Title: Even More Unexpected Developments (3/3)
Series: Insontis II
Characters: bb!Spock, Kirk, various
Word Count: 2400 (this bit)
Rating: K+
Warnings/Spoilers: Lack of real plot, ghastly amounts of fluff, etc. If you're in search of story with depth and substance, this is not the universe you're looking for. *Jedi hand wave*
Summary: In which there is medical explanation, foreshadowing, and Spock is a bratty teenager, not necessarily in that order
A/N: Again, all subject matter here is my personal opinion and explanation for the sake of this storyline, not intended to be taken as die-hard canon, and will have a purpose at the end of this overall story. As always, it is meant to be gen as that's what I see on-screen in TOS, not to mention that would be just Not Okay in this storyline to be otherwise.
"So, is it possible, or am I just bein' an illogical, lesser intelligent species, etc., etc.?"
"That state of being is most definitely the case, Doctor."
"Now look here!"
"But not for reason of your medical conjecture," T'lar continues, totally ignoring the spluttering coming from the other side of the bio-bed. "That, contrarily, is quite sound, and is certainly a facet of this particular scenario which I for one never considered."
Considering that he's more than halfway drugged off his head with a very heavy-duty painkiller and neural inhibitor, the only stop-gap measure McCoy has in his arsenal right now, the captain of the Enterprise is lucky he can even understand Basic Standard currently being spoken half-way across the room from his assigned medical cubicle. This is mitigated no doubt by the fact that halfway through the flurry of discussions Spock had somehow disabled the bio-bed sensors and then squirreled his way onto the bed, wedging himself against the wall unseen by the two physicians in deep discussion across the ward. Kirk has no idea where that blasted flying kitten went, and doesn't really want to know; but Spock doesn't appear concerned at its absence so it must be stashed somewhere safe at least and not crawling around dangerous Sickbay machinery.
"This is a complication," his pint-sized First Officer finally says, with a solemnity that is oddly hilarious to his drugged mind.
"You're telling me. The things I do for you, Spock."
That only seems to deflate the child further. "Indeed."
"Okay, stop looking at me like that, it was a joke. You should be able to tell that much with this thing, right?"
"Doctor McCoy's neural inhibitor appears to be working somewhat; your mind is…muddled."
"…Right. Don't take anything in there at face value, then, please."
"Understood." A faint flicker of amusement. "It is quite remarkable how lucid you remain, under such a heavy dosage."
"Yes, well, I never have been one to play the average." He rubs his forehead wearily. "What the devil are they talking about, my head is spinning just trying to listen."
"Perhaps now is not the time."
"Perhaps you'd better not test my patience much further. It is extensive where you're concerned, but it is not infinite."
"…Indeed."
"I get the fact that this…bond, weakens somewhat, the further away we are, for longer periods of time. And strengthens when we're together; that makes sense. Even if I don't know I'm doing it, I'm putting a strain on it by shutting it off out of ignorance, and you're straining it by drawing on it from your end unintentionally, like any child would."
"I am mildly impressed you were able to understand that much from Doctor McCoy's somewhat rambling conjectures."
"Practice makes perfect, you know."
"True."
"But the rest of it? They lost me there."
"The rest of it, as you say, Captain, appears to be the true source of your increasing discomfort, and the truly dangerous problem, a completely separate issue which I will admit never occurred to me, and apparently neither to Doctor T'lar or McCoy." Spock's eyes are shadowed with either guilt or worry, he can't really tell which. "It is an oversight which should not be excused, given that we are responsible for any and all possibilities and consequences which might arise from the situation."
"That's a ridiculous assignation of blame for a situation no one could have foreseen, and it's also beside the point." He rolls his eyes, leans back on the monstrous pile of pillows Spock had stolen on his trek across the ward. "Besides, don't you have some Vulcan proverb about what's being done is done?"
"…Your verb tenses are atrocious."
"I have an excuse, I am under par-tial se-da-tion."
Spock looks very much like he is considering the human act of facepalming.
"You going to tell me what this Very Bad oversight is, or am I supposed to start guessing?" he asks, one eye on the two physicians still bent over something at the medical computer across the room.
"I…it is an unintentional consequence of the entire Insonti aging process, one which was entirely unforeseen and would not have been of any note were it not for this particular…condition."
"You're still talking in circles. Report, Spock."
A what has to be totally unconscious snap to attention. "Apparently, captain, to put the problem in its simplest terms: I am currently in the process of rapid aging. Due to the fact that I share a mental bond with you, yet you are still grounded in this present timestream, aging at a normal human rate, your mind is trying to reconcile two completely different timestreams, being pulled along by mine as the aging process progresses since you are completely outside the process at this time."
He stares at the child in consternation, processing this fact.
Well that would explain a lot, yes.
"So…ah, that's why Bones was asking me about the memory loss, hallucinations, and so on. Those are all symptoms of time-travel sickness."
"Precisely. While separately, the rapid aging process has no discernable effect on the subject, the fact that in this case the subject is tethered to a stationary outside force, so to speak, is highly dangerous for that force. Doctor McCoy conjectures that I am unaffected; if anything, the bond grows stronger exponentially every time another aging stage is reached."
"Wait, wait – so you're saying…" He shakes his head, wishing his mind were actually clear for this. "Not only is this literally driving me crazy because my mind is trying to live in two different timestreams simultaneously, but in addition to that - by the time you're, well, you again, it's going to be like you've had this thing for decades and it'll still just be days old for me?"
Spock shifts uncomfortably in place. "Assuming it does not vanish upon the final aging stage…that would appear to be the case. Captain."
He slumps back on the pillow, hand pinching wearily at his forehead. "I can't even, with this."
"I told the doctor the news would not be welcome." Poor kid sounds so sad about the fact, that he opens his eyes again in a hurry, and exhales a silent prayer for patience.
"Okay, I'll admit it's not exactly welcome, Spock. But only because it's just…not really fair, you know? Not because I'm upset with you or anything, it's not like you intended for this to happen. And…from what I've read, it's actually a pretty amazing thing. When done while one party is not stuck in a slipstream," he adds dryly, and sees a flicker of amusement in Spock's eyes.
"But the implications of what it's doing to my mind are…disturbing, I am not going to pretend otherwise. If this is capable of affecting my command? I will not allow that, not even for you. I cannot leave this ship without her two senior officers. The ship comes first, in any and all circumstances. Do you understand this?"
"I understand," the child says quietly. "And I support your decision."
"Thank you. I hope it will not come to drastic measures." He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "What exactly is the projected treatment?"
Spock looks unimpressed. "Restore me to my proper age."
"That's it?"
"There is no other way to prevent your mental state from being brought along with mine, so to speak, short of breaking the bond entirely."
"And that means…"
Spock looks more than a little scared to death, but answers steadily enough. "A complete severing of a mental bond should only be done by a qualified mental healer. We would need to return to Vulcan for the procedure to be done safely, though in an emergency I believe Doctor T'lar might agree to make the attempt."
"I didn't mean technically. What are the consequences. For you."
The child looks away briefly. "I do not precisely know."
"And even under the influence of Doctor McCoy's best, I can tell when you're lying, Spock. Tell me what the consequences are."
"I do not know from personal experience. But…it is said to be extremely painful, both physically and mentally, and ten times that when such a bond is formed organically, of its own accord. Such a bond is much deeper, much harder to root out. The recovery time could be weeks, and there have been cases where such a procedure took months for its participants to fully recover to their previous states."
"Good god. That's out of the question then, at least until you're old enough to fully consent to the ramifications on your adult career."
"If it becomes necessary, we will take that option."
"We will do nothing of the kind. I am still the captain of this ship, medical leave or not, and I will not put one of my officers at that kind of risk."
"Even at the expense of your command."
"It hopefully won't come to that." It had better not come to that. Surely the universe would not be so cruel as to force him into an impossible choice. "If it does, then we'll take the problem on as it comes, but I'm confident we can find a way to deal with it temporarily."
"Your overconfidence has always been a source of concern for both Starfleet Command and your senior officers," Spock comments sagely, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them in a hilariously childlike gesture.
"Why is it you're never this direct in officers' briefings, young man?"
"I believe you will agree the circumstances do not allow time for indirectness. Sir."
"Dear Lord, how did you get through my teenaged years without wanting to strangle me. How about you turn that brain of yours to finding a solution for this problem instead of smarting off to your elders?"
Looking cooperative but not in the least chastened, the child nods and slides off the bio-bed to land gracefully as a cat on the floor, then turns to re-activate the bed's sensors. Gentle beeps and whistles fill the silence of the cubicle a moment later, and Kirk settles back to hopefully sleep off the effects of McCoy's emergency ministrations.
"I shall see what progress Doctor T'lar and Doctor McCoy have made in the matter," Spock says, pausing by the head of the bed.
"Mmhm." He's likely going to be asleep before the kid's halfway across the room, and nothing short of a Red Alert will wake him up, so he's not quite sure why Spock's bothering to tell him this.
Tiny eyebrows draw together in a frown as the child glances up at the diagnostic panel. "Your readings are still far too low, Captain."
"Well, keep standing there staring at me, and my blood pressure will no doubt start climbing," he says dryly, but with amusement.
The look he receives is Not Amused. "With the Doctor preoccupied and our connection muted through the application of a neural inhibitor, leaving you unattended in such a condition is unwise."
"Um. It's seriously fine, Spock. This is a 'Fleet Sickbay, and these alarms will scream a Blue Alert if anything drops into a red zone, trust me. You may not remember it but we've both been in here enough times to have well tested that function."
Spock does not look convinced, and it's a little hilarious and a little adorable. What's not quite as adorable, is the fact that he disappears from view for a few seconds, apparently to retrieve the whatever-it-is, Kirk's shaky colloquial Vulcan doesn't extend to remembering the names for extra-planetary weather phenomena, and promptly plops the animal unceremoniously down on his torso, whereupon it gives a startled meep and digs tiny claws in to stabilize its landing on a reflective thermal blanket.
"What the –" He stops the expletive just in time to save inquisitive childish ears, and clears his throat instead. "Spock, what are you doing?"
"Arcturian creatures are capable of a rudimentary empathic connection with the individuals upon which they imprint shortly after birth, Captain. She will alert me if your condition worsens."
"She will…wait, it's a she? And what – you are not leaving this thing here!" Spock has already started walking away, leaving the bat-kit staring after its owner, wings flattened in wary aggression. "Spock, do not act like you can't hear me when we both know you have Vulcan hearing!"
He'd bet his entire next month of hazard pay the little brat is a teenager now.
With a sigh, his head falls back to the pillow in weariness. He glares at the kitten as its tiny wings finally relax, deciding its new environment is not hostile. It stares at him with beady eyes, and finally deigns to meow an aloof greeting, giving itself a shake and then hunkering down with its paws tucked in like a Sphynx. A cloud of loose white fur flies everywhere in a truly impressive defiance of artificial gravity.
He sighs, and closes his eyes again.
And then sneezes violently. Twice.
"You cannot be serious."