I want to thank you kind readers, once more, for stringing along with me in this fic. Let me know how you enjoyed it! I can tell you I sure as hell enjoyed writing it. I've gotten in the habit of just writing in my free time, versus being less productive like I used to be. It's a great thing. LLAP my sweet Trekkie nerds! This is the last chapter of Trepidation in the Nameless.

"Now waitta damn minute! I have some serious questions for you!" chastised McCoy, his arms crossed with his rump atop a biobed. He winced and swatted at Chapel's hand.

"Leonard, sit still. I need to seal this up," she scolded with a returning swat. He ignored her and continued staring at the glowing alien standing across from him. They'd vacated to the main area, as Spock's room was a disarray of debris and calamity. He shot a huffy finger over to Spock, who was sitting on the biobed beside him, and continued.

"What the hell did that thing do to him? Before you decided it was a convenient time to show up and actually do something recreationally constructive, that cretin did something different, something unlike what it did before, and then had the audacity to tell me his blood isn't clean!"

Haha's shoulders loosened in what seemed like a sigh, and it too regarded Spock.

"What it said is true, in a sense. Your blood is not clean," it said to him, "but it is not tainted either. It is simply different, now."

McCoy raised his brow expectantly, his lips tight together, as he waited. Spock found no alarm nor surprise in the admission. It was to be expected, after all.

"When I retracted the venom of the crystals from his body, I was replacing it with the purity of them," explained Hahv softly. "One element of the some construct against another. I could not completely revitalize his blood, as it was severely distorted from it's natural state, but I was able to re-fabricate the missing pieces. To save him, I had no choice. Your friend has Nvandian crystals as a part of his physical make-up now, and he forever will. Unfortunately…my counterpart was able to sense it. To manipulate it in order to harm him." Hahv gracefully walked over to Spock and placed it's hand upon his, and the veins beneath Spock's skin faded up from their translucency. They were a shallow violet.

"So he lives with this danger for the rest of his life?" asked Kirk, a true inquiry rather than accusation. Hahv shook his head.

"A danger, no. The ones who resided on the planet below us specialized in contorting the Nvandian's to deplete life, rather than my people's way, which is the opposite. Life is the natural, organic way of the crystals. Of us. Now that they are gone, he is safe. There are no other species alive who can use it against him."

"There must be effects," McCoy stated with a scowl. He winced again and shot Chapel a glare, who returned the glare harshly. Hahv removed his hand and allowed Spock's arm to return to it's natural state.

"I believe your friend already knows of it's effects." It leaned hardly an inch closer to Spock, who looked up at it. A kindness took it's eyes, and offered in a quieted voice, "It will not last to this severity forever, though it will never truly fade. You will adjust. I cannot affirm the ricochet of the future, though, for myself, your living dissolves the regret of any of it's effects." It's eye contact ran a crisp chill through the Vulcan, and he nodded. He understood.

Hahv stood tall and stepped away from him, and he took a place in the middle of the room. He looked between the four of them.

"I have much to attend to, pieces of a disaster and tragedy of my people that needs addressing. I truly wish this ship to discover the enthralling depths of the galaxy. You have no idea the magnificents of the beyond. Never fear the unknown, for it's the unknown's that will show you who you are."

Kirk smiled. "Thank you for saving my ship, Hahv."

"Thank you, and your ship, for aiding me to save the galaxy, Jim Kirk."

Chapel put the thermal degenerator down upon the desk and placed her hand on McCoy's shoulder. The doctor had a frown upon his face, but not even he could help but marvel in the spectacle of the figure. Spock's right hand was lifted, his fingers parted in a salute that he truly desired for the diminishing being.

Soon, the four of them found themselves once more alone. A few silent moments passed before McCoy found his tongue again.

"What in blazes was it talking about?" he asked accusingly to Spock. Spock cocked his head over to him in mild annoyance.

"My touch telepathy is marred, as well as the fact that I cannot fall into the Vulcan healing trance," he answered stoically.

"Is that why you've been jumping five feet away from me every time I'm in the same room as you? What the hell, Spock? Couldn't you have said something?"

"I would not define it as 'jumping five feet away', Doctor McCoy, and the reason I kept it to myself is because there were other things to focus on. Nothing within your power could balance it, regardless." At this, the doctor angrily brought his crossed arms closer into his chest and hunched over in objection. Spock gave a small shake at the emotionalism.

"It is nothing extreme, Doctor. The worst of it is the effect that touch has upon me, so all I require of you it to keep your physical contact at a bare minimum until I can accurately gauge it's course. And preferably after that, as well," he added with a raised eyebrow. McCoy replied with narrowed eyes.

"You green goblin. I hate you."

Kirk thought perhaps he saw the ghost of a smile cross Spock's face, and in effect, it caused one to cross Kirk's. Whatever pure relief Spock had displayed at the reveal of McCoy's living life, it was no where to be found, just as McCoy's was for Spock's. Some things, he mused, would never change.

"Shall we warp out of this sector as fast as physically possible, officers?" he teased wryly. He flipped out his communicator. "Kirk to Sulu."

"Sulu here, Captain."

"Get us out of here."

"Nothing would make me happier, sir."

"Nor I, Lieutenant." He flipped it shut and, in his moment of feeling rather tired, rubbed his eyes.

"Bones."

"Hmm."

"You remember when we were in the lift, long, long ago? You were saying something about a Gerodi…Gerodi…"

"Gerradi D'Amato, yes sir, I remember all right."

"Well…" he dropped his hands and gave him a look. "You got any of those little blue pills he so wonderfully created? I think I could use a few."

McCoy chuckled and pushed himself off the bed. He breathed deeply, enjoying the rush of air into his lungs, gave Chapel a fond pat on the shoulder, and led himself over to the cabinets. He glanced at Spock's biomonitor as he passed by. They were, to his hidden joy, the most improved they had been since the day this had all begun. He smiled in spite of himself and creaked the cabinet door open.

"All you're gonna need is one, Jim."

— — — — — —

Two weeks had passed.

The Enterprise charted Federation regulated stars and gathered cosmic dust as they pushed deeper into their orders. Finally, Kirk's chair gave a buzz. McCoy notified him that his first officer, freshly cleared for full active duty, was getting prepared to join the bridge. Elated, Kirk leapt off the chair and jaunted to the turbo lift. He could, of course, wait until Spock stepped onto the bridge, as it wouldn't be long. But, after having missed the Vulcan for such a terribly long time during work, he was impatient to see him. He expected to meet the doctor and first officer in the sickbay, perhaps discuss a few things before things returned to normal, but as he turned a corner on deck 3, this is not what happened.

Spock seemed almost surprised to see the captain, here in the middle of the corridor, after McCoy had just communicated to him that he was on his way up. He was wearing that science blue shirt, the shining pin of Starfleet sitting appropriately atop his chest.

He was standing, tall, lean, strong. His weight was healthy, his skin even more so. Something akin to jubilance warmed the center of Kirk's chest, and to the surprise of both of them, he suddenly launched into an impulsive wide-set grin and took several large steps forward. He reached out his arms and pulled the alarmed Vulcan into a joyous hug, careful to wrap his hands around his shirt only, and tightened his grip. His smile grew wider as he felt the Vulcan stiffen in his embrace, unsure of what to do at the action.

It was common sense to never puncture the bubble of a Vulcan. You simply don't do it. Yet here he was, alive. The captain could not dissuade himself this one vice. He needed to hold the Vulcan differently than he had in Nvandia's forest, with his shoulders tensed awkwardly and his damned Vulcan eyebrows shooting up expressively and his even more damned heart thumping with life.

"Damn it, Spock. I am so damn happy you're alright."

Spock's arms were glued to his side, the contact somewhat uncomfortable for the Vulcan in him. But the human in Spock looked down to his friend, Kirk's arms embracing and eyes clenched in happiness, with concealed affection.

Dreams were something of a rarity for Vulcans, night terrors even more so. Only a few had plagued Spock, most of them having dissipated after Hahv's healing touch. After the alien's departure, though he was not riddled with fear in dreams, he could not stop the subconscious act of recalling the past's events. The deepest parts of him could never eradicate the knowledge of what pure agony could feel like, what dying could feel like. What it did feel like. If he allowed his mind to wander, it would wander to the freshest parts of his darkest corners that he wished to keep sealed away.

It was this reason that he had pushed Doctor McCoy to releasing him as early as possible, so he could keep himself busy and occupied with work. To return to the peace he so revered.

This, and he strangely found solace in being in the presence of James Kirk. It was a much brighter contrast to being held prisoner with Doctor McCoy for the past two weeks, and Spock could already feel the peace creep back into his mind as he stood in the hallways of the Enterprise, his blue uniform crinkling under the embrace of a very human captain. Spock blinked down at him, his muscles relaxing and that one brow lifting fittingly.

"Of course I am alright, Captain."