The alarm came too soon. He slammed his hand onto it before it could wake Spock, but perhaps he needn't have worried. The Vulcan was so deep in sleep he did not even stir. He was utterly exhausted, Jim knew.

He slipped out of bed and made sure that Spock was properly covered by his blanket. He looked around the room briefly, wondering if there were anything he could do to make it easier for Spock when he woke, but he didn't want to move anything or leave anything that Spock would not be able to see. Dammit, he just didn't know what to do for him, how to take care of a blind person.

He went into the bathroom and got into the shower, more to wake himself up than to get clean, since he had showered last night. The water pushed some of the sluggishness away, and he was glad he had done it.

He turned back to the door to Spock's quarters for a moment, then set his shoulders and walked on into his own to get his uniform and eat some breakfast. He hoped that Spock would sleep for a long time. Maybe later he could grab a break and come back down to check on him. In the meantime perhaps he could arrange for a nurse or yeoman to check in on him.

He downed a bowl of museli, thinking grimly how McCoy would approve of that healthy breakfast. He would have preferred bacon and eggs but he was almost certain the doctor had some kind of alarm system that alerted him when his captain chose too many unhealthy meals in a row. He rubbed his hands over his face again as he waited for his coffee to brew. Damn it, it would be nice one morning to just forget about healthy eating, to not bother if he spilt egg yolk down the front of his tunic, to go unwashed and unshaven, to goof off and not appear on the bridge until noon, if at all. He felt like he badly needed a rest, and he wasn't likely to get one any time soon.

He had a little time right now and perhaps his first task of the morning should be to educate himself about Spock's condition. He turned on his terminal and accessed the Fed-web, and started looking for guides on blindness.

Half an hour later he was on the bridge overseeing relief efforts, taking messages and sending them to and from the captains of various ships that were arriving at the planet, trying to get a moment to ascertain what Sam and Aurelan's burial preferences were and if they had a will, parrying McCoy's calls from sick bay about the medical situation down on the planet. They had beamed up some of the weakest patients, mostly children and the elderly, after they had exposed the planet to ultraviolet light and killed the parasites, and sick bay was stretched to its limits while also trying to attend to some of the worst cases down on the planet. Meanwhile, Pete was about to undergo his own treatment, now McCoy judged him strong enough to handle it.

'Mr Sulu, you have the bridge,' he said abruptly. He hadn't intended to be down there, but he knew that he should be. He was all Peter had on the ship and if he were to come round he would want his uncle there.

'Aye, sir,' Sulu said, vacating his console and beckoning for a replacement as Kirk left his chair.

'I'll – I'm not sure when I'll be back up,' Kirk said with uncharacteristic uncertainty. It was getting close to his lunch break and while the ship was busy, it was not a red alert situation and there was no real reason why he could not take the break.

'We can cover it, sir,' Sulu said reassuringly, giving him a smile as he took the con.

Kirk patted a hand onto his shoulder. He was grateful to have such a good team up here.

((O))

The sick bay was almost unbearable. There were people everywhere, all the beds were filled. People were sobbing while nurses and orderlies tried to comfort them. As soon as they caught sight of the captain with the strips of braid on his sleeves it seemed that everyone wanted to catch his attention.

'No, no, not right now,' he had to say again and again. 'No, I want to find McCoy.' He turned to a nurse. 'Do you know where McCoy is? Has he started on Peter Kirk yet?'

'He's just taken him down to the treatment chamber,' the nurse told him with a smile. 'You should be in time.'

Jim turned on his heel and pushed out of the room, turning down towards the labs where the temporary treatment chamber had been set up. It was quieter out here at least, but he felt a horrible sense of being haunted as he went into the lab and through into that small room where Spock had been blinded. There was the table he had walked into, there was the chair he had sat in. McCoy and Nurse Chapel were clustered around the chamber door and seemed to be strapping an unconscious Peter Kirk into the chair.

'Bones,' Kirk called out.

McCoy looked over his shoulder. 'Oh, Jim, just in time. It's good you're here.'

'You're sure it's safe now?'

McCoy laughed briefly. 'Jim, we've treated over a million people simultaneously on the planet last night, and it was like a miracle cure. People are getting back on their feet, starting to pull things back together. I'm not saying it's not a mess down there, but yes, the treatment's safe.' The doctor looked over at the nurse, who was closing the door on the chamber. 'All set, Christine?'

'All set,' she nodded. She looked briefly at Kirk and there was pain in her eyes as she asked quietly, 'How is Mr Spock, Captain?'

'He's – doing all right,' Kirk said. He wasn't sure what else to say.

'Okay, this is lovely, but that boy in there needs his treatment,' McCoy said brusquely, handing out goggles.

'I thought the light was safe now, Bones?' Kirk asked curiously as he took them. A dark feeling rose in him at the thought of the last time he had worn these.

'It is, but better safe than sorry.'

Kirk met Christine Chapel's eyes without meaning to, and a spear of sadness seemed to pass between them. He raised the goggles to his eyes, and then McCoy threw the switch to turn on the light.

'All right, that should be enough,' he said after about twenty seconds. Together he and Chapel opened the door and took the unconscious form of Peter Kirk out of the chamber. He looked so very small in that chair and in McCoy's arms.

'Scans show the creature is completely gone,' Chapel confirmed, holding out a tricorder. 'He just needs to recover now.'

'Hear that, Jim?' McCoy asked with a bright smile. All the tension in the room was suddenly gone. 'Let's get him back to his room.'

Jim hadn't asked if Petey had a separate room because he was the Captain's nephew, or just because of the seriousness of his condition. He suspected the latter. Bones wasn't the type to pander to rank. He watched as Peter was laid on the gurney and followed him back to his room.

'How soon will he come around, Bones?' he asked as the doctor settled him in bed.

McCoy looked up at the monitors above the bed, and then double checked with his own scanner.

'I'd rather keep him out for a while longer yet. He's still very weak. I want to give him intravenous nutrition for a while to build him up. So – you go and check on Spock, why don't you? Oh, and tell him I'm going to want to see him later to check on – well, just to check on things.'

Jim smiled with sudden relief at the respite. He didn't know how to deal with Peter yet, how to talk to him about his parents and tell him he would probably never go home.

'Okay, Bones,' he said quietly. 'Just – tell me as soon as you're ready to bring him round, won't you?'

'I will,' the doctor promised. 'Now, go to Spock.'

((O))

He opened the door cautiously, half wondering if Spock were still asleep. He had called down to his cabin once during the morning but got no answer. He had decided against sending a nurse or yeoman down, certain that Spock would see that as an inexcusable intrusion of privacy and knowing that if he needed help, he would surely call for it.

The lights were off as he entered, and he palmed them on.

'Spock?' he asked quietly, looking around.

He was there in his sleeping area, wearing a dark blue robe, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of his meditation statue. The grizzled old bear creature sat in stately immobility, the flame in its bowl burning gently.

'Spock, can I disturb you?' Jim asked. He generally left Spock alone during meditation.

Spock blinked and turned, and for a moment his eyes were on Jim's and it was as if he could see. Jim's heart jumped. Then his head turned a little further, and it was evident that nothing had changed.

'Jim,' he said quietly. He cocked his head a little to one side, then said, 'I am not sure of the time.'

'Just gone noon,' Jim told him. 'Have you eaten anything today?'

Spock shook his head, and Kirk sighed.

'I have not been hungry,' Spock said at the small sound. 'I did not wake up until about an hour ago.'

Jim smiled and came across the room to him. It was odd to hear Spock speaking with such uncertainty about time. Usually he was accurate to within a second, but it seemed that the strain of the past week had thrown him off.

'Why don't you come and have something to eat now?' Jim asked him.

Spock breathed out slowly, and did not answer. Jim sat down companionably close to him on the edge of the bed, bumping his shoulder against Spock's.

'Come on, Spock,' he said. 'You need to eat. You'll have Bones on your back if you don't.'

'Jim, I have been thinking,' Spock said seriously.

'You're always thinking. That doesn't mean you shouldn't eat.'

'I have been thinking about my future,' Spock clarified. 'I wish to resign my commission.'

It felt like a blow. Jim didn't know what to say. He reached out and placed a hand over Spock's, and Spock curled his fingers around it.

'Spock, you don't need to do that,' he said.

'I have no place in Starfleet,' Spock continued.

'Listen, Spock,' Jim insisted. 'It's too soon to know anything about your eyes and what you might be able to do, but one thing's certain – the Fleet will look after you. They have a duty to look after you. For god's sake don't throw that away. Don't – please don't – do anything now that you might regret later.'

Spock sighed. Jim leant sideways to rest his head against Spock's sleek hair.

'Promise me you won't do anything like that, Spock,' he said. 'It's not like you to act rashly.'

Spock flinched a little at that, as if the accusation of rashness had hit home. After a moment he nodded. 'I promise.'

'Good. Now, will you eat something?'

Spock shook his head. 'I am not hungry,' he said.

'Come on,' Jim insisted, putting a hand under his elbow and making him stand up. He touched the extinguisher on the meditation flame and a slight scent of smoke rose into the air. 'Shall I find you some clothes?'

Spock brushed a hand down the front of his robe.

'Yes, thank you,' he said.

Jim didn't ask if he were dressed in the robe out of preference or because of some perceived inability. He just went to the Vulcan's drawers and pulled out underwear and a uniform, certain that was what he would prefer to wear.

'Do you need help, Spock?' he asked as he passed the clothes to him.

'I don't believe so,' Spock replied.

'Then I'll fix you something to eat,' he said.

In a few minutes Spock was seated at his desk with a plate of food in front of him. As he had last night, Jim had picked out some of his favourites to try to tempt him. He could tell that the Vulcan had little interest in what was on the plate, but he was eating to please Jim.

'Pete's been treated now,' Jim said conversationally.

'That is good,' Spock nodded. He speared a cube of vegetable on his fork and brought it to his mouth. After a moment he asked, 'How is the boy?'

'Bones is keeping him under for a while yet, but he's doing well. He's free from that pain at last, thank god.'

'Good,' Spock nodded.

After he had eaten a little more he leant back in his chair and sighed.

'Had enough?' Jim asked.

Spock was silent for a moment before he replied distractedly, 'Yes. Yes, I have had enough.'

Jim sat just looking at him for a while. The air felt thick with tension. He felt as if there were a thousand words that needed to be said but neither he nor Spock could manage to say them.

'I spoke to mom last night,' he said after a while. 'Told her about Sam and Aurelan. She wants to take Pete.'

Spock frowned a little, and then abruptly he pushed his plate aside and got to his feet.

'Jim, do you have more time to spare?' he asked.

Jim did not even look at the chrono. 'Of course, Spock,' he said. 'What do you want?'

Spock shook his head. 'I confess I find myself – I am rather at a loss, Jim. I have been cloistered in quarters since yesterday.'

'You want to get out? Go for a walk?'

'Perhaps,' he nodded. 'Although I do confess it feels strange to have to ask for your assistance.'

'It's fine, Spock,' Jim assured him. 'I've been doing a little reading, Spock, just about little things, techniques.'

'Techniques for the blind?' Spock asked, turning his head toward Jim with a quizzical look. The eyebrow raising above the empty eye cut him as it always did.

'Yes, Spock,' he said rather awkwardly. 'If you just take my arm – no, like that,' he said, repositioning the Vulcan's hand. 'Just above the elbow. That way you can follow my guidance more easily. Shall we walk down to sick bay? Bones said he wanted to see you.'

'That would be acceptable,' Spock said.

If he felt awkward about venturing out into the corridors he did not say so. He curled his hand around Jim's arm and followed him to the door. Jim pressed his other hand over Spock's fingers, then walked him out into the corridor.

They walked in silence for a little while, and then Spock said in a low, serious voice, 'Jim, you must allow me to consider my future.'

'I do,' Jim said quickly. 'I do, I just don't want you making any sudden decisions. Resigning your commission – that's unnecessary and it's sudden. It's far, far too soon, Spock. There's no need at all for you to leave the Fleet. Have you – ' He hesitated, looked over his shoulder to be sure they were alone, then continued, 'Spock, have you considered how that might affect me? I'm your bond mate for god's sake.'

'Very many bonded couples spend a great deal of time apart, Jim,' Spock pointed out in a voice which although level, sounded rather strained.

'Maybe they do,' Jim nodded, feeling his temper rising, growing more out of control as he spoke, 'but are any of them bonds between a Vulcan and a human, Spock? You may be able to cut me out of your thoughts on a whim, but it's not something I can do or something I want to do.'

His arm jerked backwards as Spock stopped in his tracks. He could feel through their bond that his words had hurt the Vulcan even behind his shields.

'Jim,' Spock said, and there was a desperate tone to his voice.

Spock was still holding onto his arm. Jim took a step backwards so that they were level again. They were still alone in the corridor.

'Spock, I'm sorry,' he said. 'This has been a strain on me too. I – ' He looked around and saw that they were close to a briefing room. 'Come with me, Spock,' he said, turning toward the room and taking him inside. He engaged the privacy lock. 'Sit down, Spock,' he said, then experienced a moment of awkwardness as he tried to work out how to transfer the Vulcan to a chair. 'Look, the info said like this,' he continued, putting the hand of his guiding arm on the back of the chair. 'Slide your hand down my arm to the chair. Okay?'

'Thank you, Jim,' Spock replied quietly, his fingers moving down Jim's arm with infinite care and then finding the seat..

Jim did not feel in the least like sitting down, but he pulled a chair up and set it opposite Spock's so they were almost knee to knee.

'I need you to understand, Spock, that where you go, I go too,' he said seriously. 'This has had a huge impact on you, of course it has, but – '

'I do not discount the impact on you, Jim,' Spock said, reaching out his hand. Jim took it. 'The death of your brother and his wife. When I said I understood, I meant it. I do understand grief, Jim, even if I choose to shield it from public view. I also understand that this – this disability – must necessarily impact on you. But I cannot ask you to give up your career for me.'

'Spock, I don't think you do understand,' Kirk pressed, feeling very close to an emotional breakdown. He took Spock's other hand too, held them both tight. His hands felt so warm, so strong in his. He had loved Spock's hands for a long time. His hands, his wrists, the delicate points of his ears, the sharpness of his cheekbones. 'I can't be without you, Spock. I can't be millions of miles away from you and leave you alone in this, as much as for myself as for you. Either we both stay on this ship, or neither of us do. Can you understand that?'

Spock sighed. He suddenly looked very tired, almost as if he himself were about to cry.

'Jim, I cannot stand for this to destroy your life too,' he said, and that hit Jim like a blow. This was the first time that Spock had, albeit obliquely, admitted the magnitude of the impact of his blindness on him.

'You know, we can't both break down,' Jim said, his voice suddenly choked. He was laughing a little but only to stop himself from crying. 'Spock, we have to work out what to do. We have to spend time and thought on this. I don't want to lose my command. I don't think you want to lose your place in the Fleet either. There must be a way...'

Spock took in a deep breath, and by the way it shuddered a little Jim knew that he too was close to the edge emotionally. He had been under such strain for so long.

'The first thing we must do is go to see the good doctor,' Spock said. 'And you must fulfil the Enterprise's role in this crisis. Whatever may happen, you are the captain at this moment, and you have your duty.'

'Yes,' Jim said, trying not to bend under the dull weight of that word. 'Yes, I have my duty. I guess I'd better get you down to sickbay, then carry on with that duty, eh?'

Spock nodded solemnly, but he pressed his fingers over Jim's and a warm sensation of love spread into his mind. The one thought that revolved in his head as he stood and let Spock take his arm was that they were not going to be torn apart by this. Whatever happened, he was not going to leave Spock's side.