A/N: trigger warning for rough language, hints/themes of abuse, detailed description of wounds/injury and blood

"FUCK!" Kirk roared, whipping the bin across the room and watching the flimsy plastic shatter upon impact with the wall.

"Jim!" Bones snapped "this is supposed to be a stealth mission"

"The place is empty, Bones, I don't care" Kirk took a deep breath, "We'll have to keep looking"

"Jim, just exactly how do you plan on doing that? We have no tracking tools, no map, this whole building is a damn maze, he could be anywhere" Bones snarled,

"There's gotta be something. Some sort of organizational system, we'll find him that way" Kirk crossed the room and picked up the large fragments of the shattered bin, leaving the commander's uniforms on the ground.

There, on the back panel of the bin that was pressed against the wall, a code of sorts.

"Here, this. Maybe it'll match up with something else and it'll lead us to him. Like an ID code" Jim hoped.

"It's a pretty slim chance Jim-"

"It's better than nothing!... We use the ID code. Captain's orders"

Bones muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath that might've included a mention of 'regulation 619' but dutifully followed behind Jim and Maridez.

Phaser in one hand, ID code in the other, Kirk worked his way down the hall, checking the pattern against all the other doors along the wall.

He was maybe 50 meters down the hall when he finally found a match. The window of the door was frosted so he couldn't see if Spock was inside, but he saw the shadowy outline of a figure and his heart soared.

He fumbled for the tricorder, working the same technical skills he had earlier to get into the wrong room to get into the (hopefully) right one.
Within seconds, he had the door open and swung it open.

There, curled up against the wall was Spock.

Even to kirk's medically untrained eye Spock looked awful. Green blood staining his alien issue slacks and rough shirt. Lacerations decorated what skin was visible from his collar and three quarter sleeves.

"Spock!" Kirk shouted, part relief, part worry, but he became even more concerned when Spock didn't respond.

Before Kirk could even give the order, bones deftly plucked the tricorder from Kirk's hand and crouched beside the mute Vulcan.

Kirk tried, he really did, to stay out of the way and let Bones do his job, but his curious nature coupled with his concern for his first officer had him bursting with questions.

"Why isn't he responding?"

"I'm trying to figure that out Jim, goddamnit. Either disorientation from a concussion or head trauma, or mute from emotional trauma. But then again, this is the hobgoblin, so most likely head trauma"

"Is he gonna be okay"

"Absolutely" bones snapped, his voice dripping in sarcasm, "now please take a goddamn step back and give me room to work!"

Kirk quietly slipped back, looking over his shoulder, he saw Maridez keeping watch at the doorway.

As Kirk did his best to stay out of Bones' way, he couldn't help the panic flaring in his chest every time he considered the possibility that Spock might indeed, not, be okay.