Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Jim burst into the sickbay, carrying Spock in his arms, it wasn’t the green blood pooling on the floor or the metal rod jutting out of Spock’s stomach, but the unadulterated fear in Jim’s eyes that sent a shiver down Leonard’s spine.

“Put him on the bed!” He ordered Jim, who rushed to comply. “Chapel! I need all the blood we have for this Vulcan and I needed it yesterday!”

Chapel rushed to the storage and disappeared behind the door.

“Bones, it’s bad-”

“Jim. Calm down and hand me that dermal regenerator. Until we’ve got the blood ready let’s patch up these other scrapes.”

Jim handed him the regenerator with a shaking hand. Chapel rushed into the room and quickly began setting up for a transfusion. Leonard focused on the smaller wounds surrounding the metal rod, even knowing that with all the blood the Vulcan had lost, these small cuts made very little difference.

“I’m set up, Doctor. Blood flowing now. Data reports about 40% blood loss. I think we got to him just in time,” Chapel announced.

“Ok. Can you get me a read on his heart? Has it been punctured?”
“Reading…” Chapel reported.

Just as Chapel was raising the device towards Spock’s wound, a shiver ran through his whole body.

“Is he seizing?” Chapel asked, her voice shaken.

Leonard rushed to the head of the bed, reaching to open Spock’s eye. Leonard’s thoughts were racing. If the secondary eyelid was still closed, would the pupil be able to respond normally? Damn Vulcan anatomy! He couldn’t remember. The moment his hand made contact with Spock’s brow, he felt a jolt of electricity up his arm, and heard a horrible scream.

Help help help help help.

“Fuck!” Leonard shouted.

“Bones? What’s wrong? What’s goin-”

Desert sand was blowing from all directions. The wind pushed him forward and back, and then changed directions again and pushed him until he fell to his knees. He choked through a breath, sand filling his mouth as he coughed. Panic seized Leonard for a moment, and a beam of lightning flashed just feet away from him. He scrambled away from it, feeling singed. He buried his head in his arms, shoving his shirt over his mouth to try to breathe.  The sound of whistling wind made him flinch. But below the wind, he could hear something else.

“Fear is only an emotion. Fear is only an emotion.” Spock’s voice.

“Spock?” Leonard shouted.

“Fear is only...Leonard.”

“Spock, where the hell are we? Where are you?”

“Emotions hold no power. Logic. Doctor. Bond. Impossible. No, impossibility is illogical. I am dying. Fear is only an emotion. Doctor. My heart is not wounded. My artery is. Please doctor. Fear is only an emotion. Please.”

“Bones! Bones, snap out of it!”

Arms were shaking him. The sand was gone. Leonard gasped and clutched Spock’s bed. Jim was there, looking panic stricken. Leonard looked down at Spock.

Artery.

“Chapel! Keep that blood going. We have got to get that metal out of him, and we have got to seal him up faster than anything. Jim. Call M’Benga. I’m going to need him.”

Jim sprinted to the wall. Leonard heard him ordering M’Benga to the sickbay, and he quickly turned back to Chapel.

“It’s an artery rupture. His heart is fine. I’m gonna need to close it up the second we pull this out or we’ll lose him.”

“An artery?” Chapel exclaimed. “Doctor, I haven’t finished the readings, how can you be sure-”

“I just know.”

“But where? There is no artery so far left in the torso.”

Leonard paused, suddenly struck. What the hell had he been thinking? His eyes scanned over the metal rod. Chapel was right.

No. Vulcan anatomy. My heart is farther left than yours.

“Vulcan anatomy.” Leonard said.

M’Benga appeared at the door and rushed in. As he rushed to put on gloves, his eyes dragged over the situation.

“I do not like the look of this.”

“I’m planning on removing that rod and then patching him up as quick as possible. It’s punctured his artery and we’re going to need to stop the flow before he hemorrhages any further.”

“How are you planning on taking the rod out?” M’Benga asked. “It’s possible that if we’re not too careful, we may endanger his heart on extraction. It’s too close for my liking.”

Leonard felt a wash of panic and anxiety overcome him. He grimaced, but forced it down. He was a doctor, damn it. And he had a feeling they were running out of time.

“If we leave it in there any longer he won’t stand a chance. We’re going to have to take the risk. Chapel, you’ll assist me with extraction. M’Benga, stand ready with regenerators. You’ll need to locate the arterial wound and patch it. Then Chapel and I will assist with all other repairs.”

M’Benga nodded, reaching for the regenerators. Leonard spared a glance behind him. Jim was still there.

“Jim, get the hell out of here. You don’t need to see this.”

“Bones-”

“Jim! Out! That’s a goddamn order!”

Jim opened his mouth to argue, but he must have seen something in Leonard’s eyes that made him snap it shut. He edged out of the room, his eyes on Spock as he left. Once he was gone, Leonard grasped the rod. He nodded at Chapel, and she grabbed it too.

“On three. One. Two. Three!”

The rod came out with a sickening gush. Leonard jumped out of the way the moment it was out, and M’Benga rushed in, eyes searching for the artery. Leonard felt a wave of fear crackle down his body. He forced his hands to stop shaking. He would see Spock alive!

Nearer the kidney.

“Nearer the kidney!” Leonard shouted.

“Got it!” M’Benga exclaimed, firing the regenerator as he said it. “Patched. It wasn’t totally severed, by some miracle.”

“Any other damage?” Leonard asked, even as he knew the answer.

“No. Missed almost every damn organ. Even went between the ribs.”

Leonard sucked in a relieved breath. “Lucky bastard. Alright, let’s seal him up.”

Three hours later, Leonard sat in his office, staring at the computer terminal. How the hell was he supposed to report any of what just happened? That he had just known that the artery had been severed? He sighed and closed his eyes. The moment he did, there was a knock at his door.

“Bones? It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Of course Jim.”

Jim looked exhausted. He slumped into the chair on the other side of Leonard’s desk.

“M’Benga reported to me. Told me he should pull through fine, but will be off duty for a while.” Jim paused. “You really think he’ll be alright, Bones?”

Leonard nodded. “I really do. That green blooded alien should pull through fine. He’ll be back on the bridge before you can say ‘fascinating.’”

Jim let out a laugh, but it quickly faded. He stared down at Leonard’s desk for almost a full minute before he dragged a hand down his face.

Leonard took pity on him. “I think a drink might do you good. Doctor’s orders.”

Jim managed a small smile.

#

Leonard had just finished pouring a drink, and was about to sit in a plush chair in his quarters, when suddenly he realized that Spock was awake. Beyond that, Spock was in pain. Leonard set down his glass and ran to his closet, tugging off his T-shirt to exchange it with his regulation uniform. As he was pulling it over his head, Nurse Chapel’s voice came through the communicator on his wall.

“Calling Doctor McCoy.”

McCoy reached up to the communicator.

“McCoy here.”

“Spock just woke up, sir. Would you like me to give him something for the pain?”

No. I must meditate.

“Let me come up and look at him first, Chapel. I’m on my way. McCoy out.”

When Leonard made it into the sickbay, he was unsurprised to see Spock laying on the bed, eyebrows dipped in concentration, eyes closed, breathing deep. He could see all this, but he knew that Spock was nowhere near meditation.

“Spock, I think we need to talk.”

Spock’s eyes opened slowly. His mouth thinned, and he nodded slightly. “Yes,” he agreed, “that is paramount.”

“You’re inside my head,” Leonard said, cutting to the chase.

Spock look unimpressed. “An inept description. In my...due to my will to survive, I formed a mental bond with you in order to communicate my wounds.”

“It’s a good thing you did, I don’t think we would have gotten to you in time if you hadn’t. But this ‘bond.’ What is it?”

“It is a bond many Vulcans share between family. I could not have formed this bond with you if we did not share some...camaraderie.”

If we weren’t friends.

Leonard knew that the Vulcan would never say it aloud, but the thought quietly admitted what Spock couldn’t. What Leonard couldn’t. The admission left Leonard without words for a moment.

“Of course, I will dissolve the bond immediately,” Spock supplied, after a moment of silence passed.

“No!” Leonard immediately protested. “The bond saved your life! The medical use for it--if you get hurt again, I could patch you up without even doing a physical examination.”

“Doctor,” Spock began, hesitant, “the bond allows a certain level of...shared connection. We will be privy to each other’s base emotions. If one is in distress, the other will feel it. It is...greatly intimate.”

“Intimate like lovers ?” Leonard exclaimed.

Spock looked greener than usual. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chastised. “I have already informed you it is a familial bond.”

Leonard paused again, sifting through his thoughts. “So, if you can read my mind now, what am I thinking?”

If Spock were human, he would have rolled his eyes.

“I cannot ‘read your mind.’ I know you are feeling curious, but that is all. I can surmise that the curiosity is due to the bond, but I cannot ‘hear’ your thoughts.”

“So what’s so bad about that? I knew when you woke up. That’s useful! Could I send you a thought? Isn’t that what you were doing?”

After a moment, Spock answered. “Yes, with proper training. You could also block me from feeling the bond, with proper training.”

Leonard bounced on his toes. “So, if I were in sickbay and you were on the bridge, I could send a question? Say, I wanted to know what the probability of Lukas reacting to a dose of hyporenium?”

Spock considered the question. “I would need to search your mind for the information I would require.”

“Do it.” Leonard pressed.

“The search would, in a way, allow me to ‘read your mind.’ Thoughts on the surface, information that you posses.”

“Do it,” Leonard repeated.

Spock peered at Leonard for a moment before he closed his eyes.

“Focus on the information you would like to provide me,” he instructed.

Leonard closed his eyes and tried to think of Lukas’ medical record. Briefly, he wondered if sharing his medical record through a mind link was a breach in protocol, but before he could worry about that further, a sweltering heat surrounded him.

As he blinked open his eyes, he saw a desert. The light was so intense, he was forced to shade his eyes with his hand and squint. The sand was red and there wasn’t a plant in sight.

“What the hell is it with you and deserts?” Leonard said, hoping Spock would be able to hear him.

“I suppose that is how my mind presents itself to yours. I am experiencing a pecan farm.”

Leonard whipped around, and sure enough, Spock stood behind him, on the top of a sand dune.

“You mean you can’t see this?” He asked, gesturing around at the desert.

“I could see it if we were to enter a deep meld. Our minds would...mix. Our scenery would most likely combine.”

“We’ve melded before, it was never so…” Leonard gestured around. “Vivid.”

“Those melds were not deep. In fact, they were as shallow as I could manage. They were purposeful. A part of the mission. A deep meld is reserved for...intimate situations.”

Leonard grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Indeed not,” Spock agreed. “Now please, Doctor. If you would like to conduct this experiment, I will require the information about Lukas.”

“Right!” Leonard exclaimed. “How do I show you?”

Spock paused for a moment. He clasped his hands behind his back. “As a psi-null being,” he began, “it is unlikely you will be able to accomplish this task, as it is your first time. However, it often helps to focus on minor details of what you wish to share. Its color, its texture, any emotions attached to it. It also helps to imagine it in a physical form. For instance, it may help to imagine pulling up his record on a PADD and handing it to me.”

“Here you go,” Leonard said, a PADD in his hand, reaching it towards Spock.

Spock looked startled. Leonard thought he could even feel the Vulcan struggling for words. Spock took the PADD and gingerly opened Lukas’ file.

“It…” Spock cleared his throat. “There is a .002% chance the dose of hyporenium will increase Lukas’ eyesight by 5% but a 99.5% he will be allergic to it, since he was allergic to the base compound renon.”

Leonard beamed. “It’s faster than asking the computer!” He exclaimed. He rushed to the PADD and quickly pulled up his own file.

“What am I allergic to?”

Spock squinted at the PADD. “Ragweed,” he said. “Doctor, your ability to send information is highly advanced.”

“Maybe you Vulcans just underestimate us humans.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Maybe,” he relented.

“So, do we have a deal? Let’s keep the bond?”

“Yes. We have a ‘deal.’”

Leonard felt a great wash of curiosity, excitement, and happiness, before he was standing again in the sickbay, two feet from where Spock lay in bed. Behind him, Chapel cleared her throat.

“Does Spock need anything for the pain?” She asked.

Leonard shook his head. “No, thank you nurse. He wants to suffer instead.” As he said this, Leonard felt a tingle of irritation through the bond. He grinned.

“Alright Spock, if you change your mind or need anything-” he paused meaningfully, “you know how to get in touch. I’m headed back to my quarters. Since I am off-shift.”

“Good night, Doctor!” Chapel said as she turned to another patient.

“Good night,” Leonard replied.

Chapter Text

Spock was leaning over his station on the bridge when he felt McCoy concentrating very deeply through the bond. It had been nearly a month since he first created the bond, and besides creating deeper links to ensure the doctor of his medical status, they had made little use of it.

Spock frowned. At least, nothing productive. The doctor had taken to using his irritation as a source of amusement.

Spock had become very used to having the bond in place. It was almost a relief, to have a mental link with someone he interacted with frequently. The bonds he had with his mother and father were too far stretched to be truly fulfilling.

He felt a flash of red hot frustration from McCoy. Then, suddenly, a loud thought.

-so great and all. Can’t send a communication?

Doctor. Spock interrupted his mental tirade. Please refrain from this behavior. I am on the bridge.

Spock? The doctor replied. It worked! I can’t believe it! I know you’re on the bridge. Sickbay is empty. There’s no paperwork. I’m bored to death! What’s going on up there?

Work. Spock replied tersely. We are analyzing a planet. Its gravitational pull does not correlate with its mass.

Huh. You should talk to Lieutenant Ward. She was in sickbay last week. Whole time she was here she complained about being taken away from her work. Gravity was her specialty at the academy. She knows everything.

Spock tried to quell his surprise. He hadn’t thought about consulting with non-bridge personnel. He hadn’t even known Lieutenant Ward studied gravity.

“Captain,” Spock said, standing straight and facing Kirk, where he sat in the command chair.

The edges of Kirk’s lips lifted. “Yes Mr. Spock? Have you had a breakthrough?”

“Unfortunately not,” Spock replied. “However, it has occurred to me that Lieutenant Ward may be of some help in this regard. She specialized in gravity at the academy.”

And she has published two papers about irregular gravity, McCoy supplied.

“Along with publishing papers that are relevant to this research,” Spock reported to Kirk.

The captain looked surprised, but he smiled. “Of course! Thank you for suggesting it, Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Uhura? Could you comm Lieutenant  Ward and have her report to the bridge?”

“Aye aye,” Uhura confirmed.

Guess this bond is useful both ways, Leonard said.

#

Leonard was in the middle of filing reports when suddenly Spock interrupted.

Doctor. I require your assistance.

The suddenness of hearing it caused Leonard to jump a little. He fought for a moment to remember how he had sent his last thoughts. He pictured opening a communicator and talking into it.

What’s up, Spock?

Abruptly, Leonard was bombarded by an image of Uhura, who looked absolutely pissed. Her arms were crossed and she was looking away at a wall.

Oh shit, said Leonard . What the hell did you do?

Let me show you,  Spock replied.

“Good morning Mr. Spock!” Uhura greeted as she entered the Rec room. Spock turned to greet her.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

Uhura walked closer to Spock and began to speak very quietly.

“A few of us have been planning something for…” She paused, before saying meaningfully, “you know.”

Spock looked at Uhura without comprehension.

“We were hoping you would help us get a room reserved and ready without him knowing. I’ve already got Mr. Scott working on decorations. Never seen him so excited for something that’s not an engine. What do you say?”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“Oh, please Mr. Spock,” Uhura said with a smile, “I know it’s against regulation to plan something without the Captain’s approval, but-”

Spock’s expression turned stern. “Lieutenant, I must inform you I cannot participate in anything, any plan, that goes against the captain.”

Uhura crossed her arms. “Is that really how it’s going to be?” She asked, irritated. “You know, Chekov warned me you might be like this, but I stood up for you! It’s not treason, Spock! It’s a party! Let me guess, you weren’t even going to do anything at all, were you?”

The vision ended, and Leonard could feel that Spock was both nervous and horribly confused. Leonard rolled his eyes.

She was asking you to help plan the Captain a birthday party, you green-blooded ass.

Over the bond, the was a moment of complete silence, before a single:

Oh.

Well, you better apologize! Say it slipped your mind. That you injury last month caused a huge workload to back up and you’ve been busy.

Doctor, I have been managing-

Just say it!

“Lieutenant, I must apologize. I admit I that the thought of the captain's birthday has, in fact, not occurred to me. I was unsure as to what you were referring earlier. Due to my injury last month, I have been working longer hours than usual in order to account for my absence.”

Uhura’s arms immediately dropped and she looked at Spock sympathetically. “Oh, Mr. Spock! Of course, how are you healing?”

“Adequately, I am still barred from away missions by the doctor, however.”

Damn right, Leonard snickered. Tell her you would be glad to help. Tell her I’ll help too.

Spock tugged on the hem of his shirt. “I will be of assistance in this plan, of course. I’m sure the doctor would be happy to assist as well.”

“Great!” Uhura beamed. “I’ll make sure to fill you in on all the details. I’ll send a message to your PADD. I’ll send one to the doctor as well. Thank you Spock!”

Spock dipped his head.

Nice! Can’t believe I got you out of that one. It’s a good thing you’ve got that Vulcan charm. Never would have worked for me.

I am gratified for your assistance, Doctor.

Leonard laughed in his office, and fed the computer a data chip. So, what are you getting Jim for a birthday present?

#

Leonard was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, grinning like a loon. It took him nearly a full minute to figure out that his happiness wasn’t his own, and it was instead coming through the bond, from Spock. Leonard was shocked that Spock, the cold-blooded fool, could feel this. It was the strongest bliss--it reminded him of the day his daughter was born.

What the hell are you up to? Leonard asked through the bond.

Leonard felt the bliss dim a little, some confusion, but quickly, amusement and then affection.

I’m playing chess with the captain in his quarters. Did you need my assistance with something? Spock replied.

Leonard blinked. Then he sat up, and put a hand to his forehead. All that--all that joy. And from chess? Leonard examined Spock’s emotions more closely. The happiness had not faded. Neither had the amusement or the affection, but now there was some concern mixed in.

McCoy? Are you well?

Yeah, Leonard replied. Yeah, sorry. Just in bed trying to sleep. Get back to your game. I’m gonna try to catch some z’s.

Rest well, Spock bid, before Leonard felt his attention fully turn toward Jim. The affection flared up, and--shit. Leonard felt his breath catch in his throat. He jumped up and almost sprinted to his computer terminal.

“Computer, search ‘Vulcan bond blocking techniques.”

“Returned: 23 results.”

“Oh, thank god. Start reading them, please.”

#

Spock walked into Leonard’s office and straightened his shirt. “Doctor,” he started, “I noticed you have been blocking the bond recently. May I ask why?”

Leonard gulped and scratched the back of his head. There’s really no good way to say ‘because you’re in love with my best friend and I didn’t need to know all that.’ Instead, Leonard shook his head.

“It’s nothing personal Spock. Sometimes I just like the quiet of my own head. Don’t you?”

Spock stared at the wall. Leonard could feel that he was uncomfortable.

“No,” Spock said. “Vulcans thrive from mental contact with their family and bondmates. Since the bonds I have with my mother and father are relatively inactive, this bond with you is...beneficial.”

“You mean, medically?”

“In a sense,” Spock agreed.

Leonard smiled, and he opened his mouth to say that he was a doctor after all, when Jim came in through the door.

“Bones, I want to--Spock? What are you doing here?”

Leonard felt the adoration flare up as Spock turned to face Jim, and he braced himself to bear it through the whole conversation. There’s no way he could block the bond without cluing Spock in to the fact that, well, he knew. He wasn’t even sure Spock knew.

“Captain. The doctor and I were ‘catching up.’”

Jim’s eyes went between Spock and Leonard for a moment. “You two, just chatting?”

Leonard crossed his arms. “Is that hard to imagine?”

“No, no! Far be it from me to frown on camaraderie between my staff. Anyway, I guess it’s a good thing I got you two in the same place. I need an opinion about beam down.”

“To the planet we are currently orbiting?” Spock asked.

“Yes. We’ve learned about all we can from the scanners. Everyone seems to agree that it’s strange that an M class planet can exist without any trees. We want to know how.”

“No trees?” Leonard repeated.

“Correct doctor,” Spock replied. “The oxygen is created by the shrubs, bushes, and grasses that populate the planet. Nothing higher than four feet grows on the planet.”

“Are there any animals?”

Spock nodded. “Small creatures. About the size of your Earth rodents.”

Leonard nodded and scratched his chin. “If you had asked me a year ago, I would have said ‘what could possibly go wrong?’ But I’m not so foolish now.”

“There will always be danger on our missions,” Spock said. “But as the Earth saying goes, ‘there are no rewards without risk.’”

“And this does seem fairly low risk,” Jim agreed. “We can’t know for sure, of course, but nothing has come up on the scans.” Jim nodded. “Alright, we’ll beam down.”

Spock straightened up and tugged on the hem of his shirt.

“Permission to beam down with the away crew, Captain?”

“Denied!” Leonard yelled before Jim could answer. “It’s only been three months since you were at death’s door! I’m not letting you beam down to some strange planet!”

Spock pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation. Three months ago, it would have been. Instead, Leonard was bombarded by a surge of annoyance he knew wasn’t coming from himself.

You know that I am perfectly healthy, Spock said.

Sure, you’re not bleeding out, but we haven’t finished restocking all the blood we used for your transfusion. What if you need another one? You could die!

I have come in twice every month! There is plenty in supply.

Not enough for a class four hemorrhage!

“Gentlemen?” Jim interrupted. His eyes were flicking between Leonard and Spock as if he was worried for their mental health. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

Spock and Leonard simultaneously sent to one another don’t tell him! Leonard coughed and Spock shook his head. Jim looked puzzled.

“Fine,” Leonard said gruffly, trying to change the subject. “Beam down to the planet. Die there, for all I care.”

You owe me, Leonard sent to Spock. And you’d better not die!

Thank you, doctor, Spock replied. He glanced at Jim, the barest hint of a smile on his lips, and Leonard bit down a gag.

#

Jim was walking leisurely beside Spock as they made their way down the hall. It was customary for them to walk together to the canteen when they could. It was even customary that they walked in silence. But Jim, as usual, noticed that something was different today.

“What is it, Spock?” He asked in a low voice, slowing his pace.

Spock considered for a moment brushing away Jim’s concern. He glanced down at him, thinking. It did not last long.

“I am concerned for the doctor’s emotional well-being,” he told Jim.

“Really?” Jim asked. “Why?”

Spock sucked in a deep breath and reached for the bond that he had with Leonard. As it had been for the past week, it was completely blocked. It was barely even traceable. Leonard’s psi abilities continuously impressed Spock.

“The doctor has been withdrawing from interactions with others. His consumption of alcohol has increased significantly. I have been keeping track of his schedule, and he is often in the sick bay when his schedule dictates that he should be sleeping. He is certainly not getting the correct amount of sleep for a human.”

Jim’s eyes softened. “It’s the anniversary of his divorce,” he said.

Spock frowned. “I would presume that the anniversary of his divorce would make him feel lonely, and upset. Why would he withdraw from the company of his friends in a time where he feels abandoned?”

Jim rested a gentle hand on Spock’s shoulder. They stopped walking. Spock stood in the hallway, waiting for Jim’s response with more anticipation than he had expected.

“Humans are dumb,” Jim said simply. “Sometimes we think it’s easier to feel terrible than to make the effort to feel less terrible.”

“Illogical,” Spock retorted. “And unacceptable. I propose that we interrupt this absurd behavior.”

“How?”

“We must, to use an Earth phrase, ‘force him to hang out.’”

#

By the time they managed to override Leonard’s door so that it would open, he was completely drunk. His room was in shambles, his clothes were a mess, and his eyes were bright red. He was laying face down in his bed, decidedly ignoring the intruders in his room.

“God, Bones,” Jim hissed, taking in the sight.

Spock understood Jim’s pity. In his drunken state, and so close in proximity, Leonard could not maintain his mental barriers. His emotions were seeping through the bond. They were foul sadness and self-pity, aching loneliness, and permeating disgust at himself. Spock clenched his fists at his sides and put up his own barriers.

“Bones…” Jim said, “If I’d known it was this bad-”

“Go the hell away,” Leonard whispered tiredly. “Can’t a man drink himself to death without interruption these days?”

Spock walked towards the bed and sat down on the edge of it, as far away from Leonard as he could manage. The emotions were too overwhelming for physical touch. Jim immediately followed suit and sat down on the other side, closer to Leonard.

“You could use the company, Bones,” Jim asserted.

“Says who? I’ve been alone for years now. And I’ve been fine.” Leonard’s words were slow and slurred.

Jim and Spock exchanged a glance. Spock sighed. He laid a hand on Leonard’s shoulder and dropped his barriers. Immediately, the sickening emotions returned in a rush. Spock fought to detach himself from them.

“You are not alone,” Spock reminded Leonard.

Leonard said nothing.

You have many companions. Jim and I are your friends.

Leonard seemed incapable of communicating with words through the bond, but Spock received a feeling of disbelief, and an image of a human woman with a bright smile and clever eyes. Then, he saw himself and Jim, standing close together in dress uniform, and he felt Leonard’s loneliness deepen.

With a sudden flash, Spock realized that Leonard felt excluded. It was completely nonsensical, because often Jim sought out Leonard instead of Spock for opinions relating to emotions and human behavior. They shared a report Spock could never share with Jim--one of Earthlings, bound by their human natures.

And Spock and Leonard had a bond. He could feel Spock’s friendship for him at any desired moment. It seemed ridiculous that Leonard would feel excluded by either of them.

“Jim and I enjoy your company,” Spock reminded Leonard, out loud for Jim’s benefit.

“C’mon, Bones,” Jim said. “You know that you’re important to us.” Jim added.

Spock felt some pride in how quickly Jim caught on. Sometimes, it felt as if he and Jim shared a bond.

“Three’s a crowd,” Leonard muttered.

Jim scoffed. “I wouldn’t be half the captain--half the man--if I didn’t have both of you by my side.”

“My position would be relatively unaffected by your absence,” Spock said, and Jim shot him a glare. Spock allowed his lips to curl upwards. “But I would miss your presence greatly if you left.”

There was a moment of silence. Spock felt Leonard’s emotions calm.

“You two are awful saps,” he mumbled. “I’m not going anywhere and you know it. Now let me sleep. I’m drunk.”

Chapter Text

Jim was acting as if everything was completely normal, but his smile was not reaching his eyes. Spock wondered if Jim’s false bravado had ever managed to fool anyone. Perhaps, the only way it could deceive someone was if they had never seen his true smile. But Spock had, many times. There was no point in the facade now.

“What is on your mind, captain?” Spock asked as he moved his chess piece to the second level.

Jim tapped his chin as he took in Spock’s move. They often talked about what was on their minds in the quiet evenings they spent in Jim’s quarters. It was good for their command, to know the other’s state of mind.

“You and Bones,” Jim finally answered, moving his queen.

Spock waited for more, but none came. He moved a pawn.

“What about Leonard and I?” He pressed.

“You seem different. Around each other, I mean. Closer.”

“Yes,” Spock agreed. The bond had deepened their relationship significantly. It also helped Spock understand Leonard’s thoughts, so often influenced by his emotions. It was easier to accept his irrational outbursts when he could feel their source.

“What did it?” Jim asked. “I’ve been pulling you two away from each other’s throats for years, and then suddenly you’re the best of friends.”

Spock considered Jim’s words. He knew that their deepened friendship was founded because of the bond. It allowed them to interact almost daily. They were privy to one another’s emotions nearly all the time. It was inevitable that they would become closer. But Jim had no knowledge of the bond. For this first time, Spock wondered why he hadn’t told him.

Spock moved another pawn while he analyzed that thought. Leonard had, once, specifically told him not to tell Jim that they shared a bond. He had agreed with that sentiment at the time. But why?

Leonard, I require you opinion.

Curiosity. Irritation. Fatigue. It better be important, Spock, I’m trying to sleep.

Why do you desire to keep our bond a secret from Jim?

Leonard’s wards slammed up. Spock had to consciously keep himself from flinching at the sudden jolt. It took 3.6 seconds for Leonard to lower his shields again.

He won’t like it, he said. Is he asking you about us?

Yes.

Yeah, he asked me about us yesterday. The kid’s jealous.

“Spock?” Jim asked, his brow furrowed. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Here, he sounded defeated.

That is illogical. Just recently, he was assuring you that we all share a great friendship and that we are equal within it.

Spock felt Leonard slowly pulling up his shields again. This was more gradual, probably for Spock’s benefit. Just before the bond was sealed, Leonard said:

Friendship, maybe. That's not what he's worried about. Good night, kid.

Spock had not felt that Leonard’s actions were illogical since the bond was created. But at his last words, Spock could not help but feel frustrated. Humans could never say anything plainly. With that in mind, Spock looked at Jim.

“Leonard and I still often have our misunderstandings. But we have come to respect each other, I believe, at least for the most part.”

Jim tilted his head. "Well, I suppose I'm glad to hear it."

Spock wondered why Jim would lie.

#

Spock arrived at Jim’s birthday party fifteen minutes late, as Leonard had assured him that it was “fashionable.” Most of the bridge crew had already arrived, along with a few other others who were still in their uniforms. The mess had been cleared of all but a few tables, and decorated with paper streamers and bright flashing lights. The music was uncomfortably loud.

Leonard walked up to Spock, a wide smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

“Spock! Nice to see you walking around in something other than your uniform. But next time I would go for something with a little more color.”

“Black robes are customary on Vulcan,” Spock said.

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Of course they are. So? What did you get Jim? You’ve been refusing to tell me for weeks now.”

“Then it seems illogical to conclude that I would tell you now.”

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough,” Leonard agreed. He gestured to a table that already had a few modestly wrapped gifts on it. “Come on, we will add yours to the pile and then I’ll get you something to drink.”

Spock followed the doctor’s instructions, placing his small gift on the table before joining the bridge crew who were mulling around a table while Leonard went to get the promised drinks. Jim was with them, and Spock could not help the twinge at the corner of his mouth upon seeing him. He allowed it, and greeted everyone at the table.

“You know it was really Spock that made all of this happen, Captain,” Uhura told Jim, smiling. “We wouldn’t have been able to send all those invitations and decorate the mess without you finding out if he hadn’t been there.”

Jim beamed at Spock. “I guess I have a lot to thank you for then, Mr. Spock,” He said.

“The lieutenant is exaggerating my involvement. It’s true that I did often have to direct your attention away from the arrangements on several occasions, it was truly her and Mr. Scott who managed everything.”

“All the same, thank you.”

Leonard appeared with a large plate of many different sized glasses filled with many different colored liquids. He placed them on the table with a flourish, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement. Spock could feel some emotion like mischief through the bond.

“Good man, Leonard!” Scotty exclaimed, leaning over the drinks. “Tell me you’ve brought me-“

“Only the best, Scotty. The best scotch produced on Earth,” Leonard interrupted, smiling proudly.

“Terran? It’s not replicated?” Chekov repeated. “You mean you have-“

“Of course I have vodka, Chekov,” Leonard said, handing it to him.

Chekov took the glass and held it with a gleam in his eye. He nearly bounced in his chair.

Leonard smiled and turned to the remainder of the drinks.

“And for Uhura, a drink of my own creation,” he announced. Then, when she only stared at the glass apprehensively; “Oh go on, it doesn’t bite. Sulu, I didn’t forget about you, I’ve been saving this brandy for us to share. Yes, Scotty, you can have some.”

Leonard gripped the last two drinks. One was in a short, round glass. The liquid inside was glowing faintly with a purple luminescence. The other was in a green cup, with a pink straw sticking out from the top. He handed the first to Jim, saying “this one is another of my creations. Turning another year older sure is always hard on a man, so I wouldn’t want you to remember it, Jim. This will fix you up.”

The table chorused with laughter, and Jim accepted the glass with only some hesitation. Then Leonard turned to Spock, and grinned.

“And here, Spock! A Terran classic.”

Spock accepted the drink and stared into its dark contents, frowning. He knew that alcohol had no effect on him due to his Vulcan blood, but he could still sense some mischief flowing through the bond from Leonard.

Jim stood up, raising his glass. “To the best bridge crew a man could ask for, to the greatest friends a man has ever had, and to another year on this beautiful star ship. Cheers!”

A loud chorus of “Cheers!” Was all said, everyone clinked glasses, and then everyone took a sip from their glass.

Jim’s reaction was almost immediate. His face turned beet red, his eyes blew wide, and he let out a loud and sharp sound as if he had just taken a punch. Spock’s reaction happened only seconds later, his face turning green, and the tips of his ears heating quickly. The whole table burst into raucous laughter, eyes flickering between Spock and Jim, unsure which reaction was the most entertaining.

“Jesus, Bones, what the hell is that?” Jim exclaimed. His teeth were glowing faintly purple now too.

Bones rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “I promise it won’t kill you, I’m a Doctor after all, I took an oath.”

Spock stared at Leonard in disbelief.

“How?” He asked.

Leonard slapped his hands down on the table, leaning my conspiratorially towards Spock, a manic grin plastered across his face.

“What, the chocolate milk doesn’t sit well with you? Drink up Spock! It’ll put some hair on your chest!”

You think I wasn’t going to research more into Vulcan biology? Leonard sent through the bond. His pleasure at having tricked Spock flowed through it with his words. Spock could almost feel the emotion in his fingertips, it was so strong.

I found some interesting new authors who not only have written about Vulcan bonds, but also Vulcan physiology.

“You gave him chocolate milk?” Sulu asked.

Spock’s face flushed a slightly deeper green. “Chocolate has the same effect on Vulcans that alcohol does on Terrans,” he admitted.

“No way!” Scotty exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to find a way to get our straight-laced first officer to loosen up for years, and all I had to do was send him a Valentine?” Scotty laughed.

“We’ll drink up boys,” Uhura intoned, eyeing Jim and Spock. “It’s bad luck if you don’t finish your first drink of the night.”

#

Spock was feeling slightly dizzy. He wasn’t quite sure if it was his own dizziness, or the waves that he would occasionally feel through the bond from Leonard. Leonard was on his eighth drink of the evening, and Spock was hoping he would cease soon, disliking the multiplicative effect of the bond.

Jim swayed next to him, despite having drank only the first drink Leonard had made for him. He was smiling and unwrapping gifts, his teeth ridiculously glowing a little purple from the remains of the luminescent alcohol. He kept up a string of commentary as he unwrapped the crews modest gifts. “This is a lovely shirt, of course I’ll wear it to the next party," and  "how thoughtful, I love this book, and paper, too!”

Finally it came time to unwrap Spock’s gift, and Jim beamed at Spock even before he removed the plain blue paper concealing what was inside.

Jim tore into the paper a tad more enthusiastically than he had for the other gifts, revealing a paper book, printed specially.

“No way,” Jim gasped. “They don’t make paper copies of this! Spock, how did you get your hands on a printed copy of Michael Burnham’s biography?”

Spock wordlessly took the book from Jim’s hands and opened the front cover, revealing Michael’s signature and a small note.

“It’s signed! ” Jim exclaimed. He held his hands up to hush the crowd around them who had grown excitedly loud.

“Okay everyone! Listen! Here’s what it says: To Jim Kirk, A great captain and a good man, I hope that you will find some enjoyment in reading this, and that you will feel as if you know me at least as much as I feel I know you. Hopefully we can meet and I can convince you to write your own book. Live long and prosper, and take care of my little brother.”

The crowd went silent, and even the incessant beat of the music seemed to fall away. Jim stared at the inscription in his hands. He re-read the text silently, and then turned to Spock with his mouth hanging open.

“ Michael Burnham is your sister?”

“Yes,” Spock replied. “Adopted, of course.”

“I can’t believe it,” Jim said, then suddenly, he blushed. “I suppose bravery runs in the family.”

Spock allowed his eyebrow to inch up, and he clasped his hands behind his back. "I suppose I will take that as a compliment."

Leonard brushed forward, waving dismissively. “Alright, well, my gift might not be a signed paper copy of a famous Starfleet hero’s biography, but it is more alcohol, so open it up, Jim!”

Jim laughed and set the book down, giving Spock one last glowing smile.

#

Leonard didn’t mean to snoop, and he certainly would have simply kept walking past the almost empty mess, but he had left his good brandy at the party and he certainly wanted it back if there was any left. The thing that made him pause before the doorway was Jim’s quiet voice, and Spock’s rumbling replies.

“You tell her about me?” Jim was asking.

“She insists on a report about you every time we communicate,” Spock replied. “I believe she and my mother enjoy ‘gossiping’ about you.”

Leonard groaned. First, he has to feel Spock’s every emotion for Jim through the bond, and now he has to sit and listen to them flirt? He made to interrupt their conversation, when he heard Jim’s tone suddenly change and he stopped in his tracks.

“Spock, I…” Jim's voice was quiet and cautious.

Leonard felt a powerful thrill through the bond, so electric and wild that it knocked his breath from his lungs. He peeked around the doorway to see Jim holding Spock’s hand in both of his. Leonard felt a wave of nausea rise up in his stomach, knowing it had nothing to do with the alcohol he had consumed and everything to do with the fact that he’d read enough books on Vulcan physiology to know what he was watching.

“Jim,” Spock breathed, and Leonard could not help the wave of embarrassment that flooded through him.

Spock’s head snapped up and he looked to the door. Leonard ducked behind it, but it was too late. He knew Spock had seen him. Felt it, through the bond.

Doctor, what are you doing? Spock asked.

Leonard edged around the doorframe. He watched Jim slowly drop Spock’s hand.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Leonard greeted. “Just hoping to get my brandy and I’ll be on my way.”

“Bones?” Jim asked, dumbly.

Spock looked stiff and irritated, and he made no attempt to hide it from Leonard through the bond. Instead, he even seemed to be making sure that Leonard felt it. He marched to the table and produced Leonard’s brandy.

Was this really necessary? Spock asked through the bond. I simply could have retrieved it for you.

Look, Leonard began. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Trust me, I’m trying to stay away from that whole thing you and Jim have.

Thing, Doctor? Spock questioned.

“Did you need anything else, Bones?” Jim asked, looking between Spock and Leonard with a confused pout.

Leonard gave Spock a meaningful look. Don’t pretend like there’s nothing between you two. I’m in your head, for chrissake. Just, finish your talk. Do me a favor and end all the tension.

“No, I’m all set. Good night!” Bones said aloud, waving goodbye. He slammed his shields up as soon as he could, and went straight to bed.

#

Jim got the hint, loud and clear. The next morning he rose from his bed, put on his uniform, and went up to the bridge. He did not linger in the hall and hope Spock walked with him. He did not swing by the mess to get a coffee--he did not want to be reminded that he couldn’t have what he wanted.

When he arrived on the bridge most of his staff looked a little worse for wear. Bags under their eyes, eyes squinted against the bright lights, read-outs coming in just a little slower than usual. Jim took some comfort, at least, in knowing that his staff looked how he felt.

“Good morning, Captain,” Spock said, turning away from his science station. Jim almost howled in frustration. Spock didn’t look one bit exhausted or rumpled. His hair was immovable as ever, his eyes bright with their usual curious gleam. Even his lips were tilted in one of his subtle nearly-there smiles. Jim closed his eyes and reminded himself that Spock’s hair was not his to make messy, his eyes not his to stare into, and worst, that Spock’s lips were not Jim’s to kiss.

“Yes, good morning, Commander,” Jim gritted, and he couldn’t help how cold it sounded. Even Sulu turned in his chair to stare at him.

Spock looked somewhat shocked by Jim’s mood, but he said nothing of it. He turned back to his workstation, and the Alpha shift proceeded to be the longest, dullest, most painful shift Jim had ever had to work.

#

Spock had been ready. He had thought Jim was ready. These feelings they had for one another should finally be acknowledged. On Vulcan, had the two of them demonstrated their compatibility as many times as they had on the Enterprise, they would be foolish not to bond as soon as possible. Spock had waited, because he understood humans needed time before they chose to bond. Spock had done his research. Humans “flirted” in order to show their interest, which Spock had certainly done. Humans “dated,” an act in which they frequently spent time alone together involved in activities and eating. Spock had accomplished this also, as he had invited Jim on many dates of chess in his quarters and private lunches in the mess.

Finally, humans gave one another gifts of appreciation for their loved ones, gifts with meaning. Spock had completed that duty last night at Jim’s birthday party. He had assumed it was the perfect moment to act--to ask Jim to bond.

And now Jim was standing next to him in the turbolift, staring straight ahead at the doors and not saying a word as he had almost the entire shift.

“Jim,” Spock said cautiously, and Jim flinched. “Are you...well?”

Jim closed his eyes and shifted his eyes to his feet. “I’m fine, Spock.”

“Then, would you like to join me for chess in my quarters?”

Jim sighed. He bit his lip. Then, suddenly, he straightened. His smile was so sudden, blinding, and staged. His eyes looked distant and melancholy, but his voice was strong and enthusiastic.

“Of course,” Jim enthused. “We’re friends, after all.”

Spock understood what Jim meant. They were friends. And that is all the could be. They had reached the final stage in the human courting process. Jim was rejecting his advances in the most subtle and kind way he could.

“Yes, Jim,” Spock whispered, and he convinced himself that it was enough. “Friends.”

Chapter Text

Jim never liked diplomacy missions, but this mission was particularly painful. The native species of the planet, the Muscidae, closely resembled Terran house flies. They had the same purple, hexagonal eyes. Their bodies were covered in thick but scattered hairs and they even had vestigial, small wings growing from their shoulders. Unlike house flies, however, they were five feet tall, bipedal, and warp-capable.

As a species, the Muscidae were extraordinarily polite and peaceful. A diplomats dream. They had never had a civil war, political unrest, or even a derisive election in their whole planetary history. They claimed they had only one war with a neighboring planet and that had been entirely defensive and very short.

It was completely reasonable to believe that this cooperative, peaceful, and extremely agreeable species would be an open-and-shut case in terms of diplomacy. But, naturally, their plans hit a snag.

The Muscidae, as agreeable as they were, had absolutely no word in their language for “no.” They never spoke in any negations. When anyone from the federation attempted to use a negation, it simply could not be translated, even with the help of the universal translator. The Muscidae were everlastingly patient, however, in waiting until Jim could think of a way to say “no,” without actually using that word.

“The federation believes all species have a right to life,” Jim explained. “Even criminals. That is why we have a rule that says all criminals must remain alive. We will house them in prison forever for the harshest sentences. But they will be alive.”

Jim’s brows creased. Explaining a “no death penalty” policy was more difficult than he imagined without the word no. Luckily, the Muscidae he was speaking to seemed to understand. Her antennae flickered in a pattern that Jim had quickly realized was their version of nodding.

“Yes, the Muscidae have always had this policy for our criminals. Although, there are only a few criminals among us.”

Beside Jim, Spock nodded sagely. “Your capabilities for cooperation is most admirable,” Spock said.

“Thank you, Commander,” the Muscidae replied graciously. “For generations we have lived in harmony as a hive. Everyone has a duty and is happy to perform it. What is best for the hive is what is best for the Muscidae.”

Spock tilted his head. “I believe the humans have a similar idiom. ‘One for all.’ Although it is usually accompanied by the phrase ‘And all for one.’”

The Muscidae’s antennae fluttered, and she made a strange buzzing sound by flapping her wings. “The phrase ‘all for one’ would be considered quite humorous here,” she explained. “But it gives me pleasure that we share even half of the same sentiment.”

Spock inclined his head. “There are many qualities in humans which are...positive,” he agreed.

“Is that so?” Jim asked, grinning.

“Certainly. Your species, despite its illogic, has a keen grasp of loyalty, bravery, and perseverance.”

“And the heat that you produce is most exquisite,” the Muscidae added. “It is very welcome to have such a warm species visiting with us. We as a people have always been cold-blooded.”

“The Muscidae prize warm-bloodedness?” Jim asked.

“Yes of course. Heaters and clothing do perfectly well for us. It is...your species has a gift to be able to gain heat from within oneself. Such animals that live on this planet are treated with the utmost respect. Our ancient ancestors once worshipped them as gods.”

“Well you would simply adore Vulcan, then,” Jim said. “Their planet is a desert planet. It is extremely hot there. And the Vulcans themselves produce more body heat than humans do.”

The Muscidae looked very interested. “How much more?” She asked. She held out a tentative arm, motioning to Spock’s shoulder. “May I?” She asked.

Jim was about to butt in--explain that Vulcans did not particularly like to be touched, but before he could think of a way to say it without using the word no, Spock was already offering his arm.

“Certainly,” Spock said. “I must warn you. Vulcans are touch-telepaths. May I drop my shields, and access some very small portions of your thoughts?”

“Of course!” The Muscidae agreed. “Delightful! We know humans communicate only through speech and body movements. Meeting another species who can communicate through the mind is very exciting. All Muscidae share some parts of their minds with all others.”

Spock’s eyes were dancing, if a Vulcan’s eyes could dance. “A hive mind,” he said.

“Yes!” The Muscidae replied with enthusiasm. “Precisely. Please, Commander, I am interested to see what you have to share.”

Spock laid a hand on the Muscidae’s arm, and the whole mission went to shit. Immediately, every Muscidae in the entire banquet hall ceased talking and stood perfectly still. Federation representatives looked around at one another, baffled. And then, suddenly, the Muscidae returned to business as usual with their polite apologies for their distraction.

Spock removed his hand from the Muscidae’s arm, but she grabbed it back. Her fragile arms hid her immense strength. Like many Terran insects, she was capable of moving many times her own weight.

“Commander you must come with me,” she said.

Jim could see the wheels turning in Spock’s head, trying to find a way to say no.

“Commander Spock must remain with the Enterprise crew,” Jim said.

The Muscidae seemed confused. “The hive needs the Commander,” she said.

“For what?” Jim asked.

“He is one of us. He belongs with us. His knowledge, mind, and his heat should be used for the hive.”

“He’s not one of you,” Jim said in desperation, but as usual, it did not translate.

“I am part of the federation. I belong on the Enterprise,” Spock tried. There was real fear in his face, and Jim decided that Spock must have seen something in the Muscidae’s mind that Jim did not know about.

“You are coming with us,” the Muscidae intoned, and began to pull Spock away.

“Stop!” Jim said. “Taking him with you is considered a hostile act,” he yelled.

The Muscidae ignored him. Spock tugged against her iron grip, but even his Vulcan strength was useless against her. Two more Muscidae came from the crowd to block Jim’s path. Spock was dragged into a tunnel, and disappeared.

“Spock will stay with us,” the Muscidae said in unison.

Jim wished desperately that he had taken his phaser down to the planet, despite the supposed peaceful nature of the inhabitants. Other crew members had begun to notice the commotion, and they too started forward to reach the Commander, but they were stopped by a coordinated effort from the Muscidae.

Jim’s mind was running a mile a minute--they had still left Spock unharmed. Should he go the diplomatic route, and try to get him back and call the whole ordeal a misunderstanding? Or should he act as if this were a hostage situation, attempt a rescue mission, beam down a team with the necessary weapons?

As he was reaching for his communicator, ready to execute those very orders, Bones appeared next to him along with a security team, armed and standing ready. Breathing heavy from running.

“Spock’s in trouble,” Bones said, with an awful aura of seriousness. He tossed Jim a phaser, which he easily caught.

Jim took a moment to be completely confused, before he turned to the rest of the crew members, and opened his communicator. “Scotty, beam everyone back to the ship, on the double. We’re taking the security team into a hostile situation. Go to yellow alert.”

“Captain, we can’t, there’s some sort of interference running through the whole building. You need to get everyone outside for beam up. That's how we got the Doctor down there.”

Jim looked around. The Muscidae seemed completely disinterested in everyone except the security team. They were not hostile, yet, and seemed only willing to block Jim’s path.

“All of you! Out of the building for beam up!” He yelled.

The crew members quickly obeyed, and Jim was relieved to see that the Muscidae made no move to stop them.

“Jim, let’s get moving. They’re taking Spock to the Queen. It’s...not great, what they intend to do to him,” Bones said.

Jim palmed his phaser. “I’m going to ask how you know all this later,” he stage whispered to Bones. “Alright, phasers on stun. We are treating this like a hostage situation. Disable any enemy you have to.”

The team moved forward as one, Bones on point. The Muscidae possessed no weapons other than their obscene strength, and made only to stand in the way until they were disabled. The security team made quick work of their assailants, before Bones led them into a hexagonal tunnel. They made several turns and went up several levels. Jim became completely lost, focusing more on dispatching the enemy than how many lefts they had made. He was utterly thankful for Bones’ apparent instinct for direction, and he decided to accept it as a fact now, and question him about it later when Spock was safely back on board the Enterprise.

All was going extraordinarily well until Bones collapsed, gasping in pain. “Get out of our goddamn heads!” He yelled.

Jim quickly pulled him aside, leaning him against the sloping hexagonal wall behind a small pillar. The security team continued firing, it seemed that the Muscidae were more concentrated and more hostile the higher they went up in the structure. These ones suddenly had weapons, and were not afraid to use them. They were more primitive than phasers, but still capable of injury. The whole team shot from the cover behind the columns supporting the walls.

“Bones, what’s going on?” Jim demanded.

“Ah,” Bones grunted. “They’ve, god Jim, they’ve forced some kind of meld on him. There’s about half a million minds yelling all at once. They’re trying to make him the Queen’s...god, I don’t know. Pet? Consort? Husband? It doesn’t translate.”

Jim felt sick to his stomach. “You mean, they’re trying to make him...reproduce with her?”

“I think so,” Bones gritted. “Or maybe just be a nanny, or something pretty to look at. I wouldn’t be able to say. But they’re trying to force him into it. Basically trying to make him go crazy. With half a million minds, they might do it.”

“Can you get up?” Jim asked.

“Yes. Shit, I wish they’d stop screaming. We’ve got to go, now.”

The security team pushed their way further into the tunnel. The Muscidae called the retreat, blown back by their phasers. The team arrived at the end of the hallway and all together worked to push open the large purple doors, bursting into what Jim could only describe as a throne room.

In the center was a Muscidae, wingless, enormous, towering. She was perhaps twice the size of any other Muscidae, and she sat on a gigantic throne. It was bright yellow, resembling melting gold, or maybe honey, and it had two large metal rods jutting from its back like antennae.  At the foot of her throne was Spock, cradling his ears as if to block out some loud noise, curled in on himself, and unmoving.

“Scotty, can you lock on to Spock’s life sign, beam him up?” Jim whispered into his communicator.

“No sir, the interference is still blocking the whole building. The others are with us though. They all made it out fine.”

Jim blew out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. The Queen turned to them, looking down at them from her towering height. “You dare attack the hive,” she said.

“You took Spock from us! We demand he be released!” Jim protested.

“Spock has precious heat. Precious mind. He must remain with us and serve the hive.”

“Spock should be free!” Jim argued.

Bones caught his arm. He looked awful. He was sweating now, his brow creased in pain. “It’s no use, Jim. Privacy, personal freedom, individuality. They just don’t get it. That doesn’t exist here.”

“Spock will remain here, you will leave,” the Queen commanded. “You will be forgiven for your violence if you return to your ship and promise to leave.”

“You are hurting him!” Jim exclaimed.

Spock quivered on the ground, still clutching at his ears. Leonard stepped forward.

“You will obey!” The Queen demanded. From behind her massive throne, several Muscidae emerged, holding weapons.

“Fuck you, you oversized bug,” Leonard spat, and shot the Queen directly in one purple eye. She roared, tumbling off the throne. The security team quickly sprang into action, rolling to cover and firing at the Muscidae guards.

Jim quickly rolled behind cover as well, but his eyes darted around the room, searching. Interference. If there was something running interference with their transporter, it could likely be in this room.

“Scotty,” he whispered into his communicator. “Can you find out what’s causing the interference?”

“We already know it’s near the center of the structure. It’s some kind of transmitter. We’re trying to counteract it from here.”

“Good. I’ll try to find a way to disable it from the ground.”

Jim peered around his cover, firing at a few Muscidae when he could. The Muscidae has abandoned all cover themselves, and we simply rushing the security team in a rage. No matter how many fell, stunned, still more came.

Bones was pulling Spock away from the chair to cever, and Spock seemed to cling to him like he was as essential as breathing. Jim watched Spock’s hand reach for Bones’ meld points. He felt a sick jealousy spring within him at the sight, but pushed it down. Now was not the time, or the place. He shot at more Muscidae and rolled to cover closer to Spock and Bones. He spared them a glance. Spock seemed to be unconscious now. Bones had him cradled in his lap, his hands over Spock’s temples. Bones looked up, and caught Jim’s eye. He motioned Jim closer.

Jim slowly picked his way over, firing at any Muscidae that got too close to himself or to Spock and Bones. They went down easily and without a fight, but they seemed to keep streaming in with endless numbers.

He finally reached Bones, kneeling beside him with his phaser pointed at the enemy, still firing.

“Those antennae on the throne are what’s causing the interference for the transporter beam,” Bones said. “The only way to stop it is to break them off. But they’re completely electrically charged.”

Jim nodded. “And Spock?”

“Not good, Captain. We’ve got to get him on the ship. I’ll hold him together as long as I can.”

Jim nodded and made a break for the throne. Going away from Spock was easier than moving towards him, the Muscidae did not even fire at him, seemingly entirely focused on Spock.

Jim scaled the throne as quickly as he could, but the metal was extraordinarily slippery and it took some time. By the time he reached the top, when he looked back, the Muscidae had moved in on Spock. The security team was dwindling in numbers, now fighting just to protect themselves. Bones was gripping Spock as tightly as he could, but the Muscidae seemed unperturbed at the prospect of simply dragging him along too.

Jim turned to the antennae, and froze in place. Staring at him with one good eye and one that was smoking was the Queen herself.

“Spock will serve the hive!” She roared. “His mind is ours!”

Jim looked at both the antennae on either side of him. Even above the din of phaser fire, he could hear them crackling with electricity. The queen raised her thin, hairy fist to strike him.

Jim grabbed both of the antennae.

The Queen’s arm hit him square in the chest, knocking him off the throne.

The antennae came with him, breaking off as he fell.

Jim’s vision blacked out.

#

Jim awoke in sick bay with a horrible case of cottonmouth. His chest felt like the whole of the Enterprise was resting its weight on him. His vision was still blurry. He already could see blackness at the edges.

He turned his head. Spock was in the bed next to him. He was awake and breathing. Bones was there as well. Spock had his hand on Bones’ meld points. They both had their eyes closed, their foreheads touching one another.

Jim felt all at once joy that Spock was alive. Even doing well. Accompanying that joy was crushing heartbreak. The weight on his chest now seemed impossibly heavier. He closed his eyes and let the blackness take him.

Chapter Text

Jim woke up. He knew he had been fading in and out of consciousness for a while, but he had no idea how much time had actually passed. He sat up and glanced around sick bay. All the beds were empty, and the lights had been dimmed. It must be a night shift. Jim swung his legs over the bed and stood up, walking towards the light shining from Bones’ office.

“Jim!” Bones said, jumping to his feet when he saw him leaning against the doorframe. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!”

“I feel...fine, Bones,” Jim assured.

“I’m sure you do, we put you under for almost a full week. I just gave you a boost of pain meds too. I doubt you feel anything right now.”

“No, really. I feel normal.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it Jim,” Bones said, rolling his eyes. “Now let’s get you back in bed.”

Bones guided Jim back into the biobed and laid him down. He pulled up a spare chair to sit by his bedside.

“I’m glad you’re finally awake and talking,” Bones said.

“I’ve been out a long time?”

“Three days you were out on your own. We had to restart your heart, Jim. You were dead. After that we put you under medicinally for about a week.”

Jim pursed his lips. “Spock?”

Bones laughed. “God, you two are predictable. He’s fine. Up on the bridge now. Been worried sick about you though. Trust me when I tell you I had to bargain hard to get him out of my way.”

Jim frowned, cocked his head. Said nothing.

“Oh, not that look,” Bones complained. “I know that look, kid. Go on and say what you want to say.”

Jim chewed the inside of his cheek, waiting. The pain medication might have been making his head a little more fuzzy than he really thought. “Bones, it’s none of my business.”

“Well it is mine,” Bones argued. “Whatever you think you see between me and Spock? You’ve got the wrong idea. I’ve tried to give you your space, thinking it was none of my business either, but I’m quickly learning that it most certainly is.”

“What are you saying?” Jim asked. “Bones, if this is about regulations…”

“Dammit Jim! You self-sacrificing pain-in-the-ass. I have not, nor will I ever be, romantically involved with Spock.”

Jim’s eyes flew wide. “C’mon, Bones. I know I was out of it...but I saw...well, I saw you melding!”

Bones’ face flushed. “It was medical.”

“...medical.”

“Yes. Damn that cowardly green-blooded ass, I should not be the one telling you this!”

Bones stood up and closed his eyes. Jim watched as his expression grew more and more irritated, a vein pulsing at his temple. Bones stood there for nearly a full minute, muttering to himself and looking like he was ready to punch the wall, and then he suddenly looked up at Jim.

“You owe me,” he gritted out. “Spock’s on his way down. I’ll be in my office.”

#

Spock stood in the hallway, carefully building walls to block his bond with Leonard. Not only was Leonard sending him waves of extreme irritation and impatience, but he was also laughing at him.

Spock blocked him out entirely with one final mental barrier, and marched defiantly into sick bay. Leonard had made it very clear that Spock would have no rest until he spoke to Jim about the whole will-we-won’t-we thing you two have going on. You’re both driving me mad! And tell him about our bond, for god’s sake. If he accuses me of having a crush on you one more time I’ll put you in sick bay for a month myself!

Spock had his head raised, his jaw clenched tight and his hands open at his sides as he made his way to the biobeds. But the moment he laid eyes on Jim, he felt as if he were paralyzed where he stood.

Jim had his eyes closed, but he was clearly awake where he laid in the biobed. He was beautiful. He was alive.

“Jim,” Spock breathed.

Jim’s eyes flew open. “Spock.”

“It is pleasing that you have recovered from the coma,” Spock said, sitting in the chair at Jim’s bedside and doing everything in his power to resist taking his hand and assuring himself, illogically, that Jim was alive.

“It’s pleasing to me too,” Jim said. “Listen, Spock…”

Spock waited as Jim seemed to struggle for words.

“I might have had the wrong idea about you and Bones. And I...well...I…”

“Leonard has given me instructions to explain the parameters of the bond he share,” Spock said.

Jim seemed to deflate. “So you do have a bond.”

“Yes, it is similar to the bond I share with my mother and father. It is considered a familial bond. It was established on accident, when my body instinctively sought out help. It allowed me to communicate with him despite being unconscious. It saved my life. Afterwards, we kept the bond in case such a situation should occur again.”

“So when you were melding…”

Spock looked very serious. “The bond saved me once again. The Muscidae’s psionic attack caused so much disorder within my mind that it was quite possible I could have died without treatment. It was only the Doctor’s familiarity with my mind, developed over the many months we have shared this bond, that allowed him to heal me.”

Now it was Jim who reached for Spock’s hand. The moment their skin met, Spock felt a shock run down his spine.

“Spock, I may be the stupidest man in the universe.”

“Illogical, Jim-”

“Spock, just listen. I understand where I went wrong. The party, my birthday party, I understand now what you were trying to say.”

Spock looked away. “Your sympathies are not necessary-”

“YOU MORONS!” Bones shouted. He was standing in the doorway, both his hands braced on the doorframe. Jim and Spock stared at him with shocked expression. Leonard’s entire face was red.

“For God’s sake, JUST KISS ALREADY!” Leonard shouted.

Jim looked at Spock. Spock looked down at Jim. They followed the doctor’s orders.