***TW Torture***

"We can't do anything about it, no matter how I look at it, Sidon and I can't be together. I'm in the Navy, he's a pirate, we just…we're fucked. We'll just have to see each other in secret, just how you and I run into each other all the time-" Jim felt a sob rising in his chest.

A little voice in his head screamed that this wasn't right. That wasn't at all what he'd said…was it? He couldn't tell anymore what was real and what wasn't. What was a memory and what was his imagination? Just like he couldn't tell if he was in pain or if he was just numb and his brain was misinterpreting it as pain.

Silver stared down at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Apparently he still hadn't processed the news that Jim and Sidon were soulmates. It was absurd, now that Jim thought about it. The whole concept of a 'soulmate'; two souls tied together by fate. What if they never found each other? Would they be destined forever to feel empty inside? Would they never feel satisfied with anything? Were all their other relationships bound to fail? Was there no happiness without their soulmate? What if one of them died?

What if one of them died…

Jim decided that it was indeed a numbness all over. Cold numbness. Like sitting in a thick fog with no light to shine the way out. His chest was hollow. His heart was gone. It had died with Sidon.

Nothing had happened at first when the gunshot split the air. And then all at once Silver and Timetra and William were moving, diving into the cover of the trees. But Sidon was still standing next to him, so surely everything was ok…everything was ok, right? It was just a misunderstanding. A bird call that sounded like the snap-crack-whiz of a laser pistol-

"Sidon-" The words died in his throat when he looked up into the Zora's face.

His golden eyes were filled with shock, pain, confusion. His head tipped down a little, his - and Jim's - gaze going to the wound right over his heart. A rush of air escaped his lungs, his knees buckled underneath him, body went limp, he fell.

Jim stood frozen.

No.

Agony seeped into every tiny corner of Jim's body and he yearned for the numbness to take over again. Anything but this. He would take anything but this . He couldn't live through the loss again. Was he even alive? Everything was black except the memories or the dream or whatever it was playing out in front of him like they were being projected from some holo-disc somewhere. Maybe this was purgatory. Or Hell. He deserved to go to Hell if it existed.

Jim pressed his hands to the wound to stop the bleeding. But the blood just kept coming, hot and thick and with an awful irony scent. He was too small, he couldn't get enough pressure on the hole. Where was Silver? Where was ANYONE?! He needed help-

"Sidon! Hey, just stay with me ok? We'll get you someplace safe-"

There was no response.

The heart Jim had thought he'd left with Sidon's body ached in his chest. The fuzzy emptiness all around him was starting to fade into wakefulness and he lamented that he wasn't dead. There was a glimmer of hope in him now. It was all a dream. He was stuck in a dream! It hadn't actually happened. When he woke up Sidon would flirt with him and Silver would groan and roll his eyes and continue wondering what the hell he and Sidon were up to. Jim could have cried with happiness, but his mind went back to the dream and he was ready to cry for an entirely different reason.

There was no pulse. No breath. Sidon was still warm, but he'd been alive and breathing only moments before. An overwhelming sense of freezing emptiness spread through Jim. Everything seemed a little dimmer, a little duller, less beautiful, more…pointless. What point was there to live if everything that was worth living for was gone?

Someone had a hold of him.

Jim recognized the voice, the engulfing warmth of arms around him, the smell of tobacco clinging to the shirt his face was pressed against. It was Silver. He'd make it all better. He'd fix everything. Tell Jim it was just a dream and that he needed to wake up, they had adventures to go on…

But then Silver was roaring in pain.

He fell too, his face going pale and slack as he sagged over onto his organic side. Jim could see how he fought to get a full breath, how he struggled to focus where he was looking, the expression of peace that came over his face.

"NO! I can't lose you too! Silver please! Don't leave me!"

"Not you too…just open your eyes…" he mouthed the words, his lips hardly working enough to even do that.

Intense pressure closed in around his throat. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't feel anything other than overwhelming heat and fear and pain.

Jim stared at the two bodies on the ground and felt his heart shatter.

He deserved to die. He WANTED to die. He stopped fighting. Let the ringing in his ears deafen him. Let the darkness engulf him.

Let me die.

When Jim finally fully woke up, he was still almost convinced everything had been a dream. A really shitty fucking dream.

But too many glaring factors reminded him that it was all painfully real.

His head throbbed. Throat was in so much pain he thought he might pass out again. Everything hurt. He couldn't even swallow without tears filling his eyes. His hands were completely numb and he tried to flex his fingers. Even if he'd been able to he wouldn't have felt it; his wrists were bound too tightly and the way he laid on his arms was cutting off the blood-flow.

He shifted slowly until he was propped up on his side, letting out a pained whimper as blood started to flow back into his arms and hands and fingers, with it coming a burning tingling sensation. And then he winced at the pain he felt from that tiny little noise. Even though he knew it would hurt, he sobbed a little bit. He couldn't stop it.

Sidon was dead.

Silver was dead.

It's all my fault.

The tears came rushing out, each breath a desperately suppressed sob. I should have just told him…should have said what was going on…they'd both be alive…we'd be safe…

"Poor baby," Raith's voice broke the air. Normally Jim would have been upset that anyone had caught him crying, but he didn't care anymore. There was nothing left to care about.

He tilted his head back a little and met her gaze as tears still slipped down his face.

She crouched against the wall, forearms resting on her thighs, long tail tucked around her feet. The cat-like woman gazed at him with her one good eye. If Jim hadn't just gone through everything he had, he might have felt a swell of pride in his chest to know that he'd fucked up her eye bad enough that she felt she had to cover it. There was a blood-soaked bandage on her left arm just above her elbow. Her fur wasn't nearly as clean and combed as Jim remembered. Around her visible eye was sunken in a little.

"No sarcastic remarks for me this time around, Navy boy?" She didn't move from where she crouched, but her ears flicked a little.

Jim closed his eyes and let his muscles relax. His cheek pressed to the cool wood floor. He noticed the soft creaking and gentle rocking and realized he must be back on the Buckler. It would make sense. Who else would have shot Sidon and Silver?

"You owe me for all the trouble you've put me through," Raith spoke again, her voice as ragged sounding as she looked, and Jim briefly wondered what she had gone through to be in such awful shape.

But he didn't have to wonder for long; she apparently loved to hear herself talking, "I lost half of my crew with that little fire stunt you pulled. Had to kill a couple more to get everyone back in fucking line. And now my eye…I had to kill my surgeon for telling me it wasn't salvageable."

She'd moved until she was right in front of him and he hadn't even realized until the tip of a claw dragged along his cheek, pressing hard enough that it was dangerously close to piercing the skin, "I should take yours too. Just make it even between us."

Jim didn't even flinch as she pressed a finger pad to his eyelid and pulled it open so he could see her glaring at him. A cruel smile went over her face.

"While I do enjoy seeing you so despondent, I'll enjoy it more when it's me making you cry. I would just love to take this eye from you," her claw rotated in a slow circle right over his eye, close enough he could feel it brushing his eyelashes, "But I want you to be able to see the things I do to you."

He was almost relieved. Maybe she'd kill him too.

Raith snapped her fingers. The door opened. Two sets of hands grabbed his arms and heaved him up and to his feet and he was forced to walk clumsily out of the blank room he and Raith had been in.

Jim felt as if he were being paraded up to the deck, but there was no one to see the procession. Other than the two men making him walk, there was Raith behind them and three other men waiting on the deck.

The rope binding his arms behind his back was cut, the knife nicking a wrist in the process, and the men holding him up took his wrists in their hands and pulled his arms to the sides as far as they would stretch. Jim felt the heat coming off Raith's body as she stepped up behind him. You must be dying from the humidity on this planet with that thick fur coat-

Pain shot from eight points, four in each shoulder blade, as she sank her claws into his flesh. Jim grunted and shivered. He forced his muscles to relax. He knew what was coming.

She raked her claws down his back achingly slowly. He could feel every inch as she moved. He could feel his flesh ripping and hot blood instantly pouring from each deep gash. He screamed and his body bucked to try to escape the agony. Jim barely noticed when his destroyed shirt was yanked off and his skin was bared to the air.

"I actually kind of admired your resolve during our first go around," Raith whispered harshly next to his ear. She teased her bloody claws up his stomach, the slight touches leaving a prickling feeling in their wake, and then she dragged them back downward, her lips brushing his ear, "What happened, Navy boy? Someone cut off your balls?"

Jim jerked reflexively as she squeezed the front of his pants roughly.

"Everything seems to be intact here."

She chuckled and Jim heard her moving away. When she spoke again, her voice was hard to hear, as if she were far away or turned away from him, "I would take them from you to keep as a prize, but I've heard most humans don't live through the castration process, and I unfortunately still need you."

He heard the snap of the whip before he felt the stinging as it cracked across his skin. The metal tooth at the end caught skin and ripped and Jim screamed again. He gave up trying to count how many times she whipped him. By the time she finally stopped Jim could feel that his back was completely shredded, the whole space burned and ached. He was starting to feel nauseous and weak from the blood loss. His body was too hot and too cold at the same time. He couldn't tell if his lungs burned from screaming or because he couldn't breathe.

"That old Borg was mighty protective of you," Raith's whiskers brushed along the back of Jim's neck, "You must be something special to him. I almost wish I hadn't killed him so he could be here to watch us giving you all these pretty marks."

Agony welled in Jim's chest.

He'd been right. Silver was dead.

Jim hadn't smelled smoke before, but he caught a whiff of it now. He searched for the source and his eyes landed on a small black pot filled with glowing coals. A scraggly, exhausted looking Zirrelian stood next to it with a set of metal fireplace tongs hanging loosely from one tentacle 'hand'. He jumped a little and Jim guessed that Raith had motioned for him.

His eyes were stuck to the glowing coal clamped firmly at the end of those tongs as it was brought over to him.

"You know what I want, Navy boy. No need to make this harder on yourself," Raith hummed pleasantly.

You killed Sidon…killed Silver…I'll make you kill me too.

He closed his eyes and hung his head and waited. Raith tutted and very swiftly afterward there was more pain. The man pressed the coal to his ribs. Jim twisted away instinctively, his body moving without him needing to think, but there was no escaping the strong grips holding him up by his arms.

"Tell me the coordinates, Navy boy."

Jim sobbed, "Don't have them…"

The coal was moved to a new spot, searing a new wound into his skin. Raith tutted again, "Don't lie to me, sweetheart. It doesn't suit you. And you're terrible at it."

They repeated this over and over, Raith asking with a surprising amount of patience for the coordinates. Jim wanted to give them to her, but his mind had gone hazy from the pain and everything was jumbled up. He was standing back in Admiral Blake's office in his crisp uniform receiving his assignment, he could see the paper in his hand, but it was blank. Where are the coordinates?

"I guess I haven't completely broken your spirit yet. No worries, the boys will help me with that."

Her voice trembled with withheld glee. The boys? It didn't make sense for a moment, and then he was hit with a wash of terror and realization. Jim whimpered. No…no please…just…just give me a minute…I'll remember them…hold on a minute…

The hands on his wrists were gone all of a sudden. Jim was falling. His knees took the brunt of his weight, and then he tipped forward and sprawled on the cool wood.

He was mumbling, begging incoherently, shaking uncontrollably. No one was allowed to touch him like that. Only Sidon…just Sidon.

But nothing happened.

Jim continued to lie on the deck, untouched as he cried and shivered, barely cognizant of the angry voices arguing over him. He was grasped roughly by his elbows and heaved back to his feet and his sobs rose in pitch and intensity.

"Shuddup, I ain't gonna fuck ye," A gruff voice snapped at him.

He could hear Raith, if only barely, snarling and shouting orders and threats as he was dragged back below deck and tossed in that empty room.

They didn't even bother to shackle or bind his wrists, but what could he have done?

The minute the door closed and the sound of the lock clicked in place Jim fell back into the darkness of unconsciousness.