Title: Picking Up The Pieces
Author: Nikita

Pairing: Sp/Mc

Spoilers: Mirror Mirror.
Summary: McCoy and Spock must confront the damage done in the
mirror universe.

Rating: PG (Probably even G, but it's kind of Pre-slash.)

Author's Note: I love stories dealing with the Mirror universe and
its aftereffectsso why not write my own?? : ) If this story makes
you hungry in certain places you can blame me I was hungry when I
wrote certain scenes


_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_


^*^*^*^ Evasion ^*^*^*^


I see his face in my mind constantly. So similar and yet so
different. Not just the beard, but also the intensity of his eyes.
The intensity, which both scared and thrilled me as they burned into
my own.

I told Jim and the others that I didn't remember the mind meld in
the other universe. The staff meeting was quiet as I admitted that
the Mirror Spock forced a meld to retrieve information about us. As
I felt all those eyes on mestaring at me with growing pity and
revulsionI knew I couldn't tell them. Tell them how it burnedhow
invading it felt. Like a rape. And it wasa rape of the mind. And
the doctor within me tells me I cannot keep this secret. That I
need to tell someone and deal with it as if it were a physical
rape. But I can't. Because the doctor in me doesn't have to deal
with the wreck of a man that will fall apart if he speaks the words
out loud. Doesn't have to see the pity grow and spread throughout
the ship with gossip and rumor.

And I can't, coward that I am, face it. Not now. It's too fresh.
Too new. I need a bit of time, a bit of distance from the event.
So I can deal with it in a more objective mindset. Surely a coping
method that even the most logical of Vulcans could approve of. Give
it time.

_*_*_

I feel his eyes on me. Watching. Does he suspect? Why should he?
I can be a wonderful actor when I want to be. Hell, maybe I should
have been a vid actor instead of a doctor. Less paperwork, I'm
sure. My in box is nearly empty, though. I've been working.
Almost nonstop. Can't quite seem to be able to stay in my quarters
for long lately. Too small. Too confining. Too much quiet. And
far too much time on my hands. All that time to think of things I'd
rather not think about just now. Not now. Later. For nowthere's
work.

_*_*_

Damn it, he DOES know. He's watching me even closer now. He'll
approach me soon; I know it. Can't think about it. Work. There'll
be a new mission or some scientific discovery and he'll be
distracted from thisthis situation or whatever you'd call it.
He'll realize it's pointless. It's private. Isn't that supposed to
be sacred to Vulcans?! Privacy? You'd never know it from my
experiences lately

No, nowork. Go back to work.

_*_*_

"Doctor."

Damn it! Two more seconds and I would've been in the turbolift
alone. Two seconds and I'd have been able to close the doors on
him. Go to my office and lock the damn door. I've got work to do;
can't he understand that?

"What is it, Spock? I've got things to do."

Spock's eyebrow rises as it always does when I say something too
human. If I wasn't in such a hurry I'd smirk. But I'm too busy
just now. Far too busy

"Indeed. It was my understanding that it is currently your free
shift. Do you not require rest?"

Oh, I'm dying to tell him off for practicing medicine without a
license. Tell ME when I need rest?! But I don't want a
confrontation. "No. I'm not tired. I've got work to do." The
lift doors open and I step out into the corridor. He's following
me. I quicken my pace. I make it to sickbay and I hurry to my
office. Surely he'll move on. No luck.

"Dr. McCoy, I need to talk to you about a personal matter"

Godammit, not now! "I'm busy, Spock." I look at my desk, but it's
cleared. How the hell did that happen? All these years in
Starfleet and I've YET to have a day without a single paper to
file. It's a miracle or rather a nightmare. I'll check the labs

"I'm sure we can schedule some time later, Spock. If you'll excuse
me-" I push past him in the doorway and he steps back, but somehow
in my haste I manage to trip over the threshold. I stumble and
nearly fall, but with his quick reflexes to catch me and prop me
against the wall.

Oh, godtoo close! He's leaning forward. Any second now he'll lift
his handput his fingertips to my face and PUSH. His mind is
pushing in my own. PUSH and my mind is wide open. The painthe
fearthe violation! He doesn't carehe's cold and disdainfulhe
ignores my screams. But they're all in my head. No one can hear
me, but him. He looks into my eyes and they burn

He gasps and jerks his hands back off of my arms and backs up a
step. I'm shaking as I tug my uniform straight and push off the
wall. "Ahem. Thank you, Spock. Excuse me" I all but run to Lab
3 and as soon as the door slides shut I lock it and allow myself to
slide to the floorshaking.


^*^*^*^ Check ^*^*^*^


My fingers experience a strange tingling sensation from where I
touched the skin of his wrists and arms. My fingers tingle, but my
mind burns. My worst suspicions are now confirmed. I look over at
the closed door of the lab and consider my new course of action. He
requires help. His mind has been raped and the trauma is not being
dealt with. His evasion is understandable, but only further
damaging his mental health. I must report this. A Vulcan healer
will be needed.

I return to his office and leave him a message on his terminal:

>Dr. McCoy I am aware of your current situation and needs. A
Vulcan healer will be required to undo the damage you have
received. I will notify the captain and request a leave of absence.<

My first stop is to my own rooms. I contact T'Pau as she has the
necessary connections and influence to make the arrangements. My
next transmission is to my parents with a request and I am quickly
granted permission. My mother offers me an illogical wish for luck
as I sign off. My final request is made to the captain in his
quarters.

"Are you certain, Spock?" The captain holds up his hand before I
can respond. "No, no, I don't doubt your word, of course. It just
seems sounbelievable. How is it we all missed this? Why hasn't he
come to us about this?"

"The doctor is a private man, and this is a most private matter.
And it may well be that he is not fully aware of the extent of the
damage."

Jim paces the room, shaking his head. "Of course I'd grant your
request, but Fleet-"

"You will most likely find your request easily accepted, captain.
T'Pau will have made the necessary inquiries. I need only your
official approval."

"Granted. How shall I tell Bones?"

"I have no doubt that I will have an opportunity to inform him, if
you wish."

_*_*_

"How could you?! This is none of your business!" McCoy had barged
into his cabin after overriding his security lock with his medical
authorization. A serious misuse of authority, but one that I was
willing to overlook due to the circumstances.

"I am sorry you feel that way, doctor. But it was necessary. Not
only for your own health, but for you patients. You are not of fit
mind at present time."

"Who died and made you Chief Medical Officer?! Certainly not me!
You've relieved me of my duties and arranged for my leave of absence
AND you're shipping me of to Vulcan without so much as a `by your
leave'?!"

"You are correct about the first two statements, but you are not
being `shipped to Vulcan.' There will be a Vulcan healer meeting us
on Earth for your treatment. I have arranged for a personal leave
as well and will accompany you."

It was interesting to watch his mouth flop open and then close with
a snap. He glared at me before casting his eyes around the room.
Grabbing the small firepot on the table next to him, he threw it
against the wall. Smashing it into several small pieces. Turning
on his heel, he stormed out of the room. A crewman passing by gaped
in surprise and glanced into my cabin at me before hurrying off. I
kneel to pick up the pieces of the vase and find irony in the fact
that I am attempting to pick up the pieces of the medical officer as
well.

I doubt he would appreciate the irony.


^*^*^*^Consideration^*^*^*^


Damned interfering, nosey Vulcans! I'm still furious, but I already
regret breaking his firepot. It's so unlike my usual behavior and
I'm fully aware of that fact. Still, at that moment I needed to
vent and I really wanted to hit him no, not him, the other Spock.
The one that put me in this situation. The one that still haunts my
dreams and invades my mind over and over again.

I consider facing Jim and yelling at him, too, but it's pointless.
I'll just be spreading my irrational anger around and only confirm
the fact that Leonard H. McCoy has lost his ever-lovin' mind.

And maybe I have. Because now that I'm sitting in my quarters with
a drink in my hand, and I'm starting to change my mind about the
course of events. Earthhe's taking me to Earth. Blue skies and
green grass. I'm not sure where on the planet we'll stay, but the
very idea of the planet is making me homesick. How many years has
it been? Too longfar too long.

`Course, I'm still mad at him. He's still an interfering nosey
bastard, but maybe he's got the right idea.

I won't tell him that, though.


^*^*^*^ Reluctance ^*^*^*^


We have been dropped off at Starbase 23 in order to take a shuttle
to Earth. The doctor stands next to me with his bag slung over his
shoulder and a frown upon his lips. He is determined to maintain
his negative attitude towards the trip, but he has kept his
complaints to a minimum so far. I have little hope that this will
continue, however.

"So where's the shuttle, Spock?"

No sooner does he ask then a tall blond human steps up in a flight
uniform. "Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy? Shuttle's this way, sirs."

I glance over at the doctor and gives me a snort before following
the man towards the docking bay. It will be a long flight.

_*_*_

"No! Nooo.Spock don't!"

I drop my hands from their meditative clasp and sit up on the narrow
bunk. Reaching over I touch his wrist lightly, trying not to
disturb him unduly. I should have remembered the effect my touch
had last time as he jumps, staring at his wrist with horror before
looking into my eyes, his own are wide and wild.

I let go and step back. "You were having a dream. Are you all
right now, doctor?"

He slowly relaxes and nods, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Same
dream. When do we arrive?"

"Two point three hours. Perhaps you would like to `freshen up.'" I
nod towards the back area and he raises an eyebrow mockingly.

"I don't need a mother hen, Spock. I know when I need to use the
facilities."

I nod and return to my bunk and my meditation. He gives a
frustrated sigh and wanders to the back despite his words.


^*^*^*^ Healing ^*^*^*^


I would never have expected this of him. I'm in Georgia. The
pointy-eared devil rented us a lovely little cottage in my home
state. He claims his father has connections with the owner from
previous peace keeping conventions and that he thought the quiet and
solitude would be conducive to the healing process. All true, I'm
sure. But it's still hogwash. He was watching me closely as we
arrived. I couldn't help the wide grin I know I was sporting when
we first walked up to it.

It's beautiful. Late spring with the flowers in bloom, birds
singing and a breeze that has the dogwood tree out front swaying
gently. I take a deep breath and feel more truly home then I ever
have before. I think he's enjoying it, too. Not that he'd admit
it. But he takes long walks with me and appreciates the variety of
plants and colors. I don't know how much time he's spent on Earth
before. I want to ask, but I'm still being stubborn about opening
up.

I have an appointment tomorrow with the healer. How he managed to
finagle a Vulcan healer to meet me here I'll never know. To say I'm
not looking forward to the session is putting it mildly. I'm
scared. I don't want to relive the mindmeld and I don't want anyone
else in my head.

_*_*_

The Vulcan healer was about what you'd expect. Cool, tall and
regal, though she's younger than I would've thought. She met me at
the cottage and Spock left us in privacy to go for a walk. She had
me relate my memories of the meld before attempting a healing one to
fix whatever damage the other one did to my psyche. It's a long gut-
wrenching session, which ended with me on my knees, sobbing. She
told me we would continue the next day so I had time to process the
progress we had made that day.

Progress? If you call me whimpering progress then I suppose we did
swimmingly today. I retreated to my bedroom for the rest of the
evening and only came out when he called me to dinner. He had fixed
a salad and pasta but it felt like sand in my mouth. I avoided eye
contact and left as soon as politely possible.

The next day was much the same, but I wasn't quite as much a wreck
when we finished. I could feel cool strains of logic that she
helped me build amongst the chaotic thrashing in my brain. She
helped me replay the meld, but this time as a distant observer. I
was drained, but eerily calm when she left. Spock seemed to sense
my need for quiet once more and I spent the evening outside on the
old rocker watching the birds and squirrels and he sat on the porch
swing reading a book.

By the third day I was beginning to get a grip on things. I was far
from healed, but I could see that we `were' making progress and she
gave me some meditative exercises that seemed to help.

Spock suggested we go out to lunch today after my therapy and I was
thrilled to find my old favorite hole-in-the-wall burger joint still
operating. I sat down to one of their big juicy hamburgers with
enthusiasm I haven't felt in years. Starships are NOT known for
their cuisine. I haven't had a decent piece of meat in years much
less a burger. I bite into it with a small moan of pleasure.
Homemade barbecue sauce stains my lips and I lick them with another
moan, eyeing my burger for the next bite. I become aware of eyes on
me and glance up to the raised eyebrow across from me. Spock's eyes
are riveted on my mouth. I lick my lips again and his eyes follow
the movement before darting up to my eyes. He drops the eyebrow and
focuses on his own plate of vegetable casserole.

I hide a grin behind a napkin and watch him take a bite. "How is
it?"

"Palatable, thank you."

"I doubt they put as much effort in their vegetarian dishes as they
do in their burgers, which they're known for. I can't believe I
forgot how good they weremmmmm."

"I do not have to ask you how you are enjoying `your' meal."

I smile again and relish the spices and small bits of tomato from
the sauce. "Nopethanks for suggesting we go out. I do feel bad
about your food, though. Tell you what; tonight I'll cook dinner
for you. I make a mean vegetable lasagna."

He raises his eyebrow again at this. "Mean?"

"The best. We'll need to find a vegetable stand, though. Do you
like zucchini? Or maybe I'll make my baked beans. A bit of onion,
spices, brown sugar and they're baked in a crock slowly in the
oven. They've got a secret ingredient, though"

I finished my burger with great satisfaction and I noted Spock's
occasional glance.


^*^*^*^ Advancement ^*^*^*^


He seems to be making progress in his sessions. He meditates in the
evenings and his demeanor is far more relaxed. He still has a lot
of work to do before he will be able to return to work, but I can
see he is slowly healing. His color is better and he enjoys the
setting. I wonder occasionally why he decided to leave, but I
remember his adventurous spirit and need to help others. I suppose
that he enjoys challenges and the chance to see new worlds. I can
understand this mindset. It is what led me to Starfleet as well.

But I do not miss Vulcan as much as he obviously misses Earth. As I
look out into the garden with its lush greens and brilliant flowers,
I believe I understand

_*_*_

The healer has asked me to join the therapy session today. They
have reached a plateau in treatment and it is necessary that I
participate. I can tell that McCoy is apprehensive about this but
he agrees to the meld. By accepting a meld voluntarily with someone
he trusts, he will lose some of the apprehension he retains in
telepathic engagement in general, but also it will lessen his
association of my touch with that of the `other'.

I press my fingertips to the meld points and he squeezes his eyes
shut.

"McCoy look into his eyes" the healer commands. He opens them
reluctantly and I carefully enter his mind. He is open by sheer
will power. I feel the emotions that tug on his control, but he is
far stronger in shunting them aside than I would have anticipated.
I intentionally make the meld shallow and unfocused. He slowly
relaxes, though he maintains his control and allows our thoughts to
merge on a basic level. I continue to gaze into his blue eyes and
my thoughts drift into analyzing the distinct shade. They remind me
of the sky in the early morning outside my bedroom window.

He `hears' this thought. //Why, thank younever knew you were a
poet. Your eyes are a lovely dark brown. But I think your nicest
features are your hands//

//My hands?//

//Yes, long fingered and elegant. Your fingertips burn where they
touch my face, but it is a good heat. I think it is the intensity
of your gaze which draws me to your eyes usuallythey seem to burn
into me just now//

//As his didYou were fascinated by his eyeshow they focused on you
with such intensity. But they were not the eyes you wanted on
you// Our thoughts are merging with greater ease.

//Yes//

//You thought of me as he forced his way into your mind//

//Yesbut he found it mildly amusing, but was disdainfulhe was
certain no Vulcan would find me worthy of even the slightest
interest beyond amusement//

//He was wrong//

_*_*_

The meld ended gradually and the healer was satisfied with the
session. She has left for Vulcan this morning and our leave will be
over in a 3.5 days and I have arranged for a shuttle on our final
day to rendezvous with Enterprise as they near Starbase 23 once more.

I listen to him cooking in the kitchen. I attempted to help him
earlier, but was promptly ordered out of the kitchen. He seems sad
we will be leaving, but as he complains about the likely state of
his sickbays with M'Benga in charge during his leave, I know he is
looking forward to returning to the ship as well.

"All rightcome and get it!"

I sit down to a full table. Tonight he craved Greek so he made
stuffed grape leaves, Spinakopita and a large Greek salad. I accept
a portion of each and enjoy the unique flavors of feta and Calamata
olives as he hands me a large chunk of bread. "Mmmm, I'll miss this
fresh food when we go back. It'll be real hard to eat those
cardboard entrees again."

I resist the temptation to remind him that there is no processed
paper products included in rations aboard the Enterprise as I take a
bite of one of the grape leaves. I must admit, he has a point that
such fresh ingredients will be lacking.

"SpockI've been wanting to say this for a while and I just couldn't
until now Thank you. For everything. For making me see the
healer and making me take a vacation and for choosing such a
wonderful spot that feels like home. I can never express my
gratitude properly. Exceptthank you."

"Your welcome, doctor. I feel certain you would have done the same
for me"

He smiles and sets a hand out tentatively on the tabletop, hand
facing up. "I wouldthought I hope you will never need it."

I touch his hand with my own and feel a warm swirl of emotions and
tenderness. He doesn't flinch, only grips my hand tightly and I
look up into his eyes.

"And Spock? Call me Leonard."

^*^*^* End ^*^*^*^