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Spock looks up as his door chimes. “It’s me, Spock,” Bones says through the door. “Doctor McCoy.”
“Computer, pause reading,” Spock says. “Enter.”
The door opens, and Spock hears Bones’ footsteps as he enters his quarters. “How are you today, Spock?”
“My condition is unchanged,” Spock reports.
“Fine.” He can hear Bones huff quietly as he opens his medical bag. “I suppose you’d prefer we get this over with, then.”
Spock sits quietly as Bones goes through his usual examination, including scanning him with a tricorder and checking his vital signs. As usual, he concludes with several tests that Spock suspects are utterly irrelevant to his condition, including checking his reflexes. The results must be unremarkable, because the doctor says nothing.
Finally, he can feel the doctor leaning over him. “Keep your eyes open,” he says. “I’m going to check your pupilary response.”
Spock does as he’s told. He hears the light click on and flinches.
“Did that hurt?”
“No,” Spock quickly assures him. “No, it did not.” He blinks a few times, processing what he just experienced. “Please do that again.”
“Okay.” Bones sounds confused.
Spock registers the change. Something must show on his face, because Bones quickly turns off the light. “Spock…did you see that?”
“I believe so, doctor.”
“Computer, lights to one hundred percent,” the doctor orders. Spock feels the air moving in front of his face. “Can you see my hand?”
Spock shakes his head. “I can perceive the change in lighting, but nothing more.”
Bones grabs his hand and pulls him out of his chair. “Come on, I’m taking you to Sickbay.”
~
Dr. McCoy is setting up equipment when Sickbay’s doors open. “Spock!” He immediately recognizes the voice of the captain. “I heard the news! You - you can see again?”
“Negative, captain,” Spock replies. “I can perceive light, but nothing else.”
“Oh.” Spock tries not to dwell on his mental image of the captain’s disappointed expression. “Well, that’s still something, isn’t it? It means that you’re getting better?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“What he means is that you have to let me run my tests, Jim,” Bones interjects. “How did you even know Spock was in Sickbay?”
“I have my ways,” Kirk replies.
“Well, keep those ways out of my way,” Bones retorts. He grabs Spock’s hand and tugs him towards a machine for another exam. “Come on, Spock.”
Spock spends most of the rest of the afternoon in Sickbay, undergoing a seemingly endless series of tests on his vision. When he’s done, he can hear the doctor sit next to him and sigh. “Well, it looks like you were right. You have light perception, which you didn’t have when this all started.”
“I understand. Thank you, doctor.”
“I know this might not seem like a lot, but it’s good news, Spock. I don’t know exactly what’s going on inside those Vulcan eyes of yours, but you’re healing,” Bones says. “You’re going to be okay.”
“When do you believe my vision will return to a suitable level for me to resume my duties?” Spock asks.
“We’ll have to see how you continue to improve. But with any luck, you can start working again in a few weeks.”
~
So Spock has an eye exam every day for the next two weeks. And every day, his vision improves a little bit more. On the third day, he can identify the direction of a light. By the fifth, he can perceive the movement of Dr. McCoy’s hand when he waves it in front of him. Into the second week, he starts being able to identify shapes again and is even able to recognize a Jim-shaped blob when he walks into Sickbay, much to everyone else's delight.
And then his progress just…stops. Three days go by with no change in Spock’s vision, then a week. Bones makes Spock spend entire days in Sickbay, running test after test. When that yields no explanation for his stagnation, Bones makes Scotty spend hours checking over his medical equipment. Again, he comes up with nothing. Jim even diverts Enterprise to a nearby starbase with a larger medical facility to run more tests on Spock’s eyesight. The results are the same. His progress has plateaued.
So Bones sends out Spock’s medical records to several specialists, all of whom review his case and come to the same conclusion. Spock’s vision is unlikely to improve much further. A couple suggest possible medical interventions, and Bones tries every single one of them, but nothing comes from any of it.
“Don’t worry,” Bones tells him every day, although Spock knows that he’s the one who’s more worried. “We’ll figure this out.”
In his free time in between Bones’ check-ins, Spock starts to explore the possibility of returning to duty as a visually impaired officer. He’s already familiar with some of the adaptive techniques used by blind Aenar, but many are not useful to him due to his lack of antennae. However, he learns of a number of strategies employed by humans and other non-telepathic species. Spock discovers that strategically placing sources of light around his room helps him to orient himself, and that a program on his PADD can be used to identify colors and objects.
He even starts to learn a tactile reading system, much to the doctor’s irritation when he finds out. “You shouldn’t be worrying about that sort of stuff, Spock,” he chastises as he checks Spock’s vitals and refuses yet again to scale down the frequency of their checkups. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great for people who need it, but your vision will be back any day now. Just give me a little more time.” Spock politely nods, then continues to practice his reading when Bones is gone.
Still, even with his adaptations, Spock is constantly confronted by his limitations. He learns how to use Enterprise’s internal sensors to help him navigate, but finds the auditory cues difficult to use in noisy environments and completely useless in helping him avoid hitting his head on open Jeffries tube doors. He figures out how to carry his own tray in the mess hall, but can only eat during non-peak hours lest he trip over an unexpected chair or crewmember and drop his tray. When he stops by the xenobiology lab for the first time since his vision loss, he almost immediately knocks over an experiment and has to be guided around by a subordinate for the rest of the visit. Two months after Deneva, Spock estimates that he can perform approximately fifteen percent of the duties required of a chief science officer and less than eight percent of the duties of a first officer. Furthermore, like his vision, his progress in gaining skills has stagnated. This is unacceptable.
So Spock researches rehabilitation options and finds a number of facilities all across the quadrant that specialize in vision loss. He calls one, a small program on Earth that works with a variety of alien races, and is quickly connected with a human Starfleet officer who he finds out is totally blind and a graduate of the program. Spock spends most of an afternoon listening to her describe her experiences in detail. Apparently, her rehabilitation had been so extensive that she had recently taken a three-week solo trip to Vulcan, requiring only minimal assistance to navigate the unfamiliar planet. When the call ends, Spock begins filling out an application to the program.
He discusses it with Jim first. The captain is hesitant, but he eventually yields to Spock’s reasoning. “I suppose it could be helpful for you to learn from a specialist,” he admits. “But I don’t want you to leave.”
Bones, unsurprisingly, refuses to even entertain the idea of letting Spock leave. “What if you get your vision back right after we leave? You won’t be able to re-join us for weeks, maybe even months Or what if we find a cure and can’t get it to you because you’re so far away?” he asks. “Besides, it’s not like you’re fully blind. You can still see a lot, it’s just not as much as you used to. Right?”
Spock nods, ignoring the throbbing in his temple where he collided with the door of an open Jeffries tube earlier that morning. “Right.”
So Spock doesn’t send in his application for the rehabilitation program and he stays on Enterprise. He shuffles through the corridors to avoid tripping and sits through meetings he can’t understand without being able to read the relevant materials. And he allows Bones to put him through increasingly more desperate and useless medical procedures, even though they leave him sick more often than not.
~
A month later later, the captain calls an emergency evacuation of the ship. Spock does his best to get to the shuttle bay, but he’s still making his way through the halls when the final escape pod launches. It’s only through sheer luck that it turns out to be a false alarm and Spock survives the experience unscathed.
Jim comes to his quarters that night. “I think it’s time for you to go to that rehab program,” he says as he sits on Spock’s bed. “I know Bones doesn’t want to admit it, and none of us want you to leave, but I think you have to. I’d rather lose you to the training program for a few months than, well…forever.”
Spock agrees, and within a few days, he is preparing to leave Enterprise. Uhura helps him pack up most of his belongings, although he has to leave a few of his possessions behind. Despite his protestations, Jim insists on keeping Spock’s quarters reserved for him even as Scotty takes over as first officer. Throughout this whole period, Bones refuses to speak to either of them.
Finally, the day comes. Jim walks him to the turbolift and prepares to transport him onto Yorktown. “I’m glad that you’re doing this, Spock,” he says as he leads him onto the platform. “But don’t stay longer than you have to. We need you here.”
“Understood, captain,” Spock replies. “I will endeavour to return as soon as possible.”
Jim chuckles. “We’ll miss you.” He squeezes his shoulder. “Ready to energize?”
“Wait!” It’s Bones’ voice. “Hang on, Spock.”
Jim steps off the platform. “I’ll be outside. Let me know when you’re ready.”
The door closes. “Doctor,” Spock says. “If you have come to try to convince me to remain on Enterprise—”
“No,” Bones interrupts. “No, I’m not going to do that, Spock. I mean, I’m still not thrilled that you’re leaving, but maybe you and Jim are right and this’ll do you some good. The last thing I want is to hold you back, you know.”
Spock nods. “Thank you.” He hesitates. “And I hope you will not consider my departure to be a failure on your part as a physician. Despite our differences, I have always found you to be…more than capable.”
Bones scoffs. “Well, that’s high praise if I’ve ever heard it.” His voice softens. “Thank you, Spock.”
“You are welcome, doctor.”
They stand in silence for a moment. “I also got you a going-away present.” Bones presses a box into Spock’s hands. “It’s a tactile chess set. You can feel the squares with your fingers and there are magnets to keep the pieces in place. Maybe when you get back, you can show me how to play?”
“I believe I would enjoy that,” Spock admits.
Bones sniffs. “Well, I guess I’ll let Jim back in. Keep in touch, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.”
Jim returns. “Alright, are you ready to go, Spock?”
“I believe I am, captain.”
“Okay. Energize.”