As the Vulcan had only been partially awake whilst M'Benga treated his injury, he had promptly returned to his slumber after pain relief was administered. For a few hours he lay there, during which time Uhura had fallen asleep also, comfortable in the quilting's warm embrace. Soon enough, however, the ill First Officer is jolted awake, fear marking his face. In a hoarse rasp, a single word manages to leave his throat.
"Nyota?".
Fortunately for him, the physician had heard his harsh murmur, and approaches Spock's bed, quietly traversing the smooth flooring.
"She's asleep right now, Commander. Would you like me to wake her for you?".
It takes the patient a few moments to recognise the person speaking to him; the doctor allows him the time to adjust himself.
"No, thank you...Doctor M'Benga. She too is in need of rest.".
The medical man spots the disquiet on the Vulcan's face, and places himself onto a chair at the side of the bed.
"I can see that there's something bothering you.".
"I...currently...do not wish to be alone...". An apprehension is nagging at the patient, his voice starting to waver.
"You need someone to talk to. It's alright, Spock...you can talk to me.".
The Vulcan's brow furrows a little, his face becoming slightly taut. Something within him is trying to escape, to break free from his shell. Something he needs to let out.
"As you are aware, Doctor, my people pride ourselves on emotional control. At present, I am...having difficulty...suppressing my emotions.". As he speaks, his voice quivers more, marked by that which is beginning to rise to the surface.
"I know...I saw a glimpse of that when I was treating you.", responds M'Benga in a sympathetic tone. "You're in a pretty vulnerable position right now. No one will hold it against you. We're here for you, Spock...all of us are. What are you feeling now? You can tell me.".
The fear and the dread which dwells within Spock is finally breaking through, his face contorting even more. These feelings are about to spill over the edge; the doctor can see this, and he gives him several moments to form the words.
"I...am experiencing...", he swallows hard, "...trepidation.".
"You're afraid.".
On the verge of falling apart, the Vulcan again makes a pained gulp, yet can't halt the tears that begin to well in his eyes. His voice breaks and his lip quivers as he utters his next words in an uneven voice.
"Yes...". He begins to quietly sob now, overwhelmed by those uneasy feelings that had been building up for all this time. "I...do not want to die, Doctor.".
For a while, that is where the physician remains, right by the distraught patient's bedside, offering what little consolation that he can. A gentle hand placed upon his shoulder, a few softly spoken words of sympathy; it isn't much, he realises, yet it's something, at least. Something to ease the ill First Officer's sense of loneliness in his struggles, perhaps. For M'Benga, or any medical practitioner, this is undoubtedly the most excruciatingly difficult part of the job. How does one possibly begin to offer comfort to someone so close to the end of their life, especially one so valued and respected and loved as he now residing on the biobed?
Eventually, the Commander falls asleep once again; the doctor rises from his seat, wiping away the small tear that had begun to form. As the hours continue to drag on, the physician tends to reports and the miniscule number of patients that trickle in and subsequently released soon after. Nothing much this night; a headache here, a bout of insomnia there. A sprained wrist. An upset stomach. Yet all the while, he glances at the Vulcan on the bed, wondering if he will awaken again. Be it in a state of confusion or coherence, the doctor will ready himself anyway. They all do. For Spock, they will be there to offer comfort and friendship and sympathy in his final weeks, his dying moments. This ship and her crew are his family now, and they will make certain that he does not die alone.
It isn't until another figure wanders into the Medbay that M'Benga realises just how much time had passed. The physician blinks with a realisation: is it really the end of the shift? It would seem so, as this new presence is none other than Doctor McCoy, followed by a trickle of his shift's nursing staff. Approaching the freshly-awakened man, M'Benga exchanges with him solemn words about their Vulcan patient and friend.
"He collapsed again, in the shower. Suffered a minor personal injury this time...I treated it, but...he's having a hard time, Leonard. Controlling his emotions, I mean. He, uh...was crying last night, admitted that he's scared.". He glances down, shaking his head. "He needs us...all of us. Even if it's just to sit with him, listen to him...".
"Yeah, I know...we'll be there for him.". McCoy glances at the friend on the biobed. "Thanks for the heads up, Geoffrey. You look like you could do with some shuteye.".
"It's been a... trying night.".
"I'm sure it has...you have a good sleep, okay?". McCoy gives the tired man a pat on the arm, before the two men part ways.
In this early morning period, Kirk is roused by a tiny chirping emerging from the small monitor atop the desk in his quarters. Groaning as he slowly rises from his bunk, he grabs his uniform. Who could possibly be contacting him at such an early hour? Donning his tunic and pants and quickly fixing his messed hair, he takes hastened steps to the desk. His eyes still bleary from sleep, he taps at the interface next to the monitor. Despite his fuzzy eyes, he can make out the visage of Rear Admiral Berger staring back at him.
"Admiral Berger, how can I help you?". The younger man tries to mask his tired face with a false smile.
"I've received word that you're changing course. May I ask why?".
"It's a personal matter of one of my officers, sir.".
"That may be the case, but I can't allow it.", the small face coldly states in the screen.
"Sir - "
"Kirk, I know you're doing a favour for a friend, but the answer is no. You are to remain on your current course. Are we clear?".
The Captain stares at the figure in the monitor, bright azure eyes beaming at the stony-faced Admiral. His fury is starting to surge, and he tries to keep it from spilling over the edge. It almost succeeds.
How dare you? He's nearly boiling over, his face flush.
"With all due respect, sir...one of my senior officers only has weeks left to live. He's the best damn First Officer in the fleet. I'm going to fulfil his dying wish and give him the dignified send-off he deserves.".
Fuming from his brief encounter with the Rear Admiral, Kirk makes the journey to the Medbay to check on his ill friend. As he steps through the doorway of the ward, he tries in vain to hide the ire in his body language. Having known the man for many years, McCoy has sighted his riled expression, and approaches him with caution.
"Jim, you look ticked off...you okay?", he queries in a quiet tone.
"Just had a call from Rear Admiral Berger. He found out about our course change. He doesn't want us to go to New Vulcan.".
"But, we're still going anyway, right?".
"You know me too well, Bones.".
"Damn right I do. You won't have any objections from anyone here. Hell, I'm pretty sure everyone on the ship thinks the same thing.". He glances at the patient, and the woman beside his bed. "We're doing this for them...for Spock.".
McCoy's eyes go back to his Captain, his voice lowered even more as he continues.
"There's more, Jim. He might be a little...rattled.".
"What do you mean?".
"Well...he's emotional, scared...M'Benga told me he practically cried himself to sleep last night. So, don't expect to see the usual stoicism from our Vulcan friend.".
"Thanks, Bones. He's going to need a lot of TLC from us, and we're going to give it to him.".
With a tap on the doctor's arm and another glance at his ill friend, the Captain paces across the ward. As he approaches the patient's bed, he shows the best brave face he can muster. This time, however, Spock seems more in control of his faculties. As to how long this momentary restraint will last, is yet to be witnessed.
"Hey buddy...how are you doing?".
"I am 'doing' about as well as one would in my situation, Captain. Currently, however, as you would say, I am 'keeping it together'.".
"Well, if you ever need to talk, we're here for you.".
"That is much appreciated. I...could not help but overhear your conversation with Doctor McCoy. I understand you had an exchange with - "
"Don't concern yourself with it, Spock.", Kirk interrupts with a wave of his hand. "This Admiral has been a thorn in my side for a while now. We're staying on our course to New Vulcan.".
"Jim...while I would normally object to your disobedience of orders...", begins the Vulcan, "in this instance, and with my present condition...I will use a human expression and say that the Rear Admiral and his orders can 'go to Hell'".
A few hours later, after the Vulcan had taken time to perform his morning meditation and simple physical exercises, he tidily consumes the bowl of plomeek soup that Uhura had brought him. During this time, and at his insistence, the Lieutenant had returned to her own quarters to complete her ablutions, donning a fresh uniform and fixing herself a light meal, before making her way back to the Medbay. His visitation brief, the Captain had long since journeyed to the bridge; after all, he has a ship to run. Yet, he can come and go as he pleases, to a degree. Captain's privilege, of course.
With the Commander now resting comfortably on his biobed again, McCoy takes a moment away from his other tasks to check in on his friend, and the injury he had sustained the night previous. Before partially removing the patient's slacks, the doctor, of course, gently informs him of what he is about to do, so as to not alarm him. The clothing carefully moved away, he examines the area, not knowing how severe the laceration had been. It's not that he doesn't trust the skill of the one who initially treated the wound, however, as Doctor M'Benga is highly trained and well respected by McCoy; it's more that there is only so much a dermal regenerator can do.
Thankfully, though, the injury is positively healed, and the physician reclothes the patient once again. Turning away, he is about to return to his other duties, when he encounters a sudden tug at the sleeve of his tunic. He swivels again to face his friend on the bed, spotting the level of fear in his dark eyes.
"Ri kal-tor du tev-tor nash-veh...".
(Do not let me die...)
Upon hearing this utterance and sighting Spock's distressed expression, Uhura steps closer to the bed. Again, the phrase is repeated, and she grips his hand to offer some small comfort.
"Sanu...ri kal-tor du tev-tor nash-veh...".(Please...do not let me die...)
Yet, before she can speak to ease his apprehension, the Vulcan winces with pain, a guttural yelp escapes his mouth. A droplet of dark green blood exudes from his nose, and he falls into unconsciousness. Her hand still clenching his, her eyes begin to water, and the doctor notices her anguish.
"Damn... What did he say?", he inquires in a soft tone.
"He was saying 'please, do not let me die'.". She is almost sobbing at this moment, with her lips quivering and her voice trembling.
"He's frightened, Leonard.".