Endings and Beginnings by Mary R. and Lynn S. (aka Sahsheer), sahsheer@hotmail.com "So, what is your deepest fear, Jim?" Kirk jerked his gaze from the campfire to stare at McCoy. "What?" McCoy's blue eyes held his own. "You know what mine is and Spock's, thanks to Sybok. It seems only fair that you tell us yours." A frown creased his forehead, his irritation building moment by moment with the doctor. For some reason McCoy had chosen tonight to bug the hell out of him. He cast about for what could have caused his friend to be so out of sorts. Picking up on the vacation they had been forced to abort for the unscheduled trip to Nimbus Three, they had returned to Earth. Surprisingly, the suggestion to do so had come from Spock. This time however, they had chosen to retreat to an early native American ruin located in mid southwest North America. They were planning to explore the ruins together the next day. Kirk stared at McCoy speculatively. They each had sought out their own form of relaxation today after Spock had admitted he was in need of meditation. Kirk had spent most of the afternoon attempting to learn the art of windgliding. A dangerous and exhilarating sport that he enjoyed thoroughly until he chose to try an intricate flip. Radical loss of control was the knowledge he gleaned from that move. Kirk had not been sure he was going to manage to walk away from the long and painful fall. He shifted, his bruised aching muscles reminding him sharply that he was no longer young enough to bounce back and immediately try the experience again. The fact that he would undoubtedly spend a miserable night due to the unceasing throbbing in his right leg only increased his annoyance with McCoy. "Well?" McCoy pushed. The retort died on his lips as Kirk saw Spock's dark eyes watching him. Taking a sip of coffee, Kirk forced a neutral tone. "I don't know quite how to answer that, Bones. I do know that I find it disturbing to discover that both of you have kept things from me that are extremely important to you." "You knew my father died. There wasn't anything you could do about it." Kirk shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. "I know." He stopped, remembering McCoy's pain-filled voice when watching his father die under Sybok's mind influence. "I'm not sure which hurt worse, watching you suffer there or knowing that you experienced this and never told me." "Captain, your statement surprises me. Am I correct in assuming you are angry with Dr. McCoy regarding his father?" Spock's quizzical expression was reminiscent of past missions. Normally, Kirk was amused by the innocent countenance but all he felt now was exasperation. "Of course not." Kirk snapped. Spock apparently decided to ignore the nonverbal warning to back off the subject. Kirk clenched his jaw, again reminded of the old Spock of many years before. When he was intent on discovering the root of a problem, he was oblivious to human emotions. "Doctor, if my memory serves, your father died not long after I returned to Vulcan for my Kolinar training and the Captain became Chief of Operations." McCoy looked up briefly from the fire, "Yes." Spock leaned forward, a frown replacing his curiosity. "Am I correct in stating that communications between you were not at an optimum?" Abruptly, Kirk stood. "What's your point, Spock?" He knew he must be imagining the glimmer of pain in Spock's dark eyes as the Vulcan said, "I believe I am partially responsible for that division between you." For a suspended moment, Kirk remained frozen as the memory of hurtful, angry words hurled at McCoy so many years ago echoed in the air around them. Spock was right, Kirk had been devastated by his friend's choice to return to Vulcan. When McCoy had chosen to oppose and fight his own promotion, Kirk had seen it as betrayal. By both Spock and McCoy. He had never felt so alone in his life. Except when Spock died. Kirk felt his chest tighten, angry now at both of his friends. Dammit, they were on a camping trip to enjoy themselves, not to reminisce about times that he did not want to think about. Next, McCoy would be asking him to talk about David. Kirk tossed the last of his coffee on the ground. "I'm going for a walk." "At night?" McCoy threw at him. "Just to avoid talking? Thought you were angry with me for not telling you about my father. What's the difference? You won't talk to us." Already striding out of the sphere of the campfire, Kirk spun on his heel. Not sure why, the captain only knew he was furious with both McCoy and Spock. "Talk? McCoy you know more about my psyche than I do. Every time something happens to me, I'm required to talk with you. There's nothing about me that's private. In the past, you knew how it felt for me to be split into two people, to turn into a woman, to be tortured, to watch people I love die. I've shared nearly everything with the two of you. At first, because I was forced to and then because I wanted to. Now, I find out that you've both held out on me. Spock has done it for years." He glared at the Vulcan. "Remember Spock, putting me in the embarrassing position of not realizing the Ambassador was your father? So far, you didn't think it was important to tell me about T'Pring, your parents, T'Pau and now Sybok. Come to think of it, you really never explained about Saavik either. " Kirk was unable to stop the words or to control on his shaking anger. "Do you suppose Bones, he has a wife and child at home and we don't know it?" He did not wait for a reply, knowing that the last thing he wanted to hear was Spock's calm voice placating him. Heading out of the campground, Kirk plunged down a nearby trail. McCoy swore under his breath and glared at Kirk's retreating back. Solemn brown eyes lifted to meet his across the fire. The doctor resisted the urge to shout after the captain. Instead, he grabbed a stick, shoving it angrily into the fire. It caused a burst of flame which sent sparks in the Vulcan's direction. Spock moved back without comment. "Sorry." McCoy forced himself to drop the stick and his anger at the same time. He glanced at Spock with a grin. "So, do you?" There was a moment's pause before Spock replied. "No, I do not have a wife or a child." "Any other brothers or sisters we don't know about?" "No. I could provide you with a genealogical history if you would like." McCoy shook his head. "No, wouldn't be any fun. Besides, that's not the problem. Jim is. These dumb stunts of his are a warning signal. He could have been killed today and all because he refuses to take the proper safety precautions. He's always been one to take risks but not like this. It's insane." "He is hurt. I get glimpses but he will not allow me to help." Spock glanced at the empty trail. The doctor was surprised by Spock's admission. He knew the Vulcan was referring to Kirk's mental anguish rather than the temporary pain he was experiencing tonight from his near fatal mishap today. One in the growing list of dangerous undertakings of the captain in the last few months. "I didn't expect him to lash out at us like that. I should have though. Nothing in Jim's world has been very stable in the last few months." He caught the dark eyes staring at him. "First he lost you and thought he was losing me." Again, Spock turned to watch the path Kirk had disappeared on. "And in saving me, he was forced to sacrifice his son and the Enterprise." "And his career." McCoy found another stick and shoved over a log in the fire. "When he needed to talk the most, I was incapacitated and you were with the Vulcan Healers. Since then, there's been very little time." "Then the discovery of my brother and the revelations Sybok forced from us were a form of betrayal to Jim." "I think he sees it that way. Then I went a step further and nearly sided with Sybok against him." Spock must have heard the self-recrimination in his voice. McCoy shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Every so often, the nagging fear that they were still psychically connected despite or because of that damned Fal Tor Pan made the hairs on his neck rise. He had noticed too often of late that Spock was more sensitive to his feelings. He wasn't about to admit that vice versa was true or that he had known when Spock's surprise had turned to confusion and pain during Kirk's tirade a few minutes ago. "Sybok is to blame for that, not you. It is the reason his name was stricken from all recorded Vulcan history and it was forbidden to speak it. Do you understand now why I have not spoken of him before, not only because of the ruling but because he left nothing but pain in his wake?" "Even for you." He did not have to see Spock's nod to know he acknowledged the comment. They lapsed back into silence. McCoy forced himself to relax, watching the dancing flames before him. His eyelids were growing heavy when he heard the sound of Kirk's footsteps crunching the dry leaves as the captain returned to the campsite. Limping back to the fire, Kirk accepted a cup of coffee from Spock. A tinge of irritation pushed any sleepiness away as McCoy watched Kirk's awkward attempt to casually sit while favoring his right side. His earlier attempts to examine the captain's injuries had been rudely brushed aside and though McCoy knew it was childish, Kirk was going to have to ask for help before he offered it again. Kirk glanced at McCoy, holding one hand out toward the warmth of the fire. "Nippy out there." McCoy bit back a retort, only raising an eyebrow in reply. Damned if he was going to open any more deep conversations tonight. Spock could try if he wanted. Soothing, gentle sounds drifted toward them as Spock started strumming lightly on his lyre. McCoy felt some of his annoyance at Kirk fade away as the soft chords floated around him leaving a melancholy sadness in its wake. He heard Kirk say softly to Spock, "Are you just going to strum that thing all night or play something on it?" McCoy risked a glance at Kirk just as the Vulcan started playing the simple round they had tried to teach Spock a few weeks before. The Captain broke into a joyful smile, his eyes dancing with gentle laughter. McCoy looked away, not wanting to intrude on the shared moment. The flames danced in front of him, and McCoy stared into them, distancing himself from his two friends. He wondered if he was losing the fine edge he used to have with Kirk. McCoy had plenty of theories about Kirk's death-defying stunts but until he knew exactly what was going on in the captains ever-active imagination he could be of no help. Faintly, he heard Spock and Kirk singing, their voices interweaving softly, sharing almost intimately their trust and friendship. There was a tap on his leg, pulling him back from his contemplation. He looked over to find Kirk's twinkling eyes asking him to join in the round. McCoy glanced at Spock, not missing the soft sparkle in the brown eyes before the Vulcan bent his head back to his lyre. They sang several rounds, enjoying the magic circle of love that surrounded them. But then McCoy faltered as he glanced back at the relaxed, open face of his captain. Considering his actions only a few days before when he had so nearly been swayed to side with Sybok against Kirk, the doctor found that he questioned his own ability to help the captain. No wonder Kirk was angry with him. McCoy shook his head in wonder at his own actions. He did not agree with Spock that he could blame Sybok. He had always taken responsibility for his own actions. Kirk stopped singing, turning puzzled eyes toward him. Eyes that changed to concern and then wariness. McCoy cringed, feeling Spock's eyes on him also, was unable to explain. "I'm worn out. I'm going to turn in." McCoy withdrew from them, knowing that he had effectively destroyed the mood for all three of them yet his own confusion forced him to retreat to his own company. Long into the night, Spock contemplated both McCoy's and Kirk's actions. He sensed pain and confusion from both his friends, in fact had been aware of it since the mission with Sybok. The resonance between them at times vibrated with the buried emotions, driving Spock to suggest a retreat to this secluded area in his desire to aid both men and work through his own questions. In years past, Spock knew he would have avoided such an attempt to reach out to his friends and share their pain. The experiences in the last few months had changed him. Knowing the many trials that both his friends had gone through to save his own life, Spock could not turn his back on an opportunity to assist them, even if it meant traveling down paths that were unfamiliar or uncomfortable for him. A moment of doubt assailed him at his own reasoning, wondering if it was truly due to his own experiences or if it were possible that his recent interactions with Sybok were influencing his behavior patterns. He opened his eyes, seeking out the stars to retreat from the thought. McCoy had been right when he stated earlier that Sybok had caused him much pain as well. Dawn was pushing the darkness of the night away when he heard McCoy climb out of his sleeping bag and go to Kirk's side. The hiss of a hypo accompanied by the doctor's grumbling told Spock that he had not been the only one to hear the captain's frequent tossing and turning during the night. They were arguing even now in whispers, apparently unaware that Spock could overhear everything they were saying. McCoy was attempting to examine his leg but Kirk stubbornly refused the offer. Finally, the doctor swore and stomped off into the nearby trees. In the sudden silence, Kirk sat up, a grey shape in the early morning dusk. He climbed stiffly out of his own bag. However, the limp both men had noted the night before was minimal as Kirk also disappeared into the woods. When he reappeared a few minutes later, Kirk stopped beside the dead fire shivering. With his bedpack already neatly rolled, Spock retrieved both of their jackets. Kirk took his with a soft grunt and shrugged into its warmth. As the captain started working on the campfire, Spock gathered up McCoy's jacket. "I shall check on the doctor." Kirk straightened, grimacing with the motion. "He should be back soon. I doubt he's in the mood for company." "Nevertheless, I will give him the opportunity to tell me so." Kirk took a step closer, peering intently at Spock. "Are you sensing something's wrong?" Spock allowed an eyebrow to rise in his surprise. Kirk had never before alluded to the resonance between him and McCoy. "No. However, like you, he is troubled." The captain looked away from his gaze. "I'll get breakfast started." Spock watched for a moment as Kirk gathered the supplies for breakfast. Even though he sensed he was the key to both his friends' difficulties, he was unused to being the one to attempt to interpret human emotional entanglements. He took a step closer to Kirk, drawing his attention. "Jim, does the resonance that I now also share with McCoy present a difficulty for you?" The early morning light made it difficult to see Kirk clearly, but Spock was easily able to sense the captain's surprise and bewilderment at the question. His answer was quick and short. "No, why should it?" Spock was much more closely attuned to Kirk and knew the instant the captain's feeling turned to anger. Inclining his head briefly, Spock replied before retreating, "Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude. I have noticed a reluctance on your part to acknowledge that it exists. I meant no criticism." Spock was nearly out of their camping area when Kirk called his name. "Spock it isn't reluctance . . . really. It's more that I felt like it would be intruding on your privacy." "Interesting." Spock shifted McCoy's coat. "Would you not agree that you experience a degree of discomfort with the fact that there is a resonance between McCoy and me?" Kirk rose slowly from where he knelt by the fire, taking a step toward Spock. His voice was disbelieving. "Did I hear you right? Are you accusing me of being jealous? That I resent it?" Spock frowned, knowing his expression was hidden by the early morning dusk. This was why he did not enter the arena of the human psyche. There were too many layers and tracks that constantly interwove. Even a mind as disciplined and structured as the captain's took confusing turns when emotion was involved. "The terminology I employed was discomfort. I did not intend to intimate any other emotion." The tension between them eased as Kirk chuckled unexpectedly. "Of course not, Mr. Spock. I apologize for the misinterpretation. Go on, find McCoy. I'll get breakfast started." They finished a quick breakfast without incident, keeping their conversation limited to safer subjects. McCoy remained irritable, finally breaking down enough to ask Kirk if he really felt up to a day of climbing through ruins. Spock had his own reservations, but remained silent when Kirk answered the doctor's question by simply grabbing up his backpack and slipping it on. The three were soon headed to the trail that led to the huge ruin built high in the side of a cliff. Steep paths and ladders were the only access to the ruin, causing McCoy to aim his barbs at Spock. "Did you have to choose something that would encourage Jim to keep imitating a mountain goat? He may enjoy it but I don't." Kirk was already on the ledge of the first manmade cave. He sat on the edge, waiting for them to join him. "And you're damned slow at it too, Bones. Getting old, I'd say." Again, the tension flared between them. The normal byplay of teasing between them was ending more frequently in anger. McCoy paused on the rung of the ladder to glare up at Kirk. "Damned right. I am too old to keep playing your games." Spock debated the wisdom of reminding the doctor that this expedition had been his own idea, not the captain's. Silence seemed to be the wiser decision. Kirk gave McCoy a hand over the ledge, the tension disappearing between them. The two men waited until Spock joined them. All three took in the awesome sight of the ruins of a long dead civilization which, using only primitive handmade tools, had managed a feat that modern day people would find difficult. They spent the entire day exploring together, putting any disagreements temporarily on hold. Grateful and intrigued, Spock attempted to analyze the different aspects of each of their relationships to discover the cause for their tension and just how they could dispel it so easily. However, there were too many gaps in his Fal Tor Pan retraining regarding the psychosocial aspects of humans to adequately complete his evaluation. While exploring the chambers that ran from cave to cave, all three had been delighted to discover the living quarters included an upstairs and downstairs and were now exploring the lower levels. They were far back in the chambers when McCoy mentioned the time, wondering if they should not be preparing to leave since climbing out of them could prove dangerous after dark. Besides, the ruins closed at dusk. Having located a new display of primitive tools, Kirk brushed McCoy's concerns away, reminding him that the park rangers would tell them when it was time to go. McCoy subsided, leaving them to investigate their find in peace. He wandered away and returned nearly fifteen minutes later. "Gentlemen, I believe we have a problem. I can't find any ladders to get us to the upper levels. The one we used to get down here is missing and I also don't hear anyone around." As if on cue, the lighting in the chamber they were in flickered off, leaving them in total darkness. The stunned silence was broken by Kirk's laughter. McCoy grumbled, "You would find this funny." There was the sound of rustling from the captain's location. With eyes already adjusted to the dark, Spock followed Kirk's movements as he bent over his backpack. He was blinded suddenly when the captain pulled out a lightcam and turned it on. "Here, Bones," Kirk handed the light to McCoy. "You take this. I think we'd better go make some noise before they completely close up shop." Fifteen minutes later, their attempts to alert someone by calling for help had not been answered. McCoy was getting more annoyed with Kirk who kept chuckling every few minutes. "Does everything have to be a game with you anymore, Jim?" McCoy snapped, shining the light toward the ledge nearly fifteen feet above them. "No," Kirk answered mildly. "However, it's not like we're in any trouble. All we have to do is wait here until morning." "And be damned cold and uncomfortable in the meantime." "There's firewood here and mats to sleep on." Kirk gestured toward the other chamber that held a central fire pit. Spock cleared his throat. "Captain, this is a historical site. We could cause damage to valued and irreplaceable items." McCoy joined in, "Yeah, not to mention we'd be breaking the law." Kirk chuckled again, muffling it when McCoy growled in annoyance. "All the more reason to make a fire, Bones. If it brings someone to see who's breaking the law, then we'll be rescued. We'll just make sure we don't disturb the items that are definitely from previous civilizations." "Well, I for one do not plan to spend the night here." McCoy snapped. Spock turned to regard the ledge rising high above them. "Captain, it may be possible for one of us to reach the top, using each other for support." Kirk followed the light to the ledge. "It'd still be a few centimeters too far." Shining the cam around the hollowed out cave, the light fell on a handmade bench. He was grateful the dark hid his grin as he heard Spock's immediate indrawn breath of protest at he studied the artifact and then continued past the bench. They were forced to search far back into the chambers of the cave before locating a large boulder. Rolling the boulder into position became another obstacle in their attempts to avoid damaging any of the relics in their path. Twenty-eight minutes later, boulder in place next to the ledge, Spock studied the distance, calculating the leverage he would need to make it to the top. McCoy had plopped to the ground, for the moment keeping his frustration to himself. The captain was leaning against the boulder, uncharacteristically quiet. As he watched him, Kirk grimaced and straightened. Ignoring Spock's questioning look, he came to stand at his side, looking up at the ledge. "You're still going to need a boost, Spock." The captain climbed onto the boulder. Spock hesitated. "Jim, I could injure you, my body mass--" "Spock, you need to be the one to go for help, not me. I don't . . . " Spock caught a brief grimace of annoyance and pain on Kirk's face and knew that his leg was causing him far more discomfort than he was letting on. McCoy stood up, brushing loose dirt from his hands. "I can try to lift Spock." Kirk shared a look with Spock before shaking his head at McCoy. The captain had the body build to support the Vulcan's full weight and had years of experience and practice working out with Spock. Both Kirk and Spock recognized the doctor could be seriously injured in such an attempt and were in agreement. "Thanks Bones, it's not that we don't trust you, it's just---" McCoy continued drily, "That you don't trust me." Spock removed his boots, handing them to the doctor. Taking the hand Kirk offered, Spock joined the captain on the boulder. Kirk knelt, remaining steady as Spock clambered awkwardly onto his shoulders. The cave wall was flat and he was unable to find any handholds to help with working his way toward the top. Kirk straightened slowly, managing to push Spock closer to the ledge. He was forced to leap the last couple of centimeters, catching the edge with both hands. Precariously hanging there, the dirt began to crumble under his fingers, and Spock felt himself slipping. The captain grabbed his feet, pushing him upward. The Vulcan pulled himself forward when he felt the ledge breaking free under his hands. There was no stopping the cascade of dirt and rock once it started, the loss of control sending him careening back down to land hard on top of Kirk and the boulder. They landed in a confused tangle on the ground below, a shower of small rocks and dirt throwing a light cover over all of them as the lightcam went dark. Spock could hear McCoy cursing and coughing. There was no sound from Kirk. The captain lay mostly underneath Spock with one of his legs oddly twisted over the Vulcan's thigh. Shifting carefully, Spock immediately froze at the sharp intake of pain the movement caused. "Jim?" The voice was muffled. "Okay . . . leg hurts. Think it's . . . broken." McCoy was already moving. "Stay still both of you, until I find the light." A few seconds later, he knelt beside the two men. His study of the injured leg was brief. "Damn. You're right, Jim. It's broken." He sat back on his heels. "You okay Spock?" "Yes." "All right." McCoy sat the cam down beside him. "Spock, when I tell you, roll out quickly. Jim, this is going to hurt." "Already . . . hurts," came the reply. At McCoy's order, Spock slid out from under the injured leg. Kirk's cry of pain cut off in mid scream. The Vulcan knelt beside him, his anxiety growing when the hand he grasped lay limply in his own. "Doctor?" "Fainted. That's good. It's a bad break." McCoy was busy tearing the pant's leg. Spock's help was needed to remove the boot. He caught glimpses of a jagged bone pushing through the skin as he supported the foot. "He managed to break both the tibia and fibula. Resetting this type of break is too risky, I could cause irreversible damage to a nerve or worse nick an artery." He looked up at Spock. "We need help now. See if Jim has a communicator in his pack." Spock rose with alacrity, going immediately to the backpack. He should have considered this before they even attempted to climb their way out. Pausing in his search, another thought occurred to him. "Doctor, do you not have your medikit?" There was a long pause, Spock feeling a moment of panic as he realized what the silence meant. "I left it with my bedroll this morning, Spock. Didn't remember until we were almost here. Tell me you've found a communicator." Finishing his search, Spock brought the backpack and lay it near McCoy. "It must be at the camp as well. I know the captain brought one this time." "Damn!" McCoy cursed again. He nodded toward the backpack. "There's water in there. Pour some over the wound. And then figure out some way to prop the leg up so we can support it." At the first drops of water, Kirk moaned. Spock forced himself to keep cleansing the wound until McCoy was satisfied. Using a couple of logs with the backpack as a cushion, the doctor was able to safely rest the leg against it. Wide awake now, a shiver of pain shook the captain's body, forcing him to bite his lip against the pain. When the pain eased, Kirk glanced over at McCoy, a smile creasing his pale face. "Made a tactical error. Should've trusted you to hold Spock." The doctor shook his head. "So I could have the broken leg? No, your tactical error came when you forgot to bring along your communicator." Kirk sent a guilty glance to Spock. "I left it with my bedroll." Spock could not resist commenting drily, "The bedrolls seem to be a popular place to leave items of value." "Oh?" Kirk questioned. "My medikit, Jim." McCoy answered apologetically. "I left it at the campsite this morning." Spock watched Kirk absorb the information. The facial muscles tightened but he did not comment on the implications. "So I'm . . . we're stuck here until help arrives. I don't think you should attempt to climb out again. It's too dangerous." "Agreed." Spock glanced at the offending edge. "Perhaps your suggestion of building a fire has merit. It could bring a rescue party." "Or a firing squad. This is a national treasure, Spock." McCoy snapped. "Besides, we need to get Jim to help now, not in the morning." Spock studied McCoy, attempting to read the message behind his words. "You believe Jim will be endangered by spending the night without medical assistance?" "No . . . yes . . . dammit Spock!" McCoy sputtered. "Jim, I can't do anything for you here. I can't stop your pain. And I can't prevent you from going into shock or stabilize you if you do." Kirk touched the doctor's arm. "Bones, let's take one thing at a time. I can deal with the pain. It's just until morning- -" He broke off, a strange look crossing his face. "Jim? What is it?" McCoy asked anxiously. Kirk shook his head, "Nothing, just remembered something. I'll be all right. It's just a broken leg." "Just a broken leg." McCoy grumbled. "I should've had Spock hogtie you this morning and checked you out. I have the feeling this bone was already stressed from that fall yesterday. This is an unusually severe break." Kirk frowned, shifting his glance between Spock and McCoy. Suddenly he shivered, wincing in reaction. The expression pushed Spock into action. "If I remember my basic first aid Doctor, the victim should be kept as warm and comfortable as possible until assistance can arrive. I believe I will attempt to build a fire." Fortunately, the fire pit in the next chamber had logs and twigs placed to imitate a fire. There was a supply of wood nearby and a sample of flintrock was available to start a flame. It required several false attempts before Spock was able to get a small fire started. Once he was assured the fire was going well, Spock rejoined Kirk and McCoy in the next chamber. "I believe it would be best if we moved closer to the fire." Spock carried the captain with McCoy supporting the leg , the doctor's face paling in empathetic agony at Kirk's labored breathing. The move was made as efficiently and quickly as possible but Spock was keenly aware through his touch of the sharp jolts of agony the captain experienced with each step. Both remained at his side as Kirk fought to control the pain, his breathing harsh with continued agony. His face was ghostly pale, huge beads of sweat covering his forehead and lip. "Oh, god, Bones . . . " He grated out after several minutes. "It feels like something sharp is cutting . . . getting worse." Spock touched Kirk's shoulder, not surprised to find Kirk was trembling. McCoy ordered, "Spock, support Jim if you can. Something may be pressing against a nerve. I'm going to reposition the leg." All color drained from Kirk's face at McCoy's words. Unable to see Kirk suffer any longer, Spock raised his hand to place it on Kirk's face, preparing to meld with him and ease his pain. Kirk's reaction was instantaneous. "No, Spock. You can't. The healers said it would be too dangerous." He dropped his head back to the ground, clenching his teeth. "I can handle it, Spock." The Vulcan did not withdraw his hand. "I can ease your pain, Jim. Let me try." McCoy unexpectedly took Kirk's side. "Spock, Jim's right. The healers were emphatic about the risks to your mind until you are fully healed from the Fal Tor Pan. You cannot risk it." Spock frowned at both men, seeing McCoy's frustration and the captain's wide eyes, glassy with pain. He conceded by grasping Kirk's hand and gripping his shoulder. Closing his eyes, through the contact, he attempted to send a simple method of pain reduction through the nerve synapses. It was a stop gap measure but it was better than nothing. Faintly, he heard McCoy warn Kirk and then an explosion of pain sent him reeling backward to land close to the fire. McCoy struggled to keep his hands steady as Kirk reacted to his manipulation of the limb. He had no way of knowing if he was accomplishing any therapeutic good from his action. Shifting the leg slightly, he felt the bones grate and then heard Kirk's cry of agony. For the second time in less than an hour, Kirk fainted and McCoy froze until he saw the captain draw a breath. He felt more than heard Spock fall and cursed softly. Right now, he needed another hand to move the support under Kirk's leg. What he did not need was another patient to worry about. Carefully maneuvering, the doctor repositioned the injured limb. He swallowed hard as he noted that the leg was swelling rapidly. The bleeding, considering the injury, was minimal. However complications could become life threatening while they waited through the night. Kirk was already moaning softly but was not fully conscious yet. McCoy moved swiftly to Spock's side. Reaching for the Vulcan's pulse, McCoy assured himself that Spock was in no distress. Kirk moaned again and McCoy returned to kneel beside him. He touched the captain's arm, sliding his hand down to grasp Kirk's. The fingers curled tightly around his. "Bones?" "Right here, Jim. I want you to try to rest." Placing his other hand on Kirk's forehead, he stroked lightly across his temple and down the side of his face. Repeating this motion and using a soothing tone, McCoy attempted a mild form of hypnosis to encourage Kirk to sleep. His efforts were rewarded within minutes by deep, even breathing. There was no reaction when he removed his hand from Kirk's grasp. McCoy rose, stretching kinks from places he had not known existed. He was just now noticing bruises from the fall they had all taken earlier, nothing that needed to be treated but annoying none the less. He was getting too old for this. Glancing over at Spock, he found the Vulcan was sitting, watching him. Checking Kirk again, McCoy trudged over to sit beside Spock. "You want to tell me what happened?" Spock explained quietly, "I was attempting to assist Jim by altering his neural synapse response. The method does not require a mind meld. However, our minds are closely attuned. I believe I experienced direct backlash of Jim's pain. I was not prepared for it." McCoy narrowed his eyes at Spock. The Vulcan could not conceal the truth in a garble of scientific or cultural mumbo jumbo. "So, explain the headache you have if you were not in mental contact with Jim?" An eyebrow arched sharply. "I do not believe I mentioned a headache." McCoy frowned, knowing that Spock was experiencing one but not willing to explain either to himself or Spock how he knew. The awareness had come when he touched Spock earlier to ensure he was all right. "Well, it ought to prove to you the folly of attempting a mind meld to help Jim." A flicker of annoyance crossed Spock's face. "I do not follow your logic. What occurred had nothing to do with a mind meld. It does not rule out an attempt if one proves necessary." "Oh, I can see it now. Me stuck here in this cave for who knows how many hours with a raving mad Vulcan after such an attempt and Jim, who'll be so worried about you that he'll drag himself to your side, broken leg or not, if he thinks you're hurt. Be my guest." McCoy's sarcasm turned more harsh than he intended. "Ignore my advice which, by the way, comes straight from your Vulcan gurus. I'll be the first to tell you I told you so." Spock raised an eyebrow in response. "Doctor, you have an annoying tendency of being overly dramatic." He glanced over at the quiet form nearby. "Interesting that it is acceptable for you to use a form of mind touch with the Captain yet you deny me the opportunity." "What?" McCoy's reaction was instantaneous and loud. He lowered his voice, surprised to find it was shaking. "What the hell do you mean?" Nodding toward Kirk, Spock said, "You assisted Jim to sleep by utilizing a mind technique." "I used hypnosis, if that's what you mean,"McCoy growled. "Agreed," Spock paused, "However, through the touch you reinforced the suggestive nature of your words. Otherwise, due to the pain he is experiencing, Jim would not have responded to a simple technique of hypnosis." Somewhere in a far corner of his mind was an acknowledgement of Spock's statement, but panic made McCoy scramble to deny the suggestion that he was capable of mental contact. "I have used the techniques of hypnosis since before you were . . . at the Academy. I've used it many times, some of those in situations when there was no other opportunity for treatment of symptoms. Jim's response is due to a simple technique, Spock, nothing more." "As you wish, Doctor." Spock rose, crossing the chamber to disappear into the inky blackness of the next room. Returning with his arms laden with packages, McCoy watched curiously until finally realizing these were the items that had been in the backpack that was now being used to support Kirk's leg. An inventory of the contents was brief, and McCoy would have traded it all for a communicator. There was a survival knife and several packets of food so there was no danger of them starving. Water packets weren't quite as plentiful, yet if the two of them were conservative in their rationing, there would be plenty for Kirk to last through the night. Keeping him well hydrated would be essential. One flat, square plastic container caught McCoy's eye. He picked it up curiously and attempted to open it. "This isn't food. What is it, Spock?" Spock glanced at the package. "I believe it is a type of mattress activated when you . . . " Before he could finish explaining, the packet literally exploded from McCoy's hands. A soft, fluffy bedroll rapidly expanded to a full man's size. "Fantastic!" Grinning, the doctor stretched out on top of the mattress, "Ahh, I'll sleep like a king." Lifting his head, he added, "Finders, keepers." The doctor grinned at the look Spock sent him and despite the flickering darkness, knew that one eyebrow had risen sharply at his statement. Allowing himself the luxury of lying down for several seconds more, McCoy sat up. He glanced at Kirk. "He needs this." Soft amusement lit Spock's voice. "I believe disturbing the captain now to place this under him would do more harm than good. It would probably be prudent for you to use the bedroll now and rest while Jim is sleeping. We can slide it under him when he's awake." "Sound advice." The doctor lay back down, turning on his side. Spock was right, Jim would need him alert later. He knew he could trust Spock to awaken him at the first sign of trouble. Surprisingly, it took very little effort to drift asleep. Kirk fell out of the nightmare abruptly, his heart pounding. The brief surge of adrenaline brought sudden awareness of hot throbbing pain in his leg. Forcing himself to breathe normally, memory came flooding back as the pain eased. He had broken his leg and they were stuck here until help arrived. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust to the flickering glow of the firelight. Spock sat close by, legs folded yoga fashion. With his peripheral vision, he could barely see the outline of McCoy sleeping on the other side of the fire. The logs shifted causing a crackling surge of flame. Kirk watched the smoke circle up through the opening in the top of the cave. These ruins had always held a fascination for him. He commented quietly, "The construction of these dwellings is one of the most amazing sights I think I've ever seen." Spock turned sharply, "Jim. How are you feeling?" Kirk grimaced in annoyance. Spock of all people should understand no purpose was served in discussing his injury. He ignored the question. "How much have you studied about the Anasazi Indians? Don't you feel that the construction of these cliff dwellings is truly one of the most fantastic accomplishments in the universe?" "Possibly in the known universe." Spock clarified. "The planning, the labor . . ." Kirk trailed off, shivering. "They were well protected from enemies, the weather. I would imagine they stockpiled quite well for winter. The storage chambers--" Another chill shook him causing fiery shoots of pain to course up his leg. "Are you cold?" Spock placed his hand on Kirk's forehead, a frown crossing his face. He placed another log on the fire and then crossed over to a display that contained several Indian artifacts. He began to remove a woven blanket from the case. "Spock, don't!" Kirk whispered. "I'm not that cold. These artifacts are invaluable." Ignoring him, the Vulcan continued with his task. He draped the blanket carefully across Kirks chest and arms, tucking it snugly around his shoulders. "You are no less valuable than these artifacts." Arguing with Spock was frequently an exercise in futility. Kirk had to admit the warmth felt good, however there seemed to be a factor Spock was pointedly ignoring. The captain sniffed the air and when Spock did not comment, he sniffed again noisily. "This stinks horribly, Spock!" "As Dr. McCoy is so fond of commenting, one should not look a gift Vulcan in the mouth." Spock knelt beside him, cocking his head slightly. "I have never discussed that particular saying with him. I am not certain of its meaning." Kirk took one last sniff. "It means Spock, I shouldn't complain about the smell and appreciate the warmth." An eyebrow arched, "I do not see the correlation." "Dammit, do I have to explain everything to you, Spock?" McCoy's gruff voice complained. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "My great-grandpappy always said before you bought a piece of horseflesh you should check his health by looking at his teeth. But if you receive a horse as a gift then it would be ungracious to check his teeth." "Ah, then you are comparing me to a horse?" McCoy groaned. He stood, stretching his arms. "Sometimes Spock, you annoy me." Kirk grinned at the still raised eyebrow. He asked softly, "What time is it?" "Four hundred hours." Spock answered. "I would estimate approximately four point five hours before we are discovered." The captain watched McCoy cross to his side, wondering for a moment whether to tell his friends that the park was closed today. He had remembered last night but decided then not to upset the doctor more than he already was. "Good," McCoy was saying. He turned on the light, studying Kirk's leg. "Guess you were right, Jim. Only a few more hours and we're home free." He turned off the light, reaching out to take Kirk's pulse. "How are you feeling?" Annoyed at the question, Kirk snapped, "How do you think, Bones? Like someone with a broken leg. I'm cold, uncomfortable and in pain. What difference does knowing that make?" "Grumpy too." McCoy squeezed his hand gently before letting go. He rested his hand on Kirk's forehead. "No fever, but you've been sweating and now you're chilling." He smoothed the captain's hair back, running his hand soothingly over his head. Kirk was surprised as some of his tension eased with McCoy's attention. The doctor repeated the gesture while speaking quietly to Spock. "Hand me a water packet, Spock." His mouth and tongue had begun to feel increasingly dry and gritty. Kirk drank the packet greedily. "Thanks, Bones." "Anytime," McCoy rested his hand for a moment longer on the captain's head before removing it. Kirk felt oddly bereft, wanting to tell the doctor to continue. The words stuck in his throat. Even here, he found it hard to admit to need. "About the uncomfortable part, we can probably help you. However, after this is over, I have a bone to pick with you about the survival items you included in your backpack. Seems you were overly interested in eating and not in surviving." McCoy moved back around the campfire, picking a mat up from where he had been lying. "This was in your backpack, and I must say, it feels pretty darned good. Should help you stay warmer, keeping you off the ground." Kirk shivered but not from cold as the doctor returned with the mat. The thought of moving outweighed any thoughts of solace obtained by using the mat. Spock was watching him carefully, leaning forward to take his hand. "Bones," he said, stopping McCoy as he straightened the mat out beside him. "If I promise not to complain again about being uncomfortable can we forget about moving me onto it?" "Pain?" McCoy asked softly. Kirk smiled tightly. "It's manageable now. I would rather not attempt to move and . . . it's just a few more hours until . . . daylight." McCoy nodded. "Spock, how about you?" He gestured at the mattress. "Need a break?" The Vulcan shook his head. McCoy sighed, bending to reposition the mattress. "Jim, lift your head, at least you can get some support there." Kirk had to admit the softness felt better and warmer. He debated allowing the mat to be moved under him but the remembered pain from his last move won the argument. McCoy settled down on one side of him, with Spock on the other. Kirk sent a speculative look at Spock before asking McCoy, "Bones, I've been wanting to ask you, but didn't quite know how . . ." The doctor leaned back, keeping his face in the shadows. "What?" "Yesterday morning, Spock said he sensed you were troubled." Kirk lifted a hand to touch McCoy's arm. "What's wrong?" The doctor sent an irritated look at Spock. "You're getting to be a bit of a busybody, don't you think?" Spock met the doctor's eyes evenly but did not reply. The response seemed to anger McCoy, and he straightened, his blue eyes blazing angrily in the glow of the firelight. "Doesn't take much to figure out what's wrong with me. Your continuing flirtation with death. It's not me that's troubled, it's you. But you're too stubborn to talk about it!" Kirk kept his tone mild, but it did not mask his own irritation. "I thought perhaps my injury might keep you from going for my jugular which seems to be your forte lately." "You asked for it!" McCoy blasted. He drew a calming breath. "Your injuries wouldn't be so severe if you hadn't been so foolhardy. Windgliding without the appropriate protection is the height of stupidity!" Kirk ignored the anger. From the very beginning of their long relationship, McCoy's honesty was one of the attributes that Kirk appreciated the most. But how could he explain to them what he couldn't explain to himself? "How did you find out about that? I thought you went to that lecture series?" McCoy sent a brief glance at Spock. Kirk narrowed his eyes at the Vulcan. "Spock? I thought you planned to meditate then?" The Vulcan took a deep breath. "I was meditating. I hesitate to speak of this, for both of you seem reluctant to acknowledge the link that now binds the three of us together. While I was meditating, I felt your thoughts reaching for me." "You knew when I fell?" Kirk tensed. The instant result was sharp pain, white hot in its intensity. He drew a slow breath to relax, willing away the inner trembling it left behind. "Then and before. You called to me before your attempt to windglide." "My thoughts?" Kirk stared at the Vulcan. "Explain." Spock folded his hands. "Not thoughts specifically, more like a sensation that you were in distress." The Vulcan paused as if he were carefully choosing his words. "In the past, this has only occurred when you were in danger. I believe there have been occasions also where you were aware of the same sensation when I was in danger." Kirk remembered a mission that had gone sour. A mission where everyone was convinced Spock was dead. Except for him. "Yes, you know I have." "Recently, the resonance between us has been stronger. I have experienced and learned to assimilate more of your emotions." Spock shook his head slightly. "I cannot explain why, nor can I assure you that I, in some way, may or may not be affecting your reactions. I do not believe my mental control is completely sound." McCoy grumbled, "Finally he admits to being fallible." The doctor checked Kirk before glancing at Spock. "You felt a sensation of distress from Jim, nothing else?" "Pain, deep pain of the soul. And fear." Spock whispered. A shiver of that same fear made him bite his lip against the pain it caused. The confused tangle of anger and grief left from the deaths of his son and the Enterprise coming almost before he could accept that Spock and McCoy were safe was buried deep. And he intended to leave it there until he was ready to face his losses. Searing anger flooded him. "What gives you the right to analyze me?" McCoy laid a hand on his arm. "Jim, he's your friend. Who else could you trust?" Panic made him wound where he had no desire to hurt. "I seem to remember you begging me to trust Sybok not very long ago!" McCoy withdrew his hand and shrank back into the shadows but not before Kirk witnessed the hurt in his eyes. Subduing his own fear did not allow him the luxury of apologizing to his friend. Spock's voice drew both of them back. "It is because of Sybok that I have attempted to examine our relationship closely. The Doctor chooses not to admit to the resonance that we share due to the Fal Tor Pan. And I have noted a distinct reluctance on the Captain's part to acknowledge that a resonance does exist between the doctor and me." For the first time, a hint of amusement crept into McCoy's tone. "Jealous, Jim?" Kirk was still backpeddling, desperate to change the subject. Anything to keep from talking about himself, to keep from remembering. "Bones, after all these years of knowing Spock, what's so bad about sharing a link with him?" McCoy rose suddenly, pacing across the room. "It's the middle of the night and we are stranded inside a cave on Earth of all places. You're seriously injured. I really don't know why we're discussing this anyway." He picked up another log, adding it to the fire. Kirk felt suddenly warm. Pushing the odorous blanket back, he shifted restlessly. His reward was pain that seemed to knife him from his leg to the back of his neck. He gasped, closing his eyes tightly against the waves of agony. A hand grasped his, and Kirk held on tightly as he rode it out. A cool hand rested on his forehead. "Doctor, I believe he has a fever." The pain was easing. He looked up to discover two sets of concerned eyes watching him. McCoy put his hand on his forehead, then moved it to feel the back of his neck. "Jim?" "S'okay. Don't worry." Kirk managed, edges of pain still blurring his vision. "You have a slight fever. We need you to drink some more fluids." McCoy was holding another silver packet. Kirk nodded, drinking down nearly half before stopping. He shook his head when the doctor offered it to him again. "Later." He gripped Spock's hand harder as the pain swelled in intensity. Hot tears flooded his eyes. McCoy's hand on his head began a soothing, gentle massage helping Kirk to relax and float with the sensation. Only crackling sounds of the fire broke the silence when Kirk opened his eyes. He was not sure how much time had passed. Spock still held his hand but it was McCoy who rested his hand on the top of his head. "Better?" McCoy asked. Kirk lifted a hand to take McCoy's in his, squeezing it lightly. "Much, thanks." McCoy nodded, sending a sharp glance at Spock. Wondering what the look meant, Kirk sought out Spock. The Vulcan seemed as perplexed as Kirk. Without meaning to, he asked, "It seems lighter in here. What time is it?" "Seven hundred hours." "Hallelujah! Jim, we're home free." McCoy yelped. "Not more than a couple of hours now." Kirk smiled automatically. They would find out soon enough that no one would be arriving this morning. Telling McCoy now would accomplish nothing. He looked up to find Spock watching him closely. "Jim, I want you to drink the rest of this water. You still have a fever." Another silver packet was held in front of him. Kirk took a small sip, grimacing when he swallowed. His throat was so dry the liquid hurt going down. He managed to take a few drinks before handing it back with a shaking hand. "Later. Cold." As a chill shook him, the woven blanket was wrapped warmly around him. The smell hit him in the face a moment later. "It still stinks." "Here." The doctor was dragging his lightweight mattress to lay across his chest. "That should cover the smell. How does it feel?" Kirk snuggled his arms under the cover. "Better." "Try to rest for a while. It's not long now, Jim." He could hear the two men talking in soft whispers nearby, allowing him to drift off in safe comfort. The dreams that came were nightmarish in quality, his rest frequently disturbed when he inadvertently moved his leg. Shafts of daylight were lighting the chamber, the fire had been allowed to die. He still felt hot, shoving at the covers on top of him. "Mm . . . hot," he mumbled. The blankets were lifted off him, and Spock's warm, dry hand rested on his forehead. "I believe your fever has broken." Kirk stared up at the small hole in the ceiling. "Thirsty." He forced the drink past his scratchy, dry throat. By the time he finished the packet, he felt more awake. "Where's McCoy?" Spock produced a cool, wet cloth and started to bathe the beads of sweat from his face and neck. The coolness felt good to his skin. "He's in the next chamber, looking for some sign of the rangers. It is past time for them to open the park." "Oh." Pausing with the cloth in midair, Spock said thoughtfully, "I believe there is something you are not telling us." "There's a celebration in the town. Someone told me a couple of days ago that the ruins would be closed today." Kirk lifted sheepish eyes. "I know I told you we had to see the ruins yesterday, guess I forgot to tell you why." "You've known this all along?" Kirk waited a moment to answer. "I wanted McCoy to see I could make it through a night before laying this on him." "It is not him who has been injured. It is you we are concerned about." Sighing, Kirk admitted, "Guess I was a little afraid one of you would try climbing out of here again. We'd already proven it was dangerous and in the dark it would undoubtedly be deadly." Spock sponged his face again, draping the cloth neatly on his forehead. "I will inform McCoy." Left alone in the chamber, Kirk listened to the echoes of his two friends whispers, grateful that Spock was willing to take on McCoy's disgruntlement. Grimacing with the continuous pain, Kirk lifted his head to look at his leg and was immediately sorry. He dropped his head abruptly as he glimpsed a jagged end of bone piercing the skin. No wonder he felt as if something sharp was cutting him in two. It was. He could hear them returning. McCoy was silent, immediately stopping to study the injured leg. The blue eyes were dark when he faced Kirk. "Bones?" "It isn't good, Jim. We already know you have infection due to the fever, but it's rapidly becoming systemic. There are phlebitis streaks up your thigh that weren't there an hour ago." He touched the leg lightly yet Kirk had to grit his teeth against the painful pressure. "Another twenty-four hours here will be risky." The pressure lifted. Kirk ground out, "There's not much else we can do." McCoy paced around the chamber. "Dammit Jim, I want to blame you for this, but I'm just as much at fault as you. If I had not allowed my petty anger to get in the way, I'd at least have my medikit here now. And if you weren't into game playing, we'd have a communicator." "So we're both at fault. Where does that leave Spock?" Kirk asked curiously. The humor was back. "He's to blame the most, he fell on top of you and broke your leg." Kirk twisted his head, "Where is he anyway?" "Checking the damn walls. Thinks he's an Alturian Bat and can climb sideways up straight rock." McCoy dropped down to sit beside Kirk. "Try some more water?" Kirk shook his head. "He's not going to try is he?" McCoy touched his forehead. "If he does, it'll be safe. He's not into death-defying stunts like some people I know." Kirk glanced irritably at McCoy. "Bones, will you lay off?" "Sorry." The doctor replaced the cloth on his forehead and then began the oddly comforting massage on his scalp again. Kirk sighed softly. "Feels soothing." "What?" "When you do that, it helps me relax." There was a minute pause. "Spock says I'm using a form of mind touch when I'm doing this." Hearing the tightness in the doctor's voice, Kirk watched his face. "That frightens you, doesn't it?" "Good lord, yes! Of course it does. It's the same reason I don't like this resonance either. I don't want anything to do with mucking around in someone else's mind or anyone in mine. You know why I feel so strongly about it, Jim." "Perhaps it would help if I understood the reason, Doctor." Spock had entered so quietly neither man had heard his approach. "Spock!" McCoy exclaimed, turning sharply. "You're worse than having a cat around. Don't sneak up on me like that! Did you find a way out?" Spock's eyes sought Kirk's for a moment during McCoy's tirade, then rested back on the doctor. "No, I have not. Your statement before indicated that Jim is aware of a reason for your discomfort with mental techniques." Kirk almost sighed when McCoy began to talk his way around the answer. "It's not hard to figure out, Spock. Your Katra and I hardly got along. And then the experience with the Fal Tor Pan was no picnic for me either." Spock did sigh. "I am well aware of these events. I do not believe this is what you were referring to." "Bones," Kirk prompted softly. "Jim, I don't think . . ." McCoy began. Finally he nodded, "Spock, you better sit down. I don't think you're going to like this." The doctor swallowed, glancing at Kirk for a moment. "On our first tour aboard the Enterprise together, we encountered the parallel universe. Do you remember this incident?" Although Spock's memory was faulty in some areas of their history, Kirk had generally found that he knew the details of all their missions. The Vulcan nodded, kneeling on the opposite side of the captain. "We encountered the savage counterparts. Your counterpart was a man of honor in his world yet the culture was radically different from ours." McCoy paused again. "The parallel Spock . . . to discover who we were . . . forced me to mind meld with him." Kirk watched the Vulcan assimilate the information and seconds later, fight to keep the horror from his face and voice. "He . . . forced you?" McCoy took the question as a challenge to his honesty, not the disbelief Spock meant. The doctor's face flushed with anger. "Yes, forced, godammit. As in rape. He raped my mind to get the information." Kirk knew from past conversations with Spock that he considered this the most abhorrent crime a Vulcan could commit. The color drained from Spock's face and for one brief moment he swayed and Kirk thought he was going to faint. "Raped? My counterpart raped . . . your mind?" McCoy grabbed Spock's arm to steady him. He looked down at Kirk in between them, "I told you this wasn't a good idea." "I am all right, Doctor." Spock withdrew from McCoy's touch, drawing himself inward. It was Kirk he turned to, anger lighting the depths of the hooded eyes. "You've known of this?" At Kirk's nod, he demanded, "For how long?" "Since it happened." "Why?" Spock turned his questioning gaze on McCoy. "Why did you keep this from me? Do you fear me so much?" McCoy dropped his hand down to rest on Kirk's arm. "Frankly Spock, you've hit the nail on the head. I was terrified of you. I knew that I needed treatment but it would involve mental techniques. I believed I would end up totally insane. I realized, after time passed, that I had been totally irrational." "In not seeking assistance, you are fortunate you did not become insane." The dark eyes glittered as they stared down at Kirk. "You could have requested a neutral telepath for him. I do not understand why you took such a risk." "I tried. At first, he was so terrified of anyone touching his mind, keeping him calm became a primary focus. Then, I tried every argument in the book but couldn't win." "Spock, it wasn't Jim's fault. You know how I play dirty pool. I tricked him into not telling you." "You are attempting to tell me that you have carried this trauma, this fear all this time?" Spock could not seem to get his voice under his control. The hoarse whisper was painful to hear. "And then, without your consent, I forced my Katra on you." "You don't think I was afraid of you all these years, do you?" McCoy asked. "I was deathly afraid of someone touching my mind, yes. Even you. But, I trusted you, trust you now with my life. My reaction to your Katra was due to my fear, the consequences . . . I subconsciously fought you every step of the way. There was no way for your Katra to integrate with my mind. If I hadn't," His voice dropped to a ragged whisper. "If I had accepted your help so many years ago, then maybe we wouldn't have left you on Genesis. Maybe David would still be alive. And Jim wouldn't have been forced to watch the Enterprise be destroyed by his own hand." Kirk had to draw a steady breath against the sudden onslaught of pain. Pain at McCoy's words. With a shaking hand, he grabbed McCoy's arm. "It wasn't your fault." "No, Doctor." Spock added. "If anyone is to blame, it is I By placing my Katra in you, a sequence of events was set in motion." Kirk was beginning to shake. "Stop it! Neither of you were to blame. I have to believe what happened was meant to be. I can't live with it---" A strong chill caught him unaware and he broke off moaning. Pain sliced through his thoughts, bringing his world to a stand still. Chills were racking Kirk's body, the intensity increasing with each new wave. Kirk's battle against admitting to the pain was lost rapidly as the broken bones shifted from the continuous shaking. Placing the covers over him seemed to have no effect. Holding the captain's shoulders firmly down, Spock looked up to see his own feelings of helplessness and panic reflected in the doctor's eyes. "Spock, we've got to stop this!" The moans were changing to strangled screams. Spock gripped the shoulders tightly. "What is your normal procedure?" "Nothing I can do for him here!" McCoy snapped. "He needs an antipyretic and a relaxant that will stop the chills. The worse the chills are the higher his fever will be." Spock nodded. He lifted a hand to lightly touch Kirk's temple. "Doctor, I believe I can assist through a light mind touch. It does not require a deep meld. If you will permit me?" McCoy reached up to brush away the tears pooling in the corner of Kirk's eyes. "Yes, Spock. Hurry!" Spock carefully placed both hands on Kirk's face and temples. Circumventing the neural network, he sent a simplistic message to the hypothalamus to reduce the body's core temperature. The effort required was minimal and he followed the neural synapses to turn off the automatic response to the toxins invading Kirk's body. The results were slow and as the chilling decreased, Spock was increasingly aware of the knifelike agony Kirk was stoically enduring. McCoy was calling him back. Spock paused. To assist Jim further would require entering a deeper link. Hearing a lonely cry in the dark beyond, he pressed his hands firmly on the link points. His awareness of McCoy and the cave faded to nothingness. The link was almost instantaneously achieved and, truth to tell, probably would not have even required touch. 'I am here, Jim. Lean on me. Let me be your shield.' Tears. A smile. Felt rather than seen. 'Haven't you always been?' 'Yes. As you have been for me.' Pain, unrelenting and white-hot, battered at the edges of the meld. Spock stepped between the pain and absorbed the impact with all the strength he could summon. And failed. Kirk's scream of pain hit him at the same moment as the backlash of agony though the meld. Overwhelmed, he felt blackness tear the meld to shreds and he sank into it. McCoy leapt around Kirk in time to catch Spock as he slumped over. He had suspected something was wrong. Once the chilling had stopped, the Vulcan's refusal to break the link had alerted McCoy they were in trouble. Now, carefully lowering him to the ground, the doctor checked his pulse and pupil response. Kirk was still moaning, calling out for Spock. Knowing he could do nothing more at the present for the Vulcan, McCoy turned back to the captain. "Jim, Spock's right here." He caught the sides of Kirk's face. "Jim, look at me. Do you understand?" The eyes were glazed with pain and fever. Two bright pink spots on his cheeks telling McCoy that the fever was rising alarmingly. At least Spock had managed to stop the chills for the moment. "Spock...got...to help . . ." Kirk struggled to pull free of McCoy's grasp. McCoy glared briefly at Spock's still form. Just as he had predicted, the captain would ignore his own injury to ensure Spock was safe. "Jim, listen to me. It's Bones. Spock's all right. Jim." He got no response. Kirk was lost in a world of delirium and pain. His eyes fluttered closed and he drifted into a restless sleep, interrupted by frequent moans. McCoy's throat tightened in empathetic pain. He wiped another tear from Kirk's cheek, resting his hand again on Kirk's hot forehead. Remembering the captain's words from earlier, the doctor let his fingers gently glide down the scalp, repeating the soothing motion again and again. It took several minutes before he noticed that Kirk seemed quieter. Not stopping, he continued the massage unaware of the time or his own growing weariness. It took Spock physically removing his hand from Kirk's head for McCoy to regain awareness of his surroundings. The Vulcan knelt before him, the saturnine face reflecting the exhaustion McCoy was feeling. The doctor blinked, glancing back at Kirk. Spock pulled his attention back, touching him on the shoulder. "The Captain is resting at the moment. I believe you need to rest as well." "Spock?" He felt as if he were swimming slowly up through murky water to the surface. "You all right?" "I am unharmed." Tightness edged the words. "Come, you must replenish your energy reserves." McCoy obediently followed Spock across the chamber to the packets of water and food. His knees were shaking after the few steps and he sank to the floor, suddenly dizzy. "Feel sorta faint." A packet of food was placed in his hands. "I will explain. But first, you must eat." The packet was a warm gelatin. After the first few sips, he immediately felt better. McCoy held the packet out, "Spock, Jim could use this nourishment. His metabolism needs the glucose." Spock had his own packet and was sitting across from McCoy. He shook his head firmly. "You need to take it all, Doctor. Your system has also been depleted. He needs you just as badly as the food." McCoy frowned but did as he was instructed. The warmth it provided seemed to spread from his stomach outward. He smiled wanly, "It feels like a glass of good wine." He glanced over at Spock. "What time is it? I seemed to have lost track." "I believe late afternoon." Spock winced suddenly and lifted a hand to his temple. Alarmed by the action and the response, McCoy watched him closely. "You don't know the time?" "Not at present. My time sense seems to be impaired." He dropped his hand. "I thought you said you were all right." McCoy asked anxiously. Spock did not reply, staring instead at his packet of food. The doctor finished the gelatin. "You said you would explain." Spock allowed his head to rest against the wall behind him. "Using mental techniques drains the system of huge amounts of glucose." There was a long pause. McCoy, wondering what this had to do with Spock, felt obligated to fill in the silence. "Yes, because glucose is the main source of energy for the brain. I understand that." "You depleted your resources of glucose and needed an immediate replacement." The eyes slid closed, as if the explanation had taken the last bit of energy from the Vulcan. McCoy mouth fell open. "Spock, what the hell are you talking about? You're the one who collapsed cold while attempting to meld with Jim." Spock opened his eyes, turning to look at Kirk. "Whether you're willing to admit it or not, you used a mild form of a mind touch to ease his pain, sustaining it for several hours, far past your safety factor." He wanted to deny it. Would have given anything to tell Spock he was wrong. McCoy grimaced. It might be the truth, but he did not have to acknowledge it. He studied the drawn features across from him with a clinical eye. "Spock, you look like you've been to hell and back. What happened?" "I now accept the wisdom of your advice, Doctor. I do not have the capability to sustain a deep meld. My attempt to do so hurt Jim and has caused a complete burnout of my neural network. I am . . . affected by it but believe it will be temporary. It leaves me without any ability to help Jim." Exhaustion was strongly evident in the hesitant words. McCoy wanted to ask what exactly Spock meant by 'affected' but felt the Vulcan was pushed beyond his limits. "Spock, it'll be all right. You can't blame yourself." He touched his arm, reinforcing his words and then rose wearily to check on Kirk. He seemed to be deeply asleep. "Doctor," Spock called hoarsely. "You must rest. I will awaken you if needed. While Jim is resting, you must also." "But . . ." "Leonard, you can help him. I cannot. He will need you. Please rest." The ragged whisper tore at McCoy's soul. He knew what it cost Spock to admit this. He nodded, stretching out on the ground. The difference between waking and sleeping became a matter of only a few heartbeats. The sound of someone crying woke him. For a moment, he was disoriented. The fire had been rebuilt, yet was very low. It was dark and there was a damp chill in the air. He could see Spock holding Kirk, speaking softly. At McCoy's approach, Spock stopped speaking and looked up at the doctor with open trust. Trust that he could help Jim? Trust that he would do whatever was necessary? McCoy felt a shiver run through him and convinced himself it was the cool night air. The fire was in imminent danger of going out, and McCoy rebuilt it quickly before examining Kirk. He settled the lightcam where it would not shine in the two men's eyes and began to study the leg. The gross infection was bad. The accompanying swelling stretched the bright red skin to the point of bursting. Kirk's pulse was racing erratically as McCoy expected it would be. The coolness of his extremities added another worry. Jim's circulation was already being compromised. Despite the cold hands, McCoy could feel the burning heat rising from Kirk's body as he pulled the covers back from his chest. The captain moved restlessly, Spock restraining him gently as McCoy attempted to listen to his breathing. No signs of congestion. One small miracle in their favor. But the respirations were uneven, rapid with occasions of stop and go breathing. Sepsis. Full blown. Shock. Difficult to save even if treatment were begun immediately. Kirk cried out but the sound was weak even in McCoy's ears. Then the crying turned to confused pleas. "Help...help Spock. Bones...don't turn away...help him..." McCoy's eyes flew to Spock's face, seeing the haunted eyes, deep lines shadowing his face. "Has he been awake at all?" Spock shook his head. "He becomes quiet when I speak, but he never seems to understand I am here." Kirk had stopped talking but in the silence, his pleading began again. "He is growing weaker." Spock stated, but McCoy heard the question. "Yes." McCoy could not deny his words. "Do you know what time it is?" Spock began to gently rock Kirk again. "Close to midnight." The doctor closed his eyes. Too long. Help would be too long in arriving. "Spock, you said only I could help him." Fear squeezed his heart. "How?" Spock answered in a slow monotone as if he were spiraling down the same deadly path with Kirk. "I referred to your empathic skill yet I spoke rashly. The captain's condition has deteriorated rapidly. You cannot help him now and would be endangered with any attempt." "Come on, Spock. That's not good enough." McCoy spoke harshly, forcibly drawing Spock back. "Explain exactly how I could help." The eyes glittered with renewed light. "Doctor, you have no training. Jim needs someone to sustain him until help arrives. My attempt only succeeds in causing him more pain. I would not presume to think that you could succeed where I cannot." McCoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. If Spock was using reverse psychology on him, it was working. "Just because you can't doesn't mean that I would fail." Spock tightened his arms around Kirk as if to protect him from McCoy. "Your fear is real, McCoy. I feel it. It would overshadow your attempt and send him on toward death and pull you with him." "You're not willing to let me try?" He asked, disbelieving. "Not unless you can conquer your fear." McCoy rose abruptly. "Damn you Spock. Let me help him." He looked down to find a tear shining in the Vulcan's eyes. He turned away, acknowledging the truth to himself. He stumbled over to the cave wall. Sliding down the rough support, he drew his knees up and buried his face in his hand. The moans were dwindling down to a deadly quiet. Kirk's breathing was more labored, and McCoy was able to hear the increased irregularity with heart stopping agony. Being a physician had never meant so little as now. His knowledge was totally useless, only serving to increase his own misery. McCoy felt battered, as exhausted as if he had been in a fight for his own life. Fear. Spock knew his fear. Damn right. He was afraid for Kirk's life. But it was more than that. His fear would overshadow any attempt to help Jim. He wasn't afraid of helping him. But his shoulders slumped as he acknowledge he was afraid of . . .losing his sanity. His hands were trembling as the memory of the rape from so many years ago vividly confronted him. The first night after they had returned from the parallel universe, Kirk had found him in his quarters on the floor, crying like a baby. The captain had held him just as Spock was holding Kirk now. Rocking, soothing. Helping him. He had done enough reading on the subject now to understand that he had actually experienced trauma that left a tearing of his mind. It had taken a long time to recover, and it was possible some of his fear was from some remnants of unhealed trauma. The unreasoning panic that he felt was not completely mental but some physical as well. It did not help. McCoy drew his knees tighter. Whether the fear was mental or physical, it was real, tangible. The room was growing colder as if the air was being drawn from the room with Kirk's spirit. His breathing had changed, no longer labored but gasping with each breath. At times, he would stop breathing entirely for seconds that stretched like days. Then his body would fight to live, his indomitable spirit refusing to give in to this last, greatest enemy. McCoy lowered his head again. It would not be long now. And in losing Kirk, he sensed he was also losing Spock. The Vulcan might not be able to win in life, but he could triumph finally in death. "The key is trust, Leonard." Spock touched his hand, startling McCoy. Kirk lay alone near the dwindling fire, pale and still. "Trust. You must trust both of us with your heart and mind." "I do, Spock." McCoy felt warm tears flood his eyes. "You know I do." Spock nodded, sharing a gentle smile. McCoy felt something unlock in his heart, acknowledging and defeating his fear. It was that simple. He followed Spock back to Kirk's side. Spock's voice was guiding him, telling him to follow his instincts. Find Jim. Must find Jim. The room around him, all physical reality faded. Trust. Awareness returned but in a different way. He was walking but knew that the plane of existence he now inhabited was not "real". Something compelled him to continue, to go forward. Something---no, someone waited for him. The darkness lifted and he began to make out shapes in the distance. Mountains, dark and forbidding. Clouds that massed and moved and fretted with lightning. There were no colors, only black and white and shades of grey. There was something that he must do but he could not remember what it was. Suddenly, fear grasped at him like a living thing. No, more than fear. Stark terror. He had been here before, but the terrain had been more forbidding, threatening. Twisting and tearing his mind. He had to turn back. He could not fight this battle again. Then he saw Jim. Far off, trudging upward toward the mountains. Shoulders hunched against a cold wind that suddenly howled down from the mountains. 'Jim! Wait! Wait for me!' he called but the figure continued on, unknowing or uncaring, it scarcely mattered. Now he knew what he must do. He must overtake Kirk before he reached the mountains. But the fear was stronger there. He could feel it. Tattered whispers that tore at his mind. He would not retreat, but he could not go forward. 'Trust.' The word whispered reassuringly, easing the fear. He took a step forward. Jim was headed into danger. They would have to help each other. The climb was getting treacherous. His feet slipping on the loose rock, McCoy felt a moment of exasperation. 'Jim, does it always have to be climbing rocks with you?' Jim was climbing over a boulder. McCoy's words caused him to pause but only for a precious second. The distance between them increased. He tried running but only succeeded in falling again and again. Each time it was an effort to push back the fear as he tried to move forward. 'Jim!' he cried again, knowing it to be futile. Jim would disappear into the mountain of death and he would see him no more. He sank to his knees, covering his face with his hands. He could not bear to watch his friend die. Yet he could not let him die alone. Struggling to his feet, he fought his way forward again, only to lose his footing and slide further away from Jim. There must be something he could do. He had been sent to help. And he had failed. McCoy lifted a hand in supplication, calling out in defeat to Spock. 'You are wrong, doctor. You have not failed.' The deep voice sounded beside him. When he turned, Spock was there, offering his hand. 'What I could not do alone, we can do together. We can save Jim.' McCoy reached out, grasping Spock's hand, grasping at the hope that he offered as well. At the moment their hands met, Jim was suddenly only a few feet from them, still struggling away toward the mountains. 'Jim! Wait! Don't leave us!' McCoy called. When Kirk turned to face them, a small, sad smile crossed his features. 'I have to, Bones. Don't you see? That's my deepest fear. Not death but life, life without you and Spock. Alone. I know that now.' The plain around them shifted, twisted, and McCoy and Spock were in Kirk's apartment, watching as Sarek melded with him, watching somehow inside the meld as Kirk relived the horror of losing Spock in the reactor room. 'I thought I knew what being alone meant but, like death, I never really knew until that moment. Then, on Mount Selaya, I feared that I would lose you both. I knew that either all of us would leave that mountain alive---or none of us would. After that long, horrible night, I knew as well that I did not want to be the one left behind.' All the risk taking, all the dangerous stunts Kirk had pulled in the last several months, it was just as McCoy had feared. He would not take his own life but if fate intervened, it would solve his horrible dilemma. McCoy remembered telling Spock once that he was not afraid of death, he was more afraid to live. Now, he knew that the Vulcan was not the only one. And he knew that Kirk's deepest fear was one they all shared. They were once more on the plain, the dark, fierce mountains very close now. 'We won't go back without you, Jim,' they said, each reaching out a hand. Still Kirk hesitated. 'I've lost so much Bones, I don't know if I want to risk that kind of pain again.' 'You've fought too hard to live these past hours, Jim. I don't believe you want to die. But it's your choice.' Hazel eyes filled with tears that had long needed to be shed. All the pain, all the loss, all the terror of the last month spilled over. Spock reached out to wipe away the wetness. 'Just as you knew we would all leave Mount Selaya together, we will leave this place together, or not at all.' Kirk smiled, a real, true, well-remembered smile, and took each of their hands in his. 'Let's get the hell out of here.' When McCoy opened eyes he did not remember closing, the room was full of light and rangers. Someone must have finally seen the smoke from their fire. Shouting voices surrounded him and he heard the reports of medical personnel as they place the captain on life support. "He looks pretty bad," one of the men said, pointing to Kirk. "Will he make it?" McCoy's eyes met Spock's and he smiled. The others could not know but this was a beginning, not an ending. Of course he would make it. They all would. Story by Mary R. and Lynn S., 1996 Star Trek is a registered trademark of the Paramount Picture Corporation; no copyright infringement is intended. http://www.sttos.net