Title: A Ang Nirsh
Author: Istannor
Series: TOS
Part: 1/1
Rating: [PG13]
Codes:
Summary: Sarek and the healer journey into the unknown to
help a dying man.

Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and
Viacom, they own them, I only check 'em out from the
library. I promise to bring 'em back.

Feedback to Istannor@Aol.com



A Ang Nirsh

Sarek grunted with visible exertion. He began to sweat, a
sign of immense stress, especially in an adult Vulcan.

T'Pau placed her hand on his temple. "He requires our
assistance. He is going unusually deep into James Kirk's
subconscious. Amanda, come and lend your strength through
the Bond."

They sat on either side of Sarek, closed their eyes, and
touched his temples. Their breathing slowed and deepened
until it was obvious that they were deep in trance.

The room was eerily silent.

Jean Little smiled as the door behind her swung slowly open.

She could feel the tentative steps as Leonard McCoy entered
and crossed to stand beside her.

"How is he?" She turned and watched the convulsive motion of
McCoy's throat as he swallowed nervously. He was obviously
terrified and probably the bravest of the three men at risk
today. He chose to act in the midst of his terror.

"He is lost in his memories and drowning from the shattered
link. It is not good."

"Why did the link affect him this way? I mean, it wasn't a
true Bond. They weren't having sex, I'd know if they were. I
thought you only died from a shattered Bond."

"The link filled a void that all Humans have sought to fill
since their thoughts first turned outward. All of you
recalled the touch of other minds, the feel of being known,
loved, the memory of never being alone. That is what we had
and Humans yearn for. When he lost that, he lost himself.
Imagine, Leonard, having attained almost every single thing
you had wanted in life, and then losing it all. That is what
has happened to my Cousin."

McCoy stared at the tableau across the room.  Sarek was
leaning forward over Jim's body; his fingers rested on Jim's
meld points.  Amanda and T'Pau sat silently, deep in the
meld with them. The Vulcan's face was distorted by a painful
grimace.  Jim's motionless form was coated with sweat.  It
was obvious his friend had lost weight and was still
recovering from recent traumas.  Nu skin was still plastered
over the various wounds.  McCoy fingers itched.  He wanted
to check the wounds, but he knew that he was not here to do
that today.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm no damn telepath."

She turned and smiled gently. "Just go over there and call
out to him.  Then, place your hands over Sarek's and wait."

McCoy eyes blinked rapidly as he stared at Sarek sweating, a
faint grimace marred his usually placidity. He balled his
hands into tight fist that threatened to leave marks in his
palms form his nails. He grunted, muttered a soft expletive
under his voice and did as he had been told.  He could not
retrain the trembling in his hands as they reached for his
friend's face.  He looked up. Amanda smiled at him in
encouragement, but he didn't miss the fear in her eyes.  He
swallowed again, closed his eyes, and called out the name of
his friend.  "Jim."

Sarek's voice floated into his head.   <Assist me.  He will
not answer me. >

<How? >

<Allow me to join your mind. >

<Where are Amanda and T'Pau's minds?>

<They lend strength, but their consciousness remain separate
from this meld. It protects them.>

<Who the hell protects me?> No-one answered and McCoy
sighed.  <Do it now before I lose my nerve.>

He felt something slide through his head; it made his eyes
itch.  Suddenly, he felt an increased warmth start at the
top of his head and slowly descend down towards his feet.
His senses began to lose their grip on reality.  First his
hearing left, then the feel of the air in the room vanished,
followed by the sensation of the bed under him.  This felt
nothing like what the other Spock had done to him.  This was
gentle and not really that unpleasant.  It was as if Sarek
was slowly pulling him away from the world and into a
warmer, safer place.  He felt himself began to relax and
flow further and further away from reality.  Finally, it
seemed like an internal eye opened and he stood facing Sarek
in a space so filled with light that it was blinding.  The
light seemed to have a source, from somewhere behind Sarek.

This was not the Sarek who sat on the bed in the real world.
This man was younger, powerful, darkly mysterious, and an
alien in every sense of the word.  At last, McCoy understood
how little he really knew of Vulcan and Vulcans.  <You look
different.> The noise echoed in the silence. He wanted to
slap himself at how stupid that statement sounded, but it
was the first thing that came out of his mouth.  He'd always
had a hard time stopping his first sentence.

<You would term this my inner man.  It represents how I see
myself and it also is affected by how you truly see me.  I
am rarely privy to what the other person sees in this inner
world. >

<Where's Jim? >

<I cannot find him.  He does not answer my call and there
are parts of his mind where I am not allowed to enter. >

<What do I do now? >

<Let your heart lead you, Dr. McCoy.  I will follow where
you lead. >

<Where are we? >

<There is no term for it in standard.  We are elsewhere.
Some Vulcan philosophers believe that a universe is enclosed
in each man's mind.  Others believe that we live in a shared
hallucination and this light is the only reality.  We do
know that any who go directly into the light are lost
forever to us.  We must walk away from it towards the dark.>

McCoy felt pulled towards the light with a longing so
intense that it almost overwhelmed him.  The light seemed to
hold all of his answers and offered a surcease from pain and
strife. Something deep within told him it was not yet meant
for him.

He turned away and walked towards the darkness.  He called
out Jim's name again and again.  There was no answer. It was
warm and more than mildly claustrophobic for him in the
dark.  There were no landmarks, no visions, no one else,
just he and Sarek following wordlessly behind.  He willed
himself to find Jim and reached out with all of his need to
heal his friend.  A faint light shown in the distance and he
began to run towards it.  Sarek kept up with him
effortlessly.

There was a door in the middle of the light.  Oaken,
weathered with age, it hung on giant bronze hinges.  McCoy
swung it open and it moved silently.  <Where are we?>

<I must surmise that we are still in James Kirk's mind. Your
constructs are nothing like my own.  I am unfamiliar with
this location.  In fact, we have been in James Kirk's mind
for some time.  What have you seen up to this point?>

<Nothing.  Until I saw the door, we were walking through
empty space.  How about you?>

<My construct was the Formaji, the great desert.  There was
no visible life or movement.  We used similar concepts, yet
different visualization because of our differences.  What do
you see now?>

<I just opened a giant oak door and I am looking out over a
landscape that looks like Iowa.>

<I just walked into the fortress at Gol. Proceed, Doctor. We
are both explorers now.>

McCoy began to cross through cornfields.  The stalks were
withered and crumbled at his touch.  He could just see the
top of a farmhouse in the distance and he made his way for
that.  All he could hear was the crunch of dead stalks of
corn beneath his feet.  There was no bird song and no insect
buzz.  Even the sun's heat had no real warmth.

They reached the farmhouse and the door hung from shattered
hinges.  It was Jim's home.  McCoy had seen it enough to
know it.  They wandered through the house and found no one.
The silence was too overwhelming for them to even attempt to
speak to each other.  The house was empty, bereft of life,
hope, joy, or any sign that anyone had ever lived there.

McCoy ran outside and sat down on the front steps.  <He
won't answer me.  I left him just like Spock did.  We both
are fools.  I failed.>

<Perhaps not.  Look over there.> Sarek pointed towards the
setting sun. <I see someone approaching us out of the
desert.>  McCoy stared over the cornfields in his mind and a
figure appeared and walked slowly towards.

McCoy jumped up and began to run towards him.  <Wait,
Doctor.> Sarek cautioned.

McCoy had no intention of waiting.  He ran as fast as he
could towards his best friend, the man he had abandoned, and
the one person he most wanted to heal.  He could hear
Sarek's voice calling to him in the background, but he
refused to answer.  Jim was up ahead of him and he needed to
talk to Jim, to help Jim.

He realized when he was less than a hundred meters away; the
man he was running towards was not Jim.  It was no one that
he had ever seen before.

He was tall, muscular, with absolutely symmetrical features,
an unnaturally handsome face, skin as smooth as obsidian. He
seemed to be carved out of translucent marble. He was
perfectly flawless, Michelangelo's David come alive. But the
eyes. . .the eyes were a gray that reminded one of ash and
--- death. The man smiled and a chill descended over McCoy's
soul.

<Ah, company. I have been alone for far too long. This child
had the effrontery to cage me. Now, I have freedom, and
someone to share it with. What joy.> The voice made McCoy's
skin crawl.

The man looked up and saw Sarek in the distance.  He put his
hand forward and motioned.  Sarek now stood beside McCoy.
<Two bits of company, double the pleasure.> He strolled
over to Sarek, looked at him and slowly licked his upper
lip. <This one is not human, is it?> Sarek rose into the air
and his clothes vanished. His muscles were long and lean,
his body without a trace of excess, Vulcan in all its glory.
He maintained his silence as he was leisurely twirled
around, 360 degrees until he faced McCoy and the stranger
again.<I wonder what kind of fun you'll be.> He lowered
Sarek to the ground and clothes reappeared to drape his
frame. Sarek was impassive.<Do you speak, animal?>

<I am conversant in 23 languages, including standard.  I am
Sarek, cha S'Thonn of the House Surak of Vulcan. May I
enquire as to your identity?>

The Stranger mimicked his response.<May you enquire? How
polite.>

Sarek cocked his head to the side. <Who are you?>

<Ah, so it can be rude when it wants to be. How pleasant.
Who am I?  Do you realize how long it has been since anyone
has asked me that question?  In fact, I'm not sure how long
it's been.> He flung his arms up to the sky above and
laughed. <Who am I, he has the audacity to ask. Oh, this is
too precious.> He jabbed a finger into Sarek chest and
emphasized each and every word with a thrust. <I am he who
was driven out of the place of the beginning.  I am the
first son to be cast away from his home.  I am the one they
chose to do without.  But, like a bad apple, I keep turning
up.> The perfect face smiled and McCoy's skin crawled. <I
have had many names.  None of them were my own.>

McCoy felt his mouth began to move.  He couldn't have
stopped the sentence if he had wanted to try.  <Stop all
this damn nonsense and tell us what you call yourself.>

The face spread into a wide sickening grin <Me. I call
myself the most important thing in the universe.  Me. It's
all about Me, it's all for Me, and it's all to serve Me. The
rest of those fools never had a clue. There is no point to
life other than... Me.>

<You obviously don't have a problem with humility.> McCoy
wanted to slap himself.

The man laughed and McCoy felt himself backing away. This
man was crazy. This man was powerful. He needed to leave
this man alone and run away as fast as he could. He wanted
to find Jim more than he wanted to run. He stayed.

<Aren't we a brave little thing? To think, my parents
helped save you animals.  They should have left you all to
perish.>

<Where is Jim?>

<Do you mean the annoying animal that used to keep me locked
away?>

<I mean the man in whose mind you live.>

<I have no idea and no desire to find out.  However, my
freedom probably indicates his death.  Not a moment too
soon, if you ask me.> Me began to circle them. They were
forced to turn to keep their eyes on him.

<If he dies, would you not also die?> Sarek asked. <It
would seem that you need him.>

He waved off the question. <I don't need him. I don't need
you. I don't need anyone but Me.>

<Without Jim, you will die. > McCoy retorted. <You need to
help us to save your own skin.>

<You have been sadly misinformed. I live in the soul of
every human.  I'm in the collective unconscious of almost an
entire race.  I cannot die.  There are some that allow me to
play more than others, but this one has always been
difficult to influence.  I'm far better off without him.> He
shouted and waved his hands out with a gleeful expression on
his face. < Now that I am without him, it's time for the
games to begin.>

McCoy looked up and he was strapped down to a rock.  Chains
crossed his chest, his ankles, his arms, and his neck. He
struggled and felt the chains bite into his skin. The harder
he fought the harder they held him. He could feel the burns
along his neck and wrists where the chains met bare skin.
Nothing that he did allowed him to rise up again.  He turned
to the side and Sarek was similarly bound beside him.

Sarek was already through testing his bonds. A thin trail of
green blood dripped down his neck onto the grass of the
cornfield. <Doctor, I believe it is time for you to call
James Kirk with all of your being.  Dying here will cause us
to die in the real world.  Any pain we feel here will
manifest itself on our bodies on Vulcan.  Call and do not
stop until we are both deceased or unconscious.  I will do
the same.>

A face loomed over McCoy.  <Ah, how are you feeling, animal?
Are you afraid?  Is there just the tiniest bit of terror
racing through your heart?  Many eons ago, I used to take a
great deal of pleasure in skinning you animals alive.  I
wonder if it is still as much fun as it once was.  You know,
they kicked me out of my home for torturing you animals.  I
don't see the point.  You are so far inferior to us that you
don't deserve any consideration.  You dig in the dirt; you
scratch and scramble for dear life. For what purpose do you
labor?  You can never be who we are.  You were born animals
and you will die animals.>


<We labor to be someone who does not take joy in torturing.
We labor to be better than we were.> McCoy shouted. He was
terrified, which meant he was angry. < Damn you to hell and
back. What's in it for you, Me? If you're so damn high and
mighty, why do you torture something that is so far below
your station?>

<Why do I torture animals? Because, I can . . . and, because
I like to cause suffering in animals.  It's fun.  It gives
Me joy and anything that gives Me joy is perfect.  So now be
a good little animal and give Me some joy.> A knife
appeared out of the thin air and descended towards McCoy's
skin.  < If you are really entertaining, I may keep you
alive for a very long time as a reward. But then, of course,
you won't be enjoying yourself. I will be happy, though, and
that's all that counts, isn't it?>

Me lowered the knife towards McCoy. The glow in his eyes
showed McCoy that Me intended to use it.

McCoy began screaming before the knife touched him.
<Jimmmmmmmmmm!> Somehow, at the same time, the same thing
was being done to Sarek.

<Let me talk to you while I dissect you, Leonard H. McCoy.
You are a coward. You run. You ran from your wife because
she screwed up once. She only had an affair because you were
too preoccupied with your work. You were jacking off with
your job. You should've tried it with your wife. You
abandoned your only child, worthless piece of shit that you
are. You left your daughter and ran out into space. What do
you think she calls you? She doesn't call you anything,
because you never were there for her. You told yourself it
would be different once you got into space. You ran out on
Jim, too. You left him, and now he's going to die. He's bled
for you, and fought for you and risked his soul for you and
what did you do? You got mad because he didn't take your
advice. You suck as a healer. Doctor, heal your damn self.>

<Fuck you, you manipulative bastard. I love James Kirk, and
my daughter with all of my soul. You will never get me to
say I don't. I did the best that I knew how to do. Go to
hell. You aren't real. You don't have a soul. You don't know
what it means to cry over the bleeding bodies of the people
you love, and fight with all of your soul and skill to keep
them alive. All you know is death and destruction. Damn you
to the deepest hell! > McCoy screamed as the knife
descended.

Sarek felt the flow of strength from Amanda and T'Pau cut
off, like a flipped switch. He looked up into the sneering
face of Me. <I am going to string you up by your Vulcan
ears, balls too, if I can find them. You do have balls don't
you? I do hope so, they are so much fun to cut off. But
first, I am going to play with you for a long, long time. I
want to hear how loud Vulcans can scream. Do you want to
know what I hated about your son the most?>

Sarek refused to answer.

<I will tell you anyway. I was tired of his half-breed
interference. He played into my hands when he ran. . .like
the frightened cur that he is. He couldn't stand to be in
the company of a real man like Me. He was always staring at
Me, and mooning after Me, like some damn cow-eyed teenager.
I wasn't his damn savior. He needed to get a damn life.>

<You are a being without value. Your words have no worth.>
Sarek turned his face to the other side and Me was there,
too.

Me laughed. <Then let me speak a language you understand.
You understand pain, don't you, Sarek? After all, you've
given more than your fair share in your day. You drove away
your first wife. You banished your first born; you abandoned
Spock. He was never what you wanted, was he Sarek? So weak,
so lacking in the proper Vulcan mores, you despaired that he
would never become the proper little Vulcan.>

<Spock wanted to love and smile; disgusting wasn't he? He
wanted to hug his mother and his father. You put a stop to
that, didn't you, Sarek? You could have been one of my
disciples. That's how thorough your job was. You drove him
away from home. You made him an abomination. He's a man-
lover, Sarek, there's no logic in that; is there? He's
emotional about it too, ain't he? He wants to bond with a
man who doesn't want to bond with him. Worst of all, he's
not even sure he wants to screw him, he just wants to be
close to him.> Me screwed his face up into a mockery of a
surprised look. <What the hell does that mean, Sarek? He's
too much of a wimp to keep a woman, and too afraid to be a
same sexer. Which is he, animal, vegetable or mineral? You
failed as a father then and you're failing as a rescuer.
Congratu- fucking-lations, Sarek. You get the prize, 'Shitty
Father of the Century'.>

Sarek's mind boiled over with frustration and regret. None
of this was truth. Lies they were all lies. The mind was a
tool to be used. He was the wielder of his intellect. He
controlled his mind. None other could define his reality. He
recited the mantras again and again, while he called James
Kirk as loudly as he knew how.

Loss bubbled up and spewed forth from his center, like a
lava run finally making its way from Vulcan's core. They
were not all lies. So much he would have done differently.
He had faltered many times in the pursuit of the ideal. He
had been less than he would have wished to have been. He had
failed Spock.

He clamped down on his despair. His son was better than he
deserved. Spock had deserved better than he had gotten from
Vulcan.

Illogical, what was, was. Kaadith. His wife would probably
die with him, but at least they would be together.
Unfortunately, he was failing James Kirk. In fact, he had
failed all three of his sons. He, Sarek, direct descendant
of Surak, was a joke on a cosmic scale. He wanted to laugh,
but he hurt too much to do so. He wondered if his Mother, or
his second born would miss him, and then he realized that
also was an illogical thought. Next, he wondered if they
both knew that he had loved them as much as he knew how.
That illogical thought he kept and shared with the void. .
and ME.

<I have done the best that I knew to do. I have loved as
well as I was able. I have regrets, but they will not change
the past. Your statements do not lessen or increase my
culpability. I erred, but at no time did I not love my
children.  I am content.>

<Content, I don't think so. Let me show you what true
contentment is, though. Look at me, you pompous asshole.>
Sarek's face was jerked to the side and ME glared at
him.<Your screams are about to make me very content.>

Amanda and T'Pau snapped back to awareness.  Long cuts were
opening up on the skin of McCoy and Sarek.Sarek's body began
to convulse.  Amanda screamed at Jean.  "Do something, he's
killing my husband."

Jean Little shook her head sadly from side to side.  "Did
you think that I was playing when I told you we could all
die in this endeavor.  I cannot protect either your husband
or Dr. McCoy against what they battle now.  It is older and
more powerful than even I.  We must wait for the outcome and
the choices that will be made in this room today."

Amanda moved back towards her husband but T'Pau grabbed her
and held her with Vulcan strength.  Even at greater than 200
years old, T'Pau was the stronger.  "Amanda, do as she asks.
There is nothing you can do to help.  I sense the struggle
inside them and there is nothing I can do to help, either.

Amanda slumped back in her chair. Her tears fell and T'Pau
held her and wiped them away as best as she could.

McCoy felt his flesh being carved away.

"Jim," he screamed, "Jim, help me, dammit, help me.  Don't
let me die like this." He felt a piece of his skin being
pulled off his heel, and waves of nausea rolled over him.
"Don't leave me with this mad man.  You promised you'd never
leave me.  I came back for you. I don't want to die like
this.  Jim, bring your ass back here and get me!"  The pain
cascaded up and down in great waves of agony.  The
background was filled with the sound of laughter and McCoy
was helpless. There was nothing he could do to free himself,
or Sarek.  "Jim!"  He tried to fight against it, he tried to
absorb it, and he tried to heal it. Nothing he did worked.

He felt himself begin to die.

As he felt his life begin to ebb, regret overwhelmed him.
Now, he would never be able to save Jim.  Jim would die.  He
had failed and that thought made him sob.  He had failed
because he had never been able to truly understand either
Spock or Jim.  He had failed because he had always been
afraid.  He had failed because he had loved his ego more
than he had loved his friends.  He had walked away from Jim
when Jim needed him.  It was his fault that Jim was going to
die.  McCoy was the healer and he had not healed, he had
run.

He did the last thing he knew to do.  He sent out his love
for his life; for his daughter; for his ex-wife, who had
tried to love him; for the gift of being a surgeon; for the
lovers who had shared his life. He sent his love to Natira,
who had almost been enough, for the parents who had truly
loved him and for his aggravating Vulcan friend. Most of
all, he sent out his love for his best friend and hero,
James Kirk, whom he loved with all of his soul.  He sent out
all of his love and he decided that love, after all, was the
only reason for life.  Then, he let himself go and maniacal
laughter followed him in the background as he dropped away
from life towards the light.

The fall was slow. The screams and laughter chased him from
the darkness. The closer he came, the more his fears dropped
away. He realized life needed to be balanced by death, his
enemy. He had fought death for all of his adult life. He had
railed against it and run from it. Now, he finally welcomed
it with open arms. At last, he was not afraid.

In the darkness, something caught him and settled him gently
to the floor.

The laughter stopped and an anguished wail rose in volume,
<Noooooooo! I want to be free. They are my animalllssss. . .
,"> and then the voice was quickly cut off.

McCoy opened his eyes and looked up into familiar hazel
ones.  He sat straight up and looked at his body.  There
were no scars.  He looked at Jim.  So tired, Jim looked
exhausted, but he pulsated. He was a dark golden color with
dark golden hair streaked with strands of gray, silver,
black, brown, red, and white. His eyes were a green never
before seen in nature. They were the green of prairie grass
after a rain shower.  McCoy's heart reached out to his
friend.

Jim was back. It would all be okay. Jim would make it okay.

They were alive and McCoy realized he had won. Jim was
alive.

McCoy wasn't sure how he managed it, but somehow he was
hugging his friend as hard as he could and shouting out in
pure joy.  He could feel Jim's arms slowly lift and return
the embrace.  McCoy leaned back finally and wiped the tears
off of his face.  <Goddammit, Jimboy, you cut that pretty
close.  You took fifteen years off of my life.>

<I was a long way away, Bones.  It took me forever to get
here.  I'm sorry. >

<Where the hell were you? I've been calling you forever.>

<I honestly don't know. I was someone else living someplace
else, a thousand years ago. I think I was actually happy
then. Why are you here?  I thought you told me you never
wanted to see my stupid face again.>

<That was another man talking, a crazy man.  I should've
never left.  I would've never left if I had known what was
going to happen to you.>

<You knew, Bones.  You were absolutely right back then.
Losing my ship was bad enough, losing my family was more
than I could take.  I should've listened to you.  It was too
much of Me showing through.>

<He's not still around; is he?> McCoy searched the
landscape.  He was back at Jim's farmhouse, on the couch in
the downstairs library.  The room was paneled in a rich
mahogany colored wood, and books lined the walls from floor
to ceiling. There was a crackling fire in the rough-hewn
stone fireplace.  It had already started to bring warmth to
McCoy's very soul. Sarek sat on a couch across from him and
stared silently into the flames.

<He's back in his cage where he belongs, thank God.>

McCoy shivered.  <He was scary.>

Kirk chuckled dryly. <Who are you telling? Maybe now you'll
believe me when I tell you I'm not a nice guy.>

<You are a wonderful guy, for an idiot.> Kirk laughed and
shrugged. McCoy had to ask. <Is what he said true?  Is he
inside all of us?>

Kirk nodded.  <Every single one of us.>

Sarek voice whispered across the room. <Why is he so
powerful in you?>

<Those with the greatest ability for good, have the greatest
ability for evil.  He is someone I have fought against all
of my life.> He sighed and stared at his hands like they
were those of a stranger.<He calls out to the part of me
no-one should ever see. He whispers to me in the night about
what choices I should make.  He tells me about the joys of
power and tries to corrupt me every chance he gets.  Bones
and Spock always helped me fight him, even though he is
really me. Or should I say, Me is really me. It's confusing
as hell, even to me. He is an Old One and the first one to
be cast out. He is a murderer, hater, a creature controlled
by his lusts, and he seeks to corrupt anything he can, and
he lives in me. I used him once to help me and I barely kept
him in control. Never walk your beast, folks, not if you can
help it.>

McCoy stretched and allowed the warmth of the fire to
penetrate his bones. He sipped thoughtfully on a glass of
brandy that Jim handed him, while he let the last bit of
terror fall away. Jim sat and watched him silently. <Why
didn't he show up when the wolf was split off from you?>

<He requires my intellect to flourish.  The wolf didn't
retain that part of my personality, so Me was never able to
manifest. > Kirk got up and crossed over to Sarek.  The
Ambassador had sat quietly and watched them.  <Thank-you,
Sarek, for your efforts on my behalf.  You both may go home
now.>

<I do not think that is the case, James.  You are only
slightly healthier than before.  The only reason you are
here is because McCoy's pain. . .and love, called you back.
You still require my assistance to heal the link.  Will you
allow me to do so?  Think before you answer, James Kirk.  If
you allow yourself to die, then you have surrendered to
defeat.  You will have doomed Spock to Gol, because he
surely will never leave without you pulling him back.  You
will also leave McCoy to his despair, because he was unable
to heal you.  Think.  Which is more important now?  Your
pain, or your future.>

McCoy walked to Kirk's side.  <Now, it's me who needs you to
live.  I need you to not give up.  Let us help, Jim.  I
promise I'll always be there for you when you need me again.
Don't leave me alone. I'll come and work for you at
Admiralty Hall and be on my best behavior. I'll even be nice
to that damn Vulcan when he comes back, if you let us help
you.>

Kirk turned to look at McCoy. Time stopped and McCoy held
his breath. Silently he sent and sent again. 'say yes'.

<I wasn't trying to kill myself. I was just. . .tired, out
of control. Spock destroying the link made all my little
dominoes fall. Neither one of us had any idea this would
happen. He wouldn't have done this to me, if he had known.>

Sarek frowned. <You are incorrect. He still would have done
this. Gol will support him as the link dies, and he would
expect me to do the same for you. He did this willingly and
knowing the consequences.>

Kirk walked over and stared into the flames.

Sarek watched him intently before daring to break the
silence. <Why did my son do this, Kirk? Tell me why he went
to Gol.>

The Human shrugged and continued to face the flames. The
fire roared briefly, touching him, but not burning. <I guess
he truly believes we will end up killing each
other.>

<Did you quarrel or did you battle?> Kirk turned abruptly
and looked at Sarek in surprise. <He is unbonded and you
are his T'hy'la. It was inevitable that he attempt to force
your submission, especially since you are the weaker
physically. It is our way and it is why Vulcan males are
Bonded in childhood.>

<He tried. He failed.> His expression changed, recalling
Me. His voice echoed. <I cannot be forced into submission by
anyone.> McCoy flinched, enough to make Kirk's face return
to normal and give a slight shrug. <Sorry, Bones, I didn't
mean to scare you. Me is part of who I am.He's the part of
me that doesn't consider defeat to be an option.Spock and I
almost killed each other.>

Sarek nodded.<He runs from his shame and your approbation,
then.>

<I forgave him then and I forgive him now, Sarek. He isn't
human and the same standards don't apply. I thought we had
gotten over that incident. I was a fool. I should've guessed
that it was simmering under the surface.He frightened
himself with his anger and...the rest of the feelings he
showed. I'm used to being enraged. I am used to being out of
control. He wasn't and it ate away at him until he retreated
to Gol. Now, that my thoughts are clear, I understand. I'm
sorry about all the fuss, Sarek. I'm not usually psychotic
or hysteric.>

<No apologies are required, James. The sundering of a
familial link has been know to drive full Vulcans insane.>

McCoy grabbed Kirk's shoulder. <Wait one damn minute, Jim.
Why didn't I know about this?>

<We didn't tell you. You were on leave, so M'Benga handled
the aftermath and I pulled rank on him to get him to close
the file. It really wasn't that bad, most of the battle was
emotional. It got ugly after he tried to change my memories
about Rayna. We argued and one thing led to the other. >
Kirk shrugged. <He's stronger than me and faster, but not
nastier. I won, because there's nothing I won't do to win.
Me sees to that.>

<What is your answer, James?>

Kirk sighed and . . . decided.  <Do it, Sarek.  Just do it
and get it over with. A guy can't even decide to rest
without being harassed around here.> James Kirk tried to
smile. . .and failed.

Sarek reached his hand towards Kirk's face and a thin line
of energy leapt out to meet him.  Its tip had an ugly gray
color and even McCoy could see it was a sign of disease.
Sarek touched it and pulled the tendril towards his own
forehead until it seemed to push inside, into Sarek's very
skull.   Both Sarek and Kirk began to burn, a brilliant
green and red throbbing, towering flame that blinded McCoy.
A low-level hum filled his consciousness and he felt himself
fall again into nothing.

When McCoy awoke, he was in a bed on Vulcan and Jean Little
was smiling down at him.  He had no idea how much time had
passed.

"You've done a great job, Leonard. Congratulations and
thank-you. Now you have to leave. You will not see Jim again
until he calls you and tells you he needs you.
Unfortunately, you will not remember any of this until that
occurs. Goodnight, my friend, sleep well."

McCoy screamed out in rage, "Damn you, no. Let me stay,
Jean. I want to stay! He needs me! I'm begging you not to do
this!"

Jean shook her head slowly from side to side. "Forgive me,
Leonard, but I do what I have to. Jim must learn to be alone
and reject the silence. One day, you'll understand, even if
you never forgive me."

He scooted away from her to the far wall. "No, I swear, I'll
do what you need me to do. Don't you touch me. If you do
something to my memory, it won't work, because Jim will come
looking for me. You can't touch him. You can't change his
memories; no one can. He'll come and get me and give me back
my memory, and I'll never forgive you, and I'll never help
you again."

She hesitated and a moment of indecision clouded her face,
then she began to move towards him again. He felt himself
being frozen in place.

"Stop! I told him and Sarek that I wouldn't leave. I gave
him my word and he won't forget. You fuck with me and he'll
stop playing your game for good."

She paused and her eyes widened slightly. McCoy pressed the
advantage. "You know I'm right. If he thinks you mistreated
me, he'll stop playing your game and your whole damn plan
will go down the tubes. Kill him and you have nothing. Piss
him off and you have nothing."

"You threaten me?" She couldn't hide her shock.

McCoy went for the kill shot. "You sound just like your damn
relative in Jim's head: Me. What's the difference between
you and Me? He thinks we are here for his amusement and you
use us like your personal tool store."

"How dare you!"

McCoy felt the air crackle with energy, but he wasn't
backing down. "Screw you. I don't have anything to lose. I
dare what I have to to tell the damn truth and heal Jim. He
needs me."

Jean Little seemed to swell until McCoy felt his eyes throb.
Air rasped across his dry lips. Doctor he had been
and doctor he had become again. He saw before she could hide
it, the faintest trace of fear and uncertainty.

"You're guessing!" he crowed."You don't know what's going to
happen next, either. You aren't a God.You don't know if he
needs me or not." Her nostrils flared and McCoy diagnosed
the disease. "Goddammit, Jean, how long have you been
winging it? How much of this whole debacle came as a
surprise to you?"

Jean sat back and watched him silently. Her hands
trembled... an infinitely small movement of the tectonic
plates, but noted, nonetheless. McCoy held his breath.

Finally, she pursed her lips and finally nodded to herself.
"Leonard, if you betray me, you will have more pain then you
know what to do with."

"I'll give you my word. More importantly, I already gave Jim
my word. Whatever you need, whatever will make him heal."

She shrugged her shoulders and frowned. "You are a pain in
the ass, McCoy. But, there is no denying that I owe you one,
actually more than one." She sat forward in her seat and
stared intently at McCoy. "I think Jim needs to be on his
own. This breakdown was...not anticipated. So, he
needs to be tested without his anchors. He has to relearn to
leash his beast, his despair, and his rage without you, or
Spock, to anchor him." McCoy nodded.

"I want you to go back to Earth and resume your practice.
You will tell everyone you have been on vacation and I will
give you souvenirs and photos that support your story. You
are not to contact James Kirk again until he calls you." She
tilted her head to the side. "Can you do that?"

McCoy shook his head in protest. "He'll think I abandoned
him again. He won't want me back."

"No, he will know you were there today and he will know what
he has to do next. That is my job. He will retreat, like he
always does to lick his wounds and regroup. Without you or
Spock to pull him out of his funk, he will be forced to heal
himself."She wagged a finger at him. "If you screw this up,
McCoy, you will mess up everything you just fixed."

He ran a hand through his hair. "You give me your word he'll
know I was here?"

"My word."

"And you won't screw with my memory?" She nodded.He
sighed."Send me back before I change my mind." He
stood up and walked over to the window. The Vulcan desert
stretched out in front of him. A moonless night meant no
shadows, no moon glow, no beams of light to shatter the
perfect night, only the distant lights of homes, partially
hidden in the harsh hills of the desert. "Jean?"

"Yes, Leonard."

"Take care of him. He came back for me. He chose to live for
me...and for Spock. Even after we abandoned him, he came
back for us."

"I know."

"If you hurt him, immortal or not, powerful or not, I'll try
my best to kill you."

She smiled slightly. "I know." She walked over to his side
to view the darkness, shades and textures, interrupted by a
rare light from a far-off dwelling. "You're a fine man,
McCoy. I don't doubt that you would try." She took his face
in one hand and gently turned him towards her. "Understand,
what we know are probabilities and timestreams. Our vision
is not perfect. But, just like a Doctor who must cut to
heal, or a Captain who must kill to save, I do the best I
know to do. I'm not your enemy."

McCoy smiled slightly. "I know." He shrugged and turned back
to face the outside, "Jim and my daughter are the two
people in this universe that I value the most.Sometimes I
include Spock, but this ain't one of those times. The funny
thing is, I don't really understand any of them."

"In the Vulcan language there is a phrase for a problem
without a logical solution. 'A ang nirsh.' It translates
roughly to yes and no. If I was asked if I wanted you to
stay here with Jim and always be beside him to help him
through the hard times ahead, that would be my answer:'A ang
nirsh.' Neither Jim, nor I, nor you, have a choice in this,
Leonard."

McCoy turned and sat back on the bed."Send me back.You have
my word." His last sight was Jean's hand lifting towards his
face.

When he awoke, he was in his cabin outside of Macon,
Georgia. A faint memory of truly disturbing dreams, and a
sharp tang of loneliness filled him to the brim. He could
see that it had already spilled over onto his pillow, still
wet from his tears. He muttered as he rose,"Damn, Jean, at
least let a fellow remember the return trip."

He looked at the chronometer. Over a week had passed since
Vulcan and he was damned if he could remember how he had
gotten to the cabin.

He missed Jim already, but he had given his oath.

He walked into the kitchen, and true to her word, pictures
of a camping trip on Rigel 3 were neatly laid out on the
kitchen table.Sitting on top of the used roundtrip shuttle
ticket,the pictures, and a bottle or Rigel Bardwine, was a
note. He wiped his eyes. Strange they would choose this
moment to water; allergies, no doubt.

He read the note.

"Leonard, obviously, I have decided to trust you. Jim is
doing alot better. I told him I asked you to leave and
why. He told me to tell you to stay safe and stop worrying.
He said: 'I'm fine.' He's lying, but then you know that.

"You are a true Healer.I thank you.

"You may read or hear strange things about him over the next
few months to years. Under no circumstances are you to
initiate contact.That is his job. One day, I hope you will
understand and perhaps even forgive me."

There was no signature.

McCoy sat and quietly watched the last rays of sunlight sink
behind the Georgia mountains and wished his best friend well
with all of his heart.