DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2003 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Mazes of a Nightmare
by Djinn
Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the mazes of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason. - Octavio Paz
"I think that went
well." Kirk leaned back in his
chair, watching the delegates file out.
"Indeed." Commander Larkins rubbed at his back. "The trade agreement is safely
secured." He tapped the pile of
padds. "And Command will be quite
pleased with our little outpost's efforts today, I think. Thank you for being willing to run the dog
and pony show. Seeing the Enterprise up
close and personal may well have clinched the deal. Although our diplomatic 'specialists' might
argue they had the greater role."
"Whatever part we played
is fine. I was in the neighborhood and
Command was all for it."
Larkins smiled. "I imagine this isn't the kind of
mission you most enjoy? After all the adventure
you've seen, a little diplomatic exercise like this must seem frightfully
dull?"
Kirk grinned. "Every victory matters. Even the smaller ones."
"You could be a diplomat
yourself, Captain. Always the charming
answer."
"Just the truth,"
Kirk said with a shrug.
"Well, I'm happy being
an administrator. On such a beautiful
world, how can I complain? You should
see some of the city."
"No time, I'm
afraid." He saw Larkins rub his
back again and frowned. "You all
right?"
"No. I threw my back out the other day. Damned fool stunt. I still think I'm a twenty-year old."
Kirk grinned. "I have those moments too." He sighed.
"I'm glad I'm not twenty anymore."
Larkins nodded. "Made some bad decisions in those
days. Not that my back thinks I've
matured much." He laughed, then
grimaced as the action seemed to cause him pain.
Kirk pulled out his
communicator. "Kirk to
Enterprise."
"Enterprise here,
sir," Uhura answered.
"The talks have
concluded. Prepare to leave orbit when I
return."
"Aye-aye, sir."
Larkins started to get up
then grimaced again. Kirk motioned him
back into his chair.
"Uhura, patch me through
to sickbay."
"McCoy here."
"Bones, we've got an
overly energetic commander whose back is in dire need of a check-up, if you or
someone on your staff is free?" He
grinned at Larkins, who made a sheepish face.
"I'll send Chapel. I'm still running final diagnostics on the
surgical unit--we upgraded it."
There was a pause, then McCoy came back on. "The engineers are here, I've got to go,
Jim. You know they'll screw things up in
no time without supervision."
"Very good. Kirk out." He smiled.
McCoy was probably driving the engineers nuts. But he wasn't the only one. Seemed like everyone was using the enforced
downtime to get their stations upgraded and back at one hundred percent
operating efficiency. Spock probably had
his up to one hundred and fifty.
"You didn't have to do
that, sir."
"You've been an
excellent host, Commander. It's the
least I can do."
"Enterprise to Captain
Kirk."
"Kirk here."
"One to beam down,
sir."
"Go ahead."
There was a shimmer, then
Chapel appeared. "Someone's in need
of medical assistance?" She smiled
gently, the way she always did.
Kirk saw Larkins eying her
with interest. Too bad they weren't
staying longer. It would probably do her
good to have a little fun.
"Commander Larkins threw
his back out. I thought you might be
able to help."
She walked over to Larkins,
scanned his back. "You've got a bad
muscle pull. Does it hurt right
here?" She gently probed his lower
back.
Larkins winced. "Quite a lot."
"I'll fix it in a
moment. But while I'm here, let's check
you out thoroughly." She began to
scan the rest of him. "You need to
eat more vegetables, sir."
Kirk laughed. She gave him the very same lecture every time
he had a fitness physical. "If you
don't mind, Nurse, I'll leave you to it.
I'd love to see some of this city before we warp out of here."
"Enjoy yourself,
sir. I'll comm you when I'm
done." She didn't look up from her
scans.
And Larkins didn't stop
watching her.
Kirk smiled and let himself
out. He nodded to the lieutenant on
duty, then strolled out of the Starfleet offices, into the hustle and bustle of
Cacetor's busy streets.
Evindahr was a neutral world,
and its capital city was a natural place for diplomatic, defense, and trade
meetings. Starfleet wasn't the only
military with representation there. The
planet itself was lush and beautiful, and Kirk let himself relax for the first
time in three days. There had been a lot
riding on this trade agreement, and he knew that Starfleet had wanted it more
avidly than normal. He was just glad
he'd been able to help Larkins deliver.
Kirk wandered the city
happily; an hour went by, then two. He began
to wonder what was keeping Chapel.
He looked ahead, saw that
something was blocking the street.
Several people were standing and waiting for the blockage to be
moved. He saw the man ahead of him duck
into an alley, never breaking stride, his cloak billowing out behind him. Kirk decided to take the same shortcut, and
followed him in.
When he entered the alley,
the man was gone.
Kirk stopped, his hand
reaching for a phaser that wasn't there, hadn't been there ever since he began
the negotiations. He reached for his
communicator, but before he could call the Enterprise, he felt the tug of a
transporter beam, and then the alley disappeared.
He materialized in a stone
cell. "What the
devil...?" He grabbed for his
communicator, realized it was gone.
He saw someone standing at
the door to the cell, face covered by the hood of a cloak. The man from the alley. Then he heard a low groan behind him.
He turned. Chapel lay on the dirt floor, near the corner
of the cell. She slowly sat up, rubbing at
her head.
She saw him, said softly,
"Sir?"
He turned back to the
door. "What's the meaning of
this?"
The man pushed his hood back,
revealing his face.
"Larkins?"
"I'm afraid Commander
Larkins has been permanently detained."
The man began to work at a spot just under his ear. A moment later he pulled and a mask of
Larkin's face came off.
Kirk stepped forward, studied
the man's true face. He was a
stranger. "Do I know you?"
"It was a long time ago,
Kirk." The man smiled. It was an unsettling expression. "I'll let you think on it." He turned and left them alone.
Kirk hurried over to Chapel,
helped her up. "What
happened?"
She was gingerly exploring
her scalp. "I had just finished up,
was doing a final scan when I noticed something odd in the readings." She grimaced.
"I looked away from him for a second and he hit me."
Kirk turned away, paced to
the door of the cell, then back again.
"Sir, do you know
him?"
Kirk shook his head slowly as
he racked his brain for who the man might be.
"He seemed to think you
should."
"I know."
She sat down on the dirt and
leaned against the wall of the cell. He
noticed that her nylons were torn, a long run ripping up her leg as she tried
to get comfortable. She seemed to realize
he was staring at her leg, looked down and ran her finger up the run, then
pulled her skirt down a bit.
"I'm not scared,"
she said quietly. She looked up at him,
her eyes calm.
"Of course
not." He tried to smile
reassuringly. Even though he thought she
probably should be afraid. He turned and
looked out the door. He was glad she
hadn't come over to stand by him, hadn't seen the room beyond their cell door. A room that looked as if it had been set up
for one thing only.
Torture.
-------------------------
"I trust you've had
ample time to think?" Not-Larkins said from the doorway. Chapel noticed that he'd dropped the British
accent he'd used as Larkins.
Kirk walked to the door,
seemed to study the man. She debated
getting up, decided not to, just watched the two men. Not-Larkins was standing so still he seemed a
statue. Kirk stood equally straight, but
she knew he was using the moment to try to figure out who this man was.
"This is so
disappointing, Kirk." The man
pulled out a weapon of some sort.
"Here I've waited all this time for revenge and you don't even
remember me?" He held the weapon
up. "Back away from the door."
Kirk didn't move.
The man shifted the weapon to
point at Chapel. "I'd prefer to
have her here, but we don't have to."
Kirk backed away from the
door.
The man tossed a pair of
restraints at Chapel. They fell near her
feet. "Put those on your captain,
my dear. Hands behind his back."
She didn't move. Looked up at Kirk, saw him move his head in
some sort of message, a message she wasn't sure meant 'do it' or 'don't do
it.'
Not-Larkins sighed. Then he made an adjustment to the weapon and
fired at Kirk.
The captain writhed in agony
as the beam caught him, the bolt seeming to hold him upright even as he moved
in reaction to the pain. Finally,
Not-Larkins released the trigger and Kirk fell to the ground, hitting the dirt
hard. He let out a grunt as he fell, did
not try to break the impact in any way.
He lay silently, not moving.
She crawled over to him.
"Now, Nurse Chapel, do I
need to repeat my instructions?"
She reached back for the
restraints, secured Kirk's arms behind his back. "I'm sorry, sir," she whispered.
Kirk didn't seem to hear her.
"Good. Now come here."
She walked to him
slowly. Her attention was drawn to his
left, and she stared for a moment, trying to take in what she was seeing. She swallowed hard, her vision swimming. There were shackles on the wall; strange
tables and instruments were the only things in the room. It occurred to her that a person standing at
the cell door would have an excellent view of whoever was in the shackles.
She didn't meet his eyes,
didn't want him to see how unnerved she was.
"Turn around." His voice was almost gentle. His hands were careful as he secured her
hands behind her back. "Now face
me."
She turned slowly.
"Look at me."
She tried to channel Spock,
his ability to not show one iota of what he was feeling or thinking as she
looked up at their captor.
He stroked her cheek
gently. "Such a sweet face. It was a lucky thing you were the one who
beamed down. It will make this so much
more interesting."
She pulled away and he let
her go. "When your valiant captain
is himself again, tell him the name that's eluding him is Alesson."
She watched him walk away,
then went to clumsily kneel by Kirk, helpless to do anything for him except be
there while he recovered.
----------------------------
Kirk struggled to sit up, a
haze of pain still surrounding him.
"You're in restraints,
sir. And you may be in shock. Take it slow."
He wondered why Chapel didn't
help him, then realized she must be in restraints as well.
He forced himself to move
carefully, deliberately. Just sitting up
was more of a struggle than he wanted to admit.
His head swam once he made it, and he felt a wave of nausea come over
him. He tried to fight it, but lost the
battle, turning away from her and throwing up over and over, until there was
nothing but bile left.
He stayed bent over,
unwilling to look at her, afraid that his eyes would betray how helpless he
felt at this moment. As long as he
didn't see that reflected back in her face, it wouldn't be true.
"He said his name was
Alesson."
Kirk closed his eyes. It had been years since he'd heard that name,
or even thought about the man. Years and
a thousand decisions ago. Decisions that
had not gone as terribly as that one had.
"Who is he?" Chapel
asked.
How could it be Alesson? He was dead.
Had died in the fire that had roared through the camp. Died along with his followers and their wives
and children. "He's dead."
"Not quite, as you can
see for yourself, Kirk." Alesson
was standing at the door.
Kirk wondered how much he had
seen, then realized that the man probably had surveillance of some sort in
their cell. No doubt he could see and
hear them any time he wished.
"Your face." Kirk forced himself to keep his head up
despite how it set the world spinning.
He tried to focus on the man's features.
Add ten years, factor in some burn therapy. Could it be Alesson?
The man stared back at him
calmly. His eyes--a deep dark
green--seemed to shine in the low light.
They were very much like Alesson's strange emerald eyes. And he was the right height and build.
Kirk closed his eyes. Willing to accept. "I thought you died in the fire."
"You mean you hoped that
I did," Alesson said with a smile.
Kirk could finally see the
man he'd hunted for so many weeks.
"Ah, recognition at
last." Alesson pulled out a small controller
of some sort, keyed something in.
There was a whining sound,
like a transporter, then a low trough of water appeared near the front of the
cell.
"I imagine you are
thirsty."
Kirk didn't move. He looked over at Chapel. She sat motionless, watching Alesson.
"Eventually, you'll get
thirsty enough to drink." Alesson
laughed, a low, mean sound. "Like
the animal you will become by the time I tire of having you as my unwilling
guest." He looked over at
Chapel. "I'm sorry to force you
into the same humiliation, my dear. But
I know you'd help him if you had your hands free. And I can't have that."
He put the controller into
his pocket. Reached into another pocket
and dug out some rolls. He tossed them
into the cell. They lay on the dirt,
looked old, hard.
"Not the freshest, but
then what did you expect? Gourmet
meals?" Alesson tapped the bars, a
strange smile playing at his mouth.
"I'm so looking forward to this."
He laughed again, then left
them. His footsteps reverberated through
the room, then the door slammed shut and there was silence.
"Sir, you need to
drink. We both do."
"Like a dog?"
"Is there another
way?" Her voice was mildly
sarcastic and he shot her a look. She
took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. But not drinking will do neither of us any
good. Water is imperative to
survival. And to healing." She struggled to her feet, walked over to the
trough and knelt down, bending low to taste the water. "It's relatively fresh at least,"
she said, looking over at him. "Sir. Please?"
When he did not move, she
sighed, then bent to drink. He watched
her, almost wishing that he could bend as easily as she did.
He shifted as much as the
restraints allowed, was glad he had relieved himself earlier. They had each turned away while the other had
used the far corner of the cell as a makeshift lavatory. If he drank water now, he'd just have to go
again. And he imagined Alesson wanted
that. Wanted them losing control enough
to soil their clothing. To lose their
dignity.
"Who is he?" Chapel was inspecting the roll. She grimaced, turned away from it and moved
closer to him.
"A criminal." Kirk looked down. It had never been that simple. Alesson had been a freedom fighter. He had just chosen the wrong government to
fight against--he and his people, and their women and small children.
He sighed. "It was a long time ago. We were sent to find him after he fled off
his own world. He was an insurgent. Had quite a following."
"He was violent?"
Kirk nodded. Violent, obsessed with changing the status
quo. Sure that the government of his
planet--the government that had allied itself with the Federation--was evil. Alesson had been a fanatic and a killer, but
even so the Federation representatives had tried to make peace, to find common
ground with him.
It was only when Alesson had
murdered the representatives and left them strung up in the town square that
the Federation leadership had lost its patience and had sent Starfleet in to
deal with him. Kirk had been the one to
lead the hunt.
"There was a fire?"
Chapel asked, wrenching him back to the present.
"We had him
cornered. Thought he'd give up, for the
sake of the families. But he
didn't. The fire--they had weapons,
ammunition, even explosives. It was a
powderkeg."
"And you were the
spark." She sighed. "You thought he died?"
Kirk nodded.
"He didn't." She shot him a wry grin.
"No. He didn't." He looked at her, searching her face for what
she was feeling. "I don't think
he'll hurt you."
"We don't know
that." Then she shrugged. "We don't know that he plans to hurt you
either."
He laughed, the sound of air
being quickly expelled louder than he intended.
"Oh, I think it's safe to say, we do." He nodded out toward the main room. "Why else would he have the torture
chamber ready?"
She looked down. Didn't argue.
He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
------------------------
Chapel watched Kirk, worried
that he had still not drunk any water. He
needed the water, was still in shock from the weapon Alesson had used on
him. But trying to convince him to drink
would be a wasted effort and she knew it.
She shifted, attempting to
get comfortable, almost wished she hadn't drunk any water. She had to go to the bathroom, did not relish
trying to get her pantyhose down and was not desperate enough to just go
through them.
But she knew it was just a
matter of time. And she couldn't let
that stop her from drinking again and as frequently as she could. It would be humiliating to soil herself, but
she might not have any choice.
Especially if Kirk wouldn't
bend enough to drink. She had a feeling
the restraints would stay on until he did.
She heard Kirk laugh
bitterly, frowned. "What?"
"I was just thinking
that if I hadn't been so damned nice, you wouldn't be down here."
She didn't tell him she'd
thought the same thing.
He moved awkwardly and she
sighed. "If you won't drink, you
should try to sleep."
"I'll sleep if you
do." He shot her an annoyed look.
"You need sleep. Whatever that weapon did, it took a lot out
of you. You'll be no good to either of
us, if you don't rest."
He looked away.
"With all due respect,
sir. I don't think we're going anywhere
for a while. Wouldn't it be better to
try to sleep?"
"Spock will find
us."
She took a deep breath. "Alesson is probably still pretending to
be Larkins. I imagine he'll throw them
off for a while." She leaned back
against the wall. "We could be
anywhere on the planet. He probably has
shields."
"Chapel, I don't want to
hear all the reasons our situation might be hopeless. I can't think like that. I don't want you to either."
She looked away. Chastened.
"Yes, sir."
He sighed. "I didn't mean to snap."
"It's okay." She blinked back tears, knew they were from
the strain. And from the fear she didn't
want to admit to, fear that Kirk could probably see anyway. "I'm sorry."
He sighed again. Then he slowly stretched out, trying to find
a comfortable position. He looked over
at her, his eyes hooded.
She wished she knew what he
was thinking. And what he thought of
her. Feared she would come up wanting.
"So damned
practical." He shook his head
slightly, then closed his eyes. In
moments, he was asleep.
Chapel tried to relax, let
her eyes close and attempted to find a more comfortable way to sit. She could picture Spock as he worked with the
supposed Larkins. Could see the Vulcan's
sense of panic suppressed into tight-lipped control as he got no closer to
finding his captain and friend. And
her. She almost laughed. She knew she didn't rate as high on the Spock
emotional scale as Kirk did. Not by a
long shot.
It was something she'd
learned to live with.
-------------------------------
Kirk woke with a start, his
body aching, thirst roaring. For a
moment he couldn't figure out where he was and he stared at the bars on the
door, at the dirt floor that stretched out to meet those bars.
Then he remembered.
He tried to stretch cramped
muscles, sat up slowly. He looked over
to where Chapel lay curled awkwardly on the floor, breathing the slow, heavy
breath of exhausted sleep.
He heard the door open,
pushed himself slowly to his feet. His head
felt fuzzy and light and he closed his eyes, concentrated on staying
upright. When he opened his eyes,
Alesson was standing by the door.
Kirk walked to him.
"She looks very
uncomfortable," Alesson said softly.
Kirk didn't turn to look at
her. "She no doubt is. Isn't that what you intended?"
Alesson looked away from
Chapel. "She fixed my back. This is no way to repay that
kindness." He shrugged. "On the other hand, she fixed my back on
your orders. And I'm not overly worried
about how you're feeling about all this."
He laughed, the sound barely audible.
"It's up to you, you know."
"What is?"
"How long you have to
wear those restraints. All you have to
do is bend enough to drink."
Kirk took a step back, away
from Alesson and the water.
"So she has to suffer
because you're too proud to lap up the water you so desperately need?"
Kirk looked away.
"And you once called me
rigid." Alesson shook his
head. "You can't always win,
Kirk. I know that must be a blow, but
it's a fact. You won't win. You won't walk away from this."
"Neither will you."
"Why not? You think your intrepid first officer and his
impending rescue are much of a threat?"
Alesson grinned. "He's currently
chasing a ship that left orbit around the time you disappeared. Smugglers, I'm afraid, so they'll probably be
hard to find."
Kirk fought any
reaction. This was not unexpected
news. He hadn't expected Alesson to make
it easy for Spock to find them.
"Oh, such a stalwart
hero you are. Just as the reports always
portray you. I followed them avidly
during my convalescence. Even more so
when I was amassing the fortune I needed to pull this off. The shields around this room are the most
advanced money can buy." He touched
one of the bars, slowly, almost lovingly.
"I've waited so long for this.
I plan to savor every moment."
Kirk felt his mouth twist as
it tightened. Tried to hide his
anger. "She's an innocent. Let her go."
"You want to protect
her? That's good."
Kirk turned, saw that Chapel
was watching them. She met his eyes,
didn't look away. He saw that the front
of her skirt was wet and she seemed to realize he saw it. She reddened, looked away.
"I'm sorry," he
said.
She shrugged. "I had to go. There was no other way. Why be sorry?" But her face got even redder.
"So pragmatic. A pity your captain can't be the same
way." Alesson sounded amused. "And it's your fault, Kirk. If you'd just drink, I'd free your arms. She knows that, don't you, my dear? That he's doing this to you."
"He didn't lock me in
this cell," Chapel said, but there was something in her tone, something
lost.
Kirk sighed. He walked to the water, knelt quickly, intent
on getting this over with.
"No, sir. Not for me." Chapel tried to struggle to her feet.
"Don't," Kirk
snapped at her.
She froze.
He bent down, lapped up the
water with his tongue. It tasted like
heaven.
"Come here, my
dear," Alesson said gently. "I
am a man of my word."
Kirk kept drinking, intent on
getting as much water as his body needed.
He knew that Alesson would move on to something worse very shortly. He'd been a fool to ignore Chapel when she'd
told him the water was necessary. She'd
been right.
He heard the sound of her
restraints coming off. Felt her trying to
take his own off, but she was clumsy.
"I'm sorry. My hands are asleep."
He nodded, kept on drinking.
Finally, she had his hands
free. He pulled away from the trough,
shook his arms out, trying to stop the pins and needles feeling that was
shooting through his hands. "Let
her go," he said again to Alesson.
"I can't do that. She is the witness."
"Witness to what?"
Chapel asked quietly.
Kirk had the feeling she was
trying to reach out to Alesson, trying to forge some sort of sympathy between
them. Yes, Kirk urged her silently. Do that.
He didn't think it would help him, but it just might save her life.
"The witness to his
pain, his humiliation. To my victory
over him." Alesson smiled; it was a
dark expression. "You will be there
to see when he dies. You will watch
every moment of it and later you will tell the world what happened here. How I broke the great James T.
Kirk." He backed away from the
bars.
Kirk clenched his hands
tightly. "You don't need her. I know you have surveillance. Let her go and let the images speak for
themselves."
Alesson shook his head
slowly. "You would not have drunk
the water for some video images. Only
for her. She is your witness. She is also your hostage."
Kirk had not expected his
pleas to work, but disappointment for Chapel flooded him anyway. She hadn't asked for any of this, had no part
in what had happened all those years ago.
Her life had been hard enough.
Now this. Because of him.
He turned to her. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head firmly. "No reason to be, sir. We're Starfleet."
Alesson drew his weapon. "Let's see if you say that in a few
hours." He motioned Kirk out of the
cell, closed the door behind him. He
pointed to the far side of the large room, where the shackles hung on the
wall. "Stand facing the wall and
put your wrists against them. They lock
automatically."
Kirk tensed as he walked,
hoping Alesson would follow him. Ready
and more than willing to jump the man.
"I'll hurt her if you
try anything, Kirk. And I'm not fool
enough to get close to you while you're free."
Kirk reached the far wall,
stood staring up at the shackles, unwilling to reach for them.
"Kirk, I'm warning
you."
Kirk didn't move.
There was a short blast, then
Kirk heard Chapel scream. He turned, saw
Alesson let go of the trigger and turn back to him.
"Shall I continue,
Kirk? Would you rather I tortured
her?"
"Sir, no. I'm all right." Chapel was struggling to her feet, pulling
herself up by the bars.
"I turned the intensity
down a few levels. I want her to be able
to watch. But perhaps I should turn it
up again for the next blast? Give her a
taste of what you got?" His hand
hovered over the weapon.
Kirk could feel his mouth
tightening. Hatred for Alesson roiled up
inside him as he turned and slammed his wrists into the shackles, which
fastened immediately. He pulled, could
feel that they were solid in the walls.
He looked over his shoulder, back at the cell. It hurt his neck to hold it that way, but he
could just see them. He turned back to
stare at the wall in front of him.
"Very good,
Kirk." Alesson laughed. "You see, my dear. How useful you are. Now watch.
Watch it all."
"Don't do this. Please," Chapel said.
Kirk turned his head, saw her
staring pleadingly at Alesson.
"Please don't hurt
him. You don't need to do that. You've already beaten him. We're here, at your mercy."
Alesson laughed. "Yes, you are. What is your name, my dear?"
"Christine," she
whispered.
"Christine. Such a pretty name. Such a pretty woman." Alesson caressed her face briefly, then
grabbed her by the hair.
She cried out briefly, then
bit back any other sound.
"I am not stupid,
Christine. I will not be cajoled into
mercy. I have no mercy inside me. Haven't since the day that man"--he
pointed at Kirk--"killed everyone I ever loved." He pushed her away. "Don't try to reach the man under the
monster. There isn't one."
He strode away from her. Kirk heard him grab something off the table.
"Now do tell me if I'm
blocking your view, Christine." He
laughed to himself. "Have you ever
considered what a laser scalpel could do in the wrong hands?"
"No, please." Chapel's voice was frightened.
"Oh, but you must have
wondered." Alesson ran the scalpel
down the middle of Kirk's sleeves, parting them, letting them fall away to
expose skin. He did the same thing to
the back and front of Kirk's shirt until it hung in tatters around him.
"So much for the proud
Starfleet captain," he said, his voice a purr. "This is going to hurt."
Kirk swallowed hard. Steeled himself for pain.
But was in no way ready for
the searing agony that went through him as the laser sliced through the skin of
his arm. Alesson went just deep enough
to cut, not enough to hit an artery or tendon.
"I had to practice a
long time with this to reach this level of precision," Alesson said. "Went through a lot of people before I
got it right."
He struck again and
again. Kirk fought to not cry out. Fought to not try to crawl up the wall or
tear his wrists against the shackles to get away.
He lost the fight.
Alesson leaned in as Kirk
screamed. "The laser has one
drawback. It cauterizes as we go. So the pain and damage just don't linger." He backed away.
Kirk heard a drawer being opened,
heard Alesson rummaging through it.
Then he was back. He leaned in again, said, "Fortunately,
I have many other toys."
Then he punched Kirk hard, in
the ribs, something cold and sharp over Alesson's knuckles bit deep as he hit,
tore skin off as he pulled away.
Kirk clenched his teeth as
the next blow landed. He would not cry
out. Would not.
But his determination could
not stop the grunts as each punch landed, as the terrible pain came over him.
"Time to change toys
again." Alesson sounded like a
small child on his birthday, unsure what to do next. "You tell me, Christine. What shall it
be? Fire or whips."
She did not answer.
"Oh, you're no
help." He came back with a small
torch, hit the igniter, held the flame close to Kirk's face. "Fire it is."
Kirk shuddered.
And eventually, he screamed.
-------------------
Chapel sat in the back of the
cell, unwilling to watch any longer as Kirk was tortured. If she could have crawled into the stone
surface of the cell wall she would have.
Anything to get away from the sounds, anything to not have to bear
witness to her captain's pain. She put
her hands over her ears, was crooning softly to herself when she suddenly
realized that the screaming had stopped.
She looked up, saw Alesson
staring at her in disdain. "Hardly
Starfleet material, are you? All you
have to do is watch and you can't even do that right?" He tossed her a regenerator. She stared down at it uncomprehendingly as he
walked out of the cell.
A few moments later, he was back,
dragging Kirk behind him. The captain
was covered in burns and welts and cuts, blood and other things staining his
uniform. His eyes were glazed and
unfocused. She hurried to him.
"Fix him up. I want him good as new tomorrow."
She stared up at Alesson. "You can't be serious."
"Good as new, my
dear." He headed for the door.
She rushed after him. "You really think I'll make him better
just so you can torture him again?"
Alesson smiled. "Yes.
I do."
"I won't."
He smiled, gestured at the regenerator. "Well, I suppose if you're clever enough
you could figure out how to make that instrument deadly and use it to kill
him." His smile turned mocking. "Of course, if you do kill him, I'll
torture you instead." He stroked
her hair, laughed as she jerked away.
"And you don't have the courage for that."
"Maybe I'll kill us
both."
He shook his head. "You have too much courage to do
that."
"Maybe I'll kill
you."
He smiled again. "You can dream." He pushed the door closed, set the lock in
place. "Good as new,
Christine. By morning."
She shuddered at how he made
her name sound.
----------------------------
Kirk woke, blinding pain
coursing through him, spasming in his back, his thighs, and his clenched hands.
"Shhh. It's all right now." A voice, gentle. Not the voice of his tormentor. Who?
"Captain, it's me. Christine."
"Christine." His voice was raspy, and he swallowed hard.
A wet cloth was placed near
his mouth, liquid dribbling out onto his lips.
He opened his mouth, let the water fall, little by little. "Thirsty."
"I know. But it's not good all at once. You're in shock." She pulled the cloth away.
He heard the splash of water,
then the cloth was back, more liquid being squeezed into his mouth.
"Besides," she said
softly, "we don't have a cup. I
tore this from my uniform."
He remembered now. There was only the trough, and Alesson had
wanted them to drink like animals from it.
And they had.
He closed his eyes, felt a
cooling sensation on his temple, heard the slight whirr of a regenerator. Good as new, Kirk had heard Alesson say that
before he'd passed out. She had to make
him good as new. So he could be hurt
again.
He tried not to shudder.
"I screamed." It wasn't a question. He knew he had.
"You did. But you didn't tell him anything."
"He doesn't want to know
anything. This isn't about getting
information. This is about
revenge." He tried to roll to his
side, take some pressure off his torn back, but as soon as he did, his stomach
started to throb. "This is about
hurting me."
She eased him over, gently
pulling what was left of his shirt from the wounds. He hissed as she worked, trying not to react
with any louder sounds as pain rocketed through him--living for the moment that
the blessed coolness would begin again.
"I'm sorry," she
said softly, and he realized she was crying.
"Christine. It's all right."
"No, sir. It's not." But she kept working, her hands steady as she
took his pain away. "He's never
going to let us go, is he?"
"You, I think. As his witness. When he gets tired of this. But not me." Kirk closed his eyes, then opened them again,
fighting sleep.
He did not want to wake just
to find Alesson waiting for him.
"They'll find us. Spock will find us. You know he'll never quit looking." Her voice was low and she was doing something
with her fingers, something nice to his temples. "He'll find us, sir."
He couldn't fight any
longer. Not when his body was screaming
for rest and her fingers were so soothing.
He yawned, felt his lip, already split from Alesson's beating, tear some
more and grimaced. But the pain couldn't
hold him, neither could the taste of blood in his mouth. He let go and fell asleep.
--------------------
Chapel fought sleep, sat
vigil over Kirk as he tossed fitfully.
She got up, walked to the cell door.
She leaned her head against
the cool bars, gripping them as if she could tear them off.
"I trust you slept
well?"
She had not heard Alesson
come in.
She glared at him.
"How touching, my
dear. How very much a testament to your
profession. Keeping vigil. I did right to pick you as my witness, not
that I had a lot of choice." He
smiled at her. "I imagine you watch
things all the time. Patients, the
aftermath of the crew's adventures, life.
Always watching. Never
doing." His smile turned pitying,
seemed laced with scorn, as if she didn't measure up. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"
She didn't answer him.
He smiled. "Is he as good as new?"
"No. You hurt him too badly for that."
"As long as I can hurt
him some more, I won't complain."
He held up a whip, there were small bits of metal at the end of the
straps. "Do you know what this can
do?"
"I can imagine."
He laughed. "Soon you won't have to. Soon you'll see it firsthand." He stepped closer to her. "Do not retreat to the back of the cell
again. You're no good to me as a witness
if you don't watch."
She started to back away from
him and he grabbed her, tearing at her hair again, the same place he'd grabbed
her the last time. She cried out. He pulled her hard against the bars, her
cheek hitting painfully on the metal.
"Leave her alone."
She could hear Kirk
struggling to rise.
"Sir, no. I'm fine." She couldn't turn to look at him, Alesson
held her too tightly. "I'll watch,"
she said softly.
"I can't hear you."
"I'll watch," she
said, loudly this time.
Alesson let her go. "Consider it an education in pain. Surely useful in your profession?" He pushed her away, opened the door.
As he walked past her to get
to Kirk, she kicked out, trying to use the skills they'd taught her in the
mandatory hand-to-hand class all officers had to take.
Alesson was ready for her,
grabbing her leg and yanking it hard, pulling her off her feet. She hit the ground, pain shooting through her
hip as it connected with the hard floor.
"Do not do that
again." He kicked her in the
ribs.
She curled into a fetal
position, agony running through her. She
fought tears, knew her pain was nothing compared to what Kirk would soon be going
through.
"Get to the door. Take your position."
She slowly pulled herself up,
struggled to the cell door as Alesson pulled Kirk to his feet and dragged him
back out to the shackles. She gripped
the bars again, knew that this time she had to stay, had to watch it all. She felt sick, the pain in her ribs and hip
mixing with her nausea at what was to come.
She held harder to the
bars. She would watch. It had been cowardly to try to hide. She would not fail Kirk again.
-----------------------------
Kirk fought Alesson as he
secured his arms, tried to kick out at him and earned a punch in the
kidneys. He groaned, pain from the
earlier beating competing with this new agony.
"Coward," he said,
making his voice strong, secure. In
control.
He hoped.
"You think so? I went to considerable risk to secure you,
Kirk. To myself and to my own personal
fortune." His voice dropped to a
whisper. "My new identity will be
destroyed if I let her go. She can
identify me. Maybe I shouldn't let her
go? Our little witness? What do you think?" His hand was pressing in on a particularly
sensitive spot on Kirk's shoulder.
"She's an
innocent."
"I know. That's what makes this such a difficult
decision." Alesson's breath was hot
on his ear. "I hate you enough to
make my own capture worth it. And how
else will the world know what I accomplished here unless she goes
free?" He laughed, a low, dangerous
sound. "But freedom, on the other
hand, is quite enticing. And she will be
all that stands between it and me."
"She's done nothing
wrong."
"She cares for you. That's enough."
"I'm her captain. That's all." Kirk struggled to breathe as Alesson pressed
in on him. Then he felt his head
wrenched back, turned to look at where Chapel stood at the door.
"She didn't sleep at all
last night. Kept vigil over you. Is that what your crew does?"
"She's a nurse. And a good one."
"We'll see." Alesson let go of him and backed away enough
to shake out the whip he carried. The
metal ends hit against each other, making deceptively pretty sounds. "This will hurt quite a lot." He laughed, ran the handle of the whip down
Kirk's spine.
Kirk shuddered. Control, he had to keep control.
Then Alesson stepped back,
said sharply, "It begins."
He waited a split second
longer than Kirk expected, just enough to throw him off, to make him wonder
when the blow was coming.
Then Alesson struck, the whip
singing as it flew toward Kirk, the metal pieces tearing into his flesh. The pain was unimaginable.
He didn't cry out. Not this time, or the next. Or the one after that. But he knew it was just a matter of time
before he lost the fight. Before he lost
control.
Chapel bit back a cry of
alarm as Alesson finally lowered the whip.
Kirk's back was torn to shreds; he sagged in the shackles, no longer
crying out. No longer making any sound
at all.
Alesson walked over to
her. She forced herself to hold her
position, to steel her expression to one that was slightly less horrified.
"He is brave, isn't
he? Fighting to not cry out. Fighting to not lose control." Alesson touched her hand where it gripped the
bars. "What would you give to make
his pain stop?"
She looked up at him in
surprise. "What do you want me to
give?"
"Would you pleasure
me? Make me scream as loudly as he does
from the bliss you could give me?"
"If that would help him,
then I would."
Alesson laughed. "Would you do the same for him? Make love to your captain with me
watching."
Chapel met his gaze, tried not
to flinch at the mockery in it.
"I'd have sex with the Klingon high council if I thought it would
help Captain Kirk."
Alesson laughed. "Finally, some spirit." He looked back at Kirk. "You do not have to do any of those
things, my dear. Nothing will help
him." He smiled, almost
tenderly. "He will suffer here and,
eventually, he will die here."
"Why?"
"Because he took
everything I cared about away."
"You were a
criminal."
"That depends on your
point of view. To many, I was a
hero."
"I think you're a
madman." She realized that
antagonizing him was not going to help either Kirk or herself. "But a brilliant one. You don't need to do this to be superior to
him."
Alesson smiled
knowingly. "Very good, my
dear. Try to trick me some
more." He pushed the door
open. "Your captain needs your
help."
She hesitated.
"Well, go get him
down." He nodded toward where Kirk
hung. "Just hit the little
button."
She hurried past him, nearly
running to the wall. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"
Kirk opened his eyes, tried
to smile at her. "I'm fine,
Christine."
She bit back a sob as she
looked at his back. The metal pieces had
cut deep, torn chunks of skin out.
"Of course, Captain."
She reached up, saw a small
button and hit it desperately. It released
the shackles, and she caught Kirk as he sagged, was nearly dragged to the
ground as she tried to support him. He
cried out in pain as she touched his ruined back.
He was dead weight, barely
able to walk despite his repeated claims of "I can make it."
She was breathing hard by the
time she got him to the cell. Alesson
mockingly bowed her inside. "Good
as new, Christine."
She glared at him. "I can't. You did too much."
"You can. And you will." He laughed.
"If it makes you feel better, I'll concentrate on some other area
tomorrow." He shut the cell and
locked it, then, with a pleased smile, he left.
Chapel felt all the bravado
go out of her, bit back a sob as she gently settled Kirk on the ground face
down, trying to keep his back as clean as she could. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Christine? Is that you?" He seemed disoriented, barely conscious.
She considered that a
blessing.
"It's me,
sir." She reached for the
regenerator, began to try to repair his wounds.
Blood trailed down his skin as
she worked, running onto her uniform and blending with the blood from the
previous day. The smell of it, and of
the torn flesh, made her sick but she fought the nausea.
"Sorry," Kirk
muttered, wincing each time she moved to a new area.
"Sorry for what?"
"Can't protect
you."
"No, sir," she said
softly. "I know you
can't." She ran her hands over his
damp hair. "I wish I could protect
you."
--------------------------
Kirk opened his eyes slowly, surprised
to feel someone--Chapel, he presumed--pressed against his back. He shifted slowly, felt her move away.
"Are you in pain,"
she asked, her voice soft in his ear.
He tried to turn, felt his
stiff body refuse. "Yes."
"Can I help?"
He could feel her reaching
for the regenerator. "Don't
bother. He'll be at me again soon
anyway."
"It could be hours
before he comes back. Why should you be
in pain?" She began to probe gently
with her fingers, stopping wherever she provoked a reaction from him and
treating it with the regenerator.
"The pain keeps me
focused."
"Bull." She laughed softly, as if embarrassed. "I mean, I don't think so, sir."
He let her work for a
while. "We stink."
"I know. Try breathing through your mouth."
Her pragmatism provoked a
chuckle, despite how bad he felt. But
the amusement died quickly. He tried not
to think of what was to come, found he couldn't. "So what do you think
he'll use next? We've done whips and
cutting and fire."
She dropped the
regenerator. "Don't. Don't joke about it." The last word came out as a sob.
He turned over, forcing his
body to respond to his commands. It took
longer than he liked, and her face was composed by the time he could look at
her. "I'm sorry."
"You said
that."
She started to work on his
arms but he took the regenerator from her.
"Christine. It's okay to be scared."
She nodded but wouldn't meet
his eyes.
He tipped her chin up. "I'm scared."
"No, you're
not." She reached out, surprised
him by stroking his cheek. "You're
angry and you're in pain and you're probably feeling humiliated. But you're not afraid."
He smiled softly. "I can't be afraid?" He immediately wished he could take the
question back when her eyes welled up with tears. "Christine."
"You can. You can if you want." She turned away, rolled over so he couldn't
see her face anymore.
He sighed. "Did you sleep at all?"
"A little."
"Come back
here." When she didn't move, he
said, "Roll over. That's an order,
Nurse Chapel."
She turned over. Her expression was haunted.
He studied her face. There were dark shadows under her eyes and
her eyelids were drooping. "You
need to sleep." He touched her forehead
softly. "Close your eyes."
She shook her head. "I need to take care of you."
"You already did
that. Now close your eyes. As you told me not too long ago, you're no
good to us if you don't sleep."
"Promise me you'll sleep
too."
He nodded. Watched as she closed her eyes, waited until she
was asleep before he closed his eyes, and dropped back off himself.
-----------------------
Chapel was startled out of
sleep by a loud bang.
"Rise and
shine." Alesson laughed, then
whapped the bars again.
She struggled to a seated
position, saw that he had a metal pipe in his hand. He smiled at her then ran it across the bars,
causing a terrible screeching clang.
Kirk stood up, walked over to
the door. For a moment, she thought he
was going to grab the pipe out of Alesson's hands. It looked like Alesson thought so too,
because he backed up a bit.
"Ah, feeling better,
Kirk? Looks like our nurse is finally
earning her keep." He leaned in,
said conspiratorially, "Do you know that she said she'd have sex with me
if it would help you?"
Kirk didn't hesitate. "She's a loyal crewmember."
"Ah, very loyal. She said she'd have sex with you
too." Alesson laughed. "Maybe she just likes sex? Ever think of that?"
Chapel bit back a retort; it
wouldn't help the captain.
"You're in a good
mood," Kirk said.
Alesson drew his weapon,
threw the pipe away. "Yes, I
am. Would you like to know
why?" When Kirk didn't answer, he
turned to Chapel. "Maybe you
would?" He didn't wait for her
answer. "See, I have this wonderful
new toy. It's modified from a dream
channeler. You do know what that
is?"
Chapel nodded. They were all the rage. Shore leave tales were full of reports of the
fabulous sex a person could have, all from a dream.
Alesson leaned in to
Kirk. "See, she knows all about
them. I think there's more than meets
the eye to this one."
"Everybody's heard about
them," Kirk said tightly.
"If you say
so." Alesson opened the door,
gestured for Kirk to come out. "The
shackles are waiting, great Captain."
Chapel saw Kirk move, saw Alesson
move just as fast. Kirk's hands were
around Alesson's throat as the other man fired point blank into Kirk's
chest. Kirk let go, fell down with a
harsh cry. Alesson kept firing.
Then he stopped. Pulling the door shut with a loud slam and
locking it, he said to her. "Take
your place."
Chapel felt a surge of
rebellion. "No."
He fired and pain filled her,
pain so intense that her vision went black and her throat tightened up, making
it difficult to breathe. She could feel
her heart reacting, beating faster and faster.
Too fast. If he kept it up, her
heart would explode. She heard a scream,
realized she was making the sound.
Then the pain stopped. She fell to the ground, sobbing in relief.
"Take your place."
She tried to get up but couldn't,
and ended up crawling to the door, pulling herself up by will alone.
"There won't be much to
see this time. It'll be happening in his
mind." He nudged Kirk, forcing him
to all fours. "To the shackles, you
arrogant fool. And crawl if you have to."
Kirk pushed himself to his
feet, staggered up to the shackles. Once
he was secure, Alesson hooked another set to his feet, pulling them until Kirk
was held tightly against the wall. Then
he took the dream channeler, placed it on Kirk's head. The electrodes burrowed into his skull
slightly, setting up the neural connections.
Kirk tried to get away,
couldn't. He turned to look at her. His eyes slowly closed, and he sagged against
the wall.
"Now, Captain
Kirk," Alesson said, imbuing the title with disdain. "Let's find out what you fear? What's your worst nightmare, sexually
speaking?"
He reached for a controller,
watched something. Then he turned to
her. "Like any dream channeler,
this is looking for the strongest signal.
The best reaction. But unlike
your more mundane channelers, this isn't looking for pleasure prompts. It's looking for just the opposite. Oh, here's a strong one. Let's see what we've got."
He hit a button and Kirk
suddenly straightened in his restraints.
"What are you doing? Your
body...so strange...so different from a human woman. Oh. Yes.
That feels good." He moaned,
began to move against the wall.
Alesson looked back at
her. "I guess we know what part of
his body you'll need to concentrate on tonight?"
She didn't react, refused to
give him the satisfaction.
Alesson was watching the
signals again. "This is where it
gets interesting. Watch."
Kirk suddenly stopped
thrusting. "No! That hurts?
What are you doing?" Then he
screamed, loud, terrified. A worse
scream than any he'd made when Alesson had physically tortured him.
Alesson hit a switch and Kirk
sagged.
"I imagine he'll think
twice before he beds another alien."
Alesson grinned at her, as if it was a big joke the two of them were
enjoying. "Let's see what else we
can find." He waited for a second
then hit the switch. "This should
be good."
Kirk straightened up, tried
to move his hands, as if reaching out to someone. "Spock?
Spock, you have to let me help. I
can't let you die."
Chapel closed her eyes. She knew this fantasy. When she opened her eyes, she saw Alesson was
watching her, his smile grew mocking as he studied her.
She swallowed hard, forced
her expression to clear, to be neutral.
As if she didn't know where this would go if it was going to turn into a
nightmare.
Kirk was moaning, moving
sensuously against the wall. Then he
jerked. "Spock? You're hurting me. Please, Spock. Stop now.
Oh, god. Please stop."
In his dreams, Spock didn't
stop. Kirk writhed, tried to get
away. Then he screamed, screamed without
ceasing.
Chapel stifled a sob. She knew this nightmare too. The Pon Farr gone bad. The one where Spock didn't love you, he
killed you. Killed you with sex. It was a nightmare she had every now and
then. Apparently, Kirk had it too.
Alesson let the scenario run
on and on.
"Please stop," she
begged.
He turned to her. "Do you think they're lovers?"
She didn't answer.
"I think they must
be."
She shrugged, tried to make the
movement as nonchalant as she could.
"Oh, fine. Be that way." Alesson hit the switch and Kirk sagged
again.
This time he sobbed as he
hung from the shackles.
Chapel closed her eyes. She hadn't thought that Alesson could break
him.
Not until now.
"Let's see what else is
in his mind, shall we?" Alesson
watched her carefully, seemed pleased by whatever he saw in her face. "I'm sure there must be something worse
he can think to do to himself."
She hoped to god he was
wrong.
Unfortunately, he wasn't.
--------------------------
Kirk felt soft hands running
down his back.
"Sir, it's me."
He flinched from her touch,
aroused and terrified at the same time.
"It's Christine,
Captain."
Christine? Yes, Christine Chapel. He was her captain. They were here; they were prisoners. Not having sex. Thank god they weren't having sex. He opened his eyes. "We're not having sex, are we?"
"No, sir," she
said. "This is going to
sting."
He felt a sharp tug on his
scalp and winced.
"There, it's out
now." Her hands were so soothing,
running down his back.
He pulled away. They had all started out soothing, those
lovers. Until they'd gone bad, started
to hurt him. Or until he'd started to
hurt them. "Get away from me."
She reached up, undid his
shackles. "No, sir. It's all right."
He jerked away from her
touch, fell to the ground hard, his hand hitting awkwardly, the angle all
wrong. He heard bone snap, cried out at
the sudden jarring pain.
He heard her sob. None of his tormentors had done that. But the ones he had hurt...they'd begged for
mercy. Cried and cried and cried--
"I'll fix that. Just let me get you back to the cell."
Odd to think he'd be safe
there. But he knew it was true. He'd be safe there...for a while.
He let her help him up, tried
to walk on his own but staggered, didn't fall down only because she caught and
steadied him. "Christine?"
"Yes, sir."
"It hurts." He looked down.
"You rubbed it. Against
the wall." She sounded
embarrassed. "I'll make it
better."
He was suddenly mortified,
realized what he'd said, what she'd said.
"It's okay."
"Sir, you're
bleeding."
"Oh."
"Not badly.
Just..."
"Just let you work on
it," he finished for her.
"Yes." She sounded grateful.
He wondered what she'd really
meant to say.
He heard the door slam, heard
Alesson's nasty laugh. "Hate
him," Kirk whispered to Chapel.
"I'm going to kill him. You
watch."
Her hand tightened on his
arm. "Shhh, it's all right,
sir."
"How come you never call
me Jim?" Did she not like him? He tried to look at her but his head was
spinning. "I don't feel very
good."
He felt her turn his head
away, then he vomited. Over and over and
over as she rubbed his back and murmured words he couldn't make out because of
the pounding in his head.
He crawled to the water
trough. Made a cup of his hands and
drank. He tried to do it again but she
pulled him back.
He felt a surge of
anger. "I'm thirsty." He reached for the water.
She pulled his hands away
from the trough. "Too much and you'll
just throw up again."
"Don't tell me what to
do." He pushed her away
roughly.
She lost her balance, fell
sprawled across the dirt.
He crawled to her, anger and
fear filling him. Who was she to tell
him what to do? "Don't push
me."
"Sir, I'm just trying to
do what's best for you."
Why wouldn't she shut
up? She kept talking, tried to get
up. He pushed her back down, his hands
circling her throat. Then he began to
squeeze, his hurt hand protesting. He
ignored the pain.
"Captain, please
stop," she croaked. "Jim,
you're hurting me."
She'd called him Jim. And he was hurting her. Why was he hurting her? She took care of him. She was kind to him. The only good thing in this horrible
place. He loosened his grip.
"This is an interesting
aftereffect."
Kirk had forgotten his
nemesis was watching. He let go of
Christine, turned to the cell door. He
stood, his hands outstretched. "I'm
going to kill you," he yelled at where Alesson stood. Only there seemed to
be two of his enemy, both laughing at him.
Then there were four.
He collapsed before Alesson
could multiply again.
------------------------
"My, my," Alesson
said. "I didn't know that would
happen."
Chapel ignored him. Just went to work on Kirk's pelvic region,
hoping she could get done before the captain woke up. His chest would need attention too. He'd rubbed it against the wall during his
dreams, leaving a nasty abrasion.
"Ever the valiant nurse,
aren't you?" Alesson crouched down,
watched her intently. "I think he
would have killed you if I hadn't distracted him."
"He isn't himself."
"Oh, you keep believing
that. James T. Kirk is no
murderer." Alesson pushed himself
up. "Just ask my wife. Ask my children."
She turned on him, anger
welling up inside her. "Why were
they there if you cared so much about them?
With your weapons and explosives.
That was dangerous and you made it that way."
His face turned to
stone. "Watch your tongue,
Christine. Or I'll give you a ride on the nightmare channeler."
"You already have."
He smiled.
She turned away, started to
work on Kirk's broken hand.
"Are you in love with
him?"
She ignored him.
"Or is it just hero
worship?" Alesson began to
pace. "Was he kind to you at a
difficult moment? Do you owe him for something?"
She remembered how Kirk had
supported her when they'd found Roger.
Yes, he'd been kind to her. Then
and later. Always, really. He'd never teased her about Spock the way
McCoy did. "He's a good man. A decent man.
That's something you wouldn't understand."
She glanced at Alesson.
He didn't look particularly
stung. "Yes, well, your good,
decent man is going to die. And very
soon." He smiled. "You've been an excellent witness
throughout this. And a wonderful
facilitator. Fixing him up so
nicely. I don't know how I would have
managed without your help."
She swallowed hard, did not
look up.
"But you must be getting
tired of just watching?"
She looked up at him.
"I plan to give you a
far more active role in the next stage."
He smiled, the expression so full of malice that she had to turn away.
He laughed. "Oh, don't fret, my dear. It will be over soon. And then you'll be free to leave. My witness to the world."
She shook her head. Not wanting to hear it, not sure she believed
anything he said anymore.
Except she didn't doubt that
he meant to kill Kirk. She wanted to
think she wouldn't let him. That she'd
stop him somehow.
But she knew it was a shallow
hope.
Still, it was better than no
hope.
"Well, I'll leave you to
it. Pleasant dreams." He laughed again.
"You're evil," she
said without turning.
He didn't reply, didn't even
break stride as he walked away from her.
"Just stay asleep. And don't dream," she whispered to Kirk
as she began to repair the small holes the electrodes had left in his
scalp. "Don't dream at all."
Kirk reached out for Spock,
saw his friend's expression shift. Spock
changed to Elaan, then to Ruth. All of
them intent on hurting him. He cried
out, "No!" and jerked awake.
"Sir?" Chapel was watching him carefully, curled up
on her side across from him. Not close
enough for him to touch her.
He moved toward her and she
flinched away.
"Christine?"
She put her hand to her throat,
an unconscious gesture, and he noticed a ring of bruises there. Had Alesson hurt her?
Then he remembered. Not Alesson.
He had done it.
"Christine. I'm sorry."
She scooted toward him
quickly, as if she had seen something in his face that told her it was all
right, that he wouldn't hurt her.
He wasn't sure he would have
been that brave if the tables had been turned.
She slowly put her arm around
him and he sighed at the feeling of contact.
The dream was still with him, and he buried his head in her neck.
"Shhh. It's all right now. It's over."
He could still feel Spock
pounding at him, could remember a dream where he and Spock had hurt
Chapel. He tried to pull away, but she
held him fast.
"It wasn't you. And it wasn't whoever you were with. They were all just nightmares. Do you understand?"
Nightmares. Yes, nightmares. Terrible nightmares. He sobbed, felt immediately ashamed of his
weakness and wrenched away.
She let him go. Lay silently on the ground, tears running
down her cheek, splashing softly in the dirt.
He watched her cry, his own
need for release somehow contained in her tears. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He touched her neck, traced the livid
bruises.
"I know."
He pulled his hand away. "I'll kill him," he whispered.
"I believe you."
He looked to see if she was
humoring him, but there was something in her eyes, something calm and
determined. She believed in him. After all this, she still believed in him.
"He deserves to
die." Her expression was fierce but
distant, as if she was remembering something.
Something unpleasant.
"What did he say to
you?"
"The usual. Mocking, hurtful things. I'll survive." She smiled strangely.
He moved closer to her, put
his arm around her and pulled her in, until their foreheads were resting
against each other. She moved her arm
gently around his waist, her touch full of comfort.
"You can tell me
anything," she said so softly he almost could not make out the words.
"About the dreams?"
"Yes."
He pulled away. "I can't," he said.
"It was Spock, wasn't
it?"
He tensed and she held him
more tightly. They lay chest to chest,
her head in the space between his chin and neck.
"The Pon Farr gone
bad? I have that dream too."
"Yes." The one word was utter surrender and she
seemed to realize it.
She rubbed his arm
slowly.
"Yes, that was
it." Other images assailed
him. He had not always been the victim
in the nightmares. "I hurt
people."
"You didn't hurt
anyone. They're called bad dreams for a
reason, Jim. Because they're just
dreams, not real."
He liked the sound of his
name on her tongue, how it made him feel closer to her and more human.
"Alesson
said..." She shook her head,
trailed off.
He waited. Finally, he asked, "What did Alesson
say?"
"He thinks you and Spock
are lovers."
Kirk sighed. "He isn't the only one." He started to pull away.
"Please, don't. I'm sorry." She sounded miserable.
"You just had to
know?" He was irritated with her,
but let her pull him back against her.
"You couldn't leave it alone, chalk the closeness I have with him
up to friendship--the kind that comes along once in a lifetime, if you're
lucky? I trust Spock. Trust him with my
life. With my ship. With everything I have."
"I'm sorry," she
said again.
They lay in an uncomfortable
silence.
"You have the same
nightmare?" he finally asked.
She nodded against his
chest. "Only I'm not his
friend."
"I know." He didn't say it to be cruel, but his tone
came out harsher than he intended.
"I mean--"
"--I know what you
mean." She shifted slightly. "You need more sleep. We both do."
He knew she was right, sleep
would heal him. Just as long as there
were no dreams.
"I'll be right
here," she said. When he didn't close
his eyes, she sighed. "Then eat
something. The rolls are still good,
barely."
"You ate?"
"And you should
too."
His stomach protested the
idea. "Not hungry."
"Then close your
eyes. Sleep. I'll watch over you."
He kissed the top of her
head. "You're brave."
She pulled away, looked at
him, meeting his eyes. "No, I'm
not. I haven't been." She looked down. "How many times have I had a chance to
do something and I didn't take it?"
He frowned. "To do what?"
"Fight him. Distract him.
I don't know."
He smoothed back her
hair. "You did try. I remember that."
"I never tried
again."
"Maybe that's not your
role here? Maybe it's your job to get
out of here? To bring him to
justice?" He looked away. "Once I'm dead."
"Don't talk like that." There was something wild and haunted in her
eyes. "I don't want to hear you
talking like that."
He closed his eyes. Pretended to sleep and then yawned as he felt
his body relaxing, giving in to sleep for real.
Her hand traced patterns on his
back and she whispered, "Spock will find us, Jim. He will."
Kirk nodded, but in his heart
he knew that Spock would only find one of them alive. He would only find her.
If she was lucky and Alesson
didn't kill her too.
---------------------------
Chapel paced the cell, trying
not to make any noise as she walked.
Unwilling to wake Kirk, but antsy, sure that Alesson would come in at
any moment. She'd been up for hours, walking,
moving, trying to do anything but sit and think. She'd run through human anatomy, Vulcan
anatomy, and was now moving on to Andorian anatomy.
"Christine?"
She turned, saw Kirk struggle
to his feet and head for the part of the cell they used as a latrine. "Turn around."
She did as he ordered, tried
not to notice how bad the cell smelled, how bad they smelled. She pulled at her dress; it was stained with
his fluids and some of her own.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'll live." He said it almost defiantly. "You can turn around."
She did, watched him walk to
the trough, scoop out some water. It was
no longer fresh, in fact, they should probably be worried about what might be
growing in it.
He sighed, looked over at the
roll, which at this point was more like a rock.
"Is that still safe to eat?"
She nodded. "I think so. If you don't mind a little mold? But soak it first. You'll break a tooth on it otherwise."
He grabbed the roll, dusting
the dirt and mold off before soaking it in the water, then biting gingerly into
it. "Terrible," he said with a
grimace.
"Better than
nothing."
He shrugged, his concession
to the inevitable, she supposed.
He met her eyes, then his
gaze traveled down to her neck, to the bruises he had put there. "What I did...if I hurt you..."
"You didn't. Not permanently." She smiled.
He shook his head and looked
away.
She walked over to him, knelt
down. The last remnant of her panty hose
split as she did so and she sighed.
"Quite the attractive pair we are."
He smiled slightly, tugging
at his ruined shirt. "Yes, very
pretty." He pulled the shirt off
and tossed it on the ground.
"Even beat up, you're
still the golden boy." She shook
her head, dug her fingers through the hair she had long since let out of its
intricate bun. It was hopelessly tangled. "I doubt I can claim that."
"You look
good." He touched her knee. "Threadbare but good." He turned his hand over, palm up.
She took it, felt him
squeeze. He didn't say anything, just
held on to her.
"I'm sorry," she
said. "What he did to you--"
He held up his other hand,
his lips twisting. She shut up, settled
for holding on tight to him. Kirk let
her hand go, moved closer to her and pulled her down to sit against him, his
arms coming around her. His skin was
warm against hers. At least Alesson kept
the place heated. Probably didn't want
to risk losing his prize to shock.
Kirk's arms tightened around
her. Somehow she knew that he was trying
to comfort himself as much as her. She
felt his face on her hair, and she turned slightly, wrapping her arms around
him and holding him.
Neither of them said a word
for a long time. Then he pulled away.
"Where is he?" Kirk
asked
"He hasn't been here at
all."
"How long have you been
awake?"
She looked away. "Long enough to know he hasn't been here
at all."
He touched her cheek. "You don't have to watch over me."
"What else am I good
for? I'm the witness." She spat the word out, sick to death of being
the observer.
He sighed. "Being the witness may save your damn
life, Chris."
She smiled. "My mom used to call me that."
"Do you mind if I
do?"
She shook her head. "Not at all, sir. It sounds nice. Nobody calls me that anymore."
"Call me Jim. You did earlier."
"Jim." She smiled.
"Not many people get to call you that."
He looked away. "I know."
"Do you ever get
lonely?"
"I'm human, aren't
I?"
She laughed. "Oh, yes. You're very human." She touched his hand, tracing the veins. Blue veins on pale pinky skin. Human.
Not a Vulcan. Not an android
pretending to be human.
Kirk slowly drew his hand
away.
She looked up. "Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that."
"Shhh." His look was infinitely gentle. "You may not have meant anything, Chris,
but I'm feeling a bit vulnerable right now."
She could feel her face redden.
"Stupid, isn't
it?" He laughed bitterly. "They were just dreams."
She looked at him, suddenly
understanding what he was saying.
"So, you weren't aroused, just now?
You were afraid?"
"I prefer wary. And you might not want to make sweeping assumptions
on the aroused part." He seemed to
shudder slightly. "How many hours
was I under that dream thing's spell?
Five? Six?"
"A lot more than that, I
think."
He nodded. "I keep seeing...things. Hearing...things. Me, the person I was with. Always hurting. Always pain."
She swallowed hard. "They were just dreams."
"Dreams that wouldn't
end. Dreams that follow me now into
sleep. That I can't shake even when I'm
awake." He wrapped his arms around
his body, seemed to pull away from her even though he had not moved.
"I'm sorry. I know I can't understand what it was
like."
"No, you
can't." He sounded tired,
snappish.
She didn't push it. Turned away.
"I'm tired too."
"I know."
She heard him scoot over to her,
felt him urge her down to lie on her side.
He followed her, pulling her against him, her back to his chest. He felt warm.
Warm and solid next to her.
How long had it been since
she'd slept like this with a man? Had it
been since Roger--the real Roger? Had it
been years since she'd been touched?
Too long. Too damned long.
"Sleep," he
whispered, his arm wrapping around her waist, coming to rest just under her
breasts. His touch might have been lewd,
but it wasn't, instead it felt comforting, made her feel more secure.
She closed her eyes. "Maybe he'll never come back."
"Maybe," Kirk
agreed.
It was too much to hope for,
and she knew they both realized it. But
it was a nice thought to go to sleep by.
------------------------
Kirk listened to Chapel
breathe, waiting for Alesson to interrupt them, to bring back the pain and the
fear. He didn't want to admit it to her,
but he was afraid to relax, afraid to let down his guard.
Afraid that the minute he
did, the door would slam open and his enemy would come striding to the cell
door. And it would begin again.
Pain. Humiliation.
Despair.
Kirk took a deep breath,
fighting for control. Felt Chapel tense
in his arms and realized he had woken her up.
"Jim?" She tried to turn, but he held her against
him.
"Don't." Don't look at me, he wanted to tell
her. Don't push me. Don't watch me as I break.
She seemed to understand, lay
still and pressed herself more firmly against him.
He buried his face in her
neck. Just to hold her was a
comfort.
He wondered why Alesson
allowed it.
She sighed and he pulled away
thinking she was uncomfortable.
Her hand on top of his
stopped him. "Don't."
He knew she meant,
"Don't go. Don't leave me. Don't pull away."
He wondered when they had
learned this strange code, where one word could mean so many things.
She shook and he realized she
was crying. "Chris. No."
"I'm so afraid,
Jim. I'm afraid he's going to kill you
and I won't be able to stop him. I won't
even be able to try."
"Shhh." He stroked her hair. "Spock will come through those doors any
moment."
She sniffed. Clearly didn't believe him.
"He will. He'll save us." He closed his eyes. When had he given up on saving them himself?
"You're a good man."
He smiled.
"I mean it. You're a good man. And this shouldn't be happening to
you." She turned in his arms, faced
him.
He wiped her tears away. More took their place.
"You've always been kind
to me," she said.
"It's not hard to be
kind to you."
Her look grew shuttered.
"What?" he asked
softly.
"I think it is hard to
be that way with me."
"Roger wasn't
kind?"
She smiled grimly. "Roger and I had an intellectual
partnership. He was not tender. Not mean but not particularly kind. Cold at times, like Spock." She looked down. "And he treated me like McCoy does
sometimes. As if I didn't matter. As if I didn't exist."
"I can't believe
that. I saw how he was with you. The android Roger, I mean. But he was built from the real thing. His memories.
His feelings."
She shook her head. "Memories grown much fonder when he was
the only human among those androids for all those years. Feelings that he never expressed to me until
it was too late, until he was gone and all that was left was a mechanical body
full of longing and delusions."
Kirk didn't know what to say,
didn't know how to make it better.
She looked up at him. "In all my life, I've never felt this
comfortable with someone." She
shook her head again. "What does
that say about me?" She began to
cry again. "What does it say that I
can just stand by and watch while he hurts you?
When you've been kind to me.
You've always been kind to me."
"Shhh." He pulled her close, let her cry. Almost wished he could allow himself the same
release. "You have no choice. You have to make it out of here. He'll kill me but he very well might let you
go. Don't do anything to jeopardize
that. That's an order, Chris."
She looked up at him, an
unexpected spark of defiance in her eyes.
"I won't let you die. Not if
it's in my power to stop it."
He smiled sadly, brushed her
hair back. "It won't be. But I appreciate the sentiment."
She looked away from
him. "We'll see."
------------------------
The door slammed open and
Chapel felt Kirk pull away from her. He
sat up with a start; she was only a moment behind him.
"Hello." Alesson smiled in a way she thought very
dangerous. He pulled his weapon out,
pointed it at her as he unlocked the door.
"To the shackles, Kirk.
Now."
When Kirk didn't move,
Alesson fired at Chapel. The pain was
worse than before; she fell back to the dirt, body convulsing in pain. She tried not to scream, tried not to give
Alesson what he wanted. She resisted for
mere moments, then her screams filled the room.
He fired on her forever. She gave up hoping it would stop. But it finally did. She rolled over, coughing hard, unable to
catch her breath.
Kirk was there, touched her
shoulder. "Chris?"
She couldn't get any words
out, was fighting just to breathe.
"Chris?"
"She'll be fine,
Kirk. Now get to the shackles. Or I'll hurt her again."
Kirk stood, walked past her.
"Jim, no."
He didn't stop, just walked
away from her as she pushed herself up, fighting to stay upright. She heard the sound of the shackles closing.
"Come out, my
dear." Alesson walked away from the
cell. "I told you that you would be
involved in this stage."
She pushed herself up slowly,
fighting vertigo and muscles that wanted to cramp. She took a step, then another. Into the main room to where Alesson stood.
He had his weapon trained on
her.
She grabbed one of the tables
for support. "What do you want from
me?"
"You've been such an
outstanding angel of mercy. It's only
right that you now get to play the angel of death." He gestured to a hypospray that sat on the
table. "It's poison. Quite instantaneous. He'll barely feel it." He smiled.
"You must give it to him."
She pulled her hand away,
took a few steps back.
"Tell her, Kirk. Tell her to do it." Alesson laughed, the sound was bitter, as if
he was not happy with how things were going.
"As you suspected, I've been watching your touching private
moments. And you weren't far wrong when you told her that your Vulcan friend
would be coming through those doors at any minute. We have more time than that, but not much
more." He walked over to Kirk. "I'll let her go. But you know the price. You've always known the price. You, the man who never gives up, are going to
have to surrender. If you want her to live."
"Jim, no."
"I'll kill her first if
you prefer. She can die at my hand, her
screams loud in your ears. And then
you'll die too. Is that what you
want? Is that how you'll repay her for
her kindness?"
"Don't listen to
him," she said.
"Chris. Come here." Kirk's voice was pure command. No hesitation at all. Ordering her.
Ordering her to come to him.
Ordering her to kill him.
"No." She backed farther away.
"Chris, get the
hypospray and come here."
Alesson backed away. Out of Kirk's range. Far from her too. He kept the weapon trained on her.
"Chris,
please." Kirk's voice was less
sure, rigid, tortured. As if she was
making this hard on him. Harder than it
had to be.
She sobbed. Took the few steps back to the table, grabbed
the hypospray. The metal felt cold in
her hands. Cold and dangerous and
impersonal. No way to bring death. No way to snuff out such a bright light.
A light the universe
needed.
She walked to Kirk. Her eyes locked with his and she said softly,
"Not if it's in my power to stop it."
His eyes widened. "Chris.
No."
She slammed the hypospray
home. Into her own arm. Then she smiled at him. "I'm tired of watching. This is something I can do."
The poison burned as it went
in. She felt dizzy, lost her balance and
collapsed onto the floor.
"Chris!" Kirk thrashed above her, trying to get out of
the shackles.
She felt a tugging pain in
her chest, clutched at her throat, trying to breathe.
"Oh, that's
wonderful." Alesson ignored the
furious Kirk, knelt down beside her.
"Did I say it was instantaneous?
I must have been confused."
He helped her sit up. "It's
actually quite slow acting. He'll have
ample time to watch you die."
"No," she said, as
despair filled her.
"Oh, yes, my
dear." He smiled almost tenderly at
her. "I've upgraded you from
spectator to pawn." He looked up at
Kirk. "One that I'll sacrifice because
it hurts you."
She jammed the hypospray
against his arm, let whatever poison remained in the instrument flow into his
body. She only hoped it would be enough
to take him with her.
He just laughed. "I took the antidote before I came
in. Did you think I would risk you using
the poison against me?"
He pushed her away. Pulled his weapon back up. "Get him down. Go back to the cell."
She just stared up at
him. "You wanted me to do
this...why?" she asked, hating how helpless she sounded. How weak.
"Watching you die for
him now that the two of you have gotten so close? Why, what greater torture could there
be?" Alesson stepped away. "You should work on your self-esteem in
the time you have left, Christine. Don't
you realize that you're the reason he keeps fighting?"
She pushed herself up, the
pain in her chest enough to make her move very slowly but not getting
worse. Not yet.
She reached up to release
Kirk's shackles, grimaced in pain as the movement sent a wave of pain down her
arms, and into her back. "I'm
sorry. I thought I was--"
"--Shhh." He pulled her to him, helped her back to the
cell.
Kirk eased her down to the
dirt floor, then he turned to Alesson.
"You mentioned the antidote on purpose."
"Very quick,
Kirk." Alesson smiled. "There may be a way for you to win
it." He laughed. "I'll be back later. When she's in more pain. Oh, and in case you haven't figured it out,
your Mister Spock is still chasing will-o-wisps some distance from
here." He laughed, and the mocking
sound seemed to echo in the room long after he was gone.
"He played me,"
Chapel said, unable to meet Kirk's eyes.
"He played us
both." He knelt down next to
her. "How can I help?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure you can. We don't know what he meant by slow
acting. Hours? Days?"
She forced herself to look at him.
"I'm sorry."
He sighed. Pulled her close, tried to make her
comfortable. "I'll get you that
antidote."
"It's just more games,
Jim."
"I know. But I'll get it for you anyway."
She had never heard him sound
more certain about anything.
Kirk sat quietly, trying not to
wake Chapel as she lay with her head in his lap. For once, he hoped that Alesson would show
up, would give him a chance to make things better. Just the hope of it...he'd take just the hope
of helping her.
She moaned and he dipped the
rag he'd torn from what remained of his uniform shirt in the trough, squeezed
it out, then wiped her damp forehead and cheeks.
She opened her eyes. He wondered if she had slept at all. Her face tightened and she tried to
shift. Tears welled in her eyes, and he
closed his eyes at such a visible sign of the pain she was in.
Pain that was only going to
get worse.
Pain that he blamed himself
for. He should have known what she was
going to do. Should have realized that
they were being manipulated. That her
very presence in the cell was to bring him down, to make him suffer more when
she was gone. He imagined his death
would not be quick or anytime soon.
Alesson would want to let him suffer.
Alone. Guilty.
"Jim?"
"Hmm?" He forced his features into something less
angry, less gravely concerned. Less full
of hopelessness.
"I'm thirsty."
He scooped some water,
dribbled it into her mouth.
"More?"
She nodded, then grimaced at
the motion.
He gave her more water, then
stroked her hair, trying to help her relax.
She closed her eyes and he thought she had dropped off. He touched her cheek, letting his hand drift
over the planes of her cheekbones, to touch her lips. He shook his head, looked away.
She moaned, awake again, or
never asleep to begin with. "I'm
sorry," she whispered.
"What are you sorry
for?"
"Everything." She blinked hard and a tear worked its way
loose, trailed down her cheek. "You
would have been better off with anyone else."
He smiled softly, wiped her
cheek. "That's not true."
"I can't fight."
"You have a gentle
touch." He shrugged, careful to
keep the movement from jarring her.
"You can learn to fight.
Security runs classes."
She smiled sadly. Didn't respond.
He stroked her hair
again. "What else do you want to do
with your future?"
She looked away. "I don't have one, Jim. I can't pretend that--"
He briefly touched his hand
to her lips. "Stop it, Chris. It's not pretend. It's faith.
In the future. In our
future. Alive, back on the
Enterprise. Out of here."
She sighed.
"Do you see your future
on the Enterprise? You've stayed on, but
your search for Roger is long over."
She nodded. "Yes.
Long over. Too long." Her expression became remote, as if she was
seeing into the future. "I'd like
to finish my degree."
"Your MD?"
"Yes."
He nodded. "When we get back, you should
apply."
"I missed the
deadline." She saw his look and
smiled slightly. "I think about
doing it all the time. I just never do
it." She shook her head. "I'm an observer even in my own
life."
"You don't have to
be."
He stopped stroking her hair,
and she leaned into his hand, pressing against him like a cat asking to be
petted. He smiled, moved his hand down
her hair again and heard her sigh. He felt
a rush of tenderness for her, knew it was exactly what Alesson had planned for
him to feel as soon as Kirk had called Chapel down from the ship and into this
nightmare. But he couldn't push the
feeling away just because he knew he'd been manipulated into opening up to
her.
He had opened up to her, and
she to him. They were connected
now. No matter what happened, he knew
neither of them would ever be the same again.
And no one would understand what they had gone through.
"You're so sweet,"
she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"I never knew that."
He smiled. "Don't let it get around. It'll ruin my tough guy image."
His smile faded. Some tough guy. A tough guy wouldn't be afraid to sleep,
wouldn't feel a shiver at the thought of dreaming.
A tough guy would have gotten
them out of this.
Her hand came up to rest on
his. Their eyes met and he wondered if
she could tell what he was thinking.
There seemed to be infinite compassion in her expression. Forgiveness for them both.
"I'm glad it's
you," he whispered.
She nodded, then gasped as
another wave of pain seemed to crash over her.
It lasted longer than the others, took more time for her to relax.
He took a deep breath. Fought off his impatience. Alesson was watching them. He'd come when he was ready. And Kirk had to be ready for him.
To do what, he had no
idea. But knowing Alesson, it wouldn't
be pleasant.
-------------------------
Chapel moved and pain roared
through her body, ending up as a searing flash in her head. She closed her eyes, tried not to groan. She knew Kirk was worried about her, didn't
want him to see how much worse the pain had become.
But then another wave took
her, more intense than before, and she cried out before she could clamp down on
the sound.
"Chris." He was out of words. Just said her name every time she groaned or
called out.
"I'm all right,"
she tried to say, but the words came out garbled, even to her.
"Shhh," he
said. "Just be still."
She wished she could be. She wished that she could turn over without
pain, or close her eyes and fall asleep.
She felt nearly sick with her need for sleep, but the pain kept her
awake, kept her from doing more than drowsing.
She had expected Alesson to
show up, to torment them, mock her pain and make Kirk humiliate himself for the
antidote. But he had not come. She began to wonder if there even was an
antidote. She briefly fantasized that
Alesson was lying sick too, from the poison she'd injected him with, dying
alone just outside the door. He'd die
and then she'd die and then Kirk would be left in the cell, alone.
Alone with her dead
body. She wondered if Alesson would drag
her corpse out when she was dead. Or
would he leave her there to rot, to torment his enemy.
"Chris," Kirk lay
down next to her, careful not to jar her.
He wiped off her face, his touch gentle, his mouth set in a firm
line.
He was not giving up. She wished he would. She was tired of keeping up the act. Tired of pretending that she believed they'd
be rescued.
The outside door opened and
Kirk jerked. He rolled away from her,
went to the cell door.
"Eager to see me, I
imagine." Alesson held a
hypospray. "I bet you can guess
what's in here."
Kirk moved toward him.
Alesson nodded. "You realize you have to win it."
"Jim. No."
It hurt her to talk.
And it had no effect; Kirk
kept moving away from her.
"What do you want me to
do?" he asked.
Alesson smiled. "Tell her about that day. The day you murdered my wife and
children. The day you rained fire down
on us." He leaned forward. "Tell her the truth. The truth you've probably never even admitted
to yourself."
Kirk's lips tightened.
Alesson shrugged, put the
hypospray back in his pocket. "I
guess your reputation is more important to you than she is." He started to walk away.
"No!"
"Let him go, Jim."
Alesson turned back. "Tell her the truth about that
day."
Kirk turned to her; she saw
something haunted in his eyes, before he seemed to steel himself. "I was younger than. Not as experienced."
"Ah, the excuses
start."
Kirk shook his head
slowly. "Not excuses. Just background. I was overeager maybe." Alesson made a noise of disgust and Kirk said
quickly, "I was overeager. No maybe
about it. I ordered the attack on the
compound. We used too much
force." He looked down. "I didn't know that the weapons were
stockpiled. Our intelligence didn't
include that fact. And you had them
behind shields. We didn't know."
"We?"
Kirk sighed. "I didn't know. I ordered too much firepower. The compound went up...too fast, much too
fast."
"So, whose fault is it
that my wife is dead? That she was
burned to death in the conflagration you called down?"
"Mine," Kirk said
softly.
"Louder!"
"Mine!" Kirk
yelled. "It's my damned fault that
she's dead. Are you happy? Does that make you happy?" He pointed at Chapel. "She had nothing to do with it,
Alesson. Nothing. And you torture her despite knowing
that. What I did was an accident, but
what you do is on purpose. That makes
you worse than me."
Chapel smiled, was glad that
Kirk was fighting back, even if it wasn't going to win them any points with
their tormentor.
"No, Kirk. Unlike you, I'm a merciful man. I'm willing to give her what she needs. If you beg me for it."
Kirk sank to his knees. "I beg you."
Alesson raised an eyebrow,
seemed amused. "Hardly
heartfelt."
"I beseech you,"
Kirk said, the words still sounding forced.
"Try harder."
"Jim. No more."
Kirk looked back at her. "She helped you. She touched you and healed you." He looked at Alesson. "She moved you; I saw how you looked at
her."
"That was just interest
in my new toy."
"She's a good
person. Better than you and I. Not
involved in what we do. Not a fighter
but a healer. We need people like
Christine Chapel. We can't afford to
kill them. Without them, we'd have no
reason to strive...to be better than we are.
Without them, we truly become animals, no mitigating presence in our
lives."
"She's not in my life,
Kirk. She's in yours. And not for much longer if you can't be more
convincing than that."
"Please?" Kirk closed his eyes. "Please?
I beg you." His voice
trailed off.
"I'm just not
moved."
"Go away, Alesson,"
Chapel managed to say, even though the words seemed to rip through her lungs,
pain searing her throat and mouth with each syllable. "Let me die in peace. He'll never beg enough to make you
happy. He's not capable of it, and I'm
glad he's not."
"She'd rather die than
have you beg further. Speaks even though
it hurts her." Alesson stepped
closer. "I find her argument
compelling. Here."
Kirk opened his hands, caught
the hypospray as Alesson dropped it into his hands.
He hurried to her, laid the
hypo against her arm. There was a hiss,
but no tingle, no feeling of liquid being aerosolized and forced into her
skin.
"Empty." She shook her head slightly. "More games, Jim."
Kirk tore the hypospray
open. There was no canister inside.
"Oh, did I forget
this?" Alesson was holding up a
glass vial, in his other hand he held his weapon. "The last dose I have. I should be careful. This glass is very brittle." He held the vial out, waited for Kirk to come
near him. Then he dropped the vial just
before Kirk reached for it.
The glass shattered on the
hard dirt floor.
She could only see Kirk's
face from the side, but his jaw tensed, his lips tightened and he launched
himself at Alesson.
Alesson fired.
But Kirk didn't fall
down. With a scream that seemed equal
parts rage and pain he flew into the bars, reached through, grabbing Alesson's
hand and forcing it back, turning the weapon against him.
Then it was Alesson who
screamed.
Chapel forced herself up,
ignoring the pain as she watched Kirk holding down Alesson's finger over the
trigger. Alesson fought hard, trying to
shake Kirk loose but he couldn't. He
screamed again, short bursts of anguish and then one long scream as Kirk did
not let up.
A few minutes later, Alesson
quit fighting, his legs jerked and Kirk caught him and pulled him closer to the
bars, wrenching the gun away, still firing.
Alesson went limp. But Kirk didn't stop the beam. He didn't stop until much, much later, when
the weapon ran out of charge. Even then
he kept his hand on the trigger, didn't let go of his enemy but sank to the
ground with him, pushing the weapon against Alesson's head.
Chapel forced herself to
crawl to him. She bit back a cry as the
motion set her nerves screaming.
"He's dead, Jim. Let him go
now. You killed him. Just like you said you would."
He looked over at her, his
eyes blank, no recognition. Then he
seemed to come back from whatever place his rage had sent him. He let go of Alesson, ran his hand down her
cheek. "I said I'd get you the antidote."
She looked down at the
shattered glass. "It may not be an
antidote. It could just be water."
"It's the
antidote," Kirk said stubbornly. He
began to rifle through Alesson's pockets until he found the key to the cell and
opened the door. Kicking Alesson's body
out of his way, he went to the table near the shackles, where the hypospray had
been, began to rummage around.
When he came back to her, he
had a small container in his hand. He
crouched down, picked up the bottom of the vial, where a small amount of liquid
remained and put it in the container, sealing the top. "Bones will be able to make
more." He helped her up. "Can you walk?"
She wasn't sure she could,
but found herself nodding.
He smiled. It was a scary expression, as if he were not
quite back yet. As if he were still
firing at Alesson. "I'll help
you. We're going to make it, Chris. You have to hold on."
Pain erupted again as he
pulled her to her feet but she didn't cry out.
He supported her as they walked out of the cell, over to the table. She held on while he looked through the rest
of the drawers. He found another weapon
in one, their communicators in another.
"Kirk to
Enterprise."
There was nothing.
"Shielded," she
croaked.
He nodded grimly, helped her
out the door and into a plain hallway. A
long, steep flight of stairs was the only way out.
He tried the communicators
again. Nothing. "We have to go up."
She felt all her strength
ebbing. "I can't."
"You can, and you
will. That's an order, Nurse
Chapel."
She felt stung, tried to
straighten up.
He held on to her. "I'll help you, Chris. We'll make it together."
She nodded, trying to fill
herself with faith and determination. It
lasted all of five steps.
--------------------------
Kirk was sweating as he
manhandled Chapel up the staircase. She
was trying to help, but her strength had given out about three quarters of the
way up. He'd have picked her up if he
wasn't afraid that his own strength would give out.
"Jim. Please."
She turned her head, threw up again.
He noticed there was blood
mixed in with the bile.
"Come on, Chris. Just a few more steps."
She sobbed, pushed herself
forward, and he steadied her.
"That's it. That's right."
They finally reached the
top. He eased her down, then pulled out
the weapon, pushing the door open slowly.
There were no guards, no
appearance of activity in what looked like the main floor of a private
dwelling. He hefted Chapel up, helping
her out into the hallway. He pulled out
a communicator. "Kirk to
Enterprise."
As he expected there was
nothing.
Chapel sighed.
"They're out of
range. We need to find a stronger
communicator." He stroked her
hair. "I have to figure out where
we are. Will you be all right alone for
a few minutes?"
She nodded.
He settled her into a chair,
then hurried down the hallway to what looked like the main door. A panel beeped intermittently, and he studied
the readings. It was a shielding mechanism
of some sort. He turned it off. The beeping stopped.
He pushed the door open. Saw that Alesson had moved in across from the
Starfleet outpost. The man had balls,
he'd give him that.
He hurried across the street,
startling the same lieutenant who had been on duty the day he disappeared.
"Sir? But we thought--"
"No time. I have a critically ill officer. Can you hail the Enterprise?"
"Yes, sir. They're on their way back. Shall I call a medic too?"
"Yes. I'm across the street, I'll leave the door
open."
"You've been across the
street this whole time?" The man
was clearly confused.
"It doesn't matter,
Lieutenant. Tell the Enterprise maximum
warp. I need them here now!" Kirk ran back across the street, was nearly
run down by a local transport as he did so.
He ignored the driver's angry
yells, tore up the stairs and back into the house. He hurried down the hall, afraid that he'd
find Chris dead.
She wasn't. She looked up as he ran toward her.
"Help is on the
way." He smiled at her, was
disheartened at how much effort it took for her to nod. He knelt in front of her. "Maybe I should have left you down
there. The stairs were too much..."
She flinched. "No."
He couldn't stand the thought
of her lying there next to Alesson either.
"No," he agreed.
"You're strong, Chris. You'll
get through this. You eat all those
vegetables, remember?"
She smiled slightly. "I don't."
He shook his head. "Just the standard lecture,
huh?" He ran his hand down her
hair. It was matted and dirty, and he
wondered if she would be able to work out the knots or if she'd have to cut it
off.
He heard a strange wailing,
realized it was some sort of emergency siren.
Several medics came up the stairs, running down the hall toward
them.
They had a transport gurney
but he waved that off. "My ship is
on the way. Is there anything you can do
for her now?"
One of the medics scanned
her. "She's dehydrated." He turned to his partner. "We need fluids. Type 5-4b." He saw Kirk's frown, smiled gently. "Human, sir."
Kirk nodded.
The other medic attached a
drip mechanism to her arm.
"I've been
poisoned," Chapel said, each word a struggle. "It's systemic, slow-acting. Loss of motor--"
The medic laid a gentle hand
on hers. "It's all right,
ma'am. I can see what's going
on." He scanned some more. "I can help you with the
pain." He reached into his bag,
brought out a hypospray, filled it with a combination of things. At her look, he nodded gently. "Don't worry, this won't sedate
you."
Chapel nodded. As he sprayed the mixture into her arm, her
face relaxed. She smiled up at Kirk.
"Spock to Kirk."
Kirk flipped the communicator
open. He'd never been happier to hear
Spock's voice. "Kirk here."
"Sir, I am extremely
gratified to know you are all right. I
assume Miss Chapel is the critically ill officer?"
"That's right. I need you here at once. Poison.
I have the antidote"--he saw Chapel shake her head--"possible
antidote. McCoy should be able to
synthesize it."
"We should be there in
twelve point five minutes."
"As fast as you can. Kirk out."
The medics stood. "That's all we can do for her, sir. We'll stay here until your ship
arrives."
"Check him out
too," Chapel ordered.
Kirk was amused that neither
medic argued with her, just began to scan him.
"He's probably
dehydrated too," she said.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Doctor," Kirk
whispered and she smiled slightly. As
soon as she was out of the woods, he'd make a call to Starfleet Medical. See what strings he could pull. Or get McCoy to use his contacts. Maybe that would be better.
The medic fixed a fluid drip
to his arm, it stung at first where it was attached, then the anesthetic kicked
in.
"Sir, I don't think I
want to know what you've been through."
The medic glanced over at Chapel and she shook her head in
agreement. "Are you in pain?"
"I'm fine."
"You need rest. Both of you do."
"He won't rest,"
Chapel said, sharing a long look with the medic.
"Gotcha." He reached into his bag, began to mix up a
hypo.
"No meds," Kirk
said.
"It's just an immune
system enhancer, sir. And a vitamin
supplement."
Chapel nodded. "It'll keep you going."
Kirk nodded, let the medic
inject him.
The man smiled, said softly,
"She's strong. And she has
you. That's important."
Kirk smiled, unaccountably
touched by the man's words. After Alesson's
cruelty, the gentleness of these strangers threatened to undo him.
Chapel touched his hand,
smiled in a way that let him know she understood what he was feeling. Kirk nodded, squeezing her hand very gently,
afraid he'd hurt her. He watched as the
medics cleared their things, moving a discreet distance away.
The first one brought a chair
over. "You'll be more comfortable
in this, sir."
"Thanks." Kirk pulled the chair close to Chapel's, took
her hands. "The pain is
better?"
She nodded.
"They'll be here soon,
Chris."
"Thank you." Tears welled in her eyes.
He leaned in, touched her
cheeks, wiping the tears away as they fell.
"For what?"
"For killing him. For making it stop."
"I wish I could have
done it sooner."
"Doesn't matter when you
did it, just that you did it." She
leaned back, closed her eyes. Seemed to
find it harder to breathe.
Hurry, Spock, Kirk
implored. Please hurry.
Chapel was fading in and out
of consciousness. She felt Kirk's hand
on hers, could feel the hiss of a hypo as the medic gave her another dose of
painkiller.
Then she heard Spock's voice
again. She groaned as Kirk drew his hand
away.
She tried to concentrate,
could only make out a few words.
Enterprise. Medical team. Standing by.
Then she felt Kirk gently
pull her to her feet.
"We're going home,
Chris," he whispered, as he held her close, supporting her as the
transporter took them.
A second later, they were in
the transporter room. She saw Spock step
up to the pad, felt his hands on her as he helped Kirk move her. Heard McCoy say, "Where's the
antidote?"
"Probably not. Just a trick," she muttered, not sure if
anyone heard her.
Kirk said fiercely,
"It's the antidote."
"We'll find out."
The room began to spin and
the corners of her vision became dark and blurry. She looked up at Spock. "He's hurt too. Don't let him..."
Then the world went black.
She woke again in sickbay, the
room was darkened and she was afraid for a moment that she was going
blind. She tried to move, realized they
had restrained her. She began to fight,
pain overwhelming her as she did so. She
faded in and out, felt hands on her, soft voices begging her to be still.
She tried to breathe,
couldn't get in any air. Coughed, the
action only bringing more pain. But no
air. She coughed again.
"Just hold still,
Christine," McCoy said.
She tried not to gag. Felt him stick a clearing tube in. She nearly threw up as it hit the back of her
throat, clearing away blood and mucus.
Her head flared with pain and
she pulled away. The tube was pulled out
of her mouth and she breathed deeply.
Then the pain in her head intensified and she cried out.
Kirk leaned in again. "Shhh, Chris. It's all right."
"Here, you do
this," McCoy told someone.
M'Benga? Or one of her
nurses? "I have to check on the
antidote."
She tried not to move, tried
not to make the pain in her head worse by shifting. Her throat sealed up again and she was lifted
up, the tube used. She gagged, nearly
threw up again.
It was harder to
breathe. She moaned. She could hear the biobed readings
dropping. Pulse, respiration, everything
dangerously low.
She wanted to give up, to let
go. Would have, if Kirk hadn't been
there, urging her to fight.
But even that couldn't hold
her forever. The readings were
whispers. She wanted to quit
fighting. She was so tired.
"Can you help her,
Spock?"
"I can try," Spock
said. Then he was hovering over her, his
hands reaching for her face.
"No," she tried to
pull away.
"He won't hurt you,
Chris." Kirk smoothed her hair
back.
She relaxed at the familiar
feel of his hand on her.
"Jim?"
"I'm here." He leaned in.
"It was the antidote, Chris.
McCoy is making more now. It
won't be long. But you have to hold
on."
The world went black again
and she cried out.
Then she felt his hand on her
hair again, thought she felt his lips on her cheek.
"Spock is going to help
you. You have to let him. Will you let him?"
Her vision cleared and she
saw them both, so close. She was
breathing hard, pain rising in her chest with each breath.
"Do it, Spock."
Spock's hands touched her
face. They felt hot against her already
clammy skin. She tried to get away, felt
his fingers pressing against her cheek.
She cried out.
Then she felt his mind,
trying to reach hers. Gentle and
concerned. He wanted to help her. For Kirk's sake. And for her own. His mind overwhelmed hers, and she let go,
let him lead her somewhere dark and quiet.
The pain lessened and she lay still.
"Yes, that's it. Just rest." Kirk's voice was soft.
She smiled. "Jim." Felt the word echo in Spock's voice deep in
her mind. They both loved him so. She smiled.
Tried to thank Spock. Sensed him
telling her no thanks were needed.
"Rest," Kirk
said.
Spock's mindvoice reinforced
the suggestion.
She let the blackness take
her.
-----------------------
"I hope it's not too
late," McCoy said as he injected Chapel with the hypo.
Kirk paced, looking at Spock
who shook his head slowly. Kirk didn't
want to ask if that meant the Vulcan thought she had time, or that she'd run
out. Spock frowned, then moved his other
hand to Chapel's face.
"No," Spock
whispered. "Stay."
Chapel thrashed under the
restraints, as if in some kind of weird reaction to the antidote.
"Bones?"
McCoy shook his head
helplessly. "She may be too far
gone."
Spock tried to hold her head
still as she moved, managed to maintain the meld.
She finally lay still. Breathing heavily but something in her face
looked better.
"Yes, relax. Sleep now." Spock slowly pulled his hands away from her.
McCoy watched the readings on
the biobed. They were all heading upward. "It's working."
Kirk sagged into the chair by
the bed. "Thank god." He suddenly felt overwhelmed, took a deep
breath, then another.
Alesson hadn't won.
"I killed him," he
said, looking up at Spock. "The man
who took us."
"Yes, Jim, I know. I sent a team down to search the house you
were held in. They found surveillance
video; I had it transferred to the Enterprise."
Kirk nodded.
"The man who took
you? Who was he?"
"An old enemy. His name was Alesson."
Spock waited, seemed to
accept that Kirk wasn't going to say more.
"They found traces of DNA--more than just yours and Miss
Chapel's--in his basement."
"Larkins probably. And others.
He practiced..." Kirk closed
his eyes.
"We will try to find out
who they were. Notify their next of
kin."
Kirk nodded. Then he yawned, a huge yawn. He could feel his eyes drooping.
McCoy nodded at Spock. The two of them walked over to him, pulled
him from the chair and led him to the next bed.
"She will recover,"
Spock said.
"Now, you have to
rest." McCoy watched as the biobed
began to record his readings.
"No, she still needs
me."
"I will stay with her
until you wake," Spock said.
"You need sleep as much
as she does," McCoy said, as he pumped a hypo into Kirk's arm. "This is just a light sedative. It will help you relax."
Kirk saw McCoy lift the
restraints, began to panic, suddenly back in shackles, waiting for Alesson to
move on him. "No!"
"It's okay,
Jim." McCoy dropped the restraints,
grabbed for another hypo and shot him with it.
"This will help you sleep.
Just for a while. No restraints,
I promise."
Kirk saw Spock and McCoy
trade looks. He turned, saw Chapel
sleeping too. "Chris," he said
softly, reaching out to her before finally surrendering to sleep.
-----------------------
Chapel rolled over, felt a
tug of discomfort as she did so. She
slowly opened her eyes, took a tentative breath, realized it didn't hurt to
inhale.
"Are you feeling
better?"
She turned. Saw Spock sitting by her bed. "Jim?"
Spock motioned to the next
bed.
"You had to sedate
him?" She smiled slightly.
Spock nodded, looked slightly
amused also. Then his expression grew
more serious. "We were fortunate
that the antidote worked. You nearly
died."
She nodded, taking another
deep breath. She grimaced. "I smell like I died."
His eyebrow rose. "You have been through a lot."
"I know what you did for
me. Thank you."
He nodded.
They sat quietly for a few
minutes. Then he leaned forward. "I have watched the video. I know what happened in that
basement." His face clouded.
Chapel thought of the dream
channeler, how prominent a role Spock had played in that, even if only in
Kirk's mind. "Then you saw how
brave he was."
"I saw how brave you both
were."
"It was hell,
Spock." She smiled wryly. "Made the Platonians look like
amateurs."
"Yes."
She was distracted by the
sound of Kirk calling out; he thrashed a bit, then sat up with a loud,
"No!"
"Jim?" Both she and Spock said it at once.
"I'm fine. Just a dream." He saw her concern, looked away for a
moment. He was breathing hard, and she
saw a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Not a dream, a nightmare.
Spock rose slowly as Kirk
stretched, then swung his legs over the bed and eased down.
"Are you all right,
Jim?" he asked.
"I'm fine." Kirk walked stiffly over to her bed. His smile for Spock was warm and welcoming;
it became even more so as he looked down at her. "How are you?"
"I'll be fine," she
said. And for the first time since their
nightmare had begun, it wasn't a lie.
Kirk nodded, then turned to
Spock. "A man of your word, as
ever, Spock. I'm awake. I take it you've been here since you and
Bones ganged up on me."
"I have," Spock
said, making no attempt to defend whatever he and McCoy had done. He looked down at her, then over at
Kirk. "If you will excuse me?"
Chapel smiled at him. "Thank you."
Spock nodded.
Kirk walked to the chair as
Spock moved away. As they passed, he touched
Spock on the arm, then turned back to her, sinking into the chair and smiling,
as if he couldn't believe she was all right.
"You're really okay?"
She nodded. "He didn't win."
"No. He didn't." Kirk leaned in. "He underestimated you."
"I don't know about
that."
He nodded. "I do."
They sat in silence, an easy
silence, filled with nothing. And
everything.
He took her hand, squeezed it
gently.
She squeezed back,
harder. "I won't break."
"I know." His expression darkened.
"You didn't break,
Jim."
He nodded, but something
seemed less assured in the way his shoulders were set, in how he looked away
rather than meet her eye.
"Why don't you go get a
shower? Get back to real life. I'll be fine.
And jealous."
He smiled.
"I don't think I'll ever
be clean again," she said, trying but failing to find a way to breathe
that did not include smelling how ripe her odor had become.
"I know the
feeling," he said, again his expression darkened.
"Go, Jim. You have reports to file, no doubt. And a ship to check on. I'll be here when you get done. Or if I'm lucky, McCoy will release me and I
can shower."
He nodded, stood slowly. Then he leaned down, laid his lips on her
forehead. "I thought you were going
to die."
"You didn't show
it. You kept me here. I was afraid to disappoint you."
He smiled. "You couldn't do that if you
tried."
Their eyes locked and held,
and she reached for his hand again. He
squeezed, hard this time. The touch
comforting, familiar now.
"Go. Get clean.
And eat something," she said, pushing him away.
"Vegetables?"
"Anything you want. Just stay away from moldy rolls."
He laughed, but not very
hard.
"We have to be able to
talk about it, Jim. Repressing what
happened isn't a good idea."
"I know." He gave her hand a final squeeze and left.
She watched the door close
behind him, saw McCoy come out of this office.
She looked over at him.
McCoy smiled, walked over to
her with a glass of light green liquid.
"You gave us quite a scare, darlin'."
"Sorry."
"Even poor Spock was
worried about you." He handed her
the drink. "Supplements. Just what the doctor ordered."
She sniffed. "New flavor?"
"Mint julep."
She laughed.
"Or lemon-lime. I get mixed up." He smiled down at her.
She sipped at it.
"Drink it all,
Christine."
"You're a lot worse than
I am. How about letting a body finish
this in peace?"
"Drink."
She rolled her eyes, but did
as he said. The last bit went down the
wrong way and she began to cough.
He took the glass from her,
put it down then steadied her as she coughed.
When she could finally talk
again, she said, "See, slow is better."
"I stand
corrected," he said.
"When can I go,
Len? I'm dying to get clean."
"You aren't released,
not by a long shot. But you can use the
shower in the break room if you want."
"Really?" She pushed the covers off.
"Slowly. And not a long or particularly hot
shower."
She nodded, let him help her
out the bed. She took a step, expected
to feel weaker than she did. She took
another step, then another. Smiled as
her strength seemed to come back with each new movement.
"You're a hell of a lot
tougher than anyone knows, Christine."
McCoy walked with her to the break room.
"Although I think Spock is deeply aware of that after that
meld. And Jim seemed certain he could
keep you here with us."
"By his will
alone," she said with a smile.
"Will. And maybe something else? The experience down there brought you two a
lot closer?"
She shot him a look, but
there was no condemnation in his expression.
Nor was he trying to pump her for gossip. He looked curious, but more in a professional
way than personal.
"Just ask what you want
to ask."
"Torture's a tricky
thing. And being held captive. A lot of potential problems for both of you,
if we don't work now. He's going to
resist that idea. You may be able to
sway him when the rest of us fail."
She nodded, not surprised at
where he was going. "He's
traumatized. He bore the brunt of
it."
"You're not free of this
either. After all, you're the one who
nearly died."
She nodded. "We both probably need help. But he may not open up."
"Starbase Two is on our
way. I'm going to recommend to Jim that
you both spend some time there. You'll
back that recommendation?"
She nodded. She didn't relish intensive face time with
the counselors. But she understood the
dangers of post-traumatic stress as well as McCoy did. "He won't like it though."
"He doesn't have
to. It's standard policy. And I'm CMO.
And you're my secret weapon."
He handed her a towel and a new gown.
"Go. Get clean. Then back to bed. Understand?"
"Change the sheets on
the bed?" she said with a cajoling smile.
"I'm a doctor not a
chambermaid." When she shot him a
pleading look, he gave a resigned sigh.
"What I do for my friends."
"Thanks, Len."
She waited until he was gone,
then stepped into the small shower room, closing the door and pulling off the
medical gown. She let the sonic shower
work at her. After a while she switched
to water, trying with little success to work out the tangles in her hair.
Finally feeling clean, she
turned the shower off and got dressed.
She tried to get a comb through the ends of her hair, ended up tearing
the knots loose with a few choice swearwords.
She studied her long
hair. When she was released, she'd cut
it off. Maybe go back to her real
color. It had been years since she'd
been a brunette. She walked out of the
break room, saw McCoy in his office.
"I don't suppose you'd call the barber down?"
He shook his head. "When you're all better. Not before."
She made a face at him.
He was not moved. "Go back to bed."
She knew better than to
argue. Plus he was right. She needed sleep. The shower--as lovely as it had felt to get
clean--had tired her out.
She lay down on the bed, was
touched that McCoy had added an extra pillow.
She let her head sink into it, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
-----------------------
Kirk sighed, finally feeling
clean again. He pulled on a new uniform,
and hurried out of his quarters. Sickbay
was quiet when he got there. McCoy
looked up and smiled at him. He motioned
that Chapel was asleep and that Kirk should come over.
"She's all right?"
Kirk asked as he sat down in the chair across from McCoy.
"She will be. How are you?"
"I'm fine." He hurried on, did not want to talk about
what had happened. "Listen, has
Chris ever mentioned going back to med school to you?"
"Sure, every
semester. But she never does it. Why?"
"I think she's ready to
do it. But she's missed the application
deadline, right?"
McCoy nodded.
"You have any contacts
that could help make that deadline a bit softer?"
McCoy leaned back in his
chair. "I suppose so. And I'll be happy to. If she asks me, Jim."
"She will." Kirk smiled.
"Well, she won't be
doing that right away. You know there
are topnotch medical facilities on Starbase Two?"
Kirk frowned. "I thought you said she was going to be
fine?"
"She will be. You both will be. But as part of the healing process, you need
to see the counselors at Starbase Two."
Kirk could feel himself
shutting down. Hadn't Alesson screwed
with his head enough? Did he now have to
open himself to some Starfleet headshrinker's questions? "I don't think that's necessary,
Bones." He stood up. "But I appreciate your
concern." He began to walk out of
the office.
"It wasn't a suggestion,
Jim."
Kirk froze.
"It's an
order."
Kirk turned around, could
feel his mouth twisting. "You
can't--"
"I can and you damn well
know I can." McCoy stood up. "Now, do you want to inform Chekov of
our change in heading, or shall I?"
Kirk stared at McCoy, as if
he could make his old friend back down under his glare.
He should have known better.
"Fine, I will,"
McCoy said with a resigned shake of his head.
"I will." Kirk walked to the communications console,
slapped the button down. "Kirk to
Chekov."
"Chekov here, sir."
"A small course
revision, Mister Chekov. New heading to
Starbase Two." He saw McCoy raise
an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of the order.
"Mister Sulu, warp five."
"Aye, sir." Chekov
and Sulu responded together.
"Kirk out." He backed away from McCoy, wouldn't look at
him.
"I'm sorry, Jim. It's for your own good."
Kirk didn't reply, just
walked out to the ward area, taking the chair next to Chapel's bed. It took him a moment to realize she was awake
and watching him.
"Starbase Two,
huh?"
"You knew?" he
asked.
She nodded. "Post-traumatic stress is--"
"--Don't you start on me
too." He got up, began to pace.
"Jim, you were having a
nightmare. I saw you wake up from
it."
"So? A nightmare.
Everyone has one now and then."
"What was it
about?" She met his gaze calmly.
"Nothing. Just nightmare stuff." He walked back to the bed.
"Sex?"
He looked away.
"Jim?"
He nodded. "Just a dream." He sat down.
Took her hand, realized her hair was still damp, that she smelled good. "McCoy let you shower?"
"Yes, and don't try to
change the subject." She shook her
head. "These dreams...they'll only
get worse."
He nodded. He lacked the energy to fight her.
"Was it Spock
again?"
"No. It was you.
I was hurting you."
She squeezed his hand. "It was just a dream."
"Didn't feel like
it."
"Well, that's why we need
to see the counselors. They're good at
this. They'll help us."
"Are you having
nightmares too?"
She shook her head.
"You're lucky."
"Traumatic stress can
show up in a lot of different ways. A
panic attack some moment when I least expect it, headaches possibly, or
depression. The idea is to work some of
the stress out before it manifests. Head
it off at the pass?"
He smiled slightly at her
efforts to make him understand. Then he
looked away. He knew she was right. But seeking treatment seemed awfully close to
bending.
To admitting he'd been
broken.
"Jim?"
He turned back to her.
"I know you'd never hurt
me." She let go of his hand,
reached up and stroked his cheek.
"You have to believe that too."
"I want to believe
that. But..." He sighed.
"Why don't you go up to
the bridge and let me sleep?"
Her eyes were so gentle, her
touch on his face so careful. He wished
he could crawl into the bed with her, lie pressed against her the way they had
in the cell. Just the two of them. No world, no tormentor, no reality of stress
and therapy and choice taken away again.
He leaned down, kissed her
forehead. "Sleep well."
"We'll be okay,
Jim."
He wished he could believe
her. He turned, then remembered what
else McCoy had said. "Tell McCoy if
you want to go to med school. He can
pull some strings."
She nodded, but something in
her expression seemed off.
"What?"
"You want me off the
ship?"
He looked at her in
confusion. "No."
Her face fell more.
He walked back. "I don't want you to go, Chris. But you need to do this."
She nodded, not looking at
him.
He had hurt her. He leaned down, his hands on either side of
her face. "Get that damned degree
and then come back to me." He kissed
her on the lips. A light kiss, one that
he tried to keep just friendly, but her lips opened to him, and the kiss
deepened despite his best intentions.
She gave a low moan, her arms coming around him.
He pulled slowly away, his
hands shaking. His nightmare seemed to
superimpose itself on top of her. He saw
her bleeding and in pain, hurt by him, by what this could lead to. With a low animal sound of fear, he pulled
away from her. "I'm sorry."
"Jim. No.
It's all right." She reached
out for him again.
But he kept seeing the dream Chris
lying on his bed, eyes glassy. In the
nightmare, he'd cut her throat, let her bleed to death as he'd used her. "No!"
"Jim, please."
"What the devil is going
on here?" McCoy took one look at
Kirk's face and reached for a hypo.
"I'm all right, Bones." Kirk fought the panic, forcing himself to
breathe more normally.
"You're a long way from
all right, Jim." McCoy took a step
toward him, but he didn't reach for the hypo again.
"Bones, I'm
fine." Kirk tried to grin, knew
that he failed but kept the expression up as he headed for the door. "Duty calls."
"Oh, no you don't. You're off duty, Jim. Stay here, or go to your quarters. But you're not to go near the bridge. You understand?"
Kirk nodded. Threw a shamed look at Chapel, then hurried out.
McCoy turned to her. "You want to tell me what that was all
about?"
She shook her head. Still shaken by what had just happened. The kiss and his reaction to it.
He'd kissed her.
She'd kissed him back.
It had been so nice. Until he'd panicked. She sighed.
McCoy sighed. "Okay, you're not going to tell
me."
She realized McCoy hadn't
seen the kiss, had probably only come out when Jim yelled.
"Alesson did a number on
him."
"I watched the
video. That was a dream channeler?"
"A modified one,
yeah."
"You know those link to
neural pathways. There is a residual
effect."
She nodded.
"If he's dreaming, the
dreams could get worse before they get better.
He was on that thing for hours."
"I know." She looked away. "He's not cracking up."
"I didn't say he
was." McCoy sat down on the bed
across from her. "But he's not
exactly himself either."
"I know," she said
again. She turned over, stared at the
ceiling.
"You'd tell me if you
thought he was in trouble, wouldn't you, Christine?"
She turned back to him,
surprised he even needed to ask.
"You know that I would."
He stared at her, as if
measuring her words for truthfulness.
Finally, he seemed to relax.
Walking closer to the bed, he asked softly, "So, you really
thinking of going back to school?"
She nodded.
"You want me to make the
call?"
"Would you?"
"Yep." He got up.
He walked into his office, came back out with a padd. "Start on the application." He smiled at her, the open, easy smile she
loved. Then his look grew more
serious. "I know I haven't always
been the easiest guy to work for."
She shrugged.
"I do value you. You're the best damn nurse I've ever worked
with and you'll make an outstanding doctor." He seemed to be tearing up.
She smiled, touched. "I'll miss you too, Len."
"Hell of a time to
spring this on me." He turned and
walked back to his office.
She heard him make the call
to Starfleet medical. Knew that Kirk
would follow that call up if he had to with one of his own, to someone in
Command who could make things happen.
Her future awaited. Whether she was ready for it or not.
She put the padd down, closed
her eyes. Her future could wait a few
hours.
---------------------------
Kirk stood next to Chapel on
the transporter pad. McCoy had only just
released her from sickbay. She pulled at
her new uniform, saw Kirk watching her and stopped fiddling.
"Energize," he told
the transporter tech.
"Energizing."
The transporter room
disappeared, to be replaced a moment later with the transporter room on
Starbase Two. Kirk picked up their bags
and with a nod to the Starbase transporter tech, led her out into the busy
corridors.
They rode a shuttle to the
medical facility, were waved through the front entrance and walked through a
garden area to the reception.
The aide on duty smiled at
them. "Captain Kirk. Ensign Chapel, we've been expecting
you."
She gestured to a waiting
tech who took Chapel's bag from Kirk, then said, "This way, ma'am."
Kirk felt a moment of
panic. "Where are you taking
her?"
The aide looked up for her
terminal. "She's in the junior
officers' quarters, sir."
Another tech appeared. "If you'll follow me, sir."
Kirk saw Chapel look back at
him, she looked slightly unnerved at being separated from him and it made him
feel better that he wasn't alone in his anxiety. He steeled himself, nodded to the tech,
followed him to the senior officers' quarters.
He could almost feel the
Enterprise warping away without him.
Spock had orders to deliver some medical supplies to Vedilon Prime. They'd be back to pick up Chris and him once
they put their tangled psyches back together.
Or tried to.
He stowed his bag in his
room, followed the tech to the first of what seemed interminable tests and
appointments. He was soon sick of being
probed, poked, and studied. He was even
sicker of answering questions about how he felt and if he was sleeping well.
The last doctor he saw
prescribed some medicine that he hoped would help suppress the dreams by
reducing the triggers his own body was producing--hormones and
neurotransmitters that rose with each dream, causing more dreams, which caused
the hormones to elevate again in a vicious cycle. Kirk hated the idea of taking medicine, hated
the way it made him feel. As if he
wasn't in control, wasn't all there. But
he was also exhausted enough to try them.
The chance of falling into a dreamless slumber was too good to pass
up.
But barely two hours into his
sleep he awoke, crying out. He clenched
his jaw, waiting to see if his cries had roused anyone. They had not.
He tried to relax. Was too keyed up to fall back asleep. As he lay in the dark, he started to feel
sick. Nausea welled up, and he imagined
a war going on inside him between the medicine he'd been given and the
dreams. He tried to ignore the sick
feeling, but then the room started to spin.
He gave up and went to the bathroom, throwing up over and over until his
stomach ached with dry heaves and his throat burned. The dreams were preferable. At least he wasn't useless after one.
He walked shakily back to the
bed, trying to take slow deep breaths.
The doctors had explained to him how the dream channeler worked. The pathways that had been burned into his
brain would eventually lose power, but now they were open and all leading to
the same thing. Bad, bad dreams. He needed to relax, stop the rise of neurotransmitters
and hormones that only made the dreams stronger.
If he needed to relax,
heaving his guts into the head night after night was not the way to do it. His body ached, his hands were shaking, and
he felt dehydrated. Gingerly sipping
water, he sat up reading for the remainder of his rest period, hopelessly glad
when it was time to go to breakfast, then his next appointment. He endured more tests, psychological and
physiological. He talked with his
counselor, told him about the night he'd had.
The counselor thought the side effects might lessen over time. But he didn't rule out that if Alesson had
modified the dream channeler, he might have somehow ensured that the meds would
be ineffective, or worse. It was
possible that Kirk would only feel sicker as each reaction built on the
next. When Kirk decided to give the meds
a pass, the counselor made only a cursory attempt to dissuade him, then sent
him to another specialist who used hypnosis instead of medicine.
By the end of the day, he was
exhausted and sick of timetables and processes and hearing himself talk. He sat in the cafeteria, toying with his
food.
"There room for
me?"
He looked up, smiled--a real
smile, the first one that day. "I
thought I wasn't going to see you."
Chapel nodded. "They've been keeping me busy. Lots of evaluations. You too?"
He nodded.
"You look all in,
Jim. Have you slept?"
"A few hours last
night."
"That's not
enough."
He pushed food around his
plate. "I know."
"And you're not
eating."
"They gave me some
medicine to make me sleep. It
didn't. But it did make me sick. I don't have much appetite."
She got up, came back with a
glass filled with a pinkish thick liquid.
"Drink up. It's full of
vitamins and it tastes good."
"If you don't mind, I'll
take my time." He sipped it. It did taste good. "How about you? Are you all right?"
"I'm resting. Finishing my applications."
He felt a pang at the idea of
her going away. "Good."
She sighed. "I'm not sure I want to go."
"You should though. It's what you need to do."
She nodded grudgingly. "I know.
I've gotten so comfortable on the ship.
It doesn't stretch me, but it isn't scary either." She smiled.
"My future is scary. The
counselors are having fun with that."
"Counselors." He put a lot of disdain in the word.
"Why? What are yours saying?"
"To give it time. Let the dream channeler's effect go
away. And to get back on the
horse." He shook his head at the
last one. His therapist had actually put
it that way. Probably seen in Kirk's
file that he liked to ride.
"They're probably not
wrong."
He held a hand up and she
didn't press him. He looked at her,
really seeing her for the first time.
"You cut your hair?"
And it was dark. "Wow."
"I had this wild urge to
look like I used to."
"I like it." He studied her. Her eyes looked bluer. More intense and catlike. "This was part of your therapy?"
She laughed. "No, I did it at lunch."
"I had to eat with my
therapist."
"Poor Jim." She held out her hand.
He took it. Realized that other than the prodding hands of
technicians, this was the first real contact he'd had with anyone since he got
to Starbase Two. "It's been
interesting talking to them...the therapists, I mean," he said. "They ask some strange questions
though. I find myself trying to analyze
what they could learn from some of them."
She nodded. "I know." She yawned.
"You're
tired." He squeezed her hand. "Meet me here tomorrow for
dinner?"
She nodded. He let go of her hand as she got up.
"Good night," she
said.
"Pleasant
dreams." He smiled, but, once she
left, his smile faded.
One of them should have
pleasant dreams. He knew it wasn't going
to be him.
-----------------------
Chapel waited at the entrance
to the cafeteria, watching as the doctors went by, wondering if she would feel
any different once she was one too. She
saw Kirk coming toward her and smiled at him.
"I'm sorry I'm
late." He walked with her into the
cafeteria. "We discovered my
childhood today."
She nodded. "Mine too. We must be on the same timetable." She picked out some food, not really
hungry. "It's a little
invasive."
"It's a lot
invasive." He didn't seem to be any
hungrier. "And I don't know what
we're accomplishing."
"It's annoying, but it
may help." She looked at the dark
circles under his eyes. "Did you
sleep at all?"
"An hour. Before the nightmares came."
"Were they about me
again?"
He nodded. "You're my dream girl."
"A little less sarcasm
would be nice." She tried to joke
but it fell flat.
He didn't even smile. "Believe me you don't want to be in
these dreams."
"I believe you."
He picked at his food. "It's comforting, in a way, to know that
it's not me, it's the damned aftereffect of that apparatus. But to not know when it's going to let up? I'm so tired, Chris."
"I know."
He pushed his plate
away. "And I'm not
hungry." His hands shook slightly
as he picked up his glass of water.
She pushed her tray
away. "I'm not hungry
either." She got up. "Let's get out of here."
"And go where?"
"Somewhere quiet. Where we can talk."
He nodded, got up and grabbed
his tray. She followed him to the
recycler, then out of the cafeteria.
"Let's go find a bar, go
get a drink," he said.
"I don't think we're
supposed to leave the hospital."
He grinned at her. "Do you see guards? Or a big sign?"
She shook her head. "This kind of rebellion is just a way to
regain control of your life."
"Whatever you say, Nurse
Freud." He took her hand. "Come on."
They did end up sneaking past
the reception while the aide was on break.
Chapel fought laughter as they hurried out the door and into the garden
area. She heard the whirr of a small
cart and Kirk pushed her into the bushes, following her down. They watched as a technician drove by, slowing
as he approached the exit. A guard
stepped out, checked the cart as if for stowaways, then waved him through.
"I guess we aren't
supposed to leave." Kirk breathed
out heavily, impatience written in his face.
She took his hand, led him
away from the gate, back toward the main building, keeping to the bushes. She heard a faint water-on-water kind of
tinkle, turned toward the sound. A
moment later, they were standing in a rose garden, the flowers surrounding a
small fountain.
"Did you know this was
here?" He let his fingers drag
through the water, then flicked them at her playfully.
She did the same, was glad to
see him smile. "No, I
didn't." She took a deep breath,
the scent of roses filling her head, then more water landed on her face. She giggled.
He raised his hand to get her
again and she caught it. His fingers
tightened around hers, then he pulled her to him. She ended up on his lap, his arms coming
around her waist.
She leaned in, knew it was a
bad idea but wanted to feel his lips again.
Kissing him was as wonderful
as she remembered. He held the back of
her neck with one hand, pulling her closer.
She moaned, heard him make a similar sound.
When they finally pulled
away, she was glad he was supporting her.
His eyes were dark, and he played with her hair, his hands running
roughly over her. He looked possessive,
and very intense.
She slipped off his lap, took
his hand and pulled him up. "Your
place or mine?"
She saw him hesitate.
"Jim?"
He shook his head.
"Jim, I can't help you
with the dreams. Only time will. But I can make reality less scary." She squeezed his hand. "I don't believe you would ever hurt
me. I have faith in you. Let me help you have faith."
"Did your counselors
tell you to do this? Or did
mine?" He pulled away from her,
walked to the flowers.
She hurried after him. "Of course they didn't." She touched his arm. "I know you want this as much as I
do." She let her arm drop down his
body, making sure she was right.
She was right.
He flinched at her
touch. "That's
immaterial."
"No, it's
not." She didn't try to touch him
again. "Jim, please let me help
you."
He turned, stared down at
her. Then he took a deep, shuddering
breath and something shifted in his expression.
He pulled her to him again, kissed her with such passion it left her
breathless.
"This isn't a good idea,
Chris." He said as he drew away for a moment. But he didn't stop touching
her, couldn't seem to stop kissing her.
She pulled him toward the
building. "Please?"
He seemed to shudder, but he
followed her in. They rode the elevator
silently, getting out on her floor. She
glanced at him. He was walking to her
room as if to a funeral. She pushed open
the door, urged him inside.
He turned, waited for her to lock
the door. "I don't know if I
can..." He reddened.
She sighed. Then she moved until she was close enough to
touch him. "We don't have to do
anything. I just want another
kiss."
He looked lost. His eyes seemed to flash a combination of
desire and fear. "I do want
you."
She moved closer, ran her
hand down his arm. "And I want
you. And if this will help you, how can
it be a bad idea?" She nuzzled his
neck.
"You're one of my
crew." But he was stroking her
hair, pulling her closer.
"Not for long. Not if I get into med school." She reached up, pressed her lips gently
against his, not pushing him, waiting.
He crushed her to him, his
lips hard against her, his tongue forcing entry into her mouth. She met him, not afraid. His teeth brushed her lips, his hands
possessive as he pushed her against him.
She realized that she couldn't get away from him, he was too
strong. She felt a moment's hesitation.
And he knew it.
She felt him tremble, begin
to pull away. She put her hand on the
back of his head. Held him close. "It's all right. You're not hurting me. And I'm not going to hurt you."
"Chris, you don't know
what kind of dreams I've been having."
He buried his head in her neck.
"They're horrible."
"I believe you. But this isn't a dream. It's real.
And we're not going to hurt each other."
She led him to the bedroom,
began to take off his clothes.
He pulled away.
She sighed. "If it's that you don't want me, then
go. But find someone you do want and
work this fear out."
He stared at her as if she
was an idiot. "I dream about you
every time I close my eyes. Of course I
want you."
"Then stay with me. Fight this...with me." She stepped closer, then closer again. Began to undo his clothes again.
This time, he let her; he
unfastened hers too.
She pulled his face closer,
kissed him passionately. He met her,
didn't pull away, even though she could feel him trembling.
He pushed her down to the
bed, following her, gently touching her body.
His gentle hands turned to firm, then controlling. But never scary. She relaxed in his touch, secure that he
wouldn't hurt her.
"So strong," he
murmured as he began to kiss her everywhere.
She made an odd whimpering noise,
smiled in embarrassment when he pulled away from the spot he was kissing to
study her.
He smiled. "Lonely, Chris?"
"Very. It's been a long time since..." She was completely embarrassed admitting that
to him.
He nodded gently, seemed to
understand. He kissed her neck, then
whispered in her ear, "Are you sure about this?"
"I'm sure," she
said, pulling his face back to hers so she could kiss him again.
His hands were everywhere and
she arched, moaning. He moved on top of
her, then seemed to freeze.
She wondered what he was
seeing. His eyes were so distant.
"Jim," she pushed
at his shoulder lightly, brought him back to the present, back to her. "Jim, I'm all right."
He refocused, seemed relieved
to see her. He kissed her then, fiercely,
almost desperately. As if he had lost
her. Then he entered her and she gasped
at the feeling of being one with him.
He moved, carefully and
skillfully and she kissed him, pulling him down to her. He stroked back her hair. "Are you all right?" He held himself still, waiting for her
answer.
"I'm fine. I'm better than fine." She smiled.
"Are you?"
He nodded, quickly, with
great relief.
"Let go," she
whispered. "You won't hurt
me."
"Chris," he moaned,
as if her name was a prayer. Began to move
again.
"It's okay. Just let go."
He kissed her, soul-deep
kisses that seemed to sear her lips, seemed to mark her as his own. She ran her fingers down his back, heard him
groan. He never quit moving, and his fingers
found sensitive places, making her writhe with pleasure. He kissed her as she cried out against his
mouth, following her into pleasure a moment later.
They lay together, both
breathing hard. He started to get off
but she wrapped her legs around him.
"Stay."
He kissed her. "I'm not going anywhere. But aren't I too heavy?"
"I don't care. I like this."
He kissed her again, lay
still for a few moments, holding her.
Then he eased off of her, rolling onto his side and pulling her against
him.
She ran her hand through his
hair, kissed him gently. "See, you
didn't hurt me."
"And you didn't hurt
me." He grinned, a shadow of his
former expression but welcome to her nonetheless. "I like your form of therapy much better
than the regular headshrinker stuff."
She smiled. "I like it too."
"How long has it
been?" he asked, as he began to stroke her again.
She arched, rolled to her
back and he followed her, his hands never leaving her.
"Chris?"
"Since Roger," she
managed to get out.
"That's far too long,
Miss Chapel."
She couldn't answer, could
only arch her back and cry out as he touched her. He was smiling when she turned to look at
him. A very satisfied smile.
"On the other hand,
abstinence does accentuate response."
He leaned in, whispered, "The entire building heard you."
"No, they
didn't." She could feel herself
blushing.
He nodded tenderly. "I'm afraid they did." He kissed her. "I didn't mind in the least."
She closed her eyes, let her
heart rate and breathing come down from the cliff he'd sent her over. He touched her, his hand gentle against
her.
She relaxed, smiling as he
touched her cheek until she realized that his hands were still shaking. Her smile faded. She caught his hand, kissed it. "I think we should have more sessions
tonight."
He nodded. "Many more."
Then his eyes clouded again
and she shook him slightly.
"No, Jim. It's all right."
He nodded, went back to
touching her but the haunted look remained.
"Dammit, Jim," she
shook him harder, her voice fierce.
"We'll do this until you know in your heart that you could never
hurt me."
"That may take a
while."
"That's fine." She saw him smile at her determination and
pulled him to her. "You need this,
Jim. We both do."
"I need you," he whispered,
so softly she wasn't sure she had heard the words correctly.
"I'm right here,"
she said. She gave herself over to him,
glad that she was helping him. Glad that
he was touching her. Giddy with what he
was making her feel.
She only wanted to make him
feel better. And as the night
progressed, she could tell that she was doing just that.
She only wished she could
make him feel better when he fell asleep.
"Welcome back,
sir." Spock got up from Kirk's
chair. "I take it your visit was
productive?" he asked softly.
"Parts of it," Kirk
said. He still wasn't sleeping
much. On the other hand, since he'd had
Chris with him in her bed or his, he'd had plenty to do with the long rest periods.
He took the padd his yeoman
handed him, could barely focus on the writing.
He'd convinced the medicos at Starbase Two that he was fit for duty, but
he knew in his heart that he wasn't. But
he was home, on the Enterprise. He'd get
well here. He could feel himself
dropping his guard a bit. He didn't have
to fool the doctors any longer.
He saw Spock watching his
trembling hand and put the padd down.
Maybe he shouldn't drop his guard too far. "Report, Mister Spock."
"Our last mission was
completed successfully. We've been asked
to rendezvous with the Potemkin before we put in at Beta Aurigae."
Kirk nodded. "Time to rendezvous?"
"Approximately three
point five days." Spock leaned in,
said softly. "Ample time for you to
rest."
"Easy for you to
say. You don't have my dreams." He tried to grin, could tell by Spock's face
that he wasn't fooling him any.
"Perhaps Doctor McCoy
could prescribe something?"
"The doctors at Starbase
Two already did. The side effects were
hell." He sighed. "Lethe.
That's what I need." He saw
that Spock got the classical reference.
"I just wish I could forget what happened in Alesson's
basement. Just wish I could shake the
dream channeler now."
Spock nodded grimly.
Kirk sighed, then said,
"Carry on, Mister Spock,"
As his friend walked back to
his station, Kirk busied himself with the padds his yeoman kept giving
him. He studied the specifications for
the gravitational studies Starfleet wanted them to conduct of Beta Aurigae's
binary system. Everything looked in order.
He fought back a yawn, forced
his eyes to stay open. If he could just
rest his head for a moment, just close his eyes for even fifteen minutes, he'd
be fine. He stood up. "Mister Spock, you have the conn."
"Aye, sir."
He could feel Spock's eyes on
him as he walked across the bridge, turned as he stepped into the lift and saw
the Vulcan watching him, concern openly apparent on his face.
Again Kirk tried to grin,
again he failed. He saw Spock's face
tighten.
Then the doors closed. He considered going to see Chris, then an
enormous yawn overcame him. He needed to
rest. Just for a few minutes. "Deck five."
He eyed his bed with longing
but worried that he'd oversleep...or have a nightmare. He sat down at his desk, rested his head on
his crossed arms. He was asleep in
minutes.
The dreams followed
quickly. He struggled against them.
Then he felt something. A presence.
Helping him. He smiled as a
curtain dropped down between him and the dreams. Then another.
Then another.
"Forget," he heard
someone say, the sound ringing through his mind.
Forget what? He shifted, thought he felt warm fingers
pulling away from him.
Then sleep overcame him. He went willingly into it, wondered why he
was so tired. Gave up wondering, just
surrendered to sleep.
---------------------------
Chapel half expected Kirk to
show up during her shift, but he didn't.
She hoped he was sleeping, decided to go to his quarters on her break.
He was just coming down the hall
as she walked to his door, and she was so intent on her mission that she nearly
collided with him. "Sorry. Oh, Jim,
it's you."
She saw his eyes narrow,
turned to check the corridor behind her.
They were alone.
"Captain," she
revised, surprised he'd insist on such formality, but knowing he cared deeply
about appearances when it came to the crew.
"I was worried."
He smiled. "I was sleeping. Overslept in fact." He smiled.
It was his old expression.
"You slept?"
He nodded.
"No dreams?"
"Not that I
remember." He gave her an odd look.
"That's great," she
said, a huge smile breaking across her face.
He nodded. "Those therapists knew what they were
doing."
"Well, you may have had
a little extra help?" She laughed
huskily.
He looked at her as if he
didn't know what she was talking about.
Her smile faded. She felt a dark pain take hold.
Was he going to act as if
nothing had happened?
"I have to get to the
bridge," he said breezily.
"Right." She watched him walk away, felt a lump forming
in her throat. Swallowed it down,
swallowed everything down.
She went to the gym instead
of the cafeteria, worked on the floor machines until the punching bag was free.
Then she began to hit it for all she was worth.
Hands came out to steady the
bag. "Your thumbs should be on the
outside."
"I know." She quickly changed her grip. Didn't want to know why Spock thought he
needed to spot her--or critique her form--at this particular moment.
"You do not know, or you
would not do it wrong. If you were to
hit something harder than this bag with your thumb inside your hand, you would
break it."
She sighed. Didn't argue with him. How could she
win? He knew everything.
"You seem upset?"
"Spock, what are you
doing?"
"I am concerned about
you. We shared consciousness."
She almost smiled at him
using her own words against her.
"Unconsciousness, you mean."
"Yes."
"I'm fine," she
said, trying to make her voice so firm that he wouldn't challenge the
assertion.
And he did not. Instead he said, "I have heard you are
going to medical school."
"Haven't been accepted
yet." She threw a hard punch, felt
her shoulder wrench.
"Keep your arm
level. The motion should be more of a
push, less of a swing."
She tried what he said, found
it worked better, delivered a nice, solid hit to the bag.
"You will be leaving the
ship." It wasn't a question. It was more as if Spock was trying to
convince himself of something. Only she
wasn't sure what.
"Unless they start up
med school on the Enterprise, that's how it works." Pain and disappointment made her mean.
He didn't seem to mind.
"What's wrong with you,
Spock? You're suddenly so concerned
about me? I don't buy it. Your mother hen act is more convincing around
Jim"--she thought of how Kirk had looked at her when she'd used his first
name, sighed--"I mean the captain."
"I know you have
feelings for him."
She stared at Spock,
thunderstruck.
"These kinds of
situations can bring an unnatural closeness."
"Yeah, witness this
conversation."
He nodded calmly. "Precisely."
She walked away, went to sit
on one of the benches lining the wall.
He sat down next to her. "You saved him. I do believe that." He seemed about to take her hand, then
thought better of it.
She fought back tears. "I thought there was more." She felt stupid.
He said nothing, just sat
silently, offering support she was not sure how to accept.
Finally, she got up. "I have to get back to work."
He nodded. "Work is an effective means to forget. Going away to medical school will be helpful
as well. If you need a recommendation
from me, I will be most pleased to give it."
She nodded, touched by his
offer. She turned away.
"And Christine?"
She turned back.
"I like your hair."
She smiled sadly, shook her
head. "Thanks."
He nodded, got up and walked
out of the gym. She saw several
crewmembers eyeing her curiously. She
glared at them until they turned back to their machines.
------------------------------
As Kirk read one of his padds,
he shifted, his body till sore from Alesson's torture. He didn't suppose his long nap hunched over
his desk had helped his sore muscles.
But sleep had been wonderful. He
felt as if he hadn't slept in a week.
"Incoming distress
signal, sir," Lieutenant Lisa said.
"From where?"
"Camus II, sir."
He frowned. Something about that name sounded
familiar. He turned to Spock. "Who heads up that team?"
Spock checked the
databanks. "A Doctor Janice
Lester."
Kirk nodded. Of course, it had to be his ex-girlfriend's
planet.
Kirk swiveled in his chair to
watch the junior communications officer.
She was frowning as she tried to resolve the signal. Kirk suddenly wished Uhura hadn't gone on
leave while he was on Starbase Two. Then
Lieutenant Lisa smiled slightly, concentrating on the message. Her smile quickly faded.
"They're sick, sir. Radiation poisoning. The entire science team." She looked up at him, her young face
stricken. "They need our
help."
Spock turned. "We could divert there briefly and still
make our rendezvous."
Kirk then turned his chair
back to the front. "Mister Chekov,
alter course to Camus II."
"Aye, sir," Chekov
was already changing their heading.
"Mister Sulu, maximum
safe warp."
"Aye sir. Warp six."
Kirk felt a surge of old pain
surface as he thought of Janice. She'd
hurt him, badly. Even though he'd been
the one to walk out, she had left him long before he packed his bags. They'd been together a year. A tempestuous, tortured year.
He rubbed his eyes. He'd never expected to see her again.
Had hoped never to see her
again.
Leaving her had torn his
heart out. Just as it had when he'd
lost--
He frowned. Hated it when this happened. Why did he think he'd lost someone? He frowned more deeply. More than one someones. He was sure of it. But why couldn't he remember?
Maybe he should get McCoy to
check him out for head trauma. Lord knew
he'd taken enough bumps on the head to cause a bit of amnesia.
He shook his head. Maybe he just wanted there to have been a
special someone? He was tired of being
alone, he knew that. Tired of flings and
quick trysts on some shore leave spot or Starbase.
Again he had the strange
feeling. Like he should remember
something. He thought he felt water drag
against his fingers, could feel himself flicking the drops at someone. Then the image was gone.
Aftereffects, the therapists
would tell him. Post-traumatic
hallucinations even. He trusted the
doctors. They had cured him, cured him
and sent him back home. And he assumed
they'd helped Chapel too. That she'd
been able to rest, to work out her own demons.
He hadn't seen her until that strange conversation in the corridors
outside his quarters. She'd seemed
off.
Had she really called him
Jim?
Maybe he should ask McCoy to
check up on her.
She'd changed her hair, he
realized. The new color made her eyes
stand out.
For a second, he thought he
could smell roses. He reached for the
memory, but there was nothing.
He sighed. If he just left it alone, it would go away in
time. It had happened before. Eventually, the strange phantom memories
wouldn't bother him.
Someday he'd have to get them
checked out.
Someday when he didn't have
an old girlfriend to go rescue.
---------------------
Chapel stared down at the
hypospray in her hand. Doctor Lester was
mad. Just as Doctor Coleman said. There was no way Jim was trapped in her body.
She wished she could stop
thinking of the captain as Jim.
There had been something in Lester's
eyes though. Something that was far more
Kirk than the light that had shown out of the captain's eyes. And it didn't add up. Radiation poisoning that wasn't there upon
further tests. Supposed paranoia that
had developed for six months--and nobody had noticed it? Nobody had reported it? She knew Coleman was a hack, but that was a
lot to swallow.
Too much.
She filled the hypospray with
a vitamin mixture. Added a very small
amount of sedative. She'd said a light
one. This qualified.
Barely.
She walked back in; Doctor
Coleman had Lester back in bed, under restraints this time. She held the hypo to her arm, let it
spray. Saw Lester frown slightly,
obviously expecting more from the drug.
Then her face relaxed as the
sedative started to work. But Chapel
could tell she wasn't getting drowsy.
"I'll stay with her
until she falls asleep, Doctor."
"She's full of crazy
stories, Nurse Chapel."
She laughed. "I've heard more things from the mouth
of raving crew than you could possibly know.
Believe me, I'd know if this were the captain. And it's not." She smiled, trying for as perky and vapid a
look as she could muster.
Coleman bought it. "Call if you need me."
She nodded.
As soon as the door closed,
Lester said softly, "You really don't believe it's me?"
Chapel turned, studied the
other woman. "Tell me something
only the captain and I would know."
"Alesson."
Chapel nodded. "Go on."
Lester frowned. "He tortured me. You had to watch."
"Yes. And that's in the records Spock downloaded to
the ship's computer. You could have read
them."
"I didn't." She frowned again, as if she were having
trouble remembering something.
"Starbase Two. Start with that."
"We were in post-trauma
therapy. Routine after what we'd been
through."
"That's not very
convincing, Doctor." Chapel
winced. Her voice sounded like
Alesson's, when he'd asked Kirk to beg for her life.
Lester frowned too, again
looking as if she were trying to remember something. "I remember roses."
Chapel perked up.
"Water." Then she shook her head. "Nurse Chapel, please? I am Kirk."
Chapel sighed. "You used to call me something different
than Nurse Chapel."
Her expression softened. "Christine."
She shook her head,
rose. "Nice try, Doctor
Lester." She checked that the
restraints were tight, then headed out of sickbay.
She didn't realize she was
headed for the captain's quarters until she told the lift, "Deck
five."
What was she doing? He'd made it clear he didn't want to be with
her. But after almost believing Lester's
wild story, she just needed a moment with him.
A moment to reassure herself that this wasn't all a bad dream.
She shook her head. Unfortunate choice of words.
She buzzed at his door. Heard him say, "Come," and the door
opened.
He looked up, smiled
uncertainly. "Nurse Chapel, is
there a problem?"
She felt her heart sink. They were back to titles?
"Sir, I'm sorry to
bother you. Doctor Lester--"
"--Is there a problem
with Doctor Lester?"
She shook her head quickly,
surprised at his reaction, and at how flustered he looked for a moment.
It suddenly occurred to her
that Lester was doing a better job of acting like Kirk than he was.
"Alesson really did a
number on you," she said.
He stared at her, as if
waiting for her to explain.
"Alesson?" she
repeated.
He looked blank.
She forced a smile on her
face. "That bartender...at Starbase
Two. You remember? The one who made you the Vodka
Nightmare?"
Kirk laughed, not very
convincingly. "I should have known
by the name, shouldn't I?" He
looked down at his padds. "I'm very
busy, Miss Chapel."
"I'm sure you are,
sir." She smiled, again the vapid
look that had seemed to work with Coleman.
Kirk smiled back. Chapel decided his grin was off.
She turned and left,
wondering where the real Captain Kirk was.
She found sickbay empty, realized that no one had noticed she was
gone. She prepared a nutrient drink for
Lester, made sure to put it in real glass.
If she was the captain, she'd know what to do with it. If she wasn't, well, she was still closer to
Kirk than whoever was using his body.
Lester looked up. "I must've sounded quite mad to you
before."
Chapel said brightly,
choosing her words carefully, "What you've been through would've
completely broken most of us."
Lester didn't take the
bait. "Well, I'll be all right
now. Could I see your Dr. McCoy?"
"I'm afraid that's
against Dr. Coleman's orders."
"Oh." Lester tried again. "Is a visit by that very kind Mr. Spock
to be allowed?"
Chapel couldn't decide if
there was a coded message there or not.
"Perhaps that can be arranged before we reach the Benecia
Colony."
Lester's reaction was
instantaneous. And completely
Kirk-like. "Benecia? Isn't the Enterprise
going to rendezvous with the Potemkin at Beta Aurigae?"
Chapel nodded, gave her more
information than she should have, figuring why not let Lester know what was in
store? "Well, first we have to let
you recuperate at Benecia." She
handed her the glass, saw Lester eye it with interest. "You'll feel better if you have a
little."
Lester took it. "I'll try. Thank you." She sipped at the dark burgundy liquid. "Oh, it is good. Thank you."
Chapel tried to look busy,
checking the covers, waiting for the ruse Lester would use if she really was
Kirk. A ruse that would get Chapel to
leave.
She wasn't disappointed. "Could I finish it slowly, Nurse
Chapel?"
She remembered Kirk's words
from the cafeteria. He didn't like to
gulp things down. It was a short straw
to cling to as a clue, but given the rest of the evidence, she'd take it. "Well..."
Lester smiled up at her. The seductive smile looked different on a
woman's face, the glint odd from blue eyes instead of hazel. But Chapel thought it was a pretty convincing
Kirk.
"I promise I'll be
good."
"Well, I'll be right
back," Chapel said for the benefit of the security tapes. Tried on the perky nurse face one more time
as she smiled and said, "I'm glad you're feeling so much better."
Then she turned and walked
out of sickbay, determined to get to the bottom of things.
As she headed out the door,
she heard the sound of glass breaking and smiled. "Go, Jim," she whispered, as she
headed for her quarters.
-----------------------
Kirk worked with the broken
glass at the restraints, afraid that Coleman would come in and find him...stop
him. He was not as afraid that Chapel
would come back. He had the feeling she'd
handed him the opportunity to escape. He
must have reached her after all, what he'd said about their time together in
Alesson's prison.
He tried to go faster, but
Janice's hands were smaller, weaker. He
couldn't saw as fast as he liked, couldn't put the pressure he needed on the
glass.
He remembered her constant
complaints when they'd been together.
She'd hated being small, hated how weak it made her feel. He could never sympathize. Brute force didn't matter as much as knowing
how to turn your own strengths against someone else's weaknesses. Kirk had found that out the hard way in the
Academy, when he'd run up against bigger boys who could clean the floor with
him if he tried to outmuscle them. That
was when he'd learned about balance and position. It was when he'd begun to fight a lot
dirtier, but also a lot smarter. And
he'd started to clean the floor with the giants.
Janice was fast and she was
lithe. She could have learned a martial
art, better prepared herself to have to fight if it came to that.
And strength could be
improved at a basic level. Lifting
weights, repetitive motion exercises to improve grip and dexterity. It was as he'd told Chris--
He stopped sawing. Chris who?
He had a picture of Chapel, suffering, lying with her head in his
lap. They were talking about the gym.
That made no sense.
He tried to focus on the
memory. It was tied to the gym, to
fighting. He could see the cell, it was
Alesson's dungeon. Why didn't he remember
more of this?
He started to saw at the
restraints again, ran over what had happened.
He'd been tortured, Chapel had been forced to watch. Alesson had poisoned her and she'd--
How had Alesson poisoned
her? Why couldn't he remember that?
He'd killed Alesson. He felt a faint satisfaction at the
memory. He'd shot him. With his own weapon.
How had he gotten the weapon
away from him?
Kirk sighed in
frustration. It had to be trauma from
the experience. There was no other
explanation for these memory gaps.
He sawed faster, forcing
himself to pay attention to his current problem, which was much more important
than a little problem with his recall.
He had to convince Spock who he was.
And then he had to get his body back.
The restraints finally
separated and he dashed out of bed, running down the corridor to find McCoy and
Spock. The door opened and he saw Spock,
then he realized that she was there.
Lester. In his body. She controlled the body that was charging at
him, the hand that chopped down on a pressure point, stunning him.
He felt the guards take him
away, was thrown back into a room, mercifully free of restraints. They left him alone. He knew it wouldn't be for long. He'd seen something in Spock's eyes,
something that had flared when Kirk called McCoy by the nickname he had yet to
hear Janice use with him.
Only Kirk would call McCoy
Bones. He knew it, and Spock knew it.
The door opened and Spock and
the lieutenant from security walked in.
Spock was here. Kirk sighed with relief. He was fine now. Everything would be fine.
Spock would meld with him and
know the truth. And then it would be all
right.
Kirk took a deep breath. Began to breathe easier for the first time
since seeing Janice again.
Chapel was convinced the person
in sickbay was Kirk, but she couldn't understand why he hadn't spoken of any of
the things that had happened on Starbase Two.
How could he have forgotten what they'd shared? Or the name he'd called her?
Unless...the day it had
started, he had said he'd slept fine.
Had been napping, with no dreams.
What if the dreams just before had been so violent that his mind had
somehow invoked some strange kind of amnesia?
To protect him perhaps? He had
been exhausted, on the verge of collapse.
It was possible.
He'd been with her the night
before in her room on Starbase Two, and she'd witnessed nothing odd. He'd seemed fine in the morning when they'd
reported to the ship. But that afternoon,
he'd blown her off. Or just couldn't
remember her anymore. If she could
figure out why, maybe she could help him.
And help him get his body back.
Not that he would need much help on that score. He'd run straight for Spock, she knew
that. Kirk would head for his best
friend. The man he trusted more than
anyone.
And Spock would need about
two minutes with a meld to find out whether Chapel was right or not.
Chapel locked her door and
settled in at her desk. She accessed the
ship's security logs, using her own codes to get through the safeguards. Medical personnel at her level had a great
deal of access. McCoy had even more and
had the bad habit of keeping his passwords lying around rather than memorizing
them. The video of the senior officers
were locked away from her, but not from the CMO. She used his codes, accessed Kirk's files,
selected the day in question, starting with the moment he arrived back on
ship. He would have had to have been
alone, she decided, telling the computer to only pick those scenes where he was
by himself.
There was little to look
at. Just a long shot of him sleeping,
then waking up and going out in the hall where he would bump into her a moment
later. She replayed the tape of him
sleeping, noticed the timer skipped shortly after he had fallen asleep.
"Show missing scene
between 4433 and 4477."
The scene replayed. Kirk slept.
Then Spock walked in. He stared
down at the captain for a long time.
Kirk was moving slightly, probably already in a dream. Spock reached down, his fingers going to the
meld spot.
Kirk quieted.
Then there was no movement,
Spock stood like a stone, his face tense with concentration. Kirk was still, his face becoming more and
more peaceful the longer Spock maintained the meld.
Chapel swallowed, nearly
choked when Spock said, "Forget."
Then he let go of Kirk.
"No," she
whispered, not wanting to believe what she'd just seen. "Replay scene."
She watched it over and over
and over. She looked down, realized she
had clenched her hands and her nails were digging into her palms painfully.
"Computer, show similar
scenes, Kirk asleep or unconscious, Spock awake. No other personnel present in the
room."
"State time
parameters."
"Duration of
mission," she said, afraid of what she would find.
The computer searched for a
moment. "Seventy-two occurrences."
Chapel sighed. Given Kirk's propensity for racing headlong
into the fray, she expected most of the video to be of him recovering in
sickbay and of Spock sitting his ever-patient vigil. She'd walked in on that tableau many
times.
"Cross-reference time
settings with closest previous mission and display."
"Working. Ready.
Displaying first occurrence."
As she expected, it was a
scene of sickbay: Kirk tossing on the
biobed, Spock standing silently, watching him.
Nothing else happened. Chapel
assumed she or one of the doctors had walked in. "Next scene."
She flipped quickly through similar scenes.
Then she found one that looked similar to when she had seen Spock use
the meld to erase Kirk's memory. She
leaned forward, sighed when she heard Spock say that one word. "Forget."
She checked the time
cross-references. It was just after the
Rigellian Fever outbreak on the Enterprise.
When Kirk and Spock and McCoy had beamed down to Holberg 917G to get some
Ryetalyn. The girl. Chapel remembered that McCoy had mentioned a
girl. Rayna. Said Kirk had loved her. But Kirk had never seemed to Chapel to be
particularly broken up about her death.
She remembered she'd thought him slightly shallow at the time.
But he hadn't been. He hadn't been allowed to mourn. Spock had taken that away from him.
"Continue," she
said quietly, running her fingers through her hair in agitation as she flipped
through more scenes of sickbay. She just
couldn't understand how Spock could do this?
Who the hell did he think he was?
"Hold image," she
said, checking the timer. It was when
they had discovered the Guardian of Forever, when McCoy had taken his
disastrous journey through time.
It was little different from
the other two. Kirk sleeping at his desk,
his terminal still on as if he had given up mid report and only rested his head
for a moment. It seemed to take Spock
longer this time both to decide what to do and to establish the meld once he'd
decided. But the effect was the
same. Kirk's face relaxing as Spock's
tightened with purpose, with determined concentration. He whispered, "Forget."
Chapel had never heard this
story from McCoy. Except that Kirk had
let a woman die. She wasn't sure what
Spock was making Kirk forget, but she suspected it had to do with the same
woman. The one McCoy had been so fond
of. Edith. Chapel struggled for the last name, couldn't
remember it.
Her console rang. She listened to the false captain's message
about Spock and mutiny and sighed. It
looked like Kirk hadn't gotten as far as she'd hoped. Then she got a private hail from Lieutenant
Lisa. "Nurse Chapel to the briefing
room on the double."
She logged out of the
security system, and turned off her terminal.
"On my way," she said.
As she passed the mirror, she
noticed her hair was flat and mussed from her having played with it as she
watched the security video. She pushed
it away from her face and hurried out.
Her hair didn't matter.
Sulu and Chekov turned around
as she entered the briefing room.
"Christine? Do you know what this is about?" Sulu looked disturbed.
She shook her head, saw Spock
sitting at the front, a security detail in the back watching him closely.
She sat down next to him,
said softly, "I assume this hearing means that you realize that the
captain and Doctor Lester have indeed switched bodies?"
He turned to her, surprise in
his eyes. "Yes. I melded with her, realized it was Jim's
mind."
"Hmmm." She looked over at him, gave him a hard
stare. "And did you figure that out because of what was there or what was
missing?"
His face froze, if that was
possible for a Vulcan.
She smiled harshly. "When this is all over, we need to
talk."
He nodded tightly, saved from
a response by the arrival of the false Kirk, followed closely by Scotty and
McCoy.
"Sitting with me is not
a wise idea, Christine," Spock said softly.
"My crush is on record,
no one will question it." She
didn't smile. "Besides, I want to
keep an eye on you."
"I will not run."
She knew he was telling the
truth, but she didn't leave his side until he was taken back into custody and
led away for an execution none of them could believe would take place.
She joined Sulu and Chekov in
the corridor. Lieutenant Lisa came out a
few minutes later.
"The captain's
coming," she said, and they all hurried down the hall and around the
corner.
"He's gone mad,"
Sulu said.
"_He_ hasn't,"
Chapel said.
Chekov nodded. "It's not like the captain to do
this." He sighed.
"Get to your posts,"
Chapel said. "Don't do anything
suspicious or you'll be arrested too.
But when the time comes..."
They all looked as miserable
as she felt.
"What are you going to
do?" Lieutenant Lisa asked.
"I don't
know." Chapel turned and headed
back to sickbay. She might not be able
to fight, but there was one thing she could do.
She began to load up some hypos with a powerful sedative. Strong enough to drop an elephant. Or one raving psycho inhabiting the body of a
starship captain. If he got close enough
to her.
------------------------
"Janice? Why?"
Kirk sat across from Lester. It
felt so good to be back in his own body, to feel his strength, the muscles he
had built, the not so muscled areas that were also his doing. The good and the bad, all his. She hadn't been able to hold on to his body,
not as long as he was alive, and she hadn't been quick enough to kill him.
She turned to Coleman. "Leave us alone?"
Coleman's face twisted with
jealousy but he got up and left them.
One of the security guards accompanying him into the corridor.
Lester's face was
composed. She'd stopped raving, stopped
cursing him. She seemed resigned now to
her fate. To being in her own body. "I hate being a woman."
"I've never understood
that."
"Oh, you say that from
your position. This ship, your faithful
crew, the big chair." She looked
away. "All denied me."
He shook his head.
"You're an idiot, Janice. A
brilliant, daring idiot. You've never
understood how things work and that's been your failing. No, there's never been a woman starship
captain. But there will be. There will be a woman who comes up from the
ranks and proves herself."
"There are rules--"
"--Yes, and for the
right woman, they'll bend over backwards to break them. The same way they did for me. All I heard as I fought to get here was that
I was too damned young. That it would
never happen. That I needed seasoning. Well, I didn't. I got here.
And you could have too...if you'd been willing to work for it." He laughed softly. "But that's always been your
problem. You want it, you feel entitled
to it, but you won't work for it."
He stood up. "What you did
to me is a perfect example of that."
"I loved you," she
said, reaching out for him.
"No, you didn't. You loved what I had."
"I couldn't kill
you."
"And that's supposed to
make me believe that you love me?"
He shook his head. "You
couldn't kill me because once again you weren't willing to work for what you wanted. It was easier to get your incompetent lapdog
to do it for you."
She looked away. "Did you ever love me?"
He sighed. "You know that I did. My love was never in doubt. It was yours that was twisted so far out of
shape as to be unrecognizable."
"What's going to happen
to me?"
"Detention, either in a
psychiatric facility or a penal one."
She looked away. "I'm not crazy."
"You're a long way from
sane, Janice."
He watched her as she got up
and paced. Tried to remember why he had fallen
in love with her, if there had ever been a time when they had been truly
happy. Probably before he got to know
her well, before she showed him how insane she was.
"I did love you,
Jim."
He didn't want to argue
anymore. What did she know of love,
anyway? Possibly, in her book, she did
love him.
She turned to him. "I would have made a good captain."
"No, Janice, you
wouldn't have." He stood up, nodded
to the guard who stood by the door.
"Let's go."
He heard her call out for
him. Didn't stop. She was his past. A past he'd left behind long ago. A past he wanted no part of anymore.
"She's all yours,
Doctor," he said to Coleman, who was being watched by the other
guard. Coleman's sanity was in doubt
too. He'd said he wanted to take care of
Janice, but it was unlikely they'd end up together. The man had to know that.
Kirk walked away. Suddenly not caring what happened to either
of them. He only wanted to forget that
this nightmare had ever happened.
---------------
Chapel heard her chime ring,
took a deep breath. It had to be
Spock. She had been about ready to go to
him. So of course, he came to her.
"Come," she called.
Spock walked in, his features
composed, his stride measured.
As if she didn't hold the key
to his destruction.
She was glad she was so angry
at him. Otherwise, she might have been a
little bit afraid.
"You wished to
talk?" He stood in front of
her.
"Why did you do
it?"
"Specify?"
She did not think he was
playing games with her. He was just being
careful. Finding out how much she
knew. If she'd figured out that he had
wiped Kirk's memory more than once.
"You messed with his
mind. I actually have a good idea
why. You did it because he was in
pain. And you can't stand to watch him
suffer."
"Yes." He seemed to relax.
"But you had no right to
do it." She suddenly didn't like
how close he was standing, how easily he could pin her in the narrow area
between her desk and the wall. She got
up, pushed past him.
He moved back and let her pass.
"You took me away from
him. The memory of me."
"Yes." He sighed, surprising her with the intensity
of the sound. "It was not an easy
decision, Christine. But you are leaving."
"I'm probably
leaving. I haven't been accepted
yet. And even if I am accepted, I'm
going to Earth, not to another dimension.
I would have seen him again."
She paced, she'd practiced this conversation, but now she couldn't
remember what she had wanted to say.
"You didn't just take me away.
You erased Rayna. And Edith. It was Edith, wasn't it?"
He nodded.
"You had no right."
"He was in pain."
"Yes. Humans feel pain. It's an emotion. You know those, Spock? Those feelings that overran you on
Sarpeidon? With Zarabeth?"
He looked at her in surprise.
"McCoy told me. I think he wanted me to give up on you. I didn't tell him that I already had. A long time ago." She felt her anger rising again. "You're half human, Spock. You have emotions."
"I have them. I find them distasteful."
"And our emotions? You find those distasteful too? So much so that you can just wipe them away
if they get too strong? If they become
too unpleasant for you?"
"I did not do this for
myself."
"Bullshit! _You_ didn't like seeing him in pain. _You_ didn't like feeling helpless while he
suffered. You think I don't know what
that's like? Why do you think I stuck a
hypo full of poison in my veins? I thought
I could make it better for him. But I
only made it worse." She was
crying, wiped her tears away angrily.
"I love him too, Spock. I
understand why you did it. But I hate
you for doing it."
He swallowed hard, did not
reply. Finally, he asked, "Will you
tell him?"
"Either you
will--now--or I will."
"I cannot." He moved closer to her.
She backed away. "Why?
Because you know what you did was wrong?"
"He will not forgive
me."
She realized he had her
pinned between the bathroom door and the bed.
She reached back, trying to open the bathroom door. He grabbed her arm, pulled her close.
"That's right, Spock. I'm the only one who knows. All you have to do is wipe my memory too and
you'll be safe." She was sobbing,
her words coming out rough and heavy but he seemed to have no problem
understanding her. He pulled her closer,
stared down at her. His face was no
longer composed. In fact, he looked
desperate.
Then he let her go and took a
step back.
She followed him. "Go ahead and do it. Take it away.
Make me forget how much I love him.
Make me forget how much I hurt! That
I'd actually like you to give him back his pain just so that he'll want me
again." She was crying hard,
pounding on his chest. "Make me
forget too. I want to forget."
He pulled her to him. Held her as she wept. Not just for Jim but for what she'd seen and
heard and cleaned up in that basement.
Pain and sorrow and horror that the therapists had never come close to
unearthing.
She wept it all out.
"Make me forget
too," she whispered.
"I will not."
She pulled away, backed up
until she hit the wall. "Can you
restore his memory?"
He did not answer at once,
seemed to be considering it. "The
recent events possibly. I am less sure
about the earlier ones." He looked
at her, something lost and confounded in his expression. "Do you want him to feel that pain
too? The loss of those loves?"
"It's his pain. And his choice. But you have to give him that choice. And if he wants all the pain back, you have
to try."
"What if he does not
want it back?"
She could not imagine James
Kirk not wanting any part of himself back, but she shrugged. "That's his choice too."
"I did not intend to
hurt him."
"But you did. I almost didn't know it was him in Lester's
body. He didn't know we'd made
love. He didn't remember what he'd
called me. He would never have gotten
away and found you, if I hadn't suspected it was him, if I hadn't given him the
means to escape." She looked
down. "And you came to me that day. In the gym.
Why?"
"I knew how this would
hurt you. I did not relish that. Creating pain for you when I took his
away."
"And yet you did
it." She looked down.
"He was suffering. He was not fit for command."
"He would have
been. In time."
"There was too much
pain. Too much fear."
She sighed in
frustration. "That's how humans grow,
Spock. Through pain. Through conquering their fear. We don't learn when it's peaceful and
nice. It's not in our nature. I know he's told you that. But you just don't get it."
"I am not
human."
"You're half human, damn
it. Stop pretending that all you are is
Vulcan. It's not Vulcan to love him like
you do. And tell me, Spock. Is it Vulcan to take such liberties with
another being's mind? Without their
permission?"
He looked down, his
expression one of shame.
"I didn't think so. Maybe you're a better human than you are
Vulcan?"
He shook his head, but did
not say anything.
"I met evil down in
Alesson's chamber of horrors. I saw a
man who was capable of ripping through a man's mind out of hatred."
He raised his head, eyed her
with something akin to horror.
"But you did it out of
love. And somehow, Spock. Somehow, that's so much worse."
He closed his eyes.
"You'll tell him
then?" She felt no victory as she
looked at him. Just a deep, dark
sadness.
He nodded.
She stepped closer. "I lied before. I don't hate you, but I don't understand how
you could have done this. How you
thought it was all right to do this."
"Do you forgive
me?"
"I'm not the one who has
to."
He raised his hand, stroked
her cheek gently. "He did love
you. As much as you love him, he loved
you."
"Thank you for telling
me." She let her eyes grow
hard. "Now get your hand off my
face."
He nodded, pulled his hand
away. "I..." He turned away.
"You can't even say
you're sorry? Spock. That's so sad." She watched him walk to the door. "I hope you learn to say it before you
tell him the truth. Because he's going to
need to hear it from you."
He did not answer her, just
walked out her door, leaving her to try to still a heart that raced with pain
and anger and a small bit of fear.
---------------
Kirk was just leaving for
dinner, saw Spock coming down the corridor.
Smiled at his friend. "Can I
interest you in a game of chess?"
Then he frowned.
Spock looked upset.
"What's wrong, Spock?"
"I must speak with
you."
"Of course. Come in." He palmed his door open, motioned for Spock
to go in ahead of him. "What's on
your mind?"
He thought he saw Spock
flinch.
"Spock?"
"I do not know how to
tell you something. But it is important
and I must find a way."
"Just say it,
Spock. You know there's nothing you
can't tell me." He smiled,
remembering how Spock had believed in him when he had been in Janice's body.
"I have
trespassed."
"What?" Kirk poured himself a drink, looked over at
Spock. "You sure I can't get you
something? You look like you could use a
drink."
And Spock suddenly looked
like he was considering having one.
"Spock? For god's sake. What do you mean you've
trespassed?" He sat down in front of
his best friend, waited.
"You were in pain. And I wanted to help." Spock was unusually tentative, watching Kirk
for a reaction.
"And...?"
"I erased that
pain."
Kirk smiled. "You say it like it's a bad thing. Obviously I don't remember it. Was it after a fight? Was I hurt?"
"It was not physical
pain. It was...emotional distress."
Kirk frowned. "And you took it away?"
Spock nodded.
"How did you do
that?"
"I"--Spock actually
gulped--"I erased your memory. A part
of it that was linked with the distress."
Kirk wasn't sure he had heard
Spock right. "You did
what?" He stood up, suddenly
needing to be anywhere but close to Spock.
"How much of my memory?
When?" He turned to look at
Spock. "Why?"
"Because you were
suffering." Spock looked down. "Recently. And not so recently."
"How much?"
"It is difficult to
calculate. Memories are
complicated." Spock's voice
cracked. He coughed. "They may still be there, I tampered
with the linkages."
"Meaning you can put
them back?" Kirk took a long gulp
of his drink, then put it down. It
tasted horrible. Or maybe that was just
the aftertaste of the truth.
And of illusion.
"I can try."
Kirk walked over to him, sat
down next to him. "Then do it. All of it."
"You do not know the
enormity of it."
"I don't care,
Spock." He knew his tone was harsh,
harsher than he'd ever used with the Vulcan.
He didn't care. "Put. Them.
Back."
"She said you would want
that."
"She? She who?"
"Christine."
Kirk shook his head, unsure
why Chapel would care one way or the other.
"You will understand in
a moment." Spock raised his hand to
Kirk's face. "I did it for you,
because I thought it would help you. I
hope you can forgive me."
"You have me at a disadvantage,
Spock. Until I know what you stole from
me, I can't say, now can I?"
"Of course
not." Spock took a deep
breath. "Close your eyes."
Kirk closed his eyes. Felt Spock's mind slip easily into his. And why not?
He'd never tried to block him. Never
thought he needed to.
"I am sorry," he
heard Spock say.
Then there was only silence
as Spock moved deeper into his mind.
Kirk suddenly saw Chris,
laughing as he flicked her with water.
Surrounded by the smell of roses.
"Chris," he said out loud.
Spock had stolen Chris? Why?
Then the rest rolled in on
top of that memory. The dream channeler,
what she had done to try to save him, how he had killed Alesson. Their time on Starbase Two, how she had comforted
him, helped him. How he still hadn't
been able to sleep.
He could feel his hands
shaking.
"I can stop now,"
Spock said.
"I want it all
back," Kirk said, flinching as the memories of the nightmares he'd had
flew back at him, surrounding him, trying to pull him under.
You're just nightmares, he
told them. Go away.
Miraculously, he felt them
subside.
Spock sighed, let the meld
ease. "The neural pathways have
healed since I took these away. The
dreams may not haunt you anymore."
"Do you want credit for
that?" Kirk shifted impatiently,
refused to open his eyes. He didn't want
to see Spock right now. "You said
not so recent memories. What else did
you decide I wasn't strong enough to handle?"
"Jim, it was never like
that."
"Just give them back,
Spock. Give them back and get out."
"Of course." Spock reinitiated the meld.
"Oh, god." Kirk felt a huge weight settle on him as
Spock seemed to dig through his memories of months past. "Rayna."
Grief, enduring and terrible
settled over him. As raw as the day he'd
lost her, the grief was worse for knowing that he'd forgotten her all this
time. "How could you?" he
breathed.
"I am sorry, Jim. I thought it best."
"What else?" Kirk
screamed into the meld. "What else
did you steal?"
Spock was gone for a long time. Kirk could feel him far away, in memories
grown dim now. Memories from early in
their mission.
"Jim, are you
sure?"
"Just do it." Then he realized what Spock was giving back
to him and felt a shiver run up his spine, settling in his arms. "No.
Oh god, Spock. How could
you?"
Edith. He'd let Edith die. He'd let the woman he loved die. For the sake of humanity. For the sake of the world.
He wrenched away from Spock,
felt as if part of his mind was tearing as he broke the meld before Spock was
ready. Spock cried out.
Kirk heard the terrible
squeal of the truck's brakes, the awful thud as it hit Edith, sent her
flying. "No." He sank to the floor. "No, god, no."
"Jim."
"Get out. Get out."
He heard Spock flee.
"Get out."
----------------------
There was a frantic pounding
on her door. Chapel hurried to it,
wondering if her chime was out.
Spock rushed in. His face was flushed a dark green and his
eyes were wild. "You must help
him."
"You told
him?" She saw him nod, the gesture
unnaturally fast for him.
Everything about Spock
screamed panic.
"And he wanted it
back?" she asked.
"Yes. All of it.
Why?" He grabbed her
arms. "Why would he want that back? I do not understand."
"It's all right. I'll go to him."
"He will never forgive
me," Spock said.
She had never heard anyone
sound so forlorn.
"Jim is a good man. He will forgive you. In time." She touched his hair, stroked it like she
would a small child. "Go to your
quarters, Spock. Meditate."
"Yes. I must do that. I must calm myself. I must gain control."
She nodded. Hurried out, trusting he could find his
quarters on his own.
The lift seemed to take
forever, and it made too many stops during the busy dinner hour. She wanted to push everyone out and hit the
emergency bypass. But she waited.
Finally it arrived at his
deck, and she hurried out and down the corridor to his quarters. She rang for
admittance but there was no answer. She
hit the switch, "Chapel, Christine, Ensign. Emergency medical bypass authorization
four-five-five-beta."
The door opened. She saw Kirk on the floor, rocking slowly,
tears streaming down his face.
"Oh,
sweetheart." She approached him
carefully, not sure what he would want from her, if anything.
He looked up. "Chris?" He seemed relieved to see her. "Chris."
"I'm here."
"I forgot
you." He pulled her down, onto his
lap, hugged her close. "How could I
forget you?"
"It's okay."
"And Rayna. He took her away."
She pulled away. Wiped his cheeks. "I know." She waited.
"Edith." He searched her face. "You know he took Edith?"
"I know."
"You found
out?" Kirk pulled her close, kissed
her desperately. "You found
out?"
She nodded.
"Why?" His voice was so broken, the one word coming out
in a voice unnaturally high and cracked.
"How could he?"
"He loves you, Jim. He was only trying to help."
"He stole my
memories," he screamed at her.
She flinched and he was
immediately hugging her close.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He was shaking hard. His skin was freezing.
"Shhh." She crawled off him. Pulled him up. "Come on."
"Stay with me,
Chris."
"I'm not going
anywhere." She led him into the
bedroom. Drew back the covers, and
pushed him gently into the bed, pulling off his boots and her own before
crawling in next to him.
She tucked the covers around
them both, pulled him close and rubbed his back as he hugged her almost
painfully close.
When he was finally quiet,
she said, "Tell me about them?"
He looked at her.
"I mean it. If you want to. I'm here.
And I'd like to know."
He looked down. Then he began to talk. He started with Rayna. The tragic girl's story broke Chapel's heart.
They had both loved androids,
she realized. She wondered why life was
so cruel.
Then he told her about
Edith. All the things McCoy had never
realized. She had never realized how
huge a sacrifice Kirk had made, how much he had given up for the rest of them. So that they could exist.
She loved him even more than
before.
Then he began to tell her of
a third person. It took Chapel a moment
to realize he was talking about her. She
smiled at him, kissed him on the forehead tenderly.
He pulled her closer, kissed
her hard, ripping off her clothes as he did so.
She didn't try to stop him, helped him get his own off. He was like a man possessed. His lips moved over her body, his hands
stroking and prodding. He was tender one
moment, fierce the next.
"Lost you," he kept
muttering.
She let him do whatever he
wanted, kissing him wherever she could reach, her hands moving over his body,
holding and fondling and stroking.
Then he was inside her and
she had to close her eyes. She had
thought this feeling was gone forever.
"Chris, look at
me."
She opened her eyes, let him
see how moved she was. Tears ran down
her cheeks in a silent fall.
He kissed her, his mouth so
tender on hers that she sobbed.
"He stole from both of
us," Kirk said softly. His voice
was low. Dangerous.
"Yes. He did."
"My friend." Kirk's mouth twisted horribly. "My best goddamn friend." Tears came to his eyes and he tried to pull
away.
She held him to her. "No, whatever you feel, that's
fine. Whatever you want to do, I'm
here. But don't hide from me. Don't hide."
He kissed her then began to
move inside her again. An angry tear
rolled down his face, dripped down to her cheek.
He kissed it off.
She thought her heart would
break for him. "Jim," she
whispered. Then she said it again and
again. Because she could. And because no one would ever be able to take
that away from her again.
-------------------
Kirk woke slowly to the sound
of his message console beeping insistently.
He looked over at where Chapel lay tangled in the covers and
smiled.
He scratched at his eyes. They felt puffy and sore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd
cried. He could never remember having
wept with such intensity. Talking to her
about the memories had helped. Talking
and loving her when the talking was over.
The grief was still there, but not so raw, not so overwhelming.
And Spock had been right
about the neural pathways. They did seem
to have healed. He'd slept a deep sleep,
with just normal dreams. They hadn't
been particularly pleasant, but they also hadn't been the full-bore nightmares
that Alesson's apparatus had spawned.
The message console beeped
louder. He sighed, eased out of bed and
pulled on a robe. He checked the
incoming messages; the last one was from Starfleet command, from Nogura's office. He coded in the frequency, waited for the
call to connect.
He heard Chapel stirring, saw
her look over at him. He smiled softly,
put his finger to his lips and made a face.
She nodded, lay back and watched him with a gentle smile on her
face. The covers had slipped, exposing
her breasts. She pulled them up.
He reached over and pulled
them back down. She smiled. He smiled bigger.
She was back. She was back and she was his and he wasn't
going to let anyone take her away from him.
Except medical school. He'd let her go for that. He smiled at her again, then turned to the
terminal as Nogura came on.
"Jim?" Nogura frowned. "You don't look so hot."
"You try being tortured
and then trapped in your ex-girlfriend's body, sir."
"Enough said. Glad you came through both all
right." Nogura leaned back, his
face taking on what Kirk had dubbed his "Snake Oil Salesman"
look. "I have a proposition for you."
Kirk steeled himself. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be
anything he liked.
"How'd you like to be
head of Fleet Ops, Jim?"
Kirk's eyes widened. He looked over at Chapel. She smiled, happy for him.
"It's a great honor,
sir, for you to ask, but--"
"--Don't give me any
hooey about not being able to leave the Enterprise. You're going to bring the Enterprise
home. It's time for her to be refitted
anyway. It'll be a year at least before
she's ready to put out again."
Kirk could feel his smile
fading. "Refits, sir?"
"That's right. Time to modernize."
Including the captain, Kirk
guessed.
"We'll talk more when
you get back. Maybe by then I'll be
calling you Admiral, eh?" Nogura
barked out some laughter.
Kirk just nodded as the
connection went dead.
"Refits," Chapel
said softly.
"Refits," Kirk
echoed with a shake of his head. Janice
wouldn't have gotten much out of her takeover.
Two days he'd had to get the ship to Starbase II and turn Coleman and
her over to the Federation authorities.
Then however long it took to get them home from here. He laughed.
"What?"
"I'm just thinking how
furious Janice would have been. Work
that hard to get the Enterprise, only to have it yanked away." He shook his head.
"When are you going to
tell the crew?"
He sighed. "Well, no time like the present,
huh?"
She nodded.
"Kirk to bridge."
"Lieutenant Lisa here,
sir."
"Ship-wide announcement,
Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir." A
second later, she said, "You can go ahead, Captain."
Captain. He loved the sound of that. He didn't think
Admiral would sound half so satisfying as his current title did.
"Attention, all
personnel. This is Captain Kirk. I've just received notification from
Starfleet Command that our mission is officially at an end. We're going home." He could imagine the excitement of some
crewmembers, the disappointment of others.
"It has been the highest honor to serve with all of you. No captain has ever had a better crew. Kirk out."
He took a deep breath.
Chapel crawled over to him
and he moved to the bed.
"That was nice."
"Nice." He shook his head. "What am I going to do at a desk,
Chris?"
"Well, I don't
know. Find a way to make a difference,
like you always do, I guess."
He smiled at her. Touched by her faith in him.
She looked down. "And maybe it's selfish of me, but I'm kind
of glad to hear that you'll be around."
"Maybe more than you
want."
She shook her head. "Not
possible. I lost you, remember?"
"Yeah, about that. Why'd you just let me go?"
She shrugged, her expression
sheepish. "I haven't had the best
experiences. Men do that sometimes. Walk away."
"I don't."
She nodded. "I should have known that."
"Yes, you should
have. If I ever do it again, I want you
to assume anything but that I wanted to do it." He kissed her, pulled away only when his door
chime rang. "Better get covered
up."
Her expression was
startled. "You don't want me to go
in the bathroom or something?"
He shook his head. "Not unless you want to?" He grinned.
"Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them."
He opened the door, saw
McCoy. Barely got "Bones," out
before McCoy pushed past him.
"What in the Sam hell is
going on here, Jim? The mission's
over? What are you thin--" He saw Chapel and stopped dead.
"Why, Chris," Kirk
said with a grin. "We've finally found
a way to stop one of his rants."
She laughed. "Hi, Len. You weren't supposed to barge in."
"Oh. Yeah."
He turned around. "So are
they giving you another ship?"
"Not exactly." Kirk forced himself to smile.
"Don't tell me you're
taking a desk job?"
"Looks like. Director of Fleet Operations, I
think." He winked at Chapel.
She smiled back.
McCoy made a face. "Sounds great. Won't be.
You belong in space, Jim."
"I don't think I have a
choice." Kirk suddenly wished McCoy
would go away.
"Bull." McCoy stomped to the door. "If you do this, Jim, it will be the
biggest mistake you ever make. I promise
you that."
"Maybe you could be a
little supportive of him," Chapel said.
Her fierceness surprised
Kirk. It also pleased him.
"I'll leave that to you,
Christine." McCoy stared at the two
of them, then shook his head.
"Cussed damn fool, don't say I didn't warn you," he said to
Kirk, as he barreled back out the door.
Kirk stared at the
doors. "I wish he'd speak his
mind."
Chapel laughed. "Come here. I'll make you forget all about him."
He shot her a look.
"Sorry. Bad choice of words."
"And don't you forget
it," he said, his tone very firm.
Then he frowned. "That's a hard word not to use."
"You see the
problem."
"I'd rather see you." He walked over to her, pulling the covers off
her. He felt very possessive of her,
wanted to show her that he cared, that he did need her. That she was his.
And he was hers.
She smiled as he stared down
at her. "You gonna look all day, or
you gonna do something with me now that you've stolen all my covers?"
"I'll take option number
two," he said as he joined her on the bed.
Option number two took them
quite a while to fully explore.
Chapel's message console was
blinking when she got back from Kirk's quarters. She brought up the message, was surprised to
see it was from Spock. It was short and
direct, as she'd expect. "I must
speak with you. Please come to my
quarters."
She hurried out of her
quarters, headed up to his. Rang his
bell.
He answered immediately. He was out of uniform, dressed in a dark
robe.
"You wanted to see
me?" For all the times she'd been
at Spock's door on one pretext or another, Chapel didn't think she'd ever
uttered those words.
"Yes. Please come in." Spock moved aside to let her pass.
She walked into the room and
stopped short at the sight of the bare walls and cabinets, two bags sitting
neatly by the bed. "What...?"
"I am leaving the
ship."
She turned to face him. "Leaving?"
"I heard the
announcement. The ship is to go into
refits, the mission is over. It is time
for me to go." He looked away. As if afraid to meet her eyes.
That was something Spock
never did.
"You're leaving
him. You're running away."
He did look at her then, and
she thought his eyes contained a spark of some strong emotion, but she couldn't
decide if it was pain or fear or possibly anger.
"Spock, you made a
mistake. And you hurt someone--several
someones--in the process. Including
yourself, because now you feel bad too.
It's how it works. We hurt
someone, and we hurt. We feel
guilty. Sick inside. It's a natural reaction. We've all been there." She sat down on the bed, as if by settling in
the room she could make him stay on the ship.
"It is not a place I
intend to stay." His voice was
firm, but he sat down in his desk chair.
"And you won't have
to. Not forever. Jim's a good man, and he's your friend. He loves you.
And he'll forgive you, but you have to give him time to do that."
"How much time?"
She smiled sadly. "As much time as he needs."
"Ah." Spock looked down. "And how much time do you think he
needs, Christine?"
"I don't know how much
time he'll need. He's hurt now, and very
angry. He's going to have to separate
what you did from what Alesson did."
At Spock's look of disbelief, she shrugged helplessly. "I think, right now they're running
together. Pain and betrayal. From his worst enemy and his best
friend."
He looked away again. His lips set tightly.
"But he loves you,
Spock. He will forgive you."
"It does not feel that
way." He actually grimaced.
"What?"
"I use human terms so
easily now." He put a disdainful
emphasis on the word 'human.'
"You're upset because
you said 'feel'? Well, you do feel,
Spock. And we both know it. I saw you last night. How frantic you were. Despite all your Vulcan logic, you do
feel."
He nodded slowly. "That can be changed."
"What?"
He rose slowly. "It is time for me to choose my
path."
"Your path is with Jim Kirk."
He shook his head slowly,
sadly. "I do not think it is."
"Where will you
go?"
"Back to Vulcan. There is a place there...a place of pure
logic."
"And no emotion?"
"Precisely." His tone was cold, cutting, and very final.
He gathered up his bags.
"You're leaving
now?"
"Yes. I am meeting a shuttle bound for Vulcan. It will arrive at Starbase Two in one point
five hours." He headed for the
door.
"You're not going to say
goodbye? To Jim? To Len?"
She got up hurriedly, stepped in front of him as if she could keep him
from going. "You can't just
leave."
"I can. And I must.
I am retiring from Starfleet; everything is in order."
"Not everything. Jim doesn't know."
"He will. Eventually." He set the bags down, moved her gently
aside. "Say goodbye to him for
me. And to Doctor McCoy."
"No."
"You must, of course, do
as you think best." He touched her
hand, an odd expression on his face.
"You will have to watch out for Jim now. You will do that?"
"You know I will."
"Do you know what he
will do?"
"Why don't you ask him
yourself?"
He gave her a longsuffering
look and she relented.
"He's been offered a job
at Command."
He nodded, as if the news was
not unexpected, but also not particularly welcome. "He will not thrive at a desk. I do not think you will find him an easy
person to be with in those circumstances."
He pulled his hand away.
"But I know that you love him, and that he loves you. I am...sorry that I took that away."
"Spock, can't you see? I forgive you for that. He will too.
Just give him the time to do that.
Don't run away."
"I am not
running." His mouth lifted
slightly, in what looked to be a small smile.
"I am walking purposefully toward my destiny."
"A destiny without
Jim?"
"I am afraid
so." He held up his hand in the
Vulcan salute. "Live long and
prosper, Doctor Chapel."
"I'm not a doctor
yet."
"You will be. Tell Jim...tell Jim that I am sorry. For everything." Then he turned and walked out of his
quarters.
Chapel stared at the closed
doors. "Live long and prosper,
Spock." Then she walked to the
communications console. "But if you
think I'm going to let you run away without telling him, you don't know me at
all."
Then she wondered if maybe he
was counting on that.
"Chapel to Kirk."
"Kirk here." He sounded different, almost happy. A new intimacy seemed to have crept into his
voice, even on those two innocent words.
"Sir," she said,
knowing that would get his attention.
"You need to get down to the transporter room at once. To say goodbye to a friend."
There was a pause.
"At once, sir."
"On my way. Thank you, Chris." The line stayed open. He must have run out from wherever he was
without saying 'Kirk out.'
"Chapel out," she
said softly. The line went dead.
"Hurry," she urged
him. Hoping that he would be able to
find the words to make Spock stay.
Knowing that the probability was not high.
-----------------------------
Kirk rushed down to the
transporter room, nearly knocking over a startled crewman as he rounded the
corner. "Sorry," he yelled,
not slowing.
There had been a frantic note
in Chris's voice. He could only think of
one friend who might want to leave the ship without saying goodbye to him.
"Wait," he
whispered. "Please wait."
Spock was just climbing onto
the platform when Kirk barreled into the room.
"Sir?" the startled
transporter operator asked.
"Could you give us some
time alone, Chief?"
"Of course,
sir." She left the room.
Spock set his bags down on
one of the pads, turned to face Kirk.
"Christine called you."
"Yes, she did."
"She seemed quite
adamant that I should not leave without saying goodbye."
"She was right. She usually is." Kirk walked to the pad, stood at the bottom
of the stairs, staring up at Spock.
Trying to figure out why this was happening. "Where are you going?"
"Home."
That hurt. Kirk wondered if Spock meant it to. "You used to say your home was
here. With us."
"With you, you
mean." Spock shook his head. "Our mission is over. We may be separated."
"Then we stay friends
even though we aren't together as crewmates.
That's par for the course in a fleet this size." He took a step, saw Spock's face tighten and
decided not to push him. Yet. "What will you do on Vulcan?"
"Have you heard of
Gol?"
Kirk felt his face
freeze. A shiver seemed to crawl down
his spine. "You're going
there?"
Spock nodded. "There is a discipline called the
Kohlinar. It is the pursuit of pure
logic."
"What of
emotion?" Kirk could barely get the
question out.
"All emotion is
purged. Expunged."
"Thrown out. Like garbage." Anger filled him and Kirk didn't try to hide
it. "What the hell, Spock? This is what you do because you screw
up? You throw away the feelings that
made you do it in the first place? You
throw out us? Me?"
Spock took a deep breath, did
not answer.
Kirk could feel his mouth
twist, the anger inside him turned mean.
"I guess that's par for the course.
How different is it than what you did to me? Don't like something? Get rid of it. Don't deal with it. Don't admit to it. Just erase it. Purge it." He did take a step up, then another. Ended up in Spock's face. "Just throw it away."
Spock looked angry. "You and McCoy have ridden me for the
past five years about showing emotion.
Wished for me to let it out. The
few times I have made decisions purely on feeling, they are wrong. They hurt you and now you are angry at
me. I do not know if you will ever trust
me again." He closed his eyes. "And it hurts. Why would I choose this? This pain?" He opened his eyes, they were steel. "There has to be more."
"And you think you'll
find it in logic?"
"I will soon discover
that. I go to Gol as soon as I arrive
home."
Again that word. This time Kirk knew Spock was using it to
hurt him. And this time it didn't sting
so much as anger him. "Fine,
Spock. If you're that big a fool, go
home. Go to that planet you hate."
"I have never
said--"
"You didn't have to say
it. You stayed here, with me, with all
of us. For all these years. Not because you had to, but because you
wanted to. Because this was the only
place you ever felt at home. At
peace."
Spock looked down. "Please call the transporter technician
back in. I will be late for my
shuttle."
Kirk smiled meanly. "Somehow I doubt that. You've no doubt built the chance for this
confrontation into your timetable.
You're like that, Spock.
Thorough." He backed
away. "You're always welcome
back. I want you to know that."
"Does that mean you
forgive me?" Spock's voice was
almost taunting.
"No."
"I did not think
so."
Kirk stepped off the platform
and walked to the door.
"Jim?"
He stopped.
"Live long and
prosper."
Kirk turned slowly. He stared at Spock, trying to reach him, to
make some sort of connection that could cut through the anger and hurt he felt,
that he knew Spock felt too. There was
nothing. "Peace and long life,
Spock. I hope you find whatever it is
that you're looking for." He didn't
wait for Spock to answer, just hurried out the door.
The transporter tech looked
up. "Sir?"
"Sorry for the delay,
Chief. Carry on."
"Yes, sir." She hurried back to her station.
Kirk turned, looked through
the doors. Spock was staring out at him,
no emotion on his face, or in the dark intensity of his gaze. The doors closed and Kirk turned away.
Chris was standing at the end
of the hall, her face one of compassion and misery. He walked toward her, felt his throat tighten
and tried to swallow.
"Come on," she
said, as she took his arm.
He let her guide him, not
caring if anyone saw them. What did it
matter? They'd soon be off the ship, on
Earth. Together. He could be with this warm, gentle woman who
wouldn't be afraid to love him.
"Thank you for calling
me," he whispered.
"I'm sorry he's
leaving," she answered as she steered him into the turbolift, called for
deck five.
He leaned against the wall,
feeling old, tired. "Are you sure
I'm not still on that damned dream channeler, Chris? I'm losing everything. Spock, this ship, nearly you."
"I'm afraid this is real
life." She followed him off the
lift.
He palmed open the door to
his quarters, stepped inside. Her arms
went around him as soon as the door closed.
He held her tightly, burying his head in her neck, letting the warm
smell of her comfort him as he fought back tears.
He loved her for not telling
him to let go. He loved her for not
telling him it was going to be all right.
He loved her for just holding him silently, her hands running down his
back, through his hair, her every touch a comfort.
"I love you," he
whispered.
She tensed, pulled back and
studied his face. She stroked his cheek,
smiled gently and kissed him on the forehead.
"Tell me that someday when your heart isn't breaking."
"I will."
She kissed him again, this
time on the lips. Easy, comforting
kisses. "I love you too, Jim."
He pulled her closer. "He's really gone."
"I know." She pushed him to his bed, curled up next to
him on top of the covers. "I hate
that I found out what he did." She
kissed his cheek. "And I
don't. I lost you because of him."
Kirk nodded. "It was wrong."
"Yes. He doesn't understand that pain makes us
grow."
"He doesn't want to
understand."
"Forgive him, Jim. Or it will eat away at you."
He nodded, found himself
again wishing that he could be as flexible as she was. As able to bend in the wind.
But he wasn't able to
bend. He'd stand. Or he'd break. But he would not bend.
She was watching him, a
worried look on her face.
"I'm all right."
She nodded.
"I have to get back to
the bridge," he said.
"Just a few more
minutes." She curled against him
again.
He closed his eyes, imagined
having this all the time. Her warm body
pressed against his, her sweetness. Her
love. He could get used to it. He pulled her closer, kissed her. Passionately this time. Wanting her.
Wanting to blot out the scene in the transporter room.
She pushed him away
gently. "That's the not the
way. And you have to get back to the bridge,
remember?"
"Maybe it's the only
way."
"No. I don't believe that." She held her hand against his chest. "It hurts. Let it.
Deal with it. Don't try to bury
it."
He looked away. Wasn't that what he'd just tried to tell
Spock?
She kissed him brusquely. "Time to get up, Captain Kirk. Our future lies ahead."
He smiled, shaking his
head. "I told you to have
faith."
"And you were
right. It arrived and here we
are." Her eyes glistened with
tears. "And everything's
terrible."
"Not everything. You're wonderful." He kissed her slowly, trying to show her that
he did love her, did believe she was one of the few good things left in his
life.
She sighed, but he couldn't
tell if the sound was happy or sad. He
pulled away, stared at her.
She smiled, the expression
the one he'd first learned to love in that awful cell. The smile that said "It's going to be
all right." The smile that said she
trusted him and had faith in him. That
she believed in him no matter what.
He smiled back, then pulled
her up. "Back to work."
She nodded, followed him off
the bed. She reached over, smoothed his
hair. "You have bed hair."
"I hope to have that a
lot with you around."
She smiled, a happy
smile. Happy, despite the rest. That's what they could be. Happy, despite the rest.
"Do you want to tell Len
about Spock, or should I?"
He took a deep breath. "Bones isn't happy with me right
now."
"He just thinks you're
making a mistake giving up your ship."
"I don't have a
choice." He wondered if Spock believed
that he'd had no choice. Was he taking
the worse of two options because he couldn't think of a way out?
"Not any that are
appealing," she agreed.
"Although, for the record, I'd follow you into space on a
freighter."
He grinned. "I believe you would too." He sighed.
"I'll tell Bones.
Later."
She nodded. Kissed him and drew him to the door. They rode the lift up to the bridge together,
he left her in it as he walked to his chair.
He looked back; she was watching him, her eyes full of loving concern.
He smiled just before the
doors closed, saw her smile back. His
future. She was warm and human. And she loved him.
He looked around the bridge,
watched his crew work. His crew, his
bridge, his ship. Soon to be someone
else's. He sighed. He'd always known this moment would
come. That eventually he'd have to leave
the ship behind. He'd just thought he'd
be readier for it than he felt.
Early in his career, he'd
wanted to make admiral. Now he'd give
all the likelihood of that for one more year as captain of the Enterprise.
Unfortunately, no one was
going to take him up on that deal. The
next step in his career awaited, whether he wanted it or not.
"Heading, sir?"
Chekov asked softly.
"Home. Take us home, Mister Chekov."
"Aye-aye, sir. Setting course for Earth."
"Warp factor four,
Mister Sulu."
"Warp four, aye,
sir." Sulu turned around, looked at
him. His eyes were full of the same
nostalgia Kirk felt. "If I might make
a suggestion, sir?"
"I'm open to
those."
"We could take the long
way home?"
Kirk laughed. "We could." He began to smile, imagined Command's
irritation. "Do it. Take the scenic route." He looked around the bridge again, this time
catching the eye of each member of his crew, leaving them with a grin, a
different one for each of them, expressions that he'd perfected over years of
getting to know them. "Let's see
the sights, shall we?"
They all smiled.
"Adjusting course
to"--Chekov's grin was huge--"the scenic route."
"Warp four, Mister Sulu."
"Aye, sir. Warp four."
The ship sped away from
Starbase 2, leaving behind his best friend.
The first of many friends he'd have to say goodbye to.
He'd think about that once
they got home. If they ever did. Chekov was doing some interesting things to
his console. Kirk wondered how long the
scenic tour was going to take.
He leaned back in this
chair. Smiled. Years would be fine with him.
FIN