Star Trek and all associated characters are not mine.

Please excuse any errors, this chapter was not reviewed by my beta reader.

CHAPTER 6 of 6

AFTER

Alive. She was alive.

Trapped. She felt trapped in heavy claustrophobic darkness. The oppressiveness closed in around her, while something smothered her face. A rush of anxiety flooded her body, heightening her every painful sensation. She reached blindly and clawed at the obstruction attached to her face. Her eyes flickered open, and the brightness around her seared them. She blinked back tears of pain and frustration, struggling to focus on someone or something. All she saw were blurred shapes.

Urgent voices beyond comprehension reached her sensitive ears. She attempted to turn her head toward the sounds and could not. The hands that had tried weakly to free her face flopped limply to her sides. Frigid cold suffused her entire body, spilling into her mind. Something was dreadfully wrong. Her heart and mind screamed at the wrongness, wanting desperately to fix it. Fix a wrongness tied to Spock. The coldness numbing her inside and out, belonged to him, and it was dragging her under. He needed her now. She had to get to him before the last spark of warmth left his heart and soul. Reaching deep within, she gathered her remaining strength and forced her shaking hands back to her face.

A flash of triumph blazed through her. She was free. Groping desperately, she pulled herself upright. She was about to swing her legs over the bed she laid upon, when large hands pushed her back down. She fought frantically to get back up, but the hands were too strong. She felt a prick on her left arm, and instantly darkness swallowed her whole.

***

"Spock," Uhura gasped hoarsely, as she woke for a second time. She blinked a few times, thankful for the lowered lights and gentle humming of sickbay. She inhaled deeply and winced at the pain in her throat and lungs.

The soft sound of an opening door, followed by light footsteps caught her attention. This time she was able to move her head without a great deal of effort. A familiar figure in uniform blue greeted her. "Sleeping Beauty wakes," McCoy remarked with a warm smile.

"Hi. How long have I been out?" She flexed her feet. She definitely felt stronger, and the pain in her body had dulled to soreness.

His smile vanished. "Three days."

Three days of her life was gone. For Uhura, so use to filling each day with as much meaning as possible, this bit of news was unsettling. Pushing aside the feeling, she said, "My throat hurts, Doctor."

"I'm not surprised." McCoy reached above her and proceeded to adjust the monitors connected her bed. "You inhaled a large amount of sulphur and ash."

"What happened?"

Captain Kirk having quietly entered sickbay after McCoy was the one to answer. "We arrived at your location prior to the eruption. Unfortunately, it took longer than expected for us to punch through the ion storm."

"Spock and Mariah?" Memories of her previous waking rushed to the forefront. She remembered feeling cold and numb, knowing that Spock was in danger. With desperate eyes, she looked at each man, and then around the room.

McCoy rested a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Uhura, or you'll send yourself into a panic attack."

She willed herself to relax. Concentrating inward, she realised that Spock shone softly within her mind. The empty cold was gone. There was only warmth. "I couldn't feel him earlier…earlier, when I woke."

A look passed between doctor and captain, for the first time she noticed how haggard they looked. It felt good to have comrades who cared that much for her welfare.

"He kept you two alive until we showed up. Damn near depleted himself," McCoy replied.

Uhura frowned, trying to remember all the details of what happened after the shields began to fail. The effort triggered a headache. She sighed, and sat up with their assistance. McCoy poured a glass of water and handed it to her. "I don't understand," she said, after a few sips.

"He induced some sort of healing trance and locked you both into it. As internal damage occurred to your body, he manipulated it just enough to keep you alive. When we brought you aboard the Enterprise, it was almost impossible to separate the two of you."

She collapsed back onto the bed, almost splattering water across her legs. Now she understood why everything had felt terribly wrong. "He flatlined, didn't he?"

Their uneasy silence was all the answer Uhura needed. "We had prepared ourselves for the possibility of not surviving."

"We got to you," Kirk said. "All three of you survived, and you know what?"

"Yes?"

A small smile graced his lips, brightening his already bright eyes. "The good doctor said you did an impressive job keeping Hartman alive."

She smiled back. "You can thank Gaila for dragging me to those advance emergency classes."

McCoy once more adjusted the monitor above her head, then left her and went to a workstation. He returned to her bed, and she noticed he carried a hypo. He promptly proceeded to inject her with the contents. Instantly it took hold, sending her into a drowsy state. She glared at him in annoyance. She had many more questions in need of answers. She was not in the mood to go back to sleep.

"Not fair, Len."

"Whoever said I played fair?" he retorted.

Softening her glare, she said, "I want to see him."

McCoy walked around her bed and pulled back a privacy screen. On the bed, right next to hers was her k'diwa. He lay there utterly still, exhibiting the barest hint of life. Touching their link, she drifted off to sleep with him in her sights.

***

Burning ice encased him. At one time, it soothed, offering up comfort as he healed. Now, it burned. He needed to break free. He struggled and felt it crack. Not enough, he needed more. He needed pain to escape. Gloriously that pain arrived. It filtered through the ice and stung him everywhere. He embraced the sensation, using it to his advantage. More pain and he broke the ice. Another smack of pain, and he was free to move towards the warm light of full consciousness.

Someone was administering each blow, aiding him in his waking. Sensing the next incoming one, he reached out and grabbed the descending hand. Holding it, he opened his eyes and met Dr. McCoy's concerned face. "That was sufficient," he rasped.

"And here I thought I would have more fun," McCoy replied, running his tricorder over him. "You really gave us a good scare, Spock."

"In the future, I will endeavour to be careful, Doctor."

McCoy stopped his scanning and stared. He pursed his lips, pointing the tricorder at Spock's head. He read the readings, and then looked at Spock's face. "I had to double-check that you did not suffer an undiagnosed head injury."

As frustrating as he sometimes found the doctor, it was somewhat entertaining to prod at him. "I was merely providing you with the most judicious of answers."

"Now there's the Spock, I know and sometimes care about," McCoy replied.

Closing his eyes briefly, Spock caressed the piece of Nyota that now resided inside his mind. "Did Ensign Hartmann survive?"

"Yes. We have her in an induced coma while she heals."

Spock was gratified to hear she would live. Throughout their ordeal, even unconscious, she held on to the threads of her life.

"Lieutenant Uhura? How is she?"

A broad grin stretched across the McCoy's face. He stepped aside, adjusting the privacy screen. "Why don't you ask her?"

Instantly, Nyota, dressed in hospital attire was at his bedside. Her cool hands grasped his right hand. There were unshed tears in her eyes and a small smile quivered at her lips. She had never looked more beautiful to him.

McCoy stepped back, his hand returning to the privacy screen. "I'll give you two some alone time. Call if you need something."

As the doctor's retreating steps faded, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "They told me what you did to keep me alive."

Caressing Nyota's fingers, he gazed up into her brown eyes. "You are mine, just as I am yours, k'diwa. I will always do anything within my ability to keep you safe and alive."

The tears finally escaped her eyes. He reached up to brush them away. Capturing his hand against her cheek, she replied, "I would do the same."

"I do not doubt you."

She let go of his hand and took a seat at the edge of his narrow bed. "So, with our bond, we're almost married?"

Our bond, the sound of those two words pleased him. He wondered why it took three point seven years and near death for them to do it. "Yes we are. Do you wish to have an official ceremony?"

Nyota fidgeted a bit until she was comfortable, a thoughtful expression stealing over her features. "When I was a young girl, one of my aunts became engaged. She showed up at our home and gave us a detailed description of the momentous event. She described the restaurant, the flowers and how the very expensive ring was slipped onto her finger. Listening to her, I wanted that for myself. It sounded exciting."

Spock was not sure he liked where this story was going. He knew among Humans, especially females, marriage and all the particulars that went with it, could become an elaborate ritual with many steps. "Is this your way of saying you would like me to propose in the Human way?"

She watched him under lowered lashes. He felt a soft tickle of amusement along their bond. He realised, they would have to practice mental shielding. Presently, however, he was more concerned with the turn of their conversation.

"But," she continued, as if he had never asked his question. "On that planet, when I thought I would die, I came to realise such a thing was trivial. What truly mattered were our feelings for each other. Yes, I would like a ceremony someday. Perhaps we can have it here on Enterprise or Earth, maybe New Vulcan. Right now, I would prefer to simply enjoy the gift of being bonded to you."

Spock tried to untangle every meaning buried within her small speech. After a moment of concentrated effort, he could only glean two certainties: Nyota was happy bonded to him and she would officially marry him at some point. It was good enough for him. "As you wish," he said, in response.

She curled her body next to his and placed a hand on his chest, her fingers absently drawing patterns. They were quiet for a few minutes, content to enjoy each other's company.

"Getting back to our discussion from before the ion storm, we kicked butt at the symposium."

"I remember, remarking that such an attitude was not in spirit with the event."

Nyota shook her head. "Mariah and I disagreed. Since, we live in a democracy with majority rule, I stand firm by our conclusion."

Not answering, he pulled her closer. She then launched into a detailed outline to support her argument. It was amusing and illogical. Spock found, he did not care. All that mattered was that she was alive and they were together.

END

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