Work Text:
Trapped
By kira-nerys
MCCOY
I can't believe this.
How can they be so god damned careless?
This is my sickbay for crying out loud!
Do I have to put up a sign saying
*Doctor is in*
I'm trapped in this wretched room unless I want to interrupt them.
And I'll be damned if I do that.
That might force them off the path they've chosen.
I can't do that.
So I stay, even though I can hear every word they're saying.
I can hear every word of this most private of conversations.
"Spock," he whispers to the sleeping man at the bunk.
"Spock, wake up."
"Jim," the deeper, huskier voice responds.
It's made darker by sleep.
"Spock," Jim says again.
His voice is almost trembling.
"We need to talk."
"Indeed," Spock replies.
The room is caste in shadows.
I can't see Spock's face clearly. .
I do not wish to spy, but I find myself unable to stop listening.
I can't even look away.
I'm sitting in the shadows of my office.
The half-open door gives me a clear view of them.
I had just turned the computer off, getting ready to leave.
That's when Jim showed up.
Spock's face is caste in shadows.
Jim is sitting beside his sickbed.
His hands are folded in his lap.
He's looking at them as if they hold the key to Pandora's box.
Frightened, hopeful and determined.
All at once.
He also seems uncertain.
As if unsure of where to begin.
My heart aches for them.
May they find their way back to each other this night.
Spock suddenly makes a movement.
What is he doing, I wonder.
Jim jerks.
Spock touched him.
It is as if that touch is an electric jolt.
Perhaps it is, to Jim.
I close my eyes wishing I didn't have to listen to this.
Wishing I didn't have to see it.
Happy that I am.
I feel guilty, but I want to know what happens next.
~ END