Date: 11/5/09

Summary: Why do we hurt the ones we love and why, after we've hurt them, do we continue to desecrate their very being by asking for forgiveness? How could Leonard McCoy ever forgive such a horrible transgression, such a soul-shattering mutilation made against him by someone he trusted so sincerely?

Warnings: Rape, sex, slash. Other deliciously depressing things.

A/N: I'm a big fan of the Spork, but I'm also an avid SpoCoy fiend. I'm just venting my frustrations with this story here. Don't take no offence to it. It was mostly written for my sickening amusement, but if you lovely people find something you like in it, well then that's damn fine too. Don't comment on my atrocious grammar and such, I am already fully aware of how ghastly it is. You'd think that after so many years of schooling I'd of learned something by now. If you do find mistakes, just ignore them and pretend they aren't there, that usually works for me. Be sure to enjoy it, if you can.

Plastic Stars

By: Sesshy's-Stalker

Chapter 1: Our Hopes and Expectations

Spock trembled… a cold shiver ran up his spine and numbed the tips of his fingers.

It was happening.

How could this be, it was far too soon, it wasn't time yet! He could feel the air in his lungs becoming heavier, making it hard for him to breathe, his heart rate raising abruptly, and a cold sweat spreading across his body. The heat in his already boiling body was elevating. His usually logical thought process was being interrupted by more basic instincts completely foreign to him. Some sort of 'need' he was completely at a loss to explain consumed him. The utter strangeness of this new sensation alarmed and overwhelmed him.

He needed to leave, the cabin he almost considered a home becoming too restricting for him. This space was too shut in, too confined, and utterly suffocating. With a forced rigidness he took the last vestiges of control he had over his body, stiffly exited his room and walked down the corridor to the turbo lift. Once inside his breathing became even more labored and his posture less composed. With clammy shaking fingers he set in his destination coordinates, manually, not trusting his voice to speak comprehensibly.

He arrived in medical bay in less time than it took him to align himself.

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He rushed out of the lift toward the Chief Medical Officer's private office. It was more of a study than an office, the CMO conducted more experiments and studies than actual office work in there. Once he was inside he hastily punched in the master lock to the door. With his breathing now reduced to pants and his usually impeccable posture crumbled, he gazed half-hazardously at Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, who in turn stared at him with a startled expression, and a half eaten sandwich stopped en route to his mouth; which was open as if ready to receive said sandwich.

'Well this is certainly new.' was the first thought that ran across Leonard's mind, then followed by 'I guess no lunch for the good ol'doctor today…again.' Leonard quickly recovered and closed his mouth, lowered the sandwich onto his desk, gave it an almost wistful look and turned his chair to give Spock his full attention.

He usually grumbled at the idea of having to deal with Spock, given that most of their encounters ended up irritating and aggravating him, but today was a special case.

Today Spock had come to him.

This was a rare occurrence, Spock never came to him for anything…unless it was dire. Judging by the state he was in, it most likely was. Leonard took in his appearance, quirked an eyebrow, pursed his lips and blinked at him for a good few seconds. "Can I help you, Spock?" He never greeted the hobgoblin this civilly, but he figured it was best to use decorum in such an unusual circumstance, something was off about the Vulcan and he wasn't too sure how to approach it.

His voice came in ragged pants, adding a husky quality that the doctor had never heard or thought would hear from the oh so dignified First Officer.

"Doc-to-tor Mm..-coy, …ngg…" He fell to his knees clutching his head, his fingers clawing into his hair,. The rational logic he had always desperately clung to was slowly being overshadowed by something else, something different…something primal.

At some point from when Spock had started talking to when he was on the floor writhing, Leonard had crossed the small distance between them and gotten out his tricorder. He ran the scanner over Spock's body, noting the elevated heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, and above all aggression. Vulcans never showed emotion, not even under the most difficult of situations; if Spock was showing emotion then something was seriously wrong with him. When he had begun studying Vulcan physiology at Star Fleet Academy he never really thought he'd have to apply it. And yet here he was, being faced with an opportunity at the worst possible time with the worst possible patient.

Sure, he knew a Vulcan's anatomy inside and out, but this body was still so foreign to him, he'd never even actually touched Spock, he preferred to leave the hobgoblin's examinations and physicals to the other doctors and nurses. It might have been because of his initial distaste for him, but Leonard didn't much like to be around the pointy-eared bastard.

As he saw the pained look on Spock's face he realized that now wasn't the time for such petty irrationalities, he was a doctor first and a hateful, old man second. Spock needed him and even if he didn't have much kindness for him, Leonard McCoy never let down a patient in need.

With the initial readings down and what he could observe of Spock himself, Leonard had a hunch as to what was ailing the wretched man. He just needed Spock to confirm it.

"Spock, listen to me, I'm going to give you a strong tranquilizer. It won't do much in your state, I just need you lucid enough to give me the information I need, alright?" He didn't wait for a response as he loaded a hypo from his desk and injected its contents into Spock's neck.

In his irrational state of mind Spock responded to the injection with an uncharacteristic growl. Even if he knew this might have been a response, it still surprised Leonard to hear such a thing come from Spock, it was abnormal. Within seconds Spock seemed to visibly relax, he was still breathing harshly, but his eyes seemed to focus and become more aware. He looked desperately, almost pleadingly into Leonard's eyes, a cry for help screaming in his dark human eyes.

McCoy furrowed his eyebrows, his look questioning and slightly accusatory, " It's happening, isn't it? You're going through it, aren't you? Pon Farr?"

It surprised Spock to know the doctor was aware of such things. He would have made his astonishment known had he the mental fortitude to convey it, but at the moment he didn't trust himself with anything. He looked up to Leonard and feeling himself get lost to his baser instincts again quickly nodded.

Leonard knew what this meant and he knew what the Vulcan was capable of, if prior information on the subject was any indication. Spock needed help, dire help, the kind he couldn't provide. "Spock, I'm going to need you to follow me to one of the bio-beds, to restrain you. You know that it will be necessary, so let's hurry." McCoy knew this would alarm the crew, and Spock would not want to be seen in such a state. Privacy was key. He led Spock to the private bio-bed kept in his office for confidential and classified procedures. With his knowledge of Vulcan strength he knew the restraints wouldn't hold for long. Hopefully just long enough for him or somebody else to figure out what to do.

With such a delicate situation thrust upon him, Leonard turned to the only person who could probably figure a way out of any problem. "Jim! I need you in Medical Bay immediately. This is an emergency!" He took his hand away from the intercom before he even heard Jim's response, he didn't need it.

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It was exactly 2.46 minutes later when James T. Kirk, Captain of the USS Enterprise, shuffled into medical bay, winded and red-faced.

Having overrode the master lock, Leonard hurriedly pulled Jim into his office and set about to explain the recent predicament.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Bones. Are you telling me that my first officer is currently going through something called "Pon Farr"," he air-quoted the word, much to Leonard's annoyance, " which makes him extremely violent and irrational… and he is going to die… unless he…gets some?"

"Not the most elegant way to put it, but yes Jim. Spock's biological instincts demand that he go to Vulcan and mate, which we both know is now an impossibility since the whole damn planet was destroyed, and I don't mean to be insensitive, but the mate he was probably promised to is most likely dead." Jim took in this new information with a more serious mind-set.

"How long does he have, Bones."

He gave a heavy sigh, "Not long I'm afraid. Less than a week, 4 or 5 days at the most. We're going to have to come up with a very desperate solution, you know." As soon as those words left Leonard's mouth a small "Kirk"-like glint entered Jim's eyes. "You said he only needs a mate to complete this Pon Farr, right? Soooo… why don't we just get him a mate? I'm sure somebody on this ship would jump at the opportunity."

Leonard sighed, he always seemed to do that around Jim. "It's not that easy, Jim. Vulcans mate for life, they can't just find some girly down the street and call it a day. Their bonding is intimate and highly treasured, it is also permanent. They have to be compatible with their bonding person. They have to do this mind-meld thing that sorta seals them completely to whom they mate with."

Jim gave a low whistle, "Damn, that's intense."

McCoy made no response. He simply walked over to the Vulcan who was now writhing in a restless sleep. "He needs somebody to bond with, Jim. Or he's going to die." The grave tone he used to say that sentence sobered Jim up instantly.

"We need Uhura."

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Uhura had been summoned to Doctor McCoy's office on the grounds that there was an emergency that required her specific skills. So far she had yet to see what was needed of her, her specialties were in xeno-linguistics, not anything remotely medical.

Stepping into Dr. McCoy's she saw an odd sight.

Captain Kirk was wrestling Spock down, who was in turn struggling against his restraints on a bio-bed, while Dr. McCoy was loading a hypo spray. Once he was injected, Spock went limp.

Odd indeed.

"Doctor? Captain? What is going on here?" That brought the men's attention to her. Awkwardly, Jim cleared his throat and was the first to speak, "Uh-…Lt. Uhura. We- I, I have a favor to ask of you-" he gave a sidelong glance at Leonard, "it's not an easy favor to ask, but please bare in mind that this is all for Spock. If you won't do it for me, do it for him." he said as he looked at Spock's unconscious form.

By now Uhura was beyond confused. 'Do what for Spock?' 'Was she the only one who could do it?' She gave Spock one last look before giving the Captain her full attention.

"May I ask what this is about?"

Both the Captain and the Doctor looked at her grimly. She figured the Captain would explain the situation, but when Dr. McCoy began talking she was surprised.

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He described the present state of affairs in a frantic rush. "-do you understand, Lieutenant? Spock needs you right now!"

She was stunned. She felt cold and the air around her sizzled in her hyper aware state. She would've had a hard time breathing, if she had been able to at the moment. How could they ask her such a thing? How could they ask her to give up her freedom so easily? She could feel desperate tears well up in the corners of her eyes, she could feel a horrible knot tighten in her throat, choking off her words.

"I-I-…" She broke down.

Jim watched her, it hurt. How could he ask one member of his crew to sacrifice themselves for another. It was unfair of him, as a captain…as a person.

His face hardened with resolution. He put a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder and spoke. "Lieutenant, you have 3 days to make your decision. I hope you choose wisely. You are dismissed." Uhura looked up at him, the gratitude in her eyes absolutely heartbreaking. "Ye-yes, Captain." She stood, gave each of them a curt bow, and left.

Bones watched her go solemnly, then turned to Jim with an incredulous expression. "How can you just let her go? Spock is in desperate need right now. Are you just going to let him die?"

He gave Leonard a somber look. "I've already made up my mind, Bones. If she doesn't do it…then I'm going to."

Leonard was speechless.