Let the whump begin! This story is kind of going in a different direction that I thought it would, but hopefully it still turns out okay. I'm a little worried about this chapter, so please tell me what you think!
Jim awoke to a throbbing pain in the back of his head and the voices of several people floating above his head. He tried to move his arms up and grunted when he found they were tied to the table he was lying on. Realizing the situation he was in, his heart began to beat faster as the room came into focus.
Three men were standing around where he lay, and beyond them lay an open, bright room, with tables covered in an assortment of tools. He heard banging in another room and a hoarse voice calling his name.
"Bones!" he called out, damn the consequences.
The banging stopped for a moment before Bones yelled again, "Jim?"
Jim opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a blow to his rib cage, rushing the air out of his lungs.
"Glad to know you're awake," the guy standing in the front said to him. His face was bearded.
"Jim!"
"This must be a little… stressful for you, I'd imagine." the Beard continued, "This not going as planned?" He brought another fist down on Jim's face and Jim couldn't help the groan that left his mouth.
Jim looked up at him coldly. "Actually," he told Beardy, spitting blood into the man's face, "This is going exactly how I thought."
Instead of getting mad, the Beard only laughed. "Good, good. I'm guessing you know what's coming next?"
Jim gritted his teeth but didn't respond.
"We've just got a couple things we'd like you to tell us about."
"I'm not telling you anything, you piece of shit."
Beard smiled. "We'll see." He reached for something on the table that looked like a kind of clamp. His heart racing, but face set in stone; Jim clenched his fists, trying his best to keep his fingernails away from the metal instrument. But try as he might, his captor opened his hand and attached the clamp to the end of his finger.
Pain flared white hot and seemed to radiate down his hand, but while he sweated, Jim said nothing.
Beard considered him for a moment before nodding to his companions, and before Jim could react a knife was sticking out of his arm.
That was when he screamed.
"Leonard, stop throwing yourself against that thing! The door's not moving. You'll just hurt yourself, and then what good would you be to Jim?"
McCoy turned to Uhura and glared at her. She flinched, but he was too worried about Jim and too angry with Starfleet to care. He rammed his body against the door for the fiftieth time and the metal shuddered slightly beneath him.
"Jim!" he called out. "Jim!"
He continued for what seemed like forever before hearing a muffled, "Bones!" The sound was coming from the room next to theirs. McCoy changed tactics and rammed his fists against the wall instead, trying to let Jim know that he was there.
"Jim!"
There was only silence, and McCoy's heart rate skyrocketed. He heard Uhura come up to the wall beside him and place an ear against it, listening for anything.
There were muted thumps of what sounded like punches. "Jim!"
Suddenly a raw scream pierced the air, and McCoy's heart froze in his chest.
"No," he breathed.
The next few hours were torture, even if he wasn't the one with Kabul's thugs.
He screamed Jim's name as the young captain yelled and cursed. Over time, both men's calls grew quieter – McCoy's throat was dry as parchment, and the doctor didn't want to know what Jim was going through.
Uhura sat white faced and tight-lipped the entire time, her arms wrapped around her chest.
Finally, the yells tapered off completely and McCoy heard a shuffling at the door. Jim was thrown in without ceremony. McCoy rushed forwards just in time to keep Jim's head from bashing the floor.
He looked horrible. His shoulder looked disjointed; three fingernails were missing from his hands; his left arm was bent unnaturally; and blood poured from both a cut through his arm and one in his stomach.
He heard Uhura gasp as she landed on Jim's other side, and felt similarly.
McCoy put his hands around his friends face and Jim's eyes fluttered open, their lashes stained with blood.
"'Ones" he breathed.
"I'm here, Jim. I'm not gonna let them take you back, I promise." He quickly tore the sleeves from his shirt and tied them around both wounds, which rapidly stained with his blood. Jim gritted his teeth as McCoy wrapped the broken bone tightly, trying to keep it stable.
Jim chuckled and McCoy was horrified to see blood bubble on his lips. "He doesn't even fucking want anything."
"What d'you mean?"
"They said… they wanted something. They didn't ask… a single question."
Leonard's heart throbbed. "We'll get out of this Jim."
"It's my fucking fault."
"Don't say that!"
Jim inhaled deeply, his breath rattling. "You wouldn't be here – I didn't think –"
"Stop, Jim! This isn't your fault, goddamnit!"
McCoy almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw Jim pushing himself to his feet. "What are you doing!? There's a hole in your gut for Christ's sake!"
"We… need to get out of here."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Wait, stop!" It was the first time Uhura had spoken since Jim had come into the room, and both men turned towards her. "What is that?" she asked, her voice small. She pointed to Jim's back.
McCoy sped around to look at what she was talking about and frowned at what he saw. A small metal circle was attached to Jim's neck, protruding slightly from the skin. He prodded it gently and Jim fell to his knees, biting his lip to hold back a scream.
"Jim? What is it?"
"It hurts you stupid shit," Jim bit out, but McCoy ignored him.
"What the hell?" he muttered. "This thing looks like it goes deep. I can't just pull it out. It could be going all the way down to the bone."
"What the hell is it?" Jim asked desperately.
"I don't know! Do you remember them putting it in?"
"No! I was too busy thinking about the knife in my gut." As if on cue, Jim's face turned stark white and he brought his good arm up to his chest. McCoy raced forwards to support him before he fell and gently lowered him to the ground again.
"Jesus Jim, be careful. You'll only hurt yourself more."
Uhura walked up closer to Jim to look at the piece of metal and said carefully, "It looks like some kind of communications device. That symbol there is something you see on a lot of communications hard drives."
"Well what is it doing in my neck!?"
"I…" Uhura stopped, her already pale face draining. "But that's impossible," she breathed.
"What? What is?" McCoy demanded.
Nyota swallowed nervously and looked at both McCoy and Kirk. "I – I think they're trying to connect to his brain."
