Alien Anatomy, Part Two
Part One
5.
This is the third time Spock has accompanied Uhura to the local drinking establishment.
They are seated in the back of the room at one of the few tables. Uhura has had several drinks and is now talking about Jim Kirk.
“What an arrogant asshole.” She sets her glass down a little too hard and some of it spills. Spock wipes it up with a red paper napkin. “He thinks he can have whatever he wants whenever he wants it. Well, he is not getting any of this.”
She makes an aggravated noise and gestures towards herself and then towards Kirk who is in the middle of the room playing pool. He has his arms wrapped around an Orion woman who is currently playing the game. Spock recognizes her as one of the few other non-humans currently enrolled in Starfleet.
She plays poorly. Spocks thinks that perhaps it would be easier to be successful at billiards without a humanoid clinging to your back. But based on her laughter, she is either not bothered by Kirk or not interested in winning the game.
Spock observes the majority of the Starfleet Cadets present gradually becoming inebriated, leading to a loss of inhibition and an increase in volume and emotion. Spock can feel the buzz of it against the skin on his neck and face.
He expends a significant effort each day to ensure that such a lapse never occurs. It is inexplicable to him that these Terrans not only willingly participate but seem to find so much joy in the loss of control.
He pays attention to Uhura, covers her tab, and buys her a bottle of water. He thinks that there seems to be a sort of underlying sexism in the assumption that human females are not able to procure their own alcohol, however, based on his observations, this seems to be the standard practice.
While he listens to Uhura talk, he occasionally glances up to observe Kirk.
When he bends over the table his shoulders pull at his shirt, revealing skin on his back and stomach. After winning one of the games he leans into the man standing next to him and connects his mouth to the other cadet’s. Kirk’s arm is still around the Orion woman. Everyone around them is laughing. Spock feels his ears burn and he is glad that the bar is too dark for Uhura to notice his blush.
Their tongues touch. This is an illogical and unhygienic display of affection.
Spock can not seem to look away.
*
The fight breaks out as Uhura and Spock are preparing to leave.
Several Cadets in full uniform approach Kirk. At first, the dialogue is too low for even Spock to hear over the music and combined voices of the other patrons. But, as one of the cadets steps deeper and deeper into Kirk’s personal space his voice get increasingly loud.
This is illogical. At a closer proximity one’s volume need only decrease for proper communication.
Spock can now hear words like “Waste.” “Hick.” “Pathetic.” “Faggot.” and “Father.”
Kirk is smiling and appears unaffected until the latter. He drops his pool cue and swings, hitting the cadet in the face and splitting his lip.
The cadet and his friends are immediately on Kirk, punching, kicking and yelling. Kirk appears to be a competent fighter but the odds are not in his favor. Most of Kirk’s friends, including McCoy, have long gone home. Spock notes that the man who had previously been kissing Kirk stands aside and does nothing to intervene.
Two of the men slam Kirk’s back against the pool table and hold him down while the original aggressor leans over him, speaking quietly.
He takes out a cigarette and a lighter, which he flicks open inches from Kirk’s face.
At the sight of a spark, Spock is accross the room with alien speed.
He grabs the cadet, lifts him off the ground and easily tosses him into the wall. People are screaming and the collective adrenaline warms Spock’s skin.
His boot comes down on the man hand, smashing his fingers and permanently extinguishing the tiny flame. He then turns and takes on the rest of the men.
Spock is no longer aware of his own actions.
The brush of Kirk’s hand against his neck is as effective as a hypospray. It shocks him and calms him. He finds himself leaning over the pool table with his hand wrapped about the throat of a terrified first-year Starfleet cadet who is seconds from losing consciousness. There are three men on the ground. The felt of the table is marred with blood - red and green.
Spock’s hands are shaking and his breath is unsteady. He bites his tongue bloody fighting the panic and the shame and the overwhelming anger.
Kirk’s fingers remain lightly pressed at the stop of his spine. Kirk's mine is calm amid a sea of chaos. Spock does not seek to disconnect them.
*
Spock and Kirk are both arrested.
They are detained in separate cells but can hear and see each other through the clear field.
Spock sits rigid and silent and watches Kirk, who is sprawled out on the single bench in his cell. One of his eyes is swollen shut. The other is voluntarily closed. His face is swollen and modeled. His hands are bruised.
Spock wonders if they will receive a dishonorable discharge from Starfleet.
“Was it your Dad?” Kirk asks suddenly without opening his eye.
“I do not understand your meaning.”
“People with normal upbringings don’t just react like that. So, who was it? Your Dad? I would guess cigarette burns from the way that lighter set you off, but I seriously doubt any Vulcan would see the logic in smoking.”
“My Father is highly honored and a member of the Vulcan High Council.”
Kirk laughs but it sounds like a choke.
“My Father is not violent.” Spock responds again when the silence drags on. He almost says Vulcans are not violent but he stops himself. Vulcans do not lie.
Kirk rolls onto his side and opens his one good eye. His lip is split but he curls his mouth into a half smile anyway. It fades.
Kirk does not look away.
The silence is interrupted by a police officer who wolf whistles as he turns the corner.
“Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. It’s been awhile. I was almost starting to miss you. What the fuck have you been up to?”
Kirk stands and connects his fist with the officer's in what appears to be a friendly gesture.
“Any way we can take a slap on the wrist and just walk this one off?”
Spock researched the Terran legal system and local California laws before moving to Earth and can not recall any punishments which involve being hit on the wrist or taking strolls.
“Sorry man. Your friend really did a number on those guys. This one is way over my head. I called Bones though, and am trying to at least get you out on bail tonight.” The officer shrugs. “I’m not sure about the Vulcan though.”
“Thanks Josh,” Kirk says. “I’ll give Gaila your number - see if she’s interested.”
“Shit.” The officer smirks and runs his hand through his hair. “I’ll push - see if there is anything else I can do.”
The two men touch knuckles again and the officer walks back down the hall. Spock can not help but think about the implications of such a gesture on Vulcan and how casual it seems here. He runs his fingertips over his own knuckles. Through the thin material of his gloves he can feel the scars.
Kirk lays back down the on bench and drapes his elbow over his face. He is quiet again for a long time.
“It was my Step-Dad.”
Spock holds his breath. He watches Kirk’s chest rise and fall seven times before Kirk speaks again.
“Never cigarettes - just fists and alcohol.”
Spock does not reply.
6.
Leonard McCoy and Admiral Pike arrive within 3.45 minutes of each other.
“For fucks sake Jim, only you could be a bad influence on a goddamn Vulcan.” Pike shakes his head. Spock thinks he looks older and somehow more human in the middle of the night in civilian clothes.
McCoy just snorts. He is wearing pajama pants, an overcoat and some sort of fluffy indoor footwear. He appears to also be holding one of Spock’s jackets.
Pike sighs. He is serious now. “Well, you broke Mitchell’s jaw and three of his fingers. Certainly painful, but everyone will be fine. The police are handing you both over to Starfleet for disciplinary action in hopes that this does not become an inter-planetary incident.”
“Cadet Mitchell and his accomplices held Cadet Kirk down with the intent to burn and disfigure him, Sir. Intervention became necessary.”
“What?” Kirk looks confused and Spock is not certain why. “I mean he beat the shit out of me and was talking crap about my father, but fire? Spock? He was just lighting a cigarette.”
Spock’s hands tighten behind his back. Images flash behind his eyes of fire. Of hands holding him down. Of lips against his ear. You will never be one of us. Of excruciating pain.
Spock opens his eyes and looks at Kirk. He looks worried.
Spock just got into a bar fight. He broke a fellow cadet’s jaw over a cigarette. Nothing seems quite right.
“I am emotionally compromised,” Spock says. “I am not able to perform -”
“No.” Pike looks and sounds like an Admiral again. “No. Please, go home and get some sleep and we will discuss disciplinary action in the morning - for all involved. I will call the Vulcan Embassy. I....I know what happened....and I..” Pike glance at Kirk then McCoy, very aware of the presence of so many ears. “I understand.”
“I do not.” Is all Spock can manage to say.
“I know.” Pike turns to McCoy, “You can take them home?”
“I’ll get both Jim and the hobgoblin all tucked in,” McCoy says. “I’m Jim’s doctor and his fucking babysitter.”
McCoy hands Spocks the jacket as they exit the police station.
Without it, Spock would feel ice cold.
*
McCoy uses a dermal regenerator and a liberal number of hypos on Jim. He attempts to do the same to Spock, but is repeatedly refused.
Spock learns that bailing Jim out of jail after a barfight is somewhat of a tradition which is followed by the ritual of sharing a bottle of illegal Romulan ale while sitting on the floor.
He attempts to point out the illogic of becoming intoxicated after one has participated in a public, drunken brawl. But he is only offered a glass, which he declines.
Spock prepares himself a cup of Vulcan tea instead and sits with his long legs folded under him on the floor next to the two drunk men.
“I thought you were past all this stupid, irresponsible, rebellious farm-boy bullshit.” McCoy is grumbling at Kirk. “Reformed or whatever total crap you were spewing at the beginning of the term. Why the hell join Starfleet and continue with this?”
“Aw, Bones,” Jim spills some of his drink onto the floor. Spock stares at the wet drops. “Your concern is so touching.”
McCoy makes a grunting noise. “Don’t fuck this up. I can’t come bail you out after they strap me into a tin can and shoot my ass off into space.”
“Starfleet has some of the safest and most technically advanced military starships in the universe. None of them are composed of tin.” Spock breaks his silence.
“Bones is afraid to fly.”
“Why do you insist on calling Doctor Leonard McCoy ‘Bones’ when you are intoxicated?”
“Doctor Sawbones.” Jim giggles.
Spock thinks that sounds a bit barbaric. “It is illogical to join starfleet if one is afraid to fly into space. Why not choose a different area of practice?”
Drunk and slurring, Bones says a bit too loudly, “I am only here because, in all honestly, I have no place else to be.”
“I confess I find myself in my present location under similar circumstances.” Spock’s voice is far quieter and distinctly sober. This is the most personal information he has ever shared.
Jim laughs. “Well, aren’t we just the saddest pile of shit I have ever seen. To rejects and losers!“
“It would not be possible to attend Starfleet Academy had one been rejected. It is illogical to …”
“Cheers.” Bones and Jim intercede in unison.
Spocks pauses momentarily, then mimics their gesture and clinks his cup of tea against their shot glasses.
Bones and Jim sleep in the same bed. The doctor snores and Jim curls himself around him. Spocks sits alone. He does not sleep.
He uses his personal data padd to access the Starfleet personnel records of James T. Kirk and finds that they do not exist. This is an unexpected result and one that requires further investigation.
7.
Hands are holding Spock down. He is screaming but no one is listening. The air is putrid with smoke and burnt flesh. One minute they are hurting him and next he is watching them hurt Jim.
These illogical transitions in time and space are the only way he can be certain that he is dreaming. It is otherwise overwhelming real.
Spock is screaming.
Spock
He fights and he fights but grips tighten and pressure increases. He wants to wake up.
Spock
Spock!;
Jim is screaming his name but he can not seem to get close enough no matter how fast he runs. A Vulcan man leans over Jim. He pulls out a lighter. Spark and flame and fire.
“Spock!”
McCoy slaps him and suddenly Spock is awake. He is sprawling unseemingly on his meditation mat on the floor by his bed. He did not intend to fall asleep. (He intends to never fall asleep again, if possible)
Spock can not breathe properly.
He gasps and struggles and pulls himself away from McCoy hands, which have moved to his throat. For a brief irrational moment he thinks that McCoy is going to kill him.
“Shit! Jim, grab my tricorder. In my desk.”
Jim watches Spock carefully.
“The fuck? Jim? Tricoder! Now! Or he is going to fucking pass out.”
Every breath is painful and in this state he does not have to touch Jim or McCoy to feel the powerful pull of their collective fear.
McCoy is reaching towards his throat again. “I am just going to feel your pulse.”
“I...” Spock gasps. “I am not....” ragged uneven gulps. “human.”
Spock can still smell smoke. He tries to tell himself that it is only in his mind, but illogic is currently winning this mental battle.
He wills his fingers to work and guides McCoy hand to a spot just below his armpit.
Spocks pulse is strong but wild and irregular and McCoy is awash in the knowledge that in this particular moment all of his medical knowledge is completely fucking worthless. He is a human with a human’s knowledge in a universe filled with more others than himselves.
Jim hands McCoy a tricorder and kneels beside Spock with a glass of water. He rests his hand on the back of Spock neck again - on the same few inches of skin he had touched the night before.
Everything hurts, but it hurts less. His hands ache and his lungs burn and his head feels like it might explodes from the pressure trying to escape and the pressure of trying to hold it all in. Each breath is slightly easier than the last until finally he is breathing regularly again.
“What the fuck happened.” McCoy is continuously recording data and analysing Spock, searching for an answer.
“I do not require further assistance. I am sorry to have woken you.”
“Oh no. That is not how this is fucking.....”
“He had a panic attack.” Jim sounds certain.
“He is a green-blooded, Vulcanized robot. A panic attack? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
McCoy looks at Spock. His silence appears to be answer enough for the doctor.
“Shit.”
McCoy digs through his medical bag and pulls out a hypo. “Can I even give you this?” It is a human medicine for sleep and relaxation.
“It would not be wise. My body reacts negatively to most Terran medications.”
McCoy turns to Jim, “Well at least get some of that voodoo Vulcan tea or something.”
McCoy spends the rest of the weekend bent over padds reading, glancing up to monitor Spock at regular intervals as if to make sure he is still breathing.
He asks Spock if he can check his resting pulse 3 times in two days. When he touches Spock, the genuine concern that comes off Leonard McCoy is not what Spock expects.
Leonard's words are antagonistic and angry but his emotions hint at a friendship.
Spock thinks of Uhura and Jim at the bar. He thinks of the insults exchanged between Leonard and Jim when it is clear that the two share a genuine affection.
“Why do humans use insults and negativity to express feelings of friendship?”
“It’s called sarcasm and not all humans do it. Just the assholes.”
“All humans have assholes. I do not understand.”
“Humans are not logical,” Leonard says with a laugh. “Don’t bother trying to understand us. We are all idiots.”
“Fascinating.”
8.
Spock is surprised to see that the disciplinary hearing is just a small, informal meeting. He had expected the highest degree of prosecution given the violent nature of his transgression.
“Please sit.”
The only people present are Admiral PIke, two additional Starfleet officials, Spock, Jim, Mitchell and and three other men that were involved in the altercation.
“Let’s get this out of the way so we can move onto something productive shall we.
No one involved has pressed charges so thankfully the police are not going to be involved and this will stay between you and Starfleet. What happened this weekend was absolutely ridiculous and I hope that all of you can get your heads out of your asses and see that.
I have gotten conflicting first hand accounts of who actually started this whole thing and it happened off campus and out of my jurisdiction.
So, I am giving you all of a demerit for behavior unbecoming an officer and ordering all of you to attend an anger management class, a alcohol abuse seminar and one weekend of cultural sensitivity training.
If anything at least the boredom will be a reminder not to fuck up again and it will keep you out of the bars for a few weekends. Now, everyone get out of here.”
Pike gestures towards to door.
“Spock, please stay.”
Spock remains seated while the rest of the cadets and officials exit the room. Jim hangs in the doorway but Pike insists that he also leave.
“I need an honest answer this time Spock. Is everything okay? Do I need to require that you see a Starfleet physician?’
Spock hesitates. “I am still transitioning to life on Earth. There have been some challenges, however I am attempting to adapt.” Spock thinks of Uhura, one of his few success. “When in Rome, correct?”
Pike laughs and the mood feels lighter. “Perhaps you behaved a bit too much like the Romans. A middle ground next time, alright? How is your health? Is this whole thing” -He gestures toward and around Spocks hands, uncertain of what to say - ”affecting you emotionally?”
“Vulcans do not....” Spock stops. “Yes.” The word barely escapes his lips. “But, I am making efforts to improve the situation.”
“That is all I can ask. Feel free to skip the alcohol and cultural trainings. I see no need, but perhaps the anger is not such a bad idea.”
“Understood, Sir.”
*
Uhura calls Spock a hero. He finds her reasoning irrational.
Cadet Mitchell’s behavior was not acceptable, but neither was Spock’s. In their violence they were all collectively less than their potential and he considers himself deserving of the demerit he received.
Jim’s friends seem to disagree. Numerous cadets, the majority of which have never previously acknowledged Spock, congratulate him in the commissary and several new faces join Spock and Uhura for their morning meal.
“Spock, this is my roommate Gaila and this is Scotty and Pavel Chekov.”
Spock recognizes Gaila as the Orion cadet that is often with Jim. Based on his initial observation he had assumed they were mated but has now come to believe that is not the case.
“Live long and prosper.”
They each say hello and proceed with their meal - talking loudly and, in Scotty’s case, with their mouths full. It is not the most peaceful meal Spock has ever had but he is certainly not lonely.
About half way through breakfast Jim and McCoy arrive at their table. Jim asks Uhura to scoot down and takes a seat next to Spock.
Jim recounts a hyperbolized tale of the fight, including a dramatic reenactment of the proceedings using a hotdog, several green beans, and one large splat of a thick red Terran sauce called catsup.
Spock attempts to not watch, but Jim is surprisingly engaging and keeps the attention of the entire table.
“A Vulcan, huh?” Gaila laughs, wagging her eyebrows at Jim in a way that appears suggestive. “Uncharted territory? That doesn’t happen to you very often does it.”
“Is the pot calling the settle slut?”
“Slut?” Gaila mocks offense. “I’m just an innocent little Orion girl. I think this cultural sensitivity training will do some good.”
Jim rolls his eyes and flicks a green bean in her direction. She picks it up from the edge of her plate with a smile.
“It has been a long time since I have seen a green cock,” she says as she swallows it. “I miss it.” She pouts out her lower lip to express her disappointment.
Spock chokes on his soup and the entire table erupts in laughter.
Jim pats Spock on the back as he coughs.
“That action does not actually aid a humanoid who is choking. I believe it is what you would refer to as an “old wife’s tale.” Which is an illogical expression, as human wives do not have tails."
“I know.” Jim keeps his hand on Spock's back for a few moments, even after he is breathing normally again.
Part Three