For the first time in what seemed a century, the sickbay was finally empty. And silent, except for the quiet murmur of (thankfully) currently idle personnel chatting and what sounded like Christine Chapel humming 'Beyond Antares'. No one was celebrating, the last week had been too sobering to allow that, but there was a quiet air of pride.

After all, they had done what had seemed to be impossible. Deneva was safe. The parasites destroyed. The tide of madness halted. Considering the magnitude of the threat, loss of life had been minimal.

Officially, none of their own had been lost, but in a way, Sam and Aurelan Kirk had been mourned for the sake of their brother. The crew of a starship, by the time they are past the first year of their deep space mission, are effectively family, and this family had mourned with their patriarch. But little Peter Kirk had been saved, and now was on the way to Earth with his uncle, where he would find a home with his elder brother.

McCoy had been worried for the child. There were wounds that you couldn't see, and even now, couldn't always treat. But the young are almost frighteningly resilient. By the time of his departure, both the CMO and the child psychologist assigned to him agreed that Peter was well on his way to recovery. There will be nightmares for a while, there will be a lot of tears shed, but no crippling scars.

Jim had anticipated some difficulty obtaining leave on such short notice to take his nephew to Earth and had been willing to cash in all the favors he was owed were it necessary, but as it turned out, there was little trouble on that score. (Admiral Cartwright's daughter was settled in Deneva with her partner).

"Well, all readings normal" McCoy muttered "At least, what passes for normal with you."

The Vulcan First Officer, subject to his scrutiny, got off the biobed in a swift graceful motion even before the doctor had completed the sentence.

" I assured you that I am fully functional, doctor."

The CMO gave him one of those patented Southern Country Doctor glares which was the dread of every sickbay personnel (except a smiling Christine Chapel). "Well, I've learned what to make of your assurances, if I may say so, Commander. And you are still going to come back next week for a similar round of tests."

"That would be unnecessary, since the parasite has-"

"I'm the doctor here, in case you have forgotten!"

" Certainly I have not forgotten, Doctor, but still.."

McCoy spun on his heels and marched into his private office, not deigning to continue the argument. He had expected Spock to raise an eyebrow at the illogic of humans in general and this human in particular, and rush back to whatever his science labs were up to these days. He certainly had not expected the Vulcan to follow him into the office.

"What?"

Spock's tone was unusually softened when he addressed the irate CMO. "Doctor. It was not your fault."

"What in seven blazes are you talking about?"

"You know quite well, doctor."

He did. That didn't mean he wanted to talk about it. Because, honestly, what was to be said? He had made one of the worst mistakes in his career, a mistake a first year intern should not have made. The fact that it turned out well in the end changed nothing. He had done nothing to mitigate the situation, he had not had the least idea what to do. It was only Vulcan physiology that prevented his idiocy having lasting consequences.

Jim had forgiven him – after it became clear that Spock would be alright. Yes, he had said the words before –'Bones, it wasn't your fault'- but that had been the Captain speaking, the Captain who knew he himself had been partly responsible, the Captain who felt the need to shield his men. Jim would not, perhaps could not, have said those words and meant them, not till the moment when Spock had walked onto the Bridge, his eyes focused and sharp again. With Spock back at his side, Jim had forgiven Bones his error. And Spock himself insisted, as he had done at the time, that there was nothing to forgive. None of that changed matters.

"Get outta here, hobgoblin. You want to play the sphinx, go do it in your precious Science labs and quit cluttering up my office."

That image would not be banished from his mind – the graceful First Officer stumbling against a table, calmly stating that he's gone blind, Jim's look of utter horror and rage when he realizes the sacrifice had not been necessary…

" Doctor McCoy. May I remind you that I am a touch telepath?"

Damn it. Technically one could give a crewmember a complete physical without actually touching them, but McCoy was somewhat old fashioned in his approach. It simply felt more natural to hold a patient's wrist to feel his pulse than have the bio bed tell you. Of course, that posed some problems when the patient in question could download exactly what you were feeling with skin contact.

Normally Spock kept plenty of mental shields between himself and the "illogical and overly emotional" humans he worked with, so that casual contact, while not something he liked, was not actually a breach of privacy either. But after what he had been through, not more than a couple of days ago, naturally his mental defenses would be weaker…Smashed to pieces, more like.

"What did you pick up from me, then?"

"Guilt. Pain. I did not intent to look into your mind, Doctor, but-"

"I know. It's okay. And as for the guilt, I guess you would say it's illogical, as it serves no purpose-"

"I would say it is illogical, Doctor, because it is undeserved. You were the only one among us three who protested the attempt. You made the risks clear."

"I was the only one among us three who was firing on all thrusters!" McCoy burst out. it had been his turn to watch out for them, and he had failed, let them both down. "Jim was still reeling from what we saw down there – his brother, Aurelan, little Peter – He wasn't at the level of emotional compromise that he had to be relieved of command, not that bad, but he was getting there. In fact, if those damn things hadn't gotten you, I'd have actually suggested his stepping back for a while. And anyway, Jim's brilliant, all of us know that, but he's a strategist, not a scientist. He wasn't the one who knew the protocols..You can't just fly in like a battle, you have to be careful, to analyze..Hell, anyone knows what the procedures are, before we try it on a live subject –"

"I am a scientist."

"And you had that creature chewing at you from the inside. I saw the K3 indicator, Spock. I am no telepath, but I can guess what it was like for you in there. Just walking and talking while under that much stress is some kinda miracle of will, Vulcan or not. Of course you were desperate for the pain to stop."

"Doctor. Listen to me for once. I was in significant discomfort, but my mental faculties were unaffected. I knew I may well end up blinded.. However, I also knew that there was no time to test the various possibilities."

"No time…Christine came back with the test results minutes after we.."

"Seven minutes, thirty four seconds. However, those were minutes that I did not have."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Spock sighed. He was clearly reluctant to speak about this.

"Among the Denevan colonists, there were some who did not recover, even after the parasites were destroyed."

"Yeah…Pain like that..They ended up catatonic, and from all appearances, permanently so. You think you were.."

"I know I was at that point. Catatonia. Or death. I know my limits, doctor. We are more consciously aware of our bodies than humans are. I admit I occasionally push the limits a little when the situation seems to warrant it, but I do know just how far I can go. I could not have held on any longer. Minutes would have been too long."

McCoy turned paler. "I didn't know it was that close. Good Heavens, Spock.."

"There was no point telling you, for there was nothing you could have done. And the Captain had more than enough to deal with already. I did not mean to tell you at all, but it seems you are ..I think the term is 'beating yourself up' needlessly. There was no choice, no time to find a safer option. It would have been too late, had you waited."

McCoy took a deep breath. "You were that close to death or madness. And you tried to put yourself back on duty the next shift? I ought to make you retake that psych scan."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"The scan has been-"

"Spock. Quit talking for a minute."