I'm literally making this up as I go, which isn't a good way to write, but you know. Italics=flashback

Of course, I own nothing and make no profit from this (if only)...


"We are accustomed to look upon the shackled form of a conquered monster, but there - there you could look at a thing monstrous and free."- Heart of Darkness


It had taken Christopher Pike forty-three minutes and twenty-nine seconds to stop crying.

Jim had counted. Silently, thoughtlessly inside his head and it had distracted him. It forced him to think of something other than….that. Chris had fallen asleep and slumped sideways onto the mattress, dragging Jim down with him, clutching the younger man in an iron-clad grip with white knuckles and tear tracks down his cheeks.
James should have been comforted, or at least reassured. The warmth, the heat and the way the Admirals chest rose and fell regularly and from where he lay, Jim could hear as well as feel the older man's heart beating steadily through his chest, is was meant to make it all okay. The close physical contact was supposed to help in these situations.

And yet every part of Jim, every fibre he had was screaming at him, tearing at him, telling him it was wrong. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. It's not like he wanted too.

More than anything, Jim wanted to sink into a blissful oblivion and just forget. Except he couldn't. He didn't deserve that peace, that love. What was supposed to be a soothing gesture physically hurt. It was hateful and suffocating and Jim just wanted to shove the older man away and run. God, how he wanted to run and scream and beat someone until they whimpered.

Jim blinked, startled. He didn't want that, of course he didn't. That wasn't him.

And what made Jim sicker was the fact that deep down, buried beneath these layers he refused to peel back, he knew every single disgusting word of it was true.

At some point, Jim did fall asleep but he didn't dream. He just remembered.

The rough hands that locked onto Jims arms were painful, incredibly so and the Captain fought hard to hold the cry desperate to escape his lips. He struggled vainly, trying to twist around in the aliens grip to get a glipse of the others. He could hear Cupcake swearing wildly behind him, but the rest were quiet, too scared to speak.

"Cease talking, human."

Their voices were deep, grating with this wierd sharpness at the end of every word. They were tall beings, at least nine feet tall, with rippling muscles and their skin was a murky grey, tinged with a rather beautiful blue when the light hit their smooth flesh. They were quite humanoid in shape, with two stretching legs and two burly, short arms. However, their feet were like birds feet, clawed with black feathers and from out of their broad backs, three more limbs twisted and gnarled as they walked at an iinhuman pace.

Jim found his feet just skimming the cold floor of the underground chamber with its sparkling white walls and tiled flooring. It was like an operating theatre and that made Jim feel even more fearful.

"I am James Tiberius Kirk of the USS Enterprise, I demand to know where you're taking us!" Jim cried franticaly, throwing his head back in an attempt to get a look at the creatures. "Let us go!"

The two that held him drew to a halt and shared a glance with each other, before directing their gaze at the panting human they held between them.

They had eight small, grey eyes without pupils. That was the first thing Jim noticed and their bleached lips peeled back in a snarl to reveal four rows of jagged black teeth. Their forked tounges were white and their actually head looked quite small on their shoulders, but was generally round with some sort of finn stretching from between their fourth and fifth eyes down to the nape of their necks.

Jim swallowed nervously and wasn't reassured in the slightest when the two aliens started to laugh.

"Did you hear that, Maleke? The human has a name!" The tallest one on Jims left snorted and shuddered with mirth.

"James!" The other echoed, pronouncing the 'J' as an 'sh' sound. But despite their heavy, drawn accents, their english was preety impressive.

"James!"

"Look, you have no right to hold us here! Who the hell do you think you are?" Jim growled viciously, "you release us immediatly you fugly bastards!"

The aliens stopped laughing and it all fell silent. Jim briefly wondered whether that was the appropriate thing to say considering the current circumstances.

Maleke blinked his eight eyes in unison and his tounge lashed out so quickly, Jim never even saw it. A sharp, stabbing pain took hold of his neck and the Captain didn't even have time to make a noise before he was submerged in the inky blackness of unconsiouness.

It was at ten minutes past midnight when Bones slipped into the room, both shocked and grateful at the sight of the captain and the Admiral. Bones shook his head and hesitantly, he reached forward and nudged Pike in the ribs. The older man stirred slowly, eyes blinking rapidly as the memories of the nights events came tumbling back in a wave. He looked from McCoy and back down to Jim, who even as he slept, hid away from the prying eyes and hid his face in his hands.

"Sir?" Bones spoke softly and it seemed unnatural on such a man.

"I didn't know it was this bad, McCoy." Pike muttered, gently unfolding his arms from beneath the young man and positioning him on the blankets, dark blonde hair falling further across his forehead. It had grown since Chris had last seen him, "he's so cold."

Neither men had to ask what kind of 'cold' Pike meant.

"Sir, I need to speak with you."

"What is it?" Pike winced as he stood up, bones clicking, muscles complaining with the curse of old age.

"It's Uhura."

"What about her?"

"She…" Bones trailed off, his gaze drifting back down towards the bed where from under Jims golden bangs, two dark cobalt eyes seemed to glare at Leonard McCoy, "Jim."

Chris snapped back towards Jim, touching him briefly on the cheek to get the Captains attention on him, "Jim, are you alright?"

Jim licked his lips and breathed deeply, "I'm fine."

"That's all he ever says." Bones murmured, his vision blurred as salty tears filled his eyes and he angrily blinked them away.

Pike glanced at the Doctor with something resembling sympathy in his eyes. "You're his best friend, doctor. If anyone can get through to him, it's you."

Bones rubbed the back of his neck and got down beside his friend, his pseudo brother. But he had nothing to say. He just looked Jim straight in the eyes, gaze unwavering and waited.

They waited a few minutes and during that time, Jim didn't blink once.

Finally he spoke in that same monotone. "I'm fine."

Bones slammed his hand down on the bed, his voice was furious, not with the younger man, never, "Son of a bitch! You're not fine! Stop saying you're fine! Godamit, Jim!"

Chris put his hand on Bones shoulder and firmly pushed him towards the door, looking back at the unaffected captain in the room.

"Go back to sleep, kid."

Outside, Bones slumped against the wall, head hung low, his hands balled into tight fists as he fough to control his harsh breathing.

Pike didn't remove his hand. "What about Uhura?"

Bones swallowed and straightened up, inhaling deeply as if to calm himself, "She won't stop screaming. She just keeps screaming…."

"Screaming?" Pike echoed, his deeply lined expression creasing.

"Come and see for yourself."

Pike watched McCoy stride away towards medical and after taking one last look at the crumpled form of Jim, he followed the Doctor, legs moving of their own accord.

Nyota Uhura's dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders, limp, dull. It was tangled, riddled with knots and one of nurses, Genevieve or something similar, had tried to brush them out with a touch far too gentle. Uhura didn't react, obviously. She was vaguely aware of the young woman's presence, the over-powering smell of her perfume that seemed to dim more each day Uhura remained in medical bay.

Her wounds still hadn't healed.

And she could feel another gaze on her. It seemed cold at first but she knew it was Spock. She knew and she didn't care. She wouldn't open her eyes. She knew what she would see and Uhura also knew that she could never open her eyes again. Never see the sunlight or the blue grass or the face of the man she loved. If she did that, then they'd get back. They'd have her again.

"Nyota, you're safe here, I promise."

"Uhura, what's wrong?"

"Please stop, stop!"

"Nyota, why are you doing this?"

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Spock's voice was calm, collected as it always was but there was something about it that wasn't right. That felt foreign and deafening to Nyota's ears and while she had that sense of everything being off-balance, she was all too aware how there was nothing. None of this was real.

How could any of it be real?

She never escaped. She was still stuck there in that place with the white walls and the hundreds of eyes, all haunted, all hungry and always consuming.

And so she screamed. And she didn't stop.


Please review :p Please!