A Subtle Bond

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Star Trek; Spock-McCoy)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Kirk and Spock confront McCoy over just what happened between Bones and Spock's counterpart in the Mirror Universe. This is set in the aftermath of the episode Mirror, Mirror. It's a companion piece to Reflective Irony and Mirrored Courage, but it will stand alone.

Special Note: This story came about because some readers were disturbed by McCoy's willing participation in the forced mind meld as described in the companion stories. So I wanted at least one story that put that issue on the table, so to speak...even if it doesn't change matters.

~

Spock sensed the captain coming up behind him in the corridor. He turned and waited for Jim to catch up.

“Hey Spock,” Jim said, placing a hand on the Vulcan’s arm as he reached him. “You ready to gang up on Bones?”

“Yes,” he answered, nodding slightly. He did not, however, look forward to this interrogation.

“Good,” Jim said. “Remember, we’re treading lightly. If—damn it, I wish we knew what happened to him.”

Spock raised one eyebrow. “Is it not our purpose to discover that?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to—well, I don’t want to invade his privacy. On the other hand, I don’t want him suffering in silence, either.”

Spock offered no answer to that. Judging by his observations, Dr. McCoy was not suffering. He did not appear to be in any pain or distress. He was quieter than usual—but he seemed merely preoccupied and, perhaps, somewhat wistful.

However, it was that wistful quality that most concerned Spock. The doctor’s unusually quiet behavior had begun upon his return from the ‘Mirror Universe.’ Surely there had been nothing in that universe to elicit this wistful mood in him?

Jim let his hand drop as they resumed walking. At length they reached the doctor’s cabin. Spock stood back as Jim pressed the call button.

“Bones are you awake? It’s us.”

There was a garbled reply that sounded suspiciously like a string of curses. That was followed by a long pause…but at length the door opened. Bones stared at them from the other side and rolled his eyes.

He wasn’t dressed for bed yet, Spock noted. He had taken off his tunic and his boots, but he was still wearing the basic blacks of his uniform.

“You two are worse than the plagues of Egypt!” Bones informed them. “Every time I turn around, you’re back—can’t I get some breathing space?”

Jim gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Bones. We’re just—we’re just worried about you. You haven’t been your normal, pain-in-the-ass self for a few days now.”

Bones rolled his eyes again, but he gave Jim an answering smile. “Fine, come on in,” he told them. “Have a seat and I’ll try to convince you again that you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

McCoy turned and walked back to his bunk as he spoke. He collapsed down on it and Jim followed suit, landing next to him. Spock took a chair opposite the two men—but his attention was distracted by a bottle of medicine on the table. He narrowed his eyes at it.

“Are you going to fess up to what happened?” Jim was asking.

“I already did,” Bones reminded him. “Look Jim, I’m sorry. I didn’t fight Spock—the other Spock, I mean. That’s why I don’t have anything but these bruises on my wrist. He was…he was too much like our Spock. So I decided to trust him and give him the information he wanted.”

Kirk sighed. “That’s fine, Bones You’re instincts were right—hell, we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we’d taken him into our confidence sooner. But—”

“What the captain is trying to say, Doctor,” Spock cut in, “is that we believe there is more to the story. We do not believe that you had a simple, civilized discussion with my counterpart, during which you imparted the captain’s plans of escape to him.”

Bones stared at Spock for a long moment and then favored him with a crooked grin. It was full of affection—and equally full of teasing. Spock could not help but return a slight smile of his own.

“You’re right, Spock,” Bones confessed. “We didn’t have a ‘civilized discussion.’ We were too busy tearing off each others’ clothes. You know I can’t keep secrets during sex—well, actually you don’t know it, but you would if you’d just take me up on the silent invitations I keep sending you.”

Spock blinked at the doctor. He was at a complete loss for the proper response. Kirk, meanwhile, nearly choked trying to bite back a laugh.

“Bones,” Kirk managed, putting an arm around the doctor’s shoulders, “whatever happened, I’m pretty sure you didn’t have sex with the guy. Not unless—” his eyebrows shot up in alarm.

“Don’t worry. He didn’t rape me, Jim,” Bones said. “And we didn’t have sex. But let me tell you something—if we’d had an extra ten minutes, we would have torn off each others’ clothes.”

Spock raised both eyebrows at that. He sensed that the doctor was neither lying nor exaggerating. That is what would have happened—at least in the doctor’s opinion. And it was unlikely, Spock supposed, that McCoy had completely misinterpreted his counterpart.

Apparently Kirk sensed this too. His eyes had widened at McCoy. “Bones,” he managed, “are you serious?”

Bones nodded. “Yeah. But that’s not why I trusted him, Jim. I trusted him because he’s got the same sense of honor that our Spock has.”

Bones paused again and looked Spock in the eye. “It may be twisted somewhat and buried somewhat, but it’s there,” he insisted. “And so I trusted him the same way I’d have trusted you, Spock.” He paused once more and grinned again. “And I wanted him the same way I want you, Spock,” he added. “The only difference was that he wanted me too.”

He spoke the words in a light, teasing voice—but Spock did not doubt the truth of them. He felt himself swallow. He had sensed the doctor’s desire for him and strong emotional feelings for him…but, until now, the doctor had never spoken them out loud. Until now, Spock had been able to pretend that the doctor’s feelings did not exist.

He would no longer be able to do so. And Spock did not know whether to feel relieved or chagrinned.

Kirk, on the other hand, did not seem in the least surprised by this revelation. Either the captain had noticed the 'silent invitations' McCoy had been sending, or the doctor had taken him into his confidence, or both.

Bones gave Spock a wry smile, noting his discomfort, and turned back to Kirk. “And now that I’ve embarrassed the hell out of our green-blooded pal,” he said, “I’d better get some rest. I’ve got a long day tomorrow, Jim-boy.”

Kirk sent a questioning glance at Spock. Spock, in response, shook his head and then turned his attention back to McCoy.

“I admire your tactics, Doctor,” he said. “And if I had not noticed the bottle of Lexorin on your table, Jim and I would have fallen for your distracting statements and left you in peace.”

“Lexorin?” Jim said sharply. “Isn’t that—isn’t that what you take to recover from a mind-meld?”

“Yes,” Spock confirmed. “And, Doctor, may I remind you that a forced mind-meld is extremely dangerous? My counterpart may have…”

He paused suddenly. He did not want to say the words, he realized. The thought of this other Spock invading McCoy by force did not sit well. He could feel a cold, irrational anger inside him that seemed intent on turning his blood to ice. But anger served only to cloud the mind, he reminded himself. It was illogical to give way to it. So he took a deep breath, dismissing the emotion, and forced himself to complete the sentence.

“My counterpart may have caused you considerable harm,” he said softly. “Even if the injury is not yet apparent to you.”

“What do you recommend?” Kirk asked. He still had his arm around McCoy’s shoulders, Spock noted. But the arm was protective now—not just friendly.

“We should bring the doctor to a Vulcan healer—”

“No,” McCoy said firmly, cutting Spock off.

“Doctor—”

“No,” McCoy repeated. “I trusted your counterpart inside my head, Spock. And I’d trust you. But I’ll be damned if I’ll have any other Vulcans screwing around in there.”

He paused and gave Spock a defiant look. “Besides, it wasn’t forced. I didn’t resist him at all.”

There was a long moment of silence at that. “Did he give you a choice?” Kirk asked at last.

“No,” Bones said. “He was going to meld with me whether I allowed him to or not. It just so happens that I allowed him to.”

Kirk’s face hardened and Spock could see the anger flashing in his eyes—anger that was directed at his counterpart. “Bones—if you didn’t have a choice, then it was forced. That’s...essentially rape.”

“It wasn’t rape,” McCoy insisted. “Stop trying to tell me what happened—and stop getting angry on my behalf.”

With that, the doctor shrugged himself away from Kirk’s arm. Kirk sighed, but accepted the sudden distance between them.

There was a long moment of silence after that. McCoy was the one to break it. “Look,” he said. “He’s a ruthless bastard; I know that. And maybe I’m a damn fool for having trusted him. Except that he did help us.”

He paused, apparently thinking through his words. “I trusted him and I wanted him and I—hell, I practically invited him in. And I’m not going to apologize for that or act like a victim. And I’m not sorry that the whole damn thing happened—and I wouldn’t change any of it…except, of course, to give us that extra ten minutes,” he added with a sour grin.

Kirk managed the ghost of a smile at that.

“Now you two know what went on,” Bones said softly. “Can I get some rest now?”

Spock took a deep breath. “Leonard,” he said in what he knew was an uncharacteristically gentle tone, “Even if you allowed the meld, there is still some danger—there may still be lasting effects. A proper healer will not…will not ‘screw around in there.’ A healer will simply return the natural defenses to your mind that may have given way during the meld.”

McCoy’s blue eyes had stared intently at him during that speech. They softened at the sound of Spock calling him by his first name—something Spock had never done until now—but they remained resolutely opposed to Spock’s suggestion.

“Spock,” Kirk interjected, “Would you be able to tell what kind of damage—if any—your counterpart did to Bones?”

Spock considered that. “Yes,” he said. “If there is damage, however, I am not certain that I could heal it.”

Kirk turned back to McCoy. “Were you serious when you said you’d trust Spock to meld with you?”

“Yes,” McCoy answered, shrugging. “I trusted his counterpart, didn’t I?”

“All right,” Kirk said. “Let him meld with you. If he can’t sense any damage, we’ll leave it be. But if he can, will you please agree to see a Vulcan healer?”

McCoy thought about that for a long moment, but at length he nodded. It was a reluctant nod, Spock noted, but a nod all the same.

Kirk sighed in relief. “Good. Should we—should we go to sickbay?”

“No,” Bones said. “I’d as soon keep this private.”

Spock nodded and stood up from his chair. He stepped over to the bunk and sat on the doctor’s other side. Kirk, meanwhile, placed his hand on McCoy’s shoulder and began to rub it.

Bones accepted Kirk’s touch, but he turned his head toward Spock. “I’m ready when you are,” he said.

Spock nodded at Kirk and then both men shifted so that the doctor could lie down on his bunk. Then Spock placed his fingers on McCoy’s face. He felt the doctor relax as Bones shut his eyes and opened his mind to him.

Spock tread carefully, gently retracing his counterpart’s steps. He felt Bones relax even further as he began to probe the doctor’s thoughts for memories of the previous meld. He did his utmost to respect the doctor’s privacy, but he could not help but form a strong impression of what had occurred between the doctor and his counterpart.

His counterpart had indeed been ruthless. He had sorted through McCoy’s memories—memories that could not possibly have been of use to him. Although, in fairness, it seemed that Bones had bombarded the Vulcan with them. In fact, the doctor seemed to have used the meld as an opportunity to share all the aspects of himself that he had never dared to share with ‘his’ Spock.

And McCoy had treated Spock’s counterpart to the full force of his desire for ‘his’ Spock. And, if Spock read the traces of the meld correctly, his counterpart had not been horrified or disdainful of Leonard’s human wants and emotions. On the contrary, he had found McCoy a courageous, warm and compassionate man—a man worthy of becoming a bond-mate.

Spock swallowed hard at that. His counterpart, it seemed, had far more sense than he did. He had recognized the value of Leonard’s love and desire. He had not wasted his time worrying if his cold logic could possibly be compatible with the doctor’s passion. Nor had he worried about the powerful human emotions that might erupt inside him should he bond with the doctor.

The meld had gone much deeper than his counterpart should have allowed. That was largely due to McCoy’s reaction to the meld and the way he had bombarded the other Spock with his passion and memories—but McCoy had not known the danger of two minds meeting on such an intimate level. The other Spock presumably had. He should have broken the meld sooner.

For the most part, the man had exercised rigid control. He had left McCoy’s natural defenses intact. He had been careful not to harm Bones or distort his memories. But the intimacy between the two men had born fruit: there was a subtle, lingering bond between them. Spock recognized it as the first, tentative stage of a marriage bond.

His counterpart must not have realized that such a bond had formed. He had been pressured both by time and by life-and-death circumstances. And perhaps that was just as well—had he known of the bond, it was unlikely that he would have allowed McCoy to escape. He would have found some way to keep his bond-mate by his side.

Neither Spock nor a Vulcan healer would be able to break the bond. However, since it was not a full-fledged marriage bond, it might grow weak enough to become negligible. Provided that neither man fed the bond, of course—assuming that was even possible across universes.

Spock gently withdrew from the doctor’s mind. Bones opened his eyes and cocked his head at him.

“Am I ok?” he asked.

“Yes,” Spock said. “But there is—there is an after affect.”

“I know,” Bones said. “That’s why I’m taking the Lexorin.”

Spock shook his head. “No, Doctor. I did not mean that. There is a faint, lingering bond between you and my counterpart.”

Kirk stiffened at that. “Is it dangerous?”

“I don’t believe it’s dangerous to Dr. McCoy,” Spock answered. “It might prove inconvenient to my counterpart, however, should he seek another bond-mate.”

Bones sat up at that. “It’s a marriage bond?”

“Only the first stage of one,” Spock corrected. “And, as the two of you did not deliberately forge it, it may fade of its own account, becoming quite negligible. And his death, of course, would break it.”

“Or my death,” Bones said wryly.

Spock nodded.

“What should Bones do about this?” Kirk asked.

“There’s nothing he can do, Captain,” Spock answered. Then he turned back to McCoy. “It’s unlikely, but possible, that you will stumble upon my counterpart’s thoughts and impressions. If that happens, you must distract yourself. Do not risk feeding the bond.”

McCoy cocked his head at him. “He knows, doesn’t he? If he didn’t know before, he must know by now.”

Spock nodded. “I imagine he will be carefully guarding his thoughts from you, Doctor. Nor will he seek out your thoughts. Under the circumstances, he won’t wish to strengthen the bond between you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kirk muttered.

Spock raised his eyebrows at that. “I do not believe either man called upon Christ, Captain, at any point during the bond.”

Kirk grinned. “Maybe not, but I’m calling on him now. Bones—are you ok?”

The doctor shrugged. “So it would seem. Don’t worry; I won’t seek him out. I don’t want to make things worse for him or for me.”

“Good,” Kirk said, patting the doctor’s leg. He paused and looked at Spock. “Are you going to watch over him tonight?”

“Yes,” Spock answered.

Bones frowned at that. “I don’t need a God-damned baby sitter, Jim. Get out and take this green-blooded hobgoblin with you.”

But Kirk was unimpressed. “Spock, you have my permission to tan his hide if he gives you any trouble,” he said as he rose to his feet.

Spock nodded dutifully. “Aye, sir.”

“Very funny, Jim,” Bones said, treating his captain to a glimpse of his middle finger.

Kirk grinned. “Good night, you two. Bones, get some rest. That’s an order.”

And with that, the captain turned and left the room.

Spock turned his attention to McCoy as the door slid shut. “Jim is right—you should get some sleep.”

“You know I’m ok, Spock. I don’t need you to stay.”

“I know,” Spock confirmed. “But the captain will rest easier knowing that you’re not alone. And I believe he wanted to give us an opportunity to speak privately.”

McCoy managed a smile. “Yeah, I know. But I’m not sure what there is to say. Except that I’m sorry to hassle you with all these—all these human emotions of mine. I never intended to fall in love with you.”

Some part of Spock had dreaded this moment. But now that it had arrived, he felt himself accepting the doctor’s declaration with a surprising sense of tranquility. But that, no doubt, was due in part to McCoy.

“Leonard, I have known of your feelings for some time. But you—you seem more at peace with them now.”

He nodded. “I suppose I am. Meeting your counterpart made the difference. It was damn hard on my ego, Spock, wanting you when you didn’t want me. But now that I know that some aspect of you does want me…” he paused and grinned. “Well, now I don’t feel like such a fool.”

“I have never thought you a fool, Doctor. And I am honored by your—by your love for me. And though I—I would not allow myself to ‘fall-in-love,’ I do recognize that you are…” he paused, struggling for the words he wanted. “That you would make an ideal mate, were it not for my determination to master my emotions.”

Bones smiled. “Are you trying to say I’d get in the way of that determination, Spock?”

“Most decidedly, Doctor.”

Bones kept smiling. “Well, I’ve got to give you points. That was a touching and, I think, genuine rendition of the ‘it’s-not-you-it’s-me’ speech. So I suppose I’ll be ok with settling for a friendship now.”

“I am glad,” Spock said. “Your friendship is…invaluable to me.”

The doctor shifted on the bunk. He put an arm around Spock’s back and then rested his head on Spock’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he muttered as he shut his eyes. “I’m not coming on to you.”

“I know,” Spock said, shifting so that his arm was around the doctor’s shoulders and so that he, too, could stretch out his legs on the bunk.

“God, you’re nice and warm. This is just how I always imagined it,” Bones murmured, “Except that I always pictured us having wild sex first.”

“I believe, Doctor, that the earth expression is, ‘one cannot have everything.’”

“Yeah—that’s it,” he agreed. “But this is a pretty good consolation prize. Night, Spock.”

“Good night, Leonard,” Spock said.

He waited until the doctor’s breaths grew deep and even and then he ordered the computer to dim the lights. He pulled Bones a bit closer to him, grateful for the peace that was radiating from the human.

But that peace had come at a price. Spock’s twisted counterpart had left a mark on the doctor. And Bones, likewise, had left a mark on him. Spock swallowed again and pulled McCoy even closer.

He did not like the thought that this ruthless aspect of himself now had a permanent hold over his friend.

~The End~