Freed from Ice (Star Trek AOS, Spock, M)

[Kathy]

This is a possible continuation of this wonderful story from @mystic-chibi. I hope they don't mind that I have written a possible continuation, as they sadly did not reply to my comment at the end of their fic. Anyway, fanfiction of fanfiction should generally be just as fair game as fanfiction of original works, so I thought I would just share this with you.

Here is the original work: 

 

Part VIII

"One more tube and we are ready to go, sir."

 

"Thank you, Thompson. I've got the power cell in position. Let's try this again!"

 

"Aye, Captain"

 

Thompson held the last tube in place as Kirk pulled the switch and – nothing.

 

"Dammit! One of the power cells inner circuits must've been damaged! How much time do we've left, ensign?"

 

"About… 43 minutes, sir."

 

"Good. Try if you can find out what's wrong with this thing, I'm going to check out the rift the others fell into." Kirk handed the power cell over to Thompson and skirted in the direction where he had last seen his friends.

 

"Good luck, Captain!"

 

 

Spock looked up at the wall of rocks in front of him.

 

"Doctor, I believe displacing this rock will dismantle the entire structure of the barricade and allow us enough space and hold to climb up to the surface. Will you please stand back to ensure your safety?"

 

"Ye-Yeah, Spock, just… just gimme a – a minute..." McCoy panted.

 

"Doctor, are you alright?"

 

"M' fine, Spock… Just… out of breath..."

 

It seemed that the Rayon leak had lowered the concentration of oxygen in the cave to critical levels for humans. Rayon was heavier than air and would therefore concentrate on the bottom of the crevasse. Spock could not yet feel the effect on himself. As a Vulcan he was accustomed to significantly thinner atmospheres, but his illness made it difficult to assess the situation accurately. He gave a frustrated sniff but was still largely unable to smell the gas.

 

"Doctor, I am going to displace the bolder on the count of three. Please step back as far as you can!"

 

"Oh.. Okay..."

 

"One… Two… Three!"

 

Spock pulled at the large rock with all his considerable strength and staggered back as the barricade tumbled down with a crashing sound. He could see the light of the opening some twenty-five foot above his head. The fallen rocks would hopefully provide sufficient hold for a climb.

 

"Spock… Spock!"

 

"Doctor, are you unharmed?"

 

Spock took a moment to assess the physical state of his companion. He could not detect any outward signs of injury, but the dazed look on the doctors face and his slumped position against the wall of the cage revealed that he was close to loosing consciousness.

 

"We have to start the climb now, Doctor. If you will permit me to a- assist..." He trailed of with a strong sneeze to his side.

 

"Hu'IshHIiISHh!"

 

"Mhh… Bless 'ya..."

 

Spock heaved McCoys limb body over his shoulder, trying to position him in a way that would secure him from falling while still allowing Spock some freedom of movement for the climb. When he lifted the Doctor, who seemed barely conscious by now, he noticed a faint light-headedness. He hoped that the sensation originated from his growing exhaustion and his mild fever instead of a further decrease of oxygen in the surrounding air.

 

"Please hold on, Doctor."

 

He got no response, as his companion had fainted completely by now. Spock carefully started to climb over the pile of rocks in front of him.

 

 

Captain Kirk was walking towards the rift in the glacier when he suddenly heard a low rumble from beneath the pile of rocks.

 

"Captain, is there another cave in?"

 

Kirk waited about a minute to see if the ground would give in further.

 

"No, ensign, the ground seems stable. Keep up with fixing the power cell."

 

He carefully stepped forwards to look into the now open abyss in the glacier.

 

"Spock! Are you okay? What's wrong with Bones?"

 

"The crevasse was suffused with Rayon and the Doctor experienced hypoxia as a result."

 

The Vulcan had managed to scale about half of the unstable rock wall already, carrying the doctor on his back and securing him with one hand.

 

"And what about you, Spock? You're feeling okay? The Rayon's not affecting you?"

 

"Ah...Affirmative, Captain."

 

Spock wriggled his nose and gave a sharp sniff as he answered.

 

"Hey, you're almost there. If you lift Bones up a little, I think I can grab him now."

 

"Alright, Captain."

 

Kirk kneed down and grabbed Bones by the arms as the Commander lifted the lifeless form of the Enterprise's CMO off his back with one hand, the other clinging to the rock wall. Those were the instances when Kirk admired his friend's superior Vulcan strength.

 

"Okay, now push him up a little further – uff!"

 

The young Captain gasped as he successfully pulled his friend onto the ground beside him. While still unconscious, the doctor at least gave a groan as his body hit the ground.

 

"Thank you, Spock!"

 

"Ca… Captain – huh!"

 

Kirk looked down into the crevasse, where his first officer was valiantly holding onto the rocks while desperately trying to suppress a sneeze.

 

"Hu..HnNGXxt! He..HNGXsSHhtt!"

 

"Spock!"

 

The shudder was enough to dislodge an unstable rock under his feet, leaving Spock hanging by just one arm next to the opening.

 

"Spock!"

[supernaturalfragalistic]

AmaZing! Keep going! This works so perfectly with the original fic

[Kathy]

54 minutes ago, supernaturalfragalistic said:

AmaZing! Keep going! This works so perfectly with the original fic

Thank you!

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Spock was trying to pull himself up with his other hand, but his grip slipped on the ice. Jim crawled forward and grabbed his First Officer's arm immediately.

"Spock! Can you give me your other hand?"

"Yes, Captain."

Spock complied and Jim helped his friend up onto solid ice as both panted heavily.

"Wow, you're heavier than you look, Spock!"

Kirk gave his friend a pat on his lean back.

"Vulcan muscle den… densi – hii… HiiihiSchu'uh! Hii-IiishuUHh!"

The sneezes into hastily steepled hands were followed by a shiver, a sound that sounded suspiciously like a groan, and a few heavily congested sniffles. Jim worriedly looked at the other man's slumped posture on the ground and the pallid complexion of his face, contrasting with his bright green nose and blushed cheeks.

"Bless you, Spock. That sounded pretty terrible. Do you wanna rest for a minute or something?"

Spock gave another sniffle and looked up at Jim with bleary eyes.

"Have you finished with the construction of the signaling tower, Captain?"

"We've got the tower all set up and Thompson is trying to repair the power cell right now. One of the things inner circuits must have been damaged."

"Then it would be most logical for me to assist in repairing the power cell, as we have only got 36 minutes left until the Enterprise enters our visual range and I am the most suited member of our party for the task, despite my… current condition, Captain. I can rest once we have established contact with the ship."

"Alright, Commander. I'm gonna look after Bones, you go help, Thompson."

As if on cue, McCoy stirred where he lay on the ground next to them, his eyes beginning to flutter as he regained consciousness.

Spock got up with a nod and a sniff and began walking towards the other side of the camp where Thompson was presumably still busy with the power cell.

"Hey… Jimmy boy…"

Jim helped Bones into a sitting position as he slowly regained his senses.

"How long was I…"

"A few minutes, I think. Spock said something about Rayon in the crevesse and you suffering from hypoxia."

"Yeah, there was the gas…"

McCoy looked down into the slim rift.

"Did Spock carry me up here? Where is the green-blooded hobgoblin, anyway?"

"Yeah, he climbed up here with you on his back. And then he went to help Thompson with fixing the power-cell. We've got less than half an hour left to get your plan working."

"Well, then we better get going, too. Can't have the construction give in again this time. At least not if we don't wanna freeze to death here. And it's probably time I checked again on Hardy, too."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Ensign, would you lift the red cable 1.4 centimeters higher, please?"

"Yes, Commander."

Thompson and Spock said close together, with Thompson carefully holding the power cell steady as Spock repaired the delicate internal wiring. The Commander would have normally done it all by himself, but after the close call with the climb, he estimated that there was a 23% chance that he would sneeze again and upset the wiring. He gingerly connected two delicate copper cables and insulated them securely before lifting his hand to rub an increasingly ticklish nose.

"The power cell should be fully operational. We simply have to close and re-attach it to the – Huh... HuMMF! Heh.. Hu-UMPFfuh!"

Spock blinked somewhat dazedly and sniffed yet again.

"Excuse be."

"Bless you, Commander. I think I can manage to close and re-attach the cell on my own, if you would like to… um… rest a bit."

The Ensign rubbed his neck sheepishly. While offending the Commander was a daunting prospect, he currently looked utterly sick and exhausted, not to mention the sound of his awfully congested voice. Thompson did not want him to push himself even further. He only hoped the Vulcan would appreciate his concern.

"Thank you, Thompson. That would be wise."

Spock punctuated the statement with a desperate sniffle. Ensign Thomson gave him a small smile before turning his attention back to the power cell, just as Kirk and McCoy approached the pair.

"Heya, Spock, I thought thanking people was illogical?"

Spock raised an eyebrow at the doctor's remark, though his watering eyes and runny nose made the gesture look pitiful rather than intimidating. The sudden sneeze that followed did not help, of course.

"He… Iiishuuh!"

"Bless you, Spock. Come on, Bones, don't tease him when he's already miserable. And Thompson, good work. Could you prepare for a quick test of the thing? I think we have maybe fifteen minutes for final adjustments."

"Thirteen minutes and 17 seconds, Captain. And while I… appreciate the concern, I am quite capable to withstand the doctor's "teasing", as you call it."

"That's good, Spock because if this thing works I'm not gonna waste any time on checking you over. You sound like hell, you stubborn Vulcan."

"I'm not surprised that you should be personally familiar with the conditions of purgatory, doctor."

"Um, Captain, should I connect the power cell now?"

"Yes, Thompson, that would be great!"

"Okay, sir. Here it goes…"

 

 

[supernaturalfragalistic]

😍😍😍😍😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

[Kathy]

Part X

 

The water finally began to shoot through the pipes and McCoy wasted no time dragging Spock out of the mist as he and the Captain marveled at the glowing jellyfish that assembled around the jet stream.

"Come on, hobgoblin, there ain't no sense in making your cold even worse by gettin' wet."

While the Captain and Ensign switched the power cell off again, Spock was forced by McCoy to sit on the second bed in the sickbay tent.

"How is Lt. Hardy's condition, doctor?"

The doctor looked up from the tricorder he was calibrating for Vulcan-human hybrids and checked the monitor next to Hardy's bed.

"Bit worse than a few hours ago, blood O2 has gone down by 4 percent. I've given him the last hypo while you and Thompson were busy with the power cell. The tri-ox doesn't seem to be helping much at this point."

"I see. I estimate – He'MmMFFt – I estimate that we have to wait about 47 minutes for a shuttlecraft to find our exact location and land securely once the Enterprise has established our approximate position by visual confirmation. Boarding the shuttle will take another 3.4 minutes if we leave all non-essential supplies behind. The flight back will take an estimated 9.7 minutes, depending on the…"

"Spock. Come to the point. And blow your nose, I can barely understand you."

McCoy handed him a piece of gauze. Spock opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and accepted the cloth with a defeated sigh before turning his head to give his nose a congested blow.

"Doctor, I was simply inquiring whether Lt. Hardy will survive the transport and how much time we are going to have to find a cure for the Lieutenant once we are aboard the Enterprise."

"Well, I hope he's going to make it to the ship. And once we get him on life support, we could have weeks. But the last tricorder reading revealed some pretty strange form of tissue damage. Can't specify what it is with this kind of equipment, but once it's reached a certain point it's likely that the whole lung might die. And it seems to be spreading to other organs and clogging up veins and arteries, too."

"I see, doctor."

McCoy had started to examine Spock with his tricorder. The whirring noise was painful to the Vulcan's already inflamed ears, but he did not bat an eye.

"You're actually pretty worried about Hardy, huh? I thought you don't like each other much."

"I am simply trying to assist in the recovery of -"

"Hang on! Spock, you have four fractured ribs!"

"I was aware of that fact, doctor."

"Yes, I can imagine. Must have hurt like hell, especially with all the sneezing. And carrying Hardy on your back for two hours scaling the glacier. Or carrying me out of that damn hole we fell into. God, Spock, you must have been in agony! Why didn't you tell me? I could have fixed that in a few minutes."

"I wished to conserve the energy reserves of the osteogenic stimulator, as you had already used it on Thompson and the Captain, which left the device with only 43% of its battery life and it was still possible that more serious injuries might occur during our forced stay on the planet. As I was aware that my ribs were merely fractured and not fully broken, almost eliminating the risk of further complications, I thought it wise not to inform you of my injury, as you would have insisted on treating me regardless of my logical objections."

"Of course I would have. Four broken ribs and a serious head cold and you're running around as though you're perfectly fine. Damn Vulcan stubbornness."

"Doctor, I… Hii'Iiishuu! Hih-Hngtt'uh!"

"Bless you. Now, hold still so I can fix your ribs. And don't you dare say it's illogical. In fact, just stop speaking, given how badly your throat is inflamed that must be unnecessarily painful, too."

Spock shivered as Bones unzipped his jacket and pulled up his shirt to have better access to Spock's heavily bruised torso. To his credit, the Commander remained silent the entire time. Though this began to worry Bones, as the Vulcan must be really exhausted for him to get the last word. While his readings had shown a slightly higher temperature for Spock than usual – 34.2 °C instead of the customary 32.8 °C – McCoy was unsure how to judge the discrepancy in temperature.

Full Vulcans generally did not experience fevers as part of their normal immune response, but the human part of Spock's immune system frequently supplied his bloodstream with high levels of pyrogens when he was injured or ill with some strange new space disease. In those cases, the hybrid's temperature usually shot through the roof – or rather very quickly to what would constitute a mild fever in a human. Given that Vulcan physiology was built to withstand both drastic changes in as well as particularly high temperature, this usually did not seem to bother Spock much, so his current exhaustion was uncharacteristic.

"Hey, Spock, when was the last time you slept and ate? Or drank something for that matter? You seem really tired and I wanna make sure 'tis really just a cold or your species' equivalent thereof."

"I have last slept… 88 hours ago, doctor, and had my last meal and drink 42.6 hours ago, just before we left the starbase."

"Conserving our ration packs, too? Come on, you've got to drink something, at least. We've got enough water left, and anyway, hydration is important when you're ill. And you're also taking that blanket. No, you're taking all our blankets. God, you must be half-frozen to be shivering like that."

[Kathy]

Part XI

 

"Captain, according to Commander Spock's calculations, the Enterprise will be within range in…  one minute and 17 seconds."

"Okay, better put the steam on now so that the jellyfish have time to assemble. Thompson, on my command."

"Aye, Captain."

"Three… Two… One… Now!"

"Captain! It works!"

"Yes! Now the ship only has to see it and we're safe. Good job, Thompson!"

Kirk and Thompson were soon walking towards the tents as the jellyfish produced a massive beam of bright, purple light a few hundred feet away.

Once they reached the entrance of the tent, Kirk was somewhat alarmed to hear the sound of coughing from inside.

"Hey, we just set up the steam – How are the patients, Bones?"

"Hardy is still slowly deteriorating and the hobgoblin is even more stubborn than I thought."

"Stubborn? Bones, he's basically coughing his lungs out! He wasn't coughing before, like, twenty minutes ago!"

Jim sat down next to Spock, who was still sitting on the bed, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, coughing productively. Now that his ribs did not hurt with every breath and he was properly hydrated, he allowed his body to relieve the congestion that was beginning to build up in his chest. The captain started to lightly rub circles into his first officer's back as the CMO attempted to explain the situation.

"Yeah, well, it would have hurt a hell of a lot more twenty minutes ago. And that damn Vulcan has far too much control over his bodily functions, more than is good for him."

"What do you mean, Bones?"

"Four cracked ribs is what I mean, Jim!"

"Spock! You said your injuries were minor!"

"Dammit, Jim, you knew he was injured? Seriously, by now you should know that the damn Vulcan will call everything a minor injury that won't kill him within the next five minutes."

"Doctor, my injuries were neither life-threatening nor likely to cause permanent damage, even if left untreated. And the pain was manageable."

"Spock, you're able to "manage" pain that's so bad that it literally kills people!"

"Pre… Precisely. Hih...HiiNgxxt'uh! IiiiShuu'uuh! Besides, I must remind you that I am the only member of our party who has not spontaneously lost consciousness during our stay on this planet. My condition has also not negatively impacted our reconnaissance mission."

"Well, except for the part where you sneezed and almost fell to your death in that crevasse."

"You what? Why don't I know about this?"

"You were sorta unconscious, Bones."

"Anyway, once we get back to the ship, you're gonna spend a week in bed, Spock."

"Doctor, that seems hardly – huh!- hardly necessary. Hh’ghISSCHH’uh!"

Spock shivered and Jim and Bones readjusted the blankets that had just fallen down from his lean shoulders.

"Bless you, Spock. And come on, Bones, a week? You know Spock, he will be better in a day or two. And I need him on the bridge!"

"Your codependence is really heartwarming, but I'm not gonna let the hobgoblin back on duty until he's been fever-free for at least twelve hours. If he's not contagious, which I really hope because otherwise, we'll probably all spend the next week in bed. And if we make it back to the ship in the first place."

"I calculate the chances of that event at less than -"

"Shut up, Spock. And drink some more water, your voice sounds terrible. Besides, you're scaring Thompson."

Ensign Thompson, who had watched their argument from the entrance of the tent, had caught Bones' eyes with a shiver of his own. The young man came from Ecuador and wasn't used to the cold. Now that he was not busy and the adrenalin slowly drained away, he could feel it with every fiber of his being. 

"Ensign, if you are cold, may I offer you a blanket?"

"Spock, you're sick and shivering yourself. You need those blankets! So unless you and Thompson wanna share body heat –"

"Actually, Bones, that's not such a bad idea. Come on, Thompson, you can sit next to Spock, and then we can all share the blankets and our body heat."

As both Thompson and Spock were too cold to argue against this proposition and Bones had to grudgingly adhere to the medical sense of the idea, the four men were soon sitting tightly pressed together on the second bed. Kirk was sitting on the far edge, a watchful eye out on the sky, watching as the power cell gave out and wondering when the shuttle to their rescue would arrive.

Everyone was too exhausted to talk much, and soon a meditative silence lay above the group, only interrupted by Commander Spock's frequent sniffles and sneezes.

[Kathy]

Part XII

 

Kirk assumed that they had sat like that for almost an hour when he got restless. He wanted to ask Spock how long it had really been and when the shuttlecraft to their rescue was likely to arrive, but his First Officer had fallen asleep at some point and was now resting his head against Bones' shoulder, snoring thickly.

"Hey, Bones, I'm gonna go and look out for the shuttle."

Bones looked at the chronometer on the portable sickbay computer.

"Fine. If our green-blooded computer's estimate is right – and I'd bet it is, despite his fever-addled brain – the shuttle should arrive no later than fifteen minutes from now."
"I hope you're right, Bones. How is Hardy doing?"

"Worse than an hour ago, but still mostly stable. I think he's gonna make it back to the ship without too much of a problem. Will have to put him on life support then, though. His lungs are in pretty bad shape."

"And Spock? We haven't woken him up, he must be sleeping really heavily."

The Vulcan was occasionally stirring in his sleep, snuffling and coughing a bit, but showed no signs of waking up.

"Well, he's sick as a sehlat and hasn't slept in four days. His ears are stuffed up, so his damn Vulcan hearing is probably a bit impaired. And the fever is taking a pretty big toll on his metabolism in this climate – the human part of his immune system pumps his body full of pyrogens, desperate to warm up, and the dominant Vulcan part of his physiology wants to cool him down. He's literally radiating heat, burning a hell of a lot of energy to sustain the fever. I should probably give him a hypo before boarding the ship. In the meantime, he is making for a nice hot water bottle, eh Thompson?"

"Yes, doctor. In fact, I've rather warmed up. Captain, might I go with you to look for the shuttle?"

"Sure, Ensign."

The two of them left the tent and strolled forwards to their improvised signaling tower. There were still a few errand jellyfish floating around, absorbing water from the pipe which was now starting to freeze over.

"And, Thompson, how have you been enjoying your first mission so far?"

"Well, Captain, it's been… an experience, to say it mildly. I hadn't thought that I would work so closely with senior officers in my first few days, that's for sure. To be honest, I was a little bit intimidated at first. You all have a bit of a reputation, sir."

"Yeah, I know. It's a good reputation though, right?"

The Captain smiled at him, trying to suffuse the awkwardness of the situation.

"Um, generally yes? I mean, people talk about all the amazing things you're doing – you have a reputation for taking insane risks and winning, Captain, and a bit of a reputation with women, of course. You're the youngest Captain in the Fleet and some people say you were just lucky and that you are pretty irresponsible but also pretty laid back, which is cool, I guess.
Doctor McCoy is kinda feared a little amongst new recruits, he comes off as a bit grumpy and I guess nobody likes surprise hyposprays in his neck. But everybody is impressed by his half-dozen or so improvised cures for new diseases.
And everybody is really intimidated by Commander Spock – with him being Vulcan and somehow serving two posts at once. His reputation as a scientist is pretty incredible, of course. I've heard ensigns from the science division gush about several of his papers on astrophysics, exobiology, and of course computational theory. And some random cultural studies. And, I mean, he's basically invented time travel with his slingshot formula."

"You're in the engineering division, aren't you, ensign?"

"Yes, sir. I'm a general tech assigned to nacelle maintenance."

"That sounds pretty cool. Anyway, after spending some time with us, how do you think our reputations hold up?"

"Um, you are pretty cool, actually, but also responsible and clever and really concerned for your crew. I wouldn't say that you are reckless, exactly, but there are some risks that you take those other captains would not. And you are laid back, which is probably why I'm telling you this. But also a really good leader – you coordinate people well, see what their talents are. Not all COs do. So that's pretty awesome.
Commander Spock is also not as intimidating as I thought – I mean, he is obviously Vulcan and a complete genius, what with setting up the phasers and doing the wiring even though he's not an engineer and doing all those calculations in his head – but I also think he cares a lot about the crew and the mission. And you can't really be scared of him after you've seen him sleep like that, all sick and exhausted. He's more human than he lets on.
Doctor McCoy is actually nicer than I thought – he was not exactly gentle when I was injured, but he did a good job of patching me up again and his bedside manner was fine. I think he's just really worried about people all the time and honestly, seeing how you and the Commander disregard your own health in favor of the mission and the crew, he probably has a point. I guess in that way you both are kinda stressing him out a lot."

"Yeah, I guess we are. Doctor McCoy does scold us all the time, though. Well, Spock sometimes even more than me. I'm pretty sure they just like arguing. Gives them emotional security – Bones can vent his frustration and has an outlet for his neuroticism, Spock gets some reassurance that he is being Vulcan enough and can let that rebellious side of his out. Deep down they really respect each other, of course. - But don't tell them I said that, they'd kill me."

"I won't tell, Captain – Look! I think there's a shuttle in the sky!"

"Yeah, I see it. Great! Ensign, you stay here and make sure they prepare some space for a portable biobed and I'll tell the others to get ready for transport."

Ensign Thompson remained at his spot as Kirk jogged back to the tent.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Bones! The shuttle's here – we have to get Hardy ready for transport!"

Bones got up immediately to tend to Liteunant Hardy and the combination of his movement and the Captain's shouting finally roused Spock from his slumber. He jerked awake suddenly and Kirk steadied him as he rapidly blinked his eyes a few times against the light in the tent, his nostrils quivering and his breath beginning to hitch.

"Hi… HiiIihtshu'uh! HiIshhh! Iiishh! HiIsh! Hi… Iishhu'Uh! Hiih… HhnNgxtshh!"

Ending the rather impressive fit with a barely contained half-stifle for the moment, Spock looked up at his friend with a pitiful sniffle and watering eyes. His nose was running profusely and Jim grabbed a piece of gauze from the staple McCoy had laid out as makeshift tissues for the sneezy Vulcan.

"Bless you, Spock. Here, get yourself cleaned up. There – That is better. Our shuttle is here, we're going back to the Enterprise. Now, how are you feeling? Do you need help getting to the shuttle?"

Spock blew his nose again before he answered, trying to clear at least a bit of congestion from his voice. He suppressed a shiver as well as a vague mix of gratitude and affection, which he felt at his friend's gentle words, before straightening himself.

"Captain, assistance will not be necessary. I cannot see how what Doctor McCoy has diagnosed as a minor head cold should impair my ability to walk a few hundred meters."

"It's a severe cold, you green-blooded hobgoblin. You've got a pretty nasty fever and you must be completely exhausted to fall asleep on my shoulder, of all people."

"I apologize if I inconvenienced you, Doctor. May I assist you in transporting Lt. Hardy to the shuttle?"

Spock finished the statement with a drawn-out sniffle.

"Jim can help me with Hardy and you can take the monitoring equipment, but don't you dare pass out under the weight, stubborn Vulcan."

"I… HihgGIiihSHuUh!"

"Bless you. Now come on, Jim, get your hands on the other side of the biobed, we've got to get Hardy on life support as quickly as possible."

"Aye-aye, Bones!"

Together, Bones and Kirk carried Hardy's makeshift biobed to the shuttlecraft. Spock would have reminded them that as a Vulcan, he was significantly stronger than either of them, even when he was affected by a respiratory infection, but he did feel mildly disoriented and it would be most unfortunate to stumble while carrying such fragile cargo as a severely ill human, so he grudgingly picked up the monitoring equipment and still had the presence of mind to put Hardy's sample container into his trouser pocket before he followed his friends.

[Kathy]

Part XIII

The shuttle had landed on a stable rock just 150 meters away from the tents, and Thompson had remained outside and met them halfway, lending a hand in carrying Hardy. He and Ensign Chekov, who had manned the shuttle together with Lieutenant Sulu, had already prepared a space in the shuttle to safely deposit the biobed.

 

"Good, Thompson, put him down right here. Gently!"

 

"There you go, Bones. Now do you see a harness somewhere, Spock?"

 

"Affirmative, Captain… HhNGxsSSHt!"

 

Spock stifled a sneeze against his wrist while handing a safety harness to the Captain.

 

"Thanks, and bless you. Everything secure on your side, Bones?"

 

"Yes, Jim. Spock, could you give me the monitor? Thank you."

 

"Are you ready for take-off, Captain?"

 

"Yes, Sulu, everything's fine here. All crew-members safely in their seats or beds. Bones, how are Hardy's vital signs?"

 

"Weak, but he should make it through the flight."

 

"Good. Bring us out of here, Mr. Sulu."

 

The shuttlecraft lifted off the ground and quickly made it up into the atmosphere.

 

"Leaving atmosphere, Keptin. The flight back to the Enterprise should take about eight minutes, sir."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Chekov."

 

"huH’MHFFuh!"

 

"Bless you, Meester Spock. Are you sick?"

 

"A minor affliction, Mr. Chekov. Though it would be prudent to inform the Enterprise that standard quarantine procedures following protocol 14.03 are necessary, as both Lt. Hardy and myself are displaying symptoms of potentially contagious disease."

 

"I'm hailing the ship now, Commander."

 

"Lt. Uhura here. Do you have the missing crew members onboard?"

 

"Yes, Lieutenant, we're all on board. But Spock and Hardy are sick, so the Commander requested quarantine following protocol… um, I couldn't quite hear the number, Spock."

 

"Protocol 14.03, Lieu… Lieutenant. Hiih'GNTtsch!"

 

"Bless you, Spock. Protocol 14.03? Sorry, but you are a bit hard to understand."

 

"Affirmative. Thank you, Nyota."

 

"Uhura, could you tell Dr. M'Benga to prepare a bed with fully operational life-support system?"

 

"Yes, Doctor McCoy. I'm patching the request through now. The bed should be prepared for human standards, I assume? It sounds like Spock is…"

 

"Your Vulcan's got a hell of a cold, but he'll live. Probably caught it on that Romulan ship last week, or else on the starbase on Delta V. Hardy has picked up a pretty nasty alien parasite on that planet, though. The incubation period was quite short, so it's not very likely that someone else got infected, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

 

"Thank you, Doctor. Enterprise out."

 

"Keptin, preparing to enter shuttlebay. Permission to dock was received. Quarantine procedures in progress."

 

"Good, Chekov. Mr. Sulu, prepare for landing."

 

"Aye, Captain."

[Kathy]

Part XIV

 

Following the quarantine protocol, they were met by three crewmembers in biohazard-suits in the shuttlebay. They had prepared a shielded biobed to transport Hardy to sickbay as well as biohazard-suits for the other crewmembers. They walked the short distance to sickbay in relative silence.

 

"Hello, welcome on board. Nurse Sahran, seal the door. Okay, you can now take off your suits, we're in a contained space. Leonard, what can you tell me about our patients?"

 

Dr. M'Benga greeted them as they entered the sealed-off portion of the sickbay. He was accompanied by two nurses, all in full protective gear.

 

"Hardy's in critical condition, his blood oxygen levels are at 79%, he has extensive lung damage and the disease is starting to affect his heart, liver and kidneys."

 

M'Benga and the human nurse were already placing Hardy on a prepared biobed, and nurse Sahran, a female Andorian, was transferring the data of the portable biomonitor to the main sickbay computer.

 

"Hmm, seems you got him here in time. But we must find out what's infecting him. Nurse Li, please start a full-body scan and then take a sample from the Broncioles. How did his symptoms start?"

 

"He got into contact with the infectious agent in some cave on the planet while collecting rock samples and displayed acute respiratory distress shortly afterwards before loosing consciousness. Spock, can you fill in the details?"

 

"Cer… Certainly, Doctor. Hu...HIIiSHhu'Uh! Egcuse be. Snf! Lt. Hardy and I went on an expedition to some caves on the foreign planet to collect phosphorus as a means to power our phasers. In the cave Hardy also took a sample of an unknown powdery substance. After we had finished collecting minerals, Hardy showed signs of shortness of breath and lightheadedness, though he answered my inquiry after his health with the reply that he was simply "out of shape". Huh!"

 

Spock pressed a finger to his nose, forcefully rubbing another tickle away for the moment.

 

"He collapsed with a cough, clutching his chest, mere 57 seconds later and lost consciousness completely about 43 seconds after that. Doctor McCoy examined him and administered a tri-Ox compound a little more than 117 minutes – Hii! HIISHUuhHUh'Uhgh! - binutes lader."

 

Spock had buried the lower half of his face behind steepled hands and sniffed profusely, unwilling to take away his hands and expose the mess on his face. Nurse Sahran quickly offered him a box of tissues.

 

"Blessings. Here, Commander. Are you feeling alright? You sound terrible."

 

"Thangk you, ndurse. I amb, to use a humban idiomb, feelingk a bit under the weadther."

 

Spock's words were barely comprehensible behind a thick wall of congestion and he turned away from the group and took several tissues from the box to properly blow his nose. His appendage had a leaf-green tint by now and was starting to chap. Despite his efforts to prevent it, Spock's noseblow ended in a miserable honk. Spock blushed, though it was barely noticeable given his flushed cheeks. At least he was a bit clearer now.

 

"Excuse me."

 

"Of course, Commander. Is your own illness related to the infection Lt. Hardy is experiencing?"

 

"He says his symptoms were present before the expedition to the cave, and I'm pretty sure I heard him sneeze once or twice before they went up the glacier, so it's unlikely that Spock's infected by what Hardy has. He could be a carrier, of course, but Spock's symptoms seem more like a really bad head cold or maybe a type of flu than anything else. I checked his lungs down on the planet, and their inflamation is pretty minimal, especially compared to his sinuses. Given the sudden onset of Hardy's symptoms and the fact that no one else of us human crewmembers seems to be displaying them, I doubt that Hardy got his illness anywhere else but that cave. Still, it would be best if you could look the Commander over and take samples from him as well. Even though it appears to be just some cold or flu virus, I'd like to be sure that it's not something serious. And then we can take samples from everyone else to determine who needs to stay in quarantine."

 

"Yes, Dr. McCoy. If you would sit down on the examination table over there, Commander."

 

Spock followed M'Benga, half dressed in the biohazard suit and used tissues still in hand. Nurse Sahran placed the tissue box on the examination table and brought over a biohazard bin for Spock to dispose the used ones.

 

Spock took off his suit and even his uniform shirt, sitting down on the examination table in just his boots, trousers and black undershirt. Even though it was significantly warmer than the ice planet, sickbay suddenly seemed quite cold to him and a shiver ran down his spine.

 

"HuH’MHFF-MHFFuh! Hh’huRHMHFF!"

 

"Bless you, Commander. Mmh, seems like that ice planet has taken quite a toll on you – your metabolic rate is slowing down now, though, which is a good sign, but your fever's going up. I know you don't react very well to them, but I think it's better to give you a hypospray in order to control the reaction after the drastic change of temperatures, if Dr. McCoy has not already done so."

 

"Doctor McCoy administered an anti-pyretic to me 12.7 minutes ago in the shuttle."

 

"Good. Already experiencing the side effects?"

 

"The nausea is bearable."

 

"That's nice to hear. I'm still working on perfecting a formula that suits your hybrid physiology, at least for the most basic hyposprays."

 

"Your effort is most certainly appreciated. HhHnNGTch!"

 

"Bless you again. And stop holding your sneezes in, it's neither healthy nor necessary. But it's unusual for you to display symptoms so overtly at all. Though I doubt you'd have boarded a shuttle if you were aware you were afflicted with a viral disease, you care too much about protocol and the health of your crew for that. Does this illness affect you mental control in some way?"

 

"Negative, Doctor. But suppression of symptoms requires an additional amount of energy, which I wished to conserve given our situation on the planet. It seemed more prudent to let the illness run its natural course than to conceal it until such a task would become impossible. Though the illness does seem to cause rather potent nasal irritation and I did repress my cough reflex as long as my ribs were fractured."

 

"How long and how many?"

 

"Four ribs, 42 hours… Heh-HiiSHHhuuUHh!"

 

"Gesundheit. Well, McCoy seems to have healed your ribs alright, but your temperature is at 35.1°C and you are displaying early signs of a sinus infection. Your inner ears and throat show moderate inflammation as well, inflammation and congestion in your lungs are comparatively mild. I'm gonna take samples of your mucus and blood, to analyze the type of pathogen we're dealing with."

 

M'Benga took the blood sample with routined motions and asked Spock to cough and blow his nose before he swabbed the Vulcan's nose and throat. After he had collected his samples, the specialist on Vulcan physiology gestured to an unoccupied biobed.

 

"You should get some rest, Commander. It's likely that this is just an ordinary respiratory virus, which means it's unlikely that there is much we can do for you."

 

"HiIISHUU'Uh…"

 

Spock sneezed wearily into a tissue before walking over to the biobed with uncharacteristically uncertain steps.

 

"You hear that Spock? Just some good, old-fashioned rest. Doctor's orders."

 

"My hearing is not that significantly impaired, Doctor McCoy."

 

"Good. Now, do we have all the samples, M'Benga? I'd like to send them over to the lab for biochemistry and microbiology."

 

"Doctor, you should include the sample Hardy collected in the cave in the analysis."

 

"Dammit, Spock! You're telling me now? I think we left all the non-essential equipment on the planet, including the sample containers."

 

"Negative, Doctor. I pocketed the particular sample Hardy collected before our departure."

 

"And you didn't tell me before? Well, must attribute that to your fever-addled mind. Now, come on, hand over the sample and then you can sleep a little, Spock."

 

McCoy had spoken with uncharacteristic gentleness. Spock procured the sealed sample container from his pocket and handed it to nurse Sahran before turning to his side to cough a little. He even allowed himself a small sigh before he lied down on his bed and fell into an exhausted, feverish sleep.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Please consider leaving a reply if you like this story. It feels like I am writing into a void...

[Wow Really?]

I am personally loving this.. and I don’t even like Star Trek.  I do hope you will continue. 

[Kathy]

Part XV

"HiisSHHUuh! Hii-NgGSch!"

Spock awoke only 49 minutes later as a computerized voice announced that the quarantine on this part of sickbay had been lifted. Spock sneezed openly at the bright lights that blinded him as he carefully opened his eyes. He sat up and grabbed a tissue from the box next to his bed to relieve the congestion that had built up in his sinuses while he had slept.

"Bless you, Spock. Feeling a bit better?"

Spock contemplated his Captain's question for a few moments, taking time to assess his physical state. While the sinus headache that had begun to plague him on the shuttle ride – no doubt an unpleasant side-effect of the shift of atmospheric pressure – had receded somewhat and his exhaustion had likewise abated by what he estimated to be 26%, he still felt distinctly congested, feverish and all-around ill. Realizing that he had slept with his mouth open to breathe around the obstruction in his nose, he assessed that the soreness in his throat had even increased somewhat as a result of the dry, sterile air in the sickbay. Noticing that his Captain expected an answer to his query, Spock blinked slowly and replied.

"Some aspects of my condition have indeed improved, Captain. The discomfort in my throat, however, has increased."

"Oh, that's too bad. Nurse Chapel, can you get Mr. Spock some tea for his throat and maybe some lozenges or something? And a hot chocolate for myself."

"Of course, Captain."

"Huh! HngSshHUUuh!"

"I take it the sneeziness is not one of the improved aspects?"

"No, Captain. My… nasal cavities still seem exceedingly irritated. Can I take it that the lifted quarantine means neither Hardy nor I am contagious?"

"Yes. The parasite they found in Hardy's lungs is apparently not viable outside of certain conditions and can't spread from person to person. Your sample was pretty clear, by the way. They found some dead parasites in your lungs, but no live ones. And Bones was right, you picked up that cold during your undercover mission on that Romulan ship last week. Well, I guess the secret of cloaking technology does have its price, after all. The virus is only compatible with Vulcans, Romulans, and possibly Rigellians, which is like three crewmembers besides you, and it's pretty harmless so Bones did not put you into quarantine."

"I will attempt to avoid contact with Lt. Ratchett and Ensigns Maffet and Pritt regardless. Given that they work in Engineering, the cargo bay, and the phaser banks respectively, this will not prove too difficult."

"Given that you're not currently on duty, this won't provide any difficulty at all."

"Hey, Bones! How's Hardy?"

"Stable. We've got a lot of preliminary data on the parasite but we're currently nowhere near any viable treatment option. Meanwhile, the illness progresses to obstruct his organ tissue, now focussing mainly on his kidneys and liver."

"HiISHhuUh!"

The Vulcan snuffled into the tissue he had previously snatched from the box next to his bed, wiping his chafed appendage but refusing to blow for the moment.

"Bless you, Spock. Anyway, besides Spock here none of us have even been infected by this thing. It seems to be a single-cell organism that feeds not only on the oxygen in the host's blood but also on the urea in the bloodstream, which it converts to struvite. That's the substance Hardy has collected in the cave -  a mix of urea and struvite in mineral form, contaminated with the parasite. And this is what obstructs the host's organ tissue, combined with the parasite itself. It uses the struvite minerals to built the shell for its eggs. Apparently, it normally lives in the walls of the cave."

"Fascinating, doctor. Our tricorder scans indicated that the walls of the cave had temperatures around 30°C, likely caused by geothermal processes directly beneath the rock's surface. Some of the rocks in the cave's structure had distinctly volcanic qualities. Given – HngGTsch! - it's porosity and the high humidity of the planet's atmosphere, the conditions in the cave – the presence of oxygen, water, and urea as well as the general temperature – are sufficiently similar to the human body for humans to become hosts to the parasite once its eggs are inhaled."

The Vulcan finished his analysis with a decidedly liquid sniffle and finally gave in to the need to blow his nose. Kirk and McCoy patiently waited for him to finish before the doctor spoke again.

"Well, the damn thing has an incredibly short reproductive cycle. A single parasite lives only about twenty minutes, apparently, and the eggs hatch in eleven to twelve. That's why the incubation period is so short."

"Doctor, there is something I do not understand – why have I not been infected with the parasite?"

"You said it was not adapted to Vulcan physiology when you came back from that bloody cave."

"It is a reasonable hypothesis. While my blood is green and based on copper instead of iron, it does contain similar levels of urea as human blood. The difference in body temperature is likewise negligible. If anything, my body temperature is or rather was closer to conditions in the cave. The dead parasites in my phlegm show that I have been contaminated in the same manner as Hardy. So why am I not similarly affected?"

"Well, the people in the biochemical lab have tried to use your blood as a medium for the parasite and it seems to thrive in there just as well as in human blood, so that can't be it. Maybe something in your damn hybrid immune system?"

"Whatever it was, it must have acted before the parasite reached the bloodstream, as otherwise, an in-vitro immune response should be observable."

"Well, it wasn't, Spock!"

"Most… most puzzling. Heh… He-IiiSSshHU'uh! IiiSHhuuh! HngGTCht!"

"Dammit Spock, you're sick! You should be resting, not giving yourself a headache trying to do my job!"

"Yes, doctor. I am, in fact, sick…"

"What, so you're agreeing with me? Jim, he must be worse off than I thought. You feeling worse, Spock?"

"No, doctor. But I might have had an epiphany. Could it be that the Romulan rhinovirus that is currently replicating in quite high numbers all over my respiratory system also counteracts some vital mechanism that the parasite needs to survive?"

"You mean… your cold virus could be the antidote to the parasite infecting Hardy?"

"It is a possibility. Given that the parasite is both completely alien and replicates very quickly, it is more likely than a spontaneous immune response."

"Mr. Spock, I've got you a cup of Vulcan spiced tea with lemon and honey. And a cup of hot chocolate for the Captain."

"Thank you, nurse Chapel."

"Jim! Miss Chapel is a nurse, not a waitress!"

"Come on, Bones, she was getting tea for Spock anyway."

The Captain smirked as he took a sip from his hot chocolate. Spock inhaled the steam of his tea, which was doing a good job of clearing out his sinuses.

"Huh! HuURR'FSHUUHh!"

"Bless you, Mr. Spock."

"Thank you, Miss Chapel. Would you mind asking the lab to test whether the parasite reacts negatively to contact with the virus they have isolated from me?"

"Of course not, Mr. Spock."

Nurse Chapel quickly made her way to the comm to give a call to the biochem lab. Spock, meanwhile, drank a few sips of his herbal tea. While he could not taste much of the beverage, it did have a most welcome effect on his aching throat.

"Dammit, Spock. You're sick in bed and you're still meddling in my affairs."

"As Chief Science Officer, the study of alien microorganisms…"

"Firstly, you're off duty until I say otherwise. Secondly…"

"Bones, come on. I mean, if he's right you can save Hardy, can't you?"

"Yes, Jim. Probably."

"Well, then you have to hope that Spock's right. And I mean, look at him. All green-nosed and sniffly and -"

"HuhTSCHhhuh!"

"- sneezy. Do you really have to fight? With your patient, Bones?"

"I suppose not. Poor Spock needs his rest, after all. Which is why you and I are going to let him alone now. Come on, I've got to look over the paperwork of the last few days while I wait for the lab results and you should make a short inspection of the bridge and then go to bed as well, Jim."

"Doctor McCoy, may I -"

"No. You may not. Unless you wanted to ask for something to eat, in which case, yes, you should eat something. Dammit, you haven't eaten in two days, right?"

"Affirmative, doctor, but-"

"No but. Christine, get Mr. Spock some Plomeek soup. And once you've done that, you can send a comm message to Lt. Uhura that once her shift is over she can take her boyfriend to bed in his own quarters. If she's willing to spend the entire night with a sick Vulcan, that is. But no strenuous activities. And you're not going to give Spock his PADD. Or anything else even remotely work-related. You might show him some good, old-fashioned holovids, though."

"Doctor McCoy, I doubt that this is-"

"No, Spock. You're sick and I decide what is necessary. So don't argue with me while you're in my sickbay."

"Yeah, Spock. Can't argue with Bones while you're in sickbay."

"Not that you're any better, Jim."

"Well, I certainly don't try to sneak in paperwork. Anyway, what holovid do you wanna watch while you wait for your soup, Spock?"

"I am partial to… Huh!… to old earth wildlife documentaries, Captain."

"Of course you are, Spock."

Spock had resigned to his fate. The Vulcan was now laid back against the pillows of his biobed and his one hand scrubbed at his ticklish nose with a tissue. The other still held his cup of tea, which he quickly put down as he gave up the fight against his next sneeze.

"HiIsSHHUuh! HiiIShHUHh!"

"Bless you. Now, does 'Mission Blue' sound any good?"

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

17 hours ago, Wow Really? said:

I am personally loving this.. and I don’t even like Star Trek.  I do hope you will continue. 

Thank you

[Wow Really?]

51 minutes ago, Kathy said:

Thank you

[AngelEyes]

Loving this! You have a particular affinity for Bones' sarcastic banter. So glad you took this up! Looking forward to more!

[sfyrist]

This is great! It's wonderful that you've shared so much with us. People just don't comment, even when they love something.

I think your details are amazing and you have a great grasp on their voices. I would love if you were to continue.

[Kathy]

On 10/4/2021 at 12:03 PM, sfyrist said:

This is great! It's wonderful that you've shared so much with us. People just don't comment, even when they love something.

I think your details are amazing and you have a great grasp on their voices. I would love if you were to continue.

Oh, thank you so much for your kind words! It means a lot

On 10/4/2021 at 8:04 AM, AngelEyes said:

Loving this! You have a particular affinity for Bones' sarcastic banter. So glad you took this up! Looking forward to more!

Thank you! I really like Bones and Spock bickering, it's the funniest part of the series and the best bit about Beyond

On 10/4/2021 at 7:33 AM, Wow Really? said:

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part XVI

 

"Well, Spock, you were right."

The Vulcan looked up blearily from the holovid he was watching, snuffling into the tissue he had clasped in his hand before pausing the holovid and responding congestedly.

"Pardon, doctor, to what are you referring?"

He punctuated his question with a light but rather phlegmatic cough. McCoy stepped closer to his bed to check his vitals. He was slightly concerned that the damn green-blooded hobgoblin might develop bronchitis. And by god, he didn't want to have to deal with a sick Vulcan longer than strictly necessary. Spock's lung function was normal, though. Well, normal for Spock. The fever was still rising but pretty slowly, being currently at 37,1°C. He would not need to administer another antipyretic for now.

"You were right about the parasite, Spock. That rhinovirus of yours seems to have a protein-substructure in its hull that attaches itself to a surface protein that is vital for stabilizing the parasite during cytokinesis and acts as an adhesive between parasites during cluster formation in the tissue. Lt. Patel has successfully isolated it and nurse Li is currently preparing both an infusion and an inhalation for Hardy. Initial tests show that it's very effective in breaking up the mineral structures clotting in Hardy's tissue, at least in the lab."

"That is – HNGtschH! - favorable, doctor."

"Dr. McCoy, I've got the medication. Should I start with the administration?"

"Yes, nurse. Let's see if it works as well in the human body as in the lab test."

The nurse injected a full syringe worth of freshly replicated medication into Hardy's IV tube. She also attached a canister to his respirator, which suffused the oxygen that was being pumped into the Lieutenant's lung with millions of microscopic protein particles.

"No immediate adverse effects, doctor. Going by the lab results, a significant improvement in lung and kidney function should take place within the next half hour."

"Thank you, Li."

"You're welcome. Alphashift ended ten minutes ago, so nurse Denver is going to take over for me if you need anything else."

"Have a nice evening, nurse."

"You too, doctor McCoy. Commander."

On her way out of the sick bay, nurse Li almost collided with Lt. Uhura.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy. Hey, Spock. How are you?"

The Lieutenant had immediately sat down on Spock's bed, next to the sick Vulcan, and now gently cupped his face before pressing a soft kiss onto his over-warm forehead. Spock instinctively leaned into her tender touch.

"I am adequate, Nyota."

Spock's voice sounded even worse than over the comm a few hours ago, Nyota observed. Its hoarse and congested quality was only amplified by the softness with which he addressed her.

"Adequate, hmm? A new synonym for ill, feverish or miserable, perhaps?"

Spock looked up blearily, quirking an eyebrow at that remark. His nose twitched, but he did not want to move away from her touch.

"Adequate has variable def… defi… Ihh! Hi'IshHuuh! HiIshHhU'uh!"

Spock snuffled pathetically in the aftermath of the sneezes he haphazardly directed into his sleeve. His congestion seemed to steadily increase and he was left unable to breathe through a completely stuffed up nose, his lips permanently parted. Nyota pressed a quick kiss onto them, anyway.

"Kudau tu, ashayam."

"Lesek, k'diwa."

 Spock closed his eyes and rested his head on his beloved's shoulder.

"McCoy didn't exaggerate when he said you had a 'hell of a cold', did he?"

"His metaphor was colorful, but unfortunately accurate."

"'Course it was. My metaphors are always accurate, hobgoblin."

McCoy had busied himself checking over Hardy's vitals, giving Spock and Uhura a moment of privacy. The Lieutenant's vitals were actually improving rather rapidly after the first treatment was administered.

"Has the Lieutenants condition changed, Doctor?"

"Yes. And kinda thanks to you, Spock. His blood O2 is normalizing rapidly, kidney function as well. I think we can take him off of life support within an hour or so. If this trend continues he's going to be back on duty before you are."

"It is indeed puzzling that you can find a cure for an unknown alien parasite within 48 hours and are yet still unable to find an effective treatment for acute nasopharyngitis."

"Well, I doubt the common cold will be cured on a starship. Well, maybe accidentally. Anyway, with that fever of yours you're usually getting over colds a good deal quicker than the average Vulcan, aren't you? So you're probably only going to be sick for about one more week instead of two, even though this is a foreign virus."

"HuHMPFUh!"

"Bless you. Now, do you want to spend the night in sickbay or can I trust you to rest up in your own bed? Uhura, you better look after him, make sure he doesn't try something sneaky. That pointy-eared bastard won't get better if he keeps overworking himself."

"I would like to spend the night in my quarters, thank you. And I am not generally overworking myself, doctor. My stamina is usually sufficient for me to fulfill my duties, this current illness is merely a result of unfortunate circumstances and the general inevitability of such infections."

"We all catch a cold from time to time, huh? But we don't all work two jobs, do some of Jim's paperwork and then write additional research papers when it's not busy enough on the bridge."

"Three jobs, actually, doctor. Spock has taken on most of the duties of Chief Records Officer since Finney was suspended five weeks ago, remember?"

Nyota rolled her eyes as she absentmindedly brushed some of Spock's hair, which had actually gotten mussed in his sleep, back into shape with her delicate hands.

"Yeah, right. Well, I'll definitely have to patch up Hardy before I can clear you for duty again, Spock. With him being the new Records Officer and all. Can't have you overworking yourself and relapsing. Now, off to your own bed, you go. Or do you want some medicine first?"

"A de – HngGTCHh! - decongestant would be most welcome, doctor. Preferably one that won't cause any unpleasant side-effects."

"Really stuffed up, aren't ya, Spock? Well, I think I have some capsules that you can dissolve in warm water – might have a real shower and breath that in with the steam. And something to rub on your chest and back. I'm sure Uhura can manage that. Here. None of this stuff should make you nauseous. But if your temperature goes up, give me a call. In fact, I might check up on you before I go to bed myself. Just to make sure."

"Doctor McCoy, you are turning into quite the mother-hen! And here I was thinking it would be my job to dote on our miserable Vulcan."

"Oh, shut up, Uhura. I'm just doing my damn job. Anyway, I already told Spock: No strenuous activities. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly. Goodnight, Leonard. Make sure that you get some rest, too."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

"Night, Nyota. Night, Spock."

And with that, the sick Vulcan was lead out of the sick bay by his doting girlfriend. McCoy would never admit it, but they were actually really cute together. Well, he would have a gin with Scotty and then go to bed. Hardy was on the way to recovery and Spock would probably be arguing for his right to go back on duty by tomorrow evening. The CMO of the Enterprise sighed as he left the sick bay with a last glance towards the ill Lieutenant who was starting to breathe deeply and evenly again as nurse Denver checked his vitals again. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

So... the story is coming to a close. I think I might add some fluffy caretaking chapters, if you're interested? 

[Wow Really?]

Yes please! My favorite part of hurt/comfort stories, is the comfort.  

[sfyrist]

Some fluff at the end would be wonderful!

[Kathy]

@Wow Really? Thank you for your kind comments! Here come some fluffy chapters  Comfort all the way!

@sfyrist Thank you! btw, do you recently wrote Star Trek Sicktember fics on AO3? I think I saw your username on some wonderful fics there

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Part XVII

 

Spock was mildly surprised when, on the way to his quarters, several crewmembers expressed their concern for his health and wished him well. He did not wish to display his symptoms before the entire ship, but he could not quite keep a potent tickle in his nose at bay when he and Nyota entered a turbo-lift that was already occupied by a science ensign whom Spock recalled was amongst the new recruits.

"HinNGTch!"

"Bless you, Commander."

"Thank you, Ensign Han."

The ensign was obviously surprised that Spock knew her name. She glanced nervously between the Commander and Lt. Uhura. The turbo-lift suddenly stopped and displayed an error code as the lights went red.

"Ugh, great. What is it this time? Sudden energy drain from the antimatter chamber? Breakdown of the antigrav dampeners?"

"Error Code 164 implies that there is indeed a problem with the antigravitational dampeners. Such issues have previously taken between 3.5 and 18.7 minutes for engineering staff to fix. Huh! IitTShuUh!"

"Bless you, Spock. Any ideas how to pass the time?"

Nyota would have had plenty of ideas were they alone, but with ensign Han eying them curiously, it was probably not the right moment for snuggling.

"We could debate the ethical implications of the Prime Directive. Or you could recite Gilbert and Sullivan, Lieutenant."

Spock raised an eyebrow and punctuated his remark with a soft sniff and a small quirk on his lips.

Uhura laughed and the ensign gave an awkward smile, unsure of how to react to the situation.

"Well, I'm not gonna do that but if you want to, feel free, Commander. Though I doubt that singing will do your voice any favors."

"Perhaps not." Spock turned his head and coughed into his arm to clear his throat, the coughing fit turning out a bit more heavy than he anticipated.

"Um… are you alright, Commander? D'you wanna sit down or something? The Captain mentioned that you were pretty sick..."

Spock cleared his throat and sat down on the turbo-lift floor as he contemplated the last statement. Uhura and Ensign Han sat down as well.

"Nyota, the Captain announced my illness to the crew?"

"… Yes. But McCoy put him up to it. I think he wanted to make sure that you won't get bothered with reports and questions about experiments while you are supposed to rest. He also basically forbid anyone to let you access any lab or computer console in the next two days."

Spock seemed decidedly displeased by this information. Before he could reply, however, his nose demanded his urgent attention.

"HiigGSHuh!"

"Commander, do you, um, need a handkerchief?"

"Indeed. Thank you, Ensign."

Spock wiped his nose and allowed himself a sigh. If the whole ship was aware of his illness anyway he might as well indulge it. A shiver ran down his spine and Nyota skittered a little closer to him, placing a warm hand on his back.

"Kirk was probably right, though. You should rest for a few days. You've earned it. And it is only logical to rest when one is ill. I doubt the crew will think any less of you for it. Right, Ensign?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. I mean, everyone gets sick, right? Even Vulcans, sir. God knows I'd need some rest after going on an undercover mission in the Romulan Neutral Zone before getting stranded on an ice planet while being sick with a bad cold!"

"Am I right to assume that the Captain said rather more than necessary about myself in his evening address to the crew?"

"Um, according to the Captain, Dr. McCoy said that. He also said that you could look after everything on the Enterprise and possibly the entire Quadrant except for yourself, which is why it would be the duty of the crew to make sure that you don't work yourself to death, Commander. And then the Captain said that he wouldn't know what to do without you. Although, um, he said we shouldn't tell you that he said that. Can you not tell him that I told you, please?"

"Don't worry, we won't tell, Ensign. But apparently, Dr. McCoy cares more about you than he lets on, Spock."

Nyota smiled and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Spock wiggled his nose and furrowed his brows in response to what he had heard. He gave a deep sniff before he spoke.

"And yet I could do very well without the good doctor's meddling. I merely fulfill my duty to the best of my ability and I am hardly working myself to death. My physical condition is usually quite ex… exce… HuUR'FFSHUh! - Ugh. Egscuse be."

"Bless you. Yes, your health is absolutely excellent. Not just right now."

"Precisely."

Spock was just about to give in and blow his runny nose as the turbo-lift came back online. He quickly got up from the floor and tried to straighten, though a sudden spell of dizziness arrested his movement. Nyota had to steady him as he leaned against the wall. It only took a few seconds before the lightheadedness began to fade and he straightened with a sniffle, however. The doors opened on the desired floor and its occupants stepped out of the turbo-lift.

"Goodnight, Ensign."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant. And get well soon, Commander."

"Thank you, Ensign. Goodnight."

They parted ways in the corridor, Uhura holding onto Spock's arm in a reassuring manner. The fever was taking quite a toll on him now, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he finally stepped into his own, pleasantly warm quarters. The sigh was quickly followed by a wet sneeze.

"Hh’huRHMHFF!"

"Ubarikiwe, mpenzi."

"Asante, Nyota."

Spock allowed himself a small smile as his girlfriend wrapped her arms around him, and he rested his heavy head on top of hers, returning the gesture. His quarters were dark and warm and Spock looked forward to a hot shower before he could finally cuddle up in bed with Nyota. Some might find these desires to be illogical, but several scientific studies had shown that snuggling did indeed have therapeutic value.

"Come now, Spock. Get out of that clingy uniform and into the shower."

He gave her a quick kiss before complying.

"Very well, ashayam." 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Spock had emerged from the shower and dried himself off somewhat, before sitting down on his bed and hastily grabbing a few tissues from a box Nyota held out for him.

"HiIshhh! Iiishh! HiIsh! Hi… Iishhu'Uh! Hiih… HhnNgxtshh! Hah'HIISHHUUHh!"

"Aww, bless you, Spock. That shower cleared you up though, didn't it?"

Spock was occupied with his nose, for now, blowing thickly into the wad of tissues, before disposing of them and repeating the process with fresh ones until his nose gave a sharp honk. He gave his irritated appendage a final wipe and coughed a bit for good measure before answering Nyota's query.

"Indeed. The doctor's medicine proved quite effective."

Nyota trailed her hands down his cheek with a smile before getting up and taking a towel to dry off his hair. Spock closed his eyes as she carefully massaged his head.

"HngGShuUHh! HiiShuUh! Ugh…"

"Bless you again. Are you usually this sneezy when you're sick?"

"While I do believe that this illness is particularly "sneezy", as you call it, I am generally prone to frequent sternutation when ill. I hope you don't find that displeasing?"

"Of course not, Spock. It's actually quite adorable." 

"That is an illogical sentiment, Nyota."

"Well, I am an illogical human, after all. So, do you want the menthol rub only on your chest or on your back as well?"

"Applying the substance to a larger surface area will allow it to diffuse quicker and would therefore prove more efficient in clearing my airways."

"Alright, professor. I can't argue with the principles of physics."

Nyota gave him a quick kiss on his damp hair before she started to massage the sticky rub onto his chest. Spock smiled at her, enjoying the tingling sensation of her warm hands against his skin. He could feel her love and affection bleed into him through her touch – just as she could sense the drowsy pleasure that was starting to mix with his feelings of exhaustion and physical discomfort. She moved on to his back, massaging the stiff, firm muscles there with the salve, and finally used her fingers to trace his name in Vulcan script. She could feel his amusement at this, too.

"There, all done. Now pull on your shirt and get under the covers, you're shivering and it's already thirty degrees in here."

Spock did what he was told and soon he and Nyota were covered by the surprisingly soft standard-issue blankets on his bed. Spock usually did not sleep more than his required 2 hours and 17 minutes per night, but now he found himself wishing he could sleep through this illness completely. His nose was still a little stuffy and his sinuses were faintly throbbing. The sensation of cold was beginning to leave his body, however, as Nyota embraced him from behind, before tucking the blankets tighter around him.

"Thank you, Nyota. Huh! HuIiShUUh!"

"Bless you, Spock. Are you warm enough? You're still shivering a bit."

"I am warmer than I have been in the last 49.8 hours, ashayam. It is likely that my fever will reach its set point within the next 20 minutes, at which point I will stop shivering."

"Mhh, at least you will be a bit more comfortable then."

"The third stage of fever is indeed more pleasant than the second. It does, however, have some… unpleasant side effects…"

"Fever dreams?"

"...Yes."

"That's okay. Just wake me up if you need anything, alright?"

"I would not wish to disrupt your rest period…"

Spock spoke quietly, sniffling into the blankets. He turned around to look at Nyota, who smiled at him affectionately. His green-rimmed, watering eyes looked sad as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Well, it's only 1900 hours. And I don't plan to leave this bed before 0600, except if you need something. So I doubt you are going to prevent me from getting my required amount of sleep."

"And you don't wish to spend your evening in a more pleasant way?"

"Spock, I want to spend my evening with you. And if that means cuddling you while you are all feverish and sniffly, that is what I am going to do."

Spock put his arms around her, and she replied by giving him a chaste kiss. He buried his head into the pillow, his over-warm cheeks slightly touching her shoulder.

"Thank you, Nyota."

"Sleep well, Spock."

She pressed another kiss on his hair.

"Goodnight, ashayam…"

Spock answered her sleepily before he covered a yawn with the blanket.

"Computer, lights out."

And almost as soon as the room had darkened, Spock fell asleep in his lover's arms. Nyota could hear him snoring softly, the menthol rub keeping his congestion at bay for now. She caressed the back of his head with her fingers, and he curled tighter towards her, snuggling close as he was reveling in her touch and warmth, rubbing his head on her shoulder. Sleepy Vulcans were a little like cats, Nyota mused.

With the warm body beside her, and her lover's touch transferring an echo of his sleepiness to her through the unconscious touch-telepathy he kept so controlled during the day, Nyota quickly felt tired as well.
It had been a long few days of work, fixing all the communications systems the ionization had damaged. But now she could rest, with Spock wrapped up next to her. She could feel his warm nose on her shoulder as he sniffled in his sleep, and soon she was asleep beside him as well.

 

[sfyrist]

@KathyI like this so much! I sort of want to float away on the warmth and the sense of peace Spock (deservedly) gets here. I'm so glad you published another chapter!

And also thank you, that was me doing Sicktember Prompts as greenroseunderglass(Sfyrist). It was my first time doing prompts, so I'm very glad to hear you like them! My actual fetish fics will go under just Sfyrist if I ever get organized.

[AngelEyes]

This is adorable. Snuggly Spock. 😍

[-Evelynn]

nice, and keep improving ^^

[Kathy]

Thank you all for the kind replies, they mean a lot

Now, I'm not sure if it strictly belongs here, but I have some fanart for this (I got a tablet for uni and I have been using it for about a week, so I'm not yet a pro when it comes to colouring, but I think it turned out okay)

https://drive.google.com/file/d/10aacesb6-0gOcApCiYTxtAi17CjIgrZY/view?usp=sharing

[Kathy]

Part XVIII

 

Nyota awoke a few hours later, faintly aware of the uncomfortable sensation of falling that one usually experiences right before falling asleep. She dazedly registered the tight hold of Spock's hands around her waist and the slight tremors that ragged through his over-warm body.

"Lights, 35%."

In the dim light, she could see the pained expression on her lover's face as he breathed erratically through his mouth, the congestion seemingly having returned. He radiated not only with fever but with emotions – fear, grief, guilt. Spock stirred in his sleep as his fingers buried themselves even further into her flesh.

"Spock, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Nyota cupped his cheek with her hand, stroking tenderly along the angular lines of his face. The feelings she picked up from him intensified at the close contact, and his nose wriggled as she brushed past it with her thumb.

"Come on, Spock. It's alright, it's not real…"

She placed a kiss on his forehead, which was warm but only slightly damp. Vulcans did not sweat, after all. At this, Spock stirred in his sleep and at last opened his eyes blearily, giving her an unfocused glance before he pitched into the blankets with a desperate sneeze.

"HiiIiTSHuUHh!"

When he looked up again, his fever-bright eyes were watering and he was still looking confused.

"Bless you, Spock. You had a fever-dream, so I woke you up."

This straightforward, simple explanation seemed to soothe him, as he let himself sink back into the covers again, giving a soft cough that was followed by a stuffy sniffle. Nyota handed him the tissue box and gently patted his shoulder as he cleared his nose.

"I am sorry for waking you, Nyota."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Spock. And anyway, it's only just past 2200 hours. Normally, I would not even be in my pajamas right now. Though after the past few days, I can certainly do with an early night. God, we all clogged some extra hours trying to fix the communications array. And I was worried about you, Spock."

He wordlessly leaned over to her, meeting her lips in a short but tender kiss, his stuffy nose stroking her cheek.

"I, too, have missed you, ashayam."

It was not unusual for him to be so straightforward with his affection in the privacy of their own quarters. Typically, those words would follow a near encounter with death or a strenuous mission, both of which occurred far more frequently than Nyota would have liked. Or when, in the dull downtime between such missions, Spock came to be in a particular, contemplative mood. Both of which reminded him to cherish the moment -  and her. Now, though, there was something so desperate and vulnerable in his raspy voice that Nyota was not much used to hearing.

"Really bad dream, huh?"

"...Yes."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"As it is essentially the same dream that has plagued me with decreasing frequency for the last 7.4 years, this would be unnecessarily repetitive."

Nyota nodded in understanding, intently watching his face as he silently stared up at the ceiling, his expressionless face only moving with a sniffle every few seconds. His eyes, however, were inexplicably sad, green-rimmed, and glassy.

After a minute or two, Nyota turned towards the shelf above his bed, picking up the PADD that she had strategically positioned there when her Vulcan was in the shower.

"Do you want me to read for you? It might help you to fall back asleep."

"That – HnNGTSh'huh! - would be agreeable."
Spock turned around, cuddling up a little closer to her, his head resting next to her chest. Nyota knew that he was listening to her heartbeat, the steady sound calming his feverish mind.

She began to read aloud.

"Ek' svi' ta kin-kur aru…"

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

McCoy returned from the officer's lounge after one or two glasses of whisky at about half-past ten. Walking along the corridor to his quarters, he wondered vaguely how Spock was doing. He wasn't really concerned about the green-blooded hobgoblin, no, but still, Spock's physiological reactions to illness were often unpredictable and a quick check-in would not hurt. Spock would probably be asleep, anyway.  And M‘Benga had given him some modified hyposprays, just in case Spock needed them.

McCoy stepped close to the door, which registered him as the CMO immediately, and promptly slid into the wall.

"… fi' k'neik shahan ish-veh ki' fam pubeglanau…"

The doctor gave a polite cough to interrupt Uhura, who seemed quite absorbed in her reading. Spock was half-asleep, buried under his blankets, his head resting on Uhura's chest. There was something adorable about the image that presented itself to him, McCoy mused. Spock looked so... vulnerable. Still, it wasn't right for him to intrude like this. He cleared his throat again, louder this time.

"Oh, hello, Leonard. Coming to check up on Spock?"

"Yes. And you, what are you doing up reading?"

Spock lifted his head wearily. His hair was mussed and sticking up in some places, and his cheeks and nose had lost nothing of their previous greenish tint.

"Nyota regularly reads aloud texts in foreign tongues to practice her language portfolio and enhance her pronunciation. Naturally, I find listening to her skilled performance pleasant."

His speech was garbled by congestion and he sounded, for lack of better terminology, very sleepy and a little grumpy. If his vocabulary had not been as sophisticated as ever, Leonard might have confused the Vulcan with a regular human being. Gods, Spock must really be feeling awful, the doctor thought. Best not to provoke him.

"Well, don't mind me, then. I just wanted to make sure your fever isn't getting the better of you, Spock."

The good doctor took out his tricorder in order to make a reading. Spock, meanwhile, quickly snatched a tissue from the box next to the bed.

"Hih… HiIISHUuh! Hi...IISHhh!"

Nyota reassuringly placed a hand on his lean shoulders as he softly cleared his nose.

"Bless ya. Hmm, seems like the fever is where it usually hovers… about 38 degrees. I don't think you need another hypo unless you're in pain. Or maybe to help you sleep?"

"No, thank you, doctor. I am adequate."

Nyota shot him a suggestive glance at this reply.

"Are you sure, Spock? A mild sedative might help with the fever dreams."

Spock looked a little flustered after Nyota‘s suggestion, then recovered with a cough that turned into a short, slightly congested fit. His girlfriend was rubbing his back softly.

"Well, there's nothing to be embarrassed about, Spock. Your fever is pretty dang high, at least for a Vulcan. No wonder you're having nightmares. M'Benga has given me this, freshly replicated. It's not perfect, but with the improved formula, nausea should be quite mild. And anyway, you won't notice it once you're asleep. And until then, Uhura can distract you with some Andorian poetry or whatever it is you're reading."

"It's actually the Vulcan translation of… an old Earth classic, doctor."

"Yeah, anyway, does that sound like a good plan to you, Spock?"

"Affirmative, doctor. Please tell Dr M'Benga that his efforts are… appreciated."

Spock punctuated the statement with a sniffle and, to the doctor's surprise, a stifled yawn rather than a sneeze. McCoy quickly went to work, charging the hypospray and administering it to Spock's neck. Unlike Jim, the Vulcan did not flinch at the pain, though he shivered slightly at the touch of the doctor's cold hand, and McCoy could feel an echo of the Commander's emotions – exhaustion, a strange mix of misery and contentment and quiet gratefulness.

"Having trouble keeping your shields up, Spock?"

"Ye-yes, Doc...Doctor. HuH-ISShh! HiInNGTchuUh!"

Spock sniffled pathetically in the aftermath of those sneezes, moaning softly afterward as he haphazardly cleaned himself up with a tissue. Even before the hypospray had been administered, his eyelids had been heavy and now they were positively drooping. McCoy softly pressed his shoulder to push his friend back into the pillows. The Vulcan obliged, clutching his heavy blanket and snuggling back into Nyota's side with closed eyes. It took only moments until his snuffling evened out into sickly snores.

 "Huh, apparently those modifications worked better than we thought. Normally, these mild drugs take a while to work on his damned hybrid physiology. Or well, maybe he was just really tired."

"He was almost asleep when you came in. I had been reading to him for a good twenty minutes already, though."

"Yeah, well, you do have a pleasant voice. Anyway, what were you reading to him? Shakespeare?"

"Alice in Wonderland, actually."

"There's a version of Alice in Wonderland in Vulcan of all languages?"

Nyota wordlessly handed him her PADD, careful not to disturb Spock, who had buried one of his hands in her nightshirt. The doctor eyed the text curiously as the universal translator went to work.

Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carol, translation by A. Grayson; ShirKar, 2232

"Oh. An old childhood favorite, then?"

"Yes. I think he has a paper copy stored away somewhere, too. In English, of course."

"Well, that is… surprisingly sentimental for Spock."

Uhura just smiled at McCoy in response and absentmindedly ran a slender hand through the shiny black hair of the man asleep against her chest. McCoy suddenly felt like he was intruding.

"Yeah, anyway. Spock should sleep soundly for the next seven to eight hours, but if anything's wrong, just call me. Unless we have another emergency, I'm gonna be right next door."

"Goodnight, Leonard."

"Goodnight, you two."

And with that, and a small smile on his lips, McCoy exited Spock's quarters, hearing Nyota order the computer to turn off the lights just as the doors swished closed. He stifled a yawn of his own as he mused to himself how soft the stubborn Vulcan could be if he wanted to.

A few days of tender loving care might just do Spock some good.

_______________________________________________________________________

 

There, I think I might add one last chapter and that's it. Soft cuddly Spock is very fun to write, though

 

[AngelEyes]

Awww. Adorable.