Spectrum, by JJ Arrow (jjarrow@aol.com) Well, here we go. This is the first somewhat edited version, and even tho I'm forever editing, over and over, there are still bugs to work out. DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. Spectrum contains lots of torture. It also has love. If those things make you squeamish, don't read this. :) This story crosses over with ElfQuest; however, you don't have to read ElfQuest to understand this story. I wrote this story because I love Q; this is *his* story. :) Enjoy, and feel free to either post or email your comments/questions. Please!! ----- "set him up to let him fall turn him over in your hands God save the king of New Orleans" Spectrum, Part I Doctor Beverly Crusher sat at her desk, and sighed into the still quiet. Everything seemed to be so confused... ...ever since the seventeenth letter of the alphabet appeared in a flash of light in Sickbay, and, after a few choice phrases of the usual rudeness-- -- crumpled to the floor, dying. They *had* stabilized his condition, at least. She sighed once more, wearily, and typed up her report for Starfleet, as was customary... Dr. Crusher's head whirled around, as Q materialized in Sickbay. She felt a migraine coming on. Q leaned against the wall in a way that seemed to be nauseatingly comfortable, but the doctor's sharp eye caught that something was wrong... his chest was heaving, as he sucked in air sharply, and on his left hand, a finger was sticking out at a strange angle... The doctor's innate instinct to heal overcame her revile for the despicable creature, this arrogant immortal that tormented her crewmates so many times... "What's the matter, Beverly?" asked Q, his voice hoarse, but still carrying that high-handed quality that set her teeth on edge. "Haven't you ever seen anyone die before?" He stepped forward-- or tried to. His knees buckled. "Ogawa!" Crusher called out, as her assistant joined her by her side in but an eyeblink. "He's dying," Crusher said grimly... Yes, they had stabilized his condition. But that was before he had gone into a coma. Before he lay motionless in the rehab room, his eyes staring at the ceiling and seeing nothing, his ears unhearing, no sound passing between his lips. That was before he snapped out of it, not seeming to remember any of this crew who he had annoyed so often. Before he looked at everyone and everything in fear, as a threat. Before her tricorder couldn't read him anymore, so she couldn't do anything about it when he started to tremble and shiver uncontrollably with some unseen cold. Before he couldn't sleep a sleep without nightmares. Yes. They had stabilized his condition. Before. "Be careful," Crusher warned Counselor Troi, who had recently entered the Bay, speaking as much for the Counselor's safety than for Q's mental stability. "He's..." Her voice trailed off. "Unstable" wasn't quite the right word. Her mind flitted back to times when she approached him, trying to get a reading, and he would eye her fearfully, and scramble away into the corner, like a frightened mouse. She sighed for the umpteenth time. Even Q's arrogant posturing and insulting remarks would have been preferable to the almost constant silence of the Bay. The doors to the rehab room hissed open, parting for the counselor. "Q..." she started to ask. He was asleep on a medlab table, not the comfortable, graceful lounging about, but curled up, caught in the grip of some terrible nightmare, and seeming quite... vulnerable. His eyes darted around under his lids, locked in some nightmarish REM. If Troi listened carefully, she could hear him moan quite softly, fitfully, as he tossed and turned. Q awoke with a start, his gaze wild, nervous, and not settling on one thing too long. Whirling, he saw Troi, and inched away slightly. Troi was confused. Where was he? Where was this being that the Enterprise used to know, used to *hate*, for crying out loud!?! What sort of creature had done this? What had they done, to fling Q to almost the other end of the spectrum? Carefully, as if handling something poisonous, she put a calming hand on his shoulder. "It's all right," she said gently, pushing out of her mind that this was he who introduced her shipmates to the Borg, race without mercy. He shrieked, shrinking from her soft touch, scrambling away into the corner. His arms covered his head protectively; his shoulders were hunched. Every piece of confidence he might once have emanated was there, shattered like shards of broken glass on the floor, as he trembled, frightened, cold, his eyes closed tightly. "Don't touch me, don't hurt me!" "I'm not going to hurt you," she soothed, desperately trying to keep her voice gentle. Q opened one eye cautiously."You... won't?" "No." She stepped toward him, and he eyed her boot worriedly, twisting away, as if to dodge a kick, or some such. Troi watched, concerned, and knelt beside him, slowly. "What happened to you?" she asked quietly, more to herself than to the fearful immortal. She couldn't read him at all. He was keeping his mind shielded. She couldn't read it... and, probably more important to Q -- she couldn't hurt it. Troi could never have hurt another creature's mind, even if she had the capacity to do so. But Q didn't seem to care about that right at this moment. "I can't help you, if you don't let your guards down," she reasoned, her voice calm. Q shook his head emphatically. "No. You can't make me. I won't let you." Troi sighed. "No, I *can't* make you. But whatever you're feeling... if you lock it away, it will stay there. Feelings don't disappear, Q." "Yes, they can." Troi's eyes rose to the ceiling. She was a counselor, she was supposed to help him, she was a counselor... *********************** "How is it going?" Crusher asked, glancing quickly at the rehab room doors, half-expecting an explosion or some such within. "Badly," Troi admitted. "I can't read him at all, and he won't tell me anything." After a moment she added, "I haven't given up yet, though. He can be difficult if he wants, but this is what I'm supposed to do." She entered the rehab room, and suddenly felt something pressing on her empathic senses. Fear. She realized it was Q. She was sensing him. And he was terrified. And miserable. And very lonely. It struck a compassionate chord within her. As she moved closer, she saw that he was shivering, almost uncontrollably. "Help me," Q asked, a genuinely desperate look washing into his normally unreadable eyes. "...so cold...where's the doctor..." "Dr. Crusher," Troi called over her commbadge, and, obligingly, Beverly entered a moment later. "Can you sense him?" she asked, trying to scan him with the tricorder, and cursing silently when it wouldn't read. "I sure can't." "Yes." She knelt beside the shivering immortal. " Q, she can't help you if you don't let her read you." "No," he coughed. "No. Not going to. No." He drew his knees to his chest. "...make it stop..." Suddenly, Crusher's eyes brightened. "I'm getting a scan." She paused, taking in the readings. "You're not going to believe this, but... he's got the human equivalent of a very high fever." She doped up the hypospray, and injected him. Troi looked at the doctor, and said slowly, "I think it's less that he let you and I read his mind and life signs... and more... that he's too weak to shield himself anymore." Crusher nodded, letting the counselor's words seep in, and left the room quietly. Troi turned back to Q. "Let me help you," she said. Q looked up at her, and something of what he used to be flashed in his eyes. He grabbed the Counselor's wrist. "Come here," he said. "I've got something to *show* you." He gave her a charming grin, and suddenly dozens of images, thoughts, sensations flooded the Betazoid... "What are you *doing*?!" she managed to gasp out, but he didn't answer. His memories took control of her senses, and the story drew her in... Oy, this day has been abysmal. Totally boring. No excitement whatsoever. I detest being bored. Hmm....perhaps I should pay the Enterprise a visit. Won't Jean-Luc be happy to see me...heh, perhaps even good old Worf....I wonder if he's evolved any since the last time I stopped by........ Ah, what's this? Yet another spacial anomaly? :::::sigh::::they seem so commonplace these days...perhaps I could see what would happen if I caused it to explode.....no, there's life inside. Interesting......ah, a parallel universe. How....quaint. Perhaps *their * lives need livening up as well as the poor humans...... Hello, what's this? The J'Shen, who made their home within the anomaly, within their nomadic reality, constantly shifting and exploring other universes, other realities. The J'Shen were scientists, doctors, observers. And they were beautiful. Fluid and graceful in their movements, flawless in their features, their voices soft and lilting, perfect in every detail-- humans raised to the clouds to be one with the seraphim. But... before all that... the J'Shen were still scientists, doctors, and observers. And they loved to experiment on live subjects. Interesting place....although the decor is enough to make you go manic-depressive.....humans talk of a sixth sense...well, I have every sense you could ever want, and they're saying to get out of here......I don't like the feel of this place.....I'm getting out - Uh oh. Something is very, Very wrong......my powers are right here, I can see them, I can feel them, I can touch them......but I can't *use* them.....like a clear wall, this place it builds...blocking me from using them.....this may take some time..... Just when I thought I had all the time in the world, suddenly, I have none........ An observer that liked to call himself Sarhan approached this strange, omnipotent being in the weird pajama-like uniform. He eyed him up and down. "This is not your real form, I'm assuming?" You assume correctly, mortal......like I care. If you don't mind, I'll be leaving in but a moment. Aurevoir. (try...to reach....powers.....have to get out of here....) A smile flitted briefly across Sarhan's face. "Oh, I don't think so. True form or no... you will make an excellent test subject. We have longed to know more about your race, for years now." And that's very sweet of you. Now if you would kindly stop blathering, I'll be on my way, my pathetic friend. "Charming," Sarhan commented dryly. "Perhaps we can make you more well-behaved." Well...your attempt at humor-- no doubt, your first --has been a dismal failure, in case you'd like to know. Now do be quiet, mortal. "I wasn't joking, stranger. It seems you have sold yourself to science: mind, body, and soul." *Now* what are you-- OW uhnn......I thought I was inside some strange structure, but look at all the stars.... ....my, but it's dark....... * * * "How is the testing with Thirty-Six going?" "I have just started. Join me if you like Sheia-- the creature shows promise." "Hmmm... yes, that and much more... " ughnnnn....where am I? ...........so dark in this place.....try and reach powers.....just beyond my reach...reach out a hand, and you've almost got them, and you realize the distance is farther than you ever knew...... Hello? what is this place??? can anyone hear me??? Now I'm stuck in this paltry human form. This is great. Just great. So closed in here......makes my skin crawl....can't bear dark, closed spaces......got to get out......ah, here, this must be the door.....so less dramatic than I prefer, opening doors....I find it more tasteful to walk through walls, but you have to take what you can get..... Locked?!? It can't be!!!! :::banging on the walls... clawing on the walls..::: Let me out of here!!!!!! Now!! You can't treat me this way! I don't deserve to be treated in this manner!!! (Well, according to most races I 've encountered, I do, but that's beside the point, and I've got to get out of here.......) I'm not afraid....I'm not afraid......I fear nothing....I am Impunity Incarnate..... (but the walls are so close together, boxing me in.....) no no it's happening, it's happening, just like I always fe- the walls are moving closer!!! No! No! This isn't happening, it's just a bizarre nightmare......but it *is* happening, it's happening right in front of these brown replicas of human eyes!!.........and I don't sleep........ AUGGHHH!!!! Let me out of here! Let me out! The dark...the dark is suffocating me, I can't *breathe*........ I want the light! Where is the light?! :::screams::: help me, somebody help me!!! don't keep me in here......all right, all right, I'll admit it-- I am afraid! Can you not see?! Are you deaf?! I'm terrified! Terrified of these dark, closed spaces! Now you know what no one else knows! There, i've said it! Are you happy?! Are you satisfied? (but that's not all you want, is it?) please.....I've never said please......what is it...something....something you want me to say? (I'm desperate, must get out of here, can't hold the walls back forever) I'm not a good person......ask anyone who has come in contact with me, they will give you a long list of my offenses......and...and...I'm sorry, ok? I am sorry!!!! why aren't you letting me out....please, please don't keep me locked up like this.....don't take my freedom away..... :::trembling::: can't take it anymore! I'm going to snap! please, let me out, this is cruel (do you want me to die?!?! I'll die in here, like this...I don't *want* to die....) no! they're moving again! let me out of here, let me out now!!!! AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE help me, make it stop, end this cruelty, make it stop, make it stop, please oh please, don't do this to me, I'll be good, I promise, I promise, just make it *stop*..... The observers listened indifferently to their test subject's shrieks of fear, listened as he screamed in mental anguish and terrified agony over and over and over... They heard him cry, they heard him moan, they heard him beg, they heard him threaten, they heard him scream. And they sat, their faces cool masks of earnest non-emotion, as they sat, scribbling things on their notepads. crying i have never cried before, this is new to me, and I'm so scared...... :::sob::: please let me out....i'll do anything you say....anything you wish... anything at all...:::sob::: just let me out of here....please....make it stop..... don't take my freedom Light flooded his private hell, as the door slowly creaked open. They saw him huddled in the corner, curled up into an almost fetal position, terrified, trying to get away from the walls and the darkness. Thirty-Six raised his head to the light that was so glorious, blood-red in color, and just short of blinding. But it didn't matter, it was light out there, and it was open... He staggered out of the cell, trembling. "Anything?" asked Sarhan. He nodded dumbly, trying to find his voice. It came out hoarse; his throat was sore from screaming. why.....did you do that to me? why did you torture me so? "Merely a test, Thirty-Six," replied Sarhan. "Merely a test. The first of many." The immortal's eyes widened. you can't mean that "But I do." He produced an instrument from the folds of his lab coat, a device shaped like an ebon, flattened cube. "It took a small amount of work, Thirty-Six, but look-- this is you. The whole of your strange physiology mapped and plotted, right here." The red light narrowed and focused on him, as a thought ran through the dazed creature's mind. i am a puppet. A female J'Shen, a little behind Sarhan, in the shadows, stepped beside her partner, her eyes glowing purple, like a deadly nightshade in bloom. She smiled at her male counterpart, and calmly plucked the device out of his hands, careful not to push any of the flat buttons and triggers on it's totally smooth surface. She turned toward the test-subject, who stood in the red light, posture slightly slumped, head lowered, as if to perfectly illustrate his feeling of complete helplessness; his confidence, like his freedom, stolen away from him. It was awful. She smiled once more, and spoke. "You are a creature that is quite perplexing to us. Do you mind if we tinker with this?" Thirty-Six's head snapped up, his eyes zooming toward the instrument in her hands, holding a mixture of horror and curiosity. Without waiting for a response of any sort, Sheia's finger's flew across a few of the flat, delicate buttons. Her test subject cried out suddenly, falling to his knees. "I wonder what that did?" remarked Sheia, murmuring to herself, and added for her partner, "Let us see how this works. Shall we?" She turned to Thirty-Six, and smiled again. "This will only take a moment." He hit the ground, his teeth clenched, but a scream that he couldn't control escaped anyway, and he writhed in utter agony. Every nerve, every fiber, every receptor in his body and mind burst with a sudden explosion of total pain. Blood seeped into the floor. please, :::gasp::: stop stop, you're hurting me He grit his teeth, finding himself on his hands and knees, as he tried to crawl away from the pain that was bursting like fireworks inside him. no more, please no more AIEEEEE something.......you did something....feels broken.....what are you doing to me......AUGGHHHH....no, please stop i'm begging you, stop....my side, hard to breathe can't breathe, please.... Finally, blessedly, it ended, and he gasped, reeling, clutching his side. A voice floated to his ears. "How do you feel, Thirty-Six?" aughh....hurts.....hurts...... "No," replied Sarhan, his voice possessing a strange calm, "you feel good, don't you, Thirty-Six? You feel very good." aaaah......no, not again, please....aughhh.....not my side...please not my side, it's broken, stop it They did. Pushing back the despair at his situation that was beginning to envelope him, he dragged his body-- broken, torn, bleeding --into a corner, and lay still, as a dark, quiet peace settled upon his shattered mind. * * * If on one fine day, you had been traversing throughout the J'Shen compound, and, on a whim, stopped by a most particular laboratory, and put your ear to the door, you would have heard the sound of hoarse screams, coming from within. But, then again, if on one fine day you had been traversing throughout the J'Shen compound, then you would have had to have been a J'Shen. So you wouldn't have cared. Troi gasped, as the "story" cut off, and she stared at Q, who was asleep, seated on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead. *How long was he there, I wonder?* Troi mused. Cautiously, she delved a little deeper into his mind, and realized, in surprise, that there was more than just that memory-send... much more... Not one, but three stories weaving within his mind... right now, the present, and then another two-- what she had just seen, a nightmare, breaking him down... and another, an anchor, that he was trying to hold onto... that which was keeping him sane... something that happened long ago... The little two-mooned planet quietly spun on it's axis, rotating around it's fireball sun of a star. Upon it's surface, oceans flowed and atmosphere whirled, ecosystems flourished, blood-pumping, pulse-beating creatures ran, above and beneath the loam, dancing the dance of life's endless circle, being born and running and living and dying and being born all over again, in an endless expanse of blue and green. A fingersnap could have demolished it all in a second. But the being that floated above in the airless void of starry space was curious, not Shiva. And the prankster of the Q Continuum could find better things to do than play canasta with a thriving planet. Like stop by and say hello. He was sure he could find someone whose company he might find amusing... Gorok tightened his grip on his spear, whirling at a noise. His sinewy muscles relaxed, as he saw the little bush-tail leap through the trees, the green leaves rustling with it's passing. No wolf demons were about to get by him-- so he swore by his spear. So far, his vow had been fulfilled... for no demons, however hidden, had been sighted by his dark eyes. He yawned. Perhaps his tribesmen wouldn't mind it if he took a quick nap... His eyes snapped open, as he stiffened, bolting ramrod straight, as a flash of light appeared between the tall trees. His jaw dropped, displaying rows of yellowing kernels of teeth, as he stared, agape, at the stranger who had suddenly just popped into being. What sort of witchery was this?! He had kept a watchful eye out for a demons' black magic since sun-up! But there had been no sound, no warning -- none at all! He tried to pick his jaw back up, but found he could not, as he was assaulted with yet another shock: this demon was...strange! Not small, like it's compatriots, no eerie huge eyes, no uncanny, pointed beast-ears, no shadow beast by his side! He seemed human, like himself, but... He shook his head. No. It was not possible. *Demons can change shape,* he reminded himself. He grinned, watching the evil one take in it's surroundings. This demon would never work it's black magic again... never cause a still-born baby among his tribespeople again... never cause the sickness that had plagued his people again... this demon would never draw breath again! ....... Q drank in his surroundings, the trees, the sky, and scanned the land for someone worthy of his pestering. The gigantic trees stirred nothing within him, nor did the flowers or birdsong. He was a being that had seen and done almost everything... and he had become jaded. He smirked to himself. The little troglodyte hiding behind the tree was under the impression that he had him surprised. *Probably Worf's distant cousin,* he mused. Seeing all while standing still, he had the distinct impression that the human wanted to harm him. He almost laughed at the prospect. *What is he going to do? Kill me with his body odor? Now *there's * a distasteful image.* He suddenly felt a strange pressure against his stomach, and glanced downward, mildly surprised, as he saw a shaft of wood sticking in it. He opened his mouth to say something, was about to say, "Now, it's not nice to impale guests. You could poke somebody's eye out with this thing."-- but no sound came out. With very little effort, he pulled it out, causing the human to gasp, when blood did not go spurting out ruptured arteries, as they were supposed to. Q looked at the flint spear point, as the strange new world started to spin around him in a haze. Something liquid, of a vile greenish-blackish color was dripping off of it. The word *Poison * burned itself into his mind, and he swayed slightly, and was about to mend himself in a fingersnap, when he found that he couldn't stand up any longer... Content-ID: <0_27185_840979336@emout18.mail.aol.com.189095> Content-type: text/plain Content-ID: <0_27185_840979336@emout18.mail.aol.com.189096> Content-type: text/plain; name="Spec2" DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. Spectrum contains lots of torture. It also has love. If those things make you squeamish, don't read this. :) This story crosses over with ElfQuest; however, you don't have to read ElfQuest to understand this story. Spectrum, Part 2 Windsong crouched, her breathing slowed, and her grip on her sword hilt tightened, as she peered through the foliage. Her keen nose sniffed at the air. Human! The scent was unmistakable. Her gaze panned the area, scanning for some sign of the creature. Suddenly, a flash of brightness in the brush, and-- She rubbed her eyes, to make sure what she saw was real. A tall one, just appearing out of nowhere! And he..it looked like a he... was strange; pale, and wearing some strange garb. *Stop it, Kinai, * she thought, mentally slapping herself. *Humans don't just appear out of nowhere! *But this one is so strange... he doesn't smell quite right... Ah! * Silent as a shadow, she drew her blade from her sheath, adrenaline pumping, ready for anything, as she saw Gorok make a quick lunging movement from behind a tree- Curse it! He was very close to her, too close for comfort... Her ears pricked up. Gorok had thrown something... her gaze turned quickly to the strange one, who had fallen, the spear having clattered to the ground from his lifeless fingers. Every instinct screamed at her to run from this place... just swing into a tree, she'd be safe, she could outrun a human any day... but something bothered her. *I don't want to see anyone die today. * She smiled and, sword drawn, the brightmetal flashing in the sunlight, walked calmly toward the human whose poisoned spear had just felled another. She pushed her fear into her stomach, glad that she had left Sunchaser back at the Holt. "Leave," she said, forcing her voice into lower, guttural octaves that the spearman could comprehend. Gorok stared at Windsong. A demon! He had heard tales, he had vowed to kill them on sight, but... never had he actually seen one! And it was speaking to him... His knees started to tremble. "Leave," she intoned. "Before I work my magic on you... and turn you into a lizard." Windsong suppressed a chuckle, as she took in the delicious sight of the human backing away cautiously. She hadn't wanted to draw blood today... although she could have, if the need occurred, willingly and without quarter. Gorok nodded, and lowered his head, slinking away, pausing to scoop something up from the ground-- A sharp rock hurtled at Windsong's sword arm. "AUGGH!" she cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise, as her sword slipped out of her hand. Gorok grinned. "So you *can* bleed, demoness," he whispered to himself. Oh, the tales they would sing of him around the campfires! They would sing of how he was-- --pushed to the ground, as the demoness sprang upon him with lightning speed. She crouched on his stomach, perfectly balanced, light, and grabbed a rather generous handful of his hair and pulled upward, causing him to clench his teeth, closing his eyes tightly. Opening his eyes for a moment, he saw her glaring at him, skyfire sparking in her eyes, as she snarled with grit teeth, a menacing growl in her throat. "I won't warn you again, human." She backed off, and Gorok ran, stumbling, without looking back. Windsong turned, catching her breath, and moved cautiously over toward the strange creature. Pushing an errant strand of soft, sienna hair out of her face, she leaned over the creature. His chest rose and fell gently. *He's breathing,* she noticed, with a small measure of relief. Tentatively, she spread four fingers over his forehead, then, swiftly drew them back in alarm. *Ouch, hot! He's burning worse than the daystar! * She sighed, warring with herself quietly. *Oh, why couldn't you have been dead, strange human? It would have been so much easier... just to leave you here, and forget. But you're still alive, and with a double-cursed poison fever! * She circled his still form quietly. *Your people have been trouble to mine since before... well, since before everything I know! Had you seen me here, you probably would have killed me on the spot, wouldn't you? And I would have done the same... Freefoot and the rest would just as well gut you as leave you to the wolves. And *I should* just walk away. * She sighed, shaking her head at her silent companion. *But you know I can't do that, don't you? * Rolling her eyes heavenward, she muttered, "High Ones, why do you do this to me???!?" She sighed again for what felt like the millionth time, cursing herself for having gone this far from the Holt. Freefoot would skin her! Ah, well. She threw back her head, and delivered a piercing howl, the notes rising and falling in nature's music. The call was answered by one who knew the same rhythm. Sunchaser bounded up to her, weaving between the massive trees, and thowing himself onto her, tail wagging happily, as he pawed at his friend, licking her face. "Not now," Windsong giggled, Sending, **Need your help.**. Sunshaser whurfed curiously. She turned back toward the stranger laying in the dirt, and placing one hand on her hip, and the other running through her long flowing hair, groaning inwardly at her predicament. How was she to drag this human all the way back to the Holt? He was one of the tallest tall ones she had ever seen! Even Sunchaser and herself combined couldn't get him all the way back there. And if she could, than what? Get him shot full of arrows once her friends caught sight of him? No, no, this wouldn't do at *all*. Climbing up to a relatively low branch of a nearby tree, she peered out, her gaze panning the horizon, turning carefully, taking in the whole area. Perhaps a valley nearby? No... An overturned tree? Anything, she entreated silently, any kind of shelter... Just some sort of something nearby she could keep him at, a tree, a cave-- A cave! She squinted just slightly, spotting a small rock formation a little ways off. It looked small, but it would do... * Q's eyes flickered open, his first gaze happening to be the sight of large, slanted, lupine eyes, looming above him, a bright emerald green swirled with blue, wide in curiosity. He felt less dizzy than he had before... had to try and mend himself... there. Ah. He sat up, noting his surroundings; some sort of cave. He reclined against the rock to his back. "It's rude to stare," he commented. Ironically, though, he played the hypocrite, and did the same toward the creature he was facing. She was small, very small, her four-fingered hands resting on the hilt of her sword, worn at her hip. His eyes moved past the flowing light brown hair, to her ears, long, delicate, pointed, tips longer than any Vulcan's. Her eyes... they grabbed him, and he who could do anything couldn't force himself to look away from her penetrating, lupine stare... The little being-- the human word *elf * crossed his mind-- took a step toward him, her white teeth bared, showing sharp, pointed canines. "Don't move, human," she growled, pronouncing the strange words carefully, with a menacing slowness. Q, now totally reclined, replied nonchalantly, "No need for that. I can understand you." Windsong tilted her head slightly, curious with this strange human's behavior. *Probably a lunatic, * she decided. She took another step forward. "Well, at least you're awake." At least? He sprang up. "How long have I been here?" Q demanded. "About three days." Q sat back down. "Oh." He sighed. "How linear you are." Time had no meaning for him. He glanced around the place. Small. Closed. Smelled like moss. He didn't quite care for it. "Well," he remarked, "I can't say it's been fun, little one-- because it *hasn't been*-- but I think I have graced you with my presence long enough." He made ready to leave. "Wait!" she snarled so forcefully that Q was momentarily taken aback. "You're not going anywhere. You owe me something -- like answers." The immortal stood fully and approached her, almost in one motion, dwarfing the elf-woman with his height. "I don't owe you anything." Windsong was not phased in the least. "Yes, you do," she said firmly. Hand off her hilt, her gestures matched her emotions. "I've taken care of you for three days, while you lay here in a stupor! I've gotten in more trouble with my chief during these past days than I ever have in my life! I've risked my tail trying to get here unnoticed so I could take care of *you*, and risked it coming back, so no one would know where I'd been! All this, to make sure *you* didn't *die*!" She calmed down slightly. "And now you owe me some answers." Q sighed again. "You *do* go on, don't you? All right, little lutin, how should I enlighten you?" She walked over to him cautiously, and picked at his red sleeve. "What is this?" He smiled briefly, his voice dripping condescension. "This is a uniform. Not part of my real form, but you could say I've become... attached... to it." Windsong scrutinized it. "Yoon-a-form?" "Anything else?" Slowly, she asked, "What... what kind of strange human *are* you?" "Human?" He gave her an injured look. "You wound me. My dear, I am not, nor have I ever been--" His last words caught in his throat. He had. Once. Never again. He shuddered. "-- a human. I take this form, little Windsong, but it is not my own, I *assure* you." "How do you know my name?!" she demanded. Q grinned darkly. "I know all. I see all. I can do more things at a snap of my fingers than you have ever dreamed of." "You're not more powerful than a High One!" Windsong protested, a bit annoyed with his total and complete arrogance, although she was quite intrigued with this creature. Q, now fully reclined again, replied almost matter-of-factly, "Che're lutin , I could weave so much 'magic' at once, anytime I wish, that it would make a High One's head spin. Watch this." He stood abruptly, holding out his hand, and drawing close to her. A tiny seed had appeared within hisÊhand. He flashed a brief, dark grin to the seed, and, little by little it sprouted, and flourished, tiny green leaves unfurling, colorful, fragrant petals blossoming, and it rose, full of life. He looked at it for a second, his face unreadable. And then, suddenly-- -- it withered and blackened in an instant, crumbling into lifeless dust. He let the flower's remains sift to the ground. Windsong's eyes were wide in awe, in spite of herself, and Q, seeing the look on her face, felt inwardly pleased. "Could you teach me to do that?" she breathed. "I could teach you many things," he replied, trying hard to break his stare from her eyes... from her body... what was he thinking?! A little mortal, an elf! What was happening to him?! But she was so intriguing... he watched how her turquoise eyes would spark with child-like curiosity... how the light danced on her hair... how she wasn't afraid of him... and he wanted her. Wanted her more than anything, wanted to take her and keep her all to himself.... He stepped close behind her, whispering in her ear, like a Satanic disciple beguiling an angel into following him to the pits of hell. "I could take you away from all this, you know. Away from this planet, this very time... from this tomb your ancestors trapped you on, forcing you to stray from what you are... And you're curious, aren't you Windsong? There are wonders out there, wonders and nightmares. And I can bring you there, little elf. All you have to do... is ask me." Windsong stepped forward, and turned on him. "No," she said firmly. Q blinked. Was she mad? "You don't know what you're saying!" "Yes, I do," she replied, voice still firm. "That... that sounds great... but not now. Now, I have a duty to my tribe. Now is where I belong. You have to be content with the Now." He turned away from her. "You are very foolish." She approached him, and faced him. "Are you going to leave?" Q tried his best not to look at her. He didn't try hard enough, however. "No. Not yet." "No. Don't want to talk about it. Nothing you can do to *make* me talk about it." "It will make you feel better," Troi tried to reason to the belligerent entity, who had started to come around. "It always feels better to talk about it." She stepped closer toward Q, and he flinched. Troi shook her head. Progress had taken little more than half a step. The only real information she had gleaned was from his strange memory-send some days ago. "Please," said Q, curling up smaller, "let me be. Don't want to talk about it." Troi tried to delve into her calm center. "Why not?" "Frightening. The room. Don't want to think about it. Go away." The room. Troi felt a small pang of compassion. He was genuinely afraid, distraught, almost. "I know," she calmed. "It was frightening. Perhaps, though, it will help to talk about it... tell how you felt." Q buried his head in his hands. "Dark. Small. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe." Troi stiffened slightly. Was that a tear? Q continued. "Always... always closing in... they wouldn't let me go... they never would stop... wouldn't let me sleep... they always thought of something new to do to me..." He looked up at the counselor. "I said I was sorry. They kept me there anyway. Here, I'll show you." Troi tried to pull away quickly, instinctively, but the stories flooded her, and she clenched her fists in frustration, because there was nothing she could do... He slept in brief snatches, finding that he now needed sleep, he didn't know why. But they always woke him up. i hate it here don't know how long they have kept me here, it doesn't matter, i want to go home i find that....i miss my home. oh no The red spotlight, an all-seeing demon's eye, crept toward him with it's blood light, following his every movement with accuracy that was frightening. He scrambled away, trying to find refuge in some dark corner. But nothing escaped the light for long. It washed over him in red, as he huddled in the corner, shielding his eyes. please...please, not again, i beg of you, not again.......so tired...... His eyes started to close, beyond his control. "Wake up, Thirty-Six," came Sarhan's cool voice. please let me sleep.....there is nothing else i can tell you..... "Do not lie, Thirty-Six. We are not stupid. You have eons worth of knowledge inside your head that we would like you to share. Now please, wake up." so tired, though......AIEEE no :::whimper::: not that rib...don't kick me in that rib.... why are you doing this to me? what is it you want to know? "Just information. And how long you can go without sleep, if you happen to need it." Thirty-Six moaned softly. cruel.....you are cruel..... "Your idea of 'cruel', Thirty-Six, is not shared. Now, just answer some questions, and you can go back to your rest......Thirty-Six? Thirty-Six, do wake up." AUGGHHHH.....no, no more....... He spoke, struggling... it was almost a sort of sad irony that he who could have done anything, not long ago, was now exhausted, having trouble making coherent sentences. so tired....please...sleep...i need...i have to.....you made me tired with that....that device....and i can't live without sleep.....don't want to answer any questions..... He drifted off, and he now knew what peace was... it was dark and quiet... ...and it was shattered, along with his last, fragile nerve. He screamed. why?! why are you doing this to me?! don't hurt me anymore, don't ask me questions anymore, just leave me alone! AUGGHHH...... He curled up in pain, gritting his teeth, as blood flowed onto the floor, with Sarhan's voice floating to him, "There is no reason for this insolence, Thirty-Six." He paused. "Thirty-Six, wake up. This will be much more pleasant for you if you make the effort to stay awake." pleasant? He almost....*almost*...just laughed. you are torturing me, and you say it will be more *pleasant*? i am tired...and i hurt....but i'm not stupid...... no...wait, wait, no.....please, don't pick up that device....don't do that......i'm sorry, what do you want, just don't- He grit his teeth, feeling phaser fire go off inside of him, in the only, tiny defiance he could afford-- not to scream... Sarhan's voice resonated around him, and he tried, almost mentally, to clutch at it, like an anchor, so as not to sink into the oblivion that was overwhelming him, on the outermost fringes of the worst of the pain... "You have been naughty, Thirty-Six. Do you know how many species you have tormented? We have a complete list. There are many creatures that would like to make an end to you, you know. But we have saved you, for science. And if you do not like to be tested... you have no one to blame but yourself." It was so hard to hear, his ears were ringing, and there was a noise blocking the words, like screaming... his screaming? No, unfair, he had promised himself not to cry out again... "You are not a person, Thirty-Six. You know that now. You deserve this, you know. Do not be surprised-- you have chosen this fate, to become part of our science. Do you understand?" Sarhan spoke these words firmly, calmly, but at the same time, he seemed to be convincing himself that these utterances were true.. .because they were... weren't they? Thirty-Six convulsed spasmodically on the floor, and he was screaming, but his mouth was not open, and he was crying but there were no tears, and there were no wounds, but he could see his blood anyway, before his vision dimmed with the stars behind his eyes, and he closed them, and it didn't stop, it never stopped, and he opened his eyes wide again, because with the fading light, he understood, he understood it all too well, that it had never stopped, had never ended and had never begun, because everything was an endless circle of pain... * * * i claimed...i knew myself to be a god and now, it seems, i have nothing to believe in no one, that i can see, no one that i can hope for with the tiniest glimmer of faith has made the pain stop except, of course, the J'shen they have kept all of their promises they promised things would get worse, if i did not behave and they have because i am freezing....freezing because of that moronic device of wires and buttons......in agony because of a stupid black box.....so cold..... it's a bigger cell this time......not small, like before...:::shudder::: i refuse to think about it....... it's all so pointless, i see now......this stupid, fragile thing that humans call life....why keep it up? why bother? i cannot defend myself.....i have been reduced to a sniveling, broken toy that my tormentors amuse themselves with.....i have nothing.....i am nothing......all their fault....... Alone, shivering in his cell, Thirty-Six held up his hands, looking at them. look what you have reduced me to! :::sob::: you made me like this!..........why won't you let me go? i have apologized more times than i would wish to count i have screamed, i have cried, i have been broken these digits that i'm trapped with for the moment are numbing and stinging, and my teeth chatter so hard i can barely talk.......and i can't stop shaking...... and......i miss my parents..... so why? why are you keeping me here? He buried his head in his arms, trying to find some sort of warmth, seeking the opposite of this strange new thing they were forcing his body to feel.... let me go.....not fair...... Outside, hearing fragments of Thirty-Six's strange soliloquy through carefully hidden microphones that their test subject knew about all the same, Sarhan felt a strange, new sensation that he tried to push to the back of his mind, as best he could: Guilt. ======== Newsgroups: alt.fan.q Subject: Spectrum Part III (TNG, Q, ElfQuest) From: jjarrow@aol.com (JJ ARROW) Date: 12 Jul 1996 13:56:40 -0400 DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. Spectrum contains lots of torture. It also has love. If those things make you squeamish, don't read this. :) This story crosses over with ElfQuest; however, you don't have to read ElfQuest to understand this story. --- Spectrum, Part 3 "Q, you're staring at me." He seemed to make no attempt to remove his gaze, although, inwardly, he was trying very hard to. Recently having entered the cave, Windsong had found the thong in her shirt coming undone, leaving her partially exposed. She fumbled with the laces, tying it. Q's stare wasn't making it any easier, but she shrugged it off, remarking calmly, without looking up, "Desire isn't anything to be ashamed of, Q." "I don't desire you!" he snapped irritably, uncomfortable with the elf-woman's open, truthful manner, more used to subtle deceptions. She was blunt, and she cut to the truth very quickly. He drew up his cool cloak of arrogance, trying to keep it from getting holes. "Mmm hmm," she murmured, her tone wry, seeing that he kept staring at her just the same. Finished with her blouse, and satisfied, she grabbed her bow, and undid the thong that tied the bloody carcass of a skinned rabbit to the tip. "Want some?" she asked generously, ripping off a hunk. Q eyed the dead bunny disdainfully. "There are advantages to not having to eat." Windsong shrugged, and tore at the rabbit. Watching her wolf down the raw meat, Q raised an eyebrow and added, "I consider eating a vile habit... but if you must, you might want to try to chew and swallow." The elf-girl gave him a look. He rolled his eyes. "As I said before, Song, I don't desire you. I couldn't care less about the pathetic goings-ons with mortal creatures. In fact, it would please me if you would leave." He added, a tad more forcefully, "Now." Windsong swallowed with a gulp, and looked up at him. "Why?" Archly, he replied, "I'm omnipotent. I don't need a reason, or a why. I just *do*." She stood up. "Well, now you just *won't*. This isn't my cave to own, but it's not yours either. You don't order me around. I don't have to go anywhere." It wasn't exactly truthful-- she had to get back to the Holt sometime, or the others would go ballistic. But, despite all his arrogance and attempts at obnoxiousness, she actually didn't mind his company. He could be funny at times, and had strange, but wonderful stories... But this was starting to push her over the edge. "Why don't you make me leave, tough guy?" Her tone was hard, but their was a smile behind her words. Q, the all-knowing, didn't detect it. He stepped closer to her, fighting off those pesky urges to drag her off to the Delta Quadrant with him. "Because you're intelligent, Song. I find you slightly more evolved then the humans, who, even elsewhere, have hardly evolved above their bestial natures... even though you're eating raw meat like something furry. I believe you should make your own decisions." "Then I decide to stay here a little while longer," she said firmly. "You can't force me or flatter me out." She felt a bit triumphant, but half of her questioned, *Why stay, if he's going to be this despicable anyway? * "You can't just tell people what to do all the time. You have to bend, Q." How dare she tell him what to do? He quivered slightly with self-contained rage, as he drew himself up, making the most of his height. "I could kill you just by thinking about it," he hissed menacingly. "I'd like to see you try it," she replied darkly, with a growl, drawing her sword from it's sheath on her thigh. There was a moment of the blackest silence. And then, suddenly-- "You're not worth it," he hissed, with a sneer, and disappeared in a flash of light. Growling inwardly, sword back in her sheath, Windsong stomped off. He was such a jerk!!! And yet... she couldn't quite bring herself to hate him. There was something else about him... he made her laugh... he made the pretense of looking down on her, but she knew that he didn't consider her as beneath him as he would have liked her to believe... and something... something else... something she couldn't quite put her finger on... "AYOOOYAH!!" she called, Sunchaser running up to greet her, wet, smelling of river water, moss, and wolf cubs. "You went swimming, didn't you?" she asked, the sight of her wolf-friend bringing a bright smile to her face. "And dunked a few cubs, it looks like." She hopped onto his brownish back, heading for the Holt at a relatively low speed, lost in contemplation, as she rubbed Sunchaser good-naturedly behind his ears, reached under his head to scratch his chin. The same question, that she felt was the key to unlocking all her unresolved feelings knelled over and over in her mind, like tides crashing on a beach: Why had she saved Q in the first place? * Windsong swung her legs, seated on a tree branch, her gaze panning to the blue sky, and the glimmering daystar. She was up late, but it was so pretty... Q appeared suddenly beside, her, leaning against the tree trunk in a relaxed pose. It startled her, almost causing her to lose her balance and fall. "Are you done sulking?" she asked dryly, secretly glad he hadn't left for good, she still didn't quite understand why... "I wasn't sulking," Q sulked. Standing up straight quite abruptly, he began pacing the length of the branch, walking around Windsong. A normal human of his height and build would have lost their balance and fallen; but, then again, Q was Q, not human, and from the way he moved, he might well have been weightless. "When it comes to how humans procreate, I find it inherently disgusting. Vulcans only do so when they have to, like a feline in heat. Klingons bite and throw things at each other... which doesn't really surprise me. I don't even want to talk about the Ferengi. I could go on. Each of these rather limited species have their own mental and physical concepts of love, however limited, which I have tried my best to understand, believe me." He paced back in Windsong's direction, and stepped off the branch, floating behind her. "But tell me, my little lutin : what exactly *is* love?" "I thought you said you knew everything?" Q rolled his eyes. "So I exaggerated. The universe is larger than you could ever dream. But... tell me..." "I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "I don't think anyone could give you a real answer. Love is..." She searched for the words to express her thoughts. Much harder than Sending. "When you love someone, you miss them when they're gone... you care about what happens to them, and you don't want anything bad to happen to them. You like them exactly the way they are, and you don't try to change them. You... you want to be with them. You're happy when the person you love is around. I...I think that's a little of what love is... " Her voice trailed off, a bit unsure of herself. Seeing that he had stepped beside her on the branch, she asked tentatively, "Q? Do you miss me... when *I* leave?" "I am above such concepts as loss-- as 'missing' someone," he evaded carefully. "Oh," she replied, slightly confused. "Well, I'll be seeing you... I guess." She jumped down nimbly, landing softly on both feet on the ground, dashing back to her Holt. The immortal entity suppressed a cry of "Wait! Don't leave yet!", mentally scolding himself. What was wrong with him? He remembered carefully holding back his grin that usually emerged whenever he appeared by her. Could it be... of course it couldn't... that he actually *enjoyed* being with her? Of course not... it was just amusement, wasn't it, a small feeling of amusement when he "visited", because it couldn't possibly be that he *looked forward* to being with her, right? Right?!? No, that wasn't it at all... it could never have been that... sure, she was an attractive mortal, but it was the physical appearance, and that was all, that was all it could have been... But... he felt... just a tiny bit, a feeling that had started to grow in this replica of a human heart when she had left moments ago... just a fraction of a feeling... He missed her. * Q appeared in a flash of silent sound, peering into the tree hollowed by elfin magic, where Windsong slept. He stepped inside, invisible to all but himself. Finally, painfully, he found that he had come to grips with at least some of his feelings, feelings he tried to keep hidden to even himself... ARRGHHH! How he wanted her! Even now, he missed the sweet sound of her laughter, her straight-forward, honest voice that was strong yet gentle, her bright, curious turquoise eyes... He actually missed her. Hungered for her, even though he had never felt hunger. Here she was, right in front of him, and he couldn't have her! He wanted to touch her, to keep her, so badly... He stayed his hand. He couldn't permit himself to even think such things. It wasn't right, it was sick... But who gave a damn about right?! It wasn't fair! So painful, to stay calmly, and watch her, watch the light falling on her lovely hair, watch her graceful movements, and force himself to become blind. He remembered, in skewed fragments, bits and pieces of his three days of slipping in and out of unconsciousness... her bright eyes, watching him, acquiring a look of concern after a time... giving him something bitter, that he could barely taste, causing the chills to finally stop... a strange animal, a wolf, looking at him curiously with glowing yellow eyes... water trickling down his burning forehead... She had cared for him. She had brought him almost totally back to health. She hadn't left him to die, as so many others would have... an image of the Calamarain popped into his mind for a fraction of a second. He gazed upon her quiet form, illuminated slightly by the light of the rising moon. He couldn't *take it* anymore!!!!!! A mad gleam sprang into his eyes. He could kill her. Yes. It all seemed so simple now, so plainly laid out... Just snap his fingers, and she could disintegrate into nothingness... or even better, she could never have been born. Yes, it would be so simple... there wouldn't be this constant want, this constant need, because she wouldn't be here, there would be nothing for him to want... All he had to do was snap his fingers -- less, even. Just think about it. Think about it, just desire her demise, and she would be gone forever.... Q grit his teeth. *So weak, am I,* he thought bitterly. *I can't... I could if I wanted to... but... I don't want to...* Sighing in disgust at compassion, at the whole concept of love -- and, most of all, at himself-- Q vanished. * Q looked up, almost slightly relieved, seeing Windsong enter the cave, jarring him out of his thoughts. He lowered his head slightly, feeling weighed down, somehow. He couldn't take this anymore... not again... "Why are you here?" he demanded flatly. Windsong's voice was still bright. "Just making sure you didn't get another spear stuck in your gut," she teased. Poorly hidden desperation shot through his tone. "I don't need your protection! I can take care of myself! I am not a mewling infant, and I don't need the aid of a little elfin woman." He turned away. "Why do you insist on meddling? Can't you leave me be?" Windsong approached him, a hurt expression in her eyes. "Pardon if I was actually concerned about your well-being, Q." She tried to let her sarcasm cover her injured feelings -- she prided herself on not being a wussy cub. The attempt didn't work too well, however. "I don't need your concern," came his toneless reply, "nor your patronizing. Just leave." The young elf-woman sank down, seating herself on a boulder. Hot tears pricked at her eyes, and she willed herself fiercely not to cry; she was strong, she didn't need to bawl at everything, she hardly ever cried, she was strong, she was strong... ohh, what was wrong with him? What was this emptiness that filled him, that forbade him to care about anything? Why....she was strong, she was strong... Q looked up, hearing a tiny noise escape the creature who was his closest thing to a friend. He stood from his relaxed lounge, and approached her carefully. Her eyes were pink, and tiny, salt-filed tears slid down her face. His stony facade crumbled a bit. She was crying. Why was she crying? He wanted her to leave, he hadn't wanted to make her cry... He didn't like watching her cry. What were you supposed to do when someone was crying? Something comforting, perhaps... but he wasn't particularly experienced at all in making someone else feel better... His mind racing, he put a hand on her shoulder(he was touching her!)and the other stroked her soft hair, very gently. "I saw that human spear you, and I could have run away," she cried, clenching her fists in frustration, "but I didn't! I helped you, because I didn't want you to die! I *cared* about you! I came here everyday, and I still do, just to make sure you're not hurt, shot full of arrows, or something... You occupy all my waking thoughts! I lie to my friends to come see you, because I consider you a friend, even after you act like some jerk! And I thought you were happy to see me, too!" She choked. "But you don't appreciate anything! Not kindness, not friendship... nothing!" "And you feel justified to be upset?!" Q almost shouted, spreading his arms wide. "I want you, little Song, and I can't have you! I see you all the time, and I can't touch you! You could never comprehend how I feel! I can't stand this anymore!" Windsong sniffled. "And is it so bad, wanting me?" Q tried to reel in his feelings, tried to keep a rein on them once again. His voice gained a portion of calm. "It's disgusting. It isn't right. I can't-- I am Q. I am above that." He was clearly struggling. "You are just a little mortal; you're just some little human female with pointed ears. And I... can't..." His voice trailed off, as he searched, in vain, to express what he was saying. Disbelief of his values chewed at him, like a wolf cub at a bone. Windsong managed a slight smile, her tears drying. "And, whether you want me or not, this is all your decision? I don't have a say-- you decide to turn your back on these rules, then I just follow you? I don't think so." She paused thoughtfully. "Take off your shirt." "WHAT?!" "The top of your yoon-a-form thingy. Take it off." Q rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know what a shirt is, Song. What I'm asking is-- why? Unless this is some elfin ritual that will keep you from bawling again." "You said you like me. I have to see if I like you. I want to see if you have muscles." He folded his arms. "So I have to meet your standards of physique? Funny, I thought *someone* said that love had to do with missing someone when they leave." Windsong sighed with a measure of exasperation. "Well you can't see anything under that thing." Q muttered to himself, "Tell that to Troi." He smirked. "Although I'm sure Will the Walking Hormone doesn't mind her attire in the least." He quickly focused his gaze on Windsong, seeing her eyes widen. **Windsong! Windsong, a hunt is on!** "The others are Sending for me," she said quickly, making for the door. "A hunt." She was halfway out the cave entrance, when-- "Wait!" He couldn't stand for her to leave so soon, not after this... Never had he felt such a need in his life; it almost scared him... (but, no, he was Q, he could never be scared, no, just... on the verge of panic) Windsong turned, and moved close to him, looking up at him with those bright, turquoise eyes. "Does this mean you miss me?" Q opened his mouth to speak, but for the first time in his ancient lifespan: he didn't know what to say. It was a first. "Well, this means I'll miss you," she said sweetly, and standing on her utmost tiptoes, for the fleetingest of brief seconds, she touched her lips on his. And then, she was gone. And, for an instant, before his revulsion and disgust at this thing he was supposed to hate set in, before he could feel nauseous, like he conditioned himself to-- -- he found, that... for an instant... he liked it. Deanna Troi rocked back and forth gently, her eyes wide from the shock of Q's trauma. That much mental anguish hurt her, and she seethed silently at the J'Shen, not only for their doing that to Q, but for their doing that to anyone. She looked at Q, shaking her head. He curled up against the wall, a broken man, a cracked shell of what he used to be. Thousands, millions of years of living and venturing through space and time had been undone in a time that was painfully short. She approached him, and he did not back away this time; perhaps he had the feeling that this person would not harm him, now. "You don't have to be afraid anymore," said quietly. "No one here is going to hurt you." It was a half truth. Sure, people here *wanted* to hurt him, but they weren't going to. He eyed her suspiciously. "This is the truth?" Troi nodded. "I'm trying to help you, Q." Q chuckled mirthlessly. "No one wishes to help me." He closed his eyes, lapsing back into his own little world. Troi sighed in exasperation... he wasn't making this any easier... "Q..." she started, her tone a little louder, a little more testy, and sounding almost like the impatient of voice of a certain alien that loved to hurt him so... Q's eyes snapped open, and he hunched his shoulders. "I'm awake, see, no more hitting..." Troi bit her lip, apologizing silently, when she realized something touching her mind. "What are you--" Q looked especially distraught. "I didn't mean to!" He buried his head in his hands, bracing himself for something, anything. Troi sank to her knees, as images hit her brain. It was too much... They had lowered the room temperature. They had heard him through the microphones, heard him beg them not to, monitoring him through their black shiny box, seeing his body's heat capacity drop. Heard him say something they didn't want to hear him say, heard him answer with silence their probing, curious questions. They lowered the room temperature anyway. And they left him like that for hours, choking on the breath that he could now see, his lips tinted a bluish shade, curled up tightly, his knees drawn to his chest, his teeth chattering. They left him that way. :::cough::: let me out please :::gasp::: :::shivering::: so cold.... let me out can't answer your questions, can't even talk make it stop please please...d-don't do this to me....don't l-leave m-me like this..... And after a while, they finally let him out, and dumped his shivering body into a corner of the lab, the warmth of the room unthawing him slightly. But the chills never went away completely. why??!!!! came a hoarse cry, called out into the silence. i used to understand everything, but I don't understand this!!!! ...cold....... you don't need to know anything! i am here just to amuse you! isn't that the truth, J'Shen?! your tiny, primeval brains find it pleasant to watch me writhe in agony! An unseen voice replied, "Articulate, Thirty-Six." A new line of blood appeared on his shivering, cold body. Thirty-Six moaned softly, and looked at his arm, at the new incision, that he could see through the shredded sleeve of the wine-colored uniform. The cold penetrated him more strongly, very abrupt and sudden, and he cried out in spite of himself. "How long do you think it will be, Thirty-Six?" came a disembodied voice that was unmistakably Sheia's. "How much longer, do you think, until your body cannot create anymore heat to keep you warm? How much more can you stand, Thirty-Six?" He couldn't answer, couldn't answer because he couldn't work the words around his chattering teeth. But he knew, and mused, not much longer, i'm afraid. After a few icy moments..." Since you won't answer, I suppose we will have to continue this test, and find out." a trick! you tricked me! no use...can barely talk, can't stop these teeth long enough to even say it......hate this form, i never want to see it again...if i ever visit the Enterprise again, i will have to see them as a flea or something.....i could irritate Data's little cat that way...... :::moan::: *if*.....i ever visit....... but they will never let me free...... asking....they're asking me something.....the cold...it went away a little......asking me things again......not fair! they don't play fair! can't...can't answer, if i answer wrong, they'll so something to me...but..if i keep silent much longer, they will anyway......wish they would stop asking questions...... huh? what did they say...about...a virus? no! no, not a virus! no, please! i don't know what it will do to me! don't do this, have some mercy! :::shaking::: mercy...you J'Shen don't know the meaning of the word He doubled over, his weakened frame racked with coughs. help! can't...:::cough,cough::: hard to breathe! :::wheeze::: help me.... "Could you please tell us a bit about where you came from?" asked Sheia, her voice emotionless. Sarhan turned, his icy blue eyes focusing on his partner. "Why did you do that?" He turned back to the observation window, watching his experiment try to suck in air, a wheezing sound coming from his throat, sounding like the cries of many children, all howling in an imperfect unison. The J'Shen observer winced. He remembered having a respiratory illness as a child, exhibiting symptoms like Thirty-Six's, below, before a scientist like him had cured it. "Stop it, Sheia." Sheia looked at him strangely. :::gasp:::gasp:::gasp::: air....need air....:::cough:::gasp::: Sarhan tried another tactic. "Let's let him rest a bit, friend. He can't....and won't...tell us anything useful now." Sheia didn't presume to think his comments any more sane than before, but she obliged grudgingly. :::gasp::: ahh.....never again will i take oxygen for granted...... Sarhan shook his head, looking away. Sheia turned to him, satisfied. "Let's let him rest a bit," she echoed. By the way, in case I forgot to post it(which I did...): All parts of Spectrum are Copyright1996, JJ Arrow. Yada yada yada. I think. :) Yeah, eat that Pocket Books. Watch in horror as I violate your guidelines. -JJ ---------------- "A man without his pants leaves little room for explanation." Ramos, LEGEND "We're Starfleet officers, Mr. Kim. Weird is part of the job." Janeway, ST: VOYAGER ======== Newsgroups: alt.fan.q Subject: NEW: Spectrum, Part IV (TNG, Q, ElfQuest) From: jjarrow@aol.com (JJ ARROW) Date: 19 Jul 1996 16:10:08 -0400 Just finished editing the grammar problems, and some dialogue, but not much of a big change. Thanks for the support, all of you. :) DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. Spectrum, Part 4 Having been allowed to rest a bit, Thirty-Six found himself lost in introspection. And it was introspection in the most lonely sense of the word. Preoccupied with staying alive, the realization of how utterly alone he felt suddenly hit him like a brick. There were no mental voices inside his head to comfort him, no soothing collective mental undertones, running under his main thoughts like a clear, underground stream. He felt totally cut off, isolated. He didn't understand... why didn't they come for him? Even attempt to reach him? He couldn't reach them, but they could reach him... They must not know. That was what he convinced himself. Somehow, in their omniscience, his "family's" knowledge was blocked. Something must have been keeping this factlet hidden from their huge, collective minds. Yes, that must have been it. He cringed, as Sarhan entered the lab. This was one of the worst punishments... worse, almost equally worse, than having been human... because he could have understood it, could have *justified* it, even, had they been one of his numerous enemies, torturing him to nurse a mad vengeance. But... these J'Shen didn't even *know* him. The tirades about his crimes to the universe were nothing more than that- hollow excuses. It seemed that they actually *believed* that what they were doing was benefiting their sciences. Sarhan palmed the little device, pushing back the strange new feeling that was plaguing him, this "guilt" sensation, pushed it back far away, so it would not bother him, would not interfere with his work. Thirty-Six had information. He could give them information, and they, in turn, could cure him from these traits that were so anti-social. They were helping him. "Thirty-Six," he started quietly, "do you see the device that I hold in my hand?" Thirty-Six coughed and looked up. yes, i see your instrument of fun. "Do you know that, while we cannot control what you think, we can send images to your brain? If we wish it, you will see what we want you to see. I can control your five senses right now. Do you understand?" Thirty-Six opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He knew exactly what they were going to make him see... and,if such was possible, he became almost... smaller. don't do it, J'Shen.....don't..... Sarhan touched a few smooth buttons lightly, and the visual impulses flew to his subjects nerves, uncoding themselves into images that burned themselves into his brain, went at light speed to his eyes. That strange feeling, that sense of something more than panic that sent his heart pounding, his pulse beating rapidly, causing him to break out into a cold sweat... he felt this again. :::scream::: Sarhan watched Thirty-Six curl up into a fetal ball, trembling, and forced himself not to turn away. His voice coming out as a whisper, he asked, keeping himself calm, "It's dark, isn't it, Thirty-Six? Can you breathe this recycled air? Are the walls terribly close together?" The only answer he received was a heart-rending scream that ripped through his very soul. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't stop, he just couldn't stop... just a few button pushes, and Thirty-Six's terror would have ended, but he couldn't make himself- permit himself- to do it. Thirty-Six whimpered. AUUUGHHH!! How could I have run outta room?! Oh, well, guess I'll have to break it up... -JJ ---------------- "A man without his pants leaves little room for explanation." Ramos, LEGEND "We're Starfleet officers, Mr. Kim. Weird is part of the job." Janeway, ST: VOYAGER ======== Newsgroups: alt.fan.q Subject: NEW: Spectrum Part V (TNG, Q, ElfQuest) From: jjarrow@aol.com (JJ ARROW) Date: 1 Aug 1996 21:35:42 -0400 Sorry about the wait, folks... DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. Spectrum contains lots of torture. It also has love. If those things make you squeamish, don't read this. :) This story crosses over with ElfQuest; however, you don't have to read ElfQuest to understand this story. Spectrum, Part 5 "Windsong, where ya' going?" The elf woman froze, turning slowly, the sun, just starting to set, now at her back, as she saw NoStars peep out of a tree, rubbing the dust out of his eyes. She was up early. "Uh... um... hunting. Sunchaser's hungry." "Oh," NoStars replied groggily, his sleepy mind forgetting that Sunchaser had gorged himself last night on part of a huge fork-horn that the tribe had brought down. He settled back into his hollow. Windsong bit her lip. *I hate lying to you, my friend.* A human might have felt guilty the rest of the day, but the wolf-blood flowing through her brought with it the wolf's ways - make a mistake, forget about it. Live in the Now. She giggled silently, watching Sunchaser hunt ravvits through his dreams, paws twitching, and she roused him gently. **Come friend. Come see other friend.** As her furry companion obliged, he whurfed derisively. **More than friend.** Windsong grinned at Sunchaser, running her hands through his ruff of brownish-gray fur. "You're smart, you know that?" Still wolf-back, she peered into the cave. No one. She would have scented him if he were playing games. They trotted toward a small hill that dropped off sharply, but not for any noticeable distance. Climbing down, she smiled, as Sunchaser loped after a rather large butterfly. Suddenly, her ears pricked. Did the butterfly just giggle? It must have been crickets. She focused her attention on the setting sun. You-know-who appeared beside her in a flash of light and sound. She smiled, the sinking sun's tail of fiery color reflecting in her liquid, turquoise eyes. Snuggling against him, she murmured, "Isn't it pretty?" Q regarded her strangely, watching her gaze, enchanted, at the setting fireball. His eyes rose to see the same sights, and his expression became quizzical. "It's just the planet spinning away from it's satellite, and light refracting off moisture and dust. Child's play." She continued gazing at the sinking daystar, having not a clue as to what in the moons he was talking about. "Magic," she whispered. Q rolled his eyes. Stillness reigned for a few moments, as Windsong watched the sun, and Q watched Windsong. How could she be so fascinated with such a simplicity of nature? He had seen things far more extraordinary than this, a mere sunset... and yet... He tried seeing how Windsong saw... watched the red orb of a sun sink lower and lower, hugging the horizon to itself like a mother to it's child, painting behind it pinks and oranges and purples and slight tinges of blue, giving way to the shine of the first star to appear. Magic. Tenderly, he put his arm around her, carefully; she was so small... he was almost afraid that if he was careless, he would break her. As the red ember became a half disk around the darkening plain beyond, almost abruptly, he spoke, turning to her, looking at her in askance, "'Song?" Her eyes half-closed in peaceful bliss, she murmured, "Mmm hmm?" "Tell me... how is it that elves die?" She wasn't afraid of death at the moment; didn't find the query morbid in the least. "We die... how any other creature dies, I guess." Eyes still on the dying ember of a daystar, he continued, "Hmm, yes, I knew that. However... when your kind dies, your core, your very life-force... what you would call the 'spirit'... it flies where it will, yes?" "Yes..." He paused for a moment, and then--"'Song... when your spirit leaves it's shell... will it remember... me? Will *you* remember me?" She looked at him curiously, his face unreadable, and she managed a half-smile. "I'll try. Will you remember me?" Deadpan, he replied, "The Q only die by unanimous request." "But... Timmorn's blood, I hope nothing does, Q, but... what if something bad happens to you?" Q chuckled unpleasantly. "Che'ere lutin, nothing bad will happen to me." He hung limply in the restraints, shivering. It was almost as if he had tacitly dared them to try and take away even more of his freedom. And they had. The restraints glowed around his wrists and torso, binding him to the cool wall, a few inches off the ground. He moaned softly. Shadows rimmed his bloodshot eyes, caused from being dragged from his moment's peace, often violently, so, so many times; the shirt of the uniform was now a deeper shade of red. so hard to resist so, so hard especially when they promise things like sleep (so hard when they promise things) tired want to sleep they never let me....always wake me :::shivering::: to speak the truth is to hurt and it would be so easy.....so, so easy, to say what they want me to say, think what they wish me to think.....the torment will stop, if i break but....i can't.....not yet....just, hold out a little longer (but how much longer can i hold out? how much longer is longer?) no one should fool themselves there is no feeling of triumph when you resist, no feeling of victory, however slight -- and if there is, it's drowned out by the sound of your own screaming anyway it never stops when you resist when you fight, you hurt and hurt and hurt, and it does not end and will not end until you give up but i can't do that but.....it's so hard to resist..... He barely heard the door hiss open, hours later, as Sheia strode in quite calmly. "Wake up," she said, voice both quiet and firm. He lifted his head weakly. That voice alone was enough to wake him now, even though he had drifted off but a moment ago. how many days? Sheia nodded in understanding. How long in the restraints. "Two and a half." He closed his eyes and shivered, swallowing hard. how.....how many more? "None." The restraints clicked open, and he collapsed to the floor. sleep....please.....please "After you answer a few questions, Thirty-Six." can't stay awake.....please, let me.....just a few minutes... He was now upright, slumped against the wall, carefully rubbing his chafed wrists, his chest aching, as she leaned closer to him, her voice cajoling, coercing, full of an almost-mock sympathy. "You're exhausted, aren't you, Thirty-Six? And yet you fight us. You remain stubborn. It's hard, isn't it? Resisting, when you know that by simply answering some brief things you could rest, in total peace... It would be so easy to answer, so easy to be cooperative, because you're ever so tired, aren't you Thirty-Six, you can barely keep your eyes open, and wouldn't it be lovely to just lie down on something soft and sleep peacefully? Wouldn't that be nice?" oh yes...that would be nice.....yes, it's so clear, just answer what she wants, and i can sleep.... no! no, can't......can't do it....have to hold on...a little longer "You don't have to resist anymore, Thirty-Six. Just answer us, help us in our science, it is all we ask. All we ask you to surrender to is peace." no! can't. Her violet eyes penetrated him, and he felt strangely exposed. "It is your choice, Thirty-Six. It always was. You acted out the events that led to your coming here. And now, you can choose again- peace, or more of this? You know what you have to do to obtain peace." and this -- this is how you obtain things....by torture? "Irrelevant." She composed herself, her face completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever. It was almost frightening, to see a face blank as stone, devoid of sympathy, mercy. "What is it you choose? An end to this? Or will you remain stubborn?" His scarred mind interpreted her words in the only way he could, his eyes flashing with desperate thought. :::cough::: can....can i go home? If he answered her queries? She considered his request, weighing the factors carefully. Unthinkable. Never. "Yes." home.....bliss....my powers.....peace.....i...i could go home..... why?! why has she promised me such a thing?! this is a cruel game....the rules are insidious...... surely....surely, they wouldn't mind if i told them a small tidbit of information...just answered one little question, an irrelevant fact....after hearing all i've been through(hearing, hearing from *me*, because they don't know, they don't know or they would have helped me)...after knowing all the torture, all the torments...surely, they would not be upset with me....i....i just want to go home....if they knew how desperate i am, they wouldn't care...would they? home......i have to go home, if i stay here, i will be tortured until i die....*if* i die...:::shudder::: so confused.... His mind warred with itself, the scars of fear and pain reopening, the deeply layered thoughts dividing into factions, the battle showing up in his half-closed, flickering eyes. His eyes became desperate. home? you promise.....you will let me go? "Yes." :::shivering:::....home, want to go home......:::cough::: .....what do you want to know? Sheia smiled. She had him. Right on the edge. She gave herself a mental pat-on-the-back. "Where do you come from?" i....the....i.....(don't don't tell her, just hold out a little longer, you can hold out a little longer...resist! resist, damn you) .....Q Continuum Sheia smiled, hands folded neatly, the ebon device stowed carefully in her lab coat pocket. "Very good, Thirty-Six. Very, very good." His eyes brightened. home? now? i can go home? She stood, looming above him calmly. "No." He stared at her. No. No. No. No. The word resonated throughout his brain, bouncing and echoing throughout his mind. His world shattered. :::howl::: you promised me!!!!!! you PROMISED!!!!!!!!!!!!! "I lied to you, Thirty-Six. Plain and simple." He broke down, buried his head in his hands, racked with hoarse sobs. :::sob::: she promised she promised me :::sob::: home i want to go home let me go, please :::sob::: let me go i trusted you!!!!!!!! :::sob::: Trapped inside a hell that he felt doomed to eternally, Thirty-Six rocked back and forth very gently. And he cried. He knew that they were watching him. Knew that every time he was close to her, they were watching anxiously. And they were worried. Because they knew that if he decided to up and move to this two-mooned world, there would be nothing that they could do about it. Not for lack of trying, of course... Q glared at the Q2. "What do you mean, 'I can't go back there'?" He folded his arms. "Honestly, do you think you can stop me? Amusing." Q2 sighed. "I didn't say 'can't'. I said *shouldn't*. But it could come down to 'can't'." Q's mouth quirked into a cynical smile. "Really, what are you going to do?" In exasperation, Q2 replied, his voice toneless, "This." Q was frozen. Like that was stopping him. "Don't even try it," he snarled uncharacteristically, and disappeared. Q2 didn't have to guess where. He sighed, deciding he had to go lie down, or something. Q smitten. It was too much... They had tried. Oh, how they had tried. He would pace and pace and pace, mentally and physically, wondering where she was and what she was doing and how she was doing it, and every detail of her that he could possibly think of filled three quarters of his brain, with the last quarter of his brain saying how this was wrong wrong wrong... He would turn, quickly, in the night, and she wouldn't be there; he would stop talking, and listen for her voice, for her reply, and it wouldn't be there; he would reach out in the evening or day or night or wherever or whatever or whenever he was, and he couldn't reach her, couldn't feel her touch, because she wasn't *there*...... So he left. And this time, they really, *really* couldn't do anything about it. Windsong sat on a boulder in the cave, remembering, when she heard that sound behind her that heralded Q's arrival. She smiled, her eyes wide in surprise. "Where have you been all th-" Abruptly, totally unexpectedly, he grabbed her and held her close, and yes, yes, he need this he needed this he needed this............He had scorned loneliness and love and affection and comfort until *he* had felt it and *he* had *needed* it.......Lonely, in a collective, a continuum of the universe's guardians for eons, and he was *lonely*, inconceivable, but it was *true*, it was *true*....how he loathed the truth, how painful it was, the truth.....but he couldn't hide anymore.... His embrace almost crushed her, as she heard him whisper desperately in her ear, "Come with me, come with me 'Song, let me take you with me, let me take you away..." Revolting, that he had sunk this low, to actually *needing* to be near her all the time, every waking minute(and he was always awake)....but the need was stronger than before......but he wouldn't say it. "I Love You." It was sickening to the point that it made him want to vomit from the cloying cute sweetness of it(although he didn't eat). He wouldn't say it, never ever ever........ **I missed you,** she Sent. **I mis- ......you were lost. You were lost to me.** It was only marginally better. Windsong's turquoise eyes sunk to the ground. She couldn't admit to him how hard it had been to remember him. The future and the past became tangled within her mind like snarls in a wolf's pelt. Dreamberries helped her remember, with their purplescent visions, both hazy and clear - but other than that.... But now he was back! Her voice became softer. "I.... I thought you weren't coming back. Sometimes...I thought you were dead." "You elves...ever the optimists." She tilted her head upward, her face full of questions. "Are you here to stay?" He did not answer. Windsong grinned and took it as a yes. * Q propped himself up on an elbow and gasped. Windsong rolled over and turned to him, catching her breath, her blue-green eyes laughing. She giggled. "You're older than the first High Ones, and you've never joined?" "Not *this* way. What do you take me for, lutin, a human monk?" Monk? What was that? "The 'mortal way', you mean?" she teased. The immortal grinned like a crocodile. "Come here." > * The moons had waxed and waned, cycle after cycle. Windsong found him relaxing on the top of the cave, staring at the stars. This isn't like him, she thought. He's been acting strangely. Look at his eyes.....I remember my eyes looking like that once.... I was just a cub....and I had lost my way. I was so afraid....but the fear went away....and I missed my family so much... Q? Homesick? Not quite on top of the rocks, she clenched her fists. She knew he knew she was there, but she didn't care. It's not fair! He can't stay here forever....he'll be really sad that way, I know he'll deny it and deny it, and then we'll get in some big argument about it....but he won't be happy. But I want him to stay! She looked up at the same stars that he was seeing. Timmorn's blood, why can't I be selfish, just this once? I need him, too...... "You're going to leave, aren't you?" she asked quietly. You just got here! she cried silently. He sighed. He couldn't believe it had happened, that he had become the things he had disdained, and that which most reviled him, he had suddenly found...wonderful. He replied finally, his gaze still steadily on the stars that he knew so well, "'Song... you know that it would be no greater bliss to me than to make love to you endlessly, and to be with you for more 'eights' than your elfin brain could ever hope to count...." He gave no outward sign of his silent fight, his facade as cool and nonchalant as it had ever been. ".....however....." She moved closer to him; she felt so comfortable with him, why was this happening?! She calmed herself, and forced her mind to see reason. "You miss the stars. You miss your home." He couldn't- wouldn't -answer. Instead, he stood quickly, abruptly, as was his way, and fought against kissing her. It would have been sickeningly cliche. "Remember me, Windsong," he whispered softly in her ear. She tilted her head upward...this was it...she had to see his eyes, windows to the soul, one last time- He was gone. She swallowed hard, clearing her tight throat, and tilted her head back, and howled... "OWWWOOOOO!" Moments later, Sunchaser threaded through the brush like a silent shadow, sensing her mood. **Windsong sad?** He tilted his furry head to one side. Wetness stung her eyes, as she nodded, burying her head in his fur. * Seasons passed. Windsong moved out from under NoStars's arm, climbing out of the furs and out onto the branch, to watch the sunset, as she usually did, now. Last night, she had seen him, at the howl, when they passed around the dreamberries....she had almost forgotten, but not quite, there was still a lingering memory, sharp, like wind in the whitecold season. She tenderly smoothed the furs over her slumbering friend, moving out of the hole they had shared for turns. It wasn't as brilliant as always...just orange, this time, like the leaves now, in the dying time, pale orange, with the trees silhouetted, black in the distance. She jumped at a noise, and almost fell off the tree. Her head snapped around, and her turquoise eyes widened. "Miss me?" asked a voice so familiar yet so strange, that she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't still sleeping. "Q!" she cried, joy enveloping her. It made Q feel inwardly pleased. Windsong suddenly hushed, silently scolding herself, hearing NoStars stir. She peeked in, hearing him murmur groggily, "Whuh?" He snuggled back into his furs, murmuring sleepily, "...I wanna' pet the treewee...." Grinning like some sort of fool, he asked curiously, "Where's Fleabag?" Sunchaser was usually more devoted than this; he was usually awake with his elf-friend. Windsong's eyes clouded. "Q.... Sunchaser died eights of eights of eights ago." She paused. "....You've been gone a long time." He blinked. "I have?" The time hadn't seemed too long, to he for which time had a whole new definition. "Yes." Her heart perked back up quickly, yanked into the Now. He had come back! She wrapped her arms around him with no intention of letting go. "Q?" His eyes snapped open wide. Impossible. She couldn't be here, in this hell-- But she was. He could only stare, as she padded toward him, concern filling her eyes, as she tried to keep her voice soft, afraid of scaring him. He felt horrible, that she should see him in this wretched state. But she was here, she was *here*, and she *hadn't forgotten*... There had to be some merciful god out there, some benevolent, merciful creature that had taken pity on him, for this was a miracle, a beautiful miracle... He struggled to his feet, and held her... "You didn't forget me," he murmured, almost to himself. "You didn't forget me..." **No one will hurt you like this again,** she promised, her voice gentle, soothing his ravaged mind, her small hands on his shoulders, and every pain and fear seemed to ease... she was a bliss, touching gently upon his personal hell, and everything was so perfect Right Now, as he was filled with every sense of peace, wonderful, blissful peace, and he was going to hold her for the longest time and never ever *ever* let go He awoke with a start, and blinked. sweetest of dreams, he breathed. He kept his eyes open, watching the J'Shen enter. Sheia smiled. They just about had him. This was it... "We're going to *show* you something, if you wouldn't mind." of course i mind (have to make up for breaking, i'm worst than a human, i broke, worse...worse than Picard.....Picard didn't break.....i *will* hold out, I *will*, moronic J'Shen, they like to play God, don't they) wait...show me... no! no, I don't want to see! don't make me see! no She stood beside Sarhan, whose face had suddenly clouded, and slid her fingers across the black box. Thirty-Six blanched, and his face grew white. The visuals had started, pausing at intervals, streaming endlessly through his brain and to his eyes... The laboratory was silent for a few brief moments. Then get them off me! get them off! HELP! get them off, get them off! :::shudder::: He clawed through his hair, at his face, at his arms, at the invisible what-ever-it-was that was tormenting him, trying frantically to shake them. :::sigh::: gone Suddenly, his eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and he trembled, scrambling off into a corner and cowering. Sarhan wasn't successful in fighting off the impulse to ask, "What is it, Thirty-Six?" He felt his eyes of ice grow wider, in spite of himself. :::murmur:::: horrors Terrified, he shut his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the horrors behind them, as he covered his ears. It didn't work. no! stop! stop it! no more!!! please, PLEASE, stop it! stop the pictures! make them stop! There was silence for a moment, and Thirty-Six struggled to his feet, backing away from the horrors surrounding him. Sarhan sighed. He didn't care, this was his job, it wasn't getting to him, he didn't care about this experiment at all, just another test subject, just another test, it would be over soon- Then Thirty-Six screamed. It was unlike any other scream he had ever heard: the scream of seeing something so unbelievably horrifying, that it makes your greatest terror look like nothing. And he kept screaming. Thirty-Six sank back into the corner, white as a ghost, as he mumbled incoherently to himself, his eyes spinning around the room. Sheia turned to her male counterpart. "Sarhan," she asked, concerned, "are you quite all right? You look a bit pale." Sarhan did not answer, instead focusing on Thirty-Six, who was saying something, pleading something, very softly. don't make me see this.......not again, don't make me live this again please, i beg of you, don't make me live this over It was too late. Sarhan could not bring himself to turn away, although almost every part of him screamed to, except, of course, for that little lousy part, which was keeping his neck riveted in place, and his eyes locked on one spot. no....it's happening again.....the cruelest torment, the worst image.....please, turn it off....it's starting, turn it off! ...................... -JJ ---------------- "A man without his pants leaves little room for explanation." Ramos, LEGEND "We're Starfleet officers, Mr. Kim. Weird is part of the job." Janeway, ST: VOYAGER Content-ID: <0_19680_840979345@emout09.mail.aol.com.117717> Content-type: text/plain here's the last bit, for now. Bon appetit! :) Content-ID: <0_19680_840979345@emout09.mail.aol.com.117718> Content-type: text/plain; name="Spec6" DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. Spectrum contains lots of torture. It also has love. If those things make you squeamish, don't read this. :) This story crosses over with ElfQuest; however, you don't have to read ElfQuest to understand this story. Spectrum, Part 6 Q appeared in a flash of light and sound, inside Windsong's den-tree. "Surprise!" He blinked. She wasn't there. Strange, he had sensed her presence... Ah. The old game. He materialized at the cave, and peered around, about to tell her that it was a rather unoriginal place to hide -- but she wasn't there, either. This was getting bizarre. Where was his che'ere lutin ? He would still rather swallow broken glass than admit it, but he had missed her dearly. He turned, almost expecting to see her behind him, but she wasn't there. Had her tribe moved away? He hadn't been gone *that* long, had he? Besides, he felt her presence nearby... Walking this time, he came upon the clearing where she had found him. Here... he grinned. Right here. His empty heart slowly filled, as he reached out with his senses, trying to pinpoint where she was; he wanted to surprise her. But no, something very strange was going on... she was right here, right here , her presence was here, his rational mind said that he was right on top of her-- He froze, his eyes wide, as the horror of what he had just realized seeped into his brain. * He was right on top of her. * The truth hit him full in the face, as he paled, trembling slightly. He had come back too late, he was too late, he had come back far too late... Why?! Why hadn't he kept track of the time, why oh why hadn't he come earlier why?! A cry ripped through his shredded heart and up through his throat. "WHY?!?" He knelt on the ground, sifting his fingers through the dirt. "Why," he whispered to the earth, "why you? Somehow, I thought you would be different... that you wouldn't--" He ran a hand through his hair, as sudden, genuine anger flared in his chest. "Why did you leave me?!?!?!" He stood and screamed at the sky. "WHY?!?!" Sinking back to the earth, his mind ran around in circles, images and thoughts intertwining-- her touch... how could he have been such a moron, a day to him could have been a lifetime to her... why had he come so late... her eyes... her voice... her smile... it wasn't fair! it wasn't fair, she couldn't leave him like this, he needed her, he needed her... he had seen it happen to other mortals, she was mortal , but not her, not *her*... her laughter... 'Song, 'Song, don't leave why did *you* have to die? He couldn't even cry. He had the feeling that one was supposed to cry at moments like these, but he *couldn't* and he felt suddenly, inexplicably selfish, realizing that if he ever would cry, it would probably only happen when the tragedy was happening to *him*. Leaning toward the earth, a tiny part of him feeling uncharacteristic, but the rest howling in grief, he murmured softly, over and over, "Remember me, remember me, remember me..." "Stop it, Sheia." She turned to her partner. "What?" "Stop it." Sheia stared at him for a moment, as if looking at a strange, an almost hurt expression in her eyes. The expression vanished quickly, as she composed herself, cutting off the images, and replying coolly, "Sarhan, it appears that you are getting a little too attached to your work." She left, the door hissing shut behind her. Sarhan didn't bother to think about it right now, swallowing hard in the silence, memories of Thirty-Six's background -- and the particular incident in the image- coming back to him. Very softly, he asked, "...Did you... love her... Thirty-Six?" :::choke::: yes that....that was cruel thing....to show me that....to make me relive it what do you want from me, J'Shen? my freedom? you have that information? i doubt it you :::cough::: you obviously have enough information from my past, to have fed me.....that.........image so what do you want?? my *soul*? do you want me to sell you that, too? or will you try to break me, and then steal it? as you have stolen everything? He winced, feeling himself get hit across the face. Wiping blood off the corner of his mouth, he traced his finger around his chin. It wasn't smooth anymore; must be growing a slight beard. He hadn't expected to be wearing this form so long, and now he didn't have the means to retard the growth. He shook his head, imagining how horrid this form probably looked by now. to think i once took decent care of this thing His eyes rose to see a Sarhan who was clearly restraining a fair amount of anger, most likely at the recent remarks. "Your behavior is regressing, Thirty-Six," he said evenly. "I am hoping you will amend it, or otherwise..." Otherwise? otherwise i will have to scream? that is your answer for all my "problems"? He curled up, gritting his teeth at the hitting. Sarhan stopped, teeth clenched, blue eyes hard. "How does it feel?" ...hurts.... "Yes. It does. It's supposed to. That is how I *should* deal with you, whenever you behave unaccordingly." He spoke through clenched teeth. "I have been compassionate ." compassionate??? J'Shen....i wish you would learn what that sweet word truly means (can't believe i called it a weakness once) Sarhan swallowed his anger, and smiled thinly. "You're very close, you know. Closer than you think. You will yield." His eyes took on an eerie sheen. "They all yield, in the end." not me HIT not...me hunhh....that's...hunhh...that's what you want...to break me into tiny pieces....to leave nothing..OW...left of me but a shell....you say jump, and i jump :::gasp::: you want to feel powerful, don't you, J'Shen? (argh...pain pain pain hurts *hurts* ) to....to distance yourself...from me.... because...you're scared because when you get right down to it you're just like me huhnh....... ......................... Hands... he felt hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him very roughly. "Thirty-Six! Wake up! Wake up!" uhhnnnnn "Wake up!" He opened his eyes slightly, as hot redness flowed down one side of his head. "You lost consciousness," Sarhan explained, his voice calm. no more pain "I won't have to if-" please . Thirty-Six's eyes were filled with a strange sort of desperation, as Sarhan found himself staring. The fight had been beaten out of him. The J'Shen observer's heart wrenched in spite of himself. From jjarrows@aol.com Thu Dec 26 16:26:40 1996 From: jjarrows@aol.com (JJ ARROWs) Newsgroups: alt.fan.q Subject: NEW! :) Spectrum Part VII (TNG, Q, ElfQuest, h/c) Date: 27 Dec 1996 00:26:40 GMT Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Lines: 685 Message-ID: <19961227002500.TAA02188@ladder01.news.aol.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com X-Admin: news@aol.com Careful people, this one's loooong... :) DISCLAIMER: The main character, and all other Star Trek related things and characters belong to Paramount. All ElfQuest parts of the story are trademarked property of WaRP Graphics(all rights reserved). However, I made up the two J'Shen, and the main elf character. WARNING: Spectrum contains scenes of graphic torture. It also has love-- you know, the mushy stuff. If those things make you squeamish, than you may not want to read this read this. :) This story crosses over with ElfQuest; however, you don't really have to read ElfQuest to understand this story. Feel free to either post or email your comments/questions/flames, etc. Email: JJ ARROWs@aol.com Please!! :D :) -Part 7- "So." The blonde young man hunkered down on the cold ground next to his companion, glancing up for a moment at the sky; it was completely overcast, washed in grey, and there was a brisk chill in the air, accompanied by the scent of winter's onset. The other visitor simply stared straight ahead, past the brown field and dead leaves, straight into space. His tone was devoid of passion. "Go away." Q2 remained staring at the sky. "Sorry. No can do." He cast a sideways glance at his little brother. "You made her The Promise, didn't you?" Q's gaze remained straight ahead. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Sure you do." Q2 tilted his head towards him. "You know, you tell her that you can whisk her away, take her on a grand tour of every micro-sector of the multiverse, raise her consciousness. And all she has to do is accept." There was a slight stillness, and then a quiet laugh. "You know, I have made that promise before. Many times, as a matter of fact. Never... never before was I so captivated, so fascinated, so completely *taken* with a mortal creature... but I've made that promise before." Q shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly again. "They always say no." He swallowed, still staring into space. "And now she's gone." He paused, turning toward Q2, and saying quietly, "Dreadfully ironic, don't you think? The last time I saw her, I told her I'd stay forever when I got back. I told her I'd leave one more time, and then come back to stay interminably." The blonde Q opened his mouth, but Q kept talking. "I knew you would all be completely furious, but at the time, I didn't care. Hmmm." He turned his head back to its old view, chuckling again. "One of the universe's little jokes." "It's not that funny," Q2 replied, somewhat apologetically. He sighed. "That's the trouble with mortals. You just start to get to know them, and then they die on you." Q's voice was barely audible. "She didn't have to." Q2 made no reply. Counselor Troi floated free in the vast reaches of space, surprisingly unafraid. Able to breathe, and perfectly warm, she wondered what exactly she was doing here. Her mind wandered, as she mused upon her current failure. *I'm a COUNSELOR,* she cried to herself. *I've dealt with traumatized patients before. I SHOULD be able to DO this.* She shook her head. *He won't talk to me. He shows me what happened, but it's not enough.* A voice suddenly spoke in her head. *Don't do this to yourself, Counselor.* *I can't help it,* Troi replied. *I've failed.* The mental voice seemed to smile. *No, you haven't. Counselor Troi, do you know that he wouldn't have even talked to us?* *Why?* The voice went on. *You've tried harder than most would have. Not many hold very much patience for Q.* *It isn't enough. I--* *You got him to talk to you. You got him to TRUST you. There are people that have gone through horrible experiences like that, that cease to speak coherently, lose their sanity. You have made sure that Q is not one of them. But now it's time to let go.* *No. I can't-- * *Please, Counselor. Let him go--* *Where?* asked Deanna. *Where is he to go? Most people can talk to a family member or a lover, or *someone* to ease the pain, and make it less frightening. But Q arrived *here*, not at the Continuum, and there has to be a reason...* *There is still someone he can talk with... * *WHO?* *Let go, Counselor... Your battle has been fought, and won! There is still someone...* Troi sat upright in bed. "Amanda?" she whispered. Black... engulfing blackness, all-encompassing, swallowing up the bright light... devouring all and any hope of brightness, devouring any and all thoughts of freedom... "Surrender," the voice purred seductively. "Give up what is pointless." The terror was black and thick and palpable, extremely difficult to choke down. "Fat chance." The darkness swirled around him now, black and thick, behind and above him, and almost *through* him. Tendrils of blackness caressed him. "How does it feel to have one's role inexplicably... *switched * ?" the voice whispered. He lifted his chin slightly at the great consuming darkness. "You're wasting your time. Go away." "Surrender," the voice purred. "It's so easy... so very easy, extremely painless..." The unexplainable anger suddenly welled up inside him. "NO!" he screamed. "You can't take me. I won't do it. I won't give in to you." For an instant, there was a pinprick of light blinking in and out weakly in he darkness. He peered into the depths, trying desperately to reach out to it. A piece of the darkness broke off, making itself hard and substantial and smooth. The box swallowed every bit of light and twisted it, mutated it into pain. A hand ran itself along the box, as if giving it a gentle caress. He was paralyzed, as the lightning coursed through his form. "NO! NO! I won't do it! I won't!!!" A tendril of darkness smoothed over him gently, enfolding him almost lovingly. "But you already have," it purred. "You have always been a part of us..." And then, there was no more light. Q's body jerked awake, his eyes shifting shade to light blue, searching the room wildly, his gaze like that of a trapped animal. He heard a voice ask him something. "NO! Don't touch me!" Troi backed away cautiously, trying to keep her posture as unthreatening as she could. "I just wanted to know if you were all right," she explained gently. "You were having a nightmare, that's all." Troi watched Q nod, still huddled into himself and seeming frightened. She frowned in concern. Seeing that he seemed to need sleep, it didn't seem like Q was getting enough of it -- he slept, but not for very long. Troi noticed the dark circles under his eyes; Q's nightmares were tormenting him. The counselor walked back toward the doors, adding, "I'll be right back." *Although, it's not as if he's going anywhere,* Troi mused. Captain Picard stood in the door threshold, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Counselor? May I have a word?" Troi nodded, letting the door close, leaving her alone to speak with Picard. "Yes, Captain?" She could see that he was trying to keep as business-like a demeanor as possible. "How is he?" Troi looked up at him. "A little better, I think. Q is talking to me... but, honestly... I feel like an amateur, at this point." She shook her head, her eyes unable to meet Picard's gaze. "I've counseled many trauma victims, captain. This shouldn't be out of my league. I *should* be doing better than this, it's inexcusable..." "You're doing the best that you can," he replied, the gentle baritone of his voice somewhat reassuring. "That's what the problem is," Troi sighed. "Q doesn't know me personally -- he shows me what happened to him, but very little of how he actually felt. I'd recommend that he talk to someone he knows closely, so that this can be easier for him... perhaps someone from the Continuum." "Why did he appear on the Enterprise, instead of the Continuum in the first place?" Picard asked. "Surely his own family would be easier to talk to." "I don't know," Troi admitted. "Each time I try to ask him about that, he changes the subject, or he doesn't answer, and I really doubt that pressing answers out of him would be a good idea at all, especially since he's starting to trust me." The captain stayed silent a moment. "May I see him?" "It may even help. Be my guest." The doors fwooshed open as Picard entered. The captain turned to see Q staring at him. Despite Troi's reports, seeing Q in such a state was a complete shock. In most of the situations Picard had involving Q, either he or his crew were completely at mercy to the being and his capricious whims. The only time he could recall of Q ever needing *his* help was when he had been temporarily transformed into a human, and Picard hardly thought of that experience as traumatic, although, suddenly now as he thought of it in retrospect, he realized how it might have been for Q. But this... *this* was beyond all of Picard's imaginings. That sentient beings could be capable of such cruelty, Picard was painfully certain of. But he had never once thought of Q being on the receiving end. "You look like you could use some sleep," Picard remarked, after realizing he had just been standing and staring for the past five minutes. "I have nightmares," Q muttered, hugging his knees. Picard nodded, feeling more than a little sympathy, as he thought of the night horrors that still came to him about his experience with the Borg. "I think we all do, especially when we've just experienced or witnessed something terrible." Q looked up. "You don't have nightmares. *I* never saw any." Picard's eyebrows raised. So Q *had* been picking around in his brain from time to time. When the suspicion had come to him shortly after Q's first "visit", he had initially just dismissed it as paranoia. It seemed that Q had stayed out of his mind after the Enterprise's first incursion with the Borg, or Q would have known about his nightmares. Letting out a sigh, he decided to talk about it. It couldn't hurt. "Mostly about the Borg." Q's eyes widened for a moment. He rested his forehead on his knees then, and his voice came out muffled. "I'm sorry." He paused. "That wasn't what I wanted at all. I didn't want you to be raped by the Borg." Picard nodded in acceptance, but Q wasn't watching, as he continued. "I'm sure you're happy that I got what was coming to me." "*No.*" Q stared up at him in shock, his features twisting in anger. "What?" he snarled. "I haven't suffered enough, then?" Picard took a deep breath. " That isn't what I meant." "Do tell, then." Q's voice was so full of acid, it could have burned a hole through one of the bulkheads. Picard's voice was very firm. "Q, I think that their treatment of you was cruel and inhumane, and as far as I'm concerned, *no one* deserves that." The captain watched Q search his face in disbelief, probably looking for some sign of sarcasm of deception, although there was none to find. The entity sighed. "You can guess what I dream about." *********************** When Deanna Troi entered the rehabilitation room, she almost swooned from the waves of loneliness and self-loathing that washed over her. Q sat up against the wall, curled into a tight ball, his arms folded extremely tightly, his head on his knees. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" she asked. Q shook his head emphatically. "Why?" He did not speak. Troi took a deep breath, and tried once more, gently. "Q... maybe it would be a good idea to involve your family in this. To talk with them. I'm sure that they would be glad to help your through this." An anguished noise escaped Q, and he rocked back and forth. Troi's eyes widened. "What's wrong?" "Can't you understand? My family hates me!" Q closed his eyes tightly, continuing to rock back and forth, back and forth. Despite clinical detachment, despite the rule of Don't Get Involved, despite that this was *Q*, Troi felt something inside her heart break. "Oh, Q, your family doesn't hate you!" she exclaimed reassuringly. "I can never go back there," he insisted. "Why not?" She added as an afterthought, "Q, you've done nothing to be ashamed of. I doubt the Continuum would be angry if you told your captors anything. No one holds out through that kind of torture." "It doesn't matter. I can never go back there. Never. And you can't make me." Troi looked at him with almost pleading eyes. "Could you tell me why?" Q 's rocking stopped, as looked up at her with sheened eyes. "Because --" He stopped himself just then. "Because I just can't." He shuddered, blinking to clear his eyes. "I can't." "You must want me to know," Troi replied softly. Q glared at her as if she was the most stupid being in the multiverse. "How did you arrive at that?" Troi calmly held his gaze. "Because you're better at evading the truth than this." After a moment, Q replied, his voice very soft. "Would you like to know how I escaped, my dear?" By this time, she had no choice. uhmm.... what happened.... oh, yes, i remember.... :::shudder::: wait a minute. something's wrong. i'm forgetting something. who am i? this is bad. think, think, think.... ah, yes, i remember. i'm Thirty-Six, yes, that's ri -- no! no, no that's not right. i'm Q. yes. i'm Q. i'm Q. Sarhan steadied himself on the doorway, as a tremor ran through the laboratory. The anomaly was beginning another Shift. Sarhan shook his head, feeling slightly queasy and uncomfortably hot. He had never really liked it when the anomaly started to Shift realities. The temperature always rose, which discomfited most J'Shen, as their species was more attuned to chillier climes, and the tremors always made him queasy, and caused he and Sheia to be hot and irritable. He would have much rather stayed in bed, and he suspected Sheia felt much the same. He entered to see Thirty-Six shivering convulsively and curled up on the lab's cold floor. His experiment's eyes were rimmed with red, his face ghostly pale and sheened with fever-sweat. He moaned softly, whimpering, and crying out against waking nightmares. Thirty-Six turned his fevered gaze over to the observer. Q, make them let me sleep. tell them to make it stop. "You're hallucinating, Thirty-Six." Thirty-Six closed his eyes. it hurts. make it stop. please, take me home. i'll be good, i promise. His eyes abruptly snapped open wide. Q, don't leave!! you can't leave me here!! i'll be good, i promise i'll be good! please wait, take me with you!!!!! Sarhan glanced down at the black box, looking at Thirty-Six's temperature. "You're burning up. Your wounds have probably been infected." Thirty-Six's teeth chattered as he murmured deliriously to himself, slipping in and out of consciousness. He drifted on a dark tide, from darkness to fevered dream, to darkness once more. He opened his eyes as if for the first time. my skin's burning.... this isn't right... 'Song's s'posed to be here..... His body slumped, and his eyes closed in exhaustion. "Thirty-Six, stop acting like an infant and wake up." Sarhan turned to see Sheia, and his hunch that the Shift was grating on the both of them was confirmed. "The bar on his power wanes today," he warned. "His power could come back to him while we're in mid-Shift, Sheia." Sheia tilted her head, negating him. "It would not matter. The fever he is running is extremely high; I doubt he has the strength to escape, without killing himself in the process." "We should give him the drugs now. If he dies on us..." "I'm going to," Sheia replied somewhat sharply. "Be patient." She looked down at Thirty-Six. "Are you ready to answer some questions?" He did not answer her, his eyes rolling around the room crazily, too exhausted to focus. His face turned to the side as she hit it. "Wake up." :::moan::: where am i? He snapped his fingers weakly, and gave them a reproachful glare when nothing happened, as his weak frame racked itself in a sudden seizure of coughing. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he began to fall into darkness. He was dimly aware of being grabbed by the shirt front and being shaken. His words came out slurred and confused. just want sleep. make them lemme sleep, Q. "Sheia, stop. Forget it. He is delirious." Thirty-Six felt a sharp pain in his jaw, as blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. There were words, too, but they were hard to hear. "Pay attention when we ask you something. Wake up." It was so hard to pay attention, though... his head was pounding like an ancient Terran jackhammer inside of his skull, and he hadn't gotten more than an hour's sleep in days. He was so terribly sick and disoriented and confused, he couldn't have answered them if he had wanted to. It hurt, and he cried out, not understanding why they were hurting him. stop. please. i don't know the answers. "This isn't working," he heard the purple-eyed observer murmur. Thirty-Six curled himself up in a little ball, moaning as they continued to try and force him to cooperate. 'Song, help, please, where are you? :::gasp::: help..... Sheia circled Thirty-Six's shaking form like a vulture. "She is dead. You do not remember that you killed her?" Thirty-Six covered his ears, shaking his head "no" frantically. no. go away. Unfortunately, his tormentor had lost all capacity for mercy a long time ago. "You tried to keep track of the time, *tried* to be responsible as you traveled back and forth between various time tracks." Sarhan held his hand up. "Sheia, forget about this. He probably cannot understand a word that you're saying. He is *delirious*." But Thirty-Six *could* understand, could understand every word. there was no way i could have prevented her death, and you know it. Sheia smiled coldly. "Do not lie to me." Her voice became deceptively soothing as she leaned closer. "You did not stop to think... you were irresponsible, and you made a mistake. And that is all right. Mistakes can be allowed for." Her voice quickly snapped back into its prim, scientific tone. "But you could have gone back in time and prevented it, couldn't you? You could have kept her death from happening." She circled around him once more, continuing viciously. "No. Because you could not. Because you would not. Because They forebade you to change the timeline. Because they threatened you with mortality." She hunkered down until she was at eye level with him, their gazes locked. "Do you remember when you appeared to her one day with the figurative blood of an entire species on your hands, after you had done something rash in anger?" Her voice had quieted into a low whisper. "Do you remember how she embraced you and told you that she still *loved* you?" Her tongue twisted the word into a hideous mutation of itself. "And you *killed* her. The *only* creature that would possibly ever care for *you*. The *only* one who loved you unconditionally despite your faults, and despite your evil. By not saving her, you killed her." Flames stoked in Thirty-Six's dark, fevered eyes. who told you? "And now, she is dust." who TOLD you?! He grabbed her wrist, unconsciously digging his fingernails into her skin, finding himself talking in a voice he had never before heard himself use. which of my family betrayed me? "Get off of her," Sarhan growled menacingly, as Sheia wrenched her hand away, standing up. "Thirty-Six, I think that there is something you should know about your family." The lab rocked as if struck by a seismic wave. The Shift was past its beginning stages. The tremor jolted Sarhan's anger out of him. "Sheia, wait!" Sheia spun on her heel to face him. "After I tell him this, we will *have* him." "Have him for *what*?!" Sarhan gripped his partner by the shoulders, his words intense. "Sheia, we're not even *learning* anything anymore." Sheia shook free of him, glaring purple daggers. "I do not know what has happened to you. You are not the same Sarhan that I have worked with for five Shifts. You are not the same Sarhan that I eat lunch with every day." She shook her head, her scientific demeanor crumbling around her. "I cannot work with you like this. I don't know if I can even be *friends* with you like this. I do not *know* you anymore." She walked out the door. Sarhan stood rooted to the ground in shock. The quiet, final click of the door echoed in his ears. Moments of silence passed in the slowly heating laboratory. Sweat dripped into his eyes. "You just got rid of my partner, Thirty-Six," Sarhan whispered, his eyes taking on a weird gleam. He stalked slowly toward his experiment. "Do you know what I suppose? I think that she does not enjoy my company any longer. Perhaps she actively dislikes me." He paused for a moment. "Yes, I think that she does. Or will." His blue eyes glared at Thirty-Six. "Because we were fighting over *you*." His voice became very soft and very dangerous. "You begged us to let you go home. *Our* home is Shifting, Thirty-Six, and its hold on your power wanes as we travel. You may possibly have the ability to leave and rejoin your family. "Would you like to know the truth about your family?" The laboratory rocked. Thirty-Six's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he felt something wonderful and familiar trickle back to him. Fervently, he sent a mental outcry to his brothers and sisters, literally screaming out to their minds, frantically straining to hear any stray scrap of their through streams that were once again starting to murmur with his. And then he caught something. "You heard it, didn't you?" ....no.... "You know now, don't you?" NO! Thirty-Six stared out into space, his face a twisted mask of anguish, his entire body trembling. Sarhan's eyes glinted with revenge. "They KNEW, Thirty-Six! They knew about your arrival inside of our lab, and they *left you here*." :::hiss::: you're a poor liar. "They heard your every scream, your every moan, your every cry. They watched you plead and beg and sob for mercy. And they left you here." His voice had degenerated into an angry snarl. "They *hate* you Thirty-Six, *everyone* hates you, you kill what you love and destroy what you hate." He smiled then, and his fetal compassion died inside him. "And if you could bring *her* back to life and talk to her now... she'd hate you too." He grimaced in total disgust. no, no, no, no....... they couldn't have..... they wouldn't have.... they wouldn't abandon me, would *not* leave me to be tortured like this! the Continuum would tell me if i was doing something wrong, and if i deserved to be punished. they wouldn't allow me to be tormented, and just look the other way, they would come and rescue me.... His small reassurances were of no use, as he delved once more into their thoughts. Because he knew it was true. They *had* known. They had always known. And they had done nothing. The worst part was, he didn't even know why. then.... they must be *trying* to get rid of me, mustn't they? He heard Sarhan's voice clearly, as his entire universe spun and cracked to pieces around him: "Do you want to go home now?" Q screamed an anguished scream. A lone figure floated, alone in the chilly void of space. what? where am i? The figure glanced around. how? Streaks of various shades of gray shot around him, as well as other, unnamed colors, painting in strokes around him. He realized that this was the anomaly, and that it was Shifting. once i could reach my powers, they must have yanked me out by instinct...... now, how about getting back to my old shape-- unh. stuck. still too weak. He also realized that if he didn't get the hell out of here, the anomaly could swallow him up again. That particular thought did not appeal to him at *all*. :::moan::: still hurts, still so hot..... need to fix myself, that's better -- OW! :::moan::: no, now i'm making it worse.... still too sick to do it right.... i need help. where to go, where to go..... Certainly not back to the Continuum(and that thought made his throat start to close over). The pain was getting worse, and he became increasingly desperate. ah! the Enterprise! Jean-Luc and his pet doctor will help me.... Abruptly he looked down at himself. He was a mess. This wouldn't do at all. With some effort, he managed to heal up some of his minor outer injuries and cleaned himself up-- one had to keep up one's appearance when visiting, after all -- as the anomaly started to settle itself around him. Near mindless with pain, and near collapse from exhaustion, Q vanished. "So now, you know." Troi stared at Q, stunned. The immortal laughed; it was a mirthless, hollow sound. "Oh yes, you're surprised, aren't you Counselor? That my brothers and my sisters of the Continuum could leave one of their own to be tortured... tormented..." "There must be a reason. Perhaps--" "They hate me. I bet they were planning to get rid of me for centuries, now." Troi tried to reason with him. "Q, your people are immensely powerful. Be reasonable. If they really *did* want to kill you-- which I doubt they did -- they could have done it already." "No, they just want to see me suffer." He rested his head on his knees again, focusing on taking slow, even breaths. "There has to be a perfectly good reason. Q, you only had contact with them for barely a second, and by then, your mind had been made up. You could have missed something." Troi refused to believe that any sentient being could actually have the capacity to do something so horrible to a family member. "Even so, I'd rather not talk with them. Or with you, for that matter, but that's really a moot point." *There is still someone he can talk with... * And then it hit the counselor like a falling brick. "I know of someone that you might not mind talking to," Troi suggested gently. Q stared at her, digesting what he knew she meant. "You can't mean--" "I do." Troi's voice became firm. "You have a chance right now that most of us only dream about. You--" "I can't! She won't want to talk to me! She--" "You have the power to do this. And if you don't, those memories are going to sit inside you, and fester!" Troi took a deep breath, held it, and then blew it out slowly. "If you talk with someone that is close to you, it makes the incident seem smaller. It's easier to break it down into pieces and deal with it. And I know you want to talk with someone, although not necessarily me." Q shook his head. "No." "Please," she added more urgently. "Do this for your own sake. Talk with her." "She won't want to talk with me," Q repeated more firmly. Troi gave him a sideways glance. "Are you afraid?" "I'm not afraid!" Q snapped. "I--" He stopped, raising an eyebrow. "I know exactly what you're doing." He looked down at the floor, opening his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it. He stood up, a wry smile quirking at his lips, not at all what Troi had been expecting. And then she was alone in the rehab room. ****************** The world was an endless landscape of dazzling white, the wind howling like a wounded wolf, blowing the crusting snow into swirling drifts, gleaming against the partially hidden sun. The huge bowl of sky was washed in whites and blues and greys. The gleaming spires and moss-covered walls of the ancient structure seemed to burst out of the frozen ground, lending a warm, invisibly-glowing aura to this wasteland of death and icy cold. Q halted in mid-float, drawing in his rusty senses, once again on this two-mooned grave, once again searching. He materialized inside the structure. Here. This was it. This was where she had flown. Q eyed the expansive hallway up and down, inside and out. The walls were crumbling and overgrown, ancient beyond imagining, but the entire building seemed to glow faintly in sympathetic response to his visiting, powerful presence. He Sent out her name, once, twice. Nothing. Something hurt inside his chest and felt strangely heavy, a bit like lead. She wasn't here. Or even worse, she didn't want anything to do with him. *Nor should she,* Q mused bitterly with a great deal of self pity. The aura around the walls seemed to grow stronger, as something stirred faintly on the very edge of his mind. Q blinked in surprise. **You-- you were *asleep*? Yes, of course it's me. Who else would it be? No, I'm not *dead*. You really are morbid little elf, aren't you?** He cut off his Send. "No, nothing's wrong." He looked away from the little spirit that had floated near him, feeling shame wash over him. He took a deep breath, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His Send was barely audible. **I'm sorry.** Her thoughts formed a question. **You're here, and you're dead, and I'm the one to blame. We both know that.** He shook his head, his face crumpling in misery as his facade started to crack. Suddenly, without warning, her essence was enfolding him, her joy caressing him, as her spirit swirled around him, above him, inside him, diving past the human shell and wrapping herself around the heart of his essence. She hugged his soul. Q was taken aback. This was *not* the response he had expected. Windsong's thoughts chuckled at him. **Oh beloved, you're so silly! It's not your *fault* that I died!** **I could have brought you back!** Q protested. **I could have gone back and taken away your bestial blood that forced you into your death! I could have granted you *immortality*.** Windsong placed a spirit-finger on his lips, shaking her head. **Shh. You know that I wouldn't have accepted that gift. I'm a *wolfrider*, Q. And being a wolfrider means I'm born, and sooner or later, I die. I love being with you, but I wouldn't have wanted to change who I am. And I think you know that. There was nothing you could have done.** Q stared at her, desperately wanting to believe her, that it wasn't his fault at all and never had been... Past caring about how he looked to anyone, his facade crumbled and faded. He sank to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Windsong flickered in alarm. **What's wrong?** So he told her. Everything. She held him close, stroking his dark hair, as her spirit darkened with sorrow. **I was NOTHING to them!!** Q wailed. His mental voice quieted to a hoarse whisper, as he continued, **I act superior to mortals. I'm SUPPOSED to be superior to mortals. But I was nothing to them. They made me scream, made me cry like I was just an infant again. I couldn't hold out. I couldn't stop the pain... And I was terrified. I've seen everything, 'Song! Nothing is supposed to frighten *me*!! But they found out the one illogical fear... and...** He trembled. **I shamed my entire race. And they... they left me there...** Windsong held him tightly, trying to calm his trembling. **When my people get caught by humans, we get hurt. We scream, and we're scared. It's normal. You haven't shamed anyone.** As his tears pooled in her soul, she whispered, **I think you were *very* brave. And there are no lies in Sending.** That was all it took. He laid his forehead on her shoulder, crying as she murmured soothingly to him, holding her close, as the pain and fear washed away out of his eyes. He looked up at her then in surprise, as something inside him seemed to stretch. He arched his back, as his native state cracked through its human casing, his body feeling as if it were melting away. Q hummed in pleasure. **Mmmmm... ohhhh, that feels fantastic. Ahh.** Windsong smiled a spirit-smile. **I know.** Slowly, they floated upwards, high up until they almost touched the tall ceiling, as each slowly gravitated toward the other. Their souls touched, their essences blending, each melting into the other and becoming one. Life and Death swirled around each other in an eternal embrace. A never-ending kiss. Windsong's spirit snuggled against her lovemate. **Stay here and heal, Q. I promise it will get better. It may take a long time, but I don't think anyone else here will mind.** He trailed a kiss along her soul. **You're eternal now,** Q murmured. **We have all the time we need.** The Palace glowed. ==THE END== "hey? why you look so sad? the tears are in your eyes come on and talk to me now and hey don't be ashamed to cry let me see you through 'cause I've seen the dark side too when the night falls on you you don't know what to do nothing you confess could make me love you less i'll stand by you" "I'll Stand By You" Ok, so I wanted to end it on an odd number. WOW!!! Okay, I've finished my first novella!!! :) :) :D Ok, keep reading, because Spectrum wouldn't be here without the following people: Ok, 1st of all: the mailing list! (You know who you are...) Without you guys, this might have ended at part 1!!! I love you all!!! And -- Richard and Wendy, for creating the elves, and especially Richard, for letting me use 'em, and for just being his wonderful self. Kathryn, who's not seeing this, cuz she moved, and Melissa, for being two of my Number One fans, and really encouraging me!! Melissa, without you, I would have lost all faith in myself. Thank you so much!! Hexidex and Hil and Angharad-- I love you guys!!! All those people who send me the wonderful feedback and critiques(thanks Mercutio! -- we all love comments...), and especially Alara, who sent me those big detailed long ones, without which this story might have really sucked, because they helped majorly with the editing process. All of you on the mailing list who I haven't just named deserve an extra big hug for bearing with me and waiting and encouraging and just being yourselves. (You all know who you are. :)) Mr. Burke(you are the MAN!!) for actually being the first one at my school to give this a chance, and for encouraging me to write. All my friends who have been giving me comments, (and asking, "Are you finished it yet? Are you finished it yet?" :)) And last but especially not least, John de Lancie, for being such a wonderful actor and bringing life to Q, therefore making me totally obsessed with him and writing this story. I hope to God that someday you'll be reading this. You know, I'm probabably forgetting someone important. If you haven't been named, well you're reading this far, aren't you? Be content -- without you, this story wouldn't exist, and I'd be a big loser. And yeah, I know I probably sound like an hyperactive Oscar winner right now, but I'm *still* excited! :) I LOVE YOU ALL!!! {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{everybody}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}} YIPEEE!!! IT'S FINISHED!!!!! (Now lemme hear your comments... ;)) ==== -JJ "I'll never grow old, I'll never die... and I'll always eat oatmeal." The MSTed version of "Mitchell" "Nothin like a little alcohol to grease th' wheels of mob mentality! RIGHT BOYS?!" Phoney Bone