Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Y'all are awesome so I decided to post an update sooner than I originally anticipated.

For the record, I am not even going to attempt Scotty's accent. I can't speak with an accent in real life and I definitely can't write one. :)

Chapter 2: An Illogical Premonition

The Bridge of the Enterprise

It is uniformly, undeniably illogical, I tell myself repeatedly, yet the words refuse to have the desired effect on my psyche.

Besides the blatant fact that it is illogical, I cannot stand to reason why I am… worried.

It is a human emotion and one that I have never harbored before. Perhaps I felt it when my parents were on Vulcan during the planet's imminent destruction. I distinctly remember being worried for their safety. Yet the feeling then had been tempered by adrenaline and overshadowed by the logic that, yes, my parents were in danger of losing their lives.

Reality proved that.

I shake my head ever so slightly to push the image of my mother far from my thoughts. It is unusual that six months after her death, I am still emotionally vulnerable at the mere thought of her. It is even stranger that I have not informed anyone of this attachment, especially my Captain since such an emotional reaction could have a plausible effect on my duties as first officer. Fortunately, most of the Enterprise crew tends to avoid any conversations about the destruction of Vulcan… at least in my presence. My sensitive ears have picked up the topic on numerous occasions.

I am aware that my human side is the source of such foreboding intuition. It is one of the many characteristics that make humans fascinating. At times I wonder whether they too have a sixth sense of sorts. I have heard Jim refer to having a "gut feeling" before a mission, but I have never understood that sentiment until now. The unsettling part of this knowledge is that Jim's premonitions are, more often than not, correct.

The light illuminates on my armrest. I press the button, but before I can speak, Scotty's rushed voice erupts from the receiver.

"Captain, I am receiving some erratic readings from engine room 2. Did you authorize any activity in that area?" My unease clutches at my stomach even tighter. Now I truly understand what Jim means by a gut feeling. I can feel my eyebrows faintly tilt downward to express my innate confusion. Meanwhile the rest of the bridge crew turns to take heed of the conversation.

"I fail to comprehend your meaning, Mr. Scott. The Captain left 10.2 minutes ago to assist you in engine room 2. Is he not with you?" I ask, my voice revealing nothing of what is going on within me.

There is a pause in our communication.

"What are you talking about? I never asked for Jim's help. I'm on the other side of the ship for god's sakes! I didn't-" I stand up from the Captain's chair, not needing to hear the rest of his statement. There is a fault in the sequence of events; one that signals to me that Jim is in trouble.

"What's wrong?" Uhura asks as I pass her to get to the turbo lift.

"Sir?" Sulu inquires curiously.

"Contact Dr. McCoy and have him meet me in engine room 2." I order, not sure what to expect when I get to engine room.

If I ran the rest of the way to that room, I would argue that it was in order to arrive in a timelier manner and not because I am subject to the growing fear that something has happened to the Captain.

My Captain.

~ // ~

I arrive at my destination in record time.

Red lights illuminate the empty hallway while a loud siren denotes that evacuation procedures are in full effect. I am unsure as to why the bridge was not informed of an evacuation. I quickly press the nearest COM button in order to alert the rest of the crew and the bridge, but the computer fails to make a connection.

"Communications are inoperable."

I tilt my head, aware that something is inherently wrong. I run down the hall until I am standing in front of the engine room.

The doors do not open.

I put in my override code, my fingers pushing the numbers with more force than is necessary.

"This code is not recognized," the computer objects.

"Captain?" I call out, staying calm as the siren bellows around me.

"Room is quarantined to contain explosion." The computer announces. The word "explosion" causes my heart to race. There is a 78.82% chance that Jim is in this room.

"Captain!" I yell, worry beginning to surface in the tone of my voice. I do not have time to focus on keeping my emotions buried. I place my fingers at the crack between the two doors. It may appear a desperate act, but it is imperative that I get into that room. I pull and the doors give quite easily to my Vulcan strength. I slip into the room, the doors locking into place behind me.

The room is just as loud as the hallway and I can feel my ears beginning to ache from the intense noise. The room is clouded by rubble with fallen equipment and broken glass littering the floor.

I know that this room will be engulfed in a radioactive explosion any moment now.

I know the chances of Jim being alive are minimal.

I know I will most probably die if I do not leave now.

However, I also know that if Jim is alive, he will most certainly die if I leave now.

Despite the odds, I find myself unable to leave, so instead I venture into the room while my mind tries to ward off the intense, painful buzzing in my ears.

"Jim?" I ask uncertainly as I step carefully over the fragments of turbines and shattered consoles.

"Maximum capacity will be surpassed in 5." The computer begins the countdown.

Suddenly I see a familiar color amongst the red lighting… Gold.

"Jim!" I remark hopefully. I dart forward and pick up the remains of a large turbine. I then push it aside, thereby revealing Jim, lying still on his side.

"4." I touch his shoulder and he turns to me, disoriented and clearly surprised to see me. At this point, I am kneeling beside him.

"Spock…" He says softly as he attempts to sit up.

"3." I know we will not make it. We cannot escape to a safe distance in three seconds even if we tried. I know we are going to die. Yet somehow, it is acceptable. At least we will not die alone. Somehow this human reasoning, though thoroughly illogical, is comforting in some way. I do not have time to analyze it anyways.

"2."

"Spock, it's gonna…" Jim realizes the end just as I have. He does not appear afraid, although I can tell he is from how his shoulder faintly trembles beneath my hand. It is understandable.

"1."

"Spock." Jim's voice is the last thing I hear before the room erupts around me with fire and blinding light. The blast forces me forward onto Jim, where his cool touch is a sharp contrast to the burning sensation alighting behind me.

Then I remember nothing.

Would I really kill our favorite couple?

Sorry for the cliffhanger. It just sort of happened. I had no control over it...