String Theory (Spock/Kirk AOS)

This is exactly why McCoy hates flying

Spock is only mostly dead, Kirk single-handedly blows up an entire outpost, this is exactly why McCoy hates flying, and Pike comes to the (somewhat painful) realization that he has nobody to blame but himself.

—~—

2257.205 (cont'd)

Spock is cold.

The shock of it is what awakens him. His body is shivering, almost convulsing in an effort to generate warmth. It is the first thing he is aware of, teetering along the narrow bridge between consciousness and the void of deep meditation his body is seeking. But he is aware enough to know that meditation will not help him now, except to deter the pain. The pain follows the cold quickly, and is worse than he hypothesized. Then again, Spock has never been shot, and certainly not with weapons that still fired projectiles.

He attempts to open his eyes, and for a moment thinks he may be blind-folded, because it is still dark. But no, it merely takes his eyes two point four seconds to adjust — there is light, dim and out of his line of sight, and it illuminates the silhouettes of the two figures above him. He cannot understand the words; this close, he can decipher why his translator is useless. The creatures appear to be stuttering, but it is only due to the fact that they are speaking using such a high frequency that his ears are only able to detect small portions of the speech. There is also the fact that he is still suffering residual auditory damage from the explosion, although it has faded to a quieter, mildly irritating hum. The creatures appear to be arguing, gesticulating and breathing heavily.

Spock closes his eyes again and concentrates on his body. The skin of his chest is exposed; someone has removed his uniform shirt. The bare skin of his back lies against something flat and smooth (metal, perhaps) and elevated. The pain seems centered deep within the left part of his chest. His entire side feels aflame despite the coldness of the room, and he is having trouble breathing. He concludes that he is likely suffering massive internal bleeding and perhaps a partially collapsed lung. That leaves two possibilities: either the blood will fill his chest cavity, suppressing his lungs and asphyxiating him, or the untreated open wound will become infected and he will die of shock as the sepsis sets in.

He does not assuage himself with the idea of rescue. Protocol in this situation dictates those able to return to the ship do so as soon as possible to re-evaluate the situation before pursuing lost comrades. It is likely he is already assumed dead. Even if the shot did not kill him instantly, it is clear that this species is extremely hostile. There is no reason for anyone to assume they would not execute Spock once it is discovered he is still alive. Failing that, they will turn to interrogation, and when unsuccessful will resort to execution. The wound, left untreated, will kill him anyway.

Given the choice, Spock prefers asphyxiation. Quicker, and certainly less painful.

There is a loud explosion to his right, followed by the familiar — though somewhat muted — sound of phaser fire. Spock opens his eyes in time to see the two dark figures above him turn towards the noise. The first drops before completing the move, hitting the table on its way down and sending a new shock of pain through Spock's body. The pain eclipses his vision, but he hears the telling sound of something heavy hitting the floor zero point three seconds later.

"Jesus Christ," are the first words Spock hears that do not require a translator to be understood.

"Oh, fuck." The second voice is unmistakable. It has been a constant presence at his shoulder for the past two months. "Is he..."

"He's alive, Jim." The doctor. Spock wants to tell them that this is not protocol; they should be back onboard the Hawking, reporting to Captain Pike. "Not for long, though. Can you bolt that door? I need to take care of this now."