This is my first attempt at Star Trek fanfic, so I hope it makes sense.
I've already written most of this story with just a few tweaks left to do. As such I'll be updating regularly (real life permitting).
This'll be a blatant Kirk whump, mixed with plenty of Spock & McCoy angst along the way.
A Man of Duty
He couldn't raise his head, even if he'd wanted to. Three days of constant torture had taken their toll. Every part of his body burned with pain; every muscle, every nerve ending. And still he hadn't talked, hadn't told his tormentor what he wanted to know. The Federation had taught him well; he'd mastered ways of dealing with most forms of interrogation, from the pain wracking devices to the psychological torment of drug induced hell. Still – he didn't think he could take much more.
He tried to close his mind to the pain in his wrists - hanging as he was with feet barely touching the ground he knew they must be bloody and raw. Every finger on his mangled hands throbbed, all swollen; all broken. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to think about other things. What would he be doing if he were on the Enterprise right now? Sitting on the bridge giving out orders or walking through his ship, entering familiar compartments, smiling at familiar faces?
Instantly he thought of Spock and McCoy. He hoped that wherever they were they were safe; hoped that Spock was not dead. The last time that he'd seen his Vulcan first officer he'd been unconscious and bleeding. He hoped that McCoy had been able to patch him up. And he hoped that he would see them both again – but, in his present condition, he doubted he'd get that opportunity.
The sound of the dungeon door opening brought him sharply back to reality. He felt his heart pound faster, felt the sweat beginning to form on his brow, it was time to begin again!