DISCLAIMERS: i do not own the Star Trek franchise nor any references made.

A/N: Alrighty, guys! Pushing this chapter right before Christmas! I was hoping for this chapter! Not my favorite favorite, but sure is the pivot point! Poor McCoy, out there in the hot deserts of Vulcan, how will he fair?! Let's find out!

Chapter 3: Storm of the Deserted

"A sandstorm is forming," Spock contemplated, looking at the dark clouds at a safe distance, "it is fortunate that they are being carried away elsewhere, lest I'd have to warn mother of its approach." He did not consider the thought of how he would have to protect himself, as he felt fully capable figuring something out, "I-Chaya and I have also gone through sandstorms together, so I trust in his instincts. However, considering the path is out of our usual route, I believe there is little chance he is going through such a strong storm."

The Vulcan continued onto his path, but when he was halfway through their usual walk route, and his mother had not yet called to inform him of I-Chaya's arrival, his calculated probabilities of his pet keeping their usual route lowered significantly. Spock stopped, and looked at the storm once again. Although it had grown, it was smaller due to the distance it was traveling. He reassessed his statistics and concluded there was a fifty-fifty chance of where his sehlat could have gone; on track or off-track. There was no way to truly chose, but something within him wanted to veer off their normal route. Illogical, but nonetheless, Spock shifted his bag to his other shoulder and moved off route to look for his sehlat.

"Kill me now lord I'm at your mercy," McCoy muttered as he dragged his feet through the sand dunes, "'Hotter than Vulcan', God, I understand now. It's probably hotter than the devil's balls here."

He looked at the water bottle he had been nursing for the past few hours, and has a strong urge to drink more, but he knew that if he over indulged he wouldn't last long. Heck, he had no idea how he was still even alive at this point. If he remembered correctly, the temperatures on this planet are high well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. He had endured hot temperatures back at Georgia, but he had greenery there and fruits and water, and… he let his thoughts stop there before he began to whine out loud. What he really wanted to do is collapse on his knees, but the sand dunes were so steep he'd probably lose footing and roll off the hill.

The hot winds seemed to be picking up, but it was hardly able to cool the sweat coating his skin. He glanced up to look for clouds- he vaguely wondered if that was even something that could happen in the scorching planet, rain- and cocked his head in confusion at a dark line at the horizon, "What in the world is that?" he muttered, shifting the weight of his bag to his other arm. He frowned, "I'll be damned if I know what that is. Looks to me like a thunder storm," he chuckled to himself, "too bad there aren't any oceans nearby or else…" he paused in realization, "That's a sandstorm." Sweet Georgian peaches I'm as good as dead.

He began to panic, pacing back and forth. Sure, the storm was far now, but it would come, and it would come sooner than McCoy could even get halfway back to the shuttle, which, he'd admit, he had no idea how to get back to. There was nothing to hide behind or anything to grip on to. He wasn't an extreme light-weight, but he wasn't massive either. That wind could carry him through the desert like tumbleweed. I should have stayed in that shuttle..!

Even at his given distance, he could feel the winds starting to pick up. He grabbed the blue tunic that he had around his neck and tied it over his mouth and nose. He felt his bare skin being pelted by the small grains of sand. "The thing's coming whether I like it or not," McCoy growled into his shirt, "so my top priority should probably be protecting my goods," he shifted the black shirt again, placing it closer to his chest in a protective grip. However, as he did, he tripped on the sand and began to tumble down the large dunes.

"Whoa!" He cried out. He hugged his rations closely as he rolled down for what felt like an eternity. "Jesus," he coughed as he landed in a valley of two dunes, "I hope this sand's not toxic; I've inhaled my body's weight of this junk by now."

The doctor shifted in the sand as he stood up. The wind kept increasing and hadn't lessened as picked up some of his rations that were dropped from his fall. Once he finished, he made his climb up the dune. He paused, "Maybe I can hide behind the dunes? If I stay on top of one, I may be easily carried away," he was about to climb down, but then shook his head, continuing his pace, "Nope, never mind, I may be buried alive in sand. I'd rather be flung around in sand and land on top of it than to never be found under it." He shivered at the thought of being buried alive.

Once he was above the dune, Leonard had to face away from the winds of sand; it was pelting him far too strongly. He vaguely noted that the sky was beginning to darken as the sand around him began to thicken. He looked up and all he saw was swirling smoke and dust. To his amazement, and fear, he heard thunder claps. Electric sandstorm, just his luck… He hugged his bag tightly and kept walking forward, his balance wavering due to the winds. He prayed to God he'd live through this. Closing his eyes, he pushed forward, only occasionally looking down to make sure he wouldn't fall off the top of the dunes. The thundering got louder and louder and McCoy's ears roared as one particular thunder clap dragged on for almost thirty seconds; its sound never lessening. He hugged his rations tightly, but fell backwards from the force of the wind. He regrettably could not find the energy to stand up.

"You're being assigned to a ship?!" McCoy looked up from his PADD at Jim Kirk, who had slammed open the door and stomped straight to his bed. Such a disruptive roommate, "Now who went and blabbed that? Or did you look it up?"

Kirk crossed his legs, making himself comfortable on his bed, "Not important, Bones."

Leonard sighed, "Yes, I'm being assigned. I hadn't much training to do as a doctor, so most of the classes I had were mostly related to regulation of the fleet. I graduated early."

His friend pouted, "You can't. You're supposed to be assigned to MY ship."

"Jim, you have another year until you graduate," McCoy stated, "besides, the only reason I accepted it was because it would only be for one year. I know Pike has his heart set on putting you on our first five-year mission. I'll be back in time for you to shove me into your tin can."

His friend still didn't seem to accept the answer, "I just thought we'd start our first mission… together."

Bones scrubbed his roommate's head, "This isn't a matter of firsts, Jim. Besides, you think I won't keep in contact? I'll message you every day, how's that, kid?"

Jim playfully slapped off McCoy's hand, snickering, "I can only imagine what you'd say. 'Disease and danger everywhere Jim!', 'The Andorian shingles are spreading, Jim!', 'Jim, I heard a funny noise I swear this ship is about to blow up in the middle of space', 'Communication was down on that planet for ten seconds Jim, I swear that ship abandoned us!'"

"I don't appreciate that one bit, Jim," McCoy answered dryly. Kirk laughed, and all the doctor could do from laughing with him was roll his eyes.

Jim grasped his shoulder, "Just promise you'll come back to MY ship, okay? None of the whole," he gestured vaguely, "dying business."

"I can't assure you that," Bones scoffed, "disease and danger, remember?"

Sorry Jim, McCoy thought weakly. The most he could do was hope his body was found so that that his fellow officer Raja could get his note back to his family. Right now, all he could do was lay down. He was dehydrated, but he didn't have the energy to grab one of the bottles he had left. Wind was still blowing sand everywhere, but it wasn't strong enough to lift him off the ground.

"Water…" he whispered, his eyes shut tightly. It was at that moment that he felt something large and wet slide across his face. It was pleasantly cool, yet oddly disturbing. On that note, he no longer felt pelted by the sand winds, yet he could still hear the roaring of the air. The wet thing continued to move across his face and then to his exposed skin; it felt like a large moist, yet rough rag, cleaning him up. Had someone save him?

"Thank you," he murmured, gratefully. He tried to crack one eye open, but the rag moved to his face again. McCoy was simply going to relax until he felt his bag being tugged from his arms. Immediately, he sat up, "Wait!" he cried out in panic. The tugging had stopped, but the doctor took no notice as he made eye contact with his supposed savior.

It was the largest bear he's ever come across. Honestly, it's the only bear he's come across. Just, in human scale, it was significantly larger. Leonard stared at it dead in the eyes; they were dark brown beads. He quickly broke eye contact, what if he considered that a challenge?

The large animal huffed at him and began to sniff him. McCoy tried to steady his breathing, but he wasn't sure he could. He noticed that bear had two things in his mouth, but upon closer inspection, he realized that they were fangs. Like a saber tooth, but these things were basically 6 inches long. That was just his luck wasn't it, jumping from one danger to the next.

He tried to slide away slowly, but a giant paw landed on his leg. Not painfully so, but enough from keeping him from moving. McCoy felt himself start getting dizzy from dehydration and fear. He couldn't really just reach for a water bottle right now with this thing sitting pretty right in front of him. A thunder clap pulled him out of his muse, and he flinched at the intruding noise. He was still in the storm. Noting this, he looked at the bear again, and he seemed to be protecting him with its body. The animal let out a breathy yawn, and licked its lips. It seemed harmless enough, but he wouldn't know for how long. The bear leaned his head closer and licked him with his large tongue.

Oh lord, that wasn't a wet rag earlier, was it?

The bear tried to grab his bag again, and McCoy blinked, does he want the rations? He opened his bag and pulled out three granolas. As he tried to open one, the giant bear took it and ate it. McCoy gave a startled grunt; fearing the thing was aiming for his hands, but then made a scowl; his fear of the creature defeated by his concern over its health.

"Now listen here, pal, you ought to watch what you put in your mouth," he pointed at the creature, who was still chewing on the food, "You can't eat the wrapper, I don't know if you can digest that. Honestly, I'm praying you can digest the food itself."

He saw some of the wrapper in the corner of the bear's mouth, and began to tug on it, but the bear clamped his mouth tighter, and began to tug back. His pulling was not aggressive. In fact, once McCoy stopped tugging, so did the creature. As though probing, the bear pulled slightly and waited for Leonard to tug again. The man gave a slight chuckle, "Why, you're just a playful little bugger aren't you? I'm not playing tug-o-war here, pal, just need you to NOT eat this wrapper. It's no good for you."

Hesitantly, he attempted to stroke the bear's chin. The creature closed its eyes and relaxed enough to slide the wrapper out of its mouth. "Aha!" He stated cheerfully, but the bear didn't seem to care; his attention mostly toward the ministrations the doctor was giving him. He pet the animal for about a minute until he stopped in favor of quickly opening the second wrapper. Tossing it in the bear's mouth, the creature was easily distracted with the food. McCoy took this moment to open the cap of his water bottle and took a sip, eyeing the creature's large fangs.

"I've got a feeling I'm going to have to ration for two."

The bear glanced up at him as he licked his lips and dragged his paw- as well as McCoy- closer to himself, "whoa, wait, listen here, you, I'm a doctor, not a teddy bear...!," he paused in confusion, considering the irony of the situation, "just keep those fangs away!"

Instead of being biting him, however, the bear laid closer and curled up the man against his stomach. Leonard looked around him and realized the bear was basically protecting and grounding him from the blunt of the winds. The winds seemed to be stronger than earlier, too. Yet he was sitting in a protected spot under the bear before him. He glanced back at the bear, already seeming to fall asleep, and finally snuggling closer, "I may not be a teddy bear," he whispered as his eyes began to droop, "but you sure seem to be."

Even through the heat and thick fur, Leonard was relaxed enough to fall asleep too.

A/N: gwaahhh teddy bear reference! Sehlats are usually aggressive if you don't feed them, but I'm sure I-Chaya had a nice meal before this? Or knows how to find it. And Jim, I couldn't help it. I don't necessarily ship those two (although I don't mind reading an occasional fic of those two) but in the face of death, I feel like Bones would think of the only person in his life who'd never walk out on him. His best friend. More to proceed later! No more lonely chapters (except for Spock poor bby I will care for you smol Vulcan child...!)