A/N: Because this has waited far too long.

Warnings/Info: K/S Slash, H/C, BDSM (Master/Slave, bondage) physical and mental torture, language. Rated M.

Summary: Powerless, Kirk is thrust into the Mirror Universe, alone, and without hope. Spock takes advantage of the mishap, seizing command of the ship, and her former captain. Domination is crucial, disobedience is unthinkable, and James T. Kirk is not going down without a fight.


I'm freaking out, where am I now?
Upside down and I can't stop it now
Can't stop me now

ISS Enterprise


Spock was called down to the transporter room on account of a malfunction and caught the words just as he entered. He assumed it was nothing serious, just a glitch in the programming or a faulty wire. They would have it fixed, or suffer the consequences. He stood observing their efforts, occasionally giving instruction and keeping order. He knew humans of all species needed a firm hand.

Soon, soft electricity began to swirl and the Captain re-emerged after an exactly 3.5 minute disappearance.

Why, when the odds were so heavily against it and the Captain was the one beaming up, the transporter broke, Spock would never know. Despite the fact that it had occurred, his mind was at rest because he had also left room for the occasional mishap. And, factoring in James T. Kirk's gravitational pull to all things out of the ordinary, Spock was hardly surprised.

To his dismay, it was the Captain's entrance that surprised him, for instead of the cocky sneer and hardened posture so particular of the military man, this person was smiling and relaxed.

"Spock, you were right, this was a—"

The man, their Captain, stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening fractionally and his posture going stiff.

Spock heard Kirk's heartbeat climb much too fast, and he could almost see the human's mind working as he opened and closed his mouth; trying and failing to act like nothing was amiss when, obviously, it was. Kirk's eyes pierced everyone in the room as he quickly sought to gain ground in unfamiliar territory.

And though Spock was aware of the minute changes in Kirk's demeanour, he did not act upon them. No, Spock did what protocol demanded and sharply saluted the confused Captain. Kirk only looked more uncomfortable, and clenched his jaw in unease.

"At norm, Mr. Kyle. Controls at neutral." Spock said to the technician after the salute, his eyes firmly on the human, clearly lost and still wavering on the edge of pad.

"Yes, Sir."

Spock noted that Kyle hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Not that human observation – or lack thereof – was proof against his blossoming theory.

"Status of mission, Captain?" Spock said quietly to what was almost certainly not his captain. He was acutely aware of Kirk's answers, and everything he did; cataloguing it for future reference.

Something was off.

The magnitude of which, he could not ignore. Not when the implications of such a thing could possibly benefit him. Him, or another, one and the same as far as he was concerned. He was simply not sure if the benefit to himself would go beyond what had already taken place.

"No change," Kirk said, his voice holding only a quarter of the power Spock was used to hearing. It sounded light, breezy, and susceptible to objection. He did a remarkable job of hiding that from the other crewmen, though; they were all still as oblivious as humans could be.

"Standard procedure, Captain?" Spock inquired with relatively more of the usual calm.

Spock wanted to keep Kirk in the dark about his realization and the implications for as long as possible, though his mind spun with gleaming rewards and the payoff he would have never even thought possible. Could the one time, out of hundreds every day, the captain used the transporter, it would break and something like this would occur? But here, he saw it had happened, and accepted that fact quickly.

This new captain seemed weak; frail. He would not last on this ship, yet he was a perfect copy of the original. Would it stand up to scrutiny? He would take the captaincy and able to do what needed to be done, but the crew? His range of power, influence and authority was wide but would it hold?

He estimated bribery would come into play, but that was a small price to pay for this chance. This golden chance. He could save the one thing that mattered most. The one thing he would, if all worked out, never see again. Ready for those horrendously undesirable thoughts, he pushed them back. If he was safe… it was worth it.

Though he kept this all to himself and went around to the instrument panel. Despite the fault being to his fortune, he did need to analyse it. Not being above mind-reading or control, he plucked at Mr. Kyle's mind. He quickly came to the conclusion that the lieutenant was to blame for the incident. And not that he really cared at this point; a tiny part of him wanted to promote the lieutenant, but keeping order was expected of him.

"Mr. Kyle, you were instructed to compensate during the ion storm. Is there a reason you did not?"

The lieutenant was suddenly struck by his mistake and the implications, "I— I tried—"

"Carelessness with the equipment cannot be tolerated." Spock reached for his command agonizer; one that when activated, initiated intense physical suffering in the mind of the closest in range. He clicked the button on top, set it to a relatively low setting, and looked up.

Mr. Kyle was backed up against the wall, his breathing accelerated.

"Please I—" His desperate pleas were turning into an impish whine.

"Do not beg, Mr. Kyle," Spock said sternly, "it is unbecoming of a man."

Kyle swallowed hard, straightening. Spock could see that strange emotion Terrans displayed; fear, shine in his eyes. The man did take it admirably though; he was waiting for the pain to come.

Finally, Spock pressed down gently on the small device and watched with a face as blank as an obsolete sheet of paper, as Kyle fell back against the wall and writhed in obvious anguish, moaning and crying out pitifully.

Spock did not pretend to enjoy this, but that was exactly it. He did not enjoy it but nor did he disagree with its place. It was a form of punishment and someone had to be there to administer it.

But being a Vulcan had its drawbacks, and Spock, once entered into the Academy and later in active duty, had come to learn to block all incoming thoughts and feelings from ones under the intense pain of the agonizer. He had perfected the art of blocking certain people and things from his sensitive telepathic range since then, and now felt only the awareness. He knew what they felt; even he had felt the sting of punishment in the past, but it did not affect him as it once did. A strict Vulcan culture did not allow him to be affected.

The punishment over, he returned the device to the lieutenants' belt and let him sink to the ground, moaning. He turned back to the Captain and was only slightly surprised to see his face blank except for barely distinguishable pain in frosty blue eyes.

This admittance of anguish Spock had to admit he had only ever seen a few times, and all had been about lost opportunities and self-grievances. Never for another. How fascinating to be seeing it now, even if on an entirely different person.

"Captain," Spock said with just a touch of respect for the man he used to know, inclining his head.

"Ah, yeah—" Kirk shook his head, swallowing and came over to the transporter room door to join Spock. He took another long look at the Commander with the beard before turning his back.

Not a wise move when surrounded by those who wish you dead.

The sound of a phaser's fire was the last thing James Kirk heard before he crumpled to the floor.

Spock held the weapon loosely, flicking it back into its holster. The job was done.

The Captain now lay on the floor, to the disbelief of watching crew. His guard was nearby, dead. Spock hadn't seen need to keep the guard, but Kirk himself would wake within the hour.

The crew present looked on, stunned at what had just taken place. Spock said not a word to them or his own Vulcan guard. If all went well, the entire ship would react so. Sunned into silent obedience.

Humans could be quite interesting when given the chance, Spock thought with a twinge of regret. He would not be able to conduct a full-scale experiment on the matter of course, but he had something better in mind.

Kirk's eyelids flickered as he lay on the floor. Unconscious, and unaware that he was being taken prisoner by the one person he thought he trusted most. And now the matter of his life would be in very similar yet radically different hands. Hands that at that moment burned with desire. Hand that would in the future induce extremes of many kinds upon the young human entrusted to them.

But neither knew it just yet.

- X -


Like any uncharted territory
I must seem greatly intriguing

But you're not allowed
You're uninvited

The sound of boots in the corridor outside his cell sent Kirk to his feet and to the edge of the illuminated, transparent wall where he could face his persecutor directly. When it was Spock who appeared—no, it wasn't Spock, not his Spock in any sense of the word—Kirk stiffened and glared at the Vulcan.

"Spock." Kirk said forcefully, turning to him. He was desperate for answers, and desperate to know where he was and how and who and-

"I will honour your station only once," Spock said in a forceful monotone, his brown, unemotional eyes just barely keeping Kirk's anger at bay. "But let me make it quite clear to you that you no longer hold the title or are in possession of the power accompanied by it." Spock held Kirk's eyes through the slightly glowing, humming force-field, conveying an utter lack of empathy for him.

"Captain Kirk." He said this with a finality that brought a feral glint to his eye and a dangerous upturning of his lip; a sneer.

"In the three hours and forty-seven minutes you have been aboard this ship I have come to the conclusion that you and our Captain have… switched bodies, for lack of a better phrase." A wry mockery of a grin slipped onto his face and Kirk twitched, unused to the display.

"I have taken the liberty of removing you from your 'command' seeing as it was never yours in the first place and have taken said command. Lieutenant Sulu is now my second and you…"

Kirk set his jaw, waiting for the ending to that sentence. It would never come.

"Spock, you gain nothing from keeping me here." Kirk spoke in his command tone, quiet and firm as if talking to a terrorist holding a hostage. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Allow me to return to my own time if I don't belong here. It's only—"

Kirk froze, a sudden supernatural grip holding his body paralyzed. His heart rate climbed instantaneously and he felt it pounding in his ears as he swallowed hard. He was no longer in control of anything but the most primary and automatic body functions. He could feel with disturbing completeness the rest of his body, but it no longer responded to him. He shut his eyes tightly and his nose flared in rage. The slight twitch of Spock's mouth was then lost to Kirk.

"I am… regretful for your sake, Kirk, to have to do this." Spock turned to his left slightly and without moving his eyes, touched several keys on the cell control panel.

The flickering screen vanished and Kirk felt what seemed like unexplainable dread trickle its way down through his lungs and settle like a dead rabbit in his gut. Dark, beady eyes everywhere. Outside, inside; making his stomach shrivel in disgust.

The barrier removed, Spock had only to step into the cell to be face to face with Kirk.

Kirk glared at him.

Confused at the strange emotion coursing through him, it was effortless for Kirk to convey the frigid betrayal he felt through his intensely human gaze. He was not afraid. Simply amazed. At this person. This Vulcan he thought he knew. He hadn't even known Spock capable of such mind control as he was displaying now, but here Kirk was, every single part of him frozen by the unseen force that all Vulcans apparently possessed.

He cursed himself for ever going on that mission. Alone. At all. The moment he transported it felt wrong. All wrong. This was not his ship, and this was not Spock. He had felt a link he hadn't known to be in the possession of, snap. Like a twig. A severed artery. He felt empty now, dark and cold.

Spock smiled faintly, now only inches from the Federation Captain. He examined those blue eyes, the only portion of Kirk's body allowed to show the sheer panic emanating from him.

It was simply fascinating the emotion humans could convey when practically everything had been taken from them.

Spock circled him, his boots practically silent on the patterned metal floor.

When Spock disappeared behind him, Kirk took a shaky breath and repressed a shudder.

"Your appearance here is of great advantage to me. I will not divulge details but in summary, you will stay here with me until certain arrangements have been made. You will obey orders directly from me until that time. If this is at all unclear, you may ask questions. But do not expect allowances to be made for disobedience. It will not be hard for you… I will not make it hard for you… if you comply with these simple rules."

Though there was no intonation in the last sentence, the threat was clearly heard. If fully understood… was to be seen.

Spock felt the corner of his lip turn up, ever so slightly, at the prospect of this gangly Kirk in his possession. At his command. He knew nobody would question it if he presented himself as the stronger party, and simply took command.

And they hadn't.

The ship had come peacefully and without question. Situations like this happened all the time. He had sufficient funds to bribe the remaining crew not fully under his influence, which would certainly be necessary as the Captain did have a wide circle of support. What was in his favour was the knowledge that all human loyalty could be broken. Eventually.

"If you behave…" He whispered this in Kirk's ear, his sweet breath sickening Kirk, "you might even enjoy yourself here."

Spock straightened and looked into Kirk's eyes. "But I see fear, Kirk."

Jim glowered into Spock's amused eyes, knowing what he said was to annoy him, yet... what made it painful was the absolute truth in his words; that scared him more than anything.

That soul-seeing power. He wished he had taken the time to understand it better; now that he was under its influence.

Kirk felt his head move to the left. His eyes widened in surprise as it moved of its own accord, back and forth again. Spock could not only hold him completely frozen, but he could control his body? He shuddered, trying desperately to get his body to listen to him. No such thing occurred to his mental struggles. It was like trying to levitate against gravity. To even try drained your energy, and filled Kirk with a heavy weight.

He was still forced to stand at attention in front of this monster, a completely different person than the man he knew was now somewhere in space. Would he ever get back? He thought this with a dull confusion, as if were all a dream.

And what about his crew? In their time. If he was here, what would this Kirk be doing on his ship? With his Spock? He tiredly swallowed back bile that left a remnant, disgusting taste in his mouth.

Stepping out of the boundaries of the cell, Spock tapped the control pad once more and simultaneously let Kirk go of his binding mind control.

Kirk gulped in relief but let none of it show. He concealed all that he felt and lifted his chin in defiance, his eyes cold.

"Your silence is commendable, Jim."

Kirk's lip twitched at the ghostly noise.

He hissed a curse word in the Vulcan's own language just before the door to the brig slid shut. And then Spock was gone. Leaving Kirk alone. Again. Only this time it was a silent aloneness filtered with whispers of the devil twirling gleaming webs of bitter pain and the image of a future so dark and vast Kirk was left alone in the silence of his own mind.

- X -

Hours later, Spock came again. He simply stared into the cell, and Kirk had no choice but to endure.

Kirk had to admit, the phenomenon was one that he had never seen; even coming from the harsh Vulcan. Far from the man who had saved his life countless times, gone on countless missions with and he thought he knew like the ship he used to run, this Spock was the very image of cold disdain. The traces of a bitter sneer touched his lips at the moment as he quite obviously looked his cruel green nose down at Kirk.

The human realized this was a contemplative look; Spock was critically observing (as was the key word) his every motion. The only thing moving were his eyes as they followed him like a separate entity unto themselves. No suspicion or anger were present, no matter what a human from this time would probably feel, in Spock they were absent. Absent from his ever logical and rational mind, the inconveniences of emotion were.

Feeling more hurt than he had been since entering this world, this mirror universe, and knowing that the eyes of his friend now looked down upon him like he was no more than an alien captive, sent Kirk to the ground. He lowered himself to crouch on his toes and fold his hands in front of him, facing the middle of the cell. He wanted to be able to see Spock at all times because he in no way trusted the Vulcan, but not so in a direct way. He would go insane if that were the case. He would carefully block the world out; this was as human a defence as he could conjure without reverting to completely animalistic ways and what years in first the Academy and then the cold reality of space had taught him.

But he was not a Vulcan, and when put on the table beside Spock's endurance, his barely held its own. He felt exhaustion creep up on him; the past several hours taking their toll along with the absence of food that was creeping into his belly like a worm.

He was therefore unprepared for Spock to suddenly be at the control panel, inputting something quicker that Kirk could process. He shot to his feet just as the Vulcan stepped back from the control panel to the left of Kirk's cell. The power was cut with no more than the absence of its light buzzing and then nothing was there to keep Spock from coming at Jim with frightening speed.

"Spock, Spock..." Jim said with a terrified shake to his voice that had not been there before, backing up until he hit the hard metal wall. He was surprised he was already cornered as his hands felt the coolness of metal behind them.

Thankfully, he was no coward and even such a twisted version of his friend would not send him to hysterical pleas even if his life depended on it.

Unfortunately, this not being the desired position Spock wanted him in, the Vulcan quickly grabbed Kirk's shoulder and pulled it around in a hard arc that spun the human's body to the right. This manoeuvre ended with Kirk's face slamming into the wall with a fraction less than the force necessary to shatter bone.

"Fuuuuuuuuck...!" The cry Kirk emitted in surprise turned into a moan of pain as electric impulses caught up to him and shot to every single part of him that had been twisted or pulled or jerked more than were meant to. His body screaming at him was a hard thing to endure, but Kirk managed by the skin of his teeth to bite down hard on his lip to keep the tears from his eyes and the sobs from his throat.

Spock pushed only a fraction of his weight onto the human and felt with evil satisfaction Kirk's strangled whimper of pain at the staggering force. Spock relished in the exited presence of the struggling human under him with cold satisfaction.

He did not lessen the pressure he placed on Kirk's shoulder as he wrenched the human's other arm from where it had been pressed to the wall to steady himself.

"Oof!" Kirk was pushed once again into the wall, this time with his face flat against it. Without acknowledging the pain he was causing, Spock roughly took both of Kirk's hands behind his back, pinning them together with one hand.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe. He didn't need the oxygen; his body was hardly warm from the exertion.

Kirk took strained, quick breaths and Spock could tell he was grinding his teeth. He was tense. Only a second passed and Kirk seized Spock's inaction by bucking against him. Spock reacted a tenth of a second after, hauling Kirk away from the wall to slam him back. Kirk cried out but was ultimately silent as Spock ground his body into the wall, harder than before.

He whimpered, the force knocking his body numb. As Spock shifted his hand that held both of his captive's, Kirk felt tears come to his eyes. Spock's warm hands held his tightly together, holding him still and his.

The clink of a pair of handcuffs and the snap of their activation startled Kirk for the second it took for Spock to slip them into place around either of his wrists. The cold metal met his warm skin with an electric pang of discomfort. Kirk squirmed, the cold mist of his situation seeping under his skin. the heavy moisture in his eyes returned just before Spock released all pressure and let him drop back down to his own feet.

Kirk hesitated, on the brink of relaxing his shoulders. He twisted his hands slightly, hearing the soft humming of the handcuffs and the icy rings around his wrists. He slumped in frustration.

When a hand touched his shoulder he jumped around, his heart rate increasing once again.

Spock left him no time for recognition or thought for action, swiftly moving to the side to grab his shoulder and push down with the force of a race far stronger than his own. The incredible weight was too much, and Kirk buckled. His right knee slammed into the metal floor, sending a thunderous jolt of fire to rip through his leg.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! God dammit fucking-"

He screamed suddenly, the high-pitched wail of agony that echoed in the small chamber for what seemed like an eternity. An unexpected pain shot down his shoulder as his other knee gave out. The hard floor hit the other knee with an impact that burst his nerves like fireworks. He only whimpered this time, holding in the most of what he felt by bowing his head and grinding his teeth.

With Spock's hand still gripping his shoulder, Kirk's breathing became laboured and frantic as he fought the loosing game of control. Without thinking, he attempted to rise but felt a quick, jarring slap of pain shoot through his core.

His whine at the sharp, unexpected reprimand turned into a growl of pain and humiliation. He stopped struggling and immediately felt the cold sweat and shaking his body was currently exhibiting.

It took him several seconds to finally submit. His body shook minutely with exertion and he took deep, shuddering breaths through a mouth twisted in misery.

"Stay." The calm order issued by Spock was said in the tone of disciplining a disobedient dog and the outright offense Kirk felt was significantly mulled by his complete shock that it had been said in the first place. His features twisted into a snarl of defiance as his self-proclaimed 'handler' came into sight.

"You bastard." Kirk spat, showing his canines and tensing to the point where his muscles rippled under his shirt and he shifted in agitation at the confinement. He clenched his fists behind his back in a subconscious attempt at freedom, but nothing would break their hold, he knew with bitter certainty. He lifted his chin to match Spock's stance, even if he was several feet lower than the Vulcan, his chest rising and falling with steady rhythm.

"I surmised I was taking on a challenge when I selected you, Jim, but I had no inclination that you would make it so... interesting."

Now that offended him. Kirk's eyes flashed and he flexed his jaw to keep himself from uttering a retort.

Spock cocked his head and looked almost as if he wanted to shake his head at the wilfulness of a child. There was something in those eyes. Kirk's eyes. It licked at him and smoothed his expression to that of a blank slate. Though fire made it exiting, too much of it was unhealthy for a human.

Without so much as twitching, Spock was suddenly the precipitator of a deep trickle of agony. Pure and deep and sickening.

But it was in such a fine form Kirk did not notice it right away, though he soon did.

It started as numbness in his toes and fingers, and then started hissing and jumping around in his veins like electrodes intent on escaping his fragile form. Kirk paled, the anger and blood slipping from his face like dripping rain.

In an instant, he felt horribly betrayed. Not betrayed by the sorry excuse for a creature in front of him. But by life as a whole. What had he done to the world to deserve this? The growing nausea, the pain? Why was Spock doing this?

He had no answers, and a gnawing ache had buried itself in his stomach, growing out to his spine, and arms, and head… pounding, more, more

Kirk sobbed and then swayed. He felt the pounding, and, like a deck of cards, collapsed to the floor, his hands still bound inexorably behind his back.

Waves of fast, hot pangs of anguish rippled through him with unimaginable fluidity. It seemed like every part of him was on fire. He screamed; one intense scream of loss and agony. Lost, lost, lost. Convulsing. Pain.


His eyes were welded shut under the enormous pressure of pain. He found it hard to breathe, so opted for short gasps, perforated by held breaths and clenched teeth. Tense all over, Kirk's body reacted to something it could not control nor understand. Such a combination was a terrible thing to feel, Kirk knew then.

He sobbed again, arching his back once as a particularly cruel surge flooded him. His body was wracked with short, deep sobs and covered with a fine sheen of sweat that met the barren floor with freezing sting.

When he felt nothing could ever be worse than this, the pain stopped. Tears ran from Kirk's eyes, down his face, and onto the icy, uncomfortably rough floor. Making himself calm down, Kirk took a few shaky, grateful breaths.

He was terribly sorry. For what? He didn't know. Sorry for himself. Sorry for Spock. And there was a twinge in his heart that made him sniffle in desperation and close his eyes tiredly. Squeeze them shut, more like, when he heard the dulled scuff-thud, scuff-thud, scuff-thud of boots on metal.

Worn and beaten, Kirk gulped but did not cringe when he heard Spock go around to the back of his head. The Vulcan was so close he could have kicked Kirk and killed him right there. Of course he wouldn't. And what would Kirk care anyway? Every sense he was granted was significantly dulled as his body started to try to repair itself. He heard ringing in his ears, saw blackness because his eyes were closed, smelt nothing because of the mucus and tears coating his throat, blocked out what he felt because the pull of cuffs on his hand really wasn't that pleasant to experience, and tasted the bitter fuzzy feeling on his tongue that he had only ever had the pleasure of tasting several times on account of his being rather wild the night before.

The combined effect of the dull sensitivity the human was experiencing made for a slow reaction when Spock knelt down and slipped something hard and cool on human skin onto Kirk's chin.

Jim felt something take hold of his jaw, holding it fast.

"Ah!" Kirk exclaimed, arching his back and squirming away from Spock. In a flash, a firm hand had his shoulder and had wrenched it around so his face slammed—again—into the hard floor.

Kirk moaned into the floor and felt a hand pressing into the back of his head. Shortly after, a sharp jerk to whatever it was around his head made him grind his teeth. He felt the painful pressure of a knee pressing into his shoulder blades and the ache of his chest digging into the floor. Cool hands were on his head, pressing a hard piece of something to the back of his head.

Kirk suddenly felt the need to jerk his head away. The thing all around his head made him feel trapped and uncomfortable, and was pulling his mouth shut by his chin. Kirk endured in growing misery this treatment; Spock's hands pulling a strap over his head and pulling it, snapping it tightly down. Then, the pressure on his back ceased and he was aware of the immobility of his jaw. But he didn't test it. He didn't want to know. After a long moment, he experimentally worked his jaw, but couldn't. He twisted his body and felt his hands still tightly bound.

Unexpectedly, terror griped Kirk and he felt suddenly horrified. He whined into the mask that covered his mouth and lock his jaw shut, squeezing his eyes closed. He was almost completely immobile and the sensation of trapped came over him like blood freezing solid in his veins. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, and a single word stopped him dead.

"Up, Jim."

What? Up. Up, what? In his state, his brain couldn't concentrate enough to understand the simple command. But that was what it was. A command, another command goddamn it. He sighed, his whole body too weak to move.

But too weak wasn't too weak for Spock, and as if things couldn't get any worse, another surge of fire ripped through Kirk's body. This one was too quick for him to react violently to yet long enough to make him choke out a sob. Tears ran down his face as he struggled with overpowering emotion; he was tired, how could Spock expect him to… he dry heaved into the mask. The pain. The pain was starting to seep into his soul. He shuddered; he shuddered right down to his heart. Cold.

"Up." Spock said again. But this time there was no mercy in his voice. It was hard, and unforgiving.

Kirk had no choice but to obey a voice like that. He was struck painfully by the feeling. His body was reacting despite the condition it was in. It knew—more than Kirk knew—that if it didn't comply… things would get a lot worse.

And so before Spock could think of hurting him again, Kirk found the strength to first push up his upper body, then use his legs get himself on his feet. He wobbled slightly, and sucked in a breath when his right foot sent a shock of pain through his leg. He stayed on his feet and took breaths to clear the pain. He rested his weight on his left leg, as the other seemed to be twisted or something. After all this, his entire body sagged and his eyes were huge and confused.

He really didn't know what to think anymore.

Unimaginably, Spock wasn't finished yet. He watched Kirk like this, watching his every move and when he was finally up, shot a hand out. Kirk's eyes snapped to his hand and he took a defensive position, legs apart and tense, shoulders hunched slightly as if ready to run or fight at any moment. So wild. The human's eyes were locked on his extended hand like a sniper on its target. Kirk swallowed and his Adams apple bobbed.

Faintly, Spock smiled. Kirk's reaction was perfect.

Sensing something, Kirk looked up to meet Spock's elated eyes, and his went suddenly confused. Betrayed. Horror filled. As if he had only now realized who was doing this to him; who was tormenting him like a puppeteer.

And he was right. Kirk was hit dumb like a ton of bricks had just fallen on his baby child. Nothing registered. Nothing except one very obvious fact.

This was not his Spock. Tears brimmed over his eyes at the inhumanity of the world.

Spock saw this and instantly hardened, pure cruelty slipping into his unfathomable eyes. A scowl appeared; it was no more than a crease between his eyebrows and a slight down turning of his lips but it was there. And Kirk crumpled inside when he saw it.

"Come with me." Spock said flatly.

Kirk didn't even blink. He shook his head once but it didn't mean anything. An automatic response to the power in Spock's voice. He had been Captain for so long, and still considered himself one, taking direct orders like that... It messed with him. He was torn between free will, and the promise of this strange person's wrath. What he found interesting, as he followed Spock out of the holding cell and into the long, dark corridor, was that when the promise of physical or mental harm in one's self or loved ones were on the line… decision making became as easy as yes or no. Right or wrong just didn't factor in on such a basic level. That was where the power was. That was what he needed to find a crack in. Because he would fight this. He would fight until there was nothing left to fight for.

He felt the harsh, restricting cuffs grind against his skin as he walked at a slow limp. Damn Vulcan. Beaten to the bone and tired as hell, as he passed Spock in the hall he kept his eyes on the pointed-eared alien like a vulture. Not for enough time that Spock would lash out at him, but enough time to convey the human spirit.

And then he turned away from the dark eyes, as he did so vowing the single metronome of escape. He would not only survive here. He would rebel until he did not need to, or at least do everything in his power to delay the inevitable.

A/N: Comments, questions, discussion (aside from inappropriate flaming) are all appreciated ;) I read everything and reply to all that I can (sign in guys, I'd love to chat!) and if you decide to read on, enjoy~