Memories Lost

Title: Memories Lost

Author: Tempest

Series: TOS

Parings: S/Mc

Rating: PG

Summary: Spock has been reborn due to the Genesis planet. He and McCoy have undergone the fal-tor-pan, and his memories have been returned to him. All is as it should be. But why doesn’t McCoy remember?

Disclaimer: I don't own TOS. I never have, and I never will. Star Trek and all of its relations are property of Paramount and Viacom. I only own this story. Anybody who has a problem with the thought of men in homosexual relationships with each other, please stay away. Flames and feedback are welcome. Please ask before putting this anywhere.

Author’s Notes: I’ve been working on this story for a very long time, inspired by my obsession with this story arc and my fascination with computers. This isn’t the end of this story line; it’s merely the beginning. But that isn’t to say that there’s hope.


Memories Lost

By Tempest

March 1, 2007



      McCoy sat on the edge of Mount Seleya, watching as the twin suns rose, bouncing off T’Khut, Vulcan’s sister planet. The view was lovely, and two hours earlier, he would have thought it familiar, as well.


      The pain in his head was diminishing, thankfully, and soon the last physical remnant of this traumatic experience would be behind him. And once they fixed up the Klingon ship, the last actual remnant of the experience would be gone, too, and after a brief stint in prison, everything would be right as rain.


      McCoy smiled to himself at that thought. He had always known, one way or another, Kirk would get him arrested. Jim Kirk, his best friend, a known troublemaker. He could just see it now. The six of them would fly in on a Klingon ship, get quickly court-martialed, not only for their crimes against the Federation, but also as Klingon agents, as they will no doubt appear, and then jail time for all. Except the Admiral, who would probably get the gallows. And somehow, McCoy knew, he would escape. Despite his lack of a sense of adventure, lost sometime after the original mission, he was almost looking forward to this.


      Not surprising, however. His brain was mush at this point, swimming with jumbles and thoughts. McCoy almost pitied Spock, since he no doubt had a worse time off with it. Almost, of course. Spock was the one who did this to him, after all, and thus, the doctor could not bring himself to pity him. Not consciously.


      Halfway through his musings, Kirk came up behind him. An easy smile on his face, concealing his obvious concern. “This seat taken, Bones?”


      “Pull up a cliff, Jim.”


      Kirk sat down beside him, glancing up at the sunrise. “Anything good on this channel?”


      McCoy shrugged, “Just thinking, I guess.”


      “I can’t say I blame you, Bones. You’ve been through a lot. There’s plenty to think about, to digest. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Kirk was unsure whether or not he should clasp his friend on the shoulder. During the last few days McCoy had been “possessed” by Spock’s katra, he had grown sensitive to touch.


      “Just a headache. T’Lar said it’ll pass soon enough.” McCoy grew silent again. And then, he suddenly spun his head around, gazing at Kirk. “There has been something bothering me, Jim. You talked with Sarek, right? Maybe you can help me figure it out.”


      Kirk wanted to help his friend any way that he could. “If it’s mine to give, it’s yours, you know that, Bones.”


      McCoy took a deep breath, trying to regain his train of thought. “Why would he leave his katra to me like that?”


      “He didn’t have the time to prepare you, Bones. It was a life and death situation. I’m sure if there had been another way, he would have warned you, and would’ve been gentler.”


      “No...Jim, you’re missing my point. I mean, why would he leave it to me? You’re his best friend, the closest person in the universe to him.” McCoy’s look was pleading, one of confusion, of a man desperate to understand the answer to an age-old problem.


      Kirk’s eyebrow shot up sharply, in a mimic of Spock, an impression the whole crew had spent the last score perfecting. “You’re kidding, right?”


      McCoy’s countenance remained blank. “Jim, I mean it. He nearly killed me on this. You told me Sarek expected you. You were the last one to see him. You were the logical choice. There’s no reason for him to have done this.”


      Kirk stared at the Doctor, saying nothing, his mind racing. Something was wrong, desperately wrong. McCoy’s relationship with the Vulcan Scientist was the most important thing in the Doctor’s life. And this was too sick a joke for him, especially at this time. And that look...Kirk could tell when his friend lied, usually, and this time he could tell, he was serious. Recalling what Sarek had said regarding Spock, not to force information on him that he did not recall, he decided to use the same approach with McCoy, at least until he spoke with a healer. “I don’t know, Bones. I just don’t know.”



      For the first several days after the fal-tor-pan, Spock had been alone in seclusion. Nobody knew the status of his mind as far as how the fal-tor-pan would affect it, and nobody wanted to spur on memories, true or false, before they were meant to return. As a result, he'd had no visitors, and aside from periodic examinations with a Healer who also delivered his meals, his days were spent in meditation, reading, and sleep.


       Spock awoke suddenly on the stone slab he had been using as a bed. Memories, hundreds of them, came rushing back all at once. Some part of him knew that it was logical; T’Lar had told him memories would come in groups, of recentness, of importance, or if they were indirectly prompted. But that knowledge did little to shield his brain against the rediscovery. It was as if he were drowning.


      He began to begin a basic meditation, just enough to calm his breathing under the onslaught.


      When the memories stopped, and began to settle within his mind, returning to their proper places, it was as though a black veil had been lifted from before his eyes, but had been replaced, instead, by a heavy weight upon his shoulders.


      He knew why he had chosen Leonard McCoy to be the keeper of his katra. And with that knowledge, his emotions returned, spurred on by his memories. He needed to speak to him, to ask forgiveness of his husband, to make certain his rash action had not left negative effects upon the doctor’s mind.


      But as the Vulcan tried to climb to his feet, his knees went weak. As thin as he was, he legs seemed unable to hold his weight. Apparently he had not yet recovered his full strength, and combined with the draining effect of the new memories, he would not be getting far.


      Deciding it unwise to attempt to leave his room, he rang the chime to signal a Healer to give him assistance.



      Kirk had been in the middle of a conference with T’Lar, Sarek, and Amanda regarding both McCoy’s condition and the status of the crew’s diplomatic immunity when the chime sounded.


      Spock, as the first Vulcan to be brought back from the dead in the non-mythological history of Vulcan made him, was presently the most important creature on the planet, and so T’Lar, herself, decided to attend to him.


      Kirk, who had not seen his friend but for two minutes after the refusion, wished to see him, and to test him as well, regarding McCoy’s condition. He requested permission to visit with him, and T’Lar, surprisingly, granted it. For a Vulcan High Priestess, she was certainly not very frightening, or intimidating.


       They approached Spock’s chamber and T’Lar rang for entry. “Enter.” Kirk found Spock’s voice comforting; it was the same as before he had died. Perhaps the ordeal could soon be put behind them.


      T’Lar stepped in first, Kirk right behind her. She immediately went to Spock’s side. “You have called?”


      Spock nodded. “I wish to speak with Doctor McCoy. I would have gone myself, but I have yet to recover my strength.”


      Kirk’s eyes betrayed that something was wrong, even though T’Lar gave no indication.


      Spock's eyebrows narrowed with the silence from the other two. "Doctor McCoy is not suffering adverse effects from my hasty actions, is he? He is alive and healthy?"


      Kirk's mouth opened but all that he was able to manage was Spock's name, before T'Lar interrupted. "The Son of David is alive and physically healthy, yes, Son of Sarek."


      "You specified physically. He is not mentally sound?"


      Again, Kirk attempted to answer, but T'Lar cut him off. "He is mentally sound, but he is not whole."


      "What do you mean? Is there a lingering resonance?" Spock's concern was growing. The thought that he was trapped in this room due to his physical weakness while McCoy was in possible pain was not a comforting one.


      "Spock, he doesn't remember," Kirk managed to get in before T'Lar spoke. She turned around; giving him what could only be described as the evil eye. In that instant, Kirk could definitely see the resemblance between her and T'Pau.


      "He has amnesia?" Spock inquired, somewhat surprised. It was ironic, since McCoy was the physician among them. "A healer has been called, I assume?"


      "Yes, a Healer has examined the Son of David and has explained what is wrong with him."


      "Then there should be no difficulty. I have confidence in the medical abilities of all the Healers here. If he is ill now, and suffering a similar affliction to that which I suffer, a loss of memories, then perhaps it would be wise for us to stay together, so that we may relearn as One."


      T'Lar, not wanting to force any memories, decided to start with the explanation very slowly, as a means of ascertaining the status of his own memories. "Son of Sarek, why is it you desire so much to speak with the Son of David? Is it because he held your katra in death?"


      Spock shook his head, adjusting his position on his slab into one of more dignity. "Only partially. He held my katra and for that I am grateful. But I have recovered some of my memories, enough to know the true reason why I would have given my katra to him to hold. He and I were One previously, and I had wished to speak with him, to tell him that although I have recovered very few additional memories beyond these new ones and certain familial and cultural ones over the past few days, I do remember him, and I have need of him. Furthermore, since we were One previously, and he is having a similar difficulty, perhaps because I broke the mind rules and left my katra with a bondmate instead of with a blood relative,” Spock paused as he thought a moment, "or a designated Healer, it seems only logical that we should be One in this, as we each attempt to recover memories. It could only strengthen our bond to find our own memories as we are One."


      It was evident to T'Lar that Spock's logic was heavily influenced by emotions, but it was an encouraging sign that he was using logic to rationalize his own emotions, and she made a note to herself to begin computer tutoring for his reeducation soon. "He remembers himself, Son of Sarek, and his past. He, however, does not remember that which you have just recovered from the recesses of your own mind."


      It took Spock longer than it would have previously to find the meaning in that statement. But his control was impressive, as the only indication of an emotional response was a hardening of the lines in his face. “He does not remember our marriage,” he stated definitively.


      “Your relationship and some of the missions wherein you were stationed together,” Kirk said, taking advantage of T’Lar’s unexpected silence. “I’d been talking to him after the ceremony, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why you’d leave him your katra. He kept telling me it should have been me, because you and I were closer than you and he were. It nearly gave me a heart attack. So, I told your parents and T’Lar about it, and he had an examination confirming the gaps in his memory.”


      “And it is a direct result of my decision to leave him my katra?” Spock suddenly felt conflicting thoughts and emotions within him, which he worked hard to squelch in the presence of T’Lar. He did not wish to appear weak, but still, he was torn between regret for taking away McCoy’s memories of their relationship and a desire to show McCoy what he had forgotten, although since he had forgotten much more than McCoy, he knew the latter was both illogical and impossible.


      “Yes, Son of Sarek,” T’Lar responded, “the best way to explain the status of his memory loss is to compare it to a computer. A brain is electrically powered by neurons and has been described as an organic computer by most of the advanced races in this galaxy. And memories, just like computer’s data files, have certain coding so that they can be accessed easily by the brain. If two files have the same coding, much like with a computer, one will be deleted by the other. When you transferred your katra to the Son of David, the memories that you had in common, most of which had to do with your private relationship, intimate moments together, the fact you shared the same quarters, things of that nature, as well as missions where you were both together for a period of time, had the same coding as his prior memories of the incident. Your mind, with its telepathic abilities, were given precedence over his preexisting memories, and his memories were, as a result, deleted. This was not detected by him or anybody else, because your katra, with the memories, were still within his mind, so he still had access to them.


      “However, when the fal-tor-pan took place, your katra, and all of its memories, were removed from his mind and placed back within yours. Your copy of your shared memories were no longer accessible to him, and his own copy had already been deleted. It has led to the selective amnesia which is affecting him presently. He has certain memory gaps for most nights and vacations since your bonding, but his mind, in an attempt to compensate, has simply labeled these memory gaps as the phenomenon which occurs in a brain when a similar event or routine is repeated daily for years. The memories begin to blur and it becomes impossible to distinguish between them for any one incident. To fill these gaps, previous memories of his old routines before the beginning of your bonding have been duplicated and placed where there is space.”


      Spock was quiet after this revelation for many long moments. T’Lar, acting as a Vulcan, and one of the most well-trained ones at that, did not appear to move while Spock worked through his thoughts. Kirk sat where he was, feeling somewhat fidgety at the knowledge that his friends’ relationship was essentially destroyed.


      Finally, Spock looked up and replied, “Then it is theoretically possible to jar these memories back, perhaps with a merging of our minds?”


      “No.” T’Lar’s voice was firm and somewhat warmer than would be expected from one of her status, “The memories are not retrievable; they are gone. To attempt to jar them will not result in recovery, but in a shock similar to what you could face if one of your shipmates were to bring up an incident from your past which you have not yet found on your own. It could bring about a psychotic state. And if you do remember what you once were to him, and he to you, you will do your best to avoid such an occurrence.”


      Spock nodded. After this most selfish act of self-preservation, which had the undue repercussions of destroying his future, he would not do anything else against recommendation, lest it cause more damage. “I will not request his presence, then, T’Lar, but I do request that you...ask forgiveness of him, on my behalf, for any discomfort he may have experienced as a result of the lack of preparation regarding my actions prior to my death.”


      T’Lar nodded and indicated that Kirk should follow her. “Consider it done, Son of Sarek, and if you require anything in the future, simply ring and an attendant will arrive immediately.” With that, she left the room. Kirk followed, but stopped in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Spock,” Kirk said quietly, “And I’ll look after him until you’re better.” And then, he left too, leaving Spock alone with his new knowledge.




      Kirk had briefed the rest of the crew on the situation between Spock and McCoy, for two reasons. First, they were in this together, and there was no reason to keep secrets when they had all risked their lives unnecessarily. Second, the last thing he needed was for somebody to say something that would cause them to lose McCoy, as well as Spock, to this planet’s mental care facilities.


      It was difficult for the crew, watching McCoy walk around and knowing he was missing a large part of him. And worse, that he didn't even know it, couldn't pity himself for it.


      In the beginning, there were a couple of near slip-ups. Uhura asking if he planned to move back to “their” house, or Scott asking a question about Spock’s katra that implied more than it should. But as the days began to pass, it got easier.


      Kirk was having the worst time of it, though. One friend was holed up in reeducation and mysticism and if that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t talk about it to his other friend, because he had to censor every other word for content. This coupled with the fact that as soon as they left Vulcan, they were all going to be court-martialed. He talked it over some with Scott and the rest of the crew, but he didn’t want to burden them; they had their own problems, surely. And talking about personal issues with Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda was out of the question, they weren’t even his in-laws. In the end, he recorded lots of personal logs as a way of just letting out some steam.


      McCoy didn’t seem to have any other problems. He was healthy, he was nervous, of course, and his personality was certainly intact despite the memory gaps. He even had the sarcasm enough to rename the Klingon Ship “The Bounty,” and then retold the story to Chekov, who despite having never read it, was convinced it had been written by Tolstoy.


      And it was after almost three months had passed that the entire crew was going stir crazy to the point that Kirk had actually called Command to ask about the status of their Diplomatic Immunity. It seemed that Vulcan was covering them for the duration of Spock’s training, which was rapidly coming to an end.


      Despite the consequences that awaited them, they were homesick, and were ready to face their trial. And after another few days passed, they started for their trip home.


      Bags were packed, the ship was refueled and the controls translated into Federation Standard, and Sulu had managed to scrounge up some information on a merchant fleet that hires ex-Starfleet officers.


      Kirk had just taken the final vote from the crew, who had unanimously agreed to take their chances on Earth before a military tribunal, when he spotted a figure off in the distance. A figure that was drawing nearer. Probably, another acolyte from the Mountain to assess them of Spock’s situation, or maybe Sarek, although Kirk highly doubted that possibility. He had bigger problems with which to contend.


      Deciding not to ruminate on the possibilities, Kirk turned back around to listen to Scotty give the final update, hearing the Scotsman make a comment about the difficulties with the replicator, as well as the lingering odor.


      “Admiral.” A deep voice said, somewhat raspy as though it alone was aged by the desert winds of a thousand years. Different, but familiar. Kirk spun around quickly.


      “Spock! What are you doing here?”


      “It is where I belong, Admiral. Permission to come aboard?”


      “Granted, but,” Kirk pulled him aside, speaking in low tones, “He still doesn’t remember, and I don’t want you to get your hopes up. You heard what T’Lar said.”


      “I know,” Spock replied as he entered the ship. He knew that in his past he had been aboard Klingon ships, but not all of his service memories had been recovered. His present knowledge was confined to that found on data disks. The ship was lackluster and Spock found himself aching for the Enterprise, although he barely remembered serving aboard it. His memories of adventures were slowly returning, but they needed to be jarred by companionship, the Healers had told him.


      Kirk noticed how Spock’s eyes seemed to change, as though trying to recall something. He gave him an encouraging look. “Does this mean you’re coming back home with us?”


      Spock nodded, his eyes focusing on the Admiral. “Yes,” he replied, “back home.”


      “Ach, that’s wonderful news,” Scotty said, making his presence known for the first time. He had been waiting for the Admiral to finish the conversation, not wanting to intrude “Isn’t it, Leonard?”


      “What is?” McCoy asked, sliding out from under the science control panel he had been helping the Scotsman double check.


      “Mister Spock’s decided to come back with us,” The Scotsman said, reaching out a hand to help McCoy to his feet.


      “That is good news,” McCoy replied with a smile. “I told them those Vulcan healers couldn’t keep you cooped up forever.”


      Spock faltered, not certain what to say. He met McCoy’s eyes, searching for recognition of their relationship. There was none.


It would be a very long voyage home.



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