A/N: I am so sorry it's taken me so long to update. I started a couple summer courses though, and with a test/quiz each week, I have to focus my attention on that. There's that, plus the added horrible case of writer's block. I hope it's gone for good. I hope this chapter satisfies you and answers some questions you guys have had.
Thank you again for all your support with reviewing, alerting, and favoriting. :D Keep up the wonderful support, as it does motivate me. *Hugs to all*
By the way, to those of you who wonder, rizatriptan, is a migraine treatment, I looked it up.
Disclaimer: Still own nothing
The intricate parts of the communicator were displayed in such a way that Spock could examine them. The human side of him was growing increasingly frustrated at finding nothing wrong, while the Vulcan side of him was working hard at suppressing the frustration. The only other logical reason that the communicators refused to work was that the ship was truly out of range, very possibly in the future. That reason, however, did not explain the tricorders. They should work, as they did not depend on the proximity of the ship.
Lifting his head, he stole a glance at the open door of the guest bedroom. He really would have preferred working in the room, as to keep an eye on the captain. However, he knew that the man would be less likely to fall asleep if he were in the room. Jim Kirk had a thing for doing everything in his power to keep from doing what was good for him. Spock was sure that this behavior would make him acting captain of the Enterprise some day. It wasn't something he wanted, just a logical hypothesis based on the provided evidence.
The sight of Jim Kirk slowly making his way to the doorway, startled him some. He didn't let it show though.
"Where is 'e?" Jim asked, his voice curious and lazy at the same time. He stood in the open door way of the room, his hand resting against the side. His skin was pallid, his eyes bloodshot. In short, he looked like death warmed over.
"Who are you speaking of?"
"Bones, he was just here. Stabbed me with a hypo just as I was dozing." He sat down on the couch next to Spock's chair.
"Doctor McCoy has not been here. It has only been you and I." Spock narrowed his eyes at Jim. If that man had been looking he might have detected almost blatant concern in the dark eyes. Jim wasn't looking at Spock though; his focus had strayed to the table that held the communicator and tricorder.
"What's wrong with 'em?" he questioned as he pressed a couple fingers to his head.
"I am unsure, I am still trying to surmise the answer to that question."
"You think they're even looking for us?" Jim's tired, fevered brain was jumping from one topic to the next, unable to sit too long on one.
"I would speculate that yes, they are. Between Lieutenant Uhura and Doctor McCoy I do not think we are forgotten." Dulled blue eyes looked up at him as a grin grazed his features.
"I've always wondered why you two hooked up together." Spock looked at him and if he hadn't been Vulcan, Jim would have labeled the look as a blank stare.
"I do not believe that the details of my personal relationship with Lieutenant Uhura are worth sharing."
"You're no fun ya know that?" he commented before applying more pressure than before to his head. He let out a low hiss of pain as he clenched his teeth together.
"You require more pain medication." Jim let out a small, dry chuckle.
"Guess so. Let me get 'em. I'm beginning to feel useless." He didn't let Spock say anything as he stood up. For the briefest of moments he had to steady himself against a wave of dizziness. Once it had passed he made him way to the bathroom. He felt Spock's eyes on his back the entire time.
Opening the medicine cabinet he reached for the aspirin bottle, but his hand froze when he spotted a different bottle. The bottle was labeled rizatriptan. His mom often took the pills when she was on earth. The headaches started around the time he turned thirteen, when she was home she'd often tease him and say he gave her all the headaches with his antics.
Because she was gone so often on Starfleet business, people often figured that their relationship was a tense one. In reality that wasn't true at all. They had an excellent relationship. He remembered one time when he was nine, he was helping her in the vegetable garden. They were talking, then after a moment of silence she looked at him.
"Jamie", she started, "I know I'm not home a lot. I wish I could be." That was something she often said. He knew she felt guilty for not being home, but he didn't have the heart to beg her to stay. Sam had told him once that she would go crazy if she stayed put for too long.
Winona had finished her usual apology with something different, "I don't want to lose you like I did Sammy." Her and Sam had fought a lot, Jim rarely listened, especially since majority of the fights occurred when he was a bit younger and even a little before his time. Sam had brains like Jim, it was something that, according to Winona, they got from George. Sam knew he was smart and he learned early on that he could argue. While most eight year olds would just say that they didn't want to do something, no reason behind it, just what they felt, Sam would give reason. Sometimes he argued just to argue and it drove Winona crazy. By the time he turned sixteen, he had graduated high school and he instantly left Riverside, looking for something else. He came back every now and again, usually to check on Jim, but the visits were always when she was away. Jim had asked him once if they ever talked, he just smiled and told him to finish saddling up his horse.
"Life's too short," she continued, "to let silly little arguments get in the way." He took that to heart. Very rarely would he argue with her. When she found out about some of the things he did, he'd accept her yelling at him, because she was the only one who could make him truly feel guilty about what he did and he hated that. He hated knowing that she was mad at him. It was when he was ten that she told him that when she yelled at him it hurt her, because she loved him so much. Jim didn't like hurting her, so when Frank gave him a choice between informing her about his latest delinquent escapade or being whipped, because that was how his daddy did it and that was how he was going to do it to Jim, Jim always chose the whip.
They only every had one true argument and that was right after she reluctantly resigned from Starfleet. Jim was fed up with school. The kids basically hated him, the teachers were tired of him and the work bored him. He didn't want to deal with one more day of it, so he decided to drop out. That hadn't gone over well with his mom. She wanted him to finish school so he could go on to bigger, better things. What she meant to say, but kept quiet about was that it would get him in well with Starfleet Academy so he could follow in the footsteps of his father. He didn't want that. He took off that night on his bike, didn't return home until a year later when he received a message from Sam telling him that she wanted to see him one last time.
Jim took a breath and grabbed the aspirin bottle. Emptying out three tablets, instead of the suggested two, he swallowed them down with some water from the sink. Pulling at the bottom of his shirt, he made his way back to the living room, where he froze at the sight of Sam and Frank standing before Spock.
To Be Continued...