Captain Christopher Richard Pike

Pike's reaction, as his earlier indrawn breath at the brush of their fingers had been, was noted and cataloged for examination later.

Spock's encounter with the Kirk of that universe, and Jim's account of his experiences there, had led Spock to an understanding of how dangerous the alternate reality was, a civilization founded on brutality and manipulation. This man was no less a student of it than that Kirk. But it manifested itself in different ways. Was this man more intelligent? More driven? Simply more masterful? Spock did not yet know.

Spock moved Pike's hand to the meld points on Spock's face, confident that Pike knew the proper positions but maintaining the contact anyway - Spock was not unaffected by Pike. He was briefly thankful for his own bondmates - had he faced this man with the emptiness of his previous solitude and yearning still filling him, Spock would have much to fear from this commanding hand.

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As Spock had guessed, Pike knew those points well. His fingers slid over the psi-points, remembering them intimately from contact with his own bond mate when they had been re-developing his mental shielding. He could not initiate a meld, he was not gifted enough for that, but waited for Spock's guiding hand, as it were.

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If he could teach his t'hy'lara this skill....

"My mind to your mind."

And Pike found himself in the outer corridors of Spock's mind, the hallway of careful doors, secured against entrance except for a lone door at the end of the hall, invitingly ajar.

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Very similar. Pike remarked, walking as calmly as he sounded towards that door. His eyes searched for traps despite the most likely concept that there were none. He reached out for the door - his gloves remaining even in his mental image of himself - and opened it.

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He had carefully secreted away access to his bondmates, to his friends with whom he shared the lesser bonds. He did not anticipate Pike would harm them but foolish risk was not Spock's to take, not with people for whom he cared so much.

But the sky remained, an arched dome of lights, sparkling and twinkling as lives were lived out, far distant yet always present.

And a thread. The thread Spock had isolated as his connection to that other Spock. His own counterpart in Pike's universe. The echo of the bond was finer in diameter than the other threads he carried. Yet it was there.

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This place was far different then the one he had shared with his Spock. He studied the sky above with its near endless number of stars. I have never seen such a thing. He remarked before studying the thread that was being pointed out to him.

Immediately, he could sense what it was. Can you sense anything from it?

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They are distant. My own people.

Spock is silent, even in his mind for a moment, soaking up the serenity that comes in this place, with this connection.

I have not attempted to do so - I would be a stranger to him and, I surmise, a most unwelcome intruder. That is why I have allowed you here.

Here in Spock's secret heart.

Edited Date: 2009-08-28 11:07 pm (UTC)

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Is it the same as when I followed the one between us? Pike questioned. There was definitely a readiness in his voice, a desire for action.

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This is dimmed, through distance. I will accompany you a certain distance if you wish, to steady the passage. The technique, however, is the same.

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This is a journey I might not return from. Leaving such a great distance into an unknown distance with his mind would prove infinitely dangerous, even with aid.

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I shall offer what protection I can. Were the risk too great, I would not have proposed it. I have no reason to risk your madness.

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Pike was silent, perhaps studying the thread. His mind was heavily shielded, silent where it should not have been, a man used to a meld. Finally he let out a sense of agreement. I'll take the risk.

The best way to describe what Pike began to do was follow the thread as neatly as a tight-rope walker. It was incredibly dangerous, only a single misstep could end it all.

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Spock's own steps were sure and steady. There was danger, particularly with a human mind, but he was not afraid of this.

He steadied Pike.

In everything he attempted, Spock excelled. He would not allow anything to happen to Pike.

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The farther out they got, the more and more dangerous it became. Pike repeated the same thing he had when he had come into Spock's mind before. That sonor-like echo, sounding out along the thread, making it vibrate.

All they could do was wait.

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Spock was attempting to sleep. He had achieved a trance that would rest his body but his mind....

More calculations and always that constant seeking, searching, yearning, and reaching. His Christopher was there, just beyond his reach. But soon....

Spock.

A full-body shiver caught him at the unexpected voice, stronger this time.

This was wish fulfillment or madness. But he tried anyway. At this point, he could only gasp as the pain ceased, everything in him flaring.

Christopher!

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The Spock on either end would feel it. A feeling of relief mixed with a certain joy that nearly anyone would not have expected from Pike except the one who knew him best. It was faint, but there, tantalizingly close despite the distance.

Spock!

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Spock felt it, and his own relief was a powerful thing. His bonds flared in sympathy, little pulses of love and connection to his own mates. He hung back, allowing Pike and his mate, his Spock, to find each other.

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Christopher.

He could taste his own relief, the sour undertaste of knowing this would be a fleeting touch.

Are you injured?

Spock would kill them all if he was.

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Safe, but captured. He sounded less then pleased and that feeling came through.

You? And my ship? Was it Kirk? He wanted information, some answers to important things.

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The exchange of such information would have struck most as odd, perhaps. But the information was necessary and did not impede the emotion coming through, the fierce protectiveness that Spock felt, the blood hunger to destroy any that harmed his mate.

"I am unharmed and largely unchallenged. Kirk is in the brig. I have not harmed him yet. Though I believe he finally understands the seriousness of my anger."

Spock had paused, on his last visit to the brig, blood still bright and wet on his boot, to make eye contact with Kirk, who had cringed away.

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Good, good. There was a pleased feeling, very pleased, a mixture of knowing Spock was safe as well as that the damned brat was going to get his punishment.

...Can you find me? Is it possible?

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He wants to pull Christopher through the bond, tuck him into his mind where he belongs. But that would destroy his mate, it was an illogical desire.

My calculations are almost complete; I have very nearly located the precise point at which we should be able to retrieve you. However, I will need assistance from your side. Will that be possible?

Because if it was not, Spock would find his way over and make it possible.

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They're willing to help. There was the briefest flicker of longing, unable to fully be controlled despite his shielding. Part of what he had been suppressing all that time.

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