"Stats are all normal, but his white blood cell count is elevated," McCoy frowned.

"Like he is fighting an infection?" asked nurse Chapel.

"Precisely," answered McCoy who continued to stare at the scanner as if he looked away, Spock's vitals would plummet again. "Let's see if Kirk knows anything." He glanced at Christine. She pouted and reluctantly left Spock's side and tapped the button.

When the elevator doors swished open Kirk furled inside himself. The crew stared at him. Kirk cleared his throat tentatively, and suppressed a yelp as it felt like razors dragged themselves inside his esophagus.

"I'll take over from here, Mr. Chekov," he rasped.

Chekov swiveled out of the chair, and held it's back while Kirk lowered himself into it. They met eyes, and when Chekov's eyes wandered to Kirk's neck, Kirk shot him a warning look. Chekov stumbled and found his way back to his station and began busying himself with random papers on his switchboard.

"Status report?"

"Captain, we are a little less than seven days away from the Star Base. We are on course, and only a few days behind schedule," said Sulu with his normal hint of enthusiasm.

Kirk constricted his arm rest, and tried to relax into his chair, but found he couldn't. Suddenly, a voice rang out on the bridge, and Kirk nearly leapt from his seat to answer it.

"Bridge," mumbled the distinct, but very distracted voice of Nurse Chapel. She had not taken her eyes off the Vulcan who shifted slightly in his uneasy sleep, his head lolling side to side.

"Bridge, Kirk here," said Kirk slightly confused.

Chapel? Why wasn't Bones contacting him? Maybe Spock was critical and McCoy's hands were full? He knew Spock wasn't dead. If he was, Bones would have called him down to sick bay. He shuddered. He couldn't picture his first officer lying cold and dead. He was burning up, a personal space heater an hour ago. The only force strong enough to bring Spock down was a hypo, or a phaser set to kill. It took a lot to knock the Vulcan off his feet. Kirk couldn't imagine that a little virus would do him in. He hoped that's all it was, but he knew deep down it was something bigger than that.

"Jim, was Spock injured on any of the trips you took recently?" asked Chapel.

"No-but," started Kirk.

"No flesh wounds he might have sustained while aboard the ship?" chimed McCoy.

Kirk visibly sank in his chair, dizzy with relief to hear Bones' voice, calm and even.

"None to my knowledge-but," said Kirk.

"Nurse what did the lab results say," continued McCoy. Kirk leaned closer to the speaker. Bones was leaving Kirk hanging.

"Bones! Howishe?" blabbered Kirk.

"What Jim?" asked McCoy patiently.

"Is…Spock…okay?" repeated Kirk.

"He is stable for now."

"What is it?" asked Kirk. He needed to know what could possibly have overtaken the Vulcan.

"Not sure, Jim," said McCoy absentmindedly. He heard Chapel conversing with Bones in hushed tones. Sensing the captain's distress he continued, "but, I'll keep you-" McCoy was cut off by a shrill shriek.

"What?" asked a panicked Kirk. He shifted in his seat, leaning down towards the receiver, his fingers hovering over the button to summon security.

"Oh my god," breathed McCoy.

"What? What?" yelled Kirk. The other personnel had turned to look at their captain, who was looking desperately at the receiver.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I've got to handle this. I'll update you as soon as I can."

The line clicked, and Kirk's panting echoed on the bridge. For a few minutes everyone just sat at their station, too dazed to continue working. It was liked they were all wishing to be woken up from this nightmare. They blinked and looked at Spock's empty chair sadly. It was only when the Enterprise started to veer off course that Kirk spoke.

"Maintain course for Star Base 1851, Mr. Sulu."

"Aye, sir," replied Sulu, his usual springy tone having been replaced for a distracted, and solemn one.

Back in Sickbay, Spock was bleeding from his eyes. Nurse Chapel was shaking, and refused to look. A normal doctor would be puzzled, even intrigued by the green substance seeping out of the corner of Mr. Spock's eyes. But Nurse Chapel knew a Vulcans blood was green. Therefore, she was horrified by the grotesque image before her. McCoy on the other hand was ecstatic. This symptom he could work with. He nonchalantly dabbed the green blood out of the corners of the Vulcan's eyes, and squirted saline into them. More blood continued to trickle and pool near the bridge of Spock's nose, but McCoy payed it no mind. He whistled a jazz tune to himself while he worked and forgot himself for a moment. He quickly administered a hypo and went to sit with Christine. Curls of blonde hair had come undone, and her bun was straggly and tangled. Her eyes were red rimmed, and wide. McCoy slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his chest. She hiccupped and sniffled loudly, but McCoy just patted her head with one hand, and rubbed soothing circles on her back with the other. Eventually she fell silent. McCoy let the silence hang in the air for a few moments, reveling in the calm, and relief. At last they had a diagnosis! Not an easy one, but answers at last!

"You know what this means, don't you?" McCoy asked.

Christine straightened up, and began dabbing at her eyes.

"I…I..should go check on him."

"You will stay right here nurse," said McCoy with finality. He rose and shuffled towards Spock's biobed.

McCoy dabbed at a fresh trickle of blood from Spock's eyes and sighed. He crumbled the used gauze in his gloved hand and threw it away quickly before Nurse Chapel started sniffling again. McCoy rifled through a glass medicine cabinet and found a hypo with some orange liquid sloshing around inside. He administered it to Spock and went to sit with Christine again.

"Andorian Shingles, doctor?"

"Yes, nurse."

"When will he wake?"

"Why am I so itchy?" came a raspy voice.