Author's Note: Thank you to those who read and/or also reviewed last chapter after that evil cliffie. Usually I respond individually to reviews, but the week got away from me. :) Many thanks to my beta, Rubyhair, who is especially wonderful at fixing and helping to fill in those plot holes. Remaining mistakes are all mine. I research and try my best so please be kind 'when' I make mistakes in regards to all things medical. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I'd love to hear from you!

"I'll take it from here, Leonard," M'Benga briefly lifted his eyes from his patient. "I'm sure you need to speak with Jim."

M'Benga and two nurses followed the hoverbed to prepare for the impending surgery. Jim was next on McCoy's own agenda, as M'Benga had implied. Although he carried concern for Jim's physical health, of course, McCoy needed to check on Jim primarily for psychological reasons since the mission had gone awry. Spock and Jim were both safe and on board the Enterprise, but they had been a half kilometer away from those beasts themselves while engrossed with their own separate research. Ensign Dorle worked with the other group early on, unfortunately at the same time the creatures chose to reveal their territorial tendencies.

"That had been close," McCoy murmured to himself, running his hands under the sonic cleanser. "Too close."

McCoy's hands in the botanist's abdominal cavity and providing pressure was the only thing stopping the ensign from bleeding out up until one minute ago. It happened incredibly fast. The pair of nimble creatures burst through a wooded area but security reacted well, withstanding the attack except for the one serious injury within the small research party. Covered with short, brown fur except for the long, black fur of their bellies, the sturdy, seven foot creatures occupied a nest nearby which employed a protective shield their scanners failed to pick up. Their claws extended from humanly hands but their slender necks gave them an awkward appearance - and the stench radiating off of them contributed to their general and overall ugliness. McCoy almost shivered. He didn't even want to think about Jim having been so close to this catastrophe, and he didn't want Jim to dwell on that thought, either.

"Bridge to McCoy."

"Yes, Uhura."

"Mr. Scott is on his way to the transporter room. You're to meet him there, prepared for any emergency."

Not liking the worry he heard in Uhura's voice, McCoy requested more information."Why?"

Uhura hesitated. "I can't sense Spock as strongly through our bond. He's not answering me or his comms."

"He's not on the bridge? Spock and Jim intended to return immediately to the Enterprise."

"Negative. Both the commander and captain are on Letyra."

McCoy's heart dropped. He'd have to be prepared for anything. "I'm on my way. McCoy out."

Scott glanced up from the transporter console as McCoy arrived with an armory - two hoverbeds and three nurses besides Christine.

"Where are they?" McCoy scowled at the barren platform and cut straight to the point. "I have a feeling Jim had an episode after I left. Spock may have tried to shield Jim since I wasn't there. Those creatures won't be down for long."

"I'm workin' on it," Scott muttered.

"Is there a good reason for why this is taking so long?" McCoy ran a hand over his face. Every second put Jim and Spock at risk.

"Dr. McCoy, Chekov gave me their coordinates," Scott shook his head and looked him straight in the eye. "Only you're nae goin' ta like it. They have a wee bit o' company."

McCoy didn't have to be told twice. "More of those beasts? Get Jim and Spock outta there, Mr. Scott!"

"I cannae beam the captain or the commander back," Scott said. "There's one hoverin' over Spock and the other..."

"What?" McCoy barked. "The other what?"

"Jim's movin' right along with it." Scott finished, watching McCoy gravely. "We cannae beam those creatures aboard the ship, not knowin' what they are capable of. We're goin' to have to go down. I already alerted security. They're on their way."

"I can't wait for security. Beam me down there, now. It's a goddamned medical emergency! Spock could be unconscious and who knows what state Jim will be in." McCoy didn't know what to think about Jim battling one of those beasts by himself. From what he saw yesterday, Jim was beginning to show the spitfire and backbone that had helped make him captain. More of the characteristics of the old Jim could emerge and he could rise to the occasion. Or, Jim could revert to the Re'an tendencies he'd been given through the meld and all would be lost. Either way, there was no way in hell he was going to waste another second aboard the Enterprise when Jim and Spock needed him. The worse case scenario - and it had happened. "Christine, I'll need you to come with me, too."

"Don't worry, Dr. McCoy." Scott handed him a phaser. "I was plannin' on ye returnin', but I cannae allow ye to go without security."

McCoy took the weapon from Scott, ruefully comparing his own aversion of phasers to Jim's, and rushed onto the platform. He never thought for a moment that Jim would have to make use of that lesson yesterday so soon. McCoy looked up in surprise to see Sulu standing beside him, expression grim.

"I asked Mr. Scott if I could tag along. I hope you don't mind," Sulu said.

"Sulu, you're a good man," McCoy nodded, three security officers efficiently joining them on the platform.

What Jim suspected to be a padded finger with a wickedly long and curved nail traced his jawline and his neck, sending a chill straight down Jim's spine. It pressed deeper into his skin at the base of his throat. His blood pulsed but he held his breath, refusing to swallow and provoke whatever it was that had swiftly crept up to him.

He regretted his dulled reaction to this unknown creature beside him. This was not Jim Kirk. It wasn't the Kirk he was beginning to remember and yet because of his inability to react intelligently, his utter foolishness had placed both Spock and himself in a predicament that endangered their lives.

The finger sunk painfully into Jim's skin, hinting at aggression. Jim tamped down his insecurities and opened his eyes into narrow slits, determined to give this thing a fight. The creature's stench engulfed him and he could hardly breathe without gagging. As he pushed all of his fear aside and dragged his eyes wide open, he was finally able to distinguish between the thing in front of him and the trees and plants surrounding them. The grayish form was abnormally large, its arms at least triple the size of Jim's own.

Perhaps sensing Jim's new awareness, the blur of gray moved, simultaneously wrapping itself around Jim and trapping his arms flat against his body before he could think of raising the phaser. He couldn't have moved quicker. Not only had the touch startled him but Jim's thoughts clashed, those tainted by the Re'an now in a battle of wills against those tempered by the Kirk he had once been. Beads of sweat gathered along Jim's brow, rubbing against with the creature's heavily furred underbelly. His stomach rolled as the beast's stench hit him even worse than it had before. Jim gagged on rising vomit, unable to stop what was coming, and an indeterminate amount spewed unmercifully out of his mouth.

He groaned. He wished he'd known more about the old him and the captain's skills, for he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do - other than shoot it and protect his unconscious first officer. Unfortunately, the phaser was in a precarious position, lodged against Jim's stomach and the creature. The phaser pointed towards Jim, and his finger was on the trigger. Seeing no possible way he could maneuver the phaser to point at his captor, he inched his finger away from the trigger.

A growl vibrated against Jim's body and the creature shifted. Jim moved his head away from his captor as much as possible and attempted to peer out around the bulky shadow. Another lumbered through the trees.

"Shit," Jim whispered. He trailed the murky shape as it stopped just short of them. Jim held his breath for what seemed liked minutes. Neither creature stirred until his captor rested its hand on Jim's head and tugged on his hat.

"No. Don't..." Jim said, disgusted that the offensive creature had even touched one of his possessions. "That's...that's my hat. No...don't take..."

Jim groaned again as the rumbling creature swept the warm covering off his head. The creature held the object in its hand, emitting obnoxiously loud sniffing sounds as the pure novelty of the hat kept the creature's attention. As its claws were likely making numerous holes in his favorite hat, Jim resigned himself to a future of begging Uhura's forgiveness. With any luck, she'd have pity on him and knit him another one to keep his head warm until his hair grew back.

"You like the hat? Keep it then," Jim muttered. "It's all yours, big guy."

At least it was distracted. Jim lifted his hand and deliberately dragged his comm out from under the beast's hairy belly. He was about to press the comm when his captor startled Jim with a bursting growl. It acted as a signal to the second creature behind him, and a blurry shape came out of nowhere and swiped at Jim, tearing the comm from his grasp.

"Dammit," Jim hissed and drew his throbbing limb to his chest. His captor returned to his inspection of the hat, and Jim lost sight of the second creature. He had to get that comm, danger or no danger. These things appeared friendly but they were quick to react. And big. Really big.

Jim glanced at the ground, twisting his head behind him, searching for where the comm landed. After a moment, he thought he saw it, a smaller but darker shade of gray. He could be wrong, but he assumed it was worth a shot until he realized it was too far away for him to reach down and grab it. He was altogether too clumsy, thanks to his poor depth perception, and he was down to the use of one hand. He took a hasty breath, realizing the situation had worsened beyond these things.

He had bigger things to take care of now - like the creature hovering possessively over Spock.

Determined to get himself out of his captor's grasp and adjust his hold on the phaser so he could actually shoot it at the creature without harming himself, Jim nudged the offensive thing beside him. This had gone on for too long, and he was desperate and his arm a massive, throbbing mess. He knew nothing about these things except they looked like huge gray blobs to him, had a rancid smell and a penchant for growling, moved swiftly, and grew very large claws. The latter were attached to powerful arms, capable of crushing a mere human.

Instincts told Jim he was running out of time before one of the beastly shadows decided to maul them both.

Jim's decisions would most likely enrage his opposition, but it wasn't like that had never happened before when he faced an enemy. He'd most likely die in the process, not like that had never happened either, if his memory served him right. Bones would yell at him for taking this life-endangering risk, but that was a noted, everyday occasion in the old Jim's life.

The new him would fit in just fine.

Jim nudged the creature again. The creature responded with its usual growl at the slight movement, but Jim had had enough. The second creature inspected Spock all too closely, and the two now appeared to be one enormous gray, distorted shape. Jim had to get them both the hell out of here and to do that, he grasped onto the small part that had emerged the past few days. The part that was the old him, the captain who could lead and inspire his crew.

He remembered things, numerous details of people and events but he could not, in essence, feel many of them as if they were his own and woven into his skin. They were merely images and ideas being filtered and re-catalogued in his brain but not as fully engrossed, emotional imprints. The gaps in his memory saddened him, especially the holes regarding his captaincy. But what he did remember were faint brushes of his past, with a few memories filling him great emotion. He grasped on to every single one of those precious few in his mind, both the good and bad, but especially those of the people he loved most - Bones, Spock, and his crew.

Those memories were his and that had to be enough for now. As difficult as it had been, Jim had relinquished his passiveness the instant he took possession of that phaser yesterday. He had to move on with what he'd been given, and most importantly, he wanted to without a doubt.

Jim wasn't their captain as his crew remembered but he knew in this very moment he wanted to be the captain they needed. Maybe if he survived this, he could someday become that man again for them.

It would be worth whatever sacrifices he had to make to get himself there.

"Move," Jim snarled, elbowing his captor with even more force and directly into the hollow, sensitive part of its stomach.

The creature holding him whined, its sound deep and regretful when it took an unsteady step backwards. But Jim didn't think for a single second that this hulk of a growling creature could maintain a tame cover.

Empowered by his own actions, Jim growled. "Yeah? You didn't like that? I don't like you poking at me, either, you overgrown hat thief. Two can play at this game." The gray form responded with a long, rumbling sound. Jim found a better grip on his weapon and approached the creature as if it threatened every single member of his crew and Jim was the only thing standing in its way of mass destruction. "Don't take this personally, but I can't have you pawing at my first officer."

Jim raised his weapon at his companion - and fired his phaser.

McCoy spied Jim first. The one creature he saw standing hauled Jim off of his feet and, in turn, hoisted him high in the air only to drop him to the ground like he was a sack of potatoes. A flash of pain crossed Jim's face as McCoy heard the sickening thud of the impact and his best friend's distressed cry.

McCoy took off running, making the difficult choice to bypass the still Vulcan on the ground and leave him to Christine's care. He feared for Spock's condition, but McCoy's duty was first to their captain. After witnessing the battering Jim had just received, Jim would be facing, at the very least, a severe concussion and cracked ribs. Spock had a hard head and more than likely he would remain stable until they made it back to the Enterprise if, indeed, he'd shielded Jim and thus reacted to Jim's memory shatter as before.

Security took their shots, the creature appearing invincible until Sulu fired at the creature twice. Jim struggled to his hands and knees, one arm not fully functioning, and scrambled a few feet away and barely avoiding the beast as it collapsed. McCoy reached Jim as soon as he fell onto his back, eyes clenched shut as he gasped for breath.

"Jim, let me see those baby blues," McCoy said firmly, mindful of the blood covering Jim's shirt, arms, and torso as he used the tricorder. "Look at me, alright?"

"B...Bones?" Jim mumbled, blinking slowly. "Spock. Something's wrong. He...he...shielded me and..."

"Jim, you gotta remain still," McCoy ordered, holding Jim down as he stubbornly attempted to lift himself up, no doubt determined to find Spock. "You're bleeding and I have to find out where it's coming from."

"Arm." Jim shuddered.

McCoy pressed his mouth flat when he found the token gashes the creature's elongated claws left behind. McCoy worked to temporarily stop the blood flow, hating Jim's grimaces of pain. It could be worse but surgery was necessary to repair the wounds, as well as several rounds of dermal regeneration. He took further inventory of Jim's condition, noting that although Jim's blood loss wasn't life threatening, a blood transfusion was necessary. With some effort, McCoy pulled out a bloodied chunk of the creature's fur stuck to Jim's wounds and laid the matted, odorous fur aside. If alien bacteria found its way into Jim's system, and it was clear that it had even without a test, then McCoy wasn't messing around and an antibiotic was inevitable. The last thing Jim needed was a setback. This most certainly qualified as one but McCoy was determined he'd keep Jim's sickbay stay to a minimum.

"Your head hurting you, Jim?"

McCoy expected a no in true Kirkian fashion but Jim responded with a grimace and his eyes fluttered shut, another shudder coursing through his upper body. Jim's body temperature and possible shock caused the moderate shivering but McCoy was prepared.

"Hey, stay with me, Jim." McCoy gently slapped his cheek.

Jim's eyes jerked open, his teeth chattering.

"How's that sight of yours?" McCoy asked firmly. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I s...s..see shadows, Bones. Like b..b..before. B...Bones, you need t...t...to che..check on Spock. Please, B...Bones. He's..."

"He'll be fine, Jim. Nurse Chapel is tending to him," McCoy said. He checked his scanner again and could have winced at the reading. Thirty-four point two degrees Celsius. He pulled out the hypos he prepared earlier: a pain medication and a combination of buspirone and a lower dose of meperidine to counteract shivering without adding respiratory distress. After spreading the warming blanket he'd added specifically for any emergency involving Jim, he didn't hesitate to pull out the extra blanket he'd added to the medkit on a whim, either. "I'm going to give you something for the pain, Jim, as well as the shivering."

He spoke to give Jim proper warning since he knew his friend couldn't distinguish these specific movements - but it had the opposite desired effect. Jim's shoulders shook harder before McCoy even raised his hand.

"Relax, buddy." McCoy soothed, brushing some dirt off of Jim's forehead. "It'll hurt less, you know that."

"B...but...Spock..."

"Spock is doing better than you, right now, okay?" McCoy said smoothly. "And so that he doesn't worry about you, I need you to relax, alright?"

Jim exhaled a breath, allowing McCoy to administer the drugs in those few seconds. After the quick pinches of the hypos, Jim's eyes frantically searched for McCoy's face, and his uninjured hand reached up from under the blankets, fumbling at first until he had gathered McCoy's shirt in a loose fist.

"He...he...was unconscious, Bones," Jim insisted. "You c...can't allow him to do that...to help me with my m...m...mind like that...it...it's dangerous..."

"It won't happen again," McCoy answered, the white lie settling distastefully in his stomach as he glanced down at Jim. "Spock's fine, and I need you to be still so you can get warm."

Jim nodded slowly. McCoy had no idea whether or not a memory shatter would happen again, but he couldn't allow Jim's stress level to skyrocket and he couldn't sedate him, not with the concussion on top of those episodes. He needed Jim awake in order to watch his brain scans closely. He suspected he could ward off another memory shatter or at least prepare Jim for an impending one if he observed Jim's neural activity - and that forced McCoy into a corner. He'd use local anesthesia while he repaired Jim's arm and considering Jim's fairly recent experience without touch sensation, it was the last thing on earth McCoy wanted to do to Jim.

No matter the actions he took, McCoy continued to inflict more pain upon his best friend.

Jim's eyes finally glazed over. Relieved that the medication had kicked in to provide some level of comfort for Jim for all of his injuries - including a dislocated shoulder and several cracked ribs - McCoy gently pried his friend's hand from his shirt. He placed Jim's hand carefully on his chest underneath the warming blankets, satisfied to see that Jim's shivering had also eased. McCoy sighed, staring down at his best friend. Jim knew something, or at least suspected, and this indicated that more of the old Jim had slipped out - and a can of worms, opened.

An unprecedented wave of relief and anticipation washed over McCoy as he thought of finally being able to reveal the truth to Jim. He'd bore the weight of the mission for weeks, as had Spock. To be able to give Jim the proper understanding of his situation would be the right thing to do and the time for it couldn't have come fast enough.

They had crossed that bridge - McCoy could not allow Spock or Jim in the field until they found a solution to Jim's memory shattering. The implications cut deep and the danger inevitable, but McCoy had to push this troubling issue aside for now and focus on caring for what was right in front of him: his captain, whose penchant for risk-taking heroics transcended a devastating meld that, according to Spock and his contemporaries, possessed such strength and power no one had ever come across nor did they have the necessary knowledge to impart a resolution. That Spock even possessed the ability to help Jim through their bond was, in McCoy's professional opinion, nothing less than a goddamned miracle. But they needed more than that. The unconscious Vulcan twenty meters away proved it.

"Dr. McCoy," Sulu crouched beside them, but his words were quietly spoken and for the doctor only. "The area's secure. Nurse Chapel says Mr. Spock is unconscious, but stable. We'll beam back upon your word."

"We're ready now, Sulu," McCoy said.

"The captain got one." Sulu said, giving Jim a wry grin as he lifted his comm. "Nice shot."

McCoy couldn't help but allow his mouth to drop open as he stared down at Jim in shock.

"Five." Jim frowned. "Took five shots to take the bastard down, actually. Wasn't fast enough to get the other."

"You...you actually used the phaser?" McCoy asked.

Even blind, Jim never ceased to amaze him.

Jim squinted up at McCoy. "One of those things was a little...a little too close to my first officer, Bones. Couldn't let that happen. So I fired...to save Spock, my first officer."

They were going to be beamed back to the Enterprise at any second, but all McCoy wanted to do was to make sure he wasn't hearing things. McCoy's heart burst hearing the captain-like words flow from his best friend's mouth after all these weeks but he suppressed his reaction and treaded carefully, not wanting to error and say something that would force his friend to take a step back in his recovery.

"Your first officer, huh?" McCoy repeated casually.

"First officer." Jim murmured. "If my sight improves, someday, maybe, I can be your captain again. And be brave. Maybe even smart. I wasn't too smart today...should've acted faster..."

"You're our captain now, Jim, just like you've always been," McCoy said quietly. "And I know no one braver than my captain."

"Lemme take a bath...when we get back?" Jim's eyes fluttered shut.

"Only if you stay awake," McCoy patted him on the cheek. "Jim, you have a concussion. I can't have you going to sleep on me."

"You're a grouch when I have a concussion." Jim frowned at him through heavily lidded eyes. "And I mean it. I need a bath. Do they look as bad as they smell? Can't imagine..."

"Kid, as soon as I fix your hand, you'll be sitting pretty in a tub, I promise." McCoy grunted. "And they are ugly. Horrendous. You really don't want to know."

"I guess I got the better end of the deal," Jim sighed.

"You were hit harder in the head than I thought." McCoy said.

"One hugged me."

McCoy swept his hand over Jim's forehead. "You're lovable like that."

"Then I threw up on it." Jim's head rolled to the side. "While it hugged me."

"No wonder you stink." McCoy's brow furrowed, his impatience rising. Jim's face had lost color in just seconds. It was taking too long to return to the Enterprise. "Stay with me, Jim."

"Bones," Jim whispered, staring up at him. His hand slipped out from underneath the blankets and he fingered a portion of McCoy's shirt. McCoy leaned in and barely caught Jim's soft words before their molecules separated. "When we get back...we need to talk."

But he recognized their captain, reflected in the depths of those pure cerulean eyes.

Jim closed his eyes as they transferred him from the beaming platform to a hoverbed, the motion and blur of light turning his stomach. A hand brushed his forehead and a familiar Southern drawl ordered those around them. He heard mere snatches of the words tossed above and around him, for whatever Bones had given him did more than take away pain - Jim felt sated and loose-limbed. Normally, or so he thought he remembered, that much drugging irritated him. He got the impression that he'd been a man who liked to be in control of himself. He found comfort in the fact that being drugged still bothered him and as soon as the movements stopped making him feel like he was going to lose his lunch, Jim would insist that he speak with Bones about Spock.

He must had been more out of it than he thought. He didn't realize that they were in sickbay and his shoulder no longer dislocated until hands pulled his blankets off of him and cut his clothing from his body. His eyes opened at the rush of cool air and he shivered, feeling completely and helplessly conspicuous. Another chill went down his spine when hands placed something even colder on his scalp, and the sheet spread over his naked body.

"B...B...ones..." Jim called for his friend.

"We'll get you warm in a moment, Jim. I'm sorry. I know those things on your head are cold, not to mention your clothes were a mess. I thought maybe one of those smelly creatures were still hugging you," Bones' voice came from his left. Jim turned his head, peering at the light and a shadow that moved beside him. "That's what happens when you're all heroic and fight not one but two Sasquatches."

Jim snorted. "That wa...was...st..stupidi...t...ty."

"Stop beating yourself up, kid," Bones said. "If you hadn't acted, things may be worse right now. You did what you had to do, Jim. I can honestly say you did more than anyone else could have done in the same situation."

"Spock. Ho...how...is..?" Jim clenched his eyes shut when another cold wave swept over him, stealing his breath away.

"He's fine, and you are minutes away from surgery."

"Bones, I need to know." When Bones delayed in his reply, it was clear he had taken his best friend by surprise. Jim hadn't used the doctor's name that forcefully in a long, long time nor had he sounded so commanding. Sometime during this mission, he'd latched on to another part of his true self, and he was damn sure that he was going to use whatever pieces he remembered of the captain to get to the truth.

Bones sighed. "I can't let that be our focus right now, Jim - "

"This...can't happen...again. He could die," he said, emphasizing the heart of the matter.

Bones was quiet. "I need you to listen very carefully to me, Jim. I realize that and I know you realize that and that is why I am monitoring your brain activity very closely. Yes, Spock is unconscious, but I expect him to wake up soon, fit as a fiddle. I promise we will discuss this later. Now that I've told you this, I need you to remain calm so we can begin." Bones took a breath. "Other than feeling like you're on an ice planet again, are you doing alright? Do you feel any pain?"

"No pain," Jim blinked, then squinted as the lights dimmed and Bones' shadow waned. "Bones?"

"I'm right here, Jim," Bones squeezed his hand. Still worried for Spock, Jim didn't want Bones to let go, and surprisingly, the doctor didn't. "Jim, I have to explain what we need to do to prep you for surgery. The surgery itself will be a piece of cake, I promise, and the dermal regenerator will be your best friend for a few sessions."

"What'sit, Bones?" Jim asked, more calmly than he felt. He blamed the drugs again when his words began to slur but at least a soothing warmth crept from the tips of his toes up to his ears. "Drugged me?"

"Yes, but your speech and forgetfulness are also from that concussion."

"How's...Spock?" Jim's own words sounded far away from him.

"I already told you about Spock, Jim," Bones said gently. "He's gonna be fine."

"Oh." Jim blinked, not remembering that.

"Jim, I can't sedate you for the surgery on your arm, because I'm worried about that thick skull of yours. You're not totally aware of what's going on. We had to go with some more powerful drugs - and local anesthesia." Bones hesitated. "Do you know what this means?"

Jim tried to nod, honestly surprised that he did understand what that meant. His head felt thick and heavy but he managed to slur out that he did understand. He wouldn't be able to feel part of his body.

He wouldn't be able to feel part of his body.

"Shit," he whimpered. "Bones..."

"I know, Jim, I know, but Nurse Chapel will be holding your hand just like I am, alright?" Bones voice soothed him in his ear. "The entire time we'll both be here, but I need to know you're alright with this before I begin. Your body will also be strapped down for safety."

He wasn't okay with any of it but he didn't have a choice. Jim swallowed uncomfortably. "Bones, hate that."

"I know and I'm sorry, buddy. It won't be long, I promise, Jim." Bones' voice cracked. "If there was a different way, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Jim clenched his eyes shut. "I...'sfine."

"Anytime you feel it's not, let us know. If you can face Sasquatch blind, Jim, I know that you can do this," Bones said.

"No choice," Jim mumbled.

"Maybe there really isn't any choice, but you vocalizing that you can do this is exactly how you're going to get through it." Bones let go of his hand, a softer one taking its place.

"Bones," Jim said, welcoming the feeling as he felt himself drift off.

A warm hand swept over his forehead. "Captain, it's Nurse Chapel. Dr. McCoy is behind the curtain by your head, preparing to fix your arm. Keep your eyes open for me, Captain. Dr. McCoy is monitoring your brain during the surgery."

No other address seemed right. Jim's lips curved upward. "Cap'n, hmm?"

"I think you earned that title already. If I've heard correctly, you've proven you're still that man today," Christine said softly.

"Cap'n," he murmured, squinting up at her as the light behind her curiously caused her to appear angelic. He didn't think Nurse Chapel had ever appeared angelic to him before. She certainly never wore a halo until now. Maybe it was Bones' drugs, but it looked nice on her, and he wanted to hear that word again. "Say again?"

"I'd be honored to, Captain," she said lightly, squeezing his hand. He relaxed, not even noticing that he no longer felt his right shoulder down to his fingertips.

"You're...an angel," he murmured after a moment.

"Captain," she said softly, "I think that's the first time anyone ever said that I was angel. I am glad it was you who told me. Thank you, Captain."

"'Strue. Beautiful with halo."

"Captain, you definitely are feeling that cocktail the good doctor gave you." Christine chuckled and gave his hand a light squeeze.

"If you're finished flirtin' with Nurse Chapel, Jim," Bones grunted, "I'll have you know that we're just about ready to begin. See? I told you that you could do this."

Jim frowned. Being drugged didn't help his already shaky comprehension. "Flirting?"

"Giving a girl your attention to get their attention," Bones said dryly. "Like you're doing now with Nurse Chapel. You got her to call you captain four more times in under a minute and all you had to do was bat your pretty eyes at her, kid."

Jim widened his eyes, mortified. "What?"

Bones sniggered. "Jim, I hate to break it to you, but you're a damn good flirt. The thing is, despite what ya think and all that's changed for you, when you wear those hats of yours and blush like you're doing now, you still reel in the ladies like a pro."

Archer's chronometer inched past the morning hours and into the afternoon and now evening. He sighed, tapping four fingers on his PADD. What was that ancient Terran saying? The one his own mother quoted frequently? The watched pot never boils. He had one appointment remaining with yet another family adamant they were the long lost relatives of Soona, the woman Kirk and his crew rescued from Re'an V. He also had not heard yet from McCoy, which was his main concern. Since McCoy was a man of his word, Archer began to wonder of the success of the mission and contemplated contacting the Enterprise himself if he was not updated on the mission by the end of the day.

Enjoying retirement, Archer hadn't visibly been a part of Kirk's life at the Academy nor as he'd begun his captaincy. Archer remained behind the lines, of course. Politics had changed somewhat since then, and now Archer admittedly was no longer the same man he'd been before Khan had been loosed, Daystrom attacked, the Enterprise crippled...and Kirk and Pike killed.

He came out of retirement out of necessity, yes, but also to honor Pike's memory and the others who died. Since then, Archer had put more energy, time, and resources into Kirk and the Enterprise than anyone could possibly know. And Archer didn't want anyone to ever know.

He used the skills he'd acquired the past one hundred years or so to negotiate with other Federation member planets, compelling them to join in their search for a healer familiar with the Re'an. Weeks passed and there hadn't been a single lead. He also used the power he had to be the interviewer and final say of any family believing that the newly found young woman aboard the Enterprise was their long lost daughter, sister, or niece. The list was long and not a week went by when he didn't either speak to a tearful mother or a hopeful brother. After Kirk's sacrifice, he wanted no mistakes made. The fight against the Orion slave trade cultivated this massive missing persons database years ago and it spread across the Federation. As a Starfleet Admiral, he had every right to demand to be a part of this discovery process.

Archer sighed and packed up for the day, having heard, at last, that Kirk's condition was improved, but still precarious, and Spock's the same. That Spock and McCoy researched beyond what they included in their reports was correct. Especially Kirk's First Officer, as Spock relayed to Archer the communication that he had with members of his own species and countless others with telepathic powers. Archer promised them he was at work searching for someone who could help Jim in light of the new developments of these "memory shatters," sending them a memo two days ago that the search had spread, thanks to the cooperation of at least half of the Federation member planets.

The Re'an's secrecy surrounding their intricate telepathic ability had been a double-edged sword. Other species could not possibly begin to understand the complex telepathic system of the Re'an. Thus, the innocent succumbed to these powers. Neither were the Re'an able to maintain their way of life, although the Enterprise had been willing to help them find an alternative. The secrets of the Re'an had come at a great cost to all. In Archer's opinion, Kirk had paid that great cost.

Deciding the interested party had simply failed to appear, thus forfeiting their appointment, Archer grabbed his briefcase. He walked out his office door one hour after his normal time of departure.

"Shall I comm you, sir, if the family arrives after you're gone?" His assistant frowned up at him. "I am certainly surprised they are more than two hours late without a word. The committee said this very well may be the family of Soona. Her past matches up to the dates provided by the Enterprise, as well as initial facial scans, Admiral. Are you sure you don't..."

Archer shook his head. "Not today. I need to check on a few other things...people, mainly."

"How is he?" She asked softly.

It was unnecessary to state the name of whom she inquired, and Archer replied in no other way than he knew how - firmly and with confidence. "Improving. How could he not? He has the best damn doctor and the best damn First Officer beside him."

Archer commed his wife as he waited by the turbolift and noted only ten minutes had passed since he last checked his chronometer. He'd contact the Enterprise as soon as he returned home to check on Kirk's condition once again, and he'd step into the lift once the elderly woman made her way out.

But she didn't, merely removed a purple head covering and gazed at him with her dark, almost woeful eyes. He calmly noted she was a Betazoid. "You are Admiral Archer," she said in a rich, alto voice.

"Yes," Archer nodded, giving her a smile. "And you are?"

"Sonja's grandmother, Elise."

Archer searched the woman's deeply lined face. If he went by that name only, this certainly could be the family they were looking for. "You have an appointment with me, although you were not listed as one of the guardians of the young woman in question."

"No," she said slowly, her eyes piercing him. "Her parents refused to come if I planned to attend this meeting, as well. I miss my granddaughter, Admiral. How could I not come? My own daughter shunned her Betazoid heritage upon Sonja's kidnapping, but that is of no consequence. Before these doors opened, I sensed why my presence is necessary. It is not for Sonja."

Archer frowned. That made no sense. "The young woman on the Enterprise may very well be your granddaughter. Surely you wish to be reunited with her."

She tilted her head, her smile warm but subtle. "Admiral, I believe that I am here for Captain Kirk."