Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek; if I did, Christine Chapel would be the main character of every book, film, and tv series in the franchise.
A/N: I have two picture links on my profile page that are manipulations by me from the story. Yes, they are ghetto, but too bad. :)
Spock knelt down to examine a small crack in the ground with his tricorder.
He turned around to find a very fatigued Leonard McCoy approaching him. It appeared as though he had been running at an immense speed for some time. Spock raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was not with the ensign and Lieutenant Chapel.
"Doctor, I do believe your party was making its way due east--"
"Chapel's hurt, Smith's dead…Some sorta earthquake," he managed to say in between deep breaths. "Her leg's crushed." For whatever reason Spock could not comprehend, the base of his throat felt as if it was swelling up.
"Doctor, are you not in the possession of a communicator that transmits to the ship--"
"Enough with the formalities, you green-blooded son-of-a-bitch! The damned communicator was destroyed in the tremors!" bellowed McCoy. "If we don't get back in time, there's a chance you may never see your science officer on the bridge again, and who the hell else knows how to decipher those damn stats?"
"If what you say is accurate, Doctor, then we would be sagacious to reach the Lieutenant very soon." Much to Spock's surprise, there was urgency in his own voice.
To keep herself sane and the gradual numbness that her leg was undergoing, Christine began to recite Earth's periodical table of the chemical elements. It was when she was stuck, trying to remember the element that came after polonium, that she heard McCoy's approach, this time followed by their Vulcan captain.
"Ya hangin' in there, Chapel?" he knelt down to survey her leg, which was still lifeless underneath the large rock.
"Yeah, fine, McCoy, just trying to recall the element that comes after polonium on the periodic table," Christine answered sarcastically, trying to disguise her gratefulness of his speedy return.
"Astatine," Spock answered, scanning the rock. He turned to McCoy. "Doctor, would you kindly stand back?"
McCoy obliged and took a step backwards, letting the Vulcan use his superhuman strength to move the boulder. Christine closed her eyes and began to hum to keep her mind off of her crushed leg. Moments later, she felt the enormous weight being removed from her leg and, unfortunately, the blood began to move back to the numbed section, causing her to regain feeling. Also, blood began to stream freely from a newly-discovered wound on her upper thigh, which was punctured by shards of rock. She squeezed her fists to keep her from screaming aloud in pain.
When she gained back her concentration, she found Spock stooped over her, scanning her leg with his tricorder. "The leg is broken, but not crushed. The problem is that you have dust fragments entering your bloodstream -- if we don't get you back to the ship soon enough, it could prove fatal." And with that, Spock immediately discarded his blue shirt, leaving only his black undershirt on. Christine was too dazed to understand what was going on. The poisonous dust was entering her system much faster than anticipated.
"What in the Sam Hill are you doing?" came McCoy's perturbed voice.
"Creating a tourniquet, doctor," he explained as he began ripping the blue polyester into long shreds. He then wrapped the seeping wound. "If we slow down the poison, we may get her back to the ship in time." Spock then pulled her right arm over his shoulder and stood up, bringing her up with him.
She shrieked loudly in pain, but was unable to procure the exact injury.
Christine felt McCoy bring other arm across his shoulder and supporting her other side. Her wounded leg was elevated, bent at the knee, while her free leg was barely touching the ground. Her eyes closed involuntarily and felt her head begin to droop, her neck unable to support it any longer.
Just as her breathing began to gradually cease, she could hear McCoy's anxiety clearly laced in his voice.
"Come on, Christine, hold on. You're gonna be fine."
Just as she heard the familiar sound of them beaming up to the ship, she lost all of her senses and succumbed into a unfathomable darkness.
"Time to wake up, sunshine," a familiar Southern twang echoed in her ears, making her head throb. She exhaled a low groan and began to open her eyes, only to throw her free arm over them to shield them from the brightness of the overhead lights.
She smiled weakly, realizing where she was. "Oh, am I in heaven? Oh, wait," she looked up at McCoy and sarcastically exclaimed in false horror. "You're here! This must be the other place!"
"Nope, even better. You're in sickbay."
"Here's the new bandages you asked for, Doctor," a pretty brunette approached the doctor and handed him a bundle of gauze. Christine sat herself up, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. The nurse gave her a vibrant grin and Christine hesitantly returned the favor.
As his assistant walked away, Christine looked up at McCoy, who tried to look busy unwrapping the roll. "I see you had no trouble at all replacing me," she jested.
"Don't be jealous, Chapel, just because your substitute is a little bit prettier than you."
"A little? McCoy, she's the Audrey Hepburn of the 23rd century."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Who the hell's Audrey Hepburn?"
"Never mind…" she grumbled. Her mother's abundance of ancient refurbished holomovies was obviously not a common collection. "Anyways, what's the damage?"
"Sprained wrist, broken leg. Originally, it was dislocated, but I had to put it back once we got ya back here. You're pretty damn lucky, ya know. That life-sized gnome twisted your wrist when he pulled you up."
"How long have I been out…Ow!" She yanked her wrist away after he began to press down on it.
"Quit your complainin'," ordered McCoy, "A little suffering is good for the soul. Anyways, you've been out about two days."
"Two days!" she exclaimed, looking around. "But what about my post? They need someone up there to man the science station!"
"Hold your horses, Chapel. They've got an ensign takin' care of it and you're not gonna be up there for at least another week. I don't want you walkin' on that leg until the break's healed."
She groaned in annoyance and leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes.
"Doctor McCoy, how is Lieutenant Chapel faring?" A very familiar voice was heard not far from where she was laying. Christine opened her eyes to find Spock walking towards her bed, with McCoy still bandaging up her wrist.
"She'd be better if you didn't nearly tear her wrist off, you pixie."
"McCoy," Christine interjected, immediately sensing their hostility for each other.
"Is there a possibility that I can speak with Lieutenant Chapel in private?"
"Not a chance in hell, you--"
"Yes, he can," interjected Christine, glaring at McCoy.
"Fine…Let me finish wrapping up your wrist."
"No, just go. I got it," she said, taking the roll in her uninjured hand. "Go, McCoy."
He sighed loudly and left the two bridge officers alone. A moment of silence passed between the two as Spock watched Christine single-handedly roll up her wrist.
"I apologize for injuring your wrist," he finally said, staring at it with his hands crossed behind his back. "It was unintentional."
"It's fine, it was either that or my leg would be gone," she said, smiling lightly, attempting to lessen the tension. "Thank you."
"There is no need to thank me for something I am obliged to do. You are an important member of the ship and it would be an indignity to lose your expertise. There are very few in Starfleet who are able to man the science station without any assistance." As he said this, she lifted the roll of bandages and tore off the excess with her teeth.
Christine took this as a compliment, something she never expected to come from a seemingly emotionally-invalid Vulcan. "Erm, thank you, captain."
For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something else, but after a few seconds he slightly bowed his head at her, notifying her of his leave-taking. "Lieutenant." He then turned, and walked out of the sickbay. McCoy, who passed him as he crossed the room, gave him a bitter look.
"What the hell was all that about," McCoy asked, examining Christine's clumsy handiwork with the bandages. "He looked a little uncomfortable."
Her eyes followed Spock leaving the sickbay. "I have no idea."
A/N: GAH, sorry this chapter is so short and it took a million years to write. I spent forever mulling over it and decided to just submit it. Don't worry, it's gonna get good in the next few chapters. A couple of twist and turns are coming your way... Remember to look at my pictures on my profile and tell me if you like them.