ST XI Fiction: Muscle Memory, Part 2
Title: Muscle Memory, Part 2
Author: Caera1996
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Please. Is this even necessary?
Summary: Kirk, Spock and McCoy continue to deal with Jim’s post traumatic reaction to Spock while the relationship between Kirk and McCoy develops.
Note: This started as a reply to a prompt on the kink meme that can be found here: community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/5274.html
Note 2: Muscle Memory, Part 1 can be found here: caera1996.livejournal.com/2269.html#cutid1 You don’t necessarily have to read that one first, but this will make more sense if you do.
“This is highly illogical,” Spock said. He was observing the two humans in front of him with more than a little skepticism, hands clasped slightly more tightly behind his back than usual. He was attending a meeting regarding the captain’s treatment for post traumatic stress in relation to his actions during the Narada incident at the request of the doctor, and though he would not have admitted to being uncomfortable, he failed to see the logic or purpose in what he was being asked to do, and continued to believe simply transferring was the more logical course of action.
Jim, who was perched on the edge of the doctor’s desk smiled slightly as the doctor heaved a long-suffering sigh.
“Nothing about this is logical, Spock. Humans tend to internalize traumatic events. Sometimes that results in reactions like Jim had the other day, even if they aren’t actively worrying or thinking about something. Your mama was human…didn’t you ever see her react as if expecting something unpleasant or surprising to happen again that happened before? It doesn’t have to be anything big, but something that made an impression on her that would show itself every now and then for a while?”
Spock frowned slightly and thought about that. Though his mother lived on Vulcan for several years and was familiar with the varied flora and fauna, he did remember her once reacting with fright to one of the native insects that had made a home for itself in her flowerbeds. Her scream had Spock hurrying out to her, and he’d dispatched the offending and potentially dangerous arthropod quickly. It was a period of several weeks before she could go near that particular area without flinching, despite the fact that she’d witnessed the extermination of the creature.
“Yes,” he said. Both the captain and the doctor looked at him expectantly, as if waiting him to continue.
“Right,” the doctor said after a moment. “Well, then that’s the basic idea. Like Jim said, he knows he’s in no danger from you, but his body reacted with the stress of the original situation. So, no. It’s not logical. But this is necessary.”
“Spock, I know it’s stupid. Trust me…I feel really stupid. But Bones thinks it’ll work, so…” Jim trailed off, shrugging a shoulder. He let his gaze slip from Spock’s to study a point on the floor somewhere near his feet. “Will you work with us? Please?”
Spock regarded the captain and the doctor. He was truly baffled by Jim’s insistence in keeping him as part of the Enterprise crew. He thought it had more to do with the elder Spock than him, and while that did not appear to be a sound basis for an on-going professional relationship, this man had saved all of them, more than once. What he was asking of Spock, though illogical and unlikely to be effective, was a minor imposition.
“Yes,” he replied. “Please send me the scheduled times for the sessions. I assume they will take place here?”
“That’s right,” McCoy replied. Spock nodded.
“Then if that will be all, Captain, Doctor,” Spock nodded to each of them and took his leave. Once the door to the doctor’s office slid shut, Jim moved to take a seat in one of the chairs. McCoy watched him rub a hand over his face, and noted that he seemed more subdued than usual.
“You okay Jim?” he asked.
“Yeah - just tired. It’s been a week.” McCoy grunted his agreement. Between the negotiations, culminating in the events at the dinner that had made this meeting necessary, the regular pulls on his time to handle the every-day duties of a ship’s captain, and the stress of knowing that more than a few high-ups at Starfleet were just waiting to see if the youngest captain in history was going to screw up, McCoy could imagine that “just tired” was more than a bit of an understatement. Jim sighed and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.
“This going in my file, Bones?” Jim asked quietly. McCoy eyed him, though Jim was avoiding looking at him. This was something that had kept McCoy up these last few days. Technically, this absolutely should go in Jim’s file, complete with report to Starfleet, counseling with someone from Starfleet Psych, and, almost definitely, Spock’s mandatory transfer. A Captain had to be able to trust and work with his First Officer in all situations. If McCoy did put this in his file, Jim’s treatment would be out of his hands, and more than likely, unsuccessful. Not because McCoy fancied himself any great therapist. He was a medical doctor first, damnit. But because he knew Jim. And he knew that if someone else was to try to take over his care, physical or otherwise, Jim would shut down. He just didn’t trust anyone else like he trusted McCoy. Not to mention the fact that some of those vultures in Starfleet would twist this minor hiccup into proof of incompetence, if given half the chance. Likely, Jim had thought of all of this already.
“No. Not now. I think this will work…so, we’ll see. We’ll try this and we’ll see what happens. And we’ll go from there.”
Jim was obviously relieved at this news, his body relaxing from the tension that had held his shoulders tight.
“Thanks,” he said quietly. Then, “I think I’m going to have dinner in my quarters tonight. Wanna join me?” Bones tossed a padd on his desk and leaned back, stretching.
“I gotta ton of work, Jim.”
“So bring it. I’ve got three separate reports to finish about the meetings with the Kailri’ia.”
“What are you going to say about the, uh, incident?” McCoy asked curiously.
Jim shrugged. “Haven’t figured it out yet. Why do you think they’re not finished? So, dinner and work?”
“Sure.”
Jim got up and slapped him on the shoulder, “Great. See ya.”
Shaking his head, McCoy set about gathering his things to bring with him. He was happy for this chance to spend some time with Jim alone. Truth be told, and McCoy was nothing if not truthful, he missed him. Between their responsibilities on the ship, there just wasn’t a lot of time to simply be in each other’s company. They were always together at the Academy, and developed a strong friendship - almost despite McCoy; Jim was really the one who’d developed the friendship. Now, though, things were much more two-sided, and something else was developing. What, he had no idea. And it was…unsettling. To say the least.
* * *
“We’re all set to go. The system is designed to monitor some key biological stress markers. If any of them read high a tone will sound, and we’ll work on bringing it under control,” McCoy explained. He looked over at Jim and Spock. Jim was seated, Spock stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back. “Okay, Spock. Whenever you’re ready.”
Jim looked at Spock expectantly, who had made no move closer to him, or looked as if he were going to either.
“Anytime,” McCoy prompted again.
Jim looked carefully at the Vulcan standing stiffly (well, stiffer than usual) in the center of the room. His face was impassive, but he still looked…off.
“I find this exercise to be fallacious. The captain’s response--”
“Jim,” he interrupted, suppressing a smile as Spock pressed his lips together in whatever the Vulcan equivalence of annoyance was.
“Jim’s response will be mitigated by the mere expectation of my actions,” Spock said. “Furthermore, the conditions under which his stress reaction took place undoubtedly included other factors, such as lack of adequate sleep to meet the needs of a human male, and internal factors regarding his state of mind that cannot be adequately reconstructed in such--”
“Okay, Spock. I get it.” McCoy interrupted. “You don’t think it’s going to work. We’re doing it anyway.”
“Wait a minute, Bones,” Jim said. “Do you have another idea Spock?”
“Yes,” he paused. “It is an…unorthodox…course of action.”
“Well, let’s hear it,” Jim said, glancing at McCoy. He looked less than happy.
“I propose a mind meld.”
Well, not what I was expecting, Jim thought. McCoy spoke before Jim could respond.
“What?” He fairly shouted. “Have you lost your Vulcan senses? Why would Jim subject himself to something so invasive again? Absolutely not.”
“Doctor, your concern is misguided. I believe I would be able to focus my attention on those specific memories that are causing subconscious distress. It would be only as invasive as necessary for that single purpose. And, with all due respect, I do not believe it is a decision you can make for the captain.”
Oh, that was the wrong thing to say, Jim thought as McCoy’s face arranged itself into a furious expression. Before he could start yelling, which would inevitably end with Spock refusing to work with McCoy while he was so “highly emotional” and McCoy insulting Spock’s heritage, he’d made his decision.
“Bones…” he said quietly, effectively halting the tirade that he knew was brewing. “Spock, I really, really appreciate that you are willing to do that for me, but I think I’m going to decline for now. If you’re still okay with it, let’s try Bones’ plan first.”
Spock inclined his head. “As you wish.”
* * *
“Jim…not that I disagree in the slightest, but why did you decide against the mind meld?” McCoy asked later while they were again in Jim’s quarters. It was late, and they each had been working quietly, McCoy at the table and Jim on the floor, back against the couch. Jim looked up to where McCoy was sitting and tilted his head slightly, studying his friend. McCoy resisted the urge to fidget under that intelligent gaze, wondering what Jim was using his genius brain to puzzle out. He turned back to the padd in his hands, not really seeing it.
“The mind meld with the other Spock…it was…really intense. There was a lot of emotion there. No, really,” he said, glancing up when McCoy made a noise of disbelief. “I mean, he’d just lost his planet, he was stranded, in the wrong universe…can you even imagine? The despair, the sense of powerlessness…it was,” he paused, thinking back to that moment in the cave. “It was overwhelming.”
McCoy stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt. This was the most Jim had ever spoken on the subject.
“And then,” Jim continued after a moment, voice quiet and uncharacteristically tentative. “When he saw me, he just…” Jim swallowed and shook his head. This, he couldn’t understand, and found it nearly impossible to put into words. “Hope - I guess, is the best way to describe it…and, and love…I think.” He felt himself flush uncomfortably, and glanced up at McCoy again. He blew out a breath. “But not for me. For the Kirk he’d known, spent a lifetime with. I don’t know, Bones. I can’t really explain it. I-I can’t even really imagine it. I just...didn't want all of that just out there.” Jim stopped, shaking his head slightly.
McCoy felt his heart clench at the expression on his face. He really doesn’t know how important he is to us…to me. Leaving his work on the table, McCoy moved to settle himself beside Jim on the floor. They sat shoulder to shoulder, and Jim let his weight lean against McCoy. He sighed, and closed his eyes. McCoy studied him. He looked so much younger in these moments. And he looked exhausted.
“You’re not sleeping are you?” McCoy asked. “It’s not just this last week.” Jim gave a one-shouldered shrug.
“Probably not as well as I could,” he admitted.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“What could you do? You know I won’t take anything.” McCoy rolled his eyes. That was an ongoing point of contention between the two of them. Jim always refused sleep aids, saying they affected him differently, and he needed to be able to be awake and alert at the drop of a hat. Despite McCoy’s insistence that, if anything, Jim would metabolize them faster, he never gave in.
“Well, it’s late,” McCoy said. “I’d better go. We both need to sleep.”
He pushed himself up, and Jim followed.
“You…you could stay,” Jim said quietly. McCoy turned to look at him, eyebrow raised.
“What?”
“Stay,” he said again, more sure this time. “We’ve crashed together before…this bed’s bigger than the ones at the Academy.” He paused. “Neither of us have Alpha shift tomorrow, so why not?”
“Jim…” McCoy said, sinking back down on the couch, elbows braced on his knees. “What are we doing?” Jim sat beside him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what is this? What…what do you want?” Jim looked slightly taken aback. Not that McCoy blamed him. It’s not like he planned to have this conversation tonight. Or ever. But, never one to back down, Jim smiled gamely.
“I guess…I guess I want whatever you want to give,” Jim replied. McCoy shifted uncomfortably. It was his turn to keep his eyes on the ground. He just didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he wanted. The only serious relationship he’d ever had was with his ex, and he’d never considered a relationship with a man before. After a moment, he felt Jim shift on the couch next to him. “Too much?” he asked.
“No,” McCoy replied. “I…it’s pretty obvious that this is more than just a friendship.”
“Does that freak you out?” Jim asked. McCoy looked up at him. There was no recrimination, hurt, or anger in that blue gaze…just understanding and affection.
McCoy hesitated. “No,” he answered honestly. “It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve done the relationship thing,” Jim smiled.
“Well, all I’m interested in tonight is a solid relationship with my pillow. I’m going to try to sleep. You are welcome to stay. Always. We can figure out the rest later.”
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This is the first time I've ever written Spock in any extended role. Any suggestions or critiques? As always, all critiques are truly appreciated!