It had not been the wisest decision to spend the night outside.
Spock's chest felt congested, he was coughing badly, and to top it all, he was running a fever. It was not normal for Vulcans to get sick, but exposure to the harsh climate of the desert was unadvisable in general.
However, Spock had not had a choice. It would have been impossible to move the sehlat to any measure of safety in the night. And so, he had had to stay with the animal through the night.
And in order to ensure their safety, he had stayed awake the entire time.
Now, at the crack of dawn, he could feel a deep ache in his limbs. The sehlat was still asleep.
Spock stood up gingerly. His fingers were extremely stiff. It was excruciating to even close his hands halfway.
Plus, the injuries from Zarmal were throbbing again.
He tried to ignore all this. His first task now, was to wake the sehlat up, and to reach the cave.
Spock gently nudged the animal just below the crown of its head. The sleeping creature made a contented noise in its throat and refused to open its eyes. Spock sighed. He nudged a little harder. This time the sehlat woke up, but lazily pushed his head back into Spock's hand.
"It is an adoring being," Spock thought to himself, smiling inwardly.
And he needed to stop referring to the sehlat as an 'it' because he was clearly a male.
Spock decided to call him I-Chaya.
He placed his fingers on I-Chaya's meld points and sent certain basic things his way, like the fact that they really needed to move, and that he would call him I-Chaya.
The sehlat gave a short bark of understanding. And Spock withdrew from his mind.
I-Chaya stood up with some difficulty. The first time, his injured leg collapsed under him and he let out a pained howl.
"Shhh…You are capable of balancing your weight on your other legs, I-Chaya," Spock said to his new companion. He wasn't sure if he was understanding any of this, but a moment later the animal stood up with a slightly right-leaning posture as if he had heard and understood Spock's suggestion.
Slowly, the odd pair started limping towards the cave. Spock's head was heavy with the fever and there were painful, dry spots behind his eyes that seemed to stab at his nasal cavity and throat directly.
He refused to take stock of his discomfort.
The cave was about a mile away, which would normally not be a lot of distance, but for the wounded sehlat, it was proving to be a very steep task.
A moment later, his leg buckled under him and he fell down with loud, agonized grunt.
Spock felt dejected. Now they are in the middle of the desert with no cover. It was expected that there would be other animals around. Leaving I-Chaya here was not an option. So he decided to do the one thing that came to his mind.
He would carry the young sehlat. Which, when one considered it practically, was a wholly illogical idea. But Spock did not have any other answer to their rather unique situation.
"It is okay, I-Chaya," Spock said. "I know you are in pain. I shall carry you back to the cave."
Thankfully, even young Vulcans were very strong. Despite not being at his one hundred percent, Spock managed to lift I-Chaya on his back. It was a horribly painful thing to do. He hissed when the rough fur of the animal touch his raw back.
But as he had already deduced, there were no other options, Spock reminded himself sternly. He could not carry the sehlat any other way. And he would simply have to endure the liquid agony now coursing through him.
I-Chaya seemed to know that they were in a far from ideal situation. He wanted to help the young Vulcan. But he did not know how.
He licked the side of Spock's face to show him his affection, and his gratitude.
Spock did not really like the sensation, but he understood that this was I-Chaya's way of displaying his emotions. And he was not bound by the same disciplines of logic that Spock was. So he was of course free to show adoration to him in any way he liked.
"Thank You, I-Chaya," Spock said to the sehlat in response to the lick. "I shall endeavor to ensure your safety and your recovery. Your adoration is appreciated, but your gratitude is unnecessary."
Spock was amused at himself. Like a fool he was conversing with a sehlat, as if he could understand his speech.
"The Kahs'wan is perhaps a test of my sanity," Spock mused to himself.
He continued to walk slowly, stopping a few times to catch his breath and to control the pain from the wounds on his back, some of which were starting to bleed again.
This had happened so many times over the last few weeks. His recovery had been stunted on numerous occasions due to various reasons, and every time it had taken him right back to where he had started immediately after being rescued from Zarmal.
He was ready for it all to just end.
While he was occupied by his thoughts, the sehlat's ears pricked.
A faint growl was coming from somewhere.
I-Chaya growled back. Spock tried to shush him.
"No, I-Chaya," he said. "You must be quiet…." But he did not finish his sentence, because the growl of the other animal came louder this time. Spock realized that I-Chaya had heard it before him.
The young Vulcan quickened his pace, not caring that the motion was extremely jarring on his injuries. When the growl sounded closer, Spock all but ran. His face was bathed in sweat, and his breathing becoming increasingly choppy. He was overcome by a coughing fit that brought tears to his eyes, and his lungs burned with exertion.
But he knew there was absolutely no other way. He still ran as fast as he could without throwing I-Chaya off his back. The growl of the other animal seemed to be following them. But he didn't dare stop to look.
He hadn't seen it yet, but he was fairly certain that this was a le-matya.
A few seconds later, the cave came into view.
For once uncaring of I-Chaya's wound, Spock pushed the sehlat through the tiny opening he had originally created for himself. The animal grunted in discomfort, and Spock silently apologized but there was no time nor the luxury, to make it easier on him. Spock jumped immediately after and landed in a jumbled heap on the cave's cold, hard floor.
The branches and brambles covering the cave would protect them for some time, but not for long. But there was no way he was leaving. Their chances of survival were marginally higher if they remained hidden, than if they were out in the desert trying to outrun the le-matya. Not to mention that in their wounded states, neither Spock nor I-Chaya would be any good in a fight if it came to that.
And a Vulcan fighting with a le-matya would be laughable, if Spock could actually laugh at irony.
His sore body was longing to pull itself into a healing sleep. But he could not.
So he did what was expected of him out of duty. He decided to check on I-Chaya and make sure that he was unharmed.
He pushed himself of the floor, not bothering to hold his groan in this time. Slowly, he half walked, half crawled to the sehlat.
The bandage he had tied on the wound was soaked green completely.
"I apologize, I-Chaya," Spock said, regretful that the young animal had been put through such discomfort in his wounded state. "I shall try and dress your injury again. It shall provide you a degree of relief."
I-Chaya moaned tiredly and lay his head on the ground. As if knowing what Spock was about to do, he stuck his injured leg out.
With great tenderness, Spock opened the old bandage. Repeating last night's procedure, he cleaned the wound with sanitizing liquid before applying more salve and a new bandage on it.
He noted with apprehension that the medical supplies were also running out. His own injuries were begging for attention. But there was barely enough in the bottles to dress the sehlat's injury one more time. Going by the condition of the wound, Spock knew that the dressing would have to be changed latest by tomorrow night or the morning after.
Mustering all his strength of will, he placed the medical supplies back in the bag. His hunger and thirst were gnawing at his insides today, clearly because he had not meditated to control them.
But he was too exhausted to do so now. He curled up on his side next to I-Chaya's warm, furry body and closed his eyes. Against his better judgement, he decided to risk a few hours of sleep.
If they had to fight to survive the next few days, his body needed to find some rest while it could.
XXXXX
Spock was aware that he had slept a lot longer than he should have.
He opened his eyes blearily, wondering if it was the next day yet.
And it was, only that there was no day light yet. He was grateful for that.
The le-matya were not nocturnal. Which meant that he could leave the cave for now without worrying about becoming the predator's next meal.
Also, even if he wasn't allowed to eat, he needed to find nourishment for I-Chaya. Even for a young sehlat, he was big and he needed a large amount of food in order to create energy for his body's consumption.
Spock was almost certain that there was no way to meet I-Chaya's dietary needs completely, but he could make an effort to keep the animal from starvation.
He sat up slowly. But even with all the extra care, his head spun and he saw stars in front of his eyes.
It took a moment for his vision to clear.
He stood up and made his way to the opening in the branches. It took some doing, but he managed to climb out without making too much noise. The injuries on his back protested at the uncalled for brutality, but Spock deliberately ignored them.
He started walking purposefully towards the cacti grave he had seen about 500 meters away from the cave.
Cacti were not supposed to be food. They were certainly not a staple item in the diet of sehlats. But they were rich in nutrients, and filled with an electrolyte-heavy juice that would provide nutrition and maintain the hydration levels of the animal.
Spock's only task would be to cut the thorns off.
He knew how to do that. The jagged rock he had been using to carve on the wall would work well as a tool to cut away thorns.
Determinedly, Spock walked to the cacti grave. To his immense relief, he did not encounter any obstacles in this task.
Half an hour later, he was back in the cave, making the cacti edible for I-Chaya.
XXXXX
The rest of the day passed in relative peace. Spock went out in the daytime to check on the crucks. He was pleased to see that they were in the process of rebuilding their nest and that they were using his basket for its intended purpose.
He also gathered more berries for his painting, and collected a few more cacti for I-Chaya. He even found some reeds that he would be able to weave into bandages for I-Chaya. And maybe the liquid from the cacti could be used as a cleanser when the sanitizer got over.
Spock worked busily through the day, making all these preparations. But in the back of his mind, he was always aware that there was a le-matya prowling around somewhere.
And that was his main motivation to get back as soon as he could.
When he returned to the cave, he was relieved to see that the I-Chaya was eating the cacti with relish. His own stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he needed to meditate. He licked his lips to rehydrate himself; but it wasn't enough by a long shot.
Spock sat down and tried to meditate. He managed to enter into a very light trance, with his ears still at the entrance of the cave. The improper rest did not do much for him, but it did calm his ravenous hunger and thirst. Had he had more time, and none of the stress of the le-matya, he would have tried to bring down his fever and ease the fire in his injuries. But as it was, that luxury was not available to him.
After a short period of meditation, he came back to his conscious state and resumed the tasks he had begun earlier.
He mashed some of the blue berries together, in order to continue his painting.
His hands were still painful, but in order to calm his frayed nerves, he needed to paint. Without realizing, this had become his main grounding mechanism through the Kahs'wan. And right now, his need to regain his control on the situation was greater than his desire to ease his aching hands.
He started painting with his fingers deftly, never altering the uniformity of his strokes. As he worked, the waves of his mind started to fall back into a seamless ocean, closing haphazardly opened boxes of thoughts; organizing hopes, fears, dreams, and insecurities into their own little vault hidden behind a wall of mummified hurts.
XXXXX
I-Chaya watched the young boy paint. The patterns he was creating on the wall did not make much sense to him. He could smell the berries though and he wanted to go closer to the sweet smell and investigate. He was sure that they would be better tasting than the cacti the boy had brought for him. But he could not really move.
Besides, the boy was rubbing the berries on the wall. It did not seem smart to the sehlat that such perfectly eatable things were being used in this way, but he did not have any way of questioning the boy.
For a while, I-Chaya just watched. But the sweet smell was constantly in his nose and he really wanted to eat those berries.
After a few minutes, he lifted himself up and leaned on his right side like the boy had suggested earlier. He limped close to the berries and sniffed deeply.
The boy was still absorbed in rubbing the wall. He didn't even notice him.
To the sehlat, that just meant that the berries were his to take. He used his right front paw to scoop some of the berries into his mouth.
With a loud, satisfied slurp he ate the berries. The noise startled the boy. He turned and looked at the blue juice smeared over I-Chaya's long canines. And then he looked at the berries.
"Those were not for you to consume, I-Chaya," Spock said with an inflection of annoyance in his voice. The scolding tone was only barely detectable, but the sehlat was intelligent enough to realize that he had done something to displease the Vulcan.
He looked at Spock with eyes soaked with guilt.
Had Spock been in the best of his condition, his reaction would have been different, but even after the meditation and the painting, he was too exhausted and in too much pain.
He sternly pointed I-Chaya to the back of the cave. The sehlat looked down at the berries, clearly tempted to eat some more, but Spock was having none of it.
With drooping ears, the animal made a sad little sound in the back of his throat and went back to his corner.
He didn't disturb Spock after that. He watched him paint, still puzzled over the odd patterns he was creating on the wall.
What a waste of perfectly good berries!
A/N: I apologize for updating this chapter so late. I was down with fever and that's impeded my ability to write. So apologize for any mistakes. I will proofread the chapter again later at night. This chapter is relatively light but the next one has a degree of angst.
Also, I am looking to join a community of other Trekkies where I can meet other people to talk to. I'd love suggestions if you have any.
Lastly, here is a playlist for part 1 of this story. It will also be posted on my profile. But I am putting it here as well :)
Please read and review. As I've said before, I love feedback and I love hearing from you; thoughts, concerns, criticisms, words of love... I'll take it all happily :)
The Playlist:
1. Amanda's Lament: Smaointe by Enya
2. Yearning for past- Sarek: The First Year by Tajdar Junaid
3. Spock's dreams: Celtic Violin - Down by the Sally Gardens - Strings, Harp and Tin Whistle
4. A Father's wishes- Sarek and Spock: The Seal Lullaby by Eric Whitacre
5. Amanda's faith: Cantique De Jean Racine by Faure
6. The plight of T'Pring: I am not yours by Z. Randall Stroope
7. Gurokh and Ishok- Parallel Lines: Sonbahar by Yansimalar
8. Ishok's torment: My Immortal instrumental cover by Lindsey Stirling
9. Spock's heart: Moonlight by Yiruma
10. Amanda's lullaby: You are Mine by David Haas
11. Sarek's love: River flows in you by Yiruma
12. Spock's Destiny: Aldebaran by Enya
13. The forgotten- Sarek and Amanda: A Proud Mother, from the Star Trek 2009 OST