A/N: Thanks so very much to Bride of Spock and harathor for reviewing my last chapter! This chapter is dedicated to the guest who reviewed chapter one. It is clear you really, truly understand Spock and I'm so very pleased you thought I wrote him well as I respect Spock very much and really wanted to get his character right. So thank you very much for that wonderful, accurate and beautifully worded review. :)

Kirk stumbled into his quarters blindly as tears streaked down his face, leaning heavily against the door after it slid shut behind him. As he had been making his way toward his quarters, Spock's unfeeling words echoed in his mind.

I am not capable of love nor do I wish I was.

Those were his exact words. They kept replaying over and over in his mind, prohibiting him from forgetting every insignificant detail. Spock's blank features, hands clasped behind his straight back. The blatant confusion twisting over his features as he understood Kirk's feelings.

Were you under the impression I possessed feelings for you?

Kirk gasped through the sticky, snotty tears marring his face. It felt as though someone had set their phaser on stun and shot him right in the stomach, though the pain wasn't unbearable at first it deepened and intensified over time, until it felt like he was being devoured by it from the inside out, the pain chewing and clawing its way through his insides.

"Why?" He whispered feebly. Why had this happened? He thumped his head against the door. How could he have fallen so damn hard for Vulcan? What-

Look at yourself! His inner voice sounded disappointed. The great Captain James Kirk, the one and the only, wholly and absolutely brought to his knees by his own First Officer, in more ways than one. It was pathetic. Not only was he shut off in his quarters sobbing like a broken-hearted teenage girl, he was also screaming accusations at himself for it. Pathetic and weak, that's what it was.

Not to mention the crew – his crew – was stuck on a planet down below, lost deep in a self-satisfied trance. What had come over him? He couldn't believe his was actually in here crying his eyes out when his crew stuck down there.

The thought just made him bawl harder.

Though his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, and his vision was blurred with tears, not a sound could be heard from the anguished captain. His cries were as silent the rest of his empty ship. It had been a habit of his since his academy years. Long after his dorm mate had fallen asleep, Kirk's pillow would be drenched with the silent tears he had shed for a friend who had lost his life in an accident. They had been much closer than anyone else had realised, Kirk included. He hadn't known he'd loved him until his passing.

Since those terrible grief-stricken nights, Kirk was quite unable to make a peep while crying. He mourned alone, and he did so in silence.

Weeks after the incident on Omicron Ceti III, the door chimed, informing him that someone wanted in. Kirk was startled out of his reverie, pathetic fantasies of him and Spock dissipating.

"Come in," Kirk halted his frantic pacing, carefully scraping together a mask of calm, a façade of self control. The door to his quarters slid open.
"Ah, McCoy. How's the ensign? You told me he'd be ready to be discharged soon yes? He's a clumsy one, isn't he?" The lightness in the Captain's voice was forced, painfully so. He just hoped that McCoy wouldn't pick up on it.

"This isn't about Holman. It's a bit more personal-"

"Bones I told you I feel as healthy as a horse. There's no need to waste for you to waste your time or our resources on routine checkups." Kirk spoke jokingly, however the good doctor's face was grim. He slowly moved towards his bed, motioning for his to sit by him. His actions were stiff, shoulders stooped slightly as if burdened with an undesirable weight. Kirk frowned, curious despite himself.

As Kirk sat himself down aside the doctor, he began. "Jim, I've known you for a while now, and I'd like to think of you as a close friend of mine. As a doctor I've been trained in psychology, I do know to read people and more importantly, realise when something isn't right. As your friend I know you even better than the average physician would know their patient." McCoy swivelled to face him. A sense of foreboding welled within Kirk.

"I've been watching you, Jim. On the bridge you seem… distant. You're hardly neglecting your duties, far from it, but you're not as involved as you used to be. You go through the motions, but you're not really there. You've stopped suggesting ideas at briefings and you're slow to respond. You're eyes seem almost glazed over sometimes. What's happening, Jim? Where've you been?" Kirk swallowed, staring at his hands in his lap. Bones really had him this time. He'd completely backed him into a corner, and he wasn't stepping aside without some answers first.

"Geez… I don't really know where to start. I'm sorry, I hadn't realised I was being such a lousy-"

"Stop, stop. I'm not looking for apologises, I just want to know if you're alright, as your friend. Well, and as your doctor, because if our captain's buggered it'll be damn likely that we are too! We need our captain back on his feet." McCoy's voice was soft, gentle. He'd only ever heard him use that tone on his most pitiful patients.

Never had Kirk counted on being one of them.

He decided he didn't really have much of a choice; Bones was going to find out one way or another. His stubbornness was often his favourite quality about the man, but today it was his least. "I don't really know where to start…" Kirk trailed off. What was he supposed to say, really? After a long minute of painful silence and twiddling thumbs, McCoy pressed on.
"It's Spock isn't it?" Again with the gentle tone, though it did nothing to soothe Kirk. His head snapped up to glare right at his chief medical officer. Anger bubbled inside him. His own reaction surprised him, but the other man had seemed to anticipate it.

"How long have you known?" The vehement anger surging within him didn't match his tone. This voice was soft, but unlike McCoy's. He sounded crushed, feeble, like he was admitting to defeat.

"Jim… you can't keep your eyes off of him." McCoy said softly, eyes emanating pity. Kirk knew he meant well, but he couldn't stand that he was being treated like a weakling.
"Anytime he enters the room you tense right up. It's the only time you really appear to care about what's going on around you. When you talk to him your voice is harsh, angry, but your eyes are sad." Kirk swallowed. But damn Bones knew how to read people. He'd bet no one else had yet noticed. His next statement made him wonder if he wasn't a little psychic too.
"Nobody else knows. They just think you've gone a little too long without shore leave." The doctor gave him a moment to let that sit before pressing on. "Look I know you're having a rough time right now, and I just wanted to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, you've got me. You're not alone anymore Kirk." McCoy paused awkwardly, because damn that had been sappy. Kirk almost smiled through his misery at his friend's expression.

Before today if you'd told him that a member of his crew would find out about his feelings for Spock, he would have been horrified. But he was almost glad now that McCoy knew. He felt lighter, yes he was still keeping a secret from the rest of his crew but it was nice to have someone in the know. And who better than Bones to be that someone? Things weren't looking as bleak as they were half an hour ago.