Prompt: Spock gets transported back from a mission and a malfunction gives him amnesia. It slowly gets worse, eventually he can't remember where he is, who the crew are, who he is. I have the thought of him barging into the bridge or someone's quarters panicking because he doesn't know where or who anything is. McCoy is his usual moody self but has to resort to being kind and sympathetic to him because he is too fearful.
This is going to be a multi-chapter fic.
...
"Scotty! Beam us up!" Captain Kirk was yelling in the communicator, voice probably muffled from the harsh wind.
"Ach, I'm trying sir! Th' transporter is down! Ye gonna have tae' find shelter for a bit longer!"
"Our chances for survival in our current situation is approximately three point—"
"Shut up you pessimistic hob-goblin," McCoy bit at Spock, "You heard the man, just gotta wait a couple more minutes." He turned away and began muttering to himself. "Just typical for the damn transporters to stop working when we're caught in the middle of a hurricane"
At that moment, a large crunch and the feeling of an earthquake suddenly hit the floor. Kirk spun around to find Spock striding away just in time from a tree that had fallen over behind them.
"Scotty!" Kirk cried into the communicator again.
"Jus' a minute sir!"
As if some unforeseeable creature had heard their pleas, the familiar tingle of yellow light wrapped around then, taking the landing party away from the danger zone and into the comfort of the ship. Comforting for two out of the three men, that is.
..
"Almost lost ye' there." Scotty sighed with relief as he saw the crew land. "Readings were fluctuating as ye' transported down."
"Yeah? Well I'm not going in that thing again 'til it's been tested forty times" McCoy stepped off the pad in frustration, clapping Kirk on the back and then realising the other hand needed to go to Spock's back; only problem was that he wasn't there.
He twisted himself around and glanced back to the transporter pad. Spock was still standing there, seemingly hadn't moved an inch since he got back, his eyes seemed fixated to the ground.
McCoy cautiously approached the Vulcan, stepping onto the transporter pad again. Apparently he hadn't noticed the doctor nearing him.
"You alright? Looking kinda peaky."
Spock's head sluggishly turned to face McCoy, but eventually answered with a curt nod.
McCoy wasn't convinced.
"Did something.. hit you on that planet? Falling tree? Still tripped up from me calling you a pessimistic hob-goblin?"
Spock shook his head, but nevertheless straightened his composure again.
"I believe I am functioning adequately, doctor." he replied, brushing past the CMO and leaving the baffled-looking Captain staring at him.
"What's up with him?" Kirk asked, turning his head to look at McCoy.
"Dunno. Looks like he's going to have his physical 2 weeks early though. Lucky him." The doctor responded, swiftly striding out the transporter room and after Spock.
…
"Hey!" McCoy called after Spock, who simultaneously picked up his pace after hearing the doctor's voice. He knew what his next words were. "I want you in sickbay, I'm not done with you yet."
Feeling it would be illogically rude to continue walking, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face McCoy.
"Doctor, I do not feel it is necessary to trouble you with an examination, which is what I presume you are beckoning me to sickbay for."
"I watched you blank out in the transporter room for a full minute with my own two eyes. It'll only take a minute."
"It was a temporary readjustment to the harsh environment of our mission, to the calmer atmosphere of the ship." He responded, craning his neck to the side slightly.
McCoy sighed in exasperation.
"Fine. But if you feel any worse, come and see me right away, alright?"
Spock gave a curt nod to the doctor, and walked on to the turbolift.
Back on the bridge, Kirk was handing out orders to begin flight to their next mission, as the doors hissed open, revealing Spock marching in.
"Mister Spock." The Captain acknowledged, turning his chair to face him.
"Captain," the Vulcan replied.
He walked half-way across the room, and for a split second, the thought of being lost crossed his mind; for a millisecond, he didn't recognise the room he was in.
But then shook it off when he realised it was the bridge, and sat down at his assigned area, beginning to get to work.
His hands gracefully moved over the touchscreen quickly, everything piled in him from muscle memory, everything running smoothly like clockwork. He watched his hands move, hardly having to pay much attention to his thoughts.
He tuned out for a second, listening into the what the Captain was saying.
"…and that means we'll probably be stuck up here for a while until Mister Scott is a hundred percent sure that the transporter won't kill any of us!"
The transporter does not kill, theoretically.
Abruptly, his hands froze, like a pianist who had yet to learn the next part of their song. He glanced down at the screen, thinking back to scanner instructions, and continued his work, thinking nothing of it. But seconds later, the same thing happened. And again. Then he realised, every-time he tried to let his mind wander, he couldn't work at the same time.
Perhaps it will be logical if I were to temporarily terminate my work.
He turned his chair to face the Captain, hesitated for a second, and then requested to leave.
"Captain, may I have your permission to take a temporary leave of absence to the mess hall. I fear that my work is being affected by my requirement of nourishment."
Kirk was taken aback by Spock's request. He had never asked to leave while on duty before.
"Sure Spock, take all the time you need!" he replied, taking a mental note to tell McCoy what just happened.
Spock gave a curt nod to his Captain, then seemed to walk more fast-paced than usual to the lift doors.
..
Walking down the corridors to the mess-hall, Spock glanced past the door to the sickbay. Then thought better of it, as McCoy would most likely sit him there for tests for three hours straight.
"Spock?" he heard a voice call after him. A slight tinge of annoyance filled him. He didn't recognise the voice, and every crew member were to refer to him as Mister Spock. He pushed it away, labelling it as his half-human side trying to get through.
He turned to face the source of annoyance, then mentally wanted to kick himself when he saw it was Kirk.
He had forgotten what Captain Kirk sounded like.
"Captain," he replied, straightening out his shirt in the presence of Kirk.
"Spock. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
Spock's eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, Captain."
Kirk stepped closer to the Vulcan.
"You know what I mean, Spock! You faltered in the transporter room, and just now you've asked to leave while on duty, and you've never done that before. Care to tell me why?"
Spock's left eyebrow did the impression of an aeroplane.
"Perhaps it was a mere coincidence, Captain. I have also neglected my need to eat, therefore I am on my way to the mess-hall for sustenance. This is a possibility as to why my performance is not satisfactory."
Kirk scoffed, then patted the Vulcan on the shoulder, much to his surprise.
"Your work is always above satisfactory Spock. I see nothing wrong."
Perhaps it is logical for me to inform the Captain of my ailment.
"Captain, I have been experiencing issues with my ability to recall instructions. I am seeking measures to improve my performance."
But Kirk, as usual, simply laughed at the problem and waved it off.
"Ah, you're always so overdramatic. Come on, Sulu's got the conn, let's go eat and talk about how illogical your behaviour is."
Spock looked almost offended.
"Captain, my behaviour is not illog-"
"It's a joke, Spock." Kirk smiled, then tugged him forwards towards the mess-hall to eat everything his endless pit of stomach would allow.
TBC