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Summary:

Spock is held captive in a Cardassian facility and tortured for information. The only way he bears it is with the knowledge that at least Jim is safe. Unknown to him, they are forcing Jim to watch everything they do to his first officer.

This is going to be a multi-chapter fic. And it will be dealing with very dark themes. Darker than Finding Spock. Please heed the warnings if you are easily triggered. Star Trek: Discovery characters start making an appearance from chapter 31

Chapter Text

Damp. That was the word for it. The dark room smelt damp. The odor of weeks-old garbage, sewage water, and rotting meat made his gorge rise. But there was very little he could do about it. At this point, even opening his eyes was too difficult. Breathing was done with difficulty. Four cracked ribs, one shattered.

The cold, stone floor was dusty and rough against his sore back.

Normally, he had excellent night vision. But right now, there were black spots at the corner of his eyes. The ceiling was pitch dark. It could have been the night sky on a starless, no-moon night. But maybe, it was just a ceiling in a room with no light source and no windows.

Spock groaned. But even that little sound left him gasping and breathless. His legs were folded uncomfortably beneath him but he had no way of moving.

They really had done a number on him.

His pelvis was broken.

And it was sending shooting, agonizing pains through his legs and his spine. He needed to move, to get up, to somehow find a way to cover his naked body but he felt frozen.

He had felt frozen through the entire three hours of his ordeal.

“Dirty Vulcan, fucking speak,” the man with the hooked nose had screamed at him. “What is the mission of the Enterprise in Cardassian space? Where is the ship now?”

Well, they had wasted their time. Spock had not told them anything. And he was not going to in the future as well.

He had volunteered to beam down in order to collect an old-style physical packet containing important documents from a member of the Gillissomati, the main rebel group in Cardassia. They had been too worried about transmitting any intel through technological means, even encrypted ones. The Cardassian empire was building a stockpile of advanced weaponry for use against soon-to-be federation planets. Most of the mission had gone smoothly. He had met with members of the group, recorded enough victim testimonies to also charge the empire with grave sentient rights abuses. But somehow, someone, perhaps a traitor in the ranks of the rebels, had alerted the authorities to his presence. 

Mercifully, the minute Spock had realized that he was surrounded, he had used a portable transwarp beaming device to beam the package to the ship.

Had he beamed up as well, they would have tried to follow him to the ship. Now, however, they were convinced that they had foiled his plans and could torture him for information.

If only they knew. The mission had been accomplished. And they could not do anything about him. 

Spock felt a mad urge to laugh at that realization, no doubt an effect of the drugs they had pumped into his system. His command over his emotions and reactions had been compromised to a degree. He could only hope that death would claim him before he lost all control of his faculties. He hoped he would not bring dishonor upon himself.

Hope is illogical...

Unbidden, he let out a gleeful snort which turned into an uncontrollable fit of chuckles.

However, within moments, the pressure of his injuries increased and he felt his chest tighten.

Spock had always prided himself on his immense ability to suppress and ignore pain. In his opinion, he was managing well for now. But he wasn’t sure for how long. His ribs sent stabs of misery through his chest each time he tried to breathe deeply.

And the inability to shift his lower body was starting to give him pins-and-needles. Besides, the cell had gotten colder in the last few minutes.

Also, he needed to relieve himself. He had been holding his bladder for hours. But it was almost unbearable now.

With an effort that he knew he didn’t have the strength to make, he tried to lift himself up on his elbows. He gasped at the sudden discomfort but he refused to fall back. Beads of sweat broke out on his brow and trickled into his left eye.

It was the most difficult thing he had ever done. But he had no option. He tilted his hip joint just a little….

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH”

A tormented scream escaped from his lips and he collapsed back on the hard, dirty floor. Through a haze of pain, he blinked. A fog seemed to have descended upon his mind. He couldn’t think clearly anymore.

And what was that terrible smell?

At first, he wrinkled his nose at the nasty odor. But then, shamefully, he realized that there was a pool of something warm, thick, and wet under his legs.

He had lost control of his bladder.

This was unacceptable. He couldn’t allow himself to be reduced to an animal. He needed to move. But the minute he tried to raise his head again, his vision swam.

Maybe tomorrow then, he thought fuzzily.

A moment later, he put his head on the ground again, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

The blackness surrounded him as he slept uneasily.

But unknown to him, he was constantly being watched.

Silent tears rolled down Jim’s eyes.

Separated by a forcefield, he had no way of letting Spock know that he was here with him, that he would find a way to get them out. He had beamed down when he had seen the package materializing on the transporter pad without Spock.

A few hours later, he and his security detail had been caught. He had no idea where they had taken Lt. Giotto and his men. But Spock was in that cell. Tortured. Hurt. Injured.

Alone.

Because clearly, he could not see or hear anything outside the cell.

“Will you tell us what we want to know? Or will we have a little more fun with your Vulcan pet?” the Cardassian guard sneered at him.

They had not harmed him so far. But they had handcuffed him and forced him to watch the barbarity they had inflicted upon Spock. By the end of it, his face had been twisted into a mask of utter misery. The image would haunt Kirk for years. But right now, he could do nothing.

Spock looked so uncomfortable sleeping in such an unnatural, twisted position. He looked so small and weak, injured as he was.

“You have no compassion?” Kirk whispered at the Cardassian.

But the guard only laughed.

Kirk turned away from the mocking, leering Cardassian and turned back to Spock. Silently, he promised himself that he would get them out. He wondered if Scotty was looking for them. He desperately hoped he was. But even if that wasn’t the case, he knew he would do everything in his power to protect Spock from these monsters.