Chapter 28: After the Examination

The Sickbay was cast in darkness.

It had been the first thing that Spock had asked of McCoy when he had awoken. Held down in restraints, the Doctor having had the fear that when the man bid unconsciousness goodbye he would not be pleased to discover where he was.

However, while McCoy had expected the Vulcan to ask for a setting more like his home world, he had surprised the human by asking for shadows instead.

The Vulcan was also not violent. Not then, at least. He had retained some bit of his usual coolness, casting a questioning look at the Enterprise's physician and then one at the bounds at his hands and feet.

"These will not hold me," the alien had said calmly. "You would be wise to move me to a higher security cell."

McCoy had agreed, freeing the bonds and leading the other man, not to a prison cell, he knew too much about Spock's condition now then to risk exposing the fact in so open and cruel a place. Instead, the two walked, odd in their serenity, to a secret place that the Sickbay had been equipped with under Kirk's orders.

Having entered the proper code, the wall raised revealing the cell. Spock raised an eyebrow surprised by the existence of the room. He walked into it and McCoy entered another code, causing a transparent sheet to fall down between them. The wall was secure, unbreakable by any weapon or any blow that the son of Sarek may administer to it.

Spock kept his back turned to McCoy, examining the room he was to be confined to for an undetermined length with a bland sort of curiosity.

"You have examined me?" Spock stated when he finally turned to look at the Doctor.

McCoy blushed, feeling the heat come to his face and grateful that the shadows would obscure it as best they knew how.

"Yes," he answered.

The first thing that the Doctor had done was to study the patient.

There were several things he could have done to the man while he had been asleep. A hundred paths his own curiosity could have led him to. And while other doctors may have done so, for the power that such knowledge of the half-human, half-Vulcan First Officer's anatomy would have given them, McCoy's own interest was far too motivated by his emotions. He could have traced any line, explored any usually hidden area of skin with fingertip or lips.

Yet he had not allowed himself this pleasure. He was too use to guilt, already, to invite anymore into his life.

Not when there were more important things to discern.

"You know what is wrong with me?"

"No," the southern gentleman answered truthfully. "I'm not sure. You're condition is far too… Far too alien to me, Spock. I don't understand how you can live in such a state so I won't be stupid enough to believe that I know what the Hell is wrong with you. But I know that there is something wrong. Your body is going to collapse from the strain. I know that much. You can't go on for much longer."

Spock simply nodded as bored as if he were listening to words he had heard often before or that had played out in his mind numerous times.

"Is there any chance that you would volunteer the answer to me?" McCoy asked. There was no anger to his voice. No irritation only a pleading quality that the Vulcan had never heard present before in the Doctor's usual tone.

"I am… I am in Pon Farr," Spock replied.

"Spock that means nothing to me," the other man sighed and the frustration returned to his voice. "You might as well have told me that you were transforming into a cat or ordering a Vulcan side dish."

The sound of the Doctor's voice betraying that he was flustered again brought a sudden quirk of the lips to the First Officer more than the analogy did.

It caught in McCoy's throat, stealing away his breath.

"Vulcans… Emotions are forbidden to us…" Spock started, hesitating as he looked for the right words for his confession. "Have you never wondered how we continue our race? For those who strive to avoid all baseness to engage in any carnality? Have you ever wondered what it is like for us?"

The notion was a common one for McCoy but the realization that this was what Spock was going through was staggering. The thought had never come to him, though now it seemed rather obvious.

"For all our progress, we still cannot escape what we once were. There is no time that reminds us more of this when we seek to carry on our own bloodlines, Doctor," Spock stated, with some trace of bitterness to his words. "This is how our race survives."

It made sense but a brutal sort, so contrasting to the usual image of the unfeeling Vulcan. It seemed a form of rape that a species that had tried to evolve from so primal a state had been forced to experience the full extent of the emotions they found so shaming. The urges of the body complete and unrelenting.

Was this nature's way of reminding them of what they had been? Was it one of God's jokes or revenge for neglecting the way He had made them to be.

There were no words for McCoy, only the strong concern he felt. He decided to avoid comment altogether, focusing on healing as his profession attracted.

"How can I help you?"

Spock lowered his head. "There is no way. The need must be met or I will perish."

"So then it is rape," McCoy thought without comfort.

"This is why I wanted to go back to Vulcan," Spock said. "To have the opportunity in secret to satisfy those needs."

"But Kirk wouldn't let you?" McCoy asked.

The Vulcan shook his head.

"You think that of all things Kirk would have understood that, at least," McCoy snapped.

"I didn't tell him why I needed to return," the First Officer said.

McCoy bit his lower lip. "Maybe if I explain."

"I doubt it would make much of a difference," Spock answered. "Kirk can be quite vindictive in certain… areas."

"But do you give me permission to discuss the matter with him?"

There was silence.

"There is no drug that you can make?" Spock asked.

McCoy violently shook his head. "No. I tried but… I'm not that good of a Doctor."

"You are the best that I have ever known," Spock replied.

"Don't go giving me unwarranted praise," McCoy shouted.

"And as always one of the most stubborn men I have ever met, as well."

This caused McCoy to smile almost against his will. "Look who's talking you devil browed menace."

Spock was silent. "You can ask Kirk. I doubt, however, that such a discussion will be fruitful."

"Don't count me out just yet," McCoy stated, hitting a button on the hidden console and letting the wall of paint and plaster hide the frowning Vulcan from his sight.