[Sickbay] -- [Open to All!]

[kirktastic]

The room he had been put into was dimly lit and stifling. The dim lighting was highly preferred to the brilliant white of sickbay proper, but it felt like it was closing in on him. Thanks to Spock, or so he was fairly sure he had told his request to, the drugs keeping his brain from functioning had been taken away or at least decreased severely

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[just_uhura]

Nyota hated sickbay. Despite that fact that so many of her friends worked there, she avoided it as best she could. Being left as the senior officer on the Bridge simply gave her an excuse to stay away, to assure herself that she was doing her job, doing what he would have wanted. Protect his ship and his crew.

Still, as she hovered in the doorway, looking over at Kirk, she couldn't help but feel a wave of undeniable guilt that it had taken her this long to work up the courage to visit. Her mind ran through all kinds of things to say. How was she supposed to react? Should she fall into their easy routine of banter and provocation, what they knew? Or should she treat him exactly how he looked; broken and bruised, and utterly exhausted

[just_uhura]

It took her a moment and a few deep breaths to rein herself back, and she used the time to justify that it was alright because she wasn't crying for her. To grieve for another seemed less of a personal weakness and more empathetic. Still, she didn't turn back to face him until she was sure that she could look at him without lowering her guard again. This was the first time that she felt like she was Nyota around him, instead of Uhura, the only part she let him see. She didn't hate it like she thought she would, but she wasn't sure she was ready to try again so soon.

Reading what he had wrote, she gave him a look somewhere between wonder and exasperation. Not that she would expect anything less from the Captain, but it frustrated her, he frustrated her. Yet she appreciated the sentiment, the solid ground he had put them back on

[kirktastic]

It was a small step between two people, but a large step between the both of them. She got to see the side of him he rarely showed people - sweet, caring, surprisingly gentle - and he the rare side of her - caring, tears, affection.

He offered her a small grin. She had no idea how much better he felt thanks to her visit after the one from Jim. So, teasing, he took the padd, wrote something quickly, and turned it around.

Still haven't forgotten that kiss you owe me. I expect it when I get out of here.

[just_uhura]

Nyota withdrew her hand, smoothing her palms down the front of her uniform to straighten it out. It was an unconscious gesture, the shift back into Lieutenant Uhura.

As she read what he wrote, she let out a bright laugh, giving an unbelieving shake of her head. At least she knew that he was going to be alright. "Then you better get out of here fast," she replied, flashing him a bright smile.

With one last brief touch to his arm and a stern suggestion that he get some rest, she turned to leave. Her eyes faltered on George for a moment, a tiny frown crossing her features. If there was ever a time she would wish for a miracle, it would be now. "James," she spoke up as she reached the door, tilting her head back toward him. "You can call me Nyota. Sometimes."

Flashing him one last smile, she nodded her goodbyes and left.

[kirktastic]

Nyota.

Spock, take good care of her.

Kirk slowly worked himself so he was laying down fully again, putting the padd aside after erasing his last message. The last day or so had a fuzzy edge to it going quickly into the darkness of not remembering.

...Do you want him to live, too? He thought at Uhura--Nyota's--back. Or do you want Nero dead as well?

Would he be alone in his choice?

Kirk listened to his father's slow heartbeat.

Unless George woke up (had to fucking wake up, had to), maybe he would be.