"Is everyone alright?" Jim called out to the away team, who were scattered across the small clearing, hidden behind rocks and trees.
The fire fight hadn't lasted long, and as Jim counted the heads that slowly popped up from cover, it became clear that there had also been no fatalities, which was a relief.
The problem with first contact scenarios was that they sometimes didn't go as planned. Despite the fact that the away team was dressed in the clothing of the planet's locals, they had instantly been clocked as outsiders by the patrol they encountered outside the city they had beamed down outside of. The patrol had no interest in knowing who they were or what their intentions were, they had just started shooting with their flintlock rifles. The away team had no choice but to fire back—phasers on stun, of course. After a few of the patrol members fell, the others had retreated, fleeing for the city—no doubt to call for reinforcements.
As the away team gathered around Jim, he assessed each one of them in turn. "Everyone okay? Spock? Uhura? Johnson? Liu?"
Everyone nodded sharply as their names were called, still stunned by the encounter.
Nyota, breathing hard from the struggle, asked, "What about you, Captain?"
"I'm fine," Jim said. "But clearly this mission is a bust. I say we call for beam up before that patrol returns with backup."
"Agreed," Spock said. "It would be unwise to linger any longer."
Jim flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise, five to beam up."
There was a beat before Scotty's voice crackled over the comm. "Already? I just sent you down there!"
"Yeah, well, things didn't go so well," Jim answered grimly. "It's back to the drawing board for this mission."
"Alright, bringing you back up now," Scotty said.
The away team held perfectly still, waiting for the familiar sensation of having their bodies dissolved down to their base atoms.
A long moment passed, and nothing happened.
Jim frowned and spoke into his communicator again. "Scotty? You good up there?"
There was an exasperated Scottish grumble from the communicator. "I'm good, but the transporter's not. Bloody thing's broken again."
"What? But it worked just fine a few minutes ago."
"I know that," Scotty said. "I'm looking into it. Can you just hang tight for a bit?"
"Yeah, Scotty, that's fine," Jim said with a wince. "Just keep us updated, won't you?"
"Of course I will."
"Kirk out."
After snapping his communicator closed, Jim turned to the four members of his away team and gave an apologetic shrug. "I guess we'll have to hold tight," he said, as if they hadn't all been present to hear Scotty's report. "But we should probably get out of the immediate vicinity in case the cavalry shows up before Scotty fixes the transporter."
Spock removed his tricorder from where it was hidden in the folds of his robes and studied the display. "I believe there is a cavern approximately two kilometres West of here," he said, pointing up the hill behind him. "It should prove to be an adequate hiding place and potential shelter should the transporter repairs take longer than anticipated."
"Good call, Spock," Jim said. "Let's head over there. Spock, lead the way."
Armed with his tricorder, Spock gladly took up the lead. Nyota, along with Ensigns Johnson and Liu, followed close behind him, phasers in hand, just in case they were again surprised by hostile locals. Jim followed behind.
With Jim taking up the rear, Spock didn't feel the need to occasionally look over his shoulder to check on the rest of the party—he knew that Jim would keep an eye on them and call out should they need to stop for any reason. But when they reached the cavern and Spock turned to wait for everyone to gather up, he noticed that Jim was trailing further behind than he should have been.
"Are you alright, Captain?" Spock asked as Jim finally made it up the hill to join the others. He seemed out of breath, which was unusual—between their walking pace, the relatively gentle incline, and Jim's physical fitness, the walk shouldn't have taken such a toll on him.
But Jim just smiled. "Fine, Spock. This is the cave?"
"This is indeed the cavern," Spock said, deciding not to get into the difference between a cave and a cavern, at least for the time being. "Has there been any word from Mr Scott regarding the use of the transporters?"
"He hasn't said anything yet," Jim said. "I'll check in with him."
Taking the communicator out from the folds of his robes, Jim flipped it open with a flick of his wrist. Spock's keen eyes caught a slight tremble in Jim's hand, and he frowned.
"Kirk to Enterprise," Jim said. "How's it going, Scotty? Any news?"
He received a sigh in response. "Aye, Captain," Scotty said dejectedly. "But you're not gonna like it."
Jim's jovial attitude slipped. "What is it?"
"Well, as it turns out, the planet has a Durstorn-Letke field."
"Which means?"
"Which means we didn't adjust the transporters to account for it when we beamed you down, and it fried our entire system," Scotty said. "The repairs are going to be extensive."
Jim groaned. "Why weren't our transporters accounting for that... uh, field?"
"Because we didn't know it was there," Scotty admitted. "It's rare enough that our scanners aren't actually set to detect it."
"Oh. Brilliant." Jim sighed. "So, how long until you can get us out of here?"
"Well, the transporters will take about a week to fix," Scotty said. "But right now we're working on the port-side cargo bay transporter. We figure we can get that one fixed by tomorrow."
"Why would that one take less time to fix?"
"Because it was already shut down due to a different malfunction at the time of the power surge," Scotty said. "As far as we can tell, it was unaffected."
"Alright," Jim said. "It's not great, but do what you can. I'd have a shuttle pick us up but I don't want to risk the locals seeing it."
"I'll let you know the moment it's ready, Captain," Scotty said.
"I appreciate that, Scotty. Kirk out." He snapped the communicator shut and looked around at the away team. "Well, you heard the man," he said. "Looks like we're camping out for the time being."
"We should probably sit tight in the cave and save our energy, since we don't have any food or supplies," Nyota said.
"And it's not like there's any chance we'll make any progress with the mission at this point," added Johnson.
Jim nodded. "Staying put in the cave is the best idea. That patrol will probably come looking for us, so it wouldn't be a good idea to wander."
All in agreement, the five of them stepped into the cavern, and found spots to sit down. Jim dropped down quicker and more eagerly than the rest, and Spock caught him wincing slightly as he did. The flash of pain that jolted across Jim's face was brief, but it had not escaped Spock's keen eye.
Spock frowned in concern and sat down beside Jim. "Jim," Spock said quietly enough that the others couldn't hear. "You are injured."
Jim sighed in defeat. "Not in front of the others, Spock."
Spock started to protest, but was stopped short by a sharp glare from Jim. For now, he let the topic drop. He would have to wait for a moment when they were alone to grill Jim on what exactly was wrong with him. However, the odds of being alone with Jim before the transporters were working were slim, as the group was confined to this cavern together until then.
Luckily, an opportunity presented itself.
"Captain," Ensign Liu said, approaching the spot where Jim and Spock sat. "Johnson and I noticed that there's a passageway at the back of the cavern. Could we go check it out?"
"Sure," Jim said. "Just be careful that you don't fall or get stuck in there."
Liu grinned. "Thanks, Captain." He dashed off towards the back of the cavern, where Johnson was waiting for him.
Spock saw his opportunity. "Lieutenant," he called to where Nyota was sitting not too far away from them. When she looked up, Spock said, "Go with them, please, and make sure they stay out of trouble."
Nyota gave him a strange look, then looked to Jim briefly. She gave a sharp nod to Spock and got up, swiftly walking to the back of the cavern to join the two ensigns.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Spock turned to Jim. "You are injured," he said sternly. "I need to assess your injuries."
Jim waved a hand weakly. "We don't have a first aid kit," he protested. "There's nothing to be done until the transporters are fixed."
"Jim," Spock said. "Show me."
Catching Spock's gaze, Jim knew that there was no point in arguing. Spock wasn't going to let this go. So instead, he sighed in resignation. "Alright, fine. But you aren't going to like it."
Checking first to make sure Nyota and the two ensigns hadn't returned, Jim pulled aside the folds of his robes, revealing the tan shirt he wore underneath. Spock saw that a large patch of it was soaked in blood, and he sucked air through his teeth at the grisly sight.
"Don't tell the others," Jim pleaded. "I don't want them to worry."
Spock thought about protesting, but neither Nyota nor the two ensigns were in any more of a position than he was to treat Jim's wounds, and it would probably be best to not worry them with something they couldn't do anything about. He thought about calling Scotty to ask him to work quicker in repairing the transporter, but he knew that Scotty would already be working as swiftly as possible.
"Is there an exit wound?" Spock asked, knowing that whether there was or wasn't, there wasn't much he would be able to do.
"I'm not sure," Jim said. "Everything hurts so much I can't tell."
"Can I look?" Spock asked.
Jim shook his head. "Not going to lie, Spock, I don't think I can move," he said with a wince. "You can feel for an exit wound, though. I'd do it myself but my reach is limited at the moment."
Spock shifted until his knees were under himself for better manoeuvrability, and he leaned over Jim, reaching a hand around his waist. As he felt around for any sign of blood, he looked up towards the back of the cavern, not wanting to get caught in what would appear to be a compromising position.
Not finding any sign of an exit would, Spock slipped his hand out from behind Jim, and quickly checked his other side before retreating from Jim's personal space. "I believe the projectile is still in the wound," he said.
"Not ideal," Jim said, glumly.
"No," Spock agreed. He thought for a moment, then shed his robe. He instantly felt the chill of the cavern, but that didn't matter. He found a jagged piece of slate and used it to cut a hole in the robe, from which he could tear the fabric. He got to work tearing pieces of fabric from the body of the robe, piling rags to the side.
"What are you doing?" Jim asked, watching him.
"We need to do something to stop the bleeding," Spock said. "You have already lost far too much blood. You should have informed me of your injuries earlier."
"Don't scold me," Jim said weakly, closing his eyes and resting the back of his head against the uneven wall of the cavern.
Spock wanted to keep scolding him, but saw that Jim was tired, and growing weaker by the second, so instead he just kept working at ripping his robe apart.
Once he had plenty of rags, he got to work pressing them over Jim's wound. "Put your hand here, hold it tightly," Spock instructed, taking Jim's hand and placing it over the rags to keep them in place. Then, he took the remainder of his robe, which consisted of the two sleeves, connected by what was left of the back of the robe, and threaded it behind Jim. Though he was as careful as he could in manoeuvring Jim's body to get the piece around him, Jim still hissed in pain.
"My apologies," Spock said in a low voice, but he kept working. Once the tattered robe was passed behind Jim, he took the two arms and tied a tight knot, making sure the tight band was covering the rags that were packed over the wound. He pulled the band tight before allowing Jim to slip his hand out, then tightened it more.
"Are you comfortable?" Spock asked.
"As comfortable as I can be," Jim answered, sweat beginning to form on his brow.
"Can you breathe okay with the bandage this tight?" Spock asked, feeling that a clarifying question was required.
"Yeah," Jim said. "Thanks."
Voices came from the back of the cavern, signalling the return of Nyota and the ensigns. Spock quickly moved back to his position sitting with his back against the wall, and Jim pulled his robes closed to hide Spock's makeshift bandage.
Spock thought Jim's efforts to hide his injury were made in futility—it only took looking at him to tell that something was wrong. His assessment proved correct when Nyota stopped short, a look of concern washing over her face as she spotted Jim.
"What's wrong with Jim?" She asked. "Is he hurt?"
Thinking of Jim's wishes to keep the rest of the away team ignorant of his injuries, Spock considered lying, and covering for Jim. But of course, anyone could tell that Jim was hurt, and they wouldn't believe him if he tried to insist otherwise.
"Yes," Spock said, reluctantly, noting that Johnson and Liu were now standing nearby, also looking at their Captain with concern.
"But don't worry," Jim said, cracking a weak smile. "Doctor Spock here has patched me up pretty well. I might not even have to visit sickbay once we get back to the ship."
Spock wanted to tell Jim that he would absolutely need to visit sickbay once they got back to the ship, but quickly realized that he was making light of the situation to put his crew at ease. It seemed to work for the two ensigns, who had no reason to think their Captain would lie about such a thing, but Nyota seemed skeptical, and gave Spock a raised-brow look.
"He will be fine," Spock assured her, knowing that he was lying and feeling guilty about it as Nyota took his word as gospel and went to sit down.
Night was falling outside the cavern, and wanting to remain hidden, they couldn't light fires or even use flashlights for fear of their hiding place being revealed. So as the cavern darkened, everyone did the only thing there was to do—sleep.
Everyone chose a spot on the floor of the cavern, keeping their distances from one another. Their cloaks would keep them warm enough, even without the heat of a fire. Spock, however, chose a spot well within reach of Jim, just in case, and he no longer had a cloak. Even before the sun went down, the cavern was chilly. Now, he shivered in the cold of night.
Even if he wasn't freezing, Spock wouldn't have been able to sleep. He would have stayed awake anyways, watching the rise and fall of Jim's breath, making sure the movement didn't stop. A few hours into the night, Jim's breathing changed, and Spock tensed, until he realized that Jim had simply woken up.
"Jim," Spock whispered. "Are you alright?"
"I think I'm okay. Just a bit cold." He turned his head and looked at Spock, and remembered that his first officer no longer had a cloak. "You must be freezing."
Spock couldn't lie. "It is rather cold," he said, then pushed up onto his hands and knees. "I should check your bandages."
Jim didn't protest as Spock pulled away Jim's robes. It was too dark to examine the bandages, so Spock had to operate by touch. He was relieved to find that the bandages were still in place, but dismayed to find that they were damp. When he brought his hand away, the darkness on his fingers confirmed his fears that blood had soaked through.
"How am I doing, doc?" Jim asked. He was trying to be cheery, but his voice was a rasp.
Spock hesitated for a moment. "You're doing fine," he lied. "The bandages are holding up." He replaced Jim's robes, making sure they were snug around him.
"Sorry I took your robes," Jim said.
"You didn't take my robes," Spock told him. "I'm the one who tore them up and used them to pack your wounds."
"Still," Jim said tiredly. He was breathing heavily, as if the effort of speaking was draining him. "Sleep with me," he said drowsily.
"Pardon?"
"It'll be warmer for both of us," Jim clarified, "if we share body heat."
Spock paused for a brief moment, then gave in. "Alright," he said. He couldn't say no to not being absolutely freezing until morning, and he would even have the luxury of closing his eyes, as he would be able to monitor Jim's breathing by touch.
He laid down beside Jim, curling into him. It wasn't much warmer than sleeping by himself, but it gave him greater peace of mind—so much so that he fell asleep.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep—he wanted to keep an eye on Jim all night—so when he woke up to sunlight streaming into the cavern, he felt a surge of panic. He sat bolt upright, and looked down at Jim, terrified that he would be still and ashen. Jim was horrifically pale, but he was still breathing, and Spock could feel Jim's hand in his own, still warm, though perhaps not as warm as it should be.
"Jim," Spock said quietly.
Jim didn't stir.
Spock removed his hand from Jim's and shook Jim lightly by the shoulder. "Jim, wake up," he said, a little louder.
"Is everything okay?" Came Nyota's voice from nearby.
"Jim isn't waking up," Spock said, unable to keep the panic from his voice.
There was a shuffle of fabric as Nyota got up and hurried over, kneeling on the other side of Jim. "He's still breathing," she said, relieved. But her relief was short lived. As Spock shook Jim by the shoulder, Jim's robe slipped, revealing the bandaged wound below. Nyota could see that the bandages were wet with blood.
"Oh, Stars," Nyota hissed. "He was shot. I knew it. Why didn't you say anything?"
"He didn't want to worry you," Spock said.
"Well, I'm worried now," she said, and dug around in Jim's robes, eventually procuring his communicator. "I'm calling Scotty. If he's not done fixing that transporter I'm having them send a shuttle to come and get us, Prime Directive be damned."
"I won't try to stop you," Spock said, not taking his eyes off of Jim's pale, unconscious face.
Nyota hurried out of the cavern to talk to Scotty, and Spock didn't hear a word of it. Not because Nyota was too far away, but because blood was rushing in his ears as his mind rushed through the scenario in which Jim Kirk died.
Nyota came back soon after. "He said to give him fifteen more minutes, and if it isn't fixed by then, they'll send a shuttle."
Fifteen minutes seemed too long, but there was nothing to be done about it, so Spock only nodded.
Now the ensigns had awoken from the noise of them talking, and quickly noticed Jim's state.
"What's wrong with the Captain?" Ensign Liu asked.
"He's lost a lot of blood," Spock answered. "But he'll be okay. We'll return to the Enterprise in time for him to be treated." His assurance was more for himself than for the two concerned ensigns.
When the communicator in Nyota's hands crackled to life again, everyone, aside from Jim, of course, snapped to attention, eager to hear the news from Scotty.
"Good news, folks, we've got the transporter up and running!"
There was a cheer from the two ensigns, and Nyota let out of sigh of relief. Spock knew that this didn't mean that Jim was out of the woods yet, so while he felt relieved that medical attention was imminent, he didn't otherwise react to the news about the transporter's status.
"Wells for Stars' sake, Scotty, get us out of here!" Nyota said into the communicator. "Five to beam up—and have a medical team on their way to pick up Jim."
The familiar swirl of the transporter's particle beam engulfed them, whisking them off the planet and bringing them back to the Enterprise. Spock looked around the transporter room to see that they had beaten the medical team there, and waited impatiently for them to arrive. In the meantime, he dismissed Nyota and the ensigns—after a night roughing it without supplies, they were likely hungry and in need of a shower.
It didn't take long for Bones, Nurse Chapel, and another orderly to come rushing in with a crash cart.
"What happened to him this time?" Bones asked Spock as he quickly swept over to Jim's unconscious body, medical tricorder in hand.
Spock explained Jim's injuries in as concise a manner as he could. Despite his brevity, by the time he had finished, the medical team already had Jim on the crash cart, and they swept out of the room.
Spock sighed and got to his feet. He looked to Scotty who was standing in the room, looking somewhat awkward, as if he wasn't sure if he should say something or not.
Taking the onus of breaking the silence off Scotty, Spock nodded at him. "Thank you for finding a solution to the transporter problem. Your quick work is commendable."
Scotty relaxed. "Just doing my job."
Spock noticed that Scotty had bags under his eyes, and was looking rather unkempt. "I take it you have not slept."
"No, sir," Scotty shook his head. "I didn't want to delegate the task. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself."
"Indeed," Spock said. "You are dismissed from your duties for the rest of the day. Get some rest."
"Oh. Thank you," Scotty said, a little surprised, but grateful nonetheless.
The two of them left the transporter room, and from there went their separate ways. Scotty went to his quarters, and Spock went to sickbay, where he waited outside for any news of Jim.
After a few hours, the door to sickbay opened, and Bones stepped out. "I thought you'd be out here," he said, seeing Spock sitting on the floor across the corridor.
"Is Jim—"
"He's going to be fine, Spock," Bones rushed to assure him. "He had quite a few bleeders, but we got him all patched up. He's awake now, if you want to see him."
"Thank you," Spock said, finally allowing himself to feel relief. He stood, and followed Bones back into sickbay, and was lead to a back corner of the room where a bio-bed was cordoned off with curtains.
Bones pushed one of the curtains aside. "You have a visitor," he said to Jim.
Spock slipped into the little makeshift room, and deposited himself in a chair at Jim's bedside. "Jim," he said. "How are you feeling?"
Jim smiled weakly at him. His skin was still pale, and his eyes appeared a bit gaunt. "I feel fine, Spock," he said.
Spock scowled at him. "I do not appreciate you lying to me, Jim."
"Sorry," Jim sighed, the smile dropping from his face. "You know I don't like to make people worry."
"Waiting so long to treat your wounds caused a significant more amount of worry," Spock pointed out.
Jim winced. "Sorry."
"It's alright," Spock assured him. Because it was alright, or at least, it was now.
"How's the rest of the away team?"
"They are fine," Spock said. "I dismissed them to their quarters for showers and rest. I also dismissed Mr Scott from duties today, as he stayed up all night repairing the transporter."
"Good, good," Jim said, nodding. "And how are you doing?"
"Better, now," Spock said. "I admit that you had me very worried."
"Sorry," Jim said again.
Spock shook his head. "Apologies are unnecessary. But in the future, please tell me if you've been shot."
This sparked a laugh, but is was short lived as his face quickly contorted in pain. "Don't make me laugh."
"So long as we have a deal."
"We have a deal," Jim said. "But hopefully, in the future, I won't get shot in the first place."
"Ideally."
Jim looked up at Spock and examined his face for a moment. "Thanks for taking care of me out there."
"Of course. You would do the same for me."
"Of course," Jim said. He closed his eyes, exhaustion taking over him. As he drifted off, a faint smile appeared on his face.