Leonard knew he had to do it. He downed two glasses of bourbon, hoping that would help. It didn't. He found himself sitting there, Spock's head resting on his lap as before, and he couldn't get himself to even initiate the contact. All he could think of was the pain he would cause. Swallowing all the pain, he started. Spock had to live. The rest … was not important. He'd probably never see the wonderful man again, because if Leonard broke their link, the Vulcan would leave. There was no doubt about that. This was the ultimate betrayal.

The contact was so sweet, all he wanted to do was let the presence of the other man caress him. 'Spock, look … This is never going to work, and I can't be your babysitter all the time.' He'd stung Spock, and he felt it keenly. This was so similar to how they had fought … how each had hurt the other almost to breaking point. And now Leonard was doing it again after they had patched their relationship back together, after they had both fully realised what it was they had nearly lost. And he was doing it on purpose. But in the past year he had reassured Spock so much that the Vulcan pushed the rejection away and answered with serenity.

'I am aware of that. All I ask is that you return every seven hours to support me. I do not need constant attention.' Leonard retreated from the love radiating at him.

'No … look, I'm just going to break our connection, and …'

'No!' There was something akin to panic in the reply. 'No, Leonard, do not do this to me.'

'I've got to, Spock. It was clearly a bad idea. Tell me how.' Silence. 'Don't be ridiculous. All I want is out of this meld and that link.' Spock's pain pulsed through Leonard, growing like a cancer and gnawing at his soul.

'You are certain?' He had to. Once in his life, Leonard had to ignore his emotions. Had to be cold and logical.

'Yes,' he managed. If Spock refused to take his word for it and searched more deeply, he'd find that the pain was shared and that Leonard loved him completely. That this was the last thing he really wanted. But Spock didn't search.

A wall slammed up between them, and Leonard was unable to feel Spock. At the same time, something he hadn't known he had was slipping out of his grasp, like a smooth wet thing that he just couldn't hold. He let it go, like a thick rope gliding through his hands. With every centimetre he got closer to panic. And suddenly every instinct inside him screamed protest. Consciously, he wanted to let go because he had to, but his mind shut off while his soul grabbed at the link, holding it, digging into it to stop the withdrawal, and for a moment it slowed. Slowed, but didn't stop.

And Leonard's mind gave up, surrendering to instinct willingly. He couldn't do it. He'd find a way, some way. But this … despite the wall of Vulcan discipline he sensed the pain this act caused Spock, and it hurt him, too, hurt him to the point of insanity. 'No,' he whispered. Then, he screamed the word, over and over, hoping that his Vulcan would hear him. 'No, don't go, this is all wrong! I can't … Please … honey, don't go!' If Spock could hear him, he ignored his shouts, and Leonard was running out of time, the rope was thinning to a thread. He slammed himself against the very visible wall, pounded against it, clawed into it, injuring himself in the process and not caring one bit. Only when he thought he would break his own mind on the shield the process stopped.

'Len?' The single syllable was so tentative, a last, shy question, begging him to stop the madness. He was more than willing to.

'Spock … my God, no. Don't go!' He flung himself at the essence of the being, crashing right through the barrier that had been softened just a little. 'Oh Spock. I can't … I can't, but I should, but I love you so much.'

'What … what is it you want? I do not understand. Why would you hurt me so?' The pain was so deep, so clear, Leonard nearly shattered from it. He didn't answer at once, tried to convey only what he felt, and he succeeded. The rest of the shield went and their link flared up brightly, a purgatorial fire that burnt down the fear and pain and left only joy behind. Finally, he found it in him to explain.

'There's some presence in you that'll stop you from coming back, but it would've been broken if I'd severed the bond. But I can't let it go. I just can't. Oh, honey.'

'I believed …' The thought was left unfinished, unimportant in the light of their bond. 'I must say, your mind is remarkably strong. Len, I will rather stay this way than live without you.'

'I'll rather have you back. All the way. But I don't think I can do it. I'd have to … I don't know. Find that other in you.' He received something that felt like a smile.

'I am very certain that you can. You know me very well, it will be easy for you to tell us apart.'

'I wish I had your faith in me.'

'You should. Beautiful, beloved human. Do not withdraw from me. Something that causes us both such anguish cannot be the answer. There is literature on the subject available from the Vulcan Science Academy. Do not ask them for help, they will not be forthcoming. But you can learn how to recognise an intruder. It can hide from me, but not from an external observer. I trust you completely.' Leonard started to break from the meld. 'Len … Promise you'll come back.'

'Of course, honey. Soon as I can.'

Ϡ

Leonard heard the constant beep of the biobed and jerked upright. 'What the hell?' Christine was at his side in an instant, pressing him down.

'You lost consciousness. We feared you were lost, too. It even seemed as if you were about to have a heart attack.'

'How long've I been out?'

'Nine hours.' Leonard swore.

'Stupid, stupid idea. And I should be tarred and feathered for even thinking about it!' The worry on Christine's face increased, if anything. 'I'm all right. This isn't going to happen again.'

'You'll stay right where you are until I can be sure.'

'Let me use the computer at least.'

'If that keeps you on this bed.'

There wasn't much to be found, but what information there was, Leonard absorbed. First, he was the only one who could do it. No healer had the intricate knowledge of another's mind a bondmate had. Of course, that usually meant being bonded for a while and being a Vulcan. So with him being a human bonded to Spock for what seemed like three seconds, it might be impossible. But his was the best shot. Second, someone had to look after them. He could very well get lost in the link, hurt himself. He wasn't going to tell anyone that. His best chance was to be completely secluded with Spock. If someone overly worried interrupted at the slightest problem, he wouldn't get far. Three, he could actually try and get rid of the other thing.

What he had to do was very similar to the way he had used their bond so far: create a link and get Spock to open up enough to show him everything. Up until now, their contact had been a deep connection. This would be more, a true merging with Leonard in control. The thought frightened him. One mistake and Spock's mind could be damaged beyond repair. He wasn't one of the few human telepaths, had no training in any related discipline. All he had was profound knowledge of psychology to rely on and the love and respect he felt for the individual so at his mercy.

He waited patiently until the night. Then he quickly disabled his biobed and locked the door with Jim as the only person able to override the lock. The Captain would never open this door without a very good reason. Then, for the third time, he gathered Spock in his lap, and made contact with his mind.

He was welcomed by a wave of love, and this time he let it reach and suffuse him, let Spock sense that the feeling was mutual. 'I know what to do. What I don't know is if I'll have you to guide me.'

'You will. I can help.'

'Spock, I could harm you.'

'You will not. I trust you. You are intelligent and cautious. This will soon be over.'

'Will this thing fight me?'

'We shall see. Commence, Len.' Taking a deep breath, Leonard did what he had read. He cleared his mind, tried to think of nothing but Spock, of the presence he felt. Spock helped, was there with him, near him, in him, around him. Their means of communication changed from verbal to something much more primal. There was amusement about the pictures in Leonard's mind. Apparently, for a Vulcan the meld wasn't like this, no visual allegories for what was incomprehensible. But then again, they were supposed to understand the details of the mind. Leonard couldn't, so he compensated by creating images, visions of walls and the rope that was their link and darkness that was the vastness of their minds and lights that were thoughts.

Lights … of different shapes and colours, shifting and changing and interwoven. But there was a pattern, something in common. He started to see where he ended and where Spock began. They were in perfect sync, but not the same. And then he found it. A light that disrupted the order, a single, small, lost thing. He had expected something malevolent. He found a tiny boat in a vast ocean, a plaything of the waves and yet a danger to the very water that was threatening it. He withdrew slightly, unable to cope with the depth of the meld. 'That … is that her?'

'No, this does not feel like T'Pring. It is, however, familiar.' Spock's voice in his mind sounded calmer than ever since this mess began. 'I believe this will be easier than you thought. But I doubt that I can help you. You need to reach out to it, perhaps can persuade it to withdraw. Do not destroy it, you might hurt the owner.'

'Do what, then? Ask it to return to whence it came?'

'Yes, that would seem to be the best course of action.'

'Spock … I can't do that!'

'Yes, you can. Help me. Help us. I wish to live. I wish to spend many years at your side. It is up to you to give us this time.'

'No pressure, right?'

'You will manage, my beloved.' Again, he went down into the abyss. This time, he found the wrong light at once and approached. It retreated, tried to evade like a wounded animal.

'I won't hurt you,' he said. It didn't quite seem like he said anything. All he could transmit was a wave of calm, but for him it was easier to use language as a kind of reference. At least he knew what he was doing that way. Kind of. 'Show yourself. Let me help you and him and me.' The light stilled and stopped its wrong transmissions, went quiet and opened itself.

It was so familiar Leonard nearly fell out of the meld. It was kind and stubborn and scared and courageous all at once. 'No way,' Leonard whispered and reached out. 'Is this what your mind feels like? But why are you here? What are you doing in Spock's head?' The answer was non-verbal, signifying that this was not the mind he had recognised but a mere splinter of it. It was deep love, but not like Leonard's. More driven, louder, and definitely rejected. Placed in a bubble rather than allowed to fill the Vulcan the way Leonard did. 'You need to let him go. If he means anything to you, let go.' Fear was the answer. Fear of being forgotten and destroyed. 'He loves you too, just not that way. Let him go. You'll still be there. I promise. You'll always be there. You'll always be welcome. But not … not like this. Right now, you're hurting him. Killing him!' The light started vibrating again, more in accord with the two of them now as if acknowledging that Leonard belonged there, and slowly, slowly it was fading. When it was gone, Leonard found himself abruptly in his sickbay. He swallowed, trying to stay upright and not fall off the bed.

'My Len …' Spock's voice was soft but definitely not just in his mind. 'Do you know who it was?' Leonard shook himself. Spock would be safe, but someone else might not.

'Yes. Wait. I need to see if there's been a side effect. Could be dangerous.' He slid from the bed and looked at Spock before bending down and kissing him deeply. 'Not for us, though. Be right back. Gotta sort this out.'

Ϡ

Sometimes life was just so complicated Leonard wanted to throw things and scream and shout at the injustice of the world. He didn't. Most of the time. But when the man he wanted to strangle at that moment needed medical attention, it was hard to resist the temptation. If that person was his best friend, things got complicated.

He'd expected trouble. Minds were a complex thing. Leonard knew that, better than anyone else on the ship aside from Spock. No matter how angry he was, he'd never risk the crew's mental or physical health, let alone Jim's. So he made sure that he wasn't suffering from brain damage or some other negative after effect of the exorcism he'd performed. But when Jim finally wake up woe betide him.

Spock and Leonard had been an item since a short time into the first five year mission, and Jim had known it almost at once, had even guessed it without anyone telling him. Had been supportive from the word go. But somehow a piece of Jim's mind had ended up in Spock's. That it could be the Vulcan's fault was unthinkable.

Technically, it wasn't Jim's fault either. He had no telepathic abilities, practically no ESP rating, no way to do anything other than let mental contact happen. And yet … it turned out Sarek had been right with his first thought: a meld gone wrong. It couldn't be anything else. Leonard would find out how the hell a part of Jim had ended up in his bondmate, and he sure wouldn't ask Spock. No need to bother him. His by Vulcan standards easygoing demeanour had originated at least partly in his and Jim's friendship. Unless it was completely unavoidable, Leonard didn't want to jeopardise that.

So he stood beside Jim's bed and waited while Spock was, thankfully, asleep. Leonard was so angry at first, determined to give Jim a thorough talking to. But after a time, the anger gave way to deep compassion. He loved Spock deeply, had fallen for him hard. What if Jim felt the same way and had merely kept it to himself because of Leonard? Turning his back on the sleeping figure, he sighed. 'God, how serious were you?'

'Serious? Me? Never.' The voice was slightly rough but quite firm. Leonard spun back around and stared at Jim.

'How're you? Headache? Disorientated?'

'Not really. I'm in sickbay, so something must be wrong with me. Last thing I remember is being in my cabin and getting ready for bed. What did I miss?'

'Oh, not much. I knocked you out of Spock's mind. Did it hurt?' Confusion blossomed on Jim's face and Leonard was instantly sorry for the way he had said this. 'Jim, are you in love with Spock?' Hazel eyes darted to his.

'What in the name of God did I say?'

'Answer the question,' Leonard growled.

'Simple answer: No.' Jim sighed. 'Complicated answer: I love him, but not that way. I once thought I did. Certainly had a crush on him. Wanted him.' Leonard threw his hands into the air and turned away. 'Bones. Bones, look at me.' Reluctantly, he did. 'Bones, the moment I realised you love him, and I think I noticed that pretty soon, I backed off because it would … never have been what you two share. I'm nowhere near serious enough for a Vulcan. It wouldn't have lasted. But you … if you love someone, you mean business. You're perfect for him. And I really, really … don't want him now. I don't love him that way. I swear. And I haven't the faintest idea what you were talking about.'

'You had something like a rudimentary bond with him,' Leonard explained. His heart was racing with something that wasn't quite jealousy but related. 'Why didn't you tell me how you felt?' Jim sat up and frowned.

'And do what? Make you feel insecure? Make you back off for me? Don't you get it? This is much more important for you than it would have been for me.' Leonard offered a short nod and said nothing. 'Now what are you going to do about that bond?'

'Did already. I persuaded what was in him of you to leave. I'm sorry Jim, didn't want to give you grief.'

'Question. Does this … change anything for you? Make you uncomfortable? Around me, I mean.' Whatever resentment Leonard had felt died. He sat down beside the man who was his oldest friend and seriously worried.

'No. Don't you think that.' He leaned closer and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. 'Jim. Really.' The relief on the Captain's face was visible. 'You passed out because I removed the link. Now … Spock's gonna ask me who was in his mind. Can I tell him? I won't if you say no but I'm not going to lie, either.'

'Tell him. Tell him if you find a way to do that without making him feel … you know. I don't want to lose his trust.' Leonard shot him a God-honest smile.

'Don't worry, Jim.'