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NEW2U: "Kolinahr: the Parting", 4/12 (TOS, K&S&Mc, Ch, Sa, Am; anx, h/c [G])

Summary: my end-of-mission story of how Kirk, Spock, et al deal with
Spock's decision to return to Vulcan and attain Kolinahr.  This part:
McCoy and Kirk have a blow-up over Spock's decision, and Spock
unfortunately witnesses it.  Time to book a heavy guilt trip for the
Vulcan...

Disclaimer: Part 1a.

******

Almost three weeks later, Kirk was still trying to get McCoy to change
his mind and accept Spock's decision; Spock, meanwhile, went about his
duties as usual, giving no evidence of the seriousness of his physical
condition or of the tangled emotions he held under such tight
control.  He spent most of his time on the Bridge in the command chair
as Kirk continued to battle it out with McCoy in Sickbay, wondering if
the Doctor would ever give in.  Jim had become so determined to help
him that he was willingly putting himself and McCoy at each other's
throats--and Spock didn't know what to do about it.

While all this was going on, Uhura's idea had caught on and parties
were being planned all over the ship, though most of the crew weren't
sure whether they should be called "parties" or "wakes", since many of
them had no idea what was going to happen--either to themselves or to
the ship--after the dry-dock period was over; the generally accepted
term finally became Uhura's original "homecoming party".
The Bridge crew, of course, would have their own party; they knew by
now that Spock was going back to Vulcan and were planning to have it,
if possible, the night before Spock left.

It finally came to the attention of both Kirk and McCoy that Spock's
physical condition wasn't getting any better.  Spock had studiously
avoided both Sickbay and McCoy ever since the Doctor had walked out of
his quarters, so now Kirk marched onto the Bridge with the intention
of relieving Spock and sending him off to Sickbay.  Spock, however,
simply got up and moved unsteadily off to his station, sinking down
almost gratefully into his chair.  Kirk watched him anxiously, sighing
in exasperation, then turned briefly toward the helmsman's station.
"Status, Mr. Sulu?"

"Steady on heading 212, mark 5.  ETA at Vulcan approximately two
weeks, at this speed," Sulu replied.

"Captain," Uhura said softly, from behind him; he turned and she
pointed toward Spock.

Kirk's eyes followed the path of her finger and saw the Vulcan slumped
over his control console, his head buried in his folded arms.  Kirk
ran to his side and took him gently by the shoulders.  "Spock!"

Spock made himself sit up straight and turn in the chair to face his
Captain, but he still looked as if he were about to faint.  "I am
sorry, Captain," he apologized weakly, unable to meet Kirk's eyes.  "I
should have reported myself unfit for duty and remained in my
quarters…"

"Never mind that now," Kirk interrupted kindly.  "The important thing
is for you to get to Sickbay.  Think you can walk it?"

Spock nodded, getting shakily to his feet.

Kirk followed him cautiously down the steps into the well of the
Bridge, ready to render aid if Spock seemed to need it, and threw a
look at Uhura.  "Lieutenant, call Sickbay and tell Dr. McCoy we're on
our way down."  Then he added, over his shoulder, "Sulu, take over."

******

McCoy was pacing back and forth in his office when the door swooshed
open behind him; he turned to find something vaguely resembling Jim
Kirk's second-in-command standing in the doorway, regarding him
apprehensively.  After a moment, the Vulcan proceeded hesitantly into
the office, followed closely by Kirk.

"Come on in, Spock--we're all set up for you," McCoy told him hastily,
leading the other two on into the examination room.  While Spock moved
carefully across the room toward the examination table from beside
which Nurse Christine Chapel watched him anxiously, McCoy stopped Kirk
as he went to join Spock.  "Uhura sounded sort of excited," he
commented, in a near-whisper.  "What the devil happened up there to
finally convince Spock to let me examine him again?"

Kirk sighed.  "He sort of…collapsed at his station."

Alarmed, McCoy nodded in acknowledgement, knowing how it must have
embarrassed Spock to have such a thing happen while on duty, with the
whole Bridge crew as an audience.

Together, they turned toward Spock, who was now lying quietly on the
examination table, and approached him quickly.  McCoy and Christine
studied the medscanner over Spock's head, worriedly watching the
indicators as they fluctuated and finally stabilized--all near the
bottom of their respective scales--and McCoy turned his attention to
Spock.  "Jim told me what happened," he revealed quietly.

Spock simply closed his eyes and remained silent.

"Did you experience any nausea or dizziness?"  McCoy asked.

"Yes…both," Spock admitted reluctantly, keeping his eyes closed.

Kirk, standing on Spock's other side, next to Christine, shot a look
at McCoy.  "What is it?"

McCoy looked up at him.  "This blasted stubborn Vulcan has acquired
the worst case of anorexia I've ever seen in all my years as a
doctor!" he snapped, unintentionally taking out his frustration and
concern for Spock on Kirk.  Regaining his composure, he turned back
to
Spock.  "Just how long has it been since you last ate?"

Finally opening his eyes, Spock hesitated--and McCoy wasn't sure if
that was because the Vulcan just didn't want to tell him, or because
Spock himself had lost track.  "A little over six weeks," he answered,
at last.

Kirk and McCoy exchanged horrified looks, though neither was really
surprised.  "What about sleep?"  McCoy asked again.  "Have you managed
to get any during all that time?"

"Essentially, no," Spock confessed slowly, "though I have tried
frequently…the Captain will attest to that.  I seem to be able to
remain asleep for only brief periods at a time."

McCoy sighed in exasperation.  "Spock, *listen* to me," he pleaded
urgently.  "What you felt on the Bridge was a warning: you are on the
verge of a total collapse.  Now, either you start getting some food in
you *today*, or *I'll* haul you back down here and have you fed
intravenously."  He paused for effect.  "Do I make myself clear?"

Spock's only visible reaction to this was a raised eyebrow.  "Quite
clear, Doctor.  May I go, now?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

They watched worriedly as Spock sat up, swung his legs over the side
of the table and slid carefully off of it.  Christine, seeing that
Spock still looked as if he might lose his balance and fall, followed
him hesitantly at a distance.

With Spock ostensibly gone, McCoy turned back to Kirk unrepentantly.
"I suppose now you're going to try to tell me that my refusal to go
along with Spock's decision has something to do with his condition."

"Do you have a better explanation?"  Kirk demanded.

McCoy bowed his head, shaking it silently.

Kirk came around to his side of the table.  "Bones, look…nobody's
asking you to *agree* with him.  *I* don't agree with him.  Just
accept his decision and let him know you won't make him miserable
during the time he has left with us."

McCoy looked up at him, sighing.  "Jim, if *you* want to support Spock
in this, it's fine with me; I know how much it means to him to have
your acceptance and encouragement.  But don't ask me to do the same.
We've been over and over this.  I can't, Jim--I just can't."

Seeing how adamant McCoy was in his refusal to give even an inch, Kirk
was rapidly losing patience.  "Why in God's name not?"

"Because I refuse to encourage him in something he knows as well as I
do is wrong," McCoy insisted, for what must have been the thousandth
time.

"I told you when all this started that it was *his* decision to make,
not yours and not mine," Kirk reminded him tightly, feeling anger
building within him.  "We have to believe that Spock knows what's best
for himself better than we do.  If he's decided that trying to attain
Kolinahr is the right thing to do, it's not our place to keep arguing
about it."

McCoy stared at him in astonishment.  "That's the most idiotic bunch
of Vulcan propaganda I've ever heard, and *you* don't believe it any
more than I do!" he countered irritably.  "How can he 'know what's
best' for himself when all he's really doing is running away from his
emotions and his Human half?  He admitted it, himself--you heard him!
He agreed that it was his own insecurity that was making him do this!"

Kirk's expression hardened and he lost the battle with his temper.
"McCoy, Spock wants acceptance and support from *both* of us--not just
me.  Are you willing to go tell him to his face that you'll never give
it, knowing full well how much it's going to hurt him?"

Finally, McCoy's own sense of anger and betrayal exploded.
"Dammit, what about how *he's* hurting *us*?  *You*, especially, Jim--
after all the Hell he's put you through, how can you go placidly and
happily along with all this Kolinahr garbage, knowing he's deserting
you, Starfleet and the entire Human race, all in one fell swoop?"

"I don't see that either of us have a choice," Kirk admitted bitterly.

Christine had stayed for most of the argument, but she left now, not
bothering to stay long enough to hear the resolution that failed to
resolve anything.  She alone had noticed Spock lingering just inside
the door, listening to the argument in growing agony and uncertain
whether to intervene or not, until he could bear it no longer and
turned away, fleeing Sickbay.

She decided to go to him now, not knowing if it was the right thing to
do or if he would even allow her to see him--knowing only that she had
to do something.  If she couldn't comfort him, maybe she could at
least get him to eat.

It was with some trepidation, therefore, that she advanced down a
corridor toward Spock's quarters a few minutes later, carrying a tray
bearing a Vulcan delicacy known as plomik soup.  Christine remembered
all too vividly the first time she had tried this and could only hope
she wasn't repeating a mistake; she had no real idea of what Spock's
emotional and mental state was just now.  But she knew he would
remember her promise of support and hoped he would be comforted by it,
now that Kirk's and McCoy's was in question.

******

Spock sat alone now at his desk, head bowed and eyes closed, almost
shaking with the effort it was costing him to control the conflicting
emotions within him.  Jim and McCoy were at war with each other, and
all because of him.  Yes, the illogical hope and desire that they
would both agree with his decision and approve had persisted and grown
within him in spite of all he could do to suppress it--but what hurt
worse than the realization that this could never be was the fact that
his own emotionalism was responsible for the argument.

Briefly, Spock regretted telling them of his intentions at all…but
there had been no choice.  It was logical for them to know--after all,
as he had realized at the outset, they had the right.  And Jim had
known (as Spock had expected him to) without Spock having to tell him
that the Vulcan also had an emotional desire to share it with them and
have their help and support.  This was something Spock had long ago
gotten used to: Jim Kirk's apparently unfailing ability to see through
his logical explanations of emotionally motivated words and actions.
It had been unsettling, at first…but as time passed, it had gradually
become comforting to know that there was at least one being in the
universe for whom it wasn't absolutely necessary that Spock hide
behind Vulcan logic.

Spock had never felt quite as sure with McCoy; the Doctor spent too
much time scouting for emotional weakness in an effort to get him to
express his feelings.  Spock understood his reasons for this and knew
he meant well; McCoy cared about him, in his own way, as much as Kirk
did, and wanted to see the Vulcan resolve his inner conflict by giving
his Human half a little more freedom to express itself.  Spock knew,
in fact, that Kirk felt the same way--but he seemed willing to wait
for Spock to decide this on his own.  Rather than pressure him to
change in this way, Jim was willing to accept him as he was now--
Vulcan half and all--without making any conscious attempt to change
him; it was this, as much as anything else, that made him feel closer
to Jim emotionally and more willing to confide in Jim than in McCoy.

But both were his friends.  And now they were fighting each other over
him.  Spock had no idea what to do, or whether he should do anything
at all.  Perhaps he should just wait; surely they would soon begin to
regret their irrational behavior and apologize to each other.  If not…

Spock's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his door buzzer.
"Come," he said automatically, not caring who it was.

Christine entered, carrying a food tray, and walked up to within three
or four feet of Spock's desk.  The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at her at
her questioningly; she drew a deep breath and plunged ahead.  "Uh…
Spock…you need to eat.  I thought you might like some plomik soup,"
she explained.

Spock sat up slowly, grateful for the distraction, and Christine set
the tray down in front of him, then went back around to the other side
of the desk and stood quietly, watching the Vulcan anxiously and
waiting.  Spock noticed it and paused before starting to eat, looking
up at her.  "There is no reason to be uneasy, Miss Chapel…I promise I
will not throw it at you, this time."

Christine looked at him and did a double-take, uncertain if she had
heard him correctly.  Had Spock just made a *joke*--and a *pon farr*
joke, at that?  Apparently he had; both eyebrows rose and disappeared
into his hair as he returned her gaze, waiting for her to react.  Only
then did she realize the tension that must have been building within
Spock, so much tension that he was finally looking for a way to
release it.  Seemingly, this was the least emotional outlet he could
find.

Finally, Christine laughed softly.  Spock had never heard her laugh
before, but decided it was a pleasant sound; laughter of this kind was
among the least offensive of the Human emotional responses he had been
exposed to, and he considered it within the realm of possibility that
he might miss it after he returned to Vulcan--at least, until he
attained Kolinahr.  Spock responded at last with a small smile of his
own before returning to his food.

A silence fell between them as Spock ate, and Christine waited
patiently for him to finish.  When his bowl was about half empty,
Spock sat back in his chair with a soft sigh, looking suddenly very
pale.  Christine stepped forward anxiously.  "Spock?"

"I cannot…eat any more," he explained quietly.

"Nausea?" she guessed.

Spock nodded silently, bowing his head.

"That's to be expected.  You'll have to take your food a little at a
time," Christine told him understandingly, picking up his tray and
heading for the door.  Spock got up also, moving slowly and carefully
around the partition toward his bed; suddenly overcome by a wave of
dizziness, he grabbed the edge of the partition for support.

He then glanced back at Christine; she had stopped halfway between the
door and the desk and was standing there with the tray in her hands,
watching him with growing concern but uncertain whether or not to
offer him any assistance.  "Nurse," Spock called softly, "if you
please…"

Christine hastily set the tray back down on the desk and went to his
side, offering him her arm, which he took, and guiding him carefully
over to his bed.  Spock sank down onto the bed, sitting on one knee
and looking uncertainly back up at her, becoming increasingly aware of
his need for someone to talk to about Jim and McCoy's argument;
Christine sensed this somehow and asked quietly, "Would you like me to
stay?"

It was not the first time Spock had been grateful for the partial
mental bond that had existed between them since their brief sharing of
consciousnesses a few minutes ago.  "I…should not keep you from your
duties," he replied hesitantly, more to scold himself than to answer
Christine.

"I think my only important duty right now is to you…if you want me to
stay, that is," Christine assured him kindly.

Spock's eyes met hers, eyes filled with both appreciation and
entreaty, covering the deeper agony of the inner turmoil he was still
fighting to keep under control.  "Then…if you have no objections, I…I
would appreciate your company," he admitted finally, feeling
inexplicably relieved.

Christine sat on the bed beside him, sighing, watching the Vulcan bow
his head and knowing how hard it would be for him to begin.  She
decided to save him the trouble.  "You're worried about the Captain
and Dr. McCoy, aren't you?"

Spock nodded, folding his arms across his chest and looking back up at
her.  "I suppose I will never fully understand Humans.  Why was such
an argument necessary?"

"Because of a Human trait you should be familiar with by now:
stubbornness," Christine explained, mildly amused for some reason she
wasn't sure of.  "The Captain wouldn't let up and Dr. McCoy wouldn't
give in."

Spock folded his hands in his lap.  "Illogical.  But not entirely
unexpected," he decided.  "I take it, then, that the Doctor is still
refusing to accept my decision?"

"So it seems," Christine replied.

Spock bowed his head again and was silent for some time.  When he
finally spoke again, Christine could barely hear him: "Regrettable.  I
had hoped…that both he and the Captain would…" the rest was completely
inaudible.

Christine waited, but Spock did not continue.  He did not dare, nor
could he look up; his wall of Vulcan logic and emotional control was
crumbling, overwhelmed by the intensity of the combination of powerful
emotions which he no longer seemed to have the strength to suppress:
frustration, disappointment, anger (mainly at himself), doubt, and
above all an overwhelming sense of abandonment--a loneliness deeper,
stronger and more painful than any he had ever experienced before.  He
felt a burning sensation behind his eyes and closed them tightly, but
it did not go away.

Christine watched him in growing alarm, knowing he was having trouble
controlling his emotions and knowing also that he usually preferred to
be alone at such times.  "Spock…do you want me to leave?"

"No," Spock whispered.  "I do not wish to be left alone, now.  Please…
stay with me."

"I will," Christine promised gently, though what it was she could do
for him was unclear.

Spock was almost too confused by all the emotions now raging freely
within him to know what to do, himself.  Then he thought of Jim…Jim
would know how to help him, and Spock knew his Human friend would not
hesitate to come if he knew Spock needed him.  He reached out to Jim
with his mind…

******

Kirk was on the Bridge, mentally kicking himself for allowing the
dispute with McCoy to go this far.  He didn't seem to have
accomplished anything, other than setting them at each other's
throats--now, of all times, when Spock needed them most.  Well, Kirk
decided, enough was enough; no more fighting.  He would simply go down
to Sickbay and tell McCoy how it was going to be.  He couldn't order
McCoy to accept Spock's decision, but he *could* damn well order McCoy
to at least be civil to the Vulcan and stop avoiding him--since that
seemed to be the only option left to him.  That, and an apology, which
he would gladly make.

Kirk's thoughts were interrupted by something he mistook at first for
Spock's voice: //Jim!  Jim, help me…//

No, not his voice, Kirk realized abruptly, his thoughts--a frightened,
confused telepathic cry from his Vulcan friend's mind.  Frightened?
*Spock*, afraid?  And confused?  Kirk immediately contacted Sickbay.

"Sickbay.  McCoy here."

"Bones, don't ask any questions.  Just meet me at Spock's quarters,"
Kirk ordered.

"What's--?  All right, Jim…I'll be there," came the startled reply.

END PART 4

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