"Doctor?"
"Mmm?"
"Doctor, the alarm is about to go off."
"Mmm."
"I thought you'd like to wake up before it went off this time? So Doe stays calm?"
"Mmhmm. Right." His mind drifted for a long moment. Trying to reclaim the figment of dream. Something about elephants and tricycles. "Good idea. Help me up."
Cool hands gripped his own and tugged him upright. His lips smacked together reflexively.
Cold glass touched his palm. McCoy cracked one eye open and warily watched the water slosh back and forth.
"What'sish?"
"I'd think you'd recognize it. In Standard, it is called Water. A clear fluid, comprised of one part hydrogen to two parts oxygen. A necessary element for life for most humanoids in our databanks."
Of course it would be Spock.
McCoy sighed and drank down the water.
Nurse Chapel came back in with another glass.
"Oh! I didn't realize you came in Commander. I was just-"
"The Captain requested a personal report. I just arrived."
"Please, for the love of all that's good in the universe, tell me you were the one who was whispering sweet nothing in my ear to wake me up, Nurse? Otherwise I'm going to have to gouge out my earballs."
"'Earballs,' Doctor?"
"Eye balls. Ear drums. Whatever, Spock."
"Yes, sir, I was the one who was trying to wake you up. I thought maybe a glass of water? With a couple sodium bicarb tabs?"
"Yes, please."
He traded the empty glass for Chapel's fizzy one. He had to pinch his nose to get the whole thing down in one shot, but the knowledge that the acetylsalicylic acid would took take care of the headache helped immensely.
He glanced over at the clock. Five minutes.
"Join me in scrubs, Commander. You'll be of more help in that blasted tent than these... sorry Nurse."
"Quite alright."
Spock moved with the same mechanical precision he did, just enough effort and no more to complete the task. Too bad for McCoy it wasn't because the First Officer was also this close to throwing up all over the floor.
"I assume you imbibed too much with the Captain last night?"
"Mmm. Why do you ask?"
"Captain Kirk was also late to duty, and appeared..."
"'Green about the gills,' Mr. Spock?"
"Not my preferred descriptor, Doctor, but an apt one, considering."
They slipped on protective covers and went in to see Doe.
"Good morning," McCoy said with more cheer than he felt. His patient twitched towards his voice, the single hand reaching for the gauze. "Here, let me get that for you. There now. A little saline and we'll be just about in time for-" The bell rang behind him. "Our morning rotation."
Mr. Spock stood motionless beside him as he began his morning routine. It took him a good five minutes to realize that his patient and the Vulcan were in a deadlock staring contest.
"Doe's going to win, just to warn ya."
"Win what, precisely, Doctor McCoy?"
"That staring contest. No eyelids you know. Nurse Chapel, how are those coming, by the way?"
He heard Chapel shuffling around behind him.
"They've just about finished growing, sir. Should be ready within another few hours."
"Good, good. There hasn't been any continual radiation symptoms in that area. And the eyelids are as good a place as any to start with."
"I agree. A small surface area, minimal contact would suggest minimal chance of infection."
McCoy couldn't help but smile. Just a little.
"Thank you for your medical second opinion, Mr. Spock."
He tucked the glass lid back in place and felt a familiar touch to his hand.
Doe tapped him, then the PADD, and pointed at Mr. Spock.
"Ah, yes, I am remiss. Let me."
Spock gave him his usual lifted eyebrow, just as McCoy snagged a picture.
"Doctor?"
"Well you assisted rigging this PADD up, you might as well be added to the databank. Commander Spock, First Officer," McCoy told the computer cheerfully.
"Commander Spock, First Officer," the PADD repeated.
"Uhura had set it up for Doe to take the pictures, but that last surgery..." He sighed, handing the PADD back.
"Of course, Doctor. It is difficult to lift a PADD, and make use of the in-frame camera, with one hand and no opposable thumbs."
"Commander Spock, First Officer. Children. Fire. Thank you."
Spock nodded a bit towards their patient.
"Not going to say 'You're welcome'?"
"I believe the words would be wasted, Doctor. I do not know what pictographs to select to transmit such a concept."
Don't let the eyes roll, McCoy. It'll just be a point on his scoreboard.
"Oh course, Mr. Spock, of course. Let me get on to the morning scans, so that you can give Jim your report."
Spock stood by, his hands clasped behind him as usual while McCoy puttered about doing his work.
"You know," McCoy grumbled, after dodging around the Vulcan for the third time. "You could wait outside. Or, hell, I could deliver the flipping PADD once I'm done!"
"The Captain assumed that you would be too engrossed in your work to accommodate. Considering the extensive injuries, I can understand his apprehension."
"Gee, and here I was hoping Jim would invite me for another night drinking and partying."
He felt that pause.
"If you would prefer, I can inform-"
McCoy held up a hand. "Not on your life, you green blooded hobgoblin. That kid can outdrink even me, and that's saying something. Here, take the tricorder a moment, would ya? I want to check flexibility in these joints. Keep recording tensile strength while I apply force, would you?"
The strength in Doe's legs, and thus testing the remaining musculature, sat so far down the priority list that McCoy barely noted it in his logs.
Every day he catalogued every metric he could. A little stronger? A little weaker? How's blood-oxygen saturation? Fluid retention? Organ function, hormone levels...
"Doctor?"
"Hmm, sorry."
"I said, I would like to offer my assistance, if I can."
"With the translator on the PADD? That would be great. I'm sure Uhura would appreciate the help."
"No, with the facial reconstruction."
That stopped the doctor in his tracks. "You? You're the 'hobby artist' Jim mentioned?"
Spock nodded. "I am not one of the 'hobby artists' Jim intended. But I can take a hard-tissue scan and print out a mold of... Doe's skull. I spent a few hours last night researching the skill. It is as much research, measurement, and carefully applied technique as it is an art form. Finding an artist practiced in such an archaic skill will be chancy at best, and at worst it will take several weeks for someone to travel from Earth, or one of the colonies, to the ship to offer these services.
"I propose that we scan and print perhaps several duplicates of the skull itself, do several reconstructions with the best information that we can assemble, and have your patient indicate which is the most accurate."
"I... Hm. Spock, I believe your idea has merit."
"There is no logical reason to cease searching for someone who has first hand experience, of course. There might be someone in a near-by Starbase who could offer more than textbook understanding of the science."
"Have you talked with Jim about the idea?"
"The Captain was the one to suggest it, Doctor. Apparently from a suggestion from... Ambassador Selek."
"Selek? Of course he'd be the first one to get back to me from all my subspace messages. Ah, now that's a good man. Tells a hellofa good joke too. I'll have to pick Jim's brain about what Selek said... once we're done here. He only mentioned that they'd done their usual monthly call. I didn't ask what it was about... or I don't remember asking. I'll bet ya a quarter he's come up with some good ideas. Why Spock, now you're the one who looks 'green around the gills.'"
"Shall I prepare the imaging scanner for Doe?"
"Yes yes. The more time you have with it and all. I'm sure you have plenty of other duties to preform as well."
"Quite."
McCoy stood on the opposite side of Doe while Spock did the scans. With a precise hand he charted each measurement as the Vulcan requested them, noting estimates of tissue depth where he couldn't take accurate ones.
"Estimates won't do, Doctor."
"I'm doing my best, Spock. I'm a doctor, not a reverse engineering geneticist. The best I can do is mark areas I know are accurate and inaccurate, along with stating what I remember cutting off at the time."
"What you cut off does not necessarily describe what was there previously. I distinctly remember the sight of burnt skin and fat as well. By the time you were removing muscle, your estimates would be drastically different than what had been there before Doe's tissue underwent such extreme alteration."
"And any hair, or feathers, or scales, had been removed too," McCoy added glumly. "You know, I'm almost happier that you're doing this. A human would be too effected by... by what's left to focus properly on the details."
"It would be difficult to not be effected by the trauma that Doe has experienced."
McCoy looked up at Spock. Still the same passive face, focused eyes, and confident hands as ever. But... hell, that almost sounded like emotion hinting through that veneer.
"I believe I have finished my scans, Doctor McCoy. I will go to engineering to begin synthesis."
"Sounds good, Mr. Spock. Let me know if you need any further data."
With a final nod to both doctor and patient, Spock left without further word.
"Well, now that stuffy, uptight, no good greenblooded-"
"I am still within earshot, Doctor."
"Hobgoblin has left, let's take a look for any additional radiation burns."
Nothing else'd cropped up while he was passed out drunk. Thank goodness for small miracles.
"Hey Chapel? Did I hear your right, that the eyelids are almost ready?"
"Make that completely ready sir."
"Go ahead and call the surgical team up. It's time to start fixing things."
