Kirk knew he needed to hurry; McCoy was waiting on him to return so he could go see other patients. As he toweled off his hair in the mirror, he could tell he was still flushed and his eyes read as tired. It didn't surprise him- he knew damn well he'd come close to dying that afternoon. It was, unfortunately, a feeling he was all too familiar with. He wouldn't have been phased at all by the day, were it not for what he witnessed after he recovered. When he threw his uniform in the hamper so he could shower, the sight of the green blood turned his stomach.
The Captain hated seeing crewmembers in pain, but even more so, he hated seeing women suffer. He'd never seen a Vulcan come undone in such a fashion. He'd never seen McCoy have such comforting bedside manner either. Then there was Spock, whose voice was even over the transmission, but he couldn't imagine what he must be going through. Holding his breath, he reported to Dr. Vida's room, unsure of what to expect.
"There, that should be better." Nurse Chapel placed Vivian's hand on top of her blanket, making sure to adjust the IV tubes. Dr. McCoy asked for her help getting Dr. Vida settled, seeing as she had on makeup, hairpins, and other things he didn't know how to deal with. Another woman could make sure she was comfortable.
"Nice place she's got here," He commented, trying to lighten the mood. It was a pleasant environment: little hanging lanterns, fresh flowers, and pink linens.
"Alright Jim, I oughta head back to sick bay. No visitors outside of medical staff, ya hear? Take this tricorder. If her temperature spikes, call me. If she wakes up and is in pain, call me. Matter-o-fact, when she wakes up call me anyway. Got it?"
"Got it Bones."
"And you, you get some rest too." He motioned to the couch where a blanket and pillow were set up, then pat his friend's arm.
"Will do." He nodded at his colleagues as they exited. With a sigh, he paced around the room. The tea set, and some of the other artifacts he saw looked like things he could find in Spock's room. He sniffed some of the bottles of cosmetics but avoided prying any further. At some point, his eyes settled on the woman in the bed. While her facial features were sharp, she had a softness to her feminine shape. Nurse Chapel had been careful to brush out her long hair too. She was striking, like an alien sleeping-beauty. He chuckled to himself, as he'd never considered his first officer to be a particularly handsome fellow, yet he somehow found himself married to the Vulcan Venus.
Remembering his promise, he took out his communicator, "Kirk to Spock."
"Spock here. How do you feel, captain?"
"Like I got hit by land transport," He shook his head, "But better than I did earlier, thanks to Dr. Vida."
"...How is she?"
"Well, she's sleeping now. McCoy got Chapel to help him get her settled. Some kinda drug's dripping but hell if I know what it is...She's gonna be fine, Spock. She's a fighter, that's for sure...Hey, since I'm feeling better, maybe I can come swap-"
"Captain, you need to recover as well."
He sighed with defeat, "I'll take a quick nap and then we'll revisit it, ok?"
"Agreed."
The low lighting, relaxing scents, and soft couch were enough to lull the captain. He slept like the dead for God knows how long and only woke with the need to use the bathroom and get some more water. Quietly, he went about his business, trying not to wake the sleeping woman. The bag that hung from the metal pole had emptied, indicating she would be up soon anyway. When he re-entered the room, he heard a slight groan, prompting him to alert the doctor- the OTHER doctor.
He anticipated McCoy would come in clanking around and grumbling, so when he arrived with a gentle knock and a soft smile, he was quite surprised.
"I'll look you over in just a minute." He nodded to the Captain as he checked out the IV bags, "Good Lord, Vulcans have SOME metabolism." The tricorder hummed over the patient for a minute. Sensing the presence, she swallowed and shifted. "Mornin' sunshine." He moved her hair out of her face, "How ya feelin'?"
"...Sore..." She exhaled.
"Yeah, that's to be expected. Hell, what am I doin' tellin' YOU that? Think you could get up a minute? Probably a good idea to make a pit stop, maybe get somethin' to eat." He helped her upright and out of the bed. "Got it?"
Holding to the wall for support, she managed to get herself to and from her bathroom. Kirk couldn't help but notice the periwinkle nightgown she wore- so different than the uniform he was used to seeing her in. Much like her wedding gown, it softened her, bringing the Vulcan look closer to human and the officer look closer to woman. He stared at the ground, both out of respect for her and consideration for her husband.
The doctor took a break from trying to figure out the tea set to help her back to bed, "Could you eat somethin'?"
Shaking her head no, Vivian blinked hard to attempt to rid herself of the fog that clouded her mind. She stretched her hand, grimacing at the IV needle, which she promptly plucked out.
"Uh Bones..."
"Dammit!" He ran over to his bag to get gauze to wrap her hand. "Now why'd you go and do somethin' like that?" She barely reacted to his work, seeming to sway back and forth slightly. "Alright, no IV huh? Then you're gonna have something to drink and a pain pill, ok?"
She complied, "I...Where?...He..."
"Shhh, lay back. Now's not the time for visitors. You need your rest, ok? Easy there."
No sooner than she laid down, her eyes closed again.
Bones moved to Kirk, again waving around his tricorder. "Your turn. How're ya feelin'?"
"Fine, just fine. Is she out again?"
"Like a light. Your temperature's still up a little."
"Bones..." His voice trailed off, debating whether he actually wanted to broach such a sensitive topic. "I want to ask you something...But then we're not going to talk about it again, alright?"
His tone shifted to something more serious. "Alright, shoot."
"I've watched you treat patients for YEARS...Your bedside manner has always been-well-your own let's say...But I've noticed, with Vida at least, you're quite patient...considerate...sweet even-"
"What are you gettin' at?" His brow furrowed.
"You care for her, don't you?"
"I care about all my patients and friends- you know-"
"You KNOW that's not what I mean."
With a sigh, he started packing up his equipment. "I don't know who wouldn't care for her, just a little at least. She's a talented physician...and an attractive lady to boot...I always like workin' with her whenever she lends a hand in sickbay..." For a moment, he melted, almost smiling. He snapped back to his own defense, "What's it to you anyhow?"
"I thought so...Listen, Bones, I don't THINK you would act out of turn-"
"I know she's married, Jim-"
"Married to our friend- keep in mind-"
"I'm not the homewreckin' type...Now if she walks out of her own volition, which hell, after this she just might. Then...then I can't promise you I wouldn't offer to take her out for a nice shore leave dinner."
Kirk groaned and rubbed his face, "I don't like this. Don't put me in the middle of something...Just forget I asked...And don't do anything stupid..."
Fortunately for Kirk, he was cleared to return to duty after twenty-four hours. When he turned to the bridge, he slapped the back of the captain's chair.
"Alright, that's enough of that." He teased his first officer, "I appreciate your help Spock. I can always count on you."
"Captain, I am pleased that you have returned to a state of well-being." Spock evacuated the chair in favor of his usual post.
"Spock, if you haven't had a break- go get something to eat, clean up, get some rest. You've earned it." Making eye contact, he urged him nonverbally.
The Vulcan picked up on the signaling and nodded as he made his exit. He did as the Captain suggested, stopping for a shower and a quick meal. Sleep, however, wasn't something he required as frequently as his shipmates. He wouldn't rest well anyway, without first stopping by to check on his mate. While he'd heard positive updates, some illogical part of his brain insisted he see her for himself. On the walk to her quarters, he reached out into the bond to request permission to stop by. Receiving no response, he assumed she must be sleeping. On the off chance she was conscious, he gave a gentle knock. Much to his surprise, it immediately opened- at least partway.
"Who-YOU." Dr. McCoy slipped out of the door and shut it gently behind him. He'd been peacefully monitoring a sleeping patient, but now he had to confront what he considered to be a deadbeat. "You've got SOME nerve!"
Spock's eyebrow raised as he took a step backwards. He'd anticipated the doctor was disappointed with his decision to remain on the bridge and would thus react negatively to his presence. "Doctor...if you'll excuse me, I'd like to see my-"
"Would you now?" He crossed his arms. "You were perfectly fine NOT seeing her yesterday."
"Must we have this conversation again? You were aware of my duty to the Enterprise-"
"I'm aware that you sat in a chair doing what Mr. Scott would've been perfectly capable of doing while your wife went through one of the hardest things a woman can- ALONE-"
"Attempting to provoke guilt-"
"You oughta feel guilty! She CRIED for you Spock! Did you not hear her?! Aren't you supposed to have some kind of mind link?!"
"We do. I DID hear-"
"You HEARD her and you did nothing?! I've got half a mind to slap you silly!"
"Lower your voice."
"You know the worst part of it all- is for some reason I'll never understand- she LOVES you! She could'da had ANYBODY but she picked YOU and THIS is how you treat her?! DESPICABLE!" The doctor spat.
Spock fought the urge to return his anger, and instead settled for a calm counterargument. "Your criticism is invalid given the absence of success in your own relationship history-"
Before the alien realized, the human made a right cross. The fist made contact harshly with the opponent's jaw, rattling teeth. The strike didn't so much as stun him as launch him into a counter-attack; he grabbed the shirt of his attacker and flung him into the wall with a thwack.
The thud alerted an orderly from a few rooms down who emerged to see the first few swings and call security.
The Vulcan quickly made a chopping motion to deliver a blow, but the doctor jumped out of the way and landed a second hit to his gut. He blinked hard, having hit his head on the wall, and realized he wouldn't be able to fight the alien for long. Spock, undoubtedly stronger, barely staggered at the gut punch. With a lurching motion, he caught McCoy by the neck and slammed him into the ground. He coughed and sputtered, his hands reaching up in an attempt to free his throat. His legs kicked wildly as his assailant.
"Commander Spock HALT!" A security officer announced, aiming a phaser.
The other two attempted to intervene, each grabbing one of the Vulcan's arms to pull him off the doctor.
The Captain appeared at the other end of the corridor, "What the HELL is going on in here?!"
"Captain," Spock swallowed and shook his head to pull him out of his rage.
McCoy gasped for air and rolled onto his side. Kirk knelt and helped him sit up before dismissing security.
"Spock, attacking a fellow crewmember-"
"Dr. McCoy- how do you say- threw the first punch...However, I should have recognized my superior strength and limited my reaction."
"What happened Bones?"
"I lost my temper. NOW he shows up, after all the hard stuff is over with-"
"I came to see-"
"Oh yeah, like she'll see you now?" He scoffed and wiped the blood from his busted lip with the back of his sleeve, "Besides, she's got enough sedative in her system to kill an elephant."
That was true. Vivian slept for the first day and a half, then rested another day and a half. The third day, she returned to work, burying herself in it to avoid sorting out her own overwhelming thoughts. She felt physically rested, but restless, and still a little sore below the belt. Her hand bore a green bruise from her IV. Otherwise, there was no physical evidence of what had occurred. As far as she knew, only McCoy, Spock, Kirk, and Chapel knew the full extent of her Rugalan fever. The rest of the crew was none the wiser, and she planned to keep it that way. She had no desire to be patronized or to face any more sympathy than she would already be subject to. Worse even, at some point, the Ambassador would want to know if he had an heir. She would have to explain, and while he would be rational, Lady Amanda would undoubtedly be hurt.
Vivian was unsure of how SHE felt about what had happened. She agreed to be married, knowing the expectation would be for her to get pregnant immediately. While she did eventually want to be a mother, she was hesitant regarding the time constraint. Even after she began experiencing the symptoms of earlier pregnancy, she was in denial, refusing to test for fear of seeing a positive result. In a way, she felt guilty. As illogical as it sounded, she wondered if her hesitancy was being punished.
The one certainty she experienced was disappointment, not necessarily at the loss of the pregnancy, but at what she considered to be the loss of her partner. In the months following their union, she noticed his distance. Despite having discussed it, she attributed it at least partially to his busy work schedule. In the back of her mind, she held onto the idea that he did care for her. The idea had since been shattered. In a moment of crisis, she cried for him, and he ignored her. In the days she spent in bed, he didn't bother showing up.
Kirk insisted he was bound by his responsibility serving as an interim captain, but she knew he could've passed the title on to someone else to attend to her. He hadn't, and that was his choice. While it upset her, angered her even, at first, after days of meditation and Vulcan discipline practices, she'd become numb to it. Most of the time, isolated in her room, had been spent weakening their mental bond and building a metaphorical mental wall to keep him out. She was even numb the day when he finally arrived in her lab.
"Greetings," Spock gave a slight nod of respect as he entered the room. His face was stone, but his energy was uneasy.
"Commander," She returned the nod, barely looking up from her work. "I find it difficult to believe your work brings you to my laboratory."
"It does not. I came to see you- to inquire as to how you feel."
"Intriguing." He raised an eyebrow. "That was not something that interested you three days ago, two days ago, yesterday even."
"Incorrect, I frequently checked in with your caregivers. In addition, I attempted to contact you via communicator." Already, he was aware he'd behaved in a questionable manner. While he'd assumed she would understand his duties, it seemed she hadn't.
"I had no interest in speaking to you via communicator. My desire was to see you in person, however, that did not occur. I have since moved on. The time for discussing such things has passed."
When she spoke, he anticipated he would feel a sense of pain radiate from her- anger, or betrayal even- but he felt nothing. He knew, however, it was not that she felt nothing, but that she intentionally blocked him. This wasn't a natural distance; this was a deliberate barrier. It was now he who felt a sense of betrayal.
"I see. If you reconsider, I am willing to listen to your thoughts. You are welcome to seek me-"
"I assure you, that will not occur."
He bobbed his head in consideration of her words. "I anticipated you would seek me out at some point, given your research centers around inducing the blood fever out of normal intervals. My expectation was that, following your full recovery and return to regular hormone patterns, we might attempt conception again."
She raised an eyebrow and went to a cabinet, "You will not touch me outside of the appointed time. However, if you are insistent on producing offspring as soon as possible," She placed a plastic specimen cup on the counter, "It can be done clinically."
Rejection. The muscles in his face tightened. "Do you seek then to dissolve our union?"
"Do you?"
"No."
"I plan to maintain our agreement. We will produce offspring together. We will relocate to Vulcan. I will require separate living quarters within the home."
"You had previously expressed interest in sharing living quarters, even aboard the ship-"
"And that did not occur. I have since lost interest."
"You experience anger towards me."
"No, I experience nothing towards you. I have merely arrived at the logical conclusion that you are incapable of providing what I require in an intimate relationship. Therefore, our relationship will remain within obligation and formal bounds. Now, unless you have business pertinent to Starfleet, I would ask you go elsewhere and cease being a distraction from my work." Her words were sharp.
With a bow, he disappeared. In the back of his mind, he assured himself that this was a coping mechanism she was temporarily employing. He too could take on work as a distraction, but only after accomplishing one additional related task. After trouble scheduling, he finally made contact a few days later.
"Peaceful and long life," Spock addressed the couple in front of him.
"Live long and prosper," The male returned with a salute. "What news do you bring?"
"The information I bring is not the information you desire to hear, father."
Ambassador Sarek's face did not change.
Lady Amanda sighed, but kept composed, "Conception did not occur...We were all aware of potential biological complications, given that you are both of mixed blood."
"That is...inaccurate...Conception did occur...however...The Enterprise recently experienced an outbreak of Rugalan fever. Dr. Vida identified the outbreak, quarantined the infected crewmembers, and otherwise managed the situation. I can say with confidence that she is single-handedly responsible for having saved the lives of the entire crew, myself included...She unfortunately contracted the fever while treating Captain Kirk...resulting in a spontaneous abortion."
The women's composure lessened, "Is Vivian alright?! Poor dear...Where is she now?"
"Dr. Vida has since recovered physiologically, and Dr. McCoy confirmed that this will not impact future fertility."
"An unfortunate occurrence, but a fortunate outcome. Nonetheless, I grieve with thee." Sarek bowed his head. The last words had been spoken in Old High Vulcan. "I assume then, using her technology, you will attempt to conceive again as soon as possible."
"Sarek." Amanda turned to her husband, her mouth pressed in a firm line, "Is that your only concern? Our son has suffered a loss...Our new daughter mourns."
He listened to his mother chastise his father, making a mental note that if their disharmony continued, he should approach her for advice. More days passed, and he assumed he was giving his wife the time she required to process her thoughts. Still, he knew she made an effort to avoid him. He thought it might change following a dangerous expedition on an unfamiliar planet's surface. Word of such missions spread throughout the ship quickly, so he anticipated he might see her upon his return. Maybe she would even wait for him...but she did not. This meant, he would need to seek the help of another female.
"Spock," Amanda's face appeared on screen, smiling. Per usual, she dressed elegantly with shimmering robes and scarves. "A pleasant surprise."
"Mother," Seeing her pleased him, usually to the point of stifling a smile. Today, there was no smile to stifle. For a moment, he craved one of her usually unwelcome embraces.
"How's life aboard the Enterprise these days?"
"Productive."
"Jim and-oh what is it they call him- Bones, are they doing well?"
Dr. McCoy is busy interfering in matters that don't concern him. "They are. Both keep busy, I suppose." Why engage in small talk? It is not productive.
She nodded, before relaxing her smile a bit, "And Vivian?"
Spock exhaled.
"Ah, I had a feeling that might be what this is about." Her tone became more serious, "Has she been...taking it hard? Poor thing..."
"One could say that...I am unsure of her thoughts and or feelings."
"Hm...I'm sure she'll- well- I was going to say she would open up when she was ready...But I know you and I know she's so like you...I thought you two would've talked things over through the bond, you know, without verbalizing anything outright. When your father and I struggled with infertility, it weighed heavily on me. He became a little more attentive in response, slept a little closer in bed, brushed my hand with his more often than before- you understand...Keep trying, son."
While he appreciated his mother's perspective, her words unintentionally wounded him as they further highlighted his shortcomings. "That would be the trouble...I have not been 'trying'."
"Do you mean that you've withdrawn? That is a normal response to grief for some...I needn't explain the justification for your human emotions for the hundredth time...but I should explain a new justification. While you may not have dealt with the physical consequences of the loss, you experienced the loss too. You have every right to grieve."
"What I grieve..." He hesitated, always having hated indulging his feelings. Expression was difficult and vulnerability made him uncomfortable, "Is my relationship with my wife...She has withdrawn from me- even worked to prohibit me from joining with her through our bond-"
"That seems like a harsh response-"
"But one that is justified."
"How so?" Her brow furrowed.
He stared at the wall instead of the camera or screen. "When the outbreak occurred on the ship, she quarantined herself with the crew. I could not go to her. Dr. McCoy says that it is likely she experienced pain and bleeding for several hours before he arrived. When he did arrive and proceeded with treatment...she requested my presence. Because Captain Kirk had also been infected with the fever, he too needed to recover. For this reason, I assumed command of our vessel and still could not go to her. She reached out to me through the bond..."
"Go on."
"Confusion...and fear...I could not allow such emotions to inhibit my capacity to lead, so I did not acknowledge her."
"Oh Spock..."
"I believe this gave the false sense of abandonment or rejection...This intensified, I presume, when my duties continued to occupy my time for the following days until Kirk returned to his position. I did, however, frequently contact her caregivers to learn of her status-"
"But you didn't go to her? At all?"
"When I did, she was out of recovery and working...At which time, she did not wish to see me."
"I see...Perhaps starting with an apology next time would be wise...I understand you did what you felt you must...but I also have a great deal of experience being the wife who comes second to duty. It is possible to both understand and experience displeasure or even disappointment simultaneously."
"And how then does father manage his responsibilities with your needs?"
"Your father takes care to ensure that when he is not overwhelmed with his duties, I become a priority. This way, instead of always being second, his ambassadorship and I get to trade off...Is that comprehensible?"
He nodded, "That sounds...feasible. I appreciate your insight." Apologize. Treat her as a priority.