Title: That's My Boy
Series: TOS, AU
Spock is injured in an away mission. McCoy and Kirk have to
help him cope with it. Mostly McCoy.
Disclaimer: I don't
own TOS. I never have, and I never will. Star
Trek and all of its relations are property of Paramount and Viacom. I
own this story. Anybody who has a problem with the thought of
men in homosexual relationships with each other, please stay
Flames and feedback are welcome. Please ask before putting this
Author's Notes: I realize that's
probably the worst summary in the
universe. Let me explain why. I can't go into details about how and
what and when
and why because then I've ruined the story. It might
not be a good story, but I tried. It's interesting. I blame
to television and too much time on my hands for this
idea. Bonus points to whoever, after reading this, knows what I'd
watching that made me think of this. I apologize if this is sad.
I don't think it's sad, but I also live in a cave and
so I don't have to pay for alcohol. Please don't hurt me.
October 7, 2004
"Standard orbit, Mr. Sulu. Mr. Chekov,
keep our shields up."
Captain Kirk leaned forward in his chair, peering at the center
screen. "Status of the planet,
Spock turned towards his library computer and read for a few
minutes, repeating the information to the
bridge crew. "Classic M-
class planet, Captain, with a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, gravity
98.2% of Earth. The planet
has a humanoid population, little is known
about them, aside from that they have evidently not achieved space
they stand between our territory and that of the Klingon
Empire," Kirk mused to himself. He sighed and stood up from his
walking to stand beside the bar separating the bridge. "Well,
Mister Spock, our mission is to seek out new life and civilizations.
you feel up to leading the away team?"
"As always, Captain."
Kirk nodded at the Vulcan and walked back to his
chair, engaging the ship-wide intercom. "Lieutenant Jackson and
Ensign Evans from Security please report to
the transporter room.
Lieutenant Phillips from Sciences please report to the transporter
room." Kirk looked up at Spock
with a smile. "They're all yours, Mr.
Spock. Have fun down there."
Spock walked towards the turbolift, his eyebrow
raising as he
retorted. "Fun, Captain? I assure you this is in the name of duty."
The doors open and he entered.
keep saying that-" Kirk sighed, as the doors closed
again, keeping him from his response.
In the transporter room, the away team had assembled
themselves, waiting for their Vulcan
leader. Evans tucked his phaser
on his belt and turned to Jackson. "Unknown peoples on this planet,
do you really think
we should be beaming down?"
Jackson gave him a friendly pat on the back, and then stepped
up onto one of the transporter
pads. "Discovery is our job, remember?
Besides, we have Mister Spock coming with us, and of course, we got
here to track the biology, isn't that right Aaron?"
Phillips chuckled as he stepped up onto the pad beside
calibrating his tricorder with one hand, as he made a muscle
with his other arm. "Oh yeah, certainly. We boys from sciences
great fighters. If you get scared, just use me as a human shield."
Evans nodded; he couldn't help but grin,
and stepped up onto
one of the pads as well. "Thanks."
Phillips nodded, his hands going behind his back. "Sure,
are mad scientists for?"
The two security officers began to laugh, and at that moment,
Spock walked in,
a tricorder slung over his shoulder and a phaser in
his hand. "Prepared, gentlemen?"
Phillips gave a nod of his
head, as Evans and Jackson each
chimed in with an "Aye, Sir."
Spock stepped up onto the transporter pad. "Very well.
He said to the transporter chief. And within seconds,
their forms had dissolved, and they were gone.
paced the bridge, checking the chronometer
again. "Uhura, is there a response from the away team yet?"
officer shook her head, "I'm sorry, Sir,
Kirk tried to resist his frustration, but gave in, slamming
hand down on the back of his chair. "Dammit. They've been down
there four hours without checking in." He sighed and turned
Chekov, who had taken over Spock's science console. "Get me a reading
on the away team, Mr. Chekov."
Captain." The young, navigator's head bent over the
panel as he checked the scanners, only to pop up again a moment
"Captain, there's something wrong with the away team's life
signs. I can get a reading, but not a clear one."
made a low noise of irritation. "You're sure, Chekov?"
"That's it." Kirk tapped the intercom. "Kirk
"Transporter room, Kyle here," came the immediate reply.
"Mr. Kyle, get a lock on the
away team, and beam them up,
now." Kirk could not emphasize the last word enough.
"Yes, Sir." The intercom was cut
and Kirk sighed, sinking
back in his chair, his forehead resting in his palm.
The respite was short-lived, for no
more than three minutes
later; there came another beep from the intercom. "What is it, Mr.
The voice on
the other end of the comm. was shaky. "Sir...the
away team isn't moving. I called for some orderlies to take them to
be down there in a minute." Kirk slammed the button
down and stood from his chair. "Sulu, you have the con." He walked
the turbolift and bolted inside when the doors opened.
Sulu and Chekov exchanged a glance, and Uhura set about
to comm. chatter from deck five.
The doors to sickbay swooshed open
and Kirk entered, looking
for McCoy. "Bones?" he queried, walking towards the surgical area.
"Not now, Jim. I just
sent my orderlies out. Kyle said
there's some problem with the away team." The doctor was changing
himself quickly into
scrubs and running his hands under the
"Bones, I don't want you to be shocked, but Spock was on
McCoy was facing away from Kirk at the time, his expression
unable to be read. "Spock's a big
boy, Jim. I'm sure he'll be fine.
Besides, this was just an isolated planet, right? We've seen him
Kirk started, but was interrupted with the
orderlies leading four biobeds into sickbay, sheets drawn up on three
them to cover the faces of the occupants.
McCoy rushed to meet the orderlies, all doctor now.
Kirk moved to
McCoy's office, getting out of the way to let
off his outer scrubs, his emotions threatening to
take control of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he made his
into his office.
Kirk met him with a cup of coffee. "How's it look, Bones?"
McCoy took the cup gratefully and
had a sip, falling into his
desk chair. "Not good. Phillips, Jackson, and Evans are dead. Some
sort of brain hemorrhaging
as far as I can tell."
Kirk nodded, keeping silent for a moment, the weight of three
dead crewmembers heavy on his
shoulders. Finally, he spoke. "And
McCoy did not respond right away. Finally, he took in a deep
"I...I don't rightly know, Jim. He has extensive neurological
injury. Thankfully, the Vulcan construction of his brain
from death, but until he's awake, I can't tell you the extent of the
Kirk sighed. "Will he
"We can only hope. I'll take care of him right now. You need
to work on the letters to the families."
was one of Kirk's least favorite of all his duties. "I
know. Let me know when he wakes up, Bones." Then Kirk turned and
Kirk made his way back to the bridge. Two distraught spouses
had been notified and a
devastated set of parents. He had offered the
sincerest condolences he could and had taken full responsibility for
happened, had given a full explanation of what had happened and
had sent for two men from ship's stores to box the personal
and send them at the next outpost.
He sighed wearily as he took his seat. "Sulu, take us out of
Set course for Starbase 23, warp factor 4."
"Aye, Captain, warp factor 4." Sulu's fingers flew over his
could feel the heavy atmosphere of the bridge. Everybody
was concerned but nobody was going to ask questions. There was
than one hour left in the duty shift; he only needed things to go
smoothly until the end of shift. Then the crew
could get the relief
they needed and could all go to sickbay to ask as many questions as
they wanted about Spock and
The bridge carried on in silence. Kirk stared at the main
screen, Uhura monitored subspace chatter
and Sulu and Chekov were
exchanging quiet looks in a silent bet of who was going to ask the
Captain for information
first. The whistle of the comm. sliced
through the tension. "Sickbay to Captain Kirk."
That wasn't McCoy's voice.
Kirk was growing concerned. "Kirk
"This is Doctor M'Benga, Captain. Doctor McCoy requests your
in sickbay. He says make it quick."
"I'm on my way. Tell him to hang on." Kirk punched the "off"
switch and hopped
from his chair, heading once more to the turbo
lift. "Sulu, take the bridge." When the closed on him, and the
set into motion, he let out a sigh. *This better be good
The doors opened again and he strode towards the
Upon entering, Kirk made his way to the Intensive Care area when he
felt a restraining hand on his shoulder.
He turned his head to meet
the eyes of M'Benga. "Captain, Doctor McCoy told me to stay out here
and keep you from barging
in. He'll be out in a minute."
Kirk opened his mouth to say something, but M'Benga
interrupted him. "Don't make
Len any more stressed than he already
Kirk nodded. "All right, I'll wait."
The wait was not a long one,
when McCoy came out of the unit,
and sighed. "Well, Jim, he's awake."
Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. "That's great
The doctor gave a shake of his head. "Not exactly." He turned
to M'Benga. "Geoff, can you go make
the rounds on the other patients
and remind the nurses that the shift will be over soon, and they
deserve to take a
M'Benga nodded and headed back into the other area of
sickbay, leaving the two men to themselves.
right, Bones, what makes it 'not exactly' good?" Kirk
stared down his friend, not willing to take a coddled answer from
"He's awake, Jim. His five senses seem to be working well
enough. His sixth sense, however, seems impaired
to the point that
his ESPER rating is bouncing back and forth between average human
range and a range that is normal
for the average Betazoid. He has no
ability to control it. He has no ability to control his emotions
right now. And
his cognitive functions are reminiscent of a small
child, maybe 4 or 5 years old. The good part of this is that he does
the sickbay and can identify people. But it's...well, if he
could fully understand the circumstance, he'd be pretty miserable,
situation, really Jim. And this is all because he was spared
death by hemorrhaging."
Kirk wanted to react, but he
could tell from his friend's
tone just how terrible he was feeling. So he tried to stay in the
role of the Captain.
"Can you ask for a Vulcan Mind Healer to come to
the ship to help with therapy? Or maybe send Spock back to Vulcan?"
don't think that will help, Jim. This isn't a
psychological cause. It's purely physical and you know how the
get about non-psychological medicine. We'll just have to take
his therapy nice and slow and see where it goes from there."
nodded. There had been a reason he hadn't gone into
medicine. "Can I see him, Bones?"
McCoy shook his head. "Not
the way he is now. For him I can't
let anybody see him. When he's a little better I'll allow non-medical
visit. But not now."
Kirk sighed and forced a tight smile. "I understand, Bones. I
won't ask again. I can tell how
this is bothering you. But when shift
ends, how about I get you a cup of Saurian Brandy and you, me,
Scotty, Sulu, and
Chekov organize a poker game? M'Benga's welcome
McCoy shook his head again. "Maybe, Jim, I'll see what's what
everything's settled here. And I'll get you a report on the
"All right, Bones, but don't drive
yourself crazy." Kirk
turned around and walked out of sickbay, forcing himself into Captain
mode, knowing the crew would
have questions for him when he returned
to the bridge.
as the Captain left, and then walked back into
Spock's room. It was isolated from the rest of sickbay, so he could
the Vulcan from the eyes of patients and visitors. His face took
on a gentle smile as he returned to Spock's bed. "Hiya."
lay atop the biobed. The sheet was pulled around his
body and his limbs were tied down with medical restraints. His eyes
slightly glassy, and his head was bandaged. He tried to move his
hand but couldn't. Instead, he looked up at McCoy. The
his face unmasked, raw emotion in his features and the look itself
McCoy pulled up
a chair and sat next to the Vulcan. He ran
his hand over Spock's cheek, keeping his voice gentle. "I'm sorry,
but we need to keep you still. I know you're scared and you
want to move, and when you're checked out of sickbay and we're
in our quarters, you can move all you like."
Spock moved his lips in response, but no sound emerged.
bent in closer. "What, Spock?"
"Le-Leonard...I'm cold." His voice was meek. Although it was
the same low baritone,
it had a tinge of childishness to it.
"I'll get you some more blankets, Spock. Those should warm
you right up."
McCoy went to the small closet where linins were kept
and got out a couple of blankets, Starfleet issue for medical
the use of. He spread them out on Spock's form and lovingly
tucked him in. "That better?"
Spock gave a slight nod
of his head. "Will you stay?"
McCoy nodded too, the smile on his face growing ever so
slightly. "As long as you
want, Spock." He sat back down in the
chair, placing his hand over the bulge in the blankets at Spock's
was one of the Vulcan's hands.
McCoy spoke in quiet whispers to Spock, soothing him into
sleep. Eventually, the
Vulcan's eyes closed and then McCoy let
himself relax, recuperating from the harsh events of the day, and
in the chair beside him.
Spock's eyes fluttered open; his breathing
was loud and raspy
to his own ears. He lifted his head slightly to gaze around his
surroundings and quickly found that
he could move nothing but his
neck. *Where am I? Why...why can't I move? These aren't my quarters!*
His face contorted
into a wince. *My head hurts. And I'm hungry. How
am I going to eat if I can't move?
The sound of a door sliding
open interrupted his thoughts and
he turned his head to the side, gazing up to see McCoy. He cleared
his throat. "Leonard...I'm
McCoy smiled gently at him. "Good morning, Spock. You slept
for a long time. How do you feel?"
stared back at the doctor, confused. *Didn't I just say
I was hungry?* McCoy's smile was reassuring. *Maybe Leonard will
me some food if I answer his question better.* "My head hurts, and I
McCoy moved closer to Spock.
He himself had had a restless
night. After waking up after a quick nap at Spock's bedside, M'Benga
had ushered him to
get the first set of tests completed on Spock and
then had sent him back to his quarters for bed. He had only time for
morning coffee when the life sign monitor told him Spock was
awake. "We can take care of all that."
The doctor reached
down and pulled back Spock's blankets and
then set about loosening and removing the Vulcan's restraints. After
was pulled back, he lovingly massaged the skin beneath the strap
to help Spock's muscles. "Let's get you ready for everything.
you want for breakfast?"
Spock sat up slowly in the bed, gazing around the room for a
few minutes. He
then reached out to grab McCoy's hand, as he slowly
climbed off the bed. "Pla-savas shihvek."
McCoy helped ease
the Vulcan to his feet; feeling strange
considering Spock was an inch taller than him and outweighed him by
fifteen pounds. He recognized that term. It was a kind of
Vulcan pie. "You can't have that for breakfast, but maybe later
How does treahk-tor kheh and theris-masu sound?" That was
what Spock usually had when he took the time to actually eat
nodded, keeping his hand within McCoy's fingers.
*Leonard makes good treahk-tor kheh. And he'll give me pla-savas
tonight. Maybe means yes.*
McCoy smiled a little wider, putting his other hand on
Spock's shoulder. "Great, I'll
get that set up for you and get you
taken care of. Come on." McCoy led him into the small patient
restroom and helped
him remove the sickbay jumpsuit. He helped the
Vulcan to the small private, water closet and left him to his own
while he went about getting him a clean jumpsuit, and
telling the attending nurse to make Spock's breakfast order.
stepped out a few minutes later and McCoy helped the
Vulcan change. He adjusted the collar of the shirt and then led the
back to the room. "My head still hurts, Leonard."
McCoy went to one of the medication cabinets and produced a
spray. He placed a calming hand on Spock's arm while he injected
it into the side of his neck. "That should help. Now,
let's get you
Spock nodded and sat down on the edge of the biobed. At that
time, Nurse Chapel
walked in with a tray consisting of a bowl of
cereal and a cup of tea. She placed it upon the small table that
out onto the biobed and smiled at Spock. His gaze was distant
and a little frightened. She quickly turned her head away.
have long since recovered from her romantic intentions for the
Vulcan, but she still could not stand the sight
of such a strong,
intelligent man reduced to his current state. With a dismissing nod
from McCoy, she exited back to
the main area of sickbay.
McCoy at once returned his attention to Spock, a coaxing grin
on his face. "Spock, eat
up, when you're done, we can get a few more
tests in and then go from there."
Spock nodded and dipped his finger
into the bowl to have a
taste. McCoy was about to interrupt him and remind him to use his
spoon when Spock grimaced.
"This isn't your treahk-tor kheh. You
didn't make this!"
McCoy's expression remained calm as he reached out to place
hand over Spock's. "I was with you the whole time, Spock. I
didn't have time to make it; you know that. Nurse Chapel worked
making your breakfast. You don't want to look ungrateful do you?"
Spock gave a shake of his head. "I don't want
to eat Nurse
Chapel's cooking. I want yours."
McCoy sighed softly to himself; he had not dealt with
in a long time. "Spock, will you eat it for me?"
Spock looked at McCoy for a long moment, before looking down
the food before him. He nodded slowly. "All right." Then he lifted
his bowl and began to drink it.
McCoy sat down
in the chair beside the bed, waiting for Spock
to finish. *This is going to take longer than I thought.*
McCoy sat at his desk looking over the print outs of the test
results. They all said the
same thing. With a sigh, he laid his head
in his hands, his elbows resting on the cool metal of the desk.
damage. Every single test made that clear.
For the second time in his life, McCoy truly understood why
it was that
the Hippocratic Oath prevented one from practicing on
family. He was conflicted, and worse than that, he felt inadequate
both husband and doctor. He had no way of saving Spock from a fate
that under most circumstances, Vulcans would consider
On the other hand, at least Spock was alive, and himself, in
have continued musing, but M'Benga came up behind
him, startling him when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Len?"
head came up with a start, looking around behind
him. "What is it, Geoff?"
"We've kept him here for five days, testing
him, looking for
answers. We've tried all medicine known to Starfleet, the Federation,
and we've tried those healers
three times. He hates being stuck back
there. You know what. I think it'd be best if we just let him go back
quarters and hope time heals him."
"And we'll have to assign him a caretaker."
M'Benga just stared back at McCoy.
sighed, nodding. "I can take two shifts, but what do I
do when I have to be in sickbay?"
M'Benga exhaled at that,
thinking. Non-medical staff were out
on that, and he had the same shift as McCoy. And McCoy could not just
take a leave
indefinitely without him personally being sick. "A
nurse." It was the logical answer.
"Which one? Chapel makes him
nervous and he doesn't really
know Burke that well. And Thomson's Esper sensitivity makes her
ineligible for that job."
could hear the worry in McCoy's voice and did his
best to reassure him. "What about Harrison?"
"Harrison's an orderly,
"He's an orderly who's in the process of finishing up his
nursing training. And it's about as much as we're
going to get on
this. Besides, he had a Vulcan roommate back at the Academy."
McCoy sighed softly, pinching the
bridge of his nose. "He'll
have to do, I guess. I'm just worried about Spock. He's..."
"I know." M'Benga tried to
smile, but it did not quite reach
his eyes. "You go get cleaned up and I'll sign the release orders so
Spock can go
back home with you."
McCoy nodded and started for the back of the sickbay, not
sure what else he could do for the
Vulcan he loved so dearly.
"All right, Spock, let's get you settled
down on the bed and
I'll finish unpacking your stuff before I get some sleep, too."
The Vulcan sat on the bed, much
like a young boy trying to
impress his teacher or parent in hopes of getting praise. "Where will
you sleep, Leonard?"
the couch right over there." McCoy had a suitcase open on
a nearby table and was unpacking Spock's clothing and some of
personal effects he had with him in sickbay, including what could
only be described as an arts and crafts project,
Spock cocked his head to the side. "But that's wrong."
McCoy stopped his task so he could look
at the Vulcan. "What
do you mean wrong, Spock? The bed's yours, I'm here to take care of
you, and so I'm sleeping on
"You used to sleep in the bed, too. I remember." Spock
furrowed his brow in concentration. "You slept
on the right side."
McCoy once more felt that odd sensation in the pit of his
stomach. His mind and heart were in
conflict. "Off limits," said his
brain, and he could hardly disagree. Ignoring the pull on his heart,
he smiled at the
Vulcan, a kind, gentle smile, that of an elder
trying to explain the nature of the universe to a small child wanting
know why everybody dies. "Now I sleep on the couch, Spock. It's
not that bad, really. I'm only a few feet away, and I can
hear if you
call me, so you won't even have to get up."
Spock was about to question further, protest so he could
a reality like his memories, but he stopped in the process. He had
been told to behave himself, to be a good boy,
and then he could have
a treat. Besides, he knew he would make McCoy proud if he behaved,
and he wanted McCoy to be
proud of him. He wanted to make McCoy
"All right, Leonard," Spock said as he rose from the bed,
around to change into the pajamas that had been laid out
thoughtfully on the side of the bed. He threw his clothing on
floor, not thinking about using the hamper, and put the trousers on,
forgoing the shirt; it was too warm for it.
pajamas had been purchased on a shore leave to Rigel VII,
one that Spock most likely no longer remembered. They were a
byproduct, with the texture of silk but the warmth of flannel. Green
with small red hearts. McCoy had given them
to Spock for the High
Holidays that year, and Spock had worn them, either out of comfort or
a desire to humor the doctor.
McCoy had never been certain.
While the Vulcan dressed, McCoy busied himself with the rest
of the unpacking. The
last thing he needed was to stare at Spock's
nude form before falling asleep on the couch, with the possibility
high of never being allowed to touch the Vulcan in the way of
lovers again. He finished putting the clothing away and disappeared
the head to put away a few of the personal grooming products.
Spock finished with his pajamas and sat down on the bed,
himself under the covers. The lights were already dim and he
tried to close his eyes, so he could sleep. It had been a
he was tired. And yet, he had a feeling he could not explain. It was
wrong to be in bed by himself. He simply
did not understand why.
McCoy came back into the main quarters, putting the empty
suitcase in the closet. Turning
his head, he noticed Spock; although
his eyes were closed, his body's position told his doctor's instincts
Vulcan was not yet asleep. He walked over and sat on the
side of the bed. "Hey, mind if I tuck you in?"
one of his eyes open, the question taking a
moment to settle in. Then he nodded enthusiastically. "Please,
smiled softly at him and reached out to take hold of
the covers, bringing them up under Spock's chin and helping them form
warm cocoon around the Vulcan body. He then smoothed the fabric
out, and after feeling, through the covers, Spock's body
into the warmth, he leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, an act
that was mostly paternal in nature. "Good
night, Spock. Sleep well
and sweet dreams."
Spock closed his eyes and yawned, before
whispering, "Goodnight Leonard,"
and turning onto his side to sleep.
As McCoy walked out into the main area of the quarters, to
take up residence
on the couch, he had to ignore the whispered, "I
love you," he heard from the Vulcan. He wanted to return the
in more ways than would be ethical.
He put his shirt in the hamper, and then removed his boots
and sat down on the
couch, making it up into as comfortable a bed as
he could. He lay down, resting his head on the pillow and looked up
the ceiling. He longed to be in the bed beside Spock, not even
touching him, just to lie beside him, feeling the warmth
of his body.
But he could not. He needed to be the strong one.
It was nearly 0300 hours when the door chime rang, waking him
from a fitful sleep. McCoy
had no robe available to him, and deciding
that no crewmember worthy of being on the flagship of Starfleet would
afraid of a forty-two-year-old man's bare chest, did not bother
fishing out a shirt from Spock's dresser.
quickly to make certain the chime had not woken
Spock; it had not, proving that internal logic was what kept the
from being a heavy sleeper; and then he went to the door,
stifling a yawn as he answered it.
Kirk was on the other
side. Taking in McCoy's disheveled
appearance, his bare chest and his fatigued mannerisms, not to
mention that the fly
on his trousers was half-buttoned, a look of
disapproval settled over his features. "I just got off a double
Bones," he said.
"Want a gold star?"
Kirk sighed softly, moving towards the door. "I would have
earlier, I meant, to check on you."
"I'm fine. Spock's asleep; he's very tired, so I suggest not
going in there."
stopped, bringing his hands to his sides. "Fine. But
that's what I came to talk to you about."
"If it has to do
with Spock being tired, you don't need to
worry. After massive trauma like what he's been through, the body
while to adjust. Eventually he'll be back to normal,
physically, anyway. The mentally, emotionally, and telepathically
is still up in the air, although it's not looking good." McCoy
was rocking on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he
developed years ago.
"That's what I came to talk to you about."
"Well, you certainly have a mouthful
for three in the
morning, don't you, Jim?"
Kirk sighed, his stern military bearing coming forward so he
get his point across. "Listen, Bones, I don't mean to pry, but
are you and he..." Kirk paused, trying to put it as delicately
possible, "Are you and he doing the horizontal tango?"
McCoy simply stared at him for a long moment; somewhere
offended that Kirk would ask, and depressed that he had to
answer in the negative. "No, Jim. Absolutely not. It's against
Kirk seemed to visibly relax after hearing that. "I just had
to check, Bones. Starfleet doesn't have a
lot of rules about
fraternization, but if Spock only has the mental capacity of a small
"-It would be
considered statutory rape, as well as
molestation. I know, Jim. And I haven't touched him like that since
*And it's hurting like Hell,* he thought to himself.
"That makes me feel loads better, Bones." Kirk smiled
at him, then seemed to be reminded by the disheveled
appearance, "No offense, Bones, but you look like Hell."
been a kind of long night, Jim. And a long week. And
you didn't exactly give me time to finish my beauty sleep." McCoy
his hand up to rub at his face.
Kirk nodded sympathetically, "I know, Bones. And this
probably won't help at all,
but the whole crew's praying for the both
McCoy nodded back, "Thanks, Jim. Now can I go back to sleep?"
course. Try to get some rest, and I'll put you on beta
shift tomorrow to give you some extra time." Kirk reached out,
McCoy on the shoulder, before turning away towards his own
McCoy sighed and went back inside Spock's quarters,
them to lock before lying back down on the couch, trying to get back
to sleep in what was his home away from
home, and yet, something he
might never adjust to.
Unbeknownst to him, Spock had awoken during the conversation,
although he remained in bed, he watched McCoy's every move,
sorrow plain on his face.
next morning, McCoy awoke to a familiar, but unexpected
warmth. Opening his eyes, he quickly realized what it was. Spock
climbed out of his bed and had joined him on the couch, lying down
beside him and wrapping an arm around the doctor,
leaning his head on
against the human's shoulder.
McCoy carefully extracted himself, not trying to wake the
Unfortunately, the movement was more than the Vulcan's
unconscious could ignore and slowly, brown eyes opened to gaze at
A lazy smile was on his lips. "Morning Leonard."
McCoy stretched the muscles in his back and neck, not pleased
the development. "Morning, Spock. Why aren't you in your bed?"
"I wanted to sleep with you. You wouldn't sleep in my
I came to you." Spock paused in his explanation for a moment, "You
feel cooler than I thought you would."
sighed softly. He did not want to deal with this right
now. He had to separate their relationship from lovers to a more
one. He reached out a hand to help the Vulcan to his
feet. "Let's get you cleaned up and dressed, and then we'll take care
breakfast. All right?"
The Vulcan took McCoy's offered hand, rising to his
feet. "All right, Leonard." He followed
the doctor's lead into the
head and watched as McCoy prepared the bathwater in the wash basin.
Scotty had converted
it to allow baths as well as showers while the
Vulcan had been in sickbay, knowing that Spock would need some help
turned around as Spock stripped off his pajama bottoms
and climbed into the bathtub. McCoy then turned back and soaped
the washcloth, running it over Spock's body.
He had bathed Spock before the accident. It was something he
enjoyed doing, a time to relish every part of his lover's
body, while slowly working to arouse them both.
however, like the times in sickbay, was about
efficiency, about need. As a result, he carefully separated his mind
view Spock as a patient, a brother, a son, rather than his
beloved, so that he could do the task without making an awkward
that would break his promise to Kirk and violate his medical
Spock's Esper ability, not controlled by his
anymore, picked up on McCoy's distress and he reached out to lay his
hand on the doctor's wrist. "Leonard,"
he said softly, "You do not
McCoy sighed very softly, cupping some water in his hands and
it over Spock's hair to clean the soap out. He smiled as
he watched Spock close his eyes and scrunch up his face; very
to how his nephew used to behave. "Of course I do. The way you are,
the way we've been. It may be a little difficult
to understand, but
just leave it up to me, okay?"
Spock listened to McCoy's words carefully, and then
"And we have to sleep in separate beds, so don't sleep on the
couch again, okay?"
more reluctant to agree, but finally nodded again,
the water from the bath growing a bit colder.
"Good, now let's
get you dried off and dressed." McCoy helped Spock
out of the bathtub and gave his body a quick rubdown with his
towel, a black one with a map of the Alpha quadrant.
McCoy then left Spock to finish the rest of his cleaning and
outside to lay out Spock's clothes for the day. The new
parameters in the relationship would just need some getting used
The days passed into weeks, and although Spock's attitude was
he was eager to assist the medical staff and especially
McCoy in any way he could, the damage to his brain was proving
It seems that he would be stuck as a young child on the
inside, a shell around those best parts of the Vulcan, while his
served as a constant reminder of what he once was.
However, he was improving with many of his habits and social
and not only was he allowed visiting with non-medical
personnel, but as long as he was assisted, he had free run of the
He was especially fond of the recreation room, especially when
Uhura was in there, singing. She was attempting to re-teach
play his ka'athaira. The process was taking longer than she had
originally expected, but he had just learned
to play "Mary had a
little lamb," and it was certainly better than nothing.
McCoy, after being relieved of his shift,
went back to
Spock's quarters to change clothing and clean up a bit. Noticing that
Spock was absent from the living
residence, he went out, doing a
quick search. He found him in the mess hall, surrounded by a group of
and Harrison, looking probably half as tired as he
McCoy approached them, overhearing the conversation.
were telling Spock stories of his past, without making him feel
badly, by using the stories of "The Best Vulcan
in Starfleet" rather
than his name. However, Chekov, who had been in the middle of
recounting the tale of The Doomsday
Machine, quickly shut his mouth
when he saw McCoy approach. "I think that's enough story for one
day," he said.
waved at the group of officers, walking around to speak
with Harrison for a moment, updating himself on Spock's status.
the Vulcan had not eaten yet, even though he should have.
He had refused, waiting for McCoy to show up to help him out.
he knew that all hopes of their romantic life were
shattered, a warm feeling spread throughout his chest, knowing that
matter what, the Vulcan did love him.
The doctor made his way to the replicator to get their meals
for the evening,
vegetable sandwiches and salad. He needed to keep
Spock's vitamin level up, since the Vulcan could no longer keep count
Afterwards, he decided, as he also took two cups of tea for
them, he would get some of those cookies that Rand had made;
would make a good treat for the Vulcan.
He brought the food trays back over to Spock, the group of
having dissipated, all but Uhura, who had decided to stay
for the meal. "He's doing much better with the ka'athaira today,
You'd be proud."
McCoy set the trays down on the nearby table, sitting beside
the Vulcan and moving his
chair closer. "I can't wait to hear what
he's learned," he turned to face Spock, getting the food ready, "When
you play for me?"
"Miss Uhura says I'm not allowed to play for anybody until
the recital." The recital was a reference
to the quarterly talent
show Uhura and McCoy had started more than two years ago. It was
coming up in less than three
McCoy handed Spock his glass of tea, making certain it was
firmly in the Vulcan's hands, before taking up
sandwich. "I'll just have to wait, then, but I look forward to
hearing it." He took a bite of the sandwich,
wishing he had
replicated some ham instead.
Spock took a few sips of his tea, feeling a bit self-
He was not very sure of his ability to play the
instrument; Uhura made it look easy, but for some reason, most of the
eluded him. Not saying anything, he carefully placed his mug
back down on the tray, and picked up a sandwich.
he went to bite into it, the vegetables leaked out the
side, falling into his lap. He only got a mouthful of the rye bread,
he stood up quickly, to get the vegetables off. They fell to the
floor, leaving behind a stain on his trousers.
was somewhat surprised and stood up to help pick up the
fallen food, but McCoy seemed unphased. He put a hand on Spock's
to get him to sit down and then began to wipe at his
trousers with a napkin, getting most of the juices off.
then picked up another one of the sandwiches and, moving
closer so that he was practically sitting on Spock's chair, held
up to the Vulcan so he could take a bite.
Without any indication of the embarrassment one might
at being fed publicly, Spock took a bite, enjoying the
taste of the vegetables. McCoy slid his arm around Spock's back
keep him steady in the chair as he finished off the sandwich.
Uhura had gone back to her seat during the display
watching with a sad smile on her face. "You make a good father, Len,"
she said softly.
handing Spock his tea mug once the sandwich was
finished, and then gave the Vulcan's shoulder a squeeze. He knew that
would be able to adapt to their new relationship, because Spock
needed him. "That's my boy."