AN: A friend of mine was joking about this idea and I couldn't get it out of my head. So I made it exist.
It worked much better than either of us expected.
For the record, I wrote this while picturing DeForest Kelley. And, I mean, I can't stop you from picturing Karl Urban, that's your call, but there might be some issues when they eventually run into Eomer. Just thought I should mention.
He was squinting his eyes in preparation for the transporter. High pitched ringing, a flurry of lights and Bones quickly decided he'd just shut his eyes for a second. Just one second. The tone faded away and when Bones relaxed and peeked his eyes open, he wasn't confronted with the familiar, metal interior of the transporter room.
No, instead he found himself standing on a pile of dead leaves, in a forest he didn't recognize.
How…odd.
Their mission was supposedly straightforward. The Enterprise had picked up a distress signal originating from a colony ship near the planet Simora. Jim, Spock and Bones had been beamed down to investigate, and Bones had thought it wise to bring along a medkit; the distress signal indicated that they needed medical assistance in addition to protection. The protection, it seemed, was from a race of primal aliens who'd stowed away on the colonists ship, and the three of them soon found themselves fighting off the creatures.
There weren't many stowaways, luckily enough. After a round or two of blasting, the aliens were dispatched, Bones was leaning over an injured woman while Jim and Spock questioned the captain. Everything was fairly routine, if not uneventful, and there were no hiccups along the way.
That was until Bones ended up in a forest.
His first thought was that he'd somehow gotten beamed onto the planet the colony ship was orbiting. It was close enough that he could reasonably assume the person working the transporter had seriously screwed up their one job, but Bones quickly shut down that thought after he mulled over his frustration for a moment. Simora was all ice and snow. Not a single temperate forest in sight.
His second thought was he might've ended up in a prototype version of the holodeck technology he'd heard rumors of at Starfleet Command. He knelt down and felt around the ground for any indications of technology, but only ended up with a fistful of dirt and leaves. That would be far too advanced for the tech he'd only heard speculations about. He stood up confused, whirling around his environment to try and figure out where the hell he was.
He cautiously wandered for a few minutes, feeling every tree and leaf he walked by. It was strangely earth like, but Bones had learned long ago not to take any environment for granted. His heart rate spiked when he heard a distant…horn? Was that a horn?
He turned towards where he heard the sound and began cautiously jogging towards it. As he got closer, he also began to hear a distinctly inhuman growling, along with a cacophony of metal striking metal. As he rounded a cluster of trees, he was suddenly confronted with what looked like an army of…well he didn't know exactly what.
He watched as a human-like man wielded a sword, slicing it towards the growling creatures as they advanced. There were two smaller humanoids also, throwing rocks and other projectiles from a distance. Their clothes looked ancient, their weapons primitive and those larger beasts were anything but human. He'd somehow managed to stumble upon a battle in a society of medieval level tech.
He would say he was at a Ren Faire, but that was an Earth tradition. And he was thousands of lightyears from Earth.
The taller human fought well but was outnumbered. Bones was one more sword swipe away from drawing his blaster when his communicator beeped. He halted his stride forward and aggressively tore his communicator from his belt.
"Doctor? Doctor do you read me?" He heard Spock's distinctive voice echo through the speaker.
"Spock, where the hell am I?" He almost yelled, taking care to make sure his position was safely hidden behind a tree. He skipped the pleasantries and protocol for communication, and he was sure to get a lecture for it later. "One second I think I'm getting beamed back up onto the ship, the next I'm stranded in the middle of a forest, watching some battle-for-the-ages-type scene play out in front of me." He spat out.
"It appears, Doctor, that you've been transported to a different universe. We were able to trace your communicator signal, but the signature is highly irregular." The Vulcan didn't sound fazed, as if what he were describing wasn't crazy as all hell.
"Different universe…haven't we dealt with something like this before? I thought that time it was just a parallel universe, where things were similar, but not identical." He glanced back out at the battle. "There was no sword fighting or rock throwing then." Bones dryly remarked.
"There are many different worlds. The one we encountered before was a reflection of our own. The one you appear to be in is entirely separate from ours. A pre-warp society, it seems, based on your crude description." Spock spoke annoyingly slow, and Bone resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"You got quite the mouth on you, Mr. Spock." He mumbled. "Do we know how long until you can get me out of here?" He would worry about the how he got here later; he was rather more concerned with not getting stabbed in the gut by a longsword belonging to one of those creatures.
"Mr. Scott and I should be able to reverse the polarity of the hypertransis–" Bones cleared his throat.
"Spare me the details if you would. How long, Mr. Spock?" He insisted. There was a slight pause.
"My calculations would suggest approximately 10.47 minutes until the rewiring should be complete." His voice crackled through. Bones released some of the tension in his neck. He sighed.
"Keep me on the line, I guess." He grumbled. After a moment of silence, Bones's attention was drawn by the distinctive thwang of a bowstring snapping. He looked over and his stomach dropped.
The warrior he was watching earlier, the same one who'd been seamlessly cutting down the creatures as easy as ever, had just been shot in the chest. The battle seemed to stand still, as the man crumpled to his knees. Bones's breath left his body for a moment.
What happened next shocked Bones more. With an arrow sticking straight out of his chest, clearly battle weary and tired, the man shouted. He staggered to his feet and resumed fighting, swinging his sword once more. Bones forced his breathing back to normal, holding his sympathy and incredulousness back. He lifted his communicator again.
"Spock, do you read me?" He questioned. He watched as the same beast as before stalked towards the warrior.
"I do, Doctor." Spock responded smoothly.
"I mentioned the battle. There's a person here who's fighting in it, he's wounded. He's–" This time, Spock interrupted Bones.
"Dr. McCoy, I understand you may feel obligated to help the people you're observing. However, if your transmitter signal and your description of events are any indication, this society is rather primitive. They would not understand your presence or your intentions. The Prime Directive forbids your assistance." Bones couldn't disagree. His uniform alone would be enough to stir confusion.
He flinched as another arrow struck the man. Again, he sank to his knees and Bones clenched his fist around the tree branch he was holding. Surely, he would fall and Bones would hate himself for not stepping in.
And yet, the man swung his sword again, driving it through the back of one of those creatures. His perseverance alone was enough to give Bones all the incentive he needed, but it didn't take a genius to understand the man was trying to protect the other, smaller people; they looked to be children.
"He's an honorable man fighting to protect someone, that much is plainly obvious, Mr. Spock. He might even be their father for all I know. You're really asking me to stand aside?" Bones exclaimed. He flinched once more as a third arrow pierced the man's chest–he was running out of time.
Bones knelt down to the ground and opened his medkit to gather supplies. Three puncture wounds, possible internal bleeding. The treatment was trivial.
"Doctor. It is not our duty to interfere with societies which don't have access to the technology we do. We do not have the moral right to choose one man to save simply because it is convenient." Spock's tone remained cool.
"Oh, I can assure you, this is not convenient, Mr. Spock." He half-heartedly rebutted. He was loading the hypospray with cordrazine to stimulate tissue regeneration. He also made sure the dermal regenerator was powered on to close up the surface wounds.
"Dr. McCoy, I can understand your feelings but–"
"Mr. Spock, with all due respect, you do not." He glanced back up at the battle to gauge his time table. The two children were being carried off by the rest of the creatures; the man was kneeling in the middle of the clearing, his head drooping. Bones picked up his pace and calibrated the medical scanner.
"And it's not because of your pointy ears." He closed his medkit and readied his blaster, double checking to make sure it was set to stun.
"It's because you're not a doctor." The clearing was empty, save the one creature who held the bow and arrow.
"But I am. And dammit, I swore an oath." He stood from his position, holding his communicator up to his mouth.
"I intend to uphold it." He snapped the device shut, hooking it to his belt. With careful aim, he trained his blaster on the creature as it drew another arrow. He took a deep breath and fired.
It went down hard, crumpling at the knees onto the others of its kind who were scattered on the floor. The man watched with a shocked expression, and Bones stepped out from behind the tree. Weary from blood loss, the warrior fell backwards onto the ground and Bones rushed forward to tend to him.
"Alright, alright, just relax. You're gonna be fine." He knelt down, and set the medkit beside him. The man looked momentarily frightened, attempting to move; he was clearly too injured to do so, settling for staring at Bones with a look of confusion and fear.
"Who…are you." He sputtered, blood leaking from his mouth. The man looked at Bones's uniform and his brows knit together even more.
"I'm…" Bones hesitated. "I'm a healer. I can save you." Quick, blunt, don't leave much room for interpretation.
The man's breathing picked up as he coughed. "No healing can…remedy these wounds. I'm afraid you're too late." He whispered, his face getting paler by the second. Bones ignored his words as he opened the medkit and began cutting through the layers of fabric. He was careful not to disturb the arrows too much until the last possible second. He reached into his case and pulled out the hypospray.
"This isn't going to feel too good." He placed the needle onto the man's side and injected the cordrazine. The warrior called out, and Bones felt his pulse. It was slowing down, which was a good sign. The blood loss was letting up, and the cellular reconstruction was hopefully starting.
"What….what sorcery–" He coughed out, eyeing the device in his hand and glancing over to the medkit. Bones blinked at him, and elected to ignore his questions for the moment.
"Back away from him." Bones hair stood on end as he heard a voice from behind him. He slowly turned and saw another man, this one with darker hair and a dirtier figure. He held a sword inches from Bones face, and the doctor had to resist yelping once he saw it.
"I'm a healer. I'm trying to help him." Bones insisted, leaning so the sword wielder could see the extent of wounds to his patient.
"Boromir!" He called out and knelt down on the left side of the man, grasping his hand. At least Bones had a name to put to the face.
"They took….the little ones…." Boromir choked out. Bones pride stung, wishing he would've acted sooner. Even if he didn't have much of a chance against an army of those things, he might've been a distraction.
The dark haired man eyed Boromir up and down, before warily looking up at Bones. He made reluctant eye contact.
"You can save him?" He seemed to not notice Bones' odd appearance, or if he did, he didn't show it in his expression. Bones inhaled, as he reloaded the hypo with a neural paralyzer.
"I'm gonna try." With the device in his hand, this time the man's face contorted in confusion. Bones pretended not to notice.
"One more prick, and then you won't feel any pain." He remarked to Boromir, who simply nodded slightly. The two men grasped hands.
He injected the hypo into his side again, and Boromir's face scrunched in pain. He didn't call out though, and Bones was reluctantly impressed.
"We need to wait a few minutes for the paralyzer to take effect…I'm gonna check to see if these arrows have heads or not." He spoke, mostly, to himself, but soon realized the other man was giving him a questioning look as he stood up
"You are certainly unlike any healer I've met." He squinted. Bones mulled over in his head how to respond.
"I'm not from around here." He said quickly, hoping it would satisfy the man.
He walked over to the creature with the arrows, stepping around the other bodies with care. Bending down, he plucked one from the quiver and confirmed what he thought he saw earlier. Sharpened tips, no heads. Safe to pull out slowly, without causing more damage. With this new knowledge he went back over to his patient who was currently choking out words.
"Where…where is Frodo?" The paralyzer was slowly taking effect and soon he wouldn't be conscious. Bones thought to interrupt to tell him this, but thought it best to leave it.
"I let Frodo go." The other man stated sadly.
"Then you did what I could not." Boromir mumbled slowly. "I tried to take the ring from him." His eyes lolled backwards, and he fell into unconsciousness. This statement seemed to sadden the other man even more, but he soon looked worried at his friend passing out–his posture stiffened and he placed his ear on his chest to listen for breathing.
"Ah, don't worry about that. It's intentional." He interjected, and the man relaxed. "It's so he won't feel any pain." The dark haired man seemed to think this over. He nodded once, and leaned back. Bones figured he should explain his procedure at least a little, if only to avoid another sword in his face.
"I'm going to take the arrows out now and then I'm going to seal the wounds." He gestured to Boromir's body and was met with another quick nod. With that, Bones proceeded to take the regenerator from the case. He flicked it on a moment, the lasers gleaming with light, and he heard a slight gasp across from him.
"Such wizardry…" The man spoke barely above a whisper, clearly not intending to speak out loud. Bones ignored him and leaned forward.
He took a steadying breath and grasped one of the arrows. He pulled slowly, trying not to jostle any organs more than they already were. He threw it down and turned the regenerator on to seal up the wound. Once he'd finished, he noted how the man was staring bug-eyed, hand clenching on the hilt of his sword.
Bones hated the silence, and wanted to try and calm this man down. The last thing he needed was a high strung, sword-wielding, medieval knight carving him up for applying a bandaid.
He cleared his throat.
"What's your name?" He questioned, slowly extracting the second arrow; he was met with more resistance and slowed his pulling even more.
"Aragorn." He said, eyes not leaving Boromir's torso.
The arrow slipped from his chest, and Bones tossed it aside. He got back to work with the regenerator.
"I'm Leonard." He introduced, focusing on making sure all the layers of the skin were being grabbed by the lasers of the device. The wound sealed up nicely, and Bones got out his medical scanner to check the process of the cordrazine. Every organ that was pierced with the arrow was slowly being reformed, and Bones was satisfied enough to finish the procedure.
The last arrow was the shallowest so it came out fairly easily. By the time he'd finished sealing the last open wound, the scanner was indicating that any internal bleeding had ceased. Bones sat backwards to indicate he was finished.
"He should wake up in ten or so minutes. Any damage from the arrows should be repaired and there shouldn't be any risk for infection–" He trailed off at the look he was getting from Aragorn.
"What?" He accused.
"Who are you? Truly. Your sorcery isn't elven magic, and you speak unlike anyone I have met before." Aragorn stood up, and Bones sighed as he packed up his materials.
"Does it matter? I swore an oath to save people, and I did just that." He scratched the back of his head. "Who needs details?" He joked.
Aragorn squinted at him, unconvinced. Bones rolled his eyes and picked himself off the ground.
"Honestly? It really ain't anything you need to worry about. I'm just a traveler doing my job. However I can." Bones' tone was more insistent, and Aragorn finally relaxed his shoulders a bit.
"I'll be right back." Bones assured, before going off to contact Spock. It wasn't really necessary to show Aragorn yet another piece of "magic" technology again, so he made sure he was out of most humanoid species' hearing range.
He flipped open the communicator. "Spock, do you read me?" He asked. There was only static in response.
"Spock?" He asked again.
"I read you, Doctor." The Vulcan's voice crackled to life, after a moment of unnerving silence. Bones couldn't help the sigh that escaped him.
"Thank god. You thinking I'll be back soon?" He brushed the dead leaves off his pants.
"Indeed. It should only be a few moments now." Spock paused, and even Bones could sense his hesitance from the other end of the communicator.
"Doctor, I must know. Did you interfere beyond what the Prime Directive would allow?" He questioned.
"Yeah, yeah I did, you can lecture me later." Bones waved his hand dismissively. "Besides, if you wanna talk grand scheme, all I did was save one man. I'm pretty sure even your logical mind can figure out that can't have that large of an impact." He rebuffed.
"It's impossible to know the consequences of your actions without fully understanding the context of–" Bones groaned to interrupt him.
"I said you can lecture me later." He murmured into the device. He noticed Aragorn coming up to talk to him, and quickly shut the communicator.
"He seems to be stirring slightly. And from my look, he appears to be fine." The man had a hint of nobility in the way he spoke. Bones couldn't help but wonder who the hell they all were and what was actually going on.
But that wasn't his concern. His concern was helping the wounded, and he'd done that. He'd done the one thing he needed to do, and he could follow Spock's rules after that.
"I can't thank you enough. Boromir and I are in your debt." He half-smiled, clearly grateful. Bones barked out a laugh.
"No debts. I work for free." He quipped. "Just make sure his activity is light for the next day or so, at the least." When his communicator started beeping again, he slapped a hand over it to muffle the sound, hopefully fast enough to evade suspicion from Aragorn.
His eyes caught two figures approaching from over the hill; a taller man with a bow and long blonde hair, followed by a very short man with a helmet and red beard. Aragorn turned at their approach and walked over to converse with them.
Bones stepped behind a tree and opened his communicator again.
"Working?" He questioned.
"Yes. Energizing in five, four, three, two, one…" Bones shut his eyes, as the familiar chime rang through his ears. The lights shone brightly, and he was quickly and quietly whisked away from the forest.
AN:And let the butterfly effect ensue! Though I have no plans for how that would work.
Thanks to bookcrazysongbird for the idea 3
I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts.