Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING... and please don't sue me because in two months I will be a poor college student and I will have no money.


JUST A DREAM


"We've been waiting for you, Hoshi Sato," they said. "Soon you will be with us."

She couldn't catch her breath. She tried desperately to run, to suck in air, but her skull began to clench from the pressure. Her gasps misted white in the chilly wind, and she fell to her knees, choking.

Who are you, she tried to say, but all that came out of her mouth, in what was no language at all, was a feeble wheeze. Who are you?

A hand touched her shoulder, and she laboriously turned her face to meet a pair of dark eyeless holes, empty yet burning deep within her.

"We are waiting, my little star," they said, and the eyes came closer. "We are waiting for you."

Air came flooding into her starved lungs, and she screamed until she thought her head would burst.

**************

"Are you all right, Hoshi?" asked Trip, glancing sidelong at her as they stood in the turbolift, heading for the bridge for T'Pol's morning briefing.

"I'm fine," she replied, though she hardly felt it. "Just... didn't sleep well, that's all. Nothing more." Understatement of the century, she thought, and couldn't hold back a yawn.

"Are you sure? You look awfully pale," said Trip, blithely ignoring her subtle hints to leave her alone. "Maybe you should go talk to Doctor Phlox." They stepped off the lift and joined the others around the situation table.

"I'm fine," said Hoshi, and let just a hint of exasperation creep into her voice. "I had some nightmares. Really, it's nothing." You seem to be getting better at those understatements, she thought. The nightmares had been coming more and more frequently now, two and three a night, and they left her exhausted. She knew she had slept, because she had woken up so many times, but she certainly didn't feel like it.

Across the table, she caught Malcolm's eye. His face was unusually pensive, even for him, and he looked about as tired as she felt. She wondered if she had such dark shadows under her eyes, too, and decided that the raccoon look most definitely did not suit the armory officer.

"Are we all here?" said the captain, stepping out of his ready room. He, in contrast, sounded quite perky, and, Hoshi thought jealously, had probably slept like a baby last night. "Good! T'Pol, tell them what the third shift found last night."

"We have located a planet several lightyears from here, and Captain Archer wishes to explore it. It is similar in size to your solar system's fourth planet, and appears to have an atmosphere comparable to the desert climate of Vulcan."

"I think it'll be a good chance to get some shore leave in," added the captain. "We haven't had any planet stays in a few months, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I like to stretch my legs every once in a while."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow slightly, and Hoshi fought the urge to smile at the Vulcan's obvious annoyance with the excitable captain. "We will reach the planet in two days," she said flatly. "Now, for orders of normal business..."

She began to speak with Commander Tucker about the status of some repairs and maintenance he was performing, and Hoshi stopped listening. Malcolm's eyes were still fixed upon her; his pale face and shadowed eyes gave Hoshi the distinct feeling that something dead was looking at her, and she shuddered involuntarily.

Cut it out, Lieutenant, she thought. You're creeping me out.

"Ensign Sato," said T'Pol. "Have you made any progress on the realignments to the translator?"

"Er...oh, yes, yes, I finished them yesterday, Sub-Commander," she said. Suspecting that she'd missed quite a bit of conversation, she was relieved when T'Pol turned away, satisfied with her answer, and began asking Reed about the phase cannons.

"You sure you're all right?" said Trip as T'Pol dismissed them all.

"Yes, I'm fine," said Hoshi. If there was one thing she hated, it was people asking the same question over and over again when they already knew the answer. "I'm a little tired, Commander, but it won't interfere with any of my duties, I assure you." She hadn't meant to sound quite so annoyed, but it worked. Trip, looking a little hurt, nodded and ducked into the turbolift.

She sat down at her station, and began to catalogue the transmissions that had arrived during the night shift. A message popped up on her screen before she had done even three of them, though.

You're having nightmares?

Malcolm was watching her like a hawk. It was a good thing neither T'Pol nor Archer were on the bridge just then, because Hoshi gave him such a glare that he visibly recoiled. She wondered at herself, and wondered why everything seemed to irritate her this morning. Usually she was pretty good at not being cranky.

Is that any of your business? she sent back.

He looked up, and she was again struck by how very pale he was. What kind of nightmares? People talking nonsense about waiting for you, and not being able to breath?

She was so astonished that she forgot to be annoyed. You're having those, too?

For several nights now, three or four times a night. You look like I feel. That's why I wondered. I heard a few people describing the same scene, too, but I don't think anyone else has been having them so frequently.

So she did have raccoon eyes. I wonder what's going on?

He didn't have a chance to reply, because T'Pol returned to the bridge. "Lieutenant Reed, I would like you to look over some of these figures. The targeting sensors seem to be out of alignment again, according to Ensign Hart's report from yesterday. Report to the armory. She will assist you there."

He nodded, and met Hoshi's eyes for a second before disappearing into the turbolift. She read his last message and shook her head slightly. It rather ached.

Whatever it is, (read Malcolm's message), I don't think it's a good thing.

***************

"How do these manage to go out of alignment so bloody often?" growled Reed, smacking the console with the palm of his hand. He'd gotten them back working again only a few days ago, and now they were down again. Something must be throwing them out of whack, because even Starfleet's systems shouldn't go offline this much.

The armory was finally nice and quiet; he'd sent all his team off to get lunch because he knew he was on edge more than usual, and had just about reached the breaking point. If he wasn't so tired...

But he didn't want to go to sleep again. He couldn't find a word strong enough to express how much those damned nightmares frightened him. Silly, really, since they were just the brain's expellation of random images, weren't they?

"I've been having nightmares," said Hoshi Sato's voice, slightly annoyed, inside his head, and he hit the console once again, still angry. To his surprise the targeting scanners beeped, the screen flickered, and everything popped up again in perfect working order.

Reed shook his head in disgust, not sure whether to be relieved or annoyed, and headed for the mess hall himself. Something to eat would probably help his mood, and he couldn't remember if he'd finished breakfast. Maybe the problem was only with the screen, he mused, and it was displaying the coordinates wrong when they were really right. He'd set Johnson on it after lunch. Reed himself couldn't take any more technical problems.

"What's up, Malcolm?" chirped Trip, striding up alongside of him in the corridor. "How are the targeting scanners?"

"Bloody things can't decide whether they work or not," said Reed shortly. "One moment they don't and the next they do."

"Geez, what's the matter with you now?" said Trip. "Hoshi was all touchy this morning, too."

"I'm tired," Reed replied. "I apologize if I've been a little grumpy."

"Ah, don't worry, I'll cheer you up," said Trip, whacking him between the shoulders. "What are friends for?"

"What indeed?" Reed muttered under his breath, but he allowed Trip to steer him into the mess hall line.

"Hm, chocolate pie," said Trip. "Not as good as pecan but still pretty delicious." Why did everyone else seem so very perky, Reed wondered. Only T'Pol, seated in the corner reading padds, was acting normally, but then, she wouldn't be perky if her life depended on it.

His head began to ache, and food didn't seem like such a good idea anymore, but he followed Trip to a table and sat down next to Travis Mayweather.

"Anything interesting happen on the bridge, Travis?" asked Trip. Malcolm, feeling faintly nauseous, pushed his mashed potatoes around the plate.

"Nah. T'Pol keeps getting more and more readings on that planet. If I didn't know better I'd think she was excited. She says it's a lot like Vulcan, and she keeps announcing all the climate scans and stuff."

"Maybe she's homesick," said Trip. "Darn planet. I hate deserts."

"Oh, there's a couple of temperate belts in the far north that look pretty decent," said Travis, shoveling a forkful of stew into his mouth and swallowing without seeming to have chewed at all. "Couple of lakes, too, but no big oceans or anything."

Good, thought Malcolm, but he didn't say anything out loud. He took a slow bite of his own stew and chewed slowly.

"Hey, we can go swimming. How about that, Malcolm? That sound good?" said Trip. "Malcolm? M-a-l-c-o-l-m..."

Reed swallowed his mouthful, and wondered what Trip had just said. His head was pounding, and he pushed the plate away, deciding that maybe a nap was a good idea for the last half hour of lunch. He started to get up and froze as a thousand little voices began to murmur around him.

"We've been waiting for you, Malcolm Reed," they whispered, and Reed groaned.

"I've got a bit of a headache," he stammered, realizing that both Trip and Travis were staring at him, and hurried out of the mess hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them both get up and start towards him, but he ducked into a side corridor and waited until they'd passed.

"Malcolm...malcolm...MALCOLM...MaLcOlM!!!" echoed the voices. Perhaps he was going insane. He couldn't see the corridor around him anymore, and they wouldn't shut up.

"Shut up!" he said. Going insane. Bloody, bloody, bloody...Malcolm, Malcolm, can you hear us, Malcolm...Malcolm!

"Malcolm!!!"

He found Hoshi bending over him, her hands on his shoulders. "Hoshi," he said. "Lovely day, isn't it?" Why was he on the floor? He couldn't remember.

"That's it, we're going to Sickbay," she said, and hauled him onto his feet. "I couldn't make you answer me for five minutes. You were just staring and staring. I don't think you were even blinking."

"Five minutes?"

"And I have no idea how long you were there before I found you!" she said. "I was going to sickbay anyway." She stopped and stared at him, openmouthed. "It wasn't..."

"Were you hearing them, too?" asked Malcolm. "I can't seem to make them go away even when I'm awake now."

The turbolift hissed open, and Hoshi steered him onto it. She looked so tired, Malcolm noticed, and he knew he probably looked exactly the same. "You said you heard some other crewmembers talking about nightmares," she asked, and it took him a moment to focus enough to understand the question.

"Oh, yes. I heard a few of my staff talking about their nightmares a few days ago. They described the same situation, but no one's said anything beyond that one conversation. And they don't look very tired, either."

"Everyone seems so damn perky," said Hoshi. "I keep thinking it's just me, though."

"Do you know I've never heard you swear before?" said Malcolm, dazedly amused.

"What, you think I don't?" said Hoshi, sounding annoyed.

"It's just funny."

"Oh, good lord. Did you hit your head on something?"

Phlox looked up as they entered sickbay. "You hit your head on something, Lieutenant?"

"No," said Malcolm.

"What seems to be the problem, then?"

"Er..."

"Nightmares," Hoshi put in, before Malcolm could think of a way to explain. "He's been having nightmares. And I've been having the same ones." She explained about the voices and the suffocation, and the eyeless skull.

"And then I found Malcolm in the hallway, staring into space, and I couldn't rouse him," she finished.

"How very peculiar," said the doctor, pulling out a scanner. "If you could sit down, please, I will take some scans and see if I can determine a cause."

They sat on one of the biobeds. Phlox clucked and hemmed and murmured, switching through several different scanners. "I can find nothing wrong, physically, with either of you beyond a lack of energy," he said. "You need a good night's sleep, but otherwise you are both perfectly healthy."

"No kidding," murmured Malcolm, sounding very much like Trip all of a sudden. The doctor frowned at him.

"I can give you some medications to take that will put you in deep sleep, below REM level," said Phlox. "It won't have quite the same effect, though, because humans are quite dependent on dreams, whether you remember them or not, to fully rejuvenate. Nightmares aren't REM, strictly speaking, but-"

"Why are we both having the same dreams?" interrupted Hoshi.

"I don't know. If you'd let me, I would like to keep you both here for observation while you sleep."

"Tonight?" asked Malcolm.

"Right now, Lieutenant. In any case you're both severely overtired, and as Chief Medical Officer of this vessel, I would recommend a day for rest even without these odd nightmares."

"Can you please not tell the Captain the real reason?" said Malcolm.

"I can tell him you've both contracted a minor virus, if you like," said Phlox. "Why?"

"Er...nightmares...they're sort of a little child type of problem," Reed said, ears reddening.

"How peculiar," said Phlox. "You feel this threatens your status as a strong healthy male, do you not?" He was obviously perfectly serious, with a scientist's curiosity; Hoshi, however, suddenly turned red and started coughing. It sounded suspiciously like giggling.

"Just tell me where to lie down," said Malcolm, turning red himself.

***************

HAHAHA!!! I graduated from high school! (Not that there was really any chance that I wouldn't, of course, but I feel a need to brag...*koff* valedictorian *koff*) This is good news for you because it means I may actually have time to work on it more than once a week!