Title: AFTER THE CREDITS The Galileo SevenAuthor: Ster Julie

Codes: S, Mc, Ch

Rating: PG

Part 2 of 2

Summary: Spock has been released from sickbay after having his leg repaired. The body has healed, but has the spirit?

A/N:

1. Thank you to the creators of the wonderful Vulcan Language Dictionary.

2. I hadn't intended to add a chapter to ATC: The Galileo Seven but I got this plot bunny while reading Rosemary's story Sláinte. She said I should feed the bunny some carrots….

-ooOoo-

"Aahh…" Spock vocalized. He felt as if his throat had been filled with salt and allowed to dry. He could produce no moisture to ease his throat, making it ever so painful to swallow. His mind felt swaddled in lumps of cotton, and his limbs moved slowly as if wading through molten lead.

Spock realized that he had been drugged. He tried to identify the pulsing noises he was hearing. A monitor, he determined. He was in a medical facility. Sickbay? Yes, Sickbay, he concluded.

Spock had a vague recollection of talking to Dr. McCoy, nearly begging him to remove something, something with a sound and sensation so annoying that it was driving him mad. The bone re-fuser, he thought. My leg was broken on Taurus 2.

Taurus 2. Spock's first command. Latimer. Gaetano.

Spock closed his eyes as the memories came rushing back. He had tried to apply logic in each case. Why had the mission deteriorated so badly, so quickly? His injury had not allowed him to participate in the mission debriefing. He would have to discuss this further with the captain so he could understand why his mission proved so disastrous.

Nurse Chapel came to check on Spock. The "bone knitter" had been removed from Spock's shattered leg several hours earlier while he was still asleep and Doctor McCoy had ordered her to let the Vulcan awaken on his own.

Spock turned his head to the nurse and gestured weakly to his throat. Chapel poured a glass of water then repositioned Spock's bed so he could drink without choking. The nurse held the glass for Spock as he hastily gulped the soothing liquid. She hit the comm. button as she poured another glassful.

"Sickbay to Dr. McCoy," she called.

"McCoy here," they heard. "Is Sleeping Beauty finally awake?" he teased.

Chapel smiled as Spock took the glass from her and downed it. "Yes," she answered, "and he's thirsty!"

"Well, give him all the water he wants, but don't let him off that bed," McCoy ordered. "I'll be right there."

"How long?" Spock croaked out.

"How long have you been out?" Chapel clarified. Spock nodded tiredly. "Nearly two days," the nurse replied. Spock flicked an eyebrow in surprise. The drugs had affected his time sense.

"Tell me how you are feeling," Chapel said as she passed a monitor over Spock.

"I believe I understand the word 'lousy' now," he grated. Chapel chuckled warmly at Spock's attempt at levity.

"What's so funny?" McCoy demanded as he entered the ward.

"Our patient says he feels lousy, Doctor," she reported as she passed McCoy the results of her scan. McCoy shot a surprised look at Chapel before scanning Spock's chart.

"Well, let's try and remedy that, shall we?" McCoy responded. "Nurse, go to Spock's diet card and bring him something hot to drink."

"Number 8," Spock suggested quickly.

"One number 8 coming right up," Chapel replied with a smile.

McCoy uncovered Spock's injured leg and used his hands to tell him what the readouts did not. The leg was still terribly discolored but McCoy could see that the bruising was beginning to dissipate. He felt down the leg to check the alignment and to determine if there was any residual damage. Spock flinched when McCoy touched him mid-thigh.

"Now, are you reacting to pain or tenderness, Spock?" McCoy asked.

"Tenderness," Spock breathed.

"Can you live with it," the doctor continued, "or do you need more time on the bone-knitter?"

"No!" Spock reacted.

Soon the ward was filled with a sweet, spicy aroma as Chapel returned with Spock's requested beverage.

"Is that mulled cider?" McCoy asked.

Chapel looked into a mug of a steaming, pale viscous liquid. "I'm not certain," she replied, "but it does smell good."

Spock sat up, procured the mug eagerly and took a long, healthy swallow. There was a look of near bliss on his face as he allowed the warm liquid to soothe his throat. McCoy passed a scanner over it and whistled. The juice base gave Spock the burst of quick energy he needed, but the plant proteins and complex carbohydrates would sustain him until he could get a proper meal. The choice of spices seemed a little odd, but overall McCoy felt that this concoction was well balanced.

"It's like a breakfast shake," he commented, "but it's hot, not cold."

Spock ignored the doctor's comments and finished his drink. "When may I be released?" he asked.

"Show me how much weight you can bear first," McCoy stated, "then we'll talk."

Spock sat on the edge of the bed and let his leg dangle a moment. Then he slowly eased himself off the bed and into McCoy's steadying arms.

"That's right," the doctor said, "just stand there a moment. How does it feel?"

Spock put his full weight onto the leg, then shifted side to side and forward and back a little. He raised his knee and flexed his ankle. "It is somewhat stiff and there is residual weakness, but it is bearing my weight."

McCoy still held the Vulcan by the elbows. "Take a few steps forward," he ordered. The doctor moved backwards while holding Spock, looking for all the galaxy like they were dancing a strange waltz. "Now how does it feel?"

"It is adequate," Spock pronounced.

McCoy looked at Spock skeptically a moment before stepping over to a supply closet and withdrawing a length of tubing with a curve at one end. "Here."

Spock took the proffered item. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's your ticket out of here, Commander," McCoy said in his most no-nonsense voice. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

Spock could have balked. He could have demanded a change of clothing from the Sickbay coverall. He could have refused to use the walking stick. He could have done many things, but he knew that it would have only defeated his purpose. Spock turned to the door and walked carefully out of Sickbay and into the corridor using the cane.

McCoy walked in companionable silence all the way to Spock's cabin door. While Spock made a beeline for his lav, McCoy programmed up some soft workout clothes for the Vulcan. He handed them through the door once he heard the sonic shower shut off.

Again Spock didn't argue. He donned the proffered clothing and looked at McCoy, awaiting the instructions he knew was coming.

"Stretch out on the bed," the doctor ordered.

I just spent two days in bed, Doctor," Spock protested.

"Look, we either do this here," McCoy barked, "or we go back to Sickbay."

Spock scrambled stiffly onto the bed.

"Good," the doctor observed. "Now, starting with your toes and working up to your head and out our fingers, I want you to flex and stretch each joint, each muscle group. You've been inert for two days. You have to wake up your body. I won't give you any specific exercises, just move to get your flexibility back. Then do some isometrics on your legs. Do this until you get tired. I'll check back on you later. Now, get to work!"

Spock began curling his toes and flexing his feet before McCoy had even made it out the door.

When McCoy returned three hours later, he found Spock curled on his side, asleep. It always amazed the doctor how much younger people looked when they were asleep. There were no worries or responsibilities to way a person's features down when deeply asleep. McCoy hated to awaken Spock, but he needed to check the Vulcan's vitals. The doctor wrapped a towel around the small feinberger to muffle the sound but to no avail. Spock awakened at the sound almost immediately.

"Aw, sorry, Spock," McCoy apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Quite alright, Doctor," Spock replied.

McCoy felt Spock's leg, checking muscle tone. "How long did you exercise?" he asked as he noted far less flinching on Spock's part.

"I spent eighteen minutes flexing, Spock reported, "and an unknown time doing isometrics."

McCoy looked sharply at Spock at the imprecision.

"I fell asleep," he added sheepishly.

The doctor ginned, nearly laughing. "It happens, Spock," he soothed. "You'll just need to get back your endurance. Swimming would be the best for you. Now don't make that face, you desert rat, you. You can use the lap pool and adjust the temperature of the water to your liking."

Spock lowered his head a moment, then he squared his shoulders and raised his eyes to McCoy.

"I first have a duty to perform," he said softly. "I assume that the ship service for Gaetano and Latimer has already been held?"

"And for Ensign O'Neal," McCoy added. Spock questioned him with his eyes. "He was part of landing party two led by Lieutenant Kelowitz," the doctor explained.

"Then I shall hold my own memorial for these men," Spock announced. He swung his legs off the bed, reached for his cane and hoisted himself to his feet. When he was sure of his balance, Spock moved to the dresser and reached deep into the bottom drawer. He tossed a cloth bag onto the bed, then hobbled to his assenoi shrine and added incense to the flame pot. Sitting on the bed, Spock opened the bag and poured out a rich garment of fabric so fine that it seemed to be fluid and not solid. He drew the robe over his shoulders and asked, "Do you wish to participate, Doctor?"

McCoy shook himself out of studying Spock's actions and asked quietly, "Would it be alright if I just observe? I promise I'll be quiet." Spock gave a curt nod and began the ritual.

It all looks so … Zen, McCoy thought, the positioning of the hands, the bowing, the low chanting, the incense. McCoy tried to discreetly cough as Spock continued. The doctor only recognized three words-O'Neal, Latimer, and Gaetano.

McCoy detected a break in the Vulcan's voice as Spock stumbled on that last name. Does he still feel guilty about Gaetano? The doctor thought. I'll have to talk to him about that again, or perhaps I should let Jim handle it this time.

Spock beckoned the doctor closer and held out his tin of incense to him. McCoy remembered the ceremony Spock held when Nancy Carter died. The doctor picked out three grains of incense and chanted with Spock as they each dropped the incense on the glowing coal, one grain for each invocation.

"Za-gadvesht."

"Yesterday past."

"La'nash-gad."

"Present today."

"Fa-gadek'wak."

"Tomorrow forever."

Each man gathered some of the fragrant smoke in one hand and brought it to their forehead while they contemplated each of the three men, how they would remember them, how they were grateful for their sacrifice, and how they would keep them alive in their memories.

McCoy opened his eyes to the sounds of Spock putting away his ritual robe. The doctor hoped that the ceremony would give Spock a modicum of closure on his disastrous first command.

"Thank you for participating, Doctor," the Vulcan said quietly.

"Thank you for letting me stay," McCoy replied. "It's a beautiful ceremony. Someday you'll have to tell me what the chants mean." He put a gentle hand on Spock's shoulder. "Now, how about that swim?" he asked.

Spock rolled his eyes at the doctor. "If I must," he said unenthusiastically.

McCoy chuckled. "Mr. Spock, did I ever tell you how much you remind me of our old black cat?" he said as he escorted the Vulcan out the door for his first swim therapy. "He hated water so much that when we wanted to give him a bath he would splay all four legs and scream, 'No!' like a little kid. Just like that. 'Noooo!'"

Spock sighed.

"Your cat was a very perceptive creature, Doctor."

END

See "After the Credits: The Man Trap"

Inspired by this clip: www. youtube watch?v (equal sign) 4Q6Gn44XhXo&feature (equal sign) related (remove the spaces)