The Vulcan Whisperer

The Vulcan Whisperer

Title:  The Vulcan Whisperer

Author:  Ster Julie

Codes:  TOS, S/Mc

Rating:  PG

Part 1 of 1


Summary:  Spock has memories of McCoy that should not have survived, logically speaking.  But since when had anything been logical between the two of them?




I keep having wisps of memories flit about in my mind, just beyond my conscious grasp.  Certainly, my mind has been a sort of primordial mess since the fal-tor pann. The Healers told me that it would not be unusual to be in a mental miasma as my katra resettled in my body


But these other thoughts, these memories—I should not recall them.  My katra-less body should not remember the spurts of growth I went through and the upheaval of the planet, or the pain we were both experiencing.


Are these false recollections?  Have I heard the stories so many times that they have transmuted into memories?


But one thing is constant.  I hear the voice of Leonard McCoy, the gentle, concerned drawl, honey-rich and bourbon mellow.  Now he speaks to me of this and that while in treatment on Vulcan, but I remember him doing this same thing on other occasions, like when we were in transit from Genesis to Vulcan, or when the treatment for my infestation with the Deneva parasites had deprived me of my vision. 


I should not be able to remember that discussion aboard the Klingon vessel.  My katra was not with me, but it was with him.  He had borne my spirit with the diligence of a sacred duty.  He must have also stored away my memories for me until I was ready to take them back and explore them on my own.


Sadly, not everything was restored to me.  The doctor was one thing I lost (He says I once called him Leonard, and even Len-kam on occasion.)  Obviously the Healers did not seem to think that restoring my relationship with this honorable man worthy of their time.  No matter.  We are rediscovering each other anew.  Each time I remember another facet of our relationship is an opportunity for celebration.


I will save using Doctor McCoy’s given forename until I am recovered enough to be truly intimate with him in body, mind and spirit.  Right now I am as confused as a babe, as unsettled as a cornered animal.  I am wild, and I find that his calm voice anchors me and tempers to stillness.


He has certainly tamed this one with his patience and gentle words, my forbearing doctor, my Vulcan Whisperer. 



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