[Captain's Office] -- [Kirk and Spock]
Spock stalked off after the meeting, ignoring the glares from Jim's father and the look of concerns from Pike, controlling his own anger served as an adequate distraction. He walked towards his quarters--stepped in for about five seconds, thinking--and then turned his heel and walked straight back out, down the corridors, and right into Jim's office. As he expected, it wasn't locked or secure in any way (something he would also have to mention to Jim), and there was no one currently occupying it. He looked around the office, surveying the furniture and various objects that could prove useful in--situations. He took one of the chairs in front of the desk, and turned it around to face the door before sitting in it. His elbows on the arm rests, his fingers laced together, eyes focused on the door. He would wait.
Kirk walked back towards his office as he had told his father. The meeting had gone ... well... sort of okay. As much of a headache as he had expected but at least some things got solved. Pike, Sarek, and the eldest of the three Spocks would interrogate Pher, and hopefully they would get the information they needed. I want that bastard off my ship, no matter what. I don't care how, honestly. Everyone's pissed that I said we should kill him but honestly, if we can't get him home to his universe... I'll do it my god damn self.
He sighed as he came up to his office doors. I'm getting a stimulant and something for this headache, and I need to finish all that documentation Pike needs. I really wanna get a look at Pher myself. I just don't have-- The door to his office open and he stepped forward, and his head came up. Someone was already in his office. The very last person he wanted to see right now.
Fuck.
"Jim," His tone was absolutely calm, still--which meant that between when they had parted and now, he had spent all this energy stuffing the rage down, which meant it was just ready to explode at him. His eyes--cold, emotionless, deadly?--focused on Kirk's face. "We must discuss the images you projected during the meeting," And there, the doors closed behind Kirk.
The hissing sound as the door closed behind him produced an echoing and very audible swallow. "I... I... should get going..." He was not ready for this. Spock looked ready to kill him, and he hadn't even done anything wrong! "If you'll excuse me, Spock--"
"S'chn-T'gai-five-sigma-epsilon."
There was the tiny, almost inaudible hiss as the locks engaged in the door.
Fuck.
Then Spock stood from the chair, hands going to his sides and--shit--started walking towards him, one step at a time, until he was standing right in front of Jim, way, way too close. Spock wasn't touching him, not strangling him, and despite being the same height, managed to stare down at him. "Jim," I'm going to kill you. That's what his voice said.
Kirk stepped back, but the flat of his shoulder blades pressed against the now closed and locked doors. I'm going to die in my office at the hands of my first officer. "Spock, I really, really don't want to deal with this right now." He tried to say in his defense (he didn't EVER want to deal with this). Spock did not sound particularly logical right now.
Surprisingly, Spock still didn't strangle him, and kept that tiny (too tiny) distance between them. He was, apparently, logical enough to know that striking a fellow officer was a court-martial offense. "That is unfortunate, because I do not believe we will have another opportunity to discuss this in the near future," And his hand? Yeah, that was his hand, as a fist, cutting off one of Jim's possible escape routes by pressing against the door right by Jim's elbow. "I also wish to resolve this matter before it escalates into a more distracting condition."
This was getting more and more likely to end in death by the second. One wrong thing and he had a feeling that fist was going to find his throat. He knew its stung way too well. "...Do you really want to talk about it?" Seriously, why did Spock want to talk about it? To get his anger going or something so he had a reason to strangle?
"Yes, I do," The tone was still there, still I am going to squeeze your throat so hard your eyeballs will pop out, covered up by a deadly polite serving of And they won't even find your body. "You were distracted during the meeting because of these images, which makes it my concern. What--" Could he get any closer without touching him? Apparently he could. "--have you been engaging in to induce such thoughts? Or is it simply--" Was that the sound of his knuckles cracking? "--inherent in your nature?"
Another swallow. Oh, man, this just wasn't his night was it? "...I could hear him in my head." He said quietly, honestly, in a 'seriously don't kill me' sort of voice that he would deny forever.
"Him?" That was not a nice voice at all. "Who do you hear inside your head, Jim?" Spock gave perhaps the lightest impression that he wouldn't be averse to reaching inside of his mind and ripping whoever it was right out.
"Spock." Was all he really needed to say, meeting those dark eyes staring at him. He couldn't hear anything, right now. Silence, considering all three of them were probably asleep. It was the first time he could think clearly all day-- or would have been, if those damn images the older Spock had put into his mind didn't keep cropping up like a siren's call to come join them. The same Siren's call he had been trying to ignore all day.
Spock knew what he meant, that it wasn't him, but his elder counterpart. This did seem to quell that flare of--rage, was it?--enough to make Spock step back. His fist dropped from the door, and relaxed at his side, but the tension still held his muscles tight. He was either pulling himself back to control himself, or he was pulling back to smash his face in within the next three seconds. "Is he aware of this link?"
"Link?" Obviously Kirk wasn't too aware of it. "How... How could there be a link?" Of course there could. Of course. Settled deep, what had allowed those images to keep coming through all day. "He was talking to me. So, I guess so?" He didn't want there to be a link! It was supposed to be with the other Jim, the other Bones. ...Fuck. Can Bones hear him too? That wasn't jealousy burning in him. No.
Well, shit, his hand was tightening into a fist again--but it was on the other arm. Spock half-turned from him. The perfect position to either whip around and knock his head off, or just another show of reining in this aggravation. "For how long as this been occurring?"
"Day or so?" Kirk offered. "I started feeling it after I went into his room and--" A full stop. His eyes went wide for a moment, and he just did a full outright stop. He wasn't about to tell Spock the truth of that. "And checked up on him."
"You are withholding important information from me," Spock said, slowly, in a low tone, and that was it--he turned to Jim, fixed his hand on his shoulder, and shoved him back into the door. The other came up for his throat--but only to grab the collar of the undershirt and tug it down to reveal the bruise at his neck completely. "This," He did not growl, but the sense was there. "Did this come from that encounter? Do not leave me uninformed, Captain."
A grunt left Kirk as he hit the door. Not quite hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to feel it through his entire back. His eyes went wide and he brought his arms up to defend himself from the throat grab coming his way-- then they froze awkwardly in mid-air as his collar was simply pulled aside. The bruise was an ugly thing, curled purple in a curve of teeth mark, edging towards brown and olive green at the edges. Kirk was silent for several moments, then he spoke, "Yea, it did. And it's none of your fucking business." He did growl on the other hand, his eyes narrowing. He had to work to speak around the image forming in his mind, "I'm sorry that you got hit with them, but I'm not sorry that those images were in my head." Spock, the older Spock, behind the other Jim, bent over his back and growling in his ear that same title in nearly the same tone.
Spock glanced up and held his gaze for a few moments, his own expression unreadable, not showing what he was searching for. Then, his gaze fell back down to the bruise. Pinching the edge of the shirt between his fingers to keep it out of the way, Spock ran his thumb along the outline of the bite bruise. There was a tiny sound of pain from Kirk as the bruise was still sore--
He was looking down at Jim as the younger captain slid himself closer, his head tilting so flesh would slide more easily into his throat, until the curve of the nose was buried in dark hair. A brief glance up would see Jim, his Jim, penetrating the younger man in a violent thrust that pushed him forward, forcing hard flesh further down his throat yet not triggering the gag reflex as it should have. A hand, slender fingered with orange veins, came into view and slid through the silken blond strands of Jim Kirk's hair as he was held in place, erection completely buried into his hot mouth. Thoughts that normally moved in their constant linear fashion had been stopped by the fever in his blood, but a single thought came forward through the heat. Mine.
Spock jerked his hand back for the second time this evening, not being able to endure the thought more than a few seconds. So strong, so vivid, his-but-not. It was another show of this other self superseding him--leaving him second to someone he couldn't possibly beat--his fingers twitched into a familiar position, his hand lifted from his neck towards his face--
Oh. Hell. No. Kirk knew this trick now. One old crafty bastard of Spock had gotten away with him being naive of what this was. One version of Spock had put a fear of another meld into his mind. The full on connection of two minds when he had no power at all over what was happening-- "NO." He growled, reaching up and grasping the Vulcan's wrist hard to stop it from coming any closer. "No." His eyes were narrowed, confused, backed by maybe the tiniest hint of fear. He had had memories poured into his mind, filling empty places up, felt grief and pain beyond his years without time to fully process it. Never again.
What about what's already happened? The bond--
Different. The bond's different. It has to be. They can't see into my mind--
He could hear me when I was talking to myself. He can, just like when--
He didn't mean to hurt me, he just--
What does it matter? Everyone else thinks he practically raped you, and you just--
He's my friend. This is different.
"No."
Spock's eyes were wide, almost--fearful--as they stared at Jim's, stared at his own fingers which were hovered over the meld-points. He tore away his wrist and took a few hurried steps back, putting about ten feet between them, and then turned his back to Jim. A few deep breaths, berating himself mentally, his lack of control, eroded every day since that. He had been distracted, unfocused, and now absolutely immoral towards a man who didn't deserve it--for what, pride? Insecurity? Was this what he had been reduced to?
"Jim," His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, softer than the last time his hands had pulled back from lethal positions. "Please. Forgive me."
Silence. Jim Kirk said nothing at all as he stared at Spock's back, trying to figure out what had just happened other then the obvious. Spock's eyes had gone glazed for a moment then suddenly movement. An attempted meld, like attempted rape of the mind. Obviously though, Spock had not been ready for it, not trying. He could almost instantly get Spock in deep, deep waters. Bones, his father... Admiral Pike.
Instead, he remained silent.
"Jim, please," Repeated again, soft but not calm, lined with fear and guilt that he could only half-stifle. He knew as well as Jim the many different people he could ask to make his life a living hell from now until they reached a starbase for a court martial. "I do not know what has come over me. I did not mean to attempt a meld. I..."
Carefully Kirk moved so his back was no longer melding with the door, but stayed in front of it. Thoughts of court martial were far from his mind. "Why?" He asked in a perhaps surprisingly gentle voice, a tilt to his head that was slight. His face was equally surprisingly devoid of what must have been going through his mind. Strange for a man who normally wore his heart on his sleeve.
Spock turned slightly, to look up at him, but all he was thinking about was how his life was, for the most part, completely ruined; he took Jim's not-anger to be further sign of his downfall. He held back his answer for a few moments, as he retreated to sit in the chair that he had occupied before. His eyes stared hard at the floor, struggling to acquire the ease of a man who knew it was over. "I suppose...that it is the only method by which I may rival my older self," Because there certainly wasn't anything else he could do, but a child in comparison: weaker, more emotional, more ignorant, without the grasp on human behavior nor the confidence to deal with it. In the strength of mind, they were more comparable, but now, it seemed he had lost that battle, too.
That made very little sense to Kirk, honestly, but he took an intuitive leap, "Spock... are you jealous of your older self?" To steal the phrase from Spock. He wanted to make sure the little bit of knowledge he had about how Spock was working at the moment was right instead of running off with it like he normally did. ...I might almost be getting responsible. Scary thought, that.
"While it is a foolish notion, it is the only one that is applicable," One arm resting on the arm rest; his hand flexed into a fist, and then relaxed again. There was nothing logical about jealousy, hardly anything ever came out of it, but he had not found himself above it, yet. Just another sign of his youth.
"...Don't ever fucking try to get in my head again, got it?" Kirk was serious for a moment, then relaxed a little. They could get through this. He walked over and around the desk, digging into a drawer. He pulled out a hypo and a pair of pills, and before Spock could stop him, hissed as he got himself with the hypo. Hated the damn things.
Spock glanced over his shoulder, always keeping him in sight (for safety reasons), and arched an eyebrow at the self-application of the hypo. He thought Jim hated those things. "Understood. Is Doctor McCoy aware that you have that medication?" Not to change the subject, but some professional concern.
"No. It's just a stimulant. Used them when I was really fucked in college." A small grin, but he lifted his eyes. You keep this quiet, I don't tell anyone what you almost did to me. Not that the two things were really comparable, but he had a feeling it would make Spock feel more even. Slowly, he was learning some things about Spock, usually taught through fear, intuition, or shock. Like when these little (non-injury inducing) slips of emotion happened, he had to take them in stride. He could not punish Spock for feeling, even if he usually had to endure the brunt of it.
Made for good between-them-only blackmail for later, too.
The most excellent foundations for a working relationship. "I see," Spock knew the implications of Jim's look and appeared to accept it; he shifted his gaze back from the other back to the floor. So, if Jim appeared to not be calling security immediately, why did he still feel as if his stripes were about to be ripped off his sleeve?
Kirk popped the two pills and swallowed them dry, pulling a face. He came back around the desk and flopped down into the chair, feeling a bit more human as the stimulant took effect. "I don't know what's going on with me and the other Spock, alright? I know he can hear me, sometimes. I can hear him, sometimes. I kind of want it to stop, and kinda don't. I know Bones is having the same thing happening to him." He was being blunt, for now.
The hand on the arm rest flexed in and out of a fist again. "It may be a variation on a bond, given what he has done with yourselves, of both universes," It did not exactly take a genius to figure out why they had to have a video feed. "I must also correct you: if the images appear as freely as they do, he can likely hear your thoughts anytime he wishes, but his remain behind mental barriers which he may open at will," Bonding with humans did sound unfair for this reason, unless they learned to mimic the techniques.
Silence, for a long moment. The other Spock could see in his head. Like, right now? "Bullshit. No, fuck no. I am not having that. How do I make it stop?" He demanded in that irrational tone of his, his eyes narrowing to slits. He could deal with a lot of things, but his head was his own. He already had one Spock in there, and shit was left behind that he still needed to deal with. He didn't need more of it without his full consent which not one of them had! He could at least deal with the reasons the eldest of the three had done the mind-meld under, even if everyone else was hating it, but... not this. Not this thing that let someone see the pretty pictures in his head all the time.
While the general annoyance was not directed at him, he figured that Jim would not appreciate his ignorance on the matter. "You will have to request him to dissolve it, as it is between you and him."
"And if he won't?" Came the immediate response. "And if he can't? What if this has something to do with the other me? I just... fuck!" He hated this. He hated these people being in his head. Why, he couldn't immediately say other than maybe because it wasn't a fair trade off.
"Then you will need to learn methods of how to control your own mind," Inside, Spock couldn't help but scoff at the possibility. He could only imagine the disarray Jim's mind was normally, how little he could possibly put up in the face of another, telepathically-stronger mind.
That made Jim's look go into a blank stare. "Well, I can fully tell how much you believe in my ability to do that." Spoken in a dry, blunt tone.
Spock glanced up at him. "I admit that I do not have the greatest confidence regarding you finding the time to master it. On the other hand, I do not doubt your ability, as you are capable of nearly anything if you only have the determination," Such as several situations which he would rather not think about, when Jim had got one over him.
The compliment made Kirk pause physically and mentally, and his gaze and smile softened, "Well, thanks." A bit unsure still how to take any personal compliment from Spock. "I guess if it comes to that, I'll deal with it then." He met the Vulcan's eyes for a long moment, and sunk back in his chair. Least he didn't feel afraid for his life anymore. ...Okay, at least for right now.
"If I may, Jim," It appeared no discipline was forthcoming, and he was still (to his disbelief), alive and First Officer. He stood from his chair. "I must return to my research."
"...Not so fast." A single finger was held up, "Sit back down. There's something we need to talk about." His face was surprisingly unreadable and not so surprisingly direct.
Fear was illogical. Especially given that the worst possibilities had just been passed over. So he had to find another word for the electricity shooting up his spine and the sudden tension in his muscles again. Cautiously, Spock returned to his seat, hand folded over fist in his lap. "Yes?"
Or at least Spock thought the worst possibilities had just passed. "So, I went down and talked to the watch officer earlier today about making sure no one enters the brig alone." He started off, watching Spock closely to see if he'd get a reaction of any sort.
He hoped that now, of all times, he would be able to conduct himself with dignity regardless of--what had happened. Spock said nothing to this, merely waiting for him to continue; his gaze met Jim's evenly, unwavering, trying to keep all of the possible emotional and physical reactions in check when he would rather bolt through the door.
"And imagine my surprise when I find out that... you were already done there." His eyes narrowed, "You know, without telling me. And dismissing the guards," He leaned forward, "And fucking with the security tapes." His tone expressed his severe displeasure at all of this. He sounded more ticked about this then the almost-meld.
Understandable. The movement was slight: his fingers curling over his fist to dig his nails into the back of his hand, but he didn't look away. "The security tapes, sir?" He didn't usually feign ignorance, especially when it came to matters such as these, but he was rather sure he had taken care of the tapes discreetly.
"You know. The ones that don't show you coming down at all, as if nothing ever happened, but at least three people can verify you were there and speaking with the prisoner." He almost stood up, teeth showing slightly, "Also, you forgot that there's a record made of each time the barrier drops to each cell." Completely calling his bullshit. Kirk was pissed off that Spock had kept this from him, and he planned to make sure he knew exactly why it fucking happened.
Oh, he knew about the records; he just thought he would have more time to worm his way into that system and scrub them appropriately. But, with three witnesses, it hardly mattered. He wasn't about to call doubt on the crew, either; he had lost enough honour in this whole debacle. He hadn't even thought about what he would tell Jim yet, and as they were rapidly approaching the part he had yet to predict, that not-fear began to tingle in his mind again. Spock said nothing; there was no point in arguing with the truth.
"So," He glanced up, "Doors, Lock, Captain's Override, James-Kirk-Six-Five-Gamma-Three-Sigma." With that lock in place, only able to be broken by the CMO's emergency medical override, he sat back. "We stay here until you tell me what the fuck went on down in the brig."
He didn't think this would be a very effective tactic, and he already knew what Jim would say in response to it, the easy logical pitfalls, but it was the only alternative between complete silence or outright revelation. "If I had learned any pertinent information from the prisoner, I would have already told you," Carefully chosen words. "It was a mistake."
"You spent just under thirty minutes in the cell, IN the cell, dammit!" Kirk's fingers gripped hard on the edge of the chair, "With a man we already knew was dangerous! I want to know what you two talked about, what he did." That tone of voice had definitely wandered into 'this is an order' territory. What was Spock keeping from him!?
Selective truth. That would be the only tool he could use in this situation, and once Jim knew he was using it, that would be the end of any resistance (as far as he knew, right now). "We talked about myself, specifically pertaining to the differences between counterpart he is familiar with, as well as the overall differences between universes," Though that had taken up so little of their time, so insignificant compared to what had happened when Spock was not talking.
Intuition was nuzzling at the back of Kirk's mind like an eager puppy, and it was telling him that there was more to it then that. He leaned forward, "And?" He said simply, urging Spock to continue. He would keep pushing the Vulcan until he knew what happened or his intuition was satisfied. Jim, do you get these weird feelings too?
Spock couldn't out-right lie to him, not after the show of mercy Jim had given him earlier, but he still hesitated. He didn't want to say this aloud--ever. He was quite content to never speak of it for the rest of his life. "That was all we discussed," Not a lie. The other things had not been conversation but orders, commands he did not wish to think about.
Discussed. Kirk's brows furrowed together, studying the seemingly calm Vulcan in front of him. "We know he didn't even have to touch Ensign Spottacus to do something to her." Implying a great deal in that statement, and he knew he was. Could that evil version of their Pike have done something to Spock that was similar?
"Fortunately, the force-field prevented that from escalating," A force-field he had taken down.
"One you didn't have up. Nothing preventing anything from happen." Challenge in his voice, in his eyes.
"Do you suspect that anything happened besides our conversation?" If not, he could waltz out of here by blaming Kirk's own fatigue-induced paranoia. If so, then. Well.
"Your words and actions are making me believe something else happened." Forcing the issue on this one. The more they talked, the more he was sure of it.
His nails were still digging into the skin on the back of his hand. Given the Vulcan epidermis, it hadn't broken with green-blooded wounds yet, but that was the only reason why. This was it, wasn't it? He'd never leave this room alive. "I melded with him," And he wasn't sure which revolted him more, the meld or what had happened directly after.
Kirk jerked a little, his eyes going wide. This was not what he had been expecting. He understood, after speaking with at least the two older Spocks, how intimate a mind-meld was. He knew from experience nearly as much, but now he had more understanding of what he had felt. His lips were parted, staring at Spock in a near-horror look. He worked his throat, swallowed, then tried again, "You did WHAT?" It couldn't be true. Spock wouldn't do that. He wasn't that stupid!
At this, he had to look away to the floor again. "Do not make me repeat myself, Jim. It is the only possible method to extract information from him--or it would be, if I had but the skill to manage it."
"You went into the cell with him, touched him, he still has those gloves!, and melded with him." When the hell did he stand up? Kirk wasn't sure but he was angry as hell. "You didn't even let us TRY any other method! You just went ahead and did what was right and he could have KILLED YOU!" His rant ended in a bellow, thank god the walls were soundproof. Okay, maybe that wasn't all anger. Definitely worry was in there.
For the briefest moment, Spock almost wished that he had; it would have simplified matters, as with his death they'd have reason for execution, and that would get rid of the problem easily. None of this humanitarian temporal alterations. "I requested that he remove his gloves before I stepped within range," His voice felt small, distant, and impossibly quiet against Jim's shouts.
"...you requested-" He sputtered, then turned partly away so he could collect his thoughts. It took a second for him to realize that if Spock had requested the man to remove his gloves, then got close enough to do the mind-meld, that Pher had removed his gloves. He had listened to Spock and disarmed himself so to speak. A slow, shaking breath. "Alright." His voice was very tight when he spoke, "What happened with the meld?"
The difficulty in this lay more in the fact that Jim did not understand the nuances of doing a mind meld, of unfolding the layers of somebody's mind until you came upon what you wanted. So he simplified the complex process. "He knew what I was attempting to do, and he constructed the appropriate barriers to prevent my progress."
"You said you talked with him about your counterpart, meaning he's dealt with a Spock before. One he knows can do melds. How did--" Stop. "Did you talk about the other universe... before or after the meld?" Suspicious eyes were turned on Spock.
He did not look up at him. "It was a point of conversation on either side of the meld."
"Dammit, Spock! What the hell?! I thought you were smarter then this and I hear you're going around, melding with prisoners... not that I care about how he felt about the whole thing but you could have been hurt!" He didn't know the full extent of 'hurt' and what it could be, but he had an inkling. Kirk suddenly stepped forward and leaned in close, his eyes narrowed, "What did he do during that meld? What defenses did he have?" His voice was very quiet. "How do I know this isn't some influence of his, that you wanted to come in here and strangle me for something I couldn't control?"
He leaned back in his chair, away from him; the bubble he had suffocated Jim with earlier against the door was now being used against him. "I am not certain whether it is, or not, but I am not strangling you at the moment," Spock noted. He had at least lasted this long without seeing the man again, without suffering as that ensign had. "His defenses were Starfleet standards, at first. You should be familiar with the concept of using passages as a mental distraction."
That made Kirk's lips quirk for just a second, "Tyger! Tyger! burning bright / In the forests of the night, / What immortal hand or eye / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?" He had chosen a few very choice poems as what he had memorized. They had put him through some nasty tests to prove it had stuck. "All of us on the command track had to do it." So that was to start with, "What came afterwards?"
To this question, he was silent for a few moments. His hands withdrew from their over-under grip to the arm rests; one of them had deep gouges on the back. "He pulled me into a memory of himself and my mirror counterpart," This man had known about the meld, but not only that, knew how to work within it, especially to his advantage.
Kirk's fingers gripped tightly to each other. This was getting worse by the second, and things were starting to click. The only real reason Spock would have to completely hide such things would be for the same reason he schooled his face into near blankness - to hide emotions. "...What memory, Spock?" He kept his voice almost quiet, still very much inside of Spock's bubble-space, focused entirely on the Vulcan's face and eyes.
Spock's eyes flickered from one side of Jim to the other, but still didn't rise to meet his gaze. What was he going to say? He couldn't tell him about the explicit details of it, that initiation onto the Enterprise constituted a beating and more instead of a smiling captain and a guided tour. What was the essence of it, what could he tell him without having to relive through the whole thing over again--"Sexual relations."
A lot of things clicked into place with the sureness of a lock popping open. Kirk stared at Spock for a long moment, trying to get his head wrapped around all of this. Spock had gone into that bastard's mind who had been ready for him. Surely Pher knew about mind-melds, and if Uhura was right and the Vulcans had been the 'Terran Empire's enemies, and considering what they had just been speaking about two seconds ago... Their commands are trained not just for physical torture, but how to deal with mental torture like a mind-meld. Holy fuck. That was important. He had to make sure Ambassader Spock, Sarek, and Pike knew about that before they went down to talk to Pher.
On top of that... it was basically like rape. Pher had shown Spock a memory, and if it was anything like the mental connection he had felt when the older Spock had merely touched him, it would have been full blown with feelings and emotions and imagery, of Spock's counterpart and him having relations. Fucking. Oh. Shit. "...Spock..." He said the name quietly, almost stunned. He just couldn't find words to complete the questions in his mind.
"I withdrew, then, of course," But he hadn't withdrawn before the lust and everything else associated had hit him, before the control had intoxicated his mind. He took a breath, as if to say more, but didn't. From Jim's own experiences it would be easy enough to figure out how disorienting the memory would have been, and what could have progressed now that Spock had been dazed, alone in the presence of a man with no morals and historical lust.
"What did he do?" Spock would have been incapacitated. A memory that strong... he could remember the meld breaking free in the ice cave, how the entire world had rocked and for a minute or two or three he had been unable to fully focus on anything except what Spock was telling him. He had stumbled after the old Vulcan, letting the annoyingly long walk to the station get his mind back into some semblance of working order. Spock, on an easy guess, would have been the same. Pher would have been able to do anything he wanted for that short amount of time. Influence, touch, kill. Anything.
"I would rather not say," Which said everything.
He was right. Pher had done something to Spock, something that had scared the Vulcan into not only silence, but into doing things that were court-martial material to cover it up. "Spock, look at me." Kirk said, his tone almost scared for Spock. Shit, shit. Had Pher affected Spock's mind? Was he dealing with Spock having been assaulted in some way? This is something they don't teach you enough of in the academy! Shit, Jim, I suddenly wish I had your experience but I don't think even that is enough to deal with this!
When Spock finally looked up at him, his expression was, as expected, almost completely blank. Whatever he was feeling--too much, in his opinion--he was stuffing it down, even as it was coming up in conversation. He would not allow himself to get humiliated for a second time, especially in front of the man that actually was his Captain.
A hand dropped down onto Spock's self-injured one, squeezing lightly in a very human gesture, "...fuck, look... We're not close, not by any long shot, but you're still my first officer. I'm not going to ask you specifics, okay? I have a pretty good feeling that you're supressing everything because evidently that's what all good Vulcan do until they strangle their Captain." He didn't know how to deal with this. He really didn't. So he was going at it the only way he could, which was by his not-always-great-instincts. "...Go... go talk to Uhura. Someone you can trust. One of your other selves or something. I dunno, fuck." He slid his other hand through his hair, realizing there was little he could do. All of this probably was just pissing Spock off. He stepped back from the other, looking to Spock. No pity, just concern.
"I do not wish to dwell on the past, nor to involve other people in this matter," There was a small bit of resentment towards Jim, for bringing it up and thus cementing the fact it had actually happened, but the rest of it was analyzing his concern, his gestures, his advice.
Kirk let out a sigh, trying to think of anything else at all. He looked to the side for a moment, then quietly said, "...Alright, Spock. Go get some sleep. Long day tomorrow, I have a feeling." The stimulant was kicking in his blood, and he wanted to get what he needed to before he went back to Bones' room. He didn't really want to deal with anything there other then curling up and going to sleep. He looked towards the door in a vague way, "Captain's Override, Door, Unlock, James-Kirk-Sigma-Alpha-Seven-Zero-Two."
Spock looked at him, studied him for a few more moments, before he simply nodded, stood, and left. He wanted to say thank you, for postponing the end of his career until a later date, for not chastising him for seeing the prisoner in quite the manner he expected--but he didn't have the energy for it, unless he wanted something else to slip through.
Kirk just remained in his seat, staring at nothing in particular. He finally let out a sigh, hauling his bones up out of the chair, and went to sit back behind the desk. No rest for the weary, no rest for the wicked. He thumbed a padd over closer to him, stared blankly at it before shaking his head. How do you deal with a Vulcan who has mental trauma? He doesn't trust me, and I have no idea how much he's talking to Uhura... Something caught his eye and he turned his hand over.
The palm was smeared with green blood.
Kirk walked back towards his office as he had told his father. The meeting had gone ... well... sort of okay. As much of a headache as he had expected but at least some things got solved. Pike, Sarek, and the eldest of the three Spocks would interrogate Pher, and hopefully they would get the information they needed. I want that bastard off my ship, no matter what. I don't care how, honestly. Everyone's pissed that I said we should kill him but honestly, if we can't get him home to his universe... I'll do it my god damn self.
He sighed as he came up to his office doors. I'm getting a stimulant and something for this headache, and I need to finish all that documentation Pike needs. I really wanna get a look at Pher myself. I just don't have-- The door to his office open and he stepped forward, and his head came up. Someone was already in his office. The very last person he wanted to see right now.
Fuck.
"Jim," His tone was absolutely calm, still--which meant that between when they had parted and now, he had spent all this energy stuffing the rage down, which meant it was just ready to explode at him. His eyes--cold, emotionless, deadly?--focused on Kirk's face. "We must discuss the images you projected during the meeting," And there, the doors closed behind Kirk.
The hissing sound as the door closed behind him produced an echoing and very audible swallow. "I... I... should get going..." He was not ready for this. Spock looked ready to kill him, and he hadn't even done anything wrong! "If you'll excuse me, Spock--"
"S'chn-T'gai-five-sigma-epsilon."
There was the tiny, almost inaudible hiss as the locks engaged in the door.
Fuck.
Then Spock stood from the chair, hands going to his sides and--shit--started walking towards him, one step at a time, until he was standing right in front of Jim, way, way too close. Spock wasn't touching him, not strangling him, and despite being the same height, managed to stare down at him. "Jim," I'm going to kill you. That's what his voice said.
Kirk stepped back, but the flat of his shoulder blades pressed against the now closed and locked doors. I'm going to die in my office at the hands of my first officer. "Spock, I really, really don't want to deal with this right now." He tried to say in his defense (he didn't EVER want to deal with this). Spock did not sound particularly logical right now.
Surprisingly, Spock still didn't strangle him, and kept that tiny (too tiny) distance between them. He was, apparently, logical enough to know that striking a fellow officer was a court-martial offense. "That is unfortunate, because I do not believe we will have another opportunity to discuss this in the near future," And his hand? Yeah, that was his hand, as a fist, cutting off one of Jim's possible escape routes by pressing against the door right by Jim's elbow. "I also wish to resolve this matter before it escalates into a more distracting condition."
This was getting more and more likely to end in death by the second. One wrong thing and he had a feeling that fist was going to find his throat. He knew its stung way too well. "...Do you really want to talk about it?" Seriously, why did Spock want to talk about it? To get his anger going or something so he had a reason to strangle?
"Yes, I do," The tone was still there, still I am going to squeeze your throat so hard your eyeballs will pop out, covered up by a deadly polite serving of And they won't even find your body. "You were distracted during the meeting because of these images, which makes it my concern. What--" Could he get any closer without touching him? Apparently he could. "--have you been engaging in to induce such thoughts? Or is it simply--" Was that the sound of his knuckles cracking? "--inherent in your nature?"
Another swallow. Oh, man, this just wasn't his night was it? "...I could hear him in my head." He said quietly, honestly, in a 'seriously don't kill me' sort of voice that he would deny forever.
"Him?" That was not a nice voice at all. "Who do you hear inside your head, Jim?" Spock gave perhaps the lightest impression that he wouldn't be averse to reaching inside of his mind and ripping whoever it was right out.
"Spock." Was all he really needed to say, meeting those dark eyes staring at him. He couldn't hear anything, right now. Silence, considering all three of them were probably asleep. It was the first time he could think clearly all day-- or would have been, if those damn images the older Spock had put into his mind didn't keep cropping up like a siren's call to come join them. The same Siren's call he had been trying to ignore all day.
Spock knew what he meant, that it wasn't him, but his elder counterpart. This did seem to quell that flare of--rage, was it?--enough to make Spock step back. His fist dropped from the door, and relaxed at his side, but the tension still held his muscles tight. He was either pulling himself back to control himself, or he was pulling back to smash his face in within the next three seconds. "Is he aware of this link?"
"Link?" Obviously Kirk wasn't too aware of it. "How... How could there be a link?" Of course there could. Of course. Settled deep, what had allowed those images to keep coming through all day. "He was talking to me. So, I guess so?" He didn't want there to be a link! It was supposed to be with the other Jim, the other Bones. ...Fuck. Can Bones hear him too? That wasn't jealousy burning in him. No.
Well, shit, his hand was tightening into a fist again--but it was on the other arm. Spock half-turned from him. The perfect position to either whip around and knock his head off, or just another show of reining in this aggravation. "For how long as this been occurring?"
"Day or so?" Kirk offered. "I started feeling it after I went into his room and--" A full stop. His eyes went wide for a moment, and he just did a full outright stop. He wasn't about to tell Spock the truth of that. "And checked up on him."
"You are withholding important information from me," Spock said, slowly, in a low tone, and that was it--he turned to Jim, fixed his hand on his shoulder, and shoved him back into the door. The other came up for his throat--but only to grab the collar of the undershirt and tug it down to reveal the bruise at his neck completely. "This," He did not growl, but the sense was there. "Did this come from that encounter? Do not leave me uninformed, Captain."
A grunt left Kirk as he hit the door. Not quite hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to feel it through his entire back. His eyes went wide and he brought his arms up to defend himself from the throat grab coming his way-- then they froze awkwardly in mid-air as his collar was simply pulled aside. The bruise was an ugly thing, curled purple in a curve of teeth mark, edging towards brown and olive green at the edges. Kirk was silent for several moments, then he spoke, "Yea, it did. And it's none of your fucking business." He did growl on the other hand, his eyes narrowing. He had to work to speak around the image forming in his mind, "I'm sorry that you got hit with them, but I'm not sorry that those images were in my head." Spock, the older Spock, behind the other Jim, bent over his back and growling in his ear that same title in nearly the same tone.
Spock glanced up and held his gaze for a few moments, his own expression unreadable, not showing what he was searching for. Then, his gaze fell back down to the bruise. Pinching the edge of the shirt between his fingers to keep it out of the way, Spock ran his thumb along the outline of the bite bruise. There was a tiny sound of pain from Kirk as the bruise was still sore--
He was looking down at Jim as the younger captain slid himself closer, his head tilting so flesh would slide more easily into his throat, until the curve of the nose was buried in dark hair. A brief glance up would see Jim, his Jim, penetrating the younger man in a violent thrust that pushed him forward, forcing hard flesh further down his throat yet not triggering the gag reflex as it should have. A hand, slender fingered with orange veins, came into view and slid through the silken blond strands of Jim Kirk's hair as he was held in place, erection completely buried into his hot mouth. Thoughts that normally moved in their constant linear fashion had been stopped by the fever in his blood, but a single thought came forward through the heat. Mine.
Spock jerked his hand back for the second time this evening, not being able to endure the thought more than a few seconds. So strong, so vivid, his-but-not. It was another show of this other self superseding him--leaving him second to someone he couldn't possibly beat--his fingers twitched into a familiar position, his hand lifted from his neck towards his face--
Oh. Hell. No. Kirk knew this trick now. One old crafty bastard of Spock had gotten away with him being naive of what this was. One version of Spock had put a fear of another meld into his mind. The full on connection of two minds when he had no power at all over what was happening-- "NO." He growled, reaching up and grasping the Vulcan's wrist hard to stop it from coming any closer. "No." His eyes were narrowed, confused, backed by maybe the tiniest hint of fear. He had had memories poured into his mind, filling empty places up, felt grief and pain beyond his years without time to fully process it. Never again.
What about what's already happened? The bond--
Different. The bond's different. It has to be. They can't see into my mind--
He could hear me when I was talking to myself. He can, just like when--
He didn't mean to hurt me, he just--
What does it matter? Everyone else thinks he practically raped you, and you just--
He's my friend. This is different.
"No."
Spock's eyes were wide, almost--fearful--as they stared at Jim's, stared at his own fingers which were hovered over the meld-points. He tore away his wrist and took a few hurried steps back, putting about ten feet between them, and then turned his back to Jim. A few deep breaths, berating himself mentally, his lack of control, eroded every day since that. He had been distracted, unfocused, and now absolutely immoral towards a man who didn't deserve it--for what, pride? Insecurity? Was this what he had been reduced to?
"Jim," His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, softer than the last time his hands had pulled back from lethal positions. "Please. Forgive me."
Silence. Jim Kirk said nothing at all as he stared at Spock's back, trying to figure out what had just happened other then the obvious. Spock's eyes had gone glazed for a moment then suddenly movement. An attempted meld, like attempted rape of the mind. Obviously though, Spock had not been ready for it, not trying. He could almost instantly get Spock in deep, deep waters. Bones, his father... Admiral Pike.
Instead, he remained silent.
"Jim, please," Repeated again, soft but not calm, lined with fear and guilt that he could only half-stifle. He knew as well as Jim the many different people he could ask to make his life a living hell from now until they reached a starbase for a court martial. "I do not know what has come over me. I did not mean to attempt a meld. I..."
Carefully Kirk moved so his back was no longer melding with the door, but stayed in front of it. Thoughts of court martial were far from his mind. "Why?" He asked in a perhaps surprisingly gentle voice, a tilt to his head that was slight. His face was equally surprisingly devoid of what must have been going through his mind. Strange for a man who normally wore his heart on his sleeve.
Spock turned slightly, to look up at him, but all he was thinking about was how his life was, for the most part, completely ruined; he took Jim's not-anger to be further sign of his downfall. He held back his answer for a few moments, as he retreated to sit in the chair that he had occupied before. His eyes stared hard at the floor, struggling to acquire the ease of a man who knew it was over. "I suppose...that it is the only method by which I may rival my older self," Because there certainly wasn't anything else he could do, but a child in comparison: weaker, more emotional, more ignorant, without the grasp on human behavior nor the confidence to deal with it. In the strength of mind, they were more comparable, but now, it seemed he had lost that battle, too.
That made very little sense to Kirk, honestly, but he took an intuitive leap, "Spock... are you jealous of your older self?" To steal the phrase from Spock. He wanted to make sure the little bit of knowledge he had about how Spock was working at the moment was right instead of running off with it like he normally did. ...I might almost be getting responsible. Scary thought, that.
"While it is a foolish notion, it is the only one that is applicable," One arm resting on the arm rest; his hand flexed into a fist, and then relaxed again. There was nothing logical about jealousy, hardly anything ever came out of it, but he had not found himself above it, yet. Just another sign of his youth.
"...Don't ever fucking try to get in my head again, got it?" Kirk was serious for a moment, then relaxed a little. They could get through this. He walked over and around the desk, digging into a drawer. He pulled out a hypo and a pair of pills, and before Spock could stop him, hissed as he got himself with the hypo. Hated the damn things.
Spock glanced over his shoulder, always keeping him in sight (for safety reasons), and arched an eyebrow at the self-application of the hypo. He thought Jim hated those things. "Understood. Is Doctor McCoy aware that you have that medication?" Not to change the subject, but some professional concern.
"No. It's just a stimulant. Used them when I was really fucked in college." A small grin, but he lifted his eyes. You keep this quiet, I don't tell anyone what you almost did to me. Not that the two things were really comparable, but he had a feeling it would make Spock feel more even. Slowly, he was learning some things about Spock, usually taught through fear, intuition, or shock. Like when these little (non-injury inducing) slips of emotion happened, he had to take them in stride. He could not punish Spock for feeling, even if he usually had to endure the brunt of it.
Made for good between-them-only blackmail for later, too.
The most excellent foundations for a working relationship. "I see," Spock knew the implications of Jim's look and appeared to accept it; he shifted his gaze back from the other back to the floor. So, if Jim appeared to not be calling security immediately, why did he still feel as if his stripes were about to be ripped off his sleeve?
Kirk popped the two pills and swallowed them dry, pulling a face. He came back around the desk and flopped down into the chair, feeling a bit more human as the stimulant took effect. "I don't know what's going on with me and the other Spock, alright? I know he can hear me, sometimes. I can hear him, sometimes. I kind of want it to stop, and kinda don't. I know Bones is having the same thing happening to him." He was being blunt, for now.
The hand on the arm rest flexed in and out of a fist again. "It may be a variation on a bond, given what he has done with yourselves, of both universes," It did not exactly take a genius to figure out why they had to have a video feed. "I must also correct you: if the images appear as freely as they do, he can likely hear your thoughts anytime he wishes, but his remain behind mental barriers which he may open at will," Bonding with humans did sound unfair for this reason, unless they learned to mimic the techniques.
Silence, for a long moment. The other Spock could see in his head. Like, right now? "Bullshit. No, fuck no. I am not having that. How do I make it stop?" He demanded in that irrational tone of his, his eyes narrowing to slits. He could deal with a lot of things, but his head was his own. He already had one Spock in there, and shit was left behind that he still needed to deal with. He didn't need more of it without his full consent which not one of them had! He could at least deal with the reasons the eldest of the three had done the mind-meld under, even if everyone else was hating it, but... not this. Not this thing that let someone see the pretty pictures in his head all the time.
While the general annoyance was not directed at him, he figured that Jim would not appreciate his ignorance on the matter. "You will have to request him to dissolve it, as it is between you and him."
"And if he won't?" Came the immediate response. "And if he can't? What if this has something to do with the other me? I just... fuck!" He hated this. He hated these people being in his head. Why, he couldn't immediately say other than maybe because it wasn't a fair trade off.
"Then you will need to learn methods of how to control your own mind," Inside, Spock couldn't help but scoff at the possibility. He could only imagine the disarray Jim's mind was normally, how little he could possibly put up in the face of another, telepathically-stronger mind.
That made Jim's look go into a blank stare. "Well, I can fully tell how much you believe in my ability to do that." Spoken in a dry, blunt tone.
Spock glanced up at him. "I admit that I do not have the greatest confidence regarding you finding the time to master it. On the other hand, I do not doubt your ability, as you are capable of nearly anything if you only have the determination," Such as several situations which he would rather not think about, when Jim had got one over him.
The compliment made Kirk pause physically and mentally, and his gaze and smile softened, "Well, thanks." A bit unsure still how to take any personal compliment from Spock. "I guess if it comes to that, I'll deal with it then." He met the Vulcan's eyes for a long moment, and sunk back in his chair. Least he didn't feel afraid for his life anymore. ...Okay, at least for right now.
"If I may, Jim," It appeared no discipline was forthcoming, and he was still (to his disbelief), alive and First Officer. He stood from his chair. "I must return to my research."
"...Not so fast." A single finger was held up, "Sit back down. There's something we need to talk about." His face was surprisingly unreadable and not so surprisingly direct.
Fear was illogical. Especially given that the worst possibilities had just been passed over. So he had to find another word for the electricity shooting up his spine and the sudden tension in his muscles again. Cautiously, Spock returned to his seat, hand folded over fist in his lap. "Yes?"
Or at least Spock thought the worst possibilities had just passed. "So, I went down and talked to the watch officer earlier today about making sure no one enters the brig alone." He started off, watching Spock closely to see if he'd get a reaction of any sort.
He hoped that now, of all times, he would be able to conduct himself with dignity regardless of--what had happened. Spock said nothing to this, merely waiting for him to continue; his gaze met Jim's evenly, unwavering, trying to keep all of the possible emotional and physical reactions in check when he would rather bolt through the door.
"And imagine my surprise when I find out that... you were already done there." His eyes narrowed, "You know, without telling me. And dismissing the guards," He leaned forward, "And fucking with the security tapes." His tone expressed his severe displeasure at all of this. He sounded more ticked about this then the almost-meld.
Understandable. The movement was slight: his fingers curling over his fist to dig his nails into the back of his hand, but he didn't look away. "The security tapes, sir?" He didn't usually feign ignorance, especially when it came to matters such as these, but he was rather sure he had taken care of the tapes discreetly.
"You know. The ones that don't show you coming down at all, as if nothing ever happened, but at least three people can verify you were there and speaking with the prisoner." He almost stood up, teeth showing slightly, "Also, you forgot that there's a record made of each time the barrier drops to each cell." Completely calling his bullshit. Kirk was pissed off that Spock had kept this from him, and he planned to make sure he knew exactly why it fucking happened.
Oh, he knew about the records; he just thought he would have more time to worm his way into that system and scrub them appropriately. But, with three witnesses, it hardly mattered. He wasn't about to call doubt on the crew, either; he had lost enough honour in this whole debacle. He hadn't even thought about what he would tell Jim yet, and as they were rapidly approaching the part he had yet to predict, that not-fear began to tingle in his mind again. Spock said nothing; there was no point in arguing with the truth.
"So," He glanced up, "Doors, Lock, Captain's Override, James-Kirk-Six-Five-Gamma-Three-Sigma." With that lock in place, only able to be broken by the CMO's emergency medical override, he sat back. "We stay here until you tell me what the fuck went on down in the brig."
He didn't think this would be a very effective tactic, and he already knew what Jim would say in response to it, the easy logical pitfalls, but it was the only alternative between complete silence or outright revelation. "If I had learned any pertinent information from the prisoner, I would have already told you," Carefully chosen words. "It was a mistake."
"You spent just under thirty minutes in the cell, IN the cell, dammit!" Kirk's fingers gripped hard on the edge of the chair, "With a man we already knew was dangerous! I want to know what you two talked about, what he did." That tone of voice had definitely wandered into 'this is an order' territory. What was Spock keeping from him!?
Selective truth. That would be the only tool he could use in this situation, and once Jim knew he was using it, that would be the end of any resistance (as far as he knew, right now). "We talked about myself, specifically pertaining to the differences between counterpart he is familiar with, as well as the overall differences between universes," Though that had taken up so little of their time, so insignificant compared to what had happened when Spock was not talking.
Intuition was nuzzling at the back of Kirk's mind like an eager puppy, and it was telling him that there was more to it then that. He leaned forward, "And?" He said simply, urging Spock to continue. He would keep pushing the Vulcan until he knew what happened or his intuition was satisfied. Jim, do you get these weird feelings too?
Spock couldn't out-right lie to him, not after the show of mercy Jim had given him earlier, but he still hesitated. He didn't want to say this aloud--ever. He was quite content to never speak of it for the rest of his life. "That was all we discussed," Not a lie. The other things had not been conversation but orders, commands he did not wish to think about.
Discussed. Kirk's brows furrowed together, studying the seemingly calm Vulcan in front of him. "We know he didn't even have to touch Ensign Spottacus to do something to her." Implying a great deal in that statement, and he knew he was. Could that evil version of their Pike have done something to Spock that was similar?
"Fortunately, the force-field prevented that from escalating," A force-field he had taken down.
"One you didn't have up. Nothing preventing anything from happen." Challenge in his voice, in his eyes.
"Do you suspect that anything happened besides our conversation?" If not, he could waltz out of here by blaming Kirk's own fatigue-induced paranoia. If so, then. Well.
"Your words and actions are making me believe something else happened." Forcing the issue on this one. The more they talked, the more he was sure of it.
His nails were still digging into the skin on the back of his hand. Given the Vulcan epidermis, it hadn't broken with green-blooded wounds yet, but that was the only reason why. This was it, wasn't it? He'd never leave this room alive. "I melded with him," And he wasn't sure which revolted him more, the meld or what had happened directly after.
Kirk jerked a little, his eyes going wide. This was not what he had been expecting. He understood, after speaking with at least the two older Spocks, how intimate a mind-meld was. He knew from experience nearly as much, but now he had more understanding of what he had felt. His lips were parted, staring at Spock in a near-horror look. He worked his throat, swallowed, then tried again, "You did WHAT?" It couldn't be true. Spock wouldn't do that. He wasn't that stupid!
At this, he had to look away to the floor again. "Do not make me repeat myself, Jim. It is the only possible method to extract information from him--or it would be, if I had but the skill to manage it."
"You went into the cell with him, touched him, he still has those gloves!, and melded with him." When the hell did he stand up? Kirk wasn't sure but he was angry as hell. "You didn't even let us TRY any other method! You just went ahead and did what was right and he could have KILLED YOU!" His rant ended in a bellow, thank god the walls were soundproof. Okay, maybe that wasn't all anger. Definitely worry was in there.
For the briefest moment, Spock almost wished that he had; it would have simplified matters, as with his death they'd have reason for execution, and that would get rid of the problem easily. None of this humanitarian temporal alterations. "I requested that he remove his gloves before I stepped within range," His voice felt small, distant, and impossibly quiet against Jim's shouts.
"...you requested-" He sputtered, then turned partly away so he could collect his thoughts. It took a second for him to realize that if Spock had requested the man to remove his gloves, then got close enough to do the mind-meld, that Pher had removed his gloves. He had listened to Spock and disarmed himself so to speak. A slow, shaking breath. "Alright." His voice was very tight when he spoke, "What happened with the meld?"
The difficulty in this lay more in the fact that Jim did not understand the nuances of doing a mind meld, of unfolding the layers of somebody's mind until you came upon what you wanted. So he simplified the complex process. "He knew what I was attempting to do, and he constructed the appropriate barriers to prevent my progress."
"You said you talked with him about your counterpart, meaning he's dealt with a Spock before. One he knows can do melds. How did--" Stop. "Did you talk about the other universe... before or after the meld?" Suspicious eyes were turned on Spock.
He did not look up at him. "It was a point of conversation on either side of the meld."
"Dammit, Spock! What the hell?! I thought you were smarter then this and I hear you're going around, melding with prisoners... not that I care about how he felt about the whole thing but you could have been hurt!" He didn't know the full extent of 'hurt' and what it could be, but he had an inkling. Kirk suddenly stepped forward and leaned in close, his eyes narrowed, "What did he do during that meld? What defenses did he have?" His voice was very quiet. "How do I know this isn't some influence of his, that you wanted to come in here and strangle me for something I couldn't control?"
He leaned back in his chair, away from him; the bubble he had suffocated Jim with earlier against the door was now being used against him. "I am not certain whether it is, or not, but I am not strangling you at the moment," Spock noted. He had at least lasted this long without seeing the man again, without suffering as that ensign had. "His defenses were Starfleet standards, at first. You should be familiar with the concept of using passages as a mental distraction."
That made Kirk's lips quirk for just a second, "Tyger! Tyger! burning bright / In the forests of the night, / What immortal hand or eye / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?" He had chosen a few very choice poems as what he had memorized. They had put him through some nasty tests to prove it had stuck. "All of us on the command track had to do it." So that was to start with, "What came afterwards?"
To this question, he was silent for a few moments. His hands withdrew from their over-under grip to the arm rests; one of them had deep gouges on the back. "He pulled me into a memory of himself and my mirror counterpart," This man had known about the meld, but not only that, knew how to work within it, especially to his advantage.
Kirk's fingers gripped tightly to each other. This was getting worse by the second, and things were starting to click. The only real reason Spock would have to completely hide such things would be for the same reason he schooled his face into near blankness - to hide emotions. "...What memory, Spock?" He kept his voice almost quiet, still very much inside of Spock's bubble-space, focused entirely on the Vulcan's face and eyes.
Spock's eyes flickered from one side of Jim to the other, but still didn't rise to meet his gaze. What was he going to say? He couldn't tell him about the explicit details of it, that initiation onto the Enterprise constituted a beating and more instead of a smiling captain and a guided tour. What was the essence of it, what could he tell him without having to relive through the whole thing over again--"Sexual relations."
A lot of things clicked into place with the sureness of a lock popping open. Kirk stared at Spock for a long moment, trying to get his head wrapped around all of this. Spock had gone into that bastard's mind who had been ready for him. Surely Pher knew about mind-melds, and if Uhura was right and the Vulcans had been the 'Terran Empire's enemies, and considering what they had just been speaking about two seconds ago... Their commands are trained not just for physical torture, but how to deal with mental torture like a mind-meld. Holy fuck. That was important. He had to make sure Ambassader Spock, Sarek, and Pike knew about that before they went down to talk to Pher.
On top of that... it was basically like rape. Pher had shown Spock a memory, and if it was anything like the mental connection he had felt when the older Spock had merely touched him, it would have been full blown with feelings and emotions and imagery, of Spock's counterpart and him having relations. Fucking. Oh. Shit. "...Spock..." He said the name quietly, almost stunned. He just couldn't find words to complete the questions in his mind.
"I withdrew, then, of course," But he hadn't withdrawn before the lust and everything else associated had hit him, before the control had intoxicated his mind. He took a breath, as if to say more, but didn't. From Jim's own experiences it would be easy enough to figure out how disorienting the memory would have been, and what could have progressed now that Spock had been dazed, alone in the presence of a man with no morals and historical lust.
"What did he do?" Spock would have been incapacitated. A memory that strong... he could remember the meld breaking free in the ice cave, how the entire world had rocked and for a minute or two or three he had been unable to fully focus on anything except what Spock was telling him. He had stumbled after the old Vulcan, letting the annoyingly long walk to the station get his mind back into some semblance of working order. Spock, on an easy guess, would have been the same. Pher would have been able to do anything he wanted for that short amount of time. Influence, touch, kill. Anything.
"I would rather not say," Which said everything.
He was right. Pher had done something to Spock, something that had scared the Vulcan into not only silence, but into doing things that were court-martial material to cover it up. "Spock, look at me." Kirk said, his tone almost scared for Spock. Shit, shit. Had Pher affected Spock's mind? Was he dealing with Spock having been assaulted in some way? This is something they don't teach you enough of in the academy! Shit, Jim, I suddenly wish I had your experience but I don't think even that is enough to deal with this!
When Spock finally looked up at him, his expression was, as expected, almost completely blank. Whatever he was feeling--too much, in his opinion--he was stuffing it down, even as it was coming up in conversation. He would not allow himself to get humiliated for a second time, especially in front of the man that actually was his Captain.
A hand dropped down onto Spock's self-injured one, squeezing lightly in a very human gesture, "...fuck, look... We're not close, not by any long shot, but you're still my first officer. I'm not going to ask you specifics, okay? I have a pretty good feeling that you're supressing everything because evidently that's what all good Vulcan do until they strangle their Captain." He didn't know how to deal with this. He really didn't. So he was going at it the only way he could, which was by his not-always-great-instincts. "...Go... go talk to Uhura. Someone you can trust. One of your other selves or something. I dunno, fuck." He slid his other hand through his hair, realizing there was little he could do. All of this probably was just pissing Spock off. He stepped back from the other, looking to Spock. No pity, just concern.
"I do not wish to dwell on the past, nor to involve other people in this matter," There was a small bit of resentment towards Jim, for bringing it up and thus cementing the fact it had actually happened, but the rest of it was analyzing his concern, his gestures, his advice.
Kirk let out a sigh, trying to think of anything else at all. He looked to the side for a moment, then quietly said, "...Alright, Spock. Go get some sleep. Long day tomorrow, I have a feeling." The stimulant was kicking in his blood, and he wanted to get what he needed to before he went back to Bones' room. He didn't really want to deal with anything there other then curling up and going to sleep. He looked towards the door in a vague way, "Captain's Override, Door, Unlock, James-Kirk-Sigma-Alpha-Seven-Zero-Two."
Spock looked at him, studied him for a few more moments, before he simply nodded, stood, and left. He wanted to say thank you, for postponing the end of his career until a later date, for not chastising him for seeing the prisoner in quite the manner he expected--but he didn't have the energy for it, unless he wanted something else to slip through.
Kirk just remained in his seat, staring at nothing in particular. He finally let out a sigh, hauling his bones up out of the chair, and went to sit back behind the desk. No rest for the weary, no rest for the wicked. He thumbed a padd over closer to him, stared blankly at it before shaking his head. How do you deal with a Vulcan who has mental trauma? He doesn't trust me, and I have no idea how much he's talking to Uhura... Something caught his eye and he turned his hand over.
The palm was smeared with green blood.