Kirk was not a man to give up. He had not given up, even when he'd stopped feeling hungry and knew what that meant. When his tongue had swelled and stuck to the roof of his mouth. When those fucking things had poured out of the vent and devoured the ruined flesh in the cell opposite him.
Pike's gloved finger burned, but Kirk's eyes still blazed at him, helpless but refusing to accept it, the terror of this moment real and visceral but somehow so much more alive than the slow creeping death he'd been living previously.
He was stretched out tight enough, though, that he could barely even arch against the restraints. And soon enough he'd realize what struggling too much could mean. Depending on what Pike intended.
"Fuck you!" he spat finally, thin chest heaving, but it was almost a plea. "What do you want?"
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Date: 2010-01-21 12:14 am (UTC)Pike's gloved finger burned, but Kirk's eyes still blazed at him, helpless but refusing to accept it, the terror of this moment real and visceral but somehow so much more alive than the slow creeping death he'd been living previously.
He was stretched out tight enough, though, that he could barely even arch against the restraints. And soon enough he'd realize what struggling too much could mean. Depending on what Pike intended.
"Fuck you!" he spat finally, thin chest heaving, but it was almost a plea. "What do you want?"