TOS Seven Minutes NC-17 Spock/McCoy
Fandom: ST: TOS
Pairing: Spock/McCoy, MU!Spock/McCoy
Warnings: dark? 1/?
Timeline: During "Mirror, Mirror"
Notes: Part three in a series, first two aren't written yet. This part incomplete. One or more parts to follow.
WIP
"Captain," Scotty said, a touch of panic entering his voice, "we've barely got ten minutes."
"Let's go, Bones."
"I can't let him die, Jim," McCoy said. "You get on to the transporter room. I'll be there in five minutes."
"No longer," Kirk said.
"I guarantee it. Now, go on, please."
The others hurried out of the room, and McCoy returned his attention to his patient. Once more, his heart clenched as he took in the still figure on the diagnostic table. He knew that his Spock--what he could only think of as the real Spock--was alive and safe back in their own universe, but aside from that blasted beard this man looked so very much like him.
Checking the dosage one last time, McCoy emptied the syringe into Spock's arm. If this didn't work, he would be out of options. There was no time to preform surgery; not if he had any hopes of escaping this nightmare universe.
The flood of relief he felt, as Spock's eyes opened, was short lived. Spock grabbed his arm in a vise-like grip, and McCoy immediately realised the grave mistake that he had made. This Spock was nothing like his own. This Spock was a predator.
"Why did the captain let me live?" Spock asked, his voice deadly.
The bones in McCoy's arm screamed in agony--only a little more pressure and they would snap--and it took all of his control to remain standing, as Spock pushed him back against the wall.
Spock pressed his fingertips against the familiar points on McCoy's face. "Our minds are merging, Doctor," he said, his voice echoing inside McCoy's head. "Our minds are one. I feel what you feel. I know what you know."
This was nothing like the melds that he had shared with his own Spock. This Spock's mind tore through his own like a dagger, slicing through his defenses, and embedding itself in his very core. The very feel of it made him shudder: cold, ruthless logic, which did little to temper an inner, simmering, anger. He knew suddenly that this Spock hated him very much.
"You are not the McCoy that I know," Spock said from within his mind. "A parallel universe, and your captain waits even now, to return you to it. To it, and to him..."
Spock's mind seized onto McCoy's memories of his own universe: memories of his own Spock. Through the link, McCoy could feel a sudden surge of shock and jealous rage.
"In that world, you love him!" The fierce wave of hatred caused Spock's own shields to waver, and McCoy caught a chilling, jumbled glimpse of the relationship between this universe's Spock and McCoy: a dark bond that shared only pain, resentment, and hate.
McCoy's anger flared as Spock rifled through the most intimate of his memories. This man--this cruel mockery of his Spock--had no right to see these things, to leave his foul taint on what had been some of his most cherished memories. "Get out of my head!" he raged, fighting back against the mental intruder with all his might.
He might as well have been throwing sand at a brick wall. Spock was immovable: relentless in his attack. Moments from the past months flashed through McCoy's mind, as vivid as when they had happened. With each, Spock's anger grew, and he began pushing the memories aside, forcing his own in their place.
A Spock who lashed out in fear and anger, blaming McCoy for his blindness, and driving a wedge into what had once been a formidable alliance. A McCoy who had not offered himself during Spock's Pon Farr, but who had been taken unwillingly, condemning them both to the endless torment of a corrupted mental bond. A bond that did not offer strength, but instead slowly poisoned both their minds.
McCoy clung desperately to the memories that he knew were his, but as the onslaught continued it became harder and harder to tell the difference. "Even if you erase my entire mind, it won't change anything," he said, "the past is the past, in any universe."
"Perhaps," Spock agreed, "but I will take some comfort, knowing that we are not the only ones to suffer. In any universe." Pulling away slightly, he drew back his arm and slammed McCoy's head into the wall.
Dazed from both the blow to the head, and the abruptly severed meld, McCoy fell to his knees, fighting to remain conscious. Spock's voice seemed to come from a great distance, now that he was hearing it through his ears, instead of from inside his mind.
"You will return to your universe," Spock promised, in a cold voice, "and there you will destroy him, as you destroyed me."
Pairing: Spock/McCoy, MU!Spock/McCoy
Warnings: dark? 1/?
Timeline: During "Mirror, Mirror"
Notes: Part three in a series, first two aren't written yet. This part incomplete. One or more parts to follow.
WIP
"Captain," Scotty said, a touch of panic entering his voice, "we've barely got ten minutes."
"Let's go, Bones."
"I can't let him die, Jim," McCoy said. "You get on to the transporter room. I'll be there in five minutes."
"No longer," Kirk said.
"I guarantee it. Now, go on, please."
The others hurried out of the room, and McCoy returned his attention to his patient. Once more, his heart clenched as he took in the still figure on the diagnostic table. He knew that his Spock--what he could only think of as the real Spock--was alive and safe back in their own universe, but aside from that blasted beard this man looked so very much like him.
Checking the dosage one last time, McCoy emptied the syringe into Spock's arm. If this didn't work, he would be out of options. There was no time to preform surgery; not if he had any hopes of escaping this nightmare universe.
The flood of relief he felt, as Spock's eyes opened, was short lived. Spock grabbed his arm in a vise-like grip, and McCoy immediately realised the grave mistake that he had made. This Spock was nothing like his own. This Spock was a predator.
"Why did the captain let me live?" Spock asked, his voice deadly.
The bones in McCoy's arm screamed in agony--only a little more pressure and they would snap--and it took all of his control to remain standing, as Spock pushed him back against the wall.
Spock pressed his fingertips against the familiar points on McCoy's face. "Our minds are merging, Doctor," he said, his voice echoing inside McCoy's head. "Our minds are one. I feel what you feel. I know what you know."
This was nothing like the melds that he had shared with his own Spock. This Spock's mind tore through his own like a dagger, slicing through his defenses, and embedding itself in his very core. The very feel of it made him shudder: cold, ruthless logic, which did little to temper an inner, simmering, anger. He knew suddenly that this Spock hated him very much.
"You are not the McCoy that I know," Spock said from within his mind. "A parallel universe, and your captain waits even now, to return you to it. To it, and to him..."
Spock's mind seized onto McCoy's memories of his own universe: memories of his own Spock. Through the link, McCoy could feel a sudden surge of shock and jealous rage.
"In that world, you love him!" The fierce wave of hatred caused Spock's own shields to waver, and McCoy caught a chilling, jumbled glimpse of the relationship between this universe's Spock and McCoy: a dark bond that shared only pain, resentment, and hate.
McCoy's anger flared as Spock rifled through the most intimate of his memories. This man--this cruel mockery of his Spock--had no right to see these things, to leave his foul taint on what had been some of his most cherished memories. "Get out of my head!" he raged, fighting back against the mental intruder with all his might.
He might as well have been throwing sand at a brick wall. Spock was immovable: relentless in his attack. Moments from the past months flashed through McCoy's mind, as vivid as when they had happened. With each, Spock's anger grew, and he began pushing the memories aside, forcing his own in their place.
A Spock who lashed out in fear and anger, blaming McCoy for his blindness, and driving a wedge into what had once been a formidable alliance. A McCoy who had not offered himself during Spock's Pon Farr, but who had been taken unwillingly, condemning them both to the endless torment of a corrupted mental bond. A bond that did not offer strength, but instead slowly poisoned both their minds.
McCoy clung desperately to the memories that he knew were his, but as the onslaught continued it became harder and harder to tell the difference. "Even if you erase my entire mind, it won't change anything," he said, "the past is the past, in any universe."
"Perhaps," Spock agreed, "but I will take some comfort, knowing that we are not the only ones to suffer. In any universe." Pulling away slightly, he drew back his arm and slammed McCoy's head into the wall.
Dazed from both the blow to the head, and the abruptly severed meld, McCoy fell to his knees, fighting to remain conscious. Spock's voice seemed to come from a great distance, now that he was hearing it through his ears, instead of from inside his mind.
"You will return to your universe," Spock promised, in a cold voice, "and there you will destroy him, as you destroyed me."