Chapter 27: Found

The place was dark yet hot and dry. It smelt of piss and sex and every smell that was known to man. McCoy was use to them all, having been a Doctor for many years and witness to all the body offered up for its existence. Why anyone would choose the storage dock for a rendezvous wasn't easily understood by McCoy but then illicit trysts did not usually rely on comfort nor was the body altogether patient when concerning needs and satisfaction.

Part of McCoy also knew that Spock must have been drawn to the place not only for its supposed seclusion but the heat of it. From what he had heard Vulcan was hot as Hades and this must have been part of its appeal to the First Officer.

Spock had sought leave from the Enterprise. He had dragged that much from Officer Kaylek, the guard whom Spock had given to him. After McCoy had taken the pains while searching the Sickbay for what he planned and hoped he didn't need to use, he had grabbed an extra needle and a formula. He had been working on it for quite some time. It was a truth serum. Having witnessed the pain Spock had suffered while prodding Bailey's mind, McCoy had sought to find another source of dragging truth from those who kept secrets. It would prevent Spock from having to use the Vulcan mind meld and in the process make himself so terribly vulnerable. The Doctor didn't have a clue if it would work or not but Kaylek would be as good a test subject as any. McCoy had figured and it wasn't terribly dangerous.

Not much anyway.

The physician had believed it necessary to find out as much information he could before going down to the storage dock. Mentally, he had made a reminder to tell the Vulcan how easily it had been to inject the guard with the fluid and wait patiently for it to work. It had been embarrassingly simple for a guard of such high rank. McCoy only hoped that the problems Spock was facing would not be insurmountable and he would be given the chance to tease the Vulcan about this fact at all.

One of the other information that McCoy had been able to pry from the guard was the fact that Spock had managed to make contact with his father, Sarek, before his disappearance. The human could only guess at how poorly the discussion must have went. That this event, Sarek's apparent failure for his son, had driven Spock to the Sickbay and coaxed from the man a final plea to McCoy for reassurance that he could trust him went hand in hand. The Doctor knew that he had been no better than Sarek but without the tie of family. But then from what McCoy had seen exhibited from Spock and the varied accounts he had heard there was no such existence of family on Vulcan. There was only ritual and history.

Knowing this made Spock's turning to him seem all the more pathetic to McCoy and his own ineffectiveness all the more damning. There was nothing he could do, however, to take that moment back and it would do Spock no good to dwell on it so McCoy vowed to himself that he would never let the Vulcan down again.

Kaylek was waiting by the lift, McCoy having told him to wait promising him plenty of motivation to linger, though he should have wanted to keep an eye on his target anyway. Another tidbit that McCoy had drawn from the man had been that Spock, in as confusing a state that he was in, had made it clear to the guard that he was to protect the Enterprise's Doctor no matter what. The incentive had been paid out immediately, whether Spock returned or not and the First Officer had stressed the point that if he or any of his own guards heard any whisper or talk that McCoy was harmed during his absence an agony booth had been reserved for Kaylek.

McCoy's own reasons for bringing the guard had nothing to do with his own safety. He had known that with the state Spock may currently be in he would not go willingly. That was the reason why the Doctor had stopped at the Sickbay first and why his pocket was no longer empty and the agonizer he usually refused to carry was now gripped firmly in his hand.

The area was dark, probably too dark to resemble the planet Vulcan in this respect, having mainly to rely on the heat.

It was silent too. Maybe this too, though, was similar to the place of Spock's birth, McCoy mused, his feet falling carefully on the floor. It was a planet filled with nothing but the starvation of emotions, a place where the primary action was contemplation. For a moment, the Doctor wondered if they ever sang on Vulcan or did they design, instead, beautifully crafted instruments to form notes and chords, instead of voice, which could falter or become hoarse. It was something he would need to ask Spock about.

A sound to his left made McCoy stumble.

"Spock?" he cried out his voice hushed.

Only silence was given.

Making his way to where the sound had come from, nonetheless, McCoy almost tripped over a box. He managed to catch himself, preventing himself from

"Dammit!" he exclaimed.

This was the Doctor's last word before the wind was knocked out of him by Spock , who pounced on the unsuspecting man as a tiger would claim its prey.

McCoy fell to the floor his head beating against it. He would have cried out in pain except Spock's hand had returned to the position they had been in the last time they had seen each other: placed firmly around his neck, pressing against the bruises he had already made. Another pain added to the last caused another cry to be borne from the Doctor and stifled yet again.

In response, he chose action instead, bringing his knee up he hit the Vulcan in the groin and caused the hold to be loosened. While Spock was put off balance, not particularly from pain but from shock, McCoy grabbed the agonizer that had fallen fortunately to his side. Pressing it against the man before him, McCoy mumbled an apology before turning it on to full energy. Even at this power, McCoy feared it would fail to work against the Vulcan physiology. Some of his human ancestry must have been working to his advantage, however, McCoy felt as he watched Spock yell and jerk. Wasting no time, knowing it was to Spock's benefit not to, from his pocket the human pulled another needle, already filled with serum. Thanking God that it had not broken from the impact of the struggle, McCoy moved himself to the Vulcan's back and plunged the needle into the broad shoulders.

Screaming, one of Spock's hands reached to his back where the needle was. The needle was broken from the sheer strength of the alien. Quickly, Spock, anger in his eyes, rose to his feet and stared at the human.

"Oh great ," McCoy muttered and backed away.

Spock looked at the man before him, clearly in rage, unadulterated and set free after years of being restrained and held captive. That he had not spent so concentrated form of elation on him, not even Sulu having seen its extent, made McCoy strangely happy. That it was only hate and not love in any way, hurt the Doctor in a way he had never been wounded before.

"Spock," McCoy whispered.

Hearing the name, Spock seemed to hesitate for a moment, the rage vanishing into confusion.

"Spock…" McCoy said. "I love you."

The Doctor did not know if the Vulcan had heard the words he barely had been able to say. Spock had been halfway to the floor before McCoy had finished the whispered confession, the drug finally having taken its effect.

McCoy waited seconds before walking to the unconscious First Officer. He knelt at first, touching the man's damp and oily hair, then sitting down next to him, stroking the man's cheek, tracing the shape of his lips. He knew that there was little time to waste but allowed himself that one brief and quiet moment with Spock before calling to the guard, waiting patiently by the lift, to get his ass over there.