Here is chapter four!
"Wake up, Doctor."
"Spock, the damned sun is still up," McCoy said, blinking his eyes into adjustment against the brightness.
"Yes Doctor, the 'damned sun' is still up. However I have decided to agree to your request," he said calmly.
"The meld." McCoy sat up quickly, fully awake. He climbed to his feet.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the river to bathe. I can't smell like this on what is essentially my wedding day."
Spock opened his mouth to reply, but could think of no response. While he waited for McCoy to return, Spock eyed the area surrounding him dispassionately. The land was hard and dry from too little rain. There had been times when he and McCoy had been forced to seek shelter from the dust storms that rolled like waves across an ocean. It was very much like Spock's own world, yet somehow, despite the dry conditions, trees still flourished.
His attention was drawn back to the sight of McCoy walking up the hill. Drops of water still clung to his chest and he carried his dirty shirt in one hand. The other was combing through his hair, shaking out the last touches of the river.
He plopped cross-legged onto the ground in front of Spock and grinned. "Well, let's get to it."
Spock grimaced internally. "While I realize this must be a foreign concept to you, Doctor, we must first attempt to calm and focus your mind in preparation for the meld."
"So what do I do?"
"Find an object on which to focus." Spock's own eyes closed. McCoy selected an odd-looking stick in the ground.
"Doctor?"
"Ssh, Spock. I'm contemplating."
"On what are you focusing?"
"A stick," he replied matter-of-factly.
"I can still feel your thoughts. Your mind is, at best, a sandstorm. At least attempt to give yourself focus." Spock observed the man for a moment before closing his eyes again.
McCoy made a face at Spock and scanned the area around him for a new object of focus. Feeling a bit like a student cheating on an exam, he whispered "Hey Spock, what are you contemplating?"
A small, almost undetectable sigh. "I am contemplating the nature of peace, Doctor."
"I'm not helping, am I?"
"No."
Finally, after much struggling, McCoy's eyes happened upon their old friends and he immediately slipped into focus.
Spock made no movement to betray him, but he felt the rush of McCoy's mind slow to the equivalent of a peaceful, lazy river. He could now enter his mind without danger of being lost.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw that McCoy had cocked his head to the side in contemplation, deeply engrossed in the study of his ears.
"Doctor?"
"Mmm?"
"I am ready to begin the meld."
McCoy dragged his attention to Spock's face.
Carefully, Spock placed McCoy's fingers over his katra points, then mirrored the action with his own movements. McCoy's fingertips on his forehead were mostly for ceremony since, being nearly psy-blind, he could do little to reciprocate the meld.
"My mind to your mind," Spock began, feeling the first hum of McCoy's thoughts enter his mind.
"My thoughts to your thoughts." Somehow the correct words found their way out of McCoy's mouth.
Spock braced himself for the onslaught of emotion and thought that was sure to come with a deeper meld, but McCoy's control was stronger than Spock gave him credit for. Entering his mind was much like slipping into a comfortably warm bath. Spock relaxed and felt McCoy further open his mind.
He sifted through his childhood, his Academy years, his doomed marriage and his days on the Enterprise. He admired the devotion McCoy had to his job, the care he put into each test, each patient. Finally Spock found himself and braced for feelings of resentment and annoyance. What he found surprised him.
Inside McCoy's oddly organized mind was an equivalent of a shrine to their friendship. He could sense the regret McCoy had for some of his wayward comments, could sense the fierce loyalty that clung to their ties.
Finally Spock came to a dark, shut-off corner of McCoy's mind. He mentally chided the Doctor and, with exceedingly irritating reluctance, McCoy allowed him into the darkness.
The weight of it hit him like a punch in the stomach. Here were all of McCoy's doubts, his fears. His fear that they would never get off the planet. The doubt that he was too weak to last much longer and the quiet, but ever-present murmur of a voice saying "Just step back, Leonard. Just give up. Rest. Sleep. All will be well if you sleep."
With more force than necessary, Spock shut away these feelings and finished his end of the meld. Now he coaxed McCoy's mind into his own and showed him his memories, his feelings. Finally when the final seeds of the bond had been sown, Spock spoke.
"Parted and never parted."
"Never and always touching and touched," came McCoy's shaky reply.
Their eyes opened at the same time as the bond broke.
"Spock," McCoy gasped, trembling with the intimacy of the newly-forged bond.
"Rest, Doctor," he said soothingly, troubled by his own disorganized thoughts. "Let your mind rest. I will be here."
McCoy nodded and fell asleep, the new bond that tied him to Spock keeping him safe at least for this night.
Now that I'm moved into my dorm, there will be much more fanfic writing! As always, I love reviews. Thanks for reading.