"It's as I suspected," Dr. McCoy said, taking notes on his PADD. "You're exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder."
"Really?" Kirk asked.
"Yes, really, Jim," Bones replied with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Frankly, I wouldn't expect anything else. From what you told me, you not only watched Captain Garth blow up that girl Marta, but you also had to fight for your life when he looked exactly like you!"
"I suppose... that could be stressful on anyone."
Bones snorted. "Yeah, well. You're not gonna like what I have to say next."
"Go on, I can take it," the captain said.
"One week leave, and I'm referring you to a psychiatrist."
"Oh... but..." Kirk trailed off. "Can't you just fix it, Bones? Can't you just make me feel better?"
The doctor shook his head. "If only I could, Jim. We've made fantastic advances in human medicine but I can't just snap away trauma. And before you ask," he said, noticing the captain about to open his mouth, "the medication used on the penal colony is a form of sedative. It's not a cure-all and you saw what it did to Garth."
The captain sighed uncharacteristically.
"Listen," Dr. McCoy continued. "You're James T. Kirk, captain of the Enterprise! If anyone can make it through the other side of this pain, it's you."
"Thanks, Bones," Kirk said, smiling a little. "That means a lot, coming from you."
