Notes:More Nero/Ayel slash, yay! This time set during their stay on Rura Penthe, perhaps during the latter stages when Nero is trying to find a way to get to Spock. The drug references come from the comic series Star Trek: Nero, which is an awesome read, so this is pre-Nero#2.

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Meaningless

Ayel sat in the prisoner's common room, watching in silence. Most of the crew had returned to the mines, but a few of them had remained. The ones that had fallen ill. He watched as one of the women staggered into the corridor to retire to her cell, either to sleep or to die. She had been sick for weeks now and it wasn't getting any better. She worked hard, as the Klingons expected from the Narada's crew, but she wasn't strong enough to fight the sickness. Two other prisoners had died, but she had been able to hold on the longest. They all remained strong while the Captain still refused to break his silence.

Ayel sighed and stared at the door to the complex, almost wishing for Nero to return. He had been taken by the guards three days ago and was still missing. Nero was considered to be a demon by the Klingons as, despite the torture and the hard labour, he remained silent. Even when he had been ill, barely managing to keep down his rations, he still remained strong. Nero was an admiration to the crew and it kept them alive. But Ayel couldn't deny that Nero was now a different man. Not so much as what had happened prior to their incarceration, but to how he had changed at Rura Penthe. But if he would survive, then change was inevitable.

Almost as if in response to his wish, the doors ahead of Ayel opened and the guards came in. They carried Nero between them and Ayel felt the room go silent. Everyone stared at them, at Nero. It seemed to get worse every time they took him. There were rips in the thin fabric of Nero's trousers, blood staining through and dying the dirty grey a metallic green. His upper torso was bare and slashed in numerous places, the deeper ones oozing blood along his muscles. With the black ink and the copper blood, there was barely an inch of Nero's skin that was its usual colour. Ayel glared harshly at the guards; Nero was their favourite prey.

"You'll never make him speak," Ayel snarled as he got to his feet.

"That's not for you to predict, Romulan!" the guard replied with a sneer.

The other Romulans had gathered around, staring with a mixture of concern and respect at their injured Captain. Ayel stood in front of them, glancing at Nero for a moment, but he made no movement. Was he unconscious? No. He was just listening.

"We'll break him," the other guard noted. "Eventually."

"Then you'll have to be very patient," Ayel muttered, dangerously.

The guards threw Nero back to the Romulans, all of them homing in to support his battered body. They helped him into Ayel's arms, the first officer noticing a slight smile of satisfaction on Nero's lips. Then he began to tremble and it almost looked like he was going to throw up.

"I'll take him back," Ayel noted. "Everyone, you should get back to work."

The other Romulans agreed and Ayel carefully dragged Nero back along the corridor, watching as his blood began to stain his own clothes. He was barely able to walk and Ayel wondered how he could endure it as well as he did. He had never known a stronger man than Nero, but surely there was a limit even for him. Nero was still shaking a little, but once they returned to Ayel's cell, he realised it was from laughter more than pain. Ayel shook his head and helped his Captain to sit down. Had he really gone completely mad?

"You can't keep this up forever," he hissed. "You know that, don't you?"

Nero smiled painfully, blood still dripping from his teeth and split lips.

"So long as we keep low for a while and try no more escapes, it might be enough time for some of the crew to regain their strength! Do you know that Rhian is still sick? She's at her limit! You are the one who works the best in the mines and the Klingons know this. They force us to work harder to cover for your absences and it's making some of us ill! For the sake of our crew sir, no more escape attempts!"

The glint in Nero's pitch black eyes suggested otherwise.

"Nero!" Ayel whispered as harshly as he could. "Listen to me for once!"

But Nero wasn't interested. He raised a hand and traced the tendon on Ayel's neck with his fingers, leaning in closer. His other hand reached low to grasp Ayel's hip and pull him to him, the smile turning into a suggestive smirk. Ayel sighed, but his fingers had already begun caressing the open wounds left from Nero's torture. He lowered his head to Nero's ear.

"At least tell me when you're planning something," he noted.

Nero remained still for a moment, never speaking.

Ayel pressed harder on one of Nero's wounds, gaining a response. "You can't keep everything from me, you know. We all want to get out of here; we all want to find Spock. But how can we do that when you're off on your own doing whatever it is you do! One day..."

But Nero silenced him by biting on his lower lip, drawing blood. Ayel's hands continued to soothe Nero's body, occasionally diverting to trace the marks on his back. Nero moved his head, his coarse stubble rubbing against Ayel's neck. He could feel Nero's warm breath now against the back of his neck, and his fingers gently stroking the soft skin under his ears. Ever since Nero had first been tortured on Rura Penthe, Ayel had noticed this change in him. During the few days on the Narada since they first engaged in this unusual relationship, it had always been forceful and violent. But here, Nero had become almost affectionate, even though it was most likely due to the weakness he suffered from existing here.

Ayel pulled Nero's body to him and wrapped himself around him, beginning to feel hard and needy. Was three days really that long? He moaned as Nero bit into his ear and pulled on it, almost playfully, but always drawing blood. Nero enjoyed the taste of copper blood, from either of them. Ayel almost wondered if he gained some personal satisfaction of irritating the Klingons, maybe even enjoying the pain he felt. But he doubted it, as he remembered how his Captain always felt content to be back in his arms. Ayel allowed himself a small smile as he rocked his body against Nero, feeling his grazing teeth shift to his neck.

"Don't get yourself killed," he whispered. "You're worth more than that."

He felt Nero smile into his neck. Then Ayel wondered how Nero felt about him. He obviously still grieved for his wife; otherwise he wouldn't put himself through all the torture he did. But here, as they lay on the cold floor of the cell in each other's arms, they felt almost connected. It felt for a moment that it was about more than the controlling of hate and the lust for inflicting pain to feel anything other than emptiness. It almost felt like love. And in a strange way, it was. Even if for Nero it was about relieving the cold emotions, for Ayel it made him breathless and filled him with excitement. Perhaps even for Nero, it often seemed like more.

After a moment or two, Ayel felt Nero press something into his hand. He pushed his Captain away for a moment to look at it. It was a vial containing a clear liquid. He frowned at it for a moment. These were the same drugs that some of his crew took to ease their minds and help them sleep. While it appeared to have no obvious effects on their personality, Ayel still disapproved of taking drugs. He looked at Nero again.

"Why do you want me to have this?" he asked.

Nero leaned forwards and pressed his tongue against Ayel's cheek, licking the inked pattern until he reached the tip of his ear. He bit the ear tip sharply, Ayel drawing in his breath in pleasure. He was glad to have Nero's distractions from the misery of this prison but sometimes, he wanted him to be more attentive.

"I have my dose," he noted. "But I don't want to take it."

Nero's fingers worked their way to the back of Ayel's neck where they pressed hard against the bone. He dug his nails in next, scraping away some of the skin and drawing blood. Ayel arched his back a little, feeling Nero's hardness pressing into him, enough to match his own. How could Nero be this turned on after he'd been under the Klingon lash for three days?

"I don't want to resort to taking drugs to ease my mind," Ayel added, his tone almost a little sharp. "And I hope that you don't either."

Nero raised his head a little, the same, almost absent smile on his face.

"Don't tell me that you do?" Ayel asked, a little sterner than he wanted.

He wasn't there to give Nero orders of course, but he did want to look after his wellbeing. Nero grasped his upper arms tightly and pulled him closer, one hand reaching upwards to grasp his throat. Ayel felt the heat from Nero's body and shuddered inwardly, revelling in this closeness. He felt Nero's dry lips pressing against his ear, a sharp contrast with the wetness of his tongue as he licked the cartilage.

"Why Nero?" Ayel asked, his voice quieter again.

Nero mouthed the words take it into his ear. Ayel had become accustomed to listening to him this way. He was still defiant as ever in maintaining his silence and would not even speak to his crew. Ayel sighed and leaned into Nero more, concentrating on what he was trying to say. Open, he continued. It opens. What was he trying to say?

"I don't understand," Ayel murmured.

Nero's other hand travelled low until he grasped Ayel's waistband, hooking his fingers inside it. It opens your mind. He repeated it several times before Ayel eventually understood. It probably did just that, he thought with disapproval. Nero was probably drugged up to the eyeballs. Ayel pushed him away, but Nero didn't want him to let go. He pulled him back again, dropping his hand further to Ayel's thigh and squeezing tight. Ayel groaned longingly and arched his back with sheer delight, feeling harder than ever as Nero shifted a little.

Ayel began to feel the excitement boiling up inside him as Nero pressed their lips together roughly, using teeth and tongue. In a way, it felt good to know that some of the aggression had returned to the Captain. The hard pressure always had Ayel gasping for breath and aching for more, and he had missed some of that since they'd been on Rura Penthe. But Ayel could feel the pain in Nero's body from the torture and the weakness from illness as he clutched him tightly, rocking against him. He was strong and endured well. Was there ever a limit?

"Alright break it up!" shouted a gruff voice.

Ayel pulled away from Nero and looked up, seeing the shadowy form of the Klingon guard in the doorway to his cell. Nero's hands still roamed and his tongue was still busy, the wetness feeling blissful on his neck, his face, his ears.

The guard sneered. "Ayel, you're coming with me."

Slowly, Ayel got to his feet but Nero grabbed his wrist. He looked down at his Captain, who was once again offering the vial. The look in his eyes was strongly telling him to take the drug. He didn't want to, but Nero seemed to need him to take it. It opens you mind, he had said. What exactly did that mean?

"Come on," the guard grunted. "Or I'll break your legs and drag you with me!"

Ayel took the vial, watching as Nero rolled onto his back and collapsed there, seemingly spent of energy. Taking the drug seemed to be meaningless, but looking at Nero passed out on the floor, bruised and bleeding, Ayel could find meaning. If he wanted it, then he would do it. Sighing, he drained the liquid from the capsule and dropped it on the floor, leaving with the guard. Nero raised his head, watching as the door slammed shut.

He smiled.

At last, I can talk to you.