"Captain. I had wondered when you would visit."

Kirk allowed himself a sigh of relief; Spock seemed remarkably lucid for a medicated half-Vulcan with an alien flu. Despite biofunction monitors pulsing in the background, his voice was clear and calm, just as the Captain was used to.

Kirk pulled shut the curtain separating the Spock's bed from the others in the bay; McCoy had lectured him more than once about leaving curtains open when he visited his crew members. "You knew I'd show up?"

"Seeing as I have observed you visit every one of your crewmembers in Sickbay in the past, logic would only dictate that you would come to visit me." Spock turned his head to look at his visitor. "And before you upset yourself, Captain, I assure you I am doing fine. Dr. McCoy is more than equipped to care for me, and I trust him completely."

"As do I." Kirk watched the biofunction monitor with great intent, although he could make nothing of its readings. "I have no doubt you'll be out of here in no time."

"It will be longer than you would like, Captain," Spock cautioned. "As Dr. McCoy has likely already informed you, I think it would be to the benefit of the crew that I remain awake even during this time of illness."

Kirk made himself comfortable on a nearby stool, leaning against a bedside table. "Yeah, what's with that?"

"Though my people's ability to heal in a self-induced trance is powerful," Spock explained, "it does involve the maintenance of a near-comatose state. And I do not believe it to be logical, Captain, that I, as First Officer, should knowingly induce unconsciousness in myself when there are other, equally reliable options available which allow me to remain awake and alert."

Kirk chuckled. "Boy, your brain sure hasn't left you."

"My intellectual capacity remains perfectly intact, Captain. The virus I have contracted does not affect neurological function." Spock closed his eyes for a moment. "Although, I must admit that these lights are much brighter than I remembered, and the effects on my sensory processing are noticeable."

"Is that your way of saying you have a headache?" As fond as he was of his First Officer, Kirk did often find himself wishing he'd speak in more understandable language.

"No, Captain, I am able to transcend the sensation of physical pain," Spock corrected him. "But the Vulcan system of sensory processing is much more sensitive than that of Terrans, and these lights…they are brighter than my systems can tolerate at the moment. And sensory information cannot be ignored."

"You know, Bones'll be able to treat you a whole lot better if you'd stop making yourself impervious to pain." Kirk figured he'd say it before McCoy got around to it; the good doctor was notorious on the Enterprise for grilling patients about their pain level until he felt he'd received an honest answer.

"I understand, Captain. I assure you that my responses to questioning about my symptoms and sensations are…different, in the presence of a licensed medical professional." Spock coughed quietly, laying an arm over his eyes to shield them from the fluorescent beams of the Sickbay lights.

"Are they?" That worried Kirk; he'd had the feeling that Spock was worse off than he was letting on. And, too, he was frustrated; why couldn't his First Officer just be honest with him, like everyone else was?

"I sense your anxiety, Captain," Spock assured him, "and I understand your concerns. As Captain, you are in charge of my safety; it is only logical that you be worried."

"I am aware of the logicality of my worry, Spock." Kirk rose from his perch on the stool. He briefly wondered if Spock even knew what worry was, what it felt like. How it could consume you without warning and refuse to let go. "But I have come down here to ascertain how you're feeling, and I do wish you'd tell me. Honestly."

"My only complaints are that I am tired, and my muscles are slightly weak," Spock admitted. "The pain is minimal, though the lighting is not ideal."

"Well, that's...good, I guess." Kirk sighed heavily as he looked down at his First Officer's lanky frame on the Sickbay bed. "I'll ask Bones to turn the lights down for you."

"Captain, I am well-equipped to request that of him myself," Spock replied. He coughed again. "I must remind you, Captain, not to let your emotions surpass your thinking. I have observed your skill in commanding this vessel, and it would be illogical for you to waver even during my temporary absence."

"Spock…" Kirk trailed off before he could come up with what he wanted to say. That was Spock's way of telling him not to worry about him. "Very well, Mr. Spock. I'll do my best not to worry."

"That is most logical, Captain." Another cough. "As is the idea that you should now return to the Bridge. You see that I am in good care."

"Yes, Spock, I see." As he started to exit the bay, Kirk had to fight the urge not to reach over and give his friend a hug, a pat on the shoulder, a handshake – anything. It was not proper, by Vulcan custom. And besides, McCoy preferred the absence of such gestures in his Sickbay, for the patient's sake. "I hope you get to feeling better."

"As I have stated, I have no doubt that I will. But thank you, Captain."

As he strode out, past McCoy's office, and back down the corridor to the Bridge, Kirk set his mind in motion. As many times as Spock had saved him, gotten him out of trouble, he would find a way to help. Something, anything, for an ailing comrade.