Bonds Know No Distance
Sep. 10th, 2009 03:34 pmThe 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.
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.
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Date: 2009-09-12 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 02:49 am (UTC)Spock stepped forward, counterpart at his side.
"Christopher Pike, we wish to help you."
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:15 am (UTC)[OOC - If you hover over the text, there shall be a translation.]
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:35 am (UTC)"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!)
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:47 am (UTC)His fingers twitched in the restraints, and he gave a terse nod.
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:48 am (UTC)"Our minds, to your minds."
They slipped inside.
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 04:04 am (UTC)Here Be Dragons.
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Date: 2009-09-12 04:06 am (UTC)Spock nodded reassuringly at his counterpart and stepped to the doors. They opened.
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Date: 2009-09-12 04:07 am (UTC)histhis 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.
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Date: 2009-09-12 04:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 04:35 am (UTC)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.
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Date: 2009-09-12 04:42 am (UTC)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?
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Date: 2009-09-12 04:59 am (UTC)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.
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Date: 2009-09-12 05:09 am (UTC)Somewhere in the distance there was a low rumbling, like that of a not-so-dormant volcano.
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Date: 2009-09-12 05:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 05:34 am (UTC)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.
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Date: 2009-09-12 05:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 06:06 am (UTC)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.
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Date: 2009-09-12 01:10 pm (UTC)And he fucking hated it.
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Date: 2009-09-12 02:05 pm (UTC)When Jim walked in, he looked up and saw Kirk's face, hot anger flashing in his eyes. One more glance at the bed, and Bones stepped over to where Kirk and Jim were standing. "Welcome to the circus," he murmured to Jim with a nod.
"Everything's stable right now, with all of them" he added, looking at Kirk, a slight shrug - he knew that the mind meld was freaking the shit out of Kirk right now.
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:09 pm (UTC)"It's a miracle he's not mad already," Jim muttered. "Spock was on his knees barely before Bones was taken away from us, and that was a new bond, weak in comparison. For Pike to still be on his feet, weeks later? For him to be capable of civil conversation? His self-control is astounding."
Conflict swirled through him, and though he had no training as yet, he tried instinctively to keep it from affecting Spock. He wanted to help Pike, as much as he feared for Spock's life and mind in this situation. He would protect Spock with everything he had. But he would not deny this man the opportunity for comfort, however slim. Whatever he'd done. His situation did not entirely excuse his actions, but it went a long way to explaining them. At the same time... Spock was worth more, far more.
He hated waiting, and standing around.
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:17 pm (UTC)"He's strong." She murmured, sensitive ears picking up their comments easily. "He's had to be." She could remember with perfect clarity what this +ike had told her, what her mind had filled in. She wasn't sure if Pikes strength was a comfort or not. All she could do was wait and see and hope they had someone sane to pass back. Despite her outward projection of calm, the suspense was killing her.
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Date: 2009-09-12 03:56 pm (UTC)We must find a more efficient path than this.
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Date: 2009-09-12 06:12 pm (UTC)Spock stepped forward through the left fork this time, just a few feet, and then stopped. He reached out his hand to press his palm against the wall to the side, feeling the shifting undercurrent of thoughts more directly.
Sir, He called out to him directly. A straight path, if you will?
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