universal_charm | The Empty Space Inside My Head [ Action / Voice ]

[ He woke up to an empty bed, which in and of itself wasn't unusual. Spock got up earlier than him most days, but there was something different about it today. The bed wasn't warm, wasn't the sort of muffled from being made up so as not to wake him. He sat up and stared at the empty space, because if he stared long enough that wrongness would go away, wouldn't it? Instinctively he reached out as Spock had taught him... and felt nothing. It was his own head, his own space, his own feelings and nothing of that quiet pressure in the back of his head. It was gone and he was alone in his head, and despite himself he felt his eyes burning as he tried to keep staring and make it not true.

Eventually he noticed the PADD on the bedside, and he reached for it, turning it on and curling in on himself as he read it through misty eyes. He hadn't felt like this since Pike died, since he had lost someone so important in his life that it left a super nova inside his head, in the little universe he had constructed to show Spock when they meditated. This was why he didn't do relationships, why he didn't get close to anyone, why he knew it had to be a bad idea, and damn Spock for this and the Malnosso and all of it-!

Eventually he got himself out of bed, the immediate sadness giving way to anger - at everything, anyone. An anger he could use to keep himself moving like he had before. He dressed himself and went to the Battle Dome, claiming a room and locking it before he started up the sims. He knew, in the back of his mind, he knew that this wasn't going to make him feel better in the long run or make this not real or make him wake up from what had to be a long, terrible, cruel dream. It didn't matter though. He understood this - the lashing of fists, punching, kicking, kneeing, rolling and dodging. Understood the burn of his muscles and his lungs, the drip of sweat down his face and the sting of pain. He understood that, could function with that like he always had and let himself drift in the haze of reaction and anger. He drifted until it pulled him under and he collapsed, soaked in sweat and trembling, gasping for air.

When he had enough of himself back he grabbed the stupid little journal and opened it, keying it to voice only. He didn't want people to actually see him like this. ]

[ Audio ]

[ There's several moments of panting - and not the pervy kind, the kind that said someone was bone tired, utterly exhausted, and possibly emotionally distressed - or scared. ]

Spock's gone home.

[ Another pause, while he debated what else to say, but what was there? The transmission ended. ]

[ /End Audio ]

[ He tossed the journal aside and pushed himself back to his feet, wobbling for a minute and then shook his head and keyed up the sim again. What he wouldn't give to have a serial murderer super soldier to go after this time. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah. Mine tended to be causing as much trouble as I could. But that's what happens when you don't give a ten year old boy something constructive to do...

One as clever as you doubtless were? That begs for trouble. Did you have no means with which to engage yourself otherwise?

I lived on a farm not worth the dirt it sat on. You do the math.

_{[ He looked up at him and arched a brow and jangled his glass for
another pour, a delightful buzz sneaking up on him, his muscles relaxing
despite the abuse he had just put them through. ]}

[ Another pour he wants, another pour he shall have. ]

So living on a farm is not all delightful songs and chores as I have been informed in the past?

Not when it's made out of a dust bowl, no. I was mostly just left there because I didn't have other family to care for me while Mom was away doing whatever she did out in the stars, and she paid him.

_{[ He shrugged, not thinking any more or less of the situation than
what it was. No use crying over spilled milk, right? At least he sipped his
drink slower this time. ]}

You had no father or grandfather to care for you either?

My dad died right when I was born. He's a hero, in Star Fleet. He saved his crew and I think saved the universe for a little bit.

_{[ So the save the universe part might be exaggerating a tiny bit, but
he had come to appreciate the sacrifice his dad made. Let him embellish a
little. ]}

I think my grandparents were dead or incapable of caring for me. I never met them.

My father died before I was born, my mother in childbirth. I was raised by the whores in the brothel where she worked.

[ Since they are sharing tales. Another shot for himself, an offer of another for Kirk. ]

From the most barren of furrows there may yet flourish some magnificent trees.

_{[ Oh yes another shot please. ]}

That was deep. Get a few more shots in me and I might appreciate it more.

_{[ Though he kind of got what he meant. He might not have much blood
family, but he had plenty of family he made for himself - his friends.
]}

I bet growing up in a brothel was interesting.

The whores were quite informative. Probably not the safest place to learn of love as they sold the illusion of it but- I learned how to be cynical. That has saved me a lot of pain.

Says the man currently married to two other men.

People change. I was quite resistant to anything more than feeling as though I was a good friend that happened to have fantastic, flexible, satisfying sex with an all but wed couple.

That space of four months after I died and I felt no desire to distract me from sorting out how I felt for them? Helped. It is remarkable what you can manage when your primary means of distracting yourself and others from considering things seriously is taken away.

The Empty Space Inside My Head [ Action / Voice ]

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