((Warning: Caveat lector. - And don't get me wrong, this gets nasty at one point.

The title is from Purcell's I attempt from love's sickness, a soprano air in the opera The Indian Queen.

Originally published in Spiced Peaches XXXVII. Broken into chapters here because of its length.

Like everyone else, I like feedback. Extra points for figuring out why the Lopterians have a knot for a symbol.))

Leonard sat in his cabin, placing personal items on shelves and the desk, trying to make the room feel like a home. It was larger than the cabin on the first mission, but still … it wasn't Georgia. 'What the hell were you thinking, Leonard?' he asked.

'You were thinking that your old friend needs you if he's going to spend another five years in space. That you're the best CMO I could have and that you weren't going to deprive me of that.' Leonard spun, heart racing. He hadn't heard Jim enter.

'If you scare me to death you'll need another CMO after all. Can't you shout or something?'

'Hi, Bones, I'm here!' Jim called with a grin. 'Sorry, I didn't want to startle you.' Leonard waved him away. 'You know, I wonder why you agreed.' Leonard shrugged. There was really just one reason, but he wasn't going to tell Jim just what that was.

'Spur of the moment, really.' He stepped up to Jim with his arms folded. 'Unable to resist that hurt puppy look you get when you want something.' Jim scowled at him.

'Forgive me for hoping I won't be out here alone without the people I love the most.'

'You have Spock, and he seems to be back to his normal self.' Except not towards me, a savage little voice in Leonard's head added. The remark did nothing to wipe the unhappy look from Jim's face.

'Yes, but … If either of you hadn't agreed it wouldn't be the same.'

'It isn't the same. You're an Admiral.'

'And Spock is a Captain, and you're a Commander. So nothing's changed in relation.' He was right of course. Jim's rank made no difference because it made no difference to Jim. Leonard felt guilty for what he said but knew better than to apologise for something so trivial. He didn't feel like getting laughed at. 'Bones, what's wrong? Do you regret staying here?' Leonard smiled, and it was real.

'No, Jim, I don't regret it. I … want to be here.'

'So business as usual?' The smile widened.

'Dinner together when possible, I have to start a ship wide search for you whenever I need to examine you, I get to be on the bridge when sickbay doesn't need me … or do we follow protocol and I stay put and among those of my own kind?' Jim tutted.

'Do you need me to grovel some more? You're a cruel man, Bones. Like I said. Business as usual.' Leonard watched him leave and heard a chuckle when the door closed between them. He felt a lot better than before. What he had said about Spock being back to normal wasn't even true. The Vulcan was a lot more open than before his departure to Gol. Leonard had wanted to talk to him for a while but couldn't bring himself to visit. Only when Jim had asked him to join on another five year assignment he had agreed, making up his mind to get at least their friction-heavy friendship back. So far, he hadn't been very successful. Not that he had tried too hard. Or at all.

After adding the final touches to his cabin, Leonard headed out into the corridor and, with a deep breath, walked to the next door. He announced himself and waited for the deep voice to say, 'Enter.'

It was like stepping back into the past. The lights were low, dark red drapes covered the walls, the firepot was back in place, it's shadow transformed into a monstrous creature. The temperature was high but not unbearable. 'What do you require, Doctor?' Doctor … had he hoped that Spock would call him Leonard? Well, yes, damn it, he had.

'Nothing, Spock,' he said lightly. 'Just wanted to pay a visit.' One eyebrow rose as if that were a surprise. 'Is it so inconceivable that I want to make a social call?'

'Not inconceivable, but unexpected.' The Vulcan sounded so cold, so distant, Leonard wanted to turn back and flee, but he stood his ground.

'Well, I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I've got to be in sickbay in a few minutes anyway.' He had almost reached the door when Spock spoke again.

'I did not believe you would return to this ship. I have to admit that the surprise is a pleasant one.' Warmth spread through Leonard from his heart into his very toes. He turned and smiled at the Vulcan.

'You know how Jim gets. He's hard to resist.'

'Indeed. You have been my physician for a sufficient time to know my needs. I would not be as comfortable with another who may have experience with Vulcans but not with my hybrid physiology.'

'Don't worry, Spock. I'm familiar enough with that green blood of yours.'

ϡ

'You know this could have ended a lot worse for you,' Leonard said calmly to the ensign. She had the grace to look dejected. 'The safety protocol exists for a reason. You're too young to die because you neglect it.' His voice was as gentle as he managed in the face of complete foolishness. 'This time it's just a burn, next it could be radiation or who knows what.'

'I'm sorry.' He smiled.

'Well, you're good to go.' She hesitated for a moment and he tilted his head. 'Anything else I can do for you?'

'Is this … are you reporting me?' Leonard sighed.

'No. Of course not. Just be more careful in the future, will you?' His concern was real. He was a healer at heart, and if he couldn't heal someone it ate at him. It was one of the reasons why he had left space. In a small office of his own he never had so many casualties to deal with.

After the ensign left he allowed himself a sigh. 'Leonard, please go. Your shift is long over.' Christine Chapel's voice was soft and soothing. He smiled at her, but it wouldn't appease her. 'It's been a long day. You're working too hard.' That was definitely not what was so troubling. After his short visit to the Vulcan where he'd been told that it was a good thing he was here, there was nothing. Not the smallest ghost of a smile, no trace of their light banter. Spock was dry and occasionally almost cruel in his slights against Leonard's emotionality.

'Don't mother me,' he said more gruffly than he had intended, but Christine knew him long enough not to be hurt.

'I said go. Medical order. Now.' Her tone was gentle, but there was no doubt she meant business. Leonard huffed and left for his quarters. One look into the mirror was enough to tell him that she had been right. He needed to sleep.

'Way to go, Leonard,' he told his image. 'Work yourself to a cripple, that'll impress him. Try not yelling at the tiniest teasing. Try being his friend again, how's that sound?' Angry at himself, Leonard banged his fist against the sink and returned to his sleeping area. If he got enough rest he'd be less irritable.

When the intercom woke him, he felt as if he'd only just lain down. In truth, it had been five and a half hours. Nowhere near enough. Groaning, Leonard dragged himself to the console. 'McCoy here,' he said, his speech slurred from sleep.

'Bones, I need you in the transporter room.' Jim's voice sounded concerned enough for him not to argue. Dressing quickly, he hurried over and found Jim and Spock already there. 'Accident in the science lab on the Nal space station. You're beaming over, Spock'll help them get the situation under control, you'll see to the injured.' Leonard's training kicked in, waking him.

'Do we know anything more?' Jim nodded and rattled off a report about what substance had leaked in the sickbay, that the medical staff had the most severe cases and was all but incapacitated. It all sounded strange. The substance had no business being in a sickbay, God knew what fool had put it there. Leonard would give the staff a good talking to once he was done.

When he and Spock arrived on the space station, Leonard realised that something was off, but he couldn't point his finger at it. Something about the man greeting them … Leonard shook the feeling off. He was tired, that was all. 'Please follow me, doctor, sickbay's just in here. Mr Spock, the contamination is over there in the next room.' Leonard did as he was asked. As far as he could see, every biobed held a patient, the most prominent one the Captain of the space station. The feeling of unease increased. 'He was fine when he talked to Captain Kirk,' Leonard said. 'What happened to him?' The man who had led Leonard into sickbay hadn't introduced himself. Leonard looked at him again, and now he saw it: an insignia, small and insignificant at first glance. Stitched into the hem of the man's shirt was the symbol of a rather chaotic knot, done in the same colour as the shirt and only visible because of the slight elevation. Fear rose in Leonard's chest, not so much for his own safety but for Spock's. He heard the answer to his question on the edge of his perception, telling him that apparently the stress had been too much for the elderly man. Absently, he nodded and approached the still figure. Forcing himself to focus, he took the Captain's readings. According to them, it might be true. There was no substance in his system that would cause such symptoms, but the tricorder showed circulatory insufficiency. Nothing that couldn't be controlled for the moment. In the long run, it was questionable if a man in such a condition could head a space station. 'Who is the second in command?'

'I am. Commander Vetala.' Leonard nodded and took cursory glances at all the patients. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He didn't allow himself to hope that Spock was safe. If Vetala wore a shirt that gave him away as what he was, this was not an accident and chances were there were more of them around.

'I'll contact our ship for a quick report.' He did as he had announced and flipped open his communicator. 'McCoy to Bridge.'

'Bridge here,' Jim said calmly, blissfully unaware of what was the real problem down Leonard's end. He had to be very careful.

'It's not as bad as it looked. I'll be finished in about fifteen minutes. Have the transporter stand by. And to be safe, have a medical team ready in the transporter room, just in case something goes wrong with the decontamination process.' He prayed fervently that Jim wasn't going to ask what on earth might go wrong. 'See that there's no-one else in the transporter room but medical staff, not even the engineering guy. If we're contaminated we need no-one else afflicted.' Jim was silent for a moment.

'Of course, doctor. Everything else all right down there?'

'Sure Captain, situation's under control. McCoy out.' Vetala was frowning slightly.

'Doesn't the transporter beam decontaminate you?' Leonard nodded.

'Yes. But we've had cases where that didn't work out as it should and I'd rather not take risks.' If Vetala realised that Leonard was on to him, he was dead. He ignored the thought and got to work. He had to get out, but most of all, he had to get Spock out. And somehow he had to tell Jim that he might have to find the Vulcan with the scanners, because he was unlikely to still be in possession of his communicator.

Treating the contamination was easy. A few people had died, and Leonard assumed that they had been the targets of the attack. For that was what this was: a crime, a vicious, hateful crime against people who didn't believe the human race was superior. When he was done, Leonard realised he had to be quick. 'McCoy to Enterprise,' he said quietly. Vetala had left him, not for long, Leonard was sure, but he had a moment. He forced himself not to think what Vetala was probably doing as he spoke.

'Kirk here.'

'Jim don't ask me any questions right now, just trust me. I need you to find Vulcan readings and beam Spock back that way. You won't find him with the communicator. Get me back up, too, I'm done and don't feel like lingering here.'

'Bones, wh…' Jim fell silent. 'At once.' When he felt the familiar sensation of the transporter, Leonard was torn between relief and dread of what he would have to deal with on the ship.

ϡ

The only reason why Leonard's hands weren't shaking was because they were clutching the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles were white. Jim had placed a brandy in front of him, but he hadn't touched it. His voice was rough and his dialect thick with something more than too little sleep. He felt as if there was a huge void in his mind, spreading and infecting his emotions. He didn't feel anything, and that alone nearly incapacitated him. 'The Lopterians,' he said, 'started a couple of years ago. They didn't want the Betazoids to be allowed into the Federation because of their strong telepathy. They said allowing them in would mean all our thoughts were there for the reading, leaving humans defenceless.' He swallowed. 'They obviously weren't heard, grew quiet, and a long while after their first appearance and the admission of Betazed they returned as a well-organised group of criminals. Their views are still the same, only worse. They fear everything that's not human. And telepathic races are anathema. They found out how you can hurt a telepath the most, and that's what they do to them if they get them into their vile hands.'

'What were they doing on the Nal space station?' Jim asked quietly. The Captain's voice was a quint lower than normally, a certain sign that he was beyond fury.

'I don't know. And I don't care, Jim. That's for the law to find out. I'm just telling you what I know about them.'

'How did you know it? I never heard of them.' Leonard sighed.

'I had other victims of their malice on my hands. In my time with the Fabrini we had an incident.' His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. 'One man and one woman killed themselves. Jim, I have no idea what such an act does to a Vulcan. I just don't know.' Jim swallowed.

'Probably what it does to anyone else. How is he, physically?'

'Healing trance. Tissue damage's been repaired, but the real problem is his soul.' Leonard struggled to get the picture of Spock out of his head, lying prone, naked, and unconscious on the transporter pad with his legs spread wide and blood and something else he refused to think about all over his buttocks and pooling between them. He had expected it, but that hadn't prepared him for the real thing. The medical personnel had acted with perfect professionalism, but Jim had done something Leonard had never seen him do: He had stood frozen with shock, unable to speak or react until McCoy had thrown him out of the transporter room, raining curses on him for being there. 'Did we find any others that aren't human?'

'Our scanners didn't.' Leonard rubbed his hands over his face. In hindsight, he was glad that Jim knew. It gave him someone to talk to.

'Jim, what do I do with him? How the hell do I help him?' A gentle hand was placed on Leonard's shoulder.

'He'll get over this, Bones. He's not the first rape victim.' Leonard shook his head.

'You're not getting this, are you? He's a telepath, for God's sake. He felt all the hatred, revulsion, whatever else, these men held for him. It's worse for him than for a human, and don't get me wrong, I know it's hell for a human.'

'Bones, if I'd sent you with a human from our science department …'

'Nothing would have happened. I'd have seen their sign, I'd have told you, but no-one else would have been harmed. We would have reported to Starfleet command and they'd investigate just as they are now, but without one of our own abused like that. You had no way of knowing, Jim. It's my fault if anyone's. I saw the man and knew there was something amiss, but it didn't get through the thick skull of mine. I saw the knot on his shirt but I couldn't place it.' He stared right into Jim's eyes. 'It's my fault that Spock's been raped. Mine alone.' Jim walked quickly around the desk and grabbed Leonard's shoulders.

'You listen to me now. It's the fault of those who did it, not yours. You did the only thing you could, kept your head and worked as fast as you could without raising their suspicions and making them kill both you and him. You saved his life.'

'I don't think he's going to thank me for that.' Leonard sighed. 'I … I'd like to be alone, Jim.' After a moment's hesitation, his friend nodded.

'All right, Bones. Tell me if anything changes.'