mirroredcommand: (Looking with thinned lips)
[personal profile] mirroredcommand
The night was dark and deep and long in space, never ending, without a dawn to break the line between waking and sleep, day and night, beginning and end. It made existence endless, broken only by the silent running of the clocks on the wall, the movements of work, food, and sleep. Without these things, without the sureness of a schedule, time became meaningless. Even the stars could not keep him company.

So after Kirk came and 'visited', time resumed its endless patterns, moving on and on without pause or break or concept. For a man used to near-constant action, it was a form of torture more exquisite then any bit of pain or distress. More then anything, it was a torture that gave him nothing to focus his mind on anything but the swelling pain of the broken bond. It was swiftly becoming over whelming, completely and utterly. There was nothing left to keep the pain away, and with his shields designed only to block out Spock's light intrusions instead of a full on force, they were failing after being buffeted for so long. In short, he was going mad.

His expression showed little of the internal war except for the strong brow being furrowed and the age-lines at the edges of the eyes and corners of the mouth looking thicker. It was his hands that gave him away, gripping fiercely into the fabric of the bed he was reclining on. A headache was throbbing behind his eyes in time with his heart, a thick red-hot band of light that was searing like a knife into his mind. Deeper, deeper with every beat of his heart.

Every part of him was focused on maintaining the failing shields, rebuilding them as Spock had taught him those years ago. He had survived torture from Vulcans who knew precisely what to do in the mind, but could not stop this. This bond that had been forced onto him but in the end welcomed, this bond that had saved his life many times in the past, that had saved the life of his first officer and friend, this bond that had been a respite from a world where one could never relax... this bond was killing him. It would destroy him as surely as any blade to the heart.

SPOCK!

Never screamed aloud, never aloud. Instead, strong white teeth bit firmly into his lip, hard enough to send a trickle of crimson along his chin, down to his jawline. The pain, the strain, had been steadily increasing since James Kirk's visit to his cell, as if the reminder of the bond and speaking of it had started a chain reaction. He had long since started to keep his eyes closed [was it hours? minutes? weeks? centuries?] because at least this way the room would not spin. He was starting to feel that same spinning in his mind, making his world wobble like a child's toy.

It seemed hours passed this way. A day? Perhaps. He vaguely heard someone calling him, but did not dare respond. Still trapped in the arms of the enemy, he could not let a weakness be seen. The smell of food made his stomach swell and gurgle, but not from hunger. It felt like his entire body needed one thing it could not have. [a universe away]

He did not feel when he stood, instead he felt the world sway, go sideways. Could not feel the floor beneath his feet, the slap of his hand against the wall in an instinctual attempt to keep himself upright. Did not feel when the world tuned him out, blew him out like a light bulb, did not feel when the pain consumed him and his shields finally fell, did not feel when he hit the ground.

The darkness had claimed him instead.

Date: 2009-09-12 02:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
Pike was staring silently at both Spocks, his eyes burning, burrowing. He needed them, burning, needed. Needed. NOW. Could not tell the difference. Needed. Had to be fixed. Could not repair the shielding. The pain was incredible. Blackness at the edges of his mind.

Date: 2009-09-12 02:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cso-spock.livejournal.com
It, at least, confirmed what he had felt on the bridge. He did not think about what this would mean for their contact with his mirror and the delicate peace of his own mind.

Spock looked over at his elder counterpart, knowing what he was thinking (of course). Reluctantly, he released Nyota's hand (did not want her to be dragged into this, with him), and nodded. "...we have no alternative."

Date: 2009-09-12 02:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kirktastic.livejournal.com
Kirk fucking hated this shit. This was incredibly dangerous, but he knew what had to be happening. His fingers curled hard into fists at his sides, looking at Pher, glaring death at him. Yet... he knew this man couldn't die or the other Spock would come with all the wrath of hell. Shit.

Date: 2009-09-12 02:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] just-uhura.livejournal.com
Nyota had said nothing as she followed Spock into the room, just stayed by his side and attempte to offer what strength she could through the touch of her hand. Looking between each Spock and the man lying on the bed in such pain, her heart went out to him. She may not trust him, but there was no way that she could ever condemn him, especially not to a pain like she knew he was suffering.

As Spock released her hand, she took a step back. She didn't know the specifics but she knew the basics of what they had to do, something she had no place in. So she moved to stand away, waiting on the edges with concern visible in every inch of her. It was all she could do.

Date: 2009-09-12 02:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
He looked at their audience, then stepped closer to Spock spoke too quietly for the humans to hear.

"The risk to your mind concerns me. We shall attempt this together yet if he threatens you, I counsel flight rather than defense."

Date: 2009-09-12 02:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cso-spock.livejournal.com
Spock took a quiet breath, looking down at Pike, and then up at the other. "Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar il t'Veh." The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. The reminder was more for himself, whispered just as quietly. He flexed his fingers, exercising the last bit of nervous energy from his body.

Date: 2009-09-12 02:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
"Nar-tor pulaya s'au k'ka'es - k'el'rular tun-bosh. Be careful, Spock. I do not wish to see you come to harm."

Spock stepped forward, counterpart at his side.

"Christopher Pike, we wish to help you."

Date: 2009-09-12 03:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
Pike gasped out, staring up at the two Spocks that looked the same in his mind, the one who was lost. Had to focus, had to focus.

[OOC - If you hover over the text, there shall be a translation.]

Date: 2009-09-12 03:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
Spock glances at his counterpart again and gestures for him to position himself on Pike's other side.

"He will arrive soon. In the meantime, we will aid you, if you allow it."

He spreads his fingers - Pike knows what this means - but does not yet touch Pike's skin.

(OOC - Sad!Pike is making me so sad!)
Edited Date: 2009-09-12 03:36 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-09-12 03:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
The mind meld would be the easy solution, or at least a solution. Could it ease his pain? The shields were gone, they would be able to roam his mind. They could do as they pleased. It would mean trusting them both, unknowning if he could halt them.

His fingers twitched in the restraints, and he gave a terse nod.

Date: 2009-09-12 03:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
Spock's fingers settled and he nodded at his counterpart to do the same.

"Our minds, to your minds."

They slipped inside.

Date: 2009-09-12 03:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cso-spock.livejournal.com
With another quiet breath, he pushed all of his hesitance to the back of his mind. He didn't need it right now--he needed to focus, to cast out fear as his counterpart had told him before (though in quite a different context). He reached out his hand to the other half of the psi-points, and rested his fingers against the skin. The points tingled against his own nerves, and he joined his counterpart in the meld.

Date: 2009-09-12 04:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
When the two Spocks appear in Pike's mind, they were immediately blasted with heat and wind, bringing up scouring sands. Before them was a large mountain that resembled Vulcan's once-existence, sharp and layered, and tucked into that mountain were a pair of very large doors. Carved into the doors was a single phrase that rang strong from classic literature.

Hic Sunt Dracones

Here Be Dragons.

Date: 2009-09-12 04:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
The heat is surprisingly comfortable, a reminder of home. The sand carried on the wind is less welcoming.

Spock nodded reassuringly at his counterpart and stepped to the doors. They opened.

Date: 2009-09-12 04:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kirktastic.livejournal.com
Kirk watched as a Spock stood on either side of Pher and began the meld. He remembered what happened in the meld with his this universe's Spock, remembered the fucking weird one he'd done with the Spock of Jim's universe.

If something fucking happens, I don't care where it'll drag me. I'm gonna protect them both. Not letting this fucker hurt them again.

Date: 2009-09-12 04:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cso-spock.livejournal.com
His opinion was not so different; the heat reminded him of pleasant evenings and his youth, but the wind was never comfortable. Spock also stepped up to the doors, and inside, where at least he couldn't hear the howling in his ears.

Date: 2009-09-12 04:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
As Spock stepped inside, a weak flash of white light almost seemed to bar the way, but died a moment later. The remnants of the shielding, perhaps?

Within, it was a perfect blend of the Terran Empire's learned methods and ones of the Vulcan Elders. The building was neat, clean, almost barren, yet still held a design that could be accounted to the military styling of the Romans. It was a corridor lined in neat compartments, each labeled in both Vulcan and Terran. There were thousands of compartments, each locked with a very old fashion sort of keyhole lock. The corridor went straight into the distance, the length unknown.

Date: 2009-09-12 04:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
The influence of Pike's Spock was clear - well-ordered mind, protected even as it lay vulnerable before them.

We must find a path to where he keeps his bonds.

Spock looks at the manifestation of his counterpart.

You have a closer sense of his Spock. Can you sense his presence here and follow that?

Date: 2009-09-12 04:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cso-spock.livejournal.com
Surprisingly logical.

Was his first thought, quiet and barely echoing in the corridor. Spock looked around, and then at the question, focused his thoughts away from his simple curiosity.

Perhaps. His concentration sharpened on the weak ping of his mirror. Spock silently began to walk down the corridor, towards the constant tug.

Date: 2009-09-12 05:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
The way turned sharply, then surprisingly, split into two paths.

Somewhere in the distance there was a low rumbling, like that of a not-so-dormant volcano.

Date: 2009-09-12 05:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sehlatbear.livejournal.com
It would be unwise to separate. Choose our path.

Date: 2009-09-12 05:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cso-spock.livejournal.com
In any other situation he would prefer to undertake a short, brief, yet logical analysis of each path in order to determine which route they should take.

Yet this environment was so unlike reality that any such reasoning had no bearing here. So he decided to use another approach: the Kirk method of decision making. He paused at the crossroads, toyed with his ill-used intuition and the ping-ping-ping of the resonance bond, and then began to walk down the right fork.

Date: 2009-09-12 05:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] iron-command.livejournal.com
Within a short distance, the path split again. A maze, perhaps? Even with the broken shielding that was a defense against the pain, it seemed that Pike's mind had its defenses. Ones that, presumably, his own Spock knew how to bypass.

Date: 2009-09-12 06:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] original-fine.livejournal.com
Jim's pleasure at receiving a message from Spock (http://mirroredspock.livejournal.com/1799.html?thread=9223#t9223) was quickly eclipsed by the scene before him.

He'd rushed here as soon as he could, the message having been forwarded to him at the gym, and arrived to see both Spocks bent over the other Pike, clearly in a meld. His blood ran cold at the sight, and one look at Kirk's face told him the young man felt similarly.

He could not possibly feel as Jim did, however. For one thing, his feelings were far too complicated for himself to name succinctly. For another, while Spock had not yet opened his own mind to Jim's to the extend he'd grown somewhat used to, the tension was there, filling him with unspecified dread. Loss. Compassion. Fear. Jim stood next to Kirk, sparing a glance for him.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

Date: 2009-09-12 01:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kirktastic.livejournal.com
"Hell's fucking breaking loose." Kirk growled right back, every bit of anger rumbling through his voice. "We got a message from Spock, his Spock," A gesture at Pher, "Making contact, wanting to get him back. Either before or after that, he was found down in the brig unconscious. They brought him to sickbay... something to do with the bond. They melded with him about ten seconds later."

And he fucking hated it.

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Captain Christopher Richard Pike

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