Title: Constellation Lyra: Origination & Mitigation
Author: AtticusFinchFan
Summary: Lyra's named, but will she be around long enough to use it?
Warning: Can't think of anything. UnBetaed
A/N: So, what do ya know? I listened. I hope that the few readers enjoy this!
This is the middle:
Lyra went without a name for almost 2 weeks. Of course, everyone had their own names for the child, Kirk had taken to calling her "Blondie," Dr. McCoy and Sulu called her "Smiley", Scotty simply called her, "Lass," Chekov called her "Devushka," the Russian variant of girl. Both Uhura and Nurse Chapel decided to stick with tradition, and continued calling her "Sweetheart," Spock was the only one who had refrained from calling her nothing other than "the child," To everyone's immense relief Lyra had had any adverse reactions to the little epileptic episode she had had earlier. In fact, everyone was certain it had given her more energy. Lyra was no longer satisfied with just sitting on laps. She had found her adventurous streak, and, almost always, after wriggling free of the hold of whoever had her, would crawl as fast as she could to the other side of the bridge to investigate whatever had caught her attention over there.
Uhura and Kirk came to a joint decision a couple minutes after finally getting Lyra to stop crying after catching her tiny leg in the doors on her way out, that they had to find a way to contain her. As soon as he was off duty, Kirk informed Scotty of their idea, and when they came in the next morning, a tiny metallic playpen, complete with a built in mirror and mini abacus, sat on the floor directly adjacent to the Captain's chair. Thankfully, other than a minute tantrum in the beginning, Lyra seemed to enjoy her self just as well in the playpen as she did roaming the floor of the bridge.
Even though Lyra had become a permanent fixture during the Alpha shift on the bridge and even though he obligingly took her to his quarters every night. Spock never really showed her any more affection than he had that first night and according to everything he believed about humans, Lyra should have started getting rather annoyed with him a while ago. This didn't seem to be the case with Lyra. Lyra happily played with whoever wanted to pay her attention during the day on the bridge, giving out hugs as freely as she received them, but she also seemed quite content with Spock at night. She didn't seemed to mind his oblivious, distant attitude towards her. She still smiled at him just as she did all the rest. For the life of Spock, he just could not understand such a creature.
Lyra slept for almost ten straight hours about a week and half after her arrival, and knowing humans rejoiced when a child began sleeping through the night, Spock forgot about it. However, when he woke up at 4 AM the next morning, and walked over to Lyra's cot and realized her puckered lips had the same odd tinge to them as they had during her seizure, he wasted no time in taking her into his arms and sprinting towards the doors.
He didn't care who heard him as he ran through the hall yelling for Dr. McCoy. Even in the turbo lift on his way to the main level Spock continued yelling while eyeing the rapidly cooling child anxiously.
A bleary-eyed McCoy and Chapel met him as soon as the doors opened. The doctor took one look at the child in the nervous alien's arms and yanked her into his. "Dammit, Spock. What's you do now?"
"I assure you, Doctor, I have done nothing." Spock answered as he ran behind the trio. "I woke up 6.7 minutes ago and walked to her cot. I found her quite the same as she is now."
"She's not a damn cat, Spock! She doesn't have nine lives."
An eyebrow shot up. "That is quite obvious, doctor. It is also a myth. Felines do not have more than one life. It is impossible."
"Dammit, Spock," McCoy breathed as he laid the child on the closest bio-bed. Nurse Chapel headed straight for the instrument tray. "I know."
Spock stepped back to give the doctor room to work, but kept a watchful eye on the situation.
As soon as Nurse Chapel returned, she handed McCoy a hypospray filled with a amber coloured liquid, then another one filled with an emerald coloured liquid and then finally one a deep purple colour. Then stepped back and McCoy moved further up the bed to Lyra's eyes and gently forced them open. The whispered curse that quickly followed was not lost on Spock.
"May I inquire as to why you have cursed, Doctor?"
McCoy back away from the bed as if he'd been burned, took one look at Spock and then turned to Nurse Chapel and barked out his order. "Put her in quarantine! Now!"
Nurse Chapel nodded and quickly lifted the child into her arms and took off.
"Dr. McCoy, I'd appreciate it if you would answer my question."
McCoy, who had watched Nurse Chapel and Lyra until they disappear through another set of doors, turned to Spock and sighed. He advanced on the alien, placed his hand on his shoulder gently, and squeezed. "I've vaccinated her against everything I possibly can but it seems to already be too late."
Spock spied the hand on his shoulder for about a second and then raised his attention to the dark haired man he considered a close friend and inquired. "What do you mean?"
"She has Chickenpox, Spock."
"That is unlikely," he answered easily. "They were eradicated in the 22nd century, correct, doctor?"
"Yes, the Varicella Zoster virus was entirely done away with back then, but she's not from the 22nd century. Hell, I doubt she's from the 21st- she is still susceptible to everything a child from that time could have caught. Add that to everything floating about this ship and we've got a dreadfully sick little girl on our hands."
"I do not quite understand, doctor," Spock said. "Am I to believe that her surroundings are causing her harm?"
"They're doing a lot more than that, Spock. They're killing her."
Something flashed in the alien's eyes for a split second before he asked ordered McCoy in a curt manner to explain.
"The sudden and drastic changes to her environment, being on this ship, not eating her own food, not being vaccinated with the right medication, not being in her original timeline - all these things are killing her, Spock."
"How long does she have, doctor?"
The seemingly cold and unaffected tone of voice would have driven McCoy insane if it hadn't have come from Spock, but it had so he let it slide, and leans against the vacant Bio-bed and shakes his head. "Honestly I don't know. I should have seen it earlier. I should have realized something like this could have happened." He startled a bit when he felt Spock's hand on his shoulder.
"Self doubt will do no good in our present situation, doctor. Instead, may I request that you find some way to help her?"
"Yes," McCoy choked. "Yes, of course," and then allowed himself to be led to the back by Spock's guiding hand.
By the time they got to the entrance of the quarantine unit, Lyra was already stripped of her clothing and wrapped in a crisp white sheet that was double tucked just underneath her underarms. A feeding tube had been put in her nose and Nurse Chapel, dressed in a full quarantine suit and mask, was currently working on a set of IVs. When she turned and noticed them, she smiled and then turned back around and continued with her business.
"Wait!" McCoy exclaimed when he saw Spock reach for the sensor to open the door to the quarantine unit. "What are you doing?"
"She is my responsibility, doctor. I was merely going to watch over-"
"You can't go in there without a suit, Spock. Are you mad?"
"I do not see how-"
"Germs, man! Germs! You going in there would compromise her already weakened immune system."
Spock retreated almost immediately.
"Well, then, doctor, where would I attain a suit?"
McCoy pointed to a closet behind him. Spock nodded and headed towards it. Only to be called back a couple seconds later. "Never go anywhere near her without one!" The doctor tensed a bit as an agonized sigh passed through his lips. "At least not until I figure out what to do. Ok?"
Spock nodded ever so slightly and continued on his way.
Against the opinion of McCoy about going to work to get his mind off the situation with Lyra, Spock sat just beyond the quarantine area and just watched the hypnotic rise and fall of her tiny chest for the whole morning and most of the afternoon. He had spent a couple minutes in the area with her, but had exited soon after stating that the suit irritated his skin. McCoy had just been able to spy the telltale redness around his eyes before he quickly wiped them away, but refrained from speaking and just nodded and left him alone.
Now, thankfully, sleep had seemed to conquer his reserves. It also told anybody who had known Spock a long time just how much the little girl had gotten under his thick alien skin. In all the years McCoy had known Spock, not once had he seen Spock fall asleep. McCoy had always believed Spock thought it to be against the rules to fall asleep in public and yet here he was, with his head tilted back against the headrest of the chair, out cold. He'd probably wake up embarrassed, or whatever the equivalent to embarrassed was to a Vulcan. Therefore, McCoy would just have to pretend. He was good at pretending apparently.
**
Spock's eyes shot open when he realized he had started listing to the side and was immediately met with the sight of a pair of pale, perfectly sculpted legs that seemed to go on forever and ever. He blinked and a delighted giggle followed. "Too much, Mr. Spock?" a voice asked. Spock straightened in the chair and turned his attention towards the voice. Standing just beyond him was a tall, lanky woman with sharp blue eyes and a tight, high ponytail of white blonde hair, wearing a blue variant of the usual female Starfleet uniform.
She smirked slightly when their eyes met. "Hi."
"Hello," he returned as his eyes shot to the spot where Lyra's form should have been lying. He panicked somewhat when he saw nothing but a perfectly made bed in the quarantine area with no child on it or around it. "The child."
Her smirk grew into a smile. "She is quite alright, Mr. Spock. Do not worry."
"No," he said quickly, turning back to the empty bed. "You don't understand, I must watch her. It is my duty to watch her. She is my responsibility." Something made him choke on his next breath and he had to swallow hard once or twice before he could continue. "She is deathly ill."
"Mr. Spock-"
The woman's easy voice was lost on him as he went on. "I promised Dr. McCoy I would watch over her throughout the duration of the night."
"Mr. Spock-"
"I do not know what happened."
"Mr. Spock!"
Despite being taught the fear and the subsequent adrenaline, currently coursing through his system at the speed of light was to be utilized fully; all it seemed to do for Spock now was cloud his usually spotless judgement so severely it almost literally paralyzed him.
"Mr. Spock, listen to me, the child is perfectly fine. You're just dreaming. She's still where she was when you fell asleep. She is no where but with you."
It took a couple seconds, but Spock's eyes eventually found hers again, but not even a full minute later, he averted his gaze once more and tilted his head in a vain attempt to alleviate some of the growing pressure behind his eyes. "No. that is impossible. I do not dream. You are lying. You must be."
"I'm not, Mr. Spock. I promise-"
"Yes."
"I'm not, Mr. Spock, I-"
"Yes. You have to be. Dreaming is-dreaming is illogical." He stuttered.
If he had been watching her face he would have been able to see her roll her eyes. "Mr. Spock! Look at me!"
Spock jumped to attention immediately. Years of obedience beating out the burn of fear and rebellion.
She smiled. "Now just breath, ok? In and out."
Spock nodded.
"Good, now you must listen to me, I haven't much time. The child will be perfectly healthy in a few days. Dr. McCoy knows what he is doing."
Spock tortured brown eyes rose to met her soft blue ones as his brow furrowed. "But, how do you know this?"
Her face breaks into a grin, and the first pangs of familiarity start twisting around his stomach. "Who do I look like, Mr. Spock?"
"The child." He said without missing a beat. "You look like the child."
"That's because I am the child, Mr. Spock."
And there it was. For the first time in his life, Spock was certain he was going to faint.
Grownup Lyra continued a few seconds later, allowing Spock, what she believed ample time to recover. "So, as you can see, the child does just fine. No side affects to be seen."
"You stay on the Enterprise."
"I do." He could hear the smile in her voice as well as see it on her face. "The Enterprise is re-commissioned quite a few times, actually; it's converted to Galaxy class in a few years to the chagrin of many. I grow up within it and eventually take over for Dr. McCoy when he finally realizes he must retire."
Spock can't help but puff his chest out with pride just a bit at the news of his charge becoming a doctor. "Who do you eventually chose to live with?"
Her grin grew to epic proportions as she informed him that she was looking at him. "You were always the only one for me, father."
"Father?" he spluttered. "You call me Father?"
Lyra's nod is easy. "I have many, many aunts and uncles, but only one Father. You."
Their joint attention drew to an overhead clock that hadn't been there before, as it began to drone out the time. He turned back to her just in time to see her body tense, much in the same way it had not three weeks ago. "You must go now."
Spock allowed this for a few seconds before s thought entered his unusually muttered mind and he shot up. "Your name, what is your name?"
"I'm named after a constellation in the Milky Way Galaxy. It's starts with 'L'."
**
Spock's eyes shot open again, and yet again the first thing he spied was legs, but unlike last time they wore pants and were familiar. He raised his head just enough to meet the bemused eyes of Doctor McCoy. "Good Morning, Mr. Spock."
He slid forward in his chair and rubbed at his eyes. "I apologize for my behaviour, doctor-"
"What behaviour, Spock? You were tired so you slept. Can't fault a man for that. Even if he is an Alien."
"How is the child, doctor?"
McCoy smiled at the oblivious change of subject, but didn't call him out on it. "Oh Smiley's fine, just fine." He flipped her chart closed and smiled at the dishevelled alien. "Holding her own and that's all we could ask for in this stage of the game."
"I believe her name is Lyra, doctor."
McCoy's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "You believe, Mr. Spock? That doesn't sound at all like your usual self assured self."
The look Spock gave the doctor could have only been conveyed as contempt as he rose from his chair and tucked his hands behind his back. "Her name is Lyra."
"Right then, I can erase Smiley from her chart and input a real name. No doubt everyone will be pleased." Spock couldn't understand how McCoy was so happy just because he had chosen a name. It was merely a word, nothing that truly impeded a person from functioning...odd human belief apparently.
"You should go get in a couple hours of work on the bridge, Spock. Maybe get your mind off Smile-Lyra here for a while." McCoy's smile fell flat but that didn't deter him from his mission to get Spock away at least for a while. "C'mon, Spock. Doctor's orders!"
"I have checked in with the Captain several times in the past hours, each time he has said I may remain here if I wished."
"And you wish, I presume?"
Spock nodded, "indeed."
"Great," McCoy said, rolling his eyes skyward and crossing his arms over his chest.
Spock watched the display with a cocked eyebrow. "Doctor, I do not know why you see fit to remove me from my position. I am not in the way of nurses."
"Because Spock!" McCoy exclaimed. "You've done nothing but sit in that chair for almost three straight days, hell man! You haven't even eaten. It isn't healthy!"
"I did not think I would have to remind you, Doctor, that Vulcan's do not require sustenance as often as humans."
"Damn it, Spock; just go get a plate of chips or something! Give yourself a rest!"
"My rest has been sufficient, Doctor, there is no need to bother yourself with wanton thoughts."
"It's not needless!" McCoy countered. "No person, man or alien should stay so stationary for as long."
"If you are worried about circulation, doctor, I assure you that I will not be harmed from sitting for such a long duration of time," at the even blue eyed stare Spock continued, "but, if it will appease you I will walk a few rounds of Sickbay."
"Walking is fine, Spock, but not sickbay, try a few levels and then come back. I'll leave you alone-"
"Sickbay is all I am currently going to do, in the words of our Captain, doctor, "take it or leave it.""
"But, Spock, I don't-" McCoy then sighed and acquiesced. "Fine, but no less than 10 laps, spread between 2-5 minute breaks, ya hear?"
"I shall try my best, Doctor."
"No try, Spock. Do."
Spock nodded and effortlessly rose from his chair as if he hadn't been sitting in the same spot for almost three days. McCoy watched him rise and rolled his tired eyes skyward and then muttered under his breath, "some people have all the luck."
**
Four days later saw the same scene, Lyra was still heavily sedated, covered in angry red blotches and a mess of liquid McCoy had found the formula for in the Memory banks, something called calamine lotion, and Spock still sat just beyond the Quarantine area. However, McCoy could see the beginnings of stress induced wrinkles forming around the Vulcan's eyes. He could only guess how much stress Spock must have been under for it to become visible.
The Vulcan looked up when McCoy came around his shoulder. McCoy smiled in spite of the tenseness in the air, "well, Spock, Smiley is getting better, but still not sure when she'll-"
Suddenly every sensor hooked up to the Quarantine area started buzzing madly. Spock nearly ran the poor doctor over in his attempt to get to the door first. Luckily, just as he was about to force open the airlock McCoy's hand landed on his shoulder. "It's ok, Spock! Everything's fine! The buzzers are a warning that she's starting to wake up. "
"She may still be in distress." Spock rushed. "I must-"
McCoy slid his hand down the tense Vulcan's arm and squeezed. "What did I say about entering that room with nothing on, Spock? Totally disobeying my orders may set her back several days and several treatments!" He fixed his Alien friend with an even stare. "Do you really wanna risk that?"
Spock relaxed and McCoy moved his hand away. "No," McCoy said. "I didn't think so."
Spock squeezed the handle of the door on the Quarantined area once before letting his arm drop completely. "I apologize, Doctor." he bowed his head and then shook it. "I do not know what or why I am reacting in such an illogical manner."
"No worries, Spock," the doctor flashed him a smile and then laughed outright. "You're acting like this because you love her. Love can make a man do crazy things."
"Love is a human emotion, doctor. I do not-"
"Love is universal, Spock, don't try to tell me it isn't." McCoy retorted. "If it wasn't you wouldn't be standing here apologizin' to me."
Spock's eyes fluttered but that was the only reaction McCoy got before Spock redirected the conversation. "When do you think she will wake up, Doctor?"
"Oh, not too long now, Spock," McCoy smiled knowingly. "Not too long."
Spock blinked and then looked through the glass door to the prone form of the toddler and swallowed.
"She's just like you already, Spock. Always has to prove me wrong." McCoy chuckled. "Lord help me."
Spock continued to stare, not acknowledging the doctor at all. His eyes locked onto her chest once more and let the shallow, but even respirations calm his horribly frazzled nerves. –Get well soon, child.-
-END-
