Work Text:
McCoy woke as suddenly as if he had come out of cold water. He was lying on some kind of bedding near the fireplace or hearth. The thought occurred to him that it was important to stay awake; their lives depended on it. Maybe not literally, but it was worth trying to remember everything, especially if it was his last hours. His thoughts and memories were jumbled.
He wasn't alone: Martinez, the science officer, was lying next to him; she seemed to be asleep, wrapped in a warm parka. McCoy looked at her calm face and began to piece together the puzzle of memories: the away mission, the M-class planet, the unusual life forms thriving at extremely low temperatures, and the long day-night cycle. There was more to the brief, but perhaps he hadn't had time or didn't want to finish reading it.
He distinctly remembered that there were eight of them, two groups of four. The first group had successfully reported back to collect all the necessary samples and data and aired back to the ship. Spock's group, which included McCoy, was a little behind.
They found interesting caves and moss, and the weather was deteriorating. They decided to turn back. The last thing McCoy remembered was the sound of ice cracking beneath his feet, the fall, and the pain.
He sat up abruptly and grimaced in pain. Instantly, Security Officer Starsky loomed over him and gently held him by the shoulders.
"Take it easy, Doc. You need to lie down, you're a little bruised. We're relatively safe for now. The Enterprise is coming to pick us up."
"Mmm... My God, what did I break? Where's Spock? What happened?"
"Doctor, I'm perfectly all right. You're the one who needs rest at the moment," Spock's steady voice came from behind the fire, somewhat reassuring McCoy.
"What happened?"
"The crevasse. We all fell into it, but there was an exit to these caves below. And now we're waiting for the weather and a chance to get back to the ship. You and Ensign Martinez have injuries. She broke her collarbone and was recently sedated with painkillers, she'll be asleep for at least two more hours. You, Doctor, have a fractured leg and probably serious bruised ribs, a fixed arm - unknown, the scans don't show details well. And you have a laceration to the head. There is no immediate life-threatening condition. The temperature in the caves is about 5 degrees Celsius. But thanks to the fire, our gear, and deployed force fields, we have a temperature of about 11 degrees. That's adequate to sustain life while we wait for the Enterprise."
Spock reported, still on the other side of the fire. McCoy noted to himself that the fire was skillfully built of stones and resembled a furnace. The stone material retained heat longer.
"What's burning?"
"Moss, and I took the liberty of adding some fuel braces to the supplies."
"Clever," McCoy closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable. Lying down after the sudden jolt was painful and uncomfortable. Sometimes knowing exactly what was wrong with you wasn't always helpful.
"Doctor, are you in pain?" Spock finally came into McCoy's field of vision.
"It's all right. It's just uncomfortable. I'd like to sit up. Perhaps."
"It's possible, and it would help keep you warm."
"What?" McCoy didn't catch the thought, apparently the head wound did.
The next moment McCoy gasped as Spock gently helped him up, and found himself pressed against Spock's chest. "What are you doing?"
"Doctor, there are no walls here. And sitting up on your own will be very painful for you. Besides, it will be uncomfortable for you to eat."
"Eating?" McCoy struggled to follow Spock's train of thought.
"Yes, Doctor. Mr. Starsky, would you mind passing us our portions?"
The security officer deftly handed out two mugs, divided a package of cookies for three, and sat down next to them.
"Bon appetit."
McCoy blinked dazedly as his healthy hand touched something warm, and realized that Spock was helping him hold a cup of something incredibly fragrant.
"What is it? It smells... heavenly."
"Soup, doctor. Vulcan plomeek, is a simplified version. A logical choice, given the circumstances."
"It becomes clear why you issued backpacks to all of us."
Spock responded by merely helping McCoy hold the cup with his healthy hand and take a few sips.
The warmth of the cup in his fingers and the warmth of Spock cradling it against his chest was certainly one of the most comfortable away missions that had gone wrong in a while.