Chapter 7
Going back to the bridge, Jim thought about what just happened. Bones knew he was unwell. And apparently Spock too, since he said, 'We are worried', not 'I am worried'. Perhaps his pain slip into the bond? He thought he hid the pain, the nausea and the general unsteady fever he had pretty well. He was sick, that was for sure. No one throws up every meal they had for days on end. And he too saw his dark circles. He could never find a way to keep himself warm enough. Yes, he would be going to see the good, charming doctor. It was only fair to him and Spock. Plus, the captain must give the example of believing in the doctors onboard.
Suddenly, a very bad bout of dizziness hit him, hard. He leant against the corridor walls, trying not to fall. He breathed deeper, keeping his eyes closed. He needed somewhere to rest before going to the bridge or Spock, in his present state, would carry him directly to the sickbay. Throwing himself in the nearest Jeffrey tube, he hid inside, and he promptly passed out. He arrived ten minutes late.
"Everything good, captain? You are …" started Spock, but Kirk, waved his hand slightly to stop him.
"I know, Mr Spock, I'm late. I was caught talking with Lt Larsen about some engineering ideas, I won't do it again." He then moved closer to his chair, sitting on it. Spock looked at him quizzically, but he said nothing, watching the young captain picking up a PADD and immersing himself in reading it.
Kirk was biting his stylus nervously. The shift was almost over. He was not excited to go to the sickbay. He didn't fear the people inside. No. Cross that. Since he had to remain in the hospital for several months in the aftermath of the terrible events that occurred on Tarsus IV, he feared medicines. AND the machines in hospitals. AND the hypos. He could not deny that. It made him feel powerless, exposed. Bones had been the first doctor in his history that he could trust. But that little voice in the back of his mind was always whispering to him to run far away. He tried not to listen to that little voice. Instead, lowering his mental shields, he telepathically asked his husband what he should do at the end of the shift. He could detect Spock's surprise about such a question. He was being a shitty husband right now; neglecting the Vulcan in the past weeks. But he was glad that apparently the scientist had to finish some project in the science lab. Sending his love back through the bond, he noted that the time was up. Sadly, he removed himself from the chair, he went for the turbo lift, not looking forward for the lecture he will definitely receive from the doctor.
The doors of the sickbay opened with the usual whoosh. He expected Bones to be the one cheering him. Or scolding him. His lucky stars were with him today! Dr M'Benga greeted him.
"Good morning, Sir. How can I help you today? Or were you looking for Dr McCoy? Because he is operating on Lt Harson from Engineering. She fell from a Jeffrey tube and broke her knee."
"No worries, Dr M'Benga, thanks, I was here just to have a little chat with Bones. The crew come first. Have a good day." YES! He was definitely lucky today. He did not feel great at the moment, so instead he went to the gym as usual and went straight to his quarters.
"Computer, raise temperature by 5 degrees." He undressed, trembling, and went directly for the shower. HOT. The hotter, the better. Inside the shower, he leant his forehead against the wall behind the hot water, trying to relax a bit. Blame it on the humidity. Blame it on the sudden movement he made to exit the shower. He had no clue. But James Kirk, once again, passed out, with barely enough time to cover himself with a towel.
Spock felt uneasy in the lab. He didn't get any reply from Dr McCoy about Jim's visit. And it was already 18:20. He contacted Jim in their quartes, to no avail. He then contacted sickbay, asking for McCoy. A nurse informed him that the doctor had been in surgery for the last two hours and asked if he needed something. He thanked her fast. He couldn't reach Jim through the bond. He was definitely alarmed.
He sprinted through the corridors of the ship. Surprised crew members watched him run as a mad man (or better, Vulcan). In front of his quarters, he digited the code fast, retributed with the whoosh of the door opening. The living room was dark, the lights only at 20%. He could see Jim's discarded clothes on the floor.
"Jim?" He called. He got no reply. He moved into the bedroom. He saw that the lights in the bathroom were on. He called again. "Ashayam?" He moved closer so the door would open. And then, at that very moment, his body froze.