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He slept.
An undisturbed, sedative influenced sleep. Jim Kirk slept, his mind drifting into a black, shapeless void. Prone on the table, carefully administered to by selected crew members. The Captain of the Enterprise was oblivious to anything outside of his own contracting consciousness.
"How is he, doctor?"
McCoy looked up as Spock entered. The Vulcan's face was expressionless as he gazed down at the sleeping form of Jim Kirk, whose face had taken on an almost child like repose. "He's sleeping. Not being sarcastic, Spock. I've given him enough sedative to knock him out for at least 24 hours."
Spock looked at the doctor, his expression almost surprised. "This seems like a long time."
"I need him to sleep so I can begin tests." McCoy gestured to a small table, Spock walked over to it. "I've taken a blood sample, and I'm currently trying to see if there is any irregularity - any poisoning. Whether any of those cells have started to..."
McCoy's voice trailed off, and Spock did not press him to complete the sentence. "Is he responding to your treatment?"
"I've increased the amount of glucose - although I hope it doesn't give him diabetes." McCoy gave the Science Officer a half smile. "Still, he's been undereating so every little helps."
"I'm sure it will." Spock nodded at the CMO. "I will return later, doctor. Please continue your good work."
As Spock left, McCoy allowed himself a smile. "Good work" was about as effusive as the Vulcan would ever get.
Montgomery Scott was carefully adjusting controls on the core when he heard the clatter of feet. Looking up, he saw Carol Marcus in front of him. "Doctor. What cannae do for ye?"
The blonde didn't smile. "Mr Scott, I need to ask you - what's happened to the Captain?"
Scott swallowed, aware that he was one of the four on board who knew the truth. The rest of the crew had been informed that Kirk had a virus, was in Sick Bay, and not allowed visitors. But he also knew that Carol would be determined to find out what had really happened, and he wasn't convinced of his ability to refuse to tell her.
"He's sick, that's all." Scott shrugged, feigning indifference. "But, the guy thinks he's superhuman. Thinks he'll survive us all."
"He did die," Carol reminded him. "Maybe its a delayed reaction, physically?"
"I couldn't say. I'm not a doctor." Scott kept his head done, doggedly refusing to look at the worried face in front of him.
"Mr Scott-"
"Look, Dr Marcus," Scotty interrupted, his unease coming to the surface. "I didnae know what's wrong with Jim. I don't. I'm sorry." He rubbed his face. "He did die, you said that. Maybe he shouldnae come back. Maybe - he needs some time off. I don't know. But I do know that he isn't well."
Carol looked at him. "Mr Scott- are you allright?"
"No," the Chief said, bluntly. He gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, doctor. Its not you."
Nodding, Carol turned to leave. "Thank you Mr Scott."
Swallowing, Scotty watched her go, hedging a guess he knew where she was going.
"Perhaps you should start from the beginning."
Kirk eyed Khan, safely imprisoned behind the thick sheet of glass. The other man smirked at him, smugly.
"Start with what, Mr Kirk?"
"What you want - what you intend to do-"
"I think you know very well what I intend to do."
"His vital signs are accelerating - so is his heartbeat!"
"Doctor -"
"Give me the shot - need to pull him out of this!"
"You said you have something to tell me." Kirk took a step closer to the glass. "You said that you thought I had a conscience - that means you think I would listen to you."
"Or perhaps I just think you're weak, Mr Kirk. Weak and vain enough to think that I think your opinion matters. You may be the Captain of this ship but you do not have an inkling about how this is going to play out."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I will kill your crew. I will kill the Admiral. And there's nothing you can do about it, Mr Kirk. You'll lie there, open mouthed, as I do this. Then I will kill you. And you'll scream for it to be over. Why? Because you're weak. You won't fight back. Ever."
"I would against you-"
"But I'm superior to you in every way, Mr Kirk. Unlike you, I don't feel compassion. I don't feel empathy. But you do. And that's why you're going to lie there as I rid you of your-"
Kirk sat up, gasping for breath. McCoy smoothly pulled a needle out of his arm, then gently blotted it with gauze. "Easy now," he said gently. Kirk looked at him, and with a shock, Bones saw that the other man's eyes were wild.
"Where is he?"
"Who?" McCoy replied, his tone calm, trying to conceal the panic he was beginning to feel. "Who, Jim?"
"Khan!"
"Jim," McCoy said, gently, "breathe."
"No, I need to-"
McCoy watched as Kirk leaned forward, frantically ripping at the ties to his ankles. His hands had been freed under the sedative. Suddenly, the IV tube was pulled out of the Captain's pale arm, and he was on his feet.
"Jim!" McCoy practically roared. "What are you-"
Suddenly, he felt himself pushed aside. Kirk was moving out of the sick bay.
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