bakerstreet | The Attached Meme

The Attached Meme

The Attached Meme

Inspired by the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode of the same name.

Comment with your character, specifying name, canon, and gen/shipping/smut preferences, and/or tag someone else.
You and the other person now have two problems. One, you're aware of each other's surface thoughts regardless of either of your wishes, and two, if you try to distance yourselves from each other you're struck with nausea and vertigo until you manage to get close again.
Optionally, roll for or choose details:
1. You've been captured by some hostile force and had devices surgically implanted into the backs of your necks in order to facilitate interrogation. The mental link between you and dependency on proximity are just side-effects. Can you escape under these conditions?
2. You've been cursed by a spellcaster or supernatural being who wants you to "learn a lesson". Whether that's a real lesson about each other made possible by forced openness and time spent together or just the lesson of "don't mess with me" is an open question, and figuring it out may be key to having the curse broken...
3. One of you has suddenly awakened to latent paranormal powers, or your existing powers are suddenly misbehaving -- perhaps due to unforeseen interaction with the other person's abilities, if they have them. Maybe you could solve this, or at least the part about having to stay near each other, if you could only gain control over your power...
4. You were both willingly part of a scientific experiment, whether one of your own design or something you both volunteered for, and this... was not the result you signed up for. The mental link may or may not have been a known goal, but the involuntary aspect and the inability to separate aren't things either of you expected. Can science undo what it has done?
5. You both came into contact with an unknown substance, whether by accident or simply because of mutual curiosity, and this was the result. Now if you're going to be able to have privacy relative to each other again, you're going to have to figure out what it is and why it had the effect on you it did in order to find a way to counteract it.
6. Your choice, or something new!
Have fun!

Once the door closed, Spock resumed the stance he'd had in the lift, shoulders straight, hands behind his back. They had spent time in Jim's quarters before, playing chess and simply talking, but this felt... different, somehow. Perhaps because before they hadn't been linked, and before Jim hadn't been pointedly avoiding him while simultaneously staring him down when he thought Spock wasn't paying attention.

"The last mission," he began, only to pause and decide to take a different route. "Have you been experiencing anything out of the ordinary?"

For all of Spock's ability to adhere to a formal way of standing and communication, Kirk couldn't even manage it all the time when he was in dress uniform. He was naturally looser, generally more carefree. But today, he adopted Spock's rigidity like a badge...or because he suddenly couldn't help himself. It seemed the proper thing to do, which was a ridiculous thought.

Jim wet his lips, eyes only lifting towards Spock for a moment before he rejected his stands and plopped himself down in front of his terminal. Sensing his presence, the screen blinked into life hovering in the air over his desk. It illuminated his face in a blue glow.

"You...could say that. Melds don't usually have after affects do they? I mean the last time--" Which he couldn't talk about. Jim held his tongue, though surely, Spock knew by now of Spock Prime...and their meld. "Eh. Sorry. I'm just-- Did you do it wrong or something?"

Did he do it wrong or something? Spock knew it was illogical to be offended by that statement, but the fact that it was illogical didn't stop the curl of annoyance inside him, or the resulting lift of one slanted eyebrow. His posture straightened minutely, becoming even more rigid.

"The circumstances of our meld was quite different than any other. We were both under duress. Had the outside influences not been so adamant it would have been easier to break their hold on you. As it was, I had to go through them in order to reach you, and then I had to delve quite deeply."

Deeply hadn't been a word, before now, that particularly bothered him. Spock's admission, however, left him truly bothered and itchy. There was something about the way Spock's generally passive face contorted slightly that kept him from being able to swallow.

So what had he seen that deep down? Kirk's childhood? His pre-Academy coping mechanisms of heading to bars simply to start fights he didn't really have hopes of winning? What information had been exchanged?

"So... Did you leave something behind...?" Was there a piece of Spock in his mind now? Again, he felt that annoyance and knew he was not the source of it. Jim pressed his fingertips against the bridge of his nose. "I can feel you, okay? Like... Sorry for pissing you off about it, but I can."

The information from the meld was still in Spock's mind, safely tucked away. He hadn't examined it past the preliminary flashes when he'd first acquired it from Jim, and to be honest, until (if) Jim said he could, it would remain untouched. He had no desire to breach his captain's privacy any further than he already had.

At Jim's reaction to his annoyance, Spock flinched slightly. There was no point in denying being 'pissed off'; Jim could feel him, after all. He'd either let his shielding drop or the link was getting stronger somehow instead of weaker as he'd initially assumed it would with time.

"I... apologize," he began haltingly, some of the rigidity draining from his form. "The only way to know what has happened would be to meld again." A pause, before Spock added, "I have been able to feel you as well."

Edited 2014-03-23 08:29 (UTC)

Jim's face pinched in for a moment and he dropped his hand as his hand lifted. "I don't-- You don't need to apologize to me, Spock." It was just strange to see the other man's impassive face and still feel the often tumultuous emotions going on beneath the arching brow line.

Jim did the best he could to stay calm himself, unsure if they were feeding off of each other and what such a loop could do. Keeping himself calm, however, use to be so easy. Juggling the press of Spock's sporadic surface thoughts left him confused at best.

Another meld did seem the most logical-- Damn it. Kirk's eyes closed. "Yeah-- Okay. Um... Where should..." Standing up might not be the best way to deal with this so he gestured to his bed where they could sit together.

Spock's gaze darted to the bed when Jim gestured in it's direction. For a moment, it seemed he was going to say something. His lips parted, only to close just as quickly with a curt nod instead. Sitting was likely the better option. Melding was already a rather personal, intimate action; the setting made little difference. Moving to the bed, he sat down first, perching on the edge with his hands placed palms down on his thighs.

Edited 2014-03-24 01:14 (UTC)

Honestly, Jim didn't know that much about it, just that Vulcan hands were sensitive and...that made sense, didn't it? If they were touch telepathic, keeping their hands to themselves seemed about the proper way to go about things. No wonder Spock was very distant.

Wetting his lips, unsure of this, Jim steeled himself and tilted his chin downward slightly. "All right so... Uh... Just do it, I guess?"

There were very few species that truly knew about and understood the intricacies of Vulcan telepathy. Most information was speculation. It wasn't a weapon, although it could be used a one, had been used as one in the past, before Surak. It was inherently part of every Vulcan, deeply woven in their very DNA — and a Vulcan without telepathy might as well have been deaf and blind.

When Jim indicated he was ready (or as ready as he was going to get), Spock lifted one hand, carefully pressing his fingers to Jim's face, each fingertip over an individual psi-point. "My mind to your mind," he began. My thoughts to your thoughts.

He fell into Jim's mind with an almost disturbing ease.

Unlike words, thoughts came without any real linear pattern. One moment, Kirk was remembering a moment from childhood and the next, Khan was there. He was dying, then alive again. There was a bar where he hit on Spock's whatever Vulcans have instead of girlfriends. Pike. No Pike. Too much alcohol. Spock himself, so much older, so careful with Jim. His friend. His best friend. There had been a closeness there--

Jim struggled to hold onto that memory because it gave them a jumping off point. He fought like salmon in the streams on Earth, struggling to move forward against the current and pull some of Spock down into himself as well. A safety net. A blanket.

Eventually, their thoughts simply joined and it was like Spock had always been there. It was a comfort to be embraced, not pushed out.

I think I've forgotten how to sleep since... Since Khan.

The memories were a disorienting flash at first, one after another like a slideshow, only without any real order beyond whichever happened to be at the forefront of Jim's mind. He wasn't expecting Jim to latch on and try to drag him down. Most humans were psi-null. Even if someone understood telepathy, it was highly unlikely they would be able to react or even interact so ardently.

But Jim was reacting, was interacting, and Spock let himself be pulled in until their thoughts joined, merging like two different bodies of water.

The link was there. He could see it, glowing between them, bright and not at all fragile. Tentatively, gently, he plucked at the link and watched the subsequent ripples in awe. How...? Perhaps he had unintentionally left some of himself behind, but that alone wouldn't explain how the link had thrived all on its own, without the aid of himself or a healer.

I, too, have forgotten. You are not alone, Jim.

His own memories flickered around them, more controlled and concise than Jim's had been: He'd curled his fingers in against his palms, nails biting crescent-shaped marks into the soft, vulnerable flesh. He didn't feel the sting of pain, barely even registered that he was sobbing, breaths coming in harsh, ragged pants. His Vulcan heritage had failed him and his human heritage was a tidal wave of chaos, all of his careful controls shredded by the devastation that was Jim's death. Anger trickled through the devastation, tiny pinpricks of misdirected ire. The anger abruptly flared into a focused rage. Khan. Chasing Khan through the streets of London, fueled only by the need for vindication. Dark satisfaction when he broke the augment's arm.

I did not react so strongly even when... Even when his planet had been destroyed and his mother was lost. You compromise me.

You did try to kill me... The thought holds absolutely no animosity and the sudden memory of Spock choking the life from him over one of the consoles on the Bridge is something to laugh about now.

Spock had not had anyone to talk him through it, choked or not, when he went after Khan. And yet, Kirk had been witness to something he'd never even imagined could be possible.

The last few words of his first life, spent gazing up into Spock's tear-clouded eyes, had been whispered and tumultuous. As scared as Jim was, he'd needed Spock to be all right and they couldn't even touch.

Maybe that was where it started.

Maybe the Augment's blood inside of him was slowly changing him, or had changed him enough, to keep Spock close. Could it be his fault for all of this?

I keep taking advantage of you, don't I?

Shame-tinged amusement followed on the heels of that memory and Jim's remark.

You provoked me. As you often do.

He didn't consider what Jim did to be taking advantage. If Spock had more control — no, even then, he imagined he would bend over backwards for the human, no matter what the consequences. Consequences like the link, that he had no idea how to break, that he wasn't even sure he wanted to break. It wasn't up to him, though.

If you take advantage, then I allow it to happen. Jim, this link... is very similar to the bonding link between Vulcans. It is also stronger than I anticipated. I have had my shields up against it, so I did not realize until we joined.

As he spoke of the bonding link, a dim memory surfaced of a Vulcan girl just shy of seven years old.

There was almost too much information presented to him in Spock's memory push and Jim, with the limitations of a human mind, could not compartmentalize and analyze what he was seeing quite like the Vulcan could. However, a little effort and some trial and error, mixed with a little more creativity than Vulcans like to give themselves over to allowed him to replay the images slowly, like he was looking through data on a PADD.

His fingers even twitched slightly, a physical representation of what his mind was doing inside the shared space he and Spock had created between them.

A bonding link sounded fishy. How was it possible when one, Spock was only half Vulcan and Jim exactly no percent Vulcan? And about Uhura (and did that mean that Jim was going to have to look forward to whatever they did while alone)? And finally--

That girl.

Delving deeper, Jim saw her. T'Pring. The one Spock had been promised to until-- Well, he left Vulcan, likely, and started up his romance with their communications officer.

You forget; my mother was human, my father Vulcan, and yet they shared a bonding link.

He showed Jim a single thread, not nearly as bright or strong as the one between himself and Kirk — his connection to T'Pring, weakened by both distance and intent. It was no longer there, just a memory. She'd perished with Vulcan.

There was something deeper still, but Spock's shields were closed around it protectively.

Nyota and I are no longer in a romantic relationship.

Jim hadn't forgotten, he just thought that Spock's full-blooded Vulcan father had been able to do it... Or no, that was a lie. He hadn't even known that Vulcans telepathically bond before they mate. It wasn't in any of the books, Vulcans were secretive about their biology to a point where he remembered Bones flopping down on the floor one day and mentioning God damned side hearts! under his breath about a year into their stint at the Academy.

Where Spock's train of thought went, so too did Kirk's right up until he found himself blocked out. It felt raw and though he wondered if he could press into it still, he was immediately sidelined by Spock's admission.

"What?" It came out both physically and telepathically, that was how great his surprise had been. Wow. Sorry man.

And a jealousy that Kirk didn't even know he'd had faded.

Spock's fingers twitched against Jim's face at that outburst of surprise, and he raised his eyebrow again. Amusement rippled through the meld, then confusion when... something faded. Jealousy? Jealousy was not an emotion Spock had much experience with. Jealousy was illogical. Who had Jim been jealous of? Nyota, or —

He cut that thought short. It was a mutual decision.

Why? It wasn't exactly a question, more like a probing. The bond allowed for movements Jim didn't understand and Spock was understandably finding awkward to explain. There had been no bonding ritual, no tenuous start of a telepathic promise for eventual joining, and yet, here it was, quite accidental.

Jim immediately closed the question out when he realized what he was doing. This dance was impossible to navigate. He had two left feet.

Uh. So. This-- Us. Is it fixable? Did he want it to be fixed? Knowing it for what it was, couldn't it actually help them out? Relay commands, get through communication barriers-- Was that selflish?

Spock was aware of the human proclivity to gossip, to share more private information and as such he didn't take offense at Jim's question, simply let it go. Two left feet or not, he was still doing remarkably well, all things considered.

He hesitated when Jim asked if 'they' — if the link — was fixable. No, not fixable. If it could be removed. ...I do not know. Traditionally forged bonds can be broken by a healer, but at a cost. Because broken bonds were a wound; they festered and ached and eventually scarred over but an empty space was always left behind.

It made little sense for Kirk to lift his hand and mirror the touch (incorrectly) on Spock's face, but he'd done so, somehow, unfocused as his eyes were and living as he was in the bond rather than in physical reality for the moment. We're months away from any of your people, Spock, Jim thought, not testily, but in relief. Giving this up seemed impossibly wrong, but so too had sucking in his first gasp of air after Bones injected him with a serum of Augment blood.

And what if that had facilitated this whole mess? Made Jim susceptible? There were too many impossible questions.

I could ask you. Him. Spock knew about himself by now. Jim found no reason to hide it anyhow. The universe was not going to collapse. If anyone would know what all of this is suppose to mean-- Well two Spocks are better than one, right?

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The Attached Meme

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