Disclaimer: Paramount owns Trek, but JJ Abrams just might have a claim come May…I, of course, can't claim anything, except this story.

Summary: After the events of 'The Tholian Web', McCoy and Spock discuss how viewing the tape Jim left for them has changed their relationship to one another.

Beta: Anna Amuse and SL Watson. As always, heartfelt thanks ladies. This would not have been possible without each of you, on so many levels. ;-)

Our Brother's Keepers

Spock's voice sounded over the intercom: "Transporter room, do you have him?"

McCoy heard the Lieutenant open the channel, completing the circuit. He answered from across the room, still kneeling at Kirk's side, interrupting before the transporter operator could speak, his voice raised to compensate for the distance. "Yes, we have him, Captain. And he is alive and well."

Captain? McCoy had called Spock 'Captain'. Naval tradition aside, the doctor never would have done so unless they had believed Kirk dead. Had things really been that bad?

"C'mon Jim, let's get you to sickbay. The triox injection should help you breathe, but I want to make sure the interphase didn't have any effect on you physiologically, and I need to check your mental status as well – floating around in the middle of that had to have been much worse for you than it was for us on the ship, and that was bad enough," McCoy said distractedly, checking the readings on his scanner and frowning slightly.

"Bones, exactly what happened while I was gone?" Kirk asked, struggling to his feet.

"Not now Jim, Spock and Scotty have everything under control. There'll be time to explain it all later. Right now my priority is making sure you're of sound mind and body," the doctor stated matter-of-factly, grasping Kirk's arm in an effort to provide support.

The captain opened his mouth to protest, but found he didn't have the breath for it.

"See, that'll teach you to argue with your friendly country doctor. Now just be quiet and let the shot work." He turned to Chapel. "Christine, can you call for a gurney?"

"Belay that," Kirk wheezed. "I may be short of breath, but I can walk to sickbay under my own power." The last bit came out as a hoarse croak.

"Damn, stubborn, pig-headed—," McCoy muttered under his breath, but the hazel eyes locked with his own, saying what the voice could not. "All right, if you insist, Captain," the doctor acquiesced, "but let me and Chris help you."

***

McCoy stepped into the main ward of sickbay and was not surprised to see Spock there, standing quietly beside the captain's bed. Jim was sleeping, none the worse for wear after his ordeal, but McCoy had insisted on keeping him here overnight, despite the captain's protests. They had had entirely too many close calls of late, the doctor feeling, somewhat irrationally, that if he could just keep Kirk in his sight, he could somehow manage to keep him safe.

"What is his status, Doctor?" came Spock's deep baritone, the Vulcan not turning around.

"Well, there seem to be no ill effects from him being trapped in the interphase, and his psych profile showed normal, even without the benefit of the Theragen derivative," McCoy commented, moving to stand beside the Vulcan. "It probably has something to do with the fact that he was all alone out there. Our problem seemed to have been increased hostility among the crew due to their close proximity to one another. Being by himself may have kept that aspect of it from manifesting in him. I gave him the antidote intravenously anyway, just as a precaution, in case of a delayed reaction now that he is back among us."

Spock's eyes flicked to the monitor, beeping and chirping softly in what passed for sickbay's night. "His oxygen levels are still below normal," the Vulcan stated flatly.

"Yes, they are, but they have been steadily improving and should be within normal limits by morning," McCoy reported.

"Can you explain the cause?" Spock asked.

"Some of his red blood cells seem to have undergone an unexplained hemolysis during his time out there, but the destruction of his cells has ceased, and I gave him a shot of hemopoetinax to boost his red cell production rate. His count has been steadily improving and should be in the acceptable range in a few more hours," the doctor informed him.

"Would not a transfusion remedy that situation?" Spock asked brusquely.

"Yes it would, but his levels are not critical, and this way, I have a reason to keep him here overnight. I do want to make sure he doesn't experience any of the madness that affected the crew," McCoy explained, reaching to straighten the sheet that had slipped from the captain's shoulders.

"It was my understanding that using the Theragen derivative would prevent such an occurrence," Spock questioned, pinning the doctor with an inquiring stare.

"All right, Spock, 'what would you have me say?'" McCoy countered grumpily, attempting to keep his voice low in an effort to avoid waking Kirk. "I'm just plain worried about him, just my own human weakness shining through. Can you honestly say that you aren't? You sure gave a fair impression that you were when you risked this ship and the lives of everyone on board to get him back," the CMO stated gruffly, annoyance evident in his tone, his glare cold and penetrating.

Spock reflected on that for a moment, his gaze shifting once again to the face of his sleeping captain. "I am…concerned for his well-being," he acknowledged, struggling to find the proper words to describe his desire to protect the captain.

"Uh huh. I thought so. Now we're getting somewhere." McCoy's tone softened, and he laid a tentative hand on the Vulcan's arm. "It's okay, Spock, I understand. This is what Jim meant about us being at each others' throats, and how we had to get past this for the welfare of the ship."

He paused, but when Spock kept silent he added, "Jim saw something in us, in our 'relationship', that he found worthy. I think we need to discuss it." McCoy started for his office.

Spock remained immobile at Kirk's bedside. McCoy turned to face him once again.

"You coming? Kinda hard for us to talk things out if you don't join me," he remarked, sarcasm coloring his words.

"There is nothing to discuss, Doctor," Spock assured him.

McCoy's anger flared. "Really? You think Jim was wrong? Do you have so little regard for his opinions, his insight, that you're willing to dismiss it outright?" That had hurt. He watched Spock grapple with that accusation. "C'mon Spock, 'yield to the logic of the situation.'"

"Very well, Doctor."

***

They had adjourned to McCoy's office, the Vulcan seated in front of the CMO's desk, looking at the doctor expectantly, one eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to proceed.

"You want a drink, Spock?" McCoy asked, reaching for the bourbon he favored on the shelf behind him. "I know I'm gonna need one."

"Thank you, no," came the answer.

"Suit yourself." The doctor shrugged his shoulders, seating himself and pouring two fingers of the strong whiskey into his glass. He took a healthy sip, setting his glass back down on the desk.

"You know, Spock, we shouldn't tell Jim we watched the tape," McCoy began.

"A lie, Doctor?" the First Officer questioned, a skeptical eyebrow on the rise.

"An omission," McCoy retorted crustily. "I believe even you have been guilty of that in the past. He's been through enough recently; he doesn't need to know that we fell apart the instant we thought he was gone. He deserves better. Besides, the tape proved that he has some faith in us. The least we can do is to show that that faith is not misplaced.

"He was trying to tell us that we each have our strengths and weaknesses, and if we work together, we can help each other," McCoy argued, tapping his index finger lightly on the desk for emphasis.

"His point does have some merit," Spock conceded.

"Look Spock, I know I've given you plenty of grief in the past, but you did good today. I really thought we had no hope of getting Jim back, and if you had listened to my argument to leave, we wouldn't have," the doctor commented to the back of his hands, resting easily on the edge of the desk. This was a hard thing for him to say, to admit even to himself, let alone to Spock, but Jim's insight had made him bold, and he forged steadily on, lest that intrepidness should falter. "All in all, I'm glad it was you at the helm during this crisis," he finished somewhat uncomfortably, finally raising his eyes and glancing at the Vulcan. His mind admitted to that which he found himself unable to say aloud to this man: I do respect and value your judgment. You are by far the best First Officer in the fleet, and I consider it an honor and privilege to be your friend.

He watched Spock carefully process the words he had spoken before supplying hesitantly, "It was your skill and determination that enabled you to quickly find the antidote, thus preventing the spread of the madness throughout the crew. Had that not occurred, rescuing the captain would not have been possible. If it were not for your abilities, Jim would certainly be lost," Spock admitted, his eyes fixed on his steepled fingers, unable to meet McCoy's gaze in the face of such a personal revelation. "And this is not the first time you have had a hand in saving the captain's life, or my own," he added quietly.

"It's not like you haven't ever returned the favor – even though Flavius was a 'child of the son', given the right stimulus, and I'm talking the whip on his back here, he would have made shish kebab out of me as sure as shooting," McCoy admitted softly.

Spock did glance up at him then, and he watched the Vulcan's Adam's apple bob a few times, but Spock remained silent. His eyes were warm and welcoming, however, a look the doctor had only ever seen Spock bestow on the captain.

McCoy dipped his head in acknowledgment, and slowly let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "See, that wasn't so hard," he remarked, grinning wryly, "although arguing with you is a lot easier." And safer, he added to himself.

"Indeed," Spock agreed with some alacrity.

They lapsed into silence again, McCoy thinking carefully about how to approach the next stage of this discussion. He'd probably never have the opportunity to do so again, so he'd damn well better get it right the first time. He took a sip of liquid courage and sighed, eyeing the Vulcan carefully.

"Spock, surely you must realize that when I'm needling you to accept and understand your feelings, I'm trying to prepare you for the day we both fear," McCoy began hesitantly.

"And what day is that, Doctor?" Spock countered, feigning ignorance.

"You know damn well what I mean," the doctor snapped angrily, then took a breath and proceeded a little more calmly. "What almost happened today, what almost happened on Vulcan a year and a half ago. What could very easily have happened when Jim fought the Gorn." He started to say something, thought better of it, and began again. "What's going to happen to you when the day comes that we don't get Jim back, or I can't put him back together again? Care to speculate on how you'd react to that scenario?" McCoy asked earnestly, his voice echoing the concern of his words, his eyes searching Spock's.

"I might ask the same question of you, Dr. McCoy. Jim's death would have a great impact on you as well," Spock replied, somewhat indifferently, obviously trying to turn the focus of this conversation away from himself.

"Look Spock, I know you're not that dense – don't make me have to spell it out for you," he lectured, with more patience than he felt. "I'm human after all, and while it would be difficult at first, I'd be able to work through it. I'm accustomed to dealing with my emotions. You, on the other hand–,"

"—are Vulcan. We have our own methods of handling such things," Spock countered calmly.

"Uh-uh, Spock, you don't get to play the Vulcan card, because like it or not, you are half-human. That's what Jim meant when he said there was human insight, as well as human error in you." Spock crossed his arms over his chest at this, his posture and bearing fairly oozing his disagreement with that statement. "I have no doubt your Vulcan half could handle it; it's the human half I'm worried about," McCoy stated resolutely.

"I have managed this aspect of my nature all my life, Doctor. What makes you think I would be unable to do so in this situation?" Spock regarded him evenly, not a flicker of emotion visible on his face.

"C'mon, Spock, I've got eyes. I saw how you reacted when Jim as good as came back from the dead. And besides, I'm willing to bet there isn't another being in the universe closer to you than Jim Kirk, including your own mother," McCoy answered honestly.

Spock chose not to respond, focusing on his hands once again, which the Vulcan had tucked into his lap, but the small sigh that escaped his lips made McCoy realize he was on the right track. He switched gears, trying for a less confrontational tone. "And it's not just this, Spock. There's more to what Jim said than even he'd care to admit," McCoy asserted confidently.

"How so, Doctor?" Spock asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Jim is a man who acts first and thinks later. An impulse strikes him and before he allows a rational thought to cross his mind, he's already doing. Know what I mean?"

Spock pondered that. Indeed he did. Flashes of Jim's impulsive acts paraded across his memory: Taunting Trelane, ordering the Horta to be killed on sight, and then failing to do so himself. Angering Spock to the point that the Vulcan had nearly caused the captain serious harm as Kirk tried to get the spores to release their hold on his First Officer. Catching Edith as she stumbled on the stairs, knowing that she had to die to preserve their future. Accepting T'Pring's challenge, before understanding fully the nature of the combat which would follow. There were so many instances. He could not deny that his Captain often acted on his feelings, his intuition, without logically evaluating the situation. Sometimes it worked to their advantage, as it had with corbomite, but just as often the results were unpredictable, and sometimes downright dangerous.

"What does this have to do with the tape we viewed?" Spock inquired, somewhat confused.

"Jim said we should rely on each other to protect the ship – and the same is true for him. It will take the two of us working together to ensure that he survives this five-year mission. Left to his own devices, he'll go the way of Matt Decker, Ron Tracy and Garth of Izar, not to mention the captains of the Intrepid and Defiant. It's in our mutual best interest to bury some of this veiled hostility we insist on flinging at one another and channel it into more productive avenues." McCoy was considering him with naked concern etched on his face.

In that instant, it all became crystal clear for Spock. He needed McCoy's guidance and support, just as much as the doctor did his, if they were ever going to be able to protect Jim from himself. He realized at that moment that everything McCoy had said and done in the past with regard to breaking down some of his Vulcan barriers had not been done with malicious intent, but because in his own irascible, crotchety way, McCoy thought of him as a friend. A different kind of friend than Jim was to the doctor, but someone he felt he could trust and rely on nevertheless. It was their distinctly different personalities that often led to their verbal sparring matches, not a lack of genuine affection between the two of them. His cheeks burned as he remembered naming McCoy his friend and asking him to stand with Kirk at his wedding. Afterwards, he had attributed the impulse that made him request the doctor's presence to his emotional instability at the time, but now he realized shamefully that he truly did consider McCoy to be a friend. He shuddered to think how different the outcome on Vulcan would have been, had McCoy not been there. You proved that day, and on numerous occasions since then, that you are indeed my friend, and I am honored to name you as such, Spock reflected silently.

"Perhaps you are correct, Doctor. It would seem the logical thing to do," Spock replied, meeting McCoy's eyes and allowing a flash of warmth to escape from his own.

"So? Friends? Allies? At least where Jim is concerned?" McCoy asked hopefully.

"I believe that would be a mutually beneficial arrangement," Spock admitted.

"Truce, then, at least with regard to saving one entirely too headstrong James T. Kirk from himself. Oh, I'll still disagree with you when I think you're wrong – which is most of the time – but it's a place to start," McCoy said, grinning, his eyes twinkling, holding a hand out to the Vulcan.

Spock had never been comfortable touching humans, and with the exception of Jim Kirk, only did so when absolutely necessary, and yet he extended his hand as well, grasping the doctor's in a strong grip. It was not nearly as unpleasant as he'd imagined it would be, McCoy's warmth and solicitude rolling off him in palpable waves. Spock found a strange comfort in that. He released the doctor's hand, depositing his own in his lap.

"However, Spock," McCoy countered, "I swear by all that's sacred, if you breathe one word of this to Jim I'll–," he paused for dramatic effect, scissoring his fingers over his own ears, "—I'll bob your ears faster than you can say 'jackrabbit,'" he finished with a flourish.

"That would undoubtedly displease my mother," Spock responded calmly. "In any case, as unaccustomed as I am to finding myself to be in agreement with you, I must concur," Spock said, his gentle tone softening the harshness of his words, "this conversation should remain strictly between the two of us—,"

"What conversation?" Both men visibly started in their seats. A very rumpled starship captain was poking his head into the doctor's office, obviously trying to suppress a yawn.

McCoy exchanged glances with Spock. Here we go – our first chance to try it out.

"I was just explaining to Spock here that he is the most obstinate, inflexible, green-blooded despot ever to grace the decks of a starship," McCoy announced forcefully.

"The doctor disagreed with my reasoning to stay behind in an effort to rescue you, Captain," Spock translated.

"Now hold on just a damn minute," McCoy spluttered, "don't you go putting words in my mouth, you–,"

"Gentleman, please," Kirk interjected, arms out in front of him, palms turned up in a show of surrender. "Don't you two ever stop? I almost makes one wish for the peace and quiet of his own, private universe." The captain sighed wistfully, raising his eyes skyward.

McCoy nodded conspiratorially at Spock and rose to his feet, taking several steps towards Kirk, who had shifted his position and was now trying to give the impression he was holding up the door jamb with his shoulder. "Jim, you should get back to bed. You're still a little anemic, which is causing the tiredness," the doctor said, all business now, turning the captain and steering him once again towards his diagnostic bed. Spock followed a few steps behind.

Kirk stopped in front of the bed, turning to face the two of them. "Yeah, I know, but I heard raised voices, and when I realized it was you two, I figured I'd better intervene before it came to blows." He graced McCoy with a mischievous grin.

"I can assure you, Captain, there is nothing the doctor could ever say which would cause me to strike him," Spock intoned, mild distaste awash in his voice.

"Actually Spock, it wasn't Bones I was worried about," Kirk admitted frankly.

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence, Jim," the doctor remarked coolly. "We Southern gentlemen don't resort to fisticuffs," he said diffidently, a haughty air accompanying his words.

"Yes, as I recall it was more likely to be pistols at twenty paces," Spock remarked, an eyebrow on the rise, hands clasped firmly behind his back, head cocked slightly to one side.

McCoy glanced sharply at the Vulcan.

Jim laughed, shook his head, and climbed back into bed. "Yep, I definitely need to get rested up before I have to deal with you two again. Now if you'll excuse me," he remarked, pulling the covers up to his chin and rolling onto his side, closing his eyes.

***

As the two walked away from his bedside, Kirk opened his eyes slightly and observed his CMO and First Officer. They stopped just shy of the sensor which would open the doors to the corridor, heads bent close, talking quietly, the doctor plucking at Spock's sleeve. Kirk was surprised when the Vulcan didn't visibly shrink from the CMO's touch. McCoy chuckled softly, to which Spock nodded his head, and turned and disappeared into the corridor, the doctor heading for his office. Well, that was a whole new can of worms. He mulled over what he had just witnessed. It struck him as distinctly odd. Hadn't they been sniping at each other as usual just a few short minutes ago? He vowed to get to the bottom of it tomorrow, when his eyelids didn't feel like they weighed thirty pounds each. He drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a small, confused smile playing over his face.