Work Text:
Jim woke with a start, gasping for breath as he attempted to take in his surroundings. Not that there was much he could do. He hands wouldn’t move, and he could feel the metal cutting into the skin that told him he was restrained. The thing that concerned him more was his lack of vision. His eyes were open, he was pretty sure, but all he could see was blackness. He twisted and turned, trying to force himself to see something, anything. Just when he had almost given up hope, a tiny sliver of light appeared at the bottom of his vision.
The light, tiny though it was, filled him with relief. He wasn’t blind. They must have blindfolded him while he was unconscious, and his frantic turning had knocked the fabric loose slightly. The door hissed open, and his sliver of light was dimmed with a shadow for a moment. He couldn’t see anything more, but he could hear footsteps, the quiet whispers of fabric as whoever it was moved, and words spoken in a language he had never heard before.
The reply, while in the same language, was a voice he recognized. Spock! He must be here to rescue him. He let himself relax, knowing that his first officer would have things handled. Then the blindfold was ripped away suddenly, ripping out some of his hair that was caught in the knot, leaving him squinting from both pain and the light. When his vision cleared, he saw four people he didn’t recognize and Spock standing in front of him.
“Spock!” He said brightly. “Wow, is it good to see you. Ready to get out of here?”
Spock didn’t answer, and stood watching blankly as two of the others hauled Jim to his feet, hooking the chain around his wrists to the ceiling, forcing him to stand on his tiptoes to keep his shoulders from dislocating.
“Um, Spock? What’s going on?”
Spock ignored him again, the silence stretching until Jim spoke again.
“You know, if you guys wanted to talk to me, you could have just asked. It’s pretty easy to get ahold of me.”
“Silence!” One of his captors barked, gripping his hair and forcing his head back. He stood uncomfortably close, face inches from Jim’s.
“You’re not really my type.” Jim huffed, trying to tip his head away. “I’m not really into the strong, silent kind.”
The man gripped tighter, forcing his head back painfully.
“I didn’t know why I said that. Yes, I am.” Jim was rambling, he knew that, yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened, so if we could just get on with whatever it is we’re doing here, that would be great.”
The man forced his head back even more for a moment, before roughly letting go and stepping back. A brief word in that same strange language as before (what Jim wouldn’t give to have Uhura here right now) and Spock stepped forward. His features were even more tightly controlled than normal, not showing a hint of what he was thinking as he stood for a moment, then drove his fist directly into Jim’s ribs.
“Spock? What’s going on?” Jim gasped for air, fighting against the pain to hold himself up. “What are you doing?”
Spock said nothing, only hitting him again in the same spot.
Jim could hear the bones crack under the pressure. A backhand to the face split his lip, and he could feel the blood dripping down his chin.
One of the other men stepped forward, saying something in that other language, and Spock finally spoke. “Give us the codes to the Enterprise main computer.”
“You know I can’t do that, Spock. There’s a reason no one knows those except-“ He cut off in a grunt as Spock hit him again, driving the air from his lungs.
“The codes.” He demanded again, his voice completely emotionless.
“No!” Several more blows followed, knocking him from his feet. Jim could feel the pop as his shoulder dislocated, and he couldn’t hold in a scream.
Spock seemed to hesitate for a moment, but one of the others stepped forward. “Hit him harder.” He said, his voice clearly not used to forming the English words. “We need those codes.”
Spock continued, pausing every few minutes to demand the codes again. Jim was a mess, blood dripping from his face and darkening his uniform. At least two ribs were broken, and his dislocated shoulder grated painfully with each new blow. He tried to forget the pain as much as possible, focusing instead on the question that had been burning in his mind since this started. Why was Spock helping them? What had made Spock turn against him? The pain of the betrayal was almost worse than the beating. Jim had thought they were making progress. They might not be friends yet, but he had thought they were well on their way.
By the time they grew frustrated, Jim was barely awake. Between the blood loss and the pain, he was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, and he found himself desperately wishing he could fall off. The man who seemed to be the leader barked something, and Spock stopped, stepping back. His face was just as impassive as when he had started, despite Jim’s blood staining his knuckles and uniform. They all turned and filed out, leaving Jim alone, hanging painfully from the ceiling. It didn’t take long before he passed out.
**********************************
He was awoken by the lights flickering back on, the same group as before standing in front of him. “Give us the codes.” Spock demanded again.
“No.” Jim replied, his voice wavering slightly. “Spock, why are you doing this?”
Spock ignored him, resuming the beating. The reopening of the wounds was almost more painful than when they had been made, and Jim couldn’t hold back his cries this time, whimpering with each new blow. Spock’s gaze softened for a moment before he could control it, and Jim’s mind seized on the small slip. Spock was incredibly good at compartmentalizing his emotions, but clearly something was upsetting him. And if he was upset about this, why was he doing it? Was it just to save his own skin? Had they threatened him if he didn’t help them?
That didn’t make sense. Spock wouldn’t sell him out just to save himself. They had both proved their loyalty to each other a long time ago. Jim trusted him. And if Spock wanted the codes, he could have taken them easily. Spock was a telepath. If he truly wanted the information, he would have forced his way into his mind and taken it without lifting more than a finger. That meant he wasn’t doing this willingly. And if he wasn’t doing this willingly, then they must be making him. Clearly they didn’t know about his telepathy, or they would have forced him to use it. At least that was something to be grateful for.
It wasn’t much consolation against the pain, but as he felt himself getting closer and closer to unconsciousness, he reminded himself that Spock didn’t mean it.
**********************************
He awoke slowly, and it took a moment to realize that he was back on the Enterprise, lying on one of the beds in medbay. Bones was sitting next to him, his eyes focused on the padd in his hand. “Bones.” Jim whispered weakly, and he shot out of his chair to hover over Jim in an instant.
“Hey, it’s good to see you awake. Don’t try to talk yet, save your strength. You got pretty beat up, but you’re healing up nicely.” Bones reached up and hit his comm. “McCoy to bridge. He’s awake, Spock.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Spock’s voice sounded strange over the comm. “I will be there in a moment.”
Jim shifted to find a more comfortable position and then winced as the movement caused pain to flare through his body. “Quit moving, would you? I just got those bones fixed up. I don’t need you breaking them again. I already have enough work to do without you making more.” Bones’ gruff words were contradicted by the concern in his eyes and the care he used to help Jim move, sitting the bed up slightly. He knew how much Jim hated being stuck in a hospital.
Spock came around the corner, his brisk jog a far cry from his usual sedate walk. He came to a stop by Jim’s bedside, and reached towards him. Jim flinched away involuntarily, and Spock drew back his hand immediately. “It is good to see you awake, Captain. As soon as the doctor has declared you fit for duty, I will be resigning my command and turning myself over to security.”
“Why, Spock?”
Despite the way the question was asked, Spock seemed to know instinctively what he was asking. “They had captured several members of the crew as well. They told me that if I did not cooperate, they would kill them. I am sorry. I made what seemed to be the best choice at the time, although I am aware of how awful it was. I will be submitting myself to your discipline, and have already put in my request to be transferred away from the Enterprise.”
“Withdraw it.” Jim ordered.
“Captain?”
“Withdraw the transfer request. You’re not leaving the Enterprise.”
“I understand. You wish to deal with me yourself.” Spock bowed his head. “I meant only to relieve you of having to see me, not to escape your judgement.”
“No, Spock.” Jim huffed out a laugh, bringing his arm up to cradle his sore ribs. “There will be no judgement, no punishment. I understand why you did it. You made the only choice you could to protect the crew. As awful of a choice as that must have been for you, it was the right choice. I knew, even there, that you didn’t mean it. If you had truly wanted the information, you could have taken it. I knew something else must be going on.”
Spock blanched. “I would never!”
“I know.” Jim reassured him. “I trust you. You took an awful choice, and you got everyone out alive. That’s all I could ask.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Spock settled himself in the chair Bones had vacated. “If you don’t mind, I would like to sit with you for a moment.”
Jim nodded, his eyes drifting shut. He knew that he should feel upset, that he should even feel unsafe falling asleep next to the man who had just beaten him to a pulp the day before, but he couldn’t. He knew his first officer. He had made the right choice. If Jim had known, he would have ordered Spock to make the same decision. He allowed himself to drift off to sleep, knowing he was safe with Spock nearby.