The first thing he remembers when his mind starts to come through is the stuff he wishes he could forget. Pain for one: the god awful sunburn, the cuts, his aching head and neck. Things like that. He's still in pain, not as bad as before but it's there. Except now he's lying on something soft. It's a relief, yet his body is still burning. He can smell as well as feel some kind of medicated salve on his skin. It smells like chemicals, almost chlorine like but with a burning tang to it like salty air blowing in from the ocean. It's to soothe the red blaze over his skin, he hopes. He's still burning.

He tries to turn, thinking the thin sheet over him is somehow causing his rocketed temperature, but hands are suddenly on him and pushing him back. He groans, trying to fight them, but they're strong and insistent. He's laid back down and sighs in relief when something cold is laid across his forehead. It feels good so he doesn't move. Something that feels like a ball on a stick is rolling across his inflamed skin, but leaving more of that salty chemical smelling gel in its wake. It does cool the pain of his sun blistered skin so he doesn't argue. He can hear voices above him, in that language he remembers from the two other people with pointy ears before.

Pointy ears…that's familiar…

He tries to crack his eyes open. He wants to see if the people talking have pointy ears. If they do, maybe he'll know one of them. Maybe they can help him remember why the heck he was wandering out there. His vision is still blurry but it slowly focuses and he sees a different man and woman above him, another man at the end of the bed he thinks from the direction of the third voice. The one closest to him looks down and the slanted eyebrows rise in what he faintly thinks is surprise. He speaks to the other man who comes forward to peer down at him. They all have similar features: Slanted dark eyes, slanted eyebrows, dark hair and pointy ears. The two men had hair cut in the same bowl-like style. The woman's done in an elegant braid held in the back with a pin. He wonders if their related.

"You are awake," the eldest says calmly, shining a light in his eye. "Barely. You have been near comatose for nearly eight days now. You had a bad concussion from your brain hitting the walls of your skull, yet you were walking around the desert in a daze. You suffered severe sun burns across your skin, you were severely dehydrated, several lacerations, and you were walking on a fractured ankle you somehow managed to ignore. We were convinced you would be dead by now," he finished blandly.

He blinks dully up at him and tries to wet his lips. Words, he knows words. The same words he's using, the same language. "W…where…?" he croaks. His voice is just a his of air escaping his mouth like a deflating beach ball.

The man regards him again before nodding and putting his little light away. "You are on Vulcan. We assume your ship crashed, but we have yet to locate it. The debris has possibly been carried off by various animals or swallowed by the sand."

His mind slowed at the mention of "Vulcan". That word was important. Slowly he felt pieces coming together in tenuous connections. It was like there was someone in his head trying to push them into place. Vulcan…I'm on Vulcan…I came to…to warn them…

"It seems however you have amazing recuperative abilities and stamina for a human. It will take time but we project you will make a full recovery of your physical body. You're mental capabilities, whatever they were, will likely return with time as well though you will most likely have some memory and cognitive problems. Those could take anywhere from days to years to recover, or possibly never."

Jim's vision started to blur partially through the monologue. He was still in a lot of pain, and so tired. His head was throbbing. There was more talking around him before he was out again.

For a long time it was a kind of pattern. He would sleep for days, wake up for just a few moments before he fell into unconsciousness for a while. He wasn't sure how much time passed. Every day a nurse shaved his face for him, which he was thankful for. And every couple of days he was sponged down, which was demeaning and made him want to object that he could at the very least bathe himself. In truth he could barely remain upright. When he was conscious though he was usually heavily medicated to avoid pain and him attempting to move too much before he was ready. That's what they told him anyway, but he wondered why they couldn't just tell him not to move. Apparently they thought he wouldn't listen. He decided that if he would ever be in control of his body again he would try to escape just to prove them right and try to get away.

When he wasn't unconscious or completely conscious he was floating in a kind of limbo between the two. In this limbo he pieced together his broken mind. He remembered he was someone important. People listened to him. He remembered fights. Those hurt, he didn't like those. Yet at the same time remembering the times he won felt good. He remembered women. A lot of women. He remembered sitting in a sea of people, listening to one person at the front of the room talking about numbers, theories, and understanding all of them. He still understood them, which he was grateful for. He remembered faces, places. The names came later. He had a brother, he knew. He couldn't remember his name yet.

He couldn't remember his own name. That was the one thing he really wanted right now.

His streaks of consciousness increased to almost a real schedule. He was still heavily medicated though, so all he could really do was lay down and stare at the ceiling, trapped in his own mind. It was a frightening thing to do.

Today though they didn't give him anything. He was grateful for that, it helped him think clearer. The little elf, he called it with an odd feeling of irony, in his mind that seemed to be putting things together for him was working better, faster. He was so close to remembering his name, and he thought if he could just remember that everything else would just fall into line. He would remember why he was here, how he got here, and how to get back to wherever wasn't here.

He also looked around during this time, trying to take things in, to understand. His mind supplied he was in a hospital. That meant these people were nurses and doctors. He remembered he didn't like doctors. He only liked one, and he knew he wasn't here even if he couldn't' quite remember him. The front wall of his room that led out to the main hospital was almost completely glass. He wondered if that meant he was important. Or if they just liked looking in on him like some kind of zoo specimen.

Then he saw something unexpected through the glass walls. It was a woman like him. He wasn't sure how he knew she was like him, but part of him saw her rounded ears and thought hey those are like mine. She was talking with the elder doctor who typically jabbed him with the needles of the stuff that made him sleepy. She seemed upset. He could tell with her cause she would frown and glare and do all those humany things humans did. He was human, he remembered now. Next to her was a tall, silent Vulcan, as he remembered they were called, with white hair and the same severe expression as every other Vulcan, though he did seem different somehow. Maybe not as standoffish as the others. He also looked familiar.

What was really surprising was the little boy that stood in front of them. He was small, young, rather cute but looked like he was doing his best to emulate the other men and keep his expression neutral. Now and then he would cast a worried glance around the building as if it scared him though. As he scanned the room their eyes met. The boy's eyebrows lifted and they stared each other down. He was propped up enough in the bed he could see him well. He blinked slowly and without really thinking lifted his hand a few inches from the bed and waved hello. The boy stared before turning and pulling the woman's sleeve gently, speaking to her. Her head snapped to the glass wall and she suddenly seemed even more impassioned. The doctor looked back at him, one eyebrow rising before he resolutely stood aside.

The woman gently guided the boy to the other Vulcan before marching to the door. A sound like air being sucked out followed but she slowed and walked over to sit next to him.

"Um…Hello?" she said softly. Her voice was nice, soothing. There was a touch of worry to it, and it made him happy. He'd started to forget what different emotions sounded like, looked like. Vulcan's didn't like using emotion for some reason he couldn't remember.

He nodded, not sure if he should start talking. He was usually put under when he did. She smiled.

"You can understand me?" He nodded again. "I knew they were exaggerating…they said you had gone mad from being out in the desert." He stared at her and she smiled. "Well…you were a little out of it at first, according to them. Evidently when you came through the second time you were delirious and actually asked what year it was."

Year… "What…is it?" His voice was rough and raspy with ill use so he tried to clear it.

She was surprised but then smiled again gently. "2238. You've been…here for almost a month and a half."

His eyes widened, his mind starting to catch up to him, the thing in his mind working faster to put him together with what was happening. That year sounded off…but part of him felt satisfied with it. Another felt terrified.

"Don't worry, you've recovered well so far. Your sunburn is almost gone. I wanted to come sooner but, after I found out about you, but…well, the doctor's didn't think I could do much since I'm not a doctor. And human," she added humorlessly.

"…"

She smiled. "You know where you are, right?"

"V…Vulcan…" He cleared his throat again.

She nodded, standing and going to a nearby table to pour a glass of water. "That's right, I knew they'd told you that. Do you remember how you got here? Why?" She returned and held it up to his lips to help him drink. He took the water greedily, wetting his lips with it and using it to try and clear his throat more.

"I…was trying to get here…for some reason…it was important…" A warning…but I don't know for what…And explosion?…should I tell her? No, that'll make her worry…or she'll think I'm crazy too…

She patted his shoulder with an encouraging smile and sat the near empty class on the table by them. "Don't force yourself. Do you remember anything before that? What about your name?"

"I…I'm trying…I kind of think…it might've started with a J…?"

"J? Hmmm…Want me to rattle off some names? It could help you remember."

He nodded, smiling slightly.

"Mmmm…Jeffery?" He wrinkled his nose and she laughed. "Okay, what about Jake? Jacob? James? Jackson? John?"

He stood up a little straighter. James…

"Hey, are you alright?" she squeezed his shoulder again and he looked at her.

The grasp he had on anything slacked a little and he lost whatever epiphany he had. He just smiled though, not wanting to upset her. "Y…yeah, just…sorry…"

She smiled and patted the shoulder. "It's no trouble. Why don't we call you Jay for now? Until you can remember? There's no hurry, really."

He nodded with a smile. "What's yours?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm Amanda. My last name is rather unpronounceable for most humans. I can only really do it now after a fashion and much practice. So just call me Amanda."

"Okay…um…you're human, right?"

She smiled like it was a secret joke he was about to be privy to. "Yes. If you're wondering why I'm here, it's because I happen to be married to one of these stuffy Vulcans."

Jim's eyebrows lifted, eyes brighter, his mind beginning to clear more with the medication leaving him further and getting to use his mind again. "Really?"

"Uh huh."

"…You are one brave woman, Amanda."

She laughed, and he found he liked the sound. "It's really not all that. I love Sarek, stuffiness and all. And you're surprisingly lucid."

Sarek…I know that name…"Feeling better, especially unmedicated and with someone to talk to."

She smiled sympathetically. "Well…we were discussing a few things like that. And given how you're acting, I think my idea is getting some good ground under it."

"Huh?"

She chuckled. "I'll explain later." She settled back and smiled a little more wanly. "Please forgive me for this, but I have to confess I was a little excited when I heard about you. I haven't visited earth in a couple of years, I sort of…looked forward to speaking with you."

"I…don't remember much of Earth still…"

"Oh, that's fine!" she said quickly. "I talk to my family back home all the time. I meant…will, I suppose I just looked forward to speaking to a human in person again. Don't get me wrong, my life here is very good and I love my family. I don't regret coming here. I just sometimes miss certain things about talking with humans…"

"Emotion?"

She smiled wryly now. "Sometimes. Although Vulcans are much more emotional than they would like you to believe. You just have to know what to look for."

"I'm guessing you're an expert?"

"Mmmm, almost. I will admit, even I'm lost sometimes." She smiled and relaxed. "When word reached Sarek and I that a human had been found wandering the desert a few miles outside the city to the east, I was both alarmed and excited. Then I was very afraid for you, when we learned how badly you were hurt. I asked if I could help treat you, since I figured you would find care from another human easier, but again I'm not a doctor."

"You do have nicer bedside manner…"

She chuckled. "It's nothing personal. Suppressing emotions the way they do, they sometimes forget others rather enjoy them. But again, they're not as good as they think sometimes. Sarek has been trying to find out who you might be by the way. Asking around the trade routes and so forth about any missing crew members. I told my mother about you and she thinks you're an escaped convict."

He chuckled now, coughing a little at the end. "I hope not. What a way to find out you're a bad person…"

She smiled again. "I don't think you are."

"You just met me…"

"Well, I'm a good judge of people. I have to be here, otherwise you can't tell who you're getting involved with because they all keep their cards close to their chest, so to speak."

That's an interesting way to look at it… he thought to himself. "What do you think-"

"Lady Amanda." They looked up to see the doctor standing at the door. "You're husband has been summoned to the council hall."

"What? But we just got here."

"My apologies, however, he was told it was urgent."

Amanda glowered before sighing and rising. "Wonderful timing…" She looked at him again before smiling. "I'll come back tomorrow, alright Jay? I'm going to bring some education discs and we're going to find out how much you remember and know. Then I promise we'll figure some way to get you out of here."

He smiled up at her. "I'd really appreciate that."

The doctor's eyebrow's lifted and Amanda looked fairly smug as she brushed past him.

"By the way, Doc," he said, his bravado coming from seemingly nowhere. "I'd appreciate you stopping doping me up. It's a lot easier to think this way."

Apparently the Vulcan doctors had severely underestimated the human ability to recover. They had thought Jim would still be in pain, which he somewhat was in a few places, but other than that he felt fine. His memory was still static in some places, but it did better as Amanda came in and helped him go through the disks. Evidently she used to be a teacher back on Earth. His high school education returned to him in two days, as well as a few other things he kept to himself because he wasn't sure how they would be taken. He wasn't sure how to take them himself. The fact he could hack computer systems and hot wire cars wasn't boding well for the thought he wasn't a convict. He didn't let on he remember things about fights and a lot of women either. Or his name, but he wasn't sure why he kept that to himself. It was only partially complete still, but that same voice in his head that seemed to know all the answers told him not to tell her or anyone else.

On the third day Amanda came in at the usual time and smiled. "Jay, would it be alright if someone else joined us later today?"

"Uh, sure. Your husband?"

"No, someone else. I want to keep it a surprise. He's a little shy, and quite…well…"

He smiled. "I've noticed a lot of Vulcans are kind of reticent to talk to me, till they realize I'm not a slobbering brain dead coma patient or mentally handicapped. If you don't count the memory loss. Or is it cause I'm human?"

"Oh, it's not that! It's mostly just being shy, I promise."

"It's fine, really, I was mostly kidding."

She smiled again and sits down. "You're such an easy going person. If I were you, I'd probably be half crazy with worry right now. On a strange planet with barely any memories..."

"Well, in the last month and a half I was in a ship crash and wandered aimlessly in a desert most humans wouldn't be able to stand for a few hours for a day. If I can survive that, I must be one awesome guy."

She laughed. "Oh, and so modest too."

"Of course. Really though, I'm happy that I seem to be coming to my senses. I'm sure I must be lucky to be regaining all my smarts so fast." Sometimes it feels like I had some help, but I don't know how that's possible…

"Very. When they first described you, I had worried I would have to convince them to get a mind healer for you.

"Mind healer?"

"Yes. Vulcan's are telepathic. They can get inside others minds sometimes, help fix things that have gone wrong in some people, or just share information."

"Y-yeah…that sounds…familiar…" Why does that sound familiar? I can almost feel it...in fact, I think I do. Is that why I'm recovering so fast? But why? Who would've done that?

"It's not as frightening as it sounds, I promise."

He jumped slightly but smiled as best he could to put those thoughts behind him. "Oh, you've had it done?"

"Er, well, not healed but I've…been privileged to a mind-meld several times…" From the way she blushed he had to grin.

"I see…with your husband I presume?"

She blushed more and frowned at him. "That's really not your business."

He laughed now and waved his hand. "I'm just teasing, really."

She smiled a little fondly and held up her cards and pad. "Let's start reviewing again. You seem to remember all your lessons, and some I'm surprised you even know."

"I guess I had a full education wherever I lived."

She nodded and they began, him going through history, English, Andorian, and computer science fairly easily.

Later in the afternoon a doctor came to the door. "Lady Amanda? You're son is here."

Jim sat up straighter. Son…? Oh! That boy form the first day?

"Oh good. Jay, I'll be right back." She stood and left the room gracefully. Coming back in moments later, she gently directed the small young boy in front of her stand before the bed. He was looking almost petulantly at the ground, though obviously trying to hide any such feelings from his mother or anyone else. He had the same haircut as all the other men, and oddly he thought it looked rather cute on this diminutive Vulcan.

Half-Vulcan, he realized. He's Amanda's son, so he's half-Vulcan…

"Jay, I want you to meet Spock. Spock, this Jay."

Spock? Jim felt a twinge go through his entire head at the name, as if several parts of it that had been shut down were suddenly going into work again without any maintenance, gears grinding sharply.

The boy looked up, regarding him with dark eyes that were so familiar, the gear at work were going into overtime. Do I know this kid?

"…Greetings," Spock said quietly.

"Uh, hey…" he said, fighting to keep the wince of pain out of his face. He held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Spock stared at the hand, blinking once.

"Ah, Jay, I'm afraid Vulcans don't shake hands."

"Oh? Uh, sorry then…" He reclined back again, folding his hands in his lap like he didn't know what to do with them now.

"…It is fine. You were not aware of Vulcan custom, it is illogical to fault you."

He arched his eyebrow at the kid. He talked almost just like one of the older Vulcans, which was…weird. Yet familiar again.

"Spock, would you sit with Jay a moment? I'm going to go get us all a snack."

Spock looked about to object but he paused and instead went dutifully to the seat by the bed as his mother left.

"…Your mom is a great lady."

Round dark eyes looked at him appraisingly. "…I do not find her objectionable."

"…yeah…" He was still nursing the migraine like headaches through his mind and sighed, rubbing his hand over his temple. "So…how old are you, Spock?"

"I have just turned seven years old last month."

"Seven?" I thought he was like six…

The glare he gave him signified he knew what he was thinking. "My…unique heritage has apparently given some difficulty to my physical development. I assure you, my mental development is-"

"Whoa, Spock, don't get defensive. I never assumed anything about your mental development, and nothing wrong with growing a little slower than some. Everyone grows at their own rate."

He said nothing and an awkward, to him at least, silence fell over them. His head continued to beat out the seconds for him. "Uh, could you do me a favor? Pour me a glass of water on the table there? I'd do it myself but if I get out of bed they try to sedate me."

Spock regarded him a moment before standing again. He had to push the chair to the table so he could properly handle everything and he tried hard not to laugh. For some reason he really wanted this kid to like him. And some part of him didn't think it had to do with Amanda, not wholly. He wasn't the type to start falling for a married woman he hoped.

Spock poured the water and then returned to him, holding the glass up to him with both hands. "Are you in pain?"

"Not as much as when I first came here. Just some headaches now and then really." He reached down and wrapped his own hand around the glass, and his finger just barely grazed the skin of the boy's hand when there was something like an electric shock through him. A floodgate in his mind was opened his grip slipped as he doubled over, not screaming but breathing heavily. Spock set the glass he'd managed to keep hold of down on the floor and ran out the door. A moment later Amanda rushed in, going to his side and trying to sit him back.

"Jay? Jay?! What's wrong?!"

Jay…James…Jim…His eyes snapped open, the pain fizzling away like a million effervescent carbonated bubbles from an opened soda bottle, any obstructions vanishing with them. I'm James Tiberius Kirk. Captain of the USS Enterprise.