Night 58: M41-M50 Hallway

[corvus_veritas]

[M41]

For the first time that Byrne could remember in the four or five days he'd been here, the night began without any sort of dramatic fanfare. No mysterious intercom broadcast, no creepy static, no doctors coming in to drag him away again, no nothing. Just the usual unlocking of the doors and silence.

The staff were trying to find new ways to

Comments

M41

[dual_worlds]

((From here.))

After entering the block, Spock did a routine sweep with his flashlight in order to make certain that he wasn't in any immediate danger. Fortunately, the area appeared clear, and he continued into the next hallway that would lead him to McCoy's quarters.

The room was toward the end of the hall, but labeled clearly as M41. Although it was customary for humans to knock, Spock had never fallen into the habit of doing so, particularly since most doors in Starfleet were automated. Instead, he straightened his posture and verbally announced his presence.

"Dr. McCoy," he said, loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door, but still quiet enough not to draw any unnecessary attention from surrounding patients. "This is Commander Spock. May I enter your quarters?"

[hes_deadjim]

McCoy huddled on the bed, legs drawn up, and arms wrapped around his head. It didn't do a thing for the migraine. He was pretty sure by now that, short of something strong enough to put a horse down, nothing would work, and he didn't have those on hand that he thought he could safely use. At least, McCoy tried to be optimistic, he was still at the point where he was thinking about safe dosage. Other than prevent his head from coming off his spine, curling up like this didn't do much. He tightened his arms and tried to stop thinking.

It worked for all of about a few seconds, and his mind was racing, thundering on like some Klingon war machine. He hadn't slept a wink. He hadn't thought of anything else since lunch shift other than what he'd done, the incredibly stupid, irresponsible, desperate thing he'd asked for. Even by his books, he couldn't think of anything so stupid. Jim and Spock, even on their worst stunts on away missions, suddenly looked like pinnacles of common sense.

He was insane. He had to be to even consider letting a

[dual_worlds]

Although he had been fully prepared to enter the man's quarters and begin preparations for their meld, McCoy imposed his body in the doorway, apparently fixated and keeping him outside. Spock's eyebrows faintly knit together, but he gave no further outward reaction toward the scathing insults

[hes_deadjim]

Spock was supposed to leave. McCoy nervously shifted from one foot to the other when Spock remained where he was.

"Look, you half-breed," McCoy began. Either he'd get Spock to violence if he went far enough, which would probably leave McCoy dead: infinitely better than being rendered a vegetable, or he'd get him to leave. Seemed like a win-win considering the alternative. "What part of 'no' didn't you get

[dual_worlds]

Although Spock recognized the malicious intent behind McCoy's words, he understood the doctor had already lost much of his capacity for rational thought. After what he'd experienced in the wake of Vulcan's destruction, it would take more than a few ill-crafted insults regarding his mixed heritage to draw an emotional reaction. Spock straightened his shoulders as he stayed alert, but his hands remained steady at his sides. After all, any sudden movements ran the risk of further provoking McCoy

[hes_deadjim]

Adequate treatment, as if Spock was guaranteed to give it instead, McCoy thought disdainfully. At least the medical staff, while unethical, or at least, their boss was, had actual training. But they had generally ignored his requests before. McCoy was banking on the new "management", who, aside from the drug trials last night, seemed less interested in experiment on them and more interested in keeping them in one piece for some purpose. The odds were better. Not a lot, but a little change was an improvement

[dual_worlds]

McCoy had difficulty making eye contact, but so far he wasn't showing signs of becoming physically violent. Even so, Spock remained still as he patiently waited for the doctor to respond to his assessment. At this point, the Vulcan understood he needed to be ready to handle a variety of outcomes. If McCoy sent him on his way, then perhaps there would be future opportunities to correct his condition. But with his current instability, Spock believed the odds of McCoy approaching him again decreased with each passing day

[hes_deadjim]

McCoy couldn't help it. He started to tense like a overly wound spring as Spock came in. The urge to strike him, or at least, get that flash light and knock him cold, run, was strong. He could see it happening as clearly as if he'd only just gone through with it. It wouldn't be easy. Spock was fast, and he'd have to do it before he got nerve pinched again. Just make a mad dash for the flashlight,and turn on Spock, who'd probably be on him by then, bring it down his skull, just like Jim had with that ceramic in sickbay. McCoy felt his weight shift towards where he'd left the heavy light. He had to fold his arms across his chest to stop himself. After a moment, he let Spock go past him, keeping the door closer to McCoy's back as the First Officer settled inside the room

[dual_worlds]

Although Spock would have preferred to keep the door shut for privacy reasons, he caught the grateful expression on McCoy's face. So far he was making every effort to proceed as delicately as possible, and it appeared he had yet to outright provoke the doctor. That did not mean he could let his guard down, however. During the course of the meld, they would both be in a vulnerable position

[hes_deadjim]

McCoy didn't look at all reassured that Spock had "formal training". What was that supposed to even mean? By who? The Vulcan Science Institute? And what did that mean to everyone non-Vulcan, cause it didn't mean a damn thing to McCoy. It wasn't like the Vulcans were that forthcoming about their society or medical issues, like pon farr, so really, Spock could have said he was certified to sell Tiberian snake oil for all the good it did him

[dual_worlds]

Impatience would only increase the chances for mistakes later, which was why Spock was careful and deliberate during his preparations. Fortunately, McCoy didn't need to wait much longer. He opened his eyes and looked to the doctor. "Yes," he quietly answered. With their close proximity, it wasn't necessary to move much closer. "I will raise my hand to initiate the meld now

[hes_deadjim]

Why did he open his big mouth? This was a bad idea. The worst idea he'd ever come up with, and that was saying a lot over his life time. McCoy couldn't help it. He started to recoil, just a little, when long fingers came at his face, and then, before he could scoot back on his butt, they were on his face

[dual_worlds]

Spock saw a flood of images -- snapshots of life aboard the other Enterprise they'd once visited together, as clear and real as if they were his own. This alone was not unusual, however, and the Vulcan allowed himself to soak in the new information.

When they were being led down the corridor by a man who bore a startling resemblance to Spock (who was Spock), he began to gain a clearer understanding of the irrational fears coloring McCoy's thoughts, feelings and actions. This man (this Spock) was the root of McCoy's pain. He had done something, something to upset the balance of McCoy's entire psyche, something that now sent powerful waves crashing against the corners of their joined minds.

Even in the face of McCoy's fitful reaction, though, Spock stood his ground and further extended his tranquil presence. Anyone less skilled could have been swept away, but he'd been prepared for this possibility.

Something happened. That much was clear, but Spock was still trying to sort through McCoy's scattered thoughts in order to gain a

[hes_deadjim]

The doctor felt Spock's presence settle over the chaos like a smothering blanket. McCoy wanted to rail against it, even as he calmed. He didn't want to share Spock's serenity. Maybe it would have been soothing any other time, but to McCoy, it was about the same as being hit with tranquilizer dart. Abrupt, invasive, and someone else's doing. Bad enough Spock even had the ability to get close to someone on this level in the first place, but to get someone to feel his mood? It wasn't right, he thought placidly

[dual_worlds]

McCoy had been the one to permit contact, and yet he wasn't acting terribly cooperative. That was another reason to go through his thoughts as quickly as possible. Normally it was an instantaneous process, like his meld with one of Nero's men, and more recently his joining with Kirk shortly after his lapse in identity. However, the CMO wasn't in his normal state of mind. They needed to proceed with caution.

More fragmented memories, some blending in and running into each other like the canvas of a chaotic painting. Thoughts of his daughter, his anxieties concerning his absence from the Enterprise, and the bearded Spock from a different universe flashed through their joined minds. Although they betrayed the mixture of emotions bubbling beneath the surface, they did little to help Spock assess the situation.

Something happened, he thought again, gently, as a way to steer their journey in a more steady direction. What was it?

[hes_deadjim]

You were hurt. Couldn't leave you there to die. McCoy thought back frantically. You were probably the only honorable one in that hell. Couldn't leave you to die. He could see it again, just as if it was only a few minutes ago. That other Spock out on the table while he promised Jim he'd be there in five minutes. Jim and the rest of the crew leaving them alone. 'd just administered the drug. The effects should only take a minute. He'd be gone before Spock could finish what he started