The plant must have been one tough cookie. Harrison was still breathing hard, even ten minutes later after being released. He has said nothing since the confirmation of his family's lives. Instead, he'd been trailing quietly behind Kirk, giving no indication of harm or hostility. He did have one arm wrapped around his torso, holding it gingerly.

"You look like crap," Kirk finally said, turning to look back at Harrison. "What else did the plant do to you?"

"Broke a few ribs," Harrison muttered. "It'll heal in a few hours."

Kirk's eyes bulged out. "A few hours? Are you kidding me? You can heal bones in less than a day?"

Harrison shrugged like it was no big deal. Even with all the technology in Starfleet, it took at least two weeks to heal a broken bone. "You're limping," Harrison suddenly commented. He was staring at Kirk's leg. "Why?"

"Scissors."

"Scissors?"

Kirk held up his little life savior. He grimaced when he realized it was colored pink. "I kept these in my pocket. It dug into my thigh. Now I have a small gaping hole to deal with. It's fine. I've had worse."

Kirk could see it in Harrison's face, the whole, where'd-you-get-those-why-do-you-have-those-and-ho w-did-you-keep-it-from-me face. Instead of actually voicing that question, he merely grunted and visibly threw the thought away.

They walked in silence a bit longer. Kirk was waiting though, for the questions Harrison really wanted to ask. Maybe Harrison was waiting until his ribs were a bit better. If Kirk gave him the wrong answer, then it was just a matter of breaking Kirk's neck with his bare hands.

Five minutes later, Harrison finally asked, very quietly, "Why didn't you kill them?"

"Because I'm not a psychopath. What do I gain by executing innocent men and women?"

"Me."

"By thinking I had killed your crew, you kidnapped me and goaded my crew to come rescue me. By the way," Kirk said, stopping so he had Harrison's full attention. "Why? What was your plan?"

For a moment, Harrison hesitated. Maybe he still thought his plan could work or maybe he felt guilty. Either way, he said, "I left the tracking signal on at the ship. The signal should attract both your crew and the Klingons."

Kirk didn't even resist. He punched Harrison across the face.

Harrison's head barely moved from the force. Kirk's hand felt broken, though. "That was your plan? To lure them both here and watch from a safe distance as they tore each other apart?"

"Not I," Harrison said simply. "You. I wanted you to watch them die and when it was over, after I forced you to bury what was left, I would have ended your life."

The urge to lift the phaser and just shoot Harrison in the face was so strong. Just end the politics, end the doubt, just end him and all of Kirk's problems would go away.

But looking at Harrison was like looking into a goddamn mirror. What would have Kirk done, if the roles were reversed? What if it was Spock or Uhura in those pods, sleeping until the end of time? Just the thought of any of his crew being hurt needlessly made Kirk's stomach clench painfully.

No matter what Kirk felt toward Harrison, he understood him. And that scared him. "Let's get back to the ship."

()

A few hours his ass. The longer they walked, Harrison stood straighter and easier as the seconds passed. His breathing got better, his stance got wider, and even the small bruises around his neck were gone.

Kirk however wasn't fairing as well. The pain in his leg was getting worse, his limp more pronounced. His one and only thought was to get back to the ship, to get in contact with his crew before something bad happened. Everything else was secondary.

"Kirk," he heard Harrison say. But it sounded so far away, like an echo.

"Kirk."

That sounded more clearer and yet Kirk could not focus his attention on it. He was too busy trying to move forward. Get to the ship, get to the ship, get to the-

He blinked and everything went black.

He blinked again and he found himself being manhandled by Harrison. The dude was literally holding him up with one arm, while his other hand was gipping his face. "You have a fever," Harrison hissed in disgust. "You showed no signs of sickness before we got on this planet, so how-"

His eyes darted down. "You idiot!"

Kirk wasn't sure where that insult was directed at. Either way, Harrison was dragging him over to the nearest large rock and sat him down. Harrison's hands drifted towards Kirk's crotch.

"HEY!" Kirk protested, his brain finally registering what was going on. "What are you-"

Harrison wasn't trying to grope him. He grabbed the side of Kirk's trousers and ripped them wide opened, revealing the cut the scissors had done.

This whole time, Kirk thought the cut was this tiny, managable thing, and worse come to shove, he would need a few stitches.

There was a literal four inch slash across his thigh. It wasn't bleeding as bad as Kirk thought it would but he could see his own muscle. "Holy crap," Kirk said, amazed. He held up the scissors and stared at them in awe. "You guys are sharp."

Harrison slapped him. "Focus!" He hissed. "If this brought on a fever, it's worse than it looks. You need medical attention."

Kirk pushed him away. "Ship first."

"Kirk-"

"Ship first, Harrison. The moment I can stop worrying about my crew, I can focus on this. In the meantime," he pushed himself up off the rock. He swayed, his eyesight whiting. He gritted his teeth and through sheer will, kept himself upright. "We walk."

"You're no good to me dead."

"Do you have a needle and thread on hand with you, hmm? No? Then shut up and walk, ya freak."

The sun was barely rising and the glow of the bushes slowly faded away. The nights here lasted longer than on Earth and Kirk wondered how long he has been awake. Twenty-four hours? Longer? It didn't matter. Now that the sun was up, it was easier to navigate and trace their footsteps back to the ship.

Or at least what was left of it.

"No..." said Kirk, limping forward. "No...!"

Somebody had ripped apart the ship like it was tissue paper. Broken twisted bits of metal was everywhere, pieces of it was still on fire, and even the three-inch safety glass was shattered, scattered across the forest floor.

"Huh," said Harrison, looking over the damage. "The Klingons got here faster than I anticipated."

Kirk tried to limp forward, hoping he could find something to salvage. Maybe a communicator, scraps to make a poor-man's radio, anything. "Don't," said Harrison, holding him back. "We need to leave. The Klingons could still be in the area."

Kirk could hear his heartbeat in his ear. It was beating entirely too fast. "Hey, Harrison, remember what I said about finding the ship?"

"Yes?"

"Well, we found it." And that was the last thing Kirk said before his eyesight went black and fainted.