That little blank moment in the movie was just too tempting not to fill. Here's some Bones and Spock friendship.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own these fascinating characters.
AliciaRoseFantasy, out.
McCoy trudged through the undergrowth, grumbling under his breath, while casting furtive glances back towards the entrance of the cave. Using a careful eye, he took in each different plant as he passed; stopping intermittently to check out one every now and then, while keeping conscious of the gradually setting alien sun on the horizon.
Finally spotting something promising, he dropped to the ground with one knee and started scrutinising a small, green-leaved plant with a doctor's expertise. He performed several small tests: examining the leaves, the smell, and sap etc, before he seemed satisfied. He grabbed a rough handful of the specimens, placing them in several larger leaves he'd collected, before he moved on, picking off bits and pieces of things as he passed—never straying too far.
His movements were rushed, anxious, as he kept glancing around—alert. God help him if he was seen. He'd never forgive himself if they were caught now. He had to keep them both alive, if they had a hope of catching up with any fellow survivors.
A heavy weight of responsibility lying deep within his soul settled heavily in his stomach, a strong discomfort at leaving his fellow crew member, and current charge, lying alone in that cave. Even for a short period of time.
Cursing mildly, he picked up his speed, working faster so as to get back as soon as possible.
A short while later, McCoy made his way quietly to the mouth of the cave as the soft evening light began to fade, quickly making his way inside.
He panted in relief as he finally reached the centre, and placed his collected objects down, before rushing over to the figure still slumped against the stone cave wall.
He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the Vulcan was still just where he'd left him, alive, and found himself staring into a pair of dark eyes looking up at him intently, now fully awake.
"Doctor, where have you been?" The Vulcan replied steadily, despite the fact that he was panting lightly, and in obvious pain.
"What, do you want to starve to death? If we're gonna make it here through the night, we need nourishment," McCoy answered. He went back over to his collection of items, and began placing a mix of smaller leaves on one of the bigger ones, quickly adding the odd berry or two.
A set of slanted, dark eyebrows drew slightly, as a contemplating gaze followed his hands acutely. "I do not understand, Doctor, you do not need nourishment to stay the night. Humans are quite capable of surviving—"
"No, but you do. Or have you forgotten that just a few hours ago I pulled a rather large piece of metal piping out of your side? You need the strength."
The dark head tilted to the side. "But that does not include you, Doctor, which makes your earlier statement—"
"Oh, just shut up ok, Spock. My words don't need examining!"
Spock's eyes narrowed. "I...still do not understand. It is illogical to risk cover and place extra effort into finding me nourishment. It would be more logical for you to focus on yourself and finding the others instead of jeopardising your survival through—"
"Spock!" McCoy paused in his actions and took a deep, shuddering breath.
Spock snapped his mouth shut, and remained silent.
McCoy sighed, letting out a calming rush of air. He picked up a small amount of water he'd managed to collect from a stream using a piece of bended metal, and began trickling it into the small pile of foods. He then began to mash it all up with a clean stone.
Spock watched him with curiosity as he crushed the mixture together, before the doctor picked it all up with one hand.
McCoy moved over towards the currently helpless Vulcan, leaning against the stone wall, and as Spock watched, scooped up a small amount of the contents with a medium-sized leaf.
Carefully, McCoy moved the makeshift spoon of goop towards Spock's mouth. He recoiled.
"Doctor, I fail to understand your actions. I am quite capable of feeding myself."
McCoy gave the pale, panting Vulcan a deadpan look as he tried to sit himself up further—faint lines of poorly hidden pain scrunching up his face—only for him to slump back against the stone again.
"Yeah, I can see that. Why can't you put your Vulcan pride out of the way for a little while and eat your food? I didn't go out there all by myself, amongst God knows what, just for you to refuse."
The Vulcan seemed to deflate, if that was even possible, and stared off into the distance—having no fight left. With lips tightening at how abnormally easy it was to subdue the Vulcan, McCoy lifted the food forward, preparing to feed the one alien that had become so much a part of the Enterprise family over the last few years.
Spock reluctantly opened his mouth as he moved the food forward, and McCoy watched as he swallowed the small amount of vegetation he'd managed to find.
"Good thing you lot are vegetarian. My stomach's churning for a good, hearty piece of steak. I don't know how your Vulcan bellies survive on just those bland green leaves and mush you call food."
Spock remained silent as they finished the impromptu meal, McCoy shoving a few berries into his own mouth, before he took a sip of the remaining water, offering the rest to the Vulcan. He drank it without complaint, his face twisting slightly in pain as he held his side.
As McCoy watched, Spock slowly drifted off into a fitful sleep; the room now practically pitch black.
McCoy moved the remaining leaves out of the way before perching himself down in a guard position near the cave opening. He settled into his thoughts as he listened to the Vulcan's slightly elevated breathing, a pang of sympathetic sadness stabbing in his chest now that his company was asleep. Jim would never forgive him if anything happened to the Vulcan.
He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.
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