Disclaimer: Not mine.
...And I am also quite blind,
Those six words had shocked him. At first he felt numb. Then the results from the first test had been delivered. He felt lead pooling in the bottom of his stomach. It had been hard to stand there in the same room as Spock; those dark, intelligent eyes fixed on the black that now made up his world.
Beep. Jim Kirk jolted back into the present. Beep. He moved to his desk to answer the intercom. "Kirk here."
"Jim… I can't do anything more for Spock. I'm taking him to his quarters. Would you… would you mind sitting with him for a while?"
The captain could hear the regret in McCoy's voice. He knew that McCoy probably needed a break from the guilt accompanying the sight of Spock. Sight… they took it for granted much too often. Jim sighed. "I…" he began. He trailed off. How could he possibly look at Spock knowing that Spock couldn't return the gesture.
"Jim… he needs you, you know. Your support…" Your comfort went unsaid. "I can't do that for you." There was an awkward pause. "Alright, I'll take him back to Sickbay. Keep an eye on him… My own damn fault anyway."
"No, Bones, it wasn't," Jim insisted. "I'll be in his quarters in a minute."
He pulled his shirt back on and slipped through the Head he shared with Spock to Spock's adjoined quarters. The hall door whooshed open and McCoy stepped through. Spock was with him, his arms held firmly by McCoy so that he was slightly in front of the doctor. McCoy propelled Spock to the desk and gently guided him into the chair. He said nothing, but turned and left the room.
Jim's eyes rested on Spock. The Vulcan's brown eyes moved aimlessly over the room, unseeing. Jim couldn't help but marvel at how wise Spock's eyes appeared, even now.
"...Jim…?" Spock asked quietly, his voice slightly unsteady. That unsure question made the captain's nausea return.
"I'm here," Jim assure him quietly. He put one hand over Spock's white, trembling one. Spock jerked slightly in startlement. The captain cringed at his own misstep. His inadequacy to this new Spock. Slowly he trailed his hand up Spock's arm and gently eased the Vulcan to his feet. He led Spock to the bed on the far side of the room and lowered him onto the mattress. "Sleep, Spock," Jim commanded gently. "You'll feel better."
"I… I wish…"
"What do you need, Spock?"
"I need… to meditate."
Jim nodded, then paused and winced again. "Alright, Spock. I'll get your mat."
Kirk moved to the corner of the room, where Spock had his meditation mats positioned. Jim had never seen Spock in such a state as this - defeated, frightened, alone in his own world of darkness. As he turned back toward Spock, he noticed that the Vulcan had his head cocked to one side, listening with those delicate, pointed ears. As Jim moved from one side of the room to the other, Spock moved his head to keep his right ear turned toward his captain. As Jim neared the bed, Spock carefully stood and moved - slowly and unsteadily - toward him.
With his captain's help, Spock moved slowly to the mat on the floor. He folded gracefully down onto it, and adopted a position of meditation. He reached for the incense on the shelf next to the mat.
Jim moved quickly to intercept his first officer's searching hand. He slid his hand into Spock's and moved it firmly away from the incense, turning then to light it himself.
Spock was asleep in his bed. He looked peaceful at last. Jim's own tension had receded slightly when Spock had dropped off. Now he sat silently at Spock's desk going through some documents.
He was startled by an odd noise from the bed. Glancing over, he saw that Spock was tossing and turning agitatedly in his bed. There was that noise again; it sounded like a strangled cry made in the back of the throat. Jim was at Spock's side in an instance.
Suddenly, a horrific cry ripped past the usually-stoic Vulcan's lips. But the cry didn't die down, instead it stayed constant.
Jim panicked. He slapped Spock hard on the face, receiving a shaky breath before the screaming began again.
Jim darted to the console on Spock's desk and pressed the emergency call to Sickbay.
Returning to Spock's side, he slapped him again. He was rewarded with a shaky breath, and Spock began crying out incoherently at the top of his lungs.
McCoy forced his way through the half opened doors and darted to the bed. He wielded his hypospray and quickly injected it into Spock's arm.
The effect was instantaneous. Spock stilled, and his voice quieted to a incoherent moaning of words.
"Try talking to him, Jim," McCoy ordered briskly as he pulled out a tricorder and ran it over Spock.
Jim murmured under his breath to his first officer, too low for McCoy to make out any words.
"There we go. Good… he's calming down," McCoy muttered.
Spock's voice quieted and then ceased. He slowly opened his eyes. For a moment, Jim expected Spock to look at him. He expected to see recognition spark in those depths. But Spock closed his eyes again. Closed his eyes against the dark nothingness. Jim sighed.
Beep. "Doctor McCoy to Sickbay immediately." McCoy pushed a few hypos into Jim's hand.
"They're labeled," he explained as he rose to his feet. "Give him the muscle relaxant now and sedate him if he's having trouble sleeping." Without further adieu, he was gone.
Jim stared after the doctor for a moment before turning his attention back to Spock. "I'm going to give you this muscle relaxant, Spock," he informed him. "Do you want the sedative too?"
"No," Spock whispered, his voice raw and shaking.
Jim released the relaxant into Spock's bloodstream, and then watched as Spock's whole body seemed to slacken and sink into the bed. The captain sat down next to his friend, and stroked Spock's hair in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He was unsure if Spock appreciated it, but he continued anyway. Spock's breathing evened, and his face went blank. He once again looked like the untroubled first officer who Jim knew so well.
Spock woke and felt someone lying across the foot of his bed. He started up, immediately wide awake, and woke whomever was lying on the bed with him.
"Oh. Spock," Jim said, embarrassed. "I must have fallen asleep. My apologies."
"Quite unnecessary, Captain. It is understandable."
Jim could have cried when Spock said those words - he sounded so Spock-ish. Like yesterday had never happened. Like he was ready to return to the bridge and work his shift. Speaking of which, Jim's shift began soon. He said as much to Spock.
"I… may need some assistance in dressing, Captain," Spock admitted self-consciously.
"Of course, Mr. Spock."
Jim helped Spock dress and then he led Spock to the Sickbay. He felt guilty doing it, but he left Spock with Dr. McCoy.
The day had been uneventful thus far.
Captain Kirk was giving a report to a Lieutenant when she glanced up and gasped in surprise. "Captain, look, Mr. Spock," she said.
The Captain looked. Spock strode across the platform toward his console. Dr. McCoy accompanied him. Jim walked quickly to where Spock stood. "Spock. You can see," he marvelled. Spock looked at Dr. McCoy and Jim turned to him.
"There's something about his optic nerves that aren't the same as ours."
"A hereditary trait, Captain," Spock explained. "Because of the hot Vulcan sun, we have developed an inner eyelid. We tend to ignore it, much as you would ignore your own appendix."
As the Captain returned to his seat, he found that he didn't much care the explanation behind the phenomenon. As long as he had Spock back on his bridge, and by his side, he was quite satisfied.