8.

He was floating in a bath. There was warmth all around him, and possibly bubbles, he felt weightless and happy. A perfect time to daydream: an image unfolded itself in his mind, something he once saw in the older Spock's memories. It was of older him and older Spock, sharing a meal. He was eating something strangely coloured, orange, like pumpkin soup, only he was making a face; it did not make sense, Kirk loved pumpkin soup.

Then the image shimmered and a subtle change took over Spock's features — he was both more familiar now and stranger, his face less angular, lines less severe. Kirk looked down and saw his soup being replaced by a bowl of salad, and he was clearly making that face again but this time it made sense, he hated salad on principle (a Pavlovian reflex hammered in by Bones's grouching). Spock lifted an eyebrow as if he knew exactly what Kirk was thinking, and Kirk blinked, realisation dawning: it was his Spock.

His own, older, Spock.

Spock reached out a hand and gently placed them against his cheek. Kirk instinctively tilted his face to allow better access, waiting for the moment that their minds slid together, but it did not come — instead, Spock's fingers tightened around his face and shook, a faint voice calling him from somewhere far —

Captain — Captain — Jim!

Kirk snapped his eyes open; he was no longer in the bath, but in a tight tunnel of water. His first instinct was to take a deep breath — regretting it the moment his brain came back online — but somehow the water did not flood his lungs as he expected, in fact, nothing came into his lungs at all —

Captain, I am suspending your respiratory functions temporarily. Please calm down. I see light about fifteen metres ahead, Ensign Chekov has already swam through and I suggest we follow.

Kirk blinked rapidly and realised that Spock's fingers actually were pressed against his cheek, evidently engaging them in a mind meld.

How —

Something distracted you as soon as you entered the water, Spock's voice glided over his buzzing mind, You were unresponsive. I had no choice but to initiate a mind meld, lest you drown. Please do forgive my intrusion —

God, you saved my life, don't ever be sorry — Kirk glanced around, but he could see nothing but the cold, dark body of water and the glimmering light ahead. The only anchor he could find was Spock's presence in his mind, warm and steadily pulsing, as they fought against the current. Kirk idly entertained the thought that this feels good, you are welcome in my head any time then belatedly realised Spock could probably hear everything that crossed his consciousness, and blanked.

I suggest we concentrate our efforts on getting out of the water first, Spock replied, slightly bemused.

Kirk did not need telling twice. He latched onto Spock's wrist, kicked and propelled himself upwards towards the shimmering light.

They surfaced a moment later, curiously, to the sound of slow clapping. Kirk grabbed onto the protruding rock surface and climbed onto solid ground, blinking water out of his eyes. Blearily, he saw two figures ahead: one lying down and another kneeling beside him.

"Ensign," Spock said sharply, and Kirk realised the clapping sound was actually Chekov slapping Sulu repeatedly in the face.

"What — Chekov, stop, stop that!" Kirk said, bewildered and mildly indignant, stumbling close. "Why are you — "

Chekov turned sharply and Kirk stopped, taken aback; the young ensign's face was blotchy red, as were his eyes, due to an obvious effort to hold back tears. "He eez unresponsive, Keptin," Chekov said, his accent thickening in the anxious state. "His eyes are open, just like ze doctor's, and he has a pulse, but he eez unresponsive — "

Kirk let out a dubious sigh of relief and rubbed hands over his face. "Yes, well," he said, staring at Sulu's limp form, "He probably isn't going to appreciate you doing that when he wakes up."

"He vill vake up," Chekov said with an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice, halfway between a question and a statement.

"I am able to detect Lieutenant Sulu's surface emotions," Spock declared, lifting a careful hand from Sulu's arm. "His cognitive functions does not appear compromised."

Without further ado, Kirk fished out the hypo McCoy gave him and pressed against Sulu's neck.

A minute, then two. Sulu's pupils contracted wildly, but he remained otherwise immobile.

"Vhy isn't he responding?" Chekov asked, shaking slightly.

"I don't — I don't know," Kirk said, fighting to suppress similar feelings of panic, "Spock?"

Spock hesitated briefly, then knelt down next to Sulu's face. "Should I initiate a mind meld?"

"Can you?" Kirk said haltingly, then clasped a hand on Spock's free arm. Will it be too taxing? Can you handle it?

A familiar sense of reassurance flooded him once again, and Kirk realised he had been asking the questions silently, almost as a stream of consciousness.

"Wait, you can — "

"Only in general tones," Spock answered quickly before the question could even form. "Captain, I will initiate the meld with Lieutenant Sulu now."

Kirk let go of his hand, bewildered and amazed at the same time, while Spock arranged his fingers against Sulu's psi-points and closed his eyes.

"I am wery glad Mr. Spock is with us," Chekov said quietly. Then, "I am sorry."

"What for?" Kirk replied absent-mindedly, eyes fixed on Sulu and Spock's face.

"I will make Mr. Spock cake," Chekov continued inconsequentially. "I am grateful."

"... You do that," Kirk said, vaguely amused. Then, as an effort to relieve the palpable tension in the air, "Just forego the vodka this time, 'kay? Alcohol has no effect on Vulcans, anyhow."

Chekov gave him a sideways glance, and became noticeably more relaxed. "It vill be chocolate," he decided, matter-of-factly.

Kirk opened his mouth to say that no, he will not allow a nineteen-year-old ensign to get his Vulcan First Officer drunk, but the fleeting thought was diverted when the expression on Spock's face shifted.

"What is it?" Chekov said, suddenly tense.

Kirk studied Spock's face intently: Spock's expression had morphed from a controlled calmness to a slight frown, then bewilderment, finally alarm — his eyelashes fluttered and his brows pulled together, fingers shaking slightly.

Disturbingly, it appeared to Kirk as if Spock was having a nightmare.

"Should we do something?" Chekov asked, darting his eyes from Kirk to Spock worriedly.

"No," Kirk said, scowling inwardly, "We don't know if interrupting will do more harm than good — blasted Vulcans never tell you how these sort of thing works — " He paused when he realised for a moment there he sounded like Bones. Instead, he leaned closer and whispered,

"Spock. If you can hear me, come back. We need you to come back."

Spock frowned harder; it appeared as if he was concentrating very hard on something. Sulu's breath was coming out in ragged gasps now, eyes staring into the distance, unseeing, and Chekov glanced desperately between them, hands curled into shaking fists on top of his knees.

"Spock? Spock!"

Kirk forwent all caution and grasped Spock's arm tightly, projecting a clear sense of urgency with all his might.

A long, indrawn breath, then the fluttering calmed; Spock opened his eyes.

"Lieutenant Sulu is unharmed," he declared, retracting his hand.

Sulu promptly rolled over and dry heaved into the ground. Chekov was by his side immediately, patting his back awkwardly and running a hand through his hair, muttering something soothing in Russian.

Kirk refocused his gaze on Spock. "Are you okay?"

Spock lowered his eyes. "I am adequate."

"Uh-huh, and Vulcans do not lie." Kirk said, unimpressed. "What just happened? You looked like you were —" he searched for a close description of what he just saw, "— like you were stuck in Sulu's head," he finished, frowning.

Spock stood up and rearranged himself into a parade rest. "Captain — "

"I am not asking as your Captain," Kirk said, stepping close. "I'm asking as your friend."

Spock eyed him with an inscrutable look for a few moments before relaxing his shoulders and dropping his voice low. "It is usually required for a Vulcan to engage in a period of meditation after a mind-meld," he said. "Given the lack of opportunities at the present, it is possible — though not probable — that my telepathic control has been compromised to a certain degree."

"Compromised?" Kirk repeated, alarmed, "How? What — did you see something in Sulu's mind you were not supposed to?"

"I cannot say," Spock replied. "It was... most curious."

"What did you see?" Kirk pressed, "Just — you don't have to tell me if it's something personal, but — "

"You misunderstand me," Spock interrupted, regarding him with a blank look. "Even when the recipient's mind is vulnerable, Vulcans would have control over which areas of mind he or she could access, to minimise accidental exposure to sensitive information." He paused. "Usually, mindscapes of psi-null species such as humans would be uniformly singular, no matter how weakened the subject's psychological state — "

"Spock," Kirk fought the urge to shake the Vulcan's shoulders, "Just get to the point, will you?"

Spock apprehended him with a level gaze and clasped his hands behind his back.

"When I entered Lieutenant Sulu's mind, it appeared that he was conversing with someone."

"Conversing with someone?" Kirk repeated, astonished, "Like, he was dreaming?"

"I am not familiar with the process in which humans dream," Spock said, shaking his head minutely. "Due to superior mind control, Vulcans do not rely on dreams as a way to systematise information. Even so, I do not believe what Lieutenant Sulu was experiencing could be ascribed to dreaming."

"Why?" Kirk said, feeling too creeped out to protest against the convolution.

"Because I could not hear, nor see, the person he was conversing with," Spock said slowly. "Lieutenant Sulu was not aware of my mental presence at the beginning. He was asking questions, then it became apparent he received an answer, after which he began to panic. Before I was able to bring him out of the trance, he was repeatedly asking, 'why can't I remember, I want to remember'."

Tiny hairs stood on the back of Kirk's neck. Hearing Sulu's question repeated in Spock's monotone only made it worse, and he took an unconscious step closer to his First Officer. "What does he not remember?"

"I do not know," Spock replied. "Despite my efforts, I was not able to redirect his attention away from the conversation he was having."

"Wait, you mean you felt like he was talking to someone, but you couldn't hear the other side of the conversation?"

"Correct," Spock said. "If he had been dreaming, I would have been able to pick up the mental image of the person he was speaking to — "

" — Like watching a movie," Kirk interpreted.

"Essentially, yes," Spock said. "However, the images Lieutenant Sulu was focused on were entirely different ones."

"Like what?" Kirk pressed, "Was it like — something you saw in Bone's head? Or mine?"

Spock's eyebrow flicked. "Neither of those melds were for the purpose of sharing information, but for enhancing cognitive or autonomic function. I did not pry into your mind or the doctor's, Captain."

Kirk waved a hand, exasperated. "You know that's not what I mean," he said. "Wait, so you didn't see anything when you were inside my head?"

For a moment, Spock looked distinctively uneasy. "I should not have," he admitted. "Yet my telepathic control is not at an optimum level. Our minds are remarkably — " he stopped abruptly and inhaled, changing the subject. "I was presented with fleeting images which I did not understand. I had since attributed them to your active imagination — "

"Active — " Kirk frowned, "You saw what I saw, right? Us? Being old together and eating a bowl of salad?"

Spock nodded and lowered his eyes, a brief tinge of green colouring his cheeks. Kirk stared.

"You thought that was my fantasy?" He said, letting a huge grin splitting his face beside himself, "Salad?"

"I — " Spock opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking vaguely annoyed. "The complexities of human fantasy escape me."

"Trust me, Spock, if it was my fantasy, we would not be eating salad," Kirk said. Spock's eyebrow nearly disappeared into his hairline, and Kirk laughed. "I don't mind the growing old bit, though," he said, giving Spock's shoulder a squeeze. "It's good to know that you and I will stick together, as they say, to the bitter end."

"I am — gratified," Spock said, looking slightly bewildered, but vaguely pleased at the same time. Kirk smiled at him. A surprisingly tender moment passed between them, and their gaze held; Kirk's palm tingled with the phantom warmth that Spock's shoulder carried just seconds before.

"So," Kirk cleared his throat after a few seconds, "I really don't know why I was thinking about salads. Is that what you saw in Sulu's mind? I mean, not salads obviously, but something equally random — "

"Lieutenant Sulu was thinking about starships," Spock interjected, before Kirk could embarrass himself further.

"Starships?" Kirk repeated, baffled, "What, he was thinking of the Enterprise?"

"No," Spock said, giving him a 'I would not have considered this an anomaly if it was' look. "Lieutenant Sulu was fixated on on two very specific starships. Namely, the USS Reliant, and the USS Excelsior."

Kirk stared. "There is no USS Excelsior," he said slowly.

Spock nodded, grim.

"Are you — are you sure?" Kirk asked hesitantly, "I don't think Sulu have ever even seen the Reliant — Isn't it deployed near Regula I for a long term mission or something?"

"Affirmative," Spock confirmed. "However, the image present in Lieutenant Sulu's mind was a clear and detailed one. He was, in fact, the Captain of the starship Excelsior."

Kirk opened his mouth, let it hang for a few seconds, then snapped it close. He spared a glance towards Sulu, who was still heaving and shaking slightly, knuckles white against the stone ground. Chekov was mopping his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and Sulu smiled weakly, mouthing something that looked like "Pasha".

Kirk blinked. It made no sense that Chekov addressed Sulu by his first name but not vice versa, unless...

"Spock," Kirk breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from his helmsman and the navigator, "Spock, what if Sulu wasn't calling out Chekov's name before he got dropped into the lake? What if instead of Ch-ekov, he's actually going to say, t-ime?"

A single eyebrow flew into Spock's hairline. Staring wide-eyed into his First Officer's level gaze, Kirk continued in the same mad line of thought, "What if — there is no USS Excelsior... yet?"

"A most curious hypothesis," Spock responded, straightening contemplatively. "The anomalies we have encountered are mostly temporal in nature."

"Our entire reality is a temporal anomaly in nature," Kirk mumbled. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly frustrated. "God, Spock, if you ever go back in time when you are old, promise me you will tell me things, okay? No matter how fucked up I am in another timeline, just — urgh!" He finished with a frustrated groan.

Somehow Spock's eyebrow arched impossibly higher and Kirk was reminded, clear as the sunrise on Cardassia Prime, how alike the two Spocks really were. He gave an elaborate sigh, and shook his head. "This is useless," he said. "Even if Sulu was having an Oracle moment, we have no way of proving it."

Sulu chose that moment to come around. "Captain," he called weakly, face pale but eyes bright, "What happened?"

Kirk walked over to his side, crouched down, and gave the helmsman a tight smile. "We were hoping you could tell us," he said.

Sulu shook his head. "I remember you knocking Dr. McCoy out cold, but that's about it."

"Nothing afterwards?" Kirk needled, feeling somewhat ridiculous himself, "No... epiphanies? Glimpses into the future? Your destiny to become a starship Captain, perhaps?"

Sulu gave him an odd look. "Sir?"

"Your eyes were open like Bones when we found you," Kirk said. "Did you — were you able to see or hear anything? Anything at all?"

Sulu furrowed his brows together and ran a helpless hand through his hair. "Er, no, sir," he said. "I woke up, and Mr. Spock was staring down at me — " he paused, then realisation dawned on his face. "Wait. I didn't wake up by myself, did I? He had to —" Sulu made a gesture around his temple, " — didn't he?"

Kirk nodded grimly. Sulu stared, then cast a fleeting glance at Spock, who was scanning the area with a tricorder again.

"Is — " Sulu began haltingly, perturbed, "Did he — ?"

Kirk gave a dejected sigh. "It's complicated, but it's nothing to worry about for the moment," he said, adding I hope silently in his head. He patted Sulu on the back, and gave Chekov a steady rub at the shoulder. "Glad you are okay, helmsman."

He stalked back to Spock when Chekov began animatedly describing the events that followed Sulu's black out. "Well, it could've been worse," Kirk said with a faint smile.

Spock lowered his tricorder and regarded him with an inscrutable gaze. "That remains to be seen, Captain," he said omniously.

"What do you mean?" Kirk asked, surprised.

Spock stepped aside and directed Kirk's gaze towards their surroundings. They were once again in a cave: there was a wet patch on the ground from where they surfaced, a cliff edge that extended towards the centre of the lake. Pale, thin light swathed over the the scattering rocks, a chasm above them. The stony ground stretched empty, littered with nothing but pebbles. A few large boulders stood out at the centre, one of them particularly tall, offering a good vantage point to the whole cavern. On top of it, something small gleamed in the light. Kirk took a step forward, squinted, then widened his eyes.

It was a discarded hypo.

Whirling around, Kirk gaped at Spock, too dumbstruck for words.

"It would seem," Spock confirmed slowly, staring past Kirk and into the darkness, "that we had, in fact, never left."