A/N: This is the last chapter of Part One, and in a way, a transition into Part Two. A small warning for some torture - and a lot of hurt Jim.
In his misery, Jim lost all track of time. The Re'an had left him by himself some time earlier after shaving off all his hair. He thought they enjoyed leaving him to suffer in solitude. He told himself that it had only been a few hours and left it at that, because if he pondered it too much, the truth became clearer. He'd been here much longer than that, and it was something he could hardly wrap his mind around.
His stomach gnawed, a constant, raw emptiness. An ache settled deep inside his head, in a place where his memories began to numb. His vision blurred as fatigue settled and he found himself too tired to stay awake.
It was how he knew he'd been here for a long, long time. Days, a voice whispered in his mind. Impossible, he replied, but he knew the other voice had whispered the truth. He relied on past training and soon found some comfort in lingering in a vague place in his mind, a place where he had no need to fight the emotional conflict brought on by the drug they had given him or the unfeeling state that threatened to tip him towards insanity altogether. It wasn't a perfect solution, for he felt parts of himself slipping away. His eyes closed, and then he watched parts of himself slip away...and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. The time passed, and he fell in and out of consciousness.
"It's time." Prince Lequa's solemn voice seeped through into the dulled corners of his tortured mind.
Jim's eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of his haggard reflection before finding Lequa, who had appeared out of nowhere like an apparition. He blinked slowly at Lequa, wondering briefly if he was only a vision before speaking. "I want..." Jim winced, finding that he lost the name that was on the tip of his tongue and his voice was barely above a whisper from disuse. He cleared his throat. "I have to verify that...that...Dr. McCoy is recovering."
"I'm sorry," Lequa shook his head. "It is a request I cannot grant."
"A simple comm would suffice." Jim eyed the three Re'an. If he could manage a neck hold on one of the Re'an perhaps he could do some damage. His strength wasn't all gone. If he could see what his hands were doing, he could accomplish some sort of physical action. But even if he managed to do that, there was nothing else he could do. An attempt to walk, however, was an utter waste of his time and energy. "Surely, you could grant me one last request."
"You are not going to die," Lequa frowned. "Forgive me if I gave you that impression."
It was a poorly placed comment, and Jim decided it was a brusque one made purposefully to strike a nerve. Jim now recalled the anguish of leaving Aleyah to her fate, swarmed by alien snakes. He fought to keep his anger in check.
"You are taking me away from my family - forever," Jim said, rueing every selfish decision he had made that estranged him from his brother the past several weeks. "It is a cruel thing-"
"Is it not better to do what you are doing for us? For a species once belonging to the Federation? What about the needs of the many?" Lequa's voice took on an edge.
"It is not a better purpose when you are manipulating and essentially murdering innocent, unassuming people on your behalf. Couldn't there be another way to provide-"
"Enough," Lequa snapped. Jim fell quiet, noting that the prince once again revealed cracks in his mask of tranquility. Lequa squared his shoulders as he stepped in front of Jim. His once warm, peach eyes morphed into an icy, threatening orange hue. "Your adjustment to Re'an life will be swifter and easier if you cease all contact with your former life, especially now that we've begun the process."
The same two guards who had locked Jim into place in the chair entered, each carrying a small box.
"Resistance is futile, and in order to satisfy our agreement, we must continue." Lequa snapped his fingers. One guard appeared on Lequa's right, box open to reveal two syringes similar to 21st century Terran ones.
Jim swallowed, preparing himself for either torture by way of yet another drug or the inevitable meld. With his eyes trained on the syringes being prepped he didn't notice that they were taping his eyes until he could no longer close them.
"So we're back to this again," Jim offered. This time they gave him no water to alleviate the burning sensation in his eyes. "You could've just asked if you wanted me to watch."
"No," Lequa moved to the side, allowing the robed guard to come forward. "I mentioned before there are growing pains. We are taking many precautions with you, Kirk, to reach you at your most vulnerable place during the meld. As much as we are manipulating the physical, the mental change is of utmost importance in this transition."
Lequa paused while the guard positioned himself beside Jim.
Jim took a deep breath when the guard failed to appear in his peripheral vision. As the other guard pulled out a mouth guard from another box, Jim laughed humorlessly. "I take it this is the fun part."
Lequa smiled thinly at him. Suddenly, he pulled out a narrow, cylindrical device out of nowhere and flashed it abruptly into each of Jim's eyes. The brilliant red light seared into his mind, halting his laugh and freezing his eyes into place.
"What the hell," he whispered, finding quickly and horrifically that his vision was trained to one precise spot. That one spot, where once Lequa stood, was now empty. Jim took a shaky breath. He could no longer locate the three Re'an beings he knew to be in the room with him.
Hands pulled at him and even if he had the desire to fight, they quickly overpowered him as they wrenched his mouth open with eager hands. He felt their forceful tugging, the pressure of their intrusiveness, and finally, the pinch of a mouthguard as it was pressed around his teeth. He choked as they released their hands and a sharply edged guard shifted and settled uncomfortably. The chair lurched backwards with a screeching whir, the force of it causing the wretched device to cut deeper into his gums until the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue. As the chair continued to angle backwards, Jim cringed at the ensuing noise. With his eyes paralyzed, his mouth forced to comply with the invasive gadget, and most of his face already numb, he could hardly manage the muscle movement to express his discomfort.
"It'll be worth it in the end, my son," Lequa murmured, appearing out of nowhere.
The chair continued backwards until Jim's body lay parallel with the ceiling. His eyes fixed helplessly upon the ceiling, forcing him to watch as a crude yet sinister looking contraption drifted down. It stopped within centimeters of Jim's face. The guards placed the syringes in two empty metal holders above his head. The Re'an slipped from his sight, leaving Jim to wonder at the contraption dangling ominously with the inescapable sharp points. The needles were so small, they were almost invisible. The more he wondered, the greater the dread swirling in the pit of his stomach.
"Remain calm. The drug has been working against your instincts, Young Kirk, and after this procedure, you will be drawn us more than ever. It is as inevitable as the feelings of guilt that you betray your crew for your new family."
"No," Jim garbled out but the machine lowered and so did the two needles aiming straight at his eyes.
Jim whimpered. It was a sound he detested, but he repeated it, like a dog knowing it was about to be beaten by his master. Miniscule needles consumed his vision and overcame his thoughts. Pitiful, helpless cries were all he could manage before the needles pierced through his eyes, perforating and injuring one of the few parts of his body with feeling intact.
The needles drove into his eyes, his cries contorted by the mouth guard as he screamed in what felt like endless agony. He felt no gratitude for that which prevented him from tearing his mouth apart - only concentrated pain. Miserable, hot, searing pain that was too concentrated and overwhelming for anyone, let alone someone lacking the sense of touch and feeling only with his eyes as Jim did. Tears flooded, streaking remnants of the brief but brutal torture down his face.
He was broken before it ended. The pain had taken over, and he didn't know what had broken, hadn't felt the mental snap or the tug in his mind. The decline in resistance had been subtle ever since the dart pierced his neck. It diminished when they removed his hair, but now enough time had passed and they knew exactly when to strike. They kept Jim in a world of anguish, his body contorting with stress - and his resistance could do nothing but fade completely. They removed the mouthguard, as it all was over before his crying ceased.
It hit him a moment later, striking when his sobs lessened, his body heaved less, and despite the lingering pain bringing his mind to its knees. It was then that he realized they had taken something from him that was almost as precious as his memories.
"No," he rasped, throat aching with emotion. Unbeknownst to Jim, his body shuddered. "Why?"
"Vulnerability," a voice murmured in his left ear. "When we tattoo your arms and neck, you will not even know. As we come into the room, you will be unaware for we are stealthy. As our chosen one lays his hand on your head and begins the melding process with you, it will be unexpected and his entrance into your mind unhindered. Today and for some time, your very desire to fight will be taken completely away until we are certain passivity comes naturally to you. Now, tell me if you want to attempt to escape from us. In essence, that is fighting against us, my son."
"James...Kirk. Captain. SC937-017...7..."
"Tell me, Young Kirk," Lequa said smoothly. "Will you attempt to escape if the opportunity arises?"
"...Kirk, Captain...SC937...3 7...0...1..."
"Will you?" The voice echoed loudly in his other ear. "It's begun. You cannot fight, can you?"
Tears leaked from the corners of his still smarting eyes. Why couldn't he say it again? Why?
"Tell me you'll fight. Tell me you wish to escape," Lequa prompted. "Then we will know we failed."
"...Kirk..." No, he cried silently to himself. He shouldn't give up. They'll come for him. He wanted them to come.
"Tell me," Lequa said warmly. "If you can."
"I...can't..."
"You cannot do what?" Lequa's voice washed over him, and they repeated the sequence again. Jim's voice rasped as he stuttered out his name, his fight noticeably waning until Lequa asked him one last time.
"...don't want...to..." Jim mumbled feebly, breaking inside as his will had been contorted to fit the Re'an way. Anger simmered beneath the surface, not that it was any use to him. The drug had stolen his very desire to flee. He thought of Bones, but something unknown and strange within him was trying to banish the idea that the doctor and the rest of his crew would return for him. He groaned. "...don't...want to...fight..."
"Good," crooned the prince.
The praise stung, mocking him, and a low, mournful protest emerged from Jim's lips.
"You've made excellent progress. Be happy that your desire and ability to fight has departed from you. It is what defines the Re'an as we work towards utter tranquility within our culture. You will see life through our eyes soon."
Lequa paused, and Jim only sensed his body being manipulated out of the chair from the pressure in his arms and legs. There was a forceful degree of pressure hitting the left side of his body and then nothing. The prince spoke again, this time from afar.
"I'll return shortly with our chosen one. You're on the floor, my son, no longer in the chair but on your side. I advise you again to try to remain as still as possible. I know it's a difficult thing to do, given your circumstances, but this room contains things which could harm you. I don't imagine you'll be going anywhere until I return. Simply put, you're too vulnerable in this state. But I will not be gone long. As I've said before, I do not allow unnecessary harm to come to my children."
Jim lay still, stripped of everything that made him James T. Kirk. Completely helpless, he was trapped in a horrid, closed world. Somewhere deep inside of himself, he knew that he must abhor this situation. He must. He only needed to access that hatred.
Resigned, he realized that Lequa was right. He was too vulnerable. Not only had Jim lost the desire to escape, he was blind and his body unfeeling.
With every single ounce of resistance gone from his body, Jim finally wanted to do what Bones had asked him to do in the first place. He was finally willing to allow his friends to help him. Ironically, now he'd never have the chance to do so.
He had sacrificed himself for his crew. He would sacrifice himself again and again if he had to, but his present truth hurt more than ever. He had lost them, and that hurt more than anything that the Re'an had done to him or he could imagine them doing. His hope that the Enterprise was coming back for him had all but disappeared, fading now as his sight and urge to resist had already been torn from his grasp.
Somehow, his arm found a spot under his head as his body naturally curled into a ball, and his lips brushed the skin of the back of his hand. Feeling completely abandoned and alone, Jim's tears rolled slowly down his face and onto the cold unforgiving floor without him even knowing.