((NOT a part of the Elements-series! This idea struck me after writing Contractions, but the two are not related. It's all but a one-shot, all of it was written today. No, I didn't do much else. I'll proofread, but we all know such a short time after writing I'm doomed to overlook stuff. Good thing is, now this is done I can actually get started on Water!

This, too, is a Spones fic, starting after Mirror, Mirror and moving on until after the five year mission. It will jump between the universes, showing the development of their relationship on either side. Usually, I use italics for telepathy, but here I will use them for the distinction and mark telepathic exchanges with /, which seems to be what a lot of others do.

So, normal font face is our universe, whereas italics are used for the Mirror Universe.

There are a few warnings: One is obvious: Slash. Others are violence, sexual assault both real and willed to believe, and a bit of general unpleasantness at the beginning.

The last is a general hint that this is not an entirely happy story. If you've read some of my fiction you know I never ever write stuff that is depressing for the hell of it, and I won't start here, but most of this will be dark.))

Leonard had all but fled the transporter room once they were back home. He felt tainted and had to fight the urge to scratch his own eyes out. That wasn't a healthy impulse, and he knew he had to do something about it. He wasn't a man who ran away from painful truths.

One thing was the sickbay of his counterpart. The thought that there was some part of him that was capable of torture made him physically sick. He barely made it to the bathroom in time, fell to his knees, and lost all the food he had eaten in the none too distant past. When he got back to his feet, his vision darkened for a moment and he had to lean against the wall if he didn't want to fall. 'Damn it. Disgusting fucking bastard.' He stumbled to the sink and washed out his mouth, trying to get rid of the foul taste. The chime at his door made him jump. 'Go to hell!' No answer came, and Leonard assumed that whoever it was had been frightened enough to leave. When he got back into his room, he found that he was wrong. Spock had entered, his expression … yes, he was certain … concerned. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he knew that he hadn't been sick because of his own mirror image.

His vision swam, the man before him suddenly had a beard, held his wrist almost hard enough to break it, and forced himself into his mind with a brutality he hadn't known was possible. He had fought. He had fought with all his faculties, and the other mind had hurled images at him to break him. Images of him being beaten and kicked by this horror version of the gentle Vulcan until he had no strength to struggle. Images of that … that monster ripping his clothes away, slamming him onto a desk and raping him, hard, brutally. He had felt both sphincters tear, had felt blood running down his thighs, had screamed even though he had tried not to … and had yielded, given the information the other had sought. 'Doctor.' Leonard jerked out of his nightmare and realised he had backed away, grabbing a chair he held before him like a wall at some point. But this wasn't the farce of his friend that had attacked him. This was Spock, the real Spock, who refused to hurt anything and only killed when he was forced to. He let the piece of furniture fall and shook his head.

'Please go … I'm … I'm not feeling very well.'

'That is obvious.' The Vulcan frowned, very slightly, but clearly. 'What happened to you? Why are you afraid of me?' He voice dropped, and there was a hint of darkness in it when he spoke again. It chilled Leonard to the core. 'What did I do to you?' The doctor's eyes went wide.

'You? Nothing. You did everything to bring us back here.' A part of him cheered quietly at the fact that he had automatically defended Spock. It meant he wasn't destroyed completely, just hurt. He took a deep breath, fixed his eyes on the Vulcan and took a step closer. There was no point in lying to him. 'The one that hurt me looked like you. But he was completely different.'

'What did he do?' Leonard swallowed hard.

'I … I'd rather not speak of it.'

'McCoy …' There was no threat in the voice. The other had broken Leonard's resistance. This one made it melt.

'He forced a mind meld on me.' Leonard's voice was barely audible. 'He wanted information, I tried to refuse, so he took it.'

'For that, your composure is admirable. Another would have been broken.'

'I feel like I have been.' Spock shook his head. For the first time since Leonard knew him, he didn't wait for permission to sit down but simply took a seat at Leonard's desk. He followed his lead, feeling that this was exactly what he needed: Speak to him, get the reassurance that he was kind, gentle, and not one bit violent.

'If you had been broken, you would not talk to me. You would not have had a moment of weakness as you did before, you would be a mindless animal or a vegetable. There is damage. I am sure of that because you experienced a momentary loss of control. But this damage can be repaired.'

'I'll need counselling, I know. Funny, seeing how I'm the doctor.'

'Counselling will not help you. You need someone to assess the damage to your mind and undo it. I might be able to, but I understand that you will not want this.' Leonard looked up at Spock, his lip quivering.

'He made me see things that weren't real. Will a healer see them?'

'Yes, Doctor. They have to. They will shield you from the experience to prevent you having to go through it again.' A slow, tired smile formed on Leonard's face.

'These are things I don't want you or anyone to see. And while I know that a Vulcan healer would be more than discreet, to think that a stranger would … I need you to do it. No other.'Spock closed his eyes, preparing himself. When he opened them, Leonard expected him to reach over, but he didn't.

'Are you ready?' Leonard shook his head.

'No. I need … I don't know, a week. Or a month.' Spock raised one eyebrow.

'If you had a patient with a femur fracture and they suggested to wait for a week, what would you tell them?' Leonard let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

'Point taken.' He licked his lips nervously, his heart thumping a wild tattoo in his chest. 'Do it, then. Do it before I change my mind.' Fingertips brushed his skin, the touch very light. A ghost of another consciousness touched him.

/Do not be afraid./

/I … I'm not./ Spock's mind was so different. The outward similarity had been frightening, but this being felt nothing like the man who had raped him. Something inside him was being lifted out of his thoughts, wrapped inside the other mind, and for a time – seconds or hours or days, he didn't know – he watched it struggle with what it had to deal with. But none of the pain reached him. Spock withdrew, and when he removed his hand, it was shaking.

'You are a remarkable man, Doctor. Your mind is free. You will always remember and it will still be overwhelming until you had time to heal. But the damage is repaired.' Leonard thought the only reason why his face wasn't beet red was his own stubbornness.

'Thank you.' He smiled but knew it looked bitter. 'Spock, I don't know if I can still face you. Not because of what your counterpart did, but because you know. I'm considering a transfer.' He looked down at the floor. 'I should have told you all that before I let you help me. It was selfish.'

'Sometimes selfishness is the adequate reaction.' That Spock didn't address Leonard's idea to transfer was all the agreement he needed. The Vulcan rose and crossed to the door, but he halted before he left. 'Do you know what he did to you?' Leonard frowned.

'I remember. You knew I would.' Spock shook his head marginally.

'That is not how I meant it. Do you know that what he did has a name?' That managed to cause Leonard to look at the other man again. Was there anger in the unreadable eyes? He couldn't be sure.

'I … I didn't.' The Vulcan pursed his lips and walked back to him.

'Kae-shaya. Mind breaking. He did not merely force a meld on you. He used surface emotions, twisted them into something dreadful, and hurled them at you until you gave under the pressure. A forced meld is, in our universe, punished severely. But what he did is one of the few things that are punished by death. And the outcome is not normally nausea and fear but something between severe psychosis and absolute destruction of the very soul.' He paused, clearly weighing his words very carefully. 'These pictures did not come out of nowhere.' It wasn't a question, and knowing Spock, there was no point denying that.

'No, Spock.' Just one more reason to get the hell out. He glared at the Vulcan. He had considered letting him know, but in the end, he had found a relationship between two males must be deemed highly illogical by Vulcans since it couldn't lead to reproduction. 'I have thought of you in a highly inappropriate manner. This is my punishment for those thoughts, then?'

'No. It was the punishment for your resistance to the forced meld. You should not punish yourself more by leaving.'

'Spock, what you saw … and with that knowledge, the knowledge that I did fantasise about you naked, inside me or underneath me … Or do I have to get emotional to crack that façade of yours? Do I have to say that I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms at night? That I … I loved you? That I wondered what it would be like to … live with you, until I die. Do you get now what this did to me? I could ignore all this, but I can't any more, and what's worse, he turned my little dream world into something dirty and obnoxious. I've got to get as far away from you as I can. This isn't healthy.'

'No, Doctor McCoy. But I reiterate, you should not leave.' Leonard raised his arms in defiance.

'I'm leaving, Spock. End of story.' The Vulcan allowed himself a tiny sigh.

'That is … regrettable. It is also regrettable that I knew nothing of this before. Were you bonded to me, this could not have happened. I would never have allowed you to be assaulted in that manner.' With that, he walked out, leaving a shell-shocked surgeon behind. A day later, Leonard contacted Starfleet command, but not because he asked for a transfer. Instead, he gave them a report of what had happened and requested counselling. They were not happy at first, but when he said he didn't need a leave, just someone to talk to, they sent a first-rate psychotherapist who lacked nothing but experience in space, informing Captain Kirk that she should remain until she had her space legs.

ϡ

He walked out of the transporter room with a glare at Spock. 'Took you too damn long for my taste.' He needed a drink. Badly. He couldn't tell when he'd had the last one, and that was never good.

The chime at the door to his sickbay woke him. 'The doctor is out,' he said, his speech slurred. Even he heard it this time, and he laughed.

'Open, McCoy. You do not want me to use my override.'

'Do what you must, son of a bitch.' A voice in his head said that this hadn't been wise, but he was beyond self-monitoring. The Vulcan before his door, of course, did as he had threatened. Leonard swallowed his fear of the tall creature prowling towards him, disgust written plainly on his features.

'I always wanted to know why a sadistic little human like you would want to be a doctor.' Memories blinked into his consciousness. Memories of another man who had genuinely wanted to heal. A man who had been amongst the first casualties on the vessel. He had died and his corpse had spawned a sick man who enjoyed others' pain, numbing his own any way he had. 'Tell me.'

'Why?'

'I shall hurt you.' Leonard snorted.

'See if I care.' He spread his arms. 'Go on, strike me down.' A slow frown formed on the Vulcan's face.

'I wonder.'

'At what?'

'Maybe there is something of him in you. The other McCoy. The visitor.'

'They were all weak, Spock. If you admire them, so are you.' The Vulcan walked to the door and locked it.

'I disagree. Answer my question.'

'I am a doctor because it gives me access to all the nice little things I can play with here.' Spock raised an eyebrow.

'I think you lie.' He looked at the almost empty bottle of brandy on McCoy's desk. 'You are a puny creature, frail of mind and body. The other had a kind of strength I never found in a human before. He refused to share his mind with me. I expected no resistance, as with you, but he fought so hard I nearly destroyed him out of anger. I am relieved that I did not. Now I wonder if you have, over the years, successfully ruined your potential.' Leonard grinned, grabbed the bottle and raised it.

'Here's to that.' He drained the remainder of the burning liquid and smacked his lips. Spock looked utterly disgusted.

'He had interesting thoughts about my person. I wonder if you have them, too. There was a time when I thought you would fight Captain Kirk, I read your mind, found that you were too weak, and never thought about it again.' Spock placed his hands on McCoy's desk and leaned down, staring into his eyes from above. 'Do you want him gone?' Fear washed over Leonard, making him break into a cold sweat.

'No. No, I would never.'

'Doctor. If I get rid of him, will you fight me?' Leonard's jaw dropped.

'You want to … since when?'

'Our visitors come from a world that is enviable. I wish to live in a world that is more like theirs. If I want that, I have to take responsibility. I have to kill Kirk and assume command. But I need an ally, and not just a little yeoman. I need someone with at least a semblance of power. You do hold lives in your feeble hands.' The Vulcan walked around the desk so fast Leonard was hardly able to follow with his eyes. Hands grabbed his shoulders in a steel grip that he knew would leave dark bruises. 'You must decide what you want to be. A healer or a torturer. If it is to be the latter, drink until your brain turns to jelly and cling on to your foolish loyalty to an empire that has given you nothing. If it is to be the former, you must still inflict pain, but it will have a purpose. Maybe you can heal everything that is wrong with this world. Which is it to be?' Leonard tried to turn away, but Spock shook him. Hard. 'Answer me!'

'I don't trust you. You're too deep inside Kirk's arsehole to …' The back of Spock's hand smacked into his cheek, sending him flying. 'And you wonder why I refuse,' Leonard grated from the floor. How he managed to be insolent, locked into a room with Spock and no help in sight, Leonard wasn't certain.

'You will not speak to me like this again. I warn you. As the Captain's pet you are of little use to me. I shall not kill you, but I shall not protect you either. It will only be a matter of time.' He made to leave, and Leonard scrambled back to his feet.

'Wait.' He dropped his voice. 'I really don't care any more, it seems, or I wouldn't ask this, but … do you mean that? You want the Enterprise, you want to … what? Add compassion to the Empire? I warn you, too: You'll die. Keep your head down and live.' Spock pursed his lips.

'I plan to change the status quo or escape. But I am not certain that I can do it alone. I shall, however try.' He shook his head. 'I am not attempting to lure you into a trap.'

'Well, if you are, you caught me. What do you want me to do?' Spock strode back towards him, and he flinched. But this time, the Vulcan didn't strike him. His voice was very low, but McCoy memorised every word.

'I want you to quit destroying yourself. You need your mind. In plain terms, no more drinking, even if it is difficult. I can help you with that if you need it. All you have to do is ask. I shall not think less of you for requiring aid, but I shall for failure. I want you to follow my orders, not because it gives me lowly pleasure, but because I know what to do. I shall not tell you everything, because information can be taken from you unless certain measures are taken. You will need to have faith, even if it is illogical. I shall not, of course, lie. And I want you to be honest with me, no matter what I ask, no matter if you wish to speak or not. Can you do all that?' And here he stood, feeling ever bit as puny as Spock had said he was. He glanced at the empty bottle and for the first time admitted to himself that he didn't only like the numb feeling of being drunk, but that he needed it.

'I don't know,' he said, sounding like a child. 'I'm too weak, Spock.' This time, when the Vulcan reached for him, it was almost gentle.

'Perhaps at first. But you will get stronger. I know your potential. I require your word.' Leonard forced himself to look at Spock, something he usually avoided. He always feared he'd transmit his feelings through his eyes.

'You have it,' he heard himself say. 'I'll help.'

'Then start now. I have seen things in the visitor's mind. Thoughts he had of me.' Leonard flushed, and Spock looked too satisfied for comfort. 'I see. A drunken yea-sayer has no value to me in my endeavours and in my life. A sober, strong mind is a different matter entirely. If that is ever something you can offer, Doctor, we can see if there are … options.'

((A few things … The idea of a sado-masochistic (spell-checking is in all honesty recommending soda-masochistic … head → desk) mirror universe where everyone uses sex to exert power is very odd to me, and that's obviously not a way I'm going. Another thing I don't like is that some people are being hell-bent of turning McCoy – prime universe McCoy – into a drunkard. I'm quite sure that wouldn't be tolerated, and I don't see that in his personality either. He's way too level-headed. Yes, I said that. I know drinkers, one who managed to pull himself out of the muck by his own hair, more who died. None of them were anywhere near as balanced.

There's a Harry Potter quote in there, albeit an inconspicuous one.

I'll keep doing it this way: Showing everything in both universes.))