Definitely been a while since I've posted...anything here... This was written after a night of cripplingly painful chest constrictions that later turned out to be severe heartburn. Written with TOS in mind, not Reboot.

I don't own Star Trek. Paramount does.

Spock wasn't sure why, after so many away missions gone wrong, that such an event had the power to disturb him to such an extent. Perhaps it was how it had happened. But more likely, he admitted grudgingly to himself, it was who had been involved…

"What're you poking around there for, Spock?"

The Vulcan looked up from the small cluster of plants he had been examining at his friend, who was glowering at him from behind a short, primitive fence. "I am endeavoring to collect a sample of these plants, Doctor. They are most interesting."

Doctor McCoy sighed in frustration, stomping over to him. "Idiot! Don't you know this area's off-limits, and probably for good reason? The natives won't go anywhere near this place! They say there's an animal in this place…"

"Mere superstition, Doctor."

It hadn't been superstition. Spock, distracted as he had been by the flora, had not noticed the flash of scales moving among the red-and-grey rocks. He remembered little else beyond McCoy's warning shout before the human, obeying some crazy instinct that went against any sort of self-preservation, shoved Spock out of the way. Spock drew and fired his phaser, too late. The doctor lay lifeless on the ground in a spreading pool of blood.

Now the first officer gently cradled McCoy's head as he assessed the doctor's injuries. He had to hurry; the predator, the Hs'kyt as the natives called it, had done critical damage to the defenseless human. The doctor wasn't going to live for long without proper treatment.

Though swift, Spock's movements were calm. His face was a blank mask. It wasn't until McCoy stirred, whimpering in pain, that the emotionless façade cracked.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," he whispered, pressing his forehead to the older man's. As a touch telepath, he could feel his friend's agony with sharp clarity. "Sleep for now. I will take you to safety."

McCoy smiled slightly before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Taking a deep breath, Spock flipped open his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise. Two to beam up, emergency medical team to Transporter Room at once. Doctor McCoy is critically injured."

No one bothered trying to tell him everything was going to be all right. No one told him to stay off duty for fear of his emotions compromising his work. No one permitted him to go into Sickbay, either. He simply had to wait, and allow himself some hope. So Spock waited in McCoy's office, compiling his report.

"You and your damn report. Show a little concern, why dontcha? Or does that green ice water you call blood keep you from doin' that?"

The Vulcan blinked, glancing around the office. There was no one there. "…I am hallucinating."

"Try again. I'm in surgery right now."

"Doctor McCoy?"

"How about using that computerized brain and thinking? What'd you do to me?"

"I do not know." Spock steepled his fingers, going back over the day's events in his mind. What had he done?

After a few minutes, his right eyebrow went up. "…Ah. I see."

"What?"

"I attempted to alleviate your pain until you could receive proper medical attention. We became linked."

"Then break it and get me the hell outta your head!"

"I do not know whether or not I will be able to." He thought for a moment more, feeling McCoy's glare even without the doctor's physical presence. "It would most likely require physical contact."

"After surgery, then?"

"As soon as I am permitted to visit," Spock promised. "After all, having your all-too-human psyche meshed with mine would significantly reduce my mental capacity."

His only reply was a loud snort.

Finally, McCoy was declared stable, albeit comatose. Kirk made dead sure he was the first visitor, leaving Spock-with an increasingly grouchy McCoy in his head-to wait outside as the minutes ticked by.

"When's he gonna come out already, dammit?" McCoy half-whined. "This really feels weird."

Spock wasn't too comfortable himself. McCoy's active and volatile personality was doing serious damage to the Vulcan's mental control. He could barely hide his relief when Kirk finally left, allowing Spock to enter the infirmary.

The Vulcan placed his fingers on the appropriate nerve endings in McCoy's face. "My mind to yours…" he said softly, the mantra relaxing him. He felt McCoy flow out of his body, into his own.

Blue eyes struggled open as the doctor took his first unaided breath in hours. "…Spock?"

"Yes, Doctor?" Spock laid a warm hand on McCoy's wrist, relieved to feel his pulse beating strongly beneath his fingers.

"Next time...listen to me. I mean it."

Spock could only nod.