So it seemed Romulans were as warm as Vulcans. Kirk could only vaguely remember that, remember hands locked around his throat, burning hot and stealing his breath away. He turned his head, just enough to stare at their interlaced hands, staring at his bent-back wrist.
It should have hurt more then it did.
He had a feeling that wasn't going to be a problem in a moment.
Words spilled from his mouth without any connection to his brain, "So, does Ugly over there... even use lube before he fucks ya? Or does he do it dry?"
His mouth fell open. He heard his jaw click, heard it snap shut on a snarl. He clenched tighter and realized he was seeing green.
"You," he growled, and it was all he could say for a moment. Something was wrong with Kirk's hand, or with his grip. His mouth was dry, suddenly.
The outermost finger, the smallest one. It was reed-thin and delicate and it twitched, just slightly, when he stroked it, hooking over it with his own.
Ayel twisted down hard and it gave with a crackle.
"You'll find out," he promised through grit teeth.
Words died and choked in Kirk's throat at the pain. His fingers twitched violently in the heavy grasp and he bit back a cry of pain literally. His teeth dug hard into the soft flesh of his lower lip, eyes squeezing shut. He wouldn't give this fucker the satisfaction of hearing him scream.
After several moments, shaking very slightly, his head lifted. The defiance was still there, dark and burning. Not going to give in. One very solid thought in a very not solid world.
It would be so easy to do it again, just to get that scream. It was there, right there under the skin--he saw Kirk swallow it, and he wanted it and it would have it, one way or another.
No. He wasn't a monster. Not yet. Romulus hadn't done it. Kelvin hadn't done it. Not even that place had broken him down.
Ayel blinked and tilted Kirk's palm, adjusting his grip to trap the ring finger. He did have strong hands. Cool and sleek and dry--he was hurting, that was obvious in the way his eyes screwed shut, his teeth dragging red lines from his lower lip. But his hands were dry; Kirk was fearless or a bit feverish for a human, or both. It was probably both. That stuff brought evil dreams, awake or asleep.
Ayel leaned in and lowered his voice. "We don't have to do this." Not quite realizing he was even doing it, he stroked Kirk's palm as he slowly brought the ring finger back. Enough pressure to threaten, but only just. "Give me the codes."
The flavor of liquid iron on the air was sharp, sudden. It reached Nero in the shade behind the lights, cut through him with the force of Kirk's self-imposed silence. His hands appeared before him and he glanced past them. He could see Ayel, hear the low pitch in his voice as he curled over the bound man, and he cocked his head to the side. His ear was bleeding, a light trickle of warmth and green down his face and jacket. As he focused, he knew it, as surely as this was a memory of Ayel. Ael.
He stepped into the light, a shadow across Ayel's back, and watched with careful, calculating eyes. "The codes," he repeated, his voice free from meandering thought. The fuchsia lights were hot and loud, he would fall into them again if this did not end.
Oh, definitely both. The sedatives were causing reactions in his system that his medical file screamed about, and well, even this, he refused to be afraid. His lips parted as he panted, knowing what was coming. Maybe in the end he'd have all of his fingers broken. Maybe they would stop. Probably wouldn't.
The world had reduced down to what he was staring at - their hands touching, linked together. Now it was a waiting game, waiting for the snap, waiting for the pain that would follow.
Then, another voice.
Kirk slowly turned his head, blue eyes lifting and focusing on Nero. They looked so different, the two Romulans... but they were blurring together in light and shadow. All pink and orange and black... "Does... Do... you give Ayel... the reach around?" The easiest thought of all. Bones would have recognized it where no one else would have. The mask, the mask that fooled so many, and here had been turned into a protective shield for his mind.
Kirk's eyes were liquid, swimming behind glass and shade. Nero watched him with a keen interest and cocked his head to the side as time slipped beside him.
"Hllue thlem."
The words were stable but weary when Nero heard them. He wasn't sure if they fell from his lips that way, or if the lights had drained them of meaning. His hand grazed Ayel as he turned away, his fingers sliding across the man's shoulder with phantom pressure.
Nero was staring at the back wall, eyes unfocused and lids draped as heavily as the coat across his shoulders. He felt the snap against his back, the twist and crack of fragile bone. His coat smelled green...his fingers and legs were cold, wet, and the hissing of the vents had a phantom catch. He couldn't hear as he stared at the blackness, withdrawn beyond the fuchsia. Beneath it.
It was Eihva's birthing day.
He clutched his fingers and he could feel her femur in his hand, the cold crawl of her flesh across the back of his arm, dripping from his coat. His fury swirled incoherently with sorrow and he scowled, twisting his head to listen over his shoulder.
The difficult language was beyond him, for now. So for now, he stared at Ayel. His eyes swept the delicate tattoos, up to pointed ears, down slanted eyebrows to dark and hating eyes. His father had passed out from what he thought he knew, unknowningly to Kirk going to a place beyond this death and darkness. Kirk had never liked 'rank, name, serial number' though of course he knew it, had it beaten into his skull.
There were other things he preferred to do to be stubborn as fuck and not given the enemy what they wanted, particularly when he had to protect someone else's life in the process.
So he met Ayel's eyes, "Why are you so... hypocritical, huh?" He asked, voice thick with dryness and drugs.
The word struck deep, but it never showed on his face. Kirk didn't understand. Couldn't. Not until Earth burned, boiled inward on its core and vanished.
And now it wouldn't happen. Decalithium was rare, even in his own time, and processing it was entirely beyond him. Thaliij--their geochemist, brilliant and large as life with a laugh like a landslide--he had barely been able to keep the mixture stable, even with the self-evolving pattern matrix Ayel had written into the stasis fields.
And Thaliij was gone. There would be no more red matter. But Kirk didn't know--didn't realize that when Nero said crew, he meant the whole crew. Everyone.
He would probably laugh if he did know it.
"Why--" Ayel gritted, his mouth was so dry, it made no sense, "why so stubborn, James?" That finger between his was bloodless from the pressure. "Tell me. The code."
Fire stabbed down his hand as he turned bone backward with a crisp snap. His vision burned white and he sucked in a breath, jolted, confused.
Kirk's throat jumped, choking on a cry that threatened to ring out. His vision flared white, bright and hot, and settled into agony in his hand. His breath came out in fast pants, his mind screaming, tiny tears at the corners of his eyes that he refused to shed. The sedative was being burned off at a fantastic rate with adrenaline to speed up the whole process.
"You--" It came out as a ragged sound through gritted teeth. He had lived with worse pain. He could deal with it. He had to. Had to survive. "You hate-- Federation... for failing." Every word felt like a drop of blood falling from his lips until he realized he had bit so hard into his own lip it was indeed bleeding, trickling down his chest, splashing bright on the wound on his chest.
"Could s-.. save Romulus..." That much he knew. He knew from Prime's memories grieflovelosshurtguiltfailure. "Inste..ad... here. Too caught in... hatred, revenge. No more honor."
Nero took a hard breath--the air coalesced inside him, solid and immovable. It refused to be expelled as his lungs beat against the interior of his ribs. His jaw locked, teeth grinding down as though they were clenched around the hevam's juggular. Fingers twisted and bit into the flesh of his palms, dull physical pain that compounded as his lungs and throat burned with fury.
This kllhe, this little insignificant creature, questioned his honor? Thought he hadn't tried? It sounded so simple--so easy. As if celestial physics were the same as breaking his bones. As if Nero could will red-matter into the event horizon of Hobus. Even in their home, so much brighter, newer, keener than now--even the Thaessu minds could not manage it.
His vision bled black, swirling away the color light and sending him back into his skull. He drew a hitch of air through his nose, tight and sharp, and his chest rattled soundlessly with his fury. He teeth slid, rending Kirk's flesh, and his lips slid back across them.
A breath pressed thick through his teeth, gritted together to keep them from chattering as his mind processed the pain. No Bones here to help him, no promise of even help coming. The longer this took, the faster the sedative burned away, the more clearly he could think.
They would have no way of knowing who it was that had taken him and George. No way of knowing another terrible figure had risen from death like Lazarus hell bent on revenge. The mirror people could have done it. They could have vanished into another universe like people appearing here.
Help might never come. He had to hang on, to wait for a slip up, and kill Nero again to be able to live through this. He was sure of that.
"Nothing... left in your head but... madness." Kirk growled out, staring at Nero. "Just... an animal."
The word appeared before him, low, threatening, and disturbingly honest. It evanesced into the light, fading into curling fuchsia and the light sound of the breeze off Ra'tleihfi. The echo faded and left him alone, with pain cloying at his limbs and the pulling numbness of the past beating down against his neck.
"Does that comfort you?" Nero's voice is low, even, rolling like thick liquid over metal. He doesn't need to turn to Ayel, or to Kirk, and his fists clench tighter at his sides. He can feel the welts, damp and symmetrical. "Koemae. Stev."
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It should have hurt more then it did.
He had a feeling that wasn't going to be a problem in a moment.
Words spilled from his mouth without any connection to his brain, "So, does Ugly over there... even use lube before he fucks ya? Or does he do it dry?"
Reply
"You," he growled, and it was all he could say for a moment. Something was wrong with Kirk's hand, or with his grip. His mouth was dry, suddenly.
The outermost finger, the smallest one. It was reed-thin and delicate and it twitched, just slightly, when he stroked it, hooking over it with his own.
Ayel twisted down hard and it gave with a crackle.
"You'll find out," he promised through grit teeth.
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After several moments, shaking very slightly, his head lifted. The defiance was still there, dark and burning. Not going to give in. One very solid thought in a very not solid world.
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No. He wasn't a monster. Not yet. Romulus hadn't done it. Kelvin hadn't done it. Not even that place had broken him down.
Ayel blinked and tilted Kirk's palm, adjusting his grip to trap the ring finger. He did have strong hands. Cool and sleek and dry--he was hurting, that was obvious in the way his eyes screwed shut, his teeth dragging red lines from his lower lip. But his hands were dry; Kirk was fearless or a bit feverish for a human, or both. It was probably both. That stuff brought evil dreams, awake or asleep.
Ayel leaned in and lowered his voice. "We don't have to do this." Not quite realizing he was even doing it, he stroked Kirk's palm as he slowly brought the ring finger back. Enough pressure to threaten, but only just. "Give me the codes."
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He stepped into the light, a shadow across Ayel's back, and watched with careful, calculating eyes. "The codes," he repeated, his voice free from meandering thought. The fuchsia lights were hot and loud, he would fall into them again if this did not end.
Reply
The world had reduced down to what he was staring at - their hands touching, linked together. Now it was a waiting game, waiting for the snap, waiting for the pain that would follow.
Then, another voice.
Kirk slowly turned his head, blue eyes lifting and focusing on Nero. They looked so different, the two Romulans... but they were blurring together in light and shadow. All pink and orange and black... "Does... Do... you give Ayel... the reach around?" The easiest thought of all. Bones would have recognized it where no one else would have. The mask, the mask that fooled so many, and here had been turned into a protective shield for his mind.
Reply
"Hllue thlem."
The words were stable but weary when Nero heard them. He wasn't sure if they fell from his lips that way, or if the lights had drained them of meaning. His hand grazed Ayel as he turned away, his fingers sliding across the man's shoulder with phantom pressure.
(Hllue thelm. - Break him.)
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What did it take? Ayel gritted his teeth on a shout of frustration. He was in control here. He was.
His fingers were sore, and they shouldn't be, and Kirk just would not stop talking, but only about the wrong things.
"Hllue thlem." Nero's orders fell like lead, his touch hollow as mist.
Ayel frowned and hid it in a sneer, his hand clawing into Kirk's.
"Ie, rekkhai."
After all, their distinguished guest had nine fingers more.
For starters.
(Hllue thlem - break him; ie, rekkhai - Yes, sir.)
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It was Eihva's birthing day.
He clutched his fingers and he could feel her femur in his hand, the cold crawl of her flesh across the back of his arm, dripping from his coat. His fury swirled incoherently with sorrow and he scowled, twisting his head to listen over his shoulder.
Reply
There were other things he preferred to do to be stubborn as fuck and not given the enemy what they wanted, particularly when he had to protect someone else's life in the process.
So he met Ayel's eyes, "Why are you so... hypocritical, huh?" He asked, voice thick with dryness and drugs.
Reply
And now it wouldn't happen. Decalithium was rare, even in his own time, and processing it was entirely beyond him. Thaliij--their geochemist, brilliant and large as life with a laugh like a landslide--he had barely been able to keep the mixture stable, even with the self-evolving pattern matrix Ayel had written into the stasis fields.
And Thaliij was gone. There would be no more red matter. But Kirk didn't know--didn't realize that when Nero said crew, he meant the whole crew. Everyone.
He would probably laugh if he did know it.
"Why--" Ayel gritted, his mouth was so dry, it made no sense, "why so stubborn, James?" That finger between his was bloodless from the pressure. "Tell me. The code."
Fire stabbed down his hand as he turned bone backward with a crisp snap. His vision burned white and he sucked in a breath, jolted, confused.
...Hypocrite.He wondered what Eivha would ( ... )
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"You--" It came out as a ragged sound through gritted teeth. He had lived with worse pain. He could deal with it. He had to. Had to survive. "You hate-- Federation... for failing." Every word felt like a drop of blood falling from his lips until he realized he had bit so hard into his own lip it was indeed bleeding, trickling down his chest, splashing bright on the wound on his chest.
"Could s-.. save Romulus..." That much he knew. He knew from Prime's memories grieflovelosshurtguiltfailure. "Inste..ad... here. Too caught in... hatred, revenge. No more honor."
Reply
This kllhe, this little insignificant creature, questioned his honor? Thought he hadn't tried? It sounded so simple--so easy. As if celestial physics were the same as breaking his bones. As if Nero could will red-matter into the event horizon of Hobus. Even in their home, so much brighter, newer, keener than now--even the Thaessu minds could not manage it.
His vision bled black, swirling away the color light and sending him back into his skull. He drew a hitch of air through his nose, tight and sharp, and his chest rattled soundlessly with his fury. He teeth slid, rending Kirk's flesh, and his lips slid back across them.
No.
"I don't think you understand, ( ... )
Reply
They would have no way of knowing who it was that had taken him and George. No way of knowing another terrible figure had risen from death like Lazarus hell bent on revenge. The mirror people could have done it. They could have vanished into another universe like people appearing here.
Help might never come. He had to hang on, to wait for a slip up, and kill Nero again to be able to live through this. He was sure of that.
"Nothing... left in your head but... madness." Kirk growled out, staring at Nero. "Just... an animal."
Reply
The word appeared before him, low, threatening, and disturbingly honest. It evanesced into the light, fading into curling fuchsia and the light sound of the breeze off Ra'tleihfi. The echo faded and left him alone, with pain cloying at his limbs and the pulling numbness of the past beating down against his neck.
"Does that comfort you?" Nero's voice is low, even, rolling like thick liquid over metal. He doesn't need to turn to Ayel, or to Kirk, and his fists clench tighter at his sides. He can feel the welts, damp and symmetrical. "Koemae. Stev."
Reply
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