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.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 01:49 am (UTC)(He knew he should probably leave from this place and withdraw from the meld before something happened. Consequences he couldn't escape, images that he couldn't forget. But a falter here meant a failure outside. Failure was unacceptable.)
Ina. No. They weren't going anywhere. He will come for you.
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Date: 2009-09-14 12:45 pm (UTC)It is possible. He comes - will you not wait for him?
They Who Were Spock shared the memory of their own pain, filled themselves with it to drain it from Pike's identity.
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Date: 2009-09-14 01:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 01:36 pm (UTC)Kirk twisted a little from where he was looking at Pher and both Spocks, then hit the button on the comm, "Kirk here."
"Sir, we're at the coordinates."
...Thank fuck. He thought quickly - they could reach out with this, with a communication, and link up to the other Enterprise. Surely Pher's Spock had to be waiting for them, and that was part of what worried him.
"Kirk to transporter room."
"Yes, sir?"
"Prepare for incoming transport. Beam directly to sickbay."
"Yessir."
Kirk looked over his shoulder at the group, biting the inside of his lip for a moment. Bones, himself, Jim, George, and possibly the two Spocks were here to defend against Pher's Spock if needed. Security might make things worse, make Pher's Spock feel threatened. Just had to get that Spock in here, and get him out.
But what about the transport back? McCoy had been a healthy man, and he had barely survived the transport, ending up in a fucking coma. Pher was in a sorry state... would the man survive?
He sighed and nudged the comm button again, "Kirk to communications." Who would be up there, right then?
"Communications."
"Uhura should have left notes on the broadcast we received earlier. Record my following message and broadcast back on the same frequency in reply."
There was a brief silence before, "Recording now."
Kirk's eyes closed before speaking calmly, his voice rich, "This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise, Federation Space, responding to Commander Spock of the I.S.S. Enterprise, Terran Empire." It was beyond weird to say all of that. How had the other Spock known about them? About him? Fucking hell... "We have Captain Christopher Richard Pike. He has collapsed and is currently being held in sickbay. If you wish to retrieve him, you will need to lower your shields entirely and allow us to link up to your computers to coordinate transport."
Was that everything? Keep it short, simple. "End recording. Broadcast."
"Yessir."
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 01:49 pm (UTC)"You're doing the right thing," he said, low and strained. His tone implied, even if this fucks everything up.
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Date: 2009-09-14 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 01:58 pm (UTC)His grip on Jim was unconsciously tight, as if he was holding himself back as much as anything else. He knew he could not interfere, despite the interference that roiled within him around the bond, tugging and twisting and making him think he'd be lucky to retain the contents of his stomach. A light sheen of sweat had broken out about his temples, a headache, dismissed for now, having begun at the base of his skull.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 02:02 pm (UTC)Spock had dropped his shielding that usually kept them separated, and the half-bond was throbbing in the back of his mind like a pulled muscle, giving him a quickly building headache.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 02:12 pm (UTC)"Acknowledge it."
The words were harsh and clipped.
Christopher Christopher Christopher.
There was something wrong and Spock would not waste time. He locked the coordinates in and initiated a link between the two computer systems. Lowering the shields was nothing to him.
He stepped onto the transporter pad and waited for the familiar feeling to take him.
I am almost there, Christopher.
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Date: 2009-09-14 02:14 pm (UTC)The urgency in that voice made his heart go cold. "Kirk here."
"We need to drop shields now, they're--"
"Do it! Drop shields, get him over here! Drop him right here in sickbay, transport room should be ready!" He turned away from the comm.
Kirk looked to Jim, and almost on instinct, his fingers clenched tight into a fist. "It's happening."
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Date: 2009-09-14 02:17 pm (UTC)"He just wants Pike," he said. "We can't do anything that might make him feel threatened in the accomplishment of that goal." Because then they had something altogether different to deal with. Not his Spock. Not the slightly angrier younger one, or even the coldly ruthless one he'd met in the other universe. This was someone entirely different, unchained by logic except where it served his revenge. Or so Spock had implied.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 02:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 02:53 pm (UTC)"Usurpers."
It was a hissing whisper before Spock sprang into motion, the bond like a ringing bell in his mind, throughout his body, something like adrenaline coursing through him as he stalked to the bed on the side of the younger, slighter self, and placed his fingers on Christopher's face, overriding the meld points used by the others.
Christopher!
Inside Christopher's mind, the doors that had been barred were flung open. Spock had come for him.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 03:00 pm (UTC)It felt like the release of an orgasm, burning white hot and searing through him, the bond flaring to life so impossibly strong, coursing with the strength of their years together, scarred and made steady by everything that had occurred between them. Pike's mental and physical body arched, and he twisted, trying to reach out for the other half of his bond as energy flooded back into his mind.
Spock!
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Date: 2009-09-14 03:08 pm (UTC)With the doors flung open, he feels impossibly young and out of place, unwanted and unneeded. Spock knows he'll learn nothing more by lingering, and if he's honest with himself, the sudden feel of this familiar mind (in all its yearning force) makes him shiver outside and inside.
Spock pulls himself from them. He seperates his identity with little grace since he has none to bestow on the procedure, which leaves him with a painful reminder of his own individuality knocked back into his head. He nearly bumps into his mirror at his side as he sways, and the momentum of jerking his hand back threatens to affect his entire center of gravity.
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Date: 2009-09-14 03:13 pm (UTC)Suddenly there was light, the bloom of someone being transported. There was the hiss of a snake and a Vulcan that greatly resembled a mix of the two Spocks on either side of Pher's head stalked forward with all the grace of an angry panther. Then, three were in the meld.
Kirk physically staggered as he felt something slam through the connected bonds and wished more then ever either a) he knew how to shield b) this weird half-bond was more stable c) this weird half-bond didn't exist or d) HE KNEW HOW TO SHIELD! Gah!
Then Spock,
histhis universe's Spock, staggered, hand parting from Pher's face, and stumbled backwards. "Spock!" He wasn't even consciously aware of jerking forward sharply, moving in the tight space and grabbing Spock as he started to fall, catching the limp weight and pulling him backwards and upright."Spock, fuck, Spock...!" He twisted Spock around so he could look at the pale (even paler then normal) face, his own eyes full of worry. What the hell had happened in there? Had Pher's Spock struck out?
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Date: 2009-09-14 03:17 pm (UTC)He had seen the other Spock arrive, bearded and so like the one he knew. He had seen him growl, and dive for Pike's meld points, and then the twisting inside him had increased, the aching bond flooding the rest of his senses to the point where he merely stood, transfixed and gasping and unsure of what he was doing/seeing/sensing, something burning inside him that was almost sexual in its pleasure/pain and for the moment overrided all other thought.
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Date: 2009-09-14 03:41 pm (UTC)A choked noise escaped her throat as she saw Spock falter and almost drop, just a few seconds behind James. She gritted back the first remark that came to mind, teeth clenched tightly as she reached out for Spock's hand. Please be alright, please be alright, she repeated like a mantra in her mind, desperately wishing - and not for the first time - that she could do anything to be helpful, useful. Instead she just stayed gripping his hand, trying her best to project all the positive things that he summoned with her; love, warmth, complete trust. Out of some misplaced instinct she would ignore later, she reached out with her free hand and gripped James's arm tight.
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Date: 2009-09-14 03:58 pm (UTC)His counterpart's retreat knocks him back into a single identity, the pain of the suddenly broken blending between them ignored in this face of this Spock, this Christopher being reunited.
Christopher is struggling to rise - Spock will not enter those doors with him but he helps the man to stand.
Do you know what to do?
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Date: 2009-09-14 04:29 pm (UTC)Go. Part statement, part question, part command. Yet he turned his head enough to look back at Spock again, an almost thankful expression. This had been the one, much to his own surprise, to comfort him, help him. It was a near-unknown in his own universe, but here it could not make sense to aid the enemy either. Something to think on, later.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 04:48 pm (UTC)The transition back into himself was easier because he was no rushing it. Still, something like exhaustion and something else like (desireneedtouchkissclaim) wanting to touch Jim buzzed through him, mind and body.
His counterpart was being cared for - they could speak another time.
Spock kept his hands to himself but raised his heated gaze to make eye contact with his Jim.
"Captain, I request assisstance back to my quarters."
That Spock would be no trouble, too caught up in repairing the hurts to his Christopher's mind.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 04:56 pm (UTC)Something to worry about later.
Spock's presence--singular and needy and needed--roared back into him, and even so he was able to straighten, to pull his expression together into something like calm despite the burning coals Spock's eyes now resembled. He didn't know how much Spock was letting him feel, consciously or not, but it was enough to know that whatever it was it was worse for Spock that Jim. And Jim himself felt wrung out.
Strong enough for Spock, though. Always.
He nodded, glancing at the others assembled and deciding to trust that the other Spock and Pike would be occupied. Still, he looked over at McCoy. "Make sure someone keeps their eye on those two," he said. "And I would ask that Jim contact us should anything arise." His tone did not command, but it was the voice of a captain, born and trained.
Jim moved to Spock and, arranging himself at his side, moved his outer arm to offer his first two fingers in addition to the physical suport.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 05:12 pm (UTC)But he reaches out to brush Jim's fingers with his own, the brief touch enough to communicate...
Spock does not trust his own restraint at the moment. He trusted Jim not to be offended, to know it is not Jim that Spock is resisting but the thrumming in his blood.
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Date: 2009-09-14 05:17 pm (UTC)He didn't need a display, with or without the bond.
Jim excused them, not knowing if Jim and the other Spock and Uhura even knew they were there, and certain Pike and Spock were lost to them for now. And he led Spock from sickbay without touching him, lending his presence and the support of their own bond, as open to his mate as he knew how to be.