Night 49: Group Therapy Room 4

[simplemechanics]

[From here.]"Where-" Reeve began, but his words caught in his throat as he stepped into the hall. Or rather, what was not the hall. He cast his flashlight beam into the corners of the room, and found the space tight, constricted and limited. His thoughts became a jumble as he rearranged his expectations. This was the wrong place. In the dark, it

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[hes_deadjim]

[from here]

This room was just as unfamiliar as the last, although he could guess its function. Several chairs, a muted gray color, were gathered around a circular table, all on top of an equally drab brown carpet. A communal layout if he'd ever saw one, more conducive for talking in a group and making individuals feel like they were among equals than having a rectangular set up. Either this room was for therapy or it was a lounge.

McCoy was more inclined to believe the first, especially since the rooms dedicated to the staff had been slicker and furnished better. There were some pictures hanging around, but it looked more like a halfhearted attempt at sprucing the room up.

As far as generating a safe and encouraging atmosphere, this struck him as more moderately depressing than soothing.

He guided the flashlight around the room. It didn't take too long. The room wasn't nearly as large as the other ones, and unless he planned on giving Spock an impromptu therapy session (not that decor, layout or atmosphere would have mattered to a Vulcan in the first place), there wasn't much to do here.

"Spock, has it occurred to you that we could be stuck in a loop?" he finally asked. The question had been hovering at the back of his mind ever since they'd confirmed the doors. He dearly hoped not. Bad enough they were beaming all over the place, but having to do this until they either gave up, starved or died of dehydration?

[dual_worlds]

As Spock walked with the doctor toward the door, he was under the distinct impression that this particular McCoy had indeed experienced more than his statistical share of transporter accidents. Brief images of a man divided into two distinct beings flashed through Spock's mind -- the recollection was not his own, but it came as naturally as if it had been. Still, Spock was not concerned by it. No doubt it was a product of his meld with Jim, and only served to shed further light on the apparent connection between this Star Trek program and the universe his other counterpart had originally hailed from.

But he and the captain had decided it was best not to discuss such issues with McCoy or Chekov. Consequently, Spock remained silent as they stepped through the door and entered the next room. As he suspected, it was yet another area he had not visited before.

The Vulcan slowly brought his light across the area, making certain there were no overt signs of danger. While McCoy may have noticed the design of the room, such details were simply not of any importance to Spock. Instead, he took note of a table that seemed to contain a variety of foods, either for the use of staff or patients who were required to spend a shift here. Although it certainly would have been easy to assemble some food and beverages to use as a potential provisions kit for later use, Spock thought it was odd that they would leave such items out in the first place. Taking items for their own use would possibly carry its own risks.

Upon hearing McCoy's comment, he glanced toward him. "It has," he replied. "We may find ourselves being transported from room to room for the remainder of the night." That meant they would be unable to complete any of their objectives for tonight; however, it was also serving as a quick way to see what sorts of rooms and areas they could potentially investigate later.

[hes_deadjim]

And clearly the prospect didn't bother him. That was even if this just lasted the night and didn't extend longer.

"I never pegged you for an optimist, Spock. And what if it's longer than just this night?" McCoy pointed out. Dealing with it for several hours would be an inconvience at most, somewhat useful they were seeing new ground, but they didn't have a frame of reference for it or how to get to any of them. Dealing with it for days on end would be something else, especially when they certainly weren't prepared for it: no extra food, no water, nothing.

Spock hadn't risen to the bait like he usually would have, and McCoy didn't think it was due to a difference in where he'd come from. If there was one thing a Vulcan couldn't resist, it was both an instinctive need to completely miss sarcasm and to have the last word. If he knew his Spocks well, and he thought he did, he would have argued him over why it was illogical in the first place to expect a First Officer to assume the role of a counselor in the first place, especially when he had no actual qualifications for the job. Spock instead had been silent, deep in thought. He was as unreadable as any of the walls here: he'd play an incredible game of poker if Vulcans actually bluffed.

Spock also wasn't going to share it until he felt ready, and no amount of poking and prodding at him was going to make him budge. McCoy watched him expectantly out of the corner of his eye anyway, but he remained silent on the matter.

"Unless you're interested in some therapy-," he said. "-I don't think we'll find anything here."

[dual_worlds]

"Thus far, the institute has always reverted back to its typical facade in the morning, Doctor," Spock reminded him. There were some minor exceptions, of course, such as the period in which the I.R.I.S. system announced the day's events, but the nurses continued with their daily activities as though they were unaware of the difference. For the most part, one of the few constants that surrounded their captivity were the mundane activities the staff forced the patients to engage in. While he certainly couldn't discount the possibility that their situation could stretch for a longer period of time, the fact remained that there simply wasn't a precedent for it.

In short, he was neither an optimist nor a pessimist. Spock simply examined the information he knew and made his judgments accordingly. Clearly, McCoy would do well to learn the difference and apply it to his own way of thinking.

"We may form a plan regarding what to do for the long term if we discover we have not reached our quarters by sunrise," he added. They couldn't decide it wasn't a threat, true, but to dwell on such issues when they had more pressing ones at hand was a waste of precious time.

After giving the room a final sweep with his light, Spock turned toward the door. Still, McCoy's comment did not go unheard. "I would rather we direct our attention to something of use," he told him before leading the way through the door once more.

((To here.))