Fic:: TOS/MU :: Absolution
Title: Absolution
Words: 2824
Rating: R/NC-17 for torture
Pairing/Characters: Number One, James Kirk, past Pike/Number One
Summary: Number One carries out her last duty.
Warnings: Mirror Universe. There's not much to this that isn't violence, or shady physiological issues. Not so sane Number One. Character Death.
Highlight for detailed warnings:
paralyzation, acid disfigurement, strangulation,
Notes: Beta byemmyette and thank you to boosette for finally getting me to finish this. It's been 3/4 done October...
She had waited years for this. All the hatred of the man before her that she'd packed away beneath her cool exterior for years was tingling with the knowledge of how close she was to her revenge. She packed down the swell one last time, anticipating letting it free but knowing she just needed to wait a little longer.
It had been eight years since James T. Kirk had killed Captain Christopher R. Pike. Eight years of biding her time. Eight years she'd spent without her captain just because Kirk was another power hungry bastard with no finesse. Incapable of taking power without shedding good blood. Number One was a patient woman and for what Kirk had done she would have waited eons. The time didn't matter as long as at the end she was the one to wrench the life from his body.
Kirk had arranged their meeting. While Number One had opportunities to call one herself, what she wanted was for Kirk to come to her. He wasn't worth wasting her resources on. Eventually he would come to her and she knew it. She had risen to admiral a year previously and he was most likely looking for a backer in his own quest. As the only female admiral he would see her as a weakness. He should realize a position like admiral did not come to anyone by lying on your back, no matter what the rumors said. One had fought and killed for the title and honor and he would have done well to remember that. Of course, Kirk also seemed to think eight years was enough for her to forget the 12 years she spent at Pike's side and in his bed. Kirk was either a forgetful fool or severely underestimated her. Either suited her purposes just fine, as long as he showed up.
She sat at attention and attempted to read a report as she waited. Her glossy black nails tapped against the desk steadily. A lazy but consistent sound that echoed through the office. It was the only sign of her emotions. The raging maelstrom inside her just waiting for it's chance. He was a minute late. She has ways of dealing with people who were late. Ways that once word got around about Captain One had run a very timely and efficient ship. She glared at the door.
He walked into her office four minutes late and as if he owned it. His swagger and bravado did not surprise her, she'd seen them before and would see them again in the next eager child playing at greatness. She ushered him to sit and Kirk went straight for his target. As expected he wanted his next title. As he spoke and negotiated the terms of her support she quickly realized that he obviously thought nothing of her bond with Pike. The way he spoke to her and expected her to go along was shockingly blasé. She doubted he thought much of anyone's bonds. She knew his record as well as anyone, better even, he was a lone wolf, going through officers and women like a petulant child with a limitless toy box. He may be leading the flagship but he wasn't irreplaceable. Not by a long shot.
The game of negotiating was easy to play, she'd been through it too many times before. She volleyed his words fiercely and played hard to get and then as his guard was lowered by the familiarity of the repartee she stepped up the game. He moved to open flirtation and flattery. Achingly predictable. She has to hold back a scoff at how easily she's playing him. When he strides over to run his hands (his filthy murdering hands) over her shoulders and whisper in her ear she plays along for a moment. One moment, just enough so she can inject him with the hypo she's been fingering since before he walked in.
Kirk cries out in anger and lunges for her as she rises from her chair and twists gracefully out of his reach. The paralytic is fast acting and he doesn't make it more than 3 steps before he's stumbling and falling to the ground. "You bitch!" is all he can shout at her before it's just garbled sounds. And then silence. Beautiful silence.
Number One stands patiently as he goes completely still, waiting dutifully before she approaches. Watching him go prone is delicious, he is hers now and the fire in her gut leaps with joy to have him at her mercy. When she approaches his collapsed form she pushes her chair out of the way and arranges him on the ground flat on his back.
"Enjoying this Kirk?" She doesn't call him captain, that's not a title for anyone but Pike in her mind. It's a title Kirk never deserved in the first place. He might as well still be a cadet as far as she's concerned. She holds the now empty hypo before his eyes, "This is one of your friend McCoy's. Handy little thing. Keeps the feeling through the paralysis much better than anything else. I'm sure you've used it yourself before, you must know how perfect it is."
His eyes, the only things he can move, are fixed on her with a deep glare of hatred. Number One just smiles at him. There's a vicious sort of glee filling her as she toys with him, "Now Kirk, don't be like that. Everything comes around. You've killed a lot of people to get where you are. You had a good run. But you had to know this day would come even if you didn't know it'd be me." She pats his cheek patronizingly as she moves to straddle and sit on his chest.
"How could you have known I'd hold a grudge?" she takes a hold of his cheek and plays with him. Her finger tracing over the planes of his face. "I was a system away when you killed him after all. Who cares about an ex first officer who's pulled their own ship? They don't care about old bosses," she said it all casually, taunting, playing coy with him.
"You were too young to know what was going on. You didn't know what we were planning." She leans in closer, her words taking on the rage she felt, "You didn't know we were going to take the empire," with the admission she lets the anger take over fully. She dug her nails into his jaw before changing her grip to hold him fiercely by the hair and if he's been able to he'd have cried out from the force she used to yank his head back. She used one perfectly manicured fingernail to scratch down his cheek and draw blood as she continued, " You crossed the wrong woman Kirk, I don't forgive, and you ruined all my plans when you killed Captain Pike," she pulled his head up and then slammed it into the floor. "You ruined everything," slam "Do you realize," slam "Who," slam "You," slam "Killed?" she all but shouted. Her breath was quickening as she let out the rage she felt for this cocksure little bastard who'd stolen everything from her. This child. This idiot blood drunk pretty boy. Her heart sings in her chest as blood and anger flows through her. She can feel Pike watching her. Asking for revenge she's all too eager to give him at long last.
She releases Kirk's hair in disgust as she looks him over. "Christopher Pike was a great man, he deserved a better death and he sure as hell deserved a better successor," she spat the words out before standing to retrieve her tools.
One took her time and steadied herself as she checked the kit before returning to the floor. She didn't look at him. The worthless child who'd ruined everything. She needed to focus. She wasn't going to take too long but she didn't want to be so far gone she couldn't enjoy and remember each moment of his death. So close, she thought to herself. She would steady herself for Pike. For her captain, she would serve him again through this. She would be his first again with this.
She smiled and turned back to Kirk.
She knelt on the floor and opened the small case and picked out a pair of scissors, "If you hadn't realized yet I want you to know that I am going to kill you," her voice rang clear and cool now with her head on straight again and focused on the mission. She snaps the scissors in front of his face, taunting him before going to his chest. Number One cuts each adornment of his tunic and showed them to him before putting them in a small metal container. "You don't deserve to be part of the Terran Empire. You're a mad dog that needs to be put down. You are unworthy of your station. There is a difference between ruthless and thoughtless," she lectures as she takes the marks of his service. The achievements he brags so thoroughly about. When Number One has finished her work she burns them and dumps the still hot ash over his face.
She reaches into the kit and pulled out a length of cord. Tying his hands together over his head, she moves to straddle him again. She settles and watches as they started to lose circulation. He'd be struggling if he could and part of her wishes she could allow the fight. But he's reckless and she's not as young as she used to be. There's no reason to take extra risks. Even if she misses the fight.
She can hear Christopher in her head like it was yesterday.
"You like when they struggle. You live for it. My vicious One," he whispers in her ear and she can almost feel his breath. She can feel his hands on her. Leading her, guiding her. For a moment he's alive again next to her.
When Kirk's hands pale she snaps back to reality and speaks to him, "Not too long, I've already waited a long time to kill you after all." Number One considers just killing him already, her disgust of this boy urging her to just snuff him out like an insect. But the rage, her memories of Pike, the wounds Kirk caused, remind her to temper herself.
"Steady, One," Christopher's voice echos in her head.
She looks down at Kirk. She could draw this out as long as she wanted but it's not going to be any better than moving too quickly. She flicks the thoughts away and listens to Pike. She focuses again. Nothing she does will bring her captain back. She won't wake up tomorrow in his bed, in his arms. When Kirk is dead the only thing that'll change is that she'll have her revenge. One more animal put down.
She brushes some of the now cool ash from his face as she decides her next move. There are small burns and it satisfies her to see the damage to his handsome face. She just stares and considers him for awhile, eyes roaming across his face. His neck. He's furious and in pain and she can tell he's cursing her internally. She just smirks, enjoying his helplessness. She reaches into the kit again.
Her hand pulls out a vial, gloves, and cloth. She hold the small bottle before his face, "Can you read the name? I'm going to ruin that pretty face of yours so they can't even show it at your funeral."
His eyes widen a fraction at her words. She lays the cloth on her thigh, dons the gloves and then unscrews the lid and fills the eyedropper. She carefully taps the excess back into the bottle and dangles the dropper threateningly over his eyes.
"Do you know how it feels? Or have you just heard? I do hope I'm the first to use it on you. You've been a superior for so long, maybe you've forgotten. But you know it's use of course. A few drops of this will get anyone talking," she says airily. She makes sure to look straight in his eyes as she speaks again, "But I don't want you to talk."
One grins wickedly as she moves the dropper away from his face and instead moves to his forearm. She looks down at him briefly. "Here's a taste of what's to come," she says as she carefully squeezes just one drop onto the bare flesh. It sizzles and burns through the skin on contact and she smiles as she waits for it to fizzle out.
"There, not so bad," she coos, griping his face like a child and digging her nails in enough to break the skin. She releases him with a short laugh and brings the dropper to his cheek. She lets one perfect drop fall on the apple of each cheek and lets it burn. His eyes are almost rolling back in pain. Good, is all she can think.
She puts one drop on his nose, another two at his temples and one just brushing the outer corner of his left eye. She enjoys that one the most. Number One carefully replaces the eyedropper and takes the cloth in one hand. Once prepared she takes the bottle and she carefully pours some of the liquid on the cloth before wiping it across his face. She moves temple to chin in a decisive movement. She avoids his eye, just scrapping the outside of his face and jawline instead. Again she sits back and just watches his face turn red and pucker and blister and bleed as the acid foams and works at him. When it's done she give him some time to recover before doing the other side. She wants to ensure he really feels this.
"I'll let you die after this. I promise," she whispers just before wiping the cloth over his face a second time.
"Well, after this one," she allows herself the indulgence. His face still looks too good anyway. The third stroke is over his forehead.
"One..." She hears his voice warn, like she's done something bad. Her blood cools and her stomach tightens instinctively. She must stay in control. For him, she wasn't allowed to lose control for anyone but Captain Pike. She must control herself. 'Yes Sir' she thinks obediently.
"Alright, I mean it now. I'll kill you soon," she promises both to Kirk and to Pike. She wipes the cloth across Kirk's lips and they burn raw.
As this last pass works she returns the bottle and cloth to the kit and closes it. She takes off the gloves and sets them aside. She collects herself and has to fight the chill, she doesn't want to displease him, only honor her Captain.
"All done," she announces as she snaps back to her task. She takes moment to admire her handiwork. His eyes are mostly intact and not much else isn't covered with burns and blisters and blood. The sight pleases her. "Now, Kirk...it's time," his eyes are unfocused with pain but they stay with her as best he can manage.
She holds his delirious gaze and reaches down to grasp his neck with her pristine hands. She secures her grip and begins to squeeze. Satisfaction rising in her chest as his eyes bulge the slightest bit. She tightens her hands and pushes down to choke him further. Her eyes watch his face as his body struggles internally. She doesn't say any more words to taunt him. She just takes in the sight of his death. The slow drain of color and the fall for his pulse. His heart desperately thrums underneath her and it makes her smile wickedly. Everything is trying to get a breath, to live, but it's no use. Her hold is firm and the paralytic makes it impossible. Only when she can't feel his heart or his breath and his face is tinted blue does she remove her hands. There are marks on his neck and a few points where she's drawn blood with her nails.
She takes a deep breathe to steady the swelling triumph in her chest and stands. She carefully places her kit away and throws the hypo and the cloth in the recycler. Next she goes to her closet and wheels out a large silver case. She opens the latches and lifts the lid. A quick final appraisal and then she starts to drag Kirk's dead body into it. It takes some effort but it's nothing she can't handle. She closes the case on him and walks out the door with the cart.
She tosses the case into the bay that night. She had killed James T. Kirk, but had no intention of claiming her victory. She had little thirst for power without her Captain by her side.
Words: 2824
Rating: R/NC-17 for torture
Pairing/Characters: Number One, James Kirk, past Pike/Number One
Summary: Number One carries out her last duty.
Warnings: Mirror Universe. There's not much to this that isn't violence, or shady physiological issues. Not so sane Number One. Character Death.
Highlight for detailed warnings:
paralyzation, acid disfigurement, strangulation,
Notes: Beta byemmyette and thank you to boosette for finally getting me to finish this. It's been 3/4 done October...
She had waited years for this. All the hatred of the man before her that she'd packed away beneath her cool exterior for years was tingling with the knowledge of how close she was to her revenge. She packed down the swell one last time, anticipating letting it free but knowing she just needed to wait a little longer.
It had been eight years since James T. Kirk had killed Captain Christopher R. Pike. Eight years of biding her time. Eight years she'd spent without her captain just because Kirk was another power hungry bastard with no finesse. Incapable of taking power without shedding good blood. Number One was a patient woman and for what Kirk had done she would have waited eons. The time didn't matter as long as at the end she was the one to wrench the life from his body.
Kirk had arranged their meeting. While Number One had opportunities to call one herself, what she wanted was for Kirk to come to her. He wasn't worth wasting her resources on. Eventually he would come to her and she knew it. She had risen to admiral a year previously and he was most likely looking for a backer in his own quest. As the only female admiral he would see her as a weakness. He should realize a position like admiral did not come to anyone by lying on your back, no matter what the rumors said. One had fought and killed for the title and honor and he would have done well to remember that. Of course, Kirk also seemed to think eight years was enough for her to forget the 12 years she spent at Pike's side and in his bed. Kirk was either a forgetful fool or severely underestimated her. Either suited her purposes just fine, as long as he showed up.
She sat at attention and attempted to read a report as she waited. Her glossy black nails tapped against the desk steadily. A lazy but consistent sound that echoed through the office. It was the only sign of her emotions. The raging maelstrom inside her just waiting for it's chance. He was a minute late. She has ways of dealing with people who were late. Ways that once word got around about Captain One had run a very timely and efficient ship. She glared at the door.
He walked into her office four minutes late and as if he owned it. His swagger and bravado did not surprise her, she'd seen them before and would see them again in the next eager child playing at greatness. She ushered him to sit and Kirk went straight for his target. As expected he wanted his next title. As he spoke and negotiated the terms of her support she quickly realized that he obviously thought nothing of her bond with Pike. The way he spoke to her and expected her to go along was shockingly blasé. She doubted he thought much of anyone's bonds. She knew his record as well as anyone, better even, he was a lone wolf, going through officers and women like a petulant child with a limitless toy box. He may be leading the flagship but he wasn't irreplaceable. Not by a long shot.
The game of negotiating was easy to play, she'd been through it too many times before. She volleyed his words fiercely and played hard to get and then as his guard was lowered by the familiarity of the repartee she stepped up the game. He moved to open flirtation and flattery. Achingly predictable. She has to hold back a scoff at how easily she's playing him. When he strides over to run his hands (his filthy murdering hands) over her shoulders and whisper in her ear she plays along for a moment. One moment, just enough so she can inject him with the hypo she's been fingering since before he walked in.
Kirk cries out in anger and lunges for her as she rises from her chair and twists gracefully out of his reach. The paralytic is fast acting and he doesn't make it more than 3 steps before he's stumbling and falling to the ground. "You bitch!" is all he can shout at her before it's just garbled sounds. And then silence. Beautiful silence.
Number One stands patiently as he goes completely still, waiting dutifully before she approaches. Watching him go prone is delicious, he is hers now and the fire in her gut leaps with joy to have him at her mercy. When she approaches his collapsed form she pushes her chair out of the way and arranges him on the ground flat on his back.
"Enjoying this Kirk?" She doesn't call him captain, that's not a title for anyone but Pike in her mind. It's a title Kirk never deserved in the first place. He might as well still be a cadet as far as she's concerned. She holds the now empty hypo before his eyes, "This is one of your friend McCoy's. Handy little thing. Keeps the feeling through the paralysis much better than anything else. I'm sure you've used it yourself before, you must know how perfect it is."
His eyes, the only things he can move, are fixed on her with a deep glare of hatred. Number One just smiles at him. There's a vicious sort of glee filling her as she toys with him, "Now Kirk, don't be like that. Everything comes around. You've killed a lot of people to get where you are. You had a good run. But you had to know this day would come even if you didn't know it'd be me." She pats his cheek patronizingly as she moves to straddle and sit on his chest.
"How could you have known I'd hold a grudge?" she takes a hold of his cheek and plays with him. Her finger tracing over the planes of his face. "I was a system away when you killed him after all. Who cares about an ex first officer who's pulled their own ship? They don't care about old bosses," she said it all casually, taunting, playing coy with him.
"You were too young to know what was going on. You didn't know what we were planning." She leans in closer, her words taking on the rage she felt, "You didn't know we were going to take the empire," with the admission she lets the anger take over fully. She dug her nails into his jaw before changing her grip to hold him fiercely by the hair and if he's been able to he'd have cried out from the force she used to yank his head back. She used one perfectly manicured fingernail to scratch down his cheek and draw blood as she continued, " You crossed the wrong woman Kirk, I don't forgive, and you ruined all my plans when you killed Captain Pike," she pulled his head up and then slammed it into the floor. "You ruined everything," slam "Do you realize," slam "Who," slam "You," slam "Killed?" she all but shouted. Her breath was quickening as she let out the rage she felt for this cocksure little bastard who'd stolen everything from her. This child. This idiot blood drunk pretty boy. Her heart sings in her chest as blood and anger flows through her. She can feel Pike watching her. Asking for revenge she's all too eager to give him at long last.
She releases Kirk's hair in disgust as she looks him over. "Christopher Pike was a great man, he deserved a better death and he sure as hell deserved a better successor," she spat the words out before standing to retrieve her tools.
One took her time and steadied herself as she checked the kit before returning to the floor. She didn't look at him. The worthless child who'd ruined everything. She needed to focus. She wasn't going to take too long but she didn't want to be so far gone she couldn't enjoy and remember each moment of his death. So close, she thought to herself. She would steady herself for Pike. For her captain, she would serve him again through this. She would be his first again with this.
She smiled and turned back to Kirk.
She knelt on the floor and opened the small case and picked out a pair of scissors, "If you hadn't realized yet I want you to know that I am going to kill you," her voice rang clear and cool now with her head on straight again and focused on the mission. She snaps the scissors in front of his face, taunting him before going to his chest. Number One cuts each adornment of his tunic and showed them to him before putting them in a small metal container. "You don't deserve to be part of the Terran Empire. You're a mad dog that needs to be put down. You are unworthy of your station. There is a difference between ruthless and thoughtless," she lectures as she takes the marks of his service. The achievements he brags so thoroughly about. When Number One has finished her work she burns them and dumps the still hot ash over his face.
She reaches into the kit and pulled out a length of cord. Tying his hands together over his head, she moves to straddle him again. She settles and watches as they started to lose circulation. He'd be struggling if he could and part of her wishes she could allow the fight. But he's reckless and she's not as young as she used to be. There's no reason to take extra risks. Even if she misses the fight.
She can hear Christopher in her head like it was yesterday.
"You like when they struggle. You live for it. My vicious One," he whispers in her ear and she can almost feel his breath. She can feel his hands on her. Leading her, guiding her. For a moment he's alive again next to her.
When Kirk's hands pale she snaps back to reality and speaks to him, "Not too long, I've already waited a long time to kill you after all." Number One considers just killing him already, her disgust of this boy urging her to just snuff him out like an insect. But the rage, her memories of Pike, the wounds Kirk caused, remind her to temper herself.
"Steady, One," Christopher's voice echos in her head.
She looks down at Kirk. She could draw this out as long as she wanted but it's not going to be any better than moving too quickly. She flicks the thoughts away and listens to Pike. She focuses again. Nothing she does will bring her captain back. She won't wake up tomorrow in his bed, in his arms. When Kirk is dead the only thing that'll change is that she'll have her revenge. One more animal put down.
She brushes some of the now cool ash from his face as she decides her next move. There are small burns and it satisfies her to see the damage to his handsome face. She just stares and considers him for awhile, eyes roaming across his face. His neck. He's furious and in pain and she can tell he's cursing her internally. She just smirks, enjoying his helplessness. She reaches into the kit again.
Her hand pulls out a vial, gloves, and cloth. She hold the small bottle before his face, "Can you read the name? I'm going to ruin that pretty face of yours so they can't even show it at your funeral."
His eyes widen a fraction at her words. She lays the cloth on her thigh, dons the gloves and then unscrews the lid and fills the eyedropper. She carefully taps the excess back into the bottle and dangles the dropper threateningly over his eyes.
"Do you know how it feels? Or have you just heard? I do hope I'm the first to use it on you. You've been a superior for so long, maybe you've forgotten. But you know it's use of course. A few drops of this will get anyone talking," she says airily. She makes sure to look straight in his eyes as she speaks again, "But I don't want you to talk."
One grins wickedly as she moves the dropper away from his face and instead moves to his forearm. She looks down at him briefly. "Here's a taste of what's to come," she says as she carefully squeezes just one drop onto the bare flesh. It sizzles and burns through the skin on contact and she smiles as she waits for it to fizzle out.
"There, not so bad," she coos, griping his face like a child and digging her nails in enough to break the skin. She releases him with a short laugh and brings the dropper to his cheek. She lets one perfect drop fall on the apple of each cheek and lets it burn. His eyes are almost rolling back in pain. Good, is all she can think.
She puts one drop on his nose, another two at his temples and one just brushing the outer corner of his left eye. She enjoys that one the most. Number One carefully replaces the eyedropper and takes the cloth in one hand. Once prepared she takes the bottle and she carefully pours some of the liquid on the cloth before wiping it across his face. She moves temple to chin in a decisive movement. She avoids his eye, just scrapping the outside of his face and jawline instead. Again she sits back and just watches his face turn red and pucker and blister and bleed as the acid foams and works at him. When it's done she give him some time to recover before doing the other side. She wants to ensure he really feels this.
"I'll let you die after this. I promise," she whispers just before wiping the cloth over his face a second time.
"Well, after this one," she allows herself the indulgence. His face still looks too good anyway. The third stroke is over his forehead.
"One..." She hears his voice warn, like she's done something bad. Her blood cools and her stomach tightens instinctively. She must stay in control. For him, she wasn't allowed to lose control for anyone but Captain Pike. She must control herself. 'Yes Sir' she thinks obediently.
"Alright, I mean it now. I'll kill you soon," she promises both to Kirk and to Pike. She wipes the cloth across Kirk's lips and they burn raw.
As this last pass works she returns the bottle and cloth to the kit and closes it. She takes off the gloves and sets them aside. She collects herself and has to fight the chill, she doesn't want to displease him, only honor her Captain.
"All done," she announces as she snaps back to her task. She takes moment to admire her handiwork. His eyes are mostly intact and not much else isn't covered with burns and blisters and blood. The sight pleases her. "Now, Kirk...it's time," his eyes are unfocused with pain but they stay with her as best he can manage.
She holds his delirious gaze and reaches down to grasp his neck with her pristine hands. She secures her grip and begins to squeeze. Satisfaction rising in her chest as his eyes bulge the slightest bit. She tightens her hands and pushes down to choke him further. Her eyes watch his face as his body struggles internally. She doesn't say any more words to taunt him. She just takes in the sight of his death. The slow drain of color and the fall for his pulse. His heart desperately thrums underneath her and it makes her smile wickedly. Everything is trying to get a breath, to live, but it's no use. Her hold is firm and the paralytic makes it impossible. Only when she can't feel his heart or his breath and his face is tinted blue does she remove her hands. There are marks on his neck and a few points where she's drawn blood with her nails.
She takes a deep breathe to steady the swelling triumph in her chest and stands. She carefully places her kit away and throws the hypo and the cloth in the recycler. Next she goes to her closet and wheels out a large silver case. She opens the latches and lifts the lid. A quick final appraisal and then she starts to drag Kirk's dead body into it. It takes some effort but it's nothing she can't handle. She closes the case on him and walks out the door with the cart.
She tosses the case into the bay that night. She had killed James T. Kirk, but had no intention of claiming her victory. She had little thirst for power without her Captain by her side.