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Spock blinked, he was on the bridge. Standing still in the flurry of action as the crew carried out their orders.
“Keep us on course, Mr.Chekov!” Jim paused and looked over to him, noticing the blank look on his face.
“Mr.Spock?” The captain stood, stepping over to him.
“Jim…” Spock’s voice was quiet and he wasn't focusing on the captain, he wasn't sure how he’d gotten here.
“Spock? What’s wrong?” Spock still wasn't looking at him.
Jim reached up and grabbed his shoulder, “Spock!” he called jostling him out of his stupor.
Spock stared into his eyes, he lifted a hand, needing to feel his mind, to know.
Kirk grabbed his wrist, “Mr.Spock, we are on the bridge.” his eyes searched Spock’s face, trying to figure out what was wrong.
“Captain I do not remember how I got here.” Spock said urgently.
“Then we’ll get McCoy--”
“I need you, Jim.”
Kirk sighed, “Fine. Chekov, take the helm.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Kirk walked to the elevator, Spock following closely behind.
They told the computer the level they were heading to and Jim turned the handle. Once they got out, Spock took the lead, striding quickly down the corridor. As soon as they’d both entered the captain’s quarters he reached out, touching Jim’s face, delving them into a mind meld.
He felt safe, here, with Jim. But, something was wrong.
He pulled back out, it was like suddenly yanking his head from cold, numbing water, he stared at Jim in horror, “You are not Jim.”
“Spock! What are you talking about!?”
“What are you?”
The thing that looked like his captain stared at him in astonishment, “I’m James T. Kirk!”
It dawned on Spock then, “It seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state.”
Spock gasped awake, too many things overloading his senses at once. He could hear murmuring and moans in the distance. His eyes darted around in panic, cold metal shined harshly all around him. He tried to jerk his hand up from its binding, but the chill was getting to him and he couldn't use his full strength. The metallic tang of blood soured his mouth while the sharp smell of something that was too clean stung his nose.
An unknown entity walked over to stand above him, “Oh, you’re awake, that was fast. You must be a smart one.” It spoke condescendingly, looking down on him, “What gave it away?” The creature’s eyes shined with malice.
“You cannot replicate Jim Kirk.” Spock huffed out, his breathing unsteady.
“Hm, I guess we’ll just have to try a nightmare this time.” The thing touched his face and he struggled to stay conscious, barring his mind.
“He’s coming to find me.” He shouldn't have said anything at all, should’ve just focused on fighting the being’s grip on his mind, but he was delirious and only half awake now.
“I know. I’m counting on it.”