Title: Tribulations
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: An encounter during an away mission reveals a problem between Kirk, Spock, and McCoy.
A/N: I’m supposed to be working on another story, but is it necessarily a bad thing that I found myself writing OT3 fic instead?
Or read at AO3.

Metamorphosis is a deep sleep in which the body changes and matures. It is a sensitive time for Nine-Three-One and his brothers, as they still have many stages through which to mature before they can be considered ready to find mates.

That Nine-Three-One is woken from Metamorphosis earlier than is proper does not make him agreeable towards those who roused him. Worse yet, Nine-Three-Three has been awakened too.

Nine-Three-One projects his annoyance at said brother. You were to remain in the chamber.

His brother’s sensory arms ripple. But what kind of creatures are they? Where do they come from?

Nine-Three-Three rolls forward across the floor in his excitement. Nine-Three-One has to catch a hold of him before he goes too far. As the older one, he tries to project the authority of an Elder. Return to the chamber.

Nine-Three-Three retracts his sensory arms in dismay. Metamorphosis is not interesting. This is interesting. With a sideways lurch, he nearly swivels out of Nine-Three-One’s grasp. Look! They use two arms for walking! And they make noises!

Nine-Three-Three is not incorrect. There is one in particular who is making quite a lot of noise. This one waves his two not-for-standing arms at a companion creature much in the same way that Nine-Three-One’s youngest brothers do before their Metamorphoses are scheduled to begin.

They will leave, he projects, if we do not reveal ourselves.

But maybe they need help. Maybe they are lost. Maybe they—

Nine-Three-One changes hue. Enough!

With a loud plop, Nine-Three-Three’s sensory arms disappear into the mass of his body.

Beyond the alcove sheltering them, the three visitors visibly still.

Apologies, projects Nine-Three-One in haste. Come. We will return to the chamber together.

Nine-Three-Three’s arms gradually reappear. Must we?

Nine-Three-One extends an arm for reattachment to Nine-Three-Three in case they must perform a quick retreat. He does not like that the creatures are looking in their direction, and insists, It is safer.

Oh, they’re coming over here, Brother! Do you think they can see us?

Nine-Three-One hopes not. The shelter is constructed to camouflage them. The filaments of his sensory arms stiffen instinctively, a sign of warning none of his kind ignore if they want to one day become Elders. He latches onto Nine-Three-Three and begins to draw him backwards through the wall matter.

To the chamber now. Make no noise—

Nine-Three-Three somehow manages to detach himself and instead darts toward the danger.

Appalled, Nine-Three-One shouts after him.

“Sweet Jesus, what is that?” Leonard nearly yelps when a colorful blur shoots straight out of the wall.

But he doesn’t get an opportunity to see exactly what it is because Spock pushes in front of him, phaser raised, and orders, “Stand back, Doctor.”

Stand back? Ha!

Leonard starts to sidle around the Vulcan at the same time Jim closes the gap by moving sideways until he is shoulder-to-shoulder with Spock.

“Stay back, Bones. Spock, what are we looking at?”

“Most likely a lifeform, Captain. However I can conjecture no further without a tricorder.”

“Luckily I got one!” Leonard chimes in and sticks out an arm over the top of Spock’s and Jim’s shoulders, device in hand. “Only you gotta let me get a little closer for an accurate reading.”

He presses forward, but neither Jim nor Spock budge. Instead the two boneheads exchange a look.

“I think we’ve seen enough, don’t you, Mr. Spock?” Jim says.

Spock replies, “Affirmative. A reading is not necessary at this time, Captain.”

“What?” Leonard is shocked enough to sputter his surprise.

Spock never turns down at a scientific discovery! What’s the matter with… Oh.

Oh no.

The colorful blur is actually a squat-looking little blob of blue. It has a dozen or so tentacle-like appendages, all of which are waving at the three men madly.

Having come to a revelation he does not like, Leonard is determined to scan the thing even if it kills him.

He withdraws his arm and, shoulders slumping, pretends to return his medical tricorder to his medkit. Only once Spock stops watching him like a hen watching its baby chick does Leonard dart around the other side of the Vulcan before Spock can grab at him.

He drops to a knee in front of the small creature, hearing at his back an alarmed “Bones!”

All of the creature’s tentacles still with the exception of one. It quivers minutely but seems to find the courage to perk up.

“Hey there, little guy,” Leonard says softly, tuning his tricorder while he talks. “Nothin’ to be afraid of… Spock,” he hisses out the side of his mouth, “I swear if you interrupt me right now, your next physical will be the most embarrassing event of your life.”

Spock jerks back his hand and, a moment later, straightens. Although the Vulcan has forgone interference, he sounds very displeased about his decision—and Leonard’s: “Doctor, I must censure you. You have behaved most erratically and without regard to your safety.”

Leonard’s tricorder whirs loudly as it begins to run a series of scans. Unfortunately it isn’t loud enough to drown out the Vulcan, he thinks. “Yeah, yeah. Speaking of erratic, I don’t appreciate being treated like I’m incompetent just because there was a little bit of trouble on the last mission.”

“That wasn’t a little bit of trouble,” Jim argues, standing close enough that Leonard can see him out of the corner of his eye. “You almost died, Bones.”

Leonard turns his head to glare at the fool. “And just how many times have you or Spock nearly gotten killed, Jim? But if I tried to treat you like fragile glass, you’d never stand for it! Yet I’m supposed let you stick me with a double standard?” He snorts derisively. “Bullhocky.”

“Leonard, we have discussed this. You said you understood—”

“Understanding is one thing,” Leonard interrupts Spock. “So is humoring you—but I can only do it up to a certain point.” Several of the creature’s tentacles had started waving as if in response to Leonard’s ire. Now one of them extends to move along his arm, clearly curious. Without thinking, Leonard brushes it aside. “We just reached that point.”

“Enough,” his captain declares, flipping open a communicator. “We’re not fighting about this here. Kirk to Enterprise. Three to—”

Jim stops speaking. Leonard turns to look where Jim is looking. The rock wall is no longer a rock wall; it is solid metal, engraved with intricate designs and symbols. In front of the metal wall is another much larger blob than the little one at Leonard’s feet. It is also a deep hue of red.

Red, Leonard thinks, stomach sinking, is the color of anger.

That would explain why its thick tentacle-like appendages are extended as though it wants to strangle somebody: namely Leonard, who has probably offended it somehow.

This time Leonard doesn’t have a thing to say against Spock hauling him to his feet.

“Captain,” the Vulcan remarks in a flat tone, “I suggest we retreat to the outer cavern at once.”

“Agreed, Mr. Spock.”

Jim grabs the arm of Leonard’s upon which Spock doesn’t already have a tight grip, and together the three men hurry back the way they came.

They are interesting, projects Nine-Three-Three when Nine-Three-One starts inspecting him for injuries.

Nine-Three-Three, you have upset me. Why did you reveal yourself? Do you know how many rules you have violated? What if the creatures had hurt you?

Nine-Three-One’s brother ignores the admonishments, explaining instead, I like the noisy one. He was not scared of me.

But you should have been scared of him. You should have gone to the chamber as instructed.

Nine-Three-Three’s sensory arms quiver. Why was he unhappy, Brother? His less noisy ones were making him unhappy.

There is no point in teaching sense to this brother, Nine-Three-One decides. He will never have sense. He is too full of questions and curiosity. It can only be hoped that the Metamorphosis will mature him.

Nine-Three-One prods Nine-Three-Three back to the alcove. It is not our concern if they are unhappy. They will leave.

They will leave but we do not leave. Why do we never go to other places?

Nine-Three-One cannot answer this question. He projects instead that he has no more patience for inquisitive younger brothers who do not find their Metamorphosis interesting.

Yet Nine-Three-Three does not seem to be bothered by such sentiment or the lack of answers to his questions. Instead, the little one bobs ahead of Nine-Three-One to the chamber containing the remainder of their sleeping family, his excitement undiminished.

Leonard steps down from the platform, grateful in every sense of the word to be back on the ship. He turns toward the exit of the Transporter Room but stops short when he hears a soft, questioning “Bones?“—a request to stay.

As ornery as Leonard can be sometimes, he doesn’t like to fight. He also doesn’t want to not fight, to give in, when it’s time to stand up for himself. But how can such a thing be done without hurt feelings on one or both sides?

Jim doesn’t say anything more, just comes to stand next to him. As Leonard looks on, Spock has a quick word with the transporter tech, who then quickly exits the room.

“We shouldn’t do this here either,” Leonard feels he has to say. “It won’t look good if three of the ship’s senior officers have a public spat.”

“Who says we’re going to fight, Bones?”

“Seems inevitable to me, Jim.”

For some reason, Jim smiles. “The inevitable is exactly this.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Jim means that our inclination and need to protect one another is only logical.”

“I’m fairly sure he wouldn’t have used the word ‘logical’,” Leonard mutters but does not bristle. Although it took a while, he can now discern when Spock speaks with affection, even if the Vulcan still sounds matter-of-fact at the same time. It never fails to warm Leonard’s heart, knowing that Spock—whom at one time Leonard thought was only capable of loving Jim—cherishes him in a very real and unguarded way.

“He’s smiling,” Jim remarks to Spock. “He can’t be too angry at us if he’s smiling.”

Leonard does his best to transform his smile into something more displeased. “Oh, I’m still hoppin’ mad, Jim!”

Jim seems to think not as he trails his fingers from Leonard’s elbow to wrist, then takes Leonard’s hand in his own. Jim makes the show of affection seem so easy and natural that it always brings Leonard close to blushing.

And he’s an old country doctor, damn it! He doesn’t blush or like the way Spock says “Leonard” (such as Spock is doing now) or let his lovers get away with a bunch of over-protectiveness nonsense just because he knows they care about him too much rather than too little.

He doesn’t realize Spock has been touching his other hand and eavesdropping on his emotions until Spock informs Jim, “Leonard is well-aware of why we are motivated to keep him safe.”

“That’s good,” Jim says. “Then maybe he can forgive us for getting carried away.”

Damn. He’s fast losing ground with these two.

Leonard pulls away from both sets of hands and folds his arms so he can pretend he doesn’t already miss touching them. “I don’t know that I should. Just how far would you have gone? Would you have prevented me from doing my job, even at the cost of letting one of you die?”

Jim and Spock look at one another.

“Oh, enough with that!” Leonard declares. “Use your words, fellas. A conversation about me should include me.”

“Well, Bones,” Jim says, “I’m not very keen on the idea that any of us dies. But to answer your question, I don’t see that I would have a choice in the matter. You tend to do what you want… which is the problem.”

“What?”

“If you will recall,” Spock inserts, “the planet of the Onlies and in particular that you injected yourself with a cure which might have very well killed you.”

“I explained that.”

“Or Gem,” Jim adds. “Remember her? Because what I remember is you taking the choice out of our hands.”

Leonard purses his mouth. “First of all, you had already endured plenty, Jim; and second, to a Vulcan having his mind destroyed is worse than death. I think I—”

“No,” Jim interrupts, for the first time sounding slightly angry since the beginning of their conversation, “you didn’t think. You’re the doctor, Bones. You’re the best chance any of us have at survival when we can’t take care of ourselves, so by rights you should never be the first to sacrifice yourself.”

“What good is that if I’m the only one left!”

“Leonard.”

He turns on Spock. “What good am I if I don’t save you? What good am I without you?”

He hears a strange noise from Jim, but Jim has his eyes shut when he looks around.

Eyes still closed, Jim repeats, “‘What good am I without you?'” He opens his eyes to meet Leonard’s. “Do you know, I ask myself that question all of the time.”

Leonard frowns. “Why?”

But Jim doesn’t answer, instead looking to Spock. “And do you know because I asked myself that question all of the time… I finally sat down, thought about it, and realized that it meant I loved you?”

“I did not,” Spock replies.

Jim returns his attention to Leonard. “Bones, there are some things I would like to fault you for, but then I’d have to fault myself for them too.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along, Jim.”

“I guess I hadn’t truly listened until now.”

Leonard looks ceiling-ward and sighs. The sigh turns rather quickly into a chuckle. “Lord, we’re all pots and kettles here.” He drops his gaze back to Jim and Spock. “At this point I don’t think a one of us can swear to change his ways. How about we agree to disagree?”

“Yes,” Jim answers quickly, lifting a hand to his temple. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

Leonard looks to Spock, who in turn raises his eyebrow.

“What?” Jim wants to know, glancing between them. “It’s true!”

“Sure, Jim,” Leonard agrees too easily. “Say, Spock… do you want to go over those tricorder readings with me?”

“Of course, Doctor.”

“All right then. Jim, go lie down before you actually get a headache. Spock ‘n I will swing by later to check on you.”

Jim sighs deeply. “You both always do this. Why must you abandon me in my hour of need?”

“Because we are scientists, Captain,” Spock replies. “It is our nature to pursue the problem that proves the most challenging in any given moment—which at this particular time is the study of a newly discovered lifeform.”

Jim gapes. Leonard laughs so hard his eyes start to water. Spock gives the impression of someone who has no clue what he said to elicit either response.

Finally Leonard wipes at his eyes. “Thank you,” he tells them both. “I needed that.”

Jim closes his mouth but his eyes give away his amusement. “You’re welcome, Bones. Now move along, both of you, before I figure out what the downsides are to this relationship—but don’t forget your promise to visit.”

Leonard snorts softly and hands his tricorder to Spock. “Yes, sir. C’mon, hobgoblin, there’s a research lab with your name on it.”

“There is in fact a laboratory with my name, Doctor—”

Leonard lets Spock go on, smiling to himself. As the door to the Transporter Room slides open to let them through, he glances back over his shoulder to find Jim watching them openly with fondness. He catches Jim’s eye, and Jim winks at him.

The door closes.

Leonard remarks to the Vulcan at his side as they transverse the corridor, “Do you think he knows we’re no good without him either?”

“I feel certain that he does. However,” Spock adds, “it would be remiss of us not to remind him occasionally.”

“Agreed.”

-Fini

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