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A Gift from the Romulans (Star Trek TOS, Sick!Spock)

• Hurt/Comfort

By spirkestielgirl87 February 1, 2015 in Fanfiction

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spirkestielgirl87

Hello everyone! So I know it is bad form to start a new fic when you still have people waiting on you to finish another, but what can I say, inspiration struck and I had to roll with it. For those of you still waiting on my SPN fic, I will finish sometime, just not sure when (sorry!).

Anywho, I was watching one of my favorite TOS episodes "The Enterprise Incident" and this fic just sort of popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. It starts out kind of... slow. As in no sneezing. But eventually the sneezing will come. I've only finished two chapters, but I have a pretty good idea of where I want to go with it. Slightly slashy (spirk) but not explicitly so. So here it goes...

______________________

A Gift from the Romulans

It had been two days since they’d returned from their mission on the Romulan ship. Thanks to Spock’s convincing performance in fooling the Romulan Commander into thinking he was falling in love with her, they were able to steal the cloaking device they had been charged with procuring. Spock executed the plan perfectly, and they had been successful in their mission. However, instead of being satisfied with himself, Spock seemed to be…well if he’d been human the word would be “sad”.

Kirk noticed that he’d been very quiet, even more so than usual. And where he usually went above and beyond in his duties as Chief Science Officer, the last two days he seemed to be doing the bare minimum, and seemed… slower than usual. He also noticed that Spock left the bridge abruptly after his shift was over, retreating straight to his quarters instead of heading down to the labs to check on his Lieutenants.

Kirk wondered if there was a chance that perhaps Spock really had fallen for the Commander with the similarly pointed ears. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Vulcan mating worked. Spock had just undergone Pon Farr a year ago, and wasn’t due to mate again for another six years. Did that mean, though, that Spock was immune to the effects of sexual attraction in the meantime? Could his sluggishness be caused by longing for the beautiful Commander with whom they’d parted ways? Maybe his performance on the mission had been so convincing because it wasn’t a performance at all...

As much as Kirk hated having to ask such personal questions of his first officer for whom privacy was of the utmost importance (especially regarding such delicate matters as feelings), he needed to know what was going on. As captain, he depended on Spock’s diligence in his duties, and anything less was not acceptable. And as his friend, of course, he was concerned for Spock’s wellbeing. Heartache was difficult for any species, let alone a half-Vulcan.

As soon as his shift ended, he saw Spock rise, and like he had done the two nights prior, immediately leave his post on the bridge without so much as a word. This time, Kirk followed him. Once in the privacy of the turbolift, Kirk decided it was time for answers. “Spock, is everything alright? You seem…” Kirk searched for the word that would mean what he meant with the least amount of insult to his Vulcan friend. “…down.”

Spock looked up at his captain with his signature eyebrow raise. “Surely you are not referring to the emotional state of depression. You are aware, Captain, that sadness is a human trait.”

Kirk noticed that despite the fact that their shift was over, Spock was still calling him “Captain”. He decided this was Spock’s way of showing his discomfort at being interrogated over something so personal as he tried to keep the conversation as formal as possible.

“Yes, I am aware. However, I have noticed that since we’ve returned from the Romulan mission you have seemed rather... distracted.”

Spock nodded, as if in agreement. “Yes Captain, your observation is correct. I have been slightly distracted . I apologize if it has had a discernible effect on my ability to perform my duties.”

“I see. So, correct me if I’m wrong, but would this distraction have anything to do with a certain Romulan Commander?”

Spock narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly in contemplation. “I believe I know what you are implying, Captain, and I must assure you that you have never been more wrong. The Commander did leave an impression on me, yes, but it was purely an intellectual one.”

Kirk looked a bit skeptical, but accepted the reply. “Of course, purely intellectual. My apologies for insinuating otherwise.”

“Apology accepted, Captain.” Spock attempted to push a button on the turbolift wall, but Kirk moved to block him.

“However, that once again leaves us with the question, Spock, of what is the matter? You said yourself you have been distracted. Are you sure you aren’t experiencing any emotional distress over the last mission? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Yes, it is true that I have been experiencing distress. However, it is only your humanity that leads you to assume that it is caused by some emotional reason. Seeing as I am Vulcan, that assumption is not logical. ”

Kirk wanted to reply that Spock was only half Vulcan, and it wouldn’t be the first time he had experienced emotion, but figured if he was indeed suffering from an unruly feeling telling him that would only exacerbate the situation. Instead, he decided to play Spock’s game. “Alright then. If you do admit that you’ve been distressed, but it is not due to any emotional issue, then what?”

“Well the answer should be quite obvious, Captain. If I have been suffering from distress, and it is not due to an emotional cause, the only logical alternative is that the cause is physical.”

This caught Kirk completely by surprise. “Physical? You mean…Spock, are you ill?”

“I was not certain at first, as my symptoms were quite mild. However, seeing as they do appear to be worsening, I’d say that is a safe assumption.”

Kirk felt like a fool. Of course Spock would not be suffering from something as human as heartache. Perhaps it was Kirk’s ample experience with longing for someone that caused him to project his own feelings onto Spock. Maybe he wanted to believe that Spock could be capable of love for his own selfish reasons. But no, Spock wasn’t enamored; he was simply under the weather- Vulcan emotionlessness still intact.

This didn’t change that fact that he was still concerned for Spock, however. Although illness was more normal for Vulcans than emotionality, it still was not typical. Spock hadn’t been sick once since he’d met him. His Vulcan physiology usually kept him protected from any diseases that affected his human crewmates. If he was able to fall victim to an ailment, it had to be a pretty severe one.

“I see. Well, in that case I think it would be logical for you to report to Sickbay for a medical examination.”

“That is what I was attempting to do, Captain. I was headed there when you stopped me.”

Of course he was. Why couldn’t he have just said that in the first place and saved Kirk the embarrassment of asking him if he was in love? He had half a mind to think that Spock got pleasure from seeing him make a fool of himself.

“Very well, then, proceed.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kirk pressed the button to open the doors of the turbolift. Before stepping back out onto the bridge he looked back at Spock.

“And Spock?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Get well soon,”

“That is my intention, Jim.”

There it was. Jim. It felt good to hear.

ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST* ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*ST*

Spock entered Sickbay to find it practically empty save for an unconscious patient in a bio bed and Dr. McCoy leaning over him adjusting his vitals monitor. The doctor seemed startled at Spock’s sudden entrance.

“Well, if it isn’t the hobgoblin. What are you doing here? I was just wrapping up for the night. I don’t suppose you’ve come to offer yourself as a post-shift drinking companion?” McCoy chuckled, but stopped when he saw Spock’s serious exp ression.

“I’ve come to be examined, Doctor. However, if you wish to retire for the evening, I can wait until tomorrow…”

Examined? Spock came to be examined? He usually seemed to loathe medical examinations, (despite his claim that loathing was a human emotion that was beneath him) and quite frankly, McCoy didn’t blame him. What for the other Starfleet officers was a quick routine exam, for Spock was a long, tedious affair as the machines all had to be recalibrated to accommodate the differences in his vitals. If Spock was voluntarily submitting to an unscheduled medical examination there must be something wrong. This caused McCoy to feel a bit worried, but he hid it with a smile. “Nonsense. Take a seat. What seems to be the trouble?”

Spock sat down and swallowed, as if preparing for what he was about to say. Dr. McCoy was the last person to whom he liked showing vulnerability. He reminded himself that this was illogical, though, and that despite the doctor’s tendency to poke fun at Spock when he was well, he took his job too seriously to resort to ridiculing him when he was ill. “For the past 2.4 days I have been experiencing an array of symptoms. They appeared quite negligible at first, but have been gradually growing in severity.”

“Symptoms? Can you be more specific?” McCoy got his tricorder and began running it over Spock’s body as he spoke.

“Fatigue, headache, nausea, muscle aches, chills.” Spock listed these symptoms mechanically, as if they had been rehearsed. He then added, a bit more uncertainly, “ I also feel a strange heaviness in my chest that has been making it increasingly difficult to breathe properly.”

“Hmmm. Try taking a breath in for me now,” McCoy ordered. Spock obeyed and inhaled deeply. The result was an involuntary coughing fit. Once Spock caught his breath, the doctor ran the tricorder over his chest. Then, looking at the readings, began to frown slightly.

“What is it Doctor?”

“You say you’ve been experiencing the symptoms for about two days?”

“I believe I said 2.4, Doctor.”

“Right. You completed your mission with the Romulans about 2.4 days ago, did you not? So would you say your symptoms started then?”

“That is correct.”

“That’s what I thought. “ He set the tricorder down. “Well, it looks like your Vulcan physiology hasn’t done you any favors this time. Because your body is nearly identical to that of a Romulan’s, you are susceptible to their viruses. Seeing as you’ve never been in contact with Romulans before, though, you have absolutely no immunity built up to them. “ McCoy typed something into the PADD next to the bio bed on which Spock was seated. “Now that I think of it, I should have anticipated that you’d catch something from them. I’d almost be surprised if you didn’t.”

“So you’re saying I’ve contracted a virus from one of the Romulans? Do you know what kind of virus, Doctor?”

“Well, it’s hard to say. It’s much different than anything I’m used to working with. But, based on the symptoms, I’d say it’s targeting the lower respiratory system, much like the Terran influenza virus.”

“I see. Is there any treatment you can administer?”

McCoy looked a bit disappointed. “Unfortunately, no. Even if I had a better idea of what the virus was, there is little that can be done to combat a virus. The only treatment is bed rest, which is exactly what I am prescribing.” He continued typing on the PADD. “You are officially off duty for the next six days.”

Spock nodded, then asked “You said I was susceptible to this virus because of the similarities between Vulcan and Romulan physiology. Could I assume, then Doctor, that the virus would be incapable of infecting humans?”

“Yes, that is correct, you are the only one on the ship who can get sick from it, thank heavens. That’s all I would need is an epidemic on my hands. Why do you ask?”

“I believe given enough time to meditate, I will be able to sufficiently suppress my symptoms. If I am correct, and there is no risk of contagion, six days off duty won’t be necessary.”

Leave it to Spock to believe he can mediate the flu away. “Spock if all it took to cure a virus was some peaceful thoughts, I would be out of a profession. It doesn't work that way.”

“Maybe not for humans, but as you consistently point out, I am not like humans. I will return for examination tomorrow so you can ascertain for yourself whether my techniques were successful. Until then, thank you for your time. Good evening, Doctor.” With this Spock rose and hurried out the door to his quarters. McCoy shook his head and went back to the PADD to finish typing up his report.

Link to comment

Oooh, this is good. And a nicely promising set-up, too.

You write a lovely Kirk, by the way- that inner monologue in the turbolift felt very in-character.

And poor Spock! he must be feeling bad if he's volunteering to be prodded by McCoy. I have a feeling this isn't something he can just will away....

SterlingSilver

I'm not a huge Trekkie, but still I can plainly see how well you have constructed these characters. Jim and Spock's interaction, as well as Spoc and Dr. McCoy's talk in the sickbay, are really well-written and brilliantly portrayed. I really love characters who don't normally get sick, get sick. So this is a real treat for me personally >w<. You are taking your time to set the scene, draw the reader in, and tee up a fantastic fic. I have to say I am really, really looking forward to watching this develop <3. Can't wait to read the next part!

Leave it to Spock to believe he can mediate the flu away

And this is adorable, by the way. I laughed xDD So cute, Spock <3

KickingUpTheDust

YESYESYESYESYES MORE TOS IS GOOD ALWAYS GOOD.

TaurielRiver

“Of course, purely intellectual. My apologies for insinuating otherwise.”

VERY Kirk. I could totally hear the inflection in his voice and see his exp ression whilst reading this!

“And Spock?” “Yes, Captain?” “Get well soon,”

Again, very well-timed and just the kind of statement appropriate for their working hierarchy, but also reflective of a genuine concern.

“Spock if all it took to cure a virus was some peaceful thoughts, I would be out of a profession.”

RiversD: Thank you very much! And no, Spock's Vulcan ways won't work this time ;-)

BlackScatter: Yes that is my favorite trope as well- strong characters having a bout of weakness. I am so flattered that you think I portrayed the characters well! They are my favorite characters in the universe, so that really means a lot!

KickingUpTheDust: I never get sick of TOS! My first fandom ;-)

TaurielRiver: Thank you! I agree, this episode has so much to offer, I just had to make it into a fic. And I appreciate you giving me feedback on specific quotes. I'm glad you liked them! Kirk, Spock and Bones have such unique voices, it's so fun to play around with them!

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Spock sat on the floor in his meditation robe, lit candles placed carefully in a semicircle in front of him. He closed in eyes and took a deep breath in. Rather than filling him with control as it usually did, though, it caused him to cough. Just one at first, and then like a domino-effect one cough turned into several until he was overcome with a forceful fit and was unable to take a breath for several moments. When he finally managed to regain control of his lungs, he was left feeling extremely dizzy and weak. Perhaps it would be best to rest for a while and continue meditating when he was refreshed. Admitting defeat, at least for the time being, he rose from the floor and went straight to his bed where he let himself fall into a deep sleep.

He didn’t awake for several hours, and when he did it was not on his own, but rather the result of someone touching him. Opening his eyes, he saw that the touch belonged to Dr. McCoy.

“Well, look who’s awake. I came to check on you when you didn’t keep your promise to come see me this morning for a second examination. I take it mediation wasn’t the magic cure you were hoping for?”

Spock replied (rather hoarsely) “I never promised to come to see you Doctor, I merely stated that I would. And as for meditation being magical, I assure you the effects are purely scientific.”

“Well, then Spock, it seems that science has failed you. Your condition hasn’t improved in the slightest; in fact it’s deteriorated significantly since last night. You have a fever.”

“Yes, it seems I underestimated the strength of the virus.” Spock said with a sniff. His nose was running- a new symptom.

“Or overestimated your ability to control it.” McCoy said sassily.

Spock pretended not to hear him and closed his eyes again. His head was pounding, and the light was making it worse.

Noticing this, McCoy ordered the computer to dim the lights to 30%. “I’ve been working on a concoction to bring that fever down. I had to modify some of the ingredients to work with your green blood, hopefully that’ll help prevent your stomach from getting upset by it. Here” He pulled out a hypospray and injected in into Spock’s upper arm.

Spock opened his eyes, but didn’t move. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You bet. I’ll let you get some rest. If you need anything, or your symptoms get worse feel free to com me.”

Spock gave a slight nod before drifting back to sleep, and the doctor left.

The next time Spock awoke, it wasn’t to a touch, but a sound.-the sound of his quarters’ door buzzing. He sat up and tried to compose himself slightly before hoarsely giving permission to the unknown visitor to enter. Luckily, it was the friendly face of his captain/best friend who greeted him carrying a mug of steaming liquid.

The first thing Jim noticed was how green Spock was. His cheeks, his ears, and his nose were all flushed bright emerald. He tried not to let his exp ression show the worry his friend’s sickly appearance caused him. “Bones says you have some sort of Romulan flu. That sounds awful. How are you feeling?”

Being a Vulcan, Spock had to tell the truth. “Quite unwell, I’m afraid.” He sounded horribly congested. Kirk considered telling him to blow his nose, but he didn’t want to embarrass him more than he must already be. He came and sat beside him on his bed and handed him the mug. This is an old Earth remedy. Try it”

Spock looked at the steaming liquid. “Ah, yes. Hot tea with lemon and honey.”

“You’ve heard of it?” Jim inquired. Spock sipped it slowly, then quietly replied “My mother replicated it for me once when I was ill as a child.”

For some reason this surprised Kirk. It was easy to forget that Spock had a human mother. He pondered what Spock’s childhood must have been like. How hard it must have been for him having an alien mother with alien traditions. Suddenly his thoughts were cut short by the sound of Spock sneezing loudly.

“Heeeeeeccsshhheeeew!” Spock used the sleeve of his robe to block the spray from hitting Jim in the face. “Excuse me” he said sniffling thickly.

“That doesn’t sound too good. Has Bones been giving you any medicine? Maybe you could get another dose?”

Spock shook his head. “He administered a hypo, but it was less than effective at relieving my symptoms.” He brought his arm up to his face and coughed into it. He was feeling most vulnerable right about now. His bodily functions were running rampant, and he didn’t care it one bit. He missed his control.

It didn’t take telepathy for Jim to know what Spock was thinking. He was usually so composed and had an air of control radiating from his body. Now the only thing radiating from his body was unnatural heat. Spock’s Vulcan makeup already gave him a higher temperature than humans, but Jim could tell that he was much too warm, even for him. In a bold move, Jim reached his hand out and placed it on Spock’s face. It was scorching.

“You feel pretty warm, let me get you a cold cloth.” Before he could rise, though, Spock stopped him.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Jim, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to abandon your duties on the bridge to care for me. I am ill, but sufficient. Your time could be better spent elsewhere.”

Jim smiled. He wasn’t going anywhere. “Sulu’s got the con, he’ll com me if I’m needed. Why don’t you lie back down and… I dunno- relax”

Spock arched an eyebrow and was about to reply when he was interrupted by another vigorous sneeze. “Aaaaahscccuuuu!”

Noticing the stream that was now running down from Spock’s left nostril, Jim couldn’t take it anymore “And blow your nose!”

Spock looked sheepish, but complied.

thank you for writing this!

your fellow trekkie

Subtly Clashing Wishes

This brings back memories. Star Trek TOS was my first fandom. I used to imagine scenarios with a sick Spock and Nurse Chapel. (Hey, I was 7 and I identified with Nurse Chapel.) I like the conceit of Spock catching "Romulan Flu". I am looking forward to the story continuing.

• 2 weeks later...

Thank you for the lovely reviews! I am so glad to know that this story is making people happy;-) Here is the next part. I really tortured Spock in this one. Be warned this does include some mild V and some pre-slashy fever ramblings. Not all of the chapters will be this intense, the next one I think I will go back to the lighter, fluffier stuff. This just seemed to be where the story wanted to go this chapter... anyway here it is!

“Check mate” Jim declared, not with triumph, but with apprehension. That was three times in a row now. It was not like Spock to lose at chess. And not only was he losing, but he was doing so as a result of amateur errors. Jim wondered to what extent Spock’s illness was affecting his mind. Was his logic suffering as a consequence of this awful Romulan bug he’d contracted? There was no doubt his body certainly was. Spock couldn’t go more than a minute without coughing, sniffling or sneezing. His eyes also seemed to be producing a peculiar discharge; like tears but thicker and tinted yellow. Despite the strangeness of this last symptom, Jim had to assume it was perfectly normal for a sick Vulcan as Spock didn’t mention it, but merely wiped the substance away just as he did with his runny nose.

“Another game?” Jim asked hopefully. Despite the fact that Spock was playing terribly, he hoped it would serve as a welcome distraction from his miserable physical state.

Spock shook his head. “I apologize, Jim, but I am finding myself unable to concentrate. I fear my condition has taken a turn for the worse, I… eeh….ehhh. ehschiieew!” Sniff “believe it would be best if I rested for a while.” He blew his nose loudly, wiped his eyes, and lay back in his bed.

Jim didn’t like the glazed over look in Spock’s eyes. He was not himself at all. “How much worse are you feeling? Should I call for Dr. McCoy?” he asked worriedly. Spock shook his head and replied weakly “That won’t be necessary. As I said, I just… need to… rest.” His last syllable evaporated into silence as Spock drifted off to sleep.

Jim noticed he seemed to be shivering a bit, so he gently pulled his blanket up and wrapped it tightly around him. Then, he quietly put away the 3D Chess board and left his ailing first officer’s quarters to return to duty.

Uhura was the first to greet him as he stepped onto the bridge. “Hello Captain”

“Lieutenant Uhura” he acknowledged.

“Captain,” She paused as if collecting the courage to continue. “If you don’t mind me asking, have you seen Mr. Spock today? I was wondering how he was; we heard he was ill.”

Kirk noticed that the other crewmembers on the bridge had suddenly looked up as if awaiting an answer. It seemed to amaze everyone that their unwavering Vulcan superior officer could really have come down with a flu bug just like any red-blooded human.

“Yes I have seen Mr. Spock, and while you are correct that he is unwell, I assure you it’s nothing to concern yourselves with.”

Uhura took this to mean mind your own business and get back to work, so she simply nodded and didn’t ask any further questions, despite her curiosity. The rest of the bridge crew followed suit and curbed their inquisitiveness about their half-alien coworker’s health as well.

The next few hours proceeded normally. They had laid in a course for a newly discovered star system and were about three days from arrival. Jim was curious about the new system. According to what Spock had said the day before, there was a good chance of at least one M class planet awaiting them. It had been a while since they’d explored an entirely new planet. Their previous mission with the Romulans had taken weeks of planning, and had left no room for their usual exploratory endeavors.

Jim always liked to imagine what a new planet and its inhabitants would be like before they beamed down. It was like a game he played with himself, seeing how closely he could predict. 9 out of 10 times he was completely off, but that one time he would come close gave him a certain sense of amusement from being able to accurately predict something using nothing but his intuition. The greatest reward, however, came from seeing Spock’s reaction when he was correct. He, of course, thought the game silly. He would usually listen to the Captain’s predictions while standing over his science station sensors, knowing all the while how far off Jim’s random guesses were, but keeping his mouth shut. On that rare occasion Jim was correct, though, he would be able to see it blatantly on Spock’s face despite his attempts to hide it. He would have that subtle yet revealing look of irritation as his general premise of intuition being inapt was proven wrong.

Thinking of this only reminded Jim of Spock. Would he be well in time to beam down to the new planet? Jim found himself unable to concentrate on his duties, feeling as curious about Spock’s condition as the rest of the crew. Seeing as nothing that required his expertise seemed to be occurring, he finally excused himself from the bridge and returned to the room he’d spend the majority of the morning in.

When Spock gave no reply to Jim’s buzzing, he used his captain’s override code to enter Spock’s quarters on his own. He found Spock lying in the same position in which he had left him. As Jim came closer, though, he could see that Spock wasn’t the same as he had been at all. His face was now covered in gooey green blisters. Jim shook his friend desperately. “Spock! Spock wake up!”

Spock shifted, but did not open his eyes. Instead, he began murmuring something incoherently. “I cannot tell you… it would be inappropriate… I….” Spock sarted coughing roughly.

Jim placed his hand on Spock’s back and began rubbing soothing circles. “Spock, can you hear me?” When the coughs finally subsided, Spock looked at Jim with wide, green-rimmed eyes. “Jim? Is that you?”

He must be delirious from the fever. “Yes, Spock, it’s me. Are you alright? Talk to me.”

“Jim, I… uuhh…uhhschieeew! Ah…schhhhhhhiiiiieeeeeeewww!” Spock sneezed freely into the air without even the slightest attempt to cover his mouth. Jim watched the mist disperse around the room, as streams of liquid poured down from Spock’s green eyes and nose. He looked downright miserable.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I wish I could tell you the truth. It’s just…”

Jim shook his head, confused. “Tell me what, Spock?”

Spock looked at Jim with wildly chaotic eyes. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but then suddenly went pale. His hand rushed up to his mouth, and Jim knew right then what was about to happen. He grabbed a trash bin filled with tissues from nearby and shoved it in Spock’s direction, but unfortunately he was not quick enough.

When Spock was finished leaning over the bed expelling from his stomach of a mixture of tea and bile, he fell back lifelessly onto his pillow. Jim was left in a panic. He dashed to the comm and alerted Bones. He wasted no time with explanations, but instead ordered “Dr. McCoy to Mr. Spock’s quarters at once!” He then hurried back to Spock’s unmoving form. He put his hand to Spock’s face, pulling it toward him to get a better look at the blisters that covered his pale complexion. He had never seen anything like it before. He hoped that, like the unfamiliar discharge that drained from Spock’s eyes, it was just another perfectly natural symptom of Vulcan illness.

Although it was in reality only a couple of minutes that passed between Kirk’s ordering Bones to Spock’s quarters and his arrival, it seemed like hours. Jim glued himself to the half-Vulcan’s side and mindlessly smoothed his hair in gentle, repetitive motions, not so much for the purpose of soothing Spock, who seemed to be thoroughly unconscious, but for his own comfort. He thought of what Spock had said in his feverish delirium. I’m sorry, Jim. I wish I could tell you the truth. The truth about what? He reminded himself that even Vulcans possessed the capability of saying meaningless, illogical things when they were as sick as Spock was. It probably meant nothing.

Bones came charging in with his tricorder in hand. He took one look at the mess Spock had made on the floor and the green spots that had popped up on his face and knew instantly why the captain had called him. “Move aside, Jim, let me take a look at him.” Knowing the doctor needed room to work, he pried himself from Spock’s side and moved to the other side of the room where he paced back and forth.

Bones waved the tricorder over Spock’s body, staring intently. He put a hand to Spock’s neck to feel his glands, then pulled a hypo out of his medical bag and administered it into Spock’s upper arm.

“What’s that?” Jim asked hopefully. He hoped it was some sort of cure, or at least a treatment that would bring Spock back to consciousness.

“Something for the fever. I have a feeling that’s what’s causing the blisters.” Then, looking down at the floor, “and the nausea as well. Vulcans don’t normally get fevers, but when they do they can get really high and lead to all sorts of unpleasant side effects.”

That gave Jim a small sense of relief. As miserable as that sounded, at least Bones knew what was going on, and how to fix it.

“How long will it take to work?”

“Shouldn’t be more than a minute or two before the fever starts to break. He’ll still be pretty sick, though. That wasn’t a cure by any means.”

Jim nodded, and looked pleadingly at Spock. Please wake up! Please…

As if hearing his captain’s mental pleas, Spock opened his eyes. “Jim.”

Ooh, the plot thickens!

Poor Spock, going all brain-fuzzy. that must be awful for someone who relies so much on their higher brain functions.

Jim cares so much... big teddy-bear that he is.

“That won’t be necessary. As I said, I just… need to… rest.” His last syllable evaporated into silence as Spock drifted off to sleep.

It probably meant nothing.

Riiiiight. Well, now I'm nervous.

Nice symptom-descriptions, too!

Mnnnnnn..... cliff hanger

This story is pure gold I've read it so much times is there going to be more?

Poor Spock!

I hope his secret is what I think it is.

More, please. I am dying to find out what happens next.

Poor Spock! I hope his secret is what I think it is.

Well, if you understand the implications of the scene in my avatar, then you are probably thinking right ;-)

Sorry, I have been so busy. I currently have a very sneezy (read motivational) cold and a weekend ahead of me so the chances are good that an update will be coming soon!

Okay you all inspired me. I wrote a bit more. ;-)

__________________________________________

Spock's eyelashes fluttered as if he couldn't decide whether or not to wake up. "Spock!" Jim shook him. "Spock! Are you with us?"

He finally peeled his eyes open and looked straight up at the concerned captain.

"Spock, are you alright?"

Spock’s eyebrows knotted in slight confusion "no, Jim, I am ill. Isn't that obvi..." He was suddenly assailed by a robust bout of wet coughing.

The doctor started moving toward the coughing man, but the captain beat him to the punch. He put his hand on his back and began patting him gently. Spock continued to hack rhythmically, creating a disturbingly wet slurping sound as mucus fled his Vulcan bronchial tubes.

McCoy decided to make himself useful and grab the tissues Spock undoubtedly needed. Spock accepted the box of tissues graciously and used several to spit into, blow his nose and wipe his eyes.

“Much appreciated, Doctor. Thank you,” the patient croaked in what was left of his dreadfully hoarse voice. He handed the tissues back to McCoy who returned them to the table and picked up his tricorder. He checked Spock’s temperature:41.5° C. Though it was pretty high for him, it was an improvement from the blistering heat that had sent him into delirium. He still didn’t want to take any chances, though. “Spock, I think I’d feel better if we moved you to the sick bay for observation. You’re making me nervous.” Spock raised his eyebrow at McCoy’s overly emotional statement, but agreed.

Knowing that Spock’s condition was stable and that it would take the doctor quite a bit of time to get him settled in, Jim didn’t immediately follow them to the sickbay. Instead, he visited the observation deck to do some thinking.

He found himself strangely enthralled by the mystery of what Spock had said in his disorientation. As he gazed out at the endless sea of stars, he tried telling himself that it was nothing. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be something to it. Did Spock have a secret he’d been keeping from him? Jim sure had a secret he’d been keeping from Spock …

By the time Jim got to Sickbay, Spock was lying comfortably in a biobed. He had blankets pulled up high, a shiny box of tissues within reach, and newly recalibrated vital monitors hooked up and beeping steadily. Jim also noticed that his blisters had been treated with some sort of white cream and seemed to be fading.

Jim decided he needed to talk to Spock… alone. “Bones would you mind excusing Spock and me for a moment? There is something I need to discuss with him in private.” The doctor looked a tiny but insulted, but replied with “Yeah, sure, I have another patient that could some attention” and exited.

Spock eyed the captain inquisitively. “What is it you need... eeesschew! to speak to me about, Jim?” He sniffed and plucked a tissue from the shiny box to wipe.

“Spock, do you have any memory of the last few hours?”

Spock thought for a moment. "There are some disturbances in the clarity, but I believe I remember. I was in bed in my quarters. Dr. McCoy woke me up this morning to give me a hypo. I then resumed sleep until you entered my quarters to bring me a cup of Terran tea. We spoke for a while, played three rounds of chess, at which point I began finding it difficult to concentrate. I once again went to sleep until I was awoken by you and the doctor…”

“Wait, no, Spock that’s not right. You were awake again in between the time we played chess and the time you woke up this last time. You don’t remember?”

“No, I do not. Are you certain I was awake, Jim?”

“Yes, you vomited on the floor. It’s still there now”

This would have embarrassed a human, but Spock didn’t seem to feel bashful, only stumped at his inability to account for it happening. He continued to dab at his nose with the tissue as he pondered.

“There’s more. You said something to me I didn’t quite understand. I was rather hoping you could clarify it for me, actually. You said you wanted to tell me something, that you’ve wanted to tell me for so long, but that you couldn’t because it wouldn’t be appropriate. Do you have any recollection of what you meant by that?”

The look that came over Spock’s face just then was one that Jim had never seen in all the years that he’d known Spock. It was one of sheer and utter panic. Though Spock didn't remember saying it, he knew exactly why he'd said it.

*throws phone across the room, curls up in a ball and squeeeeeee~*

Hello everyone,

So first of all, this isn't an update (sorry!)

Also, as always, thank you very much for all of the lovely comments.

So I usually try to update this on the weekends. I actually have an outline finished for the rest of the story. However, I am feeling very ambivalent about finishing this anytime soon. Leonard Nimoy's death really hit me hard, and I feel somehow guilty about writing sick Spock right now. I hope you all understand. Maybe in a few weeks I will be able to bring myself to come back to it. Sorry. Until then, LLAP.

Poniessneezetoo

Love, don't worry about it. I suspect most of us who were enjoying this have been hit hard by it. I know I certainly won't be writing anything Star Trek for a good while yet- to be honest, I won't be reading it either until my brain's settled and able not to bind the two things together in my head.

This story isn't an obligation or a responsibility. Take your time to grieve, and choose whether (and when) to write fanfic again according to what you feel excited to write. Having your interactions with fandom coloured by this loss is not, and never will be, something to apologise for.

May you be comforted, in whatever form comfort comes best for you. LLAP. xx

Love, don't worry about it. I suspect most of us who were enjoying this have been hit hard by it. I know I certainly won't be writing anything Star Trek for a good while yet- to be honest, I won't be reading it either until my brain's settled and able not to bind the two things together in my head. This story isn't an obligation or a responsibility. Take your time to grieve, and choose whether (and when) to write fanfic again according to what you feel excited to write. Having your interactions with fandom coloured by this loss is not, and never will be, something to apologise for. May you be comforted, in whatever form comfort comes best for you. LLAP. xx

Thank you so much for your kind words. I hope that eventually I will be able to write Trek fanfic again, because it gives me so much joy usually. It feels good hearing it confirmed that I'm not obligated to do so, though. Thank you.

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Stories tagged with: spock

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