DEGUELLO - Chapter 17
by Trish Bennett
James Kirk was not sure what he expected to see when he opened his eyes, but the ceiling of Sickbay was definitely not it.
He had vague recollections of Spock, McCoy, and the familiar smells and sounds of his ship, but he had dismissed them as hysterical delusions. His mind was still a disoriented fog of voices and images, but he knew with certainty that this was real. He was home. It was finally over.
The realization was an exhilarating experience. But even that was quickly replaced by nagging questions and doubts. How could he have possibly escaped a situation in which even he had given up hope?
Kirk started to rise, but the action was a bit more demanding than he had expected. He laid back, silently summoning his strength, then attempted the movement again.
"I wouldn't recommend that, Jim," came a voice from the doorway.
Kirk froze for just a moment, then finally pushed himself up to a sitting position. His whole body ached, but at least it was tolerable now. His head was pounding.
He exhaled heavily, only then realizing that he had been holding his breath. He looked at the ship's surgeon who was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. At that moment, McCoy's haggard face was the most beautiful sight Kirk had ever seen.
"Bones!" he said, relief flooding his voice, but a sudden wave of nausea and dizziness quickly dispelled it. He cringed and began to knead his forehead with stiff fingers. "What the hell did you give me?"
"What do you care?" McCoy replied, finally moving into the room. "It worked, didn't it?"
The Captain's foggy memory was beginning to clear, and a disturbing image hit him with shocking clarity. He looked the Doctor hard in the eye.
"Why didn't you clear the corridor?"
The question was so blunt, so completely out of the blue, that McCoy was taken aback for a moment. He stared incredulously at Kirk.
"Wha...?"
"Dammit, Bones, you know how I feel about that! A good commander doesn't show weakness to his crew." There was genuine anger in his voice as he recalled the inquisitive eyes in the corridor. "The path to Sickbay looked like a cadet review!"
McCoy, who usually ignored the Captain's tirades and allowed them to dissipate on their own, looked as if his own anger was mounting to the point of matching Kirk's head-to-head.
"Whoa, just back up a minute!" His blue eyes flashed as he spoke. "Do you have any idea how close you were to death when you came aboard? I was just a little bit busy! And besides my almost daily job of piecing you back together, I have 430 other people to worry about, too."
Kirk's expression did not waver as McCoy continued, but he privately wondered if the Doctor would stop long enough to take a breath.
"I'm responsible for their morale as much as their cuts and bruises, and I'm telling you there wasn't one member of this crew who wasn't relieved to know that you were even still breathing! So forgive me, Captain, if I don't share in your embarrassment, but if you consider living through something like that to be a weakness, then you are sorely mistaken!"
Kirk's gaze softened slightly. "Are you finished?"
McCoy moved to sit down, as though the outburst had completely drained him. "Yeah, I think so."
"Good." Kirk heaved a sigh and quickly regretted it. His ribs were still tender against the pressure of the bandaging. "I'm sorry, Bones."
They stared at each other silently before Kirk decided to change the subject.
"So, what happened? How did I get here?"
McCoy stared at him in awe. "You remember the people in the corridor, but you don't remember how you got here?" The Doctor shook his head in amazement. "I think I'll leave the explanations to Spock, if it's all the same to you. But I swear, you have more lives than a terran cat."
Kirk looked around. "Where is Spock, anyway?"
"I hope he's sleeping," McCoy replied. "He's spent every off-duty moment for the past two days in here hovering over you...well, as close as a Vulcan can get to hovering..."
"Two days!" Kirk was astounded.
"Don't look at me. All I gave you were a few pain killers." McCoy gazed at the dumbfounded Captain. "You drifted in and out a few times. Don't you remember?"
Kirk closed his eyes to stop the throbbing in his head. It didn't help. "I thought it was a nightmare."
McCoy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess that about sums it up."
Kirk's eyes reopened to gaze into the Doctor's face. "What time is it? Do you think I should say something to the crew?"
McCoy smiled. "I think, if you call the bridge, the rest of the ship will know it in about a minute and a half."
Kirk returned the smile and slid off the edge of the bed. The instant his feet touched the floor, he knew it was a mistake. His knees buckled under him, and he would have fallen if McCoy's reflexes had been a moment slower.
"Dammit, Jim..." McCoy draped Kirk's arm across his own shoulders and half-dragged him to the table by the doors. He eased the Captain down into the chair. "Just because you're awake does not mean that you're recovered. You're going to have to take it easy for a while. I'm a Doctor, not a miracle worker, you know."
Kirk finally allowed himself to breathe. "Reprimand noted, Doctor," he rasped, then eased himself forward and flipped the switch on the table. "Kirk to bridge," he said finally, and was immediately relieved that his voice did not falter.
The cheer he received in reply brought a pleasant smile to his lips. He barely had a chance to open his mouth again before Spock's voice cut through the clamor.
"Spock here, Captain," he replied in his best Vulcan composure.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk continued lightly. "Do I detect a minor slip in my officers' decorum in my absense?"
Almost immediately, the background noise was reduced to a happy murmur. Kirk could only imagine the glare that the Vulcan must have given the bridge crew.
"Only briefly, Captain, I assure you," was his only reply.
"Very well." Kirk breathed as deeply as the bandaging would allow. "Spock, I'd like you to meet me in my quarters in...one hour. I'll expect a full status report."
"Acknowledged."
A chorus of good wishes followed Spock's reply. Kirk glanced up at McCoy.
"The minute and a half starts now," the Doctor said dryly.
Kirk thanked them before closing the circuit, then looked back at the Doctor. McCoy raised an eyebrow in the best imitation of Spock that Kirk had ever seen.
"What?" Kirk said. "No arguments?"
McCoy shook his head. "I'm too tired to fight with you about it. Besides, your quarters are already set up. My portable diagnostic unit has already been installed, and Christine is prepared to check in on you every hour on the hour if that's what it takes to keep you in line."
Kirk rolled his eyes. The Doctor was a step ahead of him, and he was mildly annoyed by that.
"Bones..."
"And if you have a problem with that," McCoy continued, ignoring the interruption, "you can just stay here."
Kirk studied the Doctor's weary face before replying.
"The only problem I have, Doctor...is how to get there."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The wheelchair McCoy had provided him, Kirk decided was actually quite comfortable, though it would have taken a while to master the control panel. Fortunately, since he had no intention of using it, it was an issue he would not have to confront.
It had taken the better part of an hour to convince the Doctor to get some rest. Only after repeated assurances that he would call if he needed anything did McCoy grumpily concede. Kirk was finally left alone, studying his face in the mirror.
He now looked a bit worse for wear since the last time he had enjoyed the privacy of his quarters. The gash in his lip was beginning to heal, as was the one over his eyebrow. But the deep crimson scars only served to highlight his pale features, and the bruise that stretched across his cheekbone radiated a deep blue hue. My God!, he thought. I look like the old American flag!
He almost jumped when the door buzzer sounded, and he quickly glanced at the chronometer. Spock was punctual as ever.
The Captain limped haltingly to his desk, swearing silently, and was finally able to ease himself into his chair. He looked bad enough already without having to appear completely helpless as well. After a futile attempt to cover his wrists with his sleeves, he finally gave up and said loudly, "Come."
The doors slid open to admit his First Officer, then obligingly closed behind him.
"Reporting as ordered, Captain," Spock stated crisply, but even his cool, aloof composure could not entirely mask the relief that shone in his dark eyes.
Kirk decided to play it his way. "Mr. Spock," he said. "Status report."
Spock moved foward as if on cue and handed the Captain the shift reports. He then straightened and clasped his hands firmly behind his back.
"The Klingon battle cruiser destroyed itself to avoid capture," Spock reported. "We were able to ascertain your location, and with Organian intervention were able to retrieve you."
The mention of the Organians came as a definite surprise, but a more pressing question piqued the Captain's curiosity.
"What of Kor?"
"Commander Kor was returned safely to the Empire."
Kirk raised his eyes to study the Vulcan's face. Not a flicker of emotion was apparent as he continued.
"The bodies of the landing party have been recovered. Doctor McCoy postponed the memorial service. He assumed that you would wish to attend."
Kirk's face clouded as he thought of the loss of Lieutenant Foster, and the grisly display of the corpse of Ensign Graham. And Tina...
A raspy "Yes" was all he could muster.
"Admiral Fitzpatrick is standing by at Starbase Eleven awaiting our arrival," Spock continued. "We should arrive in approximately six hours."
Starbase Eleven. That was where this insanity had begun. It seemed somewhat appropriate that it should end there, as well.
"The Admiral must be pleased to know that the Organians are enforcing the treaty." The Captain looked into Spock's face, but what he saw there was enough to shake his conviction. "They are, aren't they?"
"So it would seem."
Kirk's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's not much of an answer, Spock."
"It is the only one I can give, Captain," Spock replied flatly, his eyes focused on the wall somewhere just above Kirk's head.
The Captain knew the look. There was something that Spock was trying very hard not to tell him. And the knowledge sat like a stone weight in the pit of his stomach.
"Mr. Spock..." he said, and the Vulcan met his steady gaze. "Why does Admiral Fitzpatrick want us at Starbase Eleven?"
Spock's eyes did not waver. "I can only assume that the Admiral is displeased with my performance during this crisis."
Kirk continued to stare at him, and only after several seconds did he realize that his mouth was open. He closed it quickly and swallowed hard before he spoke again.
"Why?"
"I...disagreed with the Admiral over the proper course of action."
Kirk sighed heavily, resting his face in one hand to rub his tired eyes. "Spock," he said without looking up. "What exactly did you do?"
Spock shifted on his feet, almost imperceptibly. "According to regulations, I contacted Starfleet Command after our encounter with the Klingon battle cruiser. The Admiral ordered the Enterprise to pursue, but to hold position outside the Neutral Zone and await reinforcements."
The implication of his words was now disturbingly clear. Kirk sighed again. "You took the Enterprise into the Neutral Zone," he muttered in dismay.
"At maximum warp," Spock explained, "the nearest starship was seventy-two hours away. I knew that you were in grave danger and would not survive until reinforcements arrived."
Something in the Vulcan's tone made Kirk shiver slightly. "You knew...?"
Spock shifted again on his feet, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded vaguely uneasy. "I heard...or sensed...you, Captain. I was compelled to disobey the Admiral's order." He finally met Kirk's stunned gaze. "Do not ask me to explain it, Captain. I am not at all certain that I could."
"Spock..." Kirk began, trying to steady his voice. He was not entirely successful. "There was a point back there...when I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to die. But I thought I heard...or sensed...you, urging me to hold on." He forced himself to look into Spock's eyes. "It was you, wasn't it?"
"I cannot say, Captain." Spock's voice was unnervingly quiet.
"If that is the case, Mr. Spock..." Kirk said just as softly. "You saved my life twice."
The tension in the room was unbearable. He and Spock rarely discussed intensely personal issues between them, yet they were closer than family. They had never stopped to examine their friendship. It merely existed. And the bond between them ran deeper than either of them cared to admit.
Kirk could see that the Vulcan was just as uncomfortable as he was, and he decided to change the subject.
"Don't worry, Spock," he said, his voice noticeably stronger now. "I'll speak with the Admiral. I'm sure we can sort this all out."
"Worry is a human emotion, Captain," Spock replied with only the slightest hint of relief.
A smile played on the Captain's lips. "Of course," he said.
Spock breathed deeply. "If there is nothing further, Captain...?"
"No, Mr. Spock. You're dismissed."
"Very well. Good night, Captain." Spock turned and headed for the door.
"Good night, Spock."
Kirk stared intently after his First Officer for what seemed like eons after the doors closed behind him. It wasn't all making sense yet. He needed time to review the Enterprise logs, but for some reason could not bring himself to do it. Not yet.
The shrill whistle of the intercom cut through the silence, and Kirk's heart nearly leapt through his chest. God, you're jumpy tonight!, he thought as he reached out to answer the call. When he flipped the switch, McCoy's image filled the small screen.
"I thought I ordered you to bed, Doctor."
"I make it a rule never to turn in before my patients do." The Doctor sounded tired but happy. "Now get to bed, dammit, so I can get some sleep!"
Kirk grinned wearily. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely. Now, Christine's on her way to give you a hand, and you'd better not give her any grief. You do, and you'll answer to me. Understood?"
"Completely. 'Night, Bones."
McCoy muttered a grumpy "Good night," and the screen went dark.
Christine Chapel arrived right on schedule to help the Captain to bed. He tried not to rely on her steadying force too much, but his stiff, aching muscles made that impossible. He felt like such a fool!
"I haven't been tucked into bed since I was four years old," he told her as she eased his legs up onto the bed and pulled the blanket up over him.
She smiled. "Then I'd say you were overdue."
Kirk rested his weight on one shaky elbow and watched her busy herself with the readings from the diagnostic unit over his head. His anxiety quickly subsided as he watched her performing her duties, and he began to realize how childishly he was behaving. He also realized why McCoy placed so much faith in his head nurse.
Suddenly, Kirk felt very tired.
"If you need anything, just buzz me in Sickbay," she said. "I'll check in on you again later."
Kirk nodded with a faint smile and laid back on the bed. He was asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow.
by Trish Bennett
James Kirk was not sure what he expected to see when he opened his eyes, but the ceiling of Sickbay was definitely not it.
He had vague recollections of Spock, McCoy, and the familiar smells and sounds of his ship, but he had dismissed them as hysterical delusions. His mind was still a disoriented fog of voices and images, but he knew with certainty that this was real. He was home. It was finally over.
The realization was an exhilarating experience. But even that was quickly replaced by nagging questions and doubts. How could he have possibly escaped a situation in which even he had given up hope?
Kirk started to rise, but the action was a bit more demanding than he had expected. He laid back, silently summoning his strength, then attempted the movement again.
"I wouldn't recommend that, Jim," came a voice from the doorway.
Kirk froze for just a moment, then finally pushed himself up to a sitting position. His whole body ached, but at least it was tolerable now. His head was pounding.
He exhaled heavily, only then realizing that he had been holding his breath. He looked at the ship's surgeon who was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. At that moment, McCoy's haggard face was the most beautiful sight Kirk had ever seen.
"Bones!" he said, relief flooding his voice, but a sudden wave of nausea and dizziness quickly dispelled it. He cringed and began to knead his forehead with stiff fingers. "What the hell did you give me?"
"What do you care?" McCoy replied, finally moving into the room. "It worked, didn't it?"
The Captain's foggy memory was beginning to clear, and a disturbing image hit him with shocking clarity. He looked the Doctor hard in the eye.
"Why didn't you clear the corridor?"
The question was so blunt, so completely out of the blue, that McCoy was taken aback for a moment. He stared incredulously at Kirk.
"Wha...?"
"Dammit, Bones, you know how I feel about that! A good commander doesn't show weakness to his crew." There was genuine anger in his voice as he recalled the inquisitive eyes in the corridor. "The path to Sickbay looked like a cadet review!"
McCoy, who usually ignored the Captain's tirades and allowed them to dissipate on their own, looked as if his own anger was mounting to the point of matching Kirk's head-to-head.
"Whoa, just back up a minute!" His blue eyes flashed as he spoke. "Do you have any idea how close you were to death when you came aboard? I was just a little bit busy! And besides my almost daily job of piecing you back together, I have 430 other people to worry about, too."
Kirk's expression did not waver as McCoy continued, but he privately wondered if the Doctor would stop long enough to take a breath.
"I'm responsible for their morale as much as their cuts and bruises, and I'm telling you there wasn't one member of this crew who wasn't relieved to know that you were even still breathing! So forgive me, Captain, if I don't share in your embarrassment, but if you consider living through something like that to be a weakness, then you are sorely mistaken!"
Kirk's gaze softened slightly. "Are you finished?"
McCoy moved to sit down, as though the outburst had completely drained him. "Yeah, I think so."
"Good." Kirk heaved a sigh and quickly regretted it. His ribs were still tender against the pressure of the bandaging. "I'm sorry, Bones."
They stared at each other silently before Kirk decided to change the subject.
"So, what happened? How did I get here?"
McCoy stared at him in awe. "You remember the people in the corridor, but you don't remember how you got here?" The Doctor shook his head in amazement. "I think I'll leave the explanations to Spock, if it's all the same to you. But I swear, you have more lives than a terran cat."
Kirk looked around. "Where is Spock, anyway?"
"I hope he's sleeping," McCoy replied. "He's spent every off-duty moment for the past two days in here hovering over you...well, as close as a Vulcan can get to hovering..."
"Two days!" Kirk was astounded.
"Don't look at me. All I gave you were a few pain killers." McCoy gazed at the dumbfounded Captain. "You drifted in and out a few times. Don't you remember?"
Kirk closed his eyes to stop the throbbing in his head. It didn't help. "I thought it was a nightmare."
McCoy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess that about sums it up."
Kirk's eyes reopened to gaze into the Doctor's face. "What time is it? Do you think I should say something to the crew?"
McCoy smiled. "I think, if you call the bridge, the rest of the ship will know it in about a minute and a half."
Kirk returned the smile and slid off the edge of the bed. The instant his feet touched the floor, he knew it was a mistake. His knees buckled under him, and he would have fallen if McCoy's reflexes had been a moment slower.
"Dammit, Jim..." McCoy draped Kirk's arm across his own shoulders and half-dragged him to the table by the doors. He eased the Captain down into the chair. "Just because you're awake does not mean that you're recovered. You're going to have to take it easy for a while. I'm a Doctor, not a miracle worker, you know."
Kirk finally allowed himself to breathe. "Reprimand noted, Doctor," he rasped, then eased himself forward and flipped the switch on the table. "Kirk to bridge," he said finally, and was immediately relieved that his voice did not falter.
The cheer he received in reply brought a pleasant smile to his lips. He barely had a chance to open his mouth again before Spock's voice cut through the clamor.
"Spock here, Captain," he replied in his best Vulcan composure.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk continued lightly. "Do I detect a minor slip in my officers' decorum in my absense?"
Almost immediately, the background noise was reduced to a happy murmur. Kirk could only imagine the glare that the Vulcan must have given the bridge crew.
"Only briefly, Captain, I assure you," was his only reply.
"Very well." Kirk breathed as deeply as the bandaging would allow. "Spock, I'd like you to meet me in my quarters in...one hour. I'll expect a full status report."
"Acknowledged."
A chorus of good wishes followed Spock's reply. Kirk glanced up at McCoy.
"The minute and a half starts now," the Doctor said dryly.
Kirk thanked them before closing the circuit, then looked back at the Doctor. McCoy raised an eyebrow in the best imitation of Spock that Kirk had ever seen.
"What?" Kirk said. "No arguments?"
McCoy shook his head. "I'm too tired to fight with you about it. Besides, your quarters are already set up. My portable diagnostic unit has already been installed, and Christine is prepared to check in on you every hour on the hour if that's what it takes to keep you in line."
Kirk rolled his eyes. The Doctor was a step ahead of him, and he was mildly annoyed by that.
"Bones..."
"And if you have a problem with that," McCoy continued, ignoring the interruption, "you can just stay here."
Kirk studied the Doctor's weary face before replying.
"The only problem I have, Doctor...is how to get there."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The wheelchair McCoy had provided him, Kirk decided was actually quite comfortable, though it would have taken a while to master the control panel. Fortunately, since he had no intention of using it, it was an issue he would not have to confront.
It had taken the better part of an hour to convince the Doctor to get some rest. Only after repeated assurances that he would call if he needed anything did McCoy grumpily concede. Kirk was finally left alone, studying his face in the mirror.
He now looked a bit worse for wear since the last time he had enjoyed the privacy of his quarters. The gash in his lip was beginning to heal, as was the one over his eyebrow. But the deep crimson scars only served to highlight his pale features, and the bruise that stretched across his cheekbone radiated a deep blue hue. My God!, he thought. I look like the old American flag!
He almost jumped when the door buzzer sounded, and he quickly glanced at the chronometer. Spock was punctual as ever.
The Captain limped haltingly to his desk, swearing silently, and was finally able to ease himself into his chair. He looked bad enough already without having to appear completely helpless as well. After a futile attempt to cover his wrists with his sleeves, he finally gave up and said loudly, "Come."
The doors slid open to admit his First Officer, then obligingly closed behind him.
"Reporting as ordered, Captain," Spock stated crisply, but even his cool, aloof composure could not entirely mask the relief that shone in his dark eyes.
Kirk decided to play it his way. "Mr. Spock," he said. "Status report."
Spock moved foward as if on cue and handed the Captain the shift reports. He then straightened and clasped his hands firmly behind his back.
"The Klingon battle cruiser destroyed itself to avoid capture," Spock reported. "We were able to ascertain your location, and with Organian intervention were able to retrieve you."
The mention of the Organians came as a definite surprise, but a more pressing question piqued the Captain's curiosity.
"What of Kor?"
"Commander Kor was returned safely to the Empire."
Kirk raised his eyes to study the Vulcan's face. Not a flicker of emotion was apparent as he continued.
"The bodies of the landing party have been recovered. Doctor McCoy postponed the memorial service. He assumed that you would wish to attend."
Kirk's face clouded as he thought of the loss of Lieutenant Foster, and the grisly display of the corpse of Ensign Graham. And Tina...
A raspy "Yes" was all he could muster.
"Admiral Fitzpatrick is standing by at Starbase Eleven awaiting our arrival," Spock continued. "We should arrive in approximately six hours."
Starbase Eleven. That was where this insanity had begun. It seemed somewhat appropriate that it should end there, as well.
"The Admiral must be pleased to know that the Organians are enforcing the treaty." The Captain looked into Spock's face, but what he saw there was enough to shake his conviction. "They are, aren't they?"
"So it would seem."
Kirk's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's not much of an answer, Spock."
"It is the only one I can give, Captain," Spock replied flatly, his eyes focused on the wall somewhere just above Kirk's head.
The Captain knew the look. There was something that Spock was trying very hard not to tell him. And the knowledge sat like a stone weight in the pit of his stomach.
"Mr. Spock..." he said, and the Vulcan met his steady gaze. "Why does Admiral Fitzpatrick want us at Starbase Eleven?"
Spock's eyes did not waver. "I can only assume that the Admiral is displeased with my performance during this crisis."
Kirk continued to stare at him, and only after several seconds did he realize that his mouth was open. He closed it quickly and swallowed hard before he spoke again.
"Why?"
"I...disagreed with the Admiral over the proper course of action."
Kirk sighed heavily, resting his face in one hand to rub his tired eyes. "Spock," he said without looking up. "What exactly did you do?"
Spock shifted on his feet, almost imperceptibly. "According to regulations, I contacted Starfleet Command after our encounter with the Klingon battle cruiser. The Admiral ordered the Enterprise to pursue, but to hold position outside the Neutral Zone and await reinforcements."
The implication of his words was now disturbingly clear. Kirk sighed again. "You took the Enterprise into the Neutral Zone," he muttered in dismay.
"At maximum warp," Spock explained, "the nearest starship was seventy-two hours away. I knew that you were in grave danger and would not survive until reinforcements arrived."
Something in the Vulcan's tone made Kirk shiver slightly. "You knew...?"
Spock shifted again on his feet, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded vaguely uneasy. "I heard...or sensed...you, Captain. I was compelled to disobey the Admiral's order." He finally met Kirk's stunned gaze. "Do not ask me to explain it, Captain. I am not at all certain that I could."
"Spock..." Kirk began, trying to steady his voice. He was not entirely successful. "There was a point back there...when I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to die. But I thought I heard...or sensed...you, urging me to hold on." He forced himself to look into Spock's eyes. "It was you, wasn't it?"
"I cannot say, Captain." Spock's voice was unnervingly quiet.
"If that is the case, Mr. Spock..." Kirk said just as softly. "You saved my life twice."
The tension in the room was unbearable. He and Spock rarely discussed intensely personal issues between them, yet they were closer than family. They had never stopped to examine their friendship. It merely existed. And the bond between them ran deeper than either of them cared to admit.
Kirk could see that the Vulcan was just as uncomfortable as he was, and he decided to change the subject.
"Don't worry, Spock," he said, his voice noticeably stronger now. "I'll speak with the Admiral. I'm sure we can sort this all out."
"Worry is a human emotion, Captain," Spock replied with only the slightest hint of relief.
A smile played on the Captain's lips. "Of course," he said.
Spock breathed deeply. "If there is nothing further, Captain...?"
"No, Mr. Spock. You're dismissed."
"Very well. Good night, Captain." Spock turned and headed for the door.
"Good night, Spock."
Kirk stared intently after his First Officer for what seemed like eons after the doors closed behind him. It wasn't all making sense yet. He needed time to review the Enterprise logs, but for some reason could not bring himself to do it. Not yet.
The shrill whistle of the intercom cut through the silence, and Kirk's heart nearly leapt through his chest. God, you're jumpy tonight!, he thought as he reached out to answer the call. When he flipped the switch, McCoy's image filled the small screen.
"I thought I ordered you to bed, Doctor."
"I make it a rule never to turn in before my patients do." The Doctor sounded tired but happy. "Now get to bed, dammit, so I can get some sleep!"
Kirk grinned wearily. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely. Now, Christine's on her way to give you a hand, and you'd better not give her any grief. You do, and you'll answer to me. Understood?"
"Completely. 'Night, Bones."
McCoy muttered a grumpy "Good night," and the screen went dark.
Christine Chapel arrived right on schedule to help the Captain to bed. He tried not to rely on her steadying force too much, but his stiff, aching muscles made that impossible. He felt like such a fool!
"I haven't been tucked into bed since I was four years old," he told her as she eased his legs up onto the bed and pulled the blanket up over him.
She smiled. "Then I'd say you were overdue."
Kirk rested his weight on one shaky elbow and watched her busy herself with the readings from the diagnostic unit over his head. His anxiety quickly subsided as he watched her performing her duties, and he began to realize how childishly he was behaving. He also realized why McCoy placed so much faith in his head nurse.
Suddenly, Kirk felt very tired.
"If you need anything, just buzz me in Sickbay," she said. "I'll check in on you again later."
Kirk nodded with a faint smile and laid back on the bed. He was asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow.