Without being told where he was Spock walked without hesitation to the dark, quiet isolation room in which Jim Kirk lay. The captain was unconscious, though from what Spock could see of his battered, swollen and bruised condition that was most assuredly for the best. Spock went to the bed and perched uneasily on the chair beside it. McCoy hovered close by, watching anxiously. The doctor didn't know which one of them to concentrate on. Kirk's face was a mass of bruises on his pale, almost translucent skin. His breathing was slow and harsh. Spock's color was too high, shadows marked the spaces below his eyes and cheekbones. If he was breathing at all, McCoy couldn't tell. He watched the pulse in Spock's neck and it seemed fast even for him.
Closing his eyes in concentration, Spock placed the fingers of one hand on the touch points of Jim's temple and cheek, not asking this time for permission that had always been granted in the past. Kirk groaned as he became aware of the Vulcan, and of his attempt to reach into his mind.
Their thoughts flowed into each other and something shattered across Spock's mind. Shards of pain exploded across nerve endings already raw from his own injuries. It was like being struck by summer lightning in the middle of Vulcan's Forge.
Kirk was dying. A lamatya, wild and terrible, screamed inside Spock's soul. He struggled for control. He could not help either of them if he descended into that void.
Struggling with all his skill and training to deal with both Jim's pain and his own, Spock worked steadily to establish a healing mode, free of pain. He met with struggle, rebellion. The deep recesses of Kirk's mind resisted the invasion.
NO no no no…..
Jim!
Hesitation. Spock.
Spock pressed his thoughts deeper. It is necessary.
The rebellion was put down, dissolved in the face of Kirk's courage to be that open with this one man.
In communication that moved at the speed of thought, Spock assured Jim that they were all safe, well, healing; and that he and Scott would find out what caused the explosion. They would not rest until they knew. That reassurance did more to relax Jim than all the sedatives McCoy could have ever pumped into his system. As Spock had willingly surrendered Daphne to McCoy, knowing he could do no more for her, Kirk gave the Enterprise to Spock. Just before he surrendered to the darkness that had been waiting to claim him, the thought flared between them,
Spock…Lincoln…The gates of hell…..
The Vulcan understood and their linked minds finished the quote together,
Shall not prevail against them.
As Spock gently broke the meld McCoy watched the monitors that told him Jim Kirk had begun to recover. Spock was relieved that those monitors held the doctor's attention. The Vulcan felt as if he had climbed a labyrinth of stairs in the midday sun.
"I don't know what you did, but his life was hanging by a thread a moment ago. Now I think the worst may be over."
Spock only nodded and slowly stood up.
"Where is Mr. Sulu?" he asked.
As McCoy took him to the area of sickbay in which the rest of the Bridge crew lay healing, he said, grumpily,
"Are you going to do that to all of them? Because you'll probably kill yourself in the process if you do!"
Spock gave him one of those sharp, dark looks that held the war drums of ancient Vulcan and McCoy fell silent. He knew when to prod Spock, when to annoy him just enough to act as a safety valve for the extreme emotional suppression the Vulcan subjected himself to.
He also knew when to shut the hell up. Wordlessly, he led Spock to Sulu.