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It was supposed to be a normal away mission.
Every away mission was supposed to be routine, supposed to be peaceful, supposed to have no casualties.
It was a testament to Spock’s mental state that he could see the humor in how quickly everything had gone downhill.
Spock was slumped against the wall, chains holding his arms above his head, covered in blood. Green and red mixed together and created an ugly brown, staining Spock’s shirt and the ground around him.
Jim and Leonard were limp on the floor a few feet in front of him.
They were dying.
Spock couldn’t reach them.
“The demon lives.” Spock twisted to see the Leftossinot’s clawed blue feet approach him. He averted his eyes, turning back to Jim and Leonard’s bodies (not corpses, bodies, they were still alive, Spock could still save them) and listening to the alien’s footsteps become wet as they stepped into the puddle of blood.
“Release me,” he commanded, trying to sound like he wasn’t afraid. His voice shook.
“No,” said the alien simply. They walked towards Jim and Leonard and nudged them with their foot.
“Don’t touch them!” Spock snapped, pulling as far forward as he could with the chains ripping at his wrists.
“They are still alive,” they said indifferently.
“Do not touch them,” he growled again.
“You cannot help them, Demon.” They laughed. “You cannot reach. It is comedic to watch you.”
Spock panted, breathing shakily. He dropped his head for a moment. He was so tired. “Please,” he tried.
“Pathetic,” the alien spat.
“They are dying,” he begged, “please, allow me to help them, please! They will die!”
The puddle of blood was growing. Spock couldn’t tell whose it was anymore. It was all a muddy brown. Jim was bent awkwardly over Leonard, head resting on his chest, and Leonard’s arms were twisted behind him.
Spock felt dizzy.
“Fine.”
Spock snapped his eyes up to the Leftossinot’s. They were regarding him carefully, sadistically.
“I will save them,” they said. “But not you, Demon.”
“Thank you,” Spock breathed. It was enough.
The alien touched him and everything went black.
-----
Spock opened his eyes.
He was on a grassy field, sitting against a tree. Jim and Leonard were on either side of him, smiling, looking out at the beautiful sunset on the horizon.
Spock remembered this. This was the planet Thrauvampu, where he had been not long ago.
“Hello,” said Spock, confused. “Where am I?”
Neither Jim nor Leonard responded. “Look at the sky,” Jim sighed.
“It’s beautiful out here,” agreed Leonard.
The same words they had spoken when they were on the planet before. He must be reliving the memory.
It was a pleasant memory. Spock didn’t think he minded.
“The flora of this planet is aesthetically pleasing,” Spock tested, quoting himself.
“You’re so silly, Spock,” Jim laughed, a perfect echo of Spock’s memory, leaning his head on Spock’s shoulder and gently grabbing one of his hands. Leonard did the same.
They felt so real.
Spock knew it wasn’t.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole.”
“It is logical to admire organisms that are required for the continuation of life,” Spock said numbly. He stared at his hands, at Jim and Leonard’s hands in his.
“You see this? He’s always so pigheaded,” said Leonard, and Spock didn’t remember his tone being this angry.
“That’s Spock,” Jim said, similarly brusque. The sunlight was disappearing fast. The sky turned red, like Vulcan, and Jim and Leonard turned to Spock, no longer smiling.
“This is your fault, Spock,” said Leonard plainly, half bent over, stomach ripped open, guts spilling out like thick red ropes.
“Your fault,” said Jim, blood pouring out of his crumpled head.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
“Look at the sky,” Jim sighed.
“It’s beautiful out here,” agreed Leonard.
Spock looked in horror. They were back to smiling, but their organs were not replaced.
“You’re so silly, Spock,” Jim laughed, even though Spock didn’t say his line, and leaned his broken head on Spock’s shoulder, blood spilling as if from a cup onto Spock’s clean tunic, and he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, and Jim and Leonard each grabbed a hand and gripped it with slippery, red fingers and Spock could feel the contempt through the touch.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole. …You see this? He’s always so pigheaded,” said Leonard angrily.
“That’s Spock.” And they looked at him with dead eyes and Spock stared back with shamefully alive ones.
“This is your fault, Spock,” said Leonard plainly, half bent over, stomach ripped open, guts spilling out like thick red ropes.
“Your fault,” said Jim blood pouring out of his crumpled head.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
“Look at the sky,” Jim sighed.
“It’s beautiful out here,” agreed Leonard.
Spock wanted to cry.
“You’re so silly, Spock.” Warm blood dripped down Spock’s chest. Hate rippled through the wet fingered touch on Spock’s hands.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole.”
“I love you,” Spock sobbed.
“You see this? He’s always so pigheaded.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“That’s Spock.” Jim and Leonard turned to him again, scowling, and Spock couldn’t breathe.
“I love you.”
“This is your fault, Spock,” said Leonard plainly, half bent over, stomach ripped open, guts spilling out like thick red ropes.
“I love you,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
“Your fault,” said Jim, blood pouring out of his crumpled head.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
“Look at the sky,” Jim sighed.
“It’s beautiful out here,” agreed Leonard.
This wasn’t real. Spock knew it wasn’t real.
“You’re so silly, Spock.” Spock was covered in Jim’s blood, but it wasn’t real. Those weren’t their real hands.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole.”
Not real. Not real. Not real.
“You see this? He’s always so pigheaded,” said Leonard.
Not real. Not real. Not real.
“That’s Spock.” They turned to him, not real blood and not real organs splattering, and it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.
“This is your fault, Spock,” said Leonard plainly.
“Your fault,” said Jim.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
Spock didn’t open his eyes.
“Look at the sky.”
“It’s beautiful out here.”
“The flora of this planet is aesthetically pleasing,” said Spock, saying his line again for the first time since the first round. If he kept his eyes shut tight, he could almost imagine it was normal again.
“You’re so silly, Spock.” Spock felt wet. It was just water, he decided. Just warm water. Warm water running down Spock’s body, warm water on Jim and Leonard’s hateful hands.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole.”
“It is logical to admire organisms that are required for the continuation of life,” Spock said.
“You see this? He’s always so pigheaded.”
“That’s Spock.”
“This is your fault, Spock.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
“Look at the sky.”
“It’s beautiful out here.”
Spock decided this was fine.
“You’re so silly, Spock,” Jim laughed, dripping blood down Spock’s shoulder, holding his hand, Leonard doing the same.
If this meant the real Jim and Leonard (this wasn’t real, this wasn’t real, this wasn’t real) were alive, then it was all okay.
It was all okay.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole. …You see this? He’s always so pigheaded.”
“That’s Spock.” They turned to him, gory, but it was okay. It was better than the real (not real, not real, not real) versions of them looking like that. They were alive, it was fine, it was fine, fine fine--
“This is your fault, Spock.”
“Your fault.”
Spock closed his eyes.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
Spock wondered when it would end.
“Look at the sky,” Jim sighed.
“It’s beautiful out here,” agreed Leonard.
Not yet.
“You’re so silly, Spock,” Jim laughed. Maybe not ever.
“Spock loves flowers,” Leonard informed Jim factually. “They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole.”
If Spock repeated this forever, it was okay.
“You see this? He’s always so pigheaded,” said Leonard, and Spock didn’t remember his tone being this angry.
“That’s Spock,” Jim said.
It was okay.
“This is your fault, Spock.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
Spock didn’t even open his eyes anymore.
He was just wet.
“Look at the sky.”
“It’s beautiful out here.”
“You’re so silly, Spock.”
“Spock loves flowers. They make him happy but he refuses to admit it because he’s a stubborn, pointy-eared asshole. You see this? He’s always so pigheaded.”
“That’s Spock.”
“This is your fault, Spock.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“Your fault your fault your faultyourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault--”
-----
“Look at the sky.”
“It’s beautiful out here.”
And then it ended.
And Spock was real again.
And Jim and Leonard were standing in front of him.
“Spock, are you okay?” said Leonard.
Jim was holding him. Spock stared blankly into his eyes. “Spock?”
“I am adequate,” he said, and was unable to keep himself from crying.