Fic: Sparks
Title: Sparks
Artist: sunryder
Author: kenshincha
Beta: marlee813
Rating (both art/fic): PG/PG-13
Genre/Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Word Count: 6000
Warnings: None
Art Thumbnail:
Fic Summary: For the trekreversebang. In a universe where humans have mutations leading to super powers, Jim is rather disappointed in his.
Link to Art: HERE
Every kid dreamed about what powers they would get as soon as they learned in class about the X-gene, the mutation that caused people to get superhuman abilities. You couldn't choose what you wanted, and it could be hard to determine exactly how your genes would manifest unless your parent's powers were similar. Powers didn't usually manifest until puberty, so whole childhoods were filled with fantasies about what power they could get. Adolescence would, in turn, be filled with angst and disappointment over getting a power you didn't want.
Jim had always hoped for a super awesome, super destructive power. Laser eyes, lightening out of his fingers, super strength. Hell, he would have even happy with freaking gills and webbed feet.
Emotional projection.
How completely useless was that? He didn't even get to read thoughts or do mind control. He just got to influence people's emotions. He couldn't even decide what emotions they felt; he always just projected whatever he was feeling.
For a long time, Jim was only seen as a class disruptor. When he became out of control, so did everyone else. It wasn't until he had gotten into a yelling match with one of his teachers, getting angrier and angrier until the teacher finally slapped him. It broke the tension and the teacher had been so horrified, they quickly called in the school counselor.
A week of tests later and he was declared a mutant of the telepathic group.
Jim had been pulled out of public school until he could be taught to control his powers. Fellow mutants with similar empathic powers and even some telepathic aliens came to try and help him, but nothing seemed to work. His projection was apparently so strong, that even they were affected. It only led Jim to get more and more frustrated with each visitor. His mother was off planet and his brother had already run away, but Uncle Frank had been driven away by their constant fighting, leaving on Jim's 18th birthday.
After that, Jim stopped all visitations. As long as Jim wasn't a danger to anyone, the government couldn't force him to train. So Jim stuck to the isolated farmhouse, and only went into town when he needed food. He went to a bar a few times and got laid, but the thought occurred to him that these women and men may not actually be consenting. He influenced their emotions to mirror his. What if they really wouldn't want to sleep with him? His hook-ups plummeted right to zero.
After that, Jim kept to himself. He tried some drugs that limited the activation of neurons in his hyper-specialized limbic system, but that just lessened all his emotions, leaving him lethargic and completely apathetic to anything.
Jim had pretty much given up until he got a phone call from a certain captain at the Starfleet Mutant Academy.
Jim looked at his surroundings for what seemed to be the millionth time. It was a small single in the top floor of Starfleet's psychic student dormitory in San Francisco. Pike had said they needed to prepare a special room for him. If he knew they were going to remodel an apartment for him, he would have insisted on giving some input. It was drab and miserable, sparsely decorated with a few pieces of furniture. They didn't even bother to cover the shiny metal imported from Betazed that made up the walls, floor and ceiling. It blocked all telepathy from going in and out. It was used on Betazed to help any Betazoid who experienced mental trauma and needed a mentally quiet location. Jim's projections had apparently been so strong, they needed to double the thickness from one inch to two.
At least they brought some rugs in, but the blank space was starting to grate on Jim's nerves. They couldn't even put windows in; they installed vidscreens to simulate a view to the outside would. Vidscreens were high definition, but it was obvious it wasn't a window when you looked at it from an angle. And even if you did look at it head-on, you couldn't feel the sun on your face.
And it was too quiet, even when he turned music on to the highest volume. It was a strange, dark mass in the back of his mind. Jim felt as if he was being subjected to a sensory deprivation experiment, trapped in this room by himself with four pieces of furniture and a fake window. Maybe he was too used to little noises he didn't originally notice, the background noise of cars passing on the street, shuttles passing overhead, a couple yelling at each other, fucking birds.
Not for the first time, Jim wished his mental powers extended to being able to throw things with his mind.
Jim let out a frustrated yell at the top of his lungs that didn't even have the decency to echo off the walls. He'd been locked in this room for 29 days. All of his requests to leave were denied. It only took five days for Jim to try and escape and another five to realize that there was no way out. He couldn't even hack his way out with such a basic comm.
When he heard the buzzer, Jim got up from his sprawl on the couch and went to the comm at his desk. Seeing the blank screen, he wondered if he was going crazy. When the buzz happened again, he realized it was the door. Jim blinked in surprise. He never had an actual visitor since they’d put him in this room. That was the point of these walls, to keep Jim in here and everyone else out.
His initial excitement at having actual human contact and hoping it was a pretty yeoman, was quickly crushed by annoyance. Jim couldn't even open the door himself. Why the hell was there a buzzer?
He stomped over to the wall comm and pushed the button with as much aggression as he could; his sanity was relying on small victories at this point. "Yeah?"
"Are you decent?" the voice of Captain Pike came through.
"Would you rather I not be?" Jim asked. He blinked. He must be sex starved if he was already started flirting with the first person he'd talked to in days.
"Kirk."
Jim sighed. "Yeah, but, uh, give me a second."
"Take whatever time you need," Pike said.
Jim fought a surge of annoyance at softened tone. He depressed the button, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was a trick the Betazoids tried to teach him. Needless to say, Jim wasn't one for meditation. If he tried too long, he just got more agitated, but if he just wanted to try and calm himself down, it normally worked well enough. He used to imagine himself on his bike, but being cooped up just caused the idea to irritate him. Sitting on a porch swing would have to do.
When Jim felt he was calm, or at least calm enough, he pressed the button again. "Alright, come in."
It took a little while for Pike to enter, as there was basically an airlock so his emotions wouldn't escape through the open door. Pike walked in with a military posture. He stopped and glanced around the room. There wasn't much there so it didn't take long. His eyes finally landed on Jim, a small smile on his face. "How are you holding up, kid?" Pike's amused face shifted into a scowl, his brows pulling together and showing the annoyance Jim felt.
The effect Jim had on people still amazed him. Since he hadn't actually been around many people after he became aware of his mutation, he didn't actually see much of what his powers did to others.
Luckily his awe also affected Pike and the wrinkles between his brow smoothed out and his smile reappeared. "I'll see what I can do about getting you some more things to fill in the space. Starfleet doesn't issue game systems, but I'm sure you can modify an old simulator to amuse yourself." Pike let out a small sigh.
"Yeah, that would be great." Jim said, though he lacked enthusiasm. "I'm going fucking crazy in here. If you guys can't figure anything out soon, I'm just going to go back to Iowa."
"I may have come up with a solution to your problem," Pike said, his mouth forming into a frown and his eyes moving as if he was stopping himself from rolling them.
"Forgive me for being skeptical."
"You're right. It doesn't have a high probability of working," Pike said before stopping and seeming to mentally shake Jim's pessimism away. "It's definitely unique, but very simple. Honestly, I don't know why it hasn't been tried before, or why it took me so long to consider." Pike raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
"Oh yeah? And what's this perfect solution?"
Pike hesitated, suddenly unsure of his plan. He put a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows drawing together in frustration that may have been Jim's or his own. Pike was obviously not a man who was used to second-guessing himself. Jim wished he could give Pike his confidence back, but Jim was just too doubtful. It only took a moment for Pike to steel his conviction once more. "A Vulcan." Pike’s eyes widened in shock.
"A Vulcan? What good would a Vulcan do me? They don't feel emotions."
Pike shook his head. He turned and started a slow pace, as if not standing so close to Jim would lessen the effect on him. "Not for a lack of having them," he corrected. "They learn to control and suppress their emotions so they don't affect their thinking. Maybe some of their techniques can help you. The Betazoid were an obvious choice, but they don't actually excel in controlling their emotions; their emotions are as dynamic as that of a human. Vulcans on the other hand specialize in mental discipline." Pike's lips flattened to a thin line.
Jim had to admit that made sense. Of course Betazoids and other mutant empaths made sense too. "This is the last chance, Pike. I'm tired of being stuck in this damn room."
"It hasn't been that long," Pike snapped. "You have to give us time. You're a special case." His face contorted in anger.
"I haven't hurt anyone but I'm fucking imprisoned in this room! I've only been talking to people through the comms. I might as well just go home for all the good this has done me."
"There isn't a quick fix for this Kirk," Pike shouted back. "You have to give us time--" His lips twisted into a snarl.
"And until then, I'll just be trapped in here until you end up shooting me into fucking space and landing me on some enemy planet, hoping my emotions will start a civil war--"
Pike gave a loud frustrated sound and slammed the side of his fist against a metal wall. A button on his cuff let out a loud ting that caused both of them to startle in surprise. They stared at each other for a long moment before Jim looked away with a groan and walked over to the stiff couch, slumping down on it in defeat. It had barely been five minutes and it was already happening again.
Pike's expression mirrored his tired frustration. "I know this is hard, Jim. This isn't just about training another officer to go out into space; it's about your quality of life. You can't live like this without completely ostracizing yourself from society."
Jim sighed. "I'll try working with a Vulcan, if you can even find one that'll help."
Pike gave a tired smile. "I wouldn't worry about that."
Jim was quiet for a moment before finally speaking. "I'll try it, but I wasn't joking when I said this was it. When this doesn't work, I'm going back to the farmhouse."
"If it doesn't work, Jim," Pike said while sounding unsure himself. "Vulcans look at emotions in a completely different way. Maybe this is what you need."
Jim and Pike both looked skeptical, but Jim nodded in agreement.
=//\\=
Jim got the call three days later. He was almost grateful for it. Pike had followed through on his promise to get Jim a small portable simulator, but there was only so many warbirds he could blow up before he got bored.
He didn't bother to change out of his ratty gray hoodie before sitting down and accepting the call.
The face that greeted him looked pretty much exactly as he expected it to. Sharp features, black bowl cut hair, dark eyes, pointed ears and a completely blank expression. What he hadn't been expecting was for him to be wearing a Starfleet instructor's uniform.
The Vulcan took in Jim's attire, but whether he disapproved of his clothing or not, he of course did not show it. "I am Spock. Am I speaking to James Tiberius Kirk?"
"One and only," Jim said, a cocky grin sliding into place. "I didn't know there were any Vulcans here at the academy. I thought it was mutants only."
Spock paused for a moment, as if considering whether he should answer. "My mother was human. It was her genes that gave me my mutation."
Jim's eyebrows raised in surprise. He hadn't been aware that humans and Vulcans were sexually compatible. "What's your power?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "It is not related to telepathy."
"What is it?"
"As it is not related to the purpose of our meeting, I do not think it is relevant."
Jim had heard Vulcans were private, but this was crazy. It was as common a question as asking someone what they did for a living. "I'd still like to know."
Spock's lip's tightened slightly, as if he was preventing himself from frowning. "I am able to alter the composition of my epidermis to a strong metallic state."
"Oh, you can turn your skin into metal?" Jim asked. Now that Spock mentioned it, his skin did have a bit of a shiny gray tint to it.
"I believe that is what I just stated."
Jim couldn't help but smile, the first real one he'd had in a long time. "In not so many words, yes."
"Captain Pike has briefed me on your mutation," Spock said, effectively getting back to the topic at hand. "However, I would like you to describe your mutation in your own words."
Jim let out a heavy breath and leaned back in his chair. It was all in his file, so he hadn't explained it in a long time. He had to think about it a moment. His eyes drifted to the fake window that showed a drizzly day. Jim spared a second to wonder if that’s what the weather was actually like outside. "I project my emotions onto anyone close by, forcing them to feel how I feel."
"On your file, it says the range of your ability is ten meters. Do you believe this is accurate?"
Jim frowned. "I think it's strongest within ten meters, but I still affect people within 15 meters probably.”
Spock looked down, probably making a note of it. "That is quite an impressive range. The average range for most mutant empaths is only 3 meters. Many more require touch."
Jim shrugged. He'd heard it all before.
"Have you been able to control your abilities in any way? Perhaps in the emotions you project or to whom you project?"
Jim could already feel that old frustration coming back. "No. I've never been able to control any of it. I've tried figuring it out on my own but I don't get anywhere and anyone who tries to help me, they usually just receive my anger, and it's a lucky break when it doesn't result in blows."
Usually, people only looked sympathetic when he told them about it. Maybe it was an empathy thing. Spock on the other hand just looked intrigued, like Jim was an experiment that was disproving his hypotheses. It would have been insulting if Jim didn't find it amusing, and maybe a little bit endearing.
"Fascinating," Spock said with a tilt of his head. "My schedule is clear this evening if you wish to meet in person."
"Already?" Jim asked.
"Unless that is a problem, yes. Though I must warn you, it is probable that I will want to perform a Vulcan mind meld on you at some point, to gain a clearer picture of your mental state." Spock almost sounded enthusiastic as he typed on the side of his screen. "I will have some information on Vulcan telepathy and technique sent to you. I suggest you read it, as it will give you a clearer idea as to what I will be attempting to do. I ask that you do not distribute any of the information given, as it is information rarely given to outsiders."
Jim blinked, surprised the guy was already shoving Vulcan secrets at him. He started to wonder if Vulcans could send emotions electronically, because his enthusiasm felt rather contagious. "Yeah, sure. Not like I have anyone to share it with anyway."
"Would twenty hundred hours suffice?"
"Uh, sure. That works."
Spock gave a nod. "I will see you then," he said before breaking the connection.
Jim stared at the screen and wondered what exactly he got himself into.
Jim spent most of his time before 8 o'clock reading the papers Spock had sent him. The first articles were already things that Jim had read, about a Vulcan's telepathy centering on touch, extending weakly into projection as well. The others were more informative but also confusing and just a little bit daunting. Vulcans apparently consciously controlled most of their body systems, things that the human body regulated through their autonomic nervous system. Of course, as interesting as it all was, Jim didn't think he could do any of it. Their techniques called for a much higher amount of body control than he would be able to perform.
It was exactly 2000 when the buzzer went off. Jim sighed at the door before getting up. He didn't know why he suddenly felt excited, like this was going to fix him when no one else ever came close.
As soon as the door opened, Spock looked as if he had been slapped with it. His eyes widened in surprise before tightening. He pressed finger tips against his temple.
Jim took a step back, not that it would help. "Are you... Are you okay?"
Spock's eyes unfocused, as if looking inward. For a moment Jim wondered if Spock heard him. "Yes. However, I had not anticipated your abilities to be so invasive. An error on my part for not predicting it would be stronger."
Jim almost felt disappointed. Not that he thought Spock could actually fix him, but he had hoped probably a little more than he should have. "Maybe you should go?"
"No. I will merely need to strengthen my mental shields. I have not had to do so in some time, so our lessons may be short until I grow accustomed to the strain."
"Would you like to come in to do that, or...?"
This time Spock did not answer, and Jim figured he was happy where he was. It took ten minutes of stillness. Jim was almost going crazier than when he was alone. Spock finally blinked and lowered his hand. "I should not require the same amount of time when next we meet. I will meditate to prepare before coming here."
"Sure," Jim agreed easily. "So, you're cool now? Not going to pass out or anything?"
"No, I will not."
Jim gestured towards the couch and Spock inclined his head before walking over to sit down. If Jim thought Pike's back was straight, he had nothing on this guy. "I've got beer and water."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not believe alcohol would be appropriate at this time. Water, please."
Jim fought back a smile as he filled to glasses of water in the kitchen area and returned. He set them on the coffee table and sat on the couch himself, mindful to keep his distance.
"Have you read the material I sent you?" Spock asked, and Jim nodded. "Very good. Would you be opposed to allowing me to touch your mind?"
Jim jerked back in surprise. "What? Now? Already?"
Spock gave a short nod. "A mind meld is never proposed lightly. I had planned on attempting to gauge your mind without touch; however, it is clear that your projection is too powerful to allow me to do so."
Jim frowned. He didn't like the idea of people touching his mind. Then again, he'd already been touching other people with his mind since before he could remember. What was the difference in it happening more directly? "Yeah, alright."
Spock leaned forward. Long fingers hovered over the side of Jim's face. Jim couldn't help but strain his eyes on the blurry fingers too close to focus on. "I will not delve too deeply into your mind. If there is anything you do not want me to see, than do not think of it."
Jim huffed a laugh. "When you tell a human to not think of something, that's going to be the exact thing they think about.”
Jim could have sworn he saw the corner of Spock's mouth twitch up, but it was probably just a trick of his eyes. "I suggest you close your eyes."
Jim looked forward and closed his eyes. For a long moment nothing happened, and he had to fight back the panic from the vulnerability. He jumped slightly when Spock's fingers finally touched his face. Almost immediately something in Jim's mind shifted. He let out a tiny noise, almost a groan. That strange void in the back of his mind was gone, replaced with something he couldn't describe.
Spock entered his mind gently. It felt strange, slightly invasive but it didn't hurt exactly. He felt/sensed/saw Spock float in his mind, a darkness that blocked out the dancing of the different lights of his emotions and thoughts.
Jim startled when he felt Spock's interest in the scene. It was strange, feeling someone else's emotions. Jim didn't know how he knew the feeling wasn't his, but he was completely certain of the fact. Jim observed Spock as he rummaged around Jim's mind, touching almost anything he could like a strange spider feeling along the threads of the web of his mind, searching for the vibrations that would lead to its prey.
Jim didn't know if Spock found what he was looking for or not. Either way Spock retreated from Jim's mind, and soon the void returned. Jim winced at the feeling and opened his eyes. It seemed darker in the room and he felt tired.
"An enlightening experience, quite literally."
Jim jumped and looked over. He'd somehow already forgotten Spock was there. Jim scrubbed his face with his hand. "What time is it?"
"Fourteen minutes to midnight."
"Damn," Jim muttered. "I didn't think we were in my mind that long."
"Time as the mind perceives it is very fluid." Spock took a sip of water from his glass.
Suddenly realizing how thirsty he was, Jim chugged his own water down. He coughed. "So, I guess you learned a lot?"
"Yes, although it took some time. I am not accustomed to seeing thoughts with so much emotion attached to them. It took some time for me to be able to translate them."
"Did you find what you wanted?"
"Indeed. I managed to discover how your mind works."
Jim frowned. "How it works?"
"Yes. It would be ineffective to expect you to control your mind in a way that would be uncomfortable for you." Spock stood. "It is late, and you require rest. Perhaps we can continue this later this week."
Jim nodded and showed Spock out. His head didn't hurt, but he felt tired in a way he had never experienced before. Mentally tired, like he'd actually used all of his ability's energy. He'd heard of such a thing but had never actually felt it. It actually felt satisfying, like a hard day's work refitting his cycle.
The void was back, but it didn't bother Jim as much, and he was able to get his first full night's rest since he got there.
=//\\=
"You were aware of my movements in your mind. You watched me."
They were sitting on the couch again. The window behind them showed a mellow morning, light but cloudy. Jim's mind was fuzzy with sleep, which he thought was counterproductive. Spock looked as fresh and awake as if he'd been sleeping for the past four days.
Spock was looked at him expectantly. Jim blinked. "Did you ask something?"
Spock quirked an eyebrow. "You were aware of my movements in your mind. Do you remember sensing me?"
Jim stretched, and noticed Spock's eyes watching him. Normally he'd flirt, but Spock was probably just studying his anatomy in a scientific and boring way. "Yeah, I remember."
"You did not merely feel my presence; you saw it, picturing myself as a spider walking on the neurons of your mind."
"Yeah, although that's pretty creepy now that you say it out loud." Jim resisted the urge to scratch the imaginary inch inside his brain caused by the thought of spiders in it.
"I believe that is the key to your ability to control your abilities."
Jim jerked back. "What, spiders?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "No. Visualization. In your mind, you pictured your emotions to be sparks of light. Perhaps if you visualize closing those lights off behind a shade, you will no longer project."
Jim considered it for a moment. "My brain kind of looked like Christmas lights. Maybe if I just imagine unplugging them. Or would that leave me comatose or something?"
The corner of Spock's mouth definitely twitched up that time. "I doubt you have the control to mentally commit suicide, though you may want to shy away from completely turning them off."
"Shades, right." Jim leaned forward. It definitely wasn't something he had tried before. "So, do we meld again?"
"That should not be necessary. I will be able to gradually lower my shields, allowing me to check your progress."
Jim nodded. "Should I start now?"
"Whenever you are ready," Spock agreed.
Jim let out a long breath before closing his eyes. For a while he didn't see anything but black.
Visualization. So he just had to picture lights right? An image of a brain made of twisted threads came to mind. It was mostly yellow. It floated in the middle of his headspace. The lights were constantly moving and were bright, somehow lighting the void though there was nothing for it to lighten. But there was something else too. A tiny pin prick of light that he could barely see, but he was sure was there. It looked like a star. He didn't know how he knew, but it was Spock with his shields barely lowered.
Jim turned his attention back to this treaded brain which took on the look of both a brain and a planet, but it was hard to see where one image began and the other stopped. A shade probably wouldn't work on it, but maybe a blanket? A dark blue blanket materialized out of nowhere and enveloped the brain-planet, making the dark space seem even darker.
He held the image in his mind before slowly opening his eyes. He was looking at both Spock and the space he had created. Spock tilted his head, and the small light brightened. Jim felt awe and saw the white point begin to color yellow. The light suddenly blinked out, and when Jim looked back to his planet, he saw that the blanket had slipped off.
"Very impressive for your first try," Spock said, drawing Jim out of his head, until he was only aware of Spock and his gray apartment.
"I don't think my visual was really good though." Jim took a sip of his coffee, finding it surprisingly cold. He would need to learn how to tell time better when he was in his mind.
"What did you picture?"
"A lit up brain that I wrapped in a blanket," Jim said sheepishly.
"Perhaps not the most efficient visual, no. However, it did prove that you were able to better control your abilities this way. I was able to lower my shields much further before I started to become effected."
"The blanket slipped off," Jim muttered. "I could actually tell when you were being affected."
Spock's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Indeed?"
"Yeah," Jim said slowly, not sure why this seemed to shocked Spock. "I could see you. You were this little point of white light. It started to get colored yellow right before you shut your shields.”
"You saw me shut my shields as well?"
"And when you had started to open them."
Spock actually looked rather impressed. “It appears your mutation is not only the projection of emotions but also the perception of the emotions of others."
Jim blinked. "I don't think I've been able to do that before though."
"I believe you have," Spock corrected. "Your file describes the confrontations you always seemed to enter into with others. I postulate that when you became frustrated with your situation, you projected anger onto others. You would then sense their anger and became angrier yourself, in turn making them angrier."
Jim was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."
"We will need to make observations once you gain more control of your projecting abilities."
Jim winced. "How long do you think it's going to take?" He didn't want to stay in this apartment one more minute than he had to. Of course Spock was actually kind of making it bearable.
Spock's voice took on a gentler tone. "It will take time, Jim. You will need to find a visual you are more comfortable with."
"This isn't really effective if I have to stop and picture all of this."
"I would not worry about this. Vulcan children begin to control their minds in much the same way."
Jim smirked. "So, what? I'm on the Vulcan equivalent of grade 1 telepathy?"
"If you wish to see it that way."
Jim laughed, his mood brightening considerably. Maybe he hadn't really done a whole lot in the scheme of things, but he'd certainly accomplished more in a few hours with Spock than he had after years of others. "Spock, I'm... Thanks. I really didn't think I'd ever be able to control it, like I was a failed mutation."
Spock inclined his head. "I am merely grateful that I can aide you."
=//\\=
Jim shoveled a few spoonfuls of red curry and rice before swallowing and watching Spock, who ate is vegetarian miso soup like he was dining with the queen. Jim was actually looking forward to the times when Spock would come over, the first real contact he'd had with someone since his powers manifested. It had been a few weeks since their first real lesson, and Jim had managed to hone down his visualization to a bright planet that he hid inside a cookie jar, of all things. Jim was getting better at doing it quickly too. He still couldn't tell time, though.
At this point, Jim was able to limit his projections most of the day. At that moment, Spock's shields were lowered to the strength he usually used when he was out in public.
"So, Vulcans don't have mutations, do they?"
Spock's spoon paused on its way down to the soup before continuing the movement. "No, as a species, they do not."
"You must have been real popular, being the only one with any special powers."
"I would not say that," Spock said slowly. "On Vulcan, one is expected to conform to society. I am a Vulcan in the way that I act; however, everyone else only saw me as a hybrid. A mutant hybrid."
Jim could suddenly hear everything that Spock wasn't saying. Taunts and jibes and shunning. No wonder Spock had been so naturally reluctant to tell Jim what his mutation was. "Can I see it?"
Spock glanced over. With the lowered shields, Jim sensed some of his feelings. They were very subdued, and difficult to see sometimes, but they were there. At that moment, Jim had felt Spock's spike of fear. "I do not frequently use it."
"I'm human, Spock," Jim said with a cocky grin, trying to put Spock at ease. "I'm just going to think it's awesome."
Spock hesitated before closing his eyes. His skin shifted and gray liquid that almost looked like mercury began to cover his skin, hair and clothing. Spock opened his eyes to show to smooth metal. When it was complete, Spock almost looked like a steel statue sitting on Jim's couch. He was almost as still as one, too, as if expecting Jim to recoil away at any moment.
Jim brought his hand up, but managed to stop himself before he actually touched him. Considering Spock was a statue, it was hard to tell if he tensed at Jim's hand or not. "Can I?" Jim asked.
Spock still didn't move, and Jim started to wonder if Spock's mutation turned his skin into metal what wouldn't let him move.
"If you wish," Spock suddenly spoke, his voice strangely metallic. "My telepathic abilities are greatly lessened in this form."
He grinned before stroking his fingers on Spock's shoulder and down his chest. The metal was smooth and pleasantly warm to the touch. Jim pressed his palm against the metal. It was probably a more intimate touch than he should do, but he couldn't stop himself. He moved it down to Spock's side. He blinked in surprise. "Your heart is beating through the metal."
Spock moved his hand and placed it on Jim's, surprisingly gentle for the physical power Jim was sure Spock possessed.
Jim didn't know how Vulcans couldn't admire this form. Spock's facial expression was completely frozen, and Jim could barely sense his presence.
"Perhaps tomorrow, we can test your abilities outside of this room."
Jim's jaw dropped. "Do you think I'm ready?"
"I believe you are. You may still affect others but not to the extent you did before. I will monitor you."
The thought that he could finally leave this room was overwhelming, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and pressing his lips against Spock's. When he pulled back, Spock's metal was gone. Jim would have been disappointed, but he could see a green flush on Spock's cheeks and his small pulse of light was back, showing a lovely pink.
"Can we go now?" Jim asked.
Spock glanced over to the artificial window, showing the last of the daylight. "As you wish."
Jim all but dragged Spock to the comm by his wrist. Spock’s eyes widened in surprise, but he did not comment as Jim pressed the button to contact Starfleet command. All it took was Spock’s authorization for the doors to open and reveal the airlock. They both walked in and waited for the other door to close.
Jim reached forward to open the outer door that would lead to his freedom, but he hesitated. What if he wasn’t ready? His control still wasn’t perfect yet, and a lot of times he would slip. What if he became so frustrated he started a riot in the middle of the city?
Jim felt Spock move to clasp their hands together. “I will be here for you. Take a moment to calm yourself.”
Jim did as he was told, taking a deep breath and watched as this bright planet that was an erratic mixture of oranges and blues was concealed once more in its vessel. Jim paused for a minute, as if afraid to back out again. He noticed Spock’s star in the distance, suddenly quite bright and shining confidence on him.
Jim opened his eyes and, with a glance at Spock, opened the door.
Artist: sunryder
Author: kenshincha
Beta: marlee813
Rating (both art/fic): PG/PG-13
Genre/Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Word Count: 6000
Warnings: None
Art Thumbnail:
Fic Summary: For the trekreversebang. In a universe where humans have mutations leading to super powers, Jim is rather disappointed in his.
Link to Art: HERE
Every kid dreamed about what powers they would get as soon as they learned in class about the X-gene, the mutation that caused people to get superhuman abilities. You couldn't choose what you wanted, and it could be hard to determine exactly how your genes would manifest unless your parent's powers were similar. Powers didn't usually manifest until puberty, so whole childhoods were filled with fantasies about what power they could get. Adolescence would, in turn, be filled with angst and disappointment over getting a power you didn't want.
Jim had always hoped for a super awesome, super destructive power. Laser eyes, lightening out of his fingers, super strength. Hell, he would have even happy with freaking gills and webbed feet.
Emotional projection.
How completely useless was that? He didn't even get to read thoughts or do mind control. He just got to influence people's emotions. He couldn't even decide what emotions they felt; he always just projected whatever he was feeling.
For a long time, Jim was only seen as a class disruptor. When he became out of control, so did everyone else. It wasn't until he had gotten into a yelling match with one of his teachers, getting angrier and angrier until the teacher finally slapped him. It broke the tension and the teacher had been so horrified, they quickly called in the school counselor.
A week of tests later and he was declared a mutant of the telepathic group.
Jim had been pulled out of public school until he could be taught to control his powers. Fellow mutants with similar empathic powers and even some telepathic aliens came to try and help him, but nothing seemed to work. His projection was apparently so strong, that even they were affected. It only led Jim to get more and more frustrated with each visitor. His mother was off planet and his brother had already run away, but Uncle Frank had been driven away by their constant fighting, leaving on Jim's 18th birthday.
After that, Jim stopped all visitations. As long as Jim wasn't a danger to anyone, the government couldn't force him to train. So Jim stuck to the isolated farmhouse, and only went into town when he needed food. He went to a bar a few times and got laid, but the thought occurred to him that these women and men may not actually be consenting. He influenced their emotions to mirror his. What if they really wouldn't want to sleep with him? His hook-ups plummeted right to zero.
After that, Jim kept to himself. He tried some drugs that limited the activation of neurons in his hyper-specialized limbic system, but that just lessened all his emotions, leaving him lethargic and completely apathetic to anything.
Jim had pretty much given up until he got a phone call from a certain captain at the Starfleet Mutant Academy.
Jim looked at his surroundings for what seemed to be the millionth time. It was a small single in the top floor of Starfleet's psychic student dormitory in San Francisco. Pike had said they needed to prepare a special room for him. If he knew they were going to remodel an apartment for him, he would have insisted on giving some input. It was drab and miserable, sparsely decorated with a few pieces of furniture. They didn't even bother to cover the shiny metal imported from Betazed that made up the walls, floor and ceiling. It blocked all telepathy from going in and out. It was used on Betazed to help any Betazoid who experienced mental trauma and needed a mentally quiet location. Jim's projections had apparently been so strong, they needed to double the thickness from one inch to two.
At least they brought some rugs in, but the blank space was starting to grate on Jim's nerves. They couldn't even put windows in; they installed vidscreens to simulate a view to the outside would. Vidscreens were high definition, but it was obvious it wasn't a window when you looked at it from an angle. And even if you did look at it head-on, you couldn't feel the sun on your face.
And it was too quiet, even when he turned music on to the highest volume. It was a strange, dark mass in the back of his mind. Jim felt as if he was being subjected to a sensory deprivation experiment, trapped in this room by himself with four pieces of furniture and a fake window. Maybe he was too used to little noises he didn't originally notice, the background noise of cars passing on the street, shuttles passing overhead, a couple yelling at each other, fucking birds.
Not for the first time, Jim wished his mental powers extended to being able to throw things with his mind.
Jim let out a frustrated yell at the top of his lungs that didn't even have the decency to echo off the walls. He'd been locked in this room for 29 days. All of his requests to leave were denied. It only took five days for Jim to try and escape and another five to realize that there was no way out. He couldn't even hack his way out with such a basic comm.
When he heard the buzzer, Jim got up from his sprawl on the couch and went to the comm at his desk. Seeing the blank screen, he wondered if he was going crazy. When the buzz happened again, he realized it was the door. Jim blinked in surprise. He never had an actual visitor since they’d put him in this room. That was the point of these walls, to keep Jim in here and everyone else out.
His initial excitement at having actual human contact and hoping it was a pretty yeoman, was quickly crushed by annoyance. Jim couldn't even open the door himself. Why the hell was there a buzzer?
He stomped over to the wall comm and pushed the button with as much aggression as he could; his sanity was relying on small victories at this point. "Yeah?"
"Are you decent?" the voice of Captain Pike came through.
"Would you rather I not be?" Jim asked. He blinked. He must be sex starved if he was already started flirting with the first person he'd talked to in days.
"Kirk."
Jim sighed. "Yeah, but, uh, give me a second."
"Take whatever time you need," Pike said.
Jim fought a surge of annoyance at softened tone. He depressed the button, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was a trick the Betazoids tried to teach him. Needless to say, Jim wasn't one for meditation. If he tried too long, he just got more agitated, but if he just wanted to try and calm himself down, it normally worked well enough. He used to imagine himself on his bike, but being cooped up just caused the idea to irritate him. Sitting on a porch swing would have to do.
When Jim felt he was calm, or at least calm enough, he pressed the button again. "Alright, come in."
It took a little while for Pike to enter, as there was basically an airlock so his emotions wouldn't escape through the open door. Pike walked in with a military posture. He stopped and glanced around the room. There wasn't much there so it didn't take long. His eyes finally landed on Jim, a small smile on his face. "How are you holding up, kid?" Pike's amused face shifted into a scowl, his brows pulling together and showing the annoyance Jim felt.
The effect Jim had on people still amazed him. Since he hadn't actually been around many people after he became aware of his mutation, he didn't actually see much of what his powers did to others.
Luckily his awe also affected Pike and the wrinkles between his brow smoothed out and his smile reappeared. "I'll see what I can do about getting you some more things to fill in the space. Starfleet doesn't issue game systems, but I'm sure you can modify an old simulator to amuse yourself." Pike let out a small sigh.
"Yeah, that would be great." Jim said, though he lacked enthusiasm. "I'm going fucking crazy in here. If you guys can't figure anything out soon, I'm just going to go back to Iowa."
"I may have come up with a solution to your problem," Pike said, his mouth forming into a frown and his eyes moving as if he was stopping himself from rolling them.
"Forgive me for being skeptical."
"You're right. It doesn't have a high probability of working," Pike said before stopping and seeming to mentally shake Jim's pessimism away. "It's definitely unique, but very simple. Honestly, I don't know why it hasn't been tried before, or why it took me so long to consider." Pike raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
"Oh yeah? And what's this perfect solution?"
Pike hesitated, suddenly unsure of his plan. He put a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows drawing together in frustration that may have been Jim's or his own. Pike was obviously not a man who was used to second-guessing himself. Jim wished he could give Pike his confidence back, but Jim was just too doubtful. It only took a moment for Pike to steel his conviction once more. "A Vulcan." Pike’s eyes widened in shock.
"A Vulcan? What good would a Vulcan do me? They don't feel emotions."
Pike shook his head. He turned and started a slow pace, as if not standing so close to Jim would lessen the effect on him. "Not for a lack of having them," he corrected. "They learn to control and suppress their emotions so they don't affect their thinking. Maybe some of their techniques can help you. The Betazoid were an obvious choice, but they don't actually excel in controlling their emotions; their emotions are as dynamic as that of a human. Vulcans on the other hand specialize in mental discipline." Pike's lips flattened to a thin line.
Jim had to admit that made sense. Of course Betazoids and other mutant empaths made sense too. "This is the last chance, Pike. I'm tired of being stuck in this damn room."
"It hasn't been that long," Pike snapped. "You have to give us time. You're a special case." His face contorted in anger.
"I haven't hurt anyone but I'm fucking imprisoned in this room! I've only been talking to people through the comms. I might as well just go home for all the good this has done me."
"There isn't a quick fix for this Kirk," Pike shouted back. "You have to give us time--" His lips twisted into a snarl.
"And until then, I'll just be trapped in here until you end up shooting me into fucking space and landing me on some enemy planet, hoping my emotions will start a civil war--"
Pike gave a loud frustrated sound and slammed the side of his fist against a metal wall. A button on his cuff let out a loud ting that caused both of them to startle in surprise. They stared at each other for a long moment before Jim looked away with a groan and walked over to the stiff couch, slumping down on it in defeat. It had barely been five minutes and it was already happening again.
Pike's expression mirrored his tired frustration. "I know this is hard, Jim. This isn't just about training another officer to go out into space; it's about your quality of life. You can't live like this without completely ostracizing yourself from society."
Jim sighed. "I'll try working with a Vulcan, if you can even find one that'll help."
Pike gave a tired smile. "I wouldn't worry about that."
Jim was quiet for a moment before finally speaking. "I'll try it, but I wasn't joking when I said this was it. When this doesn't work, I'm going back to the farmhouse."
"If it doesn't work, Jim," Pike said while sounding unsure himself. "Vulcans look at emotions in a completely different way. Maybe this is what you need."
Jim and Pike both looked skeptical, but Jim nodded in agreement.
=//\\=
Jim got the call three days later. He was almost grateful for it. Pike had followed through on his promise to get Jim a small portable simulator, but there was only so many warbirds he could blow up before he got bored.
He didn't bother to change out of his ratty gray hoodie before sitting down and accepting the call.
The face that greeted him looked pretty much exactly as he expected it to. Sharp features, black bowl cut hair, dark eyes, pointed ears and a completely blank expression. What he hadn't been expecting was for him to be wearing a Starfleet instructor's uniform.
The Vulcan took in Jim's attire, but whether he disapproved of his clothing or not, he of course did not show it. "I am Spock. Am I speaking to James Tiberius Kirk?"
"One and only," Jim said, a cocky grin sliding into place. "I didn't know there were any Vulcans here at the academy. I thought it was mutants only."
Spock paused for a moment, as if considering whether he should answer. "My mother was human. It was her genes that gave me my mutation."
Jim's eyebrows raised in surprise. He hadn't been aware that humans and Vulcans were sexually compatible. "What's your power?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "It is not related to telepathy."
"What is it?"
"As it is not related to the purpose of our meeting, I do not think it is relevant."
Jim had heard Vulcans were private, but this was crazy. It was as common a question as asking someone what they did for a living. "I'd still like to know."
Spock's lip's tightened slightly, as if he was preventing himself from frowning. "I am able to alter the composition of my epidermis to a strong metallic state."
"Oh, you can turn your skin into metal?" Jim asked. Now that Spock mentioned it, his skin did have a bit of a shiny gray tint to it.
"I believe that is what I just stated."
Jim couldn't help but smile, the first real one he'd had in a long time. "In not so many words, yes."
"Captain Pike has briefed me on your mutation," Spock said, effectively getting back to the topic at hand. "However, I would like you to describe your mutation in your own words."
Jim let out a heavy breath and leaned back in his chair. It was all in his file, so he hadn't explained it in a long time. He had to think about it a moment. His eyes drifted to the fake window that showed a drizzly day. Jim spared a second to wonder if that’s what the weather was actually like outside. "I project my emotions onto anyone close by, forcing them to feel how I feel."
"On your file, it says the range of your ability is ten meters. Do you believe this is accurate?"
Jim frowned. "I think it's strongest within ten meters, but I still affect people within 15 meters probably.”
Spock looked down, probably making a note of it. "That is quite an impressive range. The average range for most mutant empaths is only 3 meters. Many more require touch."
Jim shrugged. He'd heard it all before.
"Have you been able to control your abilities in any way? Perhaps in the emotions you project or to whom you project?"
Jim could already feel that old frustration coming back. "No. I've never been able to control any of it. I've tried figuring it out on my own but I don't get anywhere and anyone who tries to help me, they usually just receive my anger, and it's a lucky break when it doesn't result in blows."
Usually, people only looked sympathetic when he told them about it. Maybe it was an empathy thing. Spock on the other hand just looked intrigued, like Jim was an experiment that was disproving his hypotheses. It would have been insulting if Jim didn't find it amusing, and maybe a little bit endearing.
"Fascinating," Spock said with a tilt of his head. "My schedule is clear this evening if you wish to meet in person."
"Already?" Jim asked.
"Unless that is a problem, yes. Though I must warn you, it is probable that I will want to perform a Vulcan mind meld on you at some point, to gain a clearer picture of your mental state." Spock almost sounded enthusiastic as he typed on the side of his screen. "I will have some information on Vulcan telepathy and technique sent to you. I suggest you read it, as it will give you a clearer idea as to what I will be attempting to do. I ask that you do not distribute any of the information given, as it is information rarely given to outsiders."
Jim blinked, surprised the guy was already shoving Vulcan secrets at him. He started to wonder if Vulcans could send emotions electronically, because his enthusiasm felt rather contagious. "Yeah, sure. Not like I have anyone to share it with anyway."
"Would twenty hundred hours suffice?"
"Uh, sure. That works."
Spock gave a nod. "I will see you then," he said before breaking the connection.
Jim stared at the screen and wondered what exactly he got himself into.
Jim spent most of his time before 8 o'clock reading the papers Spock had sent him. The first articles were already things that Jim had read, about a Vulcan's telepathy centering on touch, extending weakly into projection as well. The others were more informative but also confusing and just a little bit daunting. Vulcans apparently consciously controlled most of their body systems, things that the human body regulated through their autonomic nervous system. Of course, as interesting as it all was, Jim didn't think he could do any of it. Their techniques called for a much higher amount of body control than he would be able to perform.
It was exactly 2000 when the buzzer went off. Jim sighed at the door before getting up. He didn't know why he suddenly felt excited, like this was going to fix him when no one else ever came close.
As soon as the door opened, Spock looked as if he had been slapped with it. His eyes widened in surprise before tightening. He pressed finger tips against his temple.
Jim took a step back, not that it would help. "Are you... Are you okay?"
Spock's eyes unfocused, as if looking inward. For a moment Jim wondered if Spock heard him. "Yes. However, I had not anticipated your abilities to be so invasive. An error on my part for not predicting it would be stronger."
Jim almost felt disappointed. Not that he thought Spock could actually fix him, but he had hoped probably a little more than he should have. "Maybe you should go?"
"No. I will merely need to strengthen my mental shields. I have not had to do so in some time, so our lessons may be short until I grow accustomed to the strain."
"Would you like to come in to do that, or...?"
This time Spock did not answer, and Jim figured he was happy where he was. It took ten minutes of stillness. Jim was almost going crazier than when he was alone. Spock finally blinked and lowered his hand. "I should not require the same amount of time when next we meet. I will meditate to prepare before coming here."
"Sure," Jim agreed easily. "So, you're cool now? Not going to pass out or anything?"
"No, I will not."
Jim gestured towards the couch and Spock inclined his head before walking over to sit down. If Jim thought Pike's back was straight, he had nothing on this guy. "I've got beer and water."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not believe alcohol would be appropriate at this time. Water, please."
Jim fought back a smile as he filled to glasses of water in the kitchen area and returned. He set them on the coffee table and sat on the couch himself, mindful to keep his distance.
"Have you read the material I sent you?" Spock asked, and Jim nodded. "Very good. Would you be opposed to allowing me to touch your mind?"
Jim jerked back in surprise. "What? Now? Already?"
Spock gave a short nod. "A mind meld is never proposed lightly. I had planned on attempting to gauge your mind without touch; however, it is clear that your projection is too powerful to allow me to do so."
Jim frowned. He didn't like the idea of people touching his mind. Then again, he'd already been touching other people with his mind since before he could remember. What was the difference in it happening more directly? "Yeah, alright."
Spock leaned forward. Long fingers hovered over the side of Jim's face. Jim couldn't help but strain his eyes on the blurry fingers too close to focus on. "I will not delve too deeply into your mind. If there is anything you do not want me to see, than do not think of it."
Jim huffed a laugh. "When you tell a human to not think of something, that's going to be the exact thing they think about.”
Jim could have sworn he saw the corner of Spock's mouth twitch up, but it was probably just a trick of his eyes. "I suggest you close your eyes."
Jim looked forward and closed his eyes. For a long moment nothing happened, and he had to fight back the panic from the vulnerability. He jumped slightly when Spock's fingers finally touched his face. Almost immediately something in Jim's mind shifted. He let out a tiny noise, almost a groan. That strange void in the back of his mind was gone, replaced with something he couldn't describe.
Spock entered his mind gently. It felt strange, slightly invasive but it didn't hurt exactly. He felt/sensed/saw Spock float in his mind, a darkness that blocked out the dancing of the different lights of his emotions and thoughts.
Jim startled when he felt Spock's interest in the scene. It was strange, feeling someone else's emotions. Jim didn't know how he knew the feeling wasn't his, but he was completely certain of the fact. Jim observed Spock as he rummaged around Jim's mind, touching almost anything he could like a strange spider feeling along the threads of the web of his mind, searching for the vibrations that would lead to its prey.
Jim didn't know if Spock found what he was looking for or not. Either way Spock retreated from Jim's mind, and soon the void returned. Jim winced at the feeling and opened his eyes. It seemed darker in the room and he felt tired.
"An enlightening experience, quite literally."
Jim jumped and looked over. He'd somehow already forgotten Spock was there. Jim scrubbed his face with his hand. "What time is it?"
"Fourteen minutes to midnight."
"Damn," Jim muttered. "I didn't think we were in my mind that long."
"Time as the mind perceives it is very fluid." Spock took a sip of water from his glass.
Suddenly realizing how thirsty he was, Jim chugged his own water down. He coughed. "So, I guess you learned a lot?"
"Yes, although it took some time. I am not accustomed to seeing thoughts with so much emotion attached to them. It took some time for me to be able to translate them."
"Did you find what you wanted?"
"Indeed. I managed to discover how your mind works."
Jim frowned. "How it works?"
"Yes. It would be ineffective to expect you to control your mind in a way that would be uncomfortable for you." Spock stood. "It is late, and you require rest. Perhaps we can continue this later this week."
Jim nodded and showed Spock out. His head didn't hurt, but he felt tired in a way he had never experienced before. Mentally tired, like he'd actually used all of his ability's energy. He'd heard of such a thing but had never actually felt it. It actually felt satisfying, like a hard day's work refitting his cycle.
The void was back, but it didn't bother Jim as much, and he was able to get his first full night's rest since he got there.
=//\\=
"You were aware of my movements in your mind. You watched me."
They were sitting on the couch again. The window behind them showed a mellow morning, light but cloudy. Jim's mind was fuzzy with sleep, which he thought was counterproductive. Spock looked as fresh and awake as if he'd been sleeping for the past four days.
Spock was looked at him expectantly. Jim blinked. "Did you ask something?"
Spock quirked an eyebrow. "You were aware of my movements in your mind. Do you remember sensing me?"
Jim stretched, and noticed Spock's eyes watching him. Normally he'd flirt, but Spock was probably just studying his anatomy in a scientific and boring way. "Yeah, I remember."
"You did not merely feel my presence; you saw it, picturing myself as a spider walking on the neurons of your mind."
"Yeah, although that's pretty creepy now that you say it out loud." Jim resisted the urge to scratch the imaginary inch inside his brain caused by the thought of spiders in it.
"I believe that is the key to your ability to control your abilities."
Jim jerked back. "What, spiders?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "No. Visualization. In your mind, you pictured your emotions to be sparks of light. Perhaps if you visualize closing those lights off behind a shade, you will no longer project."
Jim considered it for a moment. "My brain kind of looked like Christmas lights. Maybe if I just imagine unplugging them. Or would that leave me comatose or something?"
The corner of Spock's mouth definitely twitched up that time. "I doubt you have the control to mentally commit suicide, though you may want to shy away from completely turning them off."
"Shades, right." Jim leaned forward. It definitely wasn't something he had tried before. "So, do we meld again?"
"That should not be necessary. I will be able to gradually lower my shields, allowing me to check your progress."
Jim nodded. "Should I start now?"
"Whenever you are ready," Spock agreed.
Jim let out a long breath before closing his eyes. For a while he didn't see anything but black.
Visualization. So he just had to picture lights right? An image of a brain made of twisted threads came to mind. It was mostly yellow. It floated in the middle of his headspace. The lights were constantly moving and were bright, somehow lighting the void though there was nothing for it to lighten. But there was something else too. A tiny pin prick of light that he could barely see, but he was sure was there. It looked like a star. He didn't know how he knew, but it was Spock with his shields barely lowered.
Jim turned his attention back to this treaded brain which took on the look of both a brain and a planet, but it was hard to see where one image began and the other stopped. A shade probably wouldn't work on it, but maybe a blanket? A dark blue blanket materialized out of nowhere and enveloped the brain-planet, making the dark space seem even darker.
He held the image in his mind before slowly opening his eyes. He was looking at both Spock and the space he had created. Spock tilted his head, and the small light brightened. Jim felt awe and saw the white point begin to color yellow. The light suddenly blinked out, and when Jim looked back to his planet, he saw that the blanket had slipped off.
"Very impressive for your first try," Spock said, drawing Jim out of his head, until he was only aware of Spock and his gray apartment.
"I don't think my visual was really good though." Jim took a sip of his coffee, finding it surprisingly cold. He would need to learn how to tell time better when he was in his mind.
"What did you picture?"
"A lit up brain that I wrapped in a blanket," Jim said sheepishly.
"Perhaps not the most efficient visual, no. However, it did prove that you were able to better control your abilities this way. I was able to lower my shields much further before I started to become effected."
"The blanket slipped off," Jim muttered. "I could actually tell when you were being affected."
Spock's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Indeed?"
"Yeah," Jim said slowly, not sure why this seemed to shocked Spock. "I could see you. You were this little point of white light. It started to get colored yellow right before you shut your shields.”
"You saw me shut my shields as well?"
"And when you had started to open them."
Spock actually looked rather impressed. “It appears your mutation is not only the projection of emotions but also the perception of the emotions of others."
Jim blinked. "I don't think I've been able to do that before though."
"I believe you have," Spock corrected. "Your file describes the confrontations you always seemed to enter into with others. I postulate that when you became frustrated with your situation, you projected anger onto others. You would then sense their anger and became angrier yourself, in turn making them angrier."
Jim was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."
"We will need to make observations once you gain more control of your projecting abilities."
Jim winced. "How long do you think it's going to take?" He didn't want to stay in this apartment one more minute than he had to. Of course Spock was actually kind of making it bearable.
Spock's voice took on a gentler tone. "It will take time, Jim. You will need to find a visual you are more comfortable with."
"This isn't really effective if I have to stop and picture all of this."
"I would not worry about this. Vulcan children begin to control their minds in much the same way."
Jim smirked. "So, what? I'm on the Vulcan equivalent of grade 1 telepathy?"
"If you wish to see it that way."
Jim laughed, his mood brightening considerably. Maybe he hadn't really done a whole lot in the scheme of things, but he'd certainly accomplished more in a few hours with Spock than he had after years of others. "Spock, I'm... Thanks. I really didn't think I'd ever be able to control it, like I was a failed mutation."
Spock inclined his head. "I am merely grateful that I can aide you."
=//\\=
Jim shoveled a few spoonfuls of red curry and rice before swallowing and watching Spock, who ate is vegetarian miso soup like he was dining with the queen. Jim was actually looking forward to the times when Spock would come over, the first real contact he'd had with someone since his powers manifested. It had been a few weeks since their first real lesson, and Jim had managed to hone down his visualization to a bright planet that he hid inside a cookie jar, of all things. Jim was getting better at doing it quickly too. He still couldn't tell time, though.
At this point, Jim was able to limit his projections most of the day. At that moment, Spock's shields were lowered to the strength he usually used when he was out in public.
"So, Vulcans don't have mutations, do they?"
Spock's spoon paused on its way down to the soup before continuing the movement. "No, as a species, they do not."
"You must have been real popular, being the only one with any special powers."
"I would not say that," Spock said slowly. "On Vulcan, one is expected to conform to society. I am a Vulcan in the way that I act; however, everyone else only saw me as a hybrid. A mutant hybrid."
Jim could suddenly hear everything that Spock wasn't saying. Taunts and jibes and shunning. No wonder Spock had been so naturally reluctant to tell Jim what his mutation was. "Can I see it?"
Spock glanced over. With the lowered shields, Jim sensed some of his feelings. They were very subdued, and difficult to see sometimes, but they were there. At that moment, Jim had felt Spock's spike of fear. "I do not frequently use it."
"I'm human, Spock," Jim said with a cocky grin, trying to put Spock at ease. "I'm just going to think it's awesome."
Spock hesitated before closing his eyes. His skin shifted and gray liquid that almost looked like mercury began to cover his skin, hair and clothing. Spock opened his eyes to show to smooth metal. When it was complete, Spock almost looked like a steel statue sitting on Jim's couch. He was almost as still as one, too, as if expecting Jim to recoil away at any moment.
Jim brought his hand up, but managed to stop himself before he actually touched him. Considering Spock was a statue, it was hard to tell if he tensed at Jim's hand or not. "Can I?" Jim asked.
Spock still didn't move, and Jim started to wonder if Spock's mutation turned his skin into metal what wouldn't let him move.
"If you wish," Spock suddenly spoke, his voice strangely metallic. "My telepathic abilities are greatly lessened in this form."
He grinned before stroking his fingers on Spock's shoulder and down his chest. The metal was smooth and pleasantly warm to the touch. Jim pressed his palm against the metal. It was probably a more intimate touch than he should do, but he couldn't stop himself. He moved it down to Spock's side. He blinked in surprise. "Your heart is beating through the metal."
Spock moved his hand and placed it on Jim's, surprisingly gentle for the physical power Jim was sure Spock possessed.
Jim didn't know how Vulcans couldn't admire this form. Spock's facial expression was completely frozen, and Jim could barely sense his presence.
"Perhaps tomorrow, we can test your abilities outside of this room."
Jim's jaw dropped. "Do you think I'm ready?"
"I believe you are. You may still affect others but not to the extent you did before. I will monitor you."
The thought that he could finally leave this room was overwhelming, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and pressing his lips against Spock's. When he pulled back, Spock's metal was gone. Jim would have been disappointed, but he could see a green flush on Spock's cheeks and his small pulse of light was back, showing a lovely pink.
"Can we go now?" Jim asked.
Spock glanced over to the artificial window, showing the last of the daylight. "As you wish."
Jim all but dragged Spock to the comm by his wrist. Spock’s eyes widened in surprise, but he did not comment as Jim pressed the button to contact Starfleet command. All it took was Spock’s authorization for the doors to open and reveal the airlock. They both walked in and waited for the other door to close.
Jim reached forward to open the outer door that would lead to his freedom, but he hesitated. What if he wasn’t ready? His control still wasn’t perfect yet, and a lot of times he would slip. What if he became so frustrated he started a riot in the middle of the city?
Jim felt Spock move to clasp their hands together. “I will be here for you. Take a moment to calm yourself.”
Jim did as he was told, taking a deep breath and watched as this bright planet that was an erratic mixture of oranges and blues was concealed once more in its vessel. Jim paused for a minute, as if afraid to back out again. He noticed Spock’s star in the distance, suddenly quite bright and shining confidence on him.
Jim opened his eyes and, with a glance at Spock, opened the door.