Everlong
by Taylor-V
Chapter 1
Summary: Rewritten. When Kirk and Spock escape from a Tarkan research vessel they've been held captive in, they take half-Mari Dorthea DeVult along, accidentally leaving her sister Eliza behind. With the girl's fate on his conscience, Kirk is compelled to assist Dorthea in the rescue of Eliza, but finds the eldest's concentration waning as her obsession with Spock's mind strengthens.
Disclaimer: Don't own? Okay.

Pain radiated like venom through the joint where Kirk's arm connected to his shoulder, growing white hot as his eyes peeled open. He groaned dully, lifting his hand in the almost total darkness to feel for the wound. Sticky wetness coated his fingers when he gingerly prodded a large gash of some sort in his ball-socket joint. If only he could see, he might be able to stop the bleeding, create a makeshift tourniquet or something. But the black surrounding him would have been absolute, if not for a yellow light flickering weakly under the crack of the door locking him in this unfamiliar room.

"Sp… Spock. You there?"

Gently feeling around for his Commander, Kirk climbed slowly to his knees, careful not to put any weight on his aching arm. His head throbbed angrily and he dug his tongue into his cheek to keep from emitting any moan of any sort. "Come on, Spock. Where are you…."

He stumbled in near-blindness, good hand held out in front of him while he learned the plan of the room he was currently held in, feeling along the walls and storing away each nook and cranny for later use. In his exploration, his knee bumped into something solid, but soft. The muscular thigh of a familiar Vulcan. Heart leaping in ecstasy, Kirk traced the contours of Spock's face and chest, ascertaining that it was indeed him lying unconscious and cold on the ground, before checking for a pulse and breathing. Though both were considerably labored, and Kirk could smell the copper of the Vulcan's blood on his hands, he was alive. For the time being.

He searched both their persons, hoping, but doubtful, that he would find their weapons or anything else that would give off enough light to assess the damage done. Nothing.

Vertigo was creeping in on him at the loss of blood seeping from the injury in his shoulder, but Kirk struggled determinedly to stay awake. Tearing a strip of cloth from his shirt with his teeth, he resigned himself to bumbling about fixing the best tourniquet he could just before the wound, and then set about dressing Spock's.

From what he could tell, there was a deep slash in his Commander's left cheek, trailing from his chin up behind his ear, which was thankfully still intact. On his chest, several shallow cuts, and a swollen mass above his right temple. Even in sleep, he winced as Kirk's fingers prodded lightly at his ribs, suggesting bruising, if not fractures. Removing the entire shirt from his back, he began tearing it into strips and did what he could with what he had. Soon, most of the fabric had been wound around Spock's torso, and he'd managed to secure a scrap of fabric onto the wound on his jaw with the gauze that had previously been wrapped around Kirk's own sprained wrist, fortunately of his injured arm. During the process Spock had begun to squirm uncomfortably, though still under, despite Kirk's soothing words and assurances.

"Captain?"

The word came out somewhat garbled, and concussion was added to Kirk's worries.

"It's me, Spock. Try to rest. You're beat up pretty badly. I tried to fix you up the best I could, but…." He trailed off, knowing that Spock would understand.

He sat up, despite Kirk's and his body's protests, and attempted to penetrate the darkness surrounding them with his eyes.

"Where are we?"

"I don't know, obviously—you should really lie back down. Right now, it doesn't seem like we're in any immediate danger. No one's been here since I woke up." He tried to push his First Officer back down, but the man easily resisted all attempts.

"And yourself?" Spock inquired, ignoring him. "Are you unharmed?"

"I think I got shot in my shoulder, but I've got it taken care of."

"Have you made any attempts to contact Starfleet or the Enterprise?"

"They took all our gear."

"What took place in the events after I fell unconscious?"

"Is this how Vulcans deal with injury?" Kirk grumbled.

Even in the black, he could feel Spock's emotionless gaze on him.

"This is how Vulcans deal with hostage situations, Captain. You should be giving as much thought as possible to escaping as well—"

"Like I haven't already been doing that," he snapped. "But we're stuck in a square cell made of some kind of rock, as far as I can tell, with about a hundred square feet, no phasers, no communicators, no tricorders, and no way in hell to see farther than a millimeter in front of our faces. There isn't much to go off of. Now lie down and shut up so you can heal and I can get rid of this headache."

After a moment of silence in which Kirk massaged his temples with his good hand, he felt Spock's body straighten onto the floor next to him and sighed in relief.

"Captain?"

"What?" he growled irately, feeling the ache flare.

"Thank you. For your ministrations."

Shock rippled through Kirk for the merest of seconds before he relaxed and allowed himself to lean his bare back against the cold, craggy rock wall with a small smile. "You're welcome, Mr. Spock." He settled into the most comfortable spot he could find at Spock's side and listened intently to the slowing of the other man's breathing as he fell back into a deep sleep, until Kirk too drifted into unconsciousness.

What felt like seconds later, a piercing bright light and rough voices jerked him into groggy awareness. Kirk attempted to lift himself to his feet, but felt the dead weight of his arm and thick head holding him down like two gigantic dumbbells.

"Son of a… what the hell's going on?" he mumbled thickly, squinting blindly up at the source of the white light emanating from about ten feet in front of him. "Spock?"

"I am here, Captain," came the cool voice at his side, softened into a whisper.

He suddenly became aware that the thing holding him down was not his arm and head, though they certainly felt heavy enough, but Spock's viselike grip on his wrist.

"What's going on?"

In the light, now dimmed as it turned away from the cracks in the door, he could see enough of Spock's face to make out the wheels whirring behind the Commander's dark eyes.

"It seems there has been a disturbance," he responded starkly, gaze still locked avidly on the door as the voices behind it grew in volume. "Intruders, from what I can understand of their language."

"Who are they?"

"I cannot say. From what information I have gathered, they have many enemies—"

"No, our abductors," Kirk corrected, his body and mind rapidly becoming alert.

Spock's attention flickered to him for only a moment, and Kirk thought he saw a strange emotion buried in their depths. "Tarkan scientists. Upon our arrival at the Beta-Delta Quadrant border, they attacked the Enterprise with the seeming intent of capturing me. Reasoning is unknown. I was stunned into unconsciousness. You attempted to retaliate and rescue me, but were also stunned and taken hostage. I have no information on the Enterprise or its whereabouts at this time."

"That's what I get for trying to be the hero," Kirk responded after a minute.

Spock lifted his eyebrow.

"How did you find all this out?"

"A guard supplied food while you were sleeping and I melded with him."

Glancing in the corner, Kirk spotted an untouched packet of dried something-or-other. "How long was I out?"

"Approximately nine hours, twenty-six minutes, and thirty-eight seconds," he reeled off.

A tremor shook the room, knocking Kirk to the side and onto his wounded shoulder. Shocks of pain jolted sharply down to his extremities and he withheld a yelp, replacing it with shallow gasps of air that made his head spin. "Ah… son of a…." He growled breathlessly.

"Are you able to move, Captain?" Spock righted the man with gentleness completely unexpected from him.

"Yeah, just give me a quick second."

"We may not have a second."

They stared momentarily at the shadows crossing in front of the door, the shouting outside deafening now, before launching into action. Spock jumped to his feet, kneeling to assist his Captain up as Kirk tightened the tourniquet around his shoulder.

"Are you good, Spock? You're worse off than I am."

"My body is capable of enduring much worse than this and functioning adequately," he replied definitely. "My only concern now is for your safety."

Their eyes met briefly, and Kirk allowed Spock his worry. After all, his head was still whirling nauseatingly. Draping his arm around Spock's shoulder, Kirk let his weight rest on the man's back and found himself lifted as easily as a bag of feathers.

"When the door opens, we will 'make a break for it', as you would say," Spock instructed. "If it is necessary, I will remain behind in order for you to escape safely—"

"No, Spock—"

"—and will fight the others off. Your mission now is to reach the cargo bay. The Enterprise will be searching for our frequencies, and cargo is most likely to be unprotected."

"Spock, I'm not leaving this ship without my Commanding officer," Kirk stated firmly.

"My position is expendable," Spock countered. "Much more so than yours. If I cannot continue, you must."

This time, Kirk held his gaze. "You're coming with. And that's an order, Officer."

A slam shook the walls, and Spock nodded in acquiescence. They stared intently at the door, waiting for the moment that they could slip away. It felt like hours passed.

Suddenly, finally, the thick block of stone slammed open, blinding Kirk for the millionth time, but having no effect whatsoever on Spock as he plowed through the figure in the doorway, hauling Kirk nearly on his back as he did. They burst into a maze of grey halls, a white alert light flashing brightly from bulbs spaced at short intervals along the walls. Utter chaos surrounded them, the multicolored beams of phasers whizzing past their heads as they stumbled around lifeless bodies of Tarkans and other prisoners strewn along the floor.

Spock leapt over them with ease, completely disregarding his injuries, and swung Kirk onto his back like a child to increase their pace.

"Put me down, Spock," Kirk ordered over the din, though his own heart was thrumming unevenly and his lungs clenched tightly. "I can run."

"Our chances of survival are decreased forty-point-eight-nine-two percent if I am to allow you to carry yourself," Spock shouted back.

Unable to argue with that logic, Kirk tightened his good arm around Spock's neck and tried to make himself as light as possible.

Spock sped them through multiple hallways, each growing emptier and quieter the farther they got from what seemed to be the center of the commotion. He didn't falter once, only moved faster and with more determination.

"Where are we?" Kirk asked breathlessly, after at least fifteen minutes of traveling.

"The secondary hull. The cargo hold is near, Captain."

"What else?" Kirk had only glanced at their surroundings, and he wanted to be sure that no sneak attacks were possible.

"Shuttlebay."

Before he could even open his mouth, however, Spock cut in.

"I have already considered the possibility that there will be guards waiting to ambush escapees," he remarked, taking a right and firing off a phaser he'd removed from one of the fallen Tarkans' body earlier on at an oncoming guard. It hit him square in the chest and the giant body toppled over instantly, clearing the way once more.

"Nice aim."

"Thank you, Captain."

Kirk sighed minutely. "We're in a life-or-death situation here, Spock," he reprimanded. "I think you can call me Jim right now, if never again."

"That would be inappropriate, Captain."

Rolling his eyes, Kirk gave up on the subject and let Spock run in silence.

They descended a flight of stairs and suddenly found themselves surrounded by a large, packed cargo hold that, though perfect for hiding in case of attack, would impede their progress exponentially. Spock held the phaser at the ready, while still keeping Kirk steady on his back. They quickly scanned the cathedral-sized area.

"Look." Kirk pointed over his companion's shoulder, toward the center of the room where a large computer was flashing the word 'WARNING' in bright blue. "Can you contact the Enterprise from that?"

"If I am able to bypass the security system, reaching the Enterprise should be simple."

"Put me down. I'll cover you."

Spock surveyed him with intense scrutiny. "Captain, are you sure you are well enough?"

Kirk scowled. "I can handle it." He drew the phaser from his belt and set it to stun, nodding firmly at the Commander.

Spock released his captain and jumped lithely from one level to the next and over to the station. Immediately he began typing in a string of nonsense letters and symbols. Kirk watched him work for a moment, feeling a prickling of the tiny hairs on the backs of his neck and arms. A flicker of scarlet flashed in the corner of his eye, and he spun on his heel, completely disregarding the protest of his stinging arm.

Nothing. His head spun from the abruptness of the motion and the sudden drumming of his heart in response to the release of chemicals. Footsteps thundered above, the shouting escalating in volume as the seconds passed.

"You in?" he called over his shoulder, gaze locked on the door they'd come through. When there was no response, he craned his neck around. "Spock?"

The computer screen glowed bright blue on the snowy white skin of the back of Spock's neck and hand, his fingers clenched tightly around the source of the ribbon of red that had disturbed Kirk not minutes earlier. A woman with equally pale skin, made even whiter by the flaming red hair flowing down to her breast, glared up in fear at Spock's impassive expression.

"Identify yourself."

She continued to glower silently, her face slowly darkening in color as she struggled to breathe.

"Hey!" A second intruder, blonde and livid, directed a humming phaser at the center of Kirk's chest.

He quickly noted the similarities between the two and filed them away for later use. They shared the same body structure, cloned petite noses, and almond-shaped eyes. Too close to have no relations. Kirk pointed his own weapon at the younger girl's forehead.

"Let her go," she commanded.

"Lower your weapon."

The redhead struggled against Spock's grip, her fingernails scrabbling uselessly at his hands. His eyes darted from the blonde to Kirk and back again.

"Lower yours."

"We'll compromise."

"Tell the Vulcan to stop strangling my sister and we'll talk."

Spock, though unrelenting, looked to Kirk for orders. He nodded once. A hacking cough ripped through the woman's throat as she doubled over, bracing herself with one hand on her knee, the other wrapped loosely around her neck.

"There," Kirk told the blonde. "Now—on the count of three. We'll lower our weapons."

Receiving an approving look from the redhead, the younger sister scowled and gradually dropped the phaser to the floor. He set his on the ground as an act of good faith.

"Who are you?" the redhead demanded, voice raspy under stress.

"We asked first."

The siblings exchanged quick looks.

"Dorthea." Redhead.

"Eliza." Blonde. "Your turn."

"Jim Kirk, captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise. This is my First Officer, Mr. Spock."

"You work for the Federation?" Dorthea eyed him doubtfully, despite the logo in the upper left-hand corner of Spock's shredded shirt. "What are you doing on a Tarkan research vessel?"

"Probably the same thing you are."

Dark splotches stained their skin and the thin black sweats it seemed all prisoners had assigned, scarlet wheals and half-healed cuts stretched across what they could see of their arms and torsos.

"Some captain," Eliza scoffed, "getting captured—with your First Officer—and imprisoned. I can see why they hired you."

"Hey—"

Their attention was directed upward as footsteps thundered above, accompanied by ear-shattering bellows and the shaking of an explosion somewhere in the upper levels.

"I do not see how this argument will help in our escape."

All three pairs of eyes fixed on Spock, who looked up at them calmly. The emotional detachment in his Commander's eyes returned Kirk to the task at hand.

"Spock, get back on that computer." He faced the girls as Spock immediately restarted the process of hacking through the Tarkans' security system. "We're leaving here, with or without you. But if you want to come, you're welcome to."

"Yes."

"No."

The siblings glared at each other.

"Eliza!"

"Dorthea!"

While they argued softly between themselves, Kirk bent and picked the phaser back up, keeping it clutched in his hand and at alert. Over the clacking of Spock's fingers and the commotion above, he could just make out the sound of more stomping growing closer and closer to the door he and Spock had entered through. His heart stuttered into an anxious thrum as adrenaline shot into his blood and every muscle on his body tensed in preparation for battle.

"How's it coming, Spock?" he shouted back to him.

"I have gained access to the main communications line and am currently searching for the Enterprise."

"How long?" His eyes glued to the door as the pounding and voices increased in volume.

"Approximately four minutes and fifty-eight seconds until we are beamed aboard the Enterprise." A green bar stretched across the screen when Spock connected to Scotty's station.

"Make it two."

"Captain, that is impossib—"

"Just do it, Spock!" Kirk ordered over the rising din.

A large weight of some kind was thrown into the other side of the thick steel door, and Kirk raised his phaser.

"Are you coming with?"

The blonde—Eliza—stationed herself at his side and lifted her own phaser. "Yeah, we're going," she grumbled.

"Get back here," Dorthea ordered her sister angrily. "Let him take care of it."

"I'm not going to leave him to fight them all."

A second bang left the metal disfigured and groaning.

"She's right," Kirk said. "Get back."

His words were met by a fiercely blue gaze.

"You're wounded and bleeding hard."

He glanced down at the makeshift tourniquet and was shocked to see scarlet steadily soaking into the strip of fabric and spilling down his arm.

"I'm not going to let you fight alone when I can help."

Seeing a lost battle and giant waste of time, Kirk nodded and faced the door just as it collapsed through, a giant cloud of smoke rolling through the doorframe in thick waves that clogged the air and their lungs and obstructed their vision almost completely.

"Aim for the heart!" he advised before burying his nose in the crook of his arm and peering through the smog at the blurry dark outlines of the emerging into the cargo bay. Tears streamed from his eyes in an effort to moisten his eyeballs and he fired blindly at the closest approaching figure. It collapsed to the ground on impact, soon accompanied by another shot down by Eliza, located somewhere to Kirk's left. Holding his breath, he reached out wildly and groped around for her arm to pull her nearer to the edge. His fingers clamped around her wrist and he jerked her to his chest, exterminating two more guards, and with his arm wrapped tightly around her small body, launched them both over the edge to where he heard Spock yelling for Kirk and Dorthea yelling for Eliza.

"Captain!"

"Right here, Spock!"

The Vulcan's hand gripped his shoulder like a vise and yanked the man back, out of the general line of fire.

"Mr. Scott is locating our frequencies and will beam us up at any second." The sharp voice was unnervingly clear in the riot.

"Deedah!" Eliza's cry was suddenly fear-stricken and she tore from Kirk's grasp to find her sister.

"No!" Kirk lurched to grab her, but Spock held him still.

"Your return is most important," he reminded the captain.

Particles of light swelled in front of them and began revolving impossibly fast around their bodies. Kirk reached out desperately for her, for them both, guilt already pooling hot and thick in his stomach. His fingers brushed something soft and warm. Skin. He grabbed ahold tightly and then—

He blinked in the bright clarity of the transporter room, his head suddenly spinning. McCoy rushed at the group of people that had just materialized onto the pad, hypos and his tricorder at the ready. Kirk attempted to shove the infuriated, obsessive doctor to Spock, but found his strength sapping away the more his heartbeat slowed and McCoy easily overcame him. He struggled to see who he'd grabbed, and if whichever it was, if they'd grabbed their sister.

A shock of red blazed past a gap in McCoy's arms.

"Eliza?"

His stomach sunk.

The girl.

A/N: Hey! I've decided to rewrite Everlong, because when I went back and read it a couple days ago, I realized how much it sucked. So for those of you who are fans of it just the way it is, you can just keep on reading the original. But for those of you who feel the way I do, this is so much better! Please enjoy, read, and review! Merry Christmas!