Fic: Compeer, Chapter 2

[elliewood]

Chapter 2

The landscape is different this time -- still dark but not pitch black; instead of silence, the roar of continuous wind fills his ears.  A vicious, snow-saturated wind that makes the ever-present chill even more numbing.  He steels himself against the blasts of wet frigid air and calls out into the darkness.

//Captain, it is Spock.  I have returned.  Please respond.//

The storm weakens slightly, allowing his sensitive ears to detect a slight groan beneath the wind’s roar.  He turns toward the sound and spots a dangerously pale figure a few meters away on the ground, curled into a ball, shivering uncontrollably as the snow whips about it.

Kirk.

He moves to the huddled form and easily lifts him off the ground, cradling him in his arms.  Kirk’s eyes are screwed shut against the wind, his arms wrapped around his own chest,his hair matted into crust with snow. Shivers wrack his entire body.

//Captain, can you hear me?//

No response.

//Captain, please listen to me.  Envision a situation where you feel secure or comfortable.  I will be able to shelter you there if you create such an image in your mind.//

Still no indication from Kirk that his words have been heard, but over his shoulder, he senses a piercing of the blackness.  He turns, still holding Kirk in his arms, to see a structure, apparently a dwelling, about fifty meters away.  Its pointed roof is covered in snow, but smoke swirls from a central chimney, and its glass windows pour light onto the snowy field around it.

Warm.

He pushes through the biting wind toward the home’s invitation, his captain light and icy in his arms.

 

***

 

“Dr. Marcus, be prepared to reverse the cryogenic sequence.  We’re almost set to go here.”

Carol Marcus glances at the apparatus that is drawing blood from the unconscious Khan and partitioning his serum in a holding chamber.

“Doctor, at what point do you plan to start the transfusion?”

McCoy closes his eyes momentarily and rubs his forehead.  “Honestly, I don’t know.  My best guess is that we bring his heart rate up a bit and his body temp up to around 10, then push the serum bolus to regenerate his vasculature. Then once we get him up to 30 or so, we’ll start the dextrose I.V. drip, and if that goes well, we go all the way to 36 or 37 and start the transfusion.  Then we’ll see what we’ll see.”  He looks down at Kirk’s body on the biobed, then up at the bed’s display.  Doubt just small enough to remain unacknowledged was curling languidly at the base of his brain.  “Heart rate, two bpm...respiration, one...temp, three degrees.  Looks good, I guess.”

Marcus selects an empty hypospray from the instrument tray and withdraws some of the golden serum into it, then places it back on the table within McCoy's reach.  His eyes drop to it; otherwise, he is motionless.  She waits.  McCoy remains still.

“Doctor, we’re ready to begin on your mark.”  Her crispness an attempt to reverse McCoy’s hesitation.  He shakes his head.

gotta work can't not work can't fuck this up oh god Jim why the fuck did you do it why are you making me do this you stupid son of a BITCH

“Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”

I Do Solemnly Vow, to That Which I Hold Most Dear...

Marcus enters the code on the cryotube’s keypad and the biobed sensors spring to life.  “Body temperature rising, Doctor... four degrees..."

do you ever even THINK about anyone else other than yourself and your goddamned hero complex

McCoy sighs, grimaces, and grinds the heels of his hands into his smarting eyes...

...That I Will Not Withdraw From My Patients in Their Time of Need...

"Five degrees...”

...then blinks down at Spock, seated next to the biobed with eyes closed, his face the picture of calm...

"Six degrees..."

and I'm just supposed to pick up the pieces and put you back together again and again

...the fingers of his right hand spread across the meld points on Kirk’s left jaw, cheek, and forehead.

"Seven..."

...That I Will Maintain This Sacred Trust...

He checks the sensors, again, and sighs, again.  His gut is rolling.

how long do you think I'll keep doing this for you you idiot FUCK

"Eight degrees, Doctor..."

He picks up the hypospray.

i will never let you do this to me again you self-centered asshole never never never do you fucking hear me

"Nine..."

He positions the hypo against Kirk's cold neck with a nerveless but steady hand.

...I Make This Vow Freely and Upon My Honor.

can't not work please god please

And depresses the trigger.

 

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