@diedsaving, starter.
IT’S BEEN SIX DAYS SINCE he woke. Spock believes the Captain’s condition is improved, glancing once over the board. Kirk’s face is flushed bright, pinker, perhaps—more alive. He’s already submitted a commendation for the efforts behind it all on behalf of the crew. And for Doctor McCoy, specifically. His fingers hover over a knight, “I received a transmission at eight hundred, this morning.”

it’s good, jim thinks, that he hasn’t really been left alone for the past six days. between the endless flurry of nurses & staff on their rounds, bones ( frequently ) & m’benga ( less frequently, always more of a social visit ) & boyd ( once ), the physical therapist, & his friends, his room has a rotating door. again, it’s good. it’s easier to focus on which nurses he can con into sneaking him lemon-flavored jello or an extra serving of ice cream & if spock’s really thinking about moving his knight there -- surely not -- than it is his own thoughts. “oh?” he asks, shifting slightly in bed. “nothing good ever comes from a transmission that comes right at eight a.m.”




