Chapter Two
McCoy sat in the corner, paralyzed completely, as Kirk stepped closer. His suddenly-silver eyes shone brilliantly, and McCoy realized he was trembling in fear of whatever his friend was becoming.
About three feet away, Kirk hesitated, and his eyes flickered back to brown- green. He stumbled, and when he looked up at McCoy, his eyes held no trace of silver or malice.
"Bones?" he whispered, and his eyes rolled back in his head as consciousness fled.
McCoy was instantly released, and he managed to catch his friend's limp body as he fell. He stared at the unconscious Kirk for a moment before remembering the sedative he had managed to administer.
McCoy decided not to call a nurse, and tried to lift Kirk onto a diagnostic bed. Almost instantly, he was assisted by a tall, dark figure who had appeared without fanfare. The two of them set Kirk down, and only once they were sure he was fully unconscious did either of them speak.
"How'd you know, Spock?" McCoy's voice was quiet, as if he were afraid of waking Kirk.
Spock gave him a vaguely amused look. "I could sense a disturbance gathering in Sickbay, even from several decks away, Doctor. I could also sense your immobilization. Had the sedative not taken effect at that moment, I would have rendered him unconscious." But Spock appeared to be shaken. Disturbed.
McCoy watched him stare at Kirk in silence for several moments. "What is it, Spock? You look troubled."
Spock flinched, ashamed that he was read so well. "I am....concerned. The captain was deeply disturbed by an event similar to this one several years past. I am not certain how he will react to this situation again, now that it is happening to him instead of his friend."
McCoy frowned, and recalled the conversation he'd had with Kirk right before the anger appeared. "He was yelling something about someone named Gary, and how they were so similar." He watched Spock for any reaction to that, and was rewarded when Spock shifted his stance slightly. "Who was he? Who was Gary?"
"Lieutenant-Commander Gary Mitchell," Spock replied. "Several years ago, he was serving aboard the Enterprise as navigator. He was one of the captain's closest friends. On a mission to the galactic barrier, Mitchell and several others were struck by an energy beam. The others died. Mitchell, however, gained extraordinary powers." He looked over at Kirk and lightly touched the younger man's arm. "His eyes had become silver."
McCoy's eyes went wide. "So that's what he was so worried about?"
Spock hesitated. "Not...precisely. Gary Mitchell began to show off his powers with ease, taking risks and endangering people. He had begun to think of himself as a god." He refused to meet McCoy's stunned gaze. "I convinced the captain to take him to Delta Vega with the intent to maroon him there. After an attack that rendered the entire landing party unconscious, the captain pursued Mitchell and was finally forced to kill him. His best friend, dead by his own hand." Spock's dark eyes were haunted, unseeing. "The captain beamed up, horribly beaten. He was taken to Sickbay and kept there for several days. Once released, he was still not himself. At the time I assumed it was because of his injuries, but I understand the psychological aspect now."
McCoy looked down at his friend, who was dead to the world. "He's carried that trauma all these years." It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
They both stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sleeping Kirk. Finally McCoy sighed, and turned to Spock. "Well, I don't suppose I could convince you to get some rest in your quarters..."
"The prospect is quite unlikely."
"I knew you'd say that. I assume you'll be staying here for a while?"
"Affirmative."
McCoy nodded. "Well, at least pull up a chair. He's not going anywhere for a while." He started to walk across the room. "I'll be in my office, going over the results of my tests on him. Call me when he shows any signs of regaining consciousness."
Before he went into the office, he glanced over his shoulder. Spock was still standing at Kirk's bedside, and showed no signs of moving, even to sit down in the chair near the wall.
McCoy sighed in resignation, and the door closed behind him.
~~~~~~~
The first sensation Kirk encountered upon regaining awareness was the overwhelming psychic presence of Spock. The dark spectre that was Spock loomed at his side, and Kirk slowly became aware of the Vulcan's hand resting lightly on his arm.
*jim?*
*?* Kirk's mind was too out of it to form words.
*are you alright?*
*...*
Kirk ran a mental diagnostic check. No pain; that was good. No discomfort. His muscles responded sluggishly when he tensed them, and his eyes refused to open. He felt as though he was drowning in syrup. He conveyed this sensation to Spock, and the Vulcan's concern was evident.
*you are under sedation,* Spock explained. *you were becoming violent, and the doctor was in danger.*
*!*
*do you not remember?*
The images were beginning to return, and Kirk shuddered inwardly. He had come *that* close...
*jim, i apologize for the intrusion. i will withdraw and summon the doctor.*
Kirk sent back an exhausted affirmation, and Spock's mental emanations reduced somewhat. Kirk's hearing was beginning to return, and he could hear the soft sound of Spock's boots on the Sickbay floor. Low voices spoke from the darkness, and Kirk recognized the catlike voice of Spock and the gruff tones of McCoy.
Kirk struggled to open his eyes, and was rewarded with stabbing pain as beams of light shone right in his eyes. He groaned, and sluggishly rolled over onto his side.
Almost instantly, the two presences were at his side. Kirk could sense their concern, and that scared him, increasing his pain. He began to tremble slightly.
"Computer, reduce lights by sixty percent," McCoy ordered, and the lights dimmed. And then he spoke to Kirk, his voice soft and caring. "Hey, Jim. You're okay."
Instead of being reassured, Kirk began to tremble even more. "Liar," he whispered.
He finally opened his eyes. McCoy and Spock were standing over him, looking concerned. When he lifted his head, their expressions changed to relief.
And abruptly, he remembered. "Bones! My eyes...the color..."
As if he had expected that, McCoy handed him a small mirror. Kirk took it hesitantly, and looking at his reflection. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until it came out in a whoosh. His eyes were hazel.
"Thank goodness." He handed the mirror back to McCoy. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"A few hours," McCoy answered. "How do you feel?"
Kirk considered that. "Very tired. Exhausted, even."
"What about your powers?"
Kirk tensed slightly, and then began reaching out with his powers. He inhaled sharply at the increased sensation of hundreds of minds, interweaving, brushing against his mind, chaotic...Kirk slammed down a barrier, blocking all those minds from touching his. He dimly realized that he was trembling again, more violently than before.
He slowly became aware of Spock's concerned voice, and someone touching his shoulders. "Jim...it's all right. The contact is no more. Please, Jim."
Kirk eyes slowly focused on Spock, and the strong Vulcan hands holding him still. "Spock?" he breathed cautiously. "What...what was that?" His head was throbbing mercilessly.
"You subconsciously reached out and touched all the minds on board," Spock explained. "Your mental patterns are not accustomed to such contact, thus pain."
"I...I've never felt anything like it before..." Abruptly, the world tilted sideways and began to go dark. Kirk swayed, and Spock caught him.
"All right, you two, that's enough." McCoy was at his side, easing him back into the biobed. "Don't overdo it, Jim. I'm keeping you here under observation for a while, until that power of yours dims down." A hiss of a hypo accompanied his words, and Kirk slowly slid into oblivion.
~~~~~~~
When Kirk awoke again, it was abrupt and painless. He immediately opened his eyes and sat up, slightly disoriented. He looked around for McCoy and Spock. Surely they hadn't left him there...
He frowned, thinking of one way to find out where they were. He remembered pain from the last time he tried something similar, but surely a more specific search would have a different result. Wouldn't it?
Kirk closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated. Almost instantly, contact was achieved. No pain.
*spock?*
*jim! you are awake.*
*obviously.* Kirk's mind-voice was amused. *where are you?*
*i am in my quarters. our good doctor has just departed in order to return to sickbay and check on you.*
*well, i'm up.*
*as you said, that is obvious.* There was a slight ripple of amusement on the Vulcan's part. *are you alright?*
*i think so. no pain this time, and i'm not tired anymore.*
*that is good, i believe.*
*how long was i out this time?*
*three point four nine hours.*
*always the precise one, aren't you?*
*affirmative.*
Kirk swung his legs over the side of the biobed, mentally switching off the motion alarm that would signal his departure. He transferred himself to the floor, and stood up a little shakily. He felt slightly weak, but that was all. No pain, no dizziness. He felt...almost normal.
*jim, what are you doing?* Spock sounded concerned.
*nothing,* Kirk lied. He rummaged around in a drawer, finding and taking out the small mirror that McCoy had let him use earlier. He looked at his reflection, noting the solid brown-green color in his eyes. Good. No change.
*jim, i do not believe you should be out of bed,* Spock said, sounding concerned.
*i'll be fine. trust me.*
*doctor mccoy will be harder to convince than i am*
As if on cue, the doors swooshed open. Kirk flinched and nearly dropped the mirror. Catching it just in time, he dropped it into the drawer and slammed it shut.
McCoy entered the room, stopped in his tracks, and did a double-take. "What in hell are you doing out of bed?!"
Kirk was guilty, and bravely trying to hide it. "Uhhh...I woke up a few minutes ago. I felt fine, so-"
"So you thought you'd release yourself from Sickbay," McCoy interrupted.
"Something like that."
The two stared across McCoy's desk at each other for a minute. McCoy finally broke the silence. "Jim, we both know that you are *not* fine. Get back in that bed."
"Bones, I told you, I'm okay. I don't need-"
"Who's the doctor around here?" McCoy was beginning to sound angry. "Get back in that bed, dammit, or I'll sedate you again and tie you to it!"
"What good will it do to make me lie down?" Kirk challenged. "It'll be the same whether I'm standing or not. Why does it matter?"
McCoy scowled at him. "I don't want you going psychotic on me and trying to blow something up. You need to be watched, *Captain,* so don't be giving me any off that bullcrap. You're staying here until that kironide power goes away, so get used to it."
Kirk glared at him, but he knew he had no strong arguement. He sighed, only then noticing that nearby objects were sliding away from him as if in a strong wind. He chastised himself for letting the power get so out of control, and began to build another mental barrier.
McCoy came forward and took Kirk's arm in his hand and hauled the captain across Sickbay, all but throwing him on the bed. Kirk didn't put up much of a fight; he was busy putting up a shield to keep his powers in check.
*jim?* Ah, so Spock was still psychically connected to him, was he?
*what, spock?*
*as doctor mccoy would undoubtably say if he were in my position, "i told you so."*
Kirk completed his mental barrier. Not strong, but enough for the time being. *mister spock, i do believe that you have spent way too much time around our good doctor.*
Spock seemed surprised. *of course, captain. contamination is inevitable.*
Kirk chuckled to himself, and McCoy gave him an odd glance. Kirk shrugged and said, "Spock." McCoy immediately understood, and snorted in response. *you sound like you're feeling better, spock.*
*indeed, captain. the kironide power has begun to disappear from my bloodstream, and my headache is diminishing with each passing hour. i shall soon be well enough to resume my duties.*
*lucky you,* Kirk grumbled. *why aren't you confined to sickbay?*
*i do not know, captain. it may be because you had a unique reaction to the kironide injection. your increasing power is rather alarming.*
*to the both of us, mister spock.*
*and doctor mccoy as well, sir.*
Kirk's guilt reared its ugly head again as he recalled what he had almost done. He glanced at McCoy, who was busying himself by taking readings from the overhead diagnostic panel above Kirk. "What's the prognosis, Doctor?" Kirk half-joked.
McCoy looked down at him and cocked an eyebrow in a way that reminded Kirk of Spock. "Well, the good news it that the kironide has finally slowed down its reproduction. I hope that's a good sign."
Kirk nodded, knowing that McCoy wasn't telling him something. "What's the bad news?"
McCoy sighed explosively. "I can't stop its spread through your bloodstream, and I can't get it out of you. And according to this panel, the kironide is playing havoc with your guts. Heart rate nearly double the norm, metabolism racing, body temperature elevated to nearly 102 Farenheit..." He shook his head. "Looks almost like the flu, but I'm not going to pass judgement. You feeling all right?"
Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but McCoy cut him off. "Never mind. You'd tell me you were fine even if you were dyin' of a heart attack or something." McCoy smacked his hand against the side of the bed. "Damn! I can't tell you anything with just a diagnostic panel. If only I could use my scanners on you..."
Kirk grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that."
McCoy snorted. "Hell, it's not your fault. It's that damned kironide. I almost wish I'd never had to do that to you..."
"Bones, it was my idea. Don't go beating yourself up over it. It was my suggestion, my order that made you give Spock and I the kironide shots. If it was anyone's fault, it's mine."
"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor. I had the authority to refuse the order on medical grounds."
"You had no idea the kironide would have this effect. It's not your fault."
"And you did know? Jim, you didn't know this would remind you so much of Gary-" McCoy bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that.
Kirk looked up sharply, shaken. "What? Who told you about that?"
McCoy winced. "Spock did. He told me *everything,* Jim."
Kirk's shoulders slumped in sudden exhaustion, and he turned on his side. "Gary..."
McCoy could tell that the young captain wanted to be left alone, so he quietly slipped out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Kirk released a whirlwind of grief and anger all at once. The kironide power channeled his emotions into physical action, and all the delicate instruments near him went flying into walls and floors.
Kirk was in the middle of it all, eyes tightly closed, fists clenched. His eyes snapped open, and for a moment the irises of his eyes were pure, cold silver...
McCoy sat in the corner, paralyzed completely, as Kirk stepped closer. His suddenly-silver eyes shone brilliantly, and McCoy realized he was trembling in fear of whatever his friend was becoming.
About three feet away, Kirk hesitated, and his eyes flickered back to brown- green. He stumbled, and when he looked up at McCoy, his eyes held no trace of silver or malice.
"Bones?" he whispered, and his eyes rolled back in his head as consciousness fled.
McCoy was instantly released, and he managed to catch his friend's limp body as he fell. He stared at the unconscious Kirk for a moment before remembering the sedative he had managed to administer.
McCoy decided not to call a nurse, and tried to lift Kirk onto a diagnostic bed. Almost instantly, he was assisted by a tall, dark figure who had appeared without fanfare. The two of them set Kirk down, and only once they were sure he was fully unconscious did either of them speak.
"How'd you know, Spock?" McCoy's voice was quiet, as if he were afraid of waking Kirk.
Spock gave him a vaguely amused look. "I could sense a disturbance gathering in Sickbay, even from several decks away, Doctor. I could also sense your immobilization. Had the sedative not taken effect at that moment, I would have rendered him unconscious." But Spock appeared to be shaken. Disturbed.
McCoy watched him stare at Kirk in silence for several moments. "What is it, Spock? You look troubled."
Spock flinched, ashamed that he was read so well. "I am....concerned. The captain was deeply disturbed by an event similar to this one several years past. I am not certain how he will react to this situation again, now that it is happening to him instead of his friend."
McCoy frowned, and recalled the conversation he'd had with Kirk right before the anger appeared. "He was yelling something about someone named Gary, and how they were so similar." He watched Spock for any reaction to that, and was rewarded when Spock shifted his stance slightly. "Who was he? Who was Gary?"
"Lieutenant-Commander Gary Mitchell," Spock replied. "Several years ago, he was serving aboard the Enterprise as navigator. He was one of the captain's closest friends. On a mission to the galactic barrier, Mitchell and several others were struck by an energy beam. The others died. Mitchell, however, gained extraordinary powers." He looked over at Kirk and lightly touched the younger man's arm. "His eyes had become silver."
McCoy's eyes went wide. "So that's what he was so worried about?"
Spock hesitated. "Not...precisely. Gary Mitchell began to show off his powers with ease, taking risks and endangering people. He had begun to think of himself as a god." He refused to meet McCoy's stunned gaze. "I convinced the captain to take him to Delta Vega with the intent to maroon him there. After an attack that rendered the entire landing party unconscious, the captain pursued Mitchell and was finally forced to kill him. His best friend, dead by his own hand." Spock's dark eyes were haunted, unseeing. "The captain beamed up, horribly beaten. He was taken to Sickbay and kept there for several days. Once released, he was still not himself. At the time I assumed it was because of his injuries, but I understand the psychological aspect now."
McCoy looked down at his friend, who was dead to the world. "He's carried that trauma all these years." It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
They both stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sleeping Kirk. Finally McCoy sighed, and turned to Spock. "Well, I don't suppose I could convince you to get some rest in your quarters..."
"The prospect is quite unlikely."
"I knew you'd say that. I assume you'll be staying here for a while?"
"Affirmative."
McCoy nodded. "Well, at least pull up a chair. He's not going anywhere for a while." He started to walk across the room. "I'll be in my office, going over the results of my tests on him. Call me when he shows any signs of regaining consciousness."
Before he went into the office, he glanced over his shoulder. Spock was still standing at Kirk's bedside, and showed no signs of moving, even to sit down in the chair near the wall.
McCoy sighed in resignation, and the door closed behind him.
~~~~~~~
The first sensation Kirk encountered upon regaining awareness was the overwhelming psychic presence of Spock. The dark spectre that was Spock loomed at his side, and Kirk slowly became aware of the Vulcan's hand resting lightly on his arm.
*jim?*
*?* Kirk's mind was too out of it to form words.
*are you alright?*
*...*
Kirk ran a mental diagnostic check. No pain; that was good. No discomfort. His muscles responded sluggishly when he tensed them, and his eyes refused to open. He felt as though he was drowning in syrup. He conveyed this sensation to Spock, and the Vulcan's concern was evident.
*you are under sedation,* Spock explained. *you were becoming violent, and the doctor was in danger.*
*!*
*do you not remember?*
The images were beginning to return, and Kirk shuddered inwardly. He had come *that* close...
*jim, i apologize for the intrusion. i will withdraw and summon the doctor.*
Kirk sent back an exhausted affirmation, and Spock's mental emanations reduced somewhat. Kirk's hearing was beginning to return, and he could hear the soft sound of Spock's boots on the Sickbay floor. Low voices spoke from the darkness, and Kirk recognized the catlike voice of Spock and the gruff tones of McCoy.
Kirk struggled to open his eyes, and was rewarded with stabbing pain as beams of light shone right in his eyes. He groaned, and sluggishly rolled over onto his side.
Almost instantly, the two presences were at his side. Kirk could sense their concern, and that scared him, increasing his pain. He began to tremble slightly.
"Computer, reduce lights by sixty percent," McCoy ordered, and the lights dimmed. And then he spoke to Kirk, his voice soft and caring. "Hey, Jim. You're okay."
Instead of being reassured, Kirk began to tremble even more. "Liar," he whispered.
He finally opened his eyes. McCoy and Spock were standing over him, looking concerned. When he lifted his head, their expressions changed to relief.
And abruptly, he remembered. "Bones! My eyes...the color..."
As if he had expected that, McCoy handed him a small mirror. Kirk took it hesitantly, and looking at his reflection. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until it came out in a whoosh. His eyes were hazel.
"Thank goodness." He handed the mirror back to McCoy. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"A few hours," McCoy answered. "How do you feel?"
Kirk considered that. "Very tired. Exhausted, even."
"What about your powers?"
Kirk tensed slightly, and then began reaching out with his powers. He inhaled sharply at the increased sensation of hundreds of minds, interweaving, brushing against his mind, chaotic...Kirk slammed down a barrier, blocking all those minds from touching his. He dimly realized that he was trembling again, more violently than before.
He slowly became aware of Spock's concerned voice, and someone touching his shoulders. "Jim...it's all right. The contact is no more. Please, Jim."
Kirk eyes slowly focused on Spock, and the strong Vulcan hands holding him still. "Spock?" he breathed cautiously. "What...what was that?" His head was throbbing mercilessly.
"You subconsciously reached out and touched all the minds on board," Spock explained. "Your mental patterns are not accustomed to such contact, thus pain."
"I...I've never felt anything like it before..." Abruptly, the world tilted sideways and began to go dark. Kirk swayed, and Spock caught him.
"All right, you two, that's enough." McCoy was at his side, easing him back into the biobed. "Don't overdo it, Jim. I'm keeping you here under observation for a while, until that power of yours dims down." A hiss of a hypo accompanied his words, and Kirk slowly slid into oblivion.
~~~~~~~
When Kirk awoke again, it was abrupt and painless. He immediately opened his eyes and sat up, slightly disoriented. He looked around for McCoy and Spock. Surely they hadn't left him there...
He frowned, thinking of one way to find out where they were. He remembered pain from the last time he tried something similar, but surely a more specific search would have a different result. Wouldn't it?
Kirk closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated. Almost instantly, contact was achieved. No pain.
*spock?*
*jim! you are awake.*
*obviously.* Kirk's mind-voice was amused. *where are you?*
*i am in my quarters. our good doctor has just departed in order to return to sickbay and check on you.*
*well, i'm up.*
*as you said, that is obvious.* There was a slight ripple of amusement on the Vulcan's part. *are you alright?*
*i think so. no pain this time, and i'm not tired anymore.*
*that is good, i believe.*
*how long was i out this time?*
*three point four nine hours.*
*always the precise one, aren't you?*
*affirmative.*
Kirk swung his legs over the side of the biobed, mentally switching off the motion alarm that would signal his departure. He transferred himself to the floor, and stood up a little shakily. He felt slightly weak, but that was all. No pain, no dizziness. He felt...almost normal.
*jim, what are you doing?* Spock sounded concerned.
*nothing,* Kirk lied. He rummaged around in a drawer, finding and taking out the small mirror that McCoy had let him use earlier. He looked at his reflection, noting the solid brown-green color in his eyes. Good. No change.
*jim, i do not believe you should be out of bed,* Spock said, sounding concerned.
*i'll be fine. trust me.*
*doctor mccoy will be harder to convince than i am*
As if on cue, the doors swooshed open. Kirk flinched and nearly dropped the mirror. Catching it just in time, he dropped it into the drawer and slammed it shut.
McCoy entered the room, stopped in his tracks, and did a double-take. "What in hell are you doing out of bed?!"
Kirk was guilty, and bravely trying to hide it. "Uhhh...I woke up a few minutes ago. I felt fine, so-"
"So you thought you'd release yourself from Sickbay," McCoy interrupted.
"Something like that."
The two stared across McCoy's desk at each other for a minute. McCoy finally broke the silence. "Jim, we both know that you are *not* fine. Get back in that bed."
"Bones, I told you, I'm okay. I don't need-"
"Who's the doctor around here?" McCoy was beginning to sound angry. "Get back in that bed, dammit, or I'll sedate you again and tie you to it!"
"What good will it do to make me lie down?" Kirk challenged. "It'll be the same whether I'm standing or not. Why does it matter?"
McCoy scowled at him. "I don't want you going psychotic on me and trying to blow something up. You need to be watched, *Captain,* so don't be giving me any off that bullcrap. You're staying here until that kironide power goes away, so get used to it."
Kirk glared at him, but he knew he had no strong arguement. He sighed, only then noticing that nearby objects were sliding away from him as if in a strong wind. He chastised himself for letting the power get so out of control, and began to build another mental barrier.
McCoy came forward and took Kirk's arm in his hand and hauled the captain across Sickbay, all but throwing him on the bed. Kirk didn't put up much of a fight; he was busy putting up a shield to keep his powers in check.
*jim?* Ah, so Spock was still psychically connected to him, was he?
*what, spock?*
*as doctor mccoy would undoubtably say if he were in my position, "i told you so."*
Kirk completed his mental barrier. Not strong, but enough for the time being. *mister spock, i do believe that you have spent way too much time around our good doctor.*
Spock seemed surprised. *of course, captain. contamination is inevitable.*
Kirk chuckled to himself, and McCoy gave him an odd glance. Kirk shrugged and said, "Spock." McCoy immediately understood, and snorted in response. *you sound like you're feeling better, spock.*
*indeed, captain. the kironide power has begun to disappear from my bloodstream, and my headache is diminishing with each passing hour. i shall soon be well enough to resume my duties.*
*lucky you,* Kirk grumbled. *why aren't you confined to sickbay?*
*i do not know, captain. it may be because you had a unique reaction to the kironide injection. your increasing power is rather alarming.*
*to the both of us, mister spock.*
*and doctor mccoy as well, sir.*
Kirk's guilt reared its ugly head again as he recalled what he had almost done. He glanced at McCoy, who was busying himself by taking readings from the overhead diagnostic panel above Kirk. "What's the prognosis, Doctor?" Kirk half-joked.
McCoy looked down at him and cocked an eyebrow in a way that reminded Kirk of Spock. "Well, the good news it that the kironide has finally slowed down its reproduction. I hope that's a good sign."
Kirk nodded, knowing that McCoy wasn't telling him something. "What's the bad news?"
McCoy sighed explosively. "I can't stop its spread through your bloodstream, and I can't get it out of you. And according to this panel, the kironide is playing havoc with your guts. Heart rate nearly double the norm, metabolism racing, body temperature elevated to nearly 102 Farenheit..." He shook his head. "Looks almost like the flu, but I'm not going to pass judgement. You feeling all right?"
Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but McCoy cut him off. "Never mind. You'd tell me you were fine even if you were dyin' of a heart attack or something." McCoy smacked his hand against the side of the bed. "Damn! I can't tell you anything with just a diagnostic panel. If only I could use my scanners on you..."
Kirk grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that."
McCoy snorted. "Hell, it's not your fault. It's that damned kironide. I almost wish I'd never had to do that to you..."
"Bones, it was my idea. Don't go beating yourself up over it. It was my suggestion, my order that made you give Spock and I the kironide shots. If it was anyone's fault, it's mine."
"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor. I had the authority to refuse the order on medical grounds."
"You had no idea the kironide would have this effect. It's not your fault."
"And you did know? Jim, you didn't know this would remind you so much of Gary-" McCoy bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that.
Kirk looked up sharply, shaken. "What? Who told you about that?"
McCoy winced. "Spock did. He told me *everything,* Jim."
Kirk's shoulders slumped in sudden exhaustion, and he turned on his side. "Gary..."
McCoy could tell that the young captain wanted to be left alone, so he quietly slipped out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Kirk released a whirlwind of grief and anger all at once. The kironide power channeled his emotions into physical action, and all the delicate instruments near him went flying into walls and floors.
Kirk was in the middle of it all, eyes tightly closed, fists clenched. His eyes snapped open, and for a moment the irises of his eyes were pure, cold silver...
