Chapter 5

When he woke, it was to the sound of soft voices nearby. His left hand was still warmer than the rest of him, Spock’s hands surrounding his. He lay still, trying to decide if it was worth the effort to open his eyes. He didn’t think he would like the results when he did and chose not to move until he had absolutely no choice.

“How long has he been asleep?” the voice he knew belonged to Admiral Pike asked.

“Five hours,” Bones’ voice responded. “I expect he’ll be wakin’ up any time now.”

Jim knew that meant that Bones knew he was already awake. Damn sensors. At least Spock hadn’t given him away. Jim gave up the pretense and allowed his eyes to slowly open. Not good. The room was spinning and his temporary bed wanted to throw him off. He closed his eyes back tight, taking his left hand from Spock and holding it over his mouth. A futile effort but he had to at least give it a try.

“Oh dear,” Bones said from closer by. “Vertigo?”

Jim may have nodded but didn’t bother to try and figure it out. Seriously, had the Enterprise lost all her gravitational stabilizers? “Bones,” he croaked in desperate need.

“Okay, Jim. Try to relax. I know it’s hard. Here. This will help.” And with that, Jim felt the all too familiar plunging of the hypo into his neck. Crap, he hated it when Bones did that to him.

“Bad,” Jim whispered, his left arm over his eyes, the IV line trailing across his face.

“I know. The medicine will help in just a minute,” Bones soothing voice promised.

“How did you know he has vertigo?” Pike’s voice asked quietly as though he didn’t want to risk waking Jim up. Which was a little silly, Jim thought while enveloped in his fog. ‘I’m not asleep.’

“It almost always happens to him, sir,” Bones explained. “The meclizine will help in a few minutes. Then he’ll be able to open his eyes without worrying about falling off the bed.”

“Falling off the bed?” Pike repeated in barely disguised amusement.

“Unfortunately, it has happened in the past, sir,” Spock said. “We try not to leave the Captain unattended if at all possible.”

“I see,” Pike said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Jim. I know it’s not funny.”

“Not to me,” Jim said, slowly lowering his arm to focus on the Admiral. “I’m used to it. Apparently my medical conditions are a vast source of amusement to the entire crew.”

“Stop being so cranky,” Bones scolded gently.

“I think I have every right to be cranky,” Jim decided, frowning up at the Doctor.

“Well, sure. But what Earthly good does it do you?”

“None,” Jim conceded. “Can I have something to eat?”

“You have vertigo and you’re hungry?” Pike asked in amusement.

“Well,” Jim said, considering the question. “The hypo helped. And I haven’t eaten much of anything in… a while.”

“True,” Pike had to agree. He looked over at the Doctor who nodded.

“I’ll get you some soup. Tomorrow you can try something more solid,” Bones said.

“Thanks. Could I have a little Pepsi?” Jim requested.

“A little,” Bones agreed before leaving the room and Jim in the safe company of the Admiral and Spock.

“Your head isn’t spinning now?” Pike asked in sympathy, sitting down in the chair that had mysteriously appeared, Spock in the other.

“Not like it was,” Jim said, taking a deep breath and coughing softly as a result.

“That sounds bad,” Pike decided.

“No, it’s normal,” Jim assured him. “Too many previously broken ribs apparently.”

Pike could only shake his head at that, smiling at Jim fondly. “You are a mess.”

“I know. Thankfully I have the best CMO in the ‘fleet.”

“Good thing for you and your crew,” Pike confirmed.

“I think so,” Jim agreed. “How’s things on my Bridge?”

“The Bridge is fine. The Enterprise is fine. The crew can barely stand having anybody that’s not you in the center seat,” Pike told him.

“I find the same to be true,” Spock added.

“I’m sorry?” Jim said with a tiny shrug.

“You shouldn’t be,” Pike assured him. “If you weren’t the finest Captain in the ‘fleet, your crew wouldn’t miss you the way they do.”

“Thank you,” Jim said sincerely. “I have the finest crew.”

“That you do,” Pike agreed. “That you do. We will arrive at Mekellen in 34 hours. Since they won’t negotiate with Spock, I’d like to know from you who to assign to the away team.”

“The Mekellens won’t talk to Spock?” Jim asked.

Pike and Spock exchanged a glance at that question before Spock broke the silence. “It is well known that since the destruction of my planet, the Mekellens consider the presence of a Vulcan an ill omen.”

“Oh,” Jim said with a frown. “Well. You’ll want to take Uhura. And…uhm…” Jim looked at Spock in question, hoping he would be able to add to the list. If one person qualified as a list.

“I’m sorry, Jim. You’re clearly not up to this just yet,” Pike said in apology, glancing again at Spock. “We’ll discuss it again tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Jim agreed.

“Do you have a headache?” Spock asked, studying him closely, his black eyes not missing anything, including the furrows on Jim’s forehead.

“No. But I do feel like my brain is wrapped in a thick fog,” Jim admitted, taking a deep breath.

“I think that’s to be expected,” Pike said, one hand over Jim’s.

“What’s expected?” Bones asked as he entered with a bowl in one hand, a glass of bubbling Pepsi in the other.

“Jim stated that he feels as though his brain is shrouded in fog,” Spock explained.

“It is normal, Jim,” Bones assured him. “It’s a wonder you are as coherent as you are.”

Jim nodded at that, using his left hand to awkwardly try and eat the soup being held by the Doctor, the spoon not entirely stable as he brought to his mouth.

“I think I’m going to get some dinner myself,” Pike decided, standing. “I’ll come back tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

“I look forward to it,” Jim said with a tiny smile on his weary face.

“So do I. Sleep well,” Pike said, patting his shoulder before leaving.

“Let me help you,” Bones said, sitting on the edge of Jim’s bed and spooning up the soup for him.

“This is ridiculous,” Jim complained as he accepted more soup.

“Stop being cranky,” Bones scolded, giving him more. “Your shoulders are still sore. Your right hand is unavailable. And you have never been able to eat with your left.”

“Why do you keep calling me names?” Jim asked but not managing to sound as indignant as he would prefer.

“Because you deserve it. And cranky is more an adjective than a name per se.”

“You called me stupid earlier,” Jim reminded him.

“Only because you deserved it,” Bones responded.

Spock silently observed their comfortable by-play, knowing that he was quite possibly the only person they would allow to witness this unique way they had of communicating. Or the fact that the Doctor was essentially feeding the Captain. Being in their company made him feel like he was home.

Home. That word had various meanings and degrees, Spock decided as he watched Bones continue to provide Jim with the soup.

He mourned the loss of Vulcan, as did every surviving member of his species, and many of those who were not Vulcan. But in truth, it had never been home to him. Where he lived, yes. Where he grew up and was educated. That did not make a place a home. Home was where you were accepted completely and without question. Where you did not have to explain yourself or try to be someone you were not.

Earth had become more comfortable to Spock after he had been there for several years. But it was not home either. The Enterprise was home. When the Captain was aboard. Home was not a location. It was an idea, a concept, a warmth that you felt for those around you, a warmth that they felt for you. Maybe his Vulcan heritage should have made him immune to such thoughts, and to his sentimental attachment to the ship and those aboard her. But he refused to deny the sense of security and belonging that he had been granted by virtue of being a member of Jim Kirk’s crew.

He knew that not all starships were as fortunate as was theirs. He had heard of the rivalries that threatened to destroy some crews, the bitterness that grew from too many people living and working in too confined a space. The Enterprise was not immune from all in-fighting but their crew was by far the most harmonious that he had ever experienced. And he was certain that the atmosphere on their ship was quite different from the norm. For that they all owed thanks to their unique Captain. The crew did not work as one cohesive unit, one family really, purely by happenstance. Jim made sure. He led by example, showing his crew the way with his kindness, his self-discipline, his willingness to put others before himself. And he encouraged laughter and smiles. ‘A happy crew is a productive crew,’ he told Spock when he asked why there seemed to be so many more “special” occasions aboard their ship than any other.

“When we celebrate something as simple as the summer solstice or as silly as Talk Like A Pirate Day, we’re celebrating our friendship,” Jim explained. Spock could not argue with his logic or his method, although many suspected there be madness in it. He had watched the 430+ crewmembers go from co-workers to friends to family. As it should be.

“As soon as you can walk to the bathroom by yourself,” McCoy was saying in a tone Spock knew to be one of exasperation.

“Tomorrow night,” Jim countered in his best ‘I have more aces than you’ tone, one to which the Doctor was completely immune.

“No. When you can get to the bathroom I said. You haven’t moved under your own power for more than a month. You honestly believe I have any intention of letting you go from Med Bay until I know you are on your way to being well?”

“Spock. Help me out here,” Jim requested, swatting away Bones’ hand when he tried to wipe the last of the soup from the Captain’s chin.

“Regrettably, I must agree with the Doctor in this instance,” Spock said, making Jim frown at him.

“Thank you, Spock,” Bones said, standing and taking the empty bowl with him. “Speaking of going to the bathroom, do you want Spock to help you over to it?”

“No,” Jim decided with a shake of his head. “I’ll use, you know, the… uhm….” Jim stopped, the color creeping up his cheeks.

“Okay. Spock,” Bones said in request. Spock nodded, leaving the room until McCoy told him the coast was clear.

“Go sleep in your own bed,” Jim told McCoy as the Doctor fussed over him.

“You sure?” McCoy asked, studying him closely. “The couch in my office isn’t so bad.”

“No, Bones. Go sleep in your bed. I’ll be fine. And Spock is staying. If I need you, which I won’t, Spock will let you know.”

“You okay with me leaving?” Bones asked Spock.

“You need to rest, Leonard,” he responded, surprising the other two men with his unusual familiarity.

That was some talk they had, Jim thought.

“Alright. Wake me up if he so much as sneezes,” McCoy insisted, Spock nodding.

“Of course,” Spock agreed.

“You want a pain reliever?” Bones asked Jim, studying his face for signs of those things Jim thought he could hide.

Jim actually considered that question briefly before reluctantly agreeing.

“Well,” Bones said as he carefully gave him the injection. “I expected the usual argument.”

“You’d still win. And I prefer being able to sleep,” Jim admitted.

“You prefer it to what?” Spock asked, making them laugh.

“To staring at the ceiling and wondering why my body hates me,” Jim said.

“Go to sleep,” Bones said with a shake of his head. “You going to be okay?” he asked Spock.

“I will be fine,” Spock assured him. “I plan to meditate.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning,” Bones said to Jim, patting his shoulder one last time before leaving.

“Thank you,” Jim said to Spock when they were alone.

“For what?”

“For watching out for him. He’d run himself ragged otherwise,” Jim said knowingly.

“His affection for you is obvious. An affection shared with every member of your crew,” Spock said.

Jim shook his head at that. “Not Bayher in Engineering. He thinks I’m an idiot.”

“True. Unfortunate,” Spock said, scooting his chair a little closer to Jim’s bed. “Do you want me to read to you?”

“No. I appreciate it. I think I’ll be okay,” Jim said. “Why does he hate me so much?”

“I believe he is jealous,” Spock decided. “Nyota mentioned that he was in your Advanced Theoretical Physics class and you were the only other person to score a perfect grade.”

“He was in my class?” Jim asked, trying to remember. “Hmm…I might have remembered that if I had gone on a regular basis.”

“You scored a perfect grade in a class you did not attend?” Spock asked.

“Yeah,” Jim confirmed. “We had Dr. Burnside. He told me the first day of class that I had no business being at the Academy despite my last name. And he knew beyond a doubt I’d fail his class.”

“Unfortunate,” Spock said with a shake of his head. “Did you tell the Provost of his statement?”

“No,” Jim said with a soft laugh. “The Provost and I met several times about other… matters. Don’t think he was too interested in my opinion of the faculty.”

“I did not know your experience at the Academy was so unpleasant,” Spock said.

“It was different from most,” Jim agreed. “And no disrespect, but there was no way in hell I was going to fail the Kobayashi Maru.”

“I can see why now,” Spock agreed, studying Jim in a new light. “I am sorry that I had you brought up on charges.”

Jim shook his head at that, a smile on his weary face. “We’re way past that now, Spock. You were right but even in retrospect, I’d have done the same thing.”

“This does not surprise me,” Spock said making Jim laugh. “I should not have invoked your father’s memory to further hurt you.”

Jim waved away his words. “It’s fine. You had a point to prove.”

“As did you,” Spock confirmed, leaning forward slightly and taking Jim’s left hand into his own. “I will endeavor to make it up to you once you are fully recovered.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jim said, a sparkle in his eyes that had previously been missing.

“Sleep now. I will remain.”

Jim nodded, letting his eyes drift closed, comforted by Spock’s presence and the warmth he was transmitting through their entwined hands.