Such A Tiny Human - 4

Chapter 4: Nightmare

- Several Days Later -

Kirk woke up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating himself awake. He gasped and bolted upright, his hands automatically going to the space next to him. It was empty and he recoiled, his eyes dilating in the pitch black. His breathing calmed marginally as he concentrated on sight. There was a faint glow at the end of the bed and he crawled on top of the cool covers.

It was the line of light coming from under the door; was Spock out there? His heart pounded and he crouched down in indecision. It could be a monster who was holding Spock hostage. But if he made a noise the monster might come in and get him. He didn't want that, but he couldn't let the monster eat Spock. That would be horrible; nobody wanted to be eaten. He had to do something.

Jim inhaled to clear his head and held it in for a moment. He could do it.

His PJs protected him from the cold and he slipped down, his bare feet hitting the carpet loudly. He thought it was loud, anyway. He paused, listening. He didn't hear anything. That was strange. Monsters made noises. Gurgley noises and growls when they barred their teeth trying to scare people. Maybe it had already eaten Spock. He gasped in horror. What if he was too late?

Without thinking twice, Jim lightly pushed on the door and it slid open just a bit too fast. He jumped back into the room in fright, flattening himself against the door and breathing hard. When seconds passed and still he didn't hear anything, he slowly peeked into the living room.

He inhaled quietly.

Spock was meditating. His pale green visage was just visible from the light of a small pottery lamp at his side. The single flame flickered. The smell of incense wafted around Jim and the little boy sniffed curiously. The scent, though unknown to him, had the bitter sweetness of steeping tea. It made the room warmer and he found himself comfortable drawn to it. The source, he soon realized, came from the lamp. The lamp itself looked like two plates joined together horizontally, with a spout, just like a teapot. Only without the tea. A trickle of smoke rose from the flame.

Unafraid, Jim padded over to examine the smoke. He stood a fair distance away, feeling as if he shouldn't disturb even the symbolic representation of Spock's peace.

He rubbed his eyes as he began to feel sleepy. Wobbling, Kirk managed to get around to Spock's side and flop down on the carpet. He looked up at Spock, noticing something a second later; Spock didn't look exactly peaceful. Jim knew meditation should be. Why did he look so worried? Jim didn't like that, but he didn't want to touch Spock. He remembered from somewhere that you shouldn't disturb anyone when they meditate.

To Jim's surprise, however, his presence stirred the Vulcan.

Spock opened his eyes, confused for a moment why he had come out of the trance. A movement in his periphery caught his attention and he was startled to see Jim barely awake sitting next to him.

Jim blinked.

"Jim." The inflection in Spock's tone almost made it a question.

Jim went wide-eyed, his surprise turning to worry.

"Spock," he smiled but it fell quickly. "Are you okay?" he was hesitant, though trusting of his instincts. Something was off, he could feel it.

A small crease appeared between Spock's eyebrows but he soon realized what was causing Jim's tension. He was silent. He did not know if it was the right course of action to make Jim aware of his condition and the trouble they were having with tracking down the cure. It was a challenge, and with each passing day Spock was less sure they would succeed. They knew they would find something, yet a part of him wondered if it would be in time. He needed time to sort his erratic thoughts, and this time he admitted to himself, he had not been entirely successful.

"There are questions I need answered and I am having difficulty achieving that. Meditation is a way I work out my problems—though it does not always afford a quick solution."

"What do you need to figure out?" Kirk asked this after a moment, moving closer to Spock so his shoulder pressed into Spock's side and his head rested in the niche between his ribs and arm. Spock looked down affectionately, reminding himself that the human need for touch was especially potent during childhood. Being careful not to jostle Kirk, Spock slipped his arm around Jim's small body and held him close.

Even in the silence, Spock might not have heard the sigh Kirk made without his sharp hearing.

He was suddenly hit with how much he felt the need to protect the small being at his side. It had been days since Jim had been changed to a child and in that space of time Spock had felt this before; it was sometimes unnoticeable, and at others, a powerful urge that would prompt him to act unlike himself in favour of Kirk's needs.

He was not unfamiliar with this state of being, this precarious test of his control and the rewards that came with it, as his bond with the older Kirk had prompted much the same reactions in him. Only, this was in many ways different. His behaviour bordered on the parental, and he realized that was exactly what it was. Over the past few days his every thought had been tinged with where Kirk was, what he was doing, and if he was well cared for. In instances he even found himself wondering if the small human was happy. When Spock checked on him from the bridge he would usually sense the playful awareness of his de-aged captain somewhere in the ship with a trusted officer or lieutenant. He would have of course trusted any of the Enterprise crew with Jim but he felt more secure if said person was of the core command staff or chosen by himself personally.

Feeling these little glimpses of Jim safe and sound assured Spock, and he would visibly relax. He did not know if he wished to control these needs. They did not interfere with his thought processes any more than another part of running the ship would have. But he could not ignore the fact that Jim was not just another part of running the ship. He was… something else entirely.

And something was off. When Jim had lain down beside him Spock had sensed a nervous disposition; from a dream? He did not often dream but knew how erratic they could be. Dreams, especially in humans, could not usually be controlled and if Jim had even a slight worry about anything, it could magnify. Spock hesitated. He wished to observe what was causing Jim stress but did not want to frighten the human with his presence. Adult Vulcans oftentimes helped children through the mind, and it did not harm them. He would be careful then.

Spock closed his eyes, opening his mind just enough for the sleeping human's dreams to filter in through their makeshift link.

In a twirl of light and sound and sense, Spock suddenly found himself in… Engineering?

He was viewing it from high up in the gallery, from a state of mind rather than body. Though he still had control and awareness of his own mind, Jim's thoughts and feeling were as clear as his own, as if he were part of both beings. He was instantly aware of Jim's physical presence, swinging his feet over the edge with only the bar to stop him from falling a hundred feet to the floor below. Spock felt a twinge of annoyance but remembered if he was not careful, Kirk might be affected by his own thoughts. He smothered these, becoming objective and allowing the young cadence of Jim's mind to settle into him as if they were one.

Mr. Scott—Scotty—was there with them, him; Jim.

Jim liked Scotty; the man's accent was funny and he took him down into the ship whenever he asked. Right now Jim was high up and could see everything going on deep in the ship. As he sat on the edge of a walkway with his feet hanging over the edge and his arms over a lower guardrail, he saw everything from minor human folly to brilliance, all tucked away behind glimmering tanks and steel doors so thick that if they were hollow, he could probably squeeze his small body in them with no trouble. Scotty talked over the roar, knowing exactly how to make himself heard. The noise—a great and thunderous background of mechanical music—had shocked him upon arrival on his first day; the moment the turbolift doors opened it accosted his ears almost unpleasantly. The whir of the engines when the ship accelerated into warp drive, or powered down to use thrusters was not as loud, and he liked that. The constant hiss of steam and water moving through endless glass pipes tangled his mind; he wished he knew how it was all connected.

"So—" Scotty continued with his explanation to one of Jim's questions, "the generator must supply the pump with the amount of energy required for the turbines to spin at approximately 650 rotations per minute, or—" The Scotsman paused for effect to which Jim turned to him indulgently—"just enough times to get the water from down here to up there where ye use it te brush yer teeth and the kitchens to make all kinds of—well—" he blushed, coughing in embarrassment "—almost everything the ship does uses water. And that's what that does." He pointed to a giant cylindrical pump. "Hydro Engineering at its best." Scotty seemed to daze off then, his fingers pausing in their calculations at the station a little off from Jim.

Jim nodded, though he didn't really understand everything Scotty said to him. Scotty was fun and took him places Spock never would, but he didn't know how to really talk to Jim. Of course he did a little, but there was a difference between being talked to like a child, and an adult. Jim was four; he couldn't understand everything, but if you put in simple terms he usually did. Spock wasn't really any better at it, but he would usually stop and realize Jim didn't follow, then he would rephrase it. Usually he got it the second time. But there was a difference between the other crew and Spock. Uhura was like a mom to him, all the boys like big brothers, and even McCoy had a place as a kind of dad, always watching out for his wellbeing and telling everybody when it was "too much excitement for one day; put Jim down, Sulu!" Jim giggled under his breath. It was never too much, but he supposed there was a point, somewhere. He just hadn't found it yet.

But—that was the difference. He couldn't place Spock like he placed everybody else. Spock was his safe place, the place he went to when he was tired and sleepy, or hungry or cold. It made his tummy hurt sometimes just being away from him for too long.

"Really?" Jim said, just to get his mind back to reality. "But how do you keep the electricity away from all the water, if the ship uses it for everything?" He knew that would be a problem. Scotty was talking about all this water, and then the electricity, but Kirk knew that the two didn't go together. If they did it made it spark, and that wasn't good.

"We keep the water in tubes and the electricity running through wires. If we can help it, the two never touch. They're needed for different things, too, so they never need to be close. Although—" Scotty's face lit up and he turned to Jim "—sometimes when people do need electricity and water together they take all the stuff out of it—" Jim scrunched his face up; he didn't know even clean water had stuff in it. "And then they can use the two together."

"But when would they use them together?"

Scotty was silent as he tapped in several figures that corresponded to the ones on the PADD he was holding on his arm. "Well, we don't very often, because it's a tricky thing, but when we do it's sometimes to cool down vast amounts of nuclear energy that—if it were to heat up, which it does naturally—would create a huge mess that would take many years to clean up. In history there have been several—ehm, explosions—and I can tell ye right now to mix the two is never easy. They can have a great reward though; once they learn to work together." Scotty chuckled.

Jim looked down at the people scuttling in and along the generators. There must be good reasons people use the two together when it could endanger other people so badly.

As the young boy pondered this, something caught his attention. He sniffed the air. That smelled like the same thing that sometimes wafted in from the garage when Uncle Frank would smelter something. It was always a sickening smell that made Jim go inside or upwind whenever he could. There wasn't much of it, but he noticed it. He looked around. Other people didn't seem to be reacting to anything. And nothing looked to be wrong. Maybe it was just his imagination…

Or not.

Jim sprang to his feet and looked around in alarm. Where was that coming from?

"Of course, nuclear power is used in the engines. I dinna think of that—"

"Scotty!"

Scotty jumped, turning to him. "What—what is it, lad? I—What is that?"

"Look!" Jim pointed frantically over the railing. There was no denying what he saw.

Scotty looked to where he pointed and went pale. Down below, smoke had begun to billow out of one of the generators. People had noticed it too, and now there came frightened cries and scrambling of anyone within sight. Kirk stared in frozen horror.

Scotty scrambled away from the ledge to the control center he had just been working on and pressed the emergency alert. This initiated a blaring claxon and the lights went red to alert the ship of the worst kind of danger, a danger even Klingons and Romulans could not rival—fire.

"Captain!" Scotty shouted into the comm., an unshakable determination in his voice.

"Mr. Scott, what is the emergency?"

Spock, now alert and paying close attention to everything that was happening, surreally heard his own voice coming from the comm. unit.

Kirk jerked his eyes to the unit and Spock felt the young human's yearning for him pass through and settle in his chest. It was heavy and wilful and had an odd taste to it. As if his inaction to this feeling was a betrayal.

I am here, Spock sent in a thimble's worth of reassurance. He felt Kirk's reaction, just a slight steadying of his suddenly jumbled mind. He was afraid, but held onto this as Spock had seen few humans demonstrate even well into adulthood.

"Fire, Captain!" Scotty ended the call and rushed into the adjacent hall, intent on putting out the flames. Kirk squeaked, realizing he was alone.

Moments later, thankfully, Scotty reappeared. Kirk looked up at him, his relief melting to terror again because he knew with a rational mind that, somehow, it didn't matter if he was alone or not. On a Starship, everyone feared fire. This knowledge brought tears brimming to his eyes; they were all in danger.

Scotty quickly but carefully picked Kirk up, balancing him in his arms, to rush off down the hall. Kirk buried his face in the engineer's shirt and held on tightly.

The smoke hadn't reached the halls yet but Kirk could smell it. It was a horrible smell, one laced with acid and electricity.

"Dover! Thank god."

Scotty stopped at the station where two crewmembers were working frantically on the system. The one closest stopped in his work to glance at Scotty, his desperate mounting when he saw Kirk was with him.

"Take Kirk up to the Bridge, just take him somewhere else. I canna have him down here and I have to—" Scotty broke off when an explosion rocked the ship, making them all stumble. When he thought it was safe, he set Kirk down.

"Jim, you'll be alright going with Tommy, aye?"

Jim nodded, "Yeah. Where are you going Scotty?" his voice shook and he clutched the hem of his shirt.

"I have to go and make sure that fire gets put out. So be good for Tommy and I'll see ye later, brave lad."

Kirk could only stare in open-mouthed speechlessness as Scotty hurried away. He started when Dover knelt in front of him, his face too close. Kirk backed away slightly, scared and shy.

"Hi, Jim." Tommy smiled, though it didn't reassure Jim any. "We're friends, okay? I'm going to take you up where it's safe, so you have to trust me. Can you do that?" His eyes were honest, and betrayed only a hint of the fear the young lieutenant felt. He was also serious, and asked Kirk to plainly, waiting even though there wasn't any time to spare, that Jim nodded quickly.

"Uh-huh."

Dover smiled quickly, relieved, and scooped Kirk up. He shouted something in the other man's ear over the roar coming from the lower levels. The man nodded and resumed frantic work. Kirk was scared for him as they rushed away. Dover held Kirk tightly as he sped up several flights of stairs. Kirk dared to look this time, though when the smoke was suddenly choking he gasped and turned his head away, coughing into Dover's shirt.

"Oh god."

Jim heard the uttered oath of horror and felt Dover pause. He couldn't help but peek out and see what had stopped him. Through the smoke, Jim saw the silhouettes of two people. A tall man pounded on something extruding from the wall, Jim didn't know what it was, and a woman lay on the floor holding his pant leg. Jim gasped, and then started choking on the smoke again.

Dover quickly put Jim down and rushed over. Jim wobbled on his own at being put down so fast, and pressed himself to the side of the corridor automatically. He watched, coughing occasionally, as Dover tried to help the man with the machinery. Jim looked around; maybe if he could find some help the woman would be okay… oh—there. Down the hall there looked like somebody was using a panel.

Without looking back, Jim rushed over as fast as he could. But just as he got there the man disappeared into the smoke. Jim was too surprised to call out, and now the smoke was hurting his throat. He swallowed and looked around again. There wasn't anybody anywhere, in any direction. But, somebody had to come eventually. If he just stayed there—no, he had to go. Those people needed help. Desperately he craned his neck trying to see through the warm grey haze. He took a few shaky steps to see down the end of a corridor, and leaned around the corner.

He gasped; it was Spock. He had been wishing to find Spock but—

Spock, eyes closed, lay on the ground unmoving, his head tilted towards Jim.

No, no, no, no…

Kirk was paralyzed, staring at the body. He began to shake, and then sob. He was suddenly there, on the ground beside Spock. His vision was blurry as tears ran down his face and smoke wafted around him. It wasn't real, it couldn't be. He couldn't tear his eyes away, and each second made the blackness close in on him just a little bit more. Sound faded out and all that was left was the cold. He sobbed again, and a hand was on his shoulder. He didn't even look, the grief filling up his chest like he was drowning in it. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't—!

Jim heaved, the cold air a shock to his body. Again, not again. His face was red and tear stained, and the hand on his shoulder scared him. He jumped up, turning around to see Spock kneeling on the floor, his face for all the world looking worried for some unfathomable reason. Kirk was struck with a wave of relief, and his dreams were all suddenly just smoke, gone. He rushed into Spock's arms, letting a tidal wave of hurt and relief and comfort and never ending love—Spock, Spock, Spock, never leave, please please never never never, don't leave me I couldn't—I couldn't—"

"Jim."

Jim's thoughts quieted at the ghost of his name and Spock's warm arms pulling him close, holding him, rubbing him silently. He pressed his face to Spock's shirt and gripped it, crying quietly.

"Spock." He mumbled through tears and fabric. His throat hurt. He coughed and hiccupped, the cool air like cleansing water. He sighed, sniffling, just being still as he felt the steady rhythm of Spock's heart lower down. Spock was warm, and if he relaxed Spock's arms held him. Safe.

"Ka'i. Ka'i, ka'i…" the warm words whispered were soothing, as though their meaning were crystal clear. Here. Together. Safe.

X

It was long minutes before Kirk stirred. Spock looked down at him and found a small smile for the human. Kirk smiled in return, but it was tired.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Jim?" Spock's voice was low but he spoke to Kirk as if he were an adult.

"Could I please have some milk?"

Spock's eyebrows knit together and he recalled an instance, once, when he was young, of his mother offering him warmed milk during the night when he could not sleep. He had thought it odd then but now he wondered if it was practice among humans. It could not hurt, and Jim seemed to need it at this moment.

"Yes, I believe that would be acceptable."

Spock started to get up, holding Kirk in his arms, when Jim spoke up.

"Can I stand, please?" he wriggled just a bit and Spock set him down on the floor, holding his hand for a moment to be sure he was able to stand. Jim wobbled but then released Spock, going with him to the kitchen. Spock, while keeping an eye on Kirk who seemed to be interested in seeing everything that happened up on the counter, pressed a few buttons on the replicator. It was mere seconds before a glass materialized with the milk. Spock opened the machine and took the glass. He knelt down so as to be eye-level with Kirk, and carefully held it out to him. Kirk smiled gratefully and took it.

"Thank you, Spock," he held the glass in his small hands and Spock suddenly worried about its weight. Kirk looked with large, drooping eyes at the glass, and after a second lifted it to his lips to take a long, content drink.

He licked his lips and sighed as the liquid made him feel full and sleepy. Then Spock had the glass and he was in bed, Spock's warm arms around him. That night, and all the nights after, he slept without nightmares when Spock was near.