Sight

It was early in the evening when a burst of sharp pain brought Spock back into awareness. The sickbay was quiet, most of the nurses already headed off to bed after the long hours spent treating the remaining colonialist of Deneva. The only sound resonating within the small room was the steady beeping of the monitor over his head. Though he couldn't see his surroundings, Spock assumed that he was alone.

Usually, this would not bother him. In fact, on a ship full of emotional and often times taxing human beings, solitude is a rare pleasure. However, after the current mission's events, the death of Kirk's brother, the creature, his blindness, alone was the last thing he wanted to be. Spock felt a wave of anguish battered against his overtaxed emotional shields. Yes, his blindness. He was blind. Permanently and nothing could reverse it. Sensor nets could keep him from bumping into the walls, but his life in Starfleet was over. After they finish the mission, Starfleet would probably divert them to the nearest base, pin a medal on his chest, thank him for his courageous sacrifice in the line of duty, and then it would all be over. No crew, no enterprise, no home to return to. He would truly be alone.

Spock felt a twinge of shame when he realized that he was trembling. It was all just too much. Just when he was about to give himself over to the overwhelming weight in his chest, a rustling sound to his right caused him to jump. Someone was here. Someone had been watching him this whole time and he had failed to notice. Spock went still, attempting to use his superior hearing to deduce who and where they were. Surely it wasn't Peter. The child had been cured hours ago and moved into a private room in order to make him feel more comfortable. But someone was in the room and whoever it was, was moving closer. Spock tensed as he felt someone lean over him. Then he felt a warm blanket being placed over him and it clicked. The doctor was still here. Of course he would be. For a moment he debated on "playing possum." as his mother use to call it. But the despair remained, hanging heavily on his shoulders. He could not stand it. The doctor moved again, leaning over him, presumably to check the monitor. Spock knew what it would say. No more pain, no damage to the cells. But still the blindness remained. Spock stayed still as stone; However, his vitals must have given him away for he heard the doctor pause.

"Spock?" he whispered, his voice low and slightly husky. "You awake?"

Spock hesitated only a moment before answering. "I am awake, doctor."

"I'm sorry." The doctor muttered. His voice uncomfortably strained. "I was trying to be quiet. Here, just let me get these readings and then I will get out of here." He said quickly, moving away.

Spock felt panic flutter in his chest and he reached out, his hands groping at the air. "Wait." He cried out. "Please." He hated the weakness in his voice, but suddenly he couldn't stand being alone in the darkness.

The doctor rushed back. His voice booming from right above his head. No double rechecking the monitors. "What is it Spock? What's wrong?"

Spock felt a pang of embarrassment for the panic in the doctor's voice. "Nothing is wrong doctor, just . . . Stay with me." He whispered

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, before the doctor finally sighed heavily. "Spock." He began wearily.

"Please, doctor."

The doctor sighed again, but Spock could hear the sound of a chair being pulled out near him. The doctor fell heavily into it. "I'm afraid I won't be good company tonight." He warned. "Its been a long day."

"I assure you, doctor. I am highly aware of that." Spock responded, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

The silence fell over them again, thicker this time. Spock could hear the doctor breathing, a ragged worn sound so he knew he was still there. "Doctor." He questioned after a few minutes had passed. There was no reply. "Doctor?" he called again.

"Yes." The doctor responded raspy. There was a small sound, which Spock couldn't tell if it was a cough or a sob.

"I don't blame you." He stated softly.

"I should have seen it. I should of. . .." the doctor's voice faltered and McCoy took a deep shaky breath before continuing. "I'm so sorry."

Spock reached out his hand and blindly groping at the air a few moment before the doctor reaches out and took it. His hand was moist with sweat, but his grip was firm.

"Doctor." Spock began again, "Don't morn for me. You saved my life today and many times before. Regret is such a disruptive emotion. You have nothing to be guilty about. Please." he let his voice trail off. The doctor made a sound, a smothered sob perhaps. I wish I could see him. He thought. I wish I could look him in the eyes so he could see that I'm being sincere.

But he couldn't and it would be illogical to wish otherwise. Suddenly, a burning sensation rose in his eyes, a fruitless attempt a tears he first thought. But instead of the slight prickling of needles, the pain flared into full-fledged flame which seemed to originate in the very base of his corneas. Gasping, his hand shot up, wiping his eyes rapidly.

"Spock." The doctor soft voice startled him. "Spock are you ok?"

"My. . . My eyes." He cried, close to a whimper. He hated it, but he couldn't help it. The fire roared in his head, outshining even the pain that parasite had brought. He swallowed a scream. Instinctively, he found himself passing his hands over his eyes again and again as if hoping to erase the pain until the doctor's hands closed over his, pulling them away.

"Stop or you will scratched them." He demanded

Spock didn't care. He just wanted the overwhelming burning to cease. Suddenly, he was being pushed roughly out of bed. He stumbled briefly, but the doctor soon inserts himself under his shoulder enough to be able to lift and guide him.

Spock reached for his eyes again, only to have the doctor slap his hands away, a little more forcefully than necessary. He welcomed the sting, a distraction from the burning in his eyes. The fire had begun to sear its way directly into his skull, sending bright stars across his close eyelids. Guiding hands grasped his shoulders pushing him down.

"Open your eyes." McCoy demanded and Spock struggle to comply, trying and failing to hold open what he was certain were empty black sockets. "Dammit, I said open them." He resisted the urge to snap back that he was trying, certain the words wouldn't come out as anything but a scream. Instead, he tried again, this time succeeding to crack open his lids.

Instantly, a cold strong stream of water flooded his face making him panic and throw his head back. This caused the doctor to swear again, grabbing the back of his head and forcing it forward, not that Spock had been resisting. The high-pressure water was painful, but it was helping. After a few minutes, the pain in his eyes retreated, fading back into a slow ache. He let out a sigh of relief that was dangerously close to a sob. The doctor's grip lessened and the water slowed to a trickle before stopping. "I'm sorry." the doctor whispered, releasing his head.

Spock blinked the water out of his sightless eyes, confused. "No I'm sorry. I was taken aback." He replied

"Not about the water. About. . . I should have stopped to think. I should've known."

"How?" Spock demanded, drowning out the doctor sorrow. "There were no results available when the captain ordered you to throw the switch. My strength was waning. We both agreed to this."

"That doesn't make it okay." The doctor dropped a cloth over Spock's face, rubbing his skin a little rougher the necessary. "30 seconds. 30 seconds and we would've had the answer, but I panicked. I acted too soon. I always act to soon." The doctor's voice broke, his hands falling away from Spock face.

Spock remained silent a few minutes before speaking. "This is happened before?" he prodded gentle. "Who?"

For a moment, Spock didn't think he would answer. Then quietly "My father begged me to kill him. He had been in pain for years. The ends of his nerves disintegrating. He could feel it all. He suffered silently, but once it started taking his hands. He..." the doctor's voice quavered and he swore again. "He was a doctor. His hands were his life, his profession. He could live on life support. He could tolerate the loss of his legs, the seizures. But to lose the thing that made him who he was. He couldn't bear it. So he asked me to end it and I did. I pulled the plug and then he was gone. They had a cure within a month. Full regeneration. I killed my father." The doctor was trembling. He could feel the vibrations. "And now I blinded one of my best friends all because I panicked and acted too soon. What right did I have?" The doctors voice trailed off as the sobs took over, made all the more gut-wrenching by the doctors attempt to suppress them.

Spock was silent. He had heard of McCoy's father, a great man of medicine. McCoy, himself, told stories of him, but never of this. Spock closed his eyes and tried to picture what it would have been like for him. A proud man of medicine beaten down by the very demons he fought to defeat. The horrible pain of having to watch as each system shut down one by one, knowing all too well how it would look in the end. Spock considered his own melancholy thoughts, spurred by the loss of his eyesight. His fears of losing his career and all he had held dear. The fear and pain of starting again. McCoy's father didn't have those options. He understood. Reaching out, his hand struck the doctors arm and he latched on.

"It wasn't your fault." He whispered with conviction. "Your father made his choice. He wanted to die with dignity. With his title. That was his right. A right he knew you would honor. His death was an honorable thing."

"A waste." The doctor protested as he shook his head.

"At the time, you could not have known. You honored him as best you could with the knowledge that you had. You performed your duties as a doctor and a son. Just as you have honored my request as a friend. Do not mourn over what you could not have seen. I do not blame you as I am sure your father does not blame you. You must let the pain go or it will consume you. Forgive yourself for what you've been forgiven." The doctor sobbed again, an exhausted mournful sound, but one of relief not pain. Spock could feel the ocean of emotional rolling over him from the doctor's touch. Pain, grief, sorrow but also gratefulness and for the first time, acceptance. His eyes burned again and for a moment he feared that the doctor's emotions would overwhelm him and the tears that had seemed to linger on the edge of his control since the beginning of this nightmare had slipped through.

He raised one hand to swipe at his face, attracting the attention of the ever vigilant doctor. "Spock?"

He blinked, about to reassure the doctor when he saw something. A small blurry flash of movement in the darkness or at least he thought he did. The burning in his eyes resurfaced, full-force and crippling, but he hardly noticed the pain now. Blinking, he strained, peering with his blind eyes into the darkness. Illogical hoping that.. . . There it was again. The white blur, getting closer now.

He felt the wetness began to spill down his face whether from the pain or from the waves of disbelief assaulting his shields, he was unsure. He blink rapidly, stumbling to his feet. He had to get closer to it, but before he could step forward, the blur moved closer itself. Very close. Spock felt strong hands grip his shoulders. "Sit down. It's okay. You're okay. What's wrong?" The blur was hovering just inches from him, and he began to see details emerge. His eyes burned like an unbanked fire, but he began to see the pink of the doctors mouth, tangles of brown sweat soaked bangs, and the icy blue his eyes.

Spock's chest heaved once, the strangled whisper of a suppressed sob as he reached forward to touch the side of the doctor's face briefly before bringing his hands back to his mouth, instinctively covering a smile which had spread so wide it was almost painful.

The doctor stared his eyes widening to to the size of saucers as he stared at the Vulcan's eyes, which were clear and focused for the first time in days. "You can see me." McCoy whispered.

Spock nodded vigorously, not trusting himself to speak as tears continue to track down his cheeks. The pain was subsiding now, fading into a dull burn, but the tears continued unabated. He reached for the doctor's face again, knocking the man out of his blank stare.

Batting his hands away gently, he hurried to the drawer on the biobed a few feet to their right, one that Spock could only assume he occupied a few minutes ago. From the drawer, he retrieved his hand scanner and a light, and hurried back to his side. Flipping on the light, he shined it directly into the Vulcan's eyes.

Spock flinched back, the pain flaring anew.

"Sorry," the doctor muttered as he reached out to wipe the Vulcan's eyes clear before introducing the light more gently. The doctor jumped back, swearing.

"What is it,doctor?" Spock asked, voice unsteady.

"Nothing. I just thought I saw something. One moment." The doctor straightened and hurried over to the computer terminal, leaving Spock sitting there alone.

Spock swiped at his eyes again as he waited apprehensively. He could make out a little bit more now. The curves of the bio beds, the white of the walls, a hard line of the monitor with its blinking lights. Everything was blurry like an out of focus camera, but he could see. He found himself staring at everything. The backs of the chairs, the pattern of the floor. Each item fascinating him as if he was seeing it for the first time.

The doctor was back, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stop staring a his boots, to look up at him. He shined the bright light in his eyes again. Spock recoiled just like he did before, but this time when his eyes refocused the doctor was smiling brightly at him. "Well, I'll be." he whispered. Putting a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder, he continued, "Did you know that you possess more than just one eyelids." He questioned.

Spock blinked confused. "Yes, don't you?" He retorted.

McCoy began to laugh, a high almost hysterical sounding that caused Spock to reach out and grab his arm, concerned for the doctor's mental health. McCoy merely covered his hand with his own. He looked at Spock, his eyes unusually bright. "It was temporary. The blindness I mean. Your eyes reacted to the bright light, triggering the second eyelid which contracted around your corneas like a film. I thought it was fresh scar tissue. Thought that the light had burn your eyes causing the damage I saw, but was it wasn't. The light did cause some swelling in the second lid. It must have gotten stuck. It couldn't retract, which caused blindness. Once the swelling went down, the lid retracted and . . . Don't you understand? It was temporary. You are going to be all right." Then the doctor did something that stunned Spock. He threw his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

Spock tensed at the contact, years of training on shielding and personal boundaries making him seize up. But then slowly, he relaxed, letting the emotion, the relief, the joy, spread over him like a balm, easing the anxiety that had held him in a vice the last few days. He indulged for a few moments before pulled back, and gently untangling himself from the doctor's arms. Then he just looked.

The doctor looked tired, black pooling under his eyes. His face was drawn, but his eyes shone brightly, illuminated the rest of his face. Tears had spilled down doctor's cheeks sometime during their interaction. He reached one long finger up to brush them away. The action snapped McCoy back to his senses, and within minutes, he shooed Spock back into the bed. Not that Spock was protesting much. The exhaustion of the days events were pulling his eyes shut even as the doctor struggled to hold them open.

Much later, when he rested enough to convince the doctor that he was well enough to go back on duty, he stood in front of a shocked Captain Kirk, who's face threatened to crack under the strain of his wide grin. The captain, after recovering from the shock of seeing him unharmed, ask him if he felt nothing at the return of his sight. Spock buried a smile, looked over the captain's head to see the doctor shifting awkwardly. He couldn't resist the temptation."On the contrary captain, I had a very strongly reaction. The first thing I saw was the face of Dr. McCoy standing over me."