Author's Note: Updated 2/12/15 with two additional scenes.
I don't know if I have the proper words to express my gratitude for your comments last chapter. But I'll try. As I said before, this story has taken me a longer time to write but it also has been the most taxing on me. As some of you noted, it is complex and intense to read. For the writer...egads! It most certainly has been for me, too! And I am absent-minded/forgetful both by nature and from medical issues, so keeping my act together for this one has been difficult. The fact that you all chimed in when I was at a very low point was quite overwhelming. And by chimed I mean poured in! I never wanted anyone to feel guilty, but it was an opportunity for me to help myself by sharing a little more openly. I greatly appreciate the thought and time that went into your reviews. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! They were encouraging, helpful, and the TLC that I needed. I am going to look back at this if I sense my spirits ever dipping low again. It would be better, of course, if I wasn't so darn sensitive. I do not have thick skin, but it has thickened since I've begun sharing stories here. You have been kind and gentle with me - again, I thank you! I am very happy you have enjoyed this story!
On to the next chapter...It is BIG on the hurt/comfort factor. That's a warning for ya. Maybe leaning towards the hurt side a bit more. Also...Spock? The poor guy hasn't gotten the time that Jim and McCoy have had but that changes in this chapter. I've also included another important truthful 'flashback' scene that occurs just few days before that horrible Re'an meld that Jim experienced on the planet. It is for your benefit, not something Jim remembers, just to be clear. It also weaves in some plot points, including one about Tarsus.
I know I've been able to update the last couple of times fairly quickly. The next one, though, may be a week or so. Please forgive me for that. :) Happy reading!
It was McCoy's fault. All of it, just like it was in those damn manifestations.
It was utterly ridiculous and illogical to compare one misspoken word to the grievous but fabricated error McCoy committed against Jim that his friend most likely endured for the entirety of his catatonic state. But, that was what McCoy did.
He almost couldn't force himself to look at the confusion and resignation sure to be on his best friend's face. He had messed up. He knew it. Spock knew it. They all had heard him. They would all later reassure him it wasn't his fault, that something of this nature was bound to happen - but McCoy knew better. When he glanced down, what he expected did not happen. Instead, his worst fear had come to pass.
Jim's eyes were wide open and his expression as blank as the day they rescued him from Re'an V.
"No, no, no. Jim. Jim?" McCoy whispered. He stroked Jim's head twice and with the back of his finger, touched his cheek. Jim's eyelashes didn't even flutter. McCoy's heart race as he looked up at Spock. "No, Spock. This can't happen. He's not..."
Desperation rising, he let the question hang but Spock understood.
"He is in a safe place, doctor," Spock said softly.
"What do you mean safe?" McCoy widened his eyes.
"He is in a place that I previously created for a time such as this. He is surrounded by neutral yet pleasant memories of us."
"He's in a trance you put him in, then? I thought we were trying to get him out of something like this!"
"It was necessary." The Vulcan's calm answer pacified McCoy little by little. "I directed him there as the panic he was feeling was becoming too much for him to bear. He is content, Dr. McCoy. His panic threatened to signal the Re'an barrier. I could not allow that to happen. I will bring him out of this state when I sense he is able to communicate and can do so without fear."
"And you had the foresight to make this place in his mind...when?"
"The very day Jim regained his sense of touch."
McCoy didn't want to read more into that than he had to, but he had no choice. He needed to know everything that Spock had done - and why. "You expected this to happen."
Spock inclined his head. "Yes. I calculated the possibility of it occurring, either during his recovery or at an indeterminate time in the future."
"The future? This could happen again, is that what you're saying? And what if you're not there to help him?"
"I believe he could find it on his own if he felt any danger, once he has realized that it is a possible danger and once he has both realized and believed in the essence of James Tiberious Kirk." Spock stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I must inform you, Dr. McCoy, that although I believe the Re'an barrier can be broken, it does not mean it will be completely dissolved. I expect that small, discarded pieces may remain imbedded in Jim's mind."
"He wouldn't need to resort to something like this years from now, if something triggered these Re'an pieces. Spock, that's unacceptable."
"It is the nature of the Re'an meld," Spock's eyes flickered with a glimpse of sadness that only magnified McCoy's worry.
"Fuck," McCoy whispered.
The situation became all too real to McCoy when Uhura brought over a chair - and a book - and began to read. Distraction. Not for Jim, but for those gathered around the captain. Nonetheless, despite the doctor's mistake Jim remained tucked against McCoy and wrapped in his embrace. Spock stood beside Uhura, his eyes trained on Jim and hands at his sides and not behind his back as was customary. It was the oddest situation in every sense. Even Christine remained in the room, more or less taking over McCoy's job, watching the monitors or making sure Jim's vitals remained well within the levels McCoy desired them to be.
They were like figures in a snowglobe, waiting with bated breath to be shaken from their precarious situation. They remained unshaken for almost two hours, none of them wanting to break the moment for fear it would harm or provoke Jim in some way before he was ready. The only change was the voice that read.
Uhura stumbled on a word, her usual clarity clouded with emotion as she raised one elegant finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. Spock gently pried the book from Uhura's hand and gave her a look that McCoy could only describe as one full of tender concern. The lieutenant walked to a corner in Jim's room, back to them all, and put her hands to her face. Her body shuddered once. McCoy observed her more closely than he did the man he held. He understood her desire for control. He himself denied that his eyes stung with emotion. He felt slightly guilty for observing every other person in the room but Jim, but at this very moment there was nothing better that he could do more for him. He knew Jim. He knew his friend, despite the meld's damage. This was what he needed more than anything - to know McCoy was not abandoning him in his clear time of need. And so the doctor's arms tightened around his captain.
It was a long, long night.
Uhura left before morning came. McCoy drifted off to sleep for a short time at some point. Spock did not. Spock paced, if McCoy could judge the patterns of a Vulcan slowly walking the length of Jim's room over and over again. Christine began a new shift as soon as her old one ended, unwilling to abandon McCoy as he, in turn, helped Jim. Just when the dormant muscles of McCoy's back screamed with more pain than ever, a quiet voice broke through with heart-breaking hesitation.
"Bones?"
Two pairs of eyes locked on McCoy and the man he held in his arms.
"Do you...do you have any of that tea?"
McCoy's eyes grew wet. Of all the things to come out of Jim's mouth... "My mama's tea?" His voice came out rougher than he intended.
"Mmph," Jim mumbled, pressing closer.
"Yeah, I sure do."
"Do you...do you think that...I'd like it...now? Like I had before?" Jim's voice waned.
"I think that you most likely will, Jim."
"Could I have some?" Jim whispered.
"You bet." McCoy quietly explained to Christine where to find the tea bags Mrs. McCoy sent into space with her son for her other son, the adopted blonde one who had stolen her heart.
Jim sighed, his body warmer than it had been the previous day. McCoy raised a hand and adjusted the hat that threatened to fall off of Jim's head. He pulled both sides of the hat over Jim's ears, wanting his friend to feel as protected as possible. Spock picked up the book left behind by Uhura. He turned a page and continued.
Feeling as if he was coming out of a dream, a whisper of truth slipped into his thoughts. Jim held his breath, holding the truth for a moment while he remembered what Spock had said. He had been captain. Captain.
Head pressed against his friend's chest, Jim relished hearing the steady rhythm of Bones' heart, a constant as the unexpected - the unfathomable - swirled around him once again. At some point, he asked for the first thing that came to his mind. Mint. He only had to wait a little while before warmth was pressed into his hand in the form of Mrs. McCoy's delicious mint tea. He sipped the liquid, draining the cup half-way before realizing his hand had begun to shake. Another set of hands lifted it from his grasp.
"Just let me know when you want more," Bones said softly. Jim nodded, focused on Spock's voice, soothed by his friends' noticeable efforts to calm him.
The burning sensation in his thigh had spread to his knee and leg long ago, just as Bones had previously mentioned, its searing heat like a brand but he didn't want to leave his friend's embrace. He wanted both: to be held and to be free of this pain. While he wanted to understand what his friends were telling him, he was afraid - and he didn't want to experience anymore of this crushing fear.
He waited before speaking, almost hoping that they would just go ahead and be done with whatever they wanted to do with him because he was also too confused to argue. As long as he could stay like this. Protected. Cared for. Much like a captain wouldn't want to feel, he ascertained. Some captain he was. He was forgetful, blind, laid up with this leg that...
Jim took a sharp breath. If he had an infection caused by alien blood in his leg, that meant that he'd been in contact with a Re'an being, the contact possibly being of a violent nature. His hand had been damaged enough - crushed by a foot? - that modern medicine could not fix it quickly. His stomach injuries suggested he'd been kicked.
But by whom?
"Your crew," Jim asked, his heart thudding in his ears. He couldn't say "my crew." He couldn't even begin to identify himself as a former captain, not when he didn't even remember being one in the first place. "Was anyone else injured?"
He felt their hesitation, but Bones came through. "Minor injuries."
Had the Re'an hurt him as well as the crew? The very ones with whom he identified himself now? He flinched, pulling away from the idea.
"The crew is obviously in good hands with Spock as captain. But...what are you going to do with me?" He asked instead.
"What am I going to to with..." Bones choked. "We're not going to throw you out of an airlock, if that's what's worryin' ya."
Jim scrunched up his face. Airlock? What the hell was an airlock?
Jim, an airlock is the point of entry to a starship which allows ingress and egress to empty space or another vessel which has docked at the portal.
That doesn't help me much, Spock.
It will send you directly into the vacuum of space.
"I'm useless here," he said simply. He had nothing to offer, at least he didn't think he did. How could he? Blind? With no knowledge or memory of how this ship operated? The idea was ludicrous, yet they still wanted him here on this ship. He didn't even remember 'airlock,' and the way Spock answered him made his head spin.
He was certain every single person on this ship had a distinct purpose. Everyone except him. He was useless.
"No." The authoritative tone in Spock's voice halted Jim's thoughts. He sounded much like a captain - and like a man Jim did not want to cross right now. Jim buried himself as much as possible in Bones' embrace. "You are not useless. You are Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Jim, you are a man of extreme intelligence and abilities, with unique and dynamic experiences that have made you who you are. Your blindness does not make you useless, and your blindness may cease if we strengthen our bond. The idea of you being aboard this ship is not ludicrous. I know for a fact that you recall certain skills that the ship requires to operate- they only need to be tested and practiced to resurface. There are ways to assist you once you are mobile. There are options to explore should you wish to acquire information from a data padd or the computers."
"That's not fair," Jim muttered.
"What isn't?" Bones asked softly.
"He read my mind. I can't read his."
"You cannot read my mind because I am shielding it from you nor do I project my thoughts unless I so desire. I can read your mind because you project what you are thinking quite easily."
While Jim mused on his dislike for being easily read, a warmth swept through his entire body and his leg ached much less than before. "Why is that?"
"You do not have the mental control required to stop yourself from doing so."
"Why don't I have control?"
"You have recently experienced trauma, Jim. Severe mental and physical trauma. I do not believe you would normally broadcast your thoughts in this manner."
"Oh." Once again, Spock's answer confused him, but Jim wasn't even sure he wanted to know what Spock meant by 'severe mental trauma.' He let the question die, thinking it unnecessary since his friends promised before to take care of the whys - and it was soon forgotten.
"Depending upon the circumstance, a bond can have fragile beginnings. Control is learned."
"How do I learn that control?" Jim relaxed in Bones' arms and closed his eyes. This felt good. This was...
This was Spock's doing. Somewhat irritated at the Vulcan, he peeled his eyes open and took a slow, cleansing breath. He was not going to sleep this time.
"You must practice. It will strengthen our bond. You could also meet me halfway - by fighting my intrusion." Jim swore he heard amusement in Spock's voice. "Just as you are doing now, Jim."
Jim's ability to work with Spock extended for ten more minutes, until the Re'an influence came to the forefront.
"I shouldn't be doing this," Jim stiffened. "My mind is...it's..."
McCoy shook his head at Spock to stop. "It's what, Jim?"
"The captain is both confused and fatigued but mostly reluctant to continue," Spock said. McCoy scowled at Spock's address to Jim. It was pushing things, but it did elicit a reaction from Jim.
Jim huffed a breath, slowly kneading his forehead. "I don't see how you can call me that. That's not what I am. It's not who I am anymore. I'm...I'm tired, Bones."
"It looks like this will help stabilize your body temperature, Jim. It increased by .4 degrees. We can stop for now so you can rest."
"Ceasing our efforts is inadvisable at this point," Spock stated primly.
"It can wait. A few hours won't hurt, will it?" McCoy challenged the Vulcan.
Jim's hand fell to his lap and he remained silent for a moment, as if sensing that McCoy and the Vulcan were at odds with each other. "You're trying to get rid of it, aren't you?" He asked in a low voice. "The Re'an side? So I can be your captain again?"
"It is the logical thing to do, Jim," Spock answered.
"Is it what you wish us to do?" McCoy asked the last question on earth he wanted to Jim to consider, but they had all agreed that giving Jim the opportunity to choose would nurture his commanding side.
There was a slight crease to Jim's brow. "Why would I want to leave you when I have nothing to go back to? They're all dead, aren't they? Just like Dr. Jahnas. I couldn't save them."
With that statement, a large tear rolled down Jim's cheek.
**********previously on the Enterprise**********
"Doctor, I cannot wait one hour."
"Stay for thirty minutes, then, until we make sure all things are clear."
"As you wish, Dr. McCoy."
McCoy closed the curtain around the commander and rolled his eyes. Anticipating that very answer, he may have fudged a bit on the time in the first place. Jim would be proud, he smirked. The Vulcan had required an inoculation which varied from that of the humans' on the away team. Spock showed symptoms early on to another virus, similar to the Re'an virus, and although the inoculation at this time wouldn't do much good to stop the virus, it would stave off a more severe case. Thankfully, they'd caught it at the onset and before anything worsened. Spock would be as good as new before he walked out of sickbay.
McCoy turned around, catching sight of an ashen-faced Jim Kirk staggering up to the biobed next to Spock.
"What the hell is wrong with you? You were just in here a few days ago!"
"I know. Sick," Jim groaned, heaving himself on the bed - and heaving the contents of his stomach over the side before McCoy had a chance to contain it. Always on alert when Jim visited sickbay, a nurse was over and cleaning it up before McCoy could request assistance. Christine hustled over as well, grabbing a shirt from the drawer when she spied Jim had not been successful in keeping his command shirt clean.
"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" McCoy braced Jim shoulders as Christine pulled his shirt over his head, and then guided his arms into a softer, white one. He carefully lowered Jim back on the bed, not liking Jim's pale face nor the circles under his eyes. He allowed Jim to beam to Re'an after the second inoculation because he was showing no ill effects. But if he'd known these symptoms were going to emerge and run rampant, grounding Jim would have been the first thing on his mind, no matter the importance of the Re'an ceremony.
Jim's head fell limply on the pillow, looking at McCoy through heavily lidded eyes. He opened his mouth and said the one word that told him everything. "Leather."
"Shit, Jim," McCoy sighed, irritated with him already. "If your nausea and stomach pain is that bad, it is more than likely an allergic reaction to the vaccine. How long? Wait. Never mind. The tricorder tells me you're already dehydrated. But I could tell that from just lookin' at ya, ya idiot. Again, I must ask you why you didn't say a damn word about it earlier?"
The moron blinked widely at him. "I was busy. I wasn't here. You had to cover an emergency surgery, and this mission has too much at stake. And...I hated to mention it. You know why. Makes me think of Tarsus."
"And continuing to feel this sick doesn't make you think of Tarsus?" McCoy almost added sarcasm but softened his approach when guilt filled Jim's expression.
He understand the man's aversion, he did, and he had to give him credit for coming down here of his own accord. McCoy glanced sternly at Chris, who had paused in her work, grieved eyes upon Jim as she learned the truth of Jim's past. Surely Jim knew what he was doing, but the words slipped from the captain's mouth in his sickness. Good thing sickbay was shockingly empty other than the two nurses and the captain and his first officer, a Vulcan who now knew Jim's tightly fisted secret. Jim was so out of it he didn't even glare at the newly placed catheter in his hand. Instead, McCoy felt his friend's eyes on him as he programmed the computer.
"Dammit, Jim! If you'd waited any longer, I'd have to keep you in here for a few days. All things considered, you'll be lucky enough to get out tomorrow."
"You're not going to make me talk about it again, are you?" Jim mumbled, barely coherent. "Sit down with a therapist and give them the non-fairy tale version of what Starfleet screwed up?"
"As I clearly recall, Pike made you rehash more than enough of that during your first and second years at the Academy."
Jim made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.
"Unless..." McCoy observed Jim grimly. "Are ya having problems again?"
"Kodos just haunts me when you force me to eat wheat, Bones."
"Jim..."
"And those slimy green things you have the audacity to call vegetables and 'good for you.'" Jim shivered.
"Give me a serious ans- "
Jim gagged, but McCoy timed it right as the captain was sick again, this time with nothing but stomach bile.
"Dammit, Jim."
"Put me out of my misery," Jim said hoarsely, his brilliant blue eyes pleading. McCoy helped him rinse and Chris wiped his brow with a cool cloth. Jim groaned, curling up on his side.
"If you don't answer the question honestly, I might just do that."
"I hate you sometimes, you know."
"Yep. I know. Feeling's mutual."
There was a pregnant pause. McCoy crossed his arms.
"I've been fine. Until now. Today." Jim said, words clipped but McCoy could read in Jim's expression that was telling the truth.
"Okay, then." McCoy held his gaze, not even looking at Chris except through the corner of his eye when she gave Jim the anti-emetic to combat the nausea. She did so with a gentleness McCoy hadn't seen from her in awhile, and he paused, considering that Jim's words had affected her. He made a mental note to talk with her later. "This is what we will do."
"What? A twelve-step plan?" Jim scoffed.
"No. It's simpler than that. For a few days, even during this mission, Jim, I'm moving into your quarters to stay the night. Just to make sure you're alright."
"But, Bones," Jim whined. "I...I wanted to ask..."
"What?"
Jim closed his eyes and turned his head. "Never mind."
"Or, who?" McCoy widened his eyes as Jim huffed a sigh. "Huh. It is a who, isn't it?"
"Shut it."
"Maybe...Dr. Jahnas?"
Jim didn't answer.
"Well, I'll stay in the bedroom, then. You two can stay in the living room. That room one is larger and even has a sofa and is maybe more suitable for whatever...whatever it is that you two have planned." McCoy smirked. "How does that sound?"
"It's not for a date," Jim weakly protested. "It's work in a casual setting. I'd like for us to continue our research one more day. We've been meeting more often already-"
McCoy couldn't help but take a sharp breath.
"See?" Jim whined again. "I knew you'd take it that way."
"Because she reminds you of Gaila?"
Jim nodded.
"And Gaila helped you with your nightmares?"
Jim nodded again, slowly.
McCoy filled with regret. "I see. I know I've hinted that you've transferred your dependence from Gaila to Dr. Jahnas in the past - and I was wrong to assume that. I'm sorry. And I know that's not where your mind is taking you this time, either. I'm sorry you hesitated to tell me about it, but, Jim...I still have to be there. You know the patterns and the ways you try to cope. We have to watch, especially since this allergic reaction could trigger things."
"I know." Jim grimaced. His arm lay limply across his abdomen as a miserable sigh slipped from his lips. Continuing to see to Jim's needs, Chris tucked the blanket around the captain.
McCoy laid a hand on Jim's sweaty forehead before brushing his hair back. He wished for the millionth time that things like this wouldn't always seem to find his best friend. But while they did, he would make damn sure he was there to do whatever it to help him, even if that meant cleaning up messes off the floor. "I will move you to a private room soon but first, I want you to sleep out here where I can keep a close eye on ya. You need it and it'll allow your body a respite from what it's been doing to ya. And Jim? I trust you."
"The feeling's mutual," Jim whispered before he closed his eyes.
McCoy waited beside Jim's bed while the sedative he slipped to him did its work. He also waited, because he knew any second the Vulcan would make known he'd heard the entire exchange.
"Dr. McCoy," Spock's voice quietly called him from behind the curtain.
McCoy pulled the curtain. "Yes, Spock."
"Why did you allow him to continue to speak so candidly while I was here?"
"Believe it or not, it was on his to-do list."
"To-do list?" Spock repeated, eyebrows arched.
"Yes. It was number 6 out of 256. 'Tell Spock about Tarsus.' Right after number 5, 'Make sure no one ever finds Scotty's stash of Romulan Ale.' He wanted to tell you before we were one hundred days into this five year mission. He was cutting it awfully damn close, though."
"Indeed. He had 4.3 days remaining."
"Considering all that's been happening around here lately and what he had on his mind, I figured this would make it easier on him. He already let the cat out of the bag, Spock."
"I see." Spock stood and came beside Jim's bed, face drawn and eyes piercing Jim's still and slumberous form as if he could read his mind from afar. "It was a most horrifying experience for a young boy."
"He'll tell you more about it someday, I'm sure. He wasn't just there Spock. He was one of those few survivors who saw and heard Kodos give the orders to execute thousands of people, Jim, his uncle, and his aunt included," McCoy said quietly. "He led a small pack of kids he rescued. They fought to stay alive through the starvation. All of them...until..."
Spock's eyes flipped up to meet his as McCoy paused. The other details weren't his to tell. McCoy almost took a step back at the intensity of emotion he saw swirling in those eyes. "It is not necessary for him to explain any further, doctor. I do not wish to make it more difficult for him. When you tell him that I now know of this part of his past, please also inform the captain that many things have now come into place for me concerning Jim Kirk but the depth of our friendship has not suffered. This has grounded our friendship, more so, but my loyalty and affection runs deep, having grown since the beginning. It is a brotherly love that flows as deeply as my affection for Nyota, even without a bond."
"Spock, as his best friend all these years, I can tell you with certainty that I think he needs to hear some of this from you. When the time is right, I mean. It would mean a lot to him."
"Very well," Spock stated simply. "When that time comes I will tell him. He is my friend and my captain and he always will be, no matter the circumstances that could bar the way."
********* end scene **********
Spock could see no one else but him revealing to Jim the sordid details of the Re'an. He also did not want anyone else to take up the task so he began quickly, mindful to keep several facts to himself. "Do you see that your intelligence reveals itself to you through these questions, Jim?"
"I shouldn't be asking them," Jim said, voice cracking with emotion as he dragged his sleeve across his eyes to wipe his tears away.
When Jim appeared to have strengthened his resolve, McCoy slipped off the bed. As soon as his shoes touched the floor, he received a comm from Dr. M'Benga. He relayed that one of the recent tests were successful and they could now begin administering an antidote that would work more efficiently to heal Jim's leg wound. McCoy excused himself, a slow smile on his lips at the positive news.
"You desire to ask them," Spock stated.
"I do." Jim bit his lip.
"Thus, I will answer your question. Yes, they are deceased, having succumbed to their violent tendencies. The meld occurred too late for them to use your memories to salvage their culture. Even if the meld had occurred days prior, it would have made no difference. Their numbers had diminished significantly before our arrival, as they were already in the throes of this degenerative state. We were unable to find an alternative. I grieve with thee, Jim."
Jim's face turned to stone, but it was a facade swiftly fading. Spock waited a moment, allowing his words to sink in. There was no other way to present the truth to Jim. It would prove more difficult for the captain if they waited.
He did not wish for Jim to desire to keep his Re'an tendencies. Those distanced Jim from them all. He also did not wish for the Enterprise to be Jim's second choice and felt a distinct loss that this was so. Not having Jim in his life as he had before wounded Spock. He never had the opportunity to share with Jim what he told Dr. McCoy because events on Re'an had escalated all too quickly. As much as he wanted to speak of this, he had perceived early on that he must wait. 'Tarsus' was much like 'captain' - hidden from Jim's mind behind the barrier. Indeed, even the facts behind Dr. Jahnas' manifested death remained hidden.
To earn Jim's trust and to allow him to come to his own conclusions naturally, Spock decided that the next step must be taken.
"Jim, not all was lost," he said softly.
"I don't understand," Jim whispered. "They're dead. That's why you haven't discussed them with me at all."
"We have a guest aboard the Enterprise."
"Someone...someone survived?" Jim asked in disbelief.
"Because of your decision as captain, Jim, as well as your efforts to extract her, one did survive. One who wished to escape from the clutches of the Re'an and return to her human family."
"Soona," Jim said, awed. "Can she come here? For a visit?"
"No, she cannot."
In spite of his blindness, Jim stared at him in stunned silence.
"Wh...what?"
"I cannot permit her to visit you, Jim."
Jim's eyes flooded with tears. He began blinking them away in an obvious struggle to maintain his composure. "Wh...why not?"
Spock could not explain it in its entirety to Jim, but he pondered the reasons silently, as if to reinforce their decision in his own mind. The scent of snake lingered on Soona, as she kept in proximity with the remaining, dying creatures aboard the Enterprise. The scent triggered the Re'an tendencies in Jim. Visiting Soona guaranteed that the Re'an barrier would strengthen. He wished to inform Jim about the snakes and he would eventually, but he could not allow Jim to be near them. It was logical and prudent to keep this as simple as possible for Jim despite the pain that it caused.
"I cannot explain my reasons for disallowing her visit."
"Can I at least talk to her?" The captain clenched the edge of his blanket with a fist.
"I cannot allow that either, Jim."
"But just to hear her voice." Jim's voice cracked, his tears slipping out one by one. "She's the only other Re'an left."
"As Acting Captain of this vessel, I do not allow it."
Jim's tears now cascaded down his cheeks. "Please. Spock..."
As Jim's emotions projected in an even greater intensity, Spock was forced to make another decision. He could either put up his shields - and Dr. McCoy would return, greatly angered at Spock to see Jim in such a severe state of distress. Or, he could use this to show Jim that he was only acting in the captain's best interest and most influenced by his friendship with Jim.
The former was 100% logical. The latter completely unguarded and emotionally taxing - for them both.
"No, Jim."
"But..."
"No," he said firmly. "We will not discuss my decision any further."
"Spock, please." Jim choked on a sob.
No, Jim. That is all we will speak of it.
I can't believe you're doing this to me. It hurts.
It is for your best interest, Jim.
But she's the only one left. Please...
And you are our captain. You are the only one that should be sitting in the command chair of the Enterprise.
Spock, I don't understand. Why are you fighting for me?
Before he answered, Spock projected his emotions to Jim, preparing him for the depth of affection he wished to convey. He began slowly, building upon the intensity with each layer. In turn, he sensed Jim's earlier distress fade away as the warmth and love surrounded him. The captain relaxed, soon engrossed, in awe and fully experiencing and basking in the affection Spock carried for him as their friendship had grown over time.
It is simple. Because my captain is no longer present, I have a gaping hole in my heart. It is simply neither logical nor acceptable to be without you.
McCoy's return in mind, Spock allowed only another moment to pass before disconnecting from the current transfer. Jim's tears had reduced to a tender leaking from the corners of his eyes, a result from receiving Spock's emotions. Once the captain was sated, no longer distressed but content in the pure warmth and love Spock had bestowed upon him, Spock removed himself from the transfer. The captain's breath hitched.
"That is enough for now. You will continue to absorb my emotions for some time, Jim. This has made our bond stronger. I will be able to alleviate your pain from a longer distance, until the antidote clears the infection. You will also be reminded that you have nothing to fear from us or by being here. We will be patient with you as we help you find your way amongst us once more. Jim? Do you understand?" Spock paused, sensing that Jim did understand and continued to be overwhelmed by Spock's emotions. Jim finally nodded, silent in his reply. "Very well. I am on duty and must leave when Dr. McCoy returns. Jim..."
Jim's eyes had closed but he nodded again.
"Do you feel the depth of my friendship?" Spock, of course, knew he did but asked for Jim's sake.
Jim lifted his good hand to wipe his eyes, the third nod almost imperceptible.
"I will return at 1800 hours if Dr. McCoy deems it permissible."
Jim cleared his throat but it did no good. His voice was rough, inaudible to human ears. "Please...do."
Spock laid a hand on his shoulder in one last act of comfort. The doors opened, McCoy entering and coming to a halt. With swift observation skills, the doctor began to assess the situation but Spock inclined his head to the doors. Spock strode from the room, turning once the doors closed to brace an arm against the wall. Liquid seeped from his eyes.
"Would you mind tellin' me what's going on?" McCoy said worriedly.
Spock lifted a sleeve to his face, preparing himself to explain what had transpired. He was doing all he could to return their captain to them, save ripping the barrier asunder, which would further damage Jim's mind. Jim needed time as these two personalities, these two separate forces, had begun to mix together. He needed time to be at ease on this ship - his own ship - by becoming mobile and discovering a task he could manage. Spock believed their true captain would eventually emerge. For now...they must wait.