A long, gaping void of silence engulfed the room. It lasted for about a minute but that was longer than a five year mission.
"What did you say?" Kirk asked, jumping out of the pit of a pause. He heard what McCoy had said loud and clear. But it didn't register. No…no…he was coming…
Bones looked into those sad eyes, torn by misery and fear. He was such an idiot! Why did he say that? Say that this had happened, in front of Jim? The last thing he needed was more pressure, more pain, more fear…
The doctor didn't answer. He put his head in his hand, "Jim..." he didn't know how to say anything that wouldn't be upsetting. Admitted he shouldn't have said that might be insulting, but saying it again would be worse.
"Captain, we will leave the room, it will be brief." Spock said as he began to stand up.
"No…Spock," he managed, voice shaky as if all the confidence he usually had had been sucked out of him. "I want you two to stay here."
"Captain for your well being, we are going to speak in private."
"No, stay in here." His commanding tone was totally obliterated. It wasn't there. And yet, he squeaked, "Do I have to make that an order?"
Spock was thinking about reminding the captain he was unfit for duty and could not make it an order, but decided against it. He had never seen his Captain, no…his friend, in a state of such impotence.
"Jim, I really don't want you to have to hear this…" McCoy shook his head.
"Doctor, no matter what we are speaking of, it seems he will be the one to know eventually."
Bones considered this.
"I still…I don't know…Jim do you really want to hear this?" he directly addressed the epitome of the question.
"Please." He whispers. McCoy and Spock both seem to realize something. The captain has been talking again. He barely said a word before the mind meld.
"Alright Jim." He nods solemnly. "That event with Uhura, Chekov and Sulu choking was the event that I was called in to look at."
"The three focused waves were like wise to have been aimed at them, by the unknown force." Spock concluded.
The ends were tied, and they all realized this.
"So what happens in my nightmare…" Jim's voice shrank to the size of an ant. It was a breath that was cast away in the air conditioning.
"Becomes…real." McCoy breathed, panic began to spread in his voice. "Oh my god…oh god…" he let out, unaware he was speaking. "Spock…Spock…what are we going to do?" he choked over the words. The Vulcan seemed to be the only competent person in the room right now.
Spock looked back at his friends.
"Panicking is unproductive. We need to find where these transmissions are coming from and quickly." He said finally. "Doctor, I will see you privately in my quarters and Captain…" he paused for a moment, and then realized he did not know what to do with Jim.
Leaving him alone seemed unprofessional and cruel, taking him with was straight out illogical because he would become even more incompetent with fear, and sedating him might just end up hurting or even dare he say, kill them.
"You will be confined to your quarters." Spock said, a quiet note of regret ringing softly in his voice.
McCoy wanted to argue that seemed harsh…but there was no better way. But then he was afraid his friend would fall asleep.
"Doctor." Spock motioned him to come outside and Bones obediently followed with a look back at Jim, suffering in fear.
They left the room and stepped in to the Doctor's quarters that was conveniently placed very near to the captain's room,
"Spock…his nightmares are coming true. What if…" he voice was getting that panicky undertake once again.
"Doctor, we must work swiftly and find out where the rays are coming from."
"Wait, Spock, what was the order of events in the dream?"
"The event with Uhura, Chekov and Sulu, then mister Scott, and then you and I." Spock reminded.
"Then we need to confine Scotty. And that will be our time warning."
"I will have that done. That leaves an open spot, but Mr. Scott is the only man besides ourselves equipped with the knowledge to create the tracking device."
McCoy considered this. "So what do you think?"
"I think we should place heavy guard on him, but have him continue to help. That will be more efficient." Spock said.
"Should we tell him? Or Chekov, Uhura or Sulu?"
"No. That may be a violation and lead to undue alarm."
"Alright…but what do we do with Jim?" this was the question played though the ever growing fear in his mind. What happens to Jim?
"Continue to have him confined to his quarters." Spock concluded with surety.
Bones shook his head. "Your right - but it doesn't seem right…"
"There is nothing else we can do at this moment."
"He's in pain and scared out of his wits!" McCoy argued to no particular point.
"Doctor, we must get to work now. Before it happens." Spock didn't want to refer to the stream of events.
The things McCoy didn't know were how horrific it all was.
In the dream, both of them had no will. No, they had will. But it was locked away beyond un-operable doors that no key could override. Except for one key. The one held by the ringmaster.
The ringmaster that dangled it in from of Jim's face. But what did he want? What did this other him want?
I don't think you can understand what it means to have this kind of terrible sick fear ringing through your veins if you've never had the experience of a nightmare that everything is real. Actually, I doubt you can understand this if you're not James Tiberius Kirk. Which I believe you are not.
I will try to explain in the best terms that someone who is not James T. Kirk will understand. Imagine…imagine that your two dearest, closest people on the face of this planet, the two people who know more about you than you do about yourself, are standing in front of you.
These people bring you up when you are down.
These people make your world spin around.
These people are the people you would never, could never, ever, ever, forgive yourself if they got hurt.
And here you are, sitting as if shackled to the floor, trapped in a cage, while another you – another person who is not you – watches them and treats them like pets. They are servants. Slaves.
They bend knees and tend to this other man's will and word, crave their every whim, to serve. This is the vibe that resonates off them. The cold obsession for reason to live. Their reason is to serve.
But these are not servants. These are your friends. These are your companions. The people who you'd give the world and the universe and you're very soul for…and it hurts to see them like this. Defenseless. Mindless.
Everything they are seems gone.
And when you are trapped in a world of fear and helplessness for them in a dream that seems real it's terrible.
But when you're chained to a reality where you can't even escape to your dreams for help, and everything in that nightmare stops being just a fantasy of the mind, it's surreal.
….
You can't understand how sorry I am for the wait. I'm buried in work and haven't gotten to writing. I hope you like this chapter, because I find it sloppily written.
Trying to write more, please review! It's going to get good really quick!