Spock stared at the wall in sick bay, a look of indefinable emotion, and then of forced determination, passing over his face. His mouth worked for a moment as if he was having to coerce himself into speaking.

'Spock,' McCoy said again. 'Please. You know how important this is. You need to tell me what happened so I can treat you. When were you raped?'

Spock closed his eyes. He knew it was important. He knew that McCoy needed to know the history of his abuse, and that Starfleet legal would need to know the history of his abuse if he ever hoped to bring his attackers to justice. But it felt so hard. It felt so, so hard.

'It began some time after my capture,' he said eventually, opening his eyes again, staring at the grey reality of the wall. It was hard to believe in the reality of that wall after all this time. 'Two months after I crashed on Alphonae Prime, I believe. I was taken into slavery the same day as I landed...'

'The first people who found you,' McCoy murmured.

'The first people I came across,' Spock nodded. 'I managed to land safely by parachute. The shuttle was lost. I attempted to aim it for one of the oceans before I jumped.'

'All right,' McCoy said.

'I encountered a man who took me to the nearest farm to, as I thought, get help. But as it turned out he had no such intentions. He discovered that I was alone and without help, and I had seen some of the other slaves working there. I – suppose I would have been a risk had they let me go on my way. So they – did not. They aimed a gun at me and – recruited me into the ranks of their slaves.'

'And it happened on the farm?' McCoy asked.

Spock could tell that McCoy was trying to be patient, but he was also aware that he was himself illogically attempting to delay the moment when he spoke of the rape. He swallowed, and steeled himself.

'We suffered punishment very often, for quite minor offences. Whenever we were flogged we were attached to an upright board in the yard, our hands chained to a ring high up above our heads,' he said. 'At whatever time the flogging took place, we would be left there until morning unless we were put in the box. At dawn we would be released for work. But one time – '

He stopped, feeling as if the words were becoming stuck in his throat. McCoy put a hand gently on his arm. 'Go on, Spock,' he said quietly. 'I'm listening.'

'It was the son of the owner. We were required to call him Master Robert,' Spock said. 'He came to give me water, while I was chained on the board. He was with his friends – a group of – six – I believe. He was eighteen – his friends were similar ages. I believe they had been drinking. He was complaining loudly about having to tend to the 'animals' – but he let me drink...'

There was a long pause as he struggled with himself. He felt as if he were half in that time, no longer safe and on the ship. Although he could see the wall, grey and steady in front of him, he could see the farm too, see Master Robert there, watching him.

'So it happened then?' McCoy asked softly.

Spock nodded. 'Yes. It happened then. He and his friends. It – was a dare... They were violent. Sadistic. That was – six months ago. That was the first time it happened.'

'The first time?' McCoy echoed softly, almost unable to imagine the scenario Spock had just described, of taking such treatment from a teenage boy.

'He – ' Spock swallowed. 'He decided – he enjoyed the experience.' A look of sick revulsion came over his face. 'I had to let him – do as he wished, and remain passive for fear of worse punishment.'

'It happened often?' McCoy asked him, reassessing the multiple diseases and problems he would have to scan the Vulcan for.

Spock's eyes were closed now, as if he was trying to shut out the reality of what he was recounting. 'Often enough to be – deeply unpleasant. Infrequently enough that I could not become – accustomed to the process.'

'You're not supposed to be accustomed to rape,' McCoy muttered, trying desperately to keep his anger from spilling over into his actions. 'Spock,' he began very carefully. 'I'm asking you this now for medical reasons. I need to know what I might need to treat you for – and where. After that first time, was it just him, or were there others?'

'It was always him. But occasionally also his friends, usually in groups.'

'Were these – attacks – confined to anal rape?'

'… mostly,' Spock said hesitantly, keeping his eyes closed. He unclenched one hand and pressed it against his mouth as if remembering sensations he had no desire to remember. 'I had the choice of submission or – great pain,' he said slowly, almost guiltily.

'You survived, Spock,' McCoy reminded him softly. 'That was the only thing you could do. Now – did they ever force you to penetrate them?'

Spock exhaled through his nose, in something that sounded perilously close to a mirthless laugh.

'Not quite, Doctor,' he said faintly.

He seemed to steel himself, then turned over onto his back, and pushed the sheet down from his waist. McCoy sucked in breath as he saw the locked ring at the base of his genitals, encrusted with dirt even after the shower Spock had taken. The holes the ring ran through were inflamed and ragged, as if perhaps they had been partially torn at some time. Simply by the condition of the tissue McCoy could tell the area must be extremely painful – perhaps too painful even for Spock to attempt to wash it when he was showering.

'They found it amusing to use the ring to hurt me,' Spock said flatly. 'He, in particular, derived pleasure from hurting me. But as you can see, the act itself would be quite impossible. One learns very quickly to suppress any such reaction after the first instance.'

McCoy's jaw was clenched. He was obviously trying hard to suppress a reaction of anger and disgust. He turned away from the bed for a moment and Spock saw his shoulders tense and relax, and then he turned back.

'I should have something that can cut through that, Spock,' McCoy said softly, putting the sheet back over him. 'So we won't need to get Scotty back. And the damage looks repairable. Did they every penetrate you with any other objects?'

Spock closed his eyes, his face blanching very slightly. 'Occasionally,' he said flatly.

'Okay. One last question for now, Spock. When was the last time you were raped?'

Spock took in a deep breath, staring hard at the ceiling. 'Approximately thirty-seven hours ago.' He closed his eyes, swallowing hard as if trying to suppress nausea.

'Do you have any damage that needs treatment?'

'I have had worse, without treatment. But if you deem it necessary to treat me in the event of bleeding – '

'Yes, I deem it very necessary,' McCoy said grimly. 'And if you've had worse, then you probably have scarring that needs to be healed too. Spock, since you've got so much damage, that requires quite painful treatment, I'd like to propose putting you under a general anaesthetic, and trying to get as much done then as possible. You've got wounds from flogging that will need deep cleaning and skin grafts. And I can get rid of that ring, repair the damage there, repair the damage from the sexual assaults, and properly clean and treat the worst of the other wounds you have. It's not absolutely necessary to put you to sleep for any one of those procedures, but it's a lot to put you through all together. This way you'd wake up half way to being healed, and feeling a whole lot better. Would you be willing to let me do that?'

Spock appeared to think for a moment, then nodded soberly. 'I do not relish the idea of being conscious through such treatment. Do as you think best, Doctor. Are you ready to commence now?'

McCoy smiled. 'Give me ten minutes. I want to talk to you for a moment about the rest of your treatment.'

'Of course.'

'It's going to take time, Spock – I can't deny that. You're going to require intensive treatment on all those scars to regenerate healthy skin. The brand marks will require even more, because they go so deep. Probably some skin grafts will be in order, but we need to heal the deeper tissue first. Your toes – I don't know what happened to them – '

'Punishment, Doctor. First breaking of the bones, then removal. As you can see, I have occasioned that punishment eleven times.'

'I see,' McCoy murmured. He felt sick to his stomach to think of the pain the Vulcan must have suffered. 'Well, they're going to need breaking and resetting, I'm afraid. I'll do all that in a later operation, and I'll make it as painless as possible – I'll put a nerve inhibitor down there if needs be. The smallest toe I'll have to genetically profile, grow in the lab and transplant.' He regarded the Vulcan, realising that he barely seemed to be listening. 'Spock, you'll be all right,' he said gently. 'We'll heal your body, and we'll heal your mind too. It won't feel like this forever.'

Spock glanced up at him with some kind of plea in his eyes. 'I should never have let it happen,' he said in a flat, strengthless voice. 'My entire life I have been taught to reason with logic – to reason with others with logic. I should have been able to stop them…'

'Spock, you can't talk your way out of everything,' McCoy told him softly. 'No matter what you may feel, it's not your fault.'

'I gave myself up to an eighteen year old boy,' he whispered. 'I gave up resisting in order to save myself pain…'

'And if you hadn't?' McCoy asked more sharply. 'What would he have done, Spock? Smiled and agreed it probably wasn't the best thing to do? What would he have done if you'd fought back?'

Spock closed his eyes. 'Most likely he would have had me whipped, or mutilated. If I had harmed him, I would have been executed.'

'And where's the logic in that, Spock? We got you out of there, and we can heal you. That first time by all accounts you were utterly, utterly powerless. Any time after that, you would have been dying to prevent something that had already happened at least once. Where's the logic in that?'

Spock looked at him dully. 'Do you believe, doctor, that each time was only a repetition of the last? That there was no cumulative effect?'

'No, Spock. I don't pretend for a moment to understand the horror of what you've been through. But I do know – I know this, Spock – that you can bear absolutely no blame for it happening. No one would expect you to die rather than be raped.'