Traycon and Fishey, this is going to be a sad story. Consider yourself warned :) It's going to be long too. I keep coming up with new stuff to add.
Chapter Three
"Wake up, Doctor."
"I wasn't asleep, you pixie. I was playing dead."
"Indeed. Doctor, you are bleeding." Spock did his best to remain impassive, but he yearned to get McCoy proper help, proper care. McCoy cursed and opened his medical pack for some fresh bandages.
"All that running must have opened it up again."
Spock turned his back in order to give McCoy some semblance of privacy.
"How did you escape?" McCoy said as he took off his pants and examined the blood-soaked bandages.
"I climbed a tree. Also, I brought some of the pods you enjoy."
"Thanks...hey Spock, I think I...need a little help here."
Slowly Spock turned, resolutely keeping his eyes on the embarrassed man's face.
"I'm trying to keep the sterile pad on and I can't re-wrap it with one hand," he muttered.
Silently, Spock approached, kneeling in front of McCoy. Though his medical training was limited, his wrapping was adequate. He remained kneeling while McCoy practically jumped back into his own pants, blushing furiously. Clearly the nature of their unique position had not been lost on him either.
They ventured into deeper forest covering, closer to the river and made their camp. Spock opened his own ration pack while McCoy built the fire. Eventually Spock handed the pack full of pods over to him. McCoy wordlessly accepted, not quite meeting his eyes.
An extremely awkward silence ensued.
"So...how did you find me so fast?" McCoy said, clearing his throat and skewering the soft end of a pod onto a sharp stick.
"May I remind you, Doctor, that my connection to your mind is stronger as a result of our melds."
McCoy skewered another pod and Spock ventured into humor.
"Also, I assume that even without the link, you would have eventually been complaining enough for me to find you."
There was no change in McCoy's face, disappointment in Spock's. He needed McCoy's humanity, his grit. That spark of passion in McCoy gave Spock an illogical hope that they could work their way out of any situation.
Now, Spock studied the sallow man in front of him. His shoulders sagged and while he was uncharacteristically quiet about his wound, Spock could almost taste the pain that rolled off of him.
McCoy held up the stick full of pods with a weak grin. "Hey. Shish-ka-bobs."
Spock allowed himself a small smile of encouragement. McCoy's mood seemed to have improved slightly.
"So this...thread is how you found me after my injury?" McCoy queried, putting the stick over the licking flames and rolling it between his palms.
"Essentially correct, though the connection between our minds was stronger because you were in pain." If Spock closed his eyes, he could still see the fear in his friend's blue eyes, the arrow shaft from a Bringer weapon protruding from the right thigh. He remembered how light McCoy had felt, how tightly he had gripped Spock's shirt as Spock ran all the way to a cave for safety. He remembered how he had melded with McCoy to keep him conscious while he operated on himself...
"Damn," McCoy said softly as the top pod caught fire. Pulling it out, he blew on it until it was just a smoking bit of charcoal. The scent burrowed into Spock's mind, ready to be filed under 'things he never wanted to experience again,'
"Damn," McCoy said again, but it didn't sound like him. There was no anger, no passion. That very spark that Spock so admired seemed to have been smothered under the weight of their trials.
"Spock, is there a way to make the link stronger? So that if something happened to you, I could find you?" McCoy said as he cracked open a smoking pod and blew gently on the contents to cool them.
Spock chewed his own rations thoughtfully. "It is unlikely. Even a full bonding would be wak for someone who is psy-blind."
"But it's possible."
"What exactly are you proposing, Doctor?" Spock's curiosity was aroused.
McCoy snorted at his word choice. "Well think about it, Spock. For a psy-blind human, we have a pretty strong connection, no?"
Spock nodded hesitantly.
"So then it stands to reason that I would probably be more receptive to a full meld."
"Doctor. Am I to assume you wish to bond completely with me?" Spock said, barely able to repress the curiosity he felt concerning McCoy's reasons.
"I'm speaking logically here, Spock," McCoy said with the air of someone with ruffled feathers.
"For everything, there is indeed a first time," Spock chided and was rewarded with a much-missed gleam in those blue eyes.
"Quiet you. It would be for the sole purpose of communication."
"I admit it would be fascinating to try to add logic to your emotional nature," Spock mused. McCoy grinned and leaned forward.
"However, I am concerned that you may not be able to handle the strain that comes with separation."
McCoy blinked in surprise and picked at the empty shell. "Your mother was bonded and didn't suffer any ill effects, did she?" he asked, opening another pod.
"Physically, no. However..." Spock hesitated, unsure of exactly how to phrase his sentiments. "When my father would leave, it was very difficult for my mother to cope with the decreased strength of the bond."
"The further away he was, the...what?"
"As far as she led me to understand, my mother believed that there as no greater pain than to be separated from my father. An effective bond is many-layered, Doctor. For it to be made, both minds must merge completely. There is no room for hesitation." He studied the other man for his reaction.
"Is that the warning label, Spock?"
Spock continued. "Also, a new bond is a fragile thing. In the semi-likely event of one of our deaths, the other mind may not survive in tact."
"Ever the optimist," McCoy groused, tossing the last of the pod shells away and pulling his arms behind his back.
"I am, in fact, a realist. May I also submit that your behavior the last few weeks has not been particularly encouraging?"
"I get that way when I'm scared, Spock. I distance myself. I run away." His eyes seemed darker now.
"This is why you want the bond. You fear being alone," Spock hazarded.
"I need something...to hold to, Spock, and you're the best damn thing I've got."
Spock watched firelight and emotions dance across McCoy's haggard face. Their eyes met and Spock was struck to the core by the bare need in his eyes, the longing for comfort. Not for the first time, Spock fervently wished that someone else were here, someone who could comfort McCoy...he felt he would do anything to make the pain in his eyes go away.
"I will meditate on your request, Doctor."
McCoy nodded and curled on his side. "Good night, Spock."
"Good night, Doctor."