Emotionally Compromised

Pairing: Jim/Spock

Rating: PG-13 (for now)

Warnings: it's SLASH that means m/m love, don't like don't read

Disclaimer: i own nothing, and there is no copyright infringement intended. i also don't earn any kind of money by writing this.

A/N.: hello everyone! this is my very first attempt at writing a Star Trek fic, so we'll see how it will turn out. i'm new to the fandom and have only recently been converted to a Trekkie :). i absolutely loved the movie, and although i have seen some episodes of the original series, my knowledge is rather limited. i am doing my best though and am (hopefully) improving.

before i leave you in peace, there are some important facts about this story:

1) i do like Uhura, so there will be no kind of bashing in this story. i cannot yet say how much she will feature, but i'm sure it won't be a lot.

2) there was never anyting between Spock and Uhura, although they are friends. i hope you are not thinking that i'm taking the easy way out here, but as a Jim/Spock shipper i thought it is the best and most painless solution. also i see no reason why i should start some lame explenations in the story itself that they have both realised that they feel like siblings/best friends about each other when i can very easily do that at the very beginning and already build the story on the fact that they are, and never were, anything more than friends.

3) i do know that the plot-bunny/idea of the mind meld having held more than what it actually did, and that Spock Prime actually is the catalyst for any kind of feelings developing between Jim and Spock, has almost been written to death already. what can i say? i'm still very fond of the idea and think that my approch, (hopefully), is a different one. ;)

4) i don't know why, but i really feel the need to state this here at the beginning as well: this story is intended to be based entirely on emotions and relationships. i want to write about how it could actually happen if Jim and Spock were to develop feelings. the process will be rather slow, but they will get there in the end, don't worry ;). i feel there was the need of writing a longer story where Spock's reactions aren't rushed in any way and there will be time for a slow build in which he can adjust and also confront his fear of showing emotion etc. - sorry if this was random or boring. it's 1AM in the morning where i am now an i think my brain has suffered a little - haha!

5) last one, i promise! as to the rating: it will most likely go up, but when it does, you'll receive a warning beforehand.

please, please, PLEASE review! i absolutely live on reviews! i am happy about any kind of comment, including constructive critisism of course. feel free to make suggestions and ask as many questions as you want - i'll respond of course.

Chapter 1

James T. Kirk was lying on his bed, his back stiff and his eyes, wide awake despite the late hour, glued to the ceiling. His thoughts felt like a lightning storm, whirling around inside his head and his memories hunting to keep up with them, his mind replaying them over and over and over.

Jim sighed in exasperation and sat up abruptly, making himself dizzy. Groaning quietly, he cradled his face in his hands. Why couldn't he forget? Why was he so completely unable to let things rest?

Because you are curious, that's why.

Curious. Jim snorted involuntarily. He really was a jerk.

Getting up, Jim staggered over to the table at the far end of the room. Grabbing the carafe of water, he filled a glass, his hands shaking from sleep deprivation. Gulping down the contents of the glass, Jim willed the cool water to clear his head.

Maybe he should talk to Bones after all. He could give him something, anything, to help him sleep even for a few hours. But no. Bones would immediately order a full-body check and, while waving his tricorder, pester him into telling him everything. Which was, of course, out of the question. McCoy was definitely one of the last people he could imagine himself talking to about Spock.

Or rather, Spocks.

Sighing in defeat, Jim walked back to his bed and sank down on it once more.

Damn them both!, he thought angrily, Without him, the older Spock, none of this would be happening!

For the hundredth time Jim's thoughts catapulted him back to where it all started: Delta Vega.

/-/

"I can't believe this.", Jim breathed, his hot breath leaving his mouth in a white cloud.

The air was so cold he thought his blood would freeze in his veins any second.

Letting his gaze wander over the flat, frozen ground once again, he still couldn't grasp the fact that he really was on Delta Vega, when just moments before he had been safe and warm. On the Enterprise.

Damn it all to hell! Damn Spock to hell! Captain or not, the pointy eared bastard had no right to desert him on some godforsaken shithole of a planet. Some cold strange shithole at that! Jim had no idea how to get himself out of this one…

Sighing, and regretting it the minute he parted his lips as icy air filled his lungs, Jim pulled his hood up, fastening it in place and started walking. Having no idea what direction was north, orientation proved pretty difficult.

…and also rather unimportant when a sudden inhuman roar ripped through the silence. Whirling around in alarm, Jim sighted the cause of the noise immediately.

The beast was ugly, hairy and fast.

Not hesitating one more second, Jim turned around and sprinted in the opposite direction. He could hear the monster lurching after him as he ran, its rapid, grumbling breath much too close for comfort.

Suddenly his foot caught in a rift in the icy ground and Jim could do nothing but fall face first into the snow. Immediately turning on his back, he was just in time to see a second, even bigger, beast appear. It was red and had some strange, distant resemblance to an ant.

Throwing the now lifeless form of the first monster aside, the ant-creature turned its attention on him.

Not wasting any time, Jim scrambled to his feet and sprinted on, once again being closely followed.

There wasn't much that he could remember after that. It was all a blur of running, being scared to death and hopelessly out of breath. The burning in his lungs overshadowed most of the other sensations until...

Until red flames cut through the monotony of the ever white, sending the beast back to where it came from, its high pitched roars growing more quiet the further it ran.

Jim was on the floor, panting and unable to move. His rescuer, dressed in a heavy fur coat, turned to face him for the first time.

If Jim had expected something, this sure as hell wasn't it. Not only was the face he was looking at clearly Vulcan, but what shocked Jim the most was the expression it held. As far as Jim knew, Vulcans were supposed to be stony faced creatures, always in control of themselves and holding a strong dislike for any form of physical contact.

However, when Jim looked into the deep black eyes of this particular Vulcan, he found them to hold some kind of intense gentleness. As well as relief. It all seemed very disconcerting to him.

Before having even the slightest chance of sorting his emotions, the Vulcan spoke.

"James T. Kirk.", he said quietly.

Although his voice was neutral, there was something in his undertone that was anything but. If it were a human uttering the same words, he would have labeled it affection.

His head still spinning, Jim desperately sought for something to say.

"Excuse me?"

Wincing inwardly, Jim cursed himself silently. He didn't know if his question referred to the other actually knowing his name, or to his strange un-Vulcanlike behaviour.

"How did you find me?", the Vulcan asked, still holding the torch at his side.

His posture was straight, back stiff as a board. Jim clung to this one familiar trait as he scrambled to his feet, groaning quietly.

"H-How do you know my name?"

Confusion coloured every syllable and Jim's head was still buzzing with everything that had happened.

He watched in fascination as, yet again, some emotions seemed to filter through the Vulcan's gaze, before he composed himself.

"I have been, and always shall be, your friend.", he said softly.

Jim stared at him.

"Wh-", breaking off mid-word, Jim couldn't help but let out an awkward, disbelieving laugh, "Ah look, I-I don't know you."

Only he of all people could have the luck to be stuck in a cave on a deserted planet (deserted, at least, when it came to life that was not something slobbering or ant-like) with a lunatic Vulcan.

He was so absorbed in his own confused thoughts, that he nearly didn't hear the next words spoken to him.

"I am Spock.", the Vulcan said, sounding anything but lunatic.

Jim was sure he was gaping. Quickly rewinding the three words he had just heard, Jim replayed them in his mind, checking if he had actually, possibly heard right.

The words remained the same, still hovering between them. This was not, could not, be real.

"Bullshit.", although quite ineloquent, the statement was purely heartfelt.

By the time they had gathered in front of a newly lit fire, Jim's head had at least stopped spinning. Which of course didn't mean that he was any less confused, but at least he was trying to comprehend.

Crouching in front of the fire, Jim tried to warm his numb hands, intent on avoiding looking at the Vulcan that, just moments before, had claimed to be Spock.

The other didn't seem to have a similar desire for quietness, as he was the first to break the silence.

"It is remarkably pleasing to see you again, old friend, especially after the events of today."

Jim straightened, more out of nervousness than desire to stand, and turned to unwillingly look at him.

"Er, sir", Jim distantly wondered if that was even the appropriate way of addressing the other, "I-I appreciate what you did for me today, but if-if you were Spock you'd know we're not friends", Jim paused for good measure, "at all. You hate me, you marooned me- for mutiny!"

The Vulcan's face was only partly lit by the fire, so Jim couldn't be sure if he'd just imagined the emotions this time.

"Mutiny?"

Again the other's voice, although neutral, held a distinct undertone that seemed to project his actual feelings. This time it was confusion.

"Yes.", said Jim, feeling the need to confirm.

The other looked up at him solemnly.

"You're not the captain?"

"Eh- no, no, ahm, you're", Jim shook his head and pointed a finger at 'Spock', "the captain. Pike was taken hostage"

Running a hand through his hair, Jim took a few steps around the fire, feeling the need to move as he always did when he was agitated. Once again the other's words took him completely by surprise.

"By Nero?"

Turning his gaze back to Spock, Jim regarded him carefully.

"What do you know about him?"

Nodding slightly as if he was confirming something in his own thoughts, Spock answered him in an even voice.

"He is a particularly troubled Romulan."

This time, Jim was sure he could see something resembling a frown touching the Vulcan's forehead.

"Please, allow me.", Spock uttered then, getting up from his place in front of the fire and approaching Jim swiftly, "It will be easier."

Only a second later, an aged, slender hand hovered in front of Jim's face moving closer as if to touch him.

Instinctively, he leaned back, almost afraid of being touched by the other.

"Whoa, whoa,- what're you doing?", he exclaimed, slightly alarmed.

The strange, warm light from earlier was back in Spock's eyes, even more so than before.

"Our minds, one and together.", the Vulcan said softly.

Later, Jim didn't know what exactly made him keep still when Spock touched him so intimately for the first time. Maybe it was the deep warmth in his eyes, or maybe because his body language seemed so utterly open and trusting. What he did know, was that his touch would be haunting him from this very moment on.

Placing his fingers in some strange pattern on his cheek and forehead, Spock looked deeply into his eyes. And at this very instant, before they even connected, Jim was suddenly sure that this was, indeed, Spock. These eyes were simply unmistakable. Deep, black-

Jim's thoughts were suddenly cut short when Spock's face vanished and he was catapulted into space. Literally. There were stars all around him and so many emotions that were not his own. Too many to fully comprehend.

"129 years from now, a star will explode and threaten to destroy the galaxy...", a smooth, deep voice suddenly resounded in his head.

Jim was almost relieved, clinging to Spock's voice as it carried on telling his tale. It was the only thing that kept him from losing himself in all the emotions he was swimming in. They were all so foreign, but somehow still familiar, and so much deeper than anything he had ever felt before.

"That is where I'm from, Jim.", hearing his name was a surprise and the tone in which it was said sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, "The future. A star went supernova consuming everything in its path. I promised the Romulans that I would save their planet. We outfitted our fastest ship. Using red matter I would create a black hole which would absorb the exploding star. I was on route, when the unthinkable happened: The supernova destroyed Romulus."

Jim could feel the deep sense of failure Spock had felt at the time. His utter despair at having been unable to keep his promise, the compassion for all the lives that had been wiped out.

"I had little time. I had to extract the red matter and shoot it into the supernova. As I began my return trip I was intercepted. He called himself 'Nero'. In my attempt to escape, both of us were pulled into the black hole."

Although the images he was seeing all matched the emotions, there was something underlying them. Something that was just below the surface of what he was seeing. Jim knew it. He could sense it as clearly as all the other things Spock had shown him.

A feeling of horror, not his own, crept up inside him as he watched the black hole approaching. He was desperate, trying to make his ship turn around, but it would not yield, and kept being pulled into the opposite direction and ever closer to the darkness.

But he could not let this happen! He could not die, Jim needed him! He had promised to come back to him! He could not-

"As Nero went through first,", Spock's voice suddenly cut through the overwhelming panic and Jim, once again, clung to it as tightly as he could, "he was the first to arrive. Nero spent the next 25 years awaiting my arrival. But what was years for Nero- was only seconds for me. I went through the black hole; Nero, was waiting for me. He held me responsible for the loss of his world. He captured my vessel and spared my life for one reason: so that I would know his pain."

Nero's dark eyes bored into Jim, making him cringe as all the hatred in his gaze hit him.

"He beamed me here, so that I could observe his vengeance."

Each one of Jim's muscles tightened with dread. The emotions were getting stronger, he felt as if he was drowning in them.

"As he was helpless to save his planet, I would be helpless to save mine. Billions of lives- lost, because of me, Jim."

The pain that sliced through him was so raw, so unforgiving, that Jim knew it would have brought him to his knees, would he have been in command of his body.

Vulcan was lost, swallowed by a dark hole. There was nothing left. Nothing. It was as if it had never existed in the first place. As if all his years there, all the people he had known, had just vanished.

The cold on Delta Vega was biting though his clothes, the snow whipping his face as he stood, watching the blank part of the sky where just moments before had been his home planet.

He had never felt so alone in his life.

And Jim was so far...so far away from him. He had no hope of ever seeing him again...no hope...

"Because I failed."

And then it was all gone. The whole connection cut off so abruptly, that Jim staggered and almost fell.

His breathing was heavy, resembling hyperventilation. His knees weak and his pulse racing, Jim turned away stumbling a few steps in the opposite direction as if physical space could undo the closeness that he had just experienced with Spock.

"Forgive me. Emotional transfers can be the effect of a mind meld."

Although the voice helped to ground him somewhat, Jim was far from composed.

His heart felt as if it had been ripped to pieces and he could feel his eyes stinging suspiciously. The grief and loss he had felt moments ago still too fresh in his mind to be pushed aside.

And then there was this flood of love. A kind of love he had never felt before, never even knew existed. The kind of love where you cared so much about someone that being without them made you feel as if you had lost the air to breathe...

"So you do feel.", Jim blurted out, the words stumbling clumsily from his mouth.

What else could he say? How could someone even attempt to put anything they had just experienced into words?

"Yes.", Spock's voice was quiet, sounding from somewhere behind him.

The Vulcan was keeping his distance, obviously aware that Jim needed the space.

Trying desperately to go back from feeling to thinking, Jim attempted a logical conclusion.

"Going back in time you changed all our lives.", the statement was somewhere between a question and a statement.

Whatever it was, Spock didn't reply to it.

"Jim, we must go. There is a Starfleet outpost not far from here."

Hearing his name again, this time spoken out loud, was like a slap in the face.

Jim. Never had anyone said it like Spock had. It was so heavily coated with...yeah with what exactly? Love? Devotion? Caring?

How could that even be possible? Did that mean that where this Spock came from he and his other self...

"Wait. Where you came from..."

Jim echoed his thoughts unthinkingly and suddenly stopped himself. Was this really the time and place to question the other Spock about this? How was he even going to ask such a personal question?

"Did I know my father?", Jim said finally, taking the easy, and safe, way out.

He needed time to think and there was too much that had to be done.

"Yes.", it was almost absurd, but somehow Jim knew that Spock was aware that this was not the question he had been about to ask, "You often spoke of him as being your inspiration for joining Starfleet. He proudly lived to see you become Captain of the Enterprise."

"Captain.", Jim echoed dully, not knowing what else to say.

But Spock had already turned around, leading the way out of the cave.

"A ship we must return you to as soon as possible."

-/-

"You're coming with us, right?", Jim asked, hope thick in his voice.

A shadow fell over Spock's expression.

"No, Jim, that is not my destiny."

"Your dest-"

He needed a moment to comprehend the Vulcan's words.

"he-", Jim tried again, failing once more, before finally getting a grip, "the other Spock is not gonna believe me. You have to explain to him what happened."

The reply was so immediate, it could almost be described as an interruption. Spock's gaze on him was intense. The familiarity between them growing by the minute.

Jim still had some problems accepting that.

"Under no circumstances can he be made aware of my existence. You must promise me this."

Staring at the Vulcan, Jim's eyes widened in realisation.

"You're telling me I-I can't tell you that I'm following your own orders? Why not? What happens?"

This sounded bizarre, even to his own ears.

"Jim", Spock's eyes bored into him, hot and intense and along with his name being uttered in the Vulcan's special manner once more it made him shiver, "this is one rule you cannot break. To stop Nero, you alone must take command of your ship."

"How? Over your dead body?", Jim joked lamely, too overwhelmed with intensity.

Jokes had always been a way for him to cover up his emotions. This time it left him strangely unsatisfied.

The look Spock gave him made him believe, once again, that the other knew exactly what was going on inside him.

"Preferably not.", he stated mildly, as if he knew how to handle Jim in any situation, "However, there is Starfleet regulation 619. 619 states that any command officer, who is emotionally compromised by the mission at hand, must resign said command."

He didn't really just say what Jim thought he'd said...?

"So you-you're saying I have to emotionally compromise you... guys."

Spock's expression was even more open now. Jim found it hard to believe that this creature was supposed to have even the slightest thing in common with the Spock he knew.

Could the Spock from his world ever look like this? Be this open...with him?

"Jim, I just lost my planet.", the words brought him back to the Spock that was currently with him, "I can tell you, I am emotionally compromised. What you must do is get me to show it."

/-/

And Jim had. He had managed to get Spock to show emotion. Anger, heartbreak, defeat, self-loathing... But that was not what he wanted from Spock now, was it?

The biggest problem, Jim mused, was probably that he didn't exactly know what he wanted from his First Officer.

He knew what he felt when he saw Spock, even the mere thought of him was enough to make his heart race and his breath quicken. He wanted him. That was basic enough, as far as Jim was concerned.

In the past, whenever he had felt the need for sex, the solution at hand was to screw the person involved and be done with it.

This was definitely not the solution here.

Jim knew that he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted Spock. He couldn't even explain it in his own head, because there were too many feelings he had never felt before. What Jim wasn't quite ready to admit, was that it was more than mere desire that was driving him insane.

In other words, he was scared shitless.

He had no idea how to cope with this even a day longer. He needed to either get over it, which seemed utterly impossible, or get some advice on the situation.

Lately, Jim had felt this deep craving for conversation. Not with anyone, of course, but with the older Spock. He knew that the Vulcan would understand, could most likely even help him.

Tired of pretending to be sleeping, Jim finally got out of bed. There was just no point. Glancing over at the digital clock on his bedside table, he saw that he would be on duty in three hours anyway. What difference did three hours in a whole sleepless night make?

Stretching his aching muscles, Jim suppressed a yawn as he dragged himself over to his wardrobe. Determined to face the day, Jim fought his way into his clothes before splashing some icy cold water in his face in an attempt to replace the hours of sleep he had lost.

Straightening up, he wiped his face with a towel, pointedly ignoring the mirror over the sink. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself before finally heading out of the room.

When the door closed behind the Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, all that was left behind of his tormented thoughts and memories was a disheveled bed and a half empty carafe of water.