The BLTS Archive - "Aegri Somnia"
by Lisa Hamner (lisa.hamner@yahoo.com)

---

(completed Feb 2008)

Beta: Thanks to my friend, Jason. (All errors are my own.)

Warnings: A downer! Graphic. Deals with death issues. Features m/m
pairing.

Warnings II: 18 and over only please! If you are not a fan of S/Mc, or
m/m pairings then do yourself a favour and do not read.

Archive: here, and Spock/McCoy haven. Anyone else please ask, and
please do not use/print out without this header.

Feedback: YES please! I absolutely appreciate reviews/feedback of my
work. Even if you did not like it...tell me why. But I think you will
like. Email/message me!

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. Star Trek is the property of
Paramount, Viacom, CBS. I only own this story, written solely by me.

---

He was trapped.

'It' bent over him, with calculated, icy determination. 'It' was a
humanoid, or at least it appeared to be. 'It' worked slowly but
purposefully...on him. 'It' merely smiled a grim little smile when
cursed at or even asked a question. Dead black eyes met pleading ones
with no mercy. Metallic body armor surrounded the body where clothes
should have been. Black lines surfaced on the mottled, grey hands and
face where blood vessels might have been. Might...have been, had it
been human. But 'it' wasn't.

Blood running cold at the sight of the grim humanoid; he struggled
desperately to free himself from restraints that held him to an
examination table. He watched with fascination, yet jaw dropping
terror as implants lowered themselves from above, lay onto his
forehead and thrust tentacles though his skin, into his brain.
Hypodermic needles pierced his arm and injected him with a substance
that burned into his tissues. He could feel everything. He screamed,
soundlessly. He struggled still...eventually, he just gave up
fighting. Sweat poured down his face stinging his eyes. He was in
hell.

He felt the injected substance working its way through his system; his
arteries, then to his pounding, terrified heart. Then to his brain
dulling his senses; sucking dry all that was left of his strength. He
felt his eyes cloud into black.

"You're killing me..." he gasped. "And I don't even know who or even
what the hell you are..."

'It' chose to regard him, as one would a pet. 'It' decided there was
no harm in communication. "Welcome to us. You will help us take your
ship, then your home planet and all the beings on that planet." As
'it' spoke, a rotting odor seeped from its mouth.

In a last ditch effort he struggled to gasp. "Spock!... Help me!" He
groaned in agony...

...then immediately snapped awake breathing heavily. "Ahhh Jesus, not
again, dammit."

Doctor Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise,
came to his senses, gasping and sweating profusely. Sighing with
relief, he found that he was merely in his own bunk in his own
quarters. Safe. There was no grey humanoid keeping him captive; he was
alone. Just an old country doctor who was supposed to be on his rest
period. 'An old country doctor who's been running without proper sleep
for weeks. What good is that?', McCoy thought, glumly.

He had been unable get any decent sleep because of this recurring
nightmare. Night terror, more like. About this stupid...whatever.
Night after goddamn night. Obviously the Morpazine he'd prescribed
himself was not working effectively if he could still dream; it was
supposed to knock you out for hours.

"Lights to 75 percent," he barked to the computer and realized his
voice was hoarse, and he could feel a sore throat coming on. Great. As
the lights came on in his quarters, he squinted and rubbed his
bloodshot eyes. He surveyed the discarded sickbay tunic on the floor
from his double shift the previous day and shook his head. He couldn't
even remember going to bed last night.

"I wonder if Spock can hear me scream his name," he said aloud. "I
wonder if he can hear me talking to myself," he snorted, then wondered
why nobody in the adjacent quarters even bothered to check up on him,
surely they'd heard him screaming. 'Damn, I could be dying in here,
and nobody would care.'

He stripped off his black T-Shirt and underwear that he'd slept in,
pitched them into the laundry chute and of course missed it entirely,
making them land on the floor. He entered the small WC that he
thankfully had to share with no-one and threw his towel on the back of
the toilet. He turned on the taps of the small washbasin and rubbed
his face with the soothing warm water. Stepping into the shower
cubicle, he popped the button to 'on' and spent a long time just
standing there in the stream of water, letting his head fall back.
Wasting copious amounts of water. He'd catch hell for it from Jim,
later, but right now he didn't care.

He'd been in a terrible mood this week. Downright foul. Against all
better judgment he'd been avoiding and snapping at everyone. Like,
Spock. Especially Spock. He just wasn't in the mood for anything:
chats or discussions or arguments or baiting or teasing or pettiness;
whatever one could and would call it. He was short even with Scotty
which was unlike him. He could feel an apology was forthcoming with a
bottle of Saurian Brandy due the chief engineer. Next week.

And, yeah, yeah, yeah, he was well aware of, and had indeed been
sternly warned by Captain Kirk, that he was taking his personal
sleeping problems out on Spock. McCoy had countered to Jim that the
Vulcan was probably oblivious to his moods anyway. The captain had
joked about it, but, he really did not know how bad the situation was.

'Perhaps I just should sit Jim down with a drink and confess to him
how shit scared I am,' he thought. 'Nahhhhh, it'll just worry him.
M'Benga? No way, he'll tell me to stop drinkin' so much... and Spock
would be no help whatsoever: "Night terrors are not logical"...I can
just hear his voice now.'

Admittedly, actively avoiding Spock was not the easiest thing to do as
the pair normally worked in each other's pockets. Also, Spock had a
habit of calling on him in the Sickbay when McCoy had pulled an
extremely long absence from the Bridge. Like this week. 'Unusual for
me, I guess. Well, I'm not an line officer, I belong in sickbay
tackling all those reports; not hovering over Jim on the Bridge.'

Once, last Tuesday, Spock had come down to sickbay for apparently no
good reason and McCoy had blown up at him terribly. The realization
gave McCoy a guilty start. Spock hadn't returned since. 'My God, do I
actually miss him? I think I do!' he thought with a chuckle, then
sobered. "I do. I Miss him. Spock..." He put his palm on the shower
wall and closed his eyes.

He broke out of his reverie, punched the controls to 'off', quickly
exited the shower and pulled on a fresh uniform.

Spying the bottle of red sleeping pills on his desk he scooped them up
and shook them violently in his hand. 'Maybe If I just upped the
dosage next time with this Morpazine...I can get some real sleep...
and risk becoming addicted to it.' He shrugged to himself. 'Like I'd
be the first doctor in the cosmos addicted to drugs.' He slammed the
bottle down on the table; hard.

The bosun's whistle sounded loudly in the quiet putting an end to
brooding thoughts of sleep and everything else. He punched the button
on the monitor. "McCoy here."

Captain James T. Kirk's face sprung unto the viewer. "What's the
matter, Bones? Did I wake you?"

"No."

"Good. How about coming up to the bridge?"

McCoy sighed. "Alright, Jim. I'll be up there in a few minutes."

---

The turbo lift moved up towards the bridge with the good doctor in it.
It slowed to a stop to admit another passenger. "Ah, hell," he
mumbled. "I don't feel like making small talk with a peppy young
yeoman."

"Good morning, Doctor!" Yeoman Rand bopped into the lift looking
entirely too chirpy for the early morning hours.

"Hmmph."

"What's the matter?" asked Rand. "You look a little tired."

"I think I just need a huge cup of coffee."

"Oh, okay. I'll bring it up to...where you headed?"

"The bridge."

"Oh! You haven't been up there in awhile. I heard you haven't been
feeling well."

"From who? Who said that?"

"Oh, you know...ships scuttlebutt."

"I see," chuckled McCoy. "Just bring me some coffee, Yeoman."

"Sure, sweetie!"

The lift paused to let Rand out at the next deck, then continued on
its ascent.

The doors opened up to the bridge in full swing, sensors purring away,
crew busy at their stations and staring at a huge planet on the
viewscreen.

"Analysis, Mr. Spock," ordered the captain.

"Class M, Captain. Oxygen and Nitrogen atmosphere. Earth-like
conditions."

"Oh big surprise there, Mister Spock," snapped McCoy as he sauntered
out of the lift.

"Ah, Doctor," Spock turned from his science station as he noted
McCoy's presence. "Your usual agreeable self has returned to haunt our
bridge. A delight for us all."

"Very funny, Spock. You know, with all these thousands of planets we
explore, isn't it ironic about most planets out in space are just like
our Earth? I mean, I know about the theory of parallel evolution. But
come on...it's so boring."

"Doctor," Spock replied. "You have forgotten that the ratio of hostile
planets to Class M is approximately 1.37 in 5."

"Well, so what. I said most of 'em are Earth-like. Not all."

"I seem to recall you lamenting the use of a pressure suit to explore
a hostile planet. You found the experience 'unnatural and
claustrophobia inducing'".

"I never said that!" McCoy retorted, unable to resist. "When did I say
that?"

"Two point seven weeks ago. When we transported down to Helcon III,
the class C planet with the 92.5 percent carbon dioxide atmosphere."

"Hmph. Whatever Spock. I was asking the captain, anyway," McCoy
grumbled. "I didn't say that, did I Jim?"

"You did," smiled Kirk.

"However, even with familiar Earth-like weather patterns," Spock
continued, completely oblivious. "There is still much in the way of
fauna and life forms which are completely--."

"I'd bet you'd prefer the planet to be hot, arid, and full of sand. A
bit like, say, your Vulcan," shot the doctor.

Spock shook his head slightly. "What type of planet I prefer is
irrelevant, Doctor. The planet is what it is."

"How anyone could prefer a desert wasteland full of computer
worshipers is beyond me," mumbled McCoy.

Spock sent a sharp eyebrow up in the direction of the doctor.

Captain Kirk cleared his throat. "Bones, do you think you could stop
antagonizing Mr. Spock long enough today to form a landing party?"

"Are you coming, Jim?"

"No, I think you and Spock can handle it...it's just a routine survey,
you'll be down about an hour at the most."

"Oh joy", said the doctor.

"You're a laugh a minute today, Bones."

"Where the hell's my damn coffee?"

---

"What happened!? Where are we?" McCoy shouted to Spock as they
materialized into pounding rain and wind.

As Spock whirled about he also realized something was terribly wrong.
"Unknown Doctor!" They could not see in front of them but for the wet
coming down in droves.

"I thought you said this planet was nice?!"

"As usual, your recollection of my report is incorrect! I merely
stated it was Earth-like!" Spock prodded McCoy onward, and together
they staggered through the gale.

The winds grew stronger knocking McCoy to the ground. Spock unable to
see him, wound up tripping over the doctor and sprawled on the other
side of him. "You okay?" yelled McCoy in his ear.

Spock nodded and huddled close to the doctor on the sodden ground. He
pulled his tri-corder up to his face and attempted to read the scan.
"It appears that there is something in the vicinity for us to wait out
the rain and contact the ship. Over there."

The two of them staggered upright and pressed on with the tri-corder
directing the way. There was a large rain shelter nearby, a sort of
cut out in the hills. It wasn't much but it would have to do. Spock
pulled McCoy and himself inside, where they sat on the ground
bewildered.

"I'm soaked to the bone!" observed McCoy; shivering and teeth
chattering.

"Doctor, I highly doubt that your epidermis would allow outside fluids
to seep to your skeletal system."

McCoy couldn't help but crack a smile as Spock pulled out his
communicator and desperately hailed the ship. There was no response at
all. Spock tried a second time, then a third, and a forth. McCoy
pulled out his communicator and copied Spock also with negative
effect.

"The communicator's seem to be operating properly," McCoy noted;
puzzled.

Spock pointed his tri-corder up in the direction of the sky. "It does
appear that the ship is no longer orbiting this planet." He popped his
communicator shut and let his tri-corder fall to his waist.

"Are we even certain that we're on the same planet we thought we were
transporting down to?"

"I am unable to correlate the scans. Yes, it is possible we
transported somewhere else. Or, it is also possible that we are indeed
on the correct planet and that the Enterprise has been destroyed."

"Destroyed, huh? Well, leave it to you to come up with an even worse
scenario than I'd come up with."

"Logic dictates one must consider all possibilities."

"Yes, and couldn't logic also dictate that our tri-corder doesn't
register the ship and our communicators have no signal just because of
the storm?" McCoy asked dryly.

"Certainly. That is another such possibility. Or the ship has been
merely thrown out of sensor range."

"Right, see, there's lots of theories as to what happened. So don't be
such a damn fatalist," McCoy growled, then muttered under his breath.
"I bet we did transport somewhere else...damn transporter gonna beam
us into open space one of these days...you just wait."

Spock let a sigh escape his lips and said nothing. In an effort to
escape McCoy's grousing, he focused on a precursory investigation of
the shelter. He found that it was approximately three meters in an
imperfect cube and appeared to be uninhabited. There were no life-form
readings of any kind in the vicinity.

McCoy perked up from his pensive mood and busied himself with the
first order of business: survival. They were obviously going to be
here awhile. He yanked his medi-kit off his hip and opened it; checked
a few things he'd packed, and shook out a metallic blanket. All things
aside, they were indeed soaked through their uniforms and in danger of
hypothermia. He pulled out his phaser, aimed and fired at a medium
sized rock.

As Spock attempted yet another scan of the area, the graceful head
beneath the black bangs tilted to one side. "Doctor, I have noticed
that you have been rather out of sorts lately."

McCoy snorted to hide his shock. "Have you? That's unusually observant
of me on your part."

"Is there anything troubling you?"

McCoy glanced into the dark eyes and saw a genuine concern that
touched him. He softened for an instant then snapped back to his usual
demeanor. "You ask me that right now? When we have more important
things to worry about?"

"If you are affected by something it is of importance. Besides, there
is nothing for us to do now, but wait out the storm."

"Wait out the storm? That's it? So you enjoy doing absolutely nothing
about our situation."

"Negative. Your accusations are ridiculous."

"Kind of like your supposed sensor sweeps."

Spock nodded in agreement. "You do having something there, Doctor. If
we are on the same planet, which I emphatically assume to be the case,
it is indeed odd that my shipboard scans of the weather patterns were
so conflicting to reality. Life signs were shown in the vicinity of
our transporter coordinates. However, with this tri-corder the area
appears to be uninhabited."

"Yeah, that is odd. Damned odd. And darkness is falling fast. I
thought we were supposed to be on the daylight side."

"It is in our best interests to be especially vigilant on this
mission. You might as well get some rest, Doctor." A slight cough
escaped from the Vulcan's lips. "I shall take the first watch."

"Didn't think to bring any survival gear, did we... Commander," McCoy
smirked.

"It should not have been necessary."

"Inomnia paritis, Spock. Alright, I'll take first watch, you get some
sleep. You're coughing."

"I was merely clearing my throat."

"Whatever you say. I'll stay up." McCoy pulled his wet tunic off, lay
it near the glowing rock then motioned the Vulcan over. "Here, share
this blanket with me."

"Are you certain?"

"About what, staying up? Or sharing the blanket?"

"Both. I am quite capable of forgoing--"

"Spock, don't give me that crap about being able to stay awake for
four days at a stretch. You know you need sleep to stay at optimum
performance."

Spock considered this for a moment, then dove under the blanket next
to the doctor. "I will awaken in four hours."

"Yeah, fine. Go to sleep."

"You did not tell me what has been troubling you."

"Spock, go to sleep before I make you tell me a bedtime story."

---

"Doctor McCoy." Spock nudged the doctor.

"Hmmm?"

Spock noted with half amusement that McCoy was curled up next to him
with his head on the Vulcan's shoulder and half annoyance that the
doctor had shirked his duties. "I have overslept my watch. Did you
give me something?" To underline his irritation, Spock yanked the
blanket off of McCoy. "Doctor, please get up. It's morning."

"Spock...uh..." McCoy rubbed his eyes, groggy from constant
interrupted sleep. However, it had been rather cozy and warm next to
Spock. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're like a walking heating
blanket?"

"Landing party survival procedure dictates that on an alien planet,
without an emergency sensor beam, one of us must stand watch in the
night."

"Spock, dammit, will you listen?! I'm fully aware of the landing party
procedures. You were coughing during the night so I thought it better
if you just slept through. Yes, I gave you something to sleep. It was
so warm next to you that I accidentally dozed off too, right before
morning. Okay?"

Spock stopped. "I was not coughing during the night."

"Well, you would know, right? Being as you are a physician and all!"
At Spock's sigh McCoy softened. "This weather is getting to your lungs
rather quickly I might add. I know your Vulcan hide absorbs all this
moisture. You're probably just developing some sort of cold. I'll take
care of it when we get back to the ship." McCoy paused, then added for
emphasis, "If we get back."

"A cold indeed. Most likely you are utilitizing that as an excuse to
give me a physical."

McCoy moved to the entrance of the structure. "Well, that is my job."

Spock remained from comment and joined the doctor to gaze outside.

"It's still raining," McCoy muttered.

"It is," the Vulcan acknowledged with a slight grimace.

"I'm gonna try to contact the ship."

Spock held up his communicator. "I already did Doctor. There is still
no response. In the meantime, I shall inspect this shelter further."

After a few minutes of watching the Vulcan, McCoy pulled his dry tunic
on and decided to re-check his medi-kit. "Well Spock, I don't know
about you but my uniform certainly is wrinkled," he said to lighten
the mood; glancing at his arm.

"Then it is no different to your usual shipboard appearance," replied
Spock. As McCoy opened his mouth for a sarcastic response a high
pitched transporter beam noise sounded with earsplitting intensity.

Spock, caught in the beam, promptly disappeared.

"Spock!" McCoy's breathing became rapid with fear. "SPOCK! Spock!" He
stood rigid. Now what?

The shelter became very lonely with Spock's absence.

There was a slight pop, pop, pop. McCoy whirled around but found it
was only the dripping of the rain coming inside the structure. His
breathing became very loud in his ear as he swallowed the rising fear
and ignored the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck. He
pulled his communicator off his belt with a snap. "McCoy to
Enterprise! Somebody answer up there!"

It was in vain. He waited. Spock didn't return.

McCoy picked up his own tri-corder and scanned the interior of the
structure, then moved to the mouth to scan outside. Nothing was there.
No Spock. No other life forms of any type.

The rain outside grew ferocious; a hurricane style wind started up and
howled through.

He dashed outside in the wind and rain in a rash attempt to locate
Spock but it was simply too intense and drove him back. Re-entering
the shelter dejected, he slumped down on the ground, threw his
tri-corder down and pulled the metallic blanket around his head.

Suddenly, another transporter hum sounded. McCoy picked up his
tri-corder and slung it over his shoulder and lunged toward it;
disappearing into the beam.

He solidified then found himself sliding down a steep metal sounding
embankment covered in ooze. "Uhhh..."

He reached for the tri-corder and felt that it was gone. His phaser
and communicator were also gone, dropped in the muck somewhere. He
dipped his hand in the ankle deep gelatinous substance; reaching
around for them but could find nothing. He cursed in frustration. The
slime was disgusting and smelled like boiled bones.

He scrambled up and immediately slipped and fell onto his back. He
clambered up again onto his feet not letting the desperation seep into
his psyche. He felt the slime soak into his uniform and sting him a
bit. Hopefully Spock was in this hellhole...somewhere, if he could
only get to him.

McCoy managed to stay upright and cautiously moved many meters further
along. He realized, as his eyes adjusted to the greenish low light
level, that he could not figure out just what the hell this place was.
Disorientated; he could feel an eerie buzzing sensation in here. He
felt through his boots an intermittent pulse like a heartbeat.
Possibly the pulse was an engine of some type, his mind surmised.
Perhaps he was in a space craft? It was difficult to tell. Covering
the walls of the corridor he found himself in, were interlocking metal
tubes with a primordial ooze-like substance pushing out and dropping
to the floor.

The smell in here was nauseating, like the stench of rotting garbage.
Worse than that. It was an odor possibly worse than he'd ever smelled
in his many years as a doctor. His velour blue tunic was now
completely covered in a slime that he dearly hoped wasn't poisonous.
He brought his hand up to wipe his forehead and he found he was
sweating buckets. It was unbelievably hot and humid in here. Was that
mildew he could smell? Ughh.

"Spock!" he cried, his voice swallowed up in the damp walls. "Spock!
Where the hell are you?!" He coughed to get the dampness out of his
lungs.

McCoy shuffled through corridor after corridor; setting one foot in
front of the other so he wouldn't slip and fall again; his footsteps
clanging loudly on the metal floor. It was eerie, this huge ship with
nobody around. He shivered, even thought the heat was becoming
oppressive.

Noting a slant downward; he trudged down a series of corridors running
deeper into the ship. These did appear to be inhabited. Lining the
walls were half human, half machine-like creatures. They stood at
attention; staring into space and focused on no-one. Apparently
lifeless. McCoy stared at them and quickly hurried past.

He came upon a chamber.

As McCoy entered it, he paused, troubled. This area was different. It
was filled with numerous glass tubes, like upright transparent tombs.
Bodies were suspended in a liquid inside. What the hell... "My God,"
he noticed. "There are people...humanoids in these."

He crept up to one of the tubes and peered inside. The poor hapless
humanoid inside was floating in the liquid with a terrified expression
frozen onto its face. It seemed to be in storage for something.
"Fucking hell..." he gasped as he left the tube with the humanoid in
it and went from tube to tube searching.

Finally, he managed to find what appeared to be...Spock.

The Vulcan seemed to be intact; albeit nude, unconscious and floating
inside some nasty green liquid.

McCoy placed his palms against the glass and slumped his face against
it. "Spock..." he gasped. He slammed his fists on the glass. "Spock?"
A small cry escaped McCoy's lips as he realized with a sinking heart
that there was no way to get the Vulcan out of there, or no indication
that Spock was even still alive.

He tried to figure out how the hell Spock managed to get into this
predicament and who had put him in there as he searched the vicinity
for something that would help.

There was nothing.

McCoy resumed pounding his fists in desperation on the glass tomb. "I
can't do it. I can't get him out of here," he muttered to nobody in
particular as his eyes roamed around the chamber.

His foot kicked against a reasonably large metal object. He picked it
up. Examining it quickly, he discovered with contempt that it was an
arm and quickly dropped it with a loud curse. Pulling himself
together, his eyes fell on a set of controls next to the tube. He
started punching; a transporter hum sounded and the glass tube
disappeared leaving Spock crumpled onto the floor.

McCoy dropped to his knees next to Spock and noted the greenish purple
tinge to his body. Spock was in full cardiac arrest. McCoy pulled the
Vulcan up, expelled a water like fluid from him, then pumped Spock's
chest. As he did so he intoned under his breath and continued till his
arms were nearly numb and he was certain the Vulcan was dead. He
tilted Spock's head back; breathed for him and kept up the
resuscitation attempt. 'Come on Spock, you can't leave me...my
God...don't leave me...'

Suddenly, Spock gasped, then retched and vomited. McCoy tilted the
Vulcan's head so he wouldn't choke. "We need species 3259...we need to
assimilate his body..." moaned Spock. The weak voice from Spock was so
low McCoy could barely hear it.

"Spock?" McCoy lay his hand on the Vulcan's face. "Hey, Spock. Come
out of it. It's only me."

The touch of the human's cool hand brought Spock back. "McCoy...".

"Yeah," McCoy smiled with relief. "You're alright now." Spock looked
into McCoy's eyes and nodded.

McCoy glanced around the chamber, in case they were to be discovered.
"Spock I have to get you out of here somehow."

The weak voice acquiesced with an equally weak nod. "Yes."

"Can you stand up? I don't think I can carry you."

In between hacking coughs, the Vulcan nodded and realized with a
raising eyebrow that he was completely nude and sat up with
difficulty. He took McCoy's proffered arm and raised himself up to a
shaky standing position. McCoy slid his arm around the Vulcan's thin
waist. Together, they staggered down the murky, dank corridor, back
the way McCoy had come.

The pair continued for what seemed like hours trying to find their
way. The further they went it appeared Spock was moving slower and
slower till they both collapsed onto the ground. Spock shivered
violently. He stoically tried but could not stop. McCoy knelt down
next to him and cradled him in his arms.

"Leave me here..." Spock said, softly.

"I'm not leaving you, stupid. We'll just rest a bit."

"Leave me...find the Enterprise...that...is an order."

"My medical authority overrides your orders," grumbled McCoy. Resting
his aching back reluctantly against the nearby wall, McCoy pulled
Spock's head into his lap. "Shut up, goddammit, and rest." Spock gave
up his protestations and McCoy eventually leaned his head back onto
the metal wall, too exhausted to care about their surroundings.

McCoy felt himself sway and dizzy, and started to panic. They needed
to find a way out of here and fast. But, he reasoned, they could rest
for just a few more moments...

He started awake; groggy. The view was fuzzy. He found himself unable
to focus and wondered what was wrong. He tried to draw a breath and
found it wanting; they were losing oxygen in here. He looked down at
Spock. The Vulcan with his head still in McCoy's lap was unconscious.
McCoy roused him sharply by slapping him.

Spock's eyes fluttered open. The doctor sighed in relief and scrambled
up pulling Spock up with him in desperation. "Come on! We're losing
air. We have to get out of here now! NOW!" Spock blindly obeyed him
and they carried down the passageway till McCoy spotted a transporter
pad. "You came in on a transporter beam, let's see if hopefully that
one takes us out of here."

They staggered desperately towards the transporter pad, till Spock's
bare foot caught on a metal grating causing his legs to go out from
under him and collapsing McCoy on top in a giant heap. McCoy let out a
grunt as his hip connected with Spock's leg.

"McCoy!" gasped Spock.

"Ow. I'm gonna have one nasty bruise. Dammit. Are you okay?"

"Affirmative."

McCoy stood up, dragging Spock with him. "Come on Spock, lets get the
hell out of here."

Together they made for the transporter pad and vanished.

---

Spock and McCoy found themselves materialized back on the planet in
apparently the exact shelter that they had left. The rain was still
pummeling furiously outside and they could hear the patter on the
shelter. 'No better than where we were before but at least we're safe,
for now,' McCoy thought.

McCoy pushed the Vulcan to a lying position on the ground. He picked
up his metallic blanket and wrapped it around Spock. Spock was
freezing but desperately trying to minimize his shivering.

"Stop Spock, I know you're cold. Stop trying to fight it. Here put
these on. If they fit." McCoy hesitated, then pulled off his own blue
uniform shirt stained with all manner of fluids, leaving his black
undershirt on, and then stripped off his boots and trousers, leaving
on his thermal underwear and socks.

"I cannot take your uniform," Spock's voice was getting weaker.

"For Godsakes, Spock, don't fight me on this! Okay?! Can you just not
argue with me for once?"

The Vulcan nodded assent. McCoy pulled the uniform top over Spock's
head and upon realizing the fastening had broken, left it alone and
pulled the black trousers over the ailing science officer's hips and
closed them. Spock merely leaned back and tried to concentrate on
breathing with as much dignity he could muster.

Thankfully the medi-kit was still lying in the dirt. McCoy dug out
another small medi-scanner from the bag and ran it over his patient
and muttered to himself: "Fluid still resting in the lung sacks...
blood gas, adequate to low...no brain damage...no broken bones." McCoy
moved over to behind Spock, pulled him up to resting on all fours and
thrust his arms around Spock's diaphragm, forcing up more foul liquid
the Vulcan had ingested. After this, Spock promptly lost
consciousness. The doctor gently laid him down, pulled out the hypo
loaded with tri-ox and shot Spock with it.

Hours passed before Spock came to, and McCoy sat watching him till he
awoke; the concern showing on his lined face.

"I bet it hurts to breathe," said McCoy gently.

Spock nodded. It felt like fire when he took in breath.

McCoy interpreted his scanner. "Abrasion in lungs...leukocytosis.
Guess what Spock, you picked up a bit of fast moving gram negative
bacteria back there; seems to be an alien derivative of Streptococcus
pneumoniae. I'm not surprised with that nasty shit you were swimming
around in when I found you. You still have more fluid in your lungs
which I can't get out. It looks like...dammit... one lung sac has
already become infected and is quickly spreading to the other."

An eyebrow was raised in response. "Streptococcus Pneumoniae?
Fascinating. I thought that I was inoculated against Earth-style
bacteria."

"I said an alien derivative of it! Where ever the hell we just were,
was probably full of nasty alien bacteria just waiting for little old
us. Plus your damned Vulcan hide can't deal with this type of crappy
weather for long. I know my human hide is getting mighty sick of it.
Seriously, you know how deadly double Pneumonia is if you don't get
treatment."

McCoy pulled a hypo out of his medi-kit and popped on an ampoule of
Dexalin. "This will only help you breathe and sooth your lungs a bit.
I'm not carrying any compound antibiotics with me. We need to get you
back to the ship."

After the Dexalin shot with a bit more Tri-ox thrown in for good
measure by the doctor, Spock found that he was indeed better able to
breathe, but still unable to sit up. "Doctor, what happened to me?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"I have no information; please elucidate."

"Well, you disappeared in a transporter beam; I went after you, and
found you suspended in a tube. We were in some type of alien ship or
something. I think. I don't really know. It was disgusting."

"Even for you?" asked Spock.

"Even for me."

Spock cocked a disbelieving eye at the doctor. "Are you certain that
is what happened? I do not remember."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "No, I'm making it up, Spock." At Spock's sharp
look he said, "Of course I'm certain."

"Did you find anything out about this alien ship?"

"Look Spock. I'm just assuming it was an alien ship. I don't know what
the hell it was. I just know that it smelt bad and I was doing my
damnedest to figure out how to get us out of there."

"Who were the inhabitants?"

"I DON'T KNOW, Spock!" McCoy snapped. "All I know is that there was
nobody around to stop me when I was looking for you. But somebody must
of transported you into that tube. I don't think you crawled into
there by yourself. I didn't have time to do any goddamn studies, okay?
Lay off."

"Fascinating," said Spock, as he shifted his weight. "Have you your
communicator? I appear to have lost mine."

"No, Spock. I lost mine too. And my phaser, and tri-corder." McCoy
knew that Spock was itching to investigate the situation, but was just
as helpless as he.

"Then we wait till we appear on the planet wide bio-scan."

"Who knows where the Enterprise might be."

"Indeed."

"Spock, I have a--"

Spock immediately started off on another round of coughing. As the
coughing became more and more severe, McCoy inched forward to Spock's
head and held it up as the Vulcan became nauseated and gasped. He
pushed the Vulcan to lay back against the wall and patiently waited
till the wave passed. Unwrapping the blanket from around Spock's legs,
he pulled it up to the Vulcan's shoulders, and then sat down heavily
across from him.

"Share the blanket with me," invited the science officer.

"Alright, Spock." The doctor moved to underneath the blanket next to
the Vulcan. "Feeling any better?"

"Somewhat."

"Good," McCoy said as he huddled closer. He stared into space for a
long while, then said. "Doesn't this upset you; being forced to cuddle
with me?" he chuckled slightly.

Spock shook his head. "I do not mind your touch. You slept next to me
last night with no ill effects. You are my doctor; you touch me more
often than anyone else in the crew. I have become used to you."

McCoy laughed. "Used to little old me? Ah Spock. How sweet." At the
raised eyebrow the doctor commented: "Cuddling with a stranger would
upset you then."

"Being upset, in the way you are indicating, is a human emotion;
however the sensation would be uncomfortable, yes."

"Oh. But can't you--"

"Yes, under normal circumstances, I block out others thoughts and
emotions using the Vulcan mind rules."

"Under normal circumstances...?" asked McCoy. "But this isn't a normal
circumstance; you're ill. So... you can read my thoughts?"

"Well, as you know, I am a touch telepath; so only if I am touching
you. Yes, Doctor, I can tell what you are thinking." At McCoy's
shocked look he said: "I am trying not to do so. However, even as you
move away from me, at this moment in close quarters I cannot shield
your emotions."

"Sorry..."

"Do not apologize. You normally have remarkable emotional control for
a human. You express mostly humor and anger to mask certain others
such as despair, sadness or even... tenderness. I am able to feel your
underlying emotions rather strongly."

McCoy smiled and moved himself away further away from the Vulcan.
"Okay, Spock, tell me. What am I feeling right now? Tell me
everything."

"You have expressed fascination about what I have just told you. And,
you are concerned about my welfare."

McCoy was smug. "Oh well, that's a brilliant deduction. Watson!"

"That is not all, Doctor."

"Oh, what else?"

"Besides the obvious surface feelings; there is something deeper. You
have deep seated emotional feelings of attachment for-- No..." Spock
trailed off, as he considered it. "It is love. From what I understand
the emotion to be. You are in love... with someone. You try to hide it
though, as you are not comfortable with it."

McCoy started nearly out of his skin. "I don't see how that is any of
your--"

"You asked, Doctor."

"Oh, yeah...So. Do you know who it is?"

Spock hesitated. "No, I do not. There is more. Additionally, you have
been suffering terrible nightmares as of late."

"That's nothing new Spock. In my line of work you see a lot of crap
that gives you nightmares."

"This is different. You have been having recurring nightmares about
this planet. You haven't been able to sleep well for some time. You
are frightened."

"I don't think I want to have this conversation any more. Good night."

"Good night, Doctor."

As McCoy drifted off into an exhausted sleep the dream returned. "You
will be assimilated..."

"No...!"

"Your nightmare?" the Vulcan queried in the dark.

"No...it's nothing...Spock. I'm okay."

"Doctor, avoidance of the issue is not logical. It would be beneficial
to divulge the information—"

"—No Spock! I said it was nothing!" McCoy said, a little too harshly.
At the silence, McCoy said, "I'm just having a little trouble sleeping
is all."

Spock didn't have the heart to tell McCoy that since they were nearly
touching, he knew he was being lied to. He laid his head back and
listened to the Doctor's increased heartbeat next to him.

---

Morning came with another hypo from the doctor. Spock opened his eyes.

"I can't keep giving you these things, I'm running out," said McCoy.
"Look at your fingernails."

Spock held his hand up and noticed the blue-green color.
"Interesting," he rasped.

"The cyanosis indicates you're not taking in enough oxygen; I'm
under-dosing you. Harder for you to speak?"

Spock nodded.

"Well then," the doctor said. "The time has come for you to shut-up."

Spock shook his head. He did not feel well enough to protest.

"Are you hungry? Here, eat this." McCoy shoved a vegetarian ration
from the medi-kit towards the Vulcan.

"I am not hungry, Doctor."

"Eat it anyway; you need to keep up your strength."

Spock opened his mouth to remind the doctor that he was quite capable
of fasting for long periods when he got the "EAT!" from the good
doctor, thought better of responding and picked up the ration and had
a tentative bite. "Are you not going to eat?" he enquired.

"After you." McCoy tore open up a water packet and thrust that at the
Vulcan. "This too." As Spock drank it, McCoy observed. "Y'know this
stuff isn't gonna last forever, maybe ten days at the most. We'll
eventually have to find food and water outside. I already looked
around out there this morning, it's still raining."

Spock shook his head. "I must have been in a deep sleep as I didn't
hear you leave. It is dangerous to go out on your own. If you desire
to go out again I will accompany you."

"Oh no you don't. You're not going anywhere. I'll see to our immediate
survival. You can't go out in that damn rain."

"It has been raining since our arrival."

"I know. How long have we been here? A week? It must be." McCoy's face
itched; it took a week for his beard suppressor to wear off. He
munched on a dental tablet and sulked.

---

Spock had dozed off but his lungs were becoming rather heavy and woke
up gasping and clutching his chest.

McCoy noted that the tips of Spock's ears were turning greenish-blue.
He pulled the Vulcan to a sitting position then checked his bag.
"Spock I'm seriously low on anything that would help. I'm sorry." He
leaned over to listen to Spock's chest, pulled out his medi-scanner,
used it and frowned at it.

Spock nodded coughing. "Then...Doctor...I will have to make due
without."

"Eventually you won't be able to breathe at all if we don't get back
to the ship for treatment."

"Thank you," Spock managed to say. "Your uncanny ability to keep a
running commentary on my situation is most...irritating."

McCoy sat back on his haunches. "Alright, alright, fair enough."

"Perhaps, a positive attitude might be beneficial."

"How about if we see the Enterprise again and you live, I'll have
reason to be positive. Until then, I'll grouse if I want to!" McCoy
snapped, once again a little harsher than he'd meant to. A cold wind
whipped in the shelter and McCoy folded his arms and shivered.
"Dammit...Spock...I'm sorry..."

"Apologies are unnecessary. You are adversely affected by the
plummeting temperature."

"What Spock? You mean, I'm cold? Well of course! You do have my
uniform on. We have no way to make a fire; any wood we have is sopping
wet. Unless you have the ability to rub two sticks together and keep
it lit, because I haven't been able to do it."

"I thought everyone in the Earth American South could start a fire
with two sticks. Are you not familiar with the Earth custom of
camping?"

"Very funny Spock."

"Have you a laser scalpel?"

"No, don't you think I would have used that to start a fire already? I
don't have that in this kit."

"You do not have a calcium nitrate tablet?"

"Dammit...I'm gonna clobber you!"

Spock glanced at the glaring, shivering McCoy, clad only in the
regulation black undershirt and thermal underwear. "It is imperative
that you share my body warmth."

McCoy shook his head. He didn't want Spock reading his thoughts any
more. "No, stop trying to mother hen me. That's my job."

Evening fell and the two men lay silent in the dark. When McCoy
started to cough under his breath, Spock's ears pricked up. The good
doctor was catching the affliction too.

---

Morning came, with a rumble.

"What the hell was that?" McCoy voiced it as both men started.

The rumble appeared again and the shelter shook violently.

"It would appear...that the land this the shelter is on...is
unstable," said Spock looking around him.

In a pause in the shaking, McCoy started up to his knees then promptly
fell down again.

"Doctor?" Spock inched over to him.

McCoy panted, "Jesus, I can't move...you've given me your damned
disease."

"Ah, it is communicable, then."

"Go ahead, state the fucking obvious, Spock!" McCoy snapped.

Spock grabbed McCoy's shoulders. "You've given all the meds in your
kit to me, haven't you."

"Yeah."

The shaking of the shelter grew more and more severe as the shelter
collapsed around them. Spock desperately tried to get to his feet but
could not. Stones and rocks tumbled down around them. They needed to
leave, now.

Spock somehow found the strength to pull himself up and staggered over
to McCoy to drag him towards the entrance of the shelter. Attempting
to assist but failing madly; McCoy rasped loudly: "If the Pneumonia
doesn't kill us this goddamn planet will!"

Spock gathered all the last of his strength to pick McCoy up in his
arms, stagger out of the shelter and outside into the continuing
storm. Even though the doctor was slim and theoretically not very
heavy; it took everything for him not to keel over with the load.

He stumbled outside, grimacing with the rain pelting his face and with
the weight of the prone figure of McCoy.

Outside, McCoy felt his head fall backward with the biting rain
pinning his hair back. With seconds to spare, the shelter collapsed
behind them into a pile of rubble with a loud crash. Spock at once
mourned the loss of his tri-coder, lost on that ship; without it they
were virtually blind out in the storm.

The Vulcan pushed on forward till the pair crossed quite a bit of
terrain.

"There is another shelter in the distance!" Spock shouted to McCoy,
but by this point the doctor was beyond caring.

Finally making it to the next shelter; Spock collapsed with McCoy at
the entrance and remained there gasping for breath for awhile. He felt
the doctor's wrist for a pulse and found it. As he held on to the
human's hands then touched the face he noted the man's normally cool
touch was becoming warmer. Spock lay listening to McCoy cough more and
more severely till he started to choke. Picking up McCoy's head, Spock
turned it so McCoy could cough. As he wiped the doctor's face, Spock
noted the blood.

He looked around the new shelter to get his bearings. This one was
more like a cave like structure but even shallower than the last. But
by T'Prillah and the gods what was that that Spock could barely make
out? A pair of animal hides next to a burned out fire. The Vulcan
crawled, dragging McCoy with him, towards the animal skins and finally
made it. He turned the doctor on his back pulled an animal hide over
him, then dove under the one next to it.

McCoy stirred; muttering deliriously, "No...no...no!"

Spock grasped the doctor's fighting hands as put his head down to the
chest. "No?" he queried.

"...don't hurt me..."

"Doctor, it's me." Spock touched the doctor's face to sooth him, then 
laid down and fell asleep next to him.

---

The next day, Spock was awakened by rumbling in the distance. He
managed to get to his feet and stagger to the cave entrance. He peered
into the light rain and caught sight of a very large cube shaped
spacecraft swooping into the atmosphere then disappearing. The view
was stunning. He heard the scratchy voice of the doctor behind him as
they felt the vibrations reach them. "What is that?" McCoy demanded.

Spock turned round to McCoy sitting up under the hide. "Doctor, you
shouldn't speak." He himself was unable to disguise the strain of his
own voice.

"Neither should you. Tell me what's out there."

"It is our alien space craft perhaps?"

McCoy shook his head; he couldn't see it from where he was and would
have to take Spock's word for it. "Spock," he said as the Vulcan
rejoined him.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Where are all the inhabitants of this planet?"

"Unknown."

"I've been having a terrible feeling about this, Spock," McCoy said,
then started to cough again.

Spock flipped McCoy over and pounded on him. "Doctor you really should
rest."

"Seriously Spock. What type of society did the planetary scans come up
with?"

Spock lay back down next to McCoy and thought for a moment. "Humanoid.
Peaceful; primitive society. C minus on the Richter Scale."

"I have a feeling that alien ship abducted all them somehow and is now
moving to another planet."

Spock looked at McCoy. "Tell me."

There was a long pause with a look of despair on McCoy's face.

"Tell me what you saw on that alien ship," prodded Spock.

"I saw...half humanoid, half machine-like creatures. Lining the walls
of the ship, just staring..." McCoy shuddered. "Then...a huge chamber
full of bodies floating in tubes...my God...You were in one of
those...when I found you on that ship. Spock, those must be the
inhabitants of this planet. Right?"

Spock's eyes opened wide. "I believe you might be correct."

McCoy gasped. "Oh my God, Spock. They're being assimilated into an
alien race. This race decimates whole planets; whole cultures! It's
how it reproduces itself."

Spock looked sharply at McCoy. "You must tell me what has been
affecting you."

"Alright. I've been having some...strange dreams, visions maybe. About
this place. Recurring nightmares about being taken by them
and...assimilated into an alien for about a few weeks now. They're so
vivid it felt like it was real."

"I know," said Spock gravely. "I saw it in your mind when I was
carrying you. I can feel your pain."

---

As another morning came, the rain ceased and the sun came out. The two
men lay extremely fatigued and did not notice.

McCoy suddenly shivered uncontrollably. His shaking got more and more
severe till it appeared to turn into a seizure. Spock, who lay with
his back against the wall, opened his eyes at the noise. He inched
closer to the doctor, took him in his arms and held on to him till it
passed. Feverish and out of his mind, tears fell from the bloodshot,
blue eyes and sobs began to rack the doctor's chest.

Spock lay his hand on the doctor's face in a attempt to sooth him but
it had no effect.

---

More days progressed and the condition of the pair worsened ever
still.

---

One sunny day, McCoy lay on his back; lucid and staring at the cave
ceiling. He felt terribly thirsty and licked his lips. They were now
officially out of food rations. He needed to urinate, badly, but his
body wouldn't cooperate with him so he could stand up or even kneel.
For a few minutes he contemplated it then wound up leaning over to his
side and going right there. He could hear wheezing coming from the
Vulcan, but he was powerless to assist him.

"Spock," McCoy croaked as he reached over, searched for and managed to
find two more packets of water. Ripping one open with his teeth he
swallowed the precious liquid in gulps.

"Easy Doctor. You'll make yourself sick."

"Who cares. Here this one's for you." He threw the water packet at the
Vulcan who also gratefully drank it.

McCoy pulled his medikit over and found a dental tablet to pop in his
mouth and passed the last one to the Vulcan. The mint flavor soothed
his scratchy throat a little and got rid of the bad taste in his
mouth. "Spock," he said, feeling a little better for the moment.

"Yes...Doctor?" said Spock softly.

"I guess now's the time for the 'come to Jesus' talk."

"Come to...?"

"Yeah, it's about my attitude lately. Spock, uh. Listen. I'm sorry
about everything. I haven't exactly been an agreeable ship-mate, have
I."

"Understandable. We are in the midst of an ordeal."

"Not just down here. On board ship too, I mean. I snapped at you
rather badly the last time you came down to sickbay and I realize that
you were just checking up on me because you cared about me."

"You are rather reactionary," agreed Spock. McCoy noted with amusement
that the Vulcan didn't deny that he cared.

"I guess I am," McCoy chuckled.

Spock raised his eyebrow at that. "It often seems to be an educational
exercise in delicate diplomacy to converse with you."

That woke the doctor up. "Oh come on, Spock. I'm not as bitchy as a
diplomat and you know it. You know you would go stir crazy without me
to bicker with." Spock shrugged as McCoy continued. "You do drive me
crazy, sometimes. Crazy enough to want to slip in something to cause
severe dandruff in your vitamin supplements," McCoy giggled madly,
till it degenerated into a nasty cough.

"Doctor... you are too ill for this. You are not in your right mind."

"Yes I am. Seriously, Spock, I'm trying to say something here. You
know, you may not have thought so, but I did like you. Bickering with
you gave me something to look forward to every day."

"Doctor McCoy we are--"

"Stop interrupting me. I'm trying to say that I relied on your
personality dedicated to logic and reason. It made me feel secure.
And, I needed to vent spleen on you sometimes, for my sanity."

"Vent spleen?"

McCoy smiled weakly. "Oh stop pretending you don't know what I mean.
So, tell me. Did you enjoy arguing with me?"

"Enjoyment is a human--"

"Yeah, yeah. Enjoyment is a human emotion. And you're half-human. So
answer me. Did you?"

"Did I, what?"

"Did you enjoy arguing with me."

"Why are you speaking to me in the past tense?"

"Because, I'm also a fatalist. Come on, Spock. Did you?"

"Yes. I wouldn't have done so if I did not."

"A ha," McCoy said happily, then sobered. "Spock, I'll tell you
something, I do feel very close to you but sometimes I have a way of
screwing things up with people I care about. I have no one except
Jim...and you. You are my family, the only one I have."

"I, also, consider you and Jim to be 'family'."

"You do? Oh. but you've still got your parents. Mine are dead, it's
been years since I've seen my relatives and since I got my divorce and
joined Starfleet I never get to see my daughter. Now, I'll definitely
never see her again."

Spock could feel the wave of despair coming from McCoy. "They will
find us," Spock insisted.

"Oh come on." McCoy sighed resignedly. "I've accepted it...the
Enterprise is gone."

"You are feeling rather melancholic doctor."

"Really? Thanks, because I didn't already know the title of the
emotion I was feeling."

"Fascinating. Even whilst dying you are never afraid to express the
lowest form of wit. I am afraid I shall never understand the human
mind."

"Yeah, but it's the highest form of humor. Listen, you're the one who
told me I use humor to cover up the difficult things. I think you and
I are more alike than you realize. You use logic to cover up emotions
in general."

Spock grunted then coughed. "I am curious about something. Did you
argue this much with your ex-wife?"

McCoy thought for a moment. "You know what? We didn't. We hardly ever
spoke to one other."

"Then, it would appear that a more desirous match for you is with
someone who is comfortable enough and close enough to you to engage in
frequent debate."

"Yeah, you might have something there. I do love frequent debates."
McCoy smiled. "Hey, Spock. You know you don't have to call me 'Doctor'
all the time."

"It is out of respect."

"But you don't respect me."

"On the contrary Doctor," said Spock. "I respect you immensely."

McCoy smiled. "Humph. We must be dying if you'll admit that. You keep
buttering me up and I'll have to kiss you," he laughed softly.

"Well, since we are having a 'come to Jesus' discussion as you call
it. I cannot deny a dying man his last wish."

McCoy snorted uneasily. "You're joking, right?"

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"Vulcans never joke. Leonard."

"You called me Leonard," McCoy gasped in surprise.

"Yes." Spock turned to face the doctor and spoke softly in a tone
McCoy had never heard before. "I have made a deliberate omission
regarding picking up your emotions. I know that...your feelings for me
are much deeper than respect; fondness. You are in fact, in love with
me." He met McCoy's eyes. "And, you have been, for some time."

McCoy laughed and glanced downwards; ashamed. "You Vulcan devil.
Alright, you've got me there. I'll do the big thing and admit it.
You're right. I'm sorry, Spock. I'll keep it under control, I really
will."

"You have kept it under control. By attempting to hide the feeling
with irascibility. Which does not bode well for my reciprocal
desires."

McCoy squinted at him in disbelief. "Your reciprocal desires?! So...
you're in love with... me?"

"I believe I said that." Spock could hear McCoy's rasping cough as the
doctor considered this. "We are extremely well suited. Are we not? It
is a logical outcome."

"Logical? What? You must be out of your mind."

"I assure you I am in my right mind. It simply was the right time to
tell you."

"Oh..."

"Are you going to kiss me?" inquired the Vulcan innocently and almost
teasingly as McCoy shifted awkwardly.

"I don't know..."

Spock regarded the doctor for a few moments. He slowly reached out two
fingers, hesitated, then touched the doctor's lips. He traced the
outline back and forth, feeling their softness and noting the beauty
in them. The warmth from the long fingertips was soothing and caused
McCoy to feel a strange calming sensation in his mind. "Then,
Leonard," whispered Spock. "I will take the initiative."

"Vulcan kiss?" murmured Leonard as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the
sensation. Then he found himself wondering, idly, if Vulcans ever
kissed with their mouths.

"Yes, we do," Spock intoned softly as he brushed a lock of the
doctor's thick brown hair away then cupped his fingers around McCoy's
neck. He moved his face closer. Suddenly shy, the human moved his head
down away from Spock's lips. "I have made you feel uncomfortable,
forgive me," said Spock.

"Just nervous, Spock," said McCoy with a slight smile. "Do it. Kiss
me. Before I die here." Spock leaned over and softly met the doctor's
lips with his own. McCoy felt himself swept up in the Vulcan's arms
and purred softly as the kiss got deeper. McCoy broke off and moved
his face along his companion's. "I can't believe it...Spock, do you
know how long I've waited for this; wanted this?"

The Vulcan stroked the Doctor's face with both hands. "Yes, I do. As
long as I have."

"And you had to wait till we were both dying, to tell me."

Spock smiled ever so slightly and pulled the doctor over on top of
him, passionately. McCoy breathed as heavily as his illness would
allow as the heat of the Vulcan's mouth underneath his made him feel
alive again. Then, he saw spots in front of his eyes and promptly
faded out.

"Leonard," said Spock softly. "Leonard." When the doctor did not
respond, Spock drew him into an embrace and clung to him.

---

As the two men huddled together unconscious, they did not hear the
familiar transporter hum and the familiar voice.

"Spock?! Bones?! Oh my God... We found them! Transporter room, have
medics standing by on the double."

McCoy came to briefly, looked up and managed a weak smile. "Jim!"

---

Captain Kirk paced back and forth in the sickbay foyer. McCoy and
Spock had been found in very bad condition; emaciated and close to
death. They had been unconscious since they had been found nearly two
weeks ago. Kirk was worried. This was worst shape that he had ever
seen his two officers in, ever.

"Captain?"

The well mannered doctor, Geoffery M'Benga, walked out from the
Intensive care ward towards the captain.

"Any change, Doctor?"

"Spock is regaining consciousness. McCoy has no change in status. They
had both developed acute respiratory distress syndrome due to severe
pneumonia. It does not want to release its hold on them that easily.
I'm continuing intense antibiotic treatment."

Kirk walked into the ICU, with M'Benga following. He stood at the bed
of McCoy, tenderly looked him over for a few moments then turned
around to Spock in the next bed. Spock was awake, but could not sit up
and rather quite begrudgingly was forced to submit to periodic hypos
and sensor scans by Nurse Chapel. Along with the sensor web, and
dressed in sickbay clothing, he was covered with two thermal blankets.

Kirk observed his friend with a kindly smile. "How are you doing, Mr.
Spock?"

Spock looked up at his captain with a slight smile in his eyes. "I am
improving, under the circumstances. I am certainly much warmer than I
had been before."

"I should have never sent you two down there, alone."

"You could not have known that this was going to be anything other
than a routine survey mission. Leonard and I, have a theory that an
alien ship orbiting the planet has been affecting the weather
patterns."

"Leonard...? You've never called him that--"

"Doctor McCoy."

Kirk eyed him quizzically. "Uh huh. Uh, yes, we saw the ship too. For
a moment at least. Till it slipped into an unstable wormhole."

"Fascinating, It is unlike any class of starship that we have seen
before. It would be interesting to know where that wormhole leads to,"
said Spock.

"That wormhole closed up. We're scanning the area in case the ship
re-appears, but it seems to be long gone."

"Captain, might I ask what happened to the Enterprise?"

"We've been in orbit this whole time looking for you. We could pick
you up on the planet. But we found ourselves dead in space. We were
unable to use the transporter or lift off a rescue shuttlecraft till
that ship disappeared."

A moan from McCoy made the captain turn back around to the bed of the
sickly doctor. 'He really looks awful', thought Kirk. 'Pale, gaunt and
fragile.' "Bones?" Kirk asked softly as he picked up the doctor's
hand.

As he held on to the doctor, Kirk felt McCoy's gold ring come off into
his hand and he grasped it in surprise. There was no more response
from McCoy.

M'Benga came into the room; stood in the corner and shook his head.

---

McCoy roused from his slumber and realized that he was sweating. 'God
damn it, why do they have to make it so damn hot in here? Surely the
power created by the Enterprise's warp core could be put to better use
than keeping the heat on full blast around here, Jesus Christ.'

But at least he was able to breathe just fine now. 'Well, kudos to
M'Benga. I'll have to put in a recommendation for a job well done.
Well, I'm still alive, in fact I feel better than I've ever felt
before!'

He decided to open his eyes...

...and realized that they were already open.

'...oh my God am I blind?...I'M BLIND!...what the hell happened to me?

McCoy then realized with fantastic relief that he wasn't actually
blind. He could see a little bit; it was just really dim. Where am I?
'What the hell?'

He felt down his body and discovered that he was completely nude...

...and floating in a clear liquid. In a panic he thrust his arms out
in front of him and touched the inside of a glass tube.

"...SPOCK! Spock? help me..".

---

Kirk had long left the sickbay ICU to allow Spock to get some rest for
the night; after he had took one last lingering look at the
unconscious figure of McCoy.

The sickbay's lights had dimmed to ten percent, but there Spock lay
unable to sleep. Nurse Chapel had just administered the last hypo for
the day and had finally left, giving him some badly needed privacy. He
tried to meditate but also could not. He finally gave up and focused
on the noises in the sickbay; the muted voices in the offices; and the
quiet sensor beeps on McCoy's Bio-bed.

He was also able to hear the soft incoming footsteps of Doctor M'Benga
making his rounds. "How are we doing, Mr. Spock," the doctor inquired.

"I seem to still be suffering some muscular weakness. I am unable to
sit up," Spock replied.

"That's to be expected. Side effect of the Tryptophan. It will
dissipate in a few days. You do not require a healing trance and I'm
pleased to say that your recovery is progressing rather well."

Spock nodded.

"Your chest is clear. I expect you are not coughing any more?" asked
M'Benga.

"Not anymore."

"Excellent. However, it is Dr. McCoy that I am worried most about,"
said M'Benga. "He seems to have developed a more severe form of the
disease. His condition is worsening."

The bio-sensor over McCoy's bed suddenly beeped an urgent sound, and
M'Benga quickly made his way over. "Nurse Chapel!" he called.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Neural stimulant please. McCoy has slipped into a coma."

Chapel gasped and went quickly to fill the order.

---

McCoy rested his palms on the glass and thought for a moment. No
matter of pounding, pleading, sobbing, or screaming could break this
glass. Being here in the inside; there was nothing or no one to assist
him. He freaked out and hyperventilated for a while and finally gave
that up, a soundless sob coming from his lips.

He found that he was able to propel himself upwards by pushing off the
bottom with his feet and reach the top the glass tube; then he would
slowly drift downwards to the bottom. To avoid the creeping insanity,
he entertained himself for a few moments by repeatedly pushing himself
up and drifting down again. He finally tired of this game and sunk to
the bottom, dejected.

'Now what the hell do I do? Keep this up forever?'

---

Spock watched from the next bed as Doctor M'Benga and a team of medics
worked on McCoy. His heart had already stopped twice; and from what
Spock could see on the monitors; McCoy's organs appeared to be
failing. M'Benga ordered replacement organs at the ready.

"Doctor," said Nurse Chapel. "The neural stimulant doesn't appear to
be having any effect."

M'Benga wiped the sweat from his forehead. "40cc of Borathium please."

Chapel went swiftly away to prepare the hypo.

M'Benga heard a beep he didn't want to hear. He suddenly looked at the
monitor with eyes widening and noted the vitals: in extremis. "Prep
for surgery," he barked to the medics.

---

McCoy bounced up and down on his toes; then lifted his feet up and
floated. He felt nearly giddy and weightless in this liquid.

'Nice work, old man. You have finally done it now. You spend your
whole life just being an ol' country doctor and you wind up getting
stuck in here. Way to go, Bones. Ho, boy, I don't know how I ended up
in here, or even if this is real or not but by God, if I ever do get
out of here I'm gonna stop drinkin' so damn much and stop taking those
damn sleeping pills for good...'

He could feel himself freaking out again and decided to continue the
game of bouncing up and down. He decided to try once again to break
the glass but on the inside in this liquid, he could not move his
hands fast enough.

He felt a thump, thump on the glass, till it finally shattered. A set
of arms pulled McCoy out of the tube and he gratefully sank into the
arms. He could not breathe till he felt warm breath taking over for
his own. He finally found his voice.

"Spock!" he cried thankfully. "You're here..."

There was no response from the benefactor. McCoy felt hands caress his
face and run down his nude body. He felt a mouth on his and felt a
tongue part his teeth and meet his own. 'Oh Spock.' It felt so good
being touched and kissed by Spock that he immediately became aroused.
The hands traveled down his stomach and caressed his thighs. The hands
slid over to touch his penis; forcing him to come almost instantly. As
he moaned, the strong hands swiftly moved up to grasp his arms so
tightly that the doctor gasped.

He was being so roughly grabbed by Spock that a cry emerged from his
lips. He opened his eyes but his vision was blurry; he got a sinking,
dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something made him reach
up and feel Spock's face.

He screamed when he felt the metal implants. It wasn't Spock.

---

Kirk entered the sickbay and found Spock sitting up in bed. "Where'd
they take McCoy?"

"He is in surgery. He is comatose and developing major organ failure,"
replied Spock gravely.

Kirk stood at the edge of Spock's bed, opened his hand and looked at
McCoy's gold ring in his palm. "I wish there was something I could do.
I feel helpless. I'm not sure how I'll handle it if I lose him; one of
my two best friends."

"And, our Chief Medical Officer," added Spock unhelpfully, unable to
find anything else to say.

Kirk looked sharply up at his first officer, then sighed. "Yes, Mr.
Spock. You're right. Of course."

"Jim," said Spock as he noticed Kirk holding McCoy's ring. "Doctor
M'Benga will notify you if there is any change in McCoy's status.
You've just come off duty as of now. You should retire to your
quarters."

"I'll worry about that later, Spock. I need to be here for my own
sanity. I'm not that tired. We've set course for the nearest
starbase." Kirk once again looked at McCoy's ring in his palm. "His
fingers are so bony; this just slipped off into my hand. I hope I
won't have to send it to Joanna. He's never spoken about why he wears
this."

"Presumably the last vestiges of his marriage before Starfleet," Spock
stated evenly.

Kirk held it up in his fingers. "It's beautiful. A ruby. I've never
noticed that before." He tired to slip it on his own pinky finger but
it wouldn't budge over the knuckle.

"If you wouldn't mind, Captain." said Spock. "I would like to keep it
safe for the doctor." He took the ring from his captain and slipped it
on his own pinky finger. It fit perfectly.

Spock and the Captain looked up to see Nurse Chapel enter the room
with tears in her eyes. "Dr. M'Benga has requested that you locate the
next of kin data in Doctor McCoy's personal file."

---

McCoy felt himself dragged along with the metal figure deeper and
deeper into the caverns of the ship.

"What do you want from me?!" he demanded.

"Human," said the figure. "Species 5618. You are to be assimilated."

"No!" screamed McCoy. The doctor lunged away from the figure but the
strong hand clasped around his neck and dragged him further.

The figure reached higher up and viciously pulled on the wet brown
hair of the doctor's and jerked his head back. McCoy fell down onto
the mucus-like floor of the dim passage. The figure dragged him across
the floor by his hair. McCoy's ankles swam wildly for purchase on the
floor to pull himself back up under the alien's grasp. The doctor was
weak and beaten.

"You can't be real! This isn't real!"

The figure picked up McCoy, laid him down onto a bed and prepared him
for surgery.

---

Spock picked up his folded uniform and proceeded to change out of his
sickbay garb, then shave in the small sickbay lavatory. He finished up
and walked back into the ICU.

McCoy lay still, back in the ICU, with no change in his coma status.
He'd made it out of surgery all right; M'Benga managing to save him.
But McCoy was slipping away; it wouldn't be long, now. As Spock
reflected on the events of the past month, he gazed at Doctor McCoy's
peaceful, unconscious figure. The only indication of the ebbing life
was the soft beeps of the monitor.

Spock walked up to the bio-bed, and with one finger slid a lock of
mousy hair off the doctor's eyes.

---

"Keep away from me," hissed McCoy.

"You cannot kill me, Doctor, and there are many more of us."

"I said keep away from me!" He struggled.

The figure was losing patience. "Lie still so you can be assimilated."

McCoy closed his eyes as he felt something pierce his temple. "It
hurts."

Suddenly hands were on his arms and he opened his eyes with a start.

"Leonard, it is I."

It was Spock! Standing in front of him. "Spock? Is it really you?"

"Yes Leonard." Then, Spock smiled at him. A full elfin grin.

McCoy gaped at the Vulcan in horror. "NO it isn't...you just smiled at
me!"

"It is really me. Inside your head. I do have emotions, you realize, I
just don't show them on the outside."

"What are you talking about, the outside?"

"We are in your head. I've mind melded with you."

"What happened to the alien?"

"There is nothing here, Leonard. You have slipped into a coma as a
result of the double pneumonia you are suffering."

One word jumped out at the doctor. "Coma? I'm in a coma?" McCoy asked,
incredulously.

"Affirmative."

"And M'Benga can't bring me out of it with all his damn training on
Vulcan? Hell, I must be pretty far gone then." McCoy giggled
maniacally.

Spock lifted up McCoy to a standing position. "No time for levity.
Come on Leonard."

"Where're we going?"

"I am taking you home."

McCoy suddenly flew into a rage. "NO!" he said, with wide blue eyes
blazing. "I don't believe you. You're not really Spock!"

"Now, you are being ridiculous. Who else would I be?"

"I don't know, an impostor. Trying to take me deeper into this alien
ship."

"Doctor, we are not in an alien ship, we're trapped deep into your
mind. I don't know how I can prove to you who I really am, but you are
going to have to trust me. But you have to trust me NOW, as we are
running out of time. You are dying."

"I don't believe you. It's them!"

"Come on, Leonard McCoy," Spock insisted.

"No! I can't!" McCoy held onto the examination table tightly.

Spock sighed and mustered up the proper emotion to frighten the doctor
with: "DAMMIT! Come with me, NOW!!" he shouted.

McCoy, with terrified eyes, got up quickly. Spock slid an arm around
McCoy's waist, threw the doctor's arm around his shoulder and
supported his weight.

The pair pressed onward to try to find a way out. They staggered down
many passageways; some with dead ends, where they had to retrace their
steps. They stopped to rest.

It smelt so dank and moldy in this part of the passageway of McCoy's
mind. He could feel darkness creeping up unto him. "Spock, I'm going
to pass out..." he said, numbly.

That alarmed Spock. "No! If you lose consciousness, you will die."

"I can't help it Spock," McCoy said softly. "I can feel it."

"Then I am with you." Spock took McCoy by the shoulders. "If you come
home, I will go with you. But, if you choose to die, I will die, here
with you."

"Spock, whose idea was it for you to do a dangerous thing like mind
melding with a dying man?" Before Spock could reply, McCoy twigged.
"Oh yeah, it was your idea. Nobody knows you're doing this."

"Come on, Leonard. Time is of the essence."

"Kiss me," McCoy suddenly demanded. Spock pulled McCoy into the most
passionate kiss the doctor had ever experienced in his life. "Uhhh..."
McCoy moaned till it transformed into a sob. "Oh God...I love
you...Spock!" Spock's mouth slid down to the doctor's neck while his
hands moved up the doctor's bare back. "I'm sorry...I can't go on,
Spock. I'm blacking out."

"No..." gasped Spock. "No!" McCoy could hear the Vulcan's voice crack
with emotion and it unnerved him.

---

Spock's eyes snapped open. He found he was back in the sickbay at
McCoy's bedside; fingers still resting on McCoy's temples. He slowly
removed them, looking for signs of life in McCoy. Glancing up at the
monitor, he noted with satisfaction that the doctor's vital signs read
normal.

Spock slapped the doctor's face, lightly. "Doctor. Wake up." He
slapped McCoy's face harder. "McCoy!"

McCoy opened his eyes. "Okay. Spock. No need to hit me. What do you
want?"

"Welcome back, Doctor."

---

After the long stream of well wishers to his bedside had left, Doctor
McCoy stretched wonderfully and yawned. Since he was recovering so
well, the need for the medical stop at Star Base III was cancelled.
Instead, they were headed there for some well deserved shore leave;
all were looking forward to it, especially McCoy. It was giving him
some incentive to get better. Now he just had to get rid of these last
two stragglers.

"I made it up to code gold resuscitation, Jim! Those sensor arrows
were down to the bottom. Impressive, isn't it," McCoy bragged.

Kirk looked over at Spock who looked up at the ceiling. "Uh, whatever
you say, Bones. But I'm glad you're back. I put it into my log that it
was quite the adventure for you and Spock. Now I'm going to go get
some needed sleep after worrying about you all this time."

"Ah hell, Jim. I'm glad to BE back."

"And...Happy Leap Year, Bones."

"What? It's still January."

"Spock, tell him."

"Doctor, it's stardate 5129.2. You've been unconscious for one
standard month."

"Are you kidding me? Well, this is a hell of way to celebrate it,
stuck in a damn sickbay bed. And, I can't have a drink because of all
this crap I'm on."

Kirk chuckled. "Good night, Bones!" He patted McCoy's leg and walked
towards the door. "Spock," he called to the first officer standing
with his arms folded in the corner. "Want to start a new game of chess
tomorrow?"

"That would be a welcome change of pace. I would indeed."

"He means yes, Jim!" chuckled McCoy.

Kirk laughed his way though the swoosh of the doors.

The Vulcan remained behind with arms still folded; studying the doctor
intently.

"Spock," said McCoy gravely, lowering his head. "Thanks for saving my
life. I am forever in your debt."

"You did the same for me."

"Well, of course. I am the doctor around here, usually. Unlike you who
practices medicine without a license every chance he gets," McCoy
chuckled. "Spock, just accept the thanks, okay? And, why do you keep
staring at me like that?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. Was it possible that the human did not
remember anything that had transpired? "I am... merely satisfying my
curiosity that your mind is intact. After your ordeal."

"I seem to be feeling okay. Are you okay, Spock?"

"I have recovered. I trust that you will also, recover completely,"
observed Spock without taking his eyes off of McCoy.

"Yes," smiled McCoy. "Yes I will, thanks to you and Geoff and all
these meds I've been shot with; turning my stomach."

"In that case, I will take my leave of you."

"Oh, Okay. Well, see ya later, Mister Spock."

"Good night. Doctor McCoy." Spock nodded at him and walked towards the
doors.

"Spock?" called McCoy. "There's just one more thing."

"Yes?"

McCoy grinned at him. "Are you going to give me my ring back, or are
you going to keep wearing it as some sort of memento?"

Spock gazed down at McCoy and the corners of his lips turned into a
slight smirk. He walked up to the bio-bed, slid the ring off his own
pinky, picked up McCoy's hand and slipped it onto McCoy's finger. He
held on to the hand, and waited.

McCoy peered up at the Vulcan with a glint in his blue eyes. "I love
you, Spock," he stated, simply and softly.

"And, I love you. Leonard," Spock replied deliberately and low enough
for only McCoy to hear.

McCoy held his breath. "Are you certain about this Spock? Do you know
what you are getting yourself into?"

"Yes," said Spock. "I have never been more certain."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Yeah, why not. I guess you're telling me not to look a gift horse in
the mouth...but...is this real? I don't really know if I'm dead or
not. It feels odd. Am I dead?"

Spock grabbed the human by both shoulders. "You are home."

"Yes, but something doesn't feel right. It feels strange."

"You're home," the Vulcan intoned.

McCoy searched the Vulcan's eyes, then finally relaxed. "You're right.
I'm home. It's perfect," he smiled. "Stay here with me, Spock. Please.
Unless you have to go on duty," he murmured.

Spock's eyes lit up as he sat down next to the doctor on the bed. "I
will stay with you. Always. As I told you before."

In the quiet of the ICU, McCoy leaned back to enjoy the comfort and
warmth of the sickbay bed.

He felt the touch of the Vulcan's fingers on his face then felt them
caress his lips, then slide down his arm to pick up his hand. McCoy
enjoyed the touch and pondered the subject of beginnings. Wonderful
beginnings. Something wonderful and new was happening in the present,
here with Spock. He didn't know exactly, why. Or whether he deserved
it, but who cares.

Yet, he felt... something terrible was about to happen in the future.
As he relaxed further, he found his mind returning to of the plight
of the humanoids on the planet. It haunted him. The sight. But, he
forced himself to quit thinking about it, for now. It could wait for
the report to the captain. But why did he feel so odd?

'You've just been though alot, McCoy,' he thought to himself. 'That's
all it is. You're fine. Time to suck it up. Things will get back to
normal soon.' He thought about many more things to himself, then found
his eyelids getting heavy.

"Falling asleep?" Spock asked softly as he ordered the lights down to
ten percent.

"Yeah," McCoy murmured. "I'm trying not to. But resistance... would be
futile. You know?"

Spock allowed himself a slight smile as he gazed at the human. "Yes, I
know."

---

The End