The Introspective Geek

Available for purchase now!

mijan — Tue, 02 Dec 2014 01:29:09 GMT

They've got my novella up and available for purchase! Click on the cover art below to follow the link to purchase! Only $3.99! M/M holiday romance to warm the heart... in a future of colony space ships where old and new traditions come together!

Mijan is getting PUBLISHED!

mijan — Sun, 30 Nov 2014 23:44:42 GMT

Hey everbody!

HEAR YE, HEAR YE! My first published novella will be available for purchase in just a few short days. It's part of the 2014 Dreamspinner Press holiday anthology.

"Under a New Star" is a short holiday romance with a futuristic, sci-fi angle. (Yes, it's gay romance, of course.) The description follows:

"In the 26th Century, mankind has breached the light speed barrier and begun to colonize other planets. They've also learned to Design human beings, known as Morphs, for these specialized colony missions. Adrian is an Aerial Morph, on his way to colonize the low-gravity planet Eridani VI with his scientist Partner, Michael. In violation of the rules of the Morph Projects, they've been lovers for months. Michael cares more about his work than anything, while Adrian doesn’t take anything seriously except Michael. Before they arrive at their new home, they need to curtail their relationship before it destroys their professional Partnership.

The colony ship is scheduled to arrive at their destination on Christmas Eve. Some old holiday traditions persist, but when Adrian and Michael have differing ideas about what's best for their relationship and their careers, holiday gifts and ideas for new beginnings lead to crossed signals."

This novella is the launch my published writing career. It isn't expensive ($4), so please consider buying a copy, and passing this along to other people who would like a romantic holiday story set in outer space.

Click on the cover for a link to where you can purchase the story!

Fanfic Reading at Arisia!

mijan — Sat, 11 Jan 2014 22:34:44 GMT

My favorite convention of the year, Arisia, is right around the corner. Next weekend, I'll be in Boston. Once again, to my delight, I've been invited to read a selection from my fanfiction.

Last year, my slot was the last person in the last time slot on the last day of the convention. That meant that people were busy checking out of the hotel, rushing to catch flights, or too tired to bother going to panels. The room was almost empty. I still got a great response from the people who were there, but still... sparse crowd.

This year, I have a prime spot at 8:30 PM on Friday night. And... welll... Take a look:

Reading: DeCandido, Feinman, and Mijan Hale Fri 8:30 PM
Authors: Keith R. A. DeCandido, Alexander Feinman, and Mijan will read selections from their works.

Notice that first name in the list? DeCandido is a published Star Trek author. I'm sharing my reading slot with one of the published Trek authors. What does this mean?

1. There will be a LOT of Star Trek book fans in the audience.
2. Someone who knows the Star Trek publication game will be in the room.

I need to be on my A-game. Based on the fact that there are three authors and 75 minutes, that means I should have 25 minutes in which to read.

Can anyone help me pick a suitable selection from my main-line Academy series? (Not the adult-rated spinoff stories.) I want something that can stand alone, sucks people in fairly quickly, doesn't spoil the entire fic, and leaves people wanting more. Last year, with my extremely small crowd, I read the shuttle crash sequence from the first chapter of "Crossfire." I'm considering reading it again because so few people were there, and it went REALLY well with the audience.

What do you think? Any suggestions are welcome.

I got nominated!

mijan — Mon, 28 Oct 2013 04:18:52 GMT

It's been so long since anything like this has happened, and I'm really excited about this! My recent Harry Potter fanfic, "Echo of a War,"; got nominated for an award under the "Best Slash Smut" category. Find my fic on the awards site and vote! :D

THE HP FANFIC FAN POLL AWARDS - FALL-WINTER ROUND 2013
Rules, Timelines, and How to Nominate a Fic
To Make Nominations/Ask Questions: hpfanficfanpollmod@gmail.com
Nomination period: October 1st - October 28th, 2013
Voting period: November 1st - December 31st, 2013
Winners announced: by January 10th, 2014

State of the Hobbit: Mid-Autumn Update

mijan — Sun, 27 Oct 2013 18:42:09 GMT

Hello all you lovely people! I've been a rare sight on Livejournal lately. I miss everyone, but real life does take precedence. Here's what's been going on in my world:

1. Work: Still working the EMT job at the casino. Although I still dislike gambling on principle, and I really dislike cigarette smoke, there's actually a lot I like about the job. I have some fantastic coworkers, many of the guests are actually great, and I do get some interesting medical calls. It's still not an ambulance job. However...

2. I just got offered a part-time position at a local ambulance service. It's a dedicated town-based EMS service. YAY! Just waiting for the drug test and background check to come back.

3. School. Busy with two classes that are driving me batshit. Why batshit? Because they are both the biggest wastes of time I've ever had in my education. I'm taking Psych 101. I got into the Honors section, so I thought we might have some good discussions. Nope. The professor is ill-prepared, there have been no real lectures on core material, and he gives out assignments that he never collects. Remember that suicide poll I posted? Well, I did a really good write-up on that... and the bastard never collected it. Yeah. Not impressed. And as for my Anatomy & Physiology class... well, I've gotten 100% on the first four exams. Sounds good, right? Well, it's good for me, but the rest of the class is struggling, if not failing outright. The professor doesn't TEACH during the lab at all, and I've been effectively teaching the lab section. We've only done three real labs, and for each one, the professor didn't actually have all the materials for us to do the protocols correctly. *sigh* I just can't wait to start the real paramedic and fire training.

4. I'm signed up to take the "Fire Academy" courses during the spring semester. My college has changed their format from a "Take Fire 1 and then Fire 2" arrangement to a one-semester intensive "academy-style" training. This is gonna be fun. And then, paramedic school starts next fall. YAY!

5. We just had an epic Halloween party last night. I'm amazed that I don't have a hangover. Heee.

6. I've been doing some crazy harvesting and processing of the goods from my garden this year. Pickled peppers, several types of pickled cucumbers, frozen stuff, dried herbs. I'm positively domesticated.

7. Stress is leading to a flare-up of some of my autoimmune issues. It's not awful, but it's exhausting and modestly painful.

8. My new dog has really been fitting in with the family. She's growing like crazy, too. She's got to be over 150 pounds now. She's a fawn-brindle Mastiff, and a big, squishy love bug.

9. I need to stop paying attention to the news. It just depresses me.

10. Sorry, I haven't had time to write more fic. I know, that's awful and unfair, but... just don't have time.

11. There's pumpkin custard in the oven. Bringing it to Samhain ritual potluck at chuch. Which means I need to go take a shower.

Happy Samhain and/or Halloween!

World's best photoshops.

mijan — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 20:18:06 GMT

(Originals found here: http://startrek.moviemouse.de/Galerie/StarTrekPromos/FilminkPromos2009.html)

Here's a towel. You're welcome.

I hate Facebook.

mijan — Sat, 21 Sep 2013 01:38:29 GMT

They just disabled my Facebook account. No explanation. All the automated notification said is that my "account might not be authentic."

WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK???

That's my real name, my real birthday, and real pictures of the tomatoes in my garden. What the hell do they want??? Why did I not get an explanation?

I am feeling SO MUCH RAGE right now.

Suicide: An Academic Poll

mijan — Fri, 20 Sep 2013 18:54:23 GMT

Because my Psych professor is such a ray of sunshine, he decided to assign us a cheerful topic for a weekend mini-research essay: "What are people's thoughts on suicide?"

Yeah... thanks, professor.

He didn't give us any guidance other than that question, and he's leaving it up to us how we wish to pursue this topic. We could go to our friends and family and ask their thoughts, we could look up blogs and essays online, we could research academic journals on the subject... you get the idea. Naturally, I went to the trusty LJ poll.

I recognize that this is a very heavy topic, but I'd appreciate as many participants in this poll as are willing. The results will be compiled in my paper. I will NOT reveal personal or identifying information to anybody. This is a purely academic use.

PLEASE:
- Participate even if you have no first-hand exposure to issues and behaviors of suicide.
- Link friends to this, if you're willing. The more data I get, the better.
- Put your honest thoughts, even if you feel that your thoughts aren't popular or "politically correct." (As I said, I'm not sharing details with anyone.)
- IF you are willing, feel free to post more details in the comments. This is absolutely optional.
- If you would like to provide more thoughts or information, but you don't want anyone else to see, feel free to send me a private message.
- Answer as many questions as you are comfortable answering.

Thank you to all who participate.

View Poll: Thoughts on Suicide?

Psychology Project: Ethnocentricism

mijan — Wed, 04 Sep 2013 02:04:37 GMT

I've been handed a very interesting project topic for my individual presentation in my Psych 101 class. Ethnocentricism. Yeaaaah, talk about a loaded topic, but hell, it FASCINATES me. Technically, it's "Ethnocentricism and Prejudice."

I need to do a 20-slide (no more than that) Powerpoint Presentation. It's got to have a picture on every slide. I need to present ONE video of approximately 3 to 5 minutes. The spoken presentation must be approximately 30 minutes. It's due on October 8th. I want to have it done at least a week ahead of time because I know that SHIT HAPPENS.

I want this presentation to be relevant, poignant, and interesting. I'm the second-to-oldest person in the class. I think I'm the only one who already has a bachelor's degree. Most of the people in the class are between 18 and 20 years old. I don't care as much about the grade as about doing something GOOD.

So... I'm a biologist and an EMT. While I have a decent layman's understanding of these concepts, I know there are a lot of people in our fandom who are amazingly knowledgeable about these topics. Would you be willing to refer me to any quality references? Essays, books, sources, etc. that you've read and enjoyed? Concepts that you feel should be introduced?

I'm not an expert here, and I know it. I'm already hunting for articles and sources, but more is better. I also know that some of the people I've met in fandom are some of the best experts in these areas that I've ever met.

Any advice for a Psych 101 student?

Budgeting like a Boss.

mijan — Fri, 16 Aug 2013 17:10:54 GMT

So... my Trophy Wife and I need to save money. I'm dropping down to part-time while I go to school. School starts on Monday. We're making a list of things that we'll be doing to save money, and I'm going to post them here so that I'm absolutely obligated to follow the list. (Accountability, right?)

1. Eat through our supply of staple foods. Cook with bulk staples like rice and beans more.
2. Stop buying so many perishables; only buy what we're ready to use. Use the garden.
3. Drink tea instead of coffee. Drink through our MASSIVE supply of tea. Don't buy ANY more tea.
4. Make a grocery list and stick to it.
5. We're not allowed to spend more than $20 on groceries unless we're both there.
6. Stop spending so much when we entertain. We spend a LOT of money every time we have a party. We can have people visit, but we can't supply tons of things for the party.
7. No more booze. Drink what we have. No exceptions.
8. We'll stick with the mattress and table/chairs we have for now, and try to make them both last another year.
9. Use all of the toiletries that I've purchased on clearance sales; don't buy any more. (I tend to stock up when CVS marks things down to 75% off.)
10. Be responsible about replacing things (electronics, appliances, etc.). Discuss all purchases before making them.
11. Put off my car repair(s) until next year. One oil change before the end of the year, and that's it.
12. Trophy wife will use the fabric she has for costuming, and only buy things if she specifically needs it for a specific project that she's ready to start, and doesn't have an acceptable option in her stash.
13. Sell more stuff on Craig's List, as needed.
14. Do haircuts and massages for tips. (All tips will go directly into my paramedic school fund.)
15. Bring our own lunches to work.

That's it for now. We'll be trying to think of more ways to save money as time goes on. Feel free to offer reasonable suggestions. I'm already accustomed to buying in bulk, shopping sales, and scouring thrift stores. With the cool summer we're having, our electricity bill is low, and we have an energy-efficient house anyway. Still, all other suggestions are welcomed.

Anyway, that's most of what's going on right now. I'm still applying for ambulance jobs, trying to get away from the casino job. Sure, it's an EMT position, but the focus isn't on EMS, and I want to work on an ambulance crew. So... more applications and call-backs. Here goes nothing.

Scholarship Competition - vote for me?

mijan — Wed, 14 Aug 2013 17:54:03 GMT

Dammit man, I'm a novelist, not a poet.

However, there was a haiku competition for a $500 scholarship. And... I'm starting classes on Monday. Yes, I'm going back to school. And it's fucking expensive. I didn't qualify for ANY grants from the FAFSA, and loans scare me. (They scare me for good reason - they completely sunk my sister's finances, and her wages are being garnished because of student loans.) So... the scholarship hunt is on.

Is my haiku any good? Hell if I know. I'm not a poet. They assigned us the theme of "metamorphosis." I gave it the old college try. (Heh. Heh. College.) However, every penny counts right now. Could you please go HERE and vote for my haiku?

In the meantime, I promise a real life update and more fanfiction as soon as I can manage it.

Also, I just turned 33. I feel old.

Fic: "Engines of War" (2/?)

mijan — Thu, 25 Jul 2013 18:42:27 GMT

Title: "Engines of War"
Betas: taverl
Canon: ST:XI, STID
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Spock, Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,838 for chapter 2
Warnings: Foul language, political situations.
Disclaimer: Gene Roddenberry is God, Paramount Pictures is Pope, and this is the blasphemy of a wayward faithful. My geeky spirit is rich, but my purse is empty.

Summary: Admiral Marcus’s push for weaponization didn’t appear out of nowhere. Across the Federation and at home on Earth, a terrified population is calling for increased defenses and a stronger front through Starfleet. It will take a year to rebuild the Enterprise, but when the job is done, what will the ship and her mission come to? After he lost so much, after he learned the high price of warfare and militarization, Jim Kirk isn’t about to let them destroy everything he believes in, no matter what it costs him.

Previous Chapters: Chapter One

Chapter 2

“Welcome aboard, admiral.” Spock inclined his head at the admiral who was stepping down from the shuttle inside the badly damaged shuttlebay. “I had not anticipated your personal attention to the final debarcation procedures.”

Admiral Yee waved him down lightly as they fell into step as they walked away from the shuttle. Despite his modest stature and significantly grayed appearance, his stride was lively. “This is our flagship, Commander. More to the point, after everything that’s happened, it was about time someone paid a bit more attention to the details around here.”

“A logical course of action,” Spock replied neutrally. “Shutdown procedures are running within the expected timeline. In addition to critical damage to primary systems and the hull, there was significant internal damage from objects that were dislodged during the disruptions to the ship’s gravitational systems.”

“In other words, the ship got banged up from the inside when your artificial gravity went haywire.”

“Affirmative.”

Yee gave him a curious smile. “They warned me about you.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I believe one of our Doctor McCoy’s favorite phrases is applicable here: ‘I don’t want to know.’”

To his credit, Yee chuckled lightly. “Perhaps not. Also, rumor has it that every uninjured member of your crew down below has volunteered to assist in the recovery efforts across the damaged section of the city.”

Spock inclined his head, and recognized how proud the captain would be if he knew what his crew was doing. And, if pressed, Spock would admit that he was proud, too. “I have heard these rumors, and am unsurprised. The crew of the Enterprise may have its noted atypical behavioral patterns, but they are dedicated and selfless.”

“That they are,” Yee said with a smile. Then his expression sobered as they passed through the doors of the shuttle bay and into the corridor. “Is the captain awake yet?”

“Regrettably, no.” Spock meant that part. “The damage from the radiation exposure was extensive. His tissues will require significantly more cellular regeneration before Doctor McCoy is willing to awaken him.”

A turbolift opened in front of them, and they slipped inside. Before Spock could say anything, however, Yee said, “Sickbay.”

Spock kept his demeanor impassive. He wasn’t surprised. The likelihood that Yee would select that destination first had been 81.7%. Still, he needed to keep Yee focused. “Lieutenant Commander Scott is almost ready to provide an inspection tour of Engineering. Two-point-one hours ago, he provided an estimate of three hours until completion.”

“I certainly intend to tour the engineering facilities.”

A curious statement, considering that a tour of the engineering facilities had been the primary stated purpose for this visit. “Pardon me, admiral, but I must ask if there is an aspect of this visit that I have not anticipated.”

Admiral Yee gave him a sideways look. “Nothing so sinister, commander. The senior leadership simply wishes to get a more direct report on Captain Kirk’s medical condition.”

Spock tilted his head. “Was Doctor McCoy’s report insufficient?”

“No, it was quite thorough... but there is some curiosity regarding how he managed to survive such a severe radiation exposure.” Yee’s tone was light, but the words were damning.

“It appears to be what humans would call a miracle.”

“Vulcans talking about miracles? Now I’ve heard everything.” The turbolift stopped, but instead of getting out, the admiral said, “Computer, hold turbolift. Commander Spock, please be direct with me. Your report stated that Captain Kirk entered the warp core chamber and performed a manual realignment of the core housing. His actions saved the ship from crashing, but exposed him to a significant amount of radiation. Based on every model our people can come up with, your captain should be dead. Additionally, one of the cryo units appears to be missing. So, before we step into the medical facility, do you care to explain your miracle, commander?”

Some of his colleagues’ more colorful descriptive language crossed Spock’s mind. Of course, someone would have noticed the missing pod eventually. The confusion and chaos during the initial debarcation had bought them enough time to actually go through with their plan to revive the captain, but now they’d have to start explaining. “Perhaps it would be best to allow Doctor McCoy to explain.”

Yee gave him a cutting look. “Now why am I not surprised?” The door of the turbolift opened in front of him, and he strode out of the ‘lift and directly across the corridor into sickbay.

The medical facility was fairly quiet. Doctor Carlson was working on Ensign Rothe’s foot. Spock had already received the report of the storage container falling on his extremity. It was not a severe injury. Carlson looked up, but before she could say anything, Spock waved her down. “Do not interrupt your patient’s care, Doctor Carlson.”

“Aye, commander,” Carlson said curiously, then, “Admiral,” in acknowledgement.

“Doctor,” Admiral Yee replied, barely looking at her. “Where is Doctor McCoy?”

“In isolation room one right now,” she answered. “Keep going towards the back of sickbay. It’s the door on the left. You’ll have to wait for him to come out, though.”

Yee didn’t bother to thank her as he continued his path towards the back of the facility. They rounded the corner, and Yee stopped so suddenly that it appeared he had collided with an invisible barrier. Of course, had Spock not already seen this view, he might have wavered in his momentum as well.

The viewing window on isolation room one was depolarized, giving a full view of Doctor McCoy, dressed in complete isolation scrubs, gently changing the dermagel bandages on the captain’s face. Jim’s skin had begun sloughing off, and although the healthy cells were replacing the dead ones at an incredible rate, his physical appearance was currently quite shocking.

“Dear God,” Yee whispered, staring wide-eyed through the window.

“I admit to our use of the cryo unit,” Spock said evenly, realizing that such an admission was inevitable. “It halted cellular destruction long enough to give Doctor McCoy time to prepare a therapy that he would be better at explaining than I would. Still... the statistical likelihood of the captain’s recovery was low enough that it would not be wholly unreasonable to call this a miracle. He should indeed be dead. He may yet not survive.”

“Why didn’t you report the severity of the situation?” His voice was breathy with disbelief, and he was looking at Kirk, not at Spock.

Spock was observing the Admiral. “I believe Doctor McCoy’s report was an accurate representation of the captain’s injuries.”

“Nobody mentioned that he was probably dying.”

“As Captain Kirk is still alive, it would have been premature to declare that he was dying. Additionally, it could have created significant morale problems to admit such a thing at that juncture.”

Yee gave a dry chuckle. “A Vulcan worried about morale? You have been hanging out with humans for quite a while, haven’t you?”

Spock allowed himself to interpret the question as rhetorical - something he’d learned from the captain. “Morale is critical to the successful functioning of a starship crew. It is logical to foster good crew morale, especially when morale would be at its lowest. Additionally, I believe that McCoy’s report indicated quite clearly that Captain Kirk was severely injured, subjected to significant radiation exposure, and was being kept unconscious because he would be in severe pain if he was awakened.”

“Out cold.”

“Admiral?”

A sad smile ghosted across the admiral’s face, and he finally glanced up at Spock. “McCoy didn’t say that Kirk was unconscious. He said that he was ‘out cold.’ Kirk was in cryo at the time, wasn’t he?”

“He was.” It seemed sensible to offer just enough truth to make the story more enticing. Admiral Yee was looking for dirt. Now he had his ‘secret’ to bring back to Starfleet Command, and the captain was still alive.

Better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Jim had told him that once. Maybe, despite Spock’s misgivings at the time, that was true.

“He nearly sacrificed himself for the ship.” This time, Yee’s voice was oddly reverent. “He had to have known the risks going in there.”

“I am quite certain that he knew the risks, admiral,” Spock confirmed. “He spoke to me for a short time before he lost consciousness... while we waited for the decontamination cycle to run.”

“That must have been difficult. Waiting.”

Spock’s chest was suddenly feeling tight, and his eyes felt warm. He buried the sensation and squared his shoulders. “It was quite difficult.”

“That’s practically an admission of being frantic, coming from a Vulcan.” Then his tone changed. “Where’s the Augment from the missing cryo pod?”

There was no avoiding this admission. “He did not survive the reanimation process. I have read the doctor’s report. They attempted to stabilize him, but it would have been impossible. There was excessive tissue degradation prior to the reanimation process, and we suspect that the cryo pod did not maintain steady temperatures during long periods of cryostasis.”

Yee considered that for a moment. “In other words, he wouldn’t have survived no matter what conditions he was revived under.”

“Affirmative.”

“Then it’s not really your fault he’s dead. He was dead before you tried to revive him.” Yee sighed. “I’ll instruct the medical personnel overseeing the other pods to survey them for stability and see of the same thing happened to any of the other Augments. Either way... I can’t say that I blame you guys for any of this. Considering everything your crew has endured... I think we might be able to smooth this one out.”

“Sir?” Spock was about to elaborate on his query when Doctor McCoy stepped back from Kirk’s bedside and saw that he was being observed.

Behind the sterile mask, McCoy’s eyes narrowed slightly. Then, with a shake of his head, he set aside the debriding tool he was holding, moved into the isolation room’s airlock, activated the exit cycle, and stepped into the main part of sickbay.

“Admiral,” McCoy said with nod as he pulled back his mask, then his gloves. “Had to see for yourself, did ya?”

“I needed to check,” Yee answered simply. “This crew does have a short but colorful history of making up their own rules, and it seemed peculiar that nobody was allowed to see Kirk at all. Especially with the missing cryo unit.” His tone was casual, but the bait was dangling.

McCoy seemed to freeze for a moment, but then nodded slowly as he folded his arms across his chest. “Peculiar, sure... but... what can I say? We’re a bit protective of Captain Kirk. He... well, he protected us, and I wasn’t going to give up on him. It was a long shot, and we didn’t know if it would work, but it was the best chance we had. We only had him in cryo long enough to let us set up treatment, and then, we kept his core temperature at 15 Celsius until the stem cell therapy took hold. And then, even if it worked, I knew that the recovery process would be... well... you can see for yourself. He’s a mess. So with all that going on, we couldn’t just put him on display to a bunch of brass when we don’t even know if he’ll pull through.”

“Will he?” Admiral Yee’s question was pointed.

McCoy sucked in a rapid breath, then blew it out while shaking his head. He shrugged. “We got him into cryo before there was too much cellular breakdown, and we managed to initiate a modified Sanger Protocol while he was still low-temperature. He had a bit of a reaction to the treatment, but it’s holding. He’ll be on total parenteral nutrition until his digestive tract rebuilds itself, and his immune system is almost nonexistent, but... for what he was exposed to... he has a better chance than he should have. And if anyone can beat the odds, it’s Kirk.”

“He does seem to have that track record.” Yee looked through the viewing window for a moment, then back at McCoy. “How long until you feel that it would be safe to move him?”

“Honestly?” McCoy scrubbed the palm of his hand over his jaw. His stubble was slightly longer than regulation allowed. “It would be best to keep him for another week without shuffling him around, but if that’s not possible, I want his skin healed over and his white blood cell count to be at least 50% of normal before we move him.”

“Presuming he survives at all,” Yee said, his tone questioning.

“Around here, admiral, we always presume a patient will survive,” McCoy replied sharply.

Yee gave Spock a curious look.

“Based on Doctor McCoy’s track record, such a presumption is not only warranted, but essential.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I’ll be damned. Is that a compliment, Spock?”

“A mere statement of fact, doctor.”

Before McCoy could respond, the admiral chimed in.

“Actually, McCoy, your reputation does precede you. The work you did on Admiral Pike didn’t go unnoticed. They said anyone else would have lost him, or left him a quadriplegic. If anyone could pull Kirk through this, I’d guess it would be you.”

Despite the glowing compliment, a look of dark anger quickly overtook McCoy’s expression. “With all due respect, admiral, now isn’t the time to talk about Admiral Pike.”

Yee frowned. “I only meant that your skills were well-respected. I didn’t realize you and Pike were close.”

McCoy hunched his shoulders in a manner that Spock knew indicated defensiveness in the man, but before the doctor could say anything else, Spock turned to face the admiral. “Doctor McCoy has been under severe emotional distress over the past several days, and I am aware that he has not partaken in adequate rest cycles.”

“I can see that,” Yee said dryly. “But it’s to be expected, under the circumstances.”

McCoy snorted softly. “Yeah. I think we could all use a bit fewer circumstances around here.”

Suspecting that McCoy might be too emotionally unstable and physically exhausted to know when to back down, Spock cut in again before either the doctor or the admiral could continue the discussion. “Admiral, you have seen the captain for yourself, and I assume you have accurately deduced why we wish to minimize his exposure to viewing by third parties at this time.”

To Spock’s relief, Admiral Yee merely nodded. “He deserves that much respect.” Then, his posture shifted, just slightly. “Your captain risked everything for the ship. And while you should have reported your use of the cryo unit... I see why you did it, and I can’t personally fault you for it. There will still be an inquiry, but considering everything that’s happened, I think we can keep there from being too harsh of a punishment. I think all of you have been through enough.” He glanced back at Kirk through the window of the isolation room, cringing slightly. “I don’t know how he’s alive, but sometimes, it’s good enough that a person is.”

“That’s just James T. Kirk for you,” McCoy grumbled.

Spock thought he detected an unusual undertone in McCoy’s voice, but if he did, the admiral didn’t seem aware of it. “Indeed, Doctor.” Then, he turned to Yee. “Admiral, if I may, I would be pleased to escort you through the remainder of your inspection.”

The admiral complied easily enough, and they both turned to leave sickbay. At the door, however, Spock glanced back over his shoulder to observe Doctor McCoy.

The doctor was staring at him with a look of desolation that was all too familiar, and for a man whose presence typically filled his domain of the medical facility with unyielding energy, he looked small and lost.

Spock decided to keep that observation to himself, and hurried to keep stride with the admiral as the doors to sickbay slid shut behind them.

*********

Leonard watched them go.

With a sigh, he pulled his mask back on, then his gloves. Jim’s bandages were only half-changed, and with the rate at which his tissues were simultaneously dying and regenerating, Leonard couldn’t let the task go undone.

He was about to step back through the airlock when he heard footsteps approaching.

“You know you can let someone else do some of that,” M’Benga said softly.

“Can I?” Leonard replied. “Geoff... it might not be sensible or rational, but none of this makes sense right now. I only know that I’ve got to see this through myself.”

“That way, if something goes wrong, all of the blame will land squarely on your shoulders.” M’Benga’s voice held a note of accusation, but it wasn’t unkind.

“I’m responsible for him.” As soon as he said it, he realized just how many layers of meaning he’d surrendered in four words.

M’Benga, however, just nodded slowly. “I understand. But when was the last time you slept?”

The question alone brought the raw exhaustion he’d been feeling to the forefront of Leonard’s awareness. He sighed heavily, feeling the puff of air bounce back against his cheeks inside his mask. “I slept last night.”

“How long?”

“As long as I could.”

M’Benga sighed. “I can come in there with you. Sorry I wasn’t there when you started this round of debridement, but I was working on someone.”

But Leonard shook his head. “I’ve got it. Really... just let me do this. When he’s out of the woods, I’ll be able to rest. But... this isn’t the first time he was at death’s door on my table.”

“He was beyond death’s door, Leonard.”

Leonard swallowed back a surge of nausea. “Yeah. That. Anyway, I can’t let this go. Please... just accept that.”

“I can accept it,” M’Benga said sympathetically. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that you don’t have to do this alone.”

“I... thanks, Geoff... but this time, I do.”

“I understand.” He nodded back over his shoulder. “Just got a report of another sprain from the cleanup crew. I’ll go take care of that. You take care of Kirk... and yourself.”

“Will do.” He meant it. He really did.

With a reluctant nod, M’Benga walked away, and Leonard let himself into the airlock. The sterilization cycle powered up, and Leonard grit his teeth as the sonics vibrated across his skin. He should be used to this by now, considering how many times he’d gone in and out of the isolation room since yesterday, but it set his teeth on edge every time. Still, he wasn’t going to take any risks with Jim.

The cycle completed itself, and Leonard walked into the room. It was dead quiet except for the rush of air from the respirator and the hum of the antigrav bed. Normally, force field respiratory support was enough for patients, but with the amount of tissue damage, Jim actually needed an endotracheal tube to keep his airway open. It was a damned good thing he was unconscious - the kid would freak the fuck out if he woke up like that.

Of course, it would probably be at least another week before they’d let Jim out of the drug-induced coma anyway.

Leonard took a moment to look Jim over. Sure, he’d just been in there a few minutes ago, but every time he walked into the room, he needed to reassure himself with his own eyes that Jim was alive. And then, he needed to force himself to visually assess how bad the damage really was, like a form of self-punishment and a reality-check in one.

Khan’s miracle serum was damned potent and powerful, but it wasn’t magic.

Once they’d reestablished basic vital signs, Leonard had initiated a basic stem cell therapy that was commonly used in radiation poisoning patients. The healthy cells would adhere to the damaged tissues, dividing and replacing the damaged ones. It was probably redundant, considering the effects of the serum, but Leonard wasn’t taking any chances. Plus, he needed a legitimate medical therapy to document that might possibly explain Jim’s survival.

Even with the most optimistic projections, he’d known it would be messy, and it was. There was widespread cell destruction in addition to the regeneration. A simple injury or basic illness probably would have healed easily with Khan’s proteins. Severe radiation exposure was completely different. So many cells were damaged beyond repair, and they were dying almost as fast as they were regenerating. GI tract, lungs, and even blood vessels were inflamed and on the edge of falling apart. Maybe with Khan’s stronger overall physiology, the process would have been much more smooth, but Jim only had a select set of proteins to fight against the tide of death.

As awful as they were, at least Leonard had anticipated all those problems. However, because it was Jim, he should have expected the unexpected.

As soon as Jim’s immune system had started rebuilding itself, what had at first seemed like a minor reaction had turned into a full-on immunological rejection of the transfusion. Leave it to Jim Kirk to be allergic to the only thing in the universe that could save his sorry ass. So, on top of everything else, the kid was on a hefty cocktail of immunosuppressants. Between that and the fact that his skin was sloughing off, he was as susceptible to infection as if he had no immune system anyway. Maybe those fancy proteins in Khan’s serum would have some effect on bacteria and viruses, but there was no guarantee. In fact, nothing was guaranteed right now.

Between the immune reaction and the widespread cell destruction, Jim’s whole body was swollen. He looked like a burn victim. His lymphatic system was overloaded, even with the constant dialysis to remove the wastes. But... Jim was alive. Beyond all odds and medical knowledge. And hell, if they could just keep the rejection reaction under control long enough to let the proteins do their stuff and manage the general complications of the healing process, Jim could be completely healed in just a couple of weeks.

Leonard just hoped he wouldn’t have to explain that little miracle to the medical community.

He couldn’t worry about that for now. He had bandages to change.

“Computer, polarize the viewing window.” He didn’t need any more nosey officers intruding on Jim’s privacy when the kid was this vulnerable.

Gently, he pulled back the sheets covering Jim’s body. It was horrible - raw, red, peeling. “Dammit, Jim,” Leonard said softly.

He set back to work, debriding areas that were sloughing off, covering the exposed tissues with dermagel. It was messy work, and he could have had a tech do it, but this was a labor of love. He wasn’t going to abandon Jim now.

He was grateful that he’d insisted on the installation of an antigrav bed when the ship had been refitted after the Nero incident. Having Jim resting directly on such damaged skin would have been awful. However, the visual effect of seeing Jim floating just a few inches above the biobed, tethered to a dozen different pieces of equipment, was thoroughly unnerving. Sure, Leonard was a doctor, and he’d seen this sort of treatment for a patient plenty of times. It was just different seeing it with Jim.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, kid,” Leonard said aloud as he applied a long strip of dermagel to the lateral aspect of Jim’s thigh. “You’ve pulled some pretty spectacular stunts, but this? This took the cake, the icing, and even the goddamned candle on top.”

He reached for his sonic debrider and set to work on another section of skin. Jim didn’t even twitch as he worked the tool across the kid’s torso - still as death itself, except for the mechanical rhythm of the respirator breathing for him.

“I know why you did it. But... I... Jesus, Jim.” He shook his head to himself. He was getting distracted.

He worked in silence for about a half hour, keeping his mind blank and his hands busy until every patch of Jim’s body was covered with fresh, glistening dermagel. He’d have to do this again within twelve hours, but for now, the work was done.

Really, Leonard knew he should go write up his report and get some rest, but that wasn’t going to happen.

With the thin privacy afforded by the polarized window, he finally sat down and lightly touched Jim’s hand. He didn’t dare apply any more pressure for fear of disrupting the healing tissues, but he needed to connect with his best friend in a way that wasn’t purely medical.

Hell, he hadn’t actually stopped long enough to simply sit by Jim’s bedside yet. He’d been living in a constant whirlwind of applying one therapy, setting up another therapy, working in the lab, changing bandages, and reassessing vitals. And really, almost every time he’d been in the isolation room, another doctor, a nurse, or a medical assistant was in there with him. Thinking back to what M’Benga had said, he was starting to suspect it was intentional.

They really didn’t understand.

“Hey kid,” he tried to say softly, but to his dismay, his voice was already threatening to crack. He cleared his throat. “We need to stop meeting like this. The shuttle crash was bad enough. At least you were alive when I got you that time.”

Jim’s silence was deafening, but it was good that the kid was heavily sedated. If he’d been awake for any of it, even the best painkillers wouldn’t have been enough to spare him.

“I know why you did it. We all know. Hell, Jim... if the admiralty understood a goddamned thing about you, they wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest, but they’re a bunch of idiots who can’t see past your cocky facade. But I know you, kid. I watched you walk out into the middle of a battle two years ago on Araxis. I’ve watched you launch yourself into the black more than once with nothing but some wires and fancy cloth for protection because you needed to help people. And yeah, you were scared, but you never let it stop you, and you never let it show to anyone else. I never should’ve doubted you.”

Leonard cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re a good captain, Jim. It’s like you were made for this. You let yourself drown in these doubts of yours when you start thinking too much, but when the shit starts to fly, you’re a damned genius in that chair. Pike... told me what he said to you... and he was wrong. You did respect chair. You just didn’t believe that you were really good enough for it.” He opened his eyes and looked down at Jim’s swollen face. “I’ll never forget the look on your face when I... when I challenged you... when you took the captain’s chair on this ship for the first time.” He swallowed tightly. “I never told you how sorry I am for that. You just surprised me. You always surprise me.”

He gently brushed his fingers over the dermagel on the back of Jim’s hand. “Maybe, someday, you’ll stop surprising me. But until then... I guess I’m along for the ride.”

A beeping monitor caught Leonard’s attention, and he jumped up to check the readouts. Blood sugar and insulin levels were off, and it was no wonder. They’d been supplementing Jim’s insulin levels while his pancreas repaired itself, and his body was using a massive amount of sugar along with proteins and fats as it reconstructed damaged tissues. Quickly, Leonard increased the amount of glucose being infused and recalibrated the insulin levels to account for the fact that the kid’s pancreas was producing more insulin than it had been just an hour ago.

Unbelievable.

“Even when you’re out cold, you eat like a pig,” Leonard mumbled as he sat down heavily next to Jim’s bedside again.

As before, Jim was silent and still.

Leonard gently covered Jim’s hand with his own again, marveling at the warmth there... slightly feverish, actually, and so very different from the horrible coldness of the cryo unit.

An unwelcome image overlaid itself with the current view of Jim. Dead, in a body bag. Frozen in a cryo tube. So many levels of wrongness, but now, that just made the image of Jim alive seem like something wrong and perverse, like a mockery of life.

Leonard’s throat tightened a bit. “I always knew there’d come a day when I wouldn’t be able to pull you back from the brink, but... I don’t even know how to wrap my head around this shit. God damn... fuck... did I do the right thing, kid?” He tried to take a deep breath and failed. “Should humans be able to do something like this at all? I mean, sure, some people thought it was a crime against the natural order when they discovered artificial resuscitation a few hundred years ago. Some people even thought CPR and defibrillators were witchcraft. But this? This is something else altogether.”

He swallowed tightly. “What would you have wanted me to do, Jim? If it had been me on the table, and you were the doctor... what would you have done? I know you shattered the Prime Directive to save Spock, and I know you would have done the same for me... but would you violate the laws of nature?” He reached under Jim’s wrist and pressed his fingers against the kid’s pulse. “Or would you just tell me that even those rules are only guidelines?”

Even if Jim could have responded, Leonard wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. He sighed. “Even when you wake up... I don’t know if I can tell you what I did. I don’t know if you could forgive me.”

The only response was the soft hiss of the respirator.

*********

The door to the observation deck slid open, and Spock followed Admiral Yee inside. After their departure from sickbay, the tour of the ship had been uneventful.

Although the observation deck had taken some damage, it was mostly superficial, and would provide an adequate location for continued discussion. Spock anticipated that the admiral would lay out a basic set of expectations, a timeline for complete evacuation of the crew, and a protocol for the official handover of the ship for long-term repairs.

“Have a seat, commander,” Yee said as he sat down at the head of the table. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Spock wanted to point out that he was already quite comfortable, but he’d learned that such instructions were rhetorical. He sat down and folded his hands across the scratched surface of the conference table. “I presume that you wish to lay out our final orders for decommissioning the Enterprise for repairs.”

To Spock’s surprise, Yee waved a hand dismissively. “You already know what to do. The final orders will arrive on your PADD within the next hour. However, I’ve got something a bit more pressing to discuss right now.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Admiral?”

Yee sighed, then leaned heavily on the table. “You’re about to walk into a political nightmare, Spock. You and this whole crew.”

“Pardon me, but I do not understand why our crew would become entangled in a political situation.”

“Don’t play innocent, commander, even if you really have no idea what I’m talking about. You can’t afford to play innocent right now. I would have brought this to Kirk if I could have, not just because he’s the captain, but because if there’s one thing Kirk is good at, it’s maneuvering through bullshit. And you’re about to land in a pile of it.”

“To what sort of bovine excrement are you referring?”

At that, Yee cracked a burst of laughter. “And they said Vulcans don’t have a sense of humor.” Then he composed himself. “You know that Starfleet has had a few political hot-button issues since the Narada. We’ve been able to keep most of it away from our missions and our exploratory vessels, but after this, we might not.”

Spock frowned slightly. “I do not believe I understand your focal point for this discussion.”

“Then I’ll be blunt. Militarization, commander.” A deep frown furrowed Yee’s face. “Although we suspect that Marcus’s research and development program went beyond the scope for which it was intended, and that there was very limited awareness of its existence outside of the program itself, it did have approval at the highest levels.”

“It had approval? If I might ask, from whom?”

“You can ask, but I really can’t tell you. Use your best guess, Mr. Spock.” The admiral’s shoulders slumped just a little bit. “A program like that can’t exist without being sanctioned, even if people on the outside don’t actually know what’s happening on the inside. We knew there was research... but... I might as well tell you this much: we didn’t know he already had a functional ship. As I said, it was only supposed to be a research and development program.”

“That is a significant amount of development.”

“Well, yes, you could see it that way. He had a lot of resources at his disposal - materials and people. He was able to get what he wanted without much resistance. Starfleet gave him a carte blanche for his pet project because they thought it was for the best. Our populations are uneasy, and want reassurance that we can protect them. We weren’t ready for the Narada, and that set a bad precedent.”

Spock considered this carefully, but replied quickly. “As you speak of precedent, it must be observed that encountering a foe from the distant future, armed with advanced and unknown technologies, was unprecedented. It would have been impossible to predict that event, and as such, our forces could not be expected to be ready for such an onslaught.”

“See, that would be the rational way to look at it,” Yee said sadly. “But that’s not how humans think. What people saw with the Narada was a threat that almost wiped them out after successfully destroying our ally’s home planet, and it was little more than sheer dumb luck that allowed us to stop them. If a threat like that could happen once, it could happen again.”

The admiral leaned back in his chair, and for the first time since he’d come onboard, he looked old. “We spent the last year playing damage control with the media. We’ve fielded hundreds of demands from Federation members, colony worlds, and outposts, all wanting additional protection. We tried to reassure them that something like that wouldn’t happen again.”

“But it did not happen again,” Spock interjected. “And it would be unlikely to do so. This indicates that your reassurances were correct.”

“And there you go, being logical again.” Yee shook his head. “Commander, we just had a ship crash into a major city, barely missing the heart of Starfleet Headquarters, destroying part of the Academy grounds, and killing thousands of people in the city itself.”

“And this ship was first commanded by a corrupt Starfleet admiral,” Spock replied, “and then by a sentient weapon of our own making. This was not an external threat.”

Yee looked at him imploringly. “Do you really think we can tell people that?”

“It would be the truth.”

“And the truth would be a hundred times more damning than the fiction that people are already spreading around the media rumor mill.” Yee’s eyes bored into him. “If we tell them that we can’t even keep our population safe from our own people... if we tell them that one of our most senior officers attacked our own flagship and tried to execute Captain Kirk and his crew... if we tell them that secret Starfleet research facilities were playing with living relics from the Eugenics wars... what do you think would happen?”

Spock rapidly let all the possible scenarios play out in his mind, and to his dismay, they never ended well.

Admiral Yee nodded slowly. “You see? We can’t give them the truth.”

“What rumor do they believe now? And what will Starfleet’s official statement be?”

“Currently, the top rumor is that John Harrison, an ex-Starfleet officer with a chip on his shoulder, went rogue after the Narada. He was in research and development in engineering. He hid on Kronos, stole Klingon technology, and came back to Earth for a fight - a grudge-match against our senior leadership. When we sent our flagship to investigate, the Enterprise encountered a warship of mixed Klingon and Federation technology. The rest... you can probably guess.”

Spock considered this, then tilted his head in query. “Would this not create even greater concern regarding the possibility of imminent Klingon attack? And display the possibility of a more severe security breach?”

Yee shrugged helplessly. “Who knows, commander? It might, but our best and brightest in the think tank seem to think that this is the best story that the public would be willing to swallow.”

“Starfleet Command sees fit to propagate this rumor?”

Yee’s expression was noncommittal. “For now, we aren’t dispelling it. Our primary concern is that we do not allow the public to believe that Starfleet itself was compromised from within. That is essential.”

“And you want our crew cooperate in this ploy,” Spock filled in. He found the idea utterly distasteful. Logically, he could not foresee the results of this rumor being significantly better than revealing the truth.

“That’s an order, commander. For now, you don’t have to say anything unless you want to, but you will allow the public to believe that exact rumor. Only bridge officers are authorized to speak to the media, and they are to ensure that nothing they say will suggest that the compromise to Starfleet security went beyond one man named John Harrison.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “In that case, I will relay those orders to all crew members.” Then he furrowed his eyebrows. “But admiral, if I may ask... you said that the issue at hand is militarization. Can you please explain this further?”

Admiral Yee looked at him for a moment, then slowly closed and opened his eyes. “Marcus wasn’t the only one who wanted to militarize Starfleet. Sure, he had only been authorized to work on research and development, but that push didn’t come from nowhere. There has been an undercurrent throughout the Federation, but particularly on Earth and human colonies, of wanting to make exploration a secondary mission for Starfleet, and making military maneuvers - not just defense - into our primary mission.”

Spock openly frowned. “That would undermine Starfleet’s charter and mission, and the entire structure of our organization.”

“It would. But... at the same time... can you blame them?”

“The issue is not one of blame, admiral. I simply fail to see why militarization would appeal so strongly to a species that almost destroyed itself due to war in the past. This is why Vulcans will not turn back to the ways of war and aggression.”

“And, while you might not forgive me for this, commander, some very outspoken mouthpieces on Earth are saying that’s part of why Vulcan is gone.”

A flash of hot anger threatened Spock’s composure, but he held it back. If such things were being said, it was better that he be aware of them, and anger would not serve him. “No forgiveness is needed; you simply informed me of the fact that some individuals are making this insinuation.”

Yee grimaced, but nodded. “Most folks wouldn’t say so, but I respect that you can see it that way right now.”

Then, the admiral turned his chair and gazed out the observation deck’s broad viewport. Through it, they could see the broad structure of the space station where they were docked. There were EV crews already working on the secondary hull. The ship would be rebuilt, and for now, they were safe. Then Yee spoke again.

“You can educate a society, eliminate poverty and scarcity, and create a world of peaceful, industrious citizens... but you can’t erase human nature. Our people watched the destruction of their neighbors’ planet last year, and this year, they watched a strange ship crash into one of our major cities. They saw buildings go down in a pile of flames and rubble. They watched thousands of people being crushed to death. There’s no logic in that, Commander Spock, and there will be no logic in the reaction to it. People want somewhere to focus their anger. They want to take action, even if they’re striking out blindly. They want someone to blame, and they want a fight. This has all happened before, and history is known for repeating itself.”

Yee finally looked turned away from the viewport and looked back at Spock, and his expression was grim. “The engines of war, commander. Do you smell the smoke?”

*********

Fic: "Engines of War" (1/?)

mijan — Fri, 05 Jul 2013 19:00:47 GMT

Title: "Engines of War"
Betas: taverl
Canon: ST:XI, STID
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Spock, Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 7,329 for chapter 1
Warnings: Foul language, political situations.
Disclaimer: Gene Roddenberry is God, Paramount Pictures is Pope, and this is the blasphemy of a wayward faithful. My geeky spirit is rich, but my purse is empty.

Summary: Admiral Marcus’s push for weaponization didn’t appear out of nowhere. Across the Federation and at home on Earth, a terrified population is calling for increased defenses and a stronger front through Starfleet. It will take a year to rebuild the Enterprise, but when the job is done, what will the ship and her mission come to? After he lost so much, after he learned the high price of warfare and militarization, Jim Kirk isn’t about to let them destroy everything he believes in, no matter what it costs him.

NOTES: Nothing in STID contradicted what I did in my Academy Series, so guess what? This is a continuation of my Academy Series, building on the new movie. It’s the “missing year” of STID, between the USS Vengeance crashing into San Francisco and the Enterprise launching on her five-year mission.

This story includes canon from ST:XI, STID, other Star Trek movies and series, and my own Academy Series, as well as some commonly accepted fandom concepts. This does not contain canon from any published Star Trek books or comic books.

And now... on with the show!

Engines of War

Chapter 1

That was how it ended.

With the ship and the world spinning out of control, one man had made an impossible decision.

The end of an era and a legend and an idiot with a goddamned hero complex.

After everything Jim had done, after everything he had accomplished and survived, he’d finally come up against the real no-win scenario. The crazy kid had learned what it meant to be a captain: to put everyone else first. And damn him, but it had been the only possible decision, and that’s all there was to it. Jim had walked into the warp core chamber knowing that it was the end.

And Leonard McCoy - Bones, dammit - hadn’t been there.

He’d been in surgery on a critical patient, and he’d distantly heard someone paging him about a radiation victim in engineering, but he’d shouted off the nurse and told them to send a medic if there was one available. There were enough critical patients, and one was the same as any other. He could only focus on the dying body on the table in front of him, not some other dying body halfway across the ship.

If he’d known it was Jim... he didn’t want to consider what he might have done. Abandoned his post? No, he was a doctor, and he wouldn’t consider the possibility that he might have abandoned a patient who could be saved just to get one last look at a patient whose life was over.

But it wasn’t over.

There was his best friend in a goddamned body bag, lifeless and covered in radiation burns, and Jesus Christ, Leonard couldn't imagine a more awful way to go... but then, on the desk in front of him, a previously dead tribble was now moving and purring, and inspiration struck. No clash of cymbals or sense of eureka, but a sudden change of gears that felt like grinding and squealing; an ancient train trying to switch tracks.

He sent out the comm to the bridge, brain reeling and heart thudding unevenly. Everything was moving too fast, but not fast enough. They emptied one of the cryo pods. One team was putting the genetically modified popsicle into a drug-induced coma, and Leonard was cradling Jim's head himself as they settled the body of their friend and captain into the cryo unit.

It felt like his own blood was turning to an icy sludge as he watched the cryo cycle rapidly lower Jim's body temperature to just above freezing. His breath stopped as the program activated a field that instantaneously absorbed the body's thermal energy, allowing a freeze so rapid that the ice crystals were too small to cause damage to sub-cellular components. Leonard had studied the technology in med school, but it wasn't used very often, and never on human beings anymore.

Now, Jim was dead and frozen in front of him, and he was gambling on a molecular biology discovery that he didn't understand and the efforts of a half-Vulcan he barely tolerated to bring his best friend back.

“Doctor McCoy?”

Leonard didn't respond. He couldn't. He was staring at Jim's face, frozen in both time and temperature, and the rest of the world could fuck directly off.

“Doctor McCoy... they can't get Khan.”

That shook Leonard out of his stupor. He spun around to face the medic who had been monitoring the transmissions from the bridge. “Are you kidding me?”

“They're sending Lieutenant Uhura down after Commander Spock,” the medic said nervously.

“Lieutenant Uhura?” Leonard snapped. “Why the... good Lord, why the hell can't Chekov beam their sorry asses back here? That little whiz-kid can do just about anything with a goddamned transporter, so why not this? Hail the bridge again! This is our only chance to -”

“Doctor McCoy.” Doctor Carlson had stepped out of isolation room two, pulling off her gloves angrily. She had been putting the other genetically modified guy into the induced coma.

“Is that one alive?” Leonard demanded, pointing towards the isolation room and not really listening to her in the slightest.

“We lost him.” Carlson replied flatly. “Too much tissue degradation in cryostasis, and... shit, McCoy, we aren’t even sure if we’ve got the reanimation sequence right!”

“Yeah, I thought we might lose him. But we’ll get the sequence right for Jim.” Leonard turned back to the medic, feeling another surge of desperation. “And I thought I told you to hail the bridge again!”

“For the... Leonard!” Carlson snapped at him. “Pull yourself together!”

“What?” Leonard finally took a good look at his colleague, and he stopped. Seeing the typically level-headed Doctor Carlson seething at him was almost enough to break him out of his mindless anger. “I... Meg, that's my best friend in that damned pod, and the only way we're going to get him back out of it is if we get Khan back on this ship alive. I've patched Jim's carcass back together enough times, and I'm not giving up on him now!”

Carlson shook her head in frustrated disbelief. “Listen to yourself!” She stepped into his personal space and locked eyes as he grabbed his upper arms and gave him a shake. “Captain Kirk is dead, Leonard. We're not gods, we're doctors. If we somehow manage to work the technology to revive him, then let's all pick a random religion and burn some damned incense in appreciation. But in the meantime, we've still got a sickbay full of patients, and there are at least a hundred other casualties on this ship that are still alive. We need to focus on that until we get to space dock.”

The harsh reality was sharp and biting. Carlson was right – in the chaos, dozens of people had died, and easily a hundred more were injured. Casualty reports had come in from all over the ship, and the less-injured were putting their first aid skills to use, caring for those who could survive for the short term without real treatment while the worst casualties had been flooding every available inch of sickbay. Jim was his friend, but he wasn't the only person onboard.

“You're right,” Leonard finally said, although his voice was rough.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that. But...” Carlson looked back over her shoulder at the isolation room. “Fuck, Leonard, does it need to be Khan? We've got a whole ward full of these super-humans. So we lost one of them, but we could try the next one, and this time, we’ll make sure we’ve prepared for it properly. One of them has to survive reanimation. Why not blood from that one?”

“I thought about that, actually,” Leonard growled. “And it's simple: we haven't tested any of the others. We know Khan's blood works, but...” He shook his head in frustration. “I did an undergrad paper on the genetic mods used during the Eugenics wars. Every soldier was modified differently, based on the tasks they were expected to perform. We have no idea if any of these other frozen freaks has the same traits in their blood as Khan. For all we know, he could have been the only one with that trait. You just lost that one because of tissue degradation, right? There's a damned good chance that his blood didn't have the regenerative traits that Khan's did, and I'm not gambling on the chance that the others might... not when we know Khan's does.”

“We have time to test them,” Carlson challenged.

“No, we don't,” Leonard pushed back, swallowing down another surge of anxiety. “Those pods are old, Meg. We haven't tested them, either. We have no idea how good the cryo-stasis is. The last person who went into that pod is dead on your table right now, isn't he? And he’s a super-human who probably went in alive. Jim... Jim wasn’t either of those things.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “We don't have time.”

“Leonard...”

“But for now, you're right. We've got patients, and we can't do a damned thing for the captain until we get Khan back aboard.” He squared his shoulders. “Let's get back to work.”

For a moment, nobody moved. Then, without a word, they all hurried back to whatever tasks they'd been handling before Jim's body had arrived in sickbay. But before Leonard went back to the spinal regen he was working on, he looked down at the pod that held Jim's body. Then, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw for a moment, he gathered himself together and forced himself to walk away.

*********

Leonard was waiting in the transporter room with a medic, six security personnel, and a stretcher when Spock materialized with Khan’s body slung over his shoulder like a sack.

“Is he alive?” Leonard demanded, shoving the stretcher towards Spock.

“Indeed he is,” Spock answered, ignoring the stretcher. “We must hurry, doctor. We will arrive at Space Station One shortly, and unless we act quickly, and we will miss our window of opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Leonard asked in confusion, but Spock was already out of the transporter room, and it was all Leonard could do to hurry after him.

*********

As soon as the ship docked at Space Station One, a top security team took custody of Khan, who was being held in a drug-induced coma, as well as 71 cryo pods. In the chaos, it had been easy allow the oversight. Nobody needed to know that one cryo pod was hidden away in isolation room one. And if one of the augments was thawed and dead... well... they’d figure out an explanation for that later.

At the same time, a flood of emergency personnel had rushed aboard the ship. Serious casualties were taken to the undamaged medical facilities aboard the space station. Uninjured and minimally injured crew members were evacuated to Earth. Soon, everyone was gone except a skeleton crew consisting of essential engineering personnel and bridge officers.

Naturally, the captain was a bridge officer. And if the captain was being treated for his injuries aboard his ship, didn’t that just make sense?

No, it didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

Leonard was trying not to think about how he’d explain this mess. He couldn’t even explain it to himself in any way that didn’t make him sound completely off his rocker. He had work to do, goddammit, and he wasn’t about to let himself get distracted. Not now. Not while there was still hope. He wasn’t going to let that slip away. If he was going to succeed, he couldn’t let Jim’s body off the ship.

Leonard had ensconced himself in his lab as soon as the other casualties had been evacuated, and was just settling down at his lab bench when Spock appeared. Leonard's first instinct was to snap at the Vulcan and tell him that he didn't have time to put up with the inevitable lecture of logic or whatever the hell Spock was there to do. But then... he saw Spock's face.

Spock's eyes were swollen, and his face was flushed green. His outward composure was calm for a human, but for a Vulcan, it looked as though he was barely holding himself together. Then, when he spoke, his voice was rough. “How is he?”

Leonard took a slow breath, trying to steady himself. “What do you think, Spock? He was exposed to enough radiation to kill him a hundred times over, and he's lying in a centuries-old cryo unit.”

“I am aware of that. I attempted to calculate the odds of successfully reviving the captain based on your proposed treatment, but as this situation is without precedent, I was unable to do so.” Green-rimmed eyes blinked.

Leonard raised an eyebrow in surprise. Spock was looking for reassurance. “I wish I could give you some good news, but I’ve got no idea. Before I even think about using this stuff, I need to fraction the blood sample to isolate the essential components and test it on tissue cultures.”

“The process was fairly simple with the tribble, was it not?”

Leonard felt a flash of irritation. “I wasn’t trying to bring the tribble back from the dead, Spock! I was just testing a platelet fraction to see if it had any effect on necrotic tissue. Jim wanted fast answers about Khan’s unusual ability to heal so quickly, so I cut some experimental corners. It worked beyond my wildest expectations, but I still don’t know what worked. I need to know what the hell was going on at the molecular level, and whether it will work on human tissue. And... and it wasn’t my friend! I didn’t need to be as careful with the tribble because it was just a damned tribble that had died in the xenozoology lab anyway, but dammit man, I can’t do that with a real patient! I still don’t even know what component of the blood is actually responsible for the regenerative properties, and I’m not using this stuff on Jim until I know.”

Slowly, Spock nodded. “Understood, Doctor. I believe that approach is most logical, if we are to have any chance at reviving the captain. But at the moment, we have another situation. Starfleet Command is demanding to speak to Captain Kirk.”

Instantly, Leonard felt his stomach drop like a brick as he jumped out of his seat and hissed at Spock. “Shit. What did you tell them?”

“Nothing of significance. I told them that Captain Kirk was unavailable, and that I needed to ascertain his status in sickbay.” Spock’s face was so carefully neutral that it gave away more than it hid. “I wished to speak to you before revealing further information. It... seemed prudent. The Captain was initially removed from command of the Enterprise as a result - whether direct or indirect - of my revealing information that he did not want revealed. As this situation has no precedence, there are no protocols.”

Leonard stared at Spock in disbelief. “Every crew member death needs to be reported within one hour, or as soon as conditions are safe,” he said, rattling off regulation.

“And as the captain is currently in cryostasis, he is not technically dead.” Spock’s eyes were determined.

Leonard sucked in a sharp breath at the idea that he and Spock were collaborating on a scheme of this magnitude. “We shouldn’t do this,” he said, as much to himself as to Spock.

“Possibly not.”

“We’re playing God.”

“One could logically argue that all technology does so.”

“You and your pointy logic,” Leonard grumbled to himself. He looked at the analyzer on his workbench, and then over at the door of isolation room one. “If we told them, they’d take him away from us. There’s no way they’d let us try this. It goes against every standard of medical practice in the book. We’d never even get the chance to see if it would work.” It was rationalizing, and he knew it. Then he glanced back at Spock, feeling oddly disconnected. “How many other people know?”

“Commander Scott, Lieutenant Uhura, Doctor Marcus, the two security officers who retrieved the captain’s body, several other officers and crew members who were in sickbay at the time, and your medical staff. They are all exceptionally loyal, and there is a 94.8% probability that they would not reveal the captain’s actual status to others, even if pressed, were we to instruct them to maintain secrecy.” Then Spock hesitated.

“What?”

“While I find myself irrationally inclined to take all possible efforts to safeguard and revive the captain, I should state that the consequences of this course of action can not be anticipated.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow in surprise. Now that was an interesting statement coming from the hobgoblin. “You’re saying that you want to do this, but you have no idea what will happen.”

“Affirmative.”

Leonard sighed. “Well, I have no idea what will happen either... for any part of it. It might not even work. Maybe we won’t be able to revive him. And maybe we’ll get hung out to dry for this. But sometimes, you’ve just got to take a chance. If we don’t try, then that means we gave up on him, and there’s no chance of getting him back.”

“Then this would be the most logical course of action” Spock stated, but Leonard thought he heard a question there.

For a moment, Leonard looked at him, then said, “Spock... when you were in that damned volcano, Jim asked me what you’d do if your positions were reversed. I told him that you’d let him die. And yeah, Spock, that would have been logical, but logic isn’t the only thing we’ve got. Sometimes, you’ve just got to jump in with your eyes closed and hope you land safely. There are always consequences, but you know what?” He took a half step closer to Spock, almost chest-to-chest. “Damn the consequences.”

At that, Spock mirrored Leonard’s raised eyebrow in reply. “Fascinating.”

“Shut up.” Leonard stepped back and grabbed his PADD off the workbench. “Do you still have Starfleet Command on the line?”

“Admiral William Yee is currently waiting for my response on a secure channel.”

Leonard nodded. “My office. Follow me.”

Sickbay was perversely quiet as they walked from the lab to Leonard’s office. All of the patients were gone, except for a couple of engineering officers who had bumps and bruises but needed to stick around to help fix the damage to the ship. Doctor Carlson was working on one of them, and M’Benga on the other. The two remaining nurses and the three medics were cleaning up, restocking supplies, and looking like they needed some help themselves.

They’d have to wait.

Leonard sat at his desk as the door slid shut. “Stand behind me, Spock.”

“What are you going to say, Doctor?”

Leonard hesitated for a moment, then looked up. “Only what they need to know.” Then he settled himself back in the chair. “Bring up the channel.”

“Computer,” Spock intoned, “access the currently-active Priority One channel to Admiral Yee at Starfleet Command.”

“Accessing.”

An unfamiliar face filled Leonard’s computer screen. “Commander Spock, and... Doctor McCoy, is it?”

“That’s right, Admiral,” Leonard replied as smoothly as he could. He was suddenly far more nervous than he’d thought he would be. “Spock tells me that you want to speak to the captain?”

“If at all possible. I’m sure you can understand the need for a rapid debriefing, given the circumstances. The city took heavy damage, gentlemen, in addition to the damage to the Enterprise. We’re also at a loss to explain how Admiral Marcus was able to hide his weapons program so thoroughly that he constructed a ship without the knowledge of the rest of Starfleet’s leadership. Yee’s expression was adequately apologetic.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself,” Leonard said with a blatant undertone.

Yee’s mouth tightened. “I’m sure you would, but that’s not why we’re calling. Marcus sent Kirk on this assignment, and we need to know what Marcus told Kirk.”

“I understand, Admiral, but I’m afraid you’ll have to get your answers from Commander Spock today.” Leonard braced himself. “The captain was injured when the ship’s gravity went haywire, and then... he was exposed to a pretty severe dose of radiation from something that broke down in engineering. He’s out cold right now and in isolation, and we’re keeping him there until we’ve rebuilt his bone marrow and given his body time to heal.”

To his credit, Admiral Yee looked appropriately sympathetic to the description of Jim’s injuries. “That’s horrible news, but if I might ask, why was he not evacuated with the other casualties?”

Leonard felt a drip of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. “There was no need at the time. The isolation wards in sickbay weren’t damaged, and I’ve got everything I need to treat him right here. I’m his primary physician, and I need to stay with the ship as long as we have essential personnel aboard. Besides, at the moment, moving him would just cause more problems.”

Yee’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I see. And I understand the medical need to keep him in isolation, but can we speak to him by commlink while he’s in a sterile room?”

“Maybe when he comes around, but like I said, Admiral, he’s out cold, and if he woke up right now, he’d be in unimaginable pain. Unless it was a matter of life or death, I wouldn’t wake a patient in his condition. I understand that he might have important information, but it would be medical malpractice to subject a patient to that, and he wouldn’t be coherent enough to give you any information anyway.”

Yee’s mouth twisted in frustration. “Fair enough.” He looked up at Spock. “Commander, did Captain Kirk tell you much about Admiral Marcus’s plans?”

“Indeed he did,” Spock said smoothly. “Additionally, I was witness to the full sequence of events, and was present with Captain Kirk when Marcus gave us this assignment. As I said before, I can provide a detailed report of the Admiral’s activities and other aspects of this incident. There is no need to rouse the captain sooner than medically advisable.”

“That will have to do for now.,” Yee said, nodding slowly. “But as soon as Kirk is strong enough to give a report, we need to speak with him.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Spock answered. “In the meantime, the doctor should return to his duties. May we continue this discussion from the ready room?”

“That would be best.”

Spock nodded. “Computer - transfer this channel to the computer terminal in the captain’s ready room.”

“Transfer complete.”

The computer screen went dark, and Spock turned to Leonard with a curious expression on his usually placid face. “You did not lie.”

Leonard swallowed thickly. “I might as well have lied, Spock. They’ll certainly see this as a lie. Jim is dead, and we haven’t reported it. We won’t be able to maintain this farce for long.” He looked down at his hands, slack and useless on the desk in front of him. “If we’re going to do this, we need to do it soon. They won’t let us keep him on the ship forever.”

“Indeed they will not,” Spock agreed softly. “Based on protocols, a ship with damage this severe will be removed from service for complete repairs as soon as possible. Even portions of the ship which are serviceable will be shut down.”

“How long do you think we have?”

“The most likely time frame for removal of all personnel will be eighty-two-point-seven hours, although we may be asked to clear the ship in as little as twenty-four hours if a Starfleet engineering crew is assigned to take over the decontamination of the core and complete systems shutdown. If you insist that the captain is not ready to be moved, we may be able to extend it, but I can not predict how long of an extension we might obtain.”

“Yeah.” Leonard signed. “I need to get back to work.”

“And I must go placate the Admiral.”

Leonard shot Spock a bemused look. “Was that a joke, Spock? A sign of red blood running through those veins of yours after all?”

“No, Doctor. I was merely stating the obvious in parallel to your statement of needing to return to work.”

Leonard snorted, then stood with a groan. “Of course. Couldn’t let you start growing a sense of humor. You might be allergic to it.”

Spock, in response, merely inclined his head and turned on his heel towards the door of the office. However, as it slid open, Spock took one step back, allowing it to slide shut again. “Doctor.”

“Yeah?”

“You said that I would have let Jim die, rather than to violate regulations, had he been in the volcano instead of me. That may have been true a week ago, but...” He met Leonard’s eyes. “I do not believe that would be true now.”

Leonard felt his jaw drop, but before he could scramble his brain together to say something, Spock was gone. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the door, and wondering what the hell had happened.

*********

It wasn’t the platelets. It was the proteins.

They weren’t exactly enzymes, and they weren’t exactly prions, but Leonard had found the components of Khan’s blood that had made the guy so damned resilient. He had a set of proteins floating around in his plasma that went like gangbusters on any cellular membrane that had been ruptured due to trauma, repairing any cells that weren’t damaged beyond recognition, and even accelerating the rate of connective tissue fiber regeneration. Even more interesting, the proteins themselves seemed to self-replicate, almost like prions, when more of them were needed to get the job done. It didn’t seem to prevent essential apoptosis. In fact, another enzyme-prion seemed to act like a cellular hit-man, taking out faulty cells with severely damaged DNA or overwhelming organelle damage. Another seemed to accelerate cell replication by enhancing the action of the ribosomes, and Leonard would be damned if he could figure out how it worked in time to save Jim before Starfleet got too nosy.

All of those proteins worked in a way that was compatible with almost any carbon-based, multicellular organism. If someone injected these proteins into any organism with common biology, from tribbles to Tellarites, it would work on any of them.

It was ingenious. It was incredible. And it was terrifying.

In a small tube in Leonard’s hands, he was holding a crude serum containing a set of proteins that would render a person all but immortal. Not completely, of course. Based on his preliminary studies of the serum on human tissue cultures, it didn’t have the capacity to regenerate lost body parts or to completely stop the aging process, but it would stimulate cells to regrow small areas of lost or necrotic tissue and to slow several factors in the aging process. It would repair deformities. It would extend life, possibly to double the expected life span.The implications were staggering.

“Are yeh gonna use it, laddie?”

Montgomery Scott was leaning against the doorframe of the lab, looking as bleary-eyed as Leonard felt.

With a sigh, Leonard tilted his head, inviting Scott to sit down before he fell over. “How can I not?”

Scotty settled himself with a grunt. “Simple as anything. Yeh put the thing in the recycler and walk away.”

“And you know I can’t do that.”

Scotty gave him a deeply sympathetic look. “Aye. Neither could I.” He glanced out through the door of the lab into the main part of sickbay. “I’ve been delaying them as much as I can without rousing suspicion, but I cannae do it for much longer. We’ve been at it for about thirty hours, and they’ll likely expect results by tomorrow. Once I finish the complete shut-down and decon of the core, I’ll have to hand the ship over to the engineers from spacedock.”

“And with no further reason to keep essential personnel aboard...”

“Right, McCoy.” He settled back into his chair. “We’ve all been through a lot with Jim, but you’ve been with him since you arrived at the Academy. I can’t imagine what it must feel like for yeh to see ‘im there. It was awful enough when I found him.”

“I...” Leonard looked up at Scotty, suddenly feeling an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. “I’ve wanted to ask you this since yesterday, but we’ve both been too busy. When... when you found Jim... why didn’t you keep trying to reach me? They only told me that there was a patient with critical radiation exposure. They didn’t say who it was.”

For a moment, Scotty froze, but then he leaned his elbows heavily on Leonard’s desk and sighed like a man who had picked up the world when Atlas dropped it. “They didn’t say who it was because I didn’t tell them. Partly because I couldn’t let the crew know what’d just happened to the captain. Not like that. Not over the comm. But also... because I know yeh, laddie. It was too late to save him from the radiation -”

“I would have wanted to see him one last time.” The admission was soft and harsh at once.

Scotty’s eyes widened slightly. “I know, McCoy. I know. But... you’re the man who came to me for help investigating the shuttle crash that almost killed Jim back at the academy, even though you knew that if I’d reported yeh, it could’ve ended your career.”

“It could have ended your career, too,” Leonard said flatly. “And you went along with it.”

“Aye, that I did. And I don’t regret it. Not one bit. I did it because I felt it was good and right to help you solve yer friend’s mystery, and I dinnae like the smell I was gettin’ from the whole mess. But you? You did it because you couldn’t turn the lad down, even if he didn’t know you were helping him, and even if it would have killed yer career in the process. You’d’ve done anything for Jim.” Scotty gave him a level gaze. “McCoy... there was nothing you could do for him.”

“I could have been there, dammit!”

“And done what? Dropped everything else, maybe even another critical patient? We were already in a crisis, and too many of the crew were injured.”

Leonard bristled. “I wouldn’t have abandoned another patient.”

“You would’ve thought about it, and you can’t tell me that it wouldn’t have ruined your ability to focus on the patients you could save.”

For a long moment, Leonard sat in silence, picturing what Scotty had described, over and over again. Finally, he let his head droop forward in defeat. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Scotty said sadly. “Just because I work with the guts of ships instead of the guts of people doesn’t mean I don’t understand a thing or two about human nature. You’d follow that man anywhere. And although we haven’t known him as long, we all would.”

“I know.” Then Leonard looked at the vial of serum in his hand. “I still don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I start to think that maybe this is going too far, and I wonder if I would do this for any other patient. But then... I go to check on the cryo unit, and every time, I look at his face through the viewport, and it’s like he’s just asleep, and I’m just working on yet another cure for the latest scrape Jim Kirk got himself into. The line gets really blurry really fast.”

“What would Jim want you to do?”

Leonard opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly when he realized that he didn’t have an answer.

Jim was a man who had cheated death more than once, and who would rewrite the rules so that he could beat the unbeatable. He didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, and if it was anyone else in that cryo pod, he would insist on trying anything and everything to bring them back.

But Jim was also a man who knew his own mortality, and had accepted it. People said he acted as though he thought he was immortal, but really, it was quite the opposite. To Jim, life was precious, but part of what made it precious to him was that it was so terribly fragile, and so horribly temporary. That’s why he went out on a limb so often - because to give anything less would be an insult to what he felt life should be. And if the price of living fully was dying sooner rather than later, then at least that meant he’d given it his all.

Jim would have accepted his death.

Leonard wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“I don’t know. But I know what I have to do.”

Scotty nodded slowly. “Then we’re with yeh, McCoy. Jim is a bloody piece of work, but he’s what makes this crew. We need our captain.”

“And I need my friend.”

“Aye.”

Leonard stared at the vial for another minute, then reached over and toggled the comm switch. “McCoy to Spock.”

“Spock here.”

“You said you wanted to know when we were ready. So... get down here. We’re about to get started.”

“On my way. Spock out.”

Scotty pushed his chair back from the desk and stood slowly. “I’ll be getting myself back to engineering. We’re about to start phase three of shutdown and decontamination of the core.”

“Okay.” Leonard nodded vaguely, still staring at the vial. “Good luck down there.”

“Thanks, McCoy. You too.”

“Thanks.” Leonard watched him leave, and when the door slid shut behind the chief engineer, he sighed. “Thanks,” he said again. “I’m gonna need it.”

*********

It was easier to put someone into cryostasis than to take them out. Even if you started with a live body, the cryo process would put a stop to all essential physiological functions. When you thawed out the body, it would technically be dead until you restarted all those functions again. That restart sequence was the tricky part, and between checking his tests on Khan’s blood serum, he’d been running computer models of the cryo reanimation sequence based on every historical reference he could find. They had a plan, and a better than 85% chance of initially reviving him.

Then, of course, there was the small matter of reversing an obscene amount of radiation damage before Jim died of it again.

The whole thing definitely had Leonard’s stomach tied up in knots. At least it was almost enough to distract him from the ethical dilemma that had been eating at him for the past thirty-two hours.

Almost.

“M’Benga, are you ready with neurostim?”

Geoffrey looked up from the panel just long enough to nod. “Powered up and ready to go.”

Leonard nodded. “Carlson, have you got the cardiopulmonary bypass primed?”

“It’s looking good.”

“Xiao?” He looked over at the pulmonary specialist. “Ready with respiratory support?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Okay. Let’s get him out of there.” With hands that were far more steady than his nerves, Leonard activated the thawing cycle. “Spock, give me a temperature readout every five degrees until the last ten below the thaw point, then give me a degree-by-degree countdown.”

“Yes, doctor. Current temperature is 90 kelvins and rising at a rate of 15 kelvins per minute.”

“Dammit, Spock, give it to me in degrees Celsius.”

Spock gave him a very pointed eyebrow raise. “That system is much less efficient at ultra-low temperatures and -”

“Spock.”

“The temperature is now negative 181.3 degrees Celsius.”

The next several minutes dragged on, and Leonard was pretty sure they were all barely breathing until Spock gave the final countdown. Leonard’s hands actually did shake as he switched over from the automated process to the manual field manipulation that would almost instantly pull Jim’s body temperature above the freezing point of human blood.

The room was absolutely silent, and then, one green light came on at the head of the pod.

“Get him out of there!” Leonard slapped the trigger for the locking mechanism on the pod’s hatch, and the lid obediently flew open. “Gentle! Be gentle! Spock, lift from the left side. Right there.” Leonard slipped his hands under Jim’s head. So cold... so damned cold. “On three! One... two... three!”

Jim’s body was deposited on the biobed, and Leonard tried not to cringe. The radiation burns stood out in stark contrast to his horrific pallor, and, of course, he wasn’t breathing. Technically, he wasn’t alive. It was so completely wrong.

Everyone had been thoroughly briefed on their role in the resuscitation, so there wasn’t any need to speak beyond simple commands and coordinating movements. The room was oddly quiet despite the atmosphere of tension and possibly desperation.

Leonard was working on the cardiopulmonary bypass with Doctor Carlson, while M’Benga set up cerebral neurostim and monitoring sensors on Jim’s head. Within five minutes, Jim’s entire blood supply was being routed through a machine where it was oxygenated, cleansed, mixed with blood replenishers and nutrients, and returned to his body with enough pressure to keep it circulating. It was nowhere near as grotesque as the old-fashioned techniques that originated the concept, but it was still something Leonard didn’t like having to do to a patient... even a dead one.

When he finally looked up again from setting up the bypass, he found himself briefly amazed by the efficiency of his team. “Neurostim?”

“Active at ten percent and ready to increase the levels on your order,” M’Benga replied.

Leonard looked up at the respirator equipment. “Did it go smoothly?”

“As smooth as it could be, doctor,” Xiao said. “Elasticity is poor, but we’re already measuring trace oxygen absorption. We won’t know about carbon dioxide until his metabolism starts again, but he’s got lesions and damaged alveoli from the radiation burns in his lungs. Without the bypass, he wouldn’t be able to get enough oxygen anyway.”

“Well,” Leonard said, reaching for the equipment tray, “let’s see if we can get some of those lesions to heal up.” He grabbed the vial that he’d been contemplating too much over the past few hours, and without letting himself hesitate, he fixed it to one of the infusion ports on the bypass machine.

They watched in silence as the straw-colored serum drained into the machine, mixing with Jim’s blood where it was pumped back into his body. Seconds stretched into minutes. Leonard had no idea what he was waiting for. It wasn’t as though there was an established timeline for improvement in this process. He had no idea what to expect.

“Geoffrey... increase neurostim at a rate of two percent per minute until you reach fifty percent.”

M’Benga made the adjustment without a word.

“Signs of cellular metabolism?”

At the monitor station, Carlson pulled up a new readout screen. “Nothing yet.”

“Come on, Jim,” Leonard whispered to himself.

“Leonard,” M’Benga said suddenly, and there was a different tone in his voice. “I think I’m seeing some electrical activity in the medulla oblongata. I can’t be sure... it could just be that the pulses from the stim are being carried down.”

Leonard spun around and looked down at the neuro monitor screen. “Dead nerve cells don’t relay electrical impulses. Tighten the scan. Focus the sensors on the synapses in the brain stem.”

At first, it barely looked like an echo of the artificial electrical impulse being transmitted by the stim unit, but then, it got stronger. “I think we’ve got something,” Leonard said, trying not to let himself feel any real hope yet.

“Doctor McCoy,” Xiao spoke up. “I’m getting traces of CO2 in the gas mix. Lung elasticity is increasing.”

Leonard’s jaw fell slack for a moment as he took in the possibility that it might actually be working. “He’s metabolizing?”

Xiao pointed to a rise in the graph representing carbon dioxide concentration. “He might be blowing off some of the CO2 that was still in his tissues, but -”

“It’s better than nothing. Carlson, prep the full cardiac kit. We’ll start less invasive, but we might have to go to direct stimulation to get his ticker restarted.”

It was an unnecessary order; she was already activating the device and calibrating it. “How long should we wait?”

Leonard sighed. “I don’t know, Meg. We’re flying blind here. We don’t want to try restart his heart too soon if the tissues are still too damaged from the radiation. And hell, we don’t even know if this will work at all.”

“Well, something is working, Doctor McCoy,” Xiao chimed in. “CO2 levels are still increasing, and lung elasticity is still improving. I’ve worked on smoke inhalation victims enough times to know that elasticity doesn’t improve that quickly from burns. Something unusual is definitely happening.”

“We’re getting feedback on the neural sensors,” M’Benga said. “It’s definitely not just an echo.”

Leonard looked up at the biobed’s main readout. So far, nothing looked out of place on a large scale. Blood pressure was only measurable because of the pressure from the bypass. Oxygen saturation was good, but again, wholly artificial. “Get me a cellular scanner. I want to see what’s happening to his cell membranes.”

The device was placed in his outstretched hand, even as he was still staring numbly at the biobed readout. Shaking himself, he activated the scanner and pressed it to the inside of Jim’s forearm.

He blinked. Twice. And his jaw fell just a bit slack.

The cell membranes were knitting together at a remarkable rate. It should have been impossible, but the activity from the proteins was obvious. There was widespread cell destruction as well, and that would likely continue for a while, as the other parts of the serum sought out the cells with severe DNA and organelle damage and destroyed them. That would probably get progressively more ugly for a few days, but that was expected. In the meantime, cells and tissues that should have been dead and gone were knitting themselves back together at the cellular level in front of Leonard’s eyes.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he breathed. “Carlson, get the cardiac pads ready. I think we’ll be ready to shock his heart in about five minutes.”

“I’m on it.”

Leonard was still looking at the incredible cell regrowth under the scanner when he heard a beep.

Then another beep.

He looked up. “What the devil -”

“We’ve got a rhythm!”

Leonard looked up at the unexpected readout on the biobed’s main screen. “Carlson, did you shock him?”

“No! It just started on its own.” Carlson’s expression was wavering between stunned and ecstatic.

“Leonard, we’ve definitely got independent brain activity,” M’Benga said. “It’s spreading from the brainstem through the cerebellum. And... yes, I’m seeing signs of independent activity in the cerebrum.”

Leonard stared at his colleagues, and then down at Jim, who was still looking pale and damaged and fragile, but... dear God, he was alive.

“Congratulations, doctor,” came a steady voice by Leonard’s ear. Leonard startled to see Spock standing just behind him, giving him an unreadable look. “You’ve done it.”

Leonard swallowed. “I didn’t do anything, Spock. Someone else did. I just rode their coattails.”

“Were it not for your quick thinking and skilled actions, this would not be possible.”

Leonard stared at Spock for a moment, then across at the biobed readout. A steady cardiac rhythm was beeping, and all indicators of biofunctions were active. “I know,” Leonard finally said. “And I’m still praying that we’ve done the right thing.”

“Praying, doctor? I was not aware that you were a religious or superstitious man,” Spock said curiously.

“Spock, I just raised someone from the dead. If there was ever a time to pray, I think I’ve found it.” He sighed, and then, not caring what anyone else thought, he stepped closer to the biobed and wrapped his hand around Jim’s. The skin was still cool beneath his fingers, but it felt like human flesh again. Gently, he pressed two fingers against Jim’s pulse point, feeling the steady thrum of life coursing through veins.

“In my book,” Leonard continued, “life is better than death. I’ve spent my entire career trying to hold back the tide of death against the impossible odds of one to zero. I’ve beaten those odds for the first time in my life, and there’s a real chance that we’ll have Jim back, hale and whole.”

“Then logically, you would believe that this is good,” Spock stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s just it... I’m not sure.”

*********

(To Chapter 2)

Truncated Pendiculation.

mijan — Tue, 25 Jun 2013 18:00:48 GMT

My Trophy Wife was having an indulgent stretch-and-yawn in our big armchair. She was unable to stretch all the way backwards because the back of the chair bumped into the desk that I brought upstairs to sell on Craig's List.

I said, "Truncated pendiculation."

Trophy Wife gave me a look.

I hereby challenge Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto to a vocabulary war.

:D

I'm still alive. :D

mijan — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 20:07:40 GMT

Hey everyone, I know I haven't posted in a while, so I wanted to let folks know what's going on.

First of all, I've begun working as an EMT. Yes! I left the chocolate job (really, I'm NOT cut out to be a sales person), and although my current position isn't ideal, at least I'm working as an EMT. It's an EMT/Security Officer position at a casino.

The Pros: Could get the job very quickly. Acceptable pay for an EMT-B. Cool coworkers. Crazy people-watching. Never have to pack a lunch if I'm in a rush. Full-time. Set schedule. Swing shift. Always two days off in a row, same two days each week.
The Cons: It's a casino, and I dislike gambling. Cigarette smoke. (The ventilation system is good, but still... smoking. Ick. My asthma has been acting up because of it.) My days off are Monday and Tuesday, which means I only get one day every three weeks off with my Trophy Wife. And... it's not an ambulance.

I'm still looking for ambulance positions, so... it's something in the meantime.

What else am I doing?

Well... WRITING. Yes, as rumor has it, there is indeed a post-STID fic in the works from me. It's technically a continuation of my Academy Series, only now taking STID canon into account. And, of course, because it's ME, that also means I'm going to take the lemons JJ gave us and do my best to make sangria with them. Rectifying canon with intelligence? Challenge accepted. I've got the first three chapters done, which leads me to a...

QUESTION: Should I post one chapter at a time, as I complete them, or post the fic all at once? There are, of course, pros and cons for each option, and I've considered them with no conclusion.

Anyway, that's about it for now. I'm getting together with a friend for a late lunch, and then I'll be going to ride rollercoasters tonight. :D

♥

Too funny.

mijan — Sat, 08 Jun 2013 07:25:07 GMT

I have a new coworker.

His name is James L. McCoy. He goes by Jim.

Yes, seriously.

I am so amused.

I have already informed him that he required a nickname, and that I have nicknamed him Bones. He has accepted this as inevitable.

(Edited for more amusement.)

Publishing fanfic through Amazon and Kindle?

mijan — Thu, 23 May 2013 12:30:17 GMT

Guys, take a look at this:

http://saathi1013.tumblr.com/post/51111214437/cats-dogs-living-together-a-response-to-the-kindle

I'm not sure what I think. What are your thoughts on the matter?

It's finished.

mijan — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 05:44:31 GMT

I've finished my Academy Series. "The Needs of the Few" has been posted in-full both on my Livejournal and on my AO3 account.

The total word count for TNotF is 174,062.

The total word count for the whole Academy Series is 398,551.

And now... I'm having a damned beer.

G'nite!

Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (23/23)

mijan — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 03:43:17 GMT

Title: "The Needs of the Few"
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 10,703
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?

Notes: This is it, kids. Final chapter. It's been one hell of a ride. Thanks for coming along with me on this journey. With the new movie coming out, I’m sure we’ll have lots of new fanfic inspiration. I'm just glad I got to share this one with you.

Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two

Chapter 23

Leonard felt the slight change in the vibration of the ship’s deck plates as the USS Athena dropped out of warp. He paused out of instinct, glanced at the chrono on the wall, then went back to folding his few belongings into his duffel.

In 30 minutes, they would make their rendezvous with the Federation transport ship Sutter, where the cadets would transfer ships and make the three-day journey back to Earth. Their internship was over. In just over a week, the fall semester would be starting. There’d be a new wave of fresh-faced cadets. The tedium of lecture halls, labs, training simulations, and fitness routines. Clinical duty at Starfleet Medical. Back to normal.

Normal.

Leonard shoved a folded t-shirt into his bag much more violently than necessary, scowling to himself. There was no such thing as normal anymore, and the fact that he was still pretending he knew anything about normalcy was ridiculous.

So much had happened. So much had changed. In the middle of everything, the idea of space exploration and Starfleet’s mission had gone from a gloriously abstract concept in an academy professor’s lecture to cold, hard reality. On a superficial level, in the immediate calm following the storm, the peace he’d made with it had turned out to be more of a temporary truce to keep himself together. He was still trying to process what had happened, and truth be told, he wasn’t altogether sure what he thought of it.

He was about to zip his duffel shut when his door chimed. He frowned; he wasn’t expecting anyone, and Jim had said he’d meet him down in the shuttle bay. “Enter.”

A familiar head of brown hair and a warm smile greeted him. “You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Doctor Brex asked.

Leonard relaxed and leaned against the wall next to his bunk. “I thought the surprise not-going-away party you sprang on me yesterday was enough,” he replied lightly.

Brex chuckled. “I had nothing to do with that, actually.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow, then nodded in understanding. “Walsh, right?”

“Got it in one.”

“I’m going to miss her,” Leonard said, picking up another shirt and folding it. “She’s a damned good nurse to have around.” He stuffed the shirt into his bag.

“She definitely is.” Brex walked in and sank down onto the bunk across from Leonard’s, crossing his right ankle across his left knee casually. “Just to let you know... when you’re CMO of your own medical bay on a starship - and yes, Leonard, you will be - if you’re lucky, you’ll have a head nurse who will know what you need before you know it yourself, and will be able to scare your captain into coming down for his physical with nothing but a cheerful reminder.”

Leonard snorted in amusement, but In the back of his mind, he pictured Nurse Aldrich from his rotations at Starfleet Medical’s ER and wondered if she’d be amenable to a shipboard position someday. “I’ve known a few nurses like that over the years.”

“Over the years?” Brex gave him a look. “Still trying to sound like an old man?”

“I am an old man,” he replied automatically.

“I’ve said this before. You’re not old, Leonard.”

His instinctive sarcastic retort died before it reached his lips. He’d meant to say that after the shit he’d been through, he’d aged three times as fast as another man his age. Instead, a different sensation worked its way through him... something that he hadn’t felt in years.

In the face of the horrors he’d witnessed, he felt overwhelmed and innocent, like a child who hadn’t been ready for the real world. It had been terrifying. He had gone in so naive, without the experience needed to deal with that sort of thing, and he’d been surrounded by people who had already been dealing with space exploration for years.

He looked at Brex’s face, and not for the first time, he reminded himself that Brex was much older than he looked by human standards. The man had seen a lot, and there he was, patiently listening to Leonard call himself old.

Brex was right. Leonard wasn’t old, and the realization that he couldn’t hide behind that lie anymore left him feeling uneasy and exposed. He had been a skilled surgeon on earth, young but respected in his field, and confident beyond what he had a right to be... but as a Starfleet officer, he was as green as a new colt. He was awkward and unseasoned and not nearly ready for this.

At the same time, a new sensation was dawning on him. He felt strangely exhilarated by the unknown, the challenge, the abyss of his future stretched out in front of him. The last time he’d felt like that, he’d been holding his acceptance letter to medical school, nervous and excited and terrified all at once. All of his studying and testing up to that point had seemed like such a daunting task that he’d overcome, and he’d expected relief that he’d achieved it... only to realize that he had only climbed the first step in his attempt to summit a mountain.

For years, Leonard had been looking back at his trail down the mountain behind him, feeling his age as he’d focused on where he’d been. Now, he was looking up again. He wasn’t sure what the sensation was, but it was leaving him unbalanced.

“Leonard? Are you okay?”

Leonard shook his head, trying to clear the image. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He grabbed his PADD and dropped it on top of his folded clothing, then zipped up the duffel. “Just thinking too much.”

Brex smiled. “You’ve done more than enough thinking over the past two months. Your thesis looks great, you’ve helped quite a few members of our crew make progress in dealing with their phobias, and you’ve proven yourself to be an excellent shipboard doctor.”

Ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks, Leonard shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

“Someday,” Brex said as he rose to his feet, “you’ll learn to accept a compliment as smoothly as you perform emergency surgery.”

“Well, we can’t all of us be perfect now, can we?” He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. “For now, I’ll be happy if I can survive until graduation with all my limbs attached, and maybe see if I can help Jim accomplish the same.”

“With you around, he’s got a pretty good chance.” Brex inclined his head towards the door. “Walk you to the shuttle bay?”

Leonard smiled easily. “Why not?”

The hallways weren’t any more active than usual for 0845 hours. The rendezvous with the Sutter was routine for everyone except the cadets who would be heading back to Earth. Pick up a few supplies, drop of a few cadets, and continue with the mission. Life in the black would continue without Leonard McCoy - all the adventures and emergencies and excitement even if he wasn’t there to see it.

Yeah, maybe he didn’t feel as old as he’d thought.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Brex said lightly as the turbolift dropped them off on Deck 14.

“Force of habit.” He sighed as he shifted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Once I get back to Earth, I’m gonna drag Jim to O’Leary’s Pub, and we’re going to drink too much and stop thinking for a few hours.”

“If that’s what you need to do to re-set yourself, then go for it, but don’t you have some real time off before the start of the next semester?”

“Yeah. We’ve got a couple of weeks before fall semester starts up.”

Brex nodded thoughtfully. “I’d really suggest getting away for a few days. Get out of the city. Take some quiet time.”

“And that’s supposed to help me stop thinking?”

Brex gave him a sideways glance. “Or maybe give you time to think about things the way you need to. You’ve been through a lot. I’m glad you took the time to talk to me about it, but it will take you a while to process it the way you need to. And besides... what were we talking about on the first day of your internship? Something about how the health of the mind is just as important as the health of the body, and that’s something a lot of Starfleet doctors tend to forget?”

Leonard raised an eyebrow and sighed with chagrin. “Doctor, heal thyself. Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he said with a sly smile. “That’s why they made me a Commander.”

Leonard rolled his eyes as the shuttle bay doors opened in front of them. He pulled up short just inside the shuttle bay. Some of the cadets were already down there, but he didn’t see Jim. A hand rested gently on his shoulder, and he startled slightly to see Brex giving him a warm look.

“I know you’re going to go wherever they assign you, but with your credentials, you’ve got a say in it. The Athena is being refitted at the end of this tour as a research vessel. I’ve been offered the CMO position aboard the USS Farragut once they finish the refit on her next spring, and I’m thinking about taking it. She’s a Constitution Class ship, and there will probably be some exciting times. That will be right around the time you graduate, if I’m not mistaken.”

Leonard opened his mouth to reply, and realized he had no idea what to say. “I... thank you, but I have no idea where I want to serve. I hadn’t really thought about it actually. I kinda figure... I...” His voice trailed off.

Brex nodded in understanding. “You kinda figured you’d request to go wherever Kirk goes.”

Leonard nodded, feeling a bit sheepish.

“Well, honestly... I think that sounds like a good plan. He needs you as much as you need him, and if this internship of yours was any indication, the two of you are going to do some interesting things in your careers.”

A warm flush that Leonard couldn’t quite define crept up his neck and threatened to overtake his ears and cheeks. “We’ll probably just find new and interesting ways to get ourselves killed.”

Brex laughed. “You are the proverbial ray of sunshine.”

Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle. “Glad to brighten your day.”

“You have, actually. You usually do.” Brex’s expression became absolutely sincere. He took a quick glance over at the group of cadets by the shuttlecraft before looking back at Leonard. “It’s been a pleasure serving with you, Doctor McCoy,” he said, holding out his hand.

Leonard accepted the handshake, warm and friendly. “Likewise, Doctor Brex.”

But Brex didn’t release his hand immediately. “And Leonard? It’s been a pleasure having you as a friend. I’m proud of you.”

“I...” Leonard blinked in surprise, and the automatic impulse to brush off the kind words almost broke through... but in a heartbeat, he pushed that impulse back down. Then he smiled. “Thank you.”

“Just being honest. Stay in touch after you graduate, and maybe consider a tour on the Farragut if you can drag Kirk along for the ride.”

“Will do. Thank you.”

With one last firm pump of the handshake, Brex released his hand, turned, and walked out of the shuttlebay. Leonard watched him go, shuddering with the same odd chill he’d felt far too many times in recent weeks when watching someone walk away. The mental image of Jim walking out the door on Araxis flickered through his mind.

Yeah, maybe he did need some time to process things.

He turned and looked at the rest of the cadets, talking amongst themselves next to the shuttlecraft. Like him, they were all back in their cadet reds. It seemed wrong, somehow.

He heard the hiss of the door behind him, and the cheerful greeting, “Bones!” a split second before a hand clapped him heavily on the shoulder. He startled sharply, his breath catching in his chest as Jim fell into stride behind him, grinning broadly at having surprised his best friend.

Again.

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Infant.”

“Come on, Bones... we’ve got three days to be cooped up on a transport ship. If I don’t start blowing off energy now, I might reach critical mass, implode, and form a rift in space-time, and that can’t be good for getting back to campus in time for the next semester.”

“Well, just implode in your own quarters, not mine.”

“Oh! Forgot to tell you - the transport ship bunks us two to a room, so I got us assigned to the same quarters.”

Leonard looked up at the ceiling and sighed, hiding his impulse to grin at Jim’s usual meddling. “For the love of bourbon, please tell me you brought some study material.”

Jim grinned more broadly. “No assignments yet for next semester’s classes.”

“Reading material?”

“Porn.”

“Goddammit, Jim.”

Jim’s laughter echoed off the walls and ceiling of the shuttle bay.

*********

The shuttle from Starbase 1 to the Academy Shuttle Hangar was almost as spartan as the one they’d taken from the Riverside Shipyard two years ago. This one was designed for space flight, not just high atmosphere transport, so it was a bit more substantial, but not by much. Still, when Jim looked over at Bones, he was pleased to see that the guy didn’t look the slightest bit anxious.

Well... he didn’t look as though he was uneasy about the flight. He did, on the other hand, look preoccupied. He was staring out the viewport, but he didn’t seem to be looking at the familiar planet spinning below them, or at anything else in particular.

“Bones?”

Bones didn’t respond. He didn’t even blink.

Jim frowned. His best friend had been unusually quiet during their three days on the transport ship. Jim had given him plenty of openings for conversation, but Bones hadn’t taken any of them. He’d been like that during the last couple of weeks on the Athena, but with Earth in front of them and their internship now behind them, the silence was too much. “Hey, Bones?” This time, he nudged the guy with his elbow for good measure.

“Huh?” Bones startled and turned towards Jim, his eyes coming into focus from somewhere far away. “What?”

Jim shook his head in frustration. “Come on, man... what’s eating you?”

“Just... just stuff, Jim.”

Jim gave him a look. “And you think I’m going to take that for an answer?”

When Bones didn’t reply, Jim sighed and turned slightly in his seat to face Bones more straight on. “Listen, I know we both went through a lot over the past couple of months, but you talked more in the days right after Araxis than you did in the last couple of weeks. I know you, Bones. Something’s up. So stop stewing in your own brain juices and just tell me what’s going on.”

Bones lips twisted into an unreadable expression. “Brain juices, Jim?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m weird. But spill it.”

For a long moment, Bones was quiet. Then, in a small voice, without looking at Jim, he said, “I got in touch with Jocelyn a week after the battle.”

Jim felt his eyes go wide. “You never told me. What did you say to her? What did she say?”

“Well... she had heard about what happened on Araxis through the Federation News Network, and I told her in the first message that I had been there.” He took an unsteady breath. “Apparently, she didn’t really believe me at first, but when she looked into it, she found out that I’d been in the middle of the whole mess... so she replied. And we talked.”

Jim let out a low whistle. “What did you talk about?”

Another long, silent moment passed. “About acting like adults because life is too short and fragile to be petty when our daughter deserves better than that. We remembered that we were friends once, and while some bridges can’t be mended, we can be civil.”

Jim nodded slowly. “Then... that’s pretty good, right? I mean, if you two are talking... that means you’ll get to see Joanna again, and maybe spend more time with her... what?”

Bones’ expression became pinched and strained. “That’s just it - she stopped replying two weeks ago when I asked her if I could spend some of my time with Joanna before the start of the semester.”

“Oh.” Bones’ mood was making more sense now. “Hey, maybe she was just busy, right? I mean, you said she was always doing social bullshit and getting wrapped up in events and stuff, right?”

“Yeah,” Bones replied, his voice flat. “Maybe.” He looked back out the window and fell silent again.

Jim was trying to figure out what to say to reassure the guy, but nothing was coming to mind. Just a few short weeks ago, they’d come within minutes - or maybe seconds - of being vaporized. Now, with Bones having been given a second chance, it probably felt like that chance was being taken away again, and Jim had no idea what to say to that.

“Hey Jim?” Bones’ voice finally cut the silence, although he didn’t turn away from the window. “What are you doing until the start of the next semester?”

Jim frowned. “Well... I didn’t really have any set plans. Maybe schedule some group sim time with my flight squad once they all get back to campus next week. Do some extra physical training. Maybe I’ll even sleep in a couple of times. Why?”

“Remember that idea we had last summer... about getting out of the city, renting a cabin up in the Sierra Nevadas, and just having some quiet time away from everyone else?”

“Yeah,” Jim said feeling a flash of regret. “And then I got selected as a flight team candidate and had to stay for training and evaluations. I’m sorry about that, Bones. I wanted to do it.” Then he grinned. “Want to go for it now?”

Bones finally turned away from the viewport, giving Jim a tentative smile in return. “I was considering it. Wanted to see what your plans were first.”

“I think I have plans to sit around a campfire, drink beer, go fishing, and maybe do some rock climbing.”

Bones smile turned into a critical scowl. “Rock climbing, Jim? I was planning this to be relaxing.”

“Climbing is relaxing!”

The eyebrow creeped up towards Bones’ hairline. “Maybe for you, but I’m just picturing myself on the ground, trying not to have a hypertensive stroke watching you risk your damned neck for a thrill. Why the hell would anyone want to climb a mountain?”

“Because it’s there,” Jim said simply. Then, at the sudden shift in Bones’ expression, Jim nodded, and pointed towards the window. “Same reason we go into space, Bones. Because it’s there. That’s who we are.”

For a long moment, Bones looked at him, then sighed. “You’re right, kid.” Then he looked out the window again. “I’ll have to pack some anti-anxiety meds, but yeah, I think you’re right.”

Jim chuckled, and he could see Bones smiling in the reflection in the shuttle viewport.

The fell into silence again, but the silence wasn’t heavy or oppressive. They watched the view outside the window turn lighter as the vacuum of space retreated behind them. In only a few minutes, the curved horizon of the Earth became flat, and vague landscapes began to resolve into a familiar city. The Golden Gate Bridge cut through light puffs of fog, bright red in the sunlight.

“Home, sweet home,” Bones mumbled to himself.

“Mmm-hmm,” Jim replied softly.

The shuttle banked to the left, and Jim watched over Bones’ shoulder as they made their final approach. Then he frowned. “There’s a crowd outside the hangar.”

“Yeah, there is,” Bones said in confused agreement.

“And... they’re assembling,” Jim said in surprise. “There’s a stage. Holy shit, Bones... they didn’t tell us.”

“Of course they didn’t tell us.” His words were laced with annoyance. “That’s why they call crap like this a surprise.”

“I’m surprised.”

Bones looked back at him with a strange expression on his face. “You shouldn’t be, Jim. After what you did -”

But Jim found himself shaking his head. “I just did my duty.”

Bones let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, you did, Jim. And the thing of it is... that’s more than most people ever do.”

“You did it, too.”

There was a soft clank as the shuttlecraft touched down on the plascrete floor of the shuttle hangar.

Bones looked back at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. For a moment, Jim thought he was going to protest, but then his eyes closed for a second. When they opened, he was smiling softly. “Thanks, kid. Come on... let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”

They went to the back of the compartment to get their duffels, talking quietly to the other cadets in the shuttle, who seemed just as surprised as they were.

“Any chance we can just slip out the back?” Liu said uneasily as he swung his bag out of the storage compartment. As confident as he was about his duties, he hated being in front of people.

Buhari gave him an amused look. “You can take a bullet, but you’re camera shy?”

“We all have our issues,” Liu replied in an undertone.

“All I want is to go hide in my dorm room until the start of the semester,” Nadeau chimed in. “I’m just glad we’re all alive.”

“We’re not all alive,” Wilcox said flatly.

Everyone in the shuttle’s passenger compartment froze. They looked at each other, nobody daring to break the silence first. Hererra’s death had been mourned aboard the ship, but after that, none of the cadets had talked about it much. It was too raw, and hit too close to home. Jim knew that Bones had been talking to Doctor Brex about it a little bit, but mostly, they’d remained silent.

To Jim’s surprise, it was Bones who broke the standstill. “I’ve lost patients plenty of times before,” he said roughly, “but I’ve never seen someone killed in front of me. Not like that. Still... we’re Starfleet now. We’re not going to hide from what happened, just like we’re not going to hide from the crowd out there.” Then he turned to Jim, who had, in many ways, remained the effective leader of the cadets even after they’d recovered from the events on Araxis. “Isn’t that right, Kirk?”

Bones held eye contact until Jim was compelled to nod. “Yeah.” Then he looked at everyone else in the shuttle. “That’s right.”

When everyone had nodded and murmured their agreement, Jim stepped forward and triggered the hatch release. “Come on, guys. Let’s go.”

*********

It wasn’t a long ceremony. There was a crowd, but it wasn’t too big. Captain Pike was officiating.

To Jim, it was all a blur.

There was a moment of silence for Hererra, and an announcement of the official memorial service to be held at the start of the semester. Pike gave a brief recap of the events on Araxis. Then there was applause as Jim, Buhari, Liu, and Wilcox received commendations for being wounded in the line of duty. Bones was given some sort of special recognition for valor in the line of duty as a medical professional. Jim didn’t even catch the name of the award, but he was impressed by how gracious Bones was when he accepted it.

And suddenly, Pike was standing in front of him again with a box.

“Sir?”

“This is a joint award from Starfleet and the people of both Axanar and Araxis.” Pike’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers from the tiny microphone clipped to his collar, but his eyes were on Jim, and his smile was warm. “Both planets bear a plant that resembles a Terran palm tree. It has long been a symbol of selflessness and service on their planets, and represents those who are held in the highest honor by both the Axanar and Araxians. On Earth, it symbolizes victory and triumph. Therefore, for exceptional valor and selfless service which was instrumental in the successful resolution of the events on Araxis, I am proud to present you with the Palm Leaf of Axanar Peace Mission.”

Pike opened the box, revealing a medal with an unusual design - a silver-toned ribbon, from which hung a silver palm leaf cluster encrusted with a single opal.

This was too weird. Jim stared at it, feeling oddly separate from his own body. He was on a stage, in front of a few hundred people, being presented with an award that hadn’t existed until just now, and he didn’t know what to say.

Then there was an elbow against his arm, and the familiar sound of Bones clearing his throat.

Heat rose in Jim’s cheeks, and he pulled himself together. “I... thank you, sir.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own in his ears.

Still, Captain Pike just gave a gentle smile as he lifted the medal out of the box and pinned it to the front of Jim’s uniform. Then, he stepped back to the podium, said a few more words, and the crowd applauded enthusiastically.

Jim knew he should feel proud. He should feel thrilled, really. A prestigious award, interplanetary recognition for his part in such a momentous event, and the trust of his peers were raining down on him... but all he could think about were the things that had gone wrong. In fact, those had been the biggest things stewing in his mind ever since he’d woken up in sickbay the morning after the battle. Now, those thoughts were reaching a crescendo in his head, and he couldn’t ignore them.

Why the hell was he being rewarded when so much had gone wrong?

Even as they were waved off the stage and down a set of stairs, Jim could barely think past the dizzying sense of failure that was wrapping everything in a fog.

“Hey, Jim, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Bones,” he replied automatically. “I’m just... thinking.”

“You’re thinking, and you’re shaking. After what you said to me earlier, do you think I’m going to let you get away with giving me that for an answer?”

Jim turned to face his friend. “No... but not here, okay? Maybe over a beer later. I think we’re overdue for a beer night.”

Bones looked at him with understanding and sympathy in his eyes. “Yeah, I think we are.” He took a quick glance back at the pile of bags the cadets had left just inside the hangar, then looked back at Jim. “Yeah, we’re way overdue. How about we grab our bags, drop them off at our rooms, change into civvies, and... and...” His voice trailed off.

“Bones?”

But Bones wasn’t looking at Jim anymore. He was staring over Jim’s shoulder with rapidly widening eyes, and his mouth was hanging open in an expression of disbelief.

With a sudden suspicion, Jim turned around to see a woman standing there. Brown hair done up in a loose braid, brown eyes, wearing a full-length summer dress, and she was distantly familiar. Jim looked back at Bones, who finally spoke, bringing the brief mystery to a close with one word.

“Jocelyn.”

“Leonard,” she replied evenly. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your last few messages, but Captain Pike told me about this little welcome home ceremony, and... well... I wanted to surprise you.”

Bones’ eyes were still wide, and he looked as though he was afraid to move, for fear that it would either explode or disappear. “I’m surprised. I’m damned surprised.”

Jocelyn’s expression soured briefly. “Now, Leonard... you know better than to cuss in front of a child.” And before anyone could ask what she meant, Jocelyn stepped to the side, revealing a short figure that rapidly ducked behind her skirt again. “Come on, Jo. You said you were excited to see him. I think he’d like to see you, too.”

“Joanna?” Bones breathed.

Brown hair and freckles peeked out from behind Jocelyn’s skirt. Hazel eyes blinked, looking so much like Bones’ eyes that it was startling. Three years old? Four? Jim couldn’t remember, but she wasn’t very old. Bones had been in contact with his daughter by commlink for a while, but Jim knew he hadn’t seen her in person since the divorce. That would be a long time for a kid that age. It was no wonder she was being shy.

“Go on, Jo,” Jocelyn said softly. “You talked to him just a couple of weeks ago.”

Slowly, Bones sank down to one knee, putting himself essentially at eye level with his daughter. It was as though he couldn’t see anything else in the universe. “Jo-Jo? Hey, it’s me. I’ve missed you, baby girl. Did you get the doll I sent for your birthday?”

Joanna nodded, and in a small, hesitant voice, she said, “I really like her. She looks like me. Like a little sister. I named her Jenny.”

“That’s a good name,” Bones said carefully but warmly. “I wish I could have brought it to you myself, but I was still in space.”

“I know.”

“Did you have fun taking the shuttle here?”

The little girl shrugged. “I got to read stories on the way here, but I don’t really like shuttles. They make noises.”

Bones sucked in a sharp breath, and Jim could see him shaking slightly. “Want to know a secret? I don’t like shuttles either.”

At that, Joanna took a full step out from behind Jocelyn. “You don’t like shuttles? But I thought you went into space on shuttles.”

Bones smiled, and... was that moisture on his cheeks? “I do go into space on shuttles even though I don’t like them. But I do it because I want to help people. There are a lot of people out there who need help. And then I took a shuttle back here so I could see you.”

Joanna hesitated for a second, then looked up at Jocelyn.

Jocelyn smiled at her and nodded. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

Small feet pattered across the plascrete and Joanna threw her arms around Bones, and Bones was clinging to her as though his life depended on it. They were surrounded by a crowd of people, but they could have been anywhere, and Bones wouldn’t have noticed. There were definitely tears on his cheeks now, and he held Joanna and was saying something softly to her that wasn’t for anyone else to hear.

Jim felt something hot and intense well up in his own chest and eyes, and he had to blink a few times to hold it back. Then looked up at Jocelyn, who was giving him a curious look. Before she could say anything, he gave her a tight smile, a nod, and then... he walked away.

Sure, he and Bones had just been talking about going out for drinks, but not now. No, this was too important, and Jim wasn’t going to begrudge Bones the time he needed with his daughter, and he wasn’t going to interrupt. This was the moment for him to step aside.

Still, his breath was coming just a bit too fast as he walked over to where the cadets had dropped their duffel bags when they’d come off the shuttle. He reached for his bag from the pile, then stopped. Frowned. He counted, and realized that all of the other cadets’ bags were still there.

Curious, Jim looked up and scanned the crowd.

Liu was being hugged fiercely by a tiny woman, and was surrounded by a large group of Chinese people of various ages who could have been his extended family. Wilcox was standing with some of the cadets from her flight squad, but a middle-aged man had his arm around her shoulders, and Jim realized that the guy had the same facial features as she did - probably her father. Buhari was holding hands with another cadet, and based on body language, it was probably her boyfriend. Surrounding them, however, was a tight knot of people who were obviously family members. And finally, off to the side, Nadeau was getting thoroughly fussed-over by a woman who had to be his mother, speaking rapidly in French that Jim could hear all the way from there.

That was everyone. They all had their families there. Jim looked around for the folks from Nova Squadron, but then remembered that everyone on his team had assignments that summer, or were off-campus until next week. Nobody was there.

With a sigh, and trying not to let it get to him, Jim grabbed his duffel and slung it over his shoulder. When he turned around, however, he found himself face-to-face with Captain Pike.

“Captain Pike,” Jim greeted him formally. Other than that moment on stage, and the weekly reports, Jim hadn’t had any contact with Pike since before the debacle on Araxis. The reports were all written, not verbal, and Jim had simply reported what was going on. Pike had occasionally replied with a few questions, but really, they hadn’t spoken.

“At ease, Kirk,” Pike said gently. “In fact, here... let me take that.”

He reached for Jim’s bag, and Jim was too startled to do anything but hand it over.

“Sir?”

“You’ve had a long trip, and I’ve been stuck behind my desk all week,” he explained as he started walking, indicating for Jim to follow along. “Besides, you’ll probably never have a senior officer carry your bags again, so just go with it.”

Jim flushed. “Aye, sir.” Then, “Where are we going?”

“Just for an unofficial debriefing.” He gave Jim a sideways glance. “In other words, I owe you some time after everything that happened, and a simple commlink wouldn’t have been the same. So we’re going to grab some coffee and talk.”

“Okay... wait.” Jim stopped short and looked back at Bones. He was standing now, with Joanna in his arms, propped up on his hip, and he was smiling and crying and talking. Even Jocelyn had a pleasant expression on her face, and Joanna’s high-pitched laughter could be heard over the rest of the crowd. Jim was pretty sure he’d never seen Bones looking quite so happy, and he sighed. “Never mind. He’s got his hands full right now.”

“You’ve kept his hands full for a couple of years,” Pike said.

“I know. I shouldn’t... this is his time with his daughter. I’d be selfish if I got in the middle of that.”

“You’re not selfish. You two have been through a lot together.” Pike tipped his head towards the family reunion in-progress. “His ex contacted us about when he was returning and she explained why, and I decided to help her surprise him. Anyway, I figured he might be a bit busy with his daughter this afternoon. Seemed like a good time for us to talk.”

Jim looked up at Pike, and he suddenly realized that this was more than just an unofficial debriefing. While everyone else had their families there to greet them, Pike was making sure that he wasn’t alone.

He cleared his throat, which had gone a bit tight. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” came the soft reply. Pike started walking again, and Jim fell into step. “Your mother couldn’t be here, but she wanted to be. I sent her a vid of the ceremony. You might want to send her a comm tonight.”

“I will.”

They approached a ground car, and with a press of Pike’s thumbprint, the doors and trunk opened. He tossed the duffel bag in the trunk and indicated for Jim to get into the passenger seat. “Also, you should know that I got an interesting communique from a particular Tellarite ambassador, asking if we would assign you the Diplomatic Corps as his assistant when you graduate,” he said as he fastened his safety harness. “Care to explain?”

Jim stared at Pike in surprise until the captain cracked a grin. Jim laughed aloud as Pike pulled the car away from the parking area and toward the campus access road. As he did, Jim looked back at the area where cadets and family were still gathered, and he saw Bones.

Bones was still holding Joanna, but he was no longer talking and laughing. His eyes were fixed on the car as if he could see straight through the polarized windows at Jim, and his expression was confused and a bit lost.

Jim swallowed tightly, then said, “Wait, sir... I need to go do something.”

“I understand.” Pike’s voice was set in a tone of unending patience, and it made Jim feel as though he was standing on solid ground for the first time since he stepped off the shuttle. It was a good feeling.

Pike stopped the car, and Jim hopped out, then jogged back over to where Bones was standing, watching him intently.

“Just gonna leave without saying a word, Jim?”

“I wasn’t leaving. I mean... I was, but Pike wanted to talk to me, and... well... you were busy with your family. I figured you’d comm me later.”

Bones gave him an incredulous look, eyebrow raised ominously.

“What?”

“You’re right, Jim. I’m busy with family. And you can be such an idiot sometimes.” He looked at his daughter. “One moment, Jo.” Then he put her down, and without any warning, he grabbed Jim in a tight hug.

After a moment of surprise, Jim found himself returning the hug, patting Bones awkwardly on the back. When they finally broke apart, Bones was giving him that look again. “When I say I’m busy with family, I mean all of it.”

The obvious implication struck Jim, and he looked back and forth between Bones, Jocelyn, and Joanna, not quite sure what to say.

Then a small voice chimed in. “Are you two gonna kiss?”

With a burst of laughter, the tension was broken. Bones picked Joanna up again, tossing her into the air as she squealed, obviously having gotten over her shyness from before. Introductions were made, and Jim decided that while Jocelyn seemed pleasant enough, he couldn’t imagine Bones actually married to her. She seemed far too stuffy. Or maybe that was Bones before he’d met Jim Kirk.

Finally, Jim looked back over at the waiting car with Pike in it.

“Bones, I’ve actually got to go.”

Bones frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, you could come with us. I was going to take Jo to the beach, and then for ice cream in the Mission district.”

“I’m sure,” Jim replied with more certainty than he felt. “I really do need to talk to Pike. Besides, we see each other all the time. Half the time, you’re yelling at me to get out from underfoot. Go spend the afternoon with Joanna.” He looked at the young girl who looked eerily like Bones. “And you go have some ice cream for me.”

“I like mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

Jim smiled broadly. “Me too.” Then, to Bones, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, Jim,” came the uncertain reply.

With a wave, Jim jogged back to the car.

*********

The coffee was steaming hot with just the right amount of cream in it, and Jim closed his eyes and held the cup under his nose for a long, indulgent moment. It was one scrap of familiarity and comfort in a world that seemed strange, unbalanced, and just plain wrong. Maybe, if he kept his eyes closed, it would all disappear.

It was a ridiculous thought, of course, and when he opened his eyes, Pike was still there, sitting across the small table from him.

They were tucked into one corner of the Warming Hut on the edge of the campus, out of the line of sight of anybody who might venture in. It didn’t really matter where they were sitting, though. This afternoon, the old cafe building was quiet and almost deserted. It was a warm enough day that most people would be spending the afternoon on the beach, in the Mission District, or up in the mountains if they could get away.

Jim looked out the window and imagined the mountains beyond the skyline of the city. He wouldn’t intrude on Bones’ time with Joanna, but maybe he and Bones would still have time to rent a cabin for a couple of days before the start of the semester. Once the idea of a camping trip had been planted in his head, it had taken root. He needed to escape. He needed a distraction. He needed time to clear his head.

“Need to talk, son?”

Yeah, that too.

Jim took a slow sip of coffee before speaking. “Not really sure what to say, sir.”

“I’d start with whatever’s on your mind, and go from there.”

Pike’s tone of voice was so calm, so damned unflappable that Jim found himself laughing, but not happily.

“What... whatever’s on my mind? Sir, with all due respect, if I tell you what I’m thinking right now... I’d probably get written up.” He shook his head in dismay. “You can’t just... you can’t possibly -”

“Understand?” Pike interrupted without malice. “Can’t understand what it’s like to go through a crisis? Can’t understand what it’s like to watch a fellow officer die in front of me? Kirk, where do you think I got these stripes on my sleeve?”

Stunned at being verbally slapped across the face with the obvious, Jim slowly put down his cup of coffee, and swallowed tightly. “I didn’t mean...” Then he shook his head again, staring down at the table. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He sounded like he meant that. “Like I said... whatever is on your mind. Why do you think we’re here and not in my office? I want you to speak freely. I’ve been there myself, and yeah, I understand. The garbage it leaves in your head isn’t pretty.”

Jim looked up, realization and I’m-such-an-idiot dawning on him. Of course Pike had seen shit before. How could he have thought otherwise? He sucked in a bracing breath, then let it out slowly, nodding in acceptance. “Then you know why it’s hard to talk about it, even when you know you need to.”

“I do. And I can tell you this much: it doesn’t really get easier as you get older. Different, maybe. Time and distance are filters that change your perspective.” He laughed in a self-effacing sort of way. “Maybe age is another one.”

“Bones calls himself an old man,” Jim mused softly.

Pike snorted. “Yeah, I’ve heard him spout that bullshit. Someday, in the distant future, the simple fact that he’s actually old will catch up with him and bite him in the ass, and he’ll wonder where it came from.” He sighed and leaned his elbows heavily on the table. “You two are still so young. You’re older than most of the cadets, but you’re not old.” He paused, then sighed. “Age and experience count for a lot in Starfleet, but they’re not everything. Rank isn’t everything.”

Something in Pike’s tone had changed, and Jim sat up a bit straighter. Again, his thoughts flashed to his failures on Araxis. So many things he should have done differently. He should have known better. Inexperience gets people killed. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have -”

“Now there you go again, jumping to conclusions. That’s not where I was going.” Pike looked at him for a long moment. “Part of the problem... in more ways than I can express... is that it’s been too long since I’ve been out there in the black. Don’t you be sorry, Jim. I’m sorry. It’s been too long, and I was too complacent. As I said, age and experience count for a lot... but not everything. I forgot that every day out there is the unexpected. And I forgot why I recruited you.”

Some of the tension in Jim’s shoulders loosened up, but he was still confused. He really had no idea where Pike was going with this. “Sir?”

“Actually,” Pike continued, “it was Cadet McCoy who reminded me. He went off like a string of firecrackers that night... after the battle. Ripped into me in a way I haven’t experienced since I was an ensign.” A small grin curled the corner of his mouth.

Jim raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “If it was that spectacular, do I get to ask what you got chewed out for when you were an ensign?”

“No.” Then the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “But I’ll tell you this much: if you’re late reporting back from your first shore leave, make sure you’re not obviously hung over... and try to remember all of your uniform.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Jim said, letting the picture paint itself.

Pike nodded. “Good. And I’ll try to remember what McCoy burned into my ears that night.” He paused for a moment, looked down at his folded hands on the table in front of him, then finally looked up again. His expression was serious. “I recruited you because I felt that Starfleet had lost something, and that you had what we needed. You think outside the box. You don’t see regulations and rules as the absolute binding constraints that most officers see. And, as McCoy eloquently slurred through a hefty dose of sedatives, you’re different. That’s what saved a whole lot of people on Araxis a few weeks ago. Someday... well, I guess that someday, you’ll probably do it again.”

Jim wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I hope I don’t need to do it again anytime soon.”

Pike gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t we all? But listen - I may have recruited you on a hunch, but that’s not why you’re still here. You’re here because you’ve shown us - over and over again - that you’re worthy of that uniform. You earned every scrap of it yourself, and I want you to remember that.” He made eye contact again, and didn’t look back down.

Jim’s mouth fell open slightly, but this time, he didn’t have anything else to say to fill in.

“You don’t do anything in half-measures, and in some people’s eyes, that’s dangerous. They might be right. It can be dangerous, and you’ve seen what happens when you leap without looking and you’re wrong.”

A flash of shame welled up in Jim’s chest, but he pushed it back down. Now wasn’t the time for it.

Pike continued. “The thing is... you’re getting the experience you need to start being right more often. That’s what training is about. And you’ve got the guts to back it up. Let me ask you something. What do you think was going through my head when they described what you did?”

Jim frowned. “I... what do you mean?”

“When they told me that you willingly walked out into the middle of an urban battlefield, unarmed and without so much as a helmet for protection... what do you think was going through my head?”

Jim felt his eyebrows creep upwards. Sure, Bones had described that scenario to him objectively, but that was Bones. The guy could describe a walk around the block and give it enough colorful embellishment to decorate a Christmas tree. Hearing it from Pike, in plain language, made it so much more real. Fuck, he really did that, didn’t he? “I have no idea.”

At that, Pike actually gave a dry chuckle. “That’s funny... neither did I. It took me the better part of the past few weeks to figure it out, too.”

“Well, sir... what’s your conclusion?”

Pike smiled. “That I hope I can find enough people with guts like that to fill my crew roster when I get my ship. And, more importantly, that I was right about you. Even though you’ve fucked up - and trust me, we all have - you’ve shown me over and over again that you’ll do whatever it takes to succeed. You won’t give up, and you’ll find resources you didn’t know you had, even if all you have is yourself.”

“I just did what I had to do,” Jim answered automatically.

“Exactly,” Pike replied. “That’s all we can ever do. Some people run away from it, and some people program a collision course and set thrusters on full.”

Jim’s breath caught.

Pike nodded. “You’ve been slowly becoming that man over the past two years, and now, I know you can get there. I absolutely believe that.”

For a long moment, Jim stared back at Captain Pike before he had to look away. The man was his academic advisor, but in little, insidious ways, their relationship had evolved. It felt like something more now, and the need for Pike’s approval had slowly grown over time. He’d never cared about what any authority figures thought of him before, so wasn’t sure how to process it. Briefly, Jim wondered if this was a hint of what it was like to have a father, but he dismissed that idea. That’s not what he was looking for anyway.

Or maybe, like Bones, he didn’t need to define it. Perhaps, for once, he should just accept it for what it was, and be grateful.

With a smile that didn’t feel fake, Jim met Pike’s gaze. “Thank you, sir.”

“That’s better.” Pike leaned back and took a sip of coffee. “Now... what else is on your mind?”

Jim took a sip of his own coffee, then leaned on the table, and spoke. This time, words came more easily.

*********

Leonard’s boots knocked softly on the wooden planks of the old pier as he walked out over the water. One lone figure was waiting for him. He hadn’t called ahead, hadn’t checked to see if Jim would be there. He just knew where to find the kid.

Without a word, he removed his boots and socks, rolled up the cuffs of his jeans, and sat down on the edge of the pier, dangling his feet over the side. The fine spray of salt water was cold against his bare feet. The sensation sent a shiver up his spine, and let his feet swing above the waves.

He leaned back, propping himself on hands splayed against the weather-worn wood of the old pier. The endless sound of the sea blended and churned with the sharper noises of the city behind him, weaving the familiar symphony of San Francisco Bay. It was a remarkably clear night, with no fog and no clouds. The specter of the Golden Gate Bridge loomed in the night, bright against the darkness of the sky.

Even though the Bridge had only been there for a short span of human history, it sometimes felt as though had always been there, and always would be.

Some things never change.

He looked sideways at Jim’s profile. The details were obscured by the shadows, but his eyes were bright as he stared at the Bridge.

And even when things do change, they’re still the same.

“Knew you’d come.” Jim’s voice was so soft that it was hard to hear over the wind and waves.

“Yeah.” Then Leonard frowned. “How long have you been sitting here?”

Jim shrugged. Then he turned to Leonard with an honest smile. “How was your day with Joanna?”

Warmth flooded Leonard along with the fresh memories. “It was great. I mean... she’s still a bit shy around me. We’ve talked by vidcom plenty, but this is different. But... my God, Jim, she’s grown up so much. She’s so smart, and she’s got my eyes and mouth and nose. She’s already a curious little scientist, and she asks questions about everything.” He stopped himself, then took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

But Jim was still smiling at him. “Why sorry? You had a great time with your daughter, and I’m happy for you. So how long is she going to be in town?”

“Four days. They have to leave on Sunday morning because Joanna starts school on Monday.”

Jim nodded. “How old is she again?”

“Just turned four a couple of weeks ago. It’s incredible, Jim. I still can’t...” A splash of water against his feet sent another shiver through him. He shook his head. “I’ve missed so much. I’ve made her miss so much because I was a stubborn bastard who couldn’t get over my own pride. How the hell do I make up for that in a few weekends and vacation weeks each year?”

“Bones.”

“She deserved better. Everyone has deserved better from me, and I -”

Jim put his hand firmly on Leonard’s shoulder. “Bones.”

Leonard blinked, and refocused on Jim’s shadowy features. “Yeah?”

“Let it go.”

“But -”

“Let it go.” His voice was so steady, so sincere, that Leonard found himself breathless for a moment. “You can’t change the past. You can only tackle the present and plan for the future.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax a bit as he looked at the lights across the bay. He still had a world and a half of doubts and self-blame churning in his mind, but for now, he could put them aside. Jim was right - he couldn’t change the past.

After a moment, he ventured a question. “So... what did Pike have to say to you?”

Jim snorted. “Something about oxymorons and the impossibility of telling me to trust my instincts while also keeping my mouth shut and being a good little cadet.”

“Jim...”

But Jim held up a hand, stopping him gently. “What Pike actually told me... was that it had been too long since he’d been out in the black. That you’d reminded him, in your own unique way, why he’d recruited me. And if that’s what he really believes - that Starfleet needs people who do things differently, who think outside the box - then he’s got to put his credits where his mouth is.”

“Well, that’s for damned sure,” Leonard grumbled. “Did he apologize?”

“He did.” There was silence for another moment. “He let me talk a lot, too. He let me tell him about what had happened. Apparently, he’s been through some shit himself, so he understands. I should have known that.”

“Really now? What kind of shit?”

“Stuff that reminds us that it’s always risky out there,” Jim said in an unreadable tone. “That people are going to die. That there will be more close calls. And that it’s always different.”

A hint of memory from Leonard’s heated, drugged tirade at Captain Pike came back to haunt him. “You’re different.”

Jim gave him a curious look. “Pike said that, too.” Then he turned his gaze back out over the water. “He told me that my instincts are good. And that maybe I am becoming the man he thought I could be. Hell, right before he dropped me off at my dorm, he told me that he thinks I’m that kind of man now... someone he could trust in a crisis... as long as I keep myself out of trouble.”

“You? Stay out of trouble? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Jim chuckled dryly. “And then he said that I might be that sort of man even if I don’t keep myself out of trouble.”

Leonard found himself chuckling, too. “Now that sounds more like it.”

“I don’t know if he’s right.” Jim’s voice was so quiet, Leonard wasn’t quite sure if he’d heard correctly.

“What’s that, kid?”

“I said...” Jim swallowed thickly, and Leonard could see the silhouette of his Adam’s apple bob. “I’m not sure if Pike is right about that. He did a good job of building me up, but I know how much went wrong on Araxis. I know how much I fucked up. We almost didn’t make it, Bones. I almost let you die down there. And I couldn’t save Finney.”

“Well, I’m still alive, and I couldn’t save Hererra,” Leonard shot back. “There are lots of patients I couldn’t save over the years, too. You can’t let that break you, kid.”

“I should have done something different. I should have been able to save him. If I’d done things differently, maybe we could have done something to stop the fighting before it started.”

“Jim, you can’t fix everything and you’re not going to be able to save everyone. Someday, there will be a crisis that makes Araxis look like a schoolyard scuffle, and knowing you, you’ll be right in the middle of it. But no matter how bad it gets, you’ll keep going, because you know that nothing is a lost cause. That’s why I trust you, kid. That’s why I know you’ll make it.”

For a long moment, they were quiet. The rhythm of the waves beat out a haphazard pattern against the pilings. Salt spray tickled bare feet, and the evening wind brought a fine mist across Leonard’s face. It felt good. It made him finally feel as though he was actually light years away from the dust and grit and heat of battle in the heart of Axanar City.

At the same time, it was still so close, and so real.

“You’re someone I can trust in a crisis,” Jim said suddenly. His voice was tight and uneasy.

Leonard frowned. “Thanks, kid, but... I know that tone from you. What’s going on?”

Jim took a deep breath. “I know that what happened freaked you out. You said you were okay afterwards, but I know that you never wanted to deal with stuff like that. It’s not you. And now that you’ve got your daughter back in your life... Bones, with your record, you could get just about any assignment you want when you graduate. You could stay dirtside. I wanted you to know that I’d understand if you decided to.”

Leonard felt his mouth drop open. “Jim, I’ve done all this extra work to get a shipboard assignment. Why the hell do you think I’d change my plans now?”

“All those reasons I just listed. I figured that would be obvious,” he said dryly.

“It’s not like I... wait, let me ask you a question. Where are you going to try to get assigned?”

Jim glanced sideways at him, then looked back out over the water. “Pike told me that he wants people like me aboard his ship when he gets it next year. He’s getting the Enterprise. That’s the new flagship, Bones. And... I’m going to request it. I think I could get it.”

Leonard found himself nodding slowly. “Couldn’t imagine you anywhere less than the flagship, kid. And since you seem to think I could get just about any assignment I want, I guess I’ll request the Enterprise, too.”

This time, Jim turned his body slightly so that he could look at Leonard directly. “Bones? Are you sure? I mean... are you sure you’d be okay with that? The flagship goes on some pretty prestigious missions, but it’s far from a safe assignment. Your daughter... your life back here... are you sure?”

Leonard looked at Jim’s expression, trying to pick apart the emotions he saw there. Disbelief was somewhere in the mix, but more than that, he saw gratitude, hope, and something else that he couldn’t pin down, but it made him absolutely certain. “Yeah, kid. I’m sure.”

To his surprise, Leonard really was sure. The danger out there still terrified him on some level, but after what he’d been through, the fear no longer controlled him. He owned it. Oddly, some part of him craved it. The idea of returning to a normal, mundane life didn’t suit him anymore, and he knew that when the time came to venture into the black on his first real assignment, he’d be ready. He hadn’t felt ready this time, but he’d accomplished so much. And hell, somewhere, in the middle of the whole interplanetary debacle, he’d even managed to finish his research project.

The excitement he was starting to feel at the idea of adventure and exploration and... and yes, even danger... was addictive. That sensation of wide-eyed enthusiasm was welling up inside him again. Never mind the start of medical school - he hadn’t felt like this since he’d been a child. There was so much he hadn’t seen, and now, he was determined to see it all, even if he needed anti-anxiety medication as a backup plan. He’d do it, though, and if his hunch was right, he’d do it alongside his best friend.

Jim was searching his face for something. Then, he seemed to find it. “Thanks, Bones,” he said, nodding in satisfaction before looking back out across the bay. He was gazing at the Bridge, eyes shining in the oily glare of the city lights.

“It’s like coming home,” Jim mused. “Except I don’t mean here. Not San Francisco or the Academy. I mean... up there. Going into space. The unknown. It’s like coming home. I think... for people like us... the journey is home.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow as he took in his friend’s profile. Jim had certainly done a lot of thinking. He’d grown up a lot. And while Leonard was sure he’d stumble and backslide and mess up all over again, there was no denying that the man who sat next to him today was both the same person and an altogether different man than the guy who had sat next to him on a shuttle two years prior.

Leonard let the memory come back, and he pasted it alongside what he was seeing now.

He’d been drunk, and Jim had a broken nose. They’d been a complete mess, and both so jaded and cynical, far beyond what was justified by their years. He’d felt so old at the time. He’d felt as though his life was over, and Jim had seemed as though life wasn’t all that important to him anymore.

So much had changed.

Leonard shifted slightly and looked back out across the bay, letting the cool breeze and night sky ease his thoughts away. There was a light fog rolling in now, and he watched as the lights of the Starfleet Headquarters were slowly wrapped in the haze.

After a moment, he felt pressure and warmth against his shoulder, and knew that Jim was leaning against him, just enough to feel supportive. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

He let his feet swing back and forth over the waves, thinking about his daughter and mint chocolate-chip ice cream and duty assignments and adventures, and yet not thinking about any of them. It was okay. For the moment, he didn’t need to think about any of them. It was freeing.

Then he felt Jim shiver against his arm. He glanced to the side and saw that Jim’s expression was tight, and there was a light sheen of moisture around his eyes.

“Jim?”

Jim didn’t turn to look at him. “Yeah, Bones?”

“You okay? How are you feeling, Jim?”

For a moment, Jim didn’t move or speak. He blinked a couple of times and took a stilted breath. No tears escaped down his cheeks, but his lashes were just a bit wet in the glare of the city lights. Finally, he spoke. “Young. I feel young.”

Leonard looked up at the bright spires of the Golden Gate Bridge against the thin fog and night sky. It left him feeling so small and yet so confident at once. He realized that Jim had pinned down what he’d been feeling himself.

His whole future was ahead of him, and he didn’t need to let his past hold him back anymore. He smiled and leaned back against Jim’s arm.

“Yeah, kid. Me, too.” He smiled. “Me too.”

*********

~FIN~

Oh yeah, and Denver. Who's in Denver?

mijan — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 22:02:01 GMT

Remember my post earlier about my trip to Dallas?

Well... I'll be in Denver from May 17th to the 20th, this time on pleasure, not business. And, as we know, that's also the weekend of the Star Trek movie release.

Anyone in Denver? Anyone up for getting together? Anyone interested in seeing Star Trek together sometime that weekend? Hell, even Monday is available. :D

Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (22/23)

mijan — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 20:35:24 GMT

Title: "The Needs of the Few"
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8,817
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?

Notes: Almost over.

Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One

Chapter 22

The lights of sickbay were too bright, and Leonard’s head was throbbing as though he’d been on an all-night bender. He’d slept for almost ten hours, and it was almost two hours into alpha shift when he’d finally arrived in sickbay. His alarm hadn’t gone off, and when he’d questioned the computer as to why his alarm had been deactivated, it had politely informed him that Doctor Brex had used his medical override to turn off the alarm for him.

Sneaky bastard. At the same time, Leonard had to respect the trick. He’d probably use it in the future on patients and masochistic officers who needed to get more rest. But still, instead of making him feel rested, the extra sleep almost made him feel as though he had a hangover. The sedative had definitely knocked him out, but it wasn’t exactly the same as natural sleep. Still, it had been better than nothing, which is what he would have gotten without it.

Doctor Singh found him immediately when he arrived, catching him before he’d taken more than five steps into sickbay.

“McCoy, it’s good to see you up and about.”

As much as he didn’t feel like chatting, Singh didn’t deserve the sharp edge of his attitude. She, like everyone else on staff, was overworked and emotionally battered right now. “I’m fine,” he said in resignation. “Just sorry I’m late.”

“Why sorry? Brex ordered you to take a sedative and then he turned off your alarm.” She grinned. “He does things like that. And you probably needed it. Although it looks like you could use some more rest... or a headache pill.”

“Yeah, well... there are other things I need right now. Where’s Jim?”

At that, Singh frowned. “Actually, he was called to a debriefing with the captain just a little while ago. He’ll probably come back when he gets dismissed.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Great, just what the kid needs right now - an interrogation with the captain. Was he actually discharged?”

“Oh yes. Before alpha shift. His chart is in the computer, if you want to check. He seemed fine when I saw him. He had just been waiting here for you until the captain ordered him to report.”

Leonard cast a sideways glance at the chrono on the wall. “When did he leave?”

“Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes ago.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay to start your shift?”

On one hand, Leonard was about as far from okay as he could be. On the other hand... the echoing sounds of weapons fire and explosions in his head were less sharp this morning, and he could almost ignore the faint whiffs of dust and smoke his nose was still telling him were there. He hadn’t been injured, he’d had a full night of sleep, and he’d seen no more death and damage than anyone else around him. There was a shift to work and patients who needed him,

Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. I’m no worse off than anyone else here. I’m ready to go.” Then he grimaced slightly in annoyance. “Although if I could get some coffee, that wouldn’t hurt. Had a cup before I came down, but I can’t find my canteen...”

A shiny metal cylinder suddenly appeared in front of him, and he wrapped his fingers around the familiar curve of his coffee canteen, and looked up in surprise to see Nurse Moretti with a grin on her face. “Walsh found this in the supply room last night after you left and told me to have it full of hot coffee when you got here. She guessed you left it here when you checked out a tricorder and med kit yesterday morning before you went on the landing party.”

Leonard flipped open the lid, closed his eyes, and inhaled the aroma of fresh, hot coffee wafting up from the canteen. “Give Walsh a promotion,” he moaned and took a sip.

Singh laughed lightly at him. “Instant human: just add caffeine. I’d hate to see what would happen if they tried to take you off the stuff.”

“Fire and brimstone coming down from the sky,” Leonard deadpanned. “Forty years of darkness. Earthquakes, volcanoes... human sacrifice. Cats and dogs, living together. Mass hysteria.”

They both looked at him. Moretti blinked.

Leonard sighed. Jim and his stupid vintage movie quotes. “Never mind. Let’s get back to work.”

*********

Leonard threw himself into his work. After the first two patients, he stopped looking at the chrono and glancing at the door for Jim to come back. He couldn’t use the comm if Jim was in a briefing, so he had to wait. Besides, Jim was fine, and there were patients here in front of him who weren’t.

He checked in on Crewman Johan, who was recovering well, much to his satisfaction. He mentioned chatting with Jim, but he didn’t give any details other than to say that he’d seen the kid, and Jim was looking pretty good.

The Tellarite Ambassador was there, recovering from a minor injury from flying debris and a few broken bones. He seemed to be in good spirits, and tried to challenge Leonard to a debate. Leonard said he’d send Jim around if he could.

Cadet Liu stopped in for a follow-up, and Leonard was pleased to see that his emergency handiwork was clean and tidy, and Liu wouldn’t have any permanent muscle damage and barely any scarring on his leg. He would only need to use a crutch for another 24 hours, but that was it. And, of course, Liu asked after Jim. While Leonard ran a regen session and some nerve function tests, Liu gave him play-by-play details of what Jim had done until the moment Liu had arrived in sickbay.

By the time Leonard finally escorted Liu to the door with instructions for therapeutic stretches and follow-up care, his brain was spinning again. It all kept coming back to Jim, and goddammit, Leonard needed to stop thinking about the kid until Porter released him from the debriefing.

He pulled up the full patient roster in sickbay, and was about to check on the security guard with chest wound when Doctor Singh interrupted him.

“How are you holding up?”

Leonard shrugged. “As well as could be expected.”

“Glad to hear it.” She took a quick look at the chrono. “Everything seems under control for the moment. I just finished the second round of repair work on Thompson’s knee, and I need to go grab something to eat. Do you think you’d be able to cover for a little while?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Want anything from the mess hall?”

“Nah,” Leonard said with a casual shake of his head. He really didn’t have much of an appetite.

She gave him a sly smile. “I’ll bring you a sandwich.” And she hurried out the door before he could protest.

Grumbling to himself, Leonard started a quick round of all the patients. He didn’t want to start any major procedures without a backup doctor on hand in case something went critical on another patient, but when he got to the third bay, he stopped cold.

“Doctor McCoy,” the Kazarite Ambassador said, sounding hopeful. “I had wondered if you would return.”

Quickly, Leonard un-froze himself and set to work reviewing vitals and doing a routine scan. “I’m just here to check on you,” he said as neutrally as possible. “You’re scheduled for some more repair work on your left leg in a couple of hours. How are your pain levels?”

“My pain is negligible. But please, doctor...”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Leonard snapped, unable to hold back. And why should he hold back? A powerful telepath like this already knew exactly how angry he was. It was bad enough that he’d taken it out on Pike last night (and the embarrassment over that outburst was still burning his ears) but this person was the real target of his fury. “I’m just here to take care of you. I’ll give you the best medical care, but that’s it.”

“The medical care has been exemplary. And I know you don’t want to talk to me,” the Kazarite said mildly, “but you want to hear what I have to say.”

“Do I now?” Leonard drawled sarcastically. “So go on... tell me what else I’m thinking.”

If the Ambassador was offended by the sarcasm, he didn’t show it. “You already know your own thoughts. I wish to share mine. I am Ambassador Hai’ksha, Doctor McCoy. Terrans seem to have difficulty with smooth pronunciation, so you may call me Sha.”

“Ambassador Sha,” Leonard acknowledged uneasily. Damn, he really didn’t want to have this conversation... but the Ambassador was right. He wanted to know just what the ever-blazing hell had been going through this guy’s thick skull. Even though blind anger was easier, Jim had said that Kazarites were peaceful, and this seemed like the last thing in which a member of his species would get involved. Yeah, Leonard wanted information. But... not now, dammit!

“I wish for you to understand this, McCoy. After your ordeal, you deserve to know. The Captain can not tell you, but I can. Also, the USS Intrepid is intercepting us tomorrow morning, and I shall be going with them.”

The message was clear. If he wanted the real story, straight from the horse’s mouth, this was his only chance. There were hundreds or thousands of reasons - all of them dead or injured - for Leonard to simply give him a succinct fuck you and walk away. However, this was the guy with answers. Besides, if he didn’t get this information, Jim would be pissed at him later.

Leonard shifted his weight and centered himself. Diplomacy had never been his strong suit, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“How did you do it? No, forget that... how could you?”

The Ambassador actually flinched, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before making tentative eye contact. “You and your friend actually figured out most of it. Everything you have considered -- your friend is a very clever man, and so are you.”

Leonard let that sink in. He and Jim had been right... but about what? “There was enough evidence that the command staff here should have been able to figure it out,” Leonard said cautiously. “Did you plant ideas in their heads? Did you stop the Captain from investigating?” If that was the case, then it was no wonder Porter had apologized.

Sha closed his eyes and his face twisted in an expression that Leonard took for remorse. “I did.”

Leonard clenched his teeth together for a moment, then forced himself to relax the muscles in his shoulders. He didn’t need to work himself up into a rage. Not yet, anyway. “Doctor Brex told me that telepaths couldn't do that.”

“Betazoids can’t,” Sha explained. “But you are aware that some species of humanoids can see ultraviolet and infrared light, and some produce sound outside your range of hearing? Kazarites' telepathy works outside the range of Betazoids'.”

Leonard nodded, trying to accept this, while keeping a lid on his anger. “So... you’re some sort of super-telepath... which means you had to have known what the Axanar were planning. So... goddammit, why?” He forced himself to take a calming breath. “While I was on the planet... Jim said that he didn’t think you wanted to do this. He said that Kazarites hate violence, and that you had to have been tricked or manipulated or something. But I admit, I’m having a hard time buying into that. I don’t see how you can trick a telepath. So... yeah, tell me why. If your people are peaceful, and you’re not some violent aberration, then why the hell would you let something like this happen?”

“It is... more complicated than you understand, Doctor McCoy,” Sha said, hesitantly.

“Ain’t it always?” Leonard mumbled to himself. “So... this is what you want to tell me? I’m listening.”

Sha nodded. “Originally, I was a researcher. My family... all of them... died fifteen years ago. It was an earthquake, in a seismically stable area. Our house collapsed while I was away. I could have remained with distant relatives, but... I chose to leave Kazar. It was easier than remaining at home with the constant reminders of my losses. I was eventually sent to help rehabilitate the domesticated animal populations of Axanar after the Battle ten years ago. It was a noble and pure purpose. It helped to fill the void left by my family.” His face became wistful, and despite an appearance so very different from humans, the expression was easy to read. Leonard thought he looked shockingly young. Innocent. And wounded. “Their people were deeply linked with each other for lacking even rudimentary telepathy, and when they began to speak of their lost brethren on Araxis, I understood their sense of loss. It seemed overwhelming.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “You lived with them all that time... embedded in their society?” This changed the entire picture.

“Yes.” He closed and opened his eyes slowly. “It was a good home, amongst good people. I had a strong sense of purpose in my work, and a sense of community, despite being so far from home. In time, I was introduced by the Minister of Agriculture to other members of the House of Lords, and was eventually asked to become an Ambassador. I did not expect such a thing, but I felt a bond with these people who had nearly lost everything. Their love of kin was much like that of my people. I know what it is like to lose those who are dearest to you, and I recognized this sort of pain. I sympathized with it, and wished to help.”

Leonard had wanted to stay furious at the Kazarite, but he felt his inclination towards anger begin to fade. Nodding, he took a step closer. “But the things they asked you to do... you had to have known they were wrong.”

“I did, and yet... I thought it was for the greater good.” He looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. “Such horrific things in history have been done under that guise. I should have seen it. The Axanar... I had not understood their intentions. I was naive and foolish.”

Leonard frowned. “Okay, but I still don’t understand -- how the hell didn’t you know what they had planned?”

Sha cringed slightly and looked downwards.

“Every telepathic species’ sense works differently. My people are extremely adept telepaths, but we lack a certain range of perception that others seem to achieve easily. There is a reason why we choose to work with animals and avoid politics, Doctor McCoy. We have almost no sense of deception.”

Leonard felt his mouth fall open and stared incredulously at the Kazarite. “You really couldn’t tell?”

Sha’s eyes closed and opened slowly before he looked back up at Leonard. “I knew their plans were complicated, but I didn’t truly understand until things were already in motion. I was told that I would only be monitoring the thoughts of the other party, and reporting to the Axanar if there was any problem with the new Araxian government, or if Federation representatives did not favor their plans. At most, I would gently sway opinions to ensure that the Axanar and Araxians would reunite.”

“But it didn’t work out that way.”

Sha’s face twisted in remorse. “When Doctor Brex detected my activity, I was instructed to stop him and intercept his communiques. It was reprehensible, but I had sworn my protection to the Axanar. I knew it would cause Doctor Brex no permanent damage. The captain and other senior officers would naturally be concerned for their crew member and suspicious of the circumstances, and I was to convince them that it was an unfortunate happenstance. I argued with my Axanar friends, but in the end, they insisted it was necessary to bring their people together again without interference. And I listened to them.”

Leonard was frowning in distaste, but he could see how such a thing would happen. “By the time you realized what they were asking of you, it was too late to back out.”

Sha nodded, then shook his head. “I could have backed out at any time, McCoy, but at what price? You see... not only had I grown close to these people, but the promise of protection is a serious oath on Axanar. I couldn’t merely back out of my obligation. I felt certain that their efforts to reunite their people would be fruitful, and that all of those involved would be joyful at their reunion once the process was complete. It was a narrative of pure fiction that I wove for myself; a fanciful child’s tale, and I made myself believe it. I was kept from the mainstream Araxian population, surrounded only by Axanar, and I did not hear the thoughts of the Araxians. And so... I allowed myself to be pulled into this plan, even after I knew what was happening... until the battle began.”’

Sha’s voice broke for a moment, and Leonard found himself starting to reach for him, instinctively wanting to comfort a patient in distress. He held himself back, though. He wasn’t ready for that.

After a moment, Sha seemed to pull himself together. “When I realized the depth of what was unfolding, I told the Axanar that I was going to inform Starfleet. It had gone too far, and I wished to stop it. That’s when the second explosion at Parliament brought the roof down on us. The Axanar minister I had served for nearly five years - my colleague and friend - was crushed to death beside me... and I am not sure whether to grieve or not.”

Leonard opened his mouth, but he had no idea what to say. He wasn’t even sure he was able to process this. Such a huge disaster, all resting on the naïve hope of a generous-hearted being that everything would work out. Leonard looked at him for a moment, feeling a profound sense of pity, and wondering what sort of guilt the Ambassador must be feeling. He couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

“You were going to blow their plan... “ But then he had another thought, and he felt his eyes go wide. “Ambassador Sha, were you supposed to mess with everyone’s perceptions?”

At that, Sha smiled. A pained, tense smile. “No. Only those who I was instructed to influence. The command crew. The security staff. Any Federation Ambassadors that became suspicious.” He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again. “Any telepaths who might detect my activity or read the intentions of the Axanar. I also regret the headaches I caused the partial telepaths onboard.”

Leonard was nodding to himself, letting himself read into the Kazarite’s words. “So... not everyone. You knew that Jim and I suspected something was going on, didn't you?”

Sha's smile returned. “I did. But the Axanar do not consider those of low rank to be important, and I did not tell them about you. I had hoped... if things went too far... that there would be a way out.”

Leonard studied the Kazarite’s face. “But you couldn’t just tell someone?”

“We all wish to be brave, McCoy. We wish to do the right thing. But I? I am a coward. I left when my family died, even though my extended family begged me to stay. I hid in my work. And once I’d found a life in which to hide, I was afraid to lose it. How could I defy the Axanar? Protection is lauded by the their people. but if you fail once protection is promised? Such shame, McCoy. And I was part of their society for so long...” His voice trailed off.

Feeling unsteady on his feet, Leonard took a couple of awkward steps and leaned heavily against a supply cabinet. “We all learn lessons the hard way, don’t we?” he said roughly.

“We do,” came Sha’s soft reply. “But I am still alive, and can go home to my family once again... if they will have me. And so can you. But I will never be able to fix the evils that have been suffered due to my actions today. I would beg your forgiveness, McCoy.”

“I...” He looked back at the Kazarite’s pleading eyes. The last thing he could do was offer a false forgiveness here. “I don’t know if I can do that yet... because I haven’t even learned to forgive myself for the shit I’ve done. But... I can tell you that I understand.”

Sha nodded in gratitude. “That is more than I should hope to expect. Thank you, Doctor McCoy.”

“Yeah... you’re... uh... welcome.” He glanced down at the PADD in his hand and scrolled through Sha’s chart. “It says you folks don’t sleep much except when you’re injured, but that you’re pretty good at self-healing. So... we’ve got you scheduled for that repair work in a couple of hours. Try to get some sleep, and hit your call button if you need anything.”

Sha merely nodded again, and closed his eyes without another word. It was damned unnerving.

Leonard took a few steps backwards and all but stumbled out of the Kazarite’s treatment bay. His head was buzzing with everything he’d just heard. He’d wanted to stay angry... he’d needed someone to be angry at. But now, he had nothing except the vague specter of the Axanar, and that was so broad, so nameless... it just left him feeling empty.

And the knowledge that the Kazarite had hoped that he and Jim, of all people, would blow the plan? Maybe he should feel good about that, but he just felt used.

Empty and used.

And utterly alone.

“McCoy? Are you okay?”

Leonard blinked a few times and realized he was standing in the middle of sickbay, staring blankly past Doctor Singh, who was looking at him with unmasked concern. “I... yeah, sorry. Just had a bit of a chat with one of the patients.”

“The Kazarite, huh?”

“Gee, how’d you guess?”

“I didn’t,” she said plainly. “ I just saw you walk out of his treatment bay. When we changed out shifts, Brex mentioned that the Ambassador had wanted to speak to you.”

“Something like that,” Leonard mumbled.

Singh blew out an exasperated breath and held out a small bag. “Well, I won’t pry, but in the meantime, whether or not he put you off your appetite, you’re running on fumes. I don’t have to scan you to see that. So have yourself a sandwich and take a break.”

He accepted the bag and sniffed it. The scent of toasted bread met his nose, and despite his complete lack of an appetite, he had to appreciate the offer. “Thank you. I’m not really hungry... but I didn’t eat much for breakfast, so maybe I’ll stop around noon for a bite.”

Singh frowned. “It’s already 1220 hours.”

“What?” Leonard turned his head towards the wall chrono so fast that his neck twinged, making his eyes water. He blinked a few times. Singh was right. It was well past lunchtime.

“McCoy... I ran into Ankewicz down in the mess hall. He went off-duty at midnight last night, and he’s had some rest now. He said he could come in earlier if we needed him. How about I call him in, and you go off-duty for a while, eat something, and come back when you’re feeling better.”

“I’m feeling fine,” Leonard grumbled.

“And I’m a Klingon diplomat.” She fixed him with an unwavering stare.

“Okay.” He crinkled the lunch bag in his hand. “I’ll be back in 30 minutes.”

“I hope not,” she said mildly. “Come back when you’re ready, and not a moment sooner.”

Leonard nodded stiffly and walked out of sickbay without a single look back. The thing that bothered him most is that she was right, and he really wasn’t okay. He’d seen and heard too much in the past twenty-four hours, and the conversation with the Kazarite felt like the last straw. And for that matter, he still hadn’t talked to Jim.

Leonard stopped so suddenly in the middle of the hallway that he almost tripped.

It was after noon already, so there was no way Jim was still in the debriefing. He’d been ordered off-duty, so after the debriefing, they should have released him. He hadn’t come back to sickbay yet. Scowling, Leonard hurried over to the nearest computer terminal. “Computer... location of Cadet Kirk.”

“Cadet Kirk is in Cargo Bay Two.”

Leonard frowned. “A cargo bay? Who else is in there?”

“Cadet Kirk is the only person in Cargo Bay Two.”

“What the hell is he doing in there?” Leonard mused under his breath.

“The purpose of Cadet Kirk’s presence in Cargo Bay Two is unknown.”

“Shut up,” Leonard snapped off-handedly. He was already putting the pieces together. He knew Jim Kirk. Something must have been said in the debriefing, or Jim had heard or seen something that had been that little bit too much - something about straws and camels - and the kid had gone off to try to put his head back together. So after everything he’d gone through, Jim was alone. Leonard just wasn’t going to let him stay that way.

With a determined nod, Leonard hurried to the nearest turbolift and slipped inside. “Cargo Bay Two.”

*********

The instant he walked into the cargo bay, Leonard knew exactly why Jim had taken refuge there. The lights were subdued, and the only sound was the low thrum of the impulse engines keeping the ship in orbit. Silence and shadows. Peace and tranquility... or the only thing on this ship that came close. There was no reason for any of the crew to come to the cargo bay right now, so it was possibly the only place on the ship where Jim was guaranteed the solace he was probably seeking.

Somehow, Leonard guessed that Jim wouldn’t mind if he interrupted.

He was just about to call out when he heard Jim’s voice echo through the cavernous room.

“Up here, Bones.”

It took Leonard a moment of looking until he spotted a shadow on what looked like a platform or catwalk on the far wall. “Dammit, Jim,” he said softly, with more affection than malice.

“I’ll come down.”

“No,” Leonard said quickly. “I’ll be right up.”

“You hate heights.” Jim’s voice was both surprised and amused.

“I hate space, too, and look where I am. So sit your ass down and stay put.”

Leonard crossed the cargo bay and found the base of the ladder. Sure, he could let Jim climb down, but he was coming to find the kid, so he was going the whole way. He was still carrying the sandwich bag, so he held the bag in his teeth as he grabbed the ladder and hauled himself up.

It was dark and shadowy on the platform, but he could see the amused look on Jim’s face clearly enough.

“Here... lemme get that for you, Bones.” Jim took the bag out of his mouth with one hand, and reached out another to finish pulling Leonard through the opening in the platform railing. “What’s in the bag?”

Leonard crawled away from the edge of the platform and leaned back against the wall with a tired groan, more for melodrama than anything. “It’s a sandwich. Doctor Singh brought it for me from the mess hall, but...” He shot Jim a look. “You eaten yet today?”

Jim shrugged. “My stomach still aches a bit. It’s not bad, but I’m not really hungry.” He shifted around and settled himself next to Leonard, leaning his back against the wall, bringing his knees up to rest his hands on them.

Leonard resisted the urge to start questioning Jim about his injury. He had so many other things he wanted to ask and tell and discuss. God damn it, it felt like there was a blockade in his brain, holding back everything he’d been meaning to say and wanting to ask, and if he let it out all at once, he’d get trampled in his own thoughts and bring Jim down with him. Instead, he took a deep breath and started with the easiest thing. “What have you been doing all day?”

Jim shrugged. “Just the debriefing. Then I came here. Kinda wish I’d gone to my quarters to get my PADD so I could read a bit, but it didn’t seem worth going back.”

“You didn’t come back to sickbay after the debriefing, either,” Leonard said neutrally.

“They said I was discharged, so I didn’t think I had to.” Jim was carefully looking everywhere but at him, but Leonard didn’t need that tell to know it was bullshit.

“I never said you had to. But Doctor Singh said you’d been waiting for me before they called you to the debriefing. She guessed you planned to come back.” He shifted so his body was turned more towards Jim. “So what happened in there?”

For the briefest instant, Leonard swore he saw Jim’s face clench with emotion before the kid painted over it with a slow shake of his head and a brittle laugh. “It was a debriefing. We talked about the shit that happened down on the surface. I’m sure you remember that it was a bit of a mess, so the briefing wasn’t exactly a round of campfire stories.”

“I didn’t expect that it would be. Mine wasn’t exactly a cakewalk.”

“Yeah,” Jim’s voice was dry and rough. “They asked me about Lieutenant Finney.”

“Wha... wait, Finney?” His eyes went a bit wider. “You were fresh out of sickbay and they interrogated you about the death of your commanding officer?”

“It’s okay.” Jim’s voice was softer now. “They needed to. It’s protocol. Unless there are extenuating circumstances, they need statements from everyone involved or witnessing the death of an officer or crewman within twenty-four hours.”

“I’ll show them a set of goddamned extenuating circumstances, those insensitive, bull-headed -”

“It’s fine, Bones. It’s done. I don’t have to do it later.” Jim looked as though he was about to keep talking, but he snapped his mouth shut and stared off into the shadows. Leonard wasn’t sure what to say, so he waited. Finally, Jim spoke again, more quietly this time.

“I tried not to think about it while I was still on the surface,” Jim said, talking more to the shadows than to Leonard. “But... after Finney died, while we were waiting for rescue, I kept thinking... that he made the wrong call. That he put everyone at risk. He was injured, and he couldn’t have been thinking clearly, but no matter the reason, he made the wrong call. I just didn’t want to let myself think like that. He was my leader... and he’d just died in front of me. I couldn’t let myself blame him.”

Leonard wanted to say something, but what?

Jim’s eyes had focused at some point in the distance. It was the look he got when he was putting things together. “While I was down there, it didn’t matter if his order had been right or wrong. Just act, don’t think. We followed the order, and when it all went to hell, we just kept doing what we needed to do to survive. I was a cadet, following protocols. It took the weight off my shoulders, and that’s supposed to be reassuring. But Bones?” His eyes focused back on Leonard, sharp and clear, and shining just a little bit in the shadows of the cargo bay. “It wasn’t.”

“Wasn’t...what?”

“Reassuring. To just let someone else make the call when I knew it was wrong. That’s one of the things we learn to do when we’re subordinates - let someone else make the call, and we just execute the orders.” His hands suddenly clenched into fists on his knees. “I’ve always trusted my gut instinct, and distrusted anyone who ever told me to put that aside and listen to them. Maybe it’s because all the people I’ve ever met who had absolute authority either tried to beat the snot out of me, or tried to kill me flat out.”

Jim sucked in a sharp breath at the same time as Leonard felt the air go a bit scarce in his lungs. It was true - anyone with absolute authority of Jim in his youth had abused the position. It had taken two years of Academy training and working under competent leaders for Jim to begin trusting his superiors... and now this.

“And I knew I should have listened to myself,” Jim finally continued. “And so when they asked me about Finney’s orders in the debriefing... I told them exactly what had happened.”

Leonard let that sink in, and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a debriefing?”

Jim shrugged. “Yeah, but we always have choices in what we say. At the end of the day, I left a shadow on the record of a dead man. He was a good officer, and a good leader. He just made a mistake.”

“A mistake that could have gotten people killed if you hadn’t stepped up.”

“It got him killed. I just... hope they focus on the good things he did in his career instead of what I said.”

“Jim... you’re one of those people who will say what needs to be said, even if the truth is ugly. Some people can’t handle that. The report has the truth on it. The rest will sort itself out.”

“Yeah,” Jim said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it. The both fell silent for a moment, and Jim looked away again. Finally, he said, “So how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” The words came automatically.

Jim snorted and shook his head. “You were pretty freaked out the last time I saw you. And Bones? You’re shaking, and I don’t think it’s the heights. So now that you’ve interrogated me, it’s your turn. Are you okay? What happened?”

Leonard tilted his head, not in concession, but because shrugging would take too much effort. “I got pulled into a debriefing right after we got back to the ship. After that, I came back to sickbay, but they had you out cold. Doctor Brex talked to me, and ordered me to take a sedative. I got enough sleep. Then I came back to sickbay this morning. You weren’t there, so I worked on patients all morning. Oh, and I talked to the Kazarite Ambassador. You were right about him. Pretty much about everything. The Axanar pressured him into it, he didn’t want to, and yeah, he manipulated the bridge crew. But anyway, I don’t really want to talk about it. And then I came up here to find you.”

Jim looked at him incredulously. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Shit, Jim, what do you want me to say! That’s what happened! You know everything else.”

“I want to know if you’re okay, you asshole.”

“Goddammit, Jim, I’m fine. See?” He held out his arms. “No gaping wounds, no panic attacks.”

Jim, jackass that he was, actually rolled his eyes in mock impatience, then let out a low sigh. “The captain told me a bit about your report after I finished mine. Not much, but enough that I could read between the lines.”

“What lines, kid? I watched people dying and dead for reasons that only make sense if you can accept the fact that the Axanar had started all that political horse shit in the first place. I saw a civilization push itself to the blood-spattered brink. And... goddammit, Jim, I saw you almost sacrifice yourself! Those aren’t lines, Jim!” He could feel his breath coming hot and tight in his chest, and he had to force himself to breathe more evenly.

Jim, however, was looking at him almost sadly. “That’s what I mean.” He sighed. “I almost went to find you and drag you off-duty, but I knew you’d come find me when you were ready.”

“Oh? How’d you know that, kid?”

Jim gave him an enigmatic smile. “Because I’ve known you for two years, and you always come to find me. But mostly...” His smile faded into seriousness. “I saw your face yesterday, right before I left the room in the storage building.”

In a flash, the image that Leonard had been trying to forget all day came rushing back to him.

The look on his face... oh God, the look on his face...

Echoes of words shrouded in a drug-induced haze, and damn, had Leonard really said all that to a captain? Leonard pushed it out of his mind and tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry even for that. He let his jaw hang loosely, and tried to remember to breathe. “Jim, I...”

Jim stopped him by shaking his head. “Listen, I... damn, how do I say this?”

“In Standard would be easiest,” Bones said thinly. “But I’ve heard you speak about five other languages.”

Jim shot him an utterly bemused look. “Six. Asshole.” His expression sobered. “Listen... you saved my life once, but even before that... I’ve never had someone I could rely on like this, and when I saw you sitting there, in that room, watching me leave...”

But Leonard cut him off. “Jim, the look on your face just about broke me. You looked like... goddammit, you looked like a man being frog-marched to his own funeral, and that you were okay with it!”

Jim grabbed his arm, and there was something desperate in his eyes. “I was okay with it! The only thing I wasn’t okay with... was the fact that you were looking at me like I’d already died.”

“Jim...”

But Jim was shaking his head slowly, sadly, and he let go of Leonard’s arm and sank back heavily against the wall. “I didn’t want you to stay. I didn’t want to go out there thinking that if I failed, you were going to die with the rest of them. But knowing why you were staying? God, Bones.” He leaned his head into his hands. “I almost changed my mind when I saw the way you were looking at me.”

Leonard swallowed against the painful dryness in his throat. “But you knew that it was the only chance those people had.”

“Yeah,” came Jim’s answer in a rough whisper. “I had to. But you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did,” Leonard growled softly.

Jim snorted at him. “I don’t even think you were worried about yourself and the fact that you might have died down there. Actually, I’m sure you weren’t thinking about that at all. Hyper-focusing on me so you didn’t have to worry about yourself.”

“Well, I’m kinda good at focusing on other people’s shit so I don’t have to think about my own.”

Jim was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. “Bones, you’ve spent the entire time wondering if I was okay, but nobody asked you, did they? Did anyone really check on you after all this?”

“Well, Doctor Brex did. But I can’t exactly wallow in my own bullshit when there are patients who need help.”

“Well, I’m glad Brex looked after you, but I’m not just talking about here and now. I mean ever. ”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything right now. I’m fine, and that’s not the point, Jim. You have to -”

“Bones.” Jim was looking at him, and his eyes went a bit wider. “Nobody ever asked you if you were okay.” It wasn’t a question. “You keep asking everyone else how they’re feeling, and you worry yourself sick over people... yeah, including me... but who ever looked after you? Who asked how you were feeling?”

Bones felt an uncomfortable twist in his gut. “Jim, it’s my job to ask how other people are feeling. I’m a doctor. It’s what I do.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need anyone to look after you.” He shook his head with an expression of disbelief. “Fuck, I’m an asshole. I should have stopped into sickbay anyway. You always look after everyone else, and I just expected you to come find me, but I should have found you this time. I’ll bet your ex didn’t ask you if you were okay when you were up to your eyeballs in dealing with everyone else’s problems. She didn’t ask if you were okay when you were staying up all night, every night, for months, trying to cure your father... did she?”

“That’s not what this is about...” But Leonard’s words lost their momentum on their own.

Jim nodded at him slowly. “You worried about walking away from people... that you didn’t put them first... but I don’t think anyone ever put you first either. You said you took them for granted, but they took you for granted.” He sounded like he was on the verge of saying something, and couldn’t quite tip over that edge.

“Jim?”

Jim squared his shoulders. “Bones... I know you don’t think sincerity is one of my strong suits, but... I have never taken you for granted. I just... I need you to know that.”

Leonard stared at Jim through the shadows in disbelief. He knew that, of course. Jim had said it dozens or hundreds of times without ever actually saying it. It’s how they were. It was that bizarre sort of friendship that was completely reliable and you knew it would always be there, but you couldn’t put it aside or let it sit idly. Or maybe that was just the way Jim was. Because, even though the kid might be a certifiable asshole sometimes, there was something so unique about him that on the rare occasion when Leonard let himself think about it, it was enough to make his head spin.

Slowly, feeling detached from his body at the same time as he’d never felt more completely in-the-present, Leonard reached out and grasped Jim’s forearm. “Me too, Jim. I... goddammit.” In one rapid movement, before he could talk himself out of it like the emotionally stunted cynical old man that he pretended to be, he pulled Jim into a fierce hug. He held fast and tight, refusing to feel awkward, and squeezing Jim as though anything less of a grip would let the kid be swept away by squads of militants and explosions and weapons fire and all Leonard would have left would be the dead husk of a body that had once been his best friend.

And Jim held him. “I know, Bones. I know.”

After a moment - seconds or minutes, Leonard wasn’t quite sure - they broke apart at the same time. In silence, they sat back against the wall, shoulder pressing against shoulder, watching the shadows and listening to the hum of the impulse engines.

Whatever else had happened, whatever hell they’d gone through, and however much of a jackass Jim Kirk would always be, it was okay. Somehow, for that moment, things were okay. Maybe later, Leonard would break down, but for now, he was fine. He really was.

Then Jim cleared his throat. “Uh... Bones? By the way... what the hell did you say to Captain Pike?”

Leonard inhaled so fast he almost choked on the air in his lungs. He hadn’t thought about it all day... he’d almost forgotten... in fact, he had forgotten most of what he’d said to Pike. He remembered being pretty damned pissed, and blaming the guy for not doing something to stop the disaster from unravelling. He’d been upset and furious and sad and... dizzy...

“Seriously, what the hell did you say to Pike?”

Leonard snorted with delirious amusement. Whatever he’d said, he knew that he’d mouthed off to one of the most powerful people at the Academy, and probably the most influential captain in the ‘fleet. He’d been drugged and messed up and... he was laughing now. Shaking with inappropriate mirth. “Gave him a piece of my damn mind,” he choked out between wheezy laughs. “Don’t much remember what I said... I was kinda drugged to the gills at the time - sedative and all - but... oh shit. Oh shit.”

He wiped his arm roughly across his face, scrubbing away the half-assed tears that were leaking from his eyes and forcing him to mentally sober up. “I’m sorry.... sorry, Jim. I just... I’d almost forgotten about it. And no, I don’t remember much of what I said.”

Jim was looking at him warily, as if expecting him to go crazy at any moment. “Well, whatever you said, Bones... it must have made an impact.”

Leonard’s emotional sobriety came back full-force. “Wait, when did you talk to him?”

“He commed in to my debriefing,” Jim said plainly, as though it was obvious. “When the hell did you talk to him? Because there’s no way you were drugged on a sedative and going off on the captain at an official debriefing... did you?”

Leonard raised an eyebrow, considering the possibility. “You know, I could see it happening. But no, kid. He commed me in my quarters last night. I was already in bed when the comm alert sounded.” He tilted his head. “And... uh... I’m kinda lucky I’m not in the brig right now, because insubordination doesn’t even begin to describe it. I... uh... kinda blamed him for the whole mess... for not listening to you and investigating more from his end.”

Jim nodded as though he’d been expecting that. “You and I are really good at spending our brownie points as fast as we earn them.”

Leonard snored. “You can say that again.” He gave Jim a curious look. “What did he say to you?”

Jim’s mouth quirked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Something about not being able to leave me alone for a minute, and how I need to stop ending up in the infirmary before I give you an aneurysm.”

“Jim...”

But Jim shook his head. “He didn’t say much, actually. He was on the comm link during the entire debriefing, but he just listened the whole time. Asked a couple of questions, but... he kept looking at me, and I’ve never seen that look on him. And as we were wrapping up, he said that he was sorry he hadn’t given me better advice... and that I did the best I could under the circumstances.”

“Well, that’s not exactly helpful,” Leonard said, frowning. “And that was it?”

Jim shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then he smirked. “He also said that you were right, and he’s not writing you up this time, but you’d better learn to control yourself or not accept comm calls when you’re on sedatives.”

“Yeah, I’ll remember that,” Leonard said dryly.

“Hey, we’re both still cadets. We get some leeway for our youth and inexperience.” He was still smirking, but then the smirk faded. “I have no way to know if there will ever be another reason for Pike, or anyone, to go out on a limb and trust me until I get some real experience and rank.”

“And what the hell was the last twenty-four hours? Hell, if that’s not real experience, I’m going AWOL before Starfleet gets me killed in some new and exciting way.”

Jim actually laughed lightly. “Disease and danger, right, Bones?”

“Something like that, kid.”

Jim nodded, and was silent for another moment. “You know... maybe I really should try to stay out of trouble for a while.”

“You? Stay out of trouble? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Jim gave a silent chuckle, then shook his head. “It’s not just that. It’s... I want them to trust me. I thought I wanted that before, but... after Finney died, everyone who was left... they all looked at me and asked me what to do next. They trusted me, Bones. And God, I want to be worthy of that sort of trust. I want to give Pike a reason to believe he made the right decision in giving me a chance. Well... more than one chance, really.”

The sudden weight of the conversation hit Leonard out of nowhere. “Jim...”

But Jim kept pushing forward. “When Pike recruited me, he told me that I’m my father’s son, and maybe I am. I did finally figure out what my father was thinking when he set the collision course. And maybe I succeeded where I’d convinced myself that he’d failed, but I think that was the wrong question in the first place.”

Leonard’s heartbeat was feeling a bit too heavy in his chest. “What’s the right question?”

Jim gave him a bittersweet smile. “Did I do it for the right reasons?”

“And did you?”

For a moment, Jim said nothing, but then he stood. Confused, Leonard scrambled to stand after him, and for the first time, noticed that they had been sitting beneath a viewport the entire time.

From the steep angle below, it had been seemed like nothing but a black panel. As he stood, however, a bright curve filled the bottom of the view - a wash of green, blue, and golden brown. Araxis.

Jim was leaning on the ledge at the bottom of the viewport, looking for all the world like a little boy leaning on a window sill. It was a startling image, in stark contrast to everything Leonard had seen yesterday. The ledge was wide enough for two, so Leonard stepped forward and leaned down on the ledge himself, looking out over the breathtaking view of the planet. He waited in silence until Jim finally spoke.

“They’re alive down there,” Jim said softly, staring out the viewport at the planet below. “Maybe not everyone, but as many as we could have saved. And Johan made it back alive. We made it back alive.” He turned his head so he was looking at Leonard. His face was lit in eerie relief by the blue-green light of the planet shining through the viewport. “I think I did it for the right reasons.”

Leonard licked his own dry lips and nodded. “I think you did, too.”

Jim kept looking at him. “Bones? Can you handle all this? Space? Starfleet?”

Leonard frowned. “Why the hell would you ask me that now, kid? I’m here, ain’t I?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

As Jim kept looking at him, and Araxis turned serenely beneath them, Leonard felt his stomach spin just a bit itself. Not once during the entire crisis had Leonard wished he hadn’t signed up. He hadn’t lamented his decision or wished he’d taken a dirtside internship. It had been hell, but he didn’t regret a moment of it. And now, looking at Jim’s face, which bore a remarkable echo of the expression he’d worn before leaving the room where they’d been held hostage, Leonard knew that he couldn’t wish he’d been anywhere else.

“Yeah, Jim... I can handle it.”

Jim was smiling back at him, with no trace of irony. “I knew that. I just wanted to make sure you did.”

Leonard snorted. “Brat.”

The smile turned mischievous. “You betcha.” Then he sobered again. “No regrets?”

Leonard glanced out the window, then back at Jim. “There are always regrets, kid. Part of the human condition, as far as I can see. But this?” He looked around at the cavernous shadows of the cargo bay, then again out through the viewport. “I don’t regret this, Jim. Not at all.”

Jim nodded slowly. “Good.” He settled himself against the viewport frame again. The glow from the planet outlined his face, and Leonard’s breath caught. There was something so pure and honest about the image... so striking about the look of hope and and excitement and anticipation on the face of a person who had seen so many horrors... it made Leonard want to believe that no matter how bad things got, there was always something beautiful to see, something to hope for, something worth saving.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Leonard re-settled himself against the viewport, too. His arm pressed against Jim’s arm - something warm and solid in a world of cold uncertainty. He smiled. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

*********

To Chapter 23

Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (21/23)

mijan — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 05:12:09 GMT

Title: "The Needs of the Few"
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6,000
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.
Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?

Notes: I am the world's biggest asshole. No, seriously, I am. I was so focused on just getting the damned fic posted that I forgot one of the most important things.

I forgot to thank my betas.

We hereby interrupt this chapter for me to slap myself upside the head and properly thank my betas, without whom, I would have dissolved into a hopeless mess, and this fic would not have been realized. My incredible betas are killpurakat and nightshadow_t2. My test reader, mga1999, has been a wonderful source of support and encouragement. I also had invaluable feedback and input from spacehawk and gone_ashore. And finally, I need to thank my Trophy Wife, fiona_fawkes, who is the Bones to my Jim, and my clingy cephalopod of love.

And now, on with the story...

Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

Chapter 21

It only took a moment of disorientation for Jim to figure out where he was as he oozed back to consciousness. The soft sounds of voices mingling with the beeping of medical devices, the slight incline of a biobed beneath him, and the muted but distinct pain in his gut told him that he was in sickbay. A few seconds later, he remembered why he was there. All of it. He held back a groan at the memory as he blinked his eyes and waited for the world to come into focus around him.

“Computer -” His voice came out as a croak. Swallowing tightly and clearing his throat, he tried again. “Computer, what time is it?”

“Ship’s time is 0612 hours.”

Jim felt a flash of irritation. It was early morning, which meant they’d kept him asleep overnight. There was no way in hell he would have slept through everything if it hadn’t been drug-induced, so that meant they had him on sedatives the whole time. However, his irritation quickly morphed into acceptance, and then, to his surprise, a perverse sense of gratitude. Waking up the day after that fiasco, instead of later that evening, seemed less harsh... less immediate. Somehow, it felt like he could breathe again.

For now, sickbay was quiet, the light was subdued, and his biobed was surrounded by dull beige partition panels, giving him privacy. The space around the bed was small, and held only a display panel, some idle pieces of equipment, and a conspicuously empty chair.

He felt a split-second of surprise and an odd sense of emptiness as he realized he was alone, but he swallowed it back. It wasn’t even alpha shift yet, there were probably a ton of other patients, and he had no right to expect anyone to be there. Besides, if the chair was empty, it meant that someone had been able to convince Bones to take care of himself, and maybe the guy had even gotten some sleep in a real bed. It had probably taken a fair bit of cajoling. He imagined what Bones’ face must have looked like when the other doctor had kicked him out of sickbay for the night, and couldn’t quite stifle a small grin. Yeah, maybe it was for the best that Bones wasn’t there.

Still, it felt a bit strange waking up alone, and it surprised him a bit that nobody else was there to hover over him while he woke up. He could hear people shuffling around and talking softly beyond the partitions around his bed. Someone would come in eventually, but for now, he had a moment to breathe, and take stock of himself.

Other than the mild ache in his gut, he actually felt pretty good. There was a small patch of gauze taped to the back of his hand, but he didn’t seem to have anything attached to him. He tugged down the sheets and looked at his abdomen. Where there had been an ugly wound yesterday afternoon, there was a only thin, slightly crooked, light pink line, covered by a shiny layer of dermaseal. It seemed like a laughably small thing after everything that had happened. Nothing more than a scratch after having been so close to the brink. If modern medicine had anything to say about it, even that scar would fade and eventually disappear, leaving a memory without a mark.

“How are you feeling?”

Jim startled hard enough to make his gut twinge, and he quickly pulled the sheets back over his stomach as he looked up to see a doctor that he recognized. “I... I’m fine, uh, Doctor... Brex?”

“Yes,” the man confirmed with a nod as he stepped the rest of the way into the small treatment bay. “You know... your medical record has a notation that you metabolize sedatives quickly, but I didn’t expect you to wake up for at least another twenty minutes.”

Jim blinked, trying to process what the guy was saying, and realizing that he was still a bit hazy and slow on the uptake. “Bones told me I have a crazy metabolism,” he mumbled absently. “How’s Bo- McCoy?”

Brex smiled. “Asleep, I’d wager. I gave him a pretty strong sedative last night when I kicked him out of sickbay.”

Jim nodded, thinking again of the empty chair next to the bed, but how he was glad that Bones had gotten some rest. “Good. He needed that.”

“Yes, he did. He’s scheduled for alpha shift, but with the dose I gave him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he oversleeps.”

“Well, that would be good for him, too,” Jim said flatly. “The guy never gets enough sleep.”

“You know your friend pretty well... even when you should have been focusing on yourself. So that begs the question... what about you?”

The question was so simple, so innocuous, that Jim almost laughed it off, but he caught himself. “What about me?”

Brex didn’t say anything for a moment as he finished his scan and set aside the device before looking directly at Jim. “How are you doing?”

Jim frowned. “Well... my gut doesn’t hurt much anymore, and nothing else is really standing out. I’m a bit achy overall, but I think that’s from when the first explosion tossed me backwards, so... what?”

“I’m glad your body is physically better, but that’s not really what I was asking.”

Jim scrunched his head down. He knew that. He just had no idea how to answer it. Hell, he’d just barely woken up. “I... don’t really know how I’m doing yet. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“Fair enough. But for now, let’s get you up and walking, check how your body is responding, and get you discharged.”

Jim felt his eyes widen. “You’re letting me out of here already?”

Brex smiled again. “Unless you like being stuck in sickbay.”

Jim shook his head emphatically.

“Good. Here, let me help you sit up.”

A moment later, Jim was on his feet, with Brex at his elbow, walking out into the main area of sickbay. He felt pretty good, and walking didn’t make anything hurt more. Brex led him to a small side room with some light equipment - a physical therapy area - and started directing him through some very gentle movements and stretches.

“It’s fine,” Jim said, pleased with himself as they walked back to his treatment bay. He could tell that there had been an injury, but the ache was mild and easily ignored. “Feels great.”

Brex was reaching into a cabinet, and he pulled out a clean set of Jim’s undergarments and one of his uniforms. Someone must have retrieved them from his quarters. “Good to know. Just remember that you’re still on some fairly good pain medication, so don’t get carried away. I’m discharging you, not putting you back on duty.” As Jim opened his mouth to protest, Brex dropped his clothes into his outstretched hands and cut him off. “You’re off-duty for the next twenty-four hours, and light duty for four days after that. I’m sending you out with some pain pills, and I expect you to take them. Then, be sure to come in daily for follow-ups until you’re cleared for full duty. No argument.”

“But I’m fine.” Hell, he just wanted to get back to duty. He’d even take the pain pills without complaint. If he could just get back to work, he wouldn’t have to over-think. Routine. He just wanted some routine right now, before he started getting caught up in his head.

Brex was giving him a concerned look. “McCoy is right about you.”

Jim glared, then huffed. “He usually is.” He put his clothes on the biobed and shook out the pants before pulling them on.

“Your injury is healing well, and you’ll be physically fine with proper rest... but any normal sentient being needs time to process something like this.”

“Who said I was normal?” Jim muttered to himself.

Brex sighed. “I’m not even going to justify that with an explanation. So now that you’re more awake, tell me how you’re really doing.”

Jim gritted his teeth. No use lying to a telepath. “I feel like I should be happy right now. I mean... everything worked out. We should be congratulating ourselves on a successful mission. We stopped the bomb. We solved the mystery in time. We won. The Araxians won. We got out alive...” His voice trailed off, and he felt his throat tighten around the next few words before he managed to choke them out.

“But...?” Brex prompted him.

“Almost everyone got out alive.”

“Your lieutenant.”

Jim nodded, suddenly fixated on the one thing that had gone so wrong... so horribly, irreversibly wrong. His undershirt was blurry in front of him as he grabbed at it and pulled it roughly over his head.

“It’s backwards,” Brex said softly.

Jim ignored the hot flush in his cheeks as he pulled the shirt off, turned it around, and saw that he had indeed put it on backwards. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I understand.” There was no pressure in Brex’s voice.

Jim blinked a few times, then took his time pulling on his uniform shirt, double checking to make sure it was facing forward. Then... there was nothing else to do, and Jim realized he was staring blankly at the empty surface of the biobed in front of him. “Did they get Lieutenant Finney’s body back from the surface?”

If Brex was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. “We did. His body is in the mortuary.”

Jim swallowed, feeling nauseous and cold. He didn’t really know why he was saying this, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I want to see him.”

Brex looked at him, not in surprise or dismay, but in sadness. “I can’t let you do that. We still need to do a post-mortem, and either way, that’s not what you need to see right now.”

A flash of indignation lit through him. How the hell did this doctor know what was best for him? Telepath or not, Brex didn’t know him. But before Jim could let his indignation lead to heated words he’d regret later, Brex continued. “But I’ve got something else for you. I’m sure McCoy will be getting down here soon, so if you stick around, it might be the best way to catch him. And in the meantime... there’s someone else in sickbay who you might want to see.”

Jim felt his heart thud unevenly for a moment. “Who?”

He smiled. “Follow me.”

Jim trailed Doctor Brex across sickbay, holding his confusion in silence until he was waved into one of the treatment areas. His eyes went wide at the sight of a familiar face, dark skin contrasting white sheets in stark relief. “Johan?”

The man on the biobed stirred slightly. His eyes were still closed, but his hands weren’t completely slack as they would be in sleep.

“He’ll be waking up soon, and I’m sure he’d appreciate some company,” Brex said softly from behind him.

Jim nodded blankly. Of course he wanted to stick around. Yesterday, he hadn’t even heard whether Johan had survived or not. There hadn’t been time in the chaos. And today... well, Jim hated himself a little bit for not thinking to ask sooner. But here he was, breathing and moving and living. “You saved him,” Jim finally breathed.

“I was going to say the same thing to you,” Brex said mildly.

Jim startled and looked back at Brex, shaking his head. “What? No, not me. If anything, McCoy did. I couldn’t do anything but watch and -”

“And call for help before it was too late for us to be able to fix the damage.” Brex was giving him an odd look: pride, respect, admiration. It made him uncomfortable. “Maybe you couldn’t control what happened to Finney, but you got everyone else out.”

Jim blinked, not quite able to let himself take in what Brex was telling him. He’d forgotten to ask. “Everyone? Lieutenant Kim? Cadet Liu? They were injured. Badly. Nobody told me - did they -”

“They’re fine,” came the reassuring reply, and Jim let out a tight breath as Brex kept talking. “The Lieutenant is recovering three beds down from here, and Liu was discharged to quarters last night. In fact, I heard a rumor that he said something about you carrying him to safety through a firefight.” There was an unasked question somewhere in there.

Feeling inexplicably like an idiot, Jim shrugged and looked back down at Johan. “I didn’t think about it... I just couldn’t leave him out there.”

A warm hand rested on his shoulder.

“I’ll be just across the room if you need anything.”

Jim nodded silently, still staring at Johan as Brex’s hand fell away from his shoulder and footsteps retreated. He stood still for a long moment, feeling awkward and relieved and unbalanced all at once. Seeing Johan alive was like seem proof that everything was okay. I feel like I should be happy right now, he’d said. It wasn’t happiness, not by a long shot, but it felt like permission to breathe again.

He slid onto the stool next to the biobed and cautiously reached out and touched Johan’s arm. “Hey... Johan? You awake?”

Johan made a low sound in his chest and moved his arm.

“Come on, Plato. We didn’t drag your ass back to the ship so you can ignore me.”

“But if I ignore you,” came the rough reply, “will you go away so I can get some sleep?” Lips split into a tired grin, and Johan’s eyes popped open, looking more alert than they should have been if he’d been out cold only seconds before.

Jim let his mouth fall open. “You jackass! How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

“I -” Jim’s breath caught in a flush of warm embarrassment as he realized Johan must have heard him talking with Brex.

Johan grinned up at him. “The doc is right. You got us out alive. I knew you could do it.” Then he frowned. “But it sounded like you didn’t know I was still alive until just now. They must have let us go, so... didn’t you come back to the ship with me?”

Jim shook his head numbly. “They weren’t going to let us go. We knew too much. Doctor McCoy beamed down to treat you on site, but the damage was too bad. He convinced them that you had no chance of spilling the beans in the state you were in, so they let you go back to the ship and kept both of us.”

Johan’s eyes went a bit wider. “No kidding? Then how did you get out?”

Jim opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. “That’s a story for another day. I promise. I’m just -” His throat tightened a bit. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You too, Blues. Did they patch you up? I know you had more than a scratch.”

Jim waved it off. “Not much more than a scratch. I’m fine.”

“You’re full of shit... but I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I... I am now,” Jim said, suddenly finding his voice a bit thick. “I thought you were going to die on me.”

Johan actually gave a silent chuckle. “Nah. Had to survive. Someone’s gotta make sure Ensign Goldberg doesn’t fry himself on the power grid before he gets a bit more practical experience.” Then his smile faded. “But I think I’ll skip the landing party next time.”

“You don’t want to go exploring other planets?” Jim said, trying to make light of it.

Johan shook his head. “That’s not why I came out here.”

Jim frowned. “Why else would you join Starfleet? I mean, there are plenty of positions on Earth for someone with your skills.” And then Jim realized the depth of what he was asking, and it hit him like a brick in his stomach. “Johan, why did you join Starfleet?”

Johan closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly. “I hadn’t even planned to. After... after what happened to my father, it just didn’t interest me. So I went to technical school to work on dirtside power grids, and it turns out I was one of the best. I was working on the big power grid expansion project back home in South Africa when I got a communique. Starfleet wanted me for their ships... and by then, I was mature enough to want something bigger. I blew through their tech school and boot camp, and here I am. Still in one piece.” He looked down at his bandaged abdomen, shrugged, and looked back up at Jim with a lopsided grin. “Mostly.”

Jim felt a bittersweet smile tug the corner of his mouth. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better, but I can’t complain.” Then he tilted his head and his expression changed. “You got everyone out.”

“You already said that,” Jim said, but the words washed over him like a balm, and he closed his eyes in relief. “I was so worried. I knew I’d made the wrong call at first, but I didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. You were right - I was in charge, and I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Finney, but we got out, and -”

“No, Blues, you’re not listening to me.” Johan’s deep voice undercut his own, and Jim opened his eyes to see Johan looking at him very intently. “You. Got. Everyone. Out. You stayed behind, and made sure we all got out alive, and then... you got out, too. Nobody went down with this ship, Kirk. You did it.”

The air was suddenly too thick to breathe, and Jim gasped as the implication landed on him with crushing weight.

It wasn’t the same as what his father had done - in no way could Jim ever think it was the same - but it fit. Hot and burning and bitter all at once, and yet he almost thought he could feel something letting go... something he’d clung to for far too long. He’d succeeded where he’d thought his father had failed.

“Blues? You okay?”

Jim swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I am. I really think I am.”

*********

Johan fell asleep after about a half hour, but Jim stayed, sitting next to him in silent company until a nurse came in to run some scans and check Johan’s meds. Jim quietly slipped back out into the main part of sickbay. A quick check of the chrono told him that it was 0847 - well into alpha shift. Bones should already be there, but Jim had figured the first thing Bones would do on arrival would be to track him down. That hadn’t happened.

“Cadet Kirk?”

He turned to see a doctor he didn’t recognize approaching him. She had long, dark hair which was worked up into an elaborate twist on her head, and was carrying a tricorder in one hand and a PADD under the other arm.

“Doctor...?”

“Singh. My records said you were discharged, but Doctor Brex said you were still here, talking to Crewman Johan. How are you feeling? Are you having any problems?” She was already activating the tricorder.

Jim waved her off. “I’m fine. And I was also waiting around to see Doctor McCoy.”

She nodded in easy acceptance. “Ah. I understand. Actually, he isn’t here yet.”

Jim frowned. “I thought he was due on alpha shift.”

Singh actually gave him a slightly devious grin. “He was, but I’ll wager that the sedative Doctor Brex gave him still has him out cold.”

“Yeah, he mentioned.” Jim gave a small smile that didn’t feel too fake. “I’ve seen McCoy take sedatives to help him sleep after rough duty shifts or mid-term exams and finals. The guy sleeps like the dead for hours. Will he be in trouble?”

Singh shook her head. “Of course not. We would have given him the day off if we weren’t so short-handed in here. But right now, we’ve got it under control, and it’s not a problem.”

Jim looked around. It was busier around sickbay now that alpha shift had begun. One nurse was taking a patient to a treatment room on a stretcher, and another was helping a patient to walk on what must be a recently repaired leg. Things were getting back to normal. “So... should I wait for him here? Or... I could go to his quarters and pull him out of bed, if you think that would be a good idea.” And really, that’s what Jim wanted to do. He could go and wake Bones up and talk to the guy before he even got down to sickbay for his shift.

“You don’t need to wake him up, Cadet,” Singh said, shaking her head. “I’m sure he’ll be down here soon. It’s up to you, of course, but if you want to wait here, you can.”

“I...” On one hand, he didn’t want to wake Bones if the guy was actually sleeping, but he didn’t want to wait either. Waiting meant rehashing everything he’d just talked about with Johan. Waiting meant thinking about Finney and the failure that even his success couldn’t cover. But waiting also meant giving Bones time to rest, and he didn’t want to be greedy.

“Cadet?”

“I’ll wait.”

Doctor Singh nodded gently. “You know... I heard about some of the things you did on the surface. I heard that you stayed to make sure they didn’t detonate the bomb... that you took care of other people. I admire and respect that.”

Jim shrugged awkwardly, feeling his face burn red. “I only did what seemed right at the time. I wasn’t trying to do it for any sort of recognition.”

She smiled. “I know. That’s why I respect it.”

She waved him to a chair next to the nurse’s station, and Jim sat down, feeling really awkward hanging around in sickbay when he’d been a patient just a couple of hours ago. He tried not to think too much.

Maybe he could go down to Bones’ quarters and just wake the guy up. Bones had given him the passcode, after all. And if he knew Bones, which he absolutely did, then the guy would probably appreciate the wake-up if he’d overslept into his shift.

He was about to stand up and excuse himself when the comm sounded. “Commander Shao to Cadet Kirk.”

Jim startled at the sound of his name. He looked up and saw one of the nurses - a red-headed woman he thought he recognized. “Uh... should I respond?”

She actually rolled her eyes at him, and for a moment, it reminded him of Bones. “If a commander comms a cadet, what do you think?” She laughed lightly at him as his jaw went slack. “Go ahead and take the call at the nurses’ station.”

Jim nodded dumbly, stood, and tapped the comm panel above the nurses’ computer. “Kirk here, sir.”

“Kirk, we were notified that you were discharged from sickbay. I understand that you’re off-duty for twenty-four hours, but Captain Porter wants you to report for a debriefing if you’re capable. Are you feeling up to it?” She sounded thoroughly apologetic.

Jim raised both eyebrows in surprise. “The captain?”

“Yes, cadet. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible, before the negotiations reconvene on the surface.”

“The negotiations are continuing?” Jim blurted out in disbelief. “I figured Starfleet would suspend everything... call off the talks and tell the Axanar where they can... uh... stick it. Uh... sir.” He cringed at his own slip of words.

If Shao was angry at his breach of protocol, she said nothing. “Do you feel that you’re physically able to attend a debriefing?”

“I feel fine, sir.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Please report to Conference Room One promptly.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Shao out.”

Jim took a step back from the nurse’s station and shook his head. So much for going to wake up Bones.

“Are you sure you’re capable of attending a debriefing, Cadet?”

Jim turned to see Doctor Singh giving him a concerned look.

“Yeah... I mean, yes, sir. I’m fine.”

“You just look a bit pale.”

Jim shrugged. “I’m tired. I just... didn’t want to have to think about stuff. I just...” He shook his head. “I can’t believe they’re continuing the talks after everything that happened.”

“You’d be amazed at some of the things people work through out here. There’s always something... a battle, a political crisis, a natural disaster... but life continues on. It has to. Besides, I heard that the Araxians have petitioned for entry into the Federation... independently.”

“That’s... really good news,” Jim said, not holding back his surprise.

“I think it is,” she said with a smile. “A planet with a culture based on free will, academic dedication, and social equality? The Federation will likely welcome them with open arms. I might even move here when I retire.”

Jim let himself smile at the thought of this civilization joining the Federation. “Bones -- uh, McCoy likes them, too.” He let his shoulders relax. “So maybe the captain wants to know what I saw down there before they start the talks?”

“I have no idea what the captain wants to talk to you about, but if I were you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

That was fair enough. Jim nodded, then tugged the hem of his uniform shirt to straighten it out. “Okay.”

*********

Jim arrived at Conference Room One with no idea what to expect. The door slid open, and Jim wasn’t surprised to see Captain Porter sitting next to Commander Shao, but it was the holovid screen that grabbed his attention.

“Captain Pike?”

Pike’s expression was exhausted and grim. “Good morning, Kirk,” came the tired reply, and Jim wondered if he’d gotten any sleep last night. “Don’t you think you ought to try greeting the actual ship’s captain first? You know... the guy sitting right in front of you who asked you to report?”

“I... uh...” Already off-balance, Jim turned slightly and snapped a salute as best he could. “Cadet Kirk reporting as ordered, captain.”

There might have been a hint of a smile as Porter returned the salute and gestured towards the chair across the conference table. “Have a seat, cadet.” He waited a moment for Jim to sit, and continued. “How are you feeling? I was told that you acquired a nasty injury yourself that you didn’t bother to report.”

Jim shrugged uneasily. “It’s fine, sir. They’ve fixed me up, good as new. And it wasn’t as important as getting help for Johan.” He flicked a glance sideways at the viewscreen, making brief eye contact with Pike. “Besides, I was still trying to figure out the situation, and I didn’t want to look weak.”

Pike raised an eyebrow, but Porter merely nodded. “Fair enough. And good tactics for a situation like that. I’m glad to see you on the mend. But now... it’s early, and I know you’re tired, but we should get to the reason I called this debriefing as soon as possible.”

There was an odd tone in Porter’s voice, and Jim frowned. Looking more closely, it was obvious that the captain was exhausted, and Jim realized that the man had probably barely slept. Of course he hadn’t slept - he was the captain of a starship in the middle of a crisis. In fact, if he needed to be down at the continuing negotiations later in the morning, he’d probably called the debriefing before his shift because it was the only chance he’d get. “Absolutely, sir.”

Shao cleared her throat. “Cadet Kirk, first and foremost, I want to tell you that we consider your performance to be beyond reproach in this situation. In fact, we apologize for the circumstances that led to your concerns being ignored until it was almost too late. Still, we need to address the events down on the planet that led to your team being stranded, including the death of Lieutenant Finney.”

In an instant, the blood was rushing loudly in Jim’s ears, and his heart felt too heavy in his chest. This was inevitable. This discussion needed to happen. He had to make the report. He wasn’t ready for it, but the universe doesn’t wait for you to be ready before it drops a bomb on you. It merely grinds on, and all you can do is to react. So that’s what Jim would do.

But in his mind, all he could see was Finney’s blood all over the floor, feel the lifeless body underneath desperate hands, and hear those last orders ringing in his ears. He swallowed thickly, and blinked until he could focus on the room again. Then, feeling much older than he was, he leaned on the table and said, “Where do I begin?”

*********

It had been the last thing Jim had wanted to discuss. Sure, the Captain had also asked him about his tactical decisions, his observations of the Araxian people, and the things he’d noticed leading up to the battle, but they seemed to already know most of what he was telling them. He got the impression that they were simply asking him questions to confirm things they’d already learned. Mostly, the discussion had focused on Finney.

They had wanted to know what had happened, blow-by-blow, from the moment the power sub-station had detonated. Jim had recalled the events as best he could, but mostly, he saw Finney’s lifeless body on the floor of the storage building. He saw the blood on his hands. He heard the damning, awful words that had spilled from his mouth in front of Captain Porter, telling them all that the last thing Finney had done in his life was a massive mistake.

He’d told the bitter truth that Lieutenant Finney, the man who had died trying to protect them all, had seriously fucked up.

That wasn’t how he’d wanted to remember a friend and mentor. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to leave behind for Finney’s wife and young daughter. They’d get a copy of the report, and they’d see his name next to those horrible words. He could have lied... but he hadn’t.

And then, there had been Pike. He’d kept waiting for Pike to say something, but his advisor had barely said a word. There had been something in the man’s steady-but-exhausted gaze that Jim couldn’t quite decipher -- something that was passive and yet judgemental and apologetic and completely unbalanced.

He’d wanted Pike to just say something. He didn’t know what, but Pike had always been the one who had put everything right in the past. Instead, this time, Pike had been on the sidelines, and his advice had been wrong. In the end, the only thing he’d said before he’d had to excuse himself and close the comm-link had been an enigmatic, “You did the best you could with a bad situation, and I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better advice. And... tell McCoy that he was right. And that I’m not going to write him up this time, but he’d better lock out his comm next time he’s on sedatives before he runs his mouth in front of the wrong officer.”

Jim had no idea what to make of that.

He also had no idea what to do next.

He stood outside the door to Conference Room One and stared at the people walking by. They were giving him odd looks. And why shouldn’t they? He was pretty sure he looked completely out of place - a cadet, standing in the hallway on Deck One, no going anywhere, looking lost? Yeah, he needed to get going... but where?

Bones would definitely be down in sickbay by now, but Jim didn’t want to go down there. There would be people there... people he couldn’t face right now. He didn’t want to go back to his quarters, either. Liu would probably be in there, if not most of his squad. Shao had told him that the whole squad of cadets had been taken off-duty for the next twenty-four hours anyway. She’d suggested that he spend time with them, but he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to see anyone.

Looking to his left, then his right, Jim’s gaze finally settled on the turbolift doors in front of him. Not really sure where exactly he was going, he stepped into the turbolift. “Deck twelve.”

*********

To Chapter 22

Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (20/23)

mijan — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 20:11:36 GMT

Title: "The Needs of the Few"
Canon characters/Pairing(s): Kirk & McCoy, Pike, Finney
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 9,639
Warnings: Foul language, political situations, military stuff.

Summary: As cadets on a summer internship, Kirk and McCoy are supposed to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut. As far as Bones is concerned, that’s just plain wrong on Jim Kirk, but Jim seems determined to follow orders and fall in line for a change. After all, they’ve both seen enough trouble in two years at the Academy, and this is the Peace Mission of Axanar. However, when a mystery starts to weave itself around the mission, and the senior officers don’t seem interested in investigating, how far can Kirk and McCoy let it go?

Notes: Real life got the best of me again. Two business trips, the flu, a car accident, a convention, and other such bullshit. Oh, and hey, you remember how I gave Jim a separated shoulder in the first chapter of this fic? Well, guess what I did to myself in that car accident. *sigh* Either way, it's healing, and things are fine. Just busy. And now... more fic!

Previous chapters: One, Two, Three, Four(A), Four(B), Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen

Chapter 20

“Is that everything you wish to include in your statement, Cadet McCoy?”

It was all Leonard could do to keep from groaning aloud and leaning his aching head into his upturned hands. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

Goddammit, I said that was it! Now let me the hell out of here, you harebrained excuse for a Starfleet officer! That’s what he wanted to say. He’d had more than enough of the man sitting across the table from him. But he’d also had more than enough trouble today. Instead, he let the rasp and exhaustion in his voice bleed through heavily as he said, “That’s everything, captain.”

Captain Porter looked sideways at Commander LaSalle, then around the table at the three other officers there. The Captain had introduced them, but Leonard had already forgotten their names. Hell, he could barely remember his own name. For that matter, Leonard couldn’t even remember most of what he’d just told the captain. It was all turning into a haze in his brain, and he didn’t really know which way was up anymore.

He and Jim had arrived on the floor of sickbay, and he’d promptly been pulled back as the medics had loaded Jim onto a stretcher and hauled him off to a treatment bay. Leonard had protested as Nurse Walsh scanned him and unceremoniously dosed him with an anxiolytic. Maybe he should be grateful; it was probably the only reason he wasn’t shaking now. But no, he’d been more ticked off than anything. And then, before he’d had a chance to even check on Jim, he’d come nose to nose with Captain Porter, who had dragged him straight to Conference Room One for a debriefing.

Debriefing. Ha. More like an interrogation, only with a more comfortable chair and a glass of ice water on the table in front of him. Weren’t debriefings supposed to give back some information?

No, of course not. Captain Porter hadn’t told him shit. Sure, Leonard probably knew as much as almost anyone else involved, and he had done his best to read between the lines in Porter’s reactions as he’d detailed what he and Jim had realized about the Araxians, the Axanar, and the Kazarite. Still, Leonard just wanted some confirmation that he and Jim had been right. There were too many pieces missing to put it all together, and if the way Porter nodded at LaSalle was any indication, it didn’t look like he’d be getting those pieces anytime soon. Bastard.

Porter finally graced him with a nod. “Then there’s no reason to keep you any longer.”

Leonard was already halfway out of his seat, desperate to escape. He had no further desire to spend any more time in the presence of the man who might have prevented this whole mess if he’d just listened in the first place.

“But,” Porter continued, “I need to tell you something, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard froze, hovering between sitting and standing. Tell him something? Porter was actually going to give him some information? And since when had Porter had called him by his professional title, instead of cadet? “Sir?”

Porter stood, looking Leonard directly in the eye. “I know you want full disclosure, and I can’t blame you. After what you’ve been through, you’d deserve it, but I can’t tell you much right now. Sure, you and Kirk have figured out most of it, but the rest... half of this will end up classified, and I can’t begin to guess which half. On top of that, I’ve got an entourage of Araxians set to beam up here in the next ten minutes, so I don’t have time to explain. But... I want to personally apologize to you.”

Leonard felt his jaw go a bit slack as he straightened out his knees and stood numbly in front of the captain. “Apologize?” Sure, he wanted an apology, but he damned well hadn’t expected one.

Porter didn’t blink. “There’s no excuse for what must have looked like gross negligence on my part... and yes, I know what it looked like. I want you to know there was a reason for it, apparently beyond my control. I don’t ignore my crew, McCoy, regardless of rank. My record and my colleagues would tell you as much. But you didn’t get that consideration, and whether or not there was a reason for it, you deserve an apology... and a sincere expression of thanks. You and Cadet Kirk did an amazing thing today, against all odds.”

Leonard’s jaw was rapidly falling lower. He didn’t know what to make of the apology, and yeah he felt as though the captain had owed him one, but he choked on the complement. “I sent a man to his death today, captain.”

Porter’s expression was solemn. “So did I, doctor. More than one, if you want to know. Sometimes, it’s part of the job. But you saved many more, including the one you volunteered to save in the first place. I’m glad to have you as a member of my crew, temporary or not… even if you’ve got a bit of an attitude.” His mouth quirked a tired grin. “But that’s okay. I remember another cadet like that from my younger days, and I think he turned out pretty well.”

“Oh? Who?” Leonard couldn’t help but ask.

“Me.” The grin became just a bit conspiratorial. “I got myself into my fair share of horse shit before it started working out for me, and I learned how to balance my attitude with maturity. But... I understand it. And I respect it.” With that, he stuck out his hand across the table.

Leonard stared at Porter. Feeling oddly detached, he reached out and took the captain’s outstretched hand.

The handshake was firm and heartfelt, and as Leonard looked back into the face of the man he’d despised for two weeks, he realized that this didn’t seem like the same man. This seemed like the man Jim had described from his service record. This was a Starfleet captain, and a good one, Leonard wagered. Maybe Jim had been right about the Kazarite influencing the bridge crew, and...

Jim.

“Thank you, sir,” Leonard said roughly as he released the Captain’s hand, suddenly very distracted. “I... uh... should be --”

“You can go check on your friend now,” Porter said, not unsympathetically. “Dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said in a rush. He only gave the other officers a cursory nod before hurrying out of the conference room.

Leonard made it about fifteen meters down the corridor before he realized his legs were shaking. He made it about another ten meters before his hand found the wall for much-needed balance. Crewmen and officers were looking at him oddly as he made it the last few steps to the turbolift and slipped inside. It was blessedly empty, and he quickly tabbed in his medical override code to lock out the lift from other people. Then, feeling as though the entire weight of the day had landed on his shoulders all at once, he leaned his back against the wall of the lift and slid awkwardly to the floor.

Somewhere, a detached part of his mind that never gave up the title Doctor was yelling at him about hyperventilation and emotional shock and low glucose levels, but Leonard told that part to go fuck itself. And Bones told them both to shut the hell up.

The day washed over him like a tidal wave.

He was breathing too fast and the room was spinning and tilting slightly, and some dim part of his brain told him that the anxiety meds Nurse Walsh had given him were thoroughly spent. He closed his eyes, and he heard the sound of gunfire. He smelled the stench of smoke and dust mingling with blood. He saw Hererra’s body in the middle of the street and the grotesque burns on Crewman Johan’s flank and Jim’s blood-stained skin. The memory of the beeping and whirring of the tricorder in his hands merged with the deafening thud of explosions. He felt the hot rage that had boiled up as he tried to argue down an armed terrorist, and damn, I can’t call Jim reckless anymore, not after that. But he could call Jim reckless because the kid had upped the ante and walked out into the middle of a battle, unarmed, unshielded… last ditch, last chance. And with one last look backwards - a look that was burned into Leonard’s memory like a hot brand - Jim had walked out of the room.

Leonard didn’t want to think of what that took meant.

He wanted to ask why me, but that was ridiculous. Absurd. That was so damned selfish it made him sick. There were a million reasons why hundreds or thousands of people had died today, and he’d come out of it alive, so the coincidental reasons why he’d ended up tangled in the middle of it weren’t worth contemplating. It didn’t matter why. The fact remained that he had been there, and so had Jim. He and Jim… always in the middle of everything. Every fucking disaster, it seemed. He knew that wasn’t true, of course, and that other mishaps and catastrophes, large and small, happened to other people every day. It just felt like he and Jim were always in the middle of every mess.

He should be grateful. He was still alive, dammit. He’d seen the success of a noble revolution, he’d played a part in stopping the bloodshed, and both he and Jim had come through it in one piece.

Well… mostly one piece.

Dammit, Jim.

He finally cracked open his eyes and stared at the grayscale walls of the turbolift as he forced himself to slow his breathing. He was a doctor, goddammit; he knew what to do. It just wasn’t as easy when he was the one losing his shit. He been on the edge of panic all day, and but he’d held it together. Now that the crisis was over, it was all crashing down on him. He felt cold and useless, overwhelmed and thoroughly wrung out.

He couldn’t stop now. The day wasn’t over, at least, not for him. He needed to check in with sickbay... and he needed to see Jim.

He took a few more bracing breaths, and when the room seemed to stop spinning, he carefully pulled himself to his feet and clung pathetically to the railing around the turbolift for balance. “Deck three.”

It took seconds for the doors to open into the corridor of deck three, almost directly across from sickbay, and he forced himself out of the turbolift on unsteady legs. The doors whooshed open and he trudged through, then came to a dead stop just inside, startled by the familiarity of it all. Even though it had only been a few hours since everything had turned upside-down, it felt as though he’d been gone for ages. So much had happened. He didn’t feel the same.

Still, he still had a job to do, and a friend to see.

On a cursory glance, it looked as though the worst of the crisis was over. It was busy, but not frantic. Nurses and medics were still tending to patients, and Leonard was sure some of the patients still needed significant treatment, but there was no yelling, no alarms blaring as biosigns faltered and failed, no fresh blood on the floor. Voices were calm and hushed so that patients could rest. Every bed was full, and Leonard remembered Brex saying that an additional recovery bay had been set up just down the corridor.

It could have been worse, he reminded himself. The medical facilities on Araxis had been undamaged, and with the cessation of hostilities, the Araxians were more than capable of caring for their own. That left only the injured crew members and Federation Ambassadors aboard the Athena. Most of the minor injuries had probably been discharged already, leaving the remaining biobeds for the worst injuries... and the one that had arrived last.

Even though he wanted nothing more than to make a beeline for Jim, his responsibilities went beyond his best friend. He was a doctor, and a member of Starfleet, and he knew the other medical staff had been through hell themselves while he’d been down on the planet. He wasn’t about to leave it all on their shoulders without at least checking to see if he could help. Besides, once he got to Jim, he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on any other patients.

A memory, incongruous with his current setting, hit him like a ton of bricks. A member of Starfleet is always on duty. Thaleb. Jim’s Andorian friend had told him that.

Well damn.

Ignoring the heat rising around his collar, he continued through sickbay, checking in at the nurse’s station to get a general report before beginning a round of the patients. In the open areas of the main bay, dividers had been set up to afford some privacy to the patients now that sickbay was no longer in crisis mode. Some of them would likely be there for a few days, and privacy and comfort were important.

After two other patients, he found Crewman Johan, sedated but stable. He checked Johan’s treatment record and saw that the worst of the damage had been repaired. The guy had lost a kidney, but the other one was functioning well and would take over for the missing one. He’d need a couple more surgeries to finish removing and replacing the damaged tissue, but his prognosis looked excellent. Leonard allowed himself a satisfied smile as he moved on to the next bay.

However, before he could duck into the next patient’s area, a flash of red hair caught his attention as Nurse Walsh popped out from a treatment bay at the far end of the room. She took a few quick steps towards the supply room, but caught sight of Leonard and stopped with a knowing look.

“Doctor McCoy,” she said in the quiet tones of a nurse working around resting patients, “I’m sure you want to know... Kirk’s surgery went perfectly and he’s recovering in there.” She indicated the bay she’d just come from with a nod of her head. “In fact, I was just getting an extra blanket for him and a pack of blood replenishers to help restore his hemoglobin level.”

Leonard breathed in relief and frowned in concern at the same time. “How much blood did he lose?” According to the quick scan Leonard had run before they’d beamed up, the shrapnel in Jim’s gut had finally nicked a couple of decent-sized blood vessels.

“They estimated about a liter and a half, total,” Walsh said as she reached the supply cabinet and pulled a packet of rust-colored fluid out of a drawer, then quickly grabbed a blanket and walked back. “He’d recover without the replenishers, but he’ll feel better sooner with it.”

Leonard nodded as his concern faded a bit, and he fell into step behind her. Yeah, it would have been bad if Jim had kept bleeding, but they caught the injury in time. The crisis itself had actually been a much closer call.

They rounded the privacy screen and Leonard went directly over to Jim’s bedside as Walsh went to the other side of the bed to hook the medication up to the IV line. Jim looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes, but not too bad, all things considered. A quick check of the screen showed that his hemoglobin and blood pressure were low, and his core temperature was a bit below normal, but everything else looked really good.

Walsh spread out the blanket over Jim and smoothed it down. “I’ll leave you with him,” she said with a nod. “But... doctor? To offer my unsolicited professional opinion, you look like hell.”

He rolled his eyes. “That usually happens when you’ve been through it.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t have a good reason for it. But you need to get some rest, whether or not you want to. We’ve run out of biobeds, so if you collapse on us, I’ll just stick you on a stretcher in the middle of the hallway and let the rest of the crew wonder why we let one of our own medical staff make himself ill.” She gave him a look that didn’t leave room for argument, and Leonard remembered why she was the nurse of choice for dealing with stubborn patients.

Nodding warily, he eased himself into the chair next to Jim’s bed. “Aye-aye, sir.”

“Good,” she said flatly, softening it with a smile, then left the bay.

Finally alone with Jim, the soft noises of sickbay faded into the background. He was far past the point of awkward when it came to Jim, so Leonard didn’t hesitate as he reached over, took Jim’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. The kid should be waking up pretty soon, and while Leonard had no idea what he was going to say when Jim woke up, he knew what he wanted to say now. Maybe Jim would hear some of this. If he did... then perhaps it was for the better.

“You’re the biggest idiot of a genius I’ve ever met, kid.” He shook his head in silent awe. “Nobody else but you would have pulled that stunt... and maybe nobody else would have gotten out of it alive. You’re still a bit of an asshole, and there are days I don’t know why I put up with you... but Jim? I keep saying I’ll never let you surprise me again, and now I’m sure that’s the biggest pile of horse crap this side of the quadrant. I think you’re gonna keep surprising me for the rest of my life. Just don’t get yourself killed in the process, okay? You’re a bastard sometimes, and a crazy space cowboy with delusions of grandeur even when you swear you just want to be a normal cadet.” He snorted, then sighed.

“Jim, you were never just a normal cadet. I think I told you that almost two years ago. You’d be the guy who would save the world with the proverbial chewing gum and baling wire... or a tricorder and hypospray... or whatever... at the same time as you’re the reckless idiot who would go out on a limb until the limb snapped and then you’d just keep right on going. But kid?” He gave Jim’s hand a squeeze. “You’re my idiot. And I’m proud of you. Just wanted to tell you that.”

There wasn’t even a twitch from Jim.

Leonard furrowed his eyebrows slightly. The kid usually popped awake pretty fast after being sedated, so maybe he was just that damned wrung out. With a shrug, Leonard tapped into the biobed’s computer to get the rest of Jim’s chart. He’d come out of surgery about 45 minutes ago, while Leonard had still been up to his eyeballs in the debriefing. He was scheduled for some regen work overnight to avoid internal scarring and adhesions, but that would be easy. Of course, Jim would still be in quite a bit of discomfort when he woke up, but not terribly so.

Leonard tabbed to another screen and checked the levels of medications in Jim’s system. The blood replenisher dosing seemed more than adequate. While it wasn’t Leonard’s first choice, the antibiotic seemed to be doing the trick. The analgesic levels didn’t quite seem high enough in Leonard’s opinion for someone who would be waking up any minute from abdominal surgery, but there was still a surprisingly high amount of sedative in the kid’s system. If Leonard remembered correctly, and he did, Jim metabolized anesthesia drugs pretty rapidly.

Leonard looked over at the IV box above the biobed and noticed that the sedative was still being administered. Frowning deeply, he pulled up the orders for medications, and saw that they were going to keep Jim on a constant dose of sedatives until 0600 hours, or after his third round of regen work, whichever came first.

“What the hell?” he growled. Why weren’t they letting Jim wake up? Sure, he knew Jim was okay, but Leonard needed to see those eyes open. Needed to reassure himself that both he and his best friend had survived the crisis together and were both hale and whole, and some part of him wasn’t going to accept that unless Jim would just wake up, dammit!

Tabbing to another screen, he quickly looked down at the bottom of the page for the electronic signature. Brex had signed the orders. Feeling irrationally betrayed, he tapped the screen back to the main page, gave Jim’s hand a quick squeeze, and blew out of the treatment bay.

Brex was still on duty. Of course he was. And Leonard was going to find out why his best friend was being kept in a drug-induced doze because he just needed to talk to Jim before he lost his damned mind.

He hurried down the line of treatment bays, peeking around each privacy screen as he went. He made it almost to the opposite corner of the room and looked into the second-to-last bay. What he saw made his breath catch in his lungs, and almost made him forget why he came to find Brex in the first place.

Doctor Brex was sitting up with the Kazarite. Their hands were clasped between them, and their eyes were locked. Leonard watched, transfixed, as Brex smiled and nodded. Then the Kazarite shook his head. Brex shrugged. It was like watching a conversation, but there were no words.

Of course it’s a conversation, idiot, Leonard berated himself. He was debating whether to interrupt or to slip out before they saw him when Brex turned towards him and gave him a nod.

“McCoy, it’s quite alright. Come in.”

“I can wait,” he said automatically, but his feet didn’t seem to want to move. Instead, his mouth kept going. “I don’t want to get into the middle of your conversation, so I’ll leave you and the Ambassador to discuss... whatever it is you’re discussing, and when you’re done.... what?”

Brex was giving him a bemused look. “The Ambassador and I were discussing you and Kirk. He would like to speak with you.”

Leonard felt his eyes go wide. That was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment. He didn’t want to talk to anyone except Jim... and absolutely not the guy who was responsible for so much of the disaster today. “Doctor Brex... sir... with all due respect, that’s -”

“He has every reason to despise me, doctor,” the Kazarite said suddenly. “And no reason to wish to speak to me.”

Brex frowned, first down at the Kazarite, and then at Leonard. “McCoy, you’ll want to hear what he has to say.”

“I don’t,” Leonard said in a burst. “I... I’m sorry, but I need -”

“Doctor,” the Kazarite said softly, putting a hand on Brex’s arm. “Not tonight. He’s exhausted and frantic, and he’s worried about his friend. There will be time.”

Brex hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Then rest well. The nurse will check on you shortly.” In one smooth movement, Brex stood and walked out of the small treatment bay.

Leonard almost stumbled as he turned and fell into step behind Brex. “Doctor Brex? What was that all about? And why is Jim still sedated? And... wait, Jim is that way!”

Brex slowed his footsteps just enough to let Leonard come up alongside him. “Yes, but my office is this way. And for the moment, that’s where we’re going.”

“But Jim -”

Brex finally stopped walking and turned so that they were face to face. His expression was concerned. “I promise, I’ll discuss everything with you,” he said as he reached out and gave Leonard’s shoulder a squeeze. “But not in the middle of sickbay, and not around patients who are trying to rest. So please... come with me for a moment.” He dropped his hand from Leonard’s arm without another word, finished walking across sickbay to his office. The door slid open, and then shut behind him.

Leonard stared at the closed door. Then he looked back over his shoulder at the far end of sickbay, where Jim was blissfully unaware of what was happening around him. Finally, he let his shoulders slump, and walked towards the CMO’s office.

The office door opened obediently, and then hissed softly as it sealed them in. Leonard slouched heavily into the chair across from Brex - his supervisor, colleague, and friend - and looked up.

Brex, for his part, was watching him expectantly.

Leonard had no idea what he was waiting for, because the guy already knew exactly what was on his mind. He wanted to talk to his best friend, and then sit up watching over the kid all night, fall asleep next to the biobed, and wake up with a miserable kink in the neck so he could grumble about it to make Jim laugh at him, because that’s what he did, dammit! It was better than losing his mind the way he was right now. The whole world had turned upside down, and Jim was the only familiar thing he had. A planet was in shambles below, countless people had died, the captain was apologizing to a cadet, and now Leonard had seen his boss sitting hand-in-hand with the guy who was at the heart of the whole thing, and -

“How the hell could you even talk to him after what happened?” It was out of Leonard’s mouth before he’d even realized his brain had formed the words, but that was good enough.

But Brex only shook his head tolerantly. “He’s my patient, McCoy. I needed to assess him.”

“That’s what a tricorder is for,” he snapped. “You were holding his hand... talking to him... good God, man, this is the guy who...” Leonard’s voice trailed off as he realized that he didn’t actually know exactly what the Kazarite had done. “I don’t know how he did what he did, but I know he’s at least partly responsible for that mess down there! And whatever else he’s done, he attacked you!”

Brex sighed heavily, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “He caused me no permanent damage. He was actually quite cautious about that. It was the telepathic equivalent of having a blindfold on.”

Leonard shook his head, dismayed at how easily Brex seemed to be accepting this. “But still... I mean, he handicapped you... he put you into a coma for days! And your memory... what about your memory?”

“Suppressed, not destroyed,” Brex said with a nod. “And McCoy... I don’t blame him for what happened. That’s why you need to listen to him... but not tonight.”

“At least we agree on something,” Leonard said testily. He didn’t want to think about the Kazarite. He just needed to see Jim. His brain was spinning, and that was the only thing that made sense anymore. “Doctor Brex, you’ve got to let me talk to Jim. His chart says that his surgery was textbook perfect, but you’ve got him out cold on pentazepam, and I don’t see why he needs to be kept under sedation now that --”

“Doctor McCoy.” Brex’s tone was firm, and Leonard felt himself sit up a bit straighter. “We’re keeping him sedated for a few reasons, not the least of which is that he’d still be in a fair bit of pain if he were to wake up right now. His body is completely wrung out. He’s still got three more regen sessions scheduled overnight, and they’ll be much more effective if he doesn’t try to move around too much. Based on his record, it’s likely that he’ll try to get out of bed as soon as he’s awake. You know that. So instead, we’re letting him get some much-needed rest, avoid a lot of pain, and get more effective treatment overnight. Nothing more sinister than that. Got it?”

Leonard hadn’t heard Brex use such a forceful tone towards him the entire time he’d been aboard the Athena, but instead of throwing him off, it actually seemed to help. The firm edge of Brex’s voice felt like something solid and reliable when everything else was spinning out of control. And Brex was right, of course. As a doctor, Leonard had to agree with that assessment and treatment plan. However, as Jim’s friend, Bones just wanted to see Jim wake up. Still, he nodded edgily. “Yeah, I know that.”

Brex nodded gently, and his expression softened again. “I know you do. Kirk is fine for the moment. But I’m more concerned right now that you’re not.”

Leonard frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brex gave him an incredulous look.

“Fine, okay, I know.” Leonard blew out a breath through pursed lips. “I’ve been in a hostage situation. I sent someone to their death today. My best friend almost sacrificed himself in front of me and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop him. I know that I’m overtired and on the edge of a panic attack, but my friend is in there, and he’s alive, so can you take him off the sedatives so I can talk to him now?” He sounded crazy, even to his own ears, but he didn’t much care at that moment.

“Leonard,” Brex said softly, “I know how good you are at regulations. It’s been an awful day for a lot of people. Our medical staff is overwhelmed and stretched to the limits. So tell me... when a member of the crew has been through what could be classified as a severe emotional trauma, what should I do?”

Leonard furrowed his eyebrows as the regulation popped into his head and he automatically began to rattle it off. “Minimally, a critical incident stress debriefing and baseline psych assessment before permitting a return to duty, and ongoing counseling if... now wait just one minute there!”

Brex tilted his head, but not in concession. “I’m not going to provide less care for my own staff than I do for the rest of the crew. So talk to me, Leonard. This isn’t about jumping through some hoop in a standard operating procedure. This is me, worried about you, and wanting you to tell me what happened. We can substitute this for a formal assessment, if that will make you feel like you have an excuse to let loose, but please... talk.”

The air seemed too thick and too warm. Leonard had to remind himself to breathe evenly. “I usually talk to Jim.”

“I know.”

He didn’t want to talk about this at all. At least, not to someone who hadn’t been down there - someone who couldn’t understand. “I don’t know how much you know about what happened down there.”

“Only that you and Kirk figured out the connection with the Kazarite and somehow managed to get a message to Captain Porter. He came busting down into sickbay with an order to wake the Ambassador immediately. We did, and the whole thing came out. I heard that if we’d taken much longer, the Araxians would have detonated a fairly large bomb. But... I was in sickbay, taking care of patients. I wasn’t able to follow the whole thing.”

“Yeah. You got the gist of it,” Leonard said distractedly.

“Leonard, I’m not asking for a play-by-play report. I want to know how you’re feeling.”

At that, Leonard actually snorted, as if it could hide the fact that his throat was tight and his eyes were threatening to leak. “As if you don’t already know.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Brex’s voice was so patient, so non-judgemental, it would be so easy just to break and let the floodgates open. So much pent up stress, terror, fear... so much had happened. It all blurred together, and his mind fixed on one thing that had clung to his skin, his mind... everything.

“It was dusty.”

“Dusty?”

“Dust... smoke... on everything.” He looked down at his hands. There was still a crust of grime under his nails. They were usually perfectly manicured - clean and trimmed, as befitting the hands of a medical professional. Now, they were tainted. He was tainted by everything he had seen and heard and felt. The dust... in his nostrils, his clothes, his hair, the wrinkles of his skin. “The explosions around the city kicked all this dust into the air. It was everywhere. It was dusty, grimy... it was hell,” he said flatly.

“Tell me.”

The floodgate didn’t break. Instead, Leonard pulled it wide open and let it rush out. He was pretty sure he wasn’t making sense half of the time, but he got the impression that it didn’t matter. In his mind, it was a whirl of images, broken down into sensations and emotions, and it came pouring out in a torrent of words. But everything he thought of, every image that spun through his mind, he kept coming back to one thing... one image burned into his brain: Jim, walking out the door.

Finally, Leonard let himself slump back in the chair again, thoroughly spent. He closed his eyes, but the image of Jim walking away flashed through his thoughts again. “I only know one thing right now,” Leonard said roughly.

“What’s that?”

“I’ll never let him walk away from me again. Not like that.” When Brex didn’t respond for a moment, Leonard cracked an eyelid. “Doctor?”

Brex was studying him carefully, but then he suddenly stood. “Okay. Come along.”

Leonard was confused and disoriented as he followed Brex out of the office and through sickbay, straight to Jim’s treatment bay. He was surprised by the sudden turnaround, but he wasn’t about to argue with it.

Jim hadn’t moved at all since he’d left, not that Leonard had expected him to. The biobed readouts looked steady and reassuring. Jim’s core temperature was better, and he was a bit less pale. Leonard noted that at least half of the blood replenisher had been infused already.

“Leonard, stop assessing the patient and sit down with your friend,” Brex said, startling him slightly.

Feeling a bit sheepish, Leonard glanced back over his shoulder and said, “It’s a habit.”

Brex smiled. “Not the worst habit in the world. I’ve been likewise guilty.”

Leonard nodded, sighed, and grabbed the small chair in the corner. He pulled it up next to the bed, then sat down heavily. “Crazy hero kid,” he said with a grumble. After a split second of hesitation, he reached out and grabbed Jim’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

He sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just being reassured by the subdued noises of sickbay and the steady thrum of Jim’s pulse beneath his fingertips. It was so real and immediate that Leonard could almost let himself believe that he hadn’t been in the middle of a battle just hours ago. Almost. The image of Jim walking out the door flashed through his mind again, and Leonard squeezed the kid’s hand tighter. Jim was right here, and he wasn’t about to walk away, like a damned martyr or some crazy shit like that...

“He didn’t walk away from you, Leonard.”

Leonard glanced back over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brex was leaning against the partition with his arms folded across his chest, looking relaxed and non-threatening. “A subtle but important difference,” he said softly. “Walking away from someone means that the intent is to get away from that person. Kirk wasn’t walking away from you. He was walking into something dangerous, knowing that the risk was worth it. He was doing it to protect people he thought were worth protecting.”

There was an emphasis on certain words, and Leonard’s mouth had gone dry. “Did you read that in his head?” he asked, trying to cover the uneasy sensation in his stomach with sarcasm.

“No. But I know... based on what you told me back in the office.” Brex took a couple of steps further into the treatment bay, but still kept a courteous distance. “And I also know something else.”

Leonard licked his lips. “What’s that?”

“That he knows you didn’t walk away from him when he needed it.”

Leonard felt his eyes go wide. “He said...?”

Brex locked unwavering eyes with him. “A couple of weeks ago, you were sitting in my office, a complete wreck because you thought you’d walk away from the people you cared about when they needed you. Well, now you know you won’t. And Jim knows that. And I know this because while we were prepping him for surgery, he was talking up a storm.”

Leonard looked down at Jim’s peacefully slack features. “Dammit, Jim.”

Brex chuckled. “He said he tried to get you to come back to the ship, but you wouldn’t. He was frantic about it... but grateful. He would have still done it without you there, but... if I picked up anything from Kirk while we were getting him prepped, it was that he needs someone to care about what he does.”

“I know,” Leonard said roughly. “I’ve known that for a couple of years now. And how I learned it... the shit I’ve gone through with this guy... I’ll probably never know everything about him, but when it comes to that, I’m pretty sure I’ve got him figured out.”

“He’s got you figured out, too,” Brex said, with emphasis.

It took Leonard a moment to process the tone in Brex’s voice. “Wait... come again?”

Brex sighed. “I said there were a few reasons why he’s still sedated. Of course, it’ll be better for his recovery. But it’s also better for you, too”

Leonard dropped Jim’s hand and twisted around in the chair to look at Brex. “Just how the hell do you figure that?”

Brex looked at him patiently. “Aside from recovering from the injury, Kirk is also exhausted and overspent, and he’s dealing with the emotional aftermath of his ordeal. Sedatives are probably the only way he’s going to get the rest his body needs right now. But he’s not the only one, Leonard. Before we put him under, he said you’d come in here as soon as they released you from the debriefings, and you’d probably stay here all night, hovering over him instead of going back to your quarters and getting the rest you need.”

“Wait just one minute --”

“He also told me to make sure you took care of yourself,” Brex said firmly. “And I know you well enough to know that right now, this is the best thing for both of you.”

Before Leonard could ask what that was supposed to mean, Bred was standing over him, holding out a downturned fist. Leonard automatically opened his hand, and Brex deposited a small white pill in the center of his palm. He looked up at Brex, sputtering indignation. “What’s this all about?”

Brex leaned back against the edge of the biobed, looking at Leonard with an expression of sympathy. At least it wasn’t pity. “Leonard, you’re exhausted, and despite offloading some of your trauma in my office, you’re far more emotionally wrung out than you’re even admitting to yourself. I’m a friend and a colleague, but I’m also your commanding officer and the ship’s chief medical officer.”

Leonard looked at the pill in his hand in disbelief. “You’re ordering me to go back to my quarters and take a sedative?”

Brex nodded.

“While Jim is still here and hasn’t woken up yet?”

“He’s deep in a dreamless sleep. He’s resting comfortably, and that’s what he needs. You need the same thing, and you know it. You’re still shaking slightly, and I’ll guess the only reason you’re still upright is adrenaline.” His expression became plaintive. “You’ve seen him, Leonard. You know his injuries are mended, and he’s as comfortable as he could possibly be. Although I want to take you off-duty for the next couple of days, we’re short-staffed with a large patient load. We’ve got you scheduled for alpha shift. We need you to be well-rested if you’re going to be on-duty in the morning, when Kirk will be awake and wanting to talk to you.”

Leonard wavered.

Brex sighed. “You can’t take care of other people - including Jim - until you take care of yourself.”

Leonard looked at the pill in the palm of his hand. He recognized the drug, and it was just about the strongest sedative he’d dare to prescribe for a person who wasn’t being sedated under supervision. It would have him out cold for a solid eight hours, that’s for sure.

He looked back at Jim. He hated the idea of leaving Jim alone down here, but the kid was out cold. Jim wouldn’t notice, and dammit, Leonard was exhausted. He could get some sleep now, and then be there in the morning when Jim woke up. That’s when Jim would need him. And if Leonard was honest with himself, he’d need his best friend, too.

“Dammit, Jim.” Without another word, he palmed the pill and stood. “Okay. You win.”

“I’m not trying to win, Leonard. I’m trying to help.” Brex gave him a mild look of exasperation. “It’s not always about winning.”

Leonard nodded edgily. “Yeah, I know. Just seems like everything was win or lose today.”

“I understand,” Brex said, but his lips were pressed together in a thin line. “And you won more than you lost.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Did I? Did any of us?”

Brex rested a warm hand on his arm. “Get some sleep and tell me in the morning.”

“Sure.” That was all the conversation Leonard could handle. He reached down and gave Jim’s arm a squeeze. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone. Got it? I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, he turned and walked past Brex, who fell into step alongside him, aiming for the door out of sickbay. “Wake me up if something happens, okay?” he said flatly.

“Nothing should happen, but I will.”

“I’ll be here at 0800.” He’d have to set his alarm pretty loud, but if he took the pill as soon as he got to his quarters, he should be able to wake up.

“Okay. Don’t worry about oversleeping, though. Singh is coming in for alpha shift, too, and we’ve got enough backup staff to cover. I’ll let her know you might oversleep because of the sedative.”

“Okay.” He really didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Leonard?”

Leonard stopped just short of the doors of sickbay. “What?” Even as he said it, he cringed at how sharp his tone was. “Sorry, what?”

Brex was giving him a gentle smile. “I’m proud of you, Leonard.”

Leonard meant to say something, but his throat choked closed, and there were no words anyway. Jaw tensed and eyes threatening to leak - God damn it, he was definitely overtired - Leonard could only nod and hurry out the door.

He was in his quarters before he knew it. He slapped the sedative pill down on the small table next to his bunk. Then, he stripped off his filthy uniform and shoved it into the cleaning unit, even though he had half a mind just to leave it in a heap on the floor. He could almost imagine Jim mocking him for that. I’m rubbing off on you, Bones, he’d say. The bastard.

Shaking it off, he dragged himself into the bathroom and tabbed in all his water credits, then turned the shower on as hot as he could tolerate it. He tried to imagine that the water was washing away more than just the physical filth of the day. Dust and soot and grime blasting off his skin and sluicing down the drain along with the shuddering explosions and sticky blood and the smell of death that he swore was still clinging to his skin and pervading the air. It wasn’t going away. He scrubbed and lathered and rinsed and scrubbed again until the computer informed him that he had two minutes of water credit left and he still felt dirty.

Breathing hard and trying not to think, he finally shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. The towel was rough and his skin was violently pink and it almost hurt and that was just fine by him. He didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to sleep after a day like this, sedative be damned. He thought about hitting the replicator coffee and reading medical journals on his PADD until it was time for his shift, but they’d know, and he’d been given a medical order.

Grumbling to himself, he tossed his towel into the cleaning unit, grabbed a pair of boxers out of his dresser, and pulled them on, all while shooting angry glares at the small white pill on his bedside table. He felt absurd, but he shook that off and indulged in his pointless anger. If he could be angry at the pill, he could ignore everything else.

Jesus H. Christ, he was really starting to lose it.

With a sigh of surrender, he grabbed a cup of water from the drink slot, plucked the pill off the table, and tossed it back. He had about fifteen minutes before it would kick in, so he might as well get comfortable. Placing the water glass on the bedside table, he pulled back the covers just a bit too roughly, and with a heavy grunt and Computer, lights off, dammit, he wrapped himself into a tight roll of bedsheets and blankets and tried to pretend the world didn’t exist.

The sheets were just starting to feel warm around his body when a loud beep cut the silence of his quarters. He startled and flailed out, tangling himself in sheets and blankets as his breath came too fast and harsh in his chest at the unexpected interruption.

“Fuck... lights... computer, lights! Goddammit, what the...”

He blinked and stared across the room to the flashing red light on the computer console at his desk. “The hell...?”

Leonard finally realized it was a notification for an incoming holovid call, and his heart stuttered as he realized what it might be. “Jim!” He scrambled out of bed, almost tripping on the sheets that were still wrapped around his legs. “Ouch, goddammit!”

Finally free of the sheet, he grabbed his bathrobe where he’d thrown it on the back of his chair wrapped it around himself. He knew he looked like hell, but he didn’t care. He slapped the holovid panel as he dropped into the chair. “McCoy here.”

It took him a second to register the familiar face in front of him. “Doctor McCoy, it’s good to see you.”

Leonard blinked a couple of times. Of the many things he hadn’t expected, this was pretty close to the bottom of the list. “Captain Pike. I... uh... sorry I’m not in uniform.”

Pike gave a half-shrug. Even though he was in uniform, he looked like hell himself, and Leonard wondered if he hadn’t planned to be on duty at that moment. “I didn’t expect you to be in uniform. It’s pretty late over there. I understand you’ve been through quite a trying experience, and if anything, I should apologize for waking you up.”

A flash of annoyance, more at his situation than at Pike, twisted Leonard’s lips into a scowl. “I wasn’t asleep... yet. Just took a sedative, though, so I will be soon, but I’ve got a few minutes before it kicks in. What can I do for you, sir?”

Pike shifted in his seat, and Leonard got the distinct impression that the man was uneasy. And not just uneasy... nervous. In the two years Leonard had known Captain Pike, the man had been a veritable pillar of sanity and calmness. This just wasn’t right. But then again, wasn’t that the theme of the day?

Finally, Pike leaned a bit forward on his desk and spoke. “I just received a full report of what happened on Araxis, including a copy of your report.”

“Oh.” Of course. Why else would Pike be calling? He’d heard the whole thing, and he needed to check in on his cadets, including his advisee and pet project. “Kirk is still recovering from surgery, but he should be awake in the morning, if you need to talk to him, captain.”

“That was in the report I got, too. And I’ll need to talk to Kirk as well, but I was calling to talk to you first. And not because he’s still out cold.” Pike sighed and shook his head. “Captain Porter’s communique included a few things he probably couldn’t tell you. And some things I hadn’t known.” He hesitated, then let his shoulders slump just a bit. “McCoy... I’m sorry.”

That was the second time Leonard had heard those words from a Starfleet Captain in as many days. This time, the effect wasn’t quite the same.

Maybe it was because he was too exhausted to think straight. Or it could have been the anxiety and adrenaline mixing with the first traces of the sedative in his bloodstream. Perhaps it was because he’d been on the edge of blazing fury and paralyzing fear all afternoon without tipping into either side. Or... maybe it was because he’d been through hell, and he was looking at the man who had told Jim to just be a cadet, and that simple instruction had almost gotten them all killed.

“You’re... sorry,” Leonard said slowly, tasting the words and rolling them around in his mouth. For a split second, it looked like Pike was going to speak again, but Leonard pushed forward. “You’re sorry,” he said again, the words dripping with scorn mingled with the rough edge of dust and smoke still grating inside his throat. “You know... Jim said he talked to you. While we were down there... he told me that he’d commed you, and you’d just told him to be a good little cadet, to keep his head down... you essentially told James T. Kirk to get in line, sit down, and shut up, and he did. He jumped through every one of your little hoops like a well-trained show dog, and he kept his mouth shut when he was one of the only goddamned people on the ship who could see what was going on!”

To Leonard’s annoyance, Pike only sat calmly, letting the anger roll over him. “McCoy, you have every right to be angry -”

“You’re damned right, I do!” He slammed his palm down on his desk for good measure, letting the sting in his hand spur him on. “The number of people who died today - the destruction, the body count - and Jim was right in the middle of it, putting his ass on the line when neither of us could convince the oh-so-capable command crew to open their eyes and see what was happening! You told Jim to trust the officers, to trust the captain, and they all let him down!”

“They know that, McCoy. I spoke to Captain Porter briefly. I’ve known that man for years, and your captain is not the sort of man who misses things. I had no way to know that Porter had been compromised. I can’t tell you what happened, but I had every reason to believe that the Araxis situation was in capable hands.”

Leonard shook his head, feeling the incredulity oozing over him. “Every reason... no way to... good God, man! Jim told you they weren’t doing enough! I wasn’t there, but I know Jim. He tried to tell you, and you let it go!” He was leaning closer and closer to the vid screen, and the anger in his chest was erupting upwards, volcanic and explosive. It felt good after everything that had happened. His familiarity with Pike gave him a freedom that he didn’t feel like he had with Porter. He finally had a target for his anger; this was someone who should have stepped in, who should have fucking known.

Pike, however, was still the perfect picture of calm, laced with just a touch of remorse. If anything, it made Leonard want to put his fist through the computer terminal. “Yes, Kirk told me what he saw. He expressed his concerns, and I listened. And then, I talked to a capable, experienced Starfleet captain - a man I trust - and was told that everything was under control. McCoy... I had no way to know what was happening. Nobody did.”

“Jim did.” The heat bubbling in his chest took on a different quality. “And that ought to be enough for anyone.”

For the first time since the call started, Pike’s face hardened a bit. “I can’t take the word of a cadet over the word of a captain.”

“Is that what your gut tells you?” Leonard snapped. “That rank is everything out here? You told me once that this is Starfleet, and it’s always different. Well, you know what, captain? There’s your different! You recruited him because of that! Rank be damned, protocol be damned -- Jim was right!”

“I know, Doctor McCoy.” Pike’s face was completely unreadable.

Leonard pressed his face even closer to the screen, squinting slightly. It was starting to look fuzzy, but he was too ticked off to care. “You say you know, but you still didn’t do a damned thing. That kid sees everything, and I swear, someday, he’ll see something that nobody else sees, and he’ll try to warn them, but they won’t listen to him, and he won’t be able to pull a miracle out of his ass. Some arrogant, swaggering, over-confident bastard of a captain will brush him off, and everyone is going to die because of it! A ship, a city... who the fuck knows! I don’t know, but that’s what would happen!”

He made a move to stand so he could lean even closer to the screen, but the chair seemed to wobble beneath him. Hell, the damned floor was wobbling. Didn’t matter. “Jim Kirk is a goddamned idiot sometimes, and he’s a fucking infant when it’s time for his booster shots, but he’s still a damned genius, and not just in ways you can test. And... and you... you should have known... you should have stopped this... stopped it before it was too late.” The furious heat in his chest had changed, and his face and eyes were warm... and wet?

“Leonard.” Pike’s voice was no quieter, but it seemed softer this time. In fact, everything seemed softer.

Leonard opened his mouth to speak again, but it came out in a choked sort of sound. He cleared his throat. “What Jim did today... he almost sacrificed himself to do it. I... I made a goddamned report, but there’s no way... I can’t ever explain... captain, the look on his face... oh God, the look on his face...”

“Leonard,” Pike said again. “You’ve been through a lot, and I’m pretty sure that sedative you took is about to drop you on your ass. We’ll have words about this later, but... under the circumstances, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear most of that. Besides, you’re not wrong.”

“I...” Leonard blinked a few times, trying to clear his head, but he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, but it’ll have to be. I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. Now go to bed. That’s an order.” Pike’s voice was firm, but not unkind, and it was enough to get Leonard to act.

“Aye, sir,” he said, clumsily getting to his feet. Damn, the sedative was really hitting him hard.

“Good. And McCoy?” Pike hesitated for just a fraction of a second. “I’ll talk to Kirk tomorrow, but... you while you’re busy taking care of him... try to take care of yourself. Pike out.”

With that, the screen went dark.

Leonard blinked a few times, not really able to wrap his head around what had just happened. He couldn’t. Instead, he just steadied himself against the chair, then against the wall as he stumbled his way to his bunk. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he vaguely realized that he’d shoved his foot so far into his mouth it might have come out the other end, and that he was damned lucky he was that it was Pike and not somebody else. He also wondered if he might have learned a lot more if he’d been able to shut up for two seconds and let Pike talk. However, at the moment, he was barely able to keep his eyes open. He could feel the drug pulling him down, dampening his senses and making everything blurry.

He fell onto his bunk, muttered, “Computer... lights,” and seconds later, was dead to the world.

*********

To Chapter 21

I am not allowed to injure Jim Kirk...

mijan — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 14:25:52 GMT

Why am I not allowed to injure Jim Kirk? Because it comes back to bite me.

I helped caera1996 write/beta "No Good Deed", in which Jim Kirk falls off the roof and dislocates his shoulder.

I was in a relatively minor car accident a couple of weeks ago, just after I helped Caera with that fic. The accident wasn't my fault, but there's about $2,230 in damages to my car, and... as I just found out when the pain got to be too much and I caved and went to see the doctor... my shoulder is separated.

Yeah... I am so not amused.

Fic: "Hiatus" (2/2)

mijan — Sat, 23 Mar 2013 01:13:06 GMT

Title: "Hiatus" (Part 2)
Rating:: NC-17
Word Count: 18,737
Pairing: McCoy/Kirk
Warnings/Temptings: BDSM, bondage, marking, biting, medical kink, Risk-Aware Consensual Kink, public play, D/s, and so on.
Summary: Jim is in over his head with classes and training at the Academy. He needs a break, and he won't take one on his own, so Bones makes him take the hiatus that he needs.

Notes: This fic is part of my Ficathon fundraiser, and was written for treksnoopy and rubymiene. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Link to Part 1

"Hiatus" (Part 2)

Jim felt himself drifting into that faraway place again when someone approached and blocked his view of the play room floor.

“Hey Len... Leonard,” Ted said happily. “Well, would ya look at that? Looks like you’ve got Jim nice and relaxed.”

“He’s enjoying himself,” Bones replied, and Jim could hear the smile in his voice. “Is the room ready?”

Jim blinked and stiffened slightly. He’d almost forgotten about Bones’ earlier conversation with Ted, and something about a private room.

“Sure is. Coded for your thumbprint for access. You two have fun in there.”

“Of course. Thanks, Ted.”

“For you, Leonard? Anytime.”

Jim was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that Bones was favored enough at a private BDSM club that the owner was willing to do personal favors for him, but Bones was already maneuvering Jim upright.

“Come on, kid. I’m not going to make you take out the gag, but it’s time to up and move.” He stood, and pulled Jim to his feet. Jim felt himself wavering, but Bones quickly threaded an arm around his waist to steady him. “Oh yeah, you’re in a good headspace. I’m sorry for almost pulling you out of that. Didn’t realize it would be such a big deal, but I should have known. But don’t worry, kid. We’ve got options. For now, however, let’s move on to the next thing.” He looked around at the other people sharing the alcove with him, and tipped his head in a polite nod as he grabbed his ever-present duffel bag. “Goodnight, gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure. Jim, wave goodnight.”

Jim waved clumsily to a pleasant chorus of farewells, and found himself being steered out of the alcove and to a doorway that he hadn’t noticed before and down a hallway. A moment later, they were going through another door, and...

“Now would be a good time to take a piss, Jim... because you’re not going anywhere for a while once we get started.”

Jim almost laughed at the mundane nature of the order, but he was on autopilot, and it was easy to just follow instructions. They both took a moment to relieve themselves, and then Bones was dragging him back down the hall, past several doors and around a corner. When he finally stopped, he pressed his thumb to a small access panel, and the door slid open.

Jim’s breath caught.

It looked like a strange doctor’s office with an old-fashioned and slightly more sinister-looking biobed in the middle of the room. A dozen disjointed thoughts swam in his head while he stomach did flip-flops. A place like this existed? Bones had always said that he wasn’t the only one with a medical kink, but Jim had never quite believed that he shared that strange obsession with anyone else. But now, looking at this, it was impossible to deny it.

“In ya go,” Bones said, pushing him lightly into the room. “And strip, Jim. I can’t very well treat or examine you with those clothes on.”

Feeling simultaneously nervous and giddy, Jim began pulling off his clothes. Part of his brain was still demanding to ask questions, but that part had been thoroughly gagged, and Jim was pretty satisfied with that. He lined up his boots next to the wall, folded his shirt and pants neatly and placed them on a nearby chair, then intentionally hesitated at his underwear.

“All of it, kid.”

Jim was pretty sure he was just enjoying being told what to do.

The underwear followed the rest of his clothes, and Jim was standing in the middle of a private room in a BDSM club, wearing nothing but a ball gag, while Bones gave him a clinical look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“As much as those pants look incredible on you, I think this is definitely preferable.” Bones shook his head, in amazement or amusement, and laughed lightly. “Okay, Jim... hop up on the bed.”

As nervous as he was excited, Jim did as he was told, and sat with his legs dangling over the side, kicking his feet childishly.

Bones rolled his eyes. “Brat. Lie down.”

Jim waggled his eyebrows, then followed medical direction and settled himself back on the biobed. Bones reached over and tapped a button on the side of the biobed, activating the screen, which already began spitting out basic data like heart rate and blood pressure. Then, Bones stepped back across the room to where he’d left his duffel.

Jim watched as Bones began unbuttoning his own shirt. He was starting to wonder what the hell Bones was doing when the guy pulled a blue scrub top out of the duffel bag and tugged it over his head.

When Bones noticed Jim staring at him, he nodded. “What did you expect, kid? A riding crop and high heels?” He grabbed an old-fashioned stethoscope out of his bag and looped it around his neck.

Despite the gag, Jim started chuckling. No, he was giggling. Giddy and ridiculous and -

“That’s it, you’re obviously delirious,” Bones announced, as he grabbed his ever-present tricorder out of his bag and activated it. “It’s good to see your stress markers have almost come back down to the normal range, although it looks like you’re still a bit antsy. Good overall... but your pulse is higher than it should be, and you’re a bit dehydrated.”

Jim let out a whining noise.

“Oh, don’t worry, the gag is working so well that there’s no way I’d discontinue that treatment. But first... I don’t need you squirming and jumping around while I work.”

Bones was smooth enough that Jim hadn’t even noticed him approaching with the medical restraint. A couple of years of ER work in a major city had given Bones the skills of a medical ninja, and before Jim could blink twice, his left wrist was firmly attached to the side of the biobed.

“That looks pretty good,” Bones mused to himself as he checked for Jim’s pulse below the restraint. “Not too tight.” Then he moved around to the other side of the table.

Jim held out his hand for Bones.

“Well now, aren’t you the most cooperative patient I’ve ever had? Who are you and what did you do with Jim Kirk?” He strapped down Jim’s right wrist, checked for a pulse, and moved around to the foot of the biobed.

Jim merely shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re so happy about. You go and get yourself all beat up, and then just leave it for hard-working doctors like me to fix everything.” Right ankle. “And sometimes, I wonder why I bother. You’re just gonna go break yourself again. But hell, that’s what you Starfleet space cowboy types do, isn’t that right?” Left ankle.

Jim leaned his head back and smiled inwardly. He and Bones hadn’t played nearly as often as he would have liked, but it was often enough that the pattern of restraint application was a familiar ritual.

And then he felt a wide strap being pulled across his stomach and tightened down.

Okay, so that was new.

Bones fastened the strap in place, and Jim arched against it instinctively. He wasn’t trying to get out, but the act of testing the restraints was almost a reflex. He couldn’t move. His torso was firmly fixed to the biobed. If anything, it gave him an even stronger sense of security and mental freedom. That was something he couldn’t have imagined a year ago, but now... it felt so good.

Then, Bones hands were on the ball gag again. Jim let out another high-pitched whine of protest.

“I’m not taking it off, you big baby.”

There was the faint sound of metal clicking against metal near Jim’s left ear, then his right. He tried to turn his head to see what Bones had done, and then he realized that he couldn’t move his head... at all. Bones had clipped the harness of the ball gag to the biobed.

It wasn’t exactly anxiety, because Jim knew he had no real reason to be nervous, and Bones was taking care of him, and that’s what he wanted-needed-craved right now. But... he couldn’t move his head. He’d never been so completely immobilized before. His heart started thudding more heavily in his chest, and he could feel himself breathing just a bit too fast.

“Easy there, Jim.” Bones’ hands were on his shoulders, rubbing and kneading the muscles. “This is good for you. The more control I took away from you tonight, the more you relaxed. The endorphins helped, too. That’s all we’re doing here. And same thing as before... if you need to safeword, use hand signals. Tap the bed three times, and I’ll stop.”

Jim looked up at Bones, and then, slowly, conscientiously let his body relax against the biobed, signalling his agreement.

Bones checked his pulse for a moment, then smiled. “There ya go. Relax. That’s better.” Then, he slid his fingers around and began gently palpating Jim’s neck. “It’s been a while since you had a proper physical, kid, and tricorders can’t tell me everything.”

Jim’s breath quickened slightly. Manual physical? There was no way...

After a moment of feeling every muscle and gland on Jim’s neck, Bones’ hands slid down further, pressing and feeling around Jim’s collarbone. Bones’ attention felt like a physical thing on every point where he touched, intense in its own way. Jim squirmed... or, at least, he tried to. Bones chuckled, then stuck his stethoscope in his ears.

“Breathe, Jim.”

Jim took careful breaths as Bones listened around his chest. The stethoscope was cool but Bones’ gaze was hot.

“Good... very good,” came the clinical report. “That slight arrhythmia from earlier is gone. I’m going to have to strap you down more often. Seems like it’s good for you.”

Jim let out a deep-throated hum as Bones moved on to palpate his abdomen, pressing, exploring, testing. Then, his hand slid down and fingers pressed into the inside of his thigh.

“Femoral pulse, Jim. You know you have pulses all over your body. I should manually test every single one of them on you sometime... one by one.”

Jim was vaguely hoping that sometime meant now, but then Bones’ hands were gone, and there was the sound of Bones digging through the duffel again... then a tight snap. Then another.

Gloves. Exam gloves. He really was going to do it.

Hot damn.

The biobed began moving underneath him. His legs, tied at the ankles to the ends, were spread apart and bent at the knee.

Jim’s breath was definitely increasing.

“Slow down your breathing, Jim. This isn’t going to hurt. You’re going to feel a little bit of pressure.”

Bones’ finger was cool and slick, and it breached Jim’s hole so easily.

Kink play wasn’t always sexual for Jim. Sometimes, the attention was a completely different sort of thing. However, even when it wasn’t sexual, Jim always ended up at least half-hard. He’d been on his way there anyway, just from the restraints and the physical touch he’d been receiving, but as Bones hooked his finger around and pressed firmly and decisively against his prostate, Jim felt himself hardening rapidly. Achingly.

Bones twisted his finger a bit, rubbing his prostate back and forth.

Jim keened. Panted. And if he hadn’t been gagged, his mouth would have followed his brain with a babbling litany of oh God oh God oh God and fuckfuckfuckfuck. He was definitely hard now. Not that it would have been difficult to get there when he was already in a mindset like that, but it was almost overwhelming now. It was the setting, the situation, and Bones, who was adding another finger and hooking it around viciously.

“Your prostate seems pretty healthy,” he said in that clinical tone that seemed so neutral but controlling at the same time. “Good reaction to stimulation.”

Jim was having a hard time breathing, and it felt like he couldn’t get quite enough air through his nose.

“You know, they used to recommend milking the prostate as a therapeutic treatment for various ailments. Maybe I should try that on you, but I think we’re getting enough of a reaction for today.”

Jim moaned wantonly. He felt himself getting tighter at the sound of Bones’ voice.

“Almost too much reaction, actually.” The fingers were gone, and suddenly, something cool and tight slipped around the base of Jim’s cock - the cock ring that Bones sometimes used on him. “That should hold you.”

The whine Jim let out made his own chest vibrate.

“Relax, kid. We’ve got more work to do.”

The biobed moved again, flattening out and bringing Jim’s legs back down as Bones stepped away for a moment. There were more shuffling sounds, and although Jim couldn’t see Bones, he kept trying to picture what the man would dig out before it happened. He had no idea what was in that duffel bag, but he’d seen enough of Bones’ toy collection that his mind was already formulating images, all of which were appealing. Maybe it would be the TENS unit that Bones had used on him when his back was aching after he’d run the academy obstacle course too many times. Maybe Bones would do that nerve conductivity test he’d done once. Jim shuddered at the memory of electrical pulses racing up and down his arms and legs. Maybe Bones would do the same thing to him that he’d done to pip earlier, which would be fucking amazing.

He did not expect to see Bones hang an IV bag from a hook above the biobed. He blinked, then made a noise that, without the ball gag, might have been ”What the fuck?

Bones nodded solemnly as he spiked the bag, straightened out the line, and and filled it with saline. “I started keeping one of these in my play bag whenever I’d come to the club here because some idiot always plays too hard or wraps himself in too much vinyl and rubber and ends up passing out from heat exhaustion or dehydration. You’re not being an idiot, Jim, so don’t worry, but this way, I won’t worry about you dehydrating - because we’ve still got a lot of stuff to do to you - and I don’t want have to discontinue the gag in the middle of it.”

Jim blinked, considering this. Bones sometimes went for intense realism in scenes, but this was sending Jim’s brains in unfamiliar loops.

There was something tightening around his left upper arm, and holy shit, Bones was actually going to do it.

He could tap out, but that would stop everything. He could let Bones take off the ball gag and just drink the damned water, but that would break the strange spell that had settled over him. Besides, Bones had turned him into a pincushion plenty of times. And... not having the brainpower to be anything but honest with himself... he just wanted to let Bones do whatever he wanted.

“You okay, Jim?”

Jim made a sound behind the gag that would have been “Mmm-hmm.”

“Good, kid.” Bones’ fingers were pressing and tapping different spots along his hand and forearm. “There, this one looks pretty good,” he said as his fingers came to rest on one spot, prodding gently.

There was the familiar tingle of a sterilizer unit, then the sound of a wrapper being pulled apart. Bones’ hands were back on his forearm, just above his wrist and the restraint. His fingers were firm and confident, and that sensation alone caused a heady buzz in Jim’s brain. “I’d tell you to hold still, but I think we’ve got that covered.”

The world narrowed to the bite of the needle and catheter piercing his skin and sliding into his vein. Jim had often tried to analyze why the sensation had such a strong effect on him. Part of it had to be simple masochism - the pain and the endorphins were intoxicating. Some of it was the feeling of being penetrated in such an invasive way. But mostly, the lack of control he had over it once it was in his arm was both terrifying and appealing at once.

When he’d been stuck in the hospital after the shuttle crash, the IV line they had him on had felt like a tether, keeping his restrained to the biobed. Now, with the multiple restraints already in place, the effect was even more intense. He was lying there, with Bones doing things to him, and he had no control except the simple decision to stop everything, but he didn’t want to, and it was okay. Bones was taking care of him. Bones was treating all the things that needed to be treated. He could just lay there and take it, and let these things happen to him because it was Bones, and everything would be fine.

Bones was fiddling with his arm just a bit more, and he could see the plastic tubing move as Bones attached it to his arm and taped it in place. Bones stood up and adjusted the flow rate, and Jim watched, oddly mesmerized as the drip chamber at the top counted out the rate of the fluid flowing into his veins.

It was hypnotic, and Jim felt his brain slow down, just a little bit more.

He blinked in surprise when Bones came around and pressed an adhesive strip to his forehead. It felt as though it had tiny teeth, digging lightly into his scalp.

“This is a neuro sensor,” Bones explained in his unwavering, clinical tone. “It will measure your brainwaves and tell me how deep you’re going into subspace. There are changes that take place once you really start slipping into it. You’re already partially there. Don’t fight it, Jim. Just let it happen.”

Of course he’d let it happen. It was so easy to just listen. So easy to just go along with it. So comforting. Soothing.

Jim’s head was strangely fuzzy, and even though he knew Bones hadn’t drugged him in any way, because Bones wouldn’t do that without telling him, he could almost let himself believe that there was something in the IV that was altering his perceptions. He felt strange and disconnected, but hyperaware and hypersensitive all at once. His body was vibrantly alive but completely still, and his mind was beginning to follow suit.

He’d experienced sub-space before, but this was taking him deeper. He was teetering on the edge of a drop, and he wasn’t afraid to fall. Bones would catch him.

“That’s good, Jim. That’s really good.” Bones’ fingers were on the pulse in his wrist, warm and comforting. Then he pulled away and stepped out of Jim’s range of vision. “Now, you’ve been putting yourself through some rough stuff lately, we’re going to do some neurological testing and stimulation.”

Jim listened intently, as if his ears could somehow deduce what Bones was pulling out of the bag. He couldn’t turn his head. His entire range of vision was the ceiling, the IV bag, and the edge of the biobed monitor.

Bones’ face came into view, and he held up something that Jim had never seen before. It was a small, metal instrument. It had a slender handle no longer than a PADD stylus, but at the end was a thin wheel, edged with vicious-looking spikes.

Jim felt his breath quicken just a bit.

“This is something a bit new for you. It’s called a Wartenberg wheel. They’re used to test nerve sensitivity. It’s an ancient medical device that’s still used today because it’s effective. So, first, we’re going to test your nerve sensitivity.”

Test... nerve sensitivity? Jim’s brain was running a bit slow.

Bones nodded at him, and then, there was something delicate and sharp tracing along the left side of Jim’s jawline.

Jim gasped through his nose as the exquisite thread of sharpness continued to roll up under his jaw towards his ear, then down his neck. It prickled delicately along his collarbone from left to right, and despite the fact that it was obvious that Bones wasn’t pressing it very hard, the pinprick sensation from each spike was bright and sharp. It felt like a line was being lightly traced in his skin. It almost tickled, but in no way could the sensation actually feel like a tickle.

The wheel moved up the right side of Jim’s neck, then back down along that side of his jaw. Then, with Bones’ attention focused razor-sharp, he traced the wheel down the front of Jim’s neck, over his larynx, through the hollow at the base of his neck, and down his sternum. It stopped at the base of his breastbone. Then, Bones began drawing it along the bottom edge of his ribcage, down and to the left. The skin along there was more sensitive than Jim expected, and he instinctively tried to squirm away from it, but the strap across his stomach had almost no give. All he could do was pant and shiver as Bones traced the wheel back up from the left and then drew it down along the bottom of his lowest right rib.

It almost felt like he was being carefully dissected. The Wartenberg wheel was like a scalpel in Bones’ hands, tracing muscles and curves, carving the outlines of vital living tissues. Bones’ focus was absolute, and the wheel was rolling faster now so that the individual pinpricks blended together. The pressure was more firm now. It tickled, but it didn’t. If Jim hadn’t known better, he might almost believe that it was a blade, actually slicing through his skin, except that the pain disappeared after the wheel passed. Where it met his skin, however, felt like an icy-hot line of sharpness, cutting everything else away.

Bones ran the wheel over the curve of his left hip, then down towards his groin. Jim couldn’t hold back the tight noise that built in his throat, and desperately tried to squirm against his restraints, but Bones merely planted one hand firmly on his hip as he drew the wheel down the inside of Jim’s left leg.

By the time the wheel began carving its way up the inside of Jim’s right leg, he was a mess, and he knew it. The wheel was suddenly everywhere - across his stomach, down the curve of his obliques, up towards his armpit, over his deltoid, down his neck again, over his chest, across his nipple...

Jim clenched his teeth tighter around the ball in his mouth, and he couldn’t hold back the high-pitched noise that escaped his throat.

“Mmm... you like that, do you?” Bones hummed as he ran the wheel over the other nipple.

Jim squeaked behind the gag.

Bones merely chuckled lightly, then dove right back into driving Jim out of his mind. The sensation was so unique, he didn’t know how to process it. It was sharp and intense and cutting and tickling and everywhere. He couldn’t think. His body was straining against the restraints and going absolutely nowhere. The wheel was on his chest, then his leg, up the insteps of his feet, and underneath the gag, Jim was laughing and gasping and whimpering and moaning all at once, and -

It stopped.

Panting hard, Jim blinked a few times and Bones’ face came into focus above his.

“There you go, Jim. Easy now. Breathe for a moment. We’re just getting you warmed up.” Bones’ hand, warm and soft, cradled Jim’s cheek. His thumb gently stroked along his cheekbone. “That was good, Jim. Really good. We’re going to change it up a bit, now.”

Bones held up an instrument that looked like a ridiculously tiny cane. It couldn’t have been much more than 20 centimeters long, and if Jim had to guess, it was probably a carbon fiber filament of some sort. “This thing has a few names, and while it’s not standard medical treatment, it’s excellent for inducing endorphin release. Colloquially, they call it an evil stick.”

Jim felt his analytical brain trying to kick in, just a little bit. A tiny tool like that? Evil? What was Bones going to do with it? Poke? Scratch? There was no way that little thing could inflict anything that would induce an endorphin rush.

“That’s no good, Jim. You’re thinking again. So... before we get started with this, it’s time to shut off some more of your higher cognition.” Bones pulled something small out of a pocket of his scrub top, and reached for Jim’s head.

There was pressure in his right ear, and then his left, and... ear plugs. Jim blinked a few times, staring at the narrow view afforded to him by his precarious position. He’d been relying on the sound of Bones’ footsteps, the shuffling noises he made, and other little cues to anticipate and predict what was happening. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it until that entire sensory input was gone.

There was a brief flash of worry, but Jim forced himself to take a slow, calming breath. Whatever Bones had in mind, it was okay. He could do this. Bones reached down and rubbed Jim’s shoulder for a moment reassuringly. He stepped back and took a moment to check the IV bag, adjusted something, and then stepped around to Jim’s right side.

Jim tried to look down to see what Bones was doing, but then Bones’ hand was reaching for his face, gently guiding his eyelids shut. Jim left them shut for a moment, feeling oddly detached. He was floating a bit, but not entirely. He blinked his eyes open, but now, he didn’t feel inclined to peek at Bones. He let his gaze drift at the ceiling.

A suddenly snapping sensation across his right pectoral muscle shocked his eyes wide open. A split second after the snap, the burn started. Instead of fading, the burn intensified, almost like the burn after a cane had... shit.

Jim could picture it now. He didn’t even need to see what Bones was doing. He was holding the carbon filament flat against his skin, then drawing it back and then letting it snap down, and the burn was the welt that was raising up. And damn, did it burn... and then there was a second snap, not far from the first one.

He arched against the restraints as the second burn set in. He breathed as deeply and slowly as he could, waiting for the burn to fade, but it was barely fading... not quickly enough... and then there was a third snap. The burn was building across his chest, radiating from all three points and blurring together. The first one might have been fading, but not enough. Everything was intensifying together.

A fourth snap.

Jim keened against his gag and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t usually like stingy sensations, and this was fucking intense. The sting and the burn and -

A fifth snap.

Jim was panting. He wanted to writhe and twist away from the fire that was spreading across his chest, but he couldn’t move.

Six.

Couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t... couldn’t...

Seven.

Eight.

A low, desperate sob escaped him. He wanted to brace against the next one, but he couldn’t even do that. He was straining against the restraints, shivering and burning at once, waiting for the next snap to come.

The next touch, however, wasn’t a snap, but Bones’ hand pressing firmly against his chest, rubbing, soothing. The heat of his hand both intensified and eased the burn, and Jim felt himself shaking in relief. A hand cupped his cheek, and a thumb wiped moisture away from his eyes. The stinging burn of his chest was morphing into a strange heat, and Jim realized that he could feel the edges of that elusive endorphin high that he’d only achieved a few times at Bones’ hands.

The hand on his cheek went to his ear, and the ear plug was gently pulled away.

“Hey Jim, look at me, okay?”

Jim blinked his eyes open, hardly realizing that he’d had them squeezed shut.

“There ya go. This part is a little bit intense, but I know you can take it. It’s going to help, I promise. You know you can tell me to stop, but I don’t think you want to.”

Jim made a sound that he hoped Bones interpreted as agreement.

Bones smiled at him, then pulled his hands away.

A moment later, Jim felt something pressed against the inside of his right forearm, and he heard a faint click. There might have been a tiny pinprick.

“Oh yeah, that’s much better,” Bones said with satisfaction. “Jim, your endorphin levels are looking great, and your stress markers are down even more. Hang in there for just a little while longer, and this will really start to work.”

Jim hummed a sound of agreement again, and Bones squeezed his shoulder. A second later, the earplug was being replaced, and the world went silent again.

The burn across the right side of Jim’s chest was hot and tingling, but the pain wasn’t the same as it was a moment ago. It seemed to have deepened somehow, sinking into his muscles and spreading oddly pleasant sensations through his body.

At the same time, now that he was back in his cocoon of silence, his awareness of his own body sharpened. He’d never been restrained so fully in his life, and he was acutely aware of every point where his body was attached to the biobed. He took a moment and tried to flex against the restraints one at a time - ankles and wrists, torso, and finally his head. The sensation of having his head restrained was new and bizarre, but being unable to speak or move in such a profound way had given him a mental freedom he’d never experienced before. Now, with the strange buzz starting to spread through his body, it seemed as though something was shifting in his mind.

He felt Bones’ hands on the other side of his chest, and there was a sudden snap against his skin. He twitched and gasped. The burn followed, but the vicious edge never came.

Another snap near that one. Burn. Heat. Tingling. Gasping and writhing.

It was pain, but it wasn’t the same as before. The heat spread as Bones moved along, leaving what Jim imagined was an intricate pattern of slender welts across his chest.

The buzz in Jim’s head simultaneously intensified and muted. He was floating in a strange world, held up by heat and pain and pleasure. The gasping turned into moaning. Nothing existed beyond the snap-burn of the tool in Bones’ hands, the table beneath his back, and the restraints tethering him to reality.

Every so often, Bones would stop using the tool, and his hands would connect with Jim’s skin, rubbing, kneading, gripping, and digging into the already beautiful ache, spreading the delicious burn deeper. He worked his way down Jim’s arms, the right, then the left. Jim swore his arms were floating away from his body.

Bones continued down Jim’s thighs, a few snaps on the right, then a few on the left, back and forth. He stopped just above the knees, then his hands were back, working the skin and muscle of Jim’s thighs before running his hands back up his torso, chest, shoulders, neck... and gently pressed two fingers against Jim’s pulse.

Jim opened his eyes to see Bones looking down at him, appearing decidedly satisfied. It matched how Jim felt. His whole body was burning with soft fire, hot but not painful. The table felt as though it was rocking gently beneath him, and the air itself seemed to tingle against his skin. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that Bones had drugged him, but this was too natural, too right, to be something from a hypospray.

Bones’ hands pulled away, and a moment later, he was waving a tricorder probe around Jim’s head. Jim watched as the tricorder disappeared, and Bones moved around him. He felt something pressed against his arm again, followed by a tiny flicker of a pinprick, and saw Bones studying the screen of that small biochemical sensor decide.

A broad smile blossomed across Bones’ face, and he reached over and removed Jim’s ear plugs. “You did great, Jim. Your endorphin levels are as high as I’ve ever seen them, and that neuro monitor I stuck on you is telling me that you’re progressing very well. But we’re not quite done. Last part.”

Jim whimpered. Last part? He didn’t want it to be over. He was floating. His mind had stopped racing circles, and everything was quiet in his head. He wanted the silence to last. He wanted the earplugs and the restraints and the gag and...

Bones slipped the earplug back into place, and ran his hand softly across Jim’s cheek.

Jim didn’t bother trying to hold back the sigh that escaped him. He watched distantly as Bones moved around, and he guessed that the guy was digging into the duffel again when he ducked out of sight. This time, Jim didn’t even care to guess what he was doing. Whatever it was, it would be good. He could trust that.

He could always trust that.

Bones came back into view, but not for long, as something dark fell across Jim’s vision. It was completely opaque, and soft, and snug... and it actually took Jim a moment to realize that he was being blindfolded. Bones’ hands were gentle as he settled the blindfold into place, and Jim felt warm fingers caressing his cheeks, stroking his hair, and letting him know that even though he couldn’t see him, Bones was still there.

Some instinctive part of his brain wanted to protest or panic. He needed to be able to see! If he couldn’t see, he wouldn’t know what was going on, and he couldn’t... nothing. He didn’t need to be able to see because he didn’t need to know what was going on. He didn’t have to do anything.

And that was the point.

He could float in the darkness and silence, feeling the way his body tingled and vibrated with the echoes of the evil stick’s bite all over his skin, relaxing under Bones’ touch, and he didn’t have to do anything.

His mind was beautifully blank - just a canvas for sensation and emotion, painted with sharp tools and strong restraints.

Bones’ hands drifted away, and Jim was alone. Darkness and silence, but it wasn’t terrifying, and he wasn’t really alone. It was peaceful.

And then... something cool and smooth touched his shoulder. It wasn’t skin, it wasn’t sharp, and it wasn’t metallic. Maybe... glass? Or...

It didn’t matter. He’d find out if he was meant to find out.

The object moved down his arm and back up again, then traced across his chest and down the other arm. It was a gentle touch, cool and soothing across his abused skin. Back up to his chest, and down across his stomach, weaving lazy loops. It traced his groin, reminding Jim with a flicker of desire, that he was still wearing a cock ring, and - shit, maybe it was a plug or a dildo. But the object kept moving downwards, stroking the inside of one leg, then the other, before coming back up.

Jim was confused, but passive. Whatever would come...

Then, against his chest, the object began to tingle slightly. It might have been his imagination, but it almost felt like a faint buzz of electricity. Maybe a bit like the static electricity around a fully charged forcefield, but more focused, almost delicate.

The tingling sensation continued as the object moved all over his body, tracing almost the same route as before. When it came back up to his chest, there was a pause, and then...

Jim felt himself twitch as the intensity shot up. No longer a faint, tingling buzz, this was a full-on sting of electricity against his skin. He couldn’t hear it, but he imagined it was crackling and sparking. It wasn’t too strong, but it washed over the aching welts from the previous round, bringing them back to life.

Jim moaned at the sensation, even as he twitched and squirmed against his restraints. As it traced up the inside of his leg, he desperately tried to thrust his hips, but he couldn’t move. After almost entirely forgetting about any sense of sexual arousal, the tingling of electricity was doing something completely unexpected.

Bones moved the object across Jim’s hips, and Jim let out a tight keening noise. A sensation like this shouldn’t be arousing, but God damn it, it was. Even as it moved away from his groin, it felt like there was still a direct connection between that buzzing spark of electricity and his cock.

The object returned to Jim’s chest, and suddenly, it was everything short of overwhelming. The intensity cranked up, and it was fire and ice and stinging and sensual and - Jim couldn’t even think of what it was. Darkness and silence and electricity and Bones controlling all of it.

There was the tangy scent of ozone in his nostrils, and the incredible buzz and burn of the electricity was everywhere at once - down the inside of his arm, across his nipples, over his stomach, up the inside of his thigh. Jim’s mind couldn’t keep up with it, and it didn’t matter. Everything followed that cracking, sparking sensation as it ran over and through him. Time didn’t exist. Nothing else existed. His body was alive and shivering and vibrating and writhing with pleasure.

Suddenly, there was something warm and all-too-human wrapping around his cock. Bones’ hand, but Jim was beyond the ability to even identify it. It was good and it was hot.

The strange electrical object was still moving along his body, and now, Jim’s frayed attention was split between the intensity of the electricity crackling over his skin, and the feeling of skin and friction against his cock... but why should he need to pay attention to both? It was the same thing, a bright and brilliant burn reaching through to his core. Everything was hot and tight, and tighter... tight restraints, tight skin, tight squeeze, tight breath rushing in his lungs.

For a moment, the rhythm shifted, and something came undone, but then it was building again, so strong... so much... so much...

Even behind the blindfold, light burst against Jim’s retinas. Distantly, he felt his body clenching and shaking, and he was coming, but that was the least of the sensations flooding him. He was so alive, and nothing else mattered except that moment, that place, that experience.

And then... it started to subside. The sensation of the electricity was dimming and fading, and then it stopped altogether. Bones’ hand was no longer on his cock, but was instead rubbing him gently all over. It was a grounding sensation, keeping him connected even though it felt as if his body was going to float away.

The hands moved up his body, and one rested against his neck, feeling for his pulse. The other slid the blindfold off from Jim’s eyes.

Jim squinted against the anticipated brightness of the room, but to his surprise, the lights were dimmer than before. Bones was looking down at him, wearing a deeply satisfied expression. He pulled out one earplug, then the other. “Well, you look like you’re feeling a bit better.”

Even without the gag, Jim wouldn’t have been able to give a reply beyond the low hum in his throat.

“Yeah,” Bones said. “You’re feeling better. Let’s get you off the table and into recovery.”

Bones unclipped the head harness from the table, but made no move to take off the gag. Jim could move his head again, though, and he watched as Bones began moving around him, releasing the medical restraints from each limb and rubbing the skin underneath. It was part of their ritual when they finished a scene - the transition to aftercare. The feel of Bones rubbing his wrists and ankles, checking the pulses on each extremity, was intensely caring and personal.

As he watched Bones, Jim finally got a good look at the damage to his skin. It was just as he’d imagined, only more striking. Bones had created a pattern of tiny welts all over his body. They still tingled, but the burn was a faint and heady thing now, making him feel wrapped in sensation.

“You seem pleased with the effects of my handiwork,” Bones said mildly as he reached up to unfasten the strap across Jim’s stomach.

Jim nodded.

“They should mostly fade by Monday, but I can heal them if you want.”

Jim shook his head.

“Didn’t think so.” Bones ducked down and reached into his duffel, then came up with a piece of gauze and a roll of medical tape. “Let’s get that thing out of your arm. Hold still for just another minute here.”

Jim watched with detached fascination as Bones sealed off the IV line and then peeled back the tape around the catheter in his forearm. With a single confident movement, Bones pressed the gauze pad against the site and slid the catheter smoothly out of his arm. He taped the gauze down and held pressure against it for a moment. Jim sighed at the sensation of Bones’ fingers pressing firmly against the faint ache the IV had left. A moment later, Bones released pressure, then pulled the bag off the hook. The bag was empty, and Jim vaguely wondered how long he’d really been on the table. He honestly had no idea.

Time had lost its meaning. Maybe that was the point.

Jim closed his eyes and let himself drift - an island of stillness in the middle of a tumultuous sea. Time was grinding and howling on outside of the room, but in that space, it was silent. Along with time itself, Jim’s mind was motionless.

A soft sound caused Jim to open his eyes, and he saw that Bones was leaning over him again.

“Ready to get up?”

Jim held out his hand and let Bones gently pull him upright. He slid off the biobed at Bones’ prompting, and stumbled briefly until Bones steadied him with an arm around his waist. Automatically, Jim rested his arm across Bones’ shoulders, and then let himself be led across the small room. Bones pulled back an old-fashioned privacy curtain to reveal a cot.

Bones lowered Jim onto the cot, then crouched down in front of him. This time, when Bones’ hands went for the buckle on the side of the ball gag harness, Jim didn’t resist. His mind was quiet, and removing the gag was okay now. He felt strangely naked and exposed as the harness fell away from his head and the ball slipped out of his mouth, but he could be naked and exposed in front of Bones. It was okay.

“There ya go, Jim. Here, have a sip of this.”

There was a straw in front of Jim’s mouth, and he automatically took a sip, recognizing the taste of the vitamin and electrolyte drink that Bones usually gave him after a scene. He slowly sipped at it until Bones pulled the straw away.

“That’s enough for now, kid. Here... lie down.”

Hands guided Jim down until his head sank into a soft pillow, and he closed his eyes as a blanket was draped over him. Everything around him was soft and warm, and his mind was fuzzy and blank at once. His skin still tingled all over, and the ache from the welts all over his skin was still feeding the strange buzz that had overtaken his senses.

His body was sated and his mind was quiet. Vaguely, he thought that he should thank Bones, but he didn’t feel like speaking. Words seemed foreign and distant to him. Instead, he reached a hand out from underneath the blanket and groped around until he found Bones’ hand.

Fingers wrapped around his own, and Jim opened one eye to see Bones smiling at him.

“Just rest for a while, kid. Take a nap. Let yourself recover. Ted gave us the room for the rest of the night, so don’t worry about needing to leave.”

Jim hummed a questioning note. He wasn’t sure what he meant by it, but he trusted Bones to figure out what he needed to know.

“It’s okay, Jim. I’m here, and I’m not leaving. I’ve got you.” He reached over and rested his hand on Jim’s shoulder. The weight of his hand was reassuring and comforting, almost like an echo of the restraints that had tethered him to the biobed only moments ago.

Jim sighed and closed his eyes again.

“Just relax,” Bones said softly. “There’s nothing you need to do right now. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

It was the easiest thing in the world to simply do as Bones told him. Sleep. That was all he needed to do. So simple. Tomorrow, he had work to do, but tonight, all he needed to do was to listen to Bones.

As Jim drifted off, he thought Bones might have still been talking to him, but the words blurred incoherently in his mind. There were fingers carding through his hair, but nothing else moved.

Outside the room, the world went on without him. Under Bones’ watchful eye, Jim slept soundly.

~FIN~