Title: My Soul's Ease Author: Istannor Series: TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: [PG13] Codes: Summary: James Kirk comes to Gol part 2 of the Tales From Gol Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them, I only check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back. Feedback to Istannor@Aol.com My Soul's Ease "Spock, your Captain is outside the walls of Gol." A faceless acolyte stood at his doorway. It was the second week of Spock's exile at Gol. He had spent the entire time in fasting and meditation, cleansing his mind of his pain and memories. T'Par had already assisted him in severing as much as he possibly could of the link he had built between him and his Captain. Unfortunately, the link refused to die. A headache beat continuously against his awareness as the shreds of the link flapped in psychic winds. He had felt Kirk's surprise at the amputation, surprise followed by agony. He remembered the day he had promised. "Spock, is that you?" James Kirk's voice called softly. They had been instructed to make no loud noises in the ruins, in case any of the artifacts were still active and vibration- responsive. Kirk walked in with an air of barely controlled excitement and frustration. "What are you doing? I've been looking all over for you." The Enterprise had come to give technical assistance to the scientists who were ecstatically excavating what they hoped were Preserver ruins near the galactic rim. "Why didn't you use the link, Jim?" Spock briefly looked at his friend in amusement, then returned his attention to the hieroglyphics. He knew Jim had read his look. "I didn't think I was supposed to use it except in emergencies. I thought you might feel I was being rude." Spock turned and looked at his friend again. True, Spock admitted he had become distracted by the archeological treasures he was uncovering and had almost lost track of time. He looked down and stared pointedly at his communicator. "There are other means of communicating with me. You also have one of these strange devices." Jim looked sheepish. "It wasn't official. I was looking for company and I just wanted to see what you were doing. The communicator makes it an official call." "Let me comprehend your meaning, the link is an intrusion to me and utilizing the communicator...to communicate... sends the wrong message." Jim shrugged. "I know, it's illogical." "Indeed. Jim, the link is ours to use freely and without fear of intrusion. There are no restrictions on it. You are welcome to use it at any time to locate me. Open it. " Spock had to hold back his smile as he felt Kirk's warmth and pleasure surge towards him. "Do you sense it?" "Yes." "It is yours to use for as long as you desire it." "Forever?" "Forever is a term without..." He stopped at the look of exasperation from his friend. "If that is what you wish, Jim." "Forever, then." Spock remembered feeling bone deep satisfaction, as he realized the hieroglyphics held no treasure as valuable. Now, Spock sat on the cold stone floor of Gol and remembered Jim's screams of rage and pain while he relentlessly tore at the link. Jim held on to it with all of his will: "You promised!" Spock could still hear Jim's mental cries pleading with him to stop, before Spock tore enough to finally make the screams disappear. Jim had managed one last bolt of overwhelming pain and disbelief at the betrayal, stunning Spock with its intensity. Only T'Par's skill had protected him from Jim's unleashed mental fury. When Spock felt that bolt, he immediately lost all hope Jim would ever forgive him or understand. Spock spent the entire night after repeating: "It was necessary; it was necessary," until the words became a mantra. They had soothed him not in the least. Nothing soothed him anymore. Perhaps his madness was intensifying. The acolyte intruded into his thoughts again. "He is screaming your name and beating on the doors of Gol. This behavior is unseemly and you must do something about it." Spock staggered to his feet, weak from fasting. Confusion reigned and he had no idea what to do. He could not face Jim: he could not face his T'hy'la and say he would never see him again. He knew if he saw his Captain again, all would be lost, and his resolve would be broken. He did not know where to go. T'Par floated in through the door. "Spock, your Captain's mind and voice shout for you. He is disrupting the meditation of every sensitive here at Gol. You must respond to his call. He is your Ah'Hrak and he summons you. Why do you hide? Do you think a Ah'Hrak would leave and allow his A'Kweth-ahn to stay hidden? If he is the man in your memories, he will not abandon this struggle to reclaim you. No amount of hiding will save you or avoid the confrontation you must have. Why do you persist in this insanity?" He tried to formulate an answer , and then realized loss of control was imminent. He fought for every single word, fought for a semblance of balance. "I... can ... not. I... will... not. Do you not understand? I cannot return with him. I cannot be near him without taking possession of his mind. I will not be the agent of his destruction; I have no choice. I will stay here until he leaves." T'Par looked at him with a face which showed a fleeting glimpse of pity. "You are a child, a foolish child. Your logic and your rationality are suspect. What have I told you? This issue is as a deep as the blood of Vulcan. Do what you will. Regardless of what you wish, what will be, will be. Kaadith." She turned, and vanished. Perhaps she had only been a projection in the first place. He broke his fast and lay down on his bare cot. He willed his human to give up and leave. Then he realized what a foolish desire that was. Memory, detailed and absolute in the manner of Vulcan, played across his mind. It was after Kirk had carried him out of the swamps of Cerate. They were wrestling in the gym late one night. Spock had pinned the human and was holding him face down, waiting for Kirk to hit the mat and submit. "Jim, you are being stubborn. You are defeated. Submit." He should have taken note of the gleam which suddenly lit his Captain's eyes, but in part he, too, was driven by a certain perversity that evening. He still stung from his own rescue from the swamps of Cerate. Spock had made a decision to sacrifice himself for the life of his captain and crew, and his captain had tossed his choice aside. He was angry... angry that his Captain had risked everything for him. Kirk began to tense his back and somehow pushed himself partially off the floor. Not enough to prevent the pin, but enough to prolong the contest. Spock could feel Jim straining and realized that if Jim continued he would be forced to break the human's arm. "Jim, give in. Hit the mat. If you persist in this, your arm will break." Kirk did not utter a word, just continued to strain against the hold until Spock could hear the tendons and ligaments popping, ready to snap. Spock released him and rolled away. Kirk sat up slowly and began to silently rub his sprained ligaments and tendons. "Jim, where was the logic in your behavior? You almost forced me to break your arm. You should have given up." Kirk looked at him, and suddenly they both knew what the conversation was about. "No, I will never give up. I will bring you back every damn time until I'm the dead one." Spock sat stunned as he watched his Captain leap up and stalk away. It took long seconds for Spock to realize the truth: Kirk had won, despite being pinned. .......................... Kirk looked up at the towering walls of the fortress. The sun beat relentlessly down on his head and no amount of sunblock could protect his skin from the deadly rays. He knew his body temperature was dangerously high, but he had no intention of leaving without Spock. He knelt down in front of the gate and screamed loudly with voice and mind. He was the Fruit of Humanity and he required his Second, he required his Anchor, he Needed Spock. His Need drove him and he would not relent. When did he lose his ability to be alone? When did Spock become such an integral part of his soul? It had been a slow process, a tide which ebbed and flowed, until the rocks had been worn down to fine sand. He picked up a handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. Like sand, he thought, so hard to pick one grain out from the next. Spock and I are like sand. Pain gripped his chest again and he cried out before he could stop himself. "Spock, come out," he screamed. "Don't do this. I'm sorry for whatever I did to drive you away, but don't leave. I'll beg you if I have to. I'll be more careful. I won't always lead the away teams. Is that it? They want to make me an Admiral; I'll turn it down. I can't stay on Earth alone. I can't lose my ship and you too." Only silence and the still desert air greeted his calls. "I'm sorry, Spock. I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you leave. You're my brother...my best friend, my anchor. Come out, tell me why you're doing this. You gave me your word." Silence. "Sam is dead. Gary is dead. Edith is.... I killed them. I know I'm a killer. I know I don't deserve to have anyone stand at my side, especially you. It got to be too much for you. It must be my fault." He shuddered and took a deep breath to bring his voice under control. Overwhelming, all the dead that littered his trail. "Bones is gone, too. Spock." He had gone far past pride and so far past ego he had nothing left but Need. There was Need, and the great gaping hole in his soul once filled by his ship and friends. All were gone. He had no Anchor and without an anchor he would be mad. On his own, he was capable of unbelievable destruction. Spock had always tempered his excesses, made him remember he was Human. "I can't give up. I'll never give up. I'll bring you back until I'm the dead one." He yelled into the faint wind softly tugging at his hair. "I won't leave here until you come out. I know you're in there and I know you can hear me. Even if you can't, dammit, I'll make sure every other telepath in there does hear me. Come out," he screamed at the top of his soul's voice, and with all of his body's strength. "Come out, Spock. Talk to me." The screams carried over the walls and across the barriers of Gol, echoed in the deserted central courtyard, and died on the tall watch towers, silent sentinels to centuries of would-be conquerors. Deep in the walls of Gol a huddled figure trembled, and tried his best not to hear. Slowly, he rolled over and held his head in shaking hands. When had he lost his ability to be alone? When had James Kirk become such an integral part of his soul? It had been a slow process, he knew. They had been coals that slowly simmered, gradually heating to a white intensity. Now they had erupted into an open flame. He looked at the immense flame of focus. Like flame, he thought, so hard to pick one tendril of heat out from the other. Jim and I are like flame. Pain gripped his chest again and he cried out before he could stop himself. "T'hy'la, it is necessary. What I do, I do for us both. Leave me. Leave me to the barren life I have chosen. I cannot stand in the flames any longer unburned. I do this for myself, because I must." The tattered link brought Jim's screams into his mind. Spock shut himself off, bit by agonizing bit, until he could hear nothing but his own voice, condemning him: "You are an abomination." ------------------------------------------------------------ T'Par stood at the edge of the parapet and looked down at the desert floor. "How long do you think the human can last in our sun?" asked a second, hooded figure beside her. "Unknown. We predict he will not leave willingly. We will inform Spock when he is close to death. Perhaps that will budge the stubborn one." "You play a dangerous game, T'Par. What if Kirk dies?" "If the human dies, then he is not the one they have predicted. If Kirk dies, Spock will self-destruct from guilt, or pursue his own death. But, if the human lives, then Spock will achieve integration. It is possible it will not be immediate, but it will occur. The pressure is too great on the both of them for it to be otherwise." They watched in silence. The human would rest a while, then shout and scream for Spock. It continued until he finally fell to the desert floor. The last rays of the sun passed slowly over the prostrate form. T'Khut, The Watcher, slept in the distance. "Is he...?" The second figure inquired. "Dead? No, asleep, exhausted by his efforts. It shall all began again on the morrow." T'Par sighed, an unbelievable lapse. "We do not wish the human to die and we do not wish Spock to die. Yet, we cannot force the river to bend, or water to run from a rock. The lot of Vulcan is harsh, kahr- y-tan. If Kirk would be the Ah'Hrak of Vulcan, he must learn the truth of Vulcan's heart. He must learn to contain our flame. He has not yet done so." She turned and looked at her companion. "We will have someone carry water to him while he sleeps and coat his skin with cream. It would be unseemly if he died of thirst before the walls of our fortress." Kirk awoke with the sun. Sand caked his face and the inside of his mouth was dry and full of grit. His skin burned slightly even through his robe. Headache and slight nausea told him he was dehydrated and hyperthermic. Salt tablets and a container of water were sitting in front of him. It showed how far gone he had been: they had been able to approach without him being aware. He sipped the water slowly and swallowed the tablets. He had brought a small backpack with him. It contained a few ration bars, containers of isotonic fluid, sunblock, and five hypos of Tri-ox. He injected himself and began to call again. ............... "Jim, do not stand in the doorway. Come in." He was blind, but even blind he could see James Kirk. "How did you know it was me?" The voice carried grief and Spock knew it was tripled by his own blindness and Sam and Aurelan's deaths. "I can sense your aura, hear your footsteps, and smell you. My other senses are intact." He felt the Human stop in front of him and knew he was being stared at. "What are you thinking, Jim?" "I want to know what you are thinking. How do you feel, Spock?" "A Vulcan..." "Please, don't do that," Jim interrupted. "I need to know the truth this time." Spock remembered his answer. "I am afraid." "Thank you." "Why do you thank me?" Spock asked in confusion. "I appreciate how hard it was for you to tell me that." He could feel the air move as Jim came closer. He fought the urge to move away and maintain his distance. In the dark, he did not want to back away, he did not wish to remain alone. Jim's whisper was hoarse. "Now, I'll be honest with you. So am I." He remembered his surprise. "Why? You still have your ship. Life will go on for you. They will send you another First..." "Stop that!" Jim's shout startled him. Spock knew his answer had been wrong, but it had been the Vulcan thing to say. "Why do you insist on acting like you're not important to me, to this ship, to yourself?" "It is illogical to view oneself as irreplaceable." Even as he said it, Spock felt his heart clench. He did not wish anyone to replace him, ever. This was his home, the ship and the human who lit his darkness, and they were lost to him. "Let me get this straight, after everything we've been through together, you think I can just walk out and replace you with another First Officer and another best friend?" He could sense Jim's outrage. They were fighting, he knew that, but he was not sure why. "It would be the logical thing to do," he answered softly, hoping to end the argument. "Damn you, Spock. How can you have so little regard for yourself? Don't you understand? Shit." Spock raised an eyebrow at his Captain's expletive. It was McCoy, not Jim, who cursed. He heard the Human walk away from him and slowly pound on the wall. He rose and found him in the darkness. Jim's aura led him across the room. "Jim, what do you wish me to say? I do not want to leave this ship. It is my home. I have no choice. Starfleet does not allow anyone with a visual, auditory, intellectual, or motion handicap to serve as a First Officer. The regulations are absolute." He could feel Jim trembling. Finally, Spock appreciated what a toll this was on Jim, how much Jim had lost already and would lose when they separated, as they must. There was no logical alternative, Jim was the Captain, he must continue in the role for which he had been destined. Jim would be alone, also. Jim's answer shocked him. "We can get one of those sensory nets for you so you can see again, and I can buy a little ship. After you get acclimated to the net, we'll head out into space again. Starfleet isn't the only game in town. We could be free traders, or explorers for the VSA." He reached for where he felt Jim's arm would be, found it, and held on tightly. "This is not your fault. Accept this. I chose freely. If we had not found the cure, you would have had to destroy the entire planet. Is this not preferable?" "I know I'm suppose to say yes, but I don't feel it. I just lost Sam and I'm losing you. It's too much. I can't stand the thought of you not seeing new worlds and making new discoveries, because of me." The muscles of his arm were knots of tension under Spock's grasp. The human radiated pain and grief. Spock fought to keep his shields down so he could understand and share the sense of loss he was feeling. His own fears and wounds were just beginning to register through his Vulcan-trained pattern of denial. It was so difficult with a non-telepath. A Vulcan would hear his mind- voice, accept, and leave the words unspoken. Jim heard his pain, his fear, his uncertainty, and fought to take it away. "You will learn to accept what is, because you must. You know I speak the truth. What you are contemplating is a reaction to your losses. I will not ask you to give up Starfleet for me, or your command. A friend does not ask that type of sacrifice from another." Spock felt a feather light touch against his cheek. "Spock, certain things lose all flavor without the right people to help you enjoy them. I have lost almost everyone I value and I've blinded you. I will not leave you to deal with the consequences of my actions by yourself." Spock felt him turn to leave. "Jim, I am not worth leaving the Enterprise, or ruining your career." He remembered feeling he should say that. No, he should tell Jim the truth; he did not wish to leave and live alone again. But he could not allow Jim to make such a sacrifice. It was a dilemma. "Spock...," Jim whispered, "I'm so sorry." "You performed your duty. I performed mine. The result was less than optimal personally, but the campaign was a success." He attempted a smile of reassurance. "Spock, I don't know what to do. I have to fix this. I have to make this right for you. I will not leave you on your own." "I cannot accept what you offer." He heard Jim groan. "I have to go. I shouldn't have brought this to you now. It wasn't fair to you. We'll talk about it later." "Jim," he held onto the cool human arm. "You have lost your brother and sister-in-law; you feel yourself losing my services. Now is not a good time to decide anything." "Your services. Is that all you think you mean to me?" Jim's voice was outraged. "Jim..." "No," Jim snatched his arm away. "No. We'll discuss this later, Spock. If we keep talking now, I may regret what I say. I thought you understood me by now." Spock stood and listened as the steps retreated and the door opened and closed on his world. ........................................... He shuddered deep in the interior of Gol as the mental screams beat at him again and again. On the sands of the desert, a man persevered. "Spock, I'll never give up. You're running. I won't let you run from me. If you hate me, tell me why. If it's something I've done, tell me what it was. Give me a chance to make it work." He leaned back and yelled loudly enough to startle the two circling birds that flew overhead. They shifted in their flight and headed away from the threat. "Spooooccckkkkk." Above, two figures looked on in silence. ........................... "How much longer can he last, T'Par? It has been five days." "Not long. He has not stirred for 3.4 hours now. He has nothing left." "What now?" "We will inform Spock." She found him rocking in front of the giant flame of penance. His shields were impeccably tight, no doubt to keep out the screams of his Captain. She considered breaking through them to demonstrate her power, but decided that was a tug of the ego, and unnecessary. "Spock." She waited as he pulled out of his trance, slowly, painfully. The man who looked at her was disheveled and exhausted. He looked at her from eyes filled with grief and loss. How far had the mighty fallen. When she was certain she had his attention, she continued. "We were unsure if thee wished to be informed, but thy Captain is dying." She watched as Spock ran from the room and turned to silently stare at the flames. It would not be long now. Spock ran, filled with terror. He grabbed a flask of water as he ran. He tried to fight the impulse to hold his breath. His mind flew out searching for the familiar tingle of his T'hy'la's essence. He felt nothing and his speed increased past what he had believed possible. He burst out into the glare of the Vulcan sun and through the gate of Gol, open as it had not been in centuries. He spared no time to wonder about that event, but rushed for the figure sprawled on the desert floor. He fell to his knees and searched for a pulse. His vision darkened until he felt the faint and rapid beat beneath his questing fingers. Barely there, a ghost in the making. All for nothing, his sacrifice all for naught. He could not speak, could not breathe as he gathered the limp form into his arms and held him tightly, willing the soul, the Katra, to remain attached to the body. "Jim, do not die. I did this for you. Do not die. I left to save you. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant this to happen. I did not know what else to do. Jim..." He moaned again and again, pleading with the Human to live. He tried to cover Kirk with his robe to protect him, but could not let him go to finish the task. Spock could not let him go, yet now, holding on might not save Jim. "T'Par," he screamed with his mind. He looked down at the face he had treasured. He willed his Captain to awake and speak to him. He felt for a trace of the human's essence and found the ragged and bleeding link blocking his attempt to meld, screaming out at his betrayal. Alone, you left me alone. Never did I leave you, never did I betray. "I have a thing about dying alone," he remembered Jim saying the first year they served together. "You are not alone, Jim," he whispered. "I am here; you cannot die. I am with you." He bent to brush his lips over the still forehead. Salt, he tasted of salt. Even dried by the heat of the desert, he tasted of Earth's oceans. Water, he needed water. Spock poured the water slowly over the still face and dripped it on the burned skin to cool it. He tried to drip it into Jim's mouth, but he was too deeply unconscious to swallow. The Human's skin was so hot, so dry. The movement of his chest was deep, irregular, and agonal. Spock could feel none of the vibrant tingle he used to sense from his Captain. It was all gone and it was his fault. He pulled his Captain closer to his chest and began to scream again in his mind for T'Par. He knew his call would sound panicked, but he no longer cared. It was too much. He had destroyed the one person he had sought to save. He stared at his captain and was appalled to see what he had wrought. Every wound was proof of Spock's own insanity. Kirk's face and lips were cracked, blistered and oozing blood. The Vulcan sun had roasted his skin to a dark golden brown. It seemed to pulsate with a red tinge from the sun's damage. Already, fine blisters had formed everywhere the skin was exposed. Spock counted the toll, the cost of the Human's refusal to give up on friendship. Here was the result of Kirk's sacrifice. He was disfigured, burned with Vulcan's heat, left to die in the desert when all he had asked for was a Vulcan's hand in friendship. He had pled unceasingly for five days at the walls of exile for a friend to come home. He had refused to give up on the one man he had trusted above all else. "It is my fault." Spock whispered to ears which could not hear. "I have failed you. You cared for me, protected me, and made me learn to care for myself. What use was it all? " Spock yelled to the unfeeling desert. "I have failed him. I am an abomination. T'Parrrr. " He felt a shadow fall across his back. He looked up into the eyes of T'Par. His face twisted in pain. He no longer cared if he disgraced himself. "Help him, please, T'Par. If there is any pity left at Gol, do not let this man die." "Is this not Gol? There is no pity in Gol. We thought this was what thee desired, Spock: the absence of emotions, the absence of pity, mercy, or compassion." She was relentless. She sent her mind out to check the human. He was still in the world of the living. They had time. She watched the young one rock the Human in his arms and clutch him convulsively. "Is this not what thee sought?" "I never wanted this. Heal him, T'Par, please. I will beg you if I must. Help him." "What do thee seek here, Vulcan? Tell us, or dig his grave and bury him where he fell." "I seek..." "Time is short." "T'Par," he screamed, "T'Par, do not..." He stood up and held the limp figure of his Captain out towards her. "I entreat thee. He is innocent." "Innocent, Spock? Are thee mad? He is a killer, a slayer of thousands of men and women. He is emotional, irrational, wantonly sexual, willful, and he pulls thee into the abyss with him." "He is my friend and he..." he could not go on. "What?" Spock's head shook from side to side as his words forced their way past painfully tight lips. "He never forsook me, even now as I betray his trust. We are ni-var and I have sliced my soul in half to see him live, free of me." "That counts for nothing at Gol. We have no need for attachments at Gol. To attain arie'mnu one must first experience konar." Her next words drove the final dagger into Spock's heart. "It is best that he die." "No!" Spock begged her. "Nooooooo!" T'Par gave him a mental slap. "Cease thy appalling display of emotions. Have thee no dignity?" "None. I have nothing left. I have lost...everything. Save him and I will do whatever you ask of me." "Thee will do all that we require?" "Yes. I am exposed. Is that not what you desired? You have my last secret. He is my price." Spock was forced to use the ancient term, his price, meaning: paid in blood. "I pledged my blood for him. I burn in his flame, T'Par. I will burn... for him... when my time comes. I will kill for him, without logic. I will slay to avenge his honor. I seek to take him in the way of my ancestors and rob him of his will. I do not wish a Bond. I wish to possess him, dominate him. I desire to own his soul as he owns mine. I would drive away any that seek his attentions. It... can... not... be. "He will not allow possession, he would die first. What will I have if he dies? Even the knowledge that he is safe from me will be gone." Kirk weighed nothing, so light, as if he would float away at any second. It must not be. The words tumbled out. Once released, they fell relentlessly from his lips. "He does not deserve to die. He is not to blame for my failings, or my feelings. He has been the only one in my entire life who has cared for me without seeing what I was not. He has died for me and not regretted the pain. He has been my soul's ease. When all of Vulcan forsook me, my father turned his face from me, my mother slapped me in disgust, he accepted me and gave me peace. Save him, T'Par. Please," He sobbed openly and tearlessly in the manner of Vulcan. "I entreat thee: give him...give me ...mercy." "Mercy is an emotion and a gift. Thee have not earned a gift from Gol." Her voice clamped down on him like a vise. "We will heal him on one condition, Spock. Accept it, or not, as you will." Spock looked down. The man he held whose eyes were closed to him, perhaps forever, must live. "Anything," ragged breaths carried his answer. "Anything you desire, T'Par." "We will teach thee acceptance and the control, not denial, of emotions. We will teach thee how to avoid Pon Farr, if that is what thee wills. If thee are called again after thee have learned these things, thee must leave to join him." "Done," he grabbed recklessly at the lifeline tossed his way. "It is done." He held Jim out. Jim's face was turned to him as Spock lifted Jim towards T'Par. The face that had smiled and laughed for him was silent. Spock swallowed heavily and stared at the face that accused him. "I have not betrayed you, Jim. I do this for you. It is necessary." He said it. He knew Jim could not hear his words and would never hear his words again. Control would keep him from the flames of possession, or death. It would finally keep his T'hy'la safe. The control T'Par offered would save them both. Control would keep him from demanding of Jim that which was not his right to ask. "You have my pledge. Please, help him." His voice was the barest of whispers. A giant sob of relief escaped him as he watched T'Par touch the human lightly. He felt Jim's breathing steady, his pulse slow. "Carry him inside. We will summon thy father to come and retrieve him. He will sleep until then." She watched as Spock carried his Ah'Hrak into Gol. "Ah, Spock," she whispered to the desert wind, "thee have so far to go, but thee have begun thy true journey on this day. Thee will learn all the definitions of Gol before your time here is done." Gol meant pain. Gol meant pain beyond the ability to endure. Gol meant the pain that transformed. Gol meant death. Gol meant mercy. Sometimes death is the greatest mercy of them all.