Spock leans down and slides an arm around your back, hoisting you up against his side. “Did you not hear the Red Alert? Engineering is being evacuated.” He brings you to the adjacent hallway, outside Engineering, and sets you down safely.
“Must've slipped my mind,” you reply, closing your eyes, putting your head between your knees.
“Are you unwell?”
“Panic attack,” you reply quickly, feeling your stomach tensing up.
Spock doesn't say a word; you look up to see confusion on his face. His eyes meet yours. “What... can I do?”
You take deep breaths in and out as the ship starts to shake beneath you. “I'm fine. It'll pass.”
“I'm sorry, the complexities of human emotions escape me. There is no need to be anxious, [Y/n]. Anxiety is the meaningless fear of a future that may or may not not occur.”
Your eyes flash open, your Klingon anger asserting itself. “Not helping, Spock! So not helping!”
“Should I take you to Sick--?”
“--Spock,” you say, breathlessly as the ship vibrates even harder, “I really just need a moment to breath. I can't breath.”
Spock places his fingers on either side of your face as your breathing becomes more erratic. Instantly, your mind is taken somewhere else, somewhere peaceful where your thoughts are calm and your breathing is normal. “Calm yourself,” he mumbles. “It will be all right. The Captain has control of this ship. Nothing bad is going to occur. You are safe. You are safe with me.”
After moments of mental calm, the ship's Red Alert goes away. Spock pulls back from the Mind Meld. “Are you well enough to get to Sick Bay?”
You nod. “I think so.” Spock pulls you up again. “Thanks.”
“It was the logical thin--”
“--Learn to take a thank you, Spock.”
YOU ARE READING
300 Words: The Star Trek Imagines
FanfictionStar Trek imagines in 300 words! REQUESTS ARE OPEN. - This Book Is Dedicated To Anton Yelchin 1989 - 2016 Rest In Peace, Chekov. To Leonard Nimoy 1931 - 2015 Rest In Peace, Spock. To James Doohan 1920 - 2005 Rest In Peace, Scotty. And To DeForest Ke...
