Title: Long Day's Journey into Night
Author: Nemo the Everbeing
Chapter 8
Christine Chapel opened her eyes and shook her head, trying to remember where she was and why.
"Nurse," she heard a familiar voice say.
She looked up to see Spock wearing his meditation robe and tied to a chair. It was about then that she noticed her hands and legs tied together, bending her knees and making it impossible to even crawl. "Mister Spock," she said. She craned her neck around to take in the room as best she could. There was really only one conclusion she could draw: "This is where he lives, isn't it?"
"She. And yes."
Chapel nodded and tried to remain calm. "And I'm the next victim."
Spock looked away momentarily. "That seems highly likely."
"Where is she now?"
"I believe she's on her shift."
"What are our chances of escape while she's gone?"
"Negligible. The material binding my wrists seems to be a thin metal wire. Unless I wish to amputate my hands, I cannot break free. I am not quite prepared to do such a thing as of yet."
Chapel pressed lightly against her own bonds before saying, "I think I'm tied with the same material."
Spock nodded.
Chapel frowned, some ironic part of her mind thinking that that she finally got Spock into a bedroom with her. And now she was going to die. It made a strange sort of sense. "What should I expect?" she asked.
"Torture," Spock said. "Mostly with an old-style scalpel. She will urge you to admit some sort of infatuation for me."
"Oh, God," Chapel said, her cheeks burning.
"Indeed. When you admit that, she will take you away, presumably to kill you."
Christine nodded. She felt she should say something. A four-year interest in someone should probably be revealed before death. It made sense.
She didn't say a word. Instead, she found herself asking, "Why is she doing this?"
"Love. One of the most dangerous emotions in existence."
"And easily one of the most compelling," Chapel murmured, focusing her eyes on the door.
Spock inclined his head slightly.
"What if I scream for help?" she asked.
"Psychic baffling. And I believe that the same applies if you scream when she kills you."
"She can convince people they aren't seeing what they really are?" she asked. Keeping her voice steady was now a job which took a considerable effort.
"So it seems."
"Oh."
Chapel lay on the bed and tried to think of a way out of the situation. After all, she had never yet been in a predicament which was impossible from which to escape. There was always an out, or someone on the way to help her. This situation couldn't possibly be different. Her mind rejected the idea that there was no escape. Death wasn't something that she could even comprehend.
She thought that maybe that should be funny. She faced death every day. She had written more death certificates than she could remember. In all logic, she should expect death at any time, and yet she couldn't. Maybe it was a human instinct to reject one's own mortality.
Chapel focused on her bonds. They were, indeed, wire. She tried to slip her wrists free from the bonds, but the wire bit into her flesh and she stopped. Her captor had removed her boots, and so her ankles were already imprinted. She tried to estimate how much time it would take to cut through her skin. Chris found herself choking back a laugh. She was going to be tortured and brutally murdered, and she was worried about cuts on her ankles. Spock would certainly think her completely illogical.
"I don't want to die," she said.
"Understandable."
She looked at him sharply and, greatly daring, asked, "Do you want to die?"
He blinked at her. "Certainly not."
"I am going to die, though," she said. "I wonder what it'll be like. I mean, my mother believed in heaven, my father believed in nothing, and I . . . I've no idea." She closed her eyes. "But the thought that after death everything just stops is repellant."
"Nurse," Spock said, shifting in his chair.
"I'm sorry." Chapel smiled. "I feel like talking."
"I fear that I am not exceptional company."
"Well, I prefer you," she said. At Spock's slight tightening of posture, she amended, "I prefer you to someone hysterical. I'd probably lose control if anyone else did."
"I see."
"Spock—" she started.
"I believe I must inform you that I do not requite whatever interest you may hold for me," Spock said with an uncharacteristic abruptness.
Chapel found herself gaping, despite her training. After a few seconds, she regained her composure and, despite the way her stomach seemed to twist in her gut, she said, "I know." He watched her with a guarded sort of look in his eye. She almost pitied him and said, "I gave up on reciprocation years ago, Mister Spock."
Spock seemed to consider, and then finally just said, "Oh."
She nodded and felt the tension in the room relax to some degree. That is, it was relaxed as it could be with her imminent death looming on the horizon. "I didn't expect to die like this," she said. She glanced at Spock and added, "I'm being macabre. I'm sorry."
"On the contrary, were you not dwelling on this, I should become concerned."
"Emotion, Mister Spock?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Never."
Then, she heard the door beep. Something clenched in Chapel's gut and she looked in near-panic to the Vulcan. His eyes met hers and, in a moment of understanding, he said, "I shall do what I can."
Christine nodded, and the door slid open, revealing the slight form of a woman she had treated in sickbay not two weeks prior. "Lieutenant Stone?" she gasped.
Carol Stone blinked at her. "You're awake," she said. "I'm sorry I was delayed. It's important that I don't miss work."
"Nancy Wallace was your friend," Chapel said.
Stone walked over to perch on the edge of the bed next to the nurse's head. "Yes, she was."
"And you murdered her."
"I did."
"Just like you're going to murder me."
"Not exactly," Stone said, "but similarly." She reached over to a bedside table and picked out a scalpel. "If it helps, this is necessary. And I'm sorry."
"Bones!" Jim Kirk all but shouted as the doctor finished the cleanup after a successful operation on Jeffrey M'Benga. "We've got her!"
McCoy turned sharply, his heart thundering in his chest. "Her?"
"Lieutenant Carol Stone," Jim said in anguish. "We had her, Bones. We had her and she fooled us."
McCoy nodded. "She won't do it a second time."
Spock, wanting to buy at least a little time for the nurse, said, "I do not desire this woman to be harmed."
Stone turned to him and cocked her head. "Why?"
"She is a valued member of the crew."
"She can be replaced," Stone said. She started to turn back to Chapel.
"Have you considered the possible fruitlessness of your venture?" Spock asked. "You certainly cannot find all the women who harbor an admiration for me."
She turned again to regard him. "It's not something I've considered yet," she admitted. "I have a short list if threats, but I suppose I should plan further ahead. Thank you."
"Perhaps I can be of assistance if you would tell me who you have on your list already."
She smiled in bemusement. "You're stalling." She turned back to Chapel. "Hope isn't something you should give these women. It makes things harder in the end."
Jim barely noticed the security forces falling in behind the doctor and him. He knew that Ensign Stone never kept her victims for long. If they didn't hurry, both chapel and Spock may be dead.
They crowded onto the turbolift and waited.
Christine saw the scalpel coming for her face and forced herself to stare it down. She was beyond fear, she told herself. She must have control. She mustn't scream, cry, or beg.
The first cut was to her cheek, and it burned like fire. Blood welled, and started to spill. Christine bit back a whimper and looked up into the face of her attacker. Stone's expression was soft, unassuming. There was no predatory intent, simply a detached curiosity.
The next cut was deeper, and started at the corner of her mouth. Christine closed her eyes to stop the tears.
The turbolift doors opened and Jim sprinted out, turning left.
"No!" McCoy said suddenly. "We're going the wrong way."
"But the path—"
"Was a red herring." Their eyes met. "Trust me."
Jim paused for a second, and then turned to the guards. "Go to Lieutenant Stone's quarters and check them. If no one's there, I want you to locate us and get to our location as soon as possible."
The guards nodded and kept on down the left-hand tunnel. McCoy turned and dashed down the right. After a second's hesitation, Jim followed.
Spock watched the slow, deliberate torture of a woman he considered a friend. She held up remarkably, all things considered, but the tears were escaping her control, and her body was quaking from the pain.
He prepared to keep his promise to her. He would do what he could.
Mentally, he told himself that pain was irrelevant, a thing to be controlled. One could survive without hands . . .
Leonard McCoy had no idea what was guiding him. All he knew was that there was a way to go, and he had to follow it. He had to find Spock and something in his head tightened with every step.
He was almost there . . .
Spock tensed his muscles and the wire began to bite into his skin. The flesh parted and he felt something warm and wet flow down his hands.
He couldn't think of his hands or he'd lose his nerve.
He took a deep breath and . . .
The door slid open.
There was no one inside.
Four security guards immediately called for computer assistance.
The door slid open and Leonard charged in. Kirk stopped in the door as though trapped in a web.
Everything stopped. Spock's head whipped around and he regarded his bondmate with shock. He felt everything in him still at the apparition. It was not possible, yet there he was. Leonard was alive, and the presence in his head burst upon him with a sudden intensity. Forgotten was the pain in his (thankfully still attached) hands. Forgotten was his predicament and the woman standing not five feet from him. Everything faded until all he could see was the man in the door.
There was a noise from the bed which broke his concentration. Stone, who had paused mid-incision to stare at the doctor in bewilderment, had just pulled the scalpel free of Chapel's face and turned to face Leonard fully.
Christine said, "Doctor!"
"What are you here for?" Stone asked, looking bewildered.
"I'm here for my lover," the doctor said, his stance tight, almost Vulcan.
Chapel's mouth dropped open and her eyes flew to Spock.
"You can have her when I'm done," Stone offered.
"Wasn't talking about Chris, though I'll take her too, thanks."
For the first time, Spock sensed a decided current of anger in Stone. Her eyes slitted. "Your lover?" she asked.
"You bet your ass."
She smiled, but the smile chilled the room. "I knew that there was something he wasn't telling." She glanced at Spock. "I thought it was a woman. You're a better liar than you pretend."
"I never lied. I omitted the truth."
She smiled. "That's my boy."
"Security's on the way," Leonard said, cutting through their conversation.
She smiled. "They won't see anything. Not even the captain sees." Spock saw Kirk, looking around as if he were lost. "So, why can you see?' she asked.
"Guess I'm just lucky."
And then, Spock felt her unleash. The mind hidden by her tiny body ripped through the room toward his bondmate. Spock struggled to stop it, but to no avail. The immensity bushed him aside as though he weren't even there.
Leonard held his ground, and Spock felt the air itself shiver as something stopped Stone's mind. The two forces struggled, pushing relentlessly against one another. Realization dawned on Spock that the force acting against Stone was McCoy's mind. He couldn't understand how, but his bondmate was powerful. The kind of power Spock had only heard about. How could he possibly develop something like that in such a short time, without giving any prior hints?
Powerful or not, Leonard was slowly losing ground. His ability, though extreme, was undeveloped. Stone, on the other hand, had obviously nurtured her gift for years, honing it a way that the doctor simply could not match.
Leonard staggered, and his eyes widened as he realized the same. Spock felt his bondmate's mind grope for his. He felt the human's fear and uncertainty, both of Stone and of himself. He felt despair as Leonard prepared for whatever came with a defeat in such a competition.
And Spock dimly heard himself shout, "No!" He stared at Stone and said, "I beg you. Do not kill him. You spoke of love, and I ask you to accept it as a reason for mercy. I love him." Drawing a deep breath, knowing how very serious such a declaration was, he repeated, "I love him."
Stone tore her eyes away from Leonard and stared at Spock, her expression shattering. "But . . ." she whispered, "I love. . ." Then, she closed her eyes. "It picks us," she whispered, and Spock felt her attack dissipate.
Leonard gasped as he met no resistance. For an instant, all three of them knew what was about to happen. Leonard even managed to gasp out an, "Oh, God no." Then, Spock felt his untrained mind surge forward, despite any attempt on his part to rein it in. All the psychic ability in his small frame came to bear on Lieutenant Junior-Grade Carol Stone.
She crumpled without a sound, eyes staring at Spock an instant and then staring at nothing. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She lay there. She breathed, she stared, and she did not move.
Leonard fell to his knees and stared at her in horror. Jim's head snapped around to stare at the room in horror. Apparently, all Stone's illusions and mental tricks were gone.
The captain walked forward and knelt at Stone's side, checking her pulse and then rolling her on her back. She stared at the ceiling, not even acknowledging the movement.
"She's gone," Leonard rasped. "My God, I couldn't stop myself."
"What did you do?" Kirk asked, staring at the doctor.
"I destroyed her mind."
Jim looked back and forth between Stone and Leonard and said nothing. Finally, he rose, went to Chapel and released her. He then did the same for Spock.
"You should look after both of these people, Doctor," he said. "And Stone. You should figure out what to do with her."
Leonard nodded, and his numbness communicated to Spock.
They left the room just as security arrived. Spock noted that the name on the door was that of Lieutenant Nancy Wallace.