Ghosts in Attics III, Chapter 2
TITLE: Ghosts in Attics III, Chapter 2
FANDOM: Star Trek TOS
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Spock/McCoy, Kirk, M'Benga
TABLE: # 8 - Miscellaneous B
PROMPT: 03. Answers
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 5791
WARNINGS: Violence, mentions of torture.
SUMMARY: Taking McCoy back from the mirror universe was the first step. Kirk, Spock and the others find out that it was also the easiest step.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I'm writing for fun, not for profit.
NOTE: Unbetaed. If you find mistakes (which I’m sure you will), feel free to point them out to me.
In his dreams, he heard Kirk’s voice sometimes and the voices of all the others he could no longer remember how not to be scared of. They drifted through the darkness, and from time to time there was light, brighter than any he had seen in so long. He thought he blinked and saw a room that looked familiar, but it was little more than another fragment of his nightmares, detached and without meaning. The room disappeared in the haze with the voices and he willingly sank back into the darkness; past the nightmares, past anything that could hurt him.
And then he opened his eyes and was in the room again. He didn’t wonder why he knew where this was; he didn’t care. For a while he dimly registered facts, like the clinical smell, the soft surface he was resting on and the absence of pain without having a conscious thought to spare for them. What eventually woke him more fully was not the question what was going on or how he had gotten here; it was the realisation that he was, for the first time in ages, free to move, and Spock was nowhere to be seen.
There was only the faintest echo of him in his mind. McCoy didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he had to make us of this chance before it was taken from him.
It was determination that enabled him to push his heavy, almost useless body off the bed. (Not useless, Spock’s voice echoed back to him from the past. You will be used in any way that pleases me. He whimpered softly and couldn’t cover his ears to that noise.) The pain was still there after all, he noticed without interest. Moving hurt, and every breath sent piercing pain through his insides, but it was all numbed and far away. He felt sick and didn’t care. His legs would barely carry him.
For a long time he leaned heavily on the bed, his face pressed against the sheets, and waited for the world to stop spinning while he tried to catch his breath.
When he had recovered from the exertion of getting into a remotely straight position enough to do so, the first thing he did was look around the room. There were machines and monitors he recognized and didn’t care about because they were useless to him, and there was a door that could slide open any moment to admit someone to stop him. Beside the door was a table, positioned against the wall, and on the table, he saw various instruments that might be of use to him. This was where he needed to go.
Somehow, he managed to do so without falling over.
He didn’t notice the shaking of his legs when he stood before the table and examined what it had to offer him. There was a scanner - useless. A PADD - also useless. A large glass bowl that seemed to serve no purpose he could think of. This one could work, if it was indeed made of glass, and not some unbreakable substance that just appeared to be glass.
It was heavy enough to be glass. His strengthless hands could hardly lift it, but in the end all he needed to do was let it fall on the floor and make it shatter.
The door slid open with a slight hiss before he could push the bowl off the table. McCoy looked up in shock, and when he recognized Kirk, panic overwhelmed him.
He could not let the bastard get him. He would not!
Seeing him standing upright instead of lying in bed, Kirk stopped for a second, before taking a step closer. “Bones,” he said, and McCoy hated him more than ever, hated Spock for telling him of that nickname, and was disgusted with himself for fearing this man so much. More than in a long time. He was so close, and now Kirk would stop him, and punish him for trying.
When the captain came closer, McCoy cried out and tried to get away, but his body just wouldn’t move. Kirk’s tried to grab his arms, pushed him back against the table, but McCoy struggled and somehow, despite his weakness, managed to free himself of a second. A second was all he needed.
He reached for the glass bowl that had slipped from his hands when the captain entered and acted without thinking.
Mobilizing all the strength he had, McCoy swung the bowl at the Kirk’s head, lashing out in blind panic. Kirk’s eyes widened in shock, but he had no time to react before the heavy object hit the side of his head and knocked him down.
The bowl followed, shattering beside his head. McCoy half threw himself, half fell onto the other man, pushing him down with the weight of his body while grabbing for a large shard of broken glass. But Kirk didn’t even attempt to get up again. He didn’t move. McCoy stared down at him, breathing hard, seeing at once that he wasn’t dead, just unconscious.
Soon he would wake up and another time McCoy would not be able to fight him. He had no time to lose.
His hands clasped about the shard of glass. His entire body shook. He couldn’t breathe.
It was perverted how much this man looked like Jim when he wasn’t awake and all the hard cruelty was gone from his face. McCoy didn’t realise he was crying. All he had to do was lift the shard and slid his own throat, but he kept staring at Kirk and couldn’t move. The hatred and the fear paralysed him.
He couldn’t kill. No matter the reason. No matter how much Kirk deserved it. All life was sacred.
But you already did kill, a voice whispered inside him, and it wasn’t Spock. You didn’t just kill, you murdered someone. Don’t they say it gets easier every time? And you won’t even have to live with it.
McCoy shook his head, sobbing helplessly. If he killed himself now it would be over and he would have to think of this no more.
But this man beneath him was a murderer who had killed civilisations. He would go on killing and torturing forever if no one stopped him. And McCoy could stop him. How could he run away and leave all the future victims to their fate for a clear conscience?
He was going to die anyway, he would not have to carry the burden of this crime. He didn’t want to kill, but it would be selfish to consider his morals more important than the lives of all the people he could save by stabbing this shard into Kirk’s heart.
If he didn’t do this now, perhaps no one would get a chance like this ever again.
McCoy thought of Kyle, of Marlena, of the Halkans, and all the others. He thought of the pain he had suffered from this man’s hands and knew it wouldn’t stop when he died.
This Kirk was a monster. There was no justification to let him live.
Hatred and rage helped McCoy to bring his weapon into position, gripping the shard so hard blood was running down the glass and dropping onto the captain’s shirt, above his heart. And yet bringing it down was the hardest thing he had ever done.
-
M’Benga’s arms wrapped around McCoy from behind and pulled him back, off the defenceless captain before he could finish what he had started. McCoy made not sound at first, and did not struggle as M’Benga held him in a dead grip, wondering what was going on and feeling like he would crush the fragile body pressed against him if he held him just that little bit tighter.
Only when Nurse Chapel came to take the broken glass from his bleeding hands did McCoy overcome his shock and begin to fight them. “No!” he cried, hoarsely and full of desperation, and M’Benga was surprised how strong he was as he fought against their hold; surprised and worried, for McCoy wasted strength here he didn’t have to spare.
Even together they were unable to wrench the shard of glass from his hands.
Instead he struggled to turn it around, bringing it closer to his own throat, fighting with the reckless determination of a man who had no reason to hold back. It was Doctor Burke’s arrival and the hiss of a hypo spray that ended it. In their arms, McCoy’s struggles ceased, until all he could do was cry out - a hollow, hopeless and defeated sound that tore at M’Benga’s heart.
Only when the three of them lifted their ridiculously light patient back onto the bed did M’Benga register that Spock, who had entered the room just after him, had done nothing to help them. Even now the Vulcan stood by, watching wordlessly.
Altogether the whole thing lasted for barely half a minute. The moment they had all moved out of the way, Spock knelt beside the captain who still wasn’t moving and started to examine him - only to be shoved aside by Burke, who was a doctor and better equipped for examination.
There was a bleeding wound at the side of Kirk’s head, and a piece of broken glass had cut his cheek. He was pale, breathing shallowly, and showed no sign of waking.
From the scene that had been presented to them when they rushed in, alarmed by the monitoring equipment signalling them the patient had left the bed, M’Benga assumed that somehow, McCoy had attacked Kirk using the massive glass bowl that had been left on the table. It had originally been filled with cold water and a cloth, brought by Lieutenant Commander Uhura when McCoy’s fever had threatened to get out of control the day before.
It seemed incredible that Kirk would be overpowered by such a weak man who could barely stand, but then the captain had barely slept in more than a week, spending every moment he wasn’t working at his friend’s bedside. He was tired, not reacting as quickly as he would have, and McCoy had clearly had the element of surprise on his side.
It left the question of why he had attacked the captain in the first place.
“His skull is cracked,” Burke passed on the information provided by her scanner. “It’s not immediately threatening his life, but we need to treat it.” She waved over two orderlies from the other room and had them take the captain away. Spock watched them leave without making a comment. His face gave away nothing.
Before she followed the orderlies to care for her patient, Burke turned back to McCoy, who was currently being checked over by M’Benga. “Nurse,” she said, addressing Chapel. “Get the restraints and tie him to the bed.”
Chapel stared at her for a second, then turned to M’Benga as if expecting him to say something. The doctor fully intended to, finding himself scowling at his colleague the moment he had heard her words, but Spock beat him to it.
“I must ask you from refraining from such an action,” he said, his face still blank, his hands clasped behind his back. “Under the current circumstances, Doctor McCoy would not react positively to being restrained.”
M’Benga could not think of many circumstances under which anyone would react positively to being restrained, but he got what Spock was saying and agreed wholeheartedly.
“He has been chained for a very long time, and it would be a mistake to add to his trauma by tying him down even when he is among friends,” he said.
Burke frowned at him, then gestured to Kirk’s blood on the floor. “He doesn’t appear to realise he’s among friends,” she pointed out. “At the moment, he is a danger to himself and to others and has to be treated accordingly.”
“He’s not a danger to anyone,” Christine protested. “He couldn’t even walk without help.”
Her words make M’Benga check McCoy’s readings and see that she was right. Whatever reserves of strength Leonard had gathered to get out of bed, he had used them up in his struggle against them. Even his vital signs were dropping dangerously low.
“Captain Kirk obviously thought the same,” Burke said darkly.
“It’s my decision, and I will not have him restrained,” M’Benga decided. “He could only attack the captain because Kirk didn’t expect him to. We will make sure someone is with him all the time, so he can’t get out of bed before we come to take care of him. Is that enough for you?”
Burke did not give the impression of being satisfied by this solution, but appeared to see that M’Benga would not change his mind. Without another word she hurried away to care for her own patient, leaving this one to the care of the acting CMO.
The bandages around his hands had prevented worse damage, still Leonard had cut his palms and fingers on the shard of glass he had intended to use as a weapon, and his clothes were soiled with blood. But clothes could be replaced and the cuts easily healed. They were not worth mentioning compared to the other injuries McCoy was still suffering from. In fact, he had not appeared to even feel any pain as they had fought to get the shard out of his grip.
Tending to his unconscious colleague and friend, M’Benga felt a new wave of anger wash over him. Leonard was one of the most peaceful people he knew, someone who treasured life above anything. Everyone’s life. He did not even like to carry a weapon on enemy territory, and now M’Benga could only wonder what had been done to him to make him willing to murder his best friend of all people.
Spock watched them wordlessly as they took care of McCoy and reactivated the life support unit M’Benga had hoped they could do without from now on. Fragile as he was, McCoy had exhausted himself beyond endurance by his brief foray out of bed.
Eventually the Vulcan left. He never said a word. Being an expert on Vulcans and having known this one for years, M’Benga couldn’t for the life of him guess what he was thinking.
-
Kirk woke up with a headache and a bandage wrapped around his head. A nurse told him they had treated him for a cracked skull and that he was supposed to remain in bed for another day at least. Then she called an orderly to help her make him stay in bed despite him insisting on getting out. His rank didn’t impress her. Kirk could see McCoy’s mark on her and felt like screaming.
He didn’t remember anything, except coming in to find Bones standing beside the door, a brief struggle and then nothing. McCoy had attacked him, he was told what he had already figured out on his own. He didn’t understand it.
But he remembered Bones’ fear. Fear of him.
The continued influence of the other Spock had to be to blame. It was the only explanation for his friend’s inability to recognize him Kirk could come up with.
He wanted to see his friend, see how he was, but the nurse told him he was unconscious again and that she would tie Kirk to the bed if he didn’t stay still. In the end he gave in, determined to sneak away the moment she left him alone.
He never got the chance, as the moment she left him alone, Spock came in.
“It would be advisable to remain in bed until you are being released,” the Vulcan told him, his face blank. Frowning in irritation and pain, Kirk settled back against the pillow.
“What about Bones?” he asked. “How is he? What the hell happened?”
“McCoy is suffering from severe exhaustion. He has also been sedated. He is being cared for. As for what happened…” Spock hesitated; not long, but long enough for Kirk to notice. “It appears he has attacked you with the intention of killing you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! He was just scared and trying to defend himself.”
Spock’s face was empty; it often was these days. “Unfortunately, he did not stop there. When we came in, he was about to stab you with a shard of the broken bowl, despite you no longer presenting a threat to him.”
Kirk shook his head. “No way. You must have misinterpreted the situation.”
“No, Jim.” Spock spoke with such sincerity it was impossible not to believe him. “We did not.”
“But…” Suddenly, Kirk felt lost, and even more helpless than before. “It’s Bones. He wouldn’t…”
“I am afraid I do not know what caused this untypical behaviour.”
“What else?” Kirk could not stay in bed any longer. Despite the pounding in his head and the slight nausea he got up, began to pace because he had nowhere to go. “Your damn counterpart made him do it!”
Spock pressed his lips together, ever so slightly. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps? “ Kirk glared at his Vulcan friend. “You have a better idea?”
“Not at the present time,” Spock admitted. “In any case, Leonard is a danger to himself as well as to those around him and needs to be watched carefully at any time.”
“What?” While he knew Spock’s emotionless front to be a mask, it was wearing on Kirk’s patience, and he was beginning to get genuinely angry. “He’s been through hell! We will not treat him like a criminal!”
“The fact remains that he attacked you.”
“Which only means that we have to find a way to get that bastard out of his head as soon as possible, before he can do any more damage than he’s already done.”
Again Spock was silent for a moment before he said, “I agree. Doctor McCoy’s mental condition will most likely improve once he is freed of my counterpart’s influence. However…” There it was again, this hesitation. Kirk felt like shaking Spock until he told him all the things he apparently thought he couldn’t. “Even if I should be able to sever the connection, it would be a mistake to assume that Leonard will return to his old self immediately.”
His words almost made the captain laugh. “They cut an agonizer out of in his body, Spock. A goddamn agonizer! I’ve seen what they can do without even having to touch the skin, and your charming mirror brother has left one stuck between his insides!” He shook his head, feeling sick even at the memory. “I’m not so naïve to believe he’ll be alright in an instant. Not after all he’s been through.”
“So you accept that some security measures have to be taken.”
“No, Spock. He’s scared enough, we don’t need to add to that. Honestly, how much of a threat can he be in his condition?”
Spock looked at him in a manner that suggested he considered this a stupid question in the face of Kirk’s most recent injury. But what he said was, “While he might not be able to overpower anyone else, it is the danger he presents to himself I am most concerned about. I fear that when you walked in on him earlier, he has been looking for a way to end his own life.”
Kirk stared at him. And sat down on the edge of the bed.
He had known Bones was messed up good and proper, had been warned by Spock that he wished to die, but hearing the words still hurt. More than he cared to admit. “I see,” he said.
“Doctor M’Benga suggested having someone with him at any time, and I support the idea. It will be someone he knows and trust, no security.”
“Alright.” Kirk gave in, feeling dazed. Suddenly Spock was standing beside him, holding his arm. “I suggest you lie down now and give your recovery a chance to happen. I will inform you of anything that might be of interest to you.”
Kirk nodded numbly and let himself be gently pushed down onto the mattress. He didn’t feel well.
Still, it was a long time before his mind found rest and he drifted off to sleep.
-
Spock kept his distance. He did not visit McCoy in sickbay, nor did he inquire as to his health from the doctors. Instead he fulfilled his duty on the bridge and in the science lab as assiduous as ever. When he was off duty, he meditated in his quarters. He did not sleep.
After his release from sickbay, Kirk was always on call, but rarely ever appeared on the bridge. When he did, he seemed distracted. Spock did not talk to him.
Most of his time, the captain spend in sickbay, watching over their ill friend. Like before, he did not pay enough attention to his own health. This time, following his injuries, the medical staff did. When McCoy regained consciousness two days after the incident, Kirk was asleep in his bed.
Spock was the first to arrive in sickbay.
When he entered McCoy’s room, Doctor M’Benga was standing beside his friend, holding his shoulders to keep him from moving. It did not require much strength on the doctor’s part, as his patient’s movements were sluggish and weak. Only his eyes were wide and wild as he was staring alternately at M’Benga and Nurse Chapel with obvious fear. He did not react to M’Benga’s calm, soothing words.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” the nurse said quietly after she had noticed Spock and come over to him. “It’s like he doesn’t even recognize us.”
Spock did not reply. It might not have been wise to come. Leonard was unlikely to react positively to his presence if he could not even bear the sight of these two.
On the other hand, this was the first opportunity he had to assess the damage done to McCoy’s mind since he had retrieved the doctor from the other universe. Until this moment, he had constantly been unconscious when around Spock and no more than vague observations had been possible.
Spock tried to convince himself it was this consideration that had made him come here as soon as he had received noticed that McCoy was awake.
He slowly stepped closer, expecting his friend to panic the moment he became aware of his presence.
When McCoy’s wild gaze fell on him, he became perfectly still. No longer attempting to get away, his struggles ceased, and after a moment, M’Benga retreated from his side, though he remained wary and nearby.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly when Spock passed him on the way to the bed. The Vulcan did not have attention to spare for a reply. He stopped beside McCoy, looking down on him, while McCoy was staring up at him, his eyes full of confusion and tears.
His lips formed Spock’s name.
“It is I,” the Vulcan confirmed and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. He brought his hand closer to McCoy’s face, slowly so he would not frighten him, but the human was only looking at his face.
He knew which Spock he was looking at. Given his mental condition, the Vulcan had expected him to confuse him with his counterpart.
He had not reacted so positively to M’Benga and Chapel, and even worse to Kirk. Spock could not explain where the negative image should come from if Spock had indeed kept McCoy isolated from all others, but he had a suspicion about it; one he could now determine correct or incorrect.
In any case, this was the first moment the man before him was becoming aware he was no longer among enemies.
“We will not cause you any harm,” Spock promised. He had meant to initiate the mind meld as soon as possible, but following an instinct, he touched Leonard’s neck instead, sliding his hand up until he was cupping his cheek. “Are you aware of where you are?”
Leonard did not reply. He swallowed and began to cry, and Spock could feel the violent trembling of his body. Eventually the human’s lips formed the words “You’re not him,” so quiet only Spock’s fine Vulcan hearing was able to make them out.
“No,” he confirmed. “I am not.”
For the first time, Leonard’s eyes left his face and travelled to M’Benga and the head nurse as he slowly understood who they were. The shaking of his body increased, and though the skin-to-skin contact, Spock could sense his terrified confusion; his desperate hope, and his inability to accept the facts as real.
‘What has been done to you, my friend?’ Spock wondered sadly. A loud he said, “I can ease your suffering. Will you let me?”
It was meant to be a rhetorical question, to warn the human and prepare him for what was to come. Spock had not expected Leonard to cry out when he became aware of the hand nearing his face, the fingers in the position for a meld. In one instant all the terror was back, and Spock had to hold the frail man down so he could not throw himself off the bed in his attempt to get away. He never made contact.
“Please do calm down,” he asked. “I will not touch you if you do not wish me to.” But McCoy was lost. He did not register Spock’s words, and all the Vulcan received from him was mindless fear.
He was back in the other universe again.
M’Benga came over to assist him. All three of them were doing their best to calm the terrified human down, but Spock knew they would not succeed. In the end a sedative was needed to stop his desperate struggle.
This time, the sedative was not strong enough to rob Leonard of his consciousness. He was robbed of the strength and the will to fight them. His cries stopped, but he was still crying. M’Benga and Chapel stepped back to grant him as much space as they dared while they considered future actions. Spock, however, remained where he was, his hand never leaving his friend’s shoulder.
“Please,” Leonard whimpered, helplessly and almost inaudible even for Spock. “No more…”
“Spock” That was M’Benga, somewhere behind him. “I think it’d be best to leave him alone for a while.”
“No,” said Spock.
“What are you doing?” The doctor sounded alarmed, but Spock paid no attention to him. His focus was on McCoy and the chance he might not get again. Not in time. This would not any easier.
Ignoring M’Benga’s sudden attempt to stop him, Spock lifted his fingers to Leonard’s face and initiated the meld.
-
“What the hell were you thinking?” Kirk slammed his palms flat onto his desk, creating a noise sufficient to make Spock flinch. Illogical. Vulcans did not flinch. “M’Benga told you to stop! He’s a doctor. More specifically, he’s Bones’ doctor. You should have listened to him.” The volume of Kirk’s voice was also loud enough to worsen the dull ache in Spock’s head.
“With all due respect,” Spock said, and meant it, “I believe I understand McCoy’s state better than the doctor does. I do not mean to doubt Doctor M’Benga’s abilities, but he is not a telepath. He cannot understand. I took the course of action I considered most beneficial to Leonard under the given circumstances.”
“Beneficial,” Kirk echoed. “Right.”
“No harm was done by my action.”
“No harm?” Kirk exploded, and Spock’s head threatened to do the same. “He was in a coma for two days! And so were you.”
“It has been brought to my attention,” Spock said. “Repeatedly.”
“Then convince me you got the message.” Kirk took a deep breath and finally sat down behind his desk. “And answer my question. What were you thinking? You must have known that this would be dangerous for both of you.”
Spock had to admit this was not entirely incorrect. “I was aware that a certain risk existed. Still the possible benefits outweighed the possible negative consequences.”
“Get into details, please, Spock! Don’t make me ask for every bit of information!” Apparently, Kirk’s patience had reached its limit. Spock deemed it wise to give him as complete a report as he was able to.
“I was of the opinion that we could not offer McCoy the help he needed if we did not understand exactly what was wrong with him. The fact that my other self is a telepath makes this very difficult, as he has used this ability extensively to violate Leonard’s mind in ways you cannot imagine. Even I could merely speculate on what he has done. I needed to confirm or disprove that speculation before I could decide how best to help him.”
“And that could not have waited until he was a little more coherent and a little less scared out of his mind?”
“Unfortunately not, for such a time would not have come. Leonard reacted well to my presence. I had not expected that. He finally began to understand that he was no longer in the other universe.”
“Yes, I heard. Unfortunately he did not react so well to you trying to meld with him.”
“Indeed.”
“And you did it anyway.”
“It was inevitable.”
“You mentioned that.” Kirk’s voice was stained with barely contained impatience once again.
“Leonard is utterly terrified of mind melds. No matter how long I had waited, his reaction to it would have been the same. As his mental state is extremely unstable and he needs help quickly, I saw no use in not taking the opportunity presented to me.”
“And were you able to fix him?” Kirk sounded more interested now and less angry. Spock regretted that he had apparently not listened to his words.
“It was never my intention to repair the damage done to him, Jim, as I knew that would not yet be possible. Not before first learning more about that damage. I was able to do that.”
“And were your assumptions correct?”
“Partially.” Noting the expression on the captain’s face, Spock decided to offer information before Kirk had to ask for it. “It was obvious from his reaction to seeing you that he still believed himself to be in the other universe. Since he had presumably not come into contact with anyone but my counterpart, it seemed strange that he would assume so upon seeing you. Theoretically it would have been possible that the other Spock was mentally controlling him through the bond that still exists between them, though the fact that they are part of different realities should not leave the bond strong enough for that. My theory was rather that the other Spock has manipulated his memories so his own knowledge of you and the rest of the crew from that universe were replacing McCoy’s original memories of us.”
Kirk sighed, looking unhappy and worried. He could not truly understand what Spock was suggesting, but the Vulcan knew he would at least have a vague idea. “But…?”
“I was correct that Leonard’s memories have been overwritten by that Spock. However, Spock did not use his own memories for this purpose.”
“Not his own?” Kirk frowned. “Who else’s could he possibly have used?”
“Those of the McCoy from his world. As far as I was able to see, he appears to have melded with the doctor when he died and kept some of his memories, which he has then used to overwrite those of our McCoy.”
“Oh, God…” Kirk leaned back and didn’t say anything for several seconds. “So he doesn’t even remember us anymore?”
“He does,” Spock assured him. “His own memories are still there. They are overpowered for the most part due to his expectation to be facing our counterparts, but they exist and are even accessible to him. The moment he realised he was home, he was able to place M’Benga and Chapel in the right context. It was his fear of the mind meld that threw him back.”
“So if you had not tried…”
Spock shook his head. “The damage runs much deeper than that, Jim.” He did not believe he could make Jim, or anyone, understand how deeply hurt their friend was. Spock feared he might not ever be able to repair what had been destroyed.
McCoy had attempted to keep him out of his mind, yet Spock had found no defences. Whatever mental protection there had been had long since been destroyed by his other self. The bond to the other Spock had been still there, still blocking him to some extent, but the distance made it too weak to keep Spock from exploring McCoy’s mind.
He had been overwhelmed by the pain, the fear and the self-loathing he had previously only sensed from a distance. McCoy had literally no will to live left and was further convinced he deserved to suffer even more than he deserved to die. His mind was broken, his memories the shattered images of two different lifetimes. Spock was unable to take everything in, but he got a remotely reliable idea of the torture his friend had been subjected to, both physically and psychically, while they had assumed he was dead and failed to look for him.
And inside all that Spock could sense the other him, faint but constant, a cancer rooted deeply in his Leonard’s soul. Doomed to inactivity, but always watching. He knew Spock was there.
Through Spock’s intrusion, McCoy had been forced to face all this along with him. All at once it was too much for him to bear. His mind had shut down completely, and so had Spock’s. By the time Spock woke up, his own defences had removed most of the doctor’s memories and emotions from his mind, leaving little more than basic knowledge and a persistent ache in his head Spock knew would stay with him for days.
McCoy still had not woken. His mind, bar any defences, would need longer to deal with the overload.
Opposite Spock, Jim Kirk ran his fingers through his hair. He was pale and appeared to be tired, had been disregarding his own health again. “Damn. If Bones’ got all of his counterpart’s memories in his head up to the moment he died, it’s no surprise he wasn’t happy to see me. My other self killed him, after all.”
Spock hesitated an illogically long time before he next spoke. He knew it was necessary to share his knowledge on what he had learned about McCoy’s stay on the other Enterprise, but a part of him, a treacherously human part, did not want Jim to know.
“That is not the only reason,” he said.
January 13, 2010
Chapter 3
FANDOM: Star Trek TOS
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Spock/McCoy, Kirk, M'Benga
TABLE: # 8 - Miscellaneous B
PROMPT: 03. Answers
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 5791
WARNINGS: Violence, mentions of torture.
SUMMARY: Taking McCoy back from the mirror universe was the first step. Kirk, Spock and the others find out that it was also the easiest step.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I'm writing for fun, not for profit.
NOTE: Unbetaed. If you find mistakes (which I’m sure you will), feel free to point them out to me.
In his dreams, he heard Kirk’s voice sometimes and the voices of all the others he could no longer remember how not to be scared of. They drifted through the darkness, and from time to time there was light, brighter than any he had seen in so long. He thought he blinked and saw a room that looked familiar, but it was little more than another fragment of his nightmares, detached and without meaning. The room disappeared in the haze with the voices and he willingly sank back into the darkness; past the nightmares, past anything that could hurt him.
And then he opened his eyes and was in the room again. He didn’t wonder why he knew where this was; he didn’t care. For a while he dimly registered facts, like the clinical smell, the soft surface he was resting on and the absence of pain without having a conscious thought to spare for them. What eventually woke him more fully was not the question what was going on or how he had gotten here; it was the realisation that he was, for the first time in ages, free to move, and Spock was nowhere to be seen.
There was only the faintest echo of him in his mind. McCoy didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he had to make us of this chance before it was taken from him.
It was determination that enabled him to push his heavy, almost useless body off the bed. (Not useless, Spock’s voice echoed back to him from the past. You will be used in any way that pleases me. He whimpered softly and couldn’t cover his ears to that noise.) The pain was still there after all, he noticed without interest. Moving hurt, and every breath sent piercing pain through his insides, but it was all numbed and far away. He felt sick and didn’t care. His legs would barely carry him.
For a long time he leaned heavily on the bed, his face pressed against the sheets, and waited for the world to stop spinning while he tried to catch his breath.
When he had recovered from the exertion of getting into a remotely straight position enough to do so, the first thing he did was look around the room. There were machines and monitors he recognized and didn’t care about because they were useless to him, and there was a door that could slide open any moment to admit someone to stop him. Beside the door was a table, positioned against the wall, and on the table, he saw various instruments that might be of use to him. This was where he needed to go.
Somehow, he managed to do so without falling over.
He didn’t notice the shaking of his legs when he stood before the table and examined what it had to offer him. There was a scanner - useless. A PADD - also useless. A large glass bowl that seemed to serve no purpose he could think of. This one could work, if it was indeed made of glass, and not some unbreakable substance that just appeared to be glass.
It was heavy enough to be glass. His strengthless hands could hardly lift it, but in the end all he needed to do was let it fall on the floor and make it shatter.
The door slid open with a slight hiss before he could push the bowl off the table. McCoy looked up in shock, and when he recognized Kirk, panic overwhelmed him.
He could not let the bastard get him. He would not!
Seeing him standing upright instead of lying in bed, Kirk stopped for a second, before taking a step closer. “Bones,” he said, and McCoy hated him more than ever, hated Spock for telling him of that nickname, and was disgusted with himself for fearing this man so much. More than in a long time. He was so close, and now Kirk would stop him, and punish him for trying.
When the captain came closer, McCoy cried out and tried to get away, but his body just wouldn’t move. Kirk’s tried to grab his arms, pushed him back against the table, but McCoy struggled and somehow, despite his weakness, managed to free himself of a second. A second was all he needed.
He reached for the glass bowl that had slipped from his hands when the captain entered and acted without thinking.
Mobilizing all the strength he had, McCoy swung the bowl at the Kirk’s head, lashing out in blind panic. Kirk’s eyes widened in shock, but he had no time to react before the heavy object hit the side of his head and knocked him down.
The bowl followed, shattering beside his head. McCoy half threw himself, half fell onto the other man, pushing him down with the weight of his body while grabbing for a large shard of broken glass. But Kirk didn’t even attempt to get up again. He didn’t move. McCoy stared down at him, breathing hard, seeing at once that he wasn’t dead, just unconscious.
Soon he would wake up and another time McCoy would not be able to fight him. He had no time to lose.
His hands clasped about the shard of glass. His entire body shook. He couldn’t breathe.
It was perverted how much this man looked like Jim when he wasn’t awake and all the hard cruelty was gone from his face. McCoy didn’t realise he was crying. All he had to do was lift the shard and slid his own throat, but he kept staring at Kirk and couldn’t move. The hatred and the fear paralysed him.
He couldn’t kill. No matter the reason. No matter how much Kirk deserved it. All life was sacred.
But you already did kill, a voice whispered inside him, and it wasn’t Spock. You didn’t just kill, you murdered someone. Don’t they say it gets easier every time? And you won’t even have to live with it.
McCoy shook his head, sobbing helplessly. If he killed himself now it would be over and he would have to think of this no more.
But this man beneath him was a murderer who had killed civilisations. He would go on killing and torturing forever if no one stopped him. And McCoy could stop him. How could he run away and leave all the future victims to their fate for a clear conscience?
He was going to die anyway, he would not have to carry the burden of this crime. He didn’t want to kill, but it would be selfish to consider his morals more important than the lives of all the people he could save by stabbing this shard into Kirk’s heart.
If he didn’t do this now, perhaps no one would get a chance like this ever again.
McCoy thought of Kyle, of Marlena, of the Halkans, and all the others. He thought of the pain he had suffered from this man’s hands and knew it wouldn’t stop when he died.
This Kirk was a monster. There was no justification to let him live.
Hatred and rage helped McCoy to bring his weapon into position, gripping the shard so hard blood was running down the glass and dropping onto the captain’s shirt, above his heart. And yet bringing it down was the hardest thing he had ever done.
-
M’Benga’s arms wrapped around McCoy from behind and pulled him back, off the defenceless captain before he could finish what he had started. McCoy made not sound at first, and did not struggle as M’Benga held him in a dead grip, wondering what was going on and feeling like he would crush the fragile body pressed against him if he held him just that little bit tighter.
Only when Nurse Chapel came to take the broken glass from his bleeding hands did McCoy overcome his shock and begin to fight them. “No!” he cried, hoarsely and full of desperation, and M’Benga was surprised how strong he was as he fought against their hold; surprised and worried, for McCoy wasted strength here he didn’t have to spare.
Even together they were unable to wrench the shard of glass from his hands.
Instead he struggled to turn it around, bringing it closer to his own throat, fighting with the reckless determination of a man who had no reason to hold back. It was Doctor Burke’s arrival and the hiss of a hypo spray that ended it. In their arms, McCoy’s struggles ceased, until all he could do was cry out - a hollow, hopeless and defeated sound that tore at M’Benga’s heart.
Only when the three of them lifted their ridiculously light patient back onto the bed did M’Benga register that Spock, who had entered the room just after him, had done nothing to help them. Even now the Vulcan stood by, watching wordlessly.
Altogether the whole thing lasted for barely half a minute. The moment they had all moved out of the way, Spock knelt beside the captain who still wasn’t moving and started to examine him - only to be shoved aside by Burke, who was a doctor and better equipped for examination.
There was a bleeding wound at the side of Kirk’s head, and a piece of broken glass had cut his cheek. He was pale, breathing shallowly, and showed no sign of waking.
From the scene that had been presented to them when they rushed in, alarmed by the monitoring equipment signalling them the patient had left the bed, M’Benga assumed that somehow, McCoy had attacked Kirk using the massive glass bowl that had been left on the table. It had originally been filled with cold water and a cloth, brought by Lieutenant Commander Uhura when McCoy’s fever had threatened to get out of control the day before.
It seemed incredible that Kirk would be overpowered by such a weak man who could barely stand, but then the captain had barely slept in more than a week, spending every moment he wasn’t working at his friend’s bedside. He was tired, not reacting as quickly as he would have, and McCoy had clearly had the element of surprise on his side.
It left the question of why he had attacked the captain in the first place.
“His skull is cracked,” Burke passed on the information provided by her scanner. “It’s not immediately threatening his life, but we need to treat it.” She waved over two orderlies from the other room and had them take the captain away. Spock watched them leave without making a comment. His face gave away nothing.
Before she followed the orderlies to care for her patient, Burke turned back to McCoy, who was currently being checked over by M’Benga. “Nurse,” she said, addressing Chapel. “Get the restraints and tie him to the bed.”
Chapel stared at her for a second, then turned to M’Benga as if expecting him to say something. The doctor fully intended to, finding himself scowling at his colleague the moment he had heard her words, but Spock beat him to it.
“I must ask you from refraining from such an action,” he said, his face still blank, his hands clasped behind his back. “Under the current circumstances, Doctor McCoy would not react positively to being restrained.”
M’Benga could not think of many circumstances under which anyone would react positively to being restrained, but he got what Spock was saying and agreed wholeheartedly.
“He has been chained for a very long time, and it would be a mistake to add to his trauma by tying him down even when he is among friends,” he said.
Burke frowned at him, then gestured to Kirk’s blood on the floor. “He doesn’t appear to realise he’s among friends,” she pointed out. “At the moment, he is a danger to himself and to others and has to be treated accordingly.”
“He’s not a danger to anyone,” Christine protested. “He couldn’t even walk without help.”
Her words make M’Benga check McCoy’s readings and see that she was right. Whatever reserves of strength Leonard had gathered to get out of bed, he had used them up in his struggle against them. Even his vital signs were dropping dangerously low.
“Captain Kirk obviously thought the same,” Burke said darkly.
“It’s my decision, and I will not have him restrained,” M’Benga decided. “He could only attack the captain because Kirk didn’t expect him to. We will make sure someone is with him all the time, so he can’t get out of bed before we come to take care of him. Is that enough for you?”
Burke did not give the impression of being satisfied by this solution, but appeared to see that M’Benga would not change his mind. Without another word she hurried away to care for her own patient, leaving this one to the care of the acting CMO.
The bandages around his hands had prevented worse damage, still Leonard had cut his palms and fingers on the shard of glass he had intended to use as a weapon, and his clothes were soiled with blood. But clothes could be replaced and the cuts easily healed. They were not worth mentioning compared to the other injuries McCoy was still suffering from. In fact, he had not appeared to even feel any pain as they had fought to get the shard out of his grip.
Tending to his unconscious colleague and friend, M’Benga felt a new wave of anger wash over him. Leonard was one of the most peaceful people he knew, someone who treasured life above anything. Everyone’s life. He did not even like to carry a weapon on enemy territory, and now M’Benga could only wonder what had been done to him to make him willing to murder his best friend of all people.
Spock watched them wordlessly as they took care of McCoy and reactivated the life support unit M’Benga had hoped they could do without from now on. Fragile as he was, McCoy had exhausted himself beyond endurance by his brief foray out of bed.
Eventually the Vulcan left. He never said a word. Being an expert on Vulcans and having known this one for years, M’Benga couldn’t for the life of him guess what he was thinking.
-
Kirk woke up with a headache and a bandage wrapped around his head. A nurse told him they had treated him for a cracked skull and that he was supposed to remain in bed for another day at least. Then she called an orderly to help her make him stay in bed despite him insisting on getting out. His rank didn’t impress her. Kirk could see McCoy’s mark on her and felt like screaming.
He didn’t remember anything, except coming in to find Bones standing beside the door, a brief struggle and then nothing. McCoy had attacked him, he was told what he had already figured out on his own. He didn’t understand it.
But he remembered Bones’ fear. Fear of him.
The continued influence of the other Spock had to be to blame. It was the only explanation for his friend’s inability to recognize him Kirk could come up with.
He wanted to see his friend, see how he was, but the nurse told him he was unconscious again and that she would tie Kirk to the bed if he didn’t stay still. In the end he gave in, determined to sneak away the moment she left him alone.
He never got the chance, as the moment she left him alone, Spock came in.
“It would be advisable to remain in bed until you are being released,” the Vulcan told him, his face blank. Frowning in irritation and pain, Kirk settled back against the pillow.
“What about Bones?” he asked. “How is he? What the hell happened?”
“McCoy is suffering from severe exhaustion. He has also been sedated. He is being cared for. As for what happened…” Spock hesitated; not long, but long enough for Kirk to notice. “It appears he has attacked you with the intention of killing you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! He was just scared and trying to defend himself.”
Spock’s face was empty; it often was these days. “Unfortunately, he did not stop there. When we came in, he was about to stab you with a shard of the broken bowl, despite you no longer presenting a threat to him.”
Kirk shook his head. “No way. You must have misinterpreted the situation.”
“No, Jim.” Spock spoke with such sincerity it was impossible not to believe him. “We did not.”
“But…” Suddenly, Kirk felt lost, and even more helpless than before. “It’s Bones. He wouldn’t…”
“I am afraid I do not know what caused this untypical behaviour.”
“What else?” Kirk could not stay in bed any longer. Despite the pounding in his head and the slight nausea he got up, began to pace because he had nowhere to go. “Your damn counterpart made him do it!”
Spock pressed his lips together, ever so slightly. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps? “ Kirk glared at his Vulcan friend. “You have a better idea?”
“Not at the present time,” Spock admitted. “In any case, Leonard is a danger to himself as well as to those around him and needs to be watched carefully at any time.”
“What?” While he knew Spock’s emotionless front to be a mask, it was wearing on Kirk’s patience, and he was beginning to get genuinely angry. “He’s been through hell! We will not treat him like a criminal!”
“The fact remains that he attacked you.”
“Which only means that we have to find a way to get that bastard out of his head as soon as possible, before he can do any more damage than he’s already done.”
Again Spock was silent for a moment before he said, “I agree. Doctor McCoy’s mental condition will most likely improve once he is freed of my counterpart’s influence. However…” There it was again, this hesitation. Kirk felt like shaking Spock until he told him all the things he apparently thought he couldn’t. “Even if I should be able to sever the connection, it would be a mistake to assume that Leonard will return to his old self immediately.”
His words almost made the captain laugh. “They cut an agonizer out of in his body, Spock. A goddamn agonizer! I’ve seen what they can do without even having to touch the skin, and your charming mirror brother has left one stuck between his insides!” He shook his head, feeling sick even at the memory. “I’m not so naïve to believe he’ll be alright in an instant. Not after all he’s been through.”
“So you accept that some security measures have to be taken.”
“No, Spock. He’s scared enough, we don’t need to add to that. Honestly, how much of a threat can he be in his condition?”
Spock looked at him in a manner that suggested he considered this a stupid question in the face of Kirk’s most recent injury. But what he said was, “While he might not be able to overpower anyone else, it is the danger he presents to himself I am most concerned about. I fear that when you walked in on him earlier, he has been looking for a way to end his own life.”
Kirk stared at him. And sat down on the edge of the bed.
He had known Bones was messed up good and proper, had been warned by Spock that he wished to die, but hearing the words still hurt. More than he cared to admit. “I see,” he said.
“Doctor M’Benga suggested having someone with him at any time, and I support the idea. It will be someone he knows and trust, no security.”
“Alright.” Kirk gave in, feeling dazed. Suddenly Spock was standing beside him, holding his arm. “I suggest you lie down now and give your recovery a chance to happen. I will inform you of anything that might be of interest to you.”
Kirk nodded numbly and let himself be gently pushed down onto the mattress. He didn’t feel well.
Still, it was a long time before his mind found rest and he drifted off to sleep.
-
Spock kept his distance. He did not visit McCoy in sickbay, nor did he inquire as to his health from the doctors. Instead he fulfilled his duty on the bridge and in the science lab as assiduous as ever. When he was off duty, he meditated in his quarters. He did not sleep.
After his release from sickbay, Kirk was always on call, but rarely ever appeared on the bridge. When he did, he seemed distracted. Spock did not talk to him.
Most of his time, the captain spend in sickbay, watching over their ill friend. Like before, he did not pay enough attention to his own health. This time, following his injuries, the medical staff did. When McCoy regained consciousness two days after the incident, Kirk was asleep in his bed.
Spock was the first to arrive in sickbay.
When he entered McCoy’s room, Doctor M’Benga was standing beside his friend, holding his shoulders to keep him from moving. It did not require much strength on the doctor’s part, as his patient’s movements were sluggish and weak. Only his eyes were wide and wild as he was staring alternately at M’Benga and Nurse Chapel with obvious fear. He did not react to M’Benga’s calm, soothing words.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” the nurse said quietly after she had noticed Spock and come over to him. “It’s like he doesn’t even recognize us.”
Spock did not reply. It might not have been wise to come. Leonard was unlikely to react positively to his presence if he could not even bear the sight of these two.
On the other hand, this was the first opportunity he had to assess the damage done to McCoy’s mind since he had retrieved the doctor from the other universe. Until this moment, he had constantly been unconscious when around Spock and no more than vague observations had been possible.
Spock tried to convince himself it was this consideration that had made him come here as soon as he had received noticed that McCoy was awake.
He slowly stepped closer, expecting his friend to panic the moment he became aware of his presence.
When McCoy’s wild gaze fell on him, he became perfectly still. No longer attempting to get away, his struggles ceased, and after a moment, M’Benga retreated from his side, though he remained wary and nearby.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly when Spock passed him on the way to the bed. The Vulcan did not have attention to spare for a reply. He stopped beside McCoy, looking down on him, while McCoy was staring up at him, his eyes full of confusion and tears.
His lips formed Spock’s name.
“It is I,” the Vulcan confirmed and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. He brought his hand closer to McCoy’s face, slowly so he would not frighten him, but the human was only looking at his face.
He knew which Spock he was looking at. Given his mental condition, the Vulcan had expected him to confuse him with his counterpart.
He had not reacted so positively to M’Benga and Chapel, and even worse to Kirk. Spock could not explain where the negative image should come from if Spock had indeed kept McCoy isolated from all others, but he had a suspicion about it; one he could now determine correct or incorrect.
In any case, this was the first moment the man before him was becoming aware he was no longer among enemies.
“We will not cause you any harm,” Spock promised. He had meant to initiate the mind meld as soon as possible, but following an instinct, he touched Leonard’s neck instead, sliding his hand up until he was cupping his cheek. “Are you aware of where you are?”
Leonard did not reply. He swallowed and began to cry, and Spock could feel the violent trembling of his body. Eventually the human’s lips formed the words “You’re not him,” so quiet only Spock’s fine Vulcan hearing was able to make them out.
“No,” he confirmed. “I am not.”
For the first time, Leonard’s eyes left his face and travelled to M’Benga and the head nurse as he slowly understood who they were. The shaking of his body increased, and though the skin-to-skin contact, Spock could sense his terrified confusion; his desperate hope, and his inability to accept the facts as real.
‘What has been done to you, my friend?’ Spock wondered sadly. A loud he said, “I can ease your suffering. Will you let me?”
It was meant to be a rhetorical question, to warn the human and prepare him for what was to come. Spock had not expected Leonard to cry out when he became aware of the hand nearing his face, the fingers in the position for a meld. In one instant all the terror was back, and Spock had to hold the frail man down so he could not throw himself off the bed in his attempt to get away. He never made contact.
“Please do calm down,” he asked. “I will not touch you if you do not wish me to.” But McCoy was lost. He did not register Spock’s words, and all the Vulcan received from him was mindless fear.
He was back in the other universe again.
M’Benga came over to assist him. All three of them were doing their best to calm the terrified human down, but Spock knew they would not succeed. In the end a sedative was needed to stop his desperate struggle.
This time, the sedative was not strong enough to rob Leonard of his consciousness. He was robbed of the strength and the will to fight them. His cries stopped, but he was still crying. M’Benga and Chapel stepped back to grant him as much space as they dared while they considered future actions. Spock, however, remained where he was, his hand never leaving his friend’s shoulder.
“Please,” Leonard whimpered, helplessly and almost inaudible even for Spock. “No more…”
“Spock” That was M’Benga, somewhere behind him. “I think it’d be best to leave him alone for a while.”
“No,” said Spock.
“What are you doing?” The doctor sounded alarmed, but Spock paid no attention to him. His focus was on McCoy and the chance he might not get again. Not in time. This would not any easier.
Ignoring M’Benga’s sudden attempt to stop him, Spock lifted his fingers to Leonard’s face and initiated the meld.
-
“What the hell were you thinking?” Kirk slammed his palms flat onto his desk, creating a noise sufficient to make Spock flinch. Illogical. Vulcans did not flinch. “M’Benga told you to stop! He’s a doctor. More specifically, he’s Bones’ doctor. You should have listened to him.” The volume of Kirk’s voice was also loud enough to worsen the dull ache in Spock’s head.
“With all due respect,” Spock said, and meant it, “I believe I understand McCoy’s state better than the doctor does. I do not mean to doubt Doctor M’Benga’s abilities, but he is not a telepath. He cannot understand. I took the course of action I considered most beneficial to Leonard under the given circumstances.”
“Beneficial,” Kirk echoed. “Right.”
“No harm was done by my action.”
“No harm?” Kirk exploded, and Spock’s head threatened to do the same. “He was in a coma for two days! And so were you.”
“It has been brought to my attention,” Spock said. “Repeatedly.”
“Then convince me you got the message.” Kirk took a deep breath and finally sat down behind his desk. “And answer my question. What were you thinking? You must have known that this would be dangerous for both of you.”
Spock had to admit this was not entirely incorrect. “I was aware that a certain risk existed. Still the possible benefits outweighed the possible negative consequences.”
“Get into details, please, Spock! Don’t make me ask for every bit of information!” Apparently, Kirk’s patience had reached its limit. Spock deemed it wise to give him as complete a report as he was able to.
“I was of the opinion that we could not offer McCoy the help he needed if we did not understand exactly what was wrong with him. The fact that my other self is a telepath makes this very difficult, as he has used this ability extensively to violate Leonard’s mind in ways you cannot imagine. Even I could merely speculate on what he has done. I needed to confirm or disprove that speculation before I could decide how best to help him.”
“And that could not have waited until he was a little more coherent and a little less scared out of his mind?”
“Unfortunately not, for such a time would not have come. Leonard reacted well to my presence. I had not expected that. He finally began to understand that he was no longer in the other universe.”
“Yes, I heard. Unfortunately he did not react so well to you trying to meld with him.”
“Indeed.”
“And you did it anyway.”
“It was inevitable.”
“You mentioned that.” Kirk’s voice was stained with barely contained impatience once again.
“Leonard is utterly terrified of mind melds. No matter how long I had waited, his reaction to it would have been the same. As his mental state is extremely unstable and he needs help quickly, I saw no use in not taking the opportunity presented to me.”
“And were you able to fix him?” Kirk sounded more interested now and less angry. Spock regretted that he had apparently not listened to his words.
“It was never my intention to repair the damage done to him, Jim, as I knew that would not yet be possible. Not before first learning more about that damage. I was able to do that.”
“And were your assumptions correct?”
“Partially.” Noting the expression on the captain’s face, Spock decided to offer information before Kirk had to ask for it. “It was obvious from his reaction to seeing you that he still believed himself to be in the other universe. Since he had presumably not come into contact with anyone but my counterpart, it seemed strange that he would assume so upon seeing you. Theoretically it would have been possible that the other Spock was mentally controlling him through the bond that still exists between them, though the fact that they are part of different realities should not leave the bond strong enough for that. My theory was rather that the other Spock has manipulated his memories so his own knowledge of you and the rest of the crew from that universe were replacing McCoy’s original memories of us.”
Kirk sighed, looking unhappy and worried. He could not truly understand what Spock was suggesting, but the Vulcan knew he would at least have a vague idea. “But…?”
“I was correct that Leonard’s memories have been overwritten by that Spock. However, Spock did not use his own memories for this purpose.”
“Not his own?” Kirk frowned. “Who else’s could he possibly have used?”
“Those of the McCoy from his world. As far as I was able to see, he appears to have melded with the doctor when he died and kept some of his memories, which he has then used to overwrite those of our McCoy.”
“Oh, God…” Kirk leaned back and didn’t say anything for several seconds. “So he doesn’t even remember us anymore?”
“He does,” Spock assured him. “His own memories are still there. They are overpowered for the most part due to his expectation to be facing our counterparts, but they exist and are even accessible to him. The moment he realised he was home, he was able to place M’Benga and Chapel in the right context. It was his fear of the mind meld that threw him back.”
“So if you had not tried…”
Spock shook his head. “The damage runs much deeper than that, Jim.” He did not believe he could make Jim, or anyone, understand how deeply hurt their friend was. Spock feared he might not ever be able to repair what had been destroyed.
McCoy had attempted to keep him out of his mind, yet Spock had found no defences. Whatever mental protection there had been had long since been destroyed by his other self. The bond to the other Spock had been still there, still blocking him to some extent, but the distance made it too weak to keep Spock from exploring McCoy’s mind.
He had been overwhelmed by the pain, the fear and the self-loathing he had previously only sensed from a distance. McCoy had literally no will to live left and was further convinced he deserved to suffer even more than he deserved to die. His mind was broken, his memories the shattered images of two different lifetimes. Spock was unable to take everything in, but he got a remotely reliable idea of the torture his friend had been subjected to, both physically and psychically, while they had assumed he was dead and failed to look for him.
And inside all that Spock could sense the other him, faint but constant, a cancer rooted deeply in his Leonard’s soul. Doomed to inactivity, but always watching. He knew Spock was there.
Through Spock’s intrusion, McCoy had been forced to face all this along with him. All at once it was too much for him to bear. His mind had shut down completely, and so had Spock’s. By the time Spock woke up, his own defences had removed most of the doctor’s memories and emotions from his mind, leaving little more than basic knowledge and a persistent ache in his head Spock knew would stay with him for days.
McCoy still had not woken. His mind, bar any defences, would need longer to deal with the overload.
Opposite Spock, Jim Kirk ran his fingers through his hair. He was pale and appeared to be tired, had been disregarding his own health again. “Damn. If Bones’ got all of his counterpart’s memories in his head up to the moment he died, it’s no surprise he wasn’t happy to see me. My other self killed him, after all.”
Spock hesitated an illogically long time before he next spoke. He knew it was necessary to share his knowledge on what he had learned about McCoy’s stay on the other Enterprise, but a part of him, a treacherously human part, did not want Jim to know.
“That is not the only reason,” he said.
January 13, 2010
Chapter 3