"Can I ask you something?"

Later the same day, Kirk and Spock were together in Spock's quarters again, Kirk being comprehensively obliterated at chess. The captain never thought he'd see the day he was pleased by this.

Spock did not respond with words, but he looked up at Kirk expectantly.

"What does McCoy do, when he comes to check on you?" Kirk asked. By offering no warning, he limited the chance of mental withdrawal. He saw a slight flicker showing Spock had indeed, been caught off guard, but nothing worse.

"What is he checking for, exactly?"

"It is standard procedure, Captain. He is simply comparing my current readings to that at peak fitness." Spock replied, if a little stiffly.

"And how do they compare?"

Spock thought about this, studying the rook in his hand intently as though it knew the answer.

"Copper levels too low, blood pressure too high."

"Ah." Kirk acknowledged. Those were symptoms he didn't need to be a doctor to interpret. He felt his stomach tighten slightly at the contracted manner in which Spock had answered. It was unlike him in the extreme. "Blood pressure is normal in high stress situations. Do I take it from what McCoy said earlier, you're not eating?"

"All living things must eat to remain alive." Spock replied. No one could use pedantry as a shield quite like him. "The doctor is concerned I am not eating enough. This is incorrect, I can go for long periods of time without sustenance."

Kirk nodded slowly, watching as Spock put the rook down in a rather threatening position and murmured 'check'.

"That's true, but it's an ability, useful to desert dwelling folk. On a star ship, it strikes me as somewhat illogical. Unless it's more simply, another indicator of stress?"

Kirk saw an opportunity to move his King to safety, but he continued to ponder the board.

"That is what the doctor believes." Came the slow reply. There was something in the inflection, something that reminded Kirk of when Spock first explained what had happened. He had never claimed or even convincingly suggested, the crew were right. Through the same indirect implication, the same emphasis on words he did not speak, Spock had made it clear he had not believed they were.

"I would be tempted to say that means it's not what you believe, but I don't think that's it, is it?" Kirk sat back from the table, indicating he wasn't willing to keep up the charade of chess playing over their discussion. The two of them at least, had been very straight forward with each other. He didn't want to slip into ambiguity with Spock too.

Spock looked up again, posture straightening minutely. His dark eyes showed very little as always, but the slight tension lining his jaw, gave away his discomfort.

"I do not know, captain. McCoy has evidence to support his conclusions."

"Hey, it doesn't take a doctor to see you're struggling now, but even you aren't indestructible. Left alone here for three weeks, it's hardly surprising your health is deteriorating. I think that's it though, I think you're stressed because of the Orion incident, not that you handled that incident as one who had succumbed to pressure."

Spock stared at the board, hands clasped rigidly in front of him, the slight quake returned with full force. He wasn't arguing, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Kirk regretted his approach almost immediately. It wasn't fair, as regardless of the cause, Spock was ill and his ability to hold his own in discussions like that was certainly under some question.

Kirk moved his hand to pick up his king, deliberately moving across Spock's line of vision, to reassure him he still had a shield, if he needed it. Kirk's king had not touched down on it's new place, before Spock broke the silence.

"You cannot know that. You were not there. There is nothing in any report submitted which is not an accurate accounting of events."

Cold, robotic, total withdrawal behind his mental walls.

"Accurate and complete are two different things. I know you. I know you would remove yourself from command if you found you'd made a reckless decision."

"History disagrees with you, captain." Spock almost spat. He looked surprised for a split second, before he got to his feet.

"Please excuse me, I do not feel up to completing our game this evening."

Kirk felt a rising regret akin to panic, realising he'd pushed Spock too far. He was clearly distressed by the turn the conversation was taking. It should not even have been possible to tell he was feeling anything at all.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I just want you to know I'm on your side." Kirk fumbled.

The door chime sounded, but Kirk barely heard it. For a split second Kirk had looked directly into Spock's eyes. There, for the briefest of instances, he'd seen complete and utter desperation.

Then the door opened and Spock actively stumbled backwards.

"What the hell is going on here?" McCoy demanded, looking absolutely confused at the scene that met him. Spock's obvious agitation had worsened considerably at the doctor's arrival, but McCoy was hardly to know that. His attention swivelled from Kirk to Spock, gaze darkening as it did. After a beat's pause, he fixed on Kirk.

"Which part of high stress levels didn't get through to you?" McCoy demanded as he crossed the room, scanning as he approached and going to take Spock's arm, planning to sit him back down.

As though momentarily possessed by his own human side, Spock jerked his arm away and pulled back even further, until he backed into the bulkhead.

"I am fine, doctor." Spock almost whispered.

"The hell you are." McCoy muttered, ignoring Spock's claim and scanning him with or without his consent. "Blood pressure's through the roof."

Spock stayed still, backed into a corner in every sense, while Kirk watched him like a hawk. There was no mistaking it this time, Spock was frightened. Rage coursed through Kirk's veins but still, he wasn't certain who to direct it at. McCoy seemed the obvious answer but he just could not bring himself to believe it.

A faint tremor shook Spock's entire body, eyes fixed on the doctor's hands as McCoy checked his results.

"Alright, I'm gonna give you a mild sedative Spock, help you calm down and avoid any heart damage."

Spock shook his head soundlessly, mouth opening as though he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"What's wrong, Spock?" Kirk interjected, cringing at the hard tone of his voice, but Spock didn't seem to notice.

"I do not...need..." Spock couldn't seem to focus for long enough to explain, but Kirk got the jist.

McCoy shook his head, irritated. His scan results obviously disagreed.

"Well I don't know what you were doing to get him so wired in the first place Jim, but I gotta bring his heart rate down."

Kirk looked between the two of them for a moment longer, before a decision settled on him. He almost shrugged, despite the seriousness of the situation. Striding forward in two steps, Kirk placed himself between Spock and McCoy, turning his head towards Spock.

"What the hell are you doing?" McCoy demanded. "Get out of the way."

"At this moment, you're not a danger to anyone else." Kirk spoke, keeping his attention on Spock. "You have the absolute right to refuse any medical treatment you don't want. You need to bring your heart-rate down. Listen to me, Spock. I will not allow any medication to which you do not consent."

As Kirk had been talking, he had been aware of McCoy, anger rising behind him. McCoy was not about to attempt to physically remove his captain from his path, but he did outrank Kirk on medical issues. Kirk had chosen his words carefully, making it clear that this was not a situation in which it would be acceptable by Star Fleet regulations, for McCoy to pull rank. Unless McCoy could prove Spock was a danger to others, he could not be forcibly sedated, if the captain ordered against it. A danger to himself, yes, but the requirement was to slow his heart down, nothing more.

Kirk saw the doctor blanch at the word 'consent'. He knew his friend well enough to know, despite it all, McCoy would not knowingly dismiss the will of a patient. All he was seeing was a crew member in a state of high agitation. His shock was to his credit, Kirk allowed. It meant McCoy really hadn't considered how completely ignoring the protests of a patient might appear.

Kirk watched Spock carefully, a sharp nod answering his straightforward instruction. Spock closed his eyes briefly, his fists clenching almost imperceptibly at his sides.

"Bones?" Kirk asked, voice soft and intended to be reassuring.

"Heart rate dropping..." McCoy confirmed, wonder in his voice along with something else Kirk could not quite place.

Spock opened his eyes and met the captain's, a more familiar, expressionless acceptance in his features.

"Thank you, Captain. Please forgive my lapse in focus."

Kirk could have laughed in relief, but the lingering questions had not gone anywhere. Kirk had prevented the adverse reaction Spock was having to his confinement getting any worse, but he was no closer to knowing the exact means by which Spock had ended up here.

Kirk turned his attention to McCoy, expression severe, but not in reproach. He found McCoy staring at him, something approaching disgust on his face.

"Excuse me." McCoy spoke before he could, turning on his heel and exiting without another word.

"Bones-" Kirk called after him, but McCoy either didn't hear, or chose not to respond.

Why was it, Kirk thought, that every step closer he got to answers, raised even more questions? One which continued to plague him, more than why Uhura was so minimally distressed, more than why Scotty and Sulu were so evasive, was what, on earth, McCoy had to be so angry about.

Nobody else seemed to share the same level of anger. There was awkwardness, definitely. Defensiveness and frustration by the bucket load, especially from Scotty, but nobody, other than McCoy, had seemed so consistently angry. Had Kirk not just demonstrated that whatever McCoy's chosen method was here; complete professionalism, ignoring the unorthodox state of affairs or whatever he was going for, was making Spock's anxiety worse? How was that a thing McCoy needed to be angry about?

"Are you alright?" Kirk asked, as Spock slid back into the chair next to the chess board.

"Yes, Sir." Spock murmured. His discomfort had clearly not abated. "I...apologise for my abruptness, before the doctor arrived."

"You weren't abrupt. I was pushing you." Kirk replied dismissively. He studied the other man for a moment, taking in the lines of tension around his eyes, the rigid posture noticeable even by Vulcan standards.

He had considered every possible explanation, he thought. Since he'd arrived back on board, Kirk would have sworn blind, he had taken the evidence presented to him without bias and attempted to find an answer through the building of data. He had asked every single person involved in the Orion battle and every person who had dealt with Spock since. He had considered every single possibility. Except, that Spock had made a mistake.

Kirk stared at his friend, his Vulcan friend and his all too human signs of distress, realising for the first time, just how biased he was. He had entered his unwilling investigation into Spock's removal from command, having already formed a conclusion. He assumed those responsible had done wrong.

Bones… It hinged on him, somehow. Kirk knew the doctor. McCoy would never, knowingly, harm Spock. He'd never knowingly harm anybody. He had spent the weeks of Kirk's absence trying to treat a psychologically unstable officer, his own friend. To have Kirk return and simply assume that it was anybody other than Spock who'd done wrong…was that a good enough reason to be angry?

"Captain." Spock's voice, flat yet, resigned, interrupted Kirk's tumultuous thoughts. Kirk looked up and found the Vulcan avoiding his eyes.

"I am fatigued. I wish to retire."

"Spock…" Kirk went to speak without any idea of what he planned to say. Biased or not, he had been of absolutely no help to the Vulcan so far.

Spock's eyes flickered, resting on his once more. In place of anxiety, tension of just a few minutes earlier, Kirk saw doubt, clear as day. His doubt. He watched, transfixed, as Spock quite visibly withdrew. He didn't move a muscle, nothing in his expression changed, but a cold glaze passed over his eyes and suddenly he was looking through the captain, rather than at him. Kirk knew if he spoke, he'd be answered with formal, logical, facts, nothing more.

Kirk stood up, feeling faintly ill. Whether Spock had read the questioning in his expression, or sensed it through more Vulcan methods, he didn't know, but he knew any headway he'd made with Spock himself, had been undone.

Worse than even this realisation, Kirk reflected as he left Spock's quarters, was an odd sensation of relief. He knew now, he would truly have to consider all options. Spock would not open up to him again, which meant he now had five members of his crew involved in something, with all five unwilling to fully explain their own position. He should have felt ashamed, or guilty, but in fact the most prominent emotion Kirk had, was relief he could now think of Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Sulu and Uhura as equal components of a thoroughly baffling puzzle.

Of course, he could not erase in his mind, Spock's statements so far. He knew Spock did not believe he'd acted wrongly, did not understand why his actions had been questioned, but this was all surely incidental, besides one undeniable truth. He had failed his psych evaluation.

He sat down at a table alone in the rec room, contemplating his coffee with a fervour he hoped would discourage others from joining him. If all the information he had at his disposal was accurate, then there was only one path he could take and nobody was going to like it.

Scotty had refused orders in an emergency situation. Sulu had undermined a commanding officer on the bridge. Uhura…As far as Kirk could tell she hadn't actually broken any regulations. Neither had McCoy, except perhaps, showing insubordination in his attitude to Kirk, but that was hardly a first. Then there was Spock, who by his own admittance, was unfit for duty. He had now been signed off for three weeks, which meant Kirk would have to leave him at Starbase VIII until he'd recovered.

He had, said it himself. Kirk tried to quiet the squirming of guilt in his gut at the very thought. He had rescinded Spock's official confinement himself, removing any question of disciplinary action from his records. Illness was not a weakness for which he deserved to be punished.

"I…am."

Not, I was.

McCoy had done nothing but his job. Surely. He'd done his job before, he'd confined, even restrained or sedated Spock against his will in the past, when medical necessity forced his hand. Spock had never responded to him with anything more than exasperation.

He thought about the medical logs on Spock's evaluation. First, were simple medical tests, none of which had shown any anomalies. The problem had arisen with the doctor's spoken exam, during which, Spock had shown signs of agitation outside of his usual character. When challenged, he had shown outright aggression, forcing McCoy to sedate him. Once awake again, it had taken four security guards to restrain him. Four witnesses, beside the doctor.

In the face of this rather undeniable evidence, why was it that Kirk could not force himself to hold to his own reasoning? In the space of a few hours, he had lost any sense of relief, to overwhelming regret. McCoy was angry, Uhura was hurt, Scotty and Sulu were defensive but all four of them were making their own decisions. Spock had no such freedom. He was alone and having moralised the others about their treatment of him, Kirk too, had somehow managed to abandon him.

He hesitated at the door to Spock's quarters, one down from his own. He could go and tell him…what, exactly? That he didn't really doubt him? It wasn't a question of doubt, it was a medical fact. That he believed Spock had been treated poorly, did not alter this.

He had just gotten back to his quarters, planning to see if he could sleep for a few hours before his next shift, when his door chime sounded.

He groaned loudly into his hands, far from in the mood for company. His visitor seemed to take this as instruction to enter, as the door hissed open and he was joined in short order, by a rather unsteady, yet jovial Doctor McCoy.

"Jim!" He greeted with a kind of dopey warmth.

As the doctor moved determinedly towards his desk, Kirk wasn't sure whether to be angry or intrigued, at the evident fact McCoy was blind drunk.

"It's late, doctor." Kirk stated, watching his friend with a weary frown. "While I sincerely hope you aren't on shift in the morning, I am."

McCoy did not respond to his hint, so he tried a clearer tact.

"Bones, what are you doing here?" He asked the physician's back. The other man had begun rummaging in the cupboards behind his desk.

"I, am pouring myself a drink, Captain." He replied, with utterly absurd propriety.

Kirk couldn't argue with him. He was certainly programming a command into Kirk's personal replicators.

"I would say you've had enough." Kirk commented, taking a step forward with the intention of stopping the doctor further intoxicating himself. He stopped, as McCoy turned back to him with a plastic cup of water in his hand.

The doctor raised a decidedly Spock-like eyebrow at him, as though the assumption he'd meant an alcoholic drink was in some way unreasonable. He then raised his glass to Kirk and drained the contents in one long gulp.

"You're right, Jim." He spoke, somewhat breathless. "I think I've had exactly enough. You might want to grab yourself something to catch up."

"I told you, I'm on duty in….well in six hours, but I had intended to sleep in between." Kirk told him dryly. In truth, he was not tired, nor did he imagine sleep would come easy. He was struggling to find rest anywhere on his ship, while the mystery of his first officer remained.

McCoy eyed him slowly, regaining his focus. He turned and refilled his water cup, before shifting to Kirk's desk, where he dropped into his chair with a soft thwump.

"If you're not going to drink, at least sit down." He requested flatly.

The intrigue prompted by his arrival returned, along with a growing sense of apprehension. Kirk moved into the chair in front of his desk without complaint.

"Why are you here, Bones?" He repeated. He took care to remove any hostility from his tone, which in truth was not difficult. He was saddened by the scenes he had witnessed between Spock and McCoy, individually and together, but mostly, he was worried, rather than angry.

"I am here, Jim Boy, because I am drunk and it was the only way." This, the doctor said as though it was all the explanation needed.

Kirk allowed a gradually deepening glare to do his grumpy commanding officer work for him. The doctor looked up from his second glass of water and shook his head slowly.

"I wouldn't bother trying to formal-glare me into an explanation, Captain." Suddenly his diction was clear as day. He wasn't any less drunk, but giving up on his motor functions and pumping his stomach full of water, at least seemed to have cleared his head.

A shiver beyond any sense of unease he'd felt since his return, snaked it's way down Kirk's spine. Anger, he'd labelled the aggressive, defensive lack of cooperation from the doctor, but he could see no evidence of any such emotion. He was looking now, at a man haunted.

"Bones…"

"Do what you have to do, Jim, whatever, you have to do, but put this right, cos God only knows I don't know how." McCoy stared at his hands, watching as they shook almost imperceptibly.

"Nobody is lying, per se, but this can't…." He refocused on Jim, eyes blazing with such ferocity, Kirk felt real fear rising in his chest.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised he's…" McCoy closed his eyes, breathing heavily outwards, expelling the last strains of resistance. "He's bloody terrible with human crew members, you know that? God only knows what would have happened if I'd done nothing, but what I did to him was…torture, nothing less."

He drained his glass, before glaring at it in disgust, remembering it's contents would clear his head further, not muffle his painful thoughts.

Still, silent in his chair, Kirk let McCoy's words repeat in his mind. His rambling, he disregarded. It would have been possible to work out, he was somewhat shaken by the display of fear shown by his Vulcan patient earlier in the day. Kirk had sensed there was something not right in McCoy's take on Spock's removal. Was the explanation that the doctor had been too involved, in his mind? Did he mean torture for him?

No, Kirk knew before the question had finished forming in his mind. He knew just by looking at McCoy, he was drowning in guilt.

"I don't understand." He stated with total honesty. Not just the claim Bones had made, but any of it.

McCoy looked up, bloodshot, bleary eyes still trying to glare.

"I thought he was about to be illegally and forcibly removed from command, so I lied. I said he was psychologically unfit."

"But he wasn't." Kirk prodded, amazed by his own sense of calm.

Bones looked him straight in the eyes, a bone deep chill shivering down the captain's spine.

"He was, by the time the psych evaluation was finished."

"Bones, what happened?" Kirk's voice held the faintest hint of tremor, forced calm and suppressed fear.

"It all happened like we said, but you were right, they had no right to challenge Spock. I was there. He didn't know the crew's attacks were a real threat, he did nothing to dispel or punish their anger, he just ignored it, exactly like with the Galileo. Once the ship was clear, he asked for the usual follow ups, casualty reports, engine damage etc. People answered with recalcitrance. 'The engines aren't working, Captain, there's a surprise…' Sulu said something like 'Helm fails to answer, sir, please don't nerve pinch me.' Spock was confused by it all, because we were safe. Uhura saw all the same things I did. He'd been dismissive of their uncertainties, then forceful when needed, without any of the kind of assurances humans need. He didn't understand why, having saved us all and got the ship out of danger, the rest of the crew's irrational response to fear wasn't gone."

The doctor stopped, taking a deep, shuddering breath and burying his face in his hands. Kirk was, for the moment, too incensed to speak. This was not quite the report he'd been given by those on the bridge, to say the least.

"He's done it before." McCoy went on, not caring his voice was shaking violently. "Spock doesn't do anything indirect, he just outright asked us what the problem was."

Kirk sucked in a breath at that. No commanding officer needed to explain or justify themselves to their subordinates. He knew Spock overlooked rudeness and insubordination in humans he deemed to be petty, because it was the most efficient way of stopping it having any effect. Efficient, but not always wise, in the long run. It didn't necessary discourage doing it again, the next time they were annoyed by a commanding officer.

"Scotty told him he had put the entire ship and crew in danger and now, damaged as we were, we were sitting ducks. Blind luck alone would get us back and as Spock didn't believe in luck, maybe he could try violence again."

Imagine the depth Scotty's highland brogue would reach, while locked in the brig…Kirk mused. If his engineer had spoke to him like that, he would have found himself in there pronto. Maybe not for long, but at least as long as it took him to read all regulations regarding mutiny and the chain of command, one hundred times. Kirk's skin itched with contempt at the very thought.

"I would have tried to support him, Jim, really." Bones almost pleaded. "But Sulu got there first. He backed Scotty, said there had been no need to act as Spock had and if he'd listened, we wouldn't be lost in space." McCoy closed his eyes in frustration. "It opened the floodgates. Chekov, Kyle, Riley, Miller…all said it was ridiculous. Spock being…Spock, took them literally. He asked if they thought he had acted irrationally, endangering the ship and if so, they must submit that he be removed from command, on medical grounds. They already weren't following his orders, they were hurling abuse at him without shame. I suggested he allow a simple psych evaluation to prove he had not acted irrationally…" Bones trailed off and sighed heavily. "I shouldn't have stopped drinking."

"Okay." Kirk breathed out heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and laying the other flat on the desk between them.

"Tell me, how a psych evaluation turns to…torture, to borrow your phrase." He almost growled. "In fact, no, tell me what exactly you thought would be achieved by a psych evaluation, at that moment?"

"A chance for him to make his own choice!" McCoy almost wailed back. "They were seconds from accusing him of exactly what he'd suggested. Irrational action which placed the ship in danger. If they had, Sulu could have forced him. I would have had no say in the matter. Instead, I offered to prove there was nothing wrong with his brain, giving him the change to agree himself, which he did."

McCoy stared down at the desk, more to help focus his memory than to avoid looking at the captain. Where he was looking made very little difference. He could feel Kirk was glaring at him, wondering just how far wrong he'd gone. If he'd been sober, the presumption would have annoyed him. Kirk had not been there, he didn't known how bad it had gotten. As it was, numbed by alcohol and drained by weeks of uncertainty, he was long beyond anger.

"At that point, my plan was simply to diffuse a rapidly spiralling ugly scene. I would return his evaluation and regulations would make it clear that Spock couldn't be asked to rescind command. The danger had been subjective, he'd made a call, nobody had to like it."

Kirk straightened in his seat. This was precisely the issue he'd been trying to get answers on since he got back on board. He knew Spock was well able to ruffle feathers with his oblivious lack of emotion. That did not explain how he'd come to be removed from command.

"So what happened?" He asked, unable to hold back his frustration. "You aren't going to tell me he failed his psych exam."

Somehow, even though McCoy had claimed exactly that on multiple occasions, he just knew it wasn't possible. Spock would not have permitted himself the luxury of bending under pressure.

"He was four-oh and we both knew it." McCoy agreed. He didn't even feel an urge to insult Spock's computerised brain.

"I'd left him with a reactions test, when Sulu and Scotty came into my office. Spock never knew this happened. They said that they were willing to accept a medical sign off but that either way, he had to go. I…I had underestimated how deep the effects of thinking they were all going to die at Spock's hands went. They wanted to know if I would support them, given I had been on bridge and knew he had nearly killed us all - their words."

Kirk was fighting to keep his cool, but he heard the anger in McCoy's voice and even though his own, considerable agitation, he appreciated it. He forced himself to stay quiet and let him finish.

"They were planning to confront him, when he inevitably passed the psych exam. To say he'd broken the law in assaulting Scotty and that he was to be signed off until we reached Starbase Eight and he could be appropriately tried by a command officer. As Scotty was the aggrieved party it would be inappropriate for him to take command, so Sulu would. He was needed to fix the engines anyway. I asked what they were planning to do with Spock during all this and they thought themselves fairly magnanimous for planning to confine him to quarters, if he cooperated. If he didn't, they'd have had him thrown in the brig."

The numbers had been simple enough, so Kirk didn't ask why Scotty and Sulu thought security would act against their commanding officer. If basically the rest of the bridge crew, less Uhura, sided with them, security would too. Crew. Captain. Ship. Their duties were clear. If a convincing case was made that the captain, be it Acting Captain Spock or Captain Kirk himself, was endangering the crew, the duty of the security department was to protect the crew. Spock could defend himself against Scotty or Sulu or both, but he couldn't fend off an entire security team.

"Now I don't need to tell you." McCoy went on. "Spock would not have cooperated. He hadn't broken the law and he would know that. He would have tried to have Sulu or Scotty and anyone who stood with them, arrested for mutiny - as he would have been right to do."

Kirk closed his eyes, not needing the rest filled in for him.

"Security would have sided with them and, if he'd tried to stop them escorting him off the bridge he'd have ended up in the brig."

McCoy had been watching his shipmates set Spock up for a trap which could have caused innumerable injuries, an incalculable shaking of crew morale and at best, Spock confined to quarters for assault. A charge which would stick, once he'd tried to fight off security.

"Why didn't you tell them he hadn't broken the law?" Kirk asked, though he no longer doubted the doctor had an answer.

"I did." McCoy sighed. "I was indirect about it, don't get me wrong, but I asked if they were certain they wouldn't get themselves into a bind. They said that regulations assume the commanding officer is uncompromised, by emotion, illness or ambition. Their argument was that if his evaluation was clear, which we were all pretty certain it would be, then his foolhardiness had been clearheaded."

"Were they suggesting his was vying for the captaincy?" Kirk asked, with an almost entertained scowl. Spock was the most loyal officer in the fleet. He would never challenge Kirk's command, wouldn't take it if it was offered.

"Jim, it didn't matter. They were accusing him of not being good enough to lead. They were right, in that he couldn't hold the loyalty or even the obedience, of the crew."

Kirk wanted to argue. Instinct told him to refuse to accept the charge of inadequate leadership…but he was wrong. One of the most important facets of a command, was the ability to control one's crew. Kirk realised now, only too clearly, what McCoy had meant when he said he'd 'pulled him out of the line of mutiny or worse'.

Had McCoy done nothing, allowing events to take their course, Spock's best case scenario would have been to have his crew mutiny. He'd have been stripped of command, confined to his quarters and been placed in the ugly position of later testifying in the case of the only successful complete mutiny in Starfleet history. It could have damaged the careers of every single member of the crew, however uninvolved they might have been. That was the best case scenario. Other possibilities included Spock quite logically attempting to defend his command. He could have ended up in the brig, he could have hurt someone, or as he would have been outnumbered, he could have been hurt himself. The only way to prevent a catastrophic confrontation, was for Spock to fail his psych exam. The only problem with that, was there had been nothing wrong with his psych. Kirk's head throbbed.

"When you told him he'd failed the evaluation, knowing he hadn't…why didn't he object?"

The question was the only one Kirk could think of that didn't cause unrelenting fury to burn in his veins. Why didn't you explain the danger to Spock and detain the mutineers while he still had the upper hand? Why didn't you tell me this three days ago?

Kirk got the distinct impression McCoy had sensed all of the questions he hadn't asked, regardless, but he responded to the one he had, a pained grimace crossing his face.

"He would almost certainly have done more than object, if I'd given him half a chance. I injected him with tranquilliser, meant for humans only really, one of it's side effects is cognitive discordance - confusion. Vulcans react very badly to it. They automatically compensate for the tranquillising effect, but the confusion can be much worse, often involves aggression and even motor coordination failure."

The look on McCoy's face showed disgust with himself which could only be matched, not surpassed, by Kirk's.

"I told him it was a stimulant, he genuinely was overworked. I was questioning him while the drug took effect. When he was suitably confused as to what was happening to him, I told him he was acting irrationally and needed to calm down. This naturally completely bewildered him and he tried to leave, but he was unbalanced. I shot him a sedative and called security."

McCoy closed his eyes, swallowing the breaking of his voice. He did not deserve to get emotional.

"When he next woke, he knew I'd attacked him without reason but also that I'd accused him of irrationality. He tried to reason with me, but he was also wary of me coming too close, knowing I could quite easily drug him again. I asked him some questions with security watching, accusing enough to let him know he needed to answer, but nothing so direct he would find it easy. He was already compromised by the drugs, he got agitated really quickly. Security held him down while I sedated him again. Next time he woke up I had evidence he was physically overwrought and completely irrational. I even had witnesses."

McCoy could feel Kirk's anger through the desk between them, but it was somewhat overwhelmed by his own sense of guilt. He met his captain's eyes without difficulty. He would face the consequences of his actions happily, before he would live with what he knew. Live with the realisation he had abused his friend, not once for his own protecting, but consistently since, to protect himself. He had lied to him, watching his health deteriorate under the power of his lie.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kirk murmured. He sounded almost… relieved?

McCoy didn't break eye-contact.

"Because it didn't work. I meant to stop him getting really hurt because of his own ignorance. Instead I drove him to a breakdown. The others, Christ, Jim they didn't even ask. They've known he's been in his quarters, stripped of command for three weeks and nobody even asked if he was okay. They knew he couldn't have been or he'd have fought. Three weeks, for everyone involved to slowly realise they might have overstepped and to convince themselves it was all his fault. Uhura tried to talk to him, but once he recovered from the initial phase of disbelief, he asked her not to come back. I suspect, in her efforts to comfort him she might have implied he'd messed up."

Kirk couldn't imagine Spock ending his relationship over a criticism. He'd certainly accepted worse in the past.

"Bones." Kirk blurted, sudden desperation rising in his gut. "I don't understand, why have you been fighting me all this time? What are you so angry about?"

"I don't know!" McCoy almost yelled back at him. "I just…the last few weeks have been a nightmare, Jim, I didn't have you, or…"

"Or Spock?" Kirk filled in, voice softening.

"I never meant to hurt him, Jim…When he woke the second time I…I don't know what I thought would happen. I think I was entertaining some idea I could explain to him and then I'd be able to keep him safe and sane until you came back, but when he woke up… He was restrained and there were security all around, his control was shattered by the tranquiliser. He looked at me and he was… terrified. I didn't realise what it must have seemed like, to him. I'd turned on him completely and he was powerless. He trusted me, now he'd have to fight through me to get his position back. As far as he knew, he didn't have a single supporter left on board. When the drugs wore off, I took him back to his quarters, told him I'd be monitoring him, that it was just stress. That might have convinced him not to panic just yet, except Scotty and Sulu had sent a security escort who Miranda'd him, just in case he was in any doubt as to his position. The days passed and I waited for him to demand an explanation or an audience with Sulu, but he didn't. He kept an eye on ship's happening from his console. Nothing went wrong on the way back so I guess, nothing to drive him to drastic action. He was…not right, he wasn't eating, he got gradually more withdrawn until he stopped even asking questions. I never realised just how…damaged, he was, until earlier, with you."

So that was it, Kirk thought to himself. He had wondered what had triggered this sudden turn around, but it was obvious really. Kirk had seen proof of McCoy's effect on Spock that afternoon and it seemed, so had McCoy. It couldn't have been a nice realisation for a doctor, that one of his patient's was scared of him.

He watched McCoy for a moment longer, considering.

"To hell with this." He spoke suddenly, standing up. He was a damn, good Captain and he had known what was wrong from the start. He had wondered whose fault this whole mess was, discounting Spock from the start, whatever he'd tried to tell himself that afternoon.

The truth was simpler than he'd imagined. It was his fault. In three years he'd barely put a foot wrong. He was the best captain in the fleet and entirely unafraid to own it. One little set back and he'd returned to his ship questioning himself, questioning his crew, instead of taking action, as was his signature move.

"Come with me."

McCoy cocked an only slightly drunk eyebrow at him, though he got to his own feet, compelled to obey.

"Where are we going?"

Kirk grinned at him.

"You, are going to talk to Spock."