"Jim, it's getting worse." McCoy's face was tight with worry and exhaustion.
Kirk sighed heavily, the strain of these past few days were starting to wear on all of them. "How bad?"
McCoy was silent.
Rising slowly, Kirk made his way down to sickbay, as he approached the door, he saw Uhura tentatively peek out the doorway before walking quickly down the hall, trying hard not to be noticed.
So she had been in there too. This was bad. Kirk paused before entering; not sure if he wanted to see what was in there. It had been bad enough when they'd brought him in.
Spock had gone missing five days ago. Something went wrong on the exploratory mission and he had disappeared. They had tried countless methods of finding him, contacting his communicator, search parties, everything. But the Vulcan seemed to have vanished. It was on the fourth day, when they had sent down another search party that they found him.
He was lying unconscious in a field and was covered with all signs of abuse. They had quickly beamed his limp body aboard the Enterprise and rushed him to sickbay where Bones and his team of nurses had done the best they could to piece him back together. Bones had come out of sickbay that day looking ill and not himself. Kirk was waiting outside the door when he exited and will never forget the look on the old man's face.
"They beat him, Jim." His voice barely above a whisper, "They beat him good."
The next day, the Vulcan was conscious, but seemed slight delusional. He wouldn't speak of what had happened to him, but was often mixing English and Vulcan together, creating strings of sentences that didn't make any sense. Bones had put an end to it by giving him a sedative. Saying it was better for him to unconscious and healing than awake and raving.
Kirk sighed, squaring his shoulders and pushed open the door.
It seemed like any other sickbay. The nurses moved quietly, monitors beeped and machines hummed. All was as it should be. All for that one figure who should not be there. He was awake, that was good. But his eyes seemed more distant, not themselves. He was watching Kirk closely, but Kirk felt hesitant, not wanting to step closer.
"Jim?"
Spock's voice was raspy, his eyes seemed puzzled.
"Yeah, Spock. It's me." He didn't move closer.
"I…am… innocent."
Kirk didn't understand but nodded, "Of course you are."
"They lied. Blamed me for it." His sentences were short and labored and Kirk winced every time he spoke. "The leader….he is responsible… didn't do it…."
Kirk's blue eyes clouded and he pulled up a chair, forgetting his misgivings. "What didn't you do?"
Spock shook his head, showing a heavy bruise above his eyebrow. "Didn't do it."
Kirk gave a short, nervous breath. Whoever did this to him had heck to pay.
Spock gripped shakily at Kirk's sleeve, his fingers a lacework of scratches. "Innocent. I am innocent."
"You know what I always say," Kirk said, trying to ease the tension, "Guilty until proven otherwise."
He caught a faint flicker of a smile on the Vulcan's face before he relaxed, letting go and falling back against the pillows. His breathing was shallow for a few moments, until they finally caught, and he faded into oblivion.
