved upward in a sick spiral. "Well then...as a show of our...good faith, it seems we should return your captain," he drawled out the word "captain" painfully and cocked his head in arrogance. The way the word fell from his tongue, with such disdain, made Spock's stomach twist.

"This is the price you have paid for your insulting treaty...the death of three men and the torture of your captain. I will beam him back now," the creature said, reclining in his elaborate chair. "If I were you, I'd assemble your doctors. He will be in much pain."

And with that the screen dissolved into a window that stared down upon the hostile planet. It was a swirling mass of black and blood red with bright emerald masses that reflected the green of the alien's eyes.

Spock didn't walk to the transport room, he ran. He told whoever was listening on the bridge to get Dr. McCoy, and then he bolted.

The Enterprises' sterile white hallways seemed to stretch on for an eternity. He whirled past confused and questioning stares until he flew into the transport room.

The first thing that registered was a sound. A heart-wrenching sound. It sounded like Jim, but distorted. It resembled a cry, a sob and a scream all rolled into one.

The sound gathered in decibels as swirling golden lights materialized around the captain's form.
There, lying on the floor of the transport was Jim Kirk's body. His back was to the audience of shocked Enterprise crew who had just beamed him back. He was clad in nothing but his boxers, his arms painfully twisted and bound behind his back, his feet also bound.

Spock felt physically sick. He rushed over to the spot where Jim lay and collapsed gracelessly on the floor. "Jim," the words slipped past his lips like a prayer.

He shifted the battered man beneath him and bright blue eyes looked up at him. They were filled with pain and anguish and it felt like Spock couldn't breathe, couldn't process all of the emotions that burst forth from some secret place within his chest. "Spock..." the words were barely audible. A whisper. A plea.

"God Jim," Bones came rushing in with a nurse and skidded to a halt on the ground next to Spock. The nurse was checking Jim's vitals, Bones was gathering data. And all Spock could think in the moment was...how could they focus? In a time like this?

"His vitals are all over the place," the nurse said. "From what I can tell so far, he has a bad concussion, two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder..." Spock couldn't keep listening.

"We need to get him out these fucking restraints," Bones said, uselessly fiddling with the dark substance that harshly bound Jim's limbs together. Spock reached for them and pulled at them with all of his strength, but to no avail.

Bones gave an "Ah," and reached for his laser scalpel. Bright blue light lit a trail of sparks down the binds until they came apart. But Jim didn't move. His limbs were like dead weights that he had no control over.

McCoy then attached things to the surface of Jim's skin, he hit him in the neck with two hypo-sprays, but it didn't garner the usual furious reaction from Jim. Jim wasn't reacting at all. He had given into the dark refuge from the pain, closed his eyes and let go of consciousness.

"Because of his concussion, we won't be able to sedate him once he wakes up," Bones said in a flurry of words. "Now's the best time to put his arm back."

"Put his arm back?" Spock repeated in a questioning tone. "Yes, it's dislocated," Bones said using a scanner to run over the area in question. Spock could see it. The bone pulled from it's socket. He blinked hard and steadied his vision.

Bones moved around Jim's still body and positioned himself, the nurse hung on to Jim's body as the doctor yanked the arm. A 'POP' filled the room and suddenly Jim was awake, screaming. Screaming as loud as his exhausted body would allow. It was a sound that none of them wished to ever hear again.

His mouth hung open, lungs heaving for oxygen, mind scrambling for some way to push the pain down. Tears had formed at his eyes and spilled on to the floor.

"Hey buddy," Bones said in his most soothing voice. "You're gonna be just fine. I promise."

Spock felt his world shift. He struggled to regain control of the myriad of emotions that were running rampant within him. In this moment he did not feel Vulcan. He felt human.

 Jim's eyes rolled in pain and confusion.The usually bright golden skin of his face a battered and pale reflection of what it should be.

Bones stood and ran towards the bed that would race Jim to the med bay.

Now turned on his back, covered in a smattering of sweat and bruises, Jim sought out Spock's gaze. More slick, shiny tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. Spock wanted to scan his body and assess the damage, but he couldn't pull his stare from Jim's.

Somewhere along the way Spock had reached out, his left hand beneath the pounding head of his captain, his right reaching over his body. Liquid was beginning to form at his eyes...a startling display of waste for a race built to conserve water in a dessert world.

Through the blinding white hot agony, Jim attempted to focus on Spock, on his deep volcanic eyes that swirled with pain and anger. A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind like a picture book. But the hand flipping the pages was slowing down, the thoughts, the images, being pulled down by an ocean of pain.

"Jim," Spock said into the space between them as he noticed the captain's eyes drifting again into tired obscurity.

The captain gathered his strength and re-focused his gaze on Spock.

"Ashayam," he said softly to Spock, as his eyes closed.

The word ripped through Spock, it violently shook every cell of control in his body. He felt like he was being pulled apart at the seams. But he couldn't focus on the roar between his ears once Bones began to speak.

"Get 'em up here Spock...carefully" Bones said, standing next to the sterile medical bed.

Strong hands reached out and scooped up the vulnerable man curled up in a ball on the floor. With a herculean effort, the Vulcan stood, his human in his arms, and turned to place him on the bed.

Bones and the nurse disappeared out the door. "Ashayam," the word rocked through Spock's brain once more. He felt a hot, uncomfortable liquid sliding down his face.

For the second time in his life, he cried.
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