After It All 2/2 (fanfiction-Star Trek)
Title: After It All 2/2
Author: slash4femme
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing/Category: Spock Prime/McCoy, Spock/Kirk
Rating: PG-13
Warning: mental intimacy, MPreg, and talk of McCoy not being present in part of his both daughters' lives.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I do not make money off of doing this. The only thing I'm getting out of this is pure unadulterated creative enjoyment and less hours for me to spend doing my real work.
Summary: Spock Prime and McCoy, trying to make a family. What could possibly go wrong?
Author Note: This is the sequel to Not Quite Lost, Not Quite Found. Also written for this prompt at st_xi_kink_meme. Beta read by cardiac_logic who is just wonderful.
part one: http://slash4femme.livejournal.com/55079.html
I.
By the time Sarek comes back with their tea McCoy has managed to get himself out of his earlier panic and thinking clearly. He knows what’s going on now, mostly because he’d been a part of the medical team that had looked into the response if something like this happened. Their child, their daughter, is being implanted into Spock. That doesn’t mean McCoy’s happy about it. He knows this whole thing is new and risky at best, for both Spock and the child. There are hundreds of things that could go wrong, and his mind helpfully reminds him of every single one. His hands are still shaking and he clenches them together in his lap, and for the first time he tries to reach out to Spock through their link but Spock is blocking him completely. He can tell the other man is still alive, but that’s all.
Sarek hands him a cup of tea wordlessly and McCoy takes it, holds it tightly in both hands to keep himself from spilling it. He tries to concentrate on the fact that Sarek, in his own Vulcan way, had said it would be all right. He’s a doctor though, and Sarek isn’t, and he’s worked on designing this and it could very well not be all right. Spock is so much older than the average member of the Vulcan colony. There are three different levels of surgical implantation that need to take place, and there could be complications with any one of them. Then, too, their daughter might die before Spock’s body is ready to have her, or she could die during the implantation, or Spock’s body could reject her and they could both die. McCoy clamps down hard on the feeling of nausea that rises up in him. He’s done surgery this complicated himself; he should be able to handle this. He takes several deep, calming breaths and concentrates on making his hands stop shaking. Sarek seems to be perfectly calm sitting opposite McCoy, drinking his tea; McCoy suddenly irrationally hates him for it. He stands, paces across the small alcove, then turns and paces back. He walks over to the window just beside the alcove and looks out into the early morning semidarkness and sighs. He sips his tea and closes his eyes, leaning against the windowsill. He tells himself firmly it will be all right, the doctors here are some of the best he’s ever worked with, it will be all right. He thinks of Kirk and the Commander, wishes suddenly that he wasn’t so alone here, wishes they were there too. He could really use a friend right now.
II.
By the time one of the doctors comes to find him, he’s worked his way through three cups of tea and a cup of coffee, and left the small group of chairs only twice to go to the bathroom.
“Doctor McCoy.”
He stands although it’s not necessary, “Yes.”
“The surgeries and implantation are completed,” the doctor tells him without inflection. “Both your bondmate and child are in acceptable condition.”
The relief that washes over McCoy is almost physically painful. “Oh thank God.” For a moment he concentrates on breathing, feeling slightly like he might fall down. “Can I see them?”
The doctor gives him a strange look. “Ambassador Spock is not conscious and is not expected to be so for some time.”
“Yes,” McCoy snaps, the aftermath of the worry and terror he’s been holding inside himself making him irritable. “Yes, I know that. I’d like to see him anyway.”
The doctor simply inclines his head slightly and leads the way.
Spock looks small, drawn and very old, lying on one of the hospital’s biobeds surrounded by a clear sterilization film, which stands like a thin yet impenetrable barrier between Spock and McCoy. McCoy knows it’s standard regulations to have it there for the first several hours after a major surgery of this nature, but the only thing he can think of right now is that he can’t touch Spock and he wants desperately to touch him. For now he sits next to the bed and watches Spock’s chest rise and fall, counts his breaths, and watches the monitors.
III.
McCoy’s been sitting there for the last couple hours holding Spock’s hand, reading the monitors, when Spock finally opens his eyes.
“Leonard.” His voice is harsh and scratchy and McCoy drops his hand and sags back into his chair.
“Spock.” He swallows hard and runs his fingers through his hair, before reaching out and taking Spock’s hand again. “Our daughter’s fine,” he tells Spock softly; his voice comes out rougher than it should and he can’t stop it from shaking slightly. “Everything went the way it should. You’re both going to be ok.”
Spock only closes his eyes again and drifts back off to sleep, and McCoy lets himself slump forward and press his forehead against their clasped hands. He takes several long, careful breaths, then just sits like that for a long moment before letting go of Spock’s hand and standing. He leaves the hospital room and makes his way down several floors to his own office. He showers in the small shower in the little room off his office that also has a cot in it. He changes into the spare set of clothes he keeps there as well, and gulps down a nutrition bar and yet another cup of Vulcan tea before heading back up to the prenatal wing. Once there he stops in at Spock’s room to check the monitors yet again and then goes in search of Spock’s doctors.
IV.
McCoy message Kirk several days later when he goes to the house to pick up stuff for himself and Spock. He explains what happened and what they’re doing, trying to sound calm and almost succeeding. He explains that both Spock and the baby are fine, and will probably be fine. He doesn’t play up the possible complications that could take place, although they constantly play through his mind.
“I hope you two haven’t killed each other yet. And that you’ve had that talk with Spock,” he tells Kirk before he sends the message.
Spock is sitting up in bed when McCoy gets back to the hospital. He looks up from the PADD he’s been reading. “I spoke with the doctor on duty; she tells me I will be released to return to the house within the week.”
McCoy nods, setting down the bag he’s brought. “That’s right; I’ll be taking care of you and we should probably talk about what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not.” Spock raises his eyebrows at him and McCoy sits down next to the bed, softening his professional tone by taking Spock’s free hand in his own. “First off, once we get home you can’t leave the house.” He raises one hand to forestall Spock’s protest. “We have no idea how the radiation from this planet will affect you or our daughter. I know it’s harmless under normal circumstances, even normal pregnancy, but this isn’t a normal circumstance and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to take a chance with either one of your lives. Also it would be best if you stayed prone most of the time. You can shower, use the bathroom and so on, maybe get up and move around the house once or twice a day, but most of the time you’re going to have to be lying down. I also don’t want you going anywhere without this.” McCoy roots around in the bag before coming up with a small rectangular device. “This is an emergency monitor; it’ll track the vital signs of both you and the baby and alert me and the doctors here if either set drops below a certain level.” He squeezes Spock’s hand in his own. “Ok, that’s all the non-negotiable stuff.”
Spock’s eyes crinkle into his own version of a smile. “Those terms are acceptable, Leonard, given the circumstances. And what are the negotiable aspects of this arrangement?”
“What you eat, mostly,” McCoy tells him and then leans forward and kisses Spock gently. “How much I’m there, that kind of thing.”
Spock regards him quietly, a very gentle expression on his face. “You do tend to hover,” he notes. “I imagine after a certain period of time it will become tiresome for both of us.” He gently tugs McCoy closer using the hands that they still have clasped together and gently presses the tips of his fingers against McCoy’s cheek in a small caress. McCoy turns his face slightly and kisses the tips of Spock’s fingers.
“I’ll try to keep my hovering professional,” he tells Spock with a small smile.
“Leonard?”
“Yes Spock?”
“Go back to the house tonight.” Spock squeezes his hand gently, “You need rest. It is illogical for you to sacrifice your health in favor of watching me sleep when I am surrounded by medical staff.”
McCoy opens his mouth to argue and then actually thinks about it. Finally he sighs and shakes his head. “You’re right.” He rubs one hand over his eyes. “Tonight I’ll go home.”
When he gets back to the house that night the light on his computer is blinking, telling him he has a new message. He clicks his computer on and opens it. Kirk looks tired and kind of pissed off.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asks accusingly, without any kind of greeting or explanation. “I would have come if you needed me, Bones.” McCoy sighs and rubs one hand across his face, but still it makes him feel good. He’d known, intellectually he’d known, that if he had asked, Kirk would have come back to New Vulcan to be with him, but it’s good to hear the other man actually say it. “We had an away mission go bad,” Kirk tells him. “We lost an Ensign almost immediately and I got roughed up a bit.” McCoy squints at the screen and tries to tell if that means that Kirk wasn’t hurt that badly or Kirk just didn’t think it was that bad, because in his experience the two were vastly different things. “Chris works well under pressure but she’s not you,” Kirk adds, looking vaguely wistful and McCoy stamps down on the feeling of guilt that threatens to rise up at that. “And no, I haven’t had that conversation with Spock yet; it just hasn’t been the right time.” Kirk ends the message and McCoy stares at the screen for a moment.
V.
“Leonard, you are hovering.” Spock looks up from the couch in his house to where McCoy is standing by the counter. “I assure you that I am fine; our child is also fine.”
McCoy sighs. “I know; it’s just you’re not at the hospital anymore, which makes me your primary healthcare provider.”
Spock watches him carefully and then holds out his hand toward McCoy, who goes and sits next to him on the couch. Now that Spock is no longer in a hospital biobed and is again dressed in his normal clothes, it has become very obvious that he is carrying a child. McCoy reaches out and places a hand against Spock’s swollen stomach.
“Can you feel her?”
“Yes.” Spock covers McCoy’s hand briefly before taking McCoy’s other hand in both of his. “I can feel her bonded to me as we are bonded. Except of course that ours is a marriage bond and the one I share with her is between child and parent.”
McCoy presses his hand a little harder against Spock’s stomach through his robes, “What does her bond feel like?”
Spock shakes his head. “I cannot describe that.”
They sit quietly for a moment and then McCoy moves a little, taking his hand away from Spock’s belly and pulling Spock by the other hand. “We should get you into bed.” Spock doesn’t frown but he doesn’t look pleased either and McCoy sighs, “I warned you that you’d been spending most of your time in bed. It’s nerve wracking enough for me as it is having you up at all, imagining all the medical complications that could be going on.” He stands and gently tugs Spock into a standing position. “Come on.” Spock allows himself to be led into the bedroom and McCoy watches as Spock carefully and a little awkwardly lowers himself onto the bed. “Do you want me to stay?” he asks, bending down to kiss Spock lightly.
“There is really no reason to do so,” Spock points out, and McCoy rolls his eyes.
“Fine then, I’ll come back in a little while to see if you’re hungry.”
McCoy turns and makes his way to Spock’s office where McCoy’s own computer is set up. He tries not to think about how nervous he is. On the one hand he’s glad Spock is back home with him and that both he and their daughter are safe. On the other hand his mind can’t stop going over and over all of the ways this could go wrong.
He tabs on his computer and brings up a message to Kirk. “Jim. I’m sorry you lost someone on the away mission, and you know I’ll be back as soon as I can. Spock’s back home and both he and our daughter are fine. And for God’s sake talk to the Spock over on your end.” He ends the message and sends it.
VI.
Spock is sleeping when McCoy brings him food that evening. McCoy sets down the tray and then sits on the bed next to the other man, just watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, before Spock shifts and opens his eyes.
“Leonard.” Spock looks tired and old in his rumpled clothes, hair slightly messy, dark circles under his eyes. He’s happy though, as much as Spock ever is, and McCoy realizes he can tell Spock’s moods; he’s not sure how, but he’s just aware of them and right now Spock is content.
“Spock.” McCoy feels suddenly very emotional and has to look away, “I brought you dinner.”
Spock reaches out and catches McCoy’s hand in his own; pulling McCoy a little closer next to him on the bed he gently kisses the other man, slow and deep. McCoy’s free hand comes to press against the side of Spock’s face and he feels Spock’s presence inside his mind; he breaks off the kiss with a little gasp. Spock watches him carefully, but McCoy doesn’t pull away or tell him to stop. They sit there together as Spock slowly opens their bond, something he has only ever done during sex.
“Spock I . . .” McCoy starts and then breaks off, as the full impact of everything Spock is washes over him.
Spock’s finger presses against his lips for a moment. “We will eat dinner later,” Spock tells him, and McCoy only nods and closes his eyes, leaning his head against Spock’s shoulder, and lets Spock’s mind envelop his.
He comes back to himself later, with the feeling of Spock gently stroking his hair. McCoy cups the back of Spock’s neck and kisses him hard, letting one hand stroke down his neck, shoulders and body as he does it. “I love you,” McCoy says softly, lips only a little ways from Spock’s, hand still firmly on the back of the other man’s head, “You know that, right?”
Spock reaches up to touch McCoy’s face gently, just resting his fingers against McCoy’s cheek. Deep inside his mind McCoy senses Spock’s answer, but Spock doesn’t say it out loud.
VII.
“We need to talk about names for our daughter.” Spock is sitting on the couch watching McCoy water the potted plants in the living room. McCoy has been helping Spock transplant some of the plants from the garden into pots for the living room since Spock can no longer go out into the garden.
“Oh so now we’re going to have that argument.” McCoy smiles at him, “I was thinking I might like to name her after my mother or grandmother . . .”
Spock looks down at the tea he’s been drinking with toast on the side. For several long moments they are silent. “I would prefer if we gave her a Vulcan name,” Spock finally states and McCoy nods, not surprised, having already expected it.
He takes the watering nozzle back outside to the gardening shed and puts it way. On his way back to the house he lingers in the garden. When Joanna had been born he had wanted to name her Mary after his mother or Grace after his grandmother. Jocelyn hadn’t wanted that and in the end he’d figured it really didn’t matter what his daughter’s name was, she was still his daughter. He’d fucked that up in the end and he was still trying to figure out how to make it right again, and now he was having another daughter.
Spock wants to give her a Vulcan name and he understands that. Spock’s Vulcan identity is extremely important to him, what has defined him as a person for most of his life, even as that frustrates McCoy sometimes. Also their daughter would be more readily accepted on New Vulcan with a Vulcan name.
There are no benches in Spock’s garden. Perhaps Spock never saw any logic in having them. McCoy stands there for a long moment just looking. It matters to him, he realizes, this thing about names, and it matters to Spock and he’s not sure how to reconcile that. When he finally comes back into the house he finds Spock has moved to the bedroom and is asleep.
VIII.
“Ok, the thing is,” Kirk says on the screen as soon as McCoy opens the message, “we kind of ran into trouble out here. There were these aliens and they brainwashed pretty much the entire crew and then they took Spock, and they were going to torture him and use his DNA for something, I really wasn’t paying much attention to that part.” Kirk pauses for a moment, just long enough to allow McCoy to start panicking. Although he tells himself if Spock was dead not only would Kirk have started off with that fact but McCoy knows he would have heard something officially. “Most of us snapped out of it pretty quickly after the aliens got off the ship but I realized that there was a really good chance they’d just take control of anyone I put on a rescue party to go get Spock.” There’s another long pause and Kirk isn’t looking at the screen anymore but down and away at something McCoy can’t see. “I really wish you’d been there,” Kirk finally says, softly dragging one hand across his face and McCoy suddenly realizes how tired he looks. “Not that I wanted you to be brainwashed or anything, but there was this moment when I was trying to figure out what to do, when I thought . . .” Kirk swallows and goes silent and McCoy waits because that’s really all he can do with a computer recording. “I thought it might be better for everyone . . . that I might have to . . . I thought about leaving him behind.” McCoy stares at the screen in shock. Kirk’s face has gotten all closed off and expressionless, at least for Kirk, and he looks a lot older. “Of course I didn’t,” he says after a long moment. “We went and got him and it all worked out ok in the end; nobody died or anything.” Kirk sighs then, drops his head back, eyes closed for a moment, and then looks back at the screen. “You know what scares me though, Bones? It’s that I think I’d actually be able to do it. If there was no other way. Even Spock, I’d sacrifice even Spock if I had to. Hell, I think he expected me to this time. He told me it was the logical thing to do.” Kirk closes his eyes again and McCoy can’t possibly miss the pain. “I look at what you and the Ambassador have and I think I’m never going to able to have that because one day I’m going to have to watch him die and it’s going to be my fault.” McCoy’s hands clench into fists at that, and on the screen Kirk runs one hand across his face again. “I wish you were here,” he says finally. “I need you here.”
McCoy stares at the screen long after the message ends and it goes dark. Finally he opens up a new message, only text this time.
I’ll be back soon, he writes and then sends it.
IX.
“We need to talk,” McCoy says, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom.
Spock looks up from the article he’s been reading. “Yes, Leonard?”
“It’s about our daughter.” McCoy walks across the room and sits on the bed. He takes several deep breaths and for a moment just sits there quietly. “I love her; you know that. I love you both, and I can’t imagine losing either one of you and that night when I thought it might happen was one of the scariest of my life.” He takes another deep breath and keeps going, “I wasn’t ready to have this child now, though. I’ve already done this once, Spock, and I messed it up and I’m a member of Starfleet and Jim needs me on the Enterprise. I want to be the best father possible to this child and that’s going to be hard, hard for all of us, with me on a Starship.” Spock is watching him without saying anything, without giving anything away and McCoy clasps his hands together to keep them from shaking. “You and the Vulcan Council decided we were going to have this child now though, so I said yes and we are and I don’t regret that we are; I will never regret that we are, I only regret the timing.” He sighs and shuts his eyes, clenching his hands tighter together. “You and the Vulcan Council decided that our daughter will be raised here on New Vulcan as a Vulcan I am going to go along with that. Hell, if she decides she wants to do the whole repressed emotions, Vulcan philosophy thing I’d be ok with that too. Hell, you and the Vulcan Council decided she was going to be as completely Vulcan as possible before she was even conceived.” McCoy doesn’t look at Spock; he can’t look at Spock. “But this isn’t the Vulcan Council’s child, and this isn’t just your child either; this is our child, our child who is genetically three quarters human, and I want to give her a human name.” He finally looks up at Spock who’s watching him with a look on his face that McCoy was not expecting. Spock’s expression is almost impossibly gentle for a Vulcan; McCoy hadn’t been expecting that and for a moment he’s at a loss as to what to say. “My mother died when I was ten,” McCoy says finally, very softly. “She was a scientist and her lab blew up; my father . . . was . . .being a parent wasn’t his first priority, so my grandparents raised me and my sisters. My grandmother was so happy when I decided to be a doctor, but she died before I finished my residency.” McCoy looks up at Spock finally, “I want to name our daughter after her. This is important to me.”
Spock moves finally, making a gesture as if to touch McCoy, but McCoy can’t do that. He suddenly feels very raw and very vulnerable and he moves before Spock can touch him. He gets off the bed and leaves the room, moving through the house, finally outside into the garden. There is no bench so he sits on the grass, wrapping his arms around his knees, and watches the clouds move across the sky.
Spock is making dinner in the kitchen when McCoy finally comes back into the house. McCoy frowns as he watches Spock move slowly and awkwardly around the little space in his loose-fitting robes. He considers telling Spock that he’s not supposed to be up on his feet like this. Spock turns to look at him, setting aside the food.
“You are right,” Spock tells him without inflection, “This is not just my child.”
McCoy’s whole body suddenly starts shaking uncontrollably, with what exactly he’s not sure. He goes to Spock, presses his face against the other man’s shoulder, mindful of Spock’s swollen middle and Spock puts his hands lightly around McCoy’s waist. “It’s not just you,” McCoy tells him quietly, “I’m worried about Jim too. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“No,” Spock’s voice is soft, as are his hands as they press against McCoy’s back. “you are right. Much about this has been the result of my decisions. Decisions I made because I believed them to be logical, but in doing so I have treated you as less than an equal in this. I have treated you as less than my mate.” He pulls back a little and runs his fingers lightly across McCoy’s face. “You are fiercely proud of being human and I would not love you as I do if you were not. Therefore I was in error for not realizing that this child’s human identity is as important to you as her Vulcan identity is to me.” Spock’s eyes crinkle into his own version of a smile. “I will endeavor to remember that you are not my mother,” he says, and McCoy snorts and kisses him lightly on the cheek.
“You’d better.”
“Indeed.”
McCoy finally draws away from Spock. “If you’re hungry I’ll cook you something, but you really shouldn’t be out of bed, you know.”
Spock does not sigh, but he does look like he wants to as McCoy ushers him back into the bedroom. “May I inquire?” Spock asks as he settles himself once more onto the bed, one hand coming to rest lightly on his stomach. McCoy scans him with his medical scanner and frowns when he realizes Spock’s ankles are slightly swollen. He digs through the medical equipment on the bedside table until he finds a hypospray.
“Inquire about what?”
“The name of your grandmother,” Spock clarifies, and McCoy sits down next to him on the bed and presses the hypo against the older man’s neck.
“Grace,” he tells Spock, and the other man inclines his head slightly and reaches for McCoy’s hand. “You still want her to have a Vulcan name,” McCoy states flatly, looking down at both their hands, and then Spock really does sigh.
“Grace is an appropriate name for this child,” he says simply after a long moment, and McCoy looks up at him with gratitude and then leans forward and kisses him hard.
X.
“Leonard.” Spock shakes him awake hard and McCoy flails around briefly trying to figure out what time it is. “Leonard, you must wake up.”
McCoy is fully awake in an instant. “Spock?”
“It’s time,” Spock says, and McCoy can see his face is very pale and drawn. For a brief instant McCoy panics because they weren’t supposed to induce labor for another week or so. Then he’s up and moving, grabbing the emergency bags they’ve already packed and getting Spock up; he scans him with one hand as he leads them both through the house. There is absolutely no denying the fact that their child is giving off all the signs of wanting to be born and Spock’s body does not know how to deal with that. McCoy pulls out his emergency indicator and presses it, having them beamed straight from the living room the hospital.
There are nurses and doctors waiting for them in the hospital’s transporter room when they get there. The nurses hustle Spock away almost immediately to prep for surgery.
“It’s too soon,” McCoy tells the young doctor.
“The risks presented to both your mate and the child are acceptable,” the doctor tells him, and McCoy grits his teeth and reminds himself that they are Vulcans and therefore can’t help it.
“I want to be with him,” McCoy tells the young doctor, and the other man hesitates only a second before nodding.
“When he is ready for the operation I will have you notified.” He turns and is gone then, and McCoy slumps against the wall briefly before shaking himself hard. Last time he’d let his fear overcome his ability to cope, but he is not going to make the same mistake now.
He pulls out the handheld computer he’d actually managed to bring this time and messages Kirk, text only.
Spock went into labor.
When he sends it he sees that he also has an incoming message from Kirk, text only as well.
We’re bonded, it says. Spock’s fault. Long story. Tell you later.
McCoy stares at Kirk’s message, reading it again and then finally shakes his head and puts the computer away.
He turns around to see a nurse waiting for him. “Come with me,” she tells him without emotion and leads him down the hall to one of the operating theaters. They both step through the sterilization unit into the room, and McCoy goes straight to Spock. He stands by the bed and takes Spock’s hand. Spock still looks pale, drawn and much older than he normally looks, and McCoy reaches out and touches his cheek and realizes suddenly that Spock’s blocking him again.
“Don’t.” Spock opens his eyes and looks at him and McCoy fights back hard against his anger. “Don’t block me, darlin’, I’m strong enough to do this.” There isn’t any way McCoy could actually force Spock not to block him, but Spock merely closes his eyes again and eases off until McCoy can feel the bond as he normally can. McCoy feels that yes, Spock is in pain as his body fights against what is not supposed to be happening to it, and that the pain is only dulled slightly by the drugs they’ve given Spock, but McCoy sets his jaw and squeezes Spock’s hand hard.
McCoy tries to divide his attention between watching the doctor throughout the surgery and concentrating on Spock. McCoy holds Spock’s hand and strokes his face and thinks an endless stream of endearments at him even as he watches the doctors, making sure they’re doing everything right. Finally the doctors stand back and a nurse comes around toward him carrying a small, blanket-wrapped bundle even as another nurse begins administering more drugs to Spock. The doctors are also switching out the computers to begin the surgery that will undo what was done to Spock’s body to make him capable of carrying a child.
McCoy lets go of Spock’s hand so that he can takes his daughter into his arms. She is very small, vaguely green and not as smushed looking as he can remember Joanna being. Her tiny ears are slightly pointed, she has very dark, fuzzy hair that stands straight up from the top of her head and she doesn’t look at all pleased. He holds her tight against his chest, aware at the back of his mind of Spock slipping deeper into unconsciousness as the doctors work. He’s not sure how long he stands there, just staring at her, watching her breathe, also aware of Spock’s breathing even if he can’t see it.
“Doctor McCoy.” He looks up at one of the doctors and a nurse. He suddenly becomes very aware that he’s standing in a room full of Vulcans and that there are tears streaming down his face.
“Yes?” He wants to wipe his face but that would mean letting go of her partially and he can’t imagine even a little bit.
“Ambassador Spock has made it safely through the surgery; all of his vitals are within acceptable limits,” the doctor tells him. “Now we must test the child.”
The nurse reaches out for her and McCoy very reluctantly hands her over. He wipes one hand across his face and watches the nurses detach Spock from the computers and equipment and move the biobed through sterilization and out into the body of the hospital. He follows them and waits patiently while they clamp down the bed again and reattach the monitors. Finally he sits in the chair by the bed and watches Spock’s chest slowly rise and fall. He is acutely aware again of the sterilization film, and the fact that he can’t touch Spock again. He can watch Spock breathe though, and he concentrates on that, concentrates on feeling Spock through the bond at the back of his mind. He takes out his handheld computer when he can tear his eyes away from Spock and messages Sarek, before noticing there is another text only message from Kirk.
We are coming to New Vulcan, it says.
He closes his computer and settles back next to Spock, watching the monitors and watching him breathe. He’s not sure how much later it is when a nurse comes back into the room carrying his daughter wrapped in a white blanket. The nurse hands him the child and checks Spock’s monitors and then leaves.
“Grace,” he says softly to the little bundle in his arms. He tries not to think of his grandmother or he’ll start crying again. “Your father will be awake soon,” he tells her softly. “I’m not sure that he knows what to do with a baby, but he loves you very much anyway, and I love you very much too, little girl.”
She sleeps on and Spock sleeps and McCoy leans back and holds her tight against his chest, watches Spock breathe and waits. Soon Spock will wake up and Sarek will get there and eventually Kirk and Commander Spock will also be there, and everyone will get to meet their daughter. Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov, not to mention Christine, will probably also want to see her, and he’ll have to get the story of how exactly Kirk and Spock had ended up bonded. Plus he’s probably going to have to have a long talk with Kirk about this whole feeling responsible for everyone’s decisions thing. Spock’s going to have to figure out how to parent little Grace, especially since McCoy will be finishing his term of service aboard the Enterprise. Not to mention the Vulcan Council’s obvious stake in her life. It’s all very complicated and probably unfair, so much at stake in such a small child, so much that could go wrong. He holds Grace’s little body close and swears to her that they’ll make it work.
Author: slash4femme
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairing/Category: Spock Prime/McCoy, Spock/Kirk
Rating: PG-13
Warning: mental intimacy, MPreg, and talk of McCoy not being present in part of his both daughters' lives.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I do not make money off of doing this. The only thing I'm getting out of this is pure unadulterated creative enjoyment and less hours for me to spend doing my real work.
Summary: Spock Prime and McCoy, trying to make a family. What could possibly go wrong?
Author Note: This is the sequel to Not Quite Lost, Not Quite Found. Also written for this prompt at st_xi_kink_meme. Beta read by cardiac_logic who is just wonderful.
part one: http://slash4femme.livejournal.com/55079.html
I.
By the time Sarek comes back with their tea McCoy has managed to get himself out of his earlier panic and thinking clearly. He knows what’s going on now, mostly because he’d been a part of the medical team that had looked into the response if something like this happened. Their child, their daughter, is being implanted into Spock. That doesn’t mean McCoy’s happy about it. He knows this whole thing is new and risky at best, for both Spock and the child. There are hundreds of things that could go wrong, and his mind helpfully reminds him of every single one. His hands are still shaking and he clenches them together in his lap, and for the first time he tries to reach out to Spock through their link but Spock is blocking him completely. He can tell the other man is still alive, but that’s all.
Sarek hands him a cup of tea wordlessly and McCoy takes it, holds it tightly in both hands to keep himself from spilling it. He tries to concentrate on the fact that Sarek, in his own Vulcan way, had said it would be all right. He’s a doctor though, and Sarek isn’t, and he’s worked on designing this and it could very well not be all right. Spock is so much older than the average member of the Vulcan colony. There are three different levels of surgical implantation that need to take place, and there could be complications with any one of them. Then, too, their daughter might die before Spock’s body is ready to have her, or she could die during the implantation, or Spock’s body could reject her and they could both die. McCoy clamps down hard on the feeling of nausea that rises up in him. He’s done surgery this complicated himself; he should be able to handle this. He takes several deep, calming breaths and concentrates on making his hands stop shaking. Sarek seems to be perfectly calm sitting opposite McCoy, drinking his tea; McCoy suddenly irrationally hates him for it. He stands, paces across the small alcove, then turns and paces back. He walks over to the window just beside the alcove and looks out into the early morning semidarkness and sighs. He sips his tea and closes his eyes, leaning against the windowsill. He tells himself firmly it will be all right, the doctors here are some of the best he’s ever worked with, it will be all right. He thinks of Kirk and the Commander, wishes suddenly that he wasn’t so alone here, wishes they were there too. He could really use a friend right now.
II.
By the time one of the doctors comes to find him, he’s worked his way through three cups of tea and a cup of coffee, and left the small group of chairs only twice to go to the bathroom.
“Doctor McCoy.”
He stands although it’s not necessary, “Yes.”
“The surgeries and implantation are completed,” the doctor tells him without inflection. “Both your bondmate and child are in acceptable condition.”
The relief that washes over McCoy is almost physically painful. “Oh thank God.” For a moment he concentrates on breathing, feeling slightly like he might fall down. “Can I see them?”
The doctor gives him a strange look. “Ambassador Spock is not conscious and is not expected to be so for some time.”
“Yes,” McCoy snaps, the aftermath of the worry and terror he’s been holding inside himself making him irritable. “Yes, I know that. I’d like to see him anyway.”
The doctor simply inclines his head slightly and leads the way.
Spock looks small, drawn and very old, lying on one of the hospital’s biobeds surrounded by a clear sterilization film, which stands like a thin yet impenetrable barrier between Spock and McCoy. McCoy knows it’s standard regulations to have it there for the first several hours after a major surgery of this nature, but the only thing he can think of right now is that he can’t touch Spock and he wants desperately to touch him. For now he sits next to the bed and watches Spock’s chest rise and fall, counts his breaths, and watches the monitors.
III.
McCoy’s been sitting there for the last couple hours holding Spock’s hand, reading the monitors, when Spock finally opens his eyes.
“Leonard.” His voice is harsh and scratchy and McCoy drops his hand and sags back into his chair.
“Spock.” He swallows hard and runs his fingers through his hair, before reaching out and taking Spock’s hand again. “Our daughter’s fine,” he tells Spock softly; his voice comes out rougher than it should and he can’t stop it from shaking slightly. “Everything went the way it should. You’re both going to be ok.”
Spock only closes his eyes again and drifts back off to sleep, and McCoy lets himself slump forward and press his forehead against their clasped hands. He takes several long, careful breaths, then just sits like that for a long moment before letting go of Spock’s hand and standing. He leaves the hospital room and makes his way down several floors to his own office. He showers in the small shower in the little room off his office that also has a cot in it. He changes into the spare set of clothes he keeps there as well, and gulps down a nutrition bar and yet another cup of Vulcan tea before heading back up to the prenatal wing. Once there he stops in at Spock’s room to check the monitors yet again and then goes in search of Spock’s doctors.
IV.
McCoy message Kirk several days later when he goes to the house to pick up stuff for himself and Spock. He explains what happened and what they’re doing, trying to sound calm and almost succeeding. He explains that both Spock and the baby are fine, and will probably be fine. He doesn’t play up the possible complications that could take place, although they constantly play through his mind.
“I hope you two haven’t killed each other yet. And that you’ve had that talk with Spock,” he tells Kirk before he sends the message.
Spock is sitting up in bed when McCoy gets back to the hospital. He looks up from the PADD he’s been reading. “I spoke with the doctor on duty; she tells me I will be released to return to the house within the week.”
McCoy nods, setting down the bag he’s brought. “That’s right; I’ll be taking care of you and we should probably talk about what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not.” Spock raises his eyebrows at him and McCoy sits down next to the bed, softening his professional tone by taking Spock’s free hand in his own. “First off, once we get home you can’t leave the house.” He raises one hand to forestall Spock’s protest. “We have no idea how the radiation from this planet will affect you or our daughter. I know it’s harmless under normal circumstances, even normal pregnancy, but this isn’t a normal circumstance and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to take a chance with either one of your lives. Also it would be best if you stayed prone most of the time. You can shower, use the bathroom and so on, maybe get up and move around the house once or twice a day, but most of the time you’re going to have to be lying down. I also don’t want you going anywhere without this.” McCoy roots around in the bag before coming up with a small rectangular device. “This is an emergency monitor; it’ll track the vital signs of both you and the baby and alert me and the doctors here if either set drops below a certain level.” He squeezes Spock’s hand in his own. “Ok, that’s all the non-negotiable stuff.”
Spock’s eyes crinkle into his own version of a smile. “Those terms are acceptable, Leonard, given the circumstances. And what are the negotiable aspects of this arrangement?”
“What you eat, mostly,” McCoy tells him and then leans forward and kisses Spock gently. “How much I’m there, that kind of thing.”
Spock regards him quietly, a very gentle expression on his face. “You do tend to hover,” he notes. “I imagine after a certain period of time it will become tiresome for both of us.” He gently tugs McCoy closer using the hands that they still have clasped together and gently presses the tips of his fingers against McCoy’s cheek in a small caress. McCoy turns his face slightly and kisses the tips of Spock’s fingers.
“I’ll try to keep my hovering professional,” he tells Spock with a small smile.
“Leonard?”
“Yes Spock?”
“Go back to the house tonight.” Spock squeezes his hand gently, “You need rest. It is illogical for you to sacrifice your health in favor of watching me sleep when I am surrounded by medical staff.”
McCoy opens his mouth to argue and then actually thinks about it. Finally he sighs and shakes his head. “You’re right.” He rubs one hand over his eyes. “Tonight I’ll go home.”
When he gets back to the house that night the light on his computer is blinking, telling him he has a new message. He clicks his computer on and opens it. Kirk looks tired and kind of pissed off.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asks accusingly, without any kind of greeting or explanation. “I would have come if you needed me, Bones.” McCoy sighs and rubs one hand across his face, but still it makes him feel good. He’d known, intellectually he’d known, that if he had asked, Kirk would have come back to New Vulcan to be with him, but it’s good to hear the other man actually say it. “We had an away mission go bad,” Kirk tells him. “We lost an Ensign almost immediately and I got roughed up a bit.” McCoy squints at the screen and tries to tell if that means that Kirk wasn’t hurt that badly or Kirk just didn’t think it was that bad, because in his experience the two were vastly different things. “Chris works well under pressure but she’s not you,” Kirk adds, looking vaguely wistful and McCoy stamps down on the feeling of guilt that threatens to rise up at that. “And no, I haven’t had that conversation with Spock yet; it just hasn’t been the right time.” Kirk ends the message and McCoy stares at the screen for a moment.
V.
“Leonard, you are hovering.” Spock looks up from the couch in his house to where McCoy is standing by the counter. “I assure you that I am fine; our child is also fine.”
McCoy sighs. “I know; it’s just you’re not at the hospital anymore, which makes me your primary healthcare provider.”
Spock watches him carefully and then holds out his hand toward McCoy, who goes and sits next to him on the couch. Now that Spock is no longer in a hospital biobed and is again dressed in his normal clothes, it has become very obvious that he is carrying a child. McCoy reaches out and places a hand against Spock’s swollen stomach.
“Can you feel her?”
“Yes.” Spock covers McCoy’s hand briefly before taking McCoy’s other hand in both of his. “I can feel her bonded to me as we are bonded. Except of course that ours is a marriage bond and the one I share with her is between child and parent.”
McCoy presses his hand a little harder against Spock’s stomach through his robes, “What does her bond feel like?”
Spock shakes his head. “I cannot describe that.”
They sit quietly for a moment and then McCoy moves a little, taking his hand away from Spock’s belly and pulling Spock by the other hand. “We should get you into bed.” Spock doesn’t frown but he doesn’t look pleased either and McCoy sighs, “I warned you that you’d been spending most of your time in bed. It’s nerve wracking enough for me as it is having you up at all, imagining all the medical complications that could be going on.” He stands and gently tugs Spock into a standing position. “Come on.” Spock allows himself to be led into the bedroom and McCoy watches as Spock carefully and a little awkwardly lowers himself onto the bed. “Do you want me to stay?” he asks, bending down to kiss Spock lightly.
“There is really no reason to do so,” Spock points out, and McCoy rolls his eyes.
“Fine then, I’ll come back in a little while to see if you’re hungry.”
McCoy turns and makes his way to Spock’s office where McCoy’s own computer is set up. He tries not to think about how nervous he is. On the one hand he’s glad Spock is back home with him and that both he and their daughter are safe. On the other hand his mind can’t stop going over and over all of the ways this could go wrong.
He tabs on his computer and brings up a message to Kirk. “Jim. I’m sorry you lost someone on the away mission, and you know I’ll be back as soon as I can. Spock’s back home and both he and our daughter are fine. And for God’s sake talk to the Spock over on your end.” He ends the message and sends it.
VI.
Spock is sleeping when McCoy brings him food that evening. McCoy sets down the tray and then sits on the bed next to the other man, just watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, before Spock shifts and opens his eyes.
“Leonard.” Spock looks tired and old in his rumpled clothes, hair slightly messy, dark circles under his eyes. He’s happy though, as much as Spock ever is, and McCoy realizes he can tell Spock’s moods; he’s not sure how, but he’s just aware of them and right now Spock is content.
“Spock.” McCoy feels suddenly very emotional and has to look away, “I brought you dinner.”
Spock reaches out and catches McCoy’s hand in his own; pulling McCoy a little closer next to him on the bed he gently kisses the other man, slow and deep. McCoy’s free hand comes to press against the side of Spock’s face and he feels Spock’s presence inside his mind; he breaks off the kiss with a little gasp. Spock watches him carefully, but McCoy doesn’t pull away or tell him to stop. They sit there together as Spock slowly opens their bond, something he has only ever done during sex.
“Spock I . . .” McCoy starts and then breaks off, as the full impact of everything Spock is washes over him.
Spock’s finger presses against his lips for a moment. “We will eat dinner later,” Spock tells him, and McCoy only nods and closes his eyes, leaning his head against Spock’s shoulder, and lets Spock’s mind envelop his.
He comes back to himself later, with the feeling of Spock gently stroking his hair. McCoy cups the back of Spock’s neck and kisses him hard, letting one hand stroke down his neck, shoulders and body as he does it. “I love you,” McCoy says softly, lips only a little ways from Spock’s, hand still firmly on the back of the other man’s head, “You know that, right?”
Spock reaches up to touch McCoy’s face gently, just resting his fingers against McCoy’s cheek. Deep inside his mind McCoy senses Spock’s answer, but Spock doesn’t say it out loud.
VII.
“We need to talk about names for our daughter.” Spock is sitting on the couch watching McCoy water the potted plants in the living room. McCoy has been helping Spock transplant some of the plants from the garden into pots for the living room since Spock can no longer go out into the garden.
“Oh so now we’re going to have that argument.” McCoy smiles at him, “I was thinking I might like to name her after my mother or grandmother . . .”
Spock looks down at the tea he’s been drinking with toast on the side. For several long moments they are silent. “I would prefer if we gave her a Vulcan name,” Spock finally states and McCoy nods, not surprised, having already expected it.
He takes the watering nozzle back outside to the gardening shed and puts it way. On his way back to the house he lingers in the garden. When Joanna had been born he had wanted to name her Mary after his mother or Grace after his grandmother. Jocelyn hadn’t wanted that and in the end he’d figured it really didn’t matter what his daughter’s name was, she was still his daughter. He’d fucked that up in the end and he was still trying to figure out how to make it right again, and now he was having another daughter.
Spock wants to give her a Vulcan name and he understands that. Spock’s Vulcan identity is extremely important to him, what has defined him as a person for most of his life, even as that frustrates McCoy sometimes. Also their daughter would be more readily accepted on New Vulcan with a Vulcan name.
There are no benches in Spock’s garden. Perhaps Spock never saw any logic in having them. McCoy stands there for a long moment just looking. It matters to him, he realizes, this thing about names, and it matters to Spock and he’s not sure how to reconcile that. When he finally comes back into the house he finds Spock has moved to the bedroom and is asleep.
VIII.
“Ok, the thing is,” Kirk says on the screen as soon as McCoy opens the message, “we kind of ran into trouble out here. There were these aliens and they brainwashed pretty much the entire crew and then they took Spock, and they were going to torture him and use his DNA for something, I really wasn’t paying much attention to that part.” Kirk pauses for a moment, just long enough to allow McCoy to start panicking. Although he tells himself if Spock was dead not only would Kirk have started off with that fact but McCoy knows he would have heard something officially. “Most of us snapped out of it pretty quickly after the aliens got off the ship but I realized that there was a really good chance they’d just take control of anyone I put on a rescue party to go get Spock.” There’s another long pause and Kirk isn’t looking at the screen anymore but down and away at something McCoy can’t see. “I really wish you’d been there,” Kirk finally says, softly dragging one hand across his face and McCoy suddenly realizes how tired he looks. “Not that I wanted you to be brainwashed or anything, but there was this moment when I was trying to figure out what to do, when I thought . . .” Kirk swallows and goes silent and McCoy waits because that’s really all he can do with a computer recording. “I thought it might be better for everyone . . . that I might have to . . . I thought about leaving him behind.” McCoy stares at the screen in shock. Kirk’s face has gotten all closed off and expressionless, at least for Kirk, and he looks a lot older. “Of course I didn’t,” he says after a long moment. “We went and got him and it all worked out ok in the end; nobody died or anything.” Kirk sighs then, drops his head back, eyes closed for a moment, and then looks back at the screen. “You know what scares me though, Bones? It’s that I think I’d actually be able to do it. If there was no other way. Even Spock, I’d sacrifice even Spock if I had to. Hell, I think he expected me to this time. He told me it was the logical thing to do.” Kirk closes his eyes again and McCoy can’t possibly miss the pain. “I look at what you and the Ambassador have and I think I’m never going to able to have that because one day I’m going to have to watch him die and it’s going to be my fault.” McCoy’s hands clench into fists at that, and on the screen Kirk runs one hand across his face again. “I wish you were here,” he says finally. “I need you here.”
McCoy stares at the screen long after the message ends and it goes dark. Finally he opens up a new message, only text this time.
I’ll be back soon, he writes and then sends it.
IX.
“We need to talk,” McCoy says, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom.
Spock looks up from the article he’s been reading. “Yes, Leonard?”
“It’s about our daughter.” McCoy walks across the room and sits on the bed. He takes several deep breaths and for a moment just sits there quietly. “I love her; you know that. I love you both, and I can’t imagine losing either one of you and that night when I thought it might happen was one of the scariest of my life.” He takes another deep breath and keeps going, “I wasn’t ready to have this child now, though. I’ve already done this once, Spock, and I messed it up and I’m a member of Starfleet and Jim needs me on the Enterprise. I want to be the best father possible to this child and that’s going to be hard, hard for all of us, with me on a Starship.” Spock is watching him without saying anything, without giving anything away and McCoy clasps his hands together to keep them from shaking. “You and the Vulcan Council decided we were going to have this child now though, so I said yes and we are and I don’t regret that we are; I will never regret that we are, I only regret the timing.” He sighs and shuts his eyes, clenching his hands tighter together. “You and the Vulcan Council decided that our daughter will be raised here on New Vulcan as a Vulcan I am going to go along with that. Hell, if she decides she wants to do the whole repressed emotions, Vulcan philosophy thing I’d be ok with that too. Hell, you and the Vulcan Council decided she was going to be as completely Vulcan as possible before she was even conceived.” McCoy doesn’t look at Spock; he can’t look at Spock. “But this isn’t the Vulcan Council’s child, and this isn’t just your child either; this is our child, our child who is genetically three quarters human, and I want to give her a human name.” He finally looks up at Spock who’s watching him with a look on his face that McCoy was not expecting. Spock’s expression is almost impossibly gentle for a Vulcan; McCoy hadn’t been expecting that and for a moment he’s at a loss as to what to say. “My mother died when I was ten,” McCoy says finally, very softly. “She was a scientist and her lab blew up; my father . . . was . . .being a parent wasn’t his first priority, so my grandparents raised me and my sisters. My grandmother was so happy when I decided to be a doctor, but she died before I finished my residency.” McCoy looks up at Spock finally, “I want to name our daughter after her. This is important to me.”
Spock moves finally, making a gesture as if to touch McCoy, but McCoy can’t do that. He suddenly feels very raw and very vulnerable and he moves before Spock can touch him. He gets off the bed and leaves the room, moving through the house, finally outside into the garden. There is no bench so he sits on the grass, wrapping his arms around his knees, and watches the clouds move across the sky.
Spock is making dinner in the kitchen when McCoy finally comes back into the house. McCoy frowns as he watches Spock move slowly and awkwardly around the little space in his loose-fitting robes. He considers telling Spock that he’s not supposed to be up on his feet like this. Spock turns to look at him, setting aside the food.
“You are right,” Spock tells him without inflection, “This is not just my child.”
McCoy’s whole body suddenly starts shaking uncontrollably, with what exactly he’s not sure. He goes to Spock, presses his face against the other man’s shoulder, mindful of Spock’s swollen middle and Spock puts his hands lightly around McCoy’s waist. “It’s not just you,” McCoy tells him quietly, “I’m worried about Jim too. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“No,” Spock’s voice is soft, as are his hands as they press against McCoy’s back. “you are right. Much about this has been the result of my decisions. Decisions I made because I believed them to be logical, but in doing so I have treated you as less than an equal in this. I have treated you as less than my mate.” He pulls back a little and runs his fingers lightly across McCoy’s face. “You are fiercely proud of being human and I would not love you as I do if you were not. Therefore I was in error for not realizing that this child’s human identity is as important to you as her Vulcan identity is to me.” Spock’s eyes crinkle into his own version of a smile. “I will endeavor to remember that you are not my mother,” he says, and McCoy snorts and kisses him lightly on the cheek.
“You’d better.”
“Indeed.”
McCoy finally draws away from Spock. “If you’re hungry I’ll cook you something, but you really shouldn’t be out of bed, you know.”
Spock does not sigh, but he does look like he wants to as McCoy ushers him back into the bedroom. “May I inquire?” Spock asks as he settles himself once more onto the bed, one hand coming to rest lightly on his stomach. McCoy scans him with his medical scanner and frowns when he realizes Spock’s ankles are slightly swollen. He digs through the medical equipment on the bedside table until he finds a hypospray.
“Inquire about what?”
“The name of your grandmother,” Spock clarifies, and McCoy sits down next to him on the bed and presses the hypo against the older man’s neck.
“Grace,” he tells Spock, and the other man inclines his head slightly and reaches for McCoy’s hand. “You still want her to have a Vulcan name,” McCoy states flatly, looking down at both their hands, and then Spock really does sigh.
“Grace is an appropriate name for this child,” he says simply after a long moment, and McCoy looks up at him with gratitude and then leans forward and kisses him hard.
X.
“Leonard.” Spock shakes him awake hard and McCoy flails around briefly trying to figure out what time it is. “Leonard, you must wake up.”
McCoy is fully awake in an instant. “Spock?”
“It’s time,” Spock says, and McCoy can see his face is very pale and drawn. For a brief instant McCoy panics because they weren’t supposed to induce labor for another week or so. Then he’s up and moving, grabbing the emergency bags they’ve already packed and getting Spock up; he scans him with one hand as he leads them both through the house. There is absolutely no denying the fact that their child is giving off all the signs of wanting to be born and Spock’s body does not know how to deal with that. McCoy pulls out his emergency indicator and presses it, having them beamed straight from the living room the hospital.
There are nurses and doctors waiting for them in the hospital’s transporter room when they get there. The nurses hustle Spock away almost immediately to prep for surgery.
“It’s too soon,” McCoy tells the young doctor.
“The risks presented to both your mate and the child are acceptable,” the doctor tells him, and McCoy grits his teeth and reminds himself that they are Vulcans and therefore can’t help it.
“I want to be with him,” McCoy tells the young doctor, and the other man hesitates only a second before nodding.
“When he is ready for the operation I will have you notified.” He turns and is gone then, and McCoy slumps against the wall briefly before shaking himself hard. Last time he’d let his fear overcome his ability to cope, but he is not going to make the same mistake now.
He pulls out the handheld computer he’d actually managed to bring this time and messages Kirk, text only.
Spock went into labor.
When he sends it he sees that he also has an incoming message from Kirk, text only as well.
We’re bonded, it says. Spock’s fault. Long story. Tell you later.
McCoy stares at Kirk’s message, reading it again and then finally shakes his head and puts the computer away.
He turns around to see a nurse waiting for him. “Come with me,” she tells him without emotion and leads him down the hall to one of the operating theaters. They both step through the sterilization unit into the room, and McCoy goes straight to Spock. He stands by the bed and takes Spock’s hand. Spock still looks pale, drawn and much older than he normally looks, and McCoy reaches out and touches his cheek and realizes suddenly that Spock’s blocking him again.
“Don’t.” Spock opens his eyes and looks at him and McCoy fights back hard against his anger. “Don’t block me, darlin’, I’m strong enough to do this.” There isn’t any way McCoy could actually force Spock not to block him, but Spock merely closes his eyes again and eases off until McCoy can feel the bond as he normally can. McCoy feels that yes, Spock is in pain as his body fights against what is not supposed to be happening to it, and that the pain is only dulled slightly by the drugs they’ve given Spock, but McCoy sets his jaw and squeezes Spock’s hand hard.
McCoy tries to divide his attention between watching the doctor throughout the surgery and concentrating on Spock. McCoy holds Spock’s hand and strokes his face and thinks an endless stream of endearments at him even as he watches the doctors, making sure they’re doing everything right. Finally the doctors stand back and a nurse comes around toward him carrying a small, blanket-wrapped bundle even as another nurse begins administering more drugs to Spock. The doctors are also switching out the computers to begin the surgery that will undo what was done to Spock’s body to make him capable of carrying a child.
McCoy lets go of Spock’s hand so that he can takes his daughter into his arms. She is very small, vaguely green and not as smushed looking as he can remember Joanna being. Her tiny ears are slightly pointed, she has very dark, fuzzy hair that stands straight up from the top of her head and she doesn’t look at all pleased. He holds her tight against his chest, aware at the back of his mind of Spock slipping deeper into unconsciousness as the doctors work. He’s not sure how long he stands there, just staring at her, watching her breathe, also aware of Spock’s breathing even if he can’t see it.
“Doctor McCoy.” He looks up at one of the doctors and a nurse. He suddenly becomes very aware that he’s standing in a room full of Vulcans and that there are tears streaming down his face.
“Yes?” He wants to wipe his face but that would mean letting go of her partially and he can’t imagine even a little bit.
“Ambassador Spock has made it safely through the surgery; all of his vitals are within acceptable limits,” the doctor tells him. “Now we must test the child.”
The nurse reaches out for her and McCoy very reluctantly hands her over. He wipes one hand across his face and watches the nurses detach Spock from the computers and equipment and move the biobed through sterilization and out into the body of the hospital. He follows them and waits patiently while they clamp down the bed again and reattach the monitors. Finally he sits in the chair by the bed and watches Spock’s chest slowly rise and fall. He is acutely aware again of the sterilization film, and the fact that he can’t touch Spock again. He can watch Spock breathe though, and he concentrates on that, concentrates on feeling Spock through the bond at the back of his mind. He takes out his handheld computer when he can tear his eyes away from Spock and messages Sarek, before noticing there is another text only message from Kirk.
We are coming to New Vulcan, it says.
He closes his computer and settles back next to Spock, watching the monitors and watching him breathe. He’s not sure how much later it is when a nurse comes back into the room carrying his daughter wrapped in a white blanket. The nurse hands him the child and checks Spock’s monitors and then leaves.
“Grace,” he says softly to the little bundle in his arms. He tries not to think of his grandmother or he’ll start crying again. “Your father will be awake soon,” he tells her softly. “I’m not sure that he knows what to do with a baby, but he loves you very much anyway, and I love you very much too, little girl.”
She sleeps on and Spock sleeps and McCoy leans back and holds her tight against his chest, watches Spock breathe and waits. Soon Spock will wake up and Sarek will get there and eventually Kirk and Commander Spock will also be there, and everyone will get to meet their daughter. Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov, not to mention Christine, will probably also want to see her, and he’ll have to get the story of how exactly Kirk and Spock had ended up bonded. Plus he’s probably going to have to have a long talk with Kirk about this whole feeling responsible for everyone’s decisions thing. Spock’s going to have to figure out how to parent little Grace, especially since McCoy will be finishing his term of service aboard the Enterprise. Not to mention the Vulcan Council’s obvious stake in her life. It’s all very complicated and probably unfair, so much at stake in such a small child, so much that could go wrong. He holds Grace’s little body close and swears to her that they’ll make it work.