Selena's POV

I lay awake on the coach, not even bothering to feign sleep. Even when I closed my eyes, all I could see was Sulu's knowing gaze.

Five days in and I had already made a mistake. A truly stupid, emotional, impulsive, and human mistake. A mistake a true Vulcan would never have made.

It was easy to fall back on old insecurities and judgements and berate myself for not being more Vulcan. Maybe if I had just for once listened to logic, rather than being ruled by emotion, I wouldn't be in this position.

The peace and serenity that meditation had allowed me vanished in the face of this new fear and worry. Even the serenity and comfort of the office could not overcome my anxiety.

Sulu knew. Or at least, he had some inkling that not everything was as it appeared or that I wasn't what I appeared.

I realized now that I didn't know if Spock had ever told them about me. I wonder how he'd even go about telling them about the sister whom he had cared for and protected, loved and comforted, raised and cherished. The sister who had turned her back on everything he had given her, done for her, and thanked him by pushed him away.

Part of me—most likely the human side—thought of escaping before the questioning would begin. Running away and hiding was something I excelled at. Perhaps, the only thing I was truly good for, I thought bitterly, after all is that not what these last years spent avoiding Spock have been about? However, the Vulcan in me harshly criticized the tactic, calculating only a 6.31% chance of successfully managing to acquisition a shuttle and fly it undetected to the nearest Star Base.

Everything was falling apart for sooner than I had anticipated and thought I was closer to Spock, proximity wise, than I have been in years, it wasn't as close as I wished to be. The part of me that will always be his little sister was glad the Sulu had caught me, if only to give me the excuse of throwing caution in the wind and burying myself in Spock's arms to seek comfort. I wanted him to hold me as he had done when we were children and tell me that my fears were illogical and impossible, I wanted him to tell me that everything was going to be alright and that he still loved me.

But alone in the darkness of the office, with the crew asleep beyond the doorway, there was nothing to assuage my fears.

There was nothing left to do but wait. Wait for them to wake and for Sulu to tell them what he had witnessed.

I could imagine it already: Spock's look of betrayal, Kirk's cold dismissal, and McCoy's rage. They would probably drop me off at the nearest Star base, eager to get rid of the girl that had hurt one of their own. Spock had a new family to look out for him now and I no longer had the guarantee of being considered a part of it.

If I couldn't even keep myself hidden and secret for 5 days, how could I ever have expected to go unnoticed aboard the Enterprise for 5 years.

The room felt quiet and empty. There was none of the snoring and sleepy mumbles that typically marked Sickbay. Though I knew logically that the room temperature was stable and did not fluctuate unless purposely changed, it air felt colder and crisp. Even tucked underneath my blanket, the chill still managed to invade my cocoon and seep beneath my skin.

When sleep did come, it came only in short segments as I slept and woke intermittently, each time feeling somehow more tired and exhausted than when I'd first lay down to sleep.

There was nothing to do but stare up into the darkness and listen. If I strained my sense hard enough, I could just make out the sound of muffled snoring creeping through the cracks under the doorway. It was an odd sort of comfort to be able to pick out the sound McCoy's snores out in Sickbay. It was odder still that it lulled me to sleep. I had never been so thankful for being Vulcan, if only for my enhanced senses, as I was in that instant.

…

I hazily woke and lingered in consciousness somewhere in between being wide-awake and dozing. I tried to latch onto the familiar sound of McCoy's snores to lull myself back to sleep.

An uneasy restlessness of dreams and memories half-remembered plagued my thoughts and unconsciousness. I dreamt of shuttles and stars and half-honest conversation. It was painful memories, better left untouched and unremembered. Even in sleep, the pain and guilt was sharp.

…

McCoy's POV:

I woke restless and jumpy.

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I scanned Sickbay for whatever or whoever had dared to wake me. Everything seemed normal for the bridge crew's typical night spent in the Sickbay. This was worryingly becoming increasingly frequent and made me suspicious as to whether they were purposely being careless just for an excuse to have an Enterprise version of a slumber party.

I didn't let myself linger too long on the thought that everyone looked so contented and peaceful. It was as if these far to frequent respites in the Sickbay were the only true rest they got. Where had the natural and perfectly reasonable fear of doctors and hospitals gone? It was a perfectly health fear in small doses when it deterred injury but didn't deter injured ensigns from seeking treatment.

Sulu and Spock were knocked out on the bed, vitals thankfully steady. Though I'd never admit it to either of them, traveling on board a hunk of metal that everyone called a "starship" was almost made bearable knowing the Sulu was at the helm and Spock was on the bridge to keep Jim from starting another intergalactic incident or accidently exploding the Enterprise.

There was Scotty, mumbling away about space travel and equations. His snores were the only thing that proved he was actually asleep and not just talking to himself. Somehow, Uhura managed to sleep peacefully at his side, as if those equations were actually a lullaby to her in her sleep. Chekov and Kirk had all but collapsed on the sides of the biobeds. Considering who was on each bed, it was nothing particularly surprising about it.

Nothing stood out as to what had woken me, but it felt like something had. Like a machine that sounds an alert when patients woke or needed assistance. Something had called to me and left me feeling as if I had something to do or some unfinished business to follow through on.

As I made to unwrap myself from my blanket, I realized that I never recalled having laid it out on myself. Neither did I remember going back to the office to grab another pillow. But, wow, what a difference did it make for my back. I was too damn old to be lounging around in these chairs to babysit these infants. But maybe I'd last a couple more years if they kept up this treatment. Or at least, if Gray kept up this treatment, because I had definitely been the last to sleep and with the PADDs gone and the pillow from the office coming to rescue my back, it could have been no one else but her.

So Gray had come back after all then.

A reluctant smile pulled at my lips.

I felt ridiculous for being so absurdly pleased. I'd all but forced her to come back after all. But how could I not, after she'd looked at me so wounded and lost when I'd told her to leave. She'd all but shrunk into herself, somehow looking even more fragile than usual.

I'd fallen asleep before she'd made it back—not that I'd been waiting up, of course—and couldn't remember waking as she maneuvered the pillows and me in to position. There was something there though, something playing on the edge of my consciousness that I couldn't recall. I didn't know what to make of it was and was too sleep deprived to be bothered.

I made my way into the office, feeling ridiculous for how slowly I opened the door to keep from waking her.

The light was set to 10% as she slept and was just bright enough to make out her form, curled up restlessly on the couch. There was a familiar tension and fatigue that lined and shadowed her face. The weight that she carried through the day seem just as heavy by night and I couldn't make sense of it. It bothered me though that even in her sleep, she looked more tired and worried and drawn than rested.

It only renewed my restlessness I'd woken to.

Though the room was by no means chilly, she still lay huddled for warmth beneath the already thick patchwork quilt. She seemed abnormally sensitive to temperature, but from what I had studied on her patient PADDs, there were no irregularities with her thyroid. I settled for doing what I could and grabbed the blanket from my armchair. As I gently tucked it in around her petite form, more careful and meticulous that truly necessary, the restlessness that had chased me from sleep ebbed.

She seemed fragile and breakable. Yet, she'd all but popped right back up after Sulu had landed one on her, which showed more resilience and strength that you'd first assume. Not to mention the way she'd handled Spock demanding to be discharged. Gray didn't even bat an eyelash reminding him exactly who was in charge of him in the Sickbay.

She carried with her the scent of cinnamon and other exotic spices. It reminded of a Saturday morning back home in Gran's kitchen with freshly baked pies cooling on the windowsill. She smelled like home.

As I swept away strands of charcoal black hair that fell across her angular cheekbones, I couldn't help but gently brush my thumb across the smooth cheek. My coarse, hardened skin felt to rough against her delicate skin, but she didn't seem to think so. She turned her face into my touch. Those shadows and lines that marked her face even in sleep, appeared to ease and vanish. As I let myself linger, indulging myself with one more brush across her cheek, I felt a sudden feeling of contentment and peace rush over me. It felt like coming home.

I didn't let myself feel guilty or "stalkerish," as Jim would put it, for pulling my armchair closer to the sofa and its sleeping occupant. There were worries and a loneliness she carried in her sleep that I couldn't heal, no matter how many medical degrees I had. But after saving Sulu and being nothing short of a miracle to work with, the least I could do was give her a blanket when she was cold, brush away irritating strands of hair, and watch over her in her sleep.

…

Selena's POV

He fell asleep, with his armchair pulled close to the sofa, once more.

I probably should have felt guiltier about having unintentionally stole his blanket and just as I probably should have felt embarrassed about nuzzling into his hand, but I couldn't bring myself to feel anything other than contentment and relief.

I would have given him back the blanket, I justified to myself, only McCoy had forgotten to close the office door before he'd dropped off to sleep. Thus, the extra blanket was compensation for his forgetfulness as it was now his fault that a cool breeze was blowing in from Sickbay.

Hearing him sleep without a door and wall between us and surrounded by the renewed smell of sunshine, whiskey, and the warmth of coming home, I admitted to myself that the comfort I found in our office may have more to do with the doctor with whom I shared it that I originally admitted.

The restlessness subsided and I finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

…

McCoy's POV

Click

For all the many supposed virtues of the Enterprise's Command Crew, stealth could not be counted as one of them.

The sound of chairs scrapped across the floor and failed whispering calls registered even before I open my eyes. I didn't need to see them to know that they were crowded in the doorway of the office, doing a striking imitation of five snickering and cooing children.

"…cute…"

Click

"Way to go, Bones."

Voices murmured in agreement, only to be broken up by what sounded like a painful smack.

"Stuff it, Kirk."

Click

"…only 5 days…"

"Moves fast…" Scotty muttered, sounding duly impressed.

Christ, what had the universe come to if these idiots were the ones who had managed to save Earth.

Before I could work up a proper amount of irritation to fuel my pre-coffee rage and actually open my eyes and get up, the familiar click of Uhura's camera going off finally registered.

God dammit!

My eyes snapped open as I glared at the offender in a way what I hoped would convey just how much pain she was in for her next medical visit. Scotty too for that matter, for daring to build her that thing.

Click

Uhura grinned smugly from behind the lens of her camera. No respect for doctors what so ever.

Any pre-caffeinated rant I had been ready to get started on was cut short but the rustle of movement on couch. The entire room fell to a hush.

Huddled beneath two layers of blankets—and still somehow looking as if she were cold—Gray had stayed asleep through all the noise. I couldn't even bring myself to gripe about nurses too tired to wake up for patients, because I already knew that no matter how sleep deprived Gray may be, she'd be up before a patient alert even sounded. It was eerie the way she could just sense when she was needed.

The light spilling in to the office room over the heads of the people crowded in the door way lit up her ebony skin in contrast to the charcoal black of her hair. The hair was mused, with lose strands falling out the braid she always wore. Her eyes moved beneath closed lids indicating REM sleep as she continued on in her dream. She shifted, eyebrows furrowing for a moment as if to wake, then stilled.

No one risked sighed in relief as she settled down again. I scoffed—in the safety of my own head—at their sudden care to be quiet, as if they hadn't just been making a racket.

I glared at Uhura, Scotty, Chekov, and Kirk, daring them to move or breathe or do anything to wake her unless they wanted to be treated with a particularly nasty vaccine and even nastier symptoms.

Chekov at least, had the decency to look sheepish, as he ducked his head and crept away from the door and predictably back to Sulu's side.

Uhura, even with her hair tousled and tangled, falling in waves down her back, looked worryingly thoughtful and devious as she grinned up at me, unabashed and unintimidated, before dragging Scotty away. The Scottish man somehow made his eyebrows do a suggestive/impressed dance, before disappearing out of sight.

I'd make sure they'd remember this moment the next time they land themselves in sickbay. Which would probably be sooner rather than later.

Kirk lingered at the door way. His damn blue eyes twinkled. I'd be hearing about this later.

For the love of all the alcohol and coffee in the world, I was too sober and decaffeinated to be dealing with this right now.

"Wake Gray, would ya Bones?" He called as he turned away, "It's Senior Officer Meeting time."

With one last suggestive wink, he casually strolled back towards where the other were clustered, probably looking over the photos Uhura had taken.

Damn, infants.

I stood up and stretched feeling too damn old to be putting myself through sleeping in an armrest two nights in a row. Yet, as I looked down at Gray, curled beneath her blankets, it did not seem like such a large price to pay.

The trouble air Gray wore around her, still clouded her even in her sleep. My fingers twitched at my side, wanting to smooth out the frown that pulled at her lips as dreamed. Though the dark bags on her eyes no longer looked as severe as they had last night, they detracted from her rested appearance. For all her griping about beauty sleep and rest, she was the one who had run herself ragged doing 3 back to back shifts with only 3 to 4 hours to nap in between. Hypocrite.

I couldn't wake her. Not for a damn Senior Office Meeting. She needed rest, not a damn update report on whatever the hell Scotty was cooking up in engineering or what Spock had managed to explode next. It wouldn't do to have my head nurse falling over from exhaustion just 6 days into a 5-year voyage, I justified to myself, as I closed the office door behind me. Doctor's orders.

First things first though, there were patients to attend to. Sulu was fast asleep, with Chekov keeping vigil at his bedside. The kid was out the woods, metaphorically, and would soon be be out of his biobed and back to fencing and gardening to his heart's desire.

Spock would be out of his biobed too, as soon as he brought himself to wake up. He should have been awake already, what with his "I am half-Vulcan and require less sleep the human" speech which he repeatedly recited. Usually, he was the first awake and already engrossed in whatever recently published scientific article he was reviewing.

"I've never seen him sleep this long before, Bones." Jim said quietly as I approached the Vulcan, "Not outside of a sleeping trance." I scanned him with my tricorder, taking note of the irregularities in the readings for his brain waves. The alpha waves in the readings indicated that he should be in REM, associated with dreaming.

Damn Vulcan biology. Could Vulcan's even dream?

"It's not a healing trance, Jim. He's dreaming." I reassured, quietly.

"He's a touch-telepath who had sustained mental trauma, Jim. He's still in recovery." I didn't like giving this answer and neither did Jim seem to like hearing it. "He hasn't said anything about what happen and knowing how stubborn the hobgoblin is, I'll probably have to hypo it out of him later. For now, though, keeping him here isn't gonna help anything so I'll have Nurse Chapel discharge him when he wakes and sign him off for strictly bed rest. Somethings tell me that this is the type of thing he's gonna wanna deal with by himself and meditate. I'll call him back afterwards to talk."

Jim didn't look too happy about still having his First Officer out of commission but knew better that to argue—at least when it came to someone's safety that wasn't himself. "Chapel?" He queried, that familiar twinkle reappearing "What happen to Gray? Did we lose her already?" He teased. Just this one, I'd let the banter slide, if only to draw his thoughts away from the eerily still First Mate before us.

"I'm letting her rest," I said flatly, "No need to go scaring her away this early on into our expedition."

"Right." Jim replied dryly, "Because the fact you're suddenly delegating responsibilities to someone other than your Head Nurse is totally a professional curtesy and precaution." Those damn blue eyes twinkled, "I can see that, because any woman that can take a hit from Sulu and still managing to save his life, then shoot down Spock's attempt to escape Sickbay afterwards on her third day as fifth day as Head Nurse is totally prone to collapsing under the first signs of sleep deprivation."

"Just for that, you're gonna be the first to get the vaccine after the Senior Officer meeting."

"Bones!" Jim whined, blue eyes wide and wounded as if I'd just told Pike the real reason why there were phaser burns marring nearly almost every corridor wall of the Enterprise

Snickers could be heard from group huddled over that damn camera on the other side of Sulu's bed. The gleam in Uhura's eyes was unsettling as she met my glare undeterred with that damn annoying smirk.

Chekov, meanwhile, seemed more concerned with arguing that "cuteness" was invented in Russia, than focusing on the contents of the picture itself. Huh, looks like the kid did have some instinct towards self-preservation after all.

"Don't worry Jim, Scotty and Uhura will be there to hold your hand for the hypo, since they earned themselves one of the first vaccine appointments, too." That should teach them a lesson.

Seeing Scotty's sputter in horror—"Wha'? But I di'n't do anyt'ing?"—and Uhura finally lose her damn smug, all-knowing grin felt like a victory.

Yup, some days it felt good to be the doctor around here keeping these infants in line.

…

By the time I got back from the Senior Meeting, the photo of Gray and I asleep had been enlarged, printed out, and hung on the wall between our desks in a picture frame.

Damn, infants.

I'd rather get hypoed by every vaccine known to every discovered planet in all the quadrants of the space than admit it out loud, but it was a pretty "cute" picture.

With Selena's hair spilling out over her braid over the edge of the couch, wrapped in blankets from head to toe, she looked completely at home and comfortable with me asleep just a few inches over. Seeing that display of trust captured in a picture as proof from a woman so normally tightly contained and distant had my chest tightening uncomfortably. She looked, for once, completely oblivious to the pack of children hovering just on the other side of the camera that had taken this picture, seeming simply at ease and relaxed in my company.

It looked like we were home, whether it be here on this starship or maybe back in Georgia. It was a lot to take away from a picture, but somehow, we looked like we just fit together and that made her that much more beautiful and precious to me.

I didn't take the picture down.

The smile Gray made when she saw the picture a couple hours later definitely deserved to be captured in a picture forever. It made me wish I'd asked Scotty to build me a camera as well.

Gray didn't take take the picture down either.