2Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or Ghost Rider.
Chapter Two:
"Bones," Jim Kirk said as he burst into Medical Bay. Close behind him, Spock followed. Jim stopped at the foot of the bio-bed, and glanced at the man laying there. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing in air calmly. "I thought you said he was awake."
"He was…" Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy said, looking over at the two senior officers. "Seems you took a bit too long to get here."
"That is unlikely," Spock said, cocking his head to the side, "As it only took us 5.34 minutes to arrive."
"Oh, is that all?" Bones said with a smirk.
"Judging by the tone of your voice -" Spock started to say. Jim interrupted him with a wave of his hand.
"Enough. We don't have time for this." Jim said, folding his arms and glaring at the man on the table. He was only wearing a pair of boxers. "If he doesn't wake up naturally, I'll need you to do with a hypo."
"As a doctor," Bones replied, looking up at meeting his captain's gaze. "I advise against that. This man's had more medication pumped into him than I've ever seen before."
Spock glanced down at the man in question. He was breathing in and out to a rhythm. Much too rhythmically for sleep. Spock cleared his throat.
"Captain, I believe he is meditating."
"Why the hell would he do that?" Bones demanded, taken aback by the statement.
"Unknown. However, I could attempt to find out."
"Mindmeld?" Jim asked, looking skeptically at his first officer. Spock gave his captain a reluctant nod.
Bones' eyes went wide when Spock said this. He'd studied Vulcan physiology at the Academy, and knew that a mind meld was one of the most intimate of gestures. Not because it was romantic (it only was if the two doing it were romantically involved), but because it connected the two people. Their very souls were connected, until one or the other died.
"You sure about that?" Bones asked, looking skeptical himself. "We don't know where he's been, what kind of trauma he's been through…"
"Then it would be appropriate for me to meld with his mind." Spock said, glancing at his captain. Jim reluctantly nodded. He hoped to hell that this worked, and that both his first officer and the mysterious man came out of it unscathed.
Spock placed his hand on the man's face. His thumb went on his chin, and his other four fingers across his forehead. Closing his eyes and kneeling down so he wouldn't strain his back, Spock reached his mind out.
He could feel the other man's mind waiting, and when he entered his consciousness he found himself bombarded by intense emotions.
Pain, fear, anger, sorrow, longing, self-loathing and confusion greeted Spock. The half-vulcan nearly fell backwards at the force of it. It was all so much, and so intense. The pain and sorrow were very fresh, as if a hole had been ripped in his very heart. And the anger was boiling inside of his very soul…
Spock could feel the fire burning in his soul, and he had to fight hard not to be drawn into it. But the half-vulcan pushed through it, and found the memories of this man. With a mental sigh, he delved into the memories.
"Johnny," Barton Blaze said to his son, beckoning to him. "Let me show you how to ride." Barton had a motorcycle with him, one that he'd made himself. It looked sleek and black - and purred like a kitten.
Johnny Blaze was more than happy to obey his father. He'd always wanted to ride - and now he had the chance. Pulling on a helmet, he went to sit behind his father, and listened patiently as he explained the controls.
But Johnny didn't need the lesson, he'd watched his father ride enough to know how to ride. When his father asked him if he wanted to try riding it, Johnny nodded enthusiastically. Smiling, he let his son sit alone on the bike, and watched as he flawlessly brought the bike to life. Then, in an instant, he was roaring out of the tent and into the carnival.
Men and women dashed aside as Barton Blaze's daredevil of a son zoomed through the carnival. When he finally stopped, he was at the limits of the carnival. He looked out over the desert before him, wide and open and waiting to be explored. His heart soared at the thought of riding through the desert…
But reality brought him back to Earth as he remembered that his father needed him. Barton Blaze wasn't the daredevil he once was. That was why he was training his 13 year old son to ride.
Roxanne Simpson smiled as she watched Johnny Blaze ride into the ring. He was going ride through a ring on fire with his father. Both of them on homemade motorcycles, and both of them wearing suits and helmets.
She cheered as they roared their cycles to life and roared up the ramp. Both of them were riding from opposite sides, riding past one another as they went through the ring. Her breath caught as time slowed down and she watched them glide through the ring and land safely on the other side.
When their bikes touched the ground, she leaped up out of her seat and screamed with joy. Around her, others did the same, only they did so because they loved watching the tricks. Roxanne did so because she loved Johnny Blaze, and he loved her. Actually, he was her boyfriend.
Squeezing through the crowded seating area, she found her way back stage. Johnny was taking off his helmet and high fiving his father when she came in. He glanced her way as her feet crunched on the hay that littered the ground.
"Roxy," He said, his face brightening. Sweat glistened on his brow, and he came to wrap his arms around her. "Did you see that?"
"Of course!" She said, hugging him back. "I wouldn't miss one of your shows for the world." He pulled back and smiled at her. Then he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. She smiled and kissed him back, letting her hands rake through his sweaty, short hair.
"Ahem," Barton cleared his throat and leaned on his bike. "Sorry to interrupt, but we have another show to put on."
Reluctantly, the two lovebirds pulled apart. Roxanne let her hand brush along his cheek, and he leaned his cheek into her hand. She gave him a sad smile as she turned to leave. Her father was waiting outside for her, and he was not happy.
"My father's sending me to live with my mother," Roxanne said on their next meeting. "He says your're a bad influence on me." She looked up at Johnny with tears in her eyes. He came to put his arms around her cradled her. "What are we going to do, Johnny?"
"I don't know…" He said, rocking her back and forth. He breathed in her sweet scent of wild flowers and baby lotion. He didn't want to lose her. What could they do?
"I don't want to leave." she stated, starting to cry. Her tears landed on his shoulder, and he pulled her back to look her in the eyes.
"We'll figure something out, Roxanne." He said, sounding more confident than he felt. His eyes went from hers and searched the country side for a sign of some sort. They were in the graveyard, under a tree that was theirs.
His eyes stopped on the road nearby, where his bike sat on the line between the grass and gravel. Suddenly, he knew what they would do.
"We can leave," he said, pulling her out at arms length and pointing at his bike. "We can get on my bike, and ride out to wherever we want!"
"But…what will do for money?" Roxanne asked, wiping away her tears. She was always the practical one in the couple.
"I have some money saved up from the shows. And I can make money doing tricks on my bike." He turned back to her and smiled. "What do you think?"
"Okay," She said, smiling. They had half a plan now, at least. "When should we leave?"
"Tomorrow." He said, "After the show, meet me here with a small bag of supplies. Then we'll leave this place and find our own way in the world."
"Okay." She said, her tears now dry. "I'll see you here tomorrow, Johnny Boy." He broke into a grin and pulled her in for a kiss. She gladly kissed him back, wishing that the moment would last a lifetime.
But, of course, things like this never did.
That night, Johnny had found out his father had cancer. Guilt and anger flooded him. Why hadn't his father told him? They told each other everything!
His hands shaking with anger, he had gone to the bike tent. Here, all of his and his father's cycles were kept. And it was here that Johnny began working on every single one of them to work out his anger.
But tonight, it wasn't working. Swearing, he tossed down a wrench and pulled his grease stained hands through his hair. Why the hell did this have to be happening?
"Something bothering you?" a quiet, calm voice asked. Turning on his heel, Johnny's eyes saw a man in a suit. He smiled at Johnny, in a way that was most uncomforting. "I can help you…"
"I'm sorry, sir." Johnny said, turning on his Texan charm. "The carnival is closed right now. Tomorrow at 8 we open, though."
"Oh, I'm not here for a show, Jonathan." The man said, walking around the tent, his hand brushing against many of the bikes. "I'm here to see you."
"I, uh, I'm not sure I understand, sir." Johnny said, keeping his eyes on the man as he walked around.
"I want to make you a proposition." He said, stopping at his father's homemade bike. It was the first one Johnny had ever ridden, and the one he intended to run away with Roxanne on. He glanced up at Johnny, a strange fire in his eyes. "It is one that I think you will not be able to refuse."
"Oh yeah?" Johnny asked, leaning back on a bike and smirking. "Whatcha got for me? If it's a new riding contract, I'm not interested."
"It's a contract all right, but not the one you're thinking." He said, pulling out a piece of paper from his coat. "This is a contract that can save your father."
"What are you talking about?" Johnny asked, raising his eyebrows. How did this guy know his father was dying?
"Your father has lung cancer, no?" the man walked towards him and outstretched the contract. "I can fix that. Sign this, and you won't have to worry about him dying of cancer any more…"
"And the catch?" Johnny asked, a hand reaching for the parchment. He paused an inch away from it. Deals like this always came with a price. Always.
"All I ask in return," the man said, handing the paper to the boy. "Is that you do a favor for me in return."
Nodding, Johnny reached for what he thought was a pen at the top of the paper. It was a sharp pin, however, and pricked him on the finger. A drop of his blood landed on the parchment, and the man's eyes glowed. He swiped the paper back from Johnny, and then promptly disappeared.
Meanwhile, Johnny himself felt strange. It was like he was burning up from the inside out. It started small, but reached out from his entire body. Screaming in agony, Johnny groped for something to put out the flame. But before he could, he blacked out. The pain was just too much. Just...too much.
The pain was too much for Spock as well. It burned him, seared his mind. It was like it was branding him, making him what this man had also become. With a scream, Spock pulled his mind away from Johnny's. And with it, he brought Johnny Blaze back into consciousness.
"Spock!" Jim shouted, pulling his first officer to look at him. "Spock -"
Jim's words were cut short by the fire in the half-vulcan's eyes. It was a burning, eternal flame that burned there. It wasn't human, it wasn't vulcan - it wasn't anything that he'd ever seen before. And in a moment, it was gone, replaced by the eyes of Spock.
"Captain…" He said, leaning on Jim's shoulder as he stood up. "This man is Jonathan 'Johnny' Blaze from the 21st century."
"What the hell did you do to me?!" Johnny exclaimed from the table. His eyes were wide and his face one of confusion. "And where am I? I know this ain't a boat - I've been on boats and they don't look like this!"
Jim glanced at the man, Johnny Blaze, and raised his eyebrows. This man was over 200 years old, and still alive and kicking. There was a lot he needed to know. Like, for instance, if there were others like him.
Raking a hand through his hair, Jim Kirk looked at Bones. The doctor raised his eyebrows.
"Bones, let this man go, and get him a fresh pair of clothes." Jim ordered, tapping his comm. "Chekov, I need two security officers down in Med Bay, stat."
"Yessir." The accented voice of the young Russian responded. Jim looked down at his First officer and sighed. "Anything else sir?"
"Tell Uhura that she has the con." Jim said, leading Spock to a bio bed. "Mr. Spock is currently indisposed."
"Aye, sir." Chekov responded, and Jim heard the comm click off. He turned to Bones again.
"Get Mr. Spock top medical care. I'm going to need him later." Jim addressed the doctor.
"Captain," Spock said, attempting to get off the bed. "I can assure you that I am quite well."
"If the captain says stay - then stay." Bones said testily as he unstrapped Johnny. "Heaven knows you could use a rest."
"As a vulcan, I do not require as much rest a a human -"
"Then it's a good thing you're half-human." Jim said. "Stay here, Spock. I need you rested in case I need you for an away mission." Spock sighed quietly, and lay down on the bed obediently, then.
"Yes, sir." He said with resignation. Jim nodded and turned back towards Johnny Blaze. Johnny looked back at the captain with questioning eyes.
"Would now be the wrong time to ask questions?" Johnny asked, as he rubbed his wrists. Bones handed him a newly replicated pair of pants and shirt. Taking them, Johnny pulled the shirt over his head, and then quickly slid into the pants.
Jim couldn't help but smile. This man reminded him a lot of himself - he had attitude, charm, and a sense of humor. He thought the two of them would get along pretty well.
For those of you waiting for Ghost Rider to make an appearance, fear not. Next chapter Spock will discover something absolutely frightening about Johnny Blaze and the anger in his soul. Meanwhile, Blaze himself will find that the 23rd century is full of guilty people with tainted souls.
