The day had already been irritating as hell. It was the kind that had Leonard McCoy wishing he'd stayed in bed.
With his kind of profession, however, that had never really been an option. Not in med school, not as a top surgeon, and never in Starfleet.
"Hand me that sample, will you, Spock?"
Even the Vulcan seemed to be moving sluggishly, if one could believe it. Though barely detectable to the untrained eye, Leonard had served alongside the first officer long enough to learn his mannerisms; to know when something was off.
It's this damn day. That's what's off.
The morning had started with a systems malfunction in several parts of the ship, including medbay, which had been fixed mere minutes before they arrived at their destination. The Federation planet called Gellis in the Beta Quadrant that had recently discovered a potential new fuel source and required a more high tech science team to analyze the test samples.
Enter the U.S.S. Enterprise, the closest available starship.
Why are we always the only ones within range? Leonard shook his head, vowing to keep his grumbling to himself this time. After all, the job got them off the ship for a while. Normally, this wouldn't have appealed to him, but it was a relief to leave the chaos of the last few hours behind for even a brief moment.
If only they had been properly informed.
In hindsight, Leonard would look back and note that most tragedies occurred because the disaster victims weren't informed; weren't warned until it was too late.
And when he felt the first tremor, Leonard knew it was too late.
What he wouldn't give for a working transporter right about now, but his least favorite Enterprise technology was still under repair from that morning's malfunction.
The second tremor threatened to knock him off his feet even before the first one had run its course.
"What the hell?"
They had to get out of the building. Leonard's mind screamed at him to get out, get out!
Spock seemed to have the same idea, ushering the rest of the Enterprise team toward the door.
One ensign was trying to collect important samples and other crucial pieces of work.
"No time for that!" Despite her protests, Leonard pushed the science officer out the door.
It certainly would've been nice to know before they set up shop that Gellis was prone to sporadic earthquakes.
In the main hall, the Gellican Science Center bustled with an organized chaos Leonard couldn't describe. Beings rushed about, some headed for the exit while others aided their distracted colleagues in evacuating.
If they could only get to the shuttle, then—
Just get out of the building first, he told himself, feet pounding across the floor to the beat of his racing heart. Then you can worry about getting off the planet.
Deep down, something nagged at him: the fact that, no matter the circumstances, he wouldn't be able to leave the planet. Not until the wounded were taken care of and a proper medical team had arrived on site.
Doctors couldn't flee like everyone else, they had an instinct to help, to fix what was broken or die trying. Sometimes, Leonard cursed this instinct, but when all was said and done, he wouldn't have it any other way.
And wouldn't standing back and doing nothing fall under the umbrella of 'harm' in 'do no harm...?'
"Are all accounted for?" Spock's voice held a slight strain to it, yanking Leonard out of his runaway train of thought.
They both had paused at the exit and Leonard began scanning their fleeing shipmates.
"Yeah, I think—Wait, where's Sasha?"
Now on high alert, Spock joined him in scanning the crowd. "Ensign Cormack went on break seven and a half minutes ago to explore the facility. If she is using her head, to borrow the human expression, she will no doubt locate the nearest exit as soon as possible."
"And if she's hurt," Leonard countered, "she'll need help. Get everyone else out, I'll be right back."
The footsteps following close behind him as he dashed off into the crowd told Leonard that his orders had not been followed. However, Spock did technically outrank him. So…
It still didn't make the situation any less frustrating. Someone had to make sure the rest of the team got safely away from the building and that someone should've been Spock.
Instead, here they both were, running headfirst back into danger to search for someone who may or may not already have gotten to safety.
Having second thoughts?
Gritting his teeth, Leonard pressed forward. If there was even a miniscule possibility that she was lying injured somewhere, he had to check it out. He'd never be able to live with himself if he didn't.
The third tremor knocked him off his feet, sending rockets of pain through his knees as he crashed to the floor. Spock went down shortly after—he could tell by the dull thud that echoed nearby. Or maybe that's just pieces of the building coming down around you…
He thanked his brain for this lovely thought before shoving himself back on his feet. At least, he tried to. The ground was as unsteady as an old fashioned wagon on a brick road and Leonard couldn't seem to find any traction.
The shaking only got worse from there, twisting and turning the world until Leonard couldn't tell which way was up and which was down. It was then that the universe decided to give him a hint: that way was down. He could tell because it was the direction in which he soon found himself tumbling as the floor ripped open and swallowed them both whole.
Everything after that was a blur of all his senses fighting to have their say at once. His skin registered nothing but pain as his eyes made attempt after vain attempt to piece together a clear picture of the chaos. His nose was assaulted by an earthy stench while the taste of copper filled his mouth.
He must've bitten his tongue or something…
The last thing he remembered before the darkness made its fashionably late arrival was the sound of Spock calling his name.
Coming, Spock.
I'll be right there…
Thump.
We're losing him, nurse…
Thump.
How? I'm getting a steady pulse.
Thump.
Doctor, try harder.
Thump.
Doctor…
Thump.
Leonard.
Thump…
The sluggish beat of his heart was what pulled him awake. Or maybe it had been his nurse…
No sleeping on the job, McCoy.
He felt his eyes open, yet he might as well have kept them shut for all the good it did. Pitch black either way.
Maybe his eyes would adjust…
Thump.
"Leonard!"
Only… that didn't sound like any nurse he knew. It sounded more like—
"…Spock?" His voice didn't sound right when he forced out the name. It sounded garbled, distant. If his ears stopped ringing, maybe it would go back to normal. Or maybe your voice is broken.
How even—?
He couldn't recall ever hearing Spock sigh in relief, but the sound the Vulcan made was probably the closest Leonard would ever come to hearing it.
"Are you all right?"
Leonard blinked, trying in vain to make out something, anything, in the darkness. "What happened?"
The obvious answer to such a question. Well done, McCoy.
If he could see, Leonard would've guessed Spock had just raised a brow. Typical.
"What do you remember, Doctor?"
It came rushing back to him then, faster than his brain knew what to do with the memories.
The earthquake. Sasha. The ground eating them alive…
Leonard bit back a groan. "More than enough to know we're screwed."
"That is one way to put it, yes." A shuffle echoed off the thick wall of black. Spock was moving around…
That was a good idea. Start finding a way out of here.
The moment he shifted, white hot pain shot through his leg. He bit down on his cry as soon as his lagging mind registered the sound, but it was too late. No way Spock didn't hear that…
"Doctor, are you—?"
"Fine, Spock," he shoved out through clenched teeth. "Just… give me a minute."
Stilling his body took more effort than Leonard cared to admit. He wanted more than anything to sit up and inspect his leg, but one wrong move would send him tumbling into a black hole of pain. The spots still danced in front of his eyes and he didn't know if he could handle another wave and retain consciousness.
Lying still, though uncomfortable, was his best course of action, so he tightened his jaw and fought the urge to yank his leg out from underneath whatever beast of debris was holding it captive.
"Doctor?"
Right. Leonard had gotten so caught up in regulating his breathing that he'd almost forgotten his companion.
"My leg's pinned down," he explained, voice lacing with pain despite his attempts to hide it. Spock already knows, so what's the point?
The point was to maintain an air of calm so he didn't send himself or his Vulcan counterpart into a panic attack.
Leonard snorted. Sure. When pig's fly.
Still, Spock's own voice held a certain edge to it that betrayed a sense of… apprehension, Leonard would call it for now.
"Is something funny, Doctor?"
Okay, sure. Small talk for the win. It's not like we have anything better to do.
Because as of that moment, he was trapped under debris that felt heavier than the whole building itself and he didn't plan on trying to move any time soon.
"Just thinking."
There was that brow raise again. Why could Leonard hear it? Did he really know that Vulcan that well?
"I presume you aren't going to share your thoughts?"
"Nope." His tightening throat was making it hard to concentrate, but Leonard pressed on. The sooner they could get this over with, the better. What over with? Death? Amputation? Nothing short of amputation would get him out of there alive. At least, that's what his brain kept trying to convince him.
"How about you? Status report, Mr. Spock. You all right?"
"No injuries to report," came the slightly delayed response.
Leonard scoffed, an action for which he instantly cursed himself when the pain shot through his body.
All right. So don't move, don't scoff, don't laugh probably…
Biting back a groan, he stared down the patch of darkness that was Spock's voice. "Vulcan or not, you couldn't have fallen down here without getting at least a few scrapes. Now, try again."
"Breathing is…" Spock said after a moment, "…more difficult than it should be, but not entirely impossible. I suspect a few broken ribs."
"A few?"
"One or two at the very least, maybe more."
Great. And here he was, pinned down under some dumb piece of debris while the doctor in him itched to get out there and see to Spock.
He'll be fine. People have lasted longer without medical treatment.
Looking at you, Jim.
Jim…
The thought struck him faster than he could find the words to match it.
"Spock, do you still have your communicator?"
"It would seem…" And Leonard wasn't particularly liking the tone of Spock's voice. "…that we are either too far underground or something is interfering with the comm signals."
Meaning, he already tried. Damn it.
That was fine, they could still figure this out. First things first…
"All right, well, let's work on something else, then. Being trapped under this thing is getting old."
The brief rustling should have prepared him better, yet Spock's touch still startled Leonard and he jolted.
He couldn't clamp down on the yelp in time.
"My fault," he forced out through clenched teeth before Spock could say a word. "'S my fault, Spock, I shoulda anticipated you…"
Breathe. Just—
But, as Spock so eloquently put it, breathing was beginning to be more difficult than it should, and for a moment, Leonard second-guessed as to whether the debris was merely crushing his leg or his entire body.
You're fine. You've been through worse. You'll be—
The numbness infiltrated his veins, gnawing at his skin and briefly distracting from the white flash of pain that was to come. He barely had time to register that Spock had lifted the debris as a new kind of pain became his entire world.
With a cry he couldn't help even if he had known that the sound was coming from him, Leonard curled onto his side, hands closing protectively around his leg.
This had to be what death felt like…
"Doctor?" The rare amount of worry coating Spock's tone pierced the wall of pain and brought Leonard back to reality.
"I didn't—" He gasped, his lungs working overtime to suck in the air they so desperately needed. "Coulda given me a… a warning or somethin'…"
"My apologies." My apologies is right. "I had thought it was a human custom to do a thing like that in a timely, unexpected manner so as to minimize any preceding anxiety. To 'rip it off like a bandaid,' so to speak."
"Yeah?" Leonard almost laughed. "And who told you that?"
He could practically picture the classic brow raise and Spock's signature smirk.
The kind where his face stays the same, but you just know he's smirking by the way his eyes flash and that ever-so-subtle twist of his lips that no one can make out unless they really know him and, gosh, am I one of those people now who really know him—?
Shut up.
Leonard squeezed his eyes shut, willing his frazzled mind to still. Peace. He just needed peace for a moment. Then maybe the pain would fade away.
Right. Keep dreaming.
"You told me that, Doctor."
This time, Leonard did laugh. A soft, barely audible chuckle that burned his throat, but otherwise left the rest of his battered body alone.
"Figures."
"Can you walk?"
So, we're getting back to business, then?
If his mind would just get itself centered again, that would be lovely, thank you very much. But as it was, the cloud of pain only continued to thicken, creating a haze Leonard had to shove his way through every time he wished to have a coherent thought.
Well, wishes don't always come true…
"I think…" Leonard sucked in a breath, hoping it would steady him. "I think it's broken, Spock. I don't… I don't know." I just don't know.
He was supposed to be the one who helped people, who healed people, and here he was, lying prone on the floor while Spock suffered several broken ribs.
How long until he punctures a lung?
Maybe he already did…
If his skin was still the right color and his breathing patterns weren't abnormal, maybe he'd be fine.
Well, at least his brain could still speak doctor. That's always a plus.
He still remembered that one time with Jim stuck on that one planet where some random explosion caused a cave-in and Leonard hit his head so hard, they all thought he would end up having amnesia, but he just couldn't doctor right and his brain couldn't remember the procedure for…
Or maybe that was some other time. Maybe it was two times in one and his brain couldn't tell the difference between the two, so it had meshed them together and…
And…
"Leonard!"
Jolting awake was quite a confusing thing. His eyes were open, he could feel them blinking, but he couldn't see anything. Why—?
Oh.
It all came flooding back to him via splintering pain and a clouded brain.
And Spock. Whenever Spock called him that, Leonard knew he was in trouble.
Maybe you're dying.
It sure felt like it…
"'M here, Spock," he slurred. "'M still here…"
"For a moment," the Vulcan replied, voice tight, "you weren't."
Dead? He had been dead? Or just unconscious?
Definitely not dead. Not possible.
So, that left unconsciousness.
Damn.
"Talk to me, Spock. It's… It's gonna get harder to stay awake if I'm left to my own thoughts." His stupid, messed up, hazy thoughts.
Shut up.
I didn't even think anything yet.
You're doing it right now.
"What would you like me to say?"
"Anything. Tell me about your childhood. Tell me how you're gonna get us out of here."
"I have already been contemplating that very thing."
"Your childhood?"
"Our escape, Doctor."
Ah. There was that doctor again, which meant Leonard couldn't have been that bad off…
Or maybe Spock's just gotten his worry back under control again.
Yeah, that's probably it.
"Well?"
"So far, I have yet to come up with a workable solution. We have no light source to work with, which means I cannot tell what the ceiling looks like, nor if there are any tunnels we can follow."
Great…
Leonard wouldn't ask how it all could possibly get any worse. He knew better than to jinx things more than they already were.
"Maybe we can wait it out." Even as he said it, apprehension filled his aching chest. He didn't want to stay down there any longer than he had to.
What if they ran out of air? The last way he wanted to go out was suffocation. And drowning. He didn't want to drown either…
Shut up.
Okay, what if we starve to death?
You'll probably suffocate before that happens.
Or bleed out.
Yes, thank you for that new, comforting thought.
And what if something happened to Spock? What if he did end up puncturing a lung? And what if Leonard couldn't save him?
Well, you're no stranger to that, right?
He screwed his eyes shut until he was certain they would get stuck like that.
Shut. Up.
Now was not the time to think about Dad, or all the patients he'd lost over the years, or the crewmates he couldn't save, or the—
"Leonard?"
Right.
"I said, talk to me, Spock."
"I was talking to you."
Oh…
"Perhaps it would work better if you talked to me."
Another chuckle rattled his frame, but Leonard couldn't help it. "Well, what do you want me to talk about?"
"Anything. Tell me about your childhood." And there was that smirk. Leonard could hear the way Spock's eyes danced despite their situation.
Maybe you really do know him well.
Serve with someone long enough…
"Not much to tell." Leonard forced himself to keep from poking and prodding his leg. Won't do you any good. "Grew up in one of those Georgia towns no one's ever heard of 'cause most people only know Atlanta and Savannah. Mom, Dad, Donna, a dog. The works… And we did, you know… Typical family stuff…"
"I wasn't aware you had a sister." Spock must have sensed him drifting off again because the follow-up question, in Leonard's opinion, couldn't have been more timely.
"Don't know why I haven't brought her up 'til now. And I have a sister. I swear, you make it sound like she's dead or somethin'…"
"That was not my intention." Of course, not. "Are you two close?"
"Yeah, I call her sometimes. She's the only one who—" Biting his lip until it bled was the only way to derail that train of thought. They were not going to go into all that. "Well, never mind."
Spock didn't press like Jim would have, and Leonard supposed that was one of the things he liked best about the Vulcan. He didn't pry.
If he would've, maybe he would've found out about Dad and how Donna was the only one who didn't shun him those first couple of years after the funeral. She hadn't understood, but their shared love for their father was something she hadn't questioned.
She knew why Leonard had done it and confessed that maybe she would have done the same if the roles had been reversed…
But he had already told himself he wasn't going to think about that. Not now. Not when everything was going to hell. Not when they might die in a hole in the dark and—
"Do you think Sasha made it out all right?"
Spock took a moment to consider the question. "I'm certain she did."
Liar. If Spock had wanted to give his true opinion, he would've given statistics. Her chances of escaping the earthquake are approximately thirty-seven point four three blah blah blah…
"But we didn't," came Leonard's soft reply.
"Perhaps luck was on her side."
Leonard snorted. "Now you're starting to sound like Jim. Thought you didn't believe in luck."
"I was simply trying to reassure you, Doctor."
"Well, it's the thought that counts, I guess."
It's always the thought, isn't it? Never mind that Sasha might be lying dead in a hole. Never mind that the rest of their team might have been swallowed up by the earth before they could exit the building. At least Leonard thought he could save them all. At least he had tried.
That has to count for something.
Funny how his own good intentions had never really felt like they counted for much of anything.
"Leonard?" The worry in Spock's voice had spiked, it seemed, but Leonard couldn't bring himself to care.
He'll get over it…
"Leonard, can you hear me?"
For now.
Don't think like that.
What? It's true.
He could feel himself slipping. The last couple of times he couldn't, and maybe that was the difference.
Someone's hands were on him, shaking him, trying to make him stay awake.
The pain was duller now. Maybe that's why.
The peace Leonard had longed for didn't feel as sweet and soothing as he'd wanted it to.
Oh, well.
C'est la vie, I guess…
When he'd first opened his eyes after the quake, all he had heard was his heart beating a dull rhythm against his ribcage.
Now, Leonard slowly pried open his eyes to the sound of hushed voices and the steady beat of… of medical equipment.
How the hell Spock had gotten them both out of there was… Well, it was a story Leonard needed to hear as soon as the pointy-eared hobgoblin showed his face in medbay.
Leonard found himself staring at the ceiling before shifting his gaze to the man—or Vulcan—himself.
He couldn't help the thrill of surprise that spiked through his veins. How long had Spock been there? How long have I been out is the better question…
Jim was there because of course, he was, and Leonard wouldn't have had it any other way. He didn't want to see a day where he woke up in a hospital bed alone. No one hovering over him, no one sleeping in a chair at his bedside.
And so many people do, he realized with a pang. So many people live and die alone.
He cleared his throat. "Well, I hope you two were having a good time watching me sleep."
They were both clearly startled, Spock was just an expert at hiding it.
"Bones! You scared me half to death! Both of you did. Don't ever do that again."
"Will do, Jim. Next time I'm in the middle of a natural disaster, I'll just not get swallowed alive."
A slight whack to Leonard's shoulder gave Jim more satisfaction than was probably healthy, he could tell. "You know what I mean."
Shaking his head, Leonard turned to his other companion. "How about you, Spock? What's the diagnosis on the ribs?"
"I believe the diagnosis you would give, Doctor," Spock replied, "is: I'll be fine."
"No punctured lungs, then?"
"Doctor M'Benga said that wasn't even a possibility."
"Great, then I worried about you for nothing, huh?" But Leonard could feel a smile stretch his face. "Now, how in the blazes did you get us out of there?"
"The answer is quite simple. I didn't."
Leonard blinked. "Then… how?"
Jim grinned. "That's where I come in. Or, at least, my rescue team…"
As Jim explained how he and a team had unearthed them after hours of searching, Leonard truly began to realize how lucky they really were.
"Apparently, Spock had bandaged your leg so you wouldn't bleed out. Besides the obvious injury," Jim went on, "you were also suffering from head damage and mild shock."
"No wonder I feel like I got run over by a bulldozer."
Jim put a hand on his shoulder. "Just… Get better, Bones. And don't scare me like that again."
"Sure." Leonard smirked. "I'll make that promise when you find it in your heart to return the gesture."
"Ha ha. Funny."
Duty called and Jim was whisked off to the bridge, leaving Spock as the sole occupant of the beside chairs.
"What about you, Spock?" With a grin, Leonard shifted, trying for a more comfortable position while stirring up the least amount of pain possible. "I didn't scare you, did I?"
Though meant as a joke, he saw Spock furrow his brows, face contemplative. "Yes, actually."
Well, I'll be damned.
"I had thought…" Spock cleared his throat. "There were several moments in which I thought you wouldn't make it." A ghost of a smirk haunted his lips. "Then what would I tell Jim?"
Leonard forced a smirk of his own, letting the Vulcan have his few seconds of humor, but the obvious sentiment was difficult to ignore, so he didn't even try.
It was… nice to find out that Spock cared. Oh, Leonard supposed some part of him always knew that, but knowing in one's heart and hearing it spoken out loud were two entirely different things.
Before he could say anything else on the matter, Spock changed the subject.
"We found Ensign Cormack and she is recovering nicely. I thought you would like to know."
Leonard smiled. Thank goodness. "Thanks, Spock. That means a lot."
"Like I told you, Leonard. She got out all right."
"Yeah, luck definitely had something to do with that." Settling back, Leonard watched Spock's face work its magic.
"There is no such thing as luck, Doctor." A slight smirk. "But, if you insist…"
"I do. Didn't you ever hear the saying, 'Luck favors the well-prepared mind?'"
"Louis Pasteur, I do believe, however, I'm not sure how that has anything to do with this situation."
"Sasha was lucky because she was prepared—she knew what to do in a crisis and how to use her head. She's a smart one. I can see her rising through the ranks in no time."
The small talk continued and Leonard was grateful for it. Took his mind off the dull pain in his leg, which was a cruel reminder that the painkillers were wearing off.
Where once he had been irritated that Spock had followed him back into the building, he now felt immensely grateful. He couldn't imagine having suffered in the dark alone.
You might not have made it.
It was a sobering thought.
One that made him want to thank the Vulcan for everything he'd done ten times over.
Leonard kept his mouth shut on the matter, though.
After all, he couldn't have all that praise going to Spock's head, now could he?