Feedback: "Oh, yes, I hate this! It is revolting!"
"More?"
"Please."
Disclaimer: Paramount and their parent company, whoever, own Jim, Spock, Picard, S...whatsisbeak, Velaria 3 or whatever, and the Nexus. Sorry, Paramount!
Hot, dry air, as that of Vulcan. But this is not Vulcan -- it is different, somehow. A flimsy bridge to nowhere? A white-haired man screams irrationally and fires an odd particle weapon with atrocious aim. Not Vulcan.
Now he is on the bridge, fighting with a wiry, bald humanoid. The white-haired man will prevail; all will be lost -- lost? How do I know that? -- but ... T'hy'la!
Jim is now on the flimsy bridge. He and the wiry humanoid try to defeat the white-haired one. Something is thrown; it lands on the bridge. The item is important. To obtain it is vital. I must try; I can't move. No matter how I struggle, I am paralyzed and can't affect events.
Jim dives for the device on the flimsy bridge ... collapse. Falling. Jim!
He lies bleeding under the metal wreckage. A time ribbon flies across the sky. Jim, why did you not go back into the time ribbon? Because now, you will die, T'hy'la.
The universe spins as the wiry humanoid desecrates your body. He hauls your
corpse manually up, up to the top of a nearby mountain. Why does he not let
you rest, T'hy'la? And why did you not go back into the time ribbon and try
again? Why did you jump onto the flimsy bridge?
***
Jim was awakened by a stirring next to him. He had been experiencing his
best night's sleep in a week, after recovering from his 20th-Century
illness. But what was happening now?
"Computer, lights, five per cent." He looked beside him, where Spock twitched, in the grips of a nightmare. Sweat beaded on his green-flushed forehead, and his breathing was rapid. Jim barely touched Spock's shoulder.
"Spock."
"No, Jim, why did you not go back into the time ribbon?"
"Spock." Jim touched the shoulder again and stroked his T'hy'la's forehead, drying the sheen of perspiration.
"Jim, why did you not try again? Oh, T'hy'la, it is too late."
"Spock, wake up." Jim felt more urgency now, to rescue Spock from his bizarre fantasy. He squeezed Spock's arm gently.
Spock's eyes flew open. "Jim!" His gaze gradually focused. His ragged breathing calmed as he looked into Jim's eyes.
"Spock." Jim felt his partner's forehead again. It seemed even hotter than usual. "I'm going to call Dr. McCoy. I think you've managed to catch a human virus from me."
"Impossible."
"Well, at least you have to admit you were having some nightmare. What was it about ... a time ribbon? And me?"
"I have no idea, Jim. Nightmares are ... not logical. Perhaps it is your own human imagination."
END
Ellen Fremedon's original fic that this is sort of based from
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