Sometimes, Jim felt like the world around him was thurmbing. It was the only word he could think of that could describe a sensation like what he was having now. Like the world, the universe, was thrumbing. Vibrating, moving in at him, then away. Like an optical illusion, or a mind game. It was like the universe was breathing, and sighing, and breathing, and sighing. In, out. In, out. It was a ridiculous metaphor, but it made sense when his eyesight swam and he felt claustrophobic and exposed at the same time. Perhaps it was that plant he sniffed back on Adurion, maybe it was the unsatisfying replicated food. But it had started recently and had cropped up more than once. Every time so far he'd been alone and in his room, listening to space pant and hearing something akin to his own voice talking to him. Or someone. Or something. And whatever he was saying, he wasn't sure if it was just himself talking, or the universe fucking with him yet again.

Unfortunately, today the first wave of heavy breathing hit him light a bullet on the bridge. He was talking to someone out of his sight about something, and the room just began running away from him at a rapid speed he couldn't match with is eyes. Everything just expanded, voices went far away. He gripped his chair and waited, and just as expected it all came rushing back. It came back, and so close, he knocked himself to the floor not to get hit by the flying navigation console. He could hear himself by that time, talking about something he couldn't quite make out, then felt his own mouth moving as he struggled to reach for the fleeing Captain's chair. He missed it and his hand hit the floor heavily, rolling him onto his side.

And then it all stop, and everything was fine. He was sprawled out on the floor, panting at the ceiling, and the beeps and whirrs of the bridge came back all-naturale. People were shouting orders and he felt something warm and very solid heave him up off the floor, then came face-to-face with a dark blue science tunic.

"Spock, I'm perfectly fine."
"Unlikely." He was walking faster than normal and in no time they were in and out of the turbo lift and headed down deck four towards Jim's second cabin, the sick bay. "You were reciting the Algorithm to find the appropriate number of life forms per curved cubic yard of space."
"I know that algorithm?"
"You do not."

"Crazy." He stared into the blue fabric as he was carried, indignant but accepting that, if a Vulcan was carrying you, they were going to carry you, despite your rank or how much you bitch about it. "Guess I do now."
"Can you replicate it?"
"Nope."
"Then you do not know it."

"Am I possessed?"
"Highly unlikely." Spock turned down another hallway and completely missed sick bay, if Jim's internal directional system was for par.

"Where are we going?"
"Doctor McCoy's private quarters. If you lapse into another episode such as your previously administered, it would be favorable to keep it 'behind closed doors'."
"Not to scare the crew."
"Precisely." He didn't even bother to knock, stepping into the room when the door beeped. McCoy jumped, standing by his computer and changing out data cartridges. "Doctor, before you allude to some sort of sarcastic metaphor to my physical appearance and happenstance upon your allotted private time, I would feel the need to inform you that the Captain has lapsed into a fit of sorts. Computer, Bridge, 08.06 to 08.30."
"Holy shit, I was out that long?" Jim blinked blankly as Spock laid him on the bed. He made to sit up, and Spock pushed him back down.

McCoy went around to his computer, crossing his arms and tapping his lip with the data cartridge he'd been holding. "...Good God."

"Please remain laying, Captain."

"..." McCoy turned around, eyes hard. "Jim, has this ever happened before?"

"I dunno about the cosmic equations, but the...flailing around does, I guess. It didn't feel like that long." He frowned, watching himself on the computer. "And I thought I was just laying there."
He watched McCoy drag Spock over to the other side of the tiny room, talking very quietly. It probably had something to do with 'why did you let Jim flail around like a seizure-ing monkey for half and hour' which then probably got a response like 'as you can see, we had him physically restrained until the time of his quieting' or something Spock-ian and Bones would say something like 'well you should have called me' and Spock would respond with something witty and now Jim's head hurt and he needed to close his eyes.

"Guys?"
"What Jim?" ("Yes Captain?")

"Can I get a headache hypo or something?" Bones dug through a draw before coming back over, popping him in the neck. "Ow, fuck. Thanks."
"How long has this been going on?" Bones got that mother look, the one that says 'you broke my vase, and you told me the dog did it, you're in trouble mister'. He rolled back onto his back and closed his eyes, taking a long breath. "Jim."
"Sh, I'm thinking. Um, maybe three weeks? Could it be that flower?"
"No, it was harmless." He frowned, sitting beside him and pressing his hand to Jim's forehead. "Eaten anything?"
"Not out of the ordinary."
"Fainting? Nausea?"

"Nope."

"...Anything abnormal besides the seizures?"
"Nope." He grunted. "I feel /fine/. When that happens, the world just.../breathes/. It goes out, and comes back in, and goes out, and comes back in, then it stops and Im fine."

"May I offer a suggestion?" They both turned to look at Spock, who, as much as a Vulcan could, looked concerned. "I have experienced something similar, though not to the debilitating extent as the Captain." Bones looked supremely interested. "It began after leaving Adurion. Not two days after our departure, I received a message from my elder self at the colonies. He explained to me that Adurion, in their dimension, was the last planet they examined before his captain was taken into what he referred to as The Nexus. It was around this time of earth-year."
"You think it could just be a warp because he's here?" Bones arched a brow.

"I am uncertain. However, the episodes have come fewer and far between as of late for myself."
"I haven't had one every hour, at least." Jim arched a brow.

"Doctor, may I speak with the Captain in solitude?" Spock arched a brow, and Bones got up grumbling about 'my room, hobgoblin.' Spock waited for the door to swing shut, before looking back at Jim. Jim just arched a brow. "There is another piece of information I felt the need to express to you soley."
"Yeah?" Jim crossed his arms. "What?"
Spock sat gingerly beside him, careful not to touch. "My elder self also informed me that the week of our visit to Adurion was the anniversary of his and his captain's wedding, as well as their making of the Bond." Jim stared, eyes blank. "The Bond I refer to is the bond of T'Hy'La, o—"
"You can tell me that later." Something seemed to wilt in his companion, but he was a bit more focused on something else. "They got married?"
"Yes." Spock stared at him in that way Jim could never figure out. Something almost expecting, but understanding he wouldn't be receiving what he was expecting. "They had been married twenty point one six years."

"Holy shit." Jim rubbed his eyes, flitting over the idea to attempt to interpret a Spock 'expression'. "So, we...they, were married."

"I have expressed a positive answer twice, Captain."
"I know, I just." He stared at the palms of his hands over his eyes. "Didn't see myself being married. Especially to you." The room seemed to drop a few degrees. "I don't mean that badly, but, I mean. Like."
"I understand." The bed seemed to lift a bit as a weight was removed and Jim dropped his eyes. Spock was headed for the door. "I shall leave you to rest, Captain, and allow the doctor to return to his quarters."
"Spock, I didn't mean that I don't think I would be happy, married to you. I just...we're friends, you know? It just seems like a crazy idea to think you would be interested in me. I mean, with all my 'illogic'—"

"I have expressed my understanding, Captain." Spock didn't pause in his stride. "Rest well. I will take the com as is my instruction." The door swooshed shut behind him, and Bones came in ranting about Vulcans and personal space. Jim didn't pay him much mind and remained fixated on the door. Something was buzzing in his head, that voice that usually states 'congratulations, Kirk, you screwed up again!' It wouldn't be the first time he'd upset his First Officer, and whoever's God knows it wouldn't be the last. But this particular screw-up hit him somewhere he hadn't been hit in a long time, and he rubbed his chest.

"Bones?"
"A—what?"
"Whats Thadya?"
"...Beg pardon?"
"Tahada, Tallahassee...Tuh..Vulcan something."
"T'Hy'La?"
"Yeah, what is that?"
"It's a bond between two people that lasts a lifetime. It's said to be the ultimate connection, it connects their souls to each other for ever, until one dies." He crossed his arms. "Why?"
Jim's frowned deepened to the point his brows knitted together, and the door became quite a repulsive object. "Nothing, Bones." He looked back at him. "Nothing out of the ordinary."