Vulcan Twilight: Chapter 06 - Mind-Meld
Edward felt both excitement and apprehension. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't feel the least bit afraid. After all, not only had he volunteered his mind to be subjected to a procedure he really knew nothing about, he had allowed himself to be completely at the mercy of an alien! If Spock's 'mind-meld' touch-telepathy was anything like the Volturi leader, Aro - as was mentally shown to him by Carlisle - then their 'session' should only last a few minutes. Although, secretly, he was hoping for something...more. Just as their alien guest was seeking answers, he had questions of his own.
With assistance from Esme and Carlisle, Spock sat on a plush rug (Esme's insistence) atop the hardwood floor of the guest room, a loose-fitting gray shirt that matched his pants now covering his bare and bandaged torso. The curtains remained closed in the dimly lit room as he sat cross-legged, hands resting on his knees, his posture straight and dauntless as he waited for Edward's signal to begin. Candles, though totally unnecessary, were placed around the room at Edward's request, who reasoned that the small points of warm light provided Spock with a more relaxed atmosphere.
"Before we begin, I have a few questions," Edward began hesitantly, who sat on his heels opposite their alien guest.
"I will answer them," Spock replied.
"Does this...mind-meld thing go both ways? Can you show me where you came from?" Edward asked with a hopeful gaze.
"Yes. A mind-meld can go, as you say, 'both ways'. Although," Spock hesitated, looking a bit uncomfortable, "it is not a common practice among my people to do so. For a simple interrogation, my mind would normally remain shielded...and should I consent to a complete meld..." He paused, breaking eye contact, trying to find the best way to explain his discomfort. "Empowering you with the freedom to share my mind in recompense would be entirely unorthodox behavior for any Vulcan, one that would be viewed most unfavorably should I return to my own people."
"I see..." Edward said quietly, rather crestfallen. He expected the rejection, though fervently hoped that Spock would have allowed a mutual telepathic exchange. He was now left having to satisfy his curiosity with basic mental and verbal communication.
"However..." Spock continued slowly, already prepared for the likelihood of such a possibility. "Given the equally unorthodox situation I am currently in...I suppose, in this instance, I might be forgiven this discretion based on moral propriety. You, Edward, are entrusting me with your mind, therefore it is only proper that I entrust you with mine." He saw the immediate excited smile of the young man in front of him. "Any further questions?"
"Are there any aftereffects to this mind-meld?" Carlisle asked imperatively. As Edward's companion and guardian, he had a right to know the consequences of his 'son's' reckless decision.
"You have my word, Carlisle, that Edward will not be harmed in any way," Spock reassured him. "Nevertheless," switching his gaze to specifically address Edward, "there will be a...indeterminable amount of residual emotional and thought transference between us as a result of the meld. Regrettably, since I have not yet attained a full mastery of my psionic ability, I cannot prevent those aftereffects from happening."
Staring determinedly at his 'father', Edward slowly nodded and smiled when Carlisle conceded with a sigh.
The rest of the family were in a loose circle around the pair on the floor, each with mixed feelings about the event. Alice and Jasper huddled together atop the king-sized guest bed, Carlisle went to stand behind Spock, Esme sat behind Edward, while Emmett and Rosalie lounged on the floor, facing the pair on the rug.
After giving Carlisle another lengthy, steady gaze, Edward turned his head to Spock. He then tilted his head slightly with an amused look on his face.
"Uh...sure," was Edward's answer to Spock's mental instructions. "Alice, would you toss me a pillow, please?" The rest of his family watched as he gave the pillow to Spock, who placed it in his lap. He then laid down on the rug on his back, placing his head on the pillow, giving Spock easy access to the top of his head.
Emmett and Rosalie immediately began snickering softly, amid disapproving stares from the rest of the Cullens, though Spock remained composed and unfazed by their behavior.
"You nice and cozy there, bro?"
"Snug as a bug, Emmett," Edward replied dryly and settled into a relaxed position. He stretched his legs straight out, nestling his socked feet on Esme's lap and intertwined the fingers of his hands, placing them on his chest. "Now what?"
"I will now situate the fingers of both my hands on specific points on your face and temples to gradually initiate the meld. Are you ready?" Spock looked down at Edward's inverted face on his lap, his hands poised a few centimeters away, prepared to stop on command in case there were any reservations.
"Go for it," Edward said, staring up at Spock intently.
"Very well."
Spock pressed his thumbs and index fingers to Edward's temples, only to slightly withdraw them after a moment, the digits hovering millimeters above where he'd placed them.
Edward's skin was cold, a temperature much too low for the average living Earth Terran. Spock's slanted eyebrows crunched together slowly when he saw a smug smile forming on Edward's mouth.
"Something wrong?" Even the young man's voice sounded smug.
"Indisputably..." Spock muttered, as one slanted eyebrow rose higher than the other, his lips lightly pursing. "I suspect this meld shall prove to be most...fascinating."
"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," Edward said excitedly. "Shall we?"
With a simple nod, Spock returned his thumbs and index fingers to Edward's temples, followed by his middle fingers near the top of Edward's cheekbones, gradually establishing the connection for the mind-meld between them. His gaze had turned glassy as he stared ahead, nearing a trance-like state.
There was a long pause when Spock's eyelids were halfway closed along with Edward's, his middle fingers traveling away from Edward's cheekbones to rest somewhere near the sides of Edward's head.
"Our minds," Spock whispered softly - his eyelids now three-quarters of the way shut, the rest of his fingers splaying out evenly on both sides of Edward's scalp in the general area of the brain - then added, "...one...and together."
The rest of the Cullen family watched as both Spock's and Edward's eyelids completely closed simultaneously, their serene bodies frozen like eerily constructed wax figures in a museum display case. The guest room then descended to a macabre stillness as six unusually pale figures followed their example and patiently waited...without movement, without breath, without heartbeat.
oooooooouuuuuuuurrrrrrrr
For Edward, it began with a tingling sensation that seemed to spark from the four fingertips that Spock rested on his temples.
For Spock, it was rather alarming to discover that Edward's body possessed no vital signs normally attributed to any living being, and that the current placement of both his middle fingers proved useless to further deepen their mental connection. In a split second of fear, it was like trying to mind-meld with a corpse.
mmmmmiiiiinnnnndddddssssssss
Since there wasn't a pulse or blood flow to speak of, the nerve endings Spock traditionally sought out served no purpose, so his middle fingers wandered to the general area of Edward's brain where he hoped to find a trace of awareness...
...and there it was.
For Spock, the instant his middle fingers found a definite psionic portal, his remaining fingers settled into place.
oooooooonnnnnnnneeeeeeee
Edward wondered if a telepathic link between them was even possible, since their physiological differences might prevent one from ever happening. What then? How in the world could he explain to their alien guest what went wrong when Spock first arrived in their kitchen, when he himself knew next to nothing about the mechanics of his own existence.
aaaaaaaannnnnnnndddddddd
The tingling sensations that radiated from all ten of Spock's fingers increased in intensity, bombarding his entire body like a metal rod in the middle of a lightning storm. Edward's elation instantaneously turned to fear when the electrifying shocks became urgent, rhythmic surges that could only be described as deafening in its magnitude. But instead of his fear turning to panic, the rhythmic shocks of sensation that assailed him took on an oddly familiar quality. Though his mind had forgotten, his body recognized the deafening rhythm, even if the surges were much too slow from his recollection.
tttooogggeeettthhheeerrr
For the first time in more than a century, Edward realized with profound awe that his long inert body shared the strong, rhythmic beating of the living heart within Spock's chest!
...
..
.
The blowing air was thin, dry and hot. Everywhere he turned, all he could see were large, misshapen boulders and powdery desert. Whatever greenery he could find either resembled fleshy cactus or some kind of thick, thorny bramble. Shielding his eyes from the bright noonday sun, he tried to get a bearing for where he was...and that's when he noticed his skin.
His pale skin wasn't glittering.
Huh.
Edward moved with some effort at first as he stood up sluggishly, his body and limbs strangely uncooperative lead weights. Dusting off his white t-shirt and black jeans, he began walking in a direction away from the glaring light of the sun.
A few feet ahead over the first hill, Edward was treated to a magnificent vista of rock formations; the towering, leaning spires jutting like jagged fangs across the sandy landscape. Smiling with delight, he picked the closest spike and raced to its peak - which was several hundred feet in height - in a blur of inhuman speed.
Balancing himself on the very tip of the pointed rock, Edward squinted and spied a few miles away, what appeared to be a cluster of artificially-made structures. The sharp, angular towers were created to harmonize with the rocky environment and were cleverly built underneath and even attached to the underside of a particularly massive, slanted rock-spire.
A city. A sheltered oasis.
Perhaps there, he would find his elusive tour guide.
Grinning, Edward sprang with wild abandon from the top of one jagged peak to another like a supernatural white panther, easily judging the distance he needed for every jump.
"You possess a most impressive physical agility I am eager to see you demonstrate to me in the outside world," Spock spoke curiously, materializing beside Edward when he landed on leaning rock-spire number eight.
"I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up," Edward said, still marveling at his surroundings. "So, this is what a mind-meld's like? It's incredible! Everything feels so...real."
"You are experiencing the environment around you the way I remember it. Welcome to Vulcan...my home planet."
There was no mistaking the sadness in Spock's voice.
"Are you wearing layers?" Edward commented in a lighter tone. Spock's knitted, dark blue-gray top hung squarely over his shoulders, a wide neckline revealing the elaborately tapered high collar of a light gray garment underneath. His dark gray pants were simple but rugged looking, tucked into black boots about two inches below his knees. "Must be at least 70 degrees hot out here."
"Vulcan days average between sixty-three point five to seventy-five point nine degrees Celsius, dropping to between negative thirty-five to negative fifty-five degrees below freezing at night. These 'layers' of protective fabric were made to compensate for those variables, although it can be argued that there is a more deliberate aesthetic quality to their functionality. However, Vulcan bodies can easily withstand our own planet's temperature changes without these garments for an extended period, whereas a human body would die in comparison."
"That's quite a mouthful," Edward said with a chuckle. Spock stared back blankly. Yeah... "So, uh, what's the name of that city over there?"
"It is the city of Shi'Kahr, where I was born."
The heavy undercurrent of grief returned and Edward fought back the black eddy that threatened to swallow him whole.
"Can we explore the city?" Edward said, trying to distract Spock from the lingering ache of suffocating melancholy that followed every reference to his home-world.
"There is much I can show you," Spock said kindly. "Perhaps after you first answer my questions?"
"Fair enough," Edward replied and nodded.
With that said, Spock's Vulcan clothing morphed into some kind of uniform: a deep blue, long-sleeved top with a black undershirt - seen peeking through at the collar - with two, thick, silvery lines at the end of each sleeve and an emblem welded to the shirt on the left side of his chest. His pants were simple, made of black fabric in a slim but comfortable fit, ending with a pair of black, rather stylish utility boots.
The Vulcan terrain around them also vanished, replaced by a stark, white space.
"It is here that I've established an imaginary border between our minds," Spock conveyed. "To make it easier for us to communicate clearly, I am now giving you the freedom to proceed in whatever format you wish."
"I don't quite follow," Edward said.
"Think of this space as a blank page in a picture book. If I were to ask you a question..." Spock stopped and waited.
"...I can use this empty space to show you the answer," Edward finished with excitement. "You'd let me do that?"
"You have not attempted thought-manipulation?"
"No. This'll be an absolute first," Edward said with a shrug. "For a long time, my so-called gift's been limited to one setting, and since I've met no other telepaths, I've never tried to be creative with this thing I do."
"I see," Spock said and paused introspectively. "Then, Edward, it would appear that this is your best opportunity to give your creativity a try."
"In that case," Edward said confidently. "Ask away."
"You and your family claim to be vampires," Spock stated. "How is that possible?"
"Oh, sure...let's start with the Titanic," Edward grumbled as he lightly nibbled his lower lip, thinking of ways he could show Spock his piece of the whole Cullen family vampire puzzle. "I can only tell you what I know. If you need more information...you'll have to ask Carlisle." Spock nodded, then looked past his shoulder at something behind him.
Edward quickly turned around and gaped. Brought to life on his 'side' of the white space was the most epically enormous moving pictures display ever conceived, where images of his memories flickered continuously on an invisible floating screen - easily several hundred feet in height and width - seemingly cast from some invisible projector.
"Whoa...I...I did this?" Edward spoke haltingly, his mouth staying open.
"It appears that you did," Spock remarked with mild amusement on his features. It was a commendable start for a beginner. "Now that you've decided on a format, you must organize the memories you wish to show me."
After a considerable amount of concentration, the haphazard flashes of multiple images on the colossal picture screen perceptively lessened, then stopped, halting on a hazy image of Carlisle.
"This was when my vampire life began," Edward explained. "I was dying of the Spanish Influenza when the pandemic hit Chicago in 1918. The first World War was raging and there I was in the prime of my youth...waning from the illness on a hospital bed. Carlisle was the resident doctor at the time. He took care of my family and many others on the floor we were in. Carlisle did everything he could, but my parents died of the disease...and it wasn't long before death came for me too...but it wasn't the death I expected. I was practically delirious with fever when Carlisle told me that he had the power to keep me alive, but that it came at a terrible price, and that it wasn't a choice I should make lightly." The images on the screen moved in slow motion and paused on a blurry Carlisle after he'd asked him the big question. "At the time, I did what any seventeen-year-old would've done because I wanted to live, regardless of the consequences. So, I said, 'yes.' Then Carlisle bit me. I was so weak and helpless I couldn't fight him off. Once the venom he carried spread through my body, being bitten on the neck was the least of my worries." The images on the screen wavered then faded to black.
When Edward glanced at Spock he was startled to find him hunched on his hands and knees on the white 'ground' - though there really was no ground to speak off, Spock might as well be suspended in nothing since he cast no shadow. Spock's fists were clenched tightly...almost as if he was somehow in great pain...
Oh, shit.
"Spock!" Edward called out, kneeling beside him and grabbing the alien's quaking shoulders. "I'm so sorry! I didn't kn - I forgot where we were!" He felt Spock shrinking away from him. He let go instantly, berating himself for losing sight of the fact that Vulcans didn't like unnecessary physical contact. He blinked. Where did that come from?
"Was that...the effect of the venom?" Spock managed to reply with his head bowed, still reeling from the intensity of the pain that abruptly assaulted him at a certain point during his companion's tale.
"Yes," Edward answered grimly. "I was careless. I made you feel exactly how I felt when I was changing...transforming into...this."
"Then the venom...has transmutational properties," Spock said slowly as he allowed Edward to carefully help him to his feet. "A sample of this liquid...I would be most eager to study...with twenty-third century technology. It may even unlock the mystery of your origins since you and Carlisle are still seeking answers."
"Oh, you picked up on that."
"You and Carlisle feel very strongly about it. It was not hard to 'pick up'."
"Wait-a-minute...twenty-third century technology?" Edward blurted out. Behind him, the gigantic movie screen automatically replayed the events of Spock's awakening in their guest room from his memories. "You asked Carlisle for the 'star-date'...and that look on your face..."
"I'm from Earth's twenty-third century, the year twenty-two-fifty-eight. Based on Carlisle's answer and your reactions..." Spock faltered. "If I am indeed in the past and from what I know of Earth's history...at the current state of this planet's twenty-first century technology, there will be no way for me to return home."
"We'll find a way," Edward said with determination and resolve. He felt very strongly about Spock's well-being and sending the Vulcan home was the only way to assure that. "Wait. You said you're in the past, right? All we have to do is find a way for you phone home." He mentally cringed at his choice of the E.T. movie reference.
"As tempting as that option is, I have already considered that...but I cannot," Spock said sadly but with finality.
"Why the hell not?" Edward asked in confusion. "It's the most logical choice isn't it?" He wondered why he'd chosen to emphasize the word 'logical.'
"Perhaps..." Spock replied. "However, there is an ever-present rule that I must adhere to without question. A rule that is highly relevant to my present...problem."
"Rules? You're gonna stick to a rulebook? Are you serious? You're stranded here for heaven's sake!" Edward argued.
"It is called the Temporal Prime Directive," Spock explained, "and it was created to insure the protection and preservation of the natural order of the universe around us."
"Deliberate non-involvement," Edward said flatly. "Sounds pretty heartless to me."
"On the contrary, the rule prevents even more catastrophic events from occurring as a result of reckless or impulsive intervention," Spock continued. "For example, if I were to contact Vulcan now, in my present time-displaced state...I would be constantly assailed by the compulsion to alter the course of future events."
"I don't get it," Edward disagreed with a frown. "Why would saving your home planet be a bad thing?"
Spock stayed silent, refusing to answer.
Being mentally linked to Spock gave Edward a unique and profound perspective into the alien's psychology. On the outside, there was no pronounced physical feedback to the emotional magnitude of the situation. It was nothing less than remarkable. If their circumstances were reversed, if it were him rather than Spock who was stranded centuries in the past with no hope of returning home...his show of grief would be intense. Now, within the mind-meld, he knew that underneath Spock's placid mask was a monstrous undercurrent of thunderous turmoil...and profound sorrow.
Edward was reminded of the image of a woman who reflected a similar sorrow, a face he'd unintentionally manifested. Visibly reacting this time, Spock stepped backward unsteadily, his widened eyes riveted to something behind him.
"How..." Spock whispered in distress. His gaze bouncing wildly between Edward and the woman's face on the monolithic movie screen.
"Spock...who is she?" Edward asked gently, scolding himself for his second blunder.
"She...was Amanda Grayson..." Spock struggled to say, his haunted voice drifting down a deep, dark well of anguish. "She was my mother."
"Your mother?" Edward echoed back in shock and studied the freeze-framed image of Amanda Grayson. The terrified but resigned expression on her face, the world literally crumbling around her, the filaments of dancing white light, the odd style of her clothing...those things now paled in comparison to two significant details that pierced him with a golden arrow of revelation: the eyebrows on her forehead weren't slanted inward and her name sounded too...human. He turned to gape at Spock. There was no need to ask the burning question.
"Yes. My father was Vulcan...and my mother was a human from Earth," Spock said softly.
"That's why you wouldn't believe us, the way you argued so much about the way we all looked," Edward rambled, shaking his head in disbelief. "We all wondered why you smelled strangely...familiar. You're half-human! Your human scent was mingled so closely with your alien half...we couldn't figure out what was bothering us." He ran a hand roughly through his hair.
"...scent?"
Edward chuckled to himself. Spock mirrored Carlisle's insatiable curiosity from time to time when the opportunity struck him.
"Yeah. Like a wolf or a bloodhound but only the Trackers of our kind use scent to its full potential. All Vampires have heightened senses after the change," Edward explained. "Sight, smell, hearing, touch, even taste. Although taste's taken a major back seat since we don't eat regular food anymore."
"I see," Spock said distractedly.
"I know what's bothering you is something deeply personal and I don't mean to pry...but I've learned that talking about it seems to ease the burden," Edward pressed delicately, the vivid image of Spock's mother returning to his enormous movie screen. "I'm really sorry. I can't stop myself from showing her...reminding you - "
"You mean me no harm. We are, after all, mentally linked," Spock replied. "What I do not understand is how you have this image when I cannot recall ever sharing it with you."
"About that..." Edward mumbled. "Carlisle deliberately left out my participation in the story of when you first arrived." He instantly had the alien's full attention as he rewound his memories to present his perspective.
"By the way, the tube we stuck in your arm's an Intravenous drip. Carlisle made sure the solution was free from impurities or artificial compounds. It's strictly so you wouldn't dehydrate," Edward explained, somehow sensing the need for that clarification.
"Thank you. I appreciate the information," Spock replied.
As soon as Edward finished showing his missing piece of the' Alien Arrival Story' on his moving picture screen, there was an expression of distress on Spock's face.
"That...is not possible. Given my current level of psionic ability, a simple firm grip to your wrist should not have given you access to my thoughts at the degree you have shown me," Spock said in a troubled manner. From his personal tally, whatever ground he gained maddeningly kept uncovering more questions to every answer!
With no one else around to cast accusing glances or deliver reprimands, Spock sat down on his empty 'half' of the white space and leaned heavily against an imaginary wall, relinquishing part of his composure. The weight of his situation along with everything he'd learned began pushing oppressively down on him. He gazed sadly at the image of his mother which remained frozen on Edward's mental movie screen.
In the span of silence, Edward joined Spock on the white-space 'floor.'
"You saw the moment of my mother's death," Spock stated, his voice wavering with fresh grief. "Vulcan had only minutes left before it was completely consumed by an artificially induced black hole within the planet's core. I risked my life to save the Vulcan High Council who were the keepers of our cultural and technological collective memory. It was imperative that they, at least, survived so that we could somehow rebuild again elsewhere...even if the more than six billion inhabitants of Vulcan had perished."
His eyelids slid shut as Spock leaned his head back dejectedly against his imaginary wall. Edward's face was full of sympathy toward his alien companion.
"Perhaps...if I had kept my mother behind me where we stood, she would've been alive - " To see me kill myself in a collision course with the Narada. "Vulcan," Spock continued, after briefly clearing his throat, "the planet was crumbling when I transported to the surface,"
The ribbons of light, Edward said to himself, somehow knowing what being 'transported' actually meant.
The frozen image of Amanda Grayson flitted from view as the memory resequenced itself, Spock filling in the gaps to his story.
"I ran quickly toward the Katric Arc, a hidden ancient temple containing the remains of Vulcan's ancestors and the Central Memory Archive. My father was among the gathered Elders who congregate every few days to meditate there. My mother never failed to accompany him." Spock briefly paused a scene where he first made eye contact with both his parents. His mother sat outside the circle of Elders on a cushion just behind his father. She had leapt up in surprise when she saw him.
"I led them outside. I felt the death of two Elders crushed under the crumbling structure."
The once magnificent vista of rock-spires was replaced by a rapidly widening fissure that slowly approached the small ledge where he, the sparse High Council and his mother, stood.
"Precious seconds," Spock whispered forlornly.
They both watched the tragic disappearance of the Vulcan landscape as it eroded into a rapidly expanding void that took Spock's mother along with it.
It was a loss too horrific to describe with words, and if Edward still had the ability to shed tears, he would have done so. He watched as Spock hugged his knees close to his chest, burying his face in the fold of his arms. Then the images on the enormous movie screen shifted.
Instead of Amanda Grayson, Edward saw the gentle, smiling face of a beautiful young woman of African descent. Hardly any make-up mottled her glowing, dark-brown complexion, her hair draped behind her in an ebony waterfall bound by a knot near the top of her head. What amazed him was her expression. The woman gazed back with a love and devotion he couldn't fathom. Love was still something of a mystery to him even after more than a century into his vampire life-span.
Yet here was Spock, an alien hybrid he first met bleeding green atop his home's extended kitchen island, who came from a distant future straight out of a science fiction novel...and with a human girlfriend, no less! Edward chuckled involuntarily in response to where his thoughts went. "I'm truly sorry, I think I'm coming apart at the seams."
"Would the phrase, 'Get in line' be a complement to that?" Spock replied as he lifted his tired face from the cradle of his arms. Sarcasm was a trait he had 'inherited' from his mother which involuntarily manifested itself from time to time.
"Actually, yeah, it would be," Edward said, quite surprised.
"I have learned to somewhat adapt to certain aspects of human behavior. I've spent nearly eight years living and working on Earth in my time, specifically with cadets and colleagues at Starfleet Academy located in San Francisco, California."
"Are you telling me that - " Edward stopped and stared incredulously at the visualization before him of humans and various species of aliens mingling together inside a complex structure of futuristic buildings clad in red uniforms. "Wow." How he wished he could show the rest of his family what he was seeing!
"If they would not object to a standard mind-meld, I could project my memories directly to them," Spock offered.
"I know for sure Carlisle would be your second volunteer for this experience. Besides, he's been a vampire since the sixteen-hundreds when he lived in Europe. You could add what he knows to your personal catalogue of human history," Edward said, recognizing immediately that the notion thoroughly intrigued his alien friend. "If you don't have anymore urgent questions, maybe we should be getting back. Feels like we've been in here for days."
"The passage of time is irrelevant here. We are conversing at the speed of thought, even if part of you believes otherwise. It is a common mistake among beginners," Spock explained.
"Part of my learning curve, then," Edward said, then added rather slyly, "by the way...I know it's none of my business...but who was that beautiful young woman I saw?" When Spock gave no response, he projected the face he'd seen. "You...were thinking about her so strongly that it popped up on the movie screen."
A different kind of sadness and longing seemed to emanate from his alien friend beside him, as Spock once again leaned back heavily, regarding the face before him.
"She is Lieutenant Nyota Uhura," Spock said fondly. "I imagine her to be very angry with me...since I broke a promise I made to her before I arrived here."
"Oh? What promise was that?" Edward asked curiously.
"I promised to return to her alive," Spock spoke softly, filled with regret. "Instead, I chose revenge over love. Now I will never see her again."
Their virtual movie screen went blank, indicating that the subject was not open for further discussion.
"Would you like to see where I was born?" Edward said excitedly as he closed his eyes, willing the memories in his head to take shape and form, in the hope of transporting them back in time to turn of the century Chicago.
Spock found himself wandering the startling landscape of pressed-dirt streets filled with rails and clanging streetcars, horse-drawn carriages, noisy motorized vehicles of flimsy construction, a sky filled with coal and diesel smoke, women wearing full dresses walking under parasols, while the men wore three-piece suits and hats. He had seen images of Earth's historical photography during his freshman year at Starfleet Academy doing research on developing civilizations. He also recalled his over-enthusiastic human lab partner, a brilliant and bubbly eighteen-year-old female named Sophie Riker, a self-proclaimed Ancient Earth historian who had filled her head with the knowledge and trivia of several time periods. Since he was her first Vulcan acquaintance, he had inadvertently become the subject of her focus, where she thought it amusing for him to learn as much about his 'Earth-half' as he could 'physically stomach.'
"Not much to look at, but it was home," Edward said, referring to the sights and sounds of downtown Chicago. He was also clothed in appropriate 1900's fashion. "I actually wore this stuff when I was growing up." He laughed with unrestrained mirth at his tan-colored pinstripe ensemble. "You won't be hearing me admit this to anyone else, but now that I look at it, I was a bit of a dork." His clothing then altered back to his white t-shirt and black jeans. "These days, Alice basically turns me into her version of a walking Ken doll. I don't mind, though." He shrugged and smiled. "It makes her happy, so I let her do it."
They walked in companionable silence, Edward quietly observing Spock's reactions to portions of his memory. Though his alien friend portrayed his customary impassive features, his head and eyes were constantly active, swiveling and staring at everything around him.
"C'mon, let's get a coach. We can cover more ground," Edward suggested, whistling for one's attention. He gracefully leapt into an open carriage the moment it stopped, grinning to himself when Spock warily joined him.
Proud of himself for conjuring up an expensive private open carriage he'd once admired in a shop window, Edward leaned back on the cushioned leather seat and assumed a relaxed position he'd often seen wealthy gentlemen do: back straight, arms spread out and propped on the seat on either side of him, his left leg crossed loosely over his right knee. With his confidence and ravishingly handsome features, he easily held the aura and bearing of a visiting prince touring the city of Chicago.
Spock, in contrast, sat rather tensely with perfect posture carefully studying the carriage interior. At some point, he slowly and methodically ran his hands and fingers along the leather cushion and sections of the carriage's wooden structure.
"This degree of memory projection has a quality and detail that is highly unusual for a novice," Spock commended, also rather surprised.
"What can I say, I've always been a quick learner," Edward smiled. " Probably just another trait carried over to this vampire body."
"'Carried over'?"
"A mystery of the vampire venom. When it changes us, it turns us into a 'perfect' representation of ourselves, sometimes augmenting certain traits we have into supernatural abilities," Edward elaborated. "Which leads me to mention the Volturi. They're a powerful coven of ancient vampires that Carlisle actually lived among a few centuries ago in Volterra, Italy. They have a nasty habit of acquiring those of us that possess special abilities. That makes me, Alice and Jasper definite targets, so we stay below their radar. They've also established themselves as 'vampire royalty' responsible for maintaining certain rules and codes of conduct within the vampire world since the 'dawn of time'. If you ask me, I think they're just aristocratic bullies bent on world domination."
"If that is true, then why haven't the Volturi subjugated the entire human population?"
"Simple: humans vastly outnumber us. There's a good possibility of totally wiping us out if they ever knew we existed, especially in this day and age. I'm pretty sure none of us can outrun a nuclear explosion no matter how fast we do run. Unlike humans, vampires don't relish the idea of teaming up, even for a common goal. We're naturally too territorial and violently competitive for that. So, we stay hidden. That's probably why nobody from your future's ever heard or seen us. We most likely evacuated to the farthest regions of space the second warp drive technology was perfected and created a vampire planet colony or something ridiculous like that."
Edward's face formed the strangest mixture of astonishment and confusion.
"There it is again," he whispered. "What the hell do I know about warp drive technology or the fact that Vulcans don't like random physical contact...or how people are secretly afraid of transporters because nobody likes the idea of their atoms flying apart...What's going on here?" He was stunned to see the same level of consternation on Spock's face.
"Perhaps it is best that we end the mind-meld until I can assess what is happening," Spock said, mumbling his last words. How can we have reached this kind of synaptic compatibility at such an early stage? At this rate...we may end up finishing each other's sentences. "I am grateful, Edward, for your willingness to subject yourself to this mode of inquiry. I now see that a mind-meld was highly unnecessary and I accept full responsibility for any...irregularities we may both suffer as a result of my lapse in judgment."
"I would've done the same thing," Edward quickly spoke. All trace of 1900s Chicago vanished, leaving them alone in desolate white space. "Except that I wouldn't have been as tactful or composed about it as you have been with us. You can't blame yourself for doing something in a situation that none of us imagined would ever happen."
"There is only one thing I am certain of," Spock stated, staring Edward steadily in the eyes, "that based on the present situation and my rather...unstable mental and...emotional state, I do not trust myself to take the most prudent course of action and may cause irreparable harm to you and your family."
"What are you suggesting? That Carlisle and I chain you up and throw you in a cage in the basement?" Edward retorted angrily. "What'll that accomplish?" When Spock remained silent, he added, "besides, not that I'm being condescending here, but I doubt you pose any sort of threat. In fact, you have more to fear from us."
"The steady diet of fresh blood," Spock confirmed. "However, isn't it true that you are all morally evolved in comparison to the general vampire population? You also feed exclusively on animal blood, and since you and your family do not seem to find my blood in any way appetizing, you therefore pose no threat to me."
"Hey, how did you - "
"Again, I advise that we terminate the mind-meld before our link becomes...permanent."
"That sounds ugly," Edward mentioned, reacting to a jolt of aversion that accompanied those words. "Alright, let's get out of here."
"You must calm your thoughts," Spock instructed and went to stand within arm's reach of the strange once-human. "Normally, I would simply withdraw from your mind by breaking physical contact with my fingers. However, as a precaution due to unforeseen...complications, I will instead sever our connection gradually. Are you ready?"
"Spock, for what it's worth, it's really me who should apologize for cornering you into this. I practically pushed you to do a mind-meld between us out of selfish curiosity. But I don't regret the experience...and I hope you don't either," Edward admitted.
Taken aback by his honest confession, Spock was at a loss for words, his hands frozen near Edward's temples.
.
..
...
His body was emerging from a century-long slumber. At least, that's what it felt like. Every limb was heavy and achy, his head throbbing as if a crazed woodpecker had taken up residence inside his skull. It also took an unusually longer time for his eyes to focus, but when they did, he shut them again tightly to blot out the wildly spinning room which made him want to throw up.
"Edward? Can you hear me?" Carlisle said, snapping his fingers and waving a tiny, LED penlight into his 'eldest son's' dilated pupils. Seeing an array of human responses worried him greatly.
Coughing momentarily to rid an annoying tickle in his throat, Edward slowly sat up with assistance from Emmett.
"...nnngghh..." Edward groaned. After rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, he chuckled and said, "did somebody see that train?" He glanced around him, but missed the stunned faces of his family. "Damn...I haven't felt this rotten since..." A fiery comet of realization and he frantically sought out the one person who had the answers but found him unconscious. They were back inside the third floor guest room, Spock tucked neatly under the covers of the king-sized bed.
"How long were we under?" Edward demanded as he stood to his feet.
"Just over an hour," Carlisle replied.
"That's it?" Edward said in disbelief. "It felt like we were gone for weeks." He glanced at Spock's sleeping form.
"Neither of you moved a millimeter," Carlisle supplied. "For any of us, an hour of perfect stillness is insignificant. Our bodies can remain immobile indefinitely if we wished it. But, for Spock...somehow, he was able to slow his biological functions down to the point of near-death." His boyish excitement returned. "I've never seen anything like it. He literally has precise control over his entire body."
"It was part of his training since early childhood. Apparently, the entire Vulcan race is dedicated to the pursuit of enlightenment through logic and total mastery of all emotion..." Edward said, then trailed of, "...something like that." He stared at Spock with a worried expression.
A strong whack to his right arm made him turn away.
"Ya gonna tell us what the fuck happened to you or what?" Emmett said impatiently.
Rather than being angry or annoyed, Edward laughed. His brawny brother's candor did wonders to ease his tension and he laughed even harder when everyone thought he'd gone crazy.
"I'm sorry," Edward said giddily. "It's just that...no words can really do justice to describe what I saw and felt inside that mind-meld. So here's my crude, abridged version." He glanced significantly at Carlisle and Emmett. "It was the most fucking amazing thing I have ever experienced," he gushed. "I set foot on the planet of Vulcan. I saw a glimpse of the future: San Francisco, twenty-two-fifty-eight. I even managed to show Spock the city of Chicago the way I remembered it in nineteen-fifteen. And the best part of the whole thing? Everything was as real as your senses perceived it!"
Edward's enthusiasm was so infectious that he made his entire family smile, even if some of them remained skeptical.
"You're not seriously suggesting we all take part in that whole mind-melt thingy, do you?" Emmett declared. "Coz from where I'm sitting, I think that alien did some freaky body-snatcher mojo to that head of yours. You came back all...wrong."
"Will you listen to yourself?" Edward remarked with a chuckle. "Em, for the last time - " He instantly zipped to Spock's side when he began to stir.
The rest of the Cullens surrounded the bed as the alien regained consciousness, Edward and Esme quickly assisting him to a more upright position.
Stiff, achy and disoriented, Spock took a moment to compose himself as he silently regarded the faces of the Cullen family gathered around him.
"If...you all wouldn't mind...I wish to be alone," Spock said softly, staring at the intertwined fingers of his hands on his lap and refusing to make eye contact with Edward.
"We all heard his request," Esme said imperiously, feeling protective of their alien guest. "Shall we?" No one objected as they filed out of the room.
When Edward hesitated, hovering near Spock's bedside, Esme firmly held both her eldest son's hands and lead him outside, shutting the door behind them. They rejoined the rest of the family in the living room.
"Now what?" Emmett said, frowning as he watched Edward worriedly, who sat hunched on the sofa beside Esme, his face buried in his hands. "We're stuck with a dangerous alien upstairs that can play mind-twister with us."
"We can't jump to conclusions like that," Carlisle maintained. "If he meant us any harm, he would have done so by now. Spock's shown us nothing but the utmost civility."
"The kindness it exhibits may just be an elaborate facade. First, it gains our trust till each of us allows it to poke inside our minds. For all we know, he might've discovered something interesting inside Edward's brain," Rosalie stated, defending her mate's opinion which she shared.
"Emmett, Rosalie...you're wrong."
Startled, everyone turned to face Alice who had spoken.
"Edward's right. If you won't listen to him, then please, listen to me. Spock needs our help," Alice voiced out firmly. And we'll need his! It frustrated her greatly not being able to share her visions with the rest of her family, but doing so would jeopardize - ! Her mind went blank when Edward sharply looked up at her. She quickly hid behind Jasper, mentally imploring her mind-reading brother not to pursue her mental musings any further.
"I also disagree that Spock's dangerous," Esme insisted. "I sense no animosity or ill will from him. Carlisle and I found him wounded, so we took him in and saved his life. Now, all of a sudden we cast him out based on what, exactly, because I'd like to hear it." It surprised her how confrontational she was acting and it stunned the rest of her family, as well.
"You want proof, Esme?" Emmett challenged. "Explain then why we're at each other's throats over that thing up there? This turmoil's exactly what it wants. It's keeping us off-balance till it picks us off one by one." He glared pointedly at his eldest brother.
Still hunched over, Edward dug his fingers painfully into his temples as the cacophony of thoughts, images and words all centered around their alien guest became unbearable.
"Everyone just STOP," he stood up and bellowed, his spoken words accompanied by a menacingly loud, leonine roar. "Where's he gonna go? Huh? His lives in the year twenty-two-fifty-eight! Nothing short of a time machine's the only hope he has of ever going home. He's trapped here! You want him gone? Fine. But I'm going with him."
"What?" they all exclaimed in unison, staring at Edward in shock.
As the Cullen family argued heatedly amongst themselves, Spock slipped silently near the living room. He leaned heavily against the main fireplace which was incorporated into a section of solid stone wall that architecturally served as both a structural support and decorative partition. It didn't take long before someone noticed his arrival.
"You shouldn't be out of bed," Edward scolded and dashed to stand beside him. "That mind-meld took a lot out of you."
"I daresay it did," Spock answered reluctantly. "But my physical condition is not of paramount concern." He unsteadily walked forward, refusing Edward's efforts to assist him and propped himself on the sofa's backrest. "May I ask that you allow me to speak without interruption," he continued with some effort, looking expectantly at each member of the Cullen family.
"We will remain silent till you've had your say," Carlisle stated reassuringly.
It was obvious enough to all of them that it took a Herculean effort for their injured alien guest to be standing among them in the first floor living room. Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper fidgeted uneasily.
"First, I would like to express my gratitude to Carlisle, Esme and Edward for saving my life, and to the rest of you for the hospitality you have extended." Spock briefly nodded when they smiled - some albeit awkwardly - and pressed on. "Six hours ago, when I awoke...I distinctly remember piloting my ship on a collision course with the central command module of a Romulan warship whose captain was responsible for obliterating the more than six billion inhabitants that resided on my home-world of Vulcan. I was fully conscious until the moment of impact and I had resigned myself to the fact that there was no hope of survival. Therefore, I cannot explain how or why I am here...because my very existence here defies all logic. Also, my presence here is causing unnecessary discord, and for that, I convey my deepest apologies." His lips formed a tight line as he struggled to stand, his mind slowly losing ground to an internal battle of wills with his body. "I must now face the brutal fact that I am permanently displaced in space and time...incalculably far from my home-planet that no longer exists...away from a love that I will never know again...and left at the mercy of my half-human heritage which I cannot even begin to fathom."
With his face uncharacteristically contorted in pain, Spock bowed his head dejectedly and closed his eyes, a cold numbness enveloping him. "I have no hope of ever returning home."
Edward caught him before he hit the floor, as Spock once again sank into unconsciousness. Quickly but carefully depositing him onto the sofa, he stepped aside to let Carlisle examine his alien friend, worry and apprehension blemishing his handsome features. He clung securely to Esme's arm - who was gratefully at his side - his mind too distraught to block out the multiple mental exclamations of shock, sadness and pity that flooded his head. As he watched Carlisle work on Spock, an alarming feeling of dread crept up his spine. He then fought through the cacophony of voices and images from his family, focusing his entire concentration on forcibly preserving a sentient alien mind that was deliberately slipping away.
to be continued
Correspondence:
mwjen - Thanks! And yes, the Spock I'm using came from a different reality. (since technically, the Enterprise came to his full rescue, and he wasn't even shot at) I've plucked an unsuspecting Spock-who'd rather be cuddling Nyota-and flung him back in time to another dimension to meet the Cullens, thus deliberately changing the vampire family's fates as well! (I take full responsibility.) ^_^;
Obscure Stranger - Mine too! Spock definitely stuck his foot in his mouth with that 'vampires don't exist' statement. xD As for Spock's trip to La Push...that'll be one heck of a chapter! (It's hard enough that the poor La Push boys have to deal with their shape-shifting into wolves, now I have to slap on a direct confrontation with a real, live alien! The fur's gonna fly faster than we can blink.) :3
The Ruby Red Raven - Thank you! (Aha, the pairings!) Truth be told, I can't honestly speculate beyond the currently developing friendship between Spock and Edward. (I'm curious myself!) ;) (And, Spock's still in love with Nyota!)
Amethiste - I'm totally touched and flattered by your comments, thank you! What can I say, both the Twilight and new Star Trek universes called out to me for adventure. LMAO And yes, the main focus is on Spock and Edward. As far as a relationship between them...let's see where their friendship takes them first...(Besides, Spock's in love with Nyota!)
mykardia - Thanks for tuning in! Glad you like what you've seen, so far. It doesn't matter if you haven't read the Twilight series. (I only got into Stephanie Meyer's books after the movie came out!) I'm trying to write a story anybody, with just general knowledge of both universes, can read and enjoy. I rated it M to be safe, since I'm definitely gonna delve into some rather adult themes. ^_^ (Not to mention Emmett's nasty mouth!)
Landy - Thank you very much for your review! And, yes, I definitely agree that these are the two most unlikely and rather difficult universes to merge. (unless you're insane like me) Love the characters from both worlds, and technically, it's Carlisle's fault for the whole mess. xD (he really has to be careful what he wishes for)
l0lal0lz - Thanks for the note. Edward and Spock send their regards. xD
Kanashii Kopper - I, in turn, look forward to your honest feedback. Feel free to correct any errors, since I can't catch them all. And, yes, Hail Emmett, the Cullen comic relief! He's perfect for making those awkward moments memorable!
Aspriles - I've always wanted to read a proper crossover...heh...so I decided to write one. (Talk about taking matters into my own hands) And yes, Spock did arrive three years before Bella resides in Forks, and she'll definitely be joining the story in the future...but in a way that most probably won't expect.
Merina Green - Wow! Stellar reviews, thanks so much! Glad you're enjoying the trip. :) Thought I'd combine two worlds that I'm currently faving right now. Cross your fingers for me to keep my muse in top form!
MaliciousDoughnut - Very true. Since the Cullens are vampires and all...the future's looking a lot more complicated than Spock ever anticipated. xD
lorza.b - And I'm SO wanting to finish this story. (Wish 'life' stuff didn't get in the way!)
Author's Note:
Ah, Emmett, ever the voice of brutal reality. Totally tackless and unafraid to say whatever he feels should be said. xD
My happy gratitude to everyone's support! I'm enjoying this crazy journey as much as you all are, so your feedback on this latest chapter is most appreciated.
Now...onto more chapters... *fingers typing determinedly on keyboard*
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