Title: Asclepius Revisited
Author: Still Waters
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing, with love and respect to those who brought these characters to life.
Summary: 76 McCoy episodes. 76 McCoy-centric reflections, codas, and missing scenes.
Notes: Thank you for all the kind reviews of the previous chapter! There's a brief scene near the end of "The Galileo Seven" that really grabbed my attention upon re-watch. It's a few lines of dialogue between McCoy and Spock just before the shuttle is about to burn back up in the atmosphere after Spock's last-ditch rescue effort. There's such peace in McCoy's demeanor, such a wealth of emotion and history in their interaction, even as they don't face one another. I found myself immediately writing this piece before even finishing the last few minutes of the episode. Dialogue quoted in this chapter is from the episode and does not belong to me. I hope I did the characters justice. Thank you for reading. I truly appreciate your support.
14.
It was Scotty, bless him, who put it all together, giving voice to what Spock - both in the action and its aftermath - could not: a last-ditch distress signal, like sending up a flare. A good gamble, indeed.
And now, ten seconds to atmosphere.
No need to worry about burials anymore, not the way they were going. Yet McCoy, for all his old country doctor earthiness, had always found some comfort in the concept of 'dust to dust', in his individual elements being repurposed to create innumerable new life. Did he want to die today, like this? Not particularly. But McCoy and death were far from strangers and so, despite everything that had happened on the planet, he could honestly say he was at peace. The Vulcan half of Spock would find death a logical part of life, his impending end the equally logical result of a decaying orbit. But in their last few seconds of life, McCoy turned his focus to the human half; the half that had left Spock sitting almost shell-shocked after his impulsive action to ignite the fuel.
"It may be the last action you'll ever take, Mr. Spock." McCoy's smile was gentle, the words calm, prodding yet without demand. "But it was all you," he finished, voice catching on words brimming with fondness, reverence, and pride.
Spock was at a loss, his back to McCoy. He shook his head, the response simply stated yet tinged with bewilderment and something near disappointment. "Totally illogical. There was no chance."
McCoy's smile, if possible, grew even fonder. It was just the response he had expected….until it became something far more telling. In their last breaths, it wasn't about 'I told you so' - it was about the joy of seeing something rare and precious, the sound of an acknowledgment – no matter how unintended or uncertain - of a deeply hidden part of a whole: Spock's humanity. "That's exactly what I mean," McCoy said with a soft, almost private, gratitude and pride, as death came to greet them.
I knew you had it in you.
I'm proud to have known you, my friend: the Vulcan, the human…..
….All of you.