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… … .. . .. … …

Spock spent the night trying to meditate. No matter how deep he looked, he could not find a single reason for Jim's running away. It was frustrating. He was beginning to suspect he would have many sleepless nights meditating on his impetuous captain. It was shortly before the start of his shift when he finally admitted defeat and headed for the bathroom to prepare for the day.

He wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Jim lay curled on his side, head resting on his hand, eyes closed peacefully in sleep. His golden tunic was stained orange, a tattered mess around his nearly still chest. The shards around him reflected gold and red and the cool blue grey of the room in dazzling splendor around his prone form, radiating out from where he lay like stained glass rays of sun and sky. Streams of brilliant red blood weaved through the closest shards, painting the ground. Jim's back was a canvas of bloody valleys and glass peaks.

Spock's heart stopped.

Blindly, he stepped into the bathroom, bare feat a tender victim of the shattered mirror, oblivious to the pain. Kneeling, he placed his hand at Jim's pulse, the strong throat still beneath his fingers. A faint beat pulsed shallowly there, dim, waning as though there were simply no reason to keep trying so hard.

… .. .

"What the hell is going on?" McCoy hollered, accepting the scrubs he was handed by a nurse, eyes darting around furiously for Chapel.

"Leonard!" She called over her the shoulder of a worry stuck doctor.

He raced over, eyes widening at the red blood streaked across her clothes. "What happened? I was told someone was bleeding out."

"It's Kirk." She whispered fervently, pushing him into the medical room.

Jim lay on his stomach on the bed, an IV in his arm providing the drugs to keep him under. Two doctors were carefully removing the shards of glass from his back. He was horrified to find the man in a state comparable to shredded beef. Seated in a corner of the room, having violently dismissed the nurse attempting to tend to him, was a rather stricken Vulcan, gazing palely at the other man, dripping green blood on the otherwise clean floor.

Bones would worry about him later.

"Is that a chunk of mirror?" McCoy asked, aghast. "Okay, Chapel. Get me saline. We need to wash these out. It's safest to do that before we use anything more advanced. I need rubbing alcohol too. Jim's allergic to tetanus shots. And I want a slow stitching dermal regenerator. I'll need some hypos for the inflammation and a broad spectrum antibiotic."

At his orders, everyone jumped into motion.

He spared a sideways glance for Spock, who looked catatonic. Later. He'd grill him later, once Jim was no longer in danger. Once he was sure his friend wouldn't die in his sickbay. A thought occurred to him as he looked back to Jim.

"Someone get Scotty in my sickbay!"

It hadn't taken long for the asked for engineer to arrive. Chapel directed him to sit down in a corner. Seeing the blood on her clothes, he agreed. Something was not right. Another nurse stopped by briefly to give him his vaccinations and disappeared again. Close to ten minutes later, McCoy was marching angrily through Sickbay when he spotted him.

"You!" He snarled, mostly from frustration. "You've had your shots? Of course you have. You're Captain today."

"Wha's goin' on laddy?" Scotty frowned standing to follow the doctor.

"Jim's gone and gotten hurt. That blasted Vulcan won't get medical attention until he's sure Jim's alright. Get up on the bridge and don't tell anyone."

"God." Scotty whispered in horror. "I just saw the lads last night. They were fine. What happened?"

McCoy faltered a moment, this new information sparking off something in his mind. "I'll fill you in later, please. Get. On. The. Bridge. If you're pressed, just say I ordered a recuperation day for them."

"Aye. I understand. Go help our Cap'n." Scotty very nearly clapped him on the shoulder, but decided against it when he considered the red coating his clothes.

Bones gave him a drawn smile, returning to his search for the materials he still needed.

… .. .

Scotty was already on the bridge, seated in the Captain's chair when the rest of the main crew filtered in. The air was heavy, a implacable silence hovering over his presence. Everyone waited patiently in their seats, dreading the knowledge they would receive if they simply asked about their two commander's whereabouts. Scotty stood slowly, glancing around.

"Our favorite comm'ndrs have been ordered ta recuperate for a day by our CMO. Ye'll have ta deal with me for the day I'm afraid. I am sorry about that." He offered easily, as though he was asked to take over everyday.

"Vhy are they being ordered to rest?"

"McCoy doesn't want Kirk to be putting more stress on himself while he's still sick, I think."

"Then why would he order Commander Spock to take the day off too?" Sulu frowned at him.

"Barmy if I know. I suspect he thinks our commander is putting too much stress on himself lately." Scotty shrugged, sitting back down.

Uhura scowled. "That a bad idea. He should have had them take separate days off."

"I'm not him!" Scotty said defensively. "I don't know what is goin' on."

"You just said they were ordered to take the day off." Sulu reminded.

"Aye…I did." Scotty shuffled a bit, frowning. "Look, my job is engineering. I have no desire to be a cap'n. So how should I know? Maybe he wants to lock them in a room and make them get over their issues?"

"No. I don't think that's it at all." Uhura fixed him with a serious look. "What is it you aren't telling us?"

"Nothing!"

"Vhere is the Keptin und Kommander? They are in Sickbay, da? Vhy?" Even Chekov had gotten in on the suspicious looks.

"Uh." Scotty's eyes were wide. "Ye have work to do."

"That doesn't work for Kirk it won't work for you." Uhura reminded coolly, crossing her legs with a look of smug satisfaction.

"I just know I was told to tell ye they had been ordered to have a day of relaxation." Scotty insisted.

It was mostly accurate anyway.

"We should call down to Sickbay." Sulu said decisively.

"No!" Scotty leapt to his feet, looking worried. "Ye can't."

"Spill." Uhura ordered.

"I…ye are a tough lot. No wonder the Cap'n can'naught keep anything from ye." Scotty sighed, plopping back down and crossing his arms. "I know there was an incident. Ah don't know what 'appened. Last I've heard, our Cap'n isn't well and our Comm'nder is keeping an eye on him."

"Vhat are you meaning isn't vell?"

Scotty closed his eyes, resigning himself to the CMO's wrath. "There was a lot of blood."

"Oh god." Uhura gasped, hands flying to her mouth.

Chekov managed to look even paler then usual, blood draining from his face. Sulu was very still, breathing shallowly, eyes wide.

"Now ye see why ah wasn't to tell ye?" Scotty growled. "Ye don't have to worry. McCoy can handle it."

"How?" Sulu asked slowly.

"I don't know."

"Okay." Sulu said softly, and then with more conviction. "Okay. You're right. We have work. It doesn't matter."

"Good lad." Scotty hesitated, then settled himself in. "Report."

"Traveling at Warp 5. There are no obstructions…"

… .. .

Bones sat down next to the chiseled sculpture of a man who, until a few minutes ago, had been bleeding all over the place. He didn't flinch at the other's presence, or even bat an eyelid in acknowledgment of his existence. The solemn doctor pressed a warm cup of tea into his hands, startling an instinctual curl out of his fingers. He nodded decisively, pleased at least with that result.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" No reaction. "Chapel says you rushed in here, bleeding all over the place with Jim unconscious in your arms."

Spock twitched, eyes falling to the tea in his hands, but seeing only the memory of the man he had carried in them.

McCoy sighed. "How did he get like that Spock? Do you know when he smashed the mirror?"

Spock jolted, blank brown eyes gazing at him, as if they were trying to understand. "I…I do not."

"It's okay." McCoy sighed, scrubbing at his face. "Shit. This is typical Jim. Just never this fast."

"I…found him." Spock stated, as though it were not the most obvious thing in space. "He was laying in the shards, sleeping. I do not…understand."

"This is all Jim." McCoy told him gently, sighing. "He has no one else to blame. I've just never seen it this fast…"

"Explain." Spock looked pleadingly at him, too distraught to hide his emotions.

The volatile doctor sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. Slowly, with care to the other man's injuries, he lead him to his office, locking the door behind him. He poured himself a glass of brandy and took a long sip, earning a careful, absentminded eyebrow at his actions.

"This here, what Jim did, officially places you within the secrets circle. I'm not sharing this with some stranger. If I tell you, you have to promise you'll keep trying."

"Trying?"

"To be his friend."

"Of course." Spock whispered, though McCoy couldn't tell if that was an agreement or if he was saying he should have known that was what he was saying.

McCoy decided to plow on. "When we were becoming friends…Jim did this too. He…Okay. I have to start at the beginning. It started a couple of months after the…uh…alcohol poisoning incident. We were roommates, but we weren't friends. Jim…came on to me. It took me a bit to recognize the signs, but eventually Jim told me what he told you…I got the full story out of him."

Spock's eyes widened a bit, but McCoy shook his head, glowering.

"You still have to go to him for that. The point is, we started trying to get past that incident and form a proper friendship. One night, several months later, Jim cooked me a homemade meal, thanking me for trying so hard to put up with him I think. I guess he freaked out though…assumed I thought he was trying the same stunt as before. The next day, he blew up a science experiment."

Spock's spine snapped straight at that. "I was informed the circumstances leading to that incident were unforeseeable."

"Maybe for everyone else involved." McCoy sighed, not bothering to ask how he heard about it. "But this is Jim. He thinks at least seven steps ahead of everyone else. Synthehol doesn't explode like that when it's overheated. Jim added something to it intentionally. He told me himself."

"Why would he do such a dangerous thing?" Spock chilled.

"It his damn destructive tendencies. If he hadn't had that reaction, he'd have been standing right next to it when it went up. He knew what that Tellarite was working on and he knew the guys girlfriend would be there and would flirt with him and he knew everyone would follow. He had it all planned out. He'd planned to just barely get away."

"He knew I would find him before he bled out?" A faint frown twitched at his lips.

"Probably." Bones admitted. "He destroys things. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the first time…with me, either. There's a story he told me once…he might not have even realized it was related himself, but I think it was."

"Why would he become destructive?"

"I'm not really sure. Anger, I suppose. Anger at himself, at what he assumes is yet another failure on his part when he finally started making progress. Anger at 'breaking' a friendship."

"He did nothing wrong." Spock held in his sigh, but allowed a touch of resignation and exhaustion to color his voice.

He really was becoming tired of dealing with such wild and unruly emotions. It seemed they were even harder to understand when they felt so far away.

"So will you tell me what exactly happened? Last I heard from Jim, he was inviting you to lunch and that had apparently not ended in disaster." McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, fixing him with the best look he could: a deliberate and measured stare somewhere between doctor, best friend, and father.

Spock felt the stiffness rising in his shoulders. "We had a discussion over dinner in Jim's room and played chess for a period of time. When we discovered out mutual dislike of the game, we sought another way to relax. At Jim's behest, we…explored the ship for sometime, eventually stopping for the night in the gym. I reluctantly agreed to a sparring match."

"I'm going to kill him. He's on restricted exercise." McCoy added testily, rolling his eyes.

"I was unaware." Spock replied impatiently, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted. "It was a short match. We…discussed the similar aspects of our childhood…specifically the tendency for us to become embroiled in fights. I…offered him a hand in comfort and he suggested we retire for the night…he wrapped his arms around my torso…and ran away when he released me."

"Shit." Bones sighed, rubbing his face. "How do you guys always manage to go full tilt? I never thought you two would reconcile so fast…If I'd known…I wouldn't have left him alone…I'd have warned you. Something. I should have done something."

"You could not predict his actions." Spock told him calmly, finally taking a sip of his now freezing tea.

Bones took another slow sip of his brandy. "I should have. Jim wouldn't be lying in there half dead if I just knew."

"Doctor." Spock set his tea down forcefully, eyes black ice. "Do not presume you are the only one to hold guilt. Of all people, I should have taken into consideration Jim's behavior and at the very least alerted you immediately. I was merely one room away from him and I let him suffer the entire night."

McCoy's eyes widened as he finally recognized the remorse in the other man. With a grimace, he poured the Vulcan a glass of brandy and pushed it across the desk.

"Alcohol may not do anything for you, but it's traditional when Jim does something reckless." Bones explained, returning to nursing his drink.

Spock raised an eyebrow and politely accepted the drink, taking a small, disinterested sip. It burned at his throat, an entirely unpleasant sensation that seemed all too appropriate to associate with the ever present, ever troublesome man known as James T. Kirk. He murmured as much, earning a hearty laugh and a knowing look.

It was frustrating, as he could never quite discover what everyone seemed to know when they gave him that look.

… .. .

Jim moaned, grumbling a little at the rough cotton scratching at his stubble. His first thought involved the desperate need to shave. His second thought was wondering why he was sleeping on his stomach, promptly followed by a half formed thought wondering why he was in Sickbay. That was more than enough to jumpstart his memory and remind him of the rather poor choice he made. Well crap.

Apparently Spock had found him.

He attempted to push himself up, and found himself hampered by the presence of a rather large, automated dermal regenerator.

"We've had that thing on you all day." McCoy informed him, crouching down near the head of the bed, holding a glass with a straw in it. "Drink up."

Jim did as he was told, hoping it would slightly lessen the verbal lashing he was going to receive. When he was content that McCoy would believe he had had enough, he spit the straw back out and smiled weakly at him. McCoy narrowed his eyes at the smile, scowling.

"Well?" He said expectantly.

"Well what?" Jim drew his brow together in consternation, effectively confused.

"Aren't you going to ask how Spock's doing?" He replied seriously.

Jim's eyes widened and his voice raised an octave. "Spock's hurt? Where is he? What happened?"

"Oh…he's better." McCoy answered cryptically. "The glass was buried pretty deep though. And the damn stubborn bastard wouldn't let anyone help him until you'd been dealt with."

"What? How?" Jim gaped, worry flooding his eyes. "I…how did he get shards of the mirror…what happened? Is he alright?"

Bones sighed, taking pity on the man. "He's fine. He didn't have his boots on when he entered the bathroom to pick you up. He got glass in his knee and his hands too. It wasn't too hard, but the fact that he just wouldn't let anyone treat it was a big problem."

"Oh my God Bones…What have I done?" His voice trembled with horror.

"I suspect a cohesive list would be far beyond the human capacity to remember." A rather familiar, deep voice sounded somewhere to his back.

Jim squeaked, attempting to turn his head to see him. "Spock! I'm so sorry."

"I believe I instructed you to no longer apologize to me." Spock came around to the front of the bed, kneeling next to McCoy to meet Jim's eyes.

Jim was overwhelmed by the relief he saw there, and let his head fall back to the bed with a soft chuckle. "I'm a dipshit."

"Yes Jim. You are." McCoy informed him cheerfully. "Now sit still. I was about to take this thing off and have a look at your back."

"Oh." Jim nodded. "So are you mad at me?"

"To whom were you directing that comment?" Spock raised back to his feet.

"Mph." Jim turned his head to watch the movement. "Who ever would answer?"

"I am not angered, simply displeased. You had no reason to run from me."

Jim blushed a bit. "Sor…er…okay. I guess I panicked. How long was I unconscious?"

"The entire day." McCoy offered helpfully, placing a very cold hand on Jim's bare back. "And I am mad at you. What was that I'm cured bull you tried to feed me? Can I trust you not to make an complete fool of yourself when our guests get here tomorrow morning, or am I going to have to make sure you don't go anywhere but the bridge, your room, and Sickbay?"

Jim huffed, frowning. "I think I can handle it. And hey, I've got Spock if I have any trouble, right?"

That little question on the end was enough to still both of the other men in the room. It wasn't a self-assured question, asking for the answer it already knew. It was timid, reaching, fishing for what it hoped would be the answer. Spock didn't have to question the answer like he did though.

"Affirmative, Captain…Jim."

"Okay already." Bones said in exasperation. "That's enough. You can leave now you cold-blooded hobgoblin."

"Doctor my blood is-"

"Don't care. Go get a good nights sleep. I'm keeping Jim for the night, you can have him back in the morning in time for all those scientists to look at him like they'd love to be as far away from him as possible." McCoy informed him gleefully. "So scram."

He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, but inclined his head in agreement. "Good night."

"Night Spock!" Jim called after him.

"…"

"…What?"

"Nothing Jim. Nothing." McCoy sighed. "Get some rest."

… .. .

"I'm fine." Jim insisted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Seriously. Bones cleared me for duty and everything."

"Yeah." Sulu agreed. "But what happened?"

"I thought Scotty wasn't supposed to tell you guys anything." Jim groaned, casting a look at the science station, and Spock.

"Someone in maintenance said your room was a mess and that there was blood all over your bathroom." Uhura informed him casually.

"Can I keep nothing secret on this ship?" Jim asked incredulously. "It wasn't that big a deal."

"You vere in Sickbay for entire day! Iz big deal."

"I believe the relevant Terran phrase is 'It is none of your business.'" Spock said pointedly, fixing them all with a stony look.

Jim cast him a grateful glance. "Exactly. And on that note, work."

"That won't-"

"Stop you from getting the story from one of the nurses. Yeah. Sure. Shame they don't even know the whole story." Jim winked, knowing he had effectively put the idea in her head. "Doesn't matter though. We really do have work to do. Now, do I have to use my captain's voice to get you to do it?"

"No Sir." They responded in chorus, only slightly exasperated.

"Sweet! You do respect me." Jim grinned. "Okay Chekov, where are we?"

"Ve are thirty minutes from Wulcan colony."

"Okay. Good. Sulu, you handpicked the transport pilots, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Bridge to security." Jim cast a curious glance at Uhura, who rolled her eyes at him.

Eventually he was going to remember what deck that was on.

"What do you need Captain?" Giotto's cheeky voice filtered through.

"Oh I don't know, my best security in the shuttle bay would be nice. We only have to herd all of our guests through to Sickbay, and then get them to their rooms. You guys did get the room arrangements Uhura wrote up, right?"

"Oh, we got it all. We're ready. I've enlisted the aid of the ships many yeomen to get everyone's things where they belong. And we've got nurses to help us with directing them through Sickbay."

"Sounds good. I'll be down there in a bit once we get underway here. Keep me clued in if anything seems off. It has been way too quiet out here. Peaceful doesn't sit well with me." Jim grimaced, glancing around at the all too agreeing looks he received. "Kirk out."

"Captain?" Sulu looked over at him with a nervous grin. "Want me to take the Conn. while you and Mr. Spock go down to greet our guests?"

"You know, I can take care of myself. I don't need Spock to constantly keep an eye on me." Jim said indignantly, pouting.

"That course of action would be greatly appreciated, Lieutenant." Spock added as an afterthought, earning a laugh from most of the bridge crew.

"See?" Jim snapped playfully. "There you go undermining my authority again."

"I disagree, Captain. I was simply expediting the process, as I would no doubt have to hand over the Conn. to Lieutenant Sulu sometime after you already had differed command to me." He was a serious as ever, which only made it worse.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you didn't trust me to stay out of trouble."

"You have a proclivity towards discord. It would be far safer if it were assumed you would find trouble."

"Hey now." Jim couldn't quiet manage a scowl, too pleased to actually be upset. "So far every time I've gotten in trouble, you've been there."

"I find that unlikely." Spock quirked an eyebrow. "You have been prone to trouble long before we met and have, further more, become embroiled in numerous problems without my presence."

"Sometimes I hate you." He grinned. "And then I remember just how great it is to have you around."

Spock's ears darkened a shade, but he made no other sign of being embarrassed. Both managed to miss the exasperated look on Sulu's face. Uhura did not. Nor did she miss the exchange, drawing her own conclusions. But…there was no way, right? And yet she watched the easy way Kirk gravitated towards him, unconsciously placing himself with him. And she watched the oblivious way Spock allowed it, shifting so that their bodies were in tandem, every motion a perfect opposite in exact time.

Did they even realized they looked like two people who'd been walking together their entire lives?

She continued to watch as they made their way off of the bridge. When she turned back, she caught Sulu's eyes. He nearly panicked when he realized she knew. She nearly panicked when she realized she wasn't imagining things. Their tense moment was broken when Chekov began asking what was going on.

"I'll tell you when your older." Sulu insisted.

"I'm never telling him." Uhura said pointedly, managing to look a bit pale.

"Vhy not? Vhat is happening?"

"Well…" Sulu grinned cheekily, trying not to look a little terrified. "There's something there."

"Vhat? Vhat iz there? Vhat are you talking about?" Chekov pouted, utterly frustrated at receiving absolutely no answer.

… .. .

They were in the empty hall, just a few feet from the shuttle bay, when Jim froze up. On instinct, his hand flew out, catching that of the man beside him. Spock straightened, nearly tripping as he came to an abrupt stop. He turned in surprise, and saw the momentary horror laying below Jim's eyes. Terror flashed through the connection of their palm. A terror at meeting Vulcans.

For the second time in an almost too short period, Spock squeezed his hand, though he was conscious of his actions that time.

Jim shuddered, and cast him a grateful, embarrassed look. "Sor…er…um…I'm not meaning to be intrusive…really."

"You are fine, Jim. Humans seek comfort in physical gestures." As if to illustrate, Spock squeezed his hand just a touch tighter.

If he was smug about getting Jim to trip every time he went to apologize, he wasn't showing it. His comforting words seemed to have the exact opposite effect of what he was expecting. Jim yanked his hand back to his side and darted his eyes away.

"Well…"Jim's voice came out a little strained. "I wouldn't want to burden you with my emotions."

Spock opened his mouth to tell him it was no burden, and found he could not voice that opinion. He didn't find it a burden. If anything, it seemed a weight from his chest. Something tangible in a chaotically ethereal world of emotions. He didn't wish to distance himself from the feelings racing through his touch. He wanted to hold them, intangible or no, tight against him, to feel those evocative emotions seeping into his skin and washing him in their depths.

His response was simply: "My shields are sufficient."

They were more than capable of blocking other's emotions. In all truth, they were doing so continuously. They were sufficient enough, though, to admit what he would not. And his barriers permitted Jim's emotions to slide over him, though he would never divulge he approved of their admission.

He had not only acclimated himself to the other's presence, physically and mentally, but was now welcoming it with well hidden open arms.

"Aren't they always?" Jim laughed, only a touch of resignation in his voice.

"Obviously not." Spock lifted an eyebrow, daring him to recall the many recent times that had been a problem for him.

"You know…I've been told I'm shameless." Jim looked up into his eyes. "I…I've never had this. This much to lose."

Spock stiffened, stepping closer even as he did. "What do you fear you will lose?"

"Nothing. I'm not the kind of guy who is insecure." Jim said defiantly.

"Indeed." Spock furrowed his brow, unsure why Jim chose this topic. "Then…I do not understand your topic of discussion."

"I just…" Jim sighed, carding his fingers through his hair. "I want to get this right. I want to get everything right."

Spock inclined his head, finally understanding. "You can do nothing wrong."

Jim pouted. "Bullshit. I do things wrong all the time."

"Then I will prevent you from doing so." Spock told him simply. "I too have much to lose, Jim."

"What?"

"Y-"

"What the hell are you two doing standing out here?" McCoy snapped, cutting Spock off. "We're at the planet now and you need to get your asses in there."

Jim didn't glower, but he came close. "Fine."

Spock's heart was racing. What had he almost said? It was the ship that would suffer a tremendous loss if Jim were to leave them. The ship. He must have meant as a member of the crew. He told himself this repeatedly, following after the two men as they entered the shuttle bay. Because there was no logical reason for the things he said. Nothing more than comfort.

He was simply trying to comfort Jim. That was the sole reason for his illogical, untruthful statements.

… … .. . .. … …

Hoo boy. Call backs, call outs, and a little crazy.

It really is an emotional rollercoaster.

I did Scotty no justice as captain. I'm sorry for that. He's one of my favorites, but I've got no handle on him.