Pike stared at the regenerator as it worked, his face almost unreadable. He had marked Spock like one of his beasts, something he was proud to call his own. No part of him had even thought twice about the desire to put that label on Spock. Never before had he wanted to have anything similar. He had never dealt with any long-term relationship since the death of his partner at another Vulcan's hands, had never bothered with slaves or servants as they interrupted his peace with their very existence.
Why had he not even hesitated in leaving the mark, his mark, on Spock? The question nagged at him, yet he could find no answers for it nor even a sense of anger, guilt, or any other commonly associated feeling. Just a small, lingering sense that what he had chosen to do was right, and it would serve him well.
He usually listened to his instincts, so the feeling calmed some of the nagging. He removed the regenerator and after wetting a new, clean towel he washed away the last of the blood. The mark sat as a brilliant green against white, as perfect as it could be without a guide, image, or anything but his own hands to work with.
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Date: 2009-12-16 04:23 pm (UTC)Why had he not even hesitated in leaving the mark, his mark, on Spock? The question nagged at him, yet he could find no answers for it nor even a sense of anger, guilt, or any other commonly associated feeling. Just a small, lingering sense that what he had chosen to do was right, and it would serve him well.
He usually listened to his instincts, so the feeling calmed some of the nagging. He removed the regenerator and after wetting a new, clean towel he washed away the last of the blood. The mark sat as a brilliant green against white, as perfect as it could be without a guide, image, or anything but his own hands to work with.