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Title: Healer
Author: Jazz Man
Series: TOS
Rating: PG
Codes: S, Mc
Parts: 1/2
Summary: Kirk has fallen ill and Spock and McCoy must work together to
bring him back to health.

Disclamer:  Paramount owns everything, I claim only the plot (plot?
what's that?).

Healer - Part 1
  Jazz Man

        It was supposed to be just another ordinary mission, nothing
dangerous.  Deliver medical supplies to an outlying colony then return
to Starbase 41.  Not even a job worthy of the Enterprise and certainly
not hazardous.  Or at least that's what Starfleet had said.
        They were just asking for trouble and that's exactly what they
got.  Jim Kirk had gone and caught himself a disease, and a nasty one at
        Well damn Starfleet and damn Spock for letting him go down
there, thought   McCoy.  Glaring across his desk at Spock he changed his
mind.  No need to damn Spock, he's already doing that himself.
        "There was nothing you could have done to stop it, Spock."
        The Vulcan looked up, "I am aware of that Doctor and it is
illogical to believe otherwise.  Now, how is he?"
        "His condition is stable for the moment and we have diagnosed
what is wrong."
        "Is it curable?"
        "He has a disease called Bini Syndrome.  It causes severe brain
damage if left untreated.  His readings are stable, for the moment . .
        "Then what is the problem?"
        McCoy sighed, "I've tried all known cures with no response."
        "That should cause you no problem, Doctor," said Spock rising,
"Now, if there was nothing else?"
        McCoy shook his head, no.
        "Good," he said walking out of the Doctor's office.
        Not even a suggestion of my incompetence, thought McCoy sadly,
maybe he is as close to Jim as rumour suggests.

        "Yes, Doctor?"
        "Do you have the results of the tests I asked you for?"
        "Yes, Doctor.  The results are negative.  No response to the
        "Thank you, nurse."

        McCoy had come to a conclusion.  There was only one more thing
he could try.

        "Spock,  I need your help."
        Silence as Spock looked up from his meal.  "Doctor are you
feeling quite well?"
        "Yes, damn it," said McCoy scowling.
        "Jim," it wasn't a question.
        McCoy nodded, "No progress."
        "What makes you think I would be able to help?"
        "You're a healer aren't you.  That's why you call my medicine
barbaric, Vulcan techniques are so different, more refined."
        "True," said Spock returning his attention to the food on his
        "On which account?"
        McCoy already knew the answer before Spock answered, "Both
Doctor.  I am a healer of some moderate skill.  However, it is not often
I have to call on these skills except for myself.  I am unsure what
assistance I could be."
        The doctor leaned closer, "Nothing is helping Jim.  At this
point I am willing to try anything.  Considering the bond you and he
have I thought it might be worth a try."
        "Of what bond are you referring to?" asked Spock suspiciously.
        McCoy blushed, "Well, rumour has it . . ."
        "It is often unwise to listen to rumour.  On the other hand it
can be accurate," he paused, considering how to continue, "Whilst it is
true that the Captain and I share a type of bond, it is not perhaps the
type you think.  On Vulcan there are many types of bond.  The kind akin
to marriage is the most sacred and has happened since ancient times.
There are many others."
        "And the bond you share with the Captain?"
        "Is a bond of brotherhood.  We agree to protect each others
safety.  Jim is so determined to damage himself that I believe this to
be necessary to his continued well being."
        "Then you should have no problem helping him."
        "I should have no problem, yes, but . . ."
        "There are no buts about it Spock, if you can help then you have
        "As you wish, Doctor."

        All his readings are stable . . . surely McCoy could find a cure
on his own . . . there would be no need for me to interfere . . . NO . .
. my Captain must come first in all matters . . . MY life is irrelevant
compared with HIS survival . . . the needs of the MANY outweigh the
needs of the few.

        When McCoy walked into sickbay Spock was already there.  He
stood at the foot of Kirk's bed in deep thought.
        "Spock, are you ready?"
        He took a moment to acknowledge the doctor, "I am prepared."
        McCoy let out a sigh of relief, "For a while I thought you were
going to back out."
        "No, I am decided."
        The doctor nodded. "How do we start?"
        "One of the first things that a healer will try is to enter the
injured person into a healing trance.  I am unsure who this would work
with a human, but we should try."
        "What do you need?"
        "Privacy, for both my own and Jim's benefit."
        "All right we can move him into one of the private rooms."
        "We, Doctor?"
        "You don't think I'm letting you try this without constant
        "No, I do not.  It would, however, be easier without
        "Rubbish, Spock."

        The room was to warm for McCoy, not that he would admit it to
the Vulcan.  Spock stood off to the side preparing himself for the link.
If all went well Kirk should start to improve, if not they would have to
find another way.
        "I am ready," said Spock moving to Kirk's side.
        "If anything goes wrong, break contact immediately, Spock."
        "Yes, doctor."
        Spock gently placed his fingers on the meld points and closed
his eyes.  He then entered the healing trance.  The part of his mind not
devoted to this silently 'asked' permission to enter Kirk's mind.  He
got no response.  Spock would not enter the mind of another without
permission, but this was surely different.  This was healing the other,
not invading the mind.
        He was saved the decision by the almost non-existent answer he
received through the mind link.  Yes.
        Spock visibly relaxed and McCoy let out the breath he had not
realised he had been holding.
        Spock strengthened the link and entered Kirk's mind.
        In his minds eye he saw a expanse of land unknown to him, Kirk's
was an unfamiliar mind.  It was hot and dry, plants were shrivelled up.
One area in particular was barren, the disease.  For the moment he left
it.  What he was to do now was send this land into winter so that spring
would come and the mind could heal.
        In Spock's mind it started to snow.  In only moments the ground
was covered in pure white.  Then the sun came out and the snow melted
almost as quickly as it had appeared.
        Kirk's human mind had rejected the trance.  Spock tried once
more with the same result and then exited the trance and link.
        "Well, what happened?" asked McCoy nervously.
        "The Captain's mind rejected the trance," said Spock opening his
        "But he let you try, right?"
        "Yes, but his mind is very weak.  You understand, doctor, that
if the Captain does not let me enter his mind I will not do so."
        "Yes," said McCoy sighing, "I do.  But lets just hope it doesn't
come to that."

        By evening Kirk's vital signs were beginning to deteriorate.

        McCoy stood nervously outside Spock's quarters.  He wanted to
know what else they could do for the Captain.  The thing that troubled
him was Spock's earlier reticence.
        McCoy walked in.
        "Doctor McCoy, how can I help you?"
        Bolder McCoy moved closer to Spock's desk, "I want to know what
else we can do for Jim."
        The Vulcan hesitated.
        "There is something we can do, is isn't there?"

End Part 1
Jazz Man

Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: NEW:TOS"Healer"[PG](S, Mc)2/2
From: Jazz Man <>
Date: Sun, 26 Sep 1999 13:45:33 +0100
For disclamer and summery see part 1

Healer - Part 2
  Jazz Man

        It seemed to be an eternity until Spock replied, "Yes."
        McCoy breathed a sigh of relief.
        "But," warned Spock, "It will be difficult.  Normally two
healers are required.  Also this last time I did this I was the
secondary healer."
        "Spock, how many people are there in this room?"
        "Two, doctor.  Why?"
        McCoy continued, ignoring the question, "How many physicians?"
        "Only one, yourself."
        "Right, now what did they used to call physicians," McCoy
paused, "Healers, Spock, healers."
        Spock's eyebrow raised, "Are you suggesting that you participate
in a Vulcan healing rite?"
        "That's sure what it sounded like over here."
        "Yes, doctor, I'm sure it does.  But you are unaware of what it
will involve - "
        "Spock, at this moment I don't care if it means I turn green and
grow horns.  Jim is getting weaker, soon there will be nothing we can do
and no way to restore the brain damage being caused."
        Spock nodded, "Agreed, although I think you mean ears."
        "Since it seems you were referring to Vulcans I would suspect
you meant ears rather than horns."
        "From over here they look like horns."
        "Yes, doctor, I'm sure they do," said Spock with just a glint of
humour in those dark eyes.

        "Doctor, for this to work you must relax."
        "I'm trying, Spock, it's just that . . . well . . ."
        Spock caught McCoy's gaze, "Do you trust me?"
        "Of course," said McCoy indignant.
        "Then you know that I would do nothing to harm you," his dark
eyes were full of sincerity.
        "I know, Spock, I know."
        "You also know that for this to have the remotest chance of
success we must form a mind link."
        McCoy nodded.
        Taking that as assent Spock continued.  He reached out with his
left hand and gently touched his fingers to the meld points. He then
motioned McCoy to do the same.
        "My mind to your mind, your thoughts to my thoughts."
        Unwillingly McCoy found himself repeating the words.
        <Doctor, do you allow me to enter into a mind link and a work
bond with you?>
        <Yes . . . how does this work, Spock?>
        <I will enter the first level of your mind and create a link to
the first level of my own mind.  We will know all that is contained in
the first part of the mind.>
        <And what is that?>
        <The way we wish others to see us.>

        Suddenly McCoy found himself in the middle of a desert.  To his
left, in the distance were dark and foreboding mountains.  At his feet a
small stream that seemed slightly out of place trickled past.
        "Where am I?" he muttered to himself.  Spock's mind, came the
reply. "Spock's mind?" asked McCoy reaching down and running his hand
through the sand.
        The sand shimmered and formed into images.
        First, Spock at his post answering the Captain's unasked
question.  Then in a moment of humour in the mess, Spock unmoved by the
        Emotionless, thought McCoy, the 'perfect' Spock.
        The final image was Spock handing in a report to Kirk.  Kirk had
looked up obviously pleased.  Spock was almost smiling.
        The images ended and McCoy was left alone in the desert.
        For Spock the transition was less sudden, mainly because he had
been expecting it. But that still didn't change the effect of what he
        He found himself standing at the edge of a clear blue lake.  The
water looked deep, yet remained clear as far as could be seen.  To a
Vulcan this was priceless, all this water. To find it in McCoy's mind
was even more so.
        Absently Spock reached down to trail his fingers in the water.
        The water rippled, images forming from the point where Spock's
hand had been.
        McCoy, head bent over the operating table working on delicate
surgery.  In his office finishing paperwork, looking up and inviting the
person at the door in.  Listening intently to the crewmember's problem,
no matter how small it seemed.
        Slowly this last vision faded leaving Spock alone.
        It was a sudden jolt to both men as they returned to sickbay.
        "What was that?"
        "That, doctor, was a mind link.  A very intense mind link," said
Spock, looking down at his hands and the water there.
        Now all they had to do was wait until the link became strong
enough for McCoy to initiate contact from a distance.  Then it would be
strong enough to purge Kirk of the illness within him.

        Spock was on the bridge when McCoy 'spoke' to him.  He had been
speaking to a young ensign.
        <Spock, you up there?>
        Spock closed his eyes, <Yes, doctor.  Are you prepared?>
        <I am.>
        Spock opened his eyes and left the bridge.
        "Aye, sir," said the ensign, raising an eyebrow.

        The door behind him  whooshed open.  McCoy did not need to turn
around having sensed who it was. <Spock.>
        <Yes> "Is all ready?" asked Spock.
        "Yes, Jim is in one of the private rooms.  We can begin as soon
as you wish."
        "Then we should prepare.  You know what must be done.  I will
attempt to force the illness out of Jim's body and contain it myself.
Your job is to break the link if something goes wrong and to then
dissipate the illness in my body."
        McCoy took a deep breath, "That's one tall order."
        "True, but it may work and that is all that matters," even over
my life, he added to himself.
        "Good luck."
        Spock paused, "Thank you."
        An awkward silence descended, broken only when McCoy led Spock
into the room where Kirk was.
        Spock walked over to where Kirk lay.  "Doctor, if anything seems
to be wrong stop the mind link."
        McCoy nodded, "Understood.  Break the mind link, but not the
physical link."  McCoy paused, "Ready?"
        "Affirmative," said Spock reaching a hand out to Kirk and
placing his fingers on the meld points.

        Spock was once again plunged into the barren mind of his
captain.  The first thing he had to do was to find the illness.
        A few metres in front of him the few plants that had been there
had died.
        "The illness," came McCoy's voice from within the link.
        Now the illness had to be removed.
        Spock started to dig around the edges of the barren area.  After
a short while a tough, leathery skin appeared - the illness had been
located.  Spock began to dig more furiously but still with infinite care
so as to not pierce the skin.

        For McCoy each moment was agony.  He wanted to shout at the
Vulcan to slow his frantic pace, but at the same time he wanted Spock to
speed up.  He wished he could help remove the illness from his friend,
to make him whole again.

        Spock had removed the illness from the ground.  Now he had to
contain it within his own mind.
        He found himself in the desert, McCoy standing in front of him.
        "Doctor, now."
        McCoy nodded and moved forward.  He had to dissipate the illness
and contain it. He attached the long tube in his hand to a large
spherical container made of what looked like obsidian.  This now had to
be plugged into the brown lump that was the illness.
        Before McCoy could do anything, Spock fell to his knees and
dropped the mass.
        "Spock," shouted McCoy lunging forward to reach the Vulcan.
        The illness had split.  McCoy had to chose, capture the illness
or help Spock.
        "Get it," whispered Spock closing his eyes and shutting out the
        Quickly McCoy plugged the tube into the rip in the leathery
hide.  He turned the container and felt the illness spread into the
unyielding stone.
        Next he turned his attention to Spock.  The Vulcan was
unconscious.  McCoy had to break the link, to return to reality.

        McCoy found himself back in sickbay.  With a brief glance to
Kirk's vitals he crossed to Spock.  He lent down and, with a strength
that on reflection he felt not to be his own, lifted the Vulcan up.
        He walked into the main area of sickbay and called on a nurse.
        "Nurse, administer the cure for Bini Syndrome.  If something
goes wrong I'll be in surgery."
        "Aye, sir."

        It took five hours for McCoy to correct the damage done to Kirk.
Even then he could not be sure how successful the surgery had been.  Now
he had to check on Spock.
        Looking at the board above Spock's head he found that the cure
had begun to take effect.
        Spock would want to know how his Captain was.  McCoy wanted to
tell him now, to help his recovery.  And to stop the need for him to see
Kirk when Spock regained consciousness.
        McCoy reached down to brush a lock of hair out of Spock's eyes.
He felt a sudden jolt of energy and pulled back.
        "What . . . the mind link?" he said shaking his head.  "That's
how I can tell Spock."
        McCoy placed his fingers on the meld points and hesitantly
asked, <Spock?>
        <Doctor? . . .>
        <So you are in there.  You're doing well, should be consious
        <That would be . . . preferable.  Jim?>
        <He's fine.>

        It took Jim Kirk three days to recover from the surgery.  In a
week he would be back on the bridge.
        Spock recovered in less time and after four days in sickbay was
ready to return to light duty.
        "Now, Spock, don't tire yourself out.  You've been through a lot
in these past few days."
        "As have you, doctor."
        McCoy huffed, "I've been through worse."
        "Perhaps, but the statement remains true," Spock glanced at the
floor and then up at McCoy again, "Doctor, would you, purely for the
purpose of recovery, care to join me this evening for a meal?"
        McCoy looked at him, "Why would you want to eat with someone as
incompetent as me?"
        "Perhaps, doctor, you are not as incompetent as I had first
        McCoy smiled, "And maybe I don't really mind that your a green-
blooded, pointy eared . . ."  Before he could finish Uhura entered the
        "What was that, Doctor McCoy?"
        "Uh . . ."
        "The Doctor called me a green-blooded, pointy eared, and then I
did not hear his final word."
        "What was going to say is not fit to be said in front of a
        "Well I'm here to see the captain, so I'll leave you to it." She
paused, leaning on the door frame, "Don't stay up too late, boys." And
then she was gone, laughing.
        McCoy shook his head, "How does she do it, Spock?"
        "I do not know.  Now I must leave also," said Spock walking to
the door.
        "Spock," he turned, "Yes."
        "I'd love to meet you tonight."