A/N: Oddly enough, I'm writing this and eating pineapple upside-down cake at the same time. Mood food, I suppose. Don't sue me.

JUST A DREAM

"Very soon, Malcolm Reed," they whispered, and a flood of giggles echoed through the mists. "Very, very soon."

Go away, please, just bloody go away, he said, screaming so hard he thought his lungs would burst, but not a sound came out of his mouth. I need my beauty sleep!

"Very soon," murmured the myriad of voices, still giggling. "Very, very soon. Come to the Falling Rocks, and you will see. We will show you."

Go away, please, he cried. But they pressed closer in, crowding around him, great dark figures with only holes where their eyes and mouths should be. Water poured over their shoulders and knocked him flat, and they held him down until he could not breathe any longer.

Bloody hell.

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

"Were you experiencing one of the nightmares you described, Ensign?"

Hoshi groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. "Every single time I wake up, they've killed me in a different way, Doctor," came her muffled voice. "Every single time!"

"How did you die this time?" asked Phlox. He swept a scanner over her head and shoulders and frowned.

"Erghh... bloody hell!" shouted Malcolm suddenly from the next bed, and sat bolt upright, shivering. Blinking furiously, he turned and saw Hoshi and Phlox staring at him, and put his head in his hands.

"This is very curious," said Phlox. "These brain wave patterns are nothing like normal sleep. It's almost as if you're awake and highly agitated, but there's no bodily involvement at all. None of the natural danger instincts, like adrenaline or increased heart rate, have kicked in at all."

"Ugh--I drowned," said the lieutenant, pale and hollow-eyed.

"I fell into an abyss," Hoshi told him. "Last time I was strangled, and the time before that I think I exploded."

"Better than drowning every single time," growled Malcolm. "Did they tell you to come to the Falling Rocks, too?"

"No. What are the Falling Rocks?"

"I have no idea." Some color was returning to his face. The doctor, still looking bemused, had stopped scanning them and was staring at the monitors. He shook his head and frowned deeply.

"I cannot figure this out at all," he said softly. "There is something definitely happening here, but I have no idea what it is. That REM suppressant had no effect at all." He sighed and opened his mouth to say something more, but the doors to Sickbay hissed open at that moment. Captain Archer strode in and gave all three a wide grin.

"You two feeling any better? We'll be arriving at the planet in about six hours, so recuperate quickly!"

Neither Malcolm nor Hoshi answered him. "I have not been able to fully assess their condition, Captain," Phlox said.

Archer raised an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of T'Pol. "What's wrong? You said something about a minor virus, didn't you? Are they in any danger?"

Hoshi gulped and shifted slightly. The captain caught the movement and turned towards her. "What's going on, Hoshi?"

"Sir, I don't think we should go down to that planet," said Malcolm unexpectedly. Archer's gaze swung around from Hoshi and fixed itself on the armory officer.

"Why not, Lieutenant?"

"Er...We've both been having dreams, nightmares really." He quickly explained the situation, telling about the voices and drowning. Hoshi could see his ears turning red, and she rather wished that this conversation was not taking place with both of them in their pajamas. "And they've been getting worse," Reed added. "The closer we get to that planet, the worse they get. Even when we're--er, I'm--awake they're talking."

"You realize, Malcolm, that I'm not going to cancel shore leave for everyone just because you two are having dreams," said the captain.

"No, sir," he replied, biting his lower lip. "I don't expect that, sir."

"Can you do anything for them, Doctor?" asked the captain.

"I'll have to run some more tests," he said. "I do not think, however, that it would be a good idea for these two at least to visit the planet, and I would recommend caution for everyone else going."

"Of course," said Archer. "I'll come back and check on you later. Do what the doctor says. That's an order, Lieutenant Reed," he added, seeing Malcolm's shoulders slump. "No going to the armory."

Hoshi pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned on them as the captain left. Reed sighed audibly and caught her eye, looking miserable.

"I've run all the scans I can," said Phlox. "Why don't you get dressed and get something to eat? I need to analyze the data, but I don't need you here to do it." Hoshi smothered a giggle as Malcolm fairly leapt off the bed, uniform in hand, and charged toward the other room to change. She changed more slowly, and by the time she was ready, Reed was practically hopping from foot to foot with impatience.

"Report back here in three hours," called Phlox as they left. "No duties! That means you, Mr. Reed!"

"Bugger," said Reed quietly once they were out in the hall. "I need to check on something in my, er, quarters. I'll meet you in the mess."

"You heard the doctor, didn't you?"

"No, what did he say?" He turned quickly, winking at her, and strode down the corridor in the direction of the armory. "I won't be long."

Hoshi shook her head and went the other way to the mess hall. She felt better than the day before; the doctor's sleep aid had done that much, at least, but she couldn't shake the terrible residue of the nightmares. Her brain itself felt fuzzy.

The mess hall was empty, breakfast having taken place an hour ago. Some scrambled eggs, a few pancakes, and a few pieces of toast were still left. Hoshi took the scrambled eggs for herself, and grabbed the pancakes and a jar of peanut butter for Malcolm. She could hear Chef humming to himself in the kitchen; it sounded familiar, but she couldn't place the melody.

Someone had left a pen and several padds sitting on one of the tables, and Hoshi began to doodle on the napkins while she waited for Reed. Falling Rocks, she thought. A cave, perhaps, and boulders piled up all around it. A few desert plants, maybe a pathway up to the entrance there. She'd never really been much of an artist, but she felt like drawing, for some reason.

On a whim she drew a figure standing in the doorway, and did not realize it looked like Malcolm until he sat down across from her.

"Bloody targeting scanners," he said. "I gave them a good whack yesterday and they started working again. And they're still working, amazingly enough." He slathered peanut butter on the pancakes and popped one whole into his mouth.

"You look like you're feeling better," said Hoshi.

"I keep thinking of all the time I wasted trying to go about the proper engineering way and all it needed was a good kick to the console," he said. He did look better. The raccoon circles under his eyes were nearly gone, and he wasn't pale as a ghost anymore--now he was just plain pale.

"Falling Rocks," Hoshi said. "Do you think that's on this planet we're going to?"

"That's what they said," Malcolm said, biting off a hunk of pancake. "Falling Rocks." He swallowed and looked grave all of a sudden. "Do you think there could be something there, something that's calling us?"

"I don't know," Hoshi said. She fiddled with the napkin and looked at the picture she'd sketched.

"That's pretty good," Malcolm said, reaching across the table. "Falling Rocks, is it?"

Hoshi looked at it again. "It is good," she said, surprised.

Reed cocked his head at her.

"No, I mean, usually I can't draw to save my life, but--well, look at it. It looks like something real."

"It's them," said Malcolm. "Those voices. They won't get out of our heads, even when we can't hear them." He crumpled the napkin in his hand and tossed it down on the table.

Hoshi put her head in her arms on the tabletop. "I'd think I were going crazy, if you weren't dreaming the same things."

"So would I."

"Maybe we are going crazy, anyway. You and me, Malcolm, just a pair of complete lunatics with voices in our heads."

"Oh, please."

"What? You don't think it's possible?"

"I didn't say anything," said Malcolm. "I think it's completely possible."

"You said 'oh, please,'" said Hoshi, lifting her head.

"No, I didn't--what the--?" Malcolm rose out of the chair and stared past Hoshi. She swung around in her own chair.

"Your fragile minds, oh dear. Human minds." He had no eyes; he simply gazed down at the two officers with empty, bottomless sockets. "So very fragile. You can create an entire world in your own heads, or refuse to acknowledge the real one even when it's staring you in the face."

Malcolm froze, his eyes wide, and Hoshi let out a small squeak without meaning to.

"We are close enough now that we can talk to you directly, without having to worry about natural mental defenses. Quite a pair you two are, here. We need you."

"Why do you need us? What are you going to do to us?" asked Malcolm. Hoshi could barely hear his voice, it was so soft. In any other person she would have taken it for fear; in Malcolm, she knew it to be deadly cold fury.

"Nothing you could comprehend right now, my dear little humans."

"You killed us in our dreams," said Hoshi. "Over and over again."

"You drowned me," said Malcolm, still in thar preternaturally calm voice.

The visitor smiled. "Nothing at all, my dear little humans. We've been waiting for you. Go to Falling Rocks. You will know the way."

And he vanished, leaving no trace behind.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" shouted Reed, slamming his fist down on the table.

"I suppose we'll find out," said Hoshi, "when we get to the planet. Six hours, and we'll know." She felt calm seeping through her body, and couldn't figure out if it was from shock or from ambivalence. Nothing mattered, really; she knew that for certain.

She looked up at Malcolm and saw that his eyes still burned with hidden anger. "Don't worry," she said. "It will be all right, you'll see." She reached to touch his arm in comfort. He jerked away as if she'd scalded him and began to shuffle backwards from the table.

"You're theirs," he said. "Fight it, Hoshi, fight it."

"Don't worry, Malcolm," she told him. "It will be all right." It would, she knew. There was nothing to worry about.

She looked at the napkin again.

"What a lovely picture," she said. "I'd like to go there someday."

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

That was not Hoshi, he knew. What were they doing to them? He rushed from the dining room, heading for Sickbay. Phlox might be able to help him, give him some sort of telepathic suppressant.

It seemed perfectly clear, Malcolm thought, hurrying through the corridors. Some kind of sadistic experiment, some test of communications equipment; maybe they want our brains like when that ship got Travis, he thought.

"Where are you going, Malcolm?" said the stranger, blocking his way. He reached out a hand to the lieutenant.

"Get away from me," said Malcolm, ducking it. But it didn't seem so important to run anymore. He was in danger, wasn't he? No. No, he couldn't be in danger. There was no one here that posed a threat.

"That's right," said the stranger, and vanished once more. Malcolm turned around and found Hoshi smiling complacently at him.

"Isn't this a lovely place?" she said, holding up the napkin. "Maybe there will be a place like it on the planet when we get there." She gazed dreamily into space.

"Yes," replied Malcolm, and smiled. "Shore leave sounds wonderful. What a lovely place." A short, high giggle echoed around the corridors as the two officers wandered away.

"We can't wait for you to come."

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

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