ship Olympics: Event 4: Team Lyre
Title: All Say Nothing
Creator: castofone @ rushedwords
Universe: AOS
Rating: pg-13
Words: 660
Summary: What happens when words fall apart. (Also known as music and microfiction.)
Warnings: Annnggsttt lil bit
Disclaimer: Team Lyre members own nothing of star trek but the fleeting images of squee and fingerkisses in our heads.
. download mix .
ONE
She jolts awake. The alarm blaring quickens up her pulse. Her mind is racing to catch up, to vocalize the command to stop the noise.
Nyota opens her mouth to speak and stops. She does that two more times before the panic sets in.
Her life is stuck on the tip of her tongue.
TWO
A message from medical interrupts his weekly department meeting.
"Damn it, this isn't about me messing with you," says McCoy. "I'm a doctor! This is about..." The pause is too long.
Whether it is Vulcan logic or human instinct, the conclusion is the same. Something is wrong.
(Even if he doesn't want to acknowledge it.)
THREE
The ship is both familiar and alien. And sickbay is no different. She can understand what's happening, but she has no way to share her experience.
And it just hurts.
There isn't a language that works. Even the tears she's holding back aren't enough. She's stuck in her head, screaming for someone to listen.
FOUR
"I was not aware anything was wrong."
"Yeah, well, no one did. It didn't even show up on initial scans. The good news is that it appears to be temporary."
McCoy is still talking, but Spock is focused on Nyota perched uneasily on the end of the biobed. It's illogical, but he thinks he should have known.
FIVE
She has tried to maintain her composure, but she's past that. Looking at Spock she knows it's bad.
They are six feet away and she can't feel him.
She had hoped that at least that would remain. Unable to do anything else, the missing words well up, until she's slamming a fist through the closest monitor.
SIX
"I'd like to try something."
She looks up at him and he thinks that he sees consent in her eyes, but he can't be sure. While he's never needed it explicitly before, this is different. Everything is different.
Steadying himself he makes the link. Neurons don't know language, so this should work. It has to work.
SEVEN
He knows now that she is the dead sea. Or she guesses he does. Really is looking at shapes in the dark.
She used to turn every nuance and syllable into such beautiful stories. Now, the world is a shredder bag of the greatest tales ever told.
And she's a just women deconstructed to nothingness.
EIGHT
When he returns to his quarters after his shift he removes his shoes and joins her in bed. Spock gathers her in his arms. He says nothing. There is nothing to say.
So, he holds her tight.
It is not a normal situation for them, but right now it's the only way they can communicate.
NINE
That night she dreams of a planet she went to once when she was a child. A planet that no longer exists.
"I'm scared," she whispers to a younger Spock who no longer exists.
"Then I must now ask you to be brave." In her dream his words are clear and latches on, never letting go.
TEN
After Nyota falls asleep, Spock uploads the reports from medical. There must be something that the doctor missed - patience cannot be the best form of treatment.
It is unacceptable.
Spock wakes her gently with what passes for sunrise on ship. Aware she can't understand, he speaks it anyway. "I think I might have a solution."
ELEVEN
Nyota watches him move through a world still full of shapes and sounds with blurry edges. And her heart breaks a little when he take the lyre down from the shelf.
She doesn't want this taken from her too.
Pressing her eyes closed, she wills herself to unhear what will follow.
Then she recognizes their song.
TWELVE
She's crying. And for a moment he assumes he was wrong about this. Then she shakes her head and comes to him. He is still, waiting for her.
She sits next to him, taking the lyre into her lap and she plays what she can't say.
It might not be enough, but right now it's everything.
Creator: castofone @ rushedwords
Universe: AOS
Rating: pg-13
Words: 660
Summary: What happens when words fall apart. (Also known as music and microfiction.)
Warnings: Annnggsttt lil bit
Disclaimer: Team Lyre members own nothing of star trek but the fleeting images of squee and fingerkisses in our heads.
. download mix .
ONE
She jolts awake. The alarm blaring quickens up her pulse. Her mind is racing to catch up, to vocalize the command to stop the noise.
Nyota opens her mouth to speak and stops. She does that two more times before the panic sets in.
Her life is stuck on the tip of her tongue.
TWO
A message from medical interrupts his weekly department meeting.
"Damn it, this isn't about me messing with you," says McCoy. "I'm a doctor! This is about..." The pause is too long.
Whether it is Vulcan logic or human instinct, the conclusion is the same. Something is wrong.
(Even if he doesn't want to acknowledge it.)
THREE
The ship is both familiar and alien. And sickbay is no different. She can understand what's happening, but she has no way to share her experience.
And it just hurts.
There isn't a language that works. Even the tears she's holding back aren't enough. She's stuck in her head, screaming for someone to listen.
FOUR
"I was not aware anything was wrong."
"Yeah, well, no one did. It didn't even show up on initial scans. The good news is that it appears to be temporary."
McCoy is still talking, but Spock is focused on Nyota perched uneasily on the end of the biobed. It's illogical, but he thinks he should have known.
FIVE
She has tried to maintain her composure, but she's past that. Looking at Spock she knows it's bad.
They are six feet away and she can't feel him.
She had hoped that at least that would remain. Unable to do anything else, the missing words well up, until she's slamming a fist through the closest monitor.
SIX
"I'd like to try something."
She looks up at him and he thinks that he sees consent in her eyes, but he can't be sure. While he's never needed it explicitly before, this is different. Everything is different.
Steadying himself he makes the link. Neurons don't know language, so this should work. It has to work.
SEVEN
He knows now that she is the dead sea. Or she guesses he does. Really is looking at shapes in the dark.
She used to turn every nuance and syllable into such beautiful stories. Now, the world is a shredder bag of the greatest tales ever told.
And she's a just women deconstructed to nothingness.
EIGHT
When he returns to his quarters after his shift he removes his shoes and joins her in bed. Spock gathers her in his arms. He says nothing. There is nothing to say.
So, he holds her tight.
It is not a normal situation for them, but right now it's the only way they can communicate.
NINE
That night she dreams of a planet she went to once when she was a child. A planet that no longer exists.
"I'm scared," she whispers to a younger Spock who no longer exists.
"Then I must now ask you to be brave." In her dream his words are clear and latches on, never letting go.
TEN
After Nyota falls asleep, Spock uploads the reports from medical. There must be something that the doctor missed - patience cannot be the best form of treatment.
It is unacceptable.
Spock wakes her gently with what passes for sunrise on ship. Aware she can't understand, he speaks it anyway. "I think I might have a solution."
ELEVEN
Nyota watches him move through a world still full of shapes and sounds with blurry edges. And her heart breaks a little when he take the lyre down from the shelf.
She doesn't want this taken from her too.
Pressing her eyes closed, she wills herself to unhear what will follow.
Then she recognizes their song.
TWELVE
She's crying. And for a moment he assumes he was wrong about this. Then she shakes her head and comes to him. He is still, waiting for her.
She sits next to him, taking the lyre into her lap and she plays what she can't say.
It might not be enough, but right now it's everything.