Strength of the Mind

Jim opened his eyes, still breathing hard, after having them shut for the whole time the pain being inflicted on him had made it impossible to even think or do anything but scream. Parmen had finally released him from it after torturing him in front of McCoy and Spock for a while, but the pain was still echoing as a sharp soreness all over his body.

He became aware of his surroundings again, realizing that his head had come to rest slightly against Spock's leg where he was sitting cross-legged on the shining marble floor behind him. A thin hand touched his shoulder, and Jim had known Spock long enough now to be able to recognize the concern in his voice when he spoke, even if he still sounded quite controlled.

"Jim," he said in a low, tight voice.

His head weakly rolled up to look at him and he attempted to look encouraging. "I'm okay," he said.

Spock's face was perfectly calm as usual, but he continued to grip his shoulder a little more tightly than was normal.

"Have you had enough amusement yet?" McCoy said sharply to their imprisoners—the Platonians, they called themselves—as the couple just relaxed in their luxurious chairs watching the three.

"That depends on whether you are ready to stop resisting yet," Parmen said.

A grunt of effort came from Jim as he was still lying down. Seeing that he was trying to sit up from the floor, Spock helped raise him up with swift ease and then steadied his back carefully before letting go.

"What is it that you want from us?" he demanded, looking across the room at Parmen and his wife Philana with heated rage. "You've made it clear already that we'll never be allowed to leave. You have my ship trapped in flight here with no intention of letting it get away. And you've already demonstrated in several colorful ways that we're incapable of any real resistance against you. If you want to prove your power over us is so limitless, why don't you just make us want to stay?"

Parmen gave a light laugh. "Captain Kirk, that is what I am doing," he said. "I can see you do not yet appreciate your place here and must learn to respect my power."

Like their servant, Jim realized. That poor dwarf who somehow lacked the telekinetic abilities that all the other people who lived here had and was treated worse than a pet around here because of it, always obedient and always in fear of them, even when their power wasn't being used on him to enforce his servitude. The Platonians would not allow anyone from his crew to escape and tell Starfleet about this place, so that was what they were all doomed to become if they couldn't figure out a way out of here.

"Surely you cannot think torturing our captain in front of us is an effective means to earn more eager cooperation from us," Spock says, his tone full of hard restraint.

Jim doubted they had really thought it through enough to have an answer to that. Besides putting Jim through that excruciating pain all over his body, they had already forced him and Bones to crawl around the floor acting like different animals and made Spock put his phaser to the kill setting and hold it aimed at himself just to get them scared for the unbearably long ten seconds that it looked like he might shoot it. Their experiences here so far had been more than enough to show that these people were far too deranged and sadistic to be reasoned with.

Philana's answer only confirmed his assumptions. "We are only having a bit of fun with you," she said, her tone almost friendly. "Do lighten up, Mr. Spock."

There was only a brief moment of delay following her words before Spock began to shake lightly with some sharp, exhaling breaths. Jim looked over at him and saw his mouth starting to curl into a strange, almost deranged-looking grin, and only then with a jolt of shock did he see what was happening. Spock was laughing.

The sound built up until his laughter was deep and echoing, loud and empty in the large chamber, and soon Spock was hunching over toward the floor and seemed hardly able to catch much breath. But his face stayed stuck in the same completely uncharacteristic overjoyed expression, eyes squinting and mouth open in a wide smile.

All the while Jim just watched him, wide-eyed in disbelief, and slowly shook his head. He had never expected he would ever find out what it would sound like to hear Spock laugh. It was strange how he had never even thought about it. And strange how right now, this way, it was one of the saddest things he had ever had to witness.

His reaction to Philana's influence seemed more than just physical, even if it was forced. If they could make someone feel happy enough to laugh hysterically, what else was possible for them to force on them?

Enraged, McCoy looked over at the Platonians. "You can't do this. He's a Vulcan," he said, for once in his life not pointing out the fact as an insult. "It'll destroy him!"

Philana's beautiful and cold face only looked back at him with a smug smirk. Then she looked back over at Spock and his laughing ceased. His smile was immediately wiped away, and then his face started to contort into an expression of profound misery. He curled his legs up against himself, wrapping his arms around his knees to partially hide his face in them. It was not hard to guess what was coming next even before the first soft, crying whimpers began to break out of him.

Frowning bitterly where he was sitting on the floor a few feet away, McCoy turned his face away and just sat very still resting a fist against his mouth, as if looking away seemed the only humane reaction to seeing Spock in this way that was so indecent and violating. Jim just kept looking at him sadly as his back started shaking repeatedly with low sobs.

"Spock," he said quietly, and Spock looked up at him, his breaths still coming in gasps as he wiped at an eye. "Spock, it's not real. You can't let them break you. You can't..."

"Christine?" McCoy then said softly in shock.

Jim did not understand until he looked up at him and followed his gaze to where two recognizable figures were now materializing several steps away. Nurse Chapel and Lieutenant Uhura. Jim glanced over at the two Platonians; judging by Philana's reaction, their presence was unexpected for her and therefore her husband's doing but a pleasant surprise.

"Ah, there we are," Parmen said in a self-satisfied way. "Some female additions should give a more interesting dynamic to this little show."

Uhura and Chapel both relaxed visibly once their bodies were no longer being controlled, going loose like puppets with their strings cut, and then both looked frightened and confused. When Uhura noticed Spock on the floor still crying endlessly, her eyes went wide with shock.

"What's going on?" Chapel asked as she took in their surroundings and started going closer to McCoy. "Where are we?'

Uhura also stepped closer to the others, her attention only on Spock. He looked up at her only long enough to acknowledge her arrival and say through his sobs, as if with the only control he still had of himself, "Not...you..."

She slowly shook her head in bewilderment and looked at Jim. "What's happening to him?" she said.

He looked toward the couple sitting very calmly at the front of the room. "It's them. They're doing it. Everything."

Uhura's face showed an intense mix of anger and sympathy as she quickly closed the remaining distance to Spock and dropped to the floor in front of him. For a split second Jim was scared she was going to embrace him and just make the humiliation of the whole situation even worse, but instead she grabbed Spock's shoulders firmly to make him look at her again and gave him a couple hard shakes.

"Spock, stop!" she said. "Spock! It's okay..."

Jim laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can't do anything," he said, his voice dull and weary.

Turning her face to look at him with desperate eyes, she seemed to only notice then how worn-out and weak he looked. "What did they do to you?" she asked softly.

But their attention was brought right back to Spock when he finally went quiet. He sat up straight, drawing in a long breath as he composed himself again, and quickly wiped his face clear with his sleeve. When he looked down at Uhura his face betrayed nothing, despite what it meant that she had been brought down here with them. But when she finally allowed herself to hug him, just leaning against him and settling her arms loosely around his waist, Jim thought he could see something dark in his face, as if her unexpected presence had brought down his last inner barrier of strength he had left. And he did not return the embrace, just lightly touched the small of her back and closed his eyes.

But the restrained touch was enough to make Philana start laughing. "You chose well from their crewmembers," she said to her husband. "I think the Vulcan cares about this one."

The statement made Parmen laugh a little as well, and then he directed his attention to Uhura and raised his hand.

"Ah!" She gasped as an invisible force jerked her forcefully away from Spock and made her rise ungracefully to her feet. Spock reached for her hand, as if it would do anything to stop them, just before she was pulled quickly out of reach.

The others could only watch as she and Nurse Chapel both slid out of their boots and tossed them aside, then proceeding to dance ballet across the open floor. Their movements were inhumanly graceful and perfectly synchronized with each other as they spinned and leapt around the floor where it was patterned black and white like a chessboard. Parmen watched with great amusement until he finally got bored, and then he released them when they were both still balancing on one delicately pointed foot so that they both immediately lost balance and collapsed sloppily onto the floor.

Jim was sitting near where Nurse Chapel fell, and he immediately stood up and went to help her up off the floor. Then he soon noticed Spock going over to Uhura with slightly fast and unnatural-looking strides. She was still sitting down rubbing her sore feet when he leaned down to take one of her wrists and pulled her up onto her feet rather roughly, in one easy and swift movement.

Uhura looked up at his face unsurely and tried to slide her wrist out of his grip, but his hand just tightened very firmly around it, making her visibly cringe from the pain.

Jim looked over at the ones responsible. "What are you doing?" he demanded tensely, and then started taking some slow steps to get closer to Spock and Uhura. Even if he knew there wasn't actually anything he could do to interfere with whatever was happening now, part of him just couldn't let himself stand there and not try to do anything about it.

Parmen smiled darkly as he continued to focus on Spock. "That incredible strength of yours," he mused as Spock unwillingly raised a hand near Uhura's face and then lightly stroked the backs of his fingers down the length of her neck. "It is useless against the kind I possess...And it is all mine to use."

Uhura's and Spock's eyes were locked intensely on each other, waiting, and then hers filled with fear when his hand moved to grip her around her neck...and tightened.

And tightened more.

Her hands flew up to her neck and pulled desperately at his hand to try to pry it away from her, her eyes now wide and terrified, her mouth open but completely silent as she tried to suck in air. Jim was no more than four steps away and he impulsively tried to go to her, but of course he only found himself suddenly frozen in place and not able to move any farther, just as every other officer in the room was also being held back from going near them.

McCoy's furious words came out practically in a growl. "Dammit, Parmen—We saved your life!"

From where Jim stood he could see Spock's face as it was still filled with focused intensity. He did not waste any words trying to convince the Platonians to stop, knowing it was useless. Instead he seemed to just be concentrating every effort in him on trying to break free of the control if it was at all possible, looking so deeply focused it was like he might break open at the seams from the strain any moment. But even he, a Vulcan with more control over his own mind than any human could comprehend, could do nothing to resist it.

With only the one hand he had closed around her throat, as if she weighed nearly nothing, Spock lifted Uhura up until her feet rose a foot off the floor. She started struggling wildly for only a few seconds before she then started to weaken, nearly going completely limp, and for an instant something crossed Spock's face that was very unfamiliar to see expressed on his usually blank visage.

The uncontrollable panic rose, and before he knew it Jim heard himself saying something. "Stop," he said miserably. "Please—She hasn't even done anything to offend you! Stop it!"

Jim felt his muscles going loose first, his body let go from the position it was stuck in. He lunged toward the two in front of him, and a second later Spock was freed as well and dropped Uhura, and then she and everyone else finally breathed again. With his eyes now wide, Spock's first instinct was to move back and far away from Uhura, as if afraid they might use him against her again. She was left to collapse back against Jim who catched her as she fell, then sank down to the floor with her as her legs failed weakly. He sat with an arm around her back, supporting her as she coughed and gasped loudly to catch her breath, and looked down at her with his eyes full of heavy and uninhibited relief.

"Well, look at this," came Philana's amused voice.

"It seems her Vulcan isn't the only one who cares for her," Parmen remarked to her.

As Uhura was finally starting to breathe normally again, Jim just shot them a burning look of hatred.

"Don't worry," said Philana, "we won't make you hurt her. She is just going to hurt him now...and give you what you want."

The room became very quiet. Everyone waited for what was going to happen, silent in fearful anticipation. Then there was only the quiet and smooth brushing of skin against skin as Jim found his hands moving down Uhura's bare arms. She had become very still in his arms, unable to move from this spot.

In his arms. He realized all the sudden that he was holding her, their bodies quite close as she rested back against him. Had they started that?

"No, just sit comfortably, Spock," he heard Parmen say coolly, perhaps reacting to him trying to move. "This is something we definitely want you to see."

Jim's head bent down, moving on its own, and as he embraced her from behind with his arms circled around her waist, he started kissing the soft skin at her neck right under her ear. And then something fell. They were making Spock watch, he realized. They were making him...

"No," said Chapel softly.

"You can't," McCoy said in a tight, disbelieving voice. "I'm begging you..."

But that was the last that anyone said before they were left with just the maddening silence. Uhura turned herself to the side so that she no longer had her back to him, raising an arm around his neck. Even as her body felt almost naturally relaxed against him, the expression on her face then was one of shock, denial. Jim put an arm under her bent knees and lifted them over him so that they lay over his lap, then ran his hand along her hip, up to her waist, leaning in toward her...

Uhura brought her hand to the back of his neck and closed her eyes to accept the kiss. Part of him registered the feeling of it as he would normally, the softness of her mouth molding against his, though he still felt partially disconnected from his own body and she was far away. But as their mouths were opened more and they started kissing more deeply and with more energy, her hands wandering down to his waist and then starting to pull the bottom of his shirt up, it was impossible to completely detach himself from it. This felt almost real, but only as if he were some kind of helpless soul trapped inside someone else's body and watching everything through their eyes, feeling everything they felt. He could do nothing to control it, but his body still seemed to be responding to it, completely independent of his horrified mind.

After Uhura lifted both of his shirts off over his head, he raked a hand back in her hair and started kissing her neck, his tongue and open mouth hot against her skin. She closed her eyes, her mouth dropped open, and he could hear her breathing becoming heavier. Soon his hand wandered from her hair down her back, around her waist, and down, sliding inside her skirt and in between her legs.

Jim got a brief chance while his mouth was not otherwise occupied to blurt out softly into her ear, "I'm sorry Nyota I'm sorry—God—"

Her only response—as if it could be called that—was a quiet, nearly inaudible whimper she made against his mouth as they kissed again, falling back into the dark. His fingers were moving deep into her warmth and making her start to unravel, and as impossible as it should have been, he could feel himself getting hard. Ridiculously fucking hard.

Soon she was moaning deeply, only in short and sharp sounds that sounded like they came out not entirely involuntarily, piercing through her steely efforts to keep some kind of grip on herself and not react. As Jim started pulling her underwear off, sliding it down the smooth lengths of her bent legs, her stomach was moving frantically with her labored breathing, seemingly in some combination of fear and arousal. The tenseness in the air was suffocating. Then she was reaching down to where all his blood was rushing warmly, reaching for the fly of his pants, opening and undoing with quick mechanical hands, very deliberately not looking up at his face as she was made to do it.

Jim's mouth was brought to hers again as she got up on his lap with her legs straddling him. Then their faces just remained close, their breath landing on each other's skin, as he took hold of her right above her waist. Their eyes met each other, locked still and opening wide with a vague look of final horror and My God is this really happening before he lifted her onto him. She was so wet and open and he slid in deep right away, bringing her mouth wide open in a gasp as her spine bent back for a second, and then their bodies started rocking together, against each other in a slow digging rhythm.

It was so sickeningly, overwhelmingly perfect, but it wasn't her and it wasn't him. This wasn't what he wanted, wasn't Uhura, that girl he'd watched from under her roommate's bed as she undressed to reveal her disappointingly conventional underwear, in a safe and cozy and immaculately clean dormitory room where there would be soft female laughter at night and she probably had a silk sleeping mask and equally conventional pajamas made of something too thick to glide against her lovely dark skin the right way when she moved. These were the dumb things he used to think about while looking at the back of her head during class. Right now he was trying not to think about Spock's gaze unwillingly and unwaveringly locked on him and punitively burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. He was thinking about his first memory of Uhura, the levity and humor of it, the way she had sized him up with her eyes after he knew what "xenolinguistics" meant and started laughing with him, and how it was all gone; he would never be able to think of her that way again.

Their bodies were so impossibly at ease, stimulated and responsive; to his intense shame, physically this felt good. More than good. And Uhura was obviously having the same experience judging by the way they were both panting desperately even as they tried to hold back, though as she let out soft moans he knew that in their heads the both of them were screaming.

They were no longer kissing at all, just clutching close to each other with her head buried in his shoulder, and suddenly she started whispering to him. "Jim?"

It brought him out of the nightmare just a little to hear her talking to him. Hoping the others wouldn't hear and stop them from being able to do just this, he muttered, "Yeah."

"Talk to me," she said, her voice sounding torn in two. "Just tell me anything. Anything to think about."

Going through his head for something that worked as a distraction was like trying to swim out of thick wet cement. His mind latched onto something random and distant and then he kept speaking softly in between gasps of breath. "I...I'm thinking about...that time my first year at the Academy...that night I caught you and your friends sneaking into one of the pools...after it was closed...Playing around and swimming in your underwear at one in the morning. And you said...if I told anybody about it you'd kill me."

She let out a sharp breath that could have been an empty, dark laugh. "You didn't," she said.

"No...I don't like to die."

They both went silent for a while after those words. She was hitching herself up on his lap and taking him faster now, as he was pulling her against him more vigorously. Then, with as much determination as he could manage to express, he murmured, "I'm going to get us out of here."

She remained silent a moment longer, and then her next whisper was heavy with hopelessness, so much that it almost sounded like there was nothing behind the words. "This isn't your fault."

"It's my responsibility—to keep you safe," he gasped softly. "That all this happened—"

"It's not your fault," she just said again, her voice breaking up as they were both getting closer to release. Then, "Sometimes you can't win, Jim."

He couldn't think about it anymore. He just closed his eyes and wanted to disappear. Somehow by now the thought of when it was finally going to be over and they would be in control again, having to look back and see with piercing clarity that this had happened and couldn't be undone, had become more terrifying than the action itself. He was clinging to her like she was the only thing there, not wanting the moment to come when his head would clear of the drugging heat and they would remember where they were and face the after.

But soon they were both shuddering hard, Jim dropping his head into her shoulder exhaustedly, and he felt her tighten convulsively around him the same moment he came. Then they gave them their bodies back while he was still inside her. The air around them felt so cool all the sudden, the large size of the room and the presence of all the others here moving back into their peripheral awareness. They both just kept their faces pointed down to the floor, not meeting eyes at all as they slid away from each other and quickly got themselves completely dressed again.