He makes his way to medical bay in a matter of moments, once the pieces connect. Because Spock had does as he always had. Followed protocol. Ensured some semblance of stability, informed the necessary parties, requested further information, made effort to establish communication. Three unanswered replies left only one viable course of action- to seek the man out himself. When the doors hiss open and the vulcan steps inside however, the sight does soften the iron line of his shoulders.

It isn't something he would categorize as relief, regardless.

The young captain isn't yet conscious, but a glance to his vitals spell out the diagnosis for him. Nothing critical and nothing recognizable. Spock's gaze flicks from the report, to the man himself, before casting behind him- to the remainder of the room. Empty, at present, but for how much longer?