My prompt for this week:
The aftermath of overthrowing a dictator, as in Jim managed it, and now he has to recover, and a first kiss. Bonus points if the race has orange skin.
It shouldn’t have gone so wrong.
But then, it involved the captain, so Spock should have surely known that it would.
They’d almost made it. Almost made it off the planet and safely back to the ship.
Spock was trying to get the captain back safely. The thing about the captain was that sometimes it was difficult to get him to move when he didn’t want to. Which in Spock’s experience was almost always. He had his own agenda and rarely deviated from whatever it was in his mind.
The mission had been a troubling one. Starfleet’s orders had been to overthrow the dictator of the planet, Naranja. Prior to its commencement, Spock and his captain had argued forever about the Prime Directive. Jim had said that while he didn’t necessarily disagree that this violated the PD—as the captain kept shortening it to—but that orders were orders.
The mission had been successful and the dictator, who had indeed been brutal to his citizens, was no more. A new government was already being established and Spock was preparing for the captain to return to the Enterprise.
Until Jim stopped to speak with a flirtatious Narajan. She had the typical orange skin of her species and grabby hands, all three of them, that were all over the captain. Each time Spock had endeavored to remind the captain that the ship was awaiting his beam up, Jim waved his hands in dismissal and kept up his conversation with the Narajan.
The captain had been conversing for fifteen minutes when the attack occurred. Suddenly a jealous suitor to the woman groping the captain came at him with a large curved spear. Spock had only just deflected it from going straight into the captain’s heart. It pierced his upper side instead.
Spock had beamed back on board with the injured and bleeding captain in his arms. Red blood covered Spock as he rushed the captain to the medbay.
And Spock had been waiting ever since.
He’d seen the way Dr. McCoy had gone a sickly white when he’d carried Jim there. It was a look Spock hoped never to see again.
The minute the doctor came out to where Spock had been waiting, Spock stood. His hands, usually so carefully restrained behind his back were twisting in front of him. McCoy, normally so expressive, let nothing be known from his expression this time.
Spock was not in the habit of panicking and yet there was a moment when he felt choked by it.
“Doctor.” He made it a statement though he was well aware it was a question.
“Well, he’s weak as a newborn, but he’s going to make it,” McCoy finally said.
He did not yet allow himself to feel relieved. “May I see him?”
McCoy looked surprised for the beat of five seconds, but then he nodded. “Sure. He’s not entirely conscious. Going in and out of it. I think that super blood served him well in the long run.”
Spock made himself nod and followed the doctor to where Jim had been set up in a private area on an extra-large biobed. He paused in his step when he noticed an oxygen tent had been set up to surround the captain.
The doctor followed Spock’s trepidatious gaze and nodded. “Yeah, his lung was punctured, so he’s going to need that for a bit. It’s all right to enter. He’ll recover, Spock.” McCoy smiled unexpectedly. “How long have you been in love with Jim?”
Spock very nearly denied it. But instead he told the truth. “I am uncertain.”
“You should tell him.”
Spock’s gaze was on Jim now. “I am uncertain as to whether he will be receptive.”
“Oh, he will.”
The assurance in McCoy’s voice had him looking quickly back at the doctor.
McCoy’s smile widened. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
It took another fifteen seconds once the doctor moved away for Spock to approach Jim’s oxygen tent. He opened the tent and then closed it tight again before carefully approaching Jim.
As the doctor had indicated, Jim was not entirely aware of Spock’s presence though a few times he opened his eyes and Spock viewed little slits of blue.
He was afraid to touch Jim while he was so injured, but he could not help but scoot closer.
“Las’hark,” he whispered. “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.”
Jim’s eyelids flickered but there was no other reaction.
Spock closed his eyes. For now, he would leave and meditate. He would return to check on Jim later. He went to turn to leave, but then stopped, leaned over and gently kissed Jim’s lips.
More blue appeared as he pulled back and for a moment, it was like Spock was in an old Earth fairytale, waking the unconscious prince, but then Jim’s eyelids fell again
Spock undid the tent, exited, did it back up and went to meditate. With new hope.