This is it, the finale. But is it too late to save Spock?

Leonard McCoy hummed to himself, walking swiftly along the corridors on E-Deck, intent on his destination. He and Christine had just finished their work on the cure, and he was on his way to tell Spock the good news. All would be well.

Spock's cabin was quiet and nearly dark as he entered. McCoy turned up the brightness and carefully approached the bed. If Spock was asleep, there was no haste to wake him, not even for his cure.

Leonard smiled as he looked down at Spock. Judging from how he had fallen asleep, he must have been exhausted. He was lying half turned to one side, one foot and one arm dangling over the edge.

Fondly shaking his head, Leonard took Spock's wrist to lay his arm against his side. Then, he froze, horrified.

Subconsciously, he had rested his fingers above the Vulcan's pulse point. And he could barely feel anything. And the arm was much too limp.

Leonards look shot towards the door, something that had felt strange before only now registering. The door. The door had not been locked.

Cursing, he darted for the intercom.

"Sickbay! Medical emergency, Spock's cabin! Quick!"

For a second, he became aware of the slim but not impossible chance that of all people, the could-be-assassin had received his call and no medics would be sent out.

But, some short and agonising moments later, Christine rushed through the door, wheeling a gurney.

She barely acknowledged his presence as she ran a tricorder over Spock.

"Overdose of tranquiliser," she murmured, and jammed a hypospray that Leonard recognised to be full of inaprovaline, a stimulant, into his arm. Then, she scanned him again. "Better, still deteriorating. We need to get him to sickbay immediately."

Together, she and Leonard quickly transferred Spock onto the gurney, then wheeled him out and along the corridor as fast as humanly possible.

Spock's eyelids fluttered as they hurried towards the medbay.

"You're gonna be fine, Spock!" Leonard shouted over the sound of their running and his own breathing. "We're with you, it's alright!"

Spock only groaned and his eyes closed again. Christine's tricorder beeped.

"We're losing him again!" she cried, just as they rushed through the doors of sickbay.

Two of McCoy's nurses were standing by and helped transfer Spock to a biobed. The biofunction monitor showed exactly what the faint pulse and frantic tricorder had said. He was dying.

"Another 40 ccs inaprovaline, nurse. Have epinephrine ready, just in case!"

Another hypo was emptied into Spock's arm. He drew a shuddering breath, a desperate gasp.

In those brief seconds of tense waiting, Christine saw who had just entered and was hovering in the doorway. Jim.

She nudged Leonard.

"Spock or Jim? Spock doesn't need the two of us right now, and Jim needs to be prepared in case…"
She didn't finish the sentence, but Leonard understood. He squeezed her arm quickly and walked over to Jim.

"Bones, what happened?"

"He forgot to lock his door, and someone tried to murder him," Leonard mumbled. "I should have known he would not do well alone."
"If so, we all should have," Jim said, taking Bones by the shoulders.

In the background, the frantic beeping of the biofunction monitor sounded, accompanied by the similarly frantic order for 10 ccs of epinephrine.

Jim tried to ignore it, but both he and Bones were unable to avert their eyes. Under his hands, the Doctor quivered. It was hard for him to stand by and watch, but there was nothing he could do in there but get in Doctor Chapel's way. He stayed nearby, though, just in case help was needed. If it was, it would be a bad sign.

"Bones," Jim said shakily, "what did they do to him?"

"Overdose of tranquillizer or sedative. We don't know how much, but it's a lethal dose alright." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jim pale abruptly. "Hey, Jim," he said, trying to sound still optimistic somehow, "there's a chance he might live."

"And there's a chance he might not!" Jim growled, squeezing the Doctor's shoulders. He didn't know if he wanted to shake or hug him. "Give me a number, Bones. How likely is it I'll get him back?"

Leonard McCoy shook his head and looked away.

"What are his chances, Bones? Give me a number!"

A slender hand came to rest on Jim's shoulder.

"Try a hundred," Christine Chapel said. "He has a hundred per cent chance of survival."

Jim let go of Leonard so abruptly that the older man stumbled.

Behind Doctor Chapel, Spock's biofunction monitor beeped steadily now, and the Vulcan's chest was rising and falling peacefully.

"Come on, you two," Christine said and moved back into the ward. "He should wake up any moment."

The three of them settled around Spock's bed and waited.

It felt like he was drifting through cotton candy, slowly but surely. Strange to think of a human snack made of pure sucrose when one was dying. Dying? Who had said anything about dying? It didn't feel like he remembered it to be.

In his stupor, Spock laughed. To remember one's death was absurd. And yet, he could. Right now, this felt nothing like the burn of the radiation, but like a warm embrace, slowly enveloping him, dulling his senses. He let himself fall. He ceased to think and gave himself over to the allure of the abyss.

Then, something seemed to pull at him. Before he was fully aware, a hectic picture flickered before his eyes: Christine and Leonard bent over him. Why did they look scared? Why wouldn't they let him sleep? He groaned in protest and sighed as he slipped away again.

The abyss returned, the soft darkness enveloped him again. He fell, sank slowly to oblivion.

Voices, muffled and disturbed, sounded around him. He couldn't make them out and he could not care less. He heard another voice, the first voice that had mattered to him.

"I love you, Spock," the voice said, "and we are ever so proud of you. You're doing great. And you are so, so loved."

Then, to his chagrin, something tugged at him again, and his mother's voice vanished. Almost pulled above the surface, he did not fight the abyss as it pulled him back once more. But his mother's voice did not return.

He groaned in anguish as he was immediately pulled from the abyss a third time. And this time, he felt it receding, vanishing completely. His heart was beating frantically all of a sudden, his body felt heavier than ever before. Until now, he had not even thought about his body. Now, he was floating. Not sinking, but floating in a fog, disoriented.

And then he remembered he had been dying. And, instantly, with cruel clarity, his memory returned.

He tried to force his eyes open, failed the first time, groaned.

He tried again. A bright light greeted him. Illuminated from behind, a woman was smiling down at him. Blue eyes, brunette hair. The pressure on his shoulder was undoubtedly from her hand. Christine.

On his other side, someone grabbed his arm, and he heard a gentle whisper.

"Spock..."

Jim's face joined Christine's over him. He blinked twice, laboriously. Each little movement felt like an insurmountable feat, so heavy did his body feel.

The mere thought of speaking was exhausting. But he had something important to tell them. He had to tell them a name.

Looking up at them, he blinked again, a couple of times, then mustered all his strength to speak.

"Nurse..."

Over him, Christine and Jim exchanged a perplexed look. The Captain's grip on his arm tightened, obviously worried for his mental well-being.

Spock shook his head, as best as he could in his sluggish state.

"No," he whispered, staring at Christine in an effort to make her understand what he was trying to say. She had been so close to the solution of the case herself. He reached out to her, raising his arm in a clumsy gesture.

"Nurse Jenkins," he mumbled.

Again, the two exchanged a look of concern.

"It's Christine. Christine Chapel," she said, thinking she needed to correct this apparent mixup. "And I'm a doctor. Gosh, I know the two of us have the same haircut, but…" She broke off as, suddenly, everything fell into place. "Fu..." Christine interrupted herself and clutched one hand over her mouth. He wasn't confusing her, he was trying to tell her who had almost murdered him.

Jim understood at the same time, a triumphant look lit up his face, and he moved away to the closest intercom, to wrap up this almost fatal incident.

As Jim gave the appropriate orders to Chekov, Spock sank back into his pillow, satisfied that he had done everything he could, and the danger was past.

When Jim came back, he was smiling. "Everything's fine Spock. It's over. She confessed."

Spock nodded weakly. "Thank you, Jim."

"Well, I did shamefully little, Spock. It was you who told us to question Doctor Chapel's staff, and you eventually figured it all out."

"But you took care of me," Spock mumbled, "thank you for that."

"You would have done the same," Jim said quickly, and then, changing the topic, "Why did she do it?"

"She believed in the racial purity of the human race," Spock answered slowly. "You can imagine what her opinion concerning me was. Other than that, she did not seem to have a discernible motive." He paused. "It is possible that hadn't Dr McCoy come in, she would have killed me that night here in sickbay. I imagine she was growing increasingly desperate."

"I imagine, yes," Jim said curtly. He did not want to think about that eventuality.

But before he could dwell too much on the what-ifs and worst-case scenarios of this past ordeal, Dr McCoy approached them, equipped with a hypo and accompanied by Dr Chapel.

"There's even more good news, Spock," he said. "That's what I had come to tell you when I found you unconscious. Come to think about it, if we hadn't finished our work at that exact moment, it would have probably been too late." He halted as he realised that no one here appreciated this reminder. "Well, the cure is finished," he said, holding up the hypo. "Administered in several small doses, you'll be back to your old self the day after tomorrow, I guess."

"When can we start?" Spock asked.

Dr McCoy stepped closer. "Well, right now, if you want."

"By all means, Doctor. I see no reason to prolong this any longer," Spock muttered and waited for McCoy to inject him with the first dose.

Having done so, the Doctor stepped back. "Oh, and, Spock, why don't you help it along with a Vulcan healing trance?" he said. "It'll be quicker and you won't feel any of the side-effects."

Spock raised one eyebrow. "The side-effects?"

McCoy shrugged. "Nausea, mood swings, elevated pulse and heartbeat, general unwellness. Thought you had enough of that lately."
"Indeed," Spock agreed quickly, his eyebrow rising even higher. "I will gladly skip those."

Patting him on the shoulder, McCoy said, "Well, see you when you wake up," and left the room.

Christine Chapel approached his bed. Over her shoulder, Spock could see that Jim was still there, waiting at a distance.

"I'm sorry that I didn't see it earlier," Christine said softly as she sat down on the edge of his bed.

Spock shook his head. "It's quite alright, I understand."

"I took a liking to her," Christine continued. "Because she reminded me of myself when I was younger."

To her surprise, Spock nodded. "Yes, I agree. She seemed too innocent. Otherwise, you are nothing like her." He looked her in the eyes and murmured, apologetically, "I am sorry you were a suspect... I know you'd never..."

"I appreciate it, Spock," she interrupted, knowing how hard these things were for him. "Thank you."

After a pause that was bordering on becoming awkward, leading Christine to wonder if he wanted to be left alone now, he cleared his throat.

"I have just one request," he said drily.

"Yes?"

Spock fixed her with a stern look. "Do a background check on your junior officers before you teach them how to unravel me."

Christine opened her mouth to protest. "I didn't…" Then she noticed his smirk. "Oh. Noted, sir," she said, and then left to have Jim have the last word with Spock.

It was, more or less, literally just one last word.

"Well, good night, Spock," Jim said. What more was there to say after what they had been through, after everything had been resolved?

Spock nodded briefly at him, then closed his eyes. Seconds later, the biofunction monitor showed the customary fall of all biological functions associated with a Vulcan healing trance.

Jim got up, and he was halfway to the exit before he changed his mind and turned towards Bones' office, the direction in which he had seen Christine vanish.

She was standing next to Leonard's desk and looked up when he entered.

Jim exchanged a quick look with Bones and walked towards her, stopping some two meters away.

"Chris, what I did, I had to do," he said, calm but firmly.

"What you did," she hissed, her eyes blazing with anger, "was imply I could harm or even kill the man I love!"

She realised what she had said and sat down heavily in Leonard's second chair.

Jim smiled and came closer, leaning against the desk next to her. "After all this time, your feelings are still the same?" he asked.

He flinched as Christine hit the desktop next to him with her hand. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, "of course they're not!"

She opened her mouth to explain, but then decided against outlining the change in her feelings for Spock over the years. She was already shouting at her superior officer as it was.

Looking truly guilty now, seeing how much he had upset her, Jim gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry, Christine. Truly."

She nodded and sighed heavily. "Thank you. But you are right. It was what you had to do, maybe it was even logical." She looked up at him, and added, with a last look of reproach, "Even if its execution was clumsy."

She stood up, bade the two of them goodbye, and left the room.

"You deserved that," McCoy mumbled, looking far too happy for Jim's liking, but he could not disagree and merely shrugged listlessly.

Over the next day, Spock was improving continuously, the mixture of the cure and the trance working marvels. His friends were visiting every now and then, at a frequency he would, no doubt, have called illogical.

It was in the evening of the day after he had entered the trance that Christine saw him move his lips as she passed his bed.

"Christine. Hit me," he whispered.

She hurried over, mumbled, "Here we go again," and slapped him.

She slapped him again, then balled her hand to a fist and punched him, as hard as she could.

Steps sounded from behind her and the Captain and Leonard came to stand on the other side of the bed, watching her attempts at waking Spock.

"I think you need to hit him harder," Jim said.

"I just…Can't..." she gasped. "Does one of you boys want to have a go?"

"Yeah, let me," Leonard said, a little too quickly.

After a couple of punches by Leonard, Spock's eyes flickered open and he caught the Doctor's arm before he could hit him again. He sat up and looked around, flexing his jaw.

"Welcome back," Christine said. "How do you feel?"

Spock sighed. But other than the last days, it was a sigh of relief. "Exceptionally normal," he said.

McCoy nodded and crossed his arms as he regarded Spock with a well-meant frown. "I hope you don't think it's that bad, being human, because it's been so difficult for you."

"As you said, I was not actually turning human," Spock said. Then, after a pause, he added softly, "As to your implied question, the contrary is the case. I have a new appreciation for humanity. Especially its lack of judgement and abundance in care. My experience was difficult, but not everything about it was negative."

Taken aback by this revealing answer, McCoy beamed at him. "Well, I never thought I'd say it, but I'm proud of you, Spock." He met the Vulcan's eyes as his gaze shot up to meet his, and smiled. "You were overrun by human emotions, your emotions, additionally to feeling ill all the time, and you're not running away from them."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It would be illogical to disregard their presence."

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" McCoy exclaimed, with a crooked smile. "Did I hear that right, Jim? Did he just say that human emotions are an important part of his character?"

"I believe he did," Jim said solemnly.

"I did not," Spock said, with feigned protest, trying to ignore the conspiratorial grin passing between Christine and McCoy.

Jim broke into a grin as well. "Lying, Spock?" he teased. "How the mighty have fallen…"

The End.

Thank you for reading this, I hope you liked it!