A/N: Thank you for reviewing, everybody! I appreciate them so much! My chapters have titles now. This one is 'Dead Asleep' as suggested by ThatSassyCaptain (thank you for the ideas! I almost had it 'Precautionary Measures', too!) :) Enjoy!

The first thing McCoy did after the announcement was made was get with Scotty to remove all the sugar from the synthesizers. When people complained he merely glared at them and said "it's only for a couple days and do really want nightmares right now?" That shut them up. He also distributed stimulants to all the crewmembers who would be taking the first watch over their cabin mates. He was rather surprised when Uhura showed up.

"I thought you'd been in the rotation Spock's setting up," he mused, handing her the hypo to take later.

"I thought about it," she blushed. "But it would be, well, a bit awkward to have him in the room as I'm trying to fall asleep."

McCoy agreed wholeheartedly. He wasn't looking forward to his turn with the Vulcan. He almost didn't hear as Uhura continued.

"So I'm bunking with Chapel."

"Oh?" Although not an officer, McCoy had made sure that Chapel had her own room early in the mission. A head nurse needed a place to unwind in private. He knew it did him a bunch of good. "Well don't let her boss you around too much."

Uhura laughed. "Thank you, Doctor." She left for the bridge.

Kirk was in a mood when she got there. He was pacing around, sometimes hovering, before retreating to his chair only to get up and pace again. As she sat down at her console he approached.

"How's Sickbay?" he asked.

Suppressing a smile at his behavior, she answered. "Fine, Captain. Distribution of the stimulants is running smoothly; the crew is informed to look for eye movement signaling a dream."

"Good," he wandered away. Kirk was restless. There was nothing going on and so the adventure was mainly a scientific endeavor. He felt practically useless. Spock was absorbed at his station, McCoy was busy in Sickbay, and Scotty was down trying to coax as much information as possible from the computers. The man was still unnerved that a mere storm had made so many instruments go haywire.

He'd filled out a new report to Starfleet and sent it off ages ago. They wouldn't get a reply until sometime tomorrow. Finally, the shift ended and after a quick dinner it was time for bed.

Kirk walked in his quarters and stretched out on the bed. He groaned. The day had been crazy and boring at the same time, and now no one was looking forward to sleep. Ideas swirled in his head as he tried to speculate what could have caused all this.

He was interrupted from his musings when the door buzzed. A moment later, Spock entered.

"Spock," he greeted. "I take it I am the first person on your rotation schedule?"

"Yes, Captain." He stood there.

"Well, sit down," Kirk invited, gesturing a chair near the bed. "Make yourself comfortable; there are some things I need to finish in the bathroom."

Spock sat silently in the chair. He had considered bringing something to do for the long night, but decided that it would only distract him from keeping watch on his captain. In their new reality, dreams could kill.

Kirk returned and laid down. They chatted some before he drifted off to sleep.

Spock observed the rise and fall of Kirk's chest as he sank further into sleep. When his eyelids started fluttering, he swiftly rose and gently shook his shoulder.

"Captain."

Kirk did not awake right away and so Spock shook him again. "Jim, wake up."

Finally, his eyes opened. "Aw, Spock," he slurred, coming to. "You yanked me out of a good dream."

"I apologize, Captain, but we cannot afford the results if it were to become a nightmare."

"If it had become a nightmare I would've been talking and jerking in my sleep." Kirk sighed wearily. "How about this, Spock. If I'm doing what I just said, wake me. Otherwise, I'm fine just having a normal dream." He grinned. "Who knows? Maybe actually feeling it will provide a better sleep."

Spock didn't think the logic was completely sound, yet agreed nevertheless. He returned to his chair and remained there till morning.

The next day greeted a bunch of tired eyes. Stimulants and coffee were passed around and people resumed trying to glean as much information as possible from the storm, light, and dream effects. Sickbay filled up with some oddities; people who had dreamed and their watchers didn't know it, or had fallen asleep themselves and dreamed. There were no more deaths, however, and nothing more serious than an infected snake bite.

Kirk swung by around lunch and asked for a report. "Aside from the dream cases and sleep deprivation, nothing unusual," McCoy answered. Sensing his next question, he added "and no, we're no closer to finding the cause of all this than we were yesterday."

"Thank you," Kirk replied. "That'll be all, Doctor."

No sooner had he left then Tilaran came into Sickbay. "Hello, dear, what can I do for you?" McCoy greeted warmly.

The Deltan smiled shyly and glanced around. "I've got a sort of… humming… in my head," she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, why don't you have a seat and see what's causing it?"

She sat on a biobed and McCoy ran his scanner around her skull. He frowned. A few areas showed heightened brain activity, but not dangerous; just on the high side of the norm. "Did you stay up last night or sleep?"

"I stayed up," she said. "Although I must have dropped off at one point. I woke up suddenly and noticed deep scratches crawling down my roommate's arm- literally, they were just appearing as if something invisible was attacking her. I woke her up right away; she'd been dreaming about fighting a tiger."

McCoy nodded, absorbing the testimony. He filed it away for later. "Do you know if you dreamed any?"

"No."

"Is it causing you any pain?"

"Actually, it's not," Tilaran reflected. "But it was weird and I thought you might like to know."

He set down his scanner. "Thank you. Right now I can't pinpoint what's causing it. Your brain activity is a little spiked, but that can be attributed to Deltan circadian rhythms."

"Yes," she chewed her lip. "You don't suppose it's connected with… what's been going on, do you?"

"Well, it is a definite possibility," he replied. "Let me know if it gets any worse, okay?"

"Sure thing, Doctor," Tilaran got up, glad to have informed him of the odd noise. "It's actually kind of pleasant right now; like I've got my own elevator music."

McCoy chuckled. They said good-bye and he returned to scrutinizing the data on Tilaran and the others just prior to the light.

Evening came closer. Chekov stopped by to get a stimulant. He seemed a little nervous.

"Your turn to stay up?"

"Yes," the Russian answered. "But I'm wery vorried that I'll fall asleep… I don't vant to miss someteeng that might hurt Sulu…"

"Well, that's where this comes in," McCoy said, holding up a hypo. "With this stuff in your system, you wouldn't dream of falling asleep."

They laughed at his pun and were still chuckling when Tilaran came in, swaying in the doorway.

"Doctor?" she called weakly. "You said to call if it got any worse…"

She collapsed.

It was almost an hour before midnight. Spock walked the dimly lit halls until he reached his destination: Sickbay. It was almost empty except for about four people lying on biobeds, carefully monitored. Dr. McCoy stood near them, studying the medical panels. He turned when Spock entered.

"Evenin' Spock," he said gruffly, his accent thick.

"Good evening, Doctor," he replied. He waited.

After a moment McCoy realized why he was there. "You may wanna skip me tonigh'," he waved. "It'll probably be an all-nighter- try Scotty instead."

Spock observed the sleeping patients. Well, two were sedated and two were unconscious. They were the top four telepaths on the Enterprise- aside from himself, of course. He checked and made sure his mental shields were still strongly in place. They were. He looked back at McCoy. Although tired, he knew him well enough that the doctor truly wouldn't sleep. Not until he had answers, at least. And then he would wake up the whole command crew. There was no need for concern over his dreaming.

So Spock inclined his head in acquiescence. "As you wish."

Kirk was tired. He'd be sleeping alone tonight, which meant to say that he wouldn't be sleeping at all. He eyed the sedative McCoy had given him. "It'll render you unconscious for about 7-8 hours," the doctor had explained. "Now no excuses; I want you to take this. It won't equal REM sleep, but it's something. Now bed."

So with a sigh Kirk injected himself, and soon floated away into a realm of darkness.

/000000000000000000000000000\

"Captain! Captain Kirk!"

Kirk jolted awake to see Nurse Chapel's worried face looking at him. She withdrew her hands from his shoulders where she'd been shaking him to consciousness.

"What? What is it?"

Her face was grave. "There's been a medical emergency on Deck 6, crewman's quarters. Dr. McCoy sent me to get you; he's there now." Kirk almost didn't hear the last part of her sentence before he was already out the door and racing down the hall. Adrenaline pumping through his veins flushed out the remainder of the sedative. He skirted the curving corridors and found that the nurse was right on his heels. They entered the turbolift and made for Deck 6.

"What time is it?" he asked, noticing that they hadn't run into any crew members.

"0630 hours," Chapel answered, controlling her breathing. "His roommate called it in."

The doors opened and they ran until they came across a small crowd outside the quarters. Chapel made for one man who was sitting on the ground, mouth working to try to form words, eyes staring blankly. Kirk glanced among the redshirts, looking for Bones. He was about to enter the room when the doctor exited, looking at him seriously.

"What happened?" Kirk asked, dreading the answer.

"Jim, ever had the dream where you fall from a high place and awaken just before impact?" he asked quietly.

"Yes…" He trailed as McCoy motioned him inside. They entered the dark room. Kirk squinted, and his stomach clenched. Something was on one of the beds. Making out a mixture of blood, guts, and bones, he tried not to gag. It didn't even look human.

His ears barely registered the words McCoy spoke next. "This is what it looks like when you impact."

I hope y'all don't mind a little bit of gruesome human imagery. For some reason I've always been good at describing dismembered limbs and body parts (but I tried to tone it down some here, since the rating's T).

Also, I know one scene may seem a bit Spirkish but it's not meant that way. I don't write slash, and even if I did I wouldn't write Spirk; I need McCoy in there somewhere.

Anyway, this chapter may be a tad slow but it's just the lull before the storm! Please review, I'm anxious to know what you people think.