hurt-spock - Tumblr blog

hurt-spock · 26 days ago

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Blood (complete fic)

He could feel the sheer joy in the air around him.

McCoy, flying the bee had successfully manoeuvred the craft in time that they were able to save Jim's life, who in turn, had just defeated Krall and saved everyone on Yorktown.

McCoy was whooping with joy as he tried to find a way to land, while Kirk struggled to recover from his fight with Krall and Spock said nothing. He didn't monitor McCoy's attempts to land and he didn't engage Jim in conversation.

Instead he focused on himself. On his ebbing energy, on the injury that had been ripped and torn as he pulled against the sheer force pulling Jim away from him. He'd been certain he'd be pulled out along with the Captain but somehow, he'd managed to get him inside, but it cost him and he couldn't let them know that until they landed.

“Bones, what are you doing?” Kirk asked as the craft seemed to be ascending again.

“I have no idea how to land, okay. I don't want to crash again. One crash landing a life time is enough for me. Besides, I don't think you or Spock could stomach that.”

Kirk shook his head. “I'm fine, surface damage is all,” he assured. He looked to Spock, expecting him to insist he was fine too but Spock wasn't paying any attention to them any more, staring at some spot on the floor. “You need some help, Bones?” Kirk asked.

“If you think you can figure out how to land this, be my guest.” Bones shot back.

Kirk got up and headed towards the front, a supportive hand on Spock's shoulder as he passed.

Spock could hear them trying to figure out landing and soon enough, with a slight bump, they had landed safely.

He got up as the pair headed back towards him, swaying a little as he first got up. Jim headed out first and Spock heard the familiar voices of the crew as they greeted him. A little longer, Spock told himself. He steadied himself and McCoy scrutinise him. He was about to take a step closer, likely to assist him but Spock shook his head. “Not in front of the crew, Doctor.” Spock insisted.

“Whatever,” McCoy huffed heading out first, Spock following behind. He wondered vaguely if he'd offended the Doctor but he had to focus on suppressing the pain as they made his way after Jim, who seemed to be taking the crowds of the crew with him, McCoy just in his wake and Spock close behind him. He almost found himself faltering in his steps, the pace steady but each steps jolted the wound and he felt nausea rise in him.

Spock saw Kirk giving direction to Sulu and Chekov and them taking groups of the crew with them to different areas. Spock couldn't focus on what they were saying and he almost walked into Kirk and McCoy who had stopped just in front of him.

Kirk held onto his arm to steady him.

“You okay? You gonna collapse on me again?” McCoy asked.

Spock didn't feel particularly steady on his feet right then. “Unknown,” he said as a way of answering.

McCoy had noticed he'd gone back to covering his wound with his hand again. He wondered if there was a green patch forming underneath. Kirk headed into a building, McCoy and Spock following behind. Once they stepped inside, Spock turned to one of the workers in the building. “Do you have a restroom?” he asked. He was pointed towards a door and Spock headed for it. He heard McCoy call Jim's name and footsteps follow behind him.

He got through the door and braced himself at the sink.

He hung his head as he concentrated on breathing.

“What's wrong with him?” Jim asked.

“He just needs to get some proper medical care, that's all.” Bones said.

“So what are we doing in here?”

“Just give him a minute, okay.”

“He's not looking so good,” Kirk observed.

Spock took that moment to vomit in the sink.

“That's why we're in here,” McCoy said reaching over Spock and turning the tap on.

“He's bleeding again,” Kirk stated, pointing out the fresh blood on Spock's hand.

“Why don't you go and find out where the nearest transporter is. Once he's done in here that's the next stop.”

Kirk hesitated a moment before relenting and heading out.

Spock balked a few more times before he was finished. He scooped up a little water in one hand, which shook terribly, McCoy noticed, and rinsed his mouth out. “We'll get you out of here in a minute,” he promised. “I'll have you on the table, unconscious in seconds. You'll feel much better when you wake up.”

“Less pain, maybe. They will have no blood.” despite the choppy sentence, McCoy got the drift and he knew he was right.

That was true enough. If Spock needed surgery they were out of luck because there was little chance his body could withstand an operation on top of everything else. “Don't you worry about that.”

Spock didn't answer, instead turning back to the sink and vomiting again. That wasn't a good sign. Kirk got back just after Spock had finished cleaning his mouth out after the second bout of sickness.

“There's a medical unit on standby,” he said to McCoy.

McCoy nodded. “Grab his other arm,” he said.

Spock resisted the grip. “The crew-” he started.

“They're not out there, don't worry.” Kirk said.

They got to the door before Spock dropped to a dead weight in their arms.

“Crap!” Kirk said as the pair struggled to keep Spock off the floor. They made it through the door.

“We need some help here!” McCoy called. Several people came over and assisted them to the transporter. Kirk typed in the co-ordinates and they were gone in seconds.

“So?”

“It's a damn mess is what it is,” the doctor said as he entered into the room where Kirk and McCoy were waiting.

“Yeah, I know but there wasn't a lot of options out there.”

“Take it easy, Bones.” Kirk said, feeling the tension rise.

“There's a number of problems not least of which is that he's of mixed race and we don't have his blood here. I can't even begin to fix the damage because if something goes wrong, I have no back up supplies. We barely have supplies of Vulcan blood here, what with the Vulcan disaster. So the best I can do is a temporary fix that will hold him together to stop him losing more blood.”

“Pretty much the same as the Protophaser,” McCoy tells Jim.

“That's what you used? No wonder it tore. They were okay if you're laid up in bed. Even slight actions and they start to give way.”

“Okay, so you can patch him up until we can get him somewhere else then?” Kirk pressed

“No. The other problem, and don't take this the wrong way,” he said turning his attention to Bones. “Is that when you used the heat seal on the wound it's caused an infection. I've looked at his files and half of what I think would maybe work on him is either non-affective or he's had a reaction to at some point according to his medical files. I don't know what I can do for him.”

A knock at the door and a nurse appeared. “Doctor, you're needed.”

He nodded to her. “If you can think of anything then call me. I can't leave that infection untreated for long before I have to try something and I don't want to make this worse.”

Kirk nodded his understanding, McCoy deep in thought. Once the door closed and they were alone, McCoy sank onto the seat. “Dammit, this is all my fault.”

“Of course it's not your fault. He'd already be dead if it wasn't for you.”

“I know the risk of a heat seal. It dramatically increases the chance of infection.”

“So what other choice did you have? Leave him impaled, walking around? Because I'm sure that the piece of metal in his was completely sterile itself, right? And I'm sure crash landing on an alien planet there could have been nothing that could infect him out there either.”

Bones rested his head in his hands. He was exhausted. Everything was supposed to be okay now. He couldn't think straight. “I don't know what to do.” He confessed.

“Yes you do. I believe in you, Bones. Look, you can help him. I wish I could but I can't. So you tell me what you need me to do and I'll make it happen. People, equipment, whatever. I'll get it.”

“I need... coffee. I need a room, access to Spock's files. I need to contact New Vulcan. I new Miller, Mar'xia and Faeri from my staff- damn, I don't even know if they made it, Jim.”

“I'll find out.”

“You need to tell Uhura before she hears it from someone else.”

“I'll do it.”

“And.. I need to see Spock before I do anything else.”

“He's sedated, but he might come round if you're examining him.” the Nurse said.

“Do you have the scan of the injury?” Bones asked.

“They're all on this PADD here,” she indicated to one at the foot of the bed.

“Thank you.”

“I'll be outside if you need me.”

McCoy nodded. He waited for the nurse to leave before he really took a look at Spock. The colour of his face looked off. He always looked pale but this looked more than just a bit pale. Even his lips had lost the colour.

He turned to Spock's injured side and removed the thin sheets covering Spock's body. One look and he could see the signs of infection. There were areas of the skin where the heal seal had been ripped apart again and resealed by the doctor here. The skin was inflamed and weeping. The doctor was right, they couldn't afford to leave this for long before they had to treat it.

He covered Spock back over before he moved round to the PADD and took a look at the scans. He could see how close the injury was to several vital arteries. Completing the surgery without nicking one would be tricky.

At least the surgery could wait. Spock wouldn't be up and moving any time soon, but he was stable with the injury as it was. What he couldn't survive was the infection if that took hold.

His focus had to be on that.

He turned to leave before a familiar voice spoke to him.

“Doctor?”

McCoy sighed and turned back round.

“Did it work? Did we save the Captain?”

“You don't remember? Yeah, we did. Jim's fine.”

“For that, I am grateful.” Spock could barely keep his eyes open and McCoy realised he must be fighting off the sedation.

“You need to rest,” he told him.

“Don't tell Jim I wanted to leave,” he said. “He might not understand.”

“I'm not telling him anything.”

“And Nyota. Tell her... I am sorry.”

“Tell her yourself, I'm not your delivery service.” McCoy replied softly. “Come on, you really need to rest. I need you to keep fighting this.”

Spock winced in pain and curled himself up slightly.

“I'm gonna go. I need to find a way to make you better, okay? Just rest. It'll be over soon.”

McCoy said and he paced out of the room, leaving Spock alone.

He shuddered in fresh pain as his body started to fall into the grip of fever.

His eyes closed, welcoming darkness.

It was like the heat controls of the Enterprise had broken. He always had his room a comfortable level for a Vulcan, though he frequently turned them down if Nyota came to spend time with him there.

He was thinking how he needed to go and visit Mr Scott about the issue, see if he needed help fixing it, but something stopped him from doing anything, from moving.

And then he remembered that none of it was real.

The Enterprise was in pieces on Altamid and he was in some medical facility. He recalled Doctor McCoy and Jim being with him at some point but neither were currently present.

Jim had been fighting before that and he couldn't remember if he had faired well.

Maybe he was being treated here too. That would also explain McCoy's absence.

He decided that he would locate the pair to see how the Captain was doing, but as he pushed himself up onto his elbows a wave of heat came over him and he realised the heat from his sleep wasn't part of a dream but that something was wrong with him. He could feel his muscles tremble as he tried to remain upright but he realised seeking out the Captain wasn't going to happen and he let gravity assist him laying back down. He was all but panting with exertion, sweat beading across his brow.

That was when McCoy decided to enter and Spock felt relief at the sight of the man.

McCoy took one look at him before taking several large steps and being bedside him in seconds. He checked monitors and notes before he turned his attention back to Spock. “In case you can't guess, you're suffering from a fever.”

“Jim?” Spock asked, surprised by his hoarse voice.

“His fine. He'll be by to see you soon, if that's what you want.”

Spock nodded dumbly and closed his eyes. The lights were bright and he wanted to go back to sleep.

“Any pain?”

“No.”

“Well, at least we sorted one problem out.” McCoy muttered.

“There are others?”

“Besides the fact we can't operate due to lack of blood and we can't treat the infection because I don't know what to give you that's not going to make you worse, you're pretty much good to go.”

“It is possible... to mix the correct dosage of human and... Vulcan blood.” Spock muttered looking to the doctor, to see if he understood.

“Yeah, I know it's possible Spock, but they don't have a lot of blood to begin with. Most Vulcans are on New Vulcan so there's not a high demand for it all over the galaxy.”

“You think I should be on Vulcan. With my own kind.” Spock said. It wasn't a question. He closed his eyes again.

“What? How did you get that from what I said?”

“It is true though. You think I belong with my own kind.”

McCoy exhaled loudly. “Shut up, Spock. Now this,” he held up a shot before injecting it into Spock's neck. “Should help bring this damn fever down.”

“Jim is wrong.” Spock mutters quietly.

“About what?”

“He does not need me. The longer I remain by his side, the more I will hold him back. He does not have the confidence in himself he should have as I have stifled him.”

“He has confidence in himself. All that stuff he says about how he needs you and he doesn't know what he'd do without you, he doesn't mean as a Captain, he means as a person. Your his friend and you give him something that no one else on the crew can because only you are you. I don't know why I'm bothering to have this conversation with you when you're like this. Go to sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up.”

“You told me that last time, Doctor.”

“Hush.”

“Sir, we got this, you need to go.” Miller had said to him.

They'd theorized some formula's that could help Spock's infection and they were going to prepare them. Miller had told him he looked dead on his feet, that he should get some sleep and he had intended to do just that, but he stopped by to check on Spock first and had never left.

The last shot had done nothing for Spock's fever, it was still steadily rising. He checked the wound and was certain it looked worse than the last time, swollen and weeping still. He changed the dressing on it, cleaned it the best he could.

The increase in temperature seemed to be accompanied by an increase in pain. Spock's was still unconscious but restless.

Spock woke suddenly, as if startled. He sat up a little before laying his head back down and closing his eyes.

“What do you need?” McCoy asked.

Spock said nothing but started to roll over on to his bad side. He grunted in pain, as McCoy helped him sit up enough and held him while he was sick.

“And this is why I can't go to sleep,” McCoy grumbled to himself as he held the small container for Spock to use. Once he was finished he helped him lay back down, grabbing a tissue and handing it over so Spock would wipe his mouth.

“Jim?”

“He's not here.” McCoy said.

“He did not know.”

“Didn't know what?”

“That he was my friend.”

“Of course he knows that.”

“I did not tell him.” Spock said, seemingly growing distressed. “What were the services like?”

“What?”

“The whole bridge crew. Gone.”

“No, they're not gone, they're fine they're just not here right now.”

“You should not lie to me, Doctor. I know.”

“I'm not lying to you. They're fine.”

There was a knock at the door and Chekov poked his head round the corner. “Doctor, I stopped by to see how the Commander was doing. Ensign Miller asked me to pass this along to you, Sir.”

“See, here's Chekov.”

Spock looked at the younger man sceptically. “I do not know how you are able to project these images-” Spock started.

“Give me that hypo,” McCoy gestured and Chekov passed it across. “We really need this to work.”

“I'm sure it will, Doctor.” Chekov said.

McCoy administered the shot and watched the Spock's stats as the pain reading decreased and his temperature seemed to stabilise. “Have you seen Jim?”

“He was talking with Lieutenant Uhura,” Chekov said. “She was most upset so I decided to come and see the Commander for myself. He is no better?”

“We get this fever sorted and I'll be happy. That's what's going to kill him right now. Not that it's going to kill him, it's in hand, you know.”

“I understand,” Chekov said. “You are tired, Doctor. I can stay here and watch him. Let you know if he needs you.”

“I can't just leave him.”

“He's asleep.” Chekov said, indicating to Spock.

“I don't know if I should go.”

“I will call you, Doctor. Anything change and I'll call you straight away. I promise.”

“Okay fine.” McCoy said. He set some alarms to sound if any of Spock's levels went too high or too low. “Anything starts beeping, you call me straight away, okay?”

“Aye, Sir.”

“And if Jim or Uhura stop by don't let them disturb him, okay?”

“Promise. Russian promise a good promise, Sir.”

McCoy smiled. “Okay, I'm going.”

It had seemed like the right thing to do.

When Commander Spock has grown restless and somewhat distressed, Chekov thought back to how his Mother had comforted him as a child.

He'd spoke to him softly, tried to comfort him with hushed comforting words and when that had failed he had tried touch, somehow managing to forget everything he knew about Vulcan's being touch telepaths.

He couldn't tell you what happened next. He knew, when he was out of it and sat on the floor breathing heavily from the experience, that he had been in a mind meld with Spock. And he couldn't describe it.

Nothing was solid or real, it was feelings and experiences that he felt, he didn't see. What he did see didn't make much sense but then, he knew Spock was sick right now and it made sense that his thoughts weren't very clear.

He got himself back off the floor and looked at Spock who was sat up, looking at him, tears running down his face.

“Why were you think of my Mother?” he asked, his tone harsher than Chekov had ever had directed at him.

“I er... I did not think I was, Sir. I was thinking of my Mother.”

“That was not who I saw,” Spock accused.

“I- I suppose the truth is Mister Spock, that I think of her often. I should have been able to save her.” He couldn't look at the Vulcan as he spoke. “I carry it with me every day.”

Spock's expression lessened and he lay back down. “It was never your fault. I am to blame. In every sense. My other self was the reason Nero attacked-”

“That is not you-”

“More so, I went there to save my parents. I held my Mother's hand the whole time but let go to call the ship.” He let the words fade into the silence of the room. “I did not need to let her go.”

“It was not your fault. You should rest. You are still not well, Commander. I can get the Doctor for you. Would you like that?”

“Would you find Jim? I need to see that he is okay.”

“Yes Sir. I will do that. You will wait here and rest. I will be back very soon.”

He waited for Spock to settle back down before he left to find the Captain. Spock waited mere seconds after Chekov had left before he got out of bed and headed out the room.

It was late by the time Jim got finished.

He ended up checking on several members of the crew who had been injured during the whole fiasco. The list of the deceased crew members was being compiled ready for his grisly task of contacting next of kin.

He only wanted to go through the process once.

Talking to Uhura had been painful. She was upset. She knew Spock had been injured but he'd done a good job of keeping the truth of the injury from her. So now she felt awful that she hadn't done more for him. And then she'd told him all about their relationship. That she wasn't sure what Spock wanted any more, but she was starting to think it wasn't her.

And Jim didn't really know what to say. He wanted to tell her that it was okay and that Spock loved her and they'd work this out, but he didn't know any more. When he thought about the last few months, he couldn't really remember much time he and Spock spent doing anything together. They used to play chess on some evenings. They often ate together.

But Spock had been busy in the labs. He'd been speaking to his Father on new Vulcan and eventually, they'd stopped doing anything together except their shifts. Jim knew he could have tried harder himself but he started to wonder about his own future and things snowballed.

So he couldn't tell Uhura they'd be fine because he didn't know himself any more. He hoped they would. She'd been through a lot with Spock and he'd hate to see they ruined now, after so long making it work.

She'd been too upset to see Spock and Jim told her Spock was resting right now. Told her to get some rest and come and see him in the morning when she felt a little better herself.

She nodded in agreement and headed off.

Even though it was now late into the night, Jim headed back to Bones so he could check up on Spock before getting some sleep himself.

Everywhere was quiet as it was the night time period on the station and Jim didn't see anyone as he made his way back towards the medical unit.

He hoped Bones had made progress. While he wouldn't admit it, Jim knew how worried he was about Spock. He'd been somewhat relieved that after Spock had been beamed aboard the Franklin and he'd doubled over in pain that Bones was the one who appeared seconds later. He knew that he'd been taking care of Spock the best he could and when he cracked out a joke about him and Spock being spliced together, it gave him a little hope that maybe Spock wasn't as badly injured as he thought.

The fact that he collapses seconds later had ruined that idea though.

He turned a corner and almost walked straight into Spock.

“Spock, what are you doing out here?” He asked though it was apparent that he was in no condition to be making any decisions himself. He had no top on, just the hospital's pants and Jim could see the dressing over the wound was in need of changing. Spock had nothing on his feet and despite the generally cool temperature in the facility, Jim could see a light sheen of sweat all over Spock.

“C'mon, I'll take you back to your room before Bones notices your gone.”

Spock didn't say anything and let Jim lead him back to his room and assist him into bed. He pulled the covers up over him, wanting Spock to be warm despite the heat radiating from him.

Pulling out his communicator, Jim called McCoy.

“What's up Jim?”

“Hey, I just came to visit Spock. When you get a chance, can you get someone to change his dressing. It's looking pretty funky.”

“I'm heading over there now.” he said and ended the call.

“You're not dead,” Spock said quietly.

“You saved me, remember?” Kirk said, smiling.

Spock grimaced in pain and Jim hoped McCoy got there soon. Spock had suffered nothing more than a few minor injuries on their missions before, a least to Jim's knowledge.

He was aware that Spock could be awfully cagey when it came to medical information, something that he thought Bones knew more about than he did but he stayed tight lipped about it as well.

“Why don't you try and get some rest until Bones gets here.”

“Will you stay?” Spock asked.

“Of course.”

Jim sat beside the bed expecting Spock to at least attempt sleep but it was clear enough that he wouldn't be able to sleep. He was in too much pain, too uncomfortable. “Spock, what can I do to help you?” he asked.

“Jim?” It was Bones, entering into the room behind him. He felt the need to get up, though he didn't know why. “He's really in pain, Bones.”

“I know he is. The last hypo I gave him initially helped him manage the pain and his temp dropped but it didn't last long enough. We're still working on it.”

“I know this isn't your fault, Bones, but we got to sort something out. This can't happen. We can't even give him pain relief.”

“It is my fault, Jim. I could have worked on something with him. He was going to get badly hurt sooner or later. I knew we didn't have anything to effectively treat him. And now this is my fault.”

“Bones-”

“Not now, Jim. Not in front of Spock, okay?” Jim relented and dropped the subject as Bones pulled the cover down from Spock and exposed the wound.

He gently peeled off the dressing. Jim's description wasn't exactly medically accurate but he couldn't argue with it either. It didn't smell good, which was a bad sign and it looked messy.

There were a few things Bones had concluded in the time he'd spent working on how to treat the wound.

They'd been on an alien craft when Spock had been injured. So there was no telling what types of foreign bodies had got into the wound.

Heat sealing it, while an effective way to stop Spock bleeding to death, hadn't solved the issue and came with more chance of Spock getting infected.

Saving Jim had reopened the delicate and badly damaged skin. Again exposing Spock to any foreign bodies around. They were, once again, on an alien vessel at the time and Spock's immune system right then was compromised. He might have been acting like he was a lot better but it was simply because he could.

One thing McCoy had learnt about Spock was that he was a terrible patient. He didn't tell McCoy anything and would stand until he couldn't any longer rather than sit down before he fell.

So he was left with a green, bleeding wound to treat. It was still weeping badly, the infection raging on in Spock's body and a clear fluid was also present. He had no idea what that was.

Jim watched as Bones carefully cleaned up the wound. Jim became his assistant, passing over anything Bones would need.

He was amazed by the gentle steps McCoy went through to make sure he didn't cause any discomfort to Spock and he was a little surprised to see Spock had finally managed to get the rest he needed. He put a new dressing on Spock's wound and covered him back over again.

“At least he's sleeping,” Jim said.

McCoy looked over Spock's stats quickly. “Yeah that's-” he stopped frowning a little.

“What's wrong?”

“I can't believe it. I think he's actually gone into a healing trance.”

“That's good, right?”

“It's great. He'll heal much better and quicker this way. He just didn't go into it before, I- Oh, I get it now. It was you.”

“What was me?”

“He was freaking out earlier, thinking the bridge crew died. He kept thinking you were dead. He couldn't go into it until he knew you were okay.”

“You really think so.”

“Jim, you've been here minutes and he's gone into a healing trance. If that's not proof, I don't know what is.”

Jim smiled tiredly at Bones. “I'm exhausted.”

“Me too. I'll get one of the nurses here to watch him and then I'm going to bed for at least four or five hours.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“So, how did he get injured in the first place?” Sulu asked. “Was it on the ship?”

“No, I think it was when they landed.” Kirk replied taking a bite on his sandwich.

“And he's okay now?”

“He's in a healing trance,” Kirk supplied and shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know much about it, but Bones are really happy about it.”

“He was not looking so good when we beamed him aboard.”

“Yeah, I don't think he was doing so good.” Kirk agreed. “But, I checked in with him this morning and his temperatures going down and the infection seems to be clearing up now so the trance thing seems to be doing it's job.”

“Well that's a relief. Is Uhura with him?”

Kirk didn't want to say anything that would reveal too much about Spock and Uhura's personal situation right now. “She just needed some time. She was upset, so I'm sure she'll go and see him when she's ready.”

“Well, at least we can't get called out to help anyone else without a ship.”

“There's the positive side, Mr Sulu.” Jim said, laughing. They all needed a little break after what they'd been through.

“I'm going to go and meet Ben. Will you keep me updated on Mr Spock, Sir?”

“Of course I will.” Kirk said as Sulu headed off to spend the day with his family. Turning to Chekov, Kirk asked, “So what have you got planned for the day?”

“No plans yet, Sir. Yourself?”

“Lots of reports. The worse thing is, I have to pick up the slack for Spock too.”

Chekov smiled “I am sure he would be most unhappy if you did that, Sir.”

“Y0u're probably right. But, I do have to report the injury he sustained to Starfleet so I guess that's one he can't do. I'll see you later.”

Jim was hoping Spock might be up and about by now. What he didn't expect was for McCoy to be stood over the Vulcan, hitting him.

“Bones, what the hell are you doing?” Jim said, rushing over next to him.

“Trust me, Jim, I've not gone mad.” he said as he hit Spock again, his palm striking the side of the Vulcan's face. When he went to strike him again, Spock's hand shot up and stopped him before he touched him.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Spock said.

“Anyone want to explain why I just walked in on my CMO beating up my First Officer?”

“The Doctor was merely assisting me in coming out of the healing trance.”

“You have to slap him out of it?”

“It doesn't have to be a slap, but it's a bit more gentle than a punch.” McCoy said, shrugging.

“You Vulcan's are really weird.”

“I shall remind you of that after the next bar fight you are involved in, Jim.” Spock replied.

Jim couldn't help smirking. “So you feel better then?”

“I am functioning adequately, Captain.”

“The last time you told me that Spock you were collapsing seconds later.”

“I may have misjudged my injury previously.”

“I would say so.”

“Doctor, I would like to tha-”

“No. I don't want to hear it. I've had to put up with you for days, now. And you know, the only thing worse than a sick Vulcan, is a healthy one. So I'm leaving you Jim in charge of him, to make sure he doesn't do anything else stupid while I get some lunch. Do you think you can manage that?” McCoy looked to Spock who just looked away. McCoy might have offended him, it was hard to tell. Jim just shrugged and said “Sure, you go. You always get cranky when you need your coffee.”

And with that, he left, muttering all the way that he wasn't cranky.

The two of them were alone and Jim felt relief that he was able to look across at his friend and see him looking well. He might not be fully recovered but he was a lot better. “Do me a favour and don't get impaled again.”

“I shall try, Captain.”

Jim sat in the seat beside Spock and reached for his arm. “I know I said it already.... I couldn't do this without you, Spock.”

“Although I find your faith in me most.... interesting, Captain-”

“Jim.”

“Jim, I must disagree. You are more than capable of running a ship with or without me onboard.”

“Okay, maybe technically. But I don't mean I couldn't give orders. I mean that I wouldn't want too. If I left, you could run the ship no problem, but without you.”

“Captain, why do you think that I would wish to run the ship if you were not there?”

“You wouldn't want the ship?”

“Command was never what I was aiming for.”

“You don't want the responsibility.”

“I do not. But like you, I would not find the experience satisfactory if you were not there.”

“Okay, so, neither of us should leave then, I guess. Not that, I was planning too.”

“Nor I, Captain.”

“Am I interrupting?” Nyota asked as she appeared at the door.

“Oh hey, not at all. I was actually just leaving and erm, well someone needs to stay with him.”

“I guess I inherited the job, then.” She said and smiled to Kirk as she moved passed him and into the chair he vacated.

“Spock, I'll come and check on you later, okay?”

Spock nods as Kirk heads out the door.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hello, Nyota.”

She smiles at him. “I'm sorry you got hurt. But thanks for coming to rescue me anyway.”

“I should thank you for rescuing me.”

“You could have got hurt a lot worse doing that. You know I can take care of myself and... considering what happened... it wasn't your place to risk yourself for me.”

“I regret that in the time we were on the ship we were unable to talk things through more thoroughly. I take full responsibility for this as I was not open to such discussions at the time.”

“It's okay, you don't have to say it-”

“I believe you do not fully understand, Nyota. It was never my intention to leave you. I wished to leave my position within Starfleet. However, I felt if I was in a relationship with you when I took such a step, it would be expected for you to leave too. I felt this was unfair to you and you should be able to make your choice independently of what my wishes were. And it will always be my place to risk myself for you. I could think of nothing that I would not risk to know that you are safe.”

Spock closed his eyes in a long blink and took a deep breath.

“Your tired still. Get some sleep and I'll be right here when you wake up, okay.”

“Thank you, Nyota.”

#spock #star trek #kirk #mccoy #fanfic

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