Hey, I'm actually being good about posting new chapters! ...Well, for the
time...

Chapter 11

Awakened

It felt strange to be back in the hospital, to be aware of the whole world and of what was going on. Pain radiated through my head, and it felt real- and I was silently happy for that- but it felt like it was congesting my thoughts, putting too much pressure on my entire skull.

I flinched at a shooting pain that came with the sudden light into my eyes.

"She's alright!" I heard my dad exclaim out of relief.

"You'll probably feel a bit dizzy as well as a bit groggy... uncoordinated," a man told me.

The voice sounded so familiar, but my sight was blurred, unfocused, and I couldn't recognize the man right away, especially since I couldn't really think straight.

When my eyes finally focused, I realized just how familiar the voice was.

In front of me stood Dr. Phlox, his face the same as when I had last seen him, but aged some.

"Phlox," I managed hoarsely.

"Don't try to speak if it's as difficult as it seems to be for you. You haven't gotten your strength back yet. Just rest for now."

My eyes gave in to his instruction first, beginning to close once again. I didn't realize how much just those few seconds took out of me.

I could almost feel the fear and tension disperse from the room as I began to fall asleep. For a moment, I didn't want to do so out of fear, but I couldn't help but succumb to it.

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"How are you feeling?" Dr. Phlox asked me as I struggled to sit upright.

"Okay..." I told him, weariness evident in my voice no matter how I tried to hide it.

"Hm," he said, half in agreement, half challenging me, and at the same time giving me a very T'Pol-like glare.

He then picked up a scanner, turning it on, and held it over my head.

"You've improved, but I wouldn't say you're fine."

Suddenly I realized that he and I were the only two in the room. Phlox almost read my mind. He told me, "I advised your father to get some food. He had barely eaten during your stay here, and it was begining to concern me."

There was silence as I took a moment to think over the past couple days, then a question surfaced. "How long've I been here?"

Phlox turned off the scanner and lowered it. "Three days. The first two you spent drifting in and out of consciousness, and then yesterday you showed small signs of improvement, however, until last night, you were unconscious the entire day. I arrived early yesterday morning to begin treating you."

I attempted to ask another question, but there were so many, I just couldn't figure out which one to ask first.

"I imagine you must have a lot on your mind. You might feel more comfortable speaking to me than withholding all of it."

"I just don't know where to start.."

"Take as long as you wish to come up with something."

Almost right away I said, "I was so sure these visions never happened before, but when I was dreamin', it came back t' me that they did."

"Sometimes the mind purposely shuts out bad experiences, as I'm sure it was."

"But... it's just...." It was all so hard to explain. "Each time it was different."

"How?"

"Well...." I took a second to come up with my answer. "When I hugged my dad, I saw only what he was thinkin' about, but the first time, when David was with me, I not only saw what he was thinkin', I could... I could look through his thoughts and all his memories."

He didn't bother to ask whom David was, or bother to try to get me to speak more clearly, because I was still shaken, and also because it was now his turn to formulate an answer, one that I could understand. "K'Ela... there are two types of telepathic connections. One is a very deep one, very...." He struggled for the right word. "Intimate. It is felt by both people... usually, and takes so little energy to maintain that connection, you might not even know you have created one. You and David shared that type of connection. Not for any substantial length of time, which is undoubtedly a good thing."

I cringed at the thought of what might have happened if I hadn't gotten so scared.

"I see you already know the purpose of that telepathic connection."

I grimaced.

"So I won't bother to explain any further. There is, however, a second type of connection, one that can be very dangerous, as you've experienced firsthand. It involves a telepathic connection on a much more shallow level than the first. This type of bond is only felt by the person initiating it- you, in this case. It takes a great deal of energy to maintain the connection, partially because only *one* person is contributing to retain that connection, and partially because at such a shallow level, it is difficult to continue to withhold the bond for any large amounts of time when its purpose is to create a short connection."

My mind reeled. What was he even trying to say?

"You were unaware that you needed to break the connection right away- and possibly were unable to do so. Because of that, you ended up here. Your mind had, in such a small period of time, made several too many of those connections, and was forced to recover from such mental exhaustion. It had no other option than to, in a sense, 'reroute' all energy from unnecesary functions, and try to rebuild your mental strength."

He paused to let me take all of that in, then said, "When I first analyzed your synaptic activity, you were in critical condition. At one point, you were almost beyond my help. If I were in your position, I would make a strong effort to avoid making those lengthy shallow connections again." His warning was strong, but with genuine concern for me, almost like he was family.

I nodded, a bit saddened by his diagnosis, but not scared. I had been through so much suffering, I was beyond the ability to fear what he had said.

He nodded back to me in understanding, giving me a small smile as well, then walked to a nearby table to put his scanner down.

"Phlox?" I asked quietly.

"Hm?" he asked, turning around slightly to acknowledge that he was listening.

"You said there were only two types of connections. Only shared between two people. What about objects?" I asked, somewhat embarrassed.

He made a face of confusion and thought, then realized what I meant. "Ah. Doctor Maxwell told me you had to be rushed here on account of what you described as 'flashes of emotions and memories' when you touched... a door frame?" he asked me so I could verify that.

I nodded, realizing how stupid that sounded when he described it to me.

He shook his head. "That wasn't exactly what you thought it was, K'Ela. Your mind was trying to reach out desperately for someone to connect with. You probably made several deep connections and several shallow ones. It was just too much for your mind to take. It really didn't matter whether you were touching an object or not."

"Wh... what about the key?" I was horribly embarrassed, not to mention a little confused. Everything I thought I knew about my telepathy was all just inexperienced guessing, most of it completely wrong.

"You never mentioned any key."

"I saw specifically my grandparents' house. Detail for detail."

He didn't ask me to define the experience any further. "It was your father's key. You had, on more than one occasion, connected with his mind. You didn't need to hold it, all you needed to do was concentrate on it, try to place where you 'knew' it from, and his memory would surface in your thoughts."

Boy, was I stupid.

"Do you understand now?"

I nodded once more. Then I asked my plaguing question. "But *why* was my mind trying that desperately to make a connection?"

He took a second to decide how to phrase what he had to say, then explained. "Each Xyrillian female has a subconscious drive to connect telepathically. It is very strong, and it is very difficult to control. You have only once made a deep connection, am I correct?"

I nodded.

"And you considered it unsettling."

I nodded again.

"That is because you are surrounded by humans that view telepathy as unsettling, and you have adopted their way of thinking. Surrounded by Xyrillians your entire life, you wouldn't have. So one one hand, you are consciously trying to avoid making that connection because not only is it strange to the world around you, you also know how much of a problem it has caused in your own life. And on the other hand, your instinct, and, more importantly, your body, is telling you that you must at some point make that connection." His voice gained a cheery tone as he said, "This whole process is not much unlike the Vulcan mating cycle of Ponn Farr, although, thankfully, without all of the violent alternatives and less appealing effects."

I almost said, "And so you call almost dying more appealing?" but then I realized that Vulcans faced that same threat.

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't, so I asked, "So what am I s'posed t' do?"

"I'm not sure there's much else you could do beside find someone to create an intimate telepathic bond with."

I grimaced, not only because of my situation, but because of how casually he said that. "I was kinda hopin' you would know another way."

I sulked, unwilling to admit to myself that I would actually have to do this. "Could you not tell my dad about this?"

"He *is* going to want to know what exactly is going on, but I promise not to tell him the *exact* means of helping you. After all, I do value doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Thanks."

He gave me a smile and then picked up a hypospray. "Until you do find someone, or until I find another way to resolve this, I advise you not to make any sort of physical contact with anyone."

"I'll try."

He touched the hypospray to the side of my neck, and I could hear the gentle hiss as some sort of medicine was injected into my system.

"I'm going to continue to administer stimulants until you can regain energy on your own. Just continue to rest."

I must have looked very obviously distressed, because he told me, "Don't worry. Whatever happens, I believe you will be fine."

I really hoped he was right.

Well, there you go. Tell me what you thought, but no flames please. ^ - ^