Work Text:
1.
"A time anomaly. Fascinating."
Spock was the obvious person to go to for help, and he was remarkably unsarcastic about it -- likely distracted by the problem to solve. Leonard could almost see the wheels turning in Spock's quick brain.
"We've got five hours before the Enterprise explodes and I do this again, so let's figure out what's causing it. I wrote down everything I can remember from the first time. Here."
"This is only your second time around?" One eyebrow quirked up. "Impressive."
Leonard snorted, more pleased than he wanted to admit. "Not like it's never happened to us before."
2.
"A time anomaly. Fasci--"
"Can we skip this and get to the part where you help?" Leonard had spent the usual half-hour or so frantically transcribing everything he could remember from their previous six loops. "The information's on your console," he added impatiently, when Spock started to speak again.
Waiting for Spock to get up to speed was always the worst part. He couldn't even enjoy being ahead for a change.
"Comprehensive," Spock remarked. "I would have arranged it similarly."
"Yeah, on the last loop you told me how." He tried not to be flattered by the almost-compliment.
3.
"We cannot get through this one try at a time," Spock panted. They were on loop twenty-nine, by Leonard's reckoning. "Your ability to remember is impressive, for a human --"
"I'm a trained medical doctor, not a monkey," Leonard snapped back through the smoke, if only to distract himself from knowing they were about to die, again.
"But I need more." The look he gave Leonard was ... apologetic. "I must speak to myself."
"Oh, fine, go ahead." No need for niceties at this stage. He closed his eyes and braced himself as the dry, warm fingers settled on his temple.
4.
"A time anoma--"
"Shut up, the information's in my brain from the other you, just read it." Leonard leaned forward with his hands on Spock's desk and closed his eyes. "And it's giving me a headache. Hurry up."
The brush of fingers against his temple was more tentative than he remembered from the last time, just minutes ago for him. The feeling of Spock ghosting across his mind was like deja vu. He staggered a little when Spock's hand jerked away.
"Yes, that is helpful." Spock turned to his console, and Leonard tried not to feel a flicker of loss.
5.
After five loops of this, Leonard simply grabbed Spock's hand by the wrist and shoved it against his face. "Time loop," he said as Spock went abruptly rigid, only remembering too late how sensitive Vulcans were to touch. Oh well, it wouldn't matter when they died again.
Of course that was the loop when they stopped the overload.
After, they sat on the floor and looked at each other. Jim and Scotty were demanding updates on different channels. Leonard reached for his combadge, but Spock hit his first. "We are fine. Await my report."
Then there was silence. Into it, Spock said quietly, "How many times?"
"About thirty-four, I think." He didn't want to ask, but he did anyway. "How much did you ... see?"
"Glimpses." Spock looked down at his hands.
The sense-memory of those fingertips on Leonard's brow was all too vivid. He hadn't thought he could get used to someone ramming their memories into his head, but now he felt stupidly bereft.
"Sorry about, uh." He didn't look at Spock, just mimed waving a hand next to his head. "That. I was agitated. And emotional. All those things. Anyway, sorry, I got carried away and it won't happen again."
The feeling of Spock's fingertips brushing the back of his hand was completely unexpected. Light, barely there.
"I am not sorry," Spock said quietly.
With impeccable timing, Jim again--
"Not to bother you gentlemen but if you wouldn't mind coming up to my ready room ...?"
"On our way," Leonard said. He tapped his combadge off, and carefully removed his hand from Spock's, but not without brushing his fingers against Spock's knuckles, awkward as a kid with a crush. "Uh ... discuss this later?"
"I will look forward to it." A sideways glimmer of a smile, there and gone.