I completed both holiday stories and they are posted on AO3. Now I get to happily bid 2017 goodbye.
This week, I am posting various flash fics involving sick/injured Spirk. They’ve been in circulation for a while but sometimes it’s fun to revisit them.
“Spock—” Whatever Jim was about to say was interrupted by another bout of horrendous, chest deep coughing.
Spock could not help feeling alarmed. To him, Jim’s cough was not improving. “I am going to comm Dr. McCoy.”
“No, Spock.” Jim rubbed his chest. “He already said the cough lingers the longest. It’s fine.”
“You are sounding worse.”
“I’m not worse. He checked me just a few hours ago,” Jim said hoarsely. “It’ll be gone soon enough. I’m going to sleep in my own quarters tonight and you sleep in yours.”
“Because I kept you awake all last night.”
“Vulcans need less sleep.”
“Yeah, but they don’t need no sleep, Spock. It’s just for a night or two. You couldn’t even meditate.”
Spock did not point out that he could not sleep or meditate because he was concerned over Jim’s health. Since they had become romantically involved they had spent every night together and it was not something Spock wished to change.
Jim smiled, but it was strained and his eyes were watery and tired looking. Spock wanted Jim with him more than ever, since he wanted to keep an eye on him. He was beginning to doubt Dr. McCoy’s abilities.
“It’s going to be okay, Spock. It’s just for maybe three nights.”
His alarm increased. “Less than one minute ago it was a night or two and now it has become three nights.”
“Well, whatever. It probably won’t be that long. I’m just tired.”
Spock wanted to argue but Jim’s expression had changed to his official ‘captain’ look instead of Spock’s lover. He nodded. “Very well. But if you change your mind and decide you desire company after all I will be amenable.”
“Okay, deal. Love you.”
“And I love you.”
Spock went to his own quarters without Jim with no little reluctance. He wasn’t certain he could relax enough to sleep or meditate with his concern over Jim, so when he reached his quarters, he commed Dr. McCoy.
“Yes, Spock?” Dr. McCoy asked wearily.
“It is about the captain.”
“Are you certain—?”
“I’ve checked him three times. The worst of the flu that spread through the ship is over. The cough lingers.”
“It sounds deep in his chest.”
“I know, but it’s breaking up. Do you really think I would be casual about Jim’s health, Spock?”
The doctor had a point though Spock did not intend to admit it to him. “Very well. Spock out.”
He undressed and put on his sleeping robe and got into his own bed, by himself. The bed smelled of Jim now since he spent so much time there. They preferred Spock’s quarters for the most part because Spock liked it warm and Jim liked the layout of Spock’s quarters better. Spock suspected Jim just wanted to make Spock happy.
He attempted to sleep for one hour and ten minutes. He gave up and went to his meditation mat. He tried that for another hour, but he could not concentrate.
Spock exhaled and decided he had to ignore his captain’s orders. He entered their shared bathroom and heard Jim coughing. He walked into the quarters and realized it was cold. He stepped over to the bed.
Jim peered up at him. “Spock, what are you—”
“I cannot sleep alone,” Spock said.
Jim sighed. “Stubborn Vulcan.” He lifted the covers. “Come in then. Don’t say I didn’t try to spare you.”
Spock got into bed next to Jim and pulled him close. “I will not.”
Jim shook his head. “Crazy Vulcan. Goodnight.”
In Sickness 2
Jim carried the tray precariously as he approached Spock’s quarters. He’d almost dropped the contents five times, but somehow it had remained upright. But he was carrying the tray with two hands so now he was going to have to do it one handed.
He bit his lip. Should be voice override anyway. Jim juggled the tray on his shoulder and keyed in his entry code. He winced when a little more soup spilled out.
The door swooshed open and Jim entered. The lights were dimmed low but he could see the Vulcan laying in the bed on his back, blankets pulled up to his chin.
Jim carried the tray over and set it on the table next to the bed. He peered down at Spock and saw his eyes were open and he was looking up at Jim.
“Jim,” Spock rasped.
He smiled and knelt next to Spock. He brushed his fingers over Spock’s forehead, pushing away the matted hair. “How do you feel?”
“I am cold.”
“You want more blankets, sweetheart?”
“Okay.” Jim kissed his forehead and then stood. “I brought you Plomeek soup. There’s even some left I didn’t spill.”
“You want to sit up so you can eat?”
Spock nodded again, so Jim helped him to sit up and tucked pillows behind his back and head. He brought Spock his soup and then went in search of more blankets. When be brought two more, Spock nodded his approval.
Jim sat on the edge of the bed and watched Spock eat. “I’m sorry you’re sick.”
“I did not expect to be affected by the Dafordian Flu.”
“I know. Vulcan physiology usually means nothing affects you. This time it doesn’t affect humans.”
“I am gratified. I did not want to see you ill with this.”
“Bones said it should only last a day or two longer and you’ll feel a lot better.”
“I am glad.”
Jim smiled and reached for Spock’s hand. “Want me to leave you alone?”
“Do you have to go back to the bridge?”
“No, I’m off the next eight hours.”
“You require rest. You look tired.”
“Spock, don’t worry about me.”
“I always will.”
Jim shook his head. “Want me to stay or go?”
Spock threaded his fingers with Jim’s. “Please stay. If it will not make you uncomfortable.”
“It won’t.” Jim stood up, took Spock’s empty soup bowl away, and pulled off his shirt and pants and crawled onto the bed in just his underwear.
“It is not too warm for you?”
“A little. But it’s okay. Computer, lights off.”
“Good night, Spock.” He touched his fingers to Spock’s in a Vulcan kiss.
“Good night, Jim.”
“Bones…” the captain protested as Dr. M’Benga pulled the doctor from his arms the moment they beamed on board the Enterprise.
“I’ve got him, Captain,” M’Benga assured him and the doctor was placed on a gurney.
Dr. McCoy was very white except for blotches of skin that had already begun to bruise and the red streaks covering the doctor’s torn shirt.
Kirk followed after the gurney as they wheeled him away and Spock followed after Kirk.
When they reached the medbay, Kirk made to follow them into the surgical room.
“Wait out here, Captain,” M’Benga told him.
They disappeared through the door and Kirk stepped forward as though to go in anyway. Spock stopped him with a grasp of his shoulder.
“Get off me, Commander,” Kirk snapped and Spock removed his hand immediately. The captain did turn from his intent, however, and began to pace the area in front of the door.
“Captain, there was nothing you could have done to prevent injury to the doctor,” Spock said after a few minutes of watching his captain pace.
“Bull. Shit. It should have been me.”
“Negative. The Naisrants wanted you to choose between myself and Dr. McCoy. No positive outcome could result from that.”
“I should have just told them to choose me.”
“Then you would have been injured.”
“Better me than Bones.”
Spock did not agree. Not that he wished harm to come to the doctor. He did not. “Dr. M’Benga will see that the doctor fully recovers, Captain.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Kirk asked, eyes flashing fire.
“Then Dr. McCoy will have given his life in duty to prevent your death, Captain.”
“You know, Spock, you are my favorite person…Vulcan…being…whatever. But right now? Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”
Spock straightened. “If my presence is unwelcome I will exit the medbay.”
Kirk sighed, rubbed his eyes. “It’s not unwelcome. I know this whole…whatever…is new between us, I get that. But the way to comfort me is not to tell me my best friend died giving his life for me, okay?”
“Dr. McCoy is still alive.”
“I know that, Spock. “
Spock remained quiet for a moment, and then asked, “What is the best way to comfort you?”
“Just…be here with me, okay?”
After twenty minutes of his captain pacing, Spock intervened again and found two chairs. He placed them by the door of the surgery room.
Kirk looked at the chairs. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Sit,” Spock said, his voice firmer. He was gratified when the captain sat. He replicated two cups of tea and handed one to his captain before taking his seat in the other chair.
The captain took a sip of tea and sighed. “Thanks.”
“I am offering comfort more appropriately?” Spock queried.
Kirk smiled a little. “Yeah, yeah you are.”
Three hours later when Dr. M’Benga came out of the room, Spock woke his captain, who was leaning on Spock’s shoulder, snoring softly.
Kirk straightened, blinked, and then stood. He swayed a little and Spock steadied him with a hand on his captain’s back. “Bones?”
M’Benga smiled. “He’ll be fine, Captain. He’s in recovery and later we’ll move him to a bed.”
The captain grinned. “Great. That’s great. Thank you.”
M’Benga nodded and went back inside.
“You should get some rest,” Spock murmured.
“A shower would be in order, too,” Kirk agreed. He tilted his neck and then cracked it. “My neck’s a little stiff.”
“From leaning over on your chair.”
He nodded. “You make a good pillow, Mr. Spock.”
“I am, of course, pleased to assist you in any way I can.”
His captain smiled. “I’ll so remind you of that later.” He yawned. “God, I hated that place.”
“It was not my favorite mission either.”
Kirk laughed at that and it was a laugh that wrapped around Spock most pleasantly. “You have such a gift for understatement, Commander.”
Spock arched a brow. “I will be on the bridge, Captain.”
“I’ll see you there later.” They walked out of the medbay and the captain held up his two fingers as Spock had taught him. Spock met them and then they parted, walking in the opposite direction in the corridor.
Jim accessed Spock’s quarters and entered into a blast furnace. He winced. He swore he almost started sweating immediately.
“Here, Captain.” The raspy, barely there voice sounded like Spock. Kind of.
Jim approached the bed where Spock lay under what could only be described as a mountain of blankets and sheets. In fact he was covered by so many Jim suspected he’d absconded with those from Jim’s quarters and perhaps several other crewmembers.
He looked down at the very pale Vulcan.
“Hey, sweetheart. Bones told me you have the Norvarian flu.”
Spock nodded. His brown eyes were glazed and his hair stood on end.
Jim sat on the edge of the bed and touched his forehead. “You’re burning up. How hot do you have it in here?”
“95 degrees Fahrenheit.”
“If you would like me to lower it—”
“No, Spock. I want you to have what you need. Are you cold?”
“Damn. I’m sorry you got sick. I’m gonna ream Bones a new one for not figuring this out before you got infected. What happened to Vulcans being immune to everything?”
“That is a fallacy. And I am half-human.”
Jim leaned down and kissed Spock’s feverish brow. “What do you need? What can I do for you?”
“I do not wish to inconvenience you,” Spock said with obvious reluctance.
“I’m on a break right now. Scotty’s on the bridge. I’m yours for the next four hours.”
Spock was quiet and simply stared at Jim.
“What?” Jim asked, stroking Spock’s hair. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“I am told body heat is a good way of keeping warm,” Spock said, his soft voice straining. “I do not wish to infect you.”
“You won’t. I was inoculated against the Norvarian flu when I was on Tarsus. It was one of the few good things from those days.” Jim did not look forward to roasting to death under the covers with Spock but he also would do just about anything for his still secret lover.
Jim removed his shirts and then reached to yank off his boots.
“Are you certain?” Spock whispered. “I do not wish to make you unhappy.”
“You make me happy. Everything else doesn’t matter.”
“Computer, lower temperature twenty degrees,” Spock ordered.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Jim stood to remove his pants and boxers.
“With you in bed beside me I will not need it.”
Jim smiled and slipped under the covers. Spock immediately pulled Jim to him and plastered him against him, his arms looping around Jim’s middle. Spock gave a contented sigh and Jim decided his discomfort was worth it to make Spock happy.
Jim woke up to the sound of someone entering Spock’s quarters. He blinked his eyes blearily, trying to struggle up from the Vulcan who had decided to make Jim his bed. Spock was too heavy and would not budge.
“Okay, Spock, this should make you feel a lot better,” Bones declared from right next to the bed.
Spock stirred and began to move off Jim. “Doctor?”
“Yeah, I—Jim!” Bones had lifted the blankets that covered them.
Jim smiled sheepishly even as Spock tried to cover Jim from Bones’ gaze.
“Doctor, please let go of the blankets,” Spock said. “You are exposing the captain.”
“I can see that!” Bones said, dropping the blankets and covering his eyes.
Spock tucked the blankets around Jim. “Why are you here?”
“To give you a shot! You’re supposed to be sick.”
“And I am. The captain was keeping me warm.”
Jim laughed. “I think you might be making it worse, Spock.”
“Jesus, Jim. Spock? Spock is your lover?”
“That is not your business, doctor.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “I think the cat’s out of the bag now, Spock.”
“The cat, doctor?”
“Never mind.” Bones stabbed Spock in the neck with a hypospray. “This should make you feel a lot better. Almost as good as new.”
“Looks like you lost that wager, Bones,” Jim said with a huge grin.
“Well, how was I supposed to know you’d lost your damn mind?”
“To what do you refer, doctor?”
Bones snorted. “I can tell he’s feeling better already. I’m going. And I just have to say, no details.”
“Shut up, Spock. Though, I gotta know, when? How?”
“One month and two and a half weeks ago,” Spock replied. “If you desire hours and minutes as well as seconds—”
“I don’t,” Bones interrupted.
“And as for how,” Jim said. “That’s easy. Spock was upset I got hurt during a landing party and when you released me he attacked me and fuc—”
“La, la, la,” Bones said loudly, plugging his ears. “Forget I asked. In fact, forget I was here. In fact, I never was.”
They both watched as Bones practically ran out of Spock’s quarters.
“I believe I have won the wager, Captain.”
Jim shook his head and then frowned up at Spock. “What?”
“I placed an anonymous wager.”
“You-you did? But Spock, that’s-that’s cheating.”
“Yes, because you had inside knowledge.”
Spock nodded. “I see. I suppose I must forfeit my winnings. I am not used to gambling.”
Jim smiled. “Yeah, I know. How do you feel?”
“I am greatly improved.”
“Good. I think I’m due back on the bridge soon. I’d like to get a shower.”
“Do you desire company?”
Jim’s eyes widened. “Do you feel that much better?”
Jim licked his lips. “Hot damn. Then, yeah. Hell, yeah. If you’re sure.”
“I am sure.” Spock leaned down to kiss him, pressing him into the mattress.
Jim groaned. “Maybe the shower can wait.”
McCoy’s Worst Day
McCoy had a duty to perform but that didn’t mean he had to like it. No, in fact, he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted to do less than this particular duty. He had an ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. Wasn’t sure it would ever go away.
“Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer’s log, Stardate 2341.2.” McCoy paused. Swallowed the lump. Pinched his nose to stop the tears, at least temporarily. “After the Shuttlecraft, Gamma 3, crashed and exploded on the planet, Janys VI, Captain James-James T. Kirk and first officer, Commander Spock, are presumed dead. A scan for life forms revealed no survivors. Rescue operations found wreckage too complete to find any remains.”
How everything could have gone so wrong, McCoy didn’t know. He’d had breakfast with his two best friends that very morning. An ordinary day, an ordinary mission.
Jim had been pretty cheerful and Spock had been…Spock.
“What’s that you’re eating?” McCoy asked as Jim joined him at the table. Spock was close behind with tea and a bowl of fruit. Lately Jim and Spock were always together. Joined at the hip, McCoy would say.
“Oatmeal,” Jim declared with an easy grin. “I figured you’d approve.”
“I do.” He narrowed his eyes at them. “You two are awful chummy.”
“Meaning?” Jim asked, sipping from his coffee.
McCoy shrugged. “I left you last night, you were together. I see you first thing this morning, you’re together. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think—” He closed his mouth, staring at them as Spock arched a brow.
Jim smiled. “You’d think?”
He cleared his throat. “Uh, never mind.”
“A wise choice, doctor.”
And now? Damn it, he’d give anything to hear Spock call him “doctor” in that just above disdainful voice. He’d give anything to hear Jim’s laugh. This was so fucking unfair. He didn’t want to serve with anyone but them.
McCoy reached for his stash of bourbon. He needed to get drunk to forget this was the worse damn day of his life.
“Scott to Dr. McCoy.”
McCoy lifted his head from his desk. Next to him was the still largely untouched glass of bourbon he’d poured. “McCoy here.”
“Doctor—we-we just got word.” Scotty’s voice broke.
Ah, hell what now.
“Scotty, what is it?”
“It’s Captain Kirk.”
His heart stopped. “Did they find his remains?” Tears pricked at his eyes.
“No! Doctor, he’s alive.”
McCoy got up from his seat so fast his chair fell over. “What? Jim? Where?”
“He just contacted us. We’re beaming him and Mr. Spock up. Meet them in the transporter room.”
He was already running for the transporter. His heart was practically in his mouth. He had no idea what condition they were in. But they were alive. “M’Benga to the transporter room.”
Scotty was behind the controls himself when McCoy entered the transporter room. He shook his head. “Don’t know the details. Something about being held prisoner. They are injured. Sulu went down to get them.”
Dr. M’Benga rushed through the doors, followed quickly by medics with gurneys.
“Sulu to Enterprise. Beam us up.”
Scotty pulled the lever and Sulu, Jim, and Spock appeared on the pads. Sulu and Jim were both bracing Spock. Jim had a large bleeding gash across his forehead and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Spock was unconscious.
“What the hell happened?” McCoy asked, moving forward. He was elated. Jim was alive. And looked like he would be just fine. But Spock—
“The shuttlecraft was tampered with. Just before the crash, Spock and I were beamed to some prison,” Jim explained. “We were both beaten, tortured. They were gonna kill me, but Spock protected me.” He stopped, took a deep breath, and then continued, “We escaped, but then Spock collapsed. Bones, please.”
McCoy knew exactly what his best friend was asking. They got Spock on a gurney and off to medbay. Jim followed them, anxiously waiting on the side.
“What about you, Jim? I need to check your injuries,” McCoy said as he and M’Benga began to check Spock over.
“Not now, Bones. I’m okay. Just-Just make sure Spock is okay.”
McCoy grimaced but concentrated on examining Spock.
“He’s in the Vulcan healing trance,” M’Benga declared a few minutes later. “He should be all right when he comes out of it.”
“Great,” McCoy said, feeling a great deal of relief. He’d gone from thinking his best friends were dead to having them both alive. He turned to Jim, with a smile. “Now let’s see how you are.”
“Bones, don’t worry.” Jim smiled, but it was very strained. “I got hit in the head and…and my stomach…it really hurts, but I’ll be—”
McCoy watched Jim sink to the floor. “Jim! Nurse, M’Benga!”
McCoy was running his tricorder over Spock when suddenly Spock’s hand grabbed his wrist. “Spock?”
Spock blinked. “Doctor.”
“How do you feel?”
“I am well. The captain?”
McCoy grimaced. “Spock.”
“Where is the captain?” Spock sat up.
“You should rest.”
“I am fine. I wish to know where the captain is.”
McCoy sighed. “Let go of my wrist. He’s in the bed next to you.”
Spock glanced toward the other bed and saw Jim laying there unconscious. McCoy watched Spock’s expression change to one of anguish. “Is he—”
“It was touch and go. Internal bleeding. He wouldn’t let us treat him until we knew you were going to be all right. We caught it just in time, Spock. He’s going to be fine.”
Spock stood up and McCoy instantly tried to push him back down onto the biobed but Spock was far too strong and determined. “As I have stated twice before, I am fine. Allow me to see the captain.”
With a sigh, he relented and watched as Spock made it to Jim’s biobed. Spock reached for Jim’s hand, held it in his.
Jim opened his eyes. “Spock?”
“You’re all right?”
Spock brought Jim’s hand to his lips and as McCoy watched, a little startled, he kissed Jim’s fingers. “Now that you are, yes.”
Jim smiled. “Tired.”
“Rest, my Jim.” And then Spock leaned down to place a brief kiss on Jim’s lips. He released Jim’s hand and then turned back to McCoy with an arched brow. “Doctor?”
McCoy shook his head. “Nothing, Spock.” He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “I’m really glad-I’m really glad you’re both here.”
“As are we, doctor. Thank you.”