Quarantine

While investigating a distress signal from a medical research ship, Spock inadvertently becomes infected with the deadly virus. Leaving Michael to figure out how to save him when one wrong move could lead to another universal wide epidemic.

The door banged and he could hear the long and constant push and pull that made it rattle loudly. The desperate bang and crash that accompanied her screams, her pleas.

"Spock! Spock! What are you doing? Open the goddamned door!"

Spock lowered his eyes, a sense of overwhelming grief washing over him. Not for himself, but for the woman banging and screaming his name on the other side. He hit his comm. "I cannot, Michael."

"What the hell? Spock, I am your superior officer!" Another bang and rattle. "Open this door, now! That's an order!"

Michael had never pulled rank on him, not once, and for her to do so, said she already knew the peril of the situation. It hurt that he could not comply. He looked around at the 5 scientists on the floor. All crew members of Science Station 2. A small base in the Delta quadrant that did medical research. All still, disfigured and dead. The 5th and final crew member, Doctor Kale, was still alive when he entered the room, what a Rookie mistake. He'd lifted the doctor's head to hear the doctor's whispers and then the man died a second later.

They'd received a low level distress signal less than 5 hours ago, all crew, were still alive, but on arrival they'd walked into what appeared to be a deserted base, with only 1 life sign registering. They'd split up to search and he was the one to find the crew, he was the one to enter the room, he was the one to turn the air vents off and to close and seal the doors.

"Spock, what's going on?!" Michael screamed again and then the banging stopped.

A second later he turned to see her on the other side of the 3rd wall predominately made of glass. Her mouth was gaped open and there were tears in her eyes as she looked from one dead crew member to another. She tapped her comm. "What the hell happened here?"

Spock turned to face her fully. The smudge of dirt, a stark reminder that there was a barrier between them. "Doctor Kale spoke to me before he died. He only said two words."

"What were they?"

Spock took a step closer to the window. "Contamination and airborne."

Michael sucked in a shocked breath and one of her tears spilt over. "Contam..." her voice faded as if in disbelief. "Contamination from what?" she finally got out.

"Unknown." He walked over to the computer and sat down, pressing a few keys.

Michael hit her comm. again. "Commander Burnham to Discovery. 2 to beam up, directly to sick bay."

Spock hit his comm. quickly. "Discovery cancel that order!" He looked across at Michael. "Until we know what we are dealing with here, it is too dangerous for me to return to Discovery." He pressed another couple of buttons and chose not to look at her when he spoke again. "You, however, need to return and start the protocols of quarantining this entire base."

"That is not logical, Spock. I could be infected with whatever this is, too."

That thought made him swallow hard. He kept typing away. There was a faint smell in the air when he came in. He could only hope that his theory was correct. The contamination was confined to this lab. He closed his eyes briefly with relief when he pulled up the schematics of the base. This was a safe room, totally sealed and secured from the rest of the ship. It held some of the most deadly cultures and pathogens in the known universe and for that reason, once Spock had closed the door with the emergency lock, nothing could get in or out, without the 5 pin release code. It would explain why all the crew had congregated in this room. The fact that Spock had been able to enter presumably meant that Doctor Kale hadn't locked them down. Maybe he'd held out hope that they could still have been rescued?

"Spock? Michael? This is Captain Pike. What's going on down there?"

"Spock's locked himself into one of the labs," Michael was the first to speak. "He thinks we may have been exposed to something that has killed all the crew."

"Correction," Spock interjected. "I may have been exposed. I'm in Lab 7, which is the secure lock down room, specifically built for this exact scenario. Michael has not been exposed."

"Captain," Michael said, looking directly at Spock, a mixture of anger and fear in her eyes. "If Spock has been exposed, he's still being exposed. We need to quarantine him in the safety of Discovery."

Spock shook his head. "Too dangerous. We know whatever this is, is airborne. We cannot be certain its particles won't be transported with me."

Pike let out an audible sigh. "I'll have Doctor Culber set up a sealed quarantine area. Commander Burnham's right. You're still being exposed while you are in there."

"Captain, I do not think-,"

"I've made my decision, Spock," Pike's voice was uncharacteristically gruff. "Pike out."

Spock stood up from his seat at the console and moved towards the window. Michael smiled at him, but it looked forced. There was, however relief on her face.

"It would appear my concerns are going unheeded," he said as he moved right up to the glass.

"Are you, okay? I mean, do you feel any..." She shrugged. "...different?"

"I feel no different, Michael." He looked down at her. They were only a foot apart. His eyes searched her face and he would give anything to take away the fear in her eyes.

"If... I haven't said it today, I'm sorry." She smiled again, but this time it was natural. "I love you, Spock, with all my heart."

"As I do you," he replied.

"Spock," Captain Pike's voice broke their moment. "We're ready. Prepare to beam up."

One beat... two beats... three.

On the forth beat Michael frowned. "Captain, what's happening?"

"We're unable to get a lock. Something is interfering with the signal."

Spock nodded. "I suspected that would be the case. There is a neuron destabiliser running through the walls and roof."

"What?" Michael's voice rose an octave.

"This room," Spock explained. "It contains deadly bacteria's that could easily be weaponized. It makes sense that nothing could be beamed out."

"Spock?" Another voice came over the comm. "This is Doctor Culber I've just pulled up the schematics and we need to reduce the risk. There should be a white and red door."

Spock looked around. "Yes, I see it."

"That leads to a walk in freezer. The first thing you need to do is find gloves. I don't want you to have any physical contact. Then I need you to move all of the crew's bodies into it."

Physical contact? Spock thought about lifting Doctor Kale's mouth to his ear. "Understood." He moved to the bench with microscopes and analysis trays. There were thick blue gloves in the dispenser. He placed them over his hands and opened the door to the freezer. As he thought the doors didn't remain open, they glided close. The last thing he needed was to be stuck in a freezer so he grabbed one of the stools and placed it so the door couldn't close. He thought about grabbing the first body by the arms and dragging them in, but he deemed it too disrespectful, so, one by one he picked them up and walked them in there.

"I've done that Doctor. Any other instructions?"

"Somewhere in there, there should be a medical tri-corder. I need you to take some readings. First off, of yourself. We're only receiving the Commander's vitals. It must be that room, because clearly you're not dead."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Clearly." He moved around the room, looking for the tri-corder, opening cabinets and drawers. "There doesn't seem to be one." He kept searching, but he came up empty.

He heard Doctor Culber sigh. "Okay, well... we might need to do this the old fashioned way."

"And what would that be, Doctor?"

"Are you hot? Any fever?"

"The room is warm. I have turned the air vents off, but I do not believe my internal temperature has risen."

"Wait, what?" Pike chimed in. "Why have you closed the air vents?"

"The last thing Doctor Kale said was contamination and airborne. I did not wish anything to escape this room."

"But, Spock. Without air... if nothing can get out, then air can't get in."

"I am aware of this, Captain." He risked a glance at Michael who was staring at him wide eyed. "I... I've done some rudimentary calculations and I have calculated that there is enough air in this room to last approximately 8 hours, before carbon dioxide is the prominent gas."

"I don't understand," Michael said. "If this room was built for such an event, then why wouldn't they have thought about that?" She frowned. "That makes no sense."

Spock returned to the console and hit a button. He skimmed through some of the pages regarding the research conducted on the base. "It would appear they didn't think about it, because it wasn't supposed to happen. None of the agents here should be able to travel through air." He used his finger to scroll through the pages quickly. "It lists only direct contact with someone infected or direct contact with the agent itself as possible modes of contamination."

He heard Michael suck in a breath through his comm. "Did you touch Doctor Kale?"

Spock looked over at her. "Yes," he said simply and tried to convey how sorry he was in his eyes.

"So we have a countdown on air supply and a likelihood that you've contracted whatever this is," Pike said. "Great." There was a long pause. "Hang tight, Spock. We're going to find a way to get you out of there."

The comm. went silent.

"How could you have been so damned stupid?" It wasn't really a question, just Michael letting out her frustration.

"Michael. I-,"

"Don't you Michael me, Spock!" Michael put both hands up against the glass. "You totally went against protocol. Walked into a situation without assessing the danger."

Spock blinked and gave himself a second to respond. "You're right," he said finally. "I made a mistake. Doctor Kale looked at me and I didn't hesitate to kneel down beside him. His lips were moving and I wanted to know what he was saying. If I had taken the time to look at the surroundings, checked the environment with my tri-corder, then..." He felt foolish. He had let the dying man determine his actions, instead of evaluating the situation.

Tears welled in Michael's eyes again, resolve and an apology in her tone. "Then we may not have known this was airborne and I'd be infected. Maybe all of Discovery if we'd beamed back on board." Her bottom lip quivered. "I'm sorry. I..."

"Michael..." Spock stood and moved to the glass, placing his hands up to hers. He opened his mouth to say something and felt... no... saw a speck of light in his peripheral vision. There was the smallest of a burning sensation in the corner of his eye, but it lasted only a millisecond. "Michael," he said again without flinching, or reacting. "I am certain that Captain Pike and Doctor Culber are already working on a solution. We just need to... hang tight."

Michael smiled and wiped away a tear. "I wish we didn't have this glass between us."

"I will hold you soon enough," he said with certainty, even though he wasn't certain.

"You're going to have to do a hell of a lot more than hold me, after this, Spock," she half joked.

Spock allowed a small smile to curve his lips. "If that is my punishment for being so foolish, then I must endure it."

Michael huffed out a half laugh, half sob. "We must be in trouble if you're making jokes. I know-,"

"Spock?" a voice broke their banter.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I'm going to need a sample of the contaminant. I can't start finding a solution or a cure if I have no idea what it is. We're working on a way to get it, but is there anything at all in the logs? We've tried to tap into them, but no luck. Its firewalls have firewalls. Captain Pike is contacting Star Fleet for the codes, but we need to get ahead of this."

"Yes we do. I will contact you if I find anything." He nodded as he reluctantly moved away from Michael and back to the console. He needed to read the records in much more detail. He started at the top, reading and skimming irrelevant data. He was only three pages in when the burning sensation in the corner of his eye returned. The white light flashed across his entire vision this time. Involuntarily he brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He looked over to the window and his heart skipped a beat. So was Michael.

He hit Michael's frequency on his comm. "Michael?"

"I'm headed to deck two."

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a space suit. I have to come in and get that sample."

"I'm sorry, Michael. I cannot open the doors."

"You heard Hugh. They're getting the codes. You just have to key them in."

"I should rephrase that, Michael. I will not open that door. Not while you or anyone else is at risk."

"We need that sample, Spock. A space suit will protect me."

"I am not willing to take that risk, Michael."

Flash of light. Burning sensation. An audible intake of breath.

"Spock?"

Nothing.

"Spock?"

No reply.

"What's happening?" Michael's voice rose louder.

Spock tried to regain his composure. The burn lasted longer this time and it was in both eyes. "As I said, I am not willing to take that risk," he repeated, trying to maintain the conversation without disclosing his symptoms.

"What just happened?" Michael asked.

"Nothing," he lied. There was a beat of silence and he knew Michael didn't believe him.

"Found them," Michael said. "I'll be back in a moment."

Spock continued to read the logs and the research notes.

Medical Log: Stardate 12.401.

It would appear that the testing of the Vaga virus has again been unsuccessful. Our attempts to splice the core gene from the bacterial interface has not worked. While it appears to be successful at first, and the bacterial interface dies quickly, the core gene then mutates and shows signs of metamorphoses within a few hours as the bacterial interface grows once again. This is hard to explain as the core gene is completely free of the virus once split. Our Medical Science Officer, Lieutenant Judy Cather has worked tirelessly to isolate the genes in many ways, but to no avail and always with the same result. We know we are on the right path, but as yet the answer eludes us.

Medical Log: Stardate 12.404.

Lieutenant Cather has reported a breakthrough with being able to split the Vaga virus. She has started to work with the bacterial interface to work out why it dies quickly without its core. It appears it requires Nitrogen to survive and we have only just now discovered that component in the core. It therefore could be why, at first we do not see the bacterial interfaces in the core when first split. They are carried in the Core Nitrogen component. By removing this component, the Vaga Core has survived for over 24 hours before its metamorphoses takes place and the bacteria returns. It would appear that the nitrogen is the key.

Spock nodded to himself and hit a button to look up the Vaga Virus. Nitrogen was the secondary gas, along with oxygen, that made up air.

Vaga Virus.

First discovered in 2197 by Doctor Joshua Keenan. Know for killing over 1 trillion species on several planets in the outer west Beta quadrant. Cure has never been found and in 2234 by order of the United Federation of Planets critical emergency team, all known planets that carried the virus were destroyed via internal combustion explosion. Only 46 cases of this disease has been recorded since. It is always fatal. Symptoms include burning pain, loss of coordination, distortion of skin and features, leading to organ failure and death.

Spock looked down at his comm. ensuring it was turned off. "Computer. How long between contraction of the Vaga Virus until death?"

'Variables depending on age, species and medical care. Typical times between 20 and 48 hours.'

Spock sighed. There was no doubt. He had the Vaga virus. It was ironic really. It would appear that he would not die from the disease. He was going to die from lack of air, long before that. He opened a channel directly to Pike. "Captain?"

"Spock... what is it? Have you found something?"

"I have. Do you have the codes so that I can transfer the data?"

"No. It seems this is rather highly classified. I am waiting to talk to Admiral Broman. What can you tell me?"

"The virus is called Vaga. It would appear that it was... is capable of reinventing itself to survive. It wasn't initially an airborne contaminant, but with the experiments they've been doing here, it seems to have..." He searched for the word. "Adapted."

"Vaga? I think I've heard of that," Pike said. "Good work, Spock. I'll get Huge onto it straight away."

"Captain?"

"My call should be through any minute. We'll beam you aboard and figure it out from there."

"Captain... you cannot. I can confirm that I am infected."

There was a long pause. "Are you sure?"

Spock reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. His body was starting to ache and he'd had 2 more incidents of pain and light in his eyes. "I am certain. You should also know that there is no known cure."

"Yet, Spock. There is no known cure... yet... I have to go. I'll get back to you with the codes shortly."

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Pike turned his comm. off and hit the holographic answer button. "Good evening Admiral Broman."

"Hello, Chris." There was a look in his eyes that Pike couldn't quite decipher. "I understand a couple of your crew are mixed up in this Medical station tragedy."

"Yes, Lieutenant Spock is in lockdown in lab 7 on the ship."

"Good," Broman said. "Most secure place he could be. What about Commander Burnham?"

"She's on the outside, but she's not been exposed."

"My reports say it's turned into an airborne virus, how can we know that she's not been exposed, for sure?"

"All of the crew were found in lab 7 and Spock locked it down, including the air vents. Our doctor has been monitoring her. She's shown no signs whatsoever."

"And Spock?"

Pike nodded. "We can't read or test him, because of the dampeners, but..." He swallowed. "Spock believes he has contracted the virus."

Broman closed his eyes for a moment and sucked in a breath. "I am really sorry to hear that, Chris."

"I've got Doctor Culber working on a containment field in sick bay, but we need the codes to turn off the neuron destabiliser to beam him aboard. I'm told you're the man that can give them to me."

Broman took in a long slow breath and gave him a pained look. "I was 17 when the Vaga epidemic hit. My Grandfather was a Star Fleet Lieutenant Commander at the time." Broman looked away but kept talking. "He was one of the pilots that took the crews down to drill and set the internal bombs. The ones that blew those planets to smithereens." He turned his head back to look at Pike and his eyes were glassy. "What he saw... the bareness, the devastation, the dead and rotting bodies. Animals, children... hundreds of people, bloody and distorted. God... thousands... everywhere. Not just on one planet but 5. The smell, he'd say... that smell followed him his whole life." Broman wiped the tear from his cheek. "Chris, he was never the same."

Pike felt his stomach drop. "What are you saying?"

"Spock can't board Discovery. Especially now we know it's morphed into an airborne contaminant. It wasn't one back then. Can you even imagine the damage it could do now?"

Pike shook his head. "We're not going to just leave him there."

"I'm sorry, Chris, I really am, but... that's exactly what we're going to do."

Pike took a step toward Broman's hologram image. "We don't leave our crew to just die!"

"There is no cure, Chris. The crew were commissioned to try and find one, but..." He shrugged. "Clearly they weren't successful. I am sorry, but Lieutenant Spock is already dead."

Pike found himself taking short panting breaths. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No!" Anger contorted his face. "I'm not-,"

"Captain. Spock will remain where he is. That's an order." Broman's face hardened. The gentleness and sympathy gone. "If Commander Burnham shows no signs in the next 48 hours you can beam her to your confinement area in sick bay. I'm going to have one of our experts to you in the next couple of hours. Doctor Fawkner, she'll be able to give the all clear and advise on the clean up."

Hot angry tears prickled at Pikes eyes. "Clean up?"

"We may have to blow it up, like we did those planets. Now that it's airborne, I'm not sure if that can be done. It might have to be towed. I don't know. It's Doctor Fawkner's job to assess." Broman reached for his console. "As I said. I'm really sorry."

"Wait," Pike said, trying to think quickly. He had to find a way. This couldn't be just black and white. He couldn't leave Spock there to die. "Can we have the security codes to get their research up here? They were trying to find a cure. We don't want to lose all of that. We can't let their deaths be in total vain. At least let us retrieve all that data."

"So, what?" Broman looked at him suspiciously. "You can try and find a cure in the next few hours? The best doctors and scientists have been working on this for years. What makes you think..." He trailed off and some of the compassion in his eyes returned. "I've given those codes to Doctor Fawkner, but... I suppose if you feel the need to be doing something, I... I can understand that. I'll send them to you in the next few minutes." He let out a sigh. "Broman out."

Pike blinked slowly as the tears finally spilled over. How could he possible tell this to Spock and Michael?

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Fear was starting to rise in the pit of Michael's stomach. She'd been watching Spock read the logs for over an hour now and while it was subtle, she could tell he was experiencing pain. He covered it and she didn't ask. She didn't really want to know. Because if she knew...

"Spock, Michael," Captain Pike echoed on both their comms. "I'm transmitting the codes for data transfer now."

Michael closed her eyes in relief. Finally, she thought as she watched Spock reach up and start to initiate the transfer. "What about the dampeners, Captain?" They really needed to get Spock medical attention. While she pretended not to notice, her heart, her soul, knew Spock was in trouble.

There was an audible intake of breath. "I'm afraid I don't have them. I'm... I'm still working on it."

Michael frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Michael!" Spock chastised her lack of respect. He swivelled in his chair to face her.

"I'm sorry, Captain. I'm just..." Michael composed herself. "How long before you have them."

"It's fine, Michael," Pike's tone said a thousand words. "I wish I had more, but..."

Spock stood up and walked slowly towards the window. Towards her. His eyes locked with hers. "They're not going to release those codes, are they?"

Michael's mouth opened at the question. "They're not going to just leave you."

There was a full beat of silence before Pike answered. "They won't release the codes; they believe it's too dangerous. Especially now that it's airborne."

"What?" Michael's voice was high, almost a whine. "They can't do this."

"Michael, it's okay," Spock said as he reached the window. "It is only logical that they contain such a deadly bacteria."

She shook her head and tears welled again in her eyes. "This is crazy. Star Fleet don't abandon their people."

"One versus millions," Spock said in a matter-of-fact way. "There is no choice here."

"No." Michael backed away from the window. "No," she said again. "There has to be a way. I can't... I can't lose you." She walked around the corner to the door.

"Michael, what are you doing?" Spock asked.

"I'm getting you out of there." She pulled her phaser out and blasted the control panel. The lid blew off. There were many wires and a keypad, but the lights continued their sequences. She moved over and started pulling at the wires and keying in random numbers. "Everything is hackable," she said under her breath.

"Michael stop!" Spock said. "You cannot open this door."

"The hell I can't," she said as she crossed wires and started to pay attention to the pings.

"Commander," Pike said, his voice full of authority. "Opening that door could be catastrophic."

"I don't care!" Michael replied as she continued to work. The pings were echoing the sequence. 4... the first number was 4.

"Commander," Pike said again, this time with anger. "Stand down! That's an order!"

Tears streamed freely down her face. She didn't think she could stop. Single mindedness was driving her. "Captain, please... we can't... I can't... This is Airiam all over again."

"Michael if you don't stop now I will send someone down there and they'll stop you. With force if need be. Acknowledge the order!"

"Michael," Spock's voice was breathless. "Please don't do this. I..." There was silence and then a cry of pain.

"Spock?" Michael looked up from the control and ran around to the window. Spock was doubled over, forehead against the window. She put both hands to the glass. "Spock," she said again. "Hey, look at me."

Spock slowly lifted his head and Michael reacted by taking a step back. "Oh my god." There was a tinge of white in his eyes and his face looked longer, like something was pulling down on his skin.

"You cannot open that door, Michael," he breathed out. His eyes pleading and glassy. "The needs of the many outweigh the few."

"Commander Burnham, please... acknowledge my order!" Pike's voice was softer and held compassion.

Michael nodded and swallowed hard. "Acknowledged, Captain."

"Michael... Spock..." Pike's voice cracked. "We're not giving up. We'll find a way. We're looking at all the data now. They were close. Close to a cure. Every single crew member with any medical or scientific knowledge is working on it now. There are so many in the labs, they can hardly move. We're... there has to be something."

Spock put his hand to the glass and Michael took a step forward to mirror him. "Thank you, Captain," Spock said, staring directly and intensely into her eyes. "Please tell them how much we appreciate their effort. Tell them we are... hanging tight... for further news."

Pike huffed out a painful laugh. "I will," tears in his voice. "I'll get back to you as soon as I know more."

The comm. went silent and again Michael again wished the glass was not between them. She needed to be in there. If this was going to be their last few hours together, she needed to touch, to hold. She needed to be 'with' the man she loved. She looked away for a moment, but it was enough. The codes released the data and she could bring them up on her tri-corder.

"What are you doing?" Spock asked as she pushed buttons and swiped.

"Bringing up the schematics." She pointed. "There's an airlock on the other side of that lab bench. I could get another suit. Maybe we could get you out by-,"

"I will not go, Michael. I will not risk millions of lives."

Michael's lip quivered because she could see the resolve in his eyes. "Okay... then I'm coming to you." She grabbed the spacesuit from the ground and started to put it on.

"No!" Spock said anger in his tone. "You are being irrational. You can do nothing for me in here. You'd only be putting yourself in harm's way. Even with that spacesuit, the risk is too high."

Michael fitted the last boot and then zipped the suit up all the way to her chin. "I'm coming Spock. You need to open the hatch when I get there." She stared at him for a long moment, contemplating that he may, in fact, not let her in. She tapped the control on the wrist of the suit. "This says I have about an hours' worth of air. It should take me about 20 minutes to get to you. If you leave me out there to long, I won't make it back."

Spock's face contorted, but it wasn't the disease, it was anger and pain of the emotional kind. "You are foolish and this is stupid. I forbid you to do this, Michael."

Michael tilted her head slightly. "You forbid me? You know that's like a red flag to a bull, don't you?" She gave him a small smile. "I'll see you on the other side."

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Spock shook his head. This was unacceptable. As much as he wanted... needed to hold her, he couldn't let her risk her life, just to be closer to him. He touched his Comm. "Captain?"

"Yes, Spock. Is everything okay? Any changes?"

"Michael has left the ship in a spacesuit and is making her way around to the airlock within the room."

"What?"

"You need to beam her aboard Discovery immediately."

Spock heard the captain sigh. "I'm sorry, Spock, I can't do that."

"The dampeners only affect this room. She will not be happy, but she must not-,"

"It's not the dampeners, Spock!" There was a pause and Spock could tell Pike was upset. "I'm under orders. Michael has to wait 48 hours with no symptoms before we can beam her aboard. Even then, she will need to be quarantined."

"Captain, did you not hear me. She is trying to enter this room via the airlock. We cannot let that happen."

"I heard you, Spock and I'm sorry. You are both under quarantine. I have very specific orders. Doctor Fawkner is on route. She's the expert apparently."

"I see, thank you, Captain." Spock said and closed the comm. without saying another word as anger started to bubble up. He couldn't tell if it was aimed at the captain or at Michael. Either way, he felt overwhelmed as he started to count the minutes for her anticipated arrival at the hatch. He paced for a long time and then needed to sit as his legs started to ache.

17 minutes, 18, 19, 20.

He stood, moved to the hatch and waited for a sign to open it. Michael was right and also very stubborn. If he was to delay, refuse to open it, she would wait, run her oxygen low and have no time to return safely. Damn her, he thought. An emotional response, but one he couldn't help. 21, 22. He let out a sigh. 23... "Where are you, Michael," he said out loud. 24... He could feel his heartbeat starting to escalate. It wasn't the virus, it was concern... no... fear. He hit his comm., "Michael?" 25.

Silence.

26.

"Spock! I'm here, let me in."

Spock breathed out in relief. He flicked the release lever and turned the hatch, or attempted to. It clearly hadn't been moved in years. He was weaker than he normally would be as the virus took stronger hold. He pulled and then pushed, finally bracing his feet up against the wall to give himself extra leverage. "Come on!"

"Spock, open up, I mean it. I'm not going back."

"I'm trying," he breathed out. "It's stuck."

"Oh, you can do better than that, Spock. I'll die out here before returning."

It was clear she didn't believe him, thought it was some sort of ploy, but he believed her. That accelerated his heart and his adrenaline spiked. Suddenly there was movement. An inch at first and then a half a turn. An image of Michael floating lifelessly in space flickered through his mind and that was enough to give his strength the boost it needed to turn the hatch fully. Breathless and weakened from the exertion, he pulled the hatch up and open.

Michael climbed the ladder rungs quickly and they both closed the hatch and turned to seal it tight. She looked at him and then threw her arms around him. He returned the hug hesitantly. Logic dictated that while she was in her spacesuit, she was safe from contamination, but irrational fear was niggling away at him. While still in each other's embrace he took the opportunity to ask... request... closer to beg, "Michael, please don't remove your helmet."

Michael pulled back and looked at him again. "I... want..." Tears again filled her eyes.

"Promise me you will remain in the safety of your spacesuit." He felt a hot tear in his own eye. Such an unfamiliar feeling. "Please, Michael. We both can't die down here."

"You're not dying, Spock!" Anger and something closer to betrayal crossed her face. "Don't you dare give up on me."

Spock let out an unintentional sound as a pain that felt like fire ripped through his chest. It took his breath away and he fell to his knees.

"Spock!" Michael cried, kneeling down in front of him. "Hey..." She put gloved hands to his face. "Come on, Baby... breath... stay with me here."

The pain was lasting longer with each attack and he could feel the skin on his body hot and tight, pulling against sinew, nerve endings and bone. It subsided just enough for him to be able to look at her directly. "Did you just call me Baby?" Michael smiled, which was his intent and then she helped him stand and move to sit on a chair. It was clear this was going to be a painful death and while it was bad, it was worse watching the grief in Michael's eyes.

Michael walked to the console. She keyed in data and then a clock appeared on the screen. It was the oxygen levels and the clock was counting down. It surprised him. Maybe opening the hatch had affected his calculations. There was only 3 hours 27 minutes left. He was right. Lack of oxygen would kill him before the disease. It was only then that it occurred to him, Michael would need enough air to space walk back to the main ship. If she was to remain in her helmet and kept breathing her purified air, when it ran out, she would end up suffocating also.

"Michael," he said when she knelt down once again in front of him. "If you remove your helmet, you risk exposure. If you continue to breath from your tanks, you will not have enough to return to the main ship. This room will kill you too. Whether from the disease or suffocation. It was stupid for you to come here. There is only one logical thing to do. You must leave now."

It happened quickly, too fast for Spock to stop it. Michael hit the button on her controls and her helmet retracted. She grabbed his face with both hands and then her lips were to his. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, but all he could do was return the kiss and saver the touch of the woman he loved so desperately. When the kiss finally broke, both their faces were wet.

"I'd rather die with you, than live without you," Michael whispered.

Spock swallowed hard. He had no idea how to navigate what he was feeling. Anger for being so foolish or love for being so loyal. He felt the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. "Michael," he said breathlessly and the tears spilled over.

Michael removed her gloves and lifted a hand to the side of his face. The skin was rough and sagging, but she moved her thumb to swipe the tear away. "Nen lo'kdwenzish, Spock."

Spock placed his hand over hers. Even the skin on his fingers was starting to crinkle and hang down. "Nen lo'kdwenzish, Michael."

Michael moved up and forward, still on her knees to place her head against his chest. He feared the contamination, but he knew to fight this was futile. He slid his arms around her. He could only hope to die first, because watching her suffer was what nightmares were made of. Out of nowhere he berated himself for falling in love at all. So many aspect of this feeling made him weak, but as Michael started to sob into his chest, he realized, the last 5 months of his life had been the most rewarding, the most gratifying and the most satisfying of his entire life. If not for Michael he could never have understood the strength and the power of love.

"Spock, Michael, do you copy?" Captain Pike's voice startled them both.

"Yes, Captain, we are both here," Spock answered.

"I have someone here that may be able to help."

"Hello Mr. Spock, Commander Burnham," A female voice said. "I'm Doctor Fawkner. I'm a biochemical engineer and I have been catching up on all of the research and data you were able to send through. It's quite amazing."

Michael moved back to look up at Spock. "Amazing how?"

"Doctor Kale and his crew where definitely onto something. In fact, it would appear that the virus' mutation for survival could be its undoing."

A spark of something flickered in Michael's eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked as she stood up. A tentative but undeniable look of hope on her face.

"In its attempt to adapt to its surroundings and environment the Vaga introduced nitrogen as one of its core mechanisms. It will continue to reproduce the bacteria while oxygen is present. We... I have a theory and I want to test it."

"Test it? How?" Spock asked, suddenly a little concerned for Michael. He was already infected, but she might not be. If this testing had anything to do with her...

"I'm sending you the plan schematics now." The console next to them lit up. "Commander," Fawkner said. "I need you to find a filter. Any kind of tubing will do. Once the program I have sent you finishes loading plug the tubing into the halfback sensor. It just needs to slide over it. As long as it's touching the sensor, it'll be fine."

Michael started to look around and once again the console beeped. She moved to the lab bench, opening the drawers frantically. It was clear she'd felt a rush of purpose.

Spock was still cautious. "What are we attempting to do, Doctor?"

"If I'm right, I should be able to read any traces of the Vaga virus in the air."

Michael returned to the console with a length of hose from one of the beacons. She quickly started removing the panel to access the halfback sensor. She pushed the rubber over the small coil. "Ok, ok, it's done."

The console lit up again, but this time a series of equations and mathematical formulas started to run on the screen.

"Good," Doctor Fawkner said. "There should be a blue analyse button on the top left hand side of the screen."

"I see it," Michael said, leaning forward, her finger hovering.

"Okay, well... go ahead." Fawkner said, her voice tentative. "If this works, we should be able to read particles PPM... or parts per million. For simplicity sake," Fawkner continued. "Purified air should have a reading of 100PPM or lower. If you were on Earth and breathing smog, it could be 1000PPM. In this case, I have set the sensor to detect the PPM of Vaga."

Michael pushed the blue button on the screen and the screen started to flicker colours. The mathematical equations again started to fill the screen. Then... suddenly it stopped and in red, in the middle of the screen the number 459PPM appeared.

Spock furrowed his brow. If he was understanding this correctly, the virus was in fact in the room and Michael was being exposed. "459," he said, reading what was on the screen.

Doctor Fawkner let out an audible sigh. "That's high, but... if my theory is correct... Commander... go find something... maybe a glove? I want you to rap the glove around the end of the tubing. Make sure it's air tight, then run the scan again."

Michael did what she was told and hit the button. Result 442.

"Good," Fawkner said. "Being air tight mean's that the oxygen, specifically the nitrogen should diminish within the glove over a few minutes. This is all very unsophisticated, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If I'm right, then when all the oxygen is gone, the reading should be zero."

Michael looked at him and he could see her chest heaving in and out. The air in the room was getting thinner. She was feeling it more because she was moving around. He was concerned, even more so now that they were certain she was breathing in the virus too. He wanted to stand, move to her and wrap his arms around her. He wanted to tell her it was all going to be okay, but he couldn't, because it wasn't. If he was following the trail of thought, then it was lack of nitrogen, a key component in oxygen, that was the key to killing this virus. Problem was, it was also a key component to killing them, or at least him. Michael still had oxygen left in her tank and that thought gave him solace.

"Okay," Fawkner said, a moment later. "That should be enough. Run it again."

Michael hit the button and moved to stand beside him. He stood and took hold of her hand as they watched the equations dance across the screen.

114PPM

"Yes!" Doctor Fawkner exclaimed. "It worked."

"I thought you said it should be zero," Michael said.

"You used a glove, yes?"

"Yes."

"Gloves are porous, which means it's not 100% air tight. They're designed to breath, but... It's clear the lack of nitrogen is having the effect we want."

"Okay, well that's good, right?" Michael asked.

There was silence on the other end and then Pike was back. "I know I keep saying this, but hang tight. Doctor Fawkner needs to run some calculations. We'll let you know the next steps soon."

Spock took hold of her, bringing her into his arms. She hadn't thought this through completely yet, but he had and he felt... relieved. Now though, he needed to make sure Michael would not die with him as she'd stated.

"I told you," Michael said, chin to his chest. "I knew they'd find a way."

"Michael."

"We're going to have to let out the air," she continued. "Thank god I brought the suit. We're going to have to buddy breath. 32 minutes left," she was now rambling. Maybe she'd thought it through more than he had realized. "We're still going to need more, or... I guess if the PPM reading comes back zero we can just reopen the vents." She pulled back and smiled.

"Michael."

"That's it. We only need an extra few minutes of air." She gestured toward her tanks. "Which we have, even with the two of us, it'll be plenty."

"Michael!" he said for a 3rd time and with force. "Even if this works, I will not be able to return to Discovery." He brought both hands to the sides of her face. "Promise me... swear to me, that you will." He kissed her, hard, desperate and with passion, before letting go and needing to sit down again. He felt fluid on his face and brought his finger just under his nose. Blood.

"Spock?" Michael grabbed a cloth from the bench and handed it to him, watching him dab and stem the drips of blood. Eyes wide and worried. "You heard them. This is a huge breakthrough. There has to be a way."

Spock did his best to not display the pain he was in, but his eyes couldn't lie. "I'm too far gone, Michael. Look at me. Even with a fully fledged cure..." He lifted his hands to show the dripping skin. "We have to accept this."

"I accept nothing!" Michael flared.

Spock took in a breath and put the cloth on the bench beside him. He stared at her for a moment, trying to work out the best way to approach what he was about to say. In all of this, even though his death was inevitable, she was his concern. She was the only thing he could think about. "Am I correct in saying that you love me, Michael?"

Michael narrowed her eyes. "You know I do."

"Then your safety is my last and final request. If you truly love me, you will fulfil my dying wish."

Michael shook her head. "That is a low blow." Her face contorted with anger. "I don't... I can't live without you."

"Yes you can and you must. Your promise to survive is the only thing that will give me peace." He reached out a hand, but she didn't take it.

Instead she took a step backwards and hit her comm. "Captain? How is Doctor Fawkner doing on those calculations?"

"Nearly done, Michael," Pike replied.

"Correction," Fawkner chimed in. "I have what I need, but..." There was a moment of silence. "You're going to have to let all the air out of the room."

"I figured that," Michael said. "We have 32 minutes of tank air. How long will it take for the virus to die?"

"Once oxygen saturation is zero and assuming I've calculated correctly using the variation because the glove could breath, it should take 2.4 minutes for the virus to be eradicated."

Michael smiled. "What do I need to do?"

"You'll need to open the external and the internal airlocks. Take a reading and I'll monitor oxygen levels. Once it hits zero the countdown will begin. At the end we'll run the Vaga reading. That should be zero too."

"Easy," Michael added looking at Spock. "This should work, right? Kill the virus?"

"It should," Fawkner replied.

"Okay, so... then what? How is this going to help Spock? Find a cure?"

Spock closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He could feel the trickle of blood run down the back of his throat. His organs burned from inside out. It was hard to focus, but Michael was talking about a cure, something he knew was unlikely.

"I'm sorry, Michael," Fawkner continued. "This will purify the air, clear the ship of contaminants which would eliminate the need to destroy it. It will also give you the best chance of remaining virus free."

"And Spock?"

"This method will not cure him, Michael."

"But this is a breakthrough. Surely now a cure is close?" Her tone was high.

"Yes, Michael, it will, but... I'm sorry Mr Spock," she spoke directly to him. "That cure could be weeks, maybe years away."

Spock opened his eyes slowly. "I understand, Doctor."

"Well, I don't," Michael squealed. "We're back to square one. We can't just let him die."

Spock stood up and moved as best he could to stand in front of her. "Michael," he said and placed shaking hands on her shoulders.

She was shaking her head. Tears streaming down her face.

"Michael, look at me."

"No... please... Spock. I can't let you go."

Spock looked above and then back down and into her eyes. He needed to confess the undeniable truth. "I am in pain, Michael. If the truth be told, agony. When you release the air, I will fall unconscious and really, that will be merciful. From there, my brain will shut down in a matter of minutes. I will die, yes, but if I remain alive, share the tank oxygen with you. My death will be many many hours from now and I will suffer. You cannot save me, Michael, but you can show me kindness in this way."

Michael threw her arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably. He could barely stand, but he found the strength to hold her as tight as he could. "You must let me go, Michael. Let me die in peace, knowing you are safe and will go on. Promise me, Michael. Please? It is the last thing I ask of you. Promise me?"

0000000000000000000000000000000000

Michael drew back and swiped the tears away. She looked into his eyes and she could tell, beyond doubt, how much pain he was in. Before she could stop it, before she could think of her own grief, she just wanted to stop his pain, because it was twofold. Vaga caused, but also because she had threatened to die with him. As true as that was, she didn't know how to live without him. That threat had weighed heavily on him and she regretted saying it, for the extra pain it caused, was still causing. "I... I promise."

"Michael," Captain Pike said and it only then occurred to her that their comms had been open all this time. "Spock... my friend." Pike's voice shook. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

"Thank you..." Spock hesitated. "I have also always thought of you as a friend, Chris. Please take care of Michael for me."

Oh my god, Michael thought. This was really happening. Spock never called his captain by their first name. He truly was saying goodbye.

"I will, Spock. You have my word."

"Commander Burnham?" Doctor Fawkner asked. "I've set up the oxygen level readings. Are you ready to open the airlocks?"

Michael looked at the hatch and then back to Spock. She could barely see through the tears. "No... I... I'm not sure I ever will be, but..." She put her hand to the side of Spock's face. Words escaped her. The next 60 seconds were a blur as she moved to release the external hatch lever and then started to turn open the internal one. The moment she lifted it open she felt the vacuum start to pull her and she needed to move back. The force was strong, but not enough that she couldn't reach the console. She pressed the button to monitor the oxygen in the room and felt her legs weaken.

"Close your helmet, Michael," Spock whispered out, before collapsing to the floor.

Michael hit her control and there was an instant gush of oxygen as her helmet enclosed her face. "Spock!" She fell to her knees beside him, taking his head in her hands. He looked up at her and they stared in silence for the next few seconds, before his eyes rolled back and his eyelids closed.

"Oxygen levels zero," Fawkner said. "You need to close the hatch and reset for Vaga levels, Commander."

"Ahh..." Michael let out a frustrated sigh as she stood and closed the hatch, then pressed the blue button on the screen. She didn't want to move from beside Spock, but...

411PPM The colours danced and then a clock started counting down on the screen. 2.4, 2.3, 2.1.

Michael moved back to Spock, this time sitting fully on the floor and placing his head on her knees. "I'm here, Spock. I'm right here. I've got my helmet on and... and I'm okay. Do you hear me?" She was blabbering. Her hand was on his chest and there was the smallest rise and fall, then, suddenly, there wasn't. "Spock," she sobbed and placed her hand against his cheek. It was rough and felt like wax, but she didn't care. "It's okay... it's okay, you're not alone. I'm here. I love you." She glanced at the clock. 1.37, 1.36... This was the longest 2 minutes of her life. She was stuck in the second, feeling his skin against hers. What would she do when the counter hit zero. Then, even if the virus was completely gone, she had no idea what she would do. She'd never thought about a living without the love of her life. She hadn't expected to fall in love with her 'brother' but in hindsight, she'd always been in love with him. The flash of their first hug as kids crossed her mind. That timid touch, that felt so taboo.

"Michael," Pike interrupted her musing. "Is...?" he didn't need to complete the question.

"Yes," she sobbed. "He's not breathing."

"5, 4, 3..." Fawkner started. "2, 1. Hit the button, Commander."

Michael's breaths were short and laboured, but it wasn't due to lack of air. "Oh god," she said out loud as she slid Spock's head from her knees and stood up. She pressed the read button and looked back at Spock. He looked... she squinted... she could still see the pull, but his face seemed somehow less contorted.

"Zero," she said as it came up on the screen. Her voice quiet and listless. It was an empty victory.

"Thank you, Commander. I can confirm the reading and... I am very sorry for your loss. You can open the air vents and remove your helmet if you wish. I am afraid we won't be able to bring you back on board for at least another 48 hours. I hope you understand, you've been exposed and we need to be sure."

The thought of sitting in the same room as her dead lover, made her want to vomit. She pulled the leaver to open the vents, retracted her helmet and again moved to Spock's side. "Wait." Her eyes widened and her hand reached out to touch his face. It was smooth. She grabbed his hand and the skin had returned to normal. "He's cured!" she screamed out. "The lack of oxygen in his body has killed the virus, too!" She looked around, eyes frantically searching.

"Michael," Pike said, voice was full of regret. "He hasn't died for nothing then. This could be the answer and-,"

"The brain can live for up to 4 minutes without oxygen," she said. She move to one of the electric wires at the back of the bench and pulled. "I just need to find a way to restart his heart." She was working fast, dragging the live wire to him. "Come on, Spock." She ripped open his vest to reveal bare skin. "This isn't over yet."

"Michael, what are you doing?" Pike said.

"Positive and negative wires. I'm going to touch them together on his chest. I have to jump start his heart." She pulled the mouthpiece from her air tank and placed it in Spock's mouth, turning the dial all the way up, so it blew hard into his mouth, causing his cheeks to flare.

"Michael, stop. This is too dangerous," Pike said. "We have no idea if the current will come back on you. While it might start Spock's heart, it could stop yours."

"I have to try, Captain," she said and then did exactly that, crossing the exposed part of the wires as she placed them on Spock's chest. There was a bright spark and Spock's body jolted and settled back down.

He was still lifeless and the oxygen pushing into his mouth was still escaping and blowing his cheeks. "I'm going to go again." She crossed the wires as she hit his chest again. Again Spock jolted, but his cheeks stopped flaring. The oxygen was going in. "It worked!" she cried out as she saw a shallow, but definite rise and fall in Spock's chest. His skin was horribly burnt where the electric wires had touched, but she felt not one bit remorseful. He was alive and from what she could see, 100% virus free.

"He... he's alive?" Pike asked.

"Yes! And his skin, it's all normal. He's unconscious, but he's breathing. His heart's beating. He's alive!"

As was the same an hour earlier, Pike forgot, or maybe didn't bother to turn his comm. off. "Doctor Fawkner. I need the codes to the dampeners. I am bringing them aboard."

"I can't do that, Captain. They need to remain isolated on-,"

"You can give me those codes and I can beam them both into the quarantine we have set up in sick bay, or I will send my engineer down there to crack that door code and bring them up that way."

"Captain Pike, I-,"

"You're choice, Doctor!" Pike's voice was full of authority and determination. "Spock came back to us. Burnham brought him back and I'll be damned if that didn't remind me of my Star Fleet oath. We do not leave our crew, our friends. They need medical attention and they're going to get it. Here, on Discovery."

There was a long beat of silence and Michael wondered if Pike had remembered the comm. Then... "Michael... Spock, if you can hear me. Prepare to beam up."

Michael took hold of both of Spock's hands and squeezed. "Did you hear that..." She smiled. "... Baby... We're going home."

THE END