Title: The Tripping Place 1/9
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.

Spock knew precisely when the unexplained symptoms had made their first appearance. It was 15.2 days after the destruction of Vulcan, a full thirty eight days out from Earth as they had no warp and limited impulse control. As the surviving Vulcans had been transferred to another ship for transport to Earth, there was no one for him to talk to if he had so desired, which he had not. He also did not seek out Dr. McCoy or attempt to contact one of the few remaining Vulcan healers.

Due to the conditions of his birth, his very existence, Spock had been trained to note and observe the most minute changes in his body be it function, ability, or appearance. He had noted everything and presented it to the doctors and researchers that were in charge of his case, underwent their examinations and tests with no complaint because doing so would not have changed the situation, would have only increased the derision directed towards him due to his differences, his half-blood status.

When Spock left Vulcan to join Starfleet he did not suddenly stop his observations and notes, but he was no longer obligated to share any of it with others. The doctors had requested his continued reports, but he declined as he was no longer obligated to do so because he was no longer required to follow his father's instructions. While technically he was still a dependent of Sarek until he had his first pon farr, his father had made no move to contact him, nor demand for him to continue sending his reports to the doctors.

No one knew his body and mind better than he, so there was no need to share the changes with others. After the destruction of Vulcan, he had no desire to be subjected to such invasions of privacy, a very human concept he knew, but one he highly valued. For all his research he was unable to find an explanation for the symptoms that plagued him.

The first thing Spock noticed was the smell. His sense of smell was naturally more acute than that of a human, but one morning he woke to a smell so horrid that he feared he would pass out despite all of his Vulcan control. It was the most putrid stench he had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Then as suddenly as it started the smell vanished, leaving Spock grasping for possibilities wondering if this was some elaborate prank being waged against him by an Ensign with a grudge. While he could think of no one that he had slighted, he had long ago learned that humans had wildly different views on such things than Vulcans. After thoroughly searching his quarters finding nothing out of place, or anything that could have been the source of the smell, he went about his day experiencing no more problems.

It wasn't until two weeks later that the stench hit him again in the officer's mess hall, and it was the closest anyone had seen him to running from a room unprovoked. This time the smell did not disappear and seemed to be everywhere he went. There was no escaping it. Every breath brought with it a torture the likes of which he was not prepared to face. Locking himself in his room, he began his normal meditation rituals and was finally able to separate himself.

Months passed without another reoccurrence, at least not from his sense of smell. The ship returned to Earth, and classes resumed, and everything was normal. That is until the rashes began. They would come and go so quickly that Spock began to doubt his own senses He took to wearing jeans in the comfort of his own quarters and found the symptoms gone as if by magic, and hypothesized a sudden allergy to the synthetic material so favored these days. To remedy the situation he switched his thermal wear to all natural cotton and was relieved when that set of symptoms suddenly disappeared as though by magic. Still he did not talk to anyone of this, did not record it in anyway other than his own observations.

More months passed, and the ship was repaired and once again he was in space. However, just because so much time had passed did not mean that Spock had put it from his mind or forgot. Therefore, it came to no surprise to him, when the scent overcame once again him on his way to his quarters. So dazed he could hardly see straight, he made a quick detour to the observatory, and locking the door behind him, he set about meditating using the stars as his focus, shutting down his sense of smell as much as he was able to. His control and knowledge of his body should have allowed him to separate himself totally, but he found himself unable.

However, the stars drew him in, and he let himself drift, reaching farther and farther into them, finding stars that he knew he should not be able to see from their current location, stars that were brighter and more brilliant than ever before. He almost imagined that he could see minute planets circling the brilliant light sources, and moons the size of a speck of dust surrounding them. Time passed unnoticed as Spock lost himself until Jim's voice called for him through the communicator asking if he was still going to meet Jim for tonight's game of chess.

Spock visibly jumped at the sudden sound, unsure of what had happened or how much time had passed. "Sorry Captain. I was mediating and lost track of time. I shall be there shortly."

There was a long pause as though Jim was thinking of saying something before his voice announced, "See you shortly. Kirk, out."

Spock's mind was not on the game. Instead he found himself trying to quantify and analyze the changes in himself, creating hypothesis after hypothesis and discarding them just as quickly. Despite his distraction, he felt Jim's heavy gaze on him, knew his Captain knew that Spock's attention was elsewhere. He was thankful that this man, his friend did not push him right now, did not question him about things that he was not ready to admit that he did not understand or know the meaning of.

It was the ultimate disgrace for a Vulcan to not know themselves and even more so for one such as he who had spent the majority of his life mastering himself. After nearly an hour of silence and very little progress, Jim finally spoke up. "I think we should call it a night and pick this up again next time. It is obvious that neither of our minds are on the game tonight."

Spock stood quickly, straightening his shirt, grateful for the excuse to leave and meditate on this. "Very well, Captain. I shall see you in the morning." Turning towards the door he was stopped both by Jim's hand grasping his and the man's words. He almost jumped at the electric shock that traveled up his arm at the touch, but Jim had no such control.

"Spock, if you need to talk to me about anything I'm here."

They stood frozen for several long moments, Spock facing the door, his hand pulled back and held tightly by Jim's. "I shall remember the offer."

Pulling his hand away, he felt the reluctance on Jim's part as the grip momentarily tightened before he was released. He did not understand the odd pang in his chest at the loss of contact, and the weight of his Captain's stare followed him all the way back to his quarters.