im Kirk was going to die.
If the lack of air didn't kill him, the Vulcan fists tightening around his neck would.
At least, that was the professional opinion of the Enterprise's medical officer as he strained against his shackles.
"Spock! You've got to fight them!"
Eyes white, the Vulcan's fists only constricted.
Jim's face had long since abandoned a red hue for a paling violet. Defying medical possibility, the young captain was still conscious – a tribute to his characteristically stubborn spirit.
"Spock, please," he choked, "Spock, don't let them do this to you!"
There was not even a flicker of recognition in the cold, black eyes.
Twisting against the bonds, the doctor glared up at their alien captors seated above them. Surrounded by an ethereal glow, their bulbous faces were expressionless.
"Stop it! You'll kill them both!" He barked, "You've got to make him stop!"
Their captors didn't even give him the humanity of a sinister chuckle.
"The experiment must continue," one pair of eyes informed, its movements (if any) impossible to detect in the dim lighting.
Jim gagged.
McCoy's bonds strained.
"Please! I'm the ship's doctor – I'll tell you everything about Vulcan mind capacity. Anything you want to know! Don't do this!"
The greenish glow above them intensified.
"Experimentation is necessary. The limits of Vulcan psychology must be probed."
Another enraged lunge at his bonds did nothing but cut into the doctor's flesh, wringing a silent yelp from his throat.
Limits.
Funny that they should use that word; McCoy had always secretly thought that Spock had no limits, that there was no end to his marvelous strength and powerful mind.
As a doctor, he should have known better.
"B-bones…"
The medical officer's head snapped immediately as he heard his friend's hoarse voice.
The captain's eyes were glassy; McCoy doubted that he could even see.
"Bones, Spock – he won't kill me. I know he won't..."
His friend's utterance of total faith only enraged the doctor further and he strained against the chains again.
"Jim, he's like an animal now!" he shouted, partly for their captors benefit, "he'll kill you – he'll kill anyone! They're totally controlling him!"
The watery brown eyes disagreed, but the facts of the situation supplied every evidence for the doctor's opinion.
Spock was going to kill his own captain.
The green flickered again.
Spock leaned closer, pressing Jim into the wall. The captain made a miserable effort to resist, but only succeeded in injuring himself further.
McCoy's own voice was hoarse now – whether from yelling or from watching his friend being choked to death he couldn't tell.
"Spock! Please! That's Jim!"
A crack and the doctor's expert eyes immediately identified the broken bone; left shoulder blade.
When the captain lost the right there would be nothing to protect his spine.
The pain was obvious, but the young commander couldn't have screamed if he'd wanted to.
What if Spock really did kill Jim?
A cold wave washed up the doctor's body, and he realized with shock that he'd really believed – as Jim did – that Spock wouldn't do it.
Now he knew otherwise.
"Spock! Please!"
The purple face faded to gray - breathing became shallow.
Bones could almost feel the interest peaking above him. He felt like vomiting.
"I know those ears are good for something. Listen to me," the doctor demanded, his voice only above a hiss, "If they were completely controlling you, you'd have killed him by now-"
A rush of static through his body cut his intercession to an abrupt stop.
Glaring up into the glow, McCoy continued.
"…I know you're there, Spock. Listen to me. They believe you will kill him – to be honest, so do I. And so do you-"
Another shock, but the flash in the black eyes held the doctor's attention, dulling the pain.
"…Jim doesn't believe that. He trusts you with everything he has. I know you don't think that you can beat this…"
Pain made his eyes blur.
"…Jim has always believed in you even when you didn't. Don't let him down now."
Fiery red flashed across his vision.
"…can't you feel his confidence? If you have none of your own – take his. Spock-"
The red was giving way to black.
No, no, no, not yet…not now…
"…Spock…"
Through the fog, a hand – with tortured movement – splayed across the captain's face.
Then all was black.
"Leonard. Leonard. Dr. McCoy…"
The glare immediately told him he was on board the Enterprise.
A fuzzy form above him slowly sharpened, showing black against the glare.
"Spock?"
The figure bent. McCoy could feel the bed beneath him bow with the weight.
A silence.
"Yes, it is me, Leonard."
"Jim-?"
"He is…alive."
A deep sigh escaped the doctor and he blinked up into the Vulcan's eyes – so warm in contrast to the previous darkness.
"Leonard, I must submit my ressigna-"
"Shut up, Spock," the doctor snorted, swiping a thin arm at his friend, "I don't want to hear anything else about it – and neither does Jim."
"…I am…deeply ashamed."
The medical officer considered. Monitors beeped softly behind him.
"Well, Spock, you shouldn't be. I don't think anyone else could have regained mental control like you did."
Spock's forlorn expression twisted into confusion.
"Mental control? Doctor, I did not regain mental control."
Bones frowned. "But I saw you – the mind meld…and Jim's alive…"
The Vulcan shook his head slowly, the movement ending with his eyes focused on a corner bio-bed.
"The alien species was searching for my limits – they simply found them."
McCoy stared for a moment, then nodded.
"I guess even Vulcans have things they can't do."
Finally the shadow of a smile crossed the first officer's face, his gaze still fixed on the bed in the far corner.
"Yes, doctor."
Spock stood, his thin frame unfolding like an accordion. He started towards the door, but hesitated.
"Thank you, Leonard."
McCoy huffed and fiddled with the IV poking into his wrist.
"I didn't do anything but scream at you…"
The would-be argument was suddenly interrupted by a rasp from the corner and sparkling eyes that McCoy could see even from across the room.
"See, Bones? I told you so…"