Title: The Tripping Place 6/9
Characters/Pairings: Spock/Jim, Jim/Bones, future Jim/Spock/Bones, Pike, Archer, Uhura, Scotty
Warnings: kinky/rough sex, mentions of past rape/abuse, minor character death, a bit of self harm, Tarsus and everything related to it, accidental bonding, major angst
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I just like to play with them.
Summary: Following the defeat of Nero, the trip back to Earth is full of surprises. After the destruction of Vulcan, Spock begins experiencing odd, unexplainable symptoms that have him questioning his sanity and his ability to hold his position. When Spock is no longer able to hide his problems, Dr. McCoy's diagnosis comes as a shock to all. Secrets of the past come to light, discoveries ensue, and no one is prepared for the ramifications.
Notes: This is a slight crossover with The Sentinel. No knowledge of the series is needed to read this.

But now with the way Spock had looked at him, like he was the most important thing in the world, Jim wanted more of that. And it killed him that he couldn't, wouldn't be that selfish. He knew Spock would regret it, and Jim couldn't live with that.

Finding an empty rec room, he locked it behind him, not wanting company right now. Stripping off his uniform shirt and toeing off his shoes, he circled the old fashioned punching bag, starting off slowly, then speeding up hitting harder and harder, nearly missed jumping out of the way as the inertia caused it to swing back towards him. He didn't let himself think, just feel, worked his muscles till they ached and shook, his hands until they throbbed.

He didn't hear the lock being overridden, didn't noticed anyone else in the room until there were arms suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him away back, leading him away from the bag. And he didn't fight it, panting, exhausted, too numb to think, just feel. The cool water that suddenly rushed over the burning flesh of his fists was a shock to his system and he vaguely realized his hands were covered in red, and briefly wondered what it was from. He glanced at the still swaying bag and noticed odd dark smears and then down to the floor where there were red droplets. Blood, he realized from somewhere far away. It was his blood.

That was when the pain hit him. But he welcomed it, embraced it. It gave him something to focus on, something to latch onto and push everything else away. The water stopped, and the next thing he knew, his hands were swathed in white bandages. He briefly worried about the loss of time and wondered if perhaps he was in shock.

A sudden hypo to the neck brought him back to himself so quickly that he trembled violently and whirled on Bones, but the look of sorrow and understanding on the other doctor's face, cut off any response he may have had.

"You're wrong." Jim denied fervently, pushing away the doctor's hands, trying to run again, needing to get out of here, away from it all.

But Bones wasn't going to let that happen. Grabbing Jim's shoulder, he pushed the man up against the wall. "Jim, no."

Jim struggled weakly against the hold, but was just too drained to put up much effort.

"Jim, look at me."

But Jim refused, clenching his eyes tightly shut and turning his head away, not wanting to look into those eyes and see the truth and the pity that he knew they would contain. Bones couldn't be right, he just couldn't.

As McCoy's grip on his shoulders lessened, Jim would have slid down the wall if the other man hadn't stepped forward, pressing into him and holding him in place. Bones' hands ghosted up over Jim's shoulders and cupped his jaw, thumbs brushing away tears that Jim didn't realize he'd shed.

"Jim. Don't do this. I hate seeing you like this."

The rawness and sorrow in Bones' voice was almost palpable and it touched a place in Jim that made him powerless to ignore it. The man had done so much for him, more than anyone ever had, more than he had imagined anyone capable of doing for him. He owed Bones so much, and could deny his friend nothing.

Slowly Jim's eyes slid open and he blinked rapidly to clear away the tears before he focused on the man in front of him. Instead of the expected pity, he found nothing except sorrow and understanding. There was nothing but truth in that brilliant blue gaze, but swallowing hard about the sudden painful lump in his throat, he denied, "No," trying to shake his head despite Bones' imprisoning grasp of his face.

"Yes, Jim. You're his Guide. They were wrong, Jim. They were wrong," McCoy repeated even knowing that there was no way to make him believe it, that Jim had to realize it himself. This time when Jim sagged, Bones went with him and they ended up in a graceless heap on the floor. Shifting their tangled limbs, he pulled Jim into his lap, amazed at how small the other man could make himself appear when he desired because Jim was no light weight. "Spock chose you. That has to mean something."

But Jim wasn't listening anymore, unable to even bear the thought that the fundamental fact that had shaped his life for over a decade wasn't true. Bones was wrong. Spock was wrong. There was no way they couldn't be. The doctors had said – but Jim cut off that train of thought, not letting himself go there, not wanting to relive it again. For one small moment he let himself hope, but he quickly squished it down, because hope never brought anything but pain. But hope wasn't so easily extinguished.

Bones just held him, rocking slightly, making small soothing sounds, running his hands up and down Jim's back. Brushing back Jim's disheveled bangs he placed a kiss on his forehead, and froze as he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes. Turning his head, he met the smoldering eyes of the resigned Vulcan. Spock gave him a small nod of what McCoy could only label as acceptance, before turning and leaving as quietly as he'd came. Bones had to fight not to call out after him, and cursed the Vulcan for jumping to conclusions, and making his life that much more difficult.

Spock had heard of Sentinels of course, had even worked with several in his years in Starfleet, but it was not a topic that he had studied extensively. He knew what they were and what they were capable of, but beyond that his knowledge was limited. No records had even documented a Vulcan Sentinel, and to have so many present at once was unprecedented.

Jim's reaction to the news was unexpected. Spock had not realized that the man was anything but a psi null, but hearing that Jim was actually an empath had not really come as a surprise; it explained so many things. But the fear and disgust that filled Jim's eyes at the doctor's proclamation was like a knife to his heart. He had not expected it, did not understand it or know why Jim would run. Spock knew that there was no negative stigma attached to either role, so it had to be something personal. As Spock rose to follow, McCoy's voice stopped him.

"Let me talk to him first."

Spock nodded, and relaxed back into his seat as much as he was able. The doctor had not seemed surprised by Jim's reaction, and as close as the pair appeared to be, he probably knew the reason behind it. Vulcans did not feel jealousy, but he did not know what else to call the feeling that suddenly overcame him at the thought of Jim so close to another. Jim was his: his Captain, his friend, his Guide.

He started at the thought, taken aback for a moment, wondering when he had started thinking of the Captain as his own. But still that did not matter if the Captain did not want him, as appeared to be the case. He was not possessive by nature, so such emotions unnerved him. He was not used to not knowing himself, and the very idea that he was not in control of himself sent his sense of self reeling. The very idea that he would spend the rest of his life depending on another went against everything he'd ever been taught. While he had expected to bond before his first pon farr, he did not expect the bond to have such a hold over him.

Suddenly needing to talk to Jim, even talk to the doctor to explain this to him, what it meant to him, he rushed out of the medbay, heedless of Nurse Chapel's angry shout that he hadn't been cleared to leave yet and headed after Jim. He wasn't sure where he was going, but his feet apparently did and led him to the rec rooms.

Coming to a stop outside an occupied room, he hesitated for a moment, considering knocking before he entered. Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly opened the door, and stepped inside. He opened his month to speak but abruptly shut it at the sight that met his eyes. Dr. McCoy had the crying Captain pressed up against the wall. Immediately filled with fury, thinking the doctor was hurting him, forcing himself on his Guide, Spock made to move forward, but froze at their words.

Watching as Jim collapsed, and was gathered into the doctor's arms obviously upset and fearful of the prospect of being Spock's Guide, he felt a strange stabbing sensation in the region of his heart. Suddenly all the time the Captain spent with the doctor made sense. The reason behind all the times he'd seem Jim exiting McCoy's room in the wee hours of the morning made a horrible sense. They were lovers and Jim thought that Spock would take him away.

McCoy's head suddenly turned towards him, and their eyes locked. Spock did not understand what he saw in the other man's eyes but he nodded his acceptance, and took his leave.

Once safely back in his quarters he began planning, detailing the conversations that he would have to have, to assure Jim that this would not hurt his relationship with the doctor, that he was not a threat to them. While he knew bonds between Sentinels and Guides were often sexual, he knew that it was done for the sake of convenience rather than a true need.

Changing into his robes, he lit the fire stone, preparing to meditate, but at the first bright flare of rainbow colors he was drawn in and lost.

Jim suddenly stood, ignoring his throbbing hands and aching muscles, not hearing Bones' startled exclamation and demand to know what was going on, and then the shouts to stop and wait as he slammed out the door and began running. He didn't realize where he was going at first; his feet had a mind of their own. But he knew that he was needed.

Rounding a corner he found himself in front of Spock's quarters, and without a second thought, used his code to override the lock and enter. Quickly stepping into the room, his eyes were drawn towards Spock's form, standing with his back towards him unmoving.

Hesitantly he called, "Spock?" but when he received no response he moved forward, around his still form, and found Spock's pupils widely dilated, staring entranced into the fire stone. Quickly putting it out, he called again, "Spock? Can you hear me, Spock?"

Stepping closer to the Vulcan, he hesitantly touched a sleeve of his robe, before searching among its many folds for his hidden hands. He'd never done this before, hadn't thought about it for years, hadn't thought he'd even need to remember, but he knew this. When a Sentinel zoned out on one sense you called them back through their other senses.

He didn't spare a glance as the doctor entered the room cursing. Grasping Spock's hands, he fisted them together and brought them up to his chest, resting over his heart. "Spock, come back to me. Listen to my voice. Feel my touch, my heartbeat. Pull back from it."

Spock suddenly blinked, then tried to jerk back startled at the sudden presence of the Captain before him. "Captain? What are you doing here? I was alone but a moment ago."

"No, Spock, you zoned. You got lost in the flame."

"A zone is a catatonic state brought on by focusing on only one sense. I do not understand. I was alone and you were on the other side of the ship in a rec room."

"Yes, I know—" Jim's eyes went wide. "Wait, how did you know that I was in a rec room?" And then he began to shake his head wildly, and tried to let go of Spock, but the Vulcan only tightened his grip on Jim's hands not letting him pull away.

Bones moved forward, "Jim, you know—"

"No!" Jim exclaimed, trying to pull away from Spock.

He froze at Spock's quiet, "Jim." And looked up at him, as the Vulcan continued on. "I will not come between you and the doctor. I understand that you fear that your responsibilities to me as my Guide would interfere with your relationship, but I foresee that we can continue as we have as though nothing has changed."

Jim was confused and looked over at Bones as the other man groaned. "Spock, what are you talking about? Bones and I aren't together."

Spock shook his head. "There is no need to deny it."

Bones finally spoke up. "Jim, he saw us in the rec room and obviously leapt to conclusions."

Jim was still confused. What had he seen? Just a friend comforting another friend, but then he realized what such a thing could look like from an outside perspective. "Oh, no, no, no. We're not lovers."

Spock's brow rose at the denial. "I have seen you exit the doctor's quarters at 0400 seven times in the past 2.3 months."

"Really? It's been that often? But we aren't sleeping together. I mean we are sleeping together, as in sharing the same bed, not having sex. Have been since the Academy." Jim saw the silent question. "My psi ability, I'm an empath, off the charts according to the tests." Jim took a deep breath to steady himself, and he smiled as he felt the comforting weight of Bones' hand rest on his shoulder. "Spock, I can't be your Guide. Don't give me that look. I know that your instincts are telling you, that there isn't another for you, but there is. I can't be what you need."

Looking over his shoulder for a moment, he met Bones' sad eyes, before straightening and turning back to face Spock. "I never spoke of this aloud, but on Tarsus IV, there was a little girl. Her name was Quinn, and she was beautiful, would have been a knock out if she'd survived. But what made her really special was that she was going to be a Sentinel. I know that they say that's there's no way to tell, but I knew. I'd felt it before, but never understood until I saw her, and the light bulb instantly went on. I don't know why I never recognized it before. Maybe it was because I'd never touched one before. The doctors said that I bonded too young, but there was no bond. She wasn't even a Sentinel yet, just had the possibility of being one, like I had the possibility of being a Guide. Nothing was set in stone. And they locked a part of me away, saying it had broken me, damaged me in some way, but they just didn't understand that I had always been that way, they'd just never bothered to look. I never felt another Sentinel after that."

Jim tensed at the sudden rage he felt pouring off of Spock, and tried to back up but only ran into Bones, who still had a firm grip on his shoulders.

"An adult forced themselves into your psyche without consent and tampered with your mind?" Spock almost vibrated with rage. "The young are meant to be protected. Such an event is the worst travesty."

Spock's grip on Jim's hands tightened painful, and Jim had to fight crying out. "Spock, you're hurting me."

Spock's grip suddenly lessened and the rage all but disappeared as though a switch had been flipped, and for all Jim knew it had been. But the sudden absence of feeling was both a relief and a loss. "I am sorry. The last thing I wish to do is cause you harm, Jim."

Jim just blinked in surprise. He could count the number of times that Spock had called him by his given name without title or prompting from him on one hand. When Spock raised his hand, Jim had to fight not to recoil, but Bones' grounding presence at his back and the reassuring squeeze of his shoulder eased his worries.

Spock's fingers were spread in the way that he'd only encountered once on Delta Vega with Spock's older self, and it had been without explanation or warning, so Spock's soft, "May I?" came as a surprise.

Jim stared at those splayed fingers for a long moment, acknowledging the careful placement of each one as though done a thousand times before. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that Spock was seeking, and not sure if he should or could allow it. During the previous time on Delta Vega with Spock's future counterpart he hadn't understood what the Vulcan was going to do until it was done and there was no way for him to fight it. The encounter had been both amazing and frightening. If the older Vulcan had asked him, or had tried to explain it to him, Jim probably would have denied him.

His brain was the only place he could still call his own, at least in part. He was afraid of what this Spock would see. The other Spock hadn't been searching for anything, hadn't looked into Jim's mind. It was Jim that had been in Spock's mind. But this he knew was different, and he wasn't sure if he could allow it.

When Spock began to lower his hand, Jim realized he that some time had passed and that he hadn't said anything. Finally finding his voice, he asked, "Why?"

Something flashed across Spock's eyes, but was gone before Jim could place it. "I wish to ascertain if any damage was done. The young mind is a very fragile thing. If one is not trained or careful, they can cause unimaginable damage with very little effort. I need to see that you were not damaged."

Jim couldn't contain his gasp, and felt the blood drain from his face. McCoy suddenly pressed up against his back. He was a comforting presence, an anchor in the storm that was raging around him, throughout him. He couldn't. If Spock saw he would know how damaged Jim really was, know that the damage had always been there, that Tarsus IV hadn't caused it, had just made it visible.

He missed the look that Spock and Bones shared over his shoulder as his eyes were still locked to that hand. As he opened his mouth to say no, McCoy's hand rose to cover it before a sound could emerge. Angrily, Jim pushed the hand down and craned his head to look over his shoulder. "What the hell, Bones?"

"Shut up, Jim. This has gone on long enough. I should have done something about this a long time ago, but I was doing what I thought best for you as your friend, not your doctor. Now, as your doctor, shut up and let Spock do this. You need it."

Jim knew he must have looked gob smacked, but Jim trusted Bones, and if Bones said he needed this, then he would do it.

Turning back to Spock, he nodded jerkily, suddenly feeling detached. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and not watch. As the hand neared slowly, giving enough time for Jim to change his mind, he made himself focus on those eyes instead of the hand, letting himself lose himself to that gaze.

Vaguely, from someplace far away, he felt a pressure on his face as the fingers found purchase, and heard the softly whispered words, "My mind to your mind… my thoughts to your thoughts." And then he was drowning, gasping for air, as he sank beneath the weight of Spock's mind.

Just as suddenly, he was surrounded by a soothing warmth, an apology, and he was free, gasping for unneeded air. He felt more than heard the words.

I am sorry.

What? Jim tried to say, but no words came out.

You visualize yourself as in your body because that is the form you are most comfortable with, but this is your mind. Think rather than speak.

Like this? Jim could feel Spock's amusement.

Correct.

This was so different from his experience with the future Spock. Before he'd not known himself at all, been consumed and feared that he would be lost under the weight of the man's amazing mind and terrible sorrow. Now he knew Spock was there, but it was far away.

I am sorry that for that experience. It was not normal. Now please relax. This should not take long.

Jim felt the presence withdrawing and shouted, Wait!

Again he felt Spock's gentle amusement. There is no need to shout. I am still here. Just relax. Let yourself drift. It will be easier that way.

Easier for who? Jim asked, but there was no response, so Jim did as he was told. It was an odd experience, one he did not have words for, and he wasn't sure how much time passed before he knew something wasn't right.

In fact, something was about to go terribly wrong. NO! he shouted and suddenly found himself transported to what looked like a festering wound long neglected. It oozed a viscous, yellow-green pus, and Jim found himself gagging despite not being able to smell. Spock's presence was all encompassing, and Jim did not understand what was going on until he saw the wound being opened more to draw the poison out.

Suddenly, he heard screaming, and it took a moment for Jim to realize it was coming from him. Even when swiftly surrounded by Spock's presence he couldn't make himself stop. Before his eyes the wound suddenly began to bleed bright red blood, the toxin abruptly gone, and just as quickly the wound began to close and heal before his eyes, until all that was left of the mess was a bright pink scar, which was rapidly whitening as though aged.

Unexpectedly, he realized that he could suddenly feel Spock, not how Spock was in his mind before, but Spock as a Sentinel, a sensation that he hadn't felt in years. And then Spock was there, invading him, trying to connect them, and Jim was pulling back, trying to prevent it, run from it, but it was already done. He should have known this would happen, hadn't even thought of the possibility, but he suddenly knew that this is how Vulcans all once were. They were the origin, and Spock's unbonded mind sought his out unconsciously.

No he mentally shouted, and he was suddenly back in his body, but it was too late. Spock collapsed on the floor in front of him and Bones began demanding what was going on. Jim had been screaming, but the doctor had known that interrupting the meld could have been fatal to both of them.

Jim ignored him for the moment as he sank down next to him, taking Spock's hand in his. Those eyes fluttered briefly and met his.

Spock tried to pull his hand away, but Jim wouldn't have it, instead tightening his grip.

Jim felt the apology in both the touch and his mind, so when the words came, he was not surprised. "I am sorry. I am ashamed for my uncontrolled action. It was not my intention to do such a thing, but I was overcome. Despite the excuse, my actions are unforgivable, and I shall submit to whatever punishment you deem fit."

"Punishment?" Bones exclaimed, pacing next to them. "What the hell happened? Dammit, I want answers now!"

Feeling the sudden absence of Spock's mind, Jim looked down, seeing that the Vulcan had passed out. "Right now we should get him to sickbay."

"What?" Bones demanded, then realized that Spock had passed out, cursed and called for a stretcher, not noticing that while he had his back turned that Jim slipped out. Turning back to address Jim, he started, "And don't think for a moment this is going to get you…" he trailed off realizing the man's absence, and cursed, "Dammit, Jim!"