Disclaimer: I wish I owned Star Trek. I'm sure many people wish they won
Star Trek. There are probably people who think it would be nice to own Star
Trek, but don't. There are probably others who don't even like Star Trek
but would like the money they would get for owning it. However, none of
these people, including me, own Star Trek. Sucks, no?
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*** Identity Crisis ***
Chapter Two - Memories and Headaches
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The next morning came as usual on the USS Enterprise. The dreams, as strange as they had seemed, were all but forgotten. After all, they were just dreams. What could they possible mean?
Unfortunately for McCoy, his computer was determined not to let him forget something. In any case, it was his own fault. As soon as his computer sensed him moving it recited the name "Joseph Luke Roberts."
"Say what?" he asked the computer groggily, blinking to clear his eyes. It was very early in the morning. It was still early, though it was nearer to six o'clock than two forty.
"Joseph Luke Roberts," the computer obediently repeated.
"Riiiiiight," McCoy mumbled. The dream was coming back to him, with more detail than he would have wanted. There was something strangely unnerving about that dream. He just KNEW it shouldn't have happened. He just KNEW there was something strange going on.
Who was he kidding? There was nothing strange about a dream! Why, a few days ago he'd had a dream that he was living alone on an island when Muppets from the twentieth century had told him he had to move because the island was about to be infested with ferrets. And obviously, that dream didn't mean anything. He was insane.
Yes, that was it, he thought jokingly. He had spent too much time in space and had gone insane. Or maybe too much time with Spock. Now that would make an interesting headline: Man Gone Insane Because of Over-Logical Vulcan. Or maybe Vulcan Spock Destroys Sanity of Ship's Doctor.
McCoy was still trying to think of good headlines as he headed down to breakfast. Though it was a rather pointless activity, it pushed the dream out of his mind.
After getting eggs, bacon, hash browns, and orange juice from the food replicator, he headed over to Spock's table. He had to tell the Vulcan about his "headlines." Maybe Spock would even have a few suggestions of his own.
Or not.
McCoy was in mid-Chief Medical Officer Loses Mind Because of Logical Spock when he heard a snippet of conversation coming from a table nearby. "Yeah. But wasn't that a weird dream? I mean, I was Doctor McCoy. Not, like, watching him. Being him. It was messed up."
"Vell," this was Chekov, "I had a dream like thet too. Except I vas Mr. Spock. It vas wery strange. It just. seemed wrong. I didn't vant to be him but I vas. I woke up when I was about to throw a brick at a bunch of Vulcan kids because they were calling me 'Earther.'"
McCoy had completely forgotten the conversation he had been having with Spock. (Or rather his talking and Spock's Eyebrow raising.) Other people had had dreams.
It seemed that Spock had suddenly forgotten the conversation as well, for he too was listening to the conversation. Something like emotion had passed over his face when Chekov had said something about, what... throwing a brick at some Vulcan kids? It looked almost like Spock was remembering something with satisfaction.
However, McCoy decided to walk over to the table where Chekov and possibly Joe Roberts were sitting.
"Um, excuse me?" he said awkwardly.
"Sir?"
McCoy went straight to the point. "Are you Joseph Luke Roberts?" The name had been burned into his memory ever sine he had been basically woken up by it. Damn computer.
"Uh, yessir. How'd you know, sir? Am I due for a physical?"
"No, no," McCoy laughed. "I couldn't help but hear you say you had a dream in which you 'were' me. That's true, right?"
Ensign Roberts nodded nervously. Where was this line of questioning going?
"There's something strange going on, then." McCoy related all that he had dreamed.
By the time he had finished, Roberts was staring at him with an expression of shock. "My. my eighth birthday party. How did you know? Sir. Have you been looking at my files? I didn't know it was in there."
"Just tell me about your dream."
"Yessir. I was in Georgia, I knew that, and it was summertime. I was walking around, and I'm sure something else would have happened, but then I woke up. I had a late shift and I'm just eating now in the middle of it."
"What time did you wake up?" Could he have been dreaming at the same time McCoy and Chekov had been?
"Two-thirty. Well, it was two thirty-one when I looked at the chronometer, but." he trailed off, with nothing more to say.
"Vhat about me?" Chekov asked.
"What about you."
"I dremed too. Except I vas Mr. Spock."
"Okay." McCoy didn't know what to say to that. He suddenly became aware that Spock had moved and was standing next to the table with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Please relate your dream, Ensign Chekov," he said.
Chekov obeyed, and McCoy was sure that he saw that same glimmer of emotion on Spock's face.
"Very interesting," Spock said. "That is, in fact, an event from my childhood."
"So what does it mean?" McCoy asked. He didn't really expect anyone to know; he just felt as though the question needed asking.
"I do not know," Spock said seriously.
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Breakfast ended and the day continued on the Enterprise with little change. Everyone, including the dreamers, went about their respective duties; Spock and Chekov on the bridge, McCoy in Sickbay, and Roberts to Security.
To Captain Kirk on the bridge, everything seemed perfectly normal. The bridge crew came back from breakfast, sat down at their stations, and did what they had to do.
But Kirk was not in Chekov's head. He was experiencing strange memories and thoughts--and they all seemed as though they should belong to Spock.
Even as he plotted the course to Seti Olan Two, a planet of strange psychic people, he was thinking of his old pet sehlat Ee-Chaya. This would have been perfectly normal, had Chekov ever owned a sehlat named Ee-Chaya. As it were, sehlats were Vulcan creatures.
He buried his head in his hands. And now to top it off, he had a headache. Out of sudden curiosity, he looked at Spock. Was the Vulcan experiencing the same problems he was? Memories that didn't belong to him and a headache. It was hard to tell with a Vulcan.
The thought of Spock experiencing his memories was a strange one. What part of Chekov's life was Spock reliving in his mind? No doubt he would find Russia interesting. It wasn't like Vulcan where Chekov had lived.
No! No, no no. He was from Russia, on Earth, and his name was Pavel Andreivich Chekov. Not Spock of Vulcan. No, no, no!
Even as he repeated his identity to himself, the headache seemed to get worse. Apparently Captain Kirk noticed, for he asked Chekov what was wrong.
"Headache," Chekov muttered. He didn't need to tell Captain Kirk about the Spock memories. And anyway, the headache was getting bad.
"Well, why don't you go down to Sickbay. I'm sure we'll be okay without you for a few minutes."
Chekov nodded, then hurried off the bridge, Kirk's words of "Mr. Sulu, take over Mr. Chekov's station" fading away. When he got down to Sickbay, Nurse Chapel was already treating someone. For a headache, it seemed. Chekov groaned softly as he saw who it was. He should have guessed. Ensign Joe Roberts. Doctor McCoy would probably be somewhere nearby. And probably soon Spock.
Yes, there was Dr. McCoy, sitting on a chair in the corner holding his head.
A different nurse guided Chekov to a bed and he sat down. His headache had gotten worse. And so were the memories.
"What's wrong?" the nurse asked politely, though she didn't need to. She was already waving a mediscanner around his head. The nurse looked at the results and pushed a hypospray into his shoulder. Nothing happened. Maybe it would take a little while to kick in.
This hurt almost as much as when he had tried to fight the other boys on Vulcan and they had hit him on the head with his own brick. (So that's what happened then, Chekov thought.)
But the thought did not last long, and soon Chekov wanted to scream. The hypospray wasn't helping, and he was still plagued by all of these absurd memories.
The doors to Sickbay swished open again, and Spock entered the room. "Doctor?" he asked.
"Not now, Spock," McCoy said crossly from his chair, "Talk to someone else. I've got a bad headache and the hypo hasn't exactly kicked in yet."
The nurse was puzzled. Four people with bad headaches, coming in at the same time. And Spock was one of them? In all her experience on the Enterprise, the nurse had never seen the Vulcan come in with a headache. After all, he was Vulcan. She watched (and hid a smile) as Nurse Chapel rushed to tend to Spock.
Actually, though to the nurses it was not apparent, Spock, McCoy, Chekov, and Roberts all had more than just headaches. They were in each other's memories. Or, to be more specific, Spock had memories of Russia, Chekov had memories of Vulcan, McCoy had memories of New York, and Roberts had memories of Georgia. And on a faraway planet, a walrus-like alien was sneezing.
Strangely enough, the memories seemed to be. thickening. That was the word that came into Roberts' head when he tried to think of a description. Becoming more detailed, more real, and there were more and more of them. When he had woken up, it had only been the dream. It had been nothing. But as the day went on, he remembered his- McCoy's- dad's small doctor's office. He remembered meeting Jocelyn in High School. Then he remembered exactly what happened during their first kiss. What the hell was wrong with him?
Roberts felt like he was intruding horribly into Doctor McCoy's mind, but he could do nothing to stop the memories.
Finally the hyposprays kicked in. They had taken longer than usual to work, leaving the four men to contemplate the memories.
They could finally go back to their stations and do something to take their minds off, well, their minds. And someone else's mind.
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As Spock and Chekov exited the turbolift and walked to their places on the bridge, Chekov realized that the headache had not completely gone away. It was just there enough to be annoying. Annoying like the memories were. And he was experiencing so many memories he wasn't even sure if he was Chekov.
Then suddenly, the annoying pain exploded into agony in Chekov's brain. The memories were rushing past him like a river. He was drowning.
There was Amanda--Sarek--Ee-Chaya--the boys who had taunted him--his teachers-- now places--there was Shirkahr--the desert--New Jersey where his human grandparents lived--his school--his house--
Everything went black for a moment, then Chekov was awake again. And the memories had stopped, for now. That was a relief in itself. He didn't even notice that he was on the other side of the room. But he watched himself straighten up, then-
He realized what he had just seen. He was outside his body somewhere. He looked down at himself, for it certainly felt like he had a body.
He did.
But he simply couldn't believe whose body it was.
It was Mr. Spock's.
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Please review.
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*** Identity Crisis ***
Chapter Two - Memories and Headaches
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The next morning came as usual on the USS Enterprise. The dreams, as strange as they had seemed, were all but forgotten. After all, they were just dreams. What could they possible mean?
Unfortunately for McCoy, his computer was determined not to let him forget something. In any case, it was his own fault. As soon as his computer sensed him moving it recited the name "Joseph Luke Roberts."
"Say what?" he asked the computer groggily, blinking to clear his eyes. It was very early in the morning. It was still early, though it was nearer to six o'clock than two forty.
"Joseph Luke Roberts," the computer obediently repeated.
"Riiiiiight," McCoy mumbled. The dream was coming back to him, with more detail than he would have wanted. There was something strangely unnerving about that dream. He just KNEW it shouldn't have happened. He just KNEW there was something strange going on.
Who was he kidding? There was nothing strange about a dream! Why, a few days ago he'd had a dream that he was living alone on an island when Muppets from the twentieth century had told him he had to move because the island was about to be infested with ferrets. And obviously, that dream didn't mean anything. He was insane.
Yes, that was it, he thought jokingly. He had spent too much time in space and had gone insane. Or maybe too much time with Spock. Now that would make an interesting headline: Man Gone Insane Because of Over-Logical Vulcan. Or maybe Vulcan Spock Destroys Sanity of Ship's Doctor.
McCoy was still trying to think of good headlines as he headed down to breakfast. Though it was a rather pointless activity, it pushed the dream out of his mind.
After getting eggs, bacon, hash browns, and orange juice from the food replicator, he headed over to Spock's table. He had to tell the Vulcan about his "headlines." Maybe Spock would even have a few suggestions of his own.
Or not.
McCoy was in mid-Chief Medical Officer Loses Mind Because of Logical Spock when he heard a snippet of conversation coming from a table nearby. "Yeah. But wasn't that a weird dream? I mean, I was Doctor McCoy. Not, like, watching him. Being him. It was messed up."
"Vell," this was Chekov, "I had a dream like thet too. Except I vas Mr. Spock. It vas wery strange. It just. seemed wrong. I didn't vant to be him but I vas. I woke up when I was about to throw a brick at a bunch of Vulcan kids because they were calling me 'Earther.'"
McCoy had completely forgotten the conversation he had been having with Spock. (Or rather his talking and Spock's Eyebrow raising.) Other people had had dreams.
It seemed that Spock had suddenly forgotten the conversation as well, for he too was listening to the conversation. Something like emotion had passed over his face when Chekov had said something about, what... throwing a brick at some Vulcan kids? It looked almost like Spock was remembering something with satisfaction.
However, McCoy decided to walk over to the table where Chekov and possibly Joe Roberts were sitting.
"Um, excuse me?" he said awkwardly.
"Sir?"
McCoy went straight to the point. "Are you Joseph Luke Roberts?" The name had been burned into his memory ever sine he had been basically woken up by it. Damn computer.
"Uh, yessir. How'd you know, sir? Am I due for a physical?"
"No, no," McCoy laughed. "I couldn't help but hear you say you had a dream in which you 'were' me. That's true, right?"
Ensign Roberts nodded nervously. Where was this line of questioning going?
"There's something strange going on, then." McCoy related all that he had dreamed.
By the time he had finished, Roberts was staring at him with an expression of shock. "My. my eighth birthday party. How did you know? Sir. Have you been looking at my files? I didn't know it was in there."
"Just tell me about your dream."
"Yessir. I was in Georgia, I knew that, and it was summertime. I was walking around, and I'm sure something else would have happened, but then I woke up. I had a late shift and I'm just eating now in the middle of it."
"What time did you wake up?" Could he have been dreaming at the same time McCoy and Chekov had been?
"Two-thirty. Well, it was two thirty-one when I looked at the chronometer, but." he trailed off, with nothing more to say.
"Vhat about me?" Chekov asked.
"What about you."
"I dremed too. Except I vas Mr. Spock."
"Okay." McCoy didn't know what to say to that. He suddenly became aware that Spock had moved and was standing next to the table with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Please relate your dream, Ensign Chekov," he said.
Chekov obeyed, and McCoy was sure that he saw that same glimmer of emotion on Spock's face.
"Very interesting," Spock said. "That is, in fact, an event from my childhood."
"So what does it mean?" McCoy asked. He didn't really expect anyone to know; he just felt as though the question needed asking.
"I do not know," Spock said seriously.
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Breakfast ended and the day continued on the Enterprise with little change. Everyone, including the dreamers, went about their respective duties; Spock and Chekov on the bridge, McCoy in Sickbay, and Roberts to Security.
To Captain Kirk on the bridge, everything seemed perfectly normal. The bridge crew came back from breakfast, sat down at their stations, and did what they had to do.
But Kirk was not in Chekov's head. He was experiencing strange memories and thoughts--and they all seemed as though they should belong to Spock.
Even as he plotted the course to Seti Olan Two, a planet of strange psychic people, he was thinking of his old pet sehlat Ee-Chaya. This would have been perfectly normal, had Chekov ever owned a sehlat named Ee-Chaya. As it were, sehlats were Vulcan creatures.
He buried his head in his hands. And now to top it off, he had a headache. Out of sudden curiosity, he looked at Spock. Was the Vulcan experiencing the same problems he was? Memories that didn't belong to him and a headache. It was hard to tell with a Vulcan.
The thought of Spock experiencing his memories was a strange one. What part of Chekov's life was Spock reliving in his mind? No doubt he would find Russia interesting. It wasn't like Vulcan where Chekov had lived.
No! No, no no. He was from Russia, on Earth, and his name was Pavel Andreivich Chekov. Not Spock of Vulcan. No, no, no!
Even as he repeated his identity to himself, the headache seemed to get worse. Apparently Captain Kirk noticed, for he asked Chekov what was wrong.
"Headache," Chekov muttered. He didn't need to tell Captain Kirk about the Spock memories. And anyway, the headache was getting bad.
"Well, why don't you go down to Sickbay. I'm sure we'll be okay without you for a few minutes."
Chekov nodded, then hurried off the bridge, Kirk's words of "Mr. Sulu, take over Mr. Chekov's station" fading away. When he got down to Sickbay, Nurse Chapel was already treating someone. For a headache, it seemed. Chekov groaned softly as he saw who it was. He should have guessed. Ensign Joe Roberts. Doctor McCoy would probably be somewhere nearby. And probably soon Spock.
Yes, there was Dr. McCoy, sitting on a chair in the corner holding his head.
A different nurse guided Chekov to a bed and he sat down. His headache had gotten worse. And so were the memories.
"What's wrong?" the nurse asked politely, though she didn't need to. She was already waving a mediscanner around his head. The nurse looked at the results and pushed a hypospray into his shoulder. Nothing happened. Maybe it would take a little while to kick in.
This hurt almost as much as when he had tried to fight the other boys on Vulcan and they had hit him on the head with his own brick. (So that's what happened then, Chekov thought.)
But the thought did not last long, and soon Chekov wanted to scream. The hypospray wasn't helping, and he was still plagued by all of these absurd memories.
The doors to Sickbay swished open again, and Spock entered the room. "Doctor?" he asked.
"Not now, Spock," McCoy said crossly from his chair, "Talk to someone else. I've got a bad headache and the hypo hasn't exactly kicked in yet."
The nurse was puzzled. Four people with bad headaches, coming in at the same time. And Spock was one of them? In all her experience on the Enterprise, the nurse had never seen the Vulcan come in with a headache. After all, he was Vulcan. She watched (and hid a smile) as Nurse Chapel rushed to tend to Spock.
Actually, though to the nurses it was not apparent, Spock, McCoy, Chekov, and Roberts all had more than just headaches. They were in each other's memories. Or, to be more specific, Spock had memories of Russia, Chekov had memories of Vulcan, McCoy had memories of New York, and Roberts had memories of Georgia. And on a faraway planet, a walrus-like alien was sneezing.
Strangely enough, the memories seemed to be. thickening. That was the word that came into Roberts' head when he tried to think of a description. Becoming more detailed, more real, and there were more and more of them. When he had woken up, it had only been the dream. It had been nothing. But as the day went on, he remembered his- McCoy's- dad's small doctor's office. He remembered meeting Jocelyn in High School. Then he remembered exactly what happened during their first kiss. What the hell was wrong with him?
Roberts felt like he was intruding horribly into Doctor McCoy's mind, but he could do nothing to stop the memories.
Finally the hyposprays kicked in. They had taken longer than usual to work, leaving the four men to contemplate the memories.
They could finally go back to their stations and do something to take their minds off, well, their minds. And someone else's mind.
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As Spock and Chekov exited the turbolift and walked to their places on the bridge, Chekov realized that the headache had not completely gone away. It was just there enough to be annoying. Annoying like the memories were. And he was experiencing so many memories he wasn't even sure if he was Chekov.
Then suddenly, the annoying pain exploded into agony in Chekov's brain. The memories were rushing past him like a river. He was drowning.
There was Amanda--Sarek--Ee-Chaya--the boys who had taunted him--his teachers-- now places--there was Shirkahr--the desert--New Jersey where his human grandparents lived--his school--his house--
Everything went black for a moment, then Chekov was awake again. And the memories had stopped, for now. That was a relief in itself. He didn't even notice that he was on the other side of the room. But he watched himself straighten up, then-
He realized what he had just seen. He was outside his body somewhere. He looked down at himself, for it certainly felt like he had a body.
He did.
But he simply couldn't believe whose body it was.
It was Mr. Spock's.
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Please review.