In all your fantasies, you always knew - Trek reboot/Push - PG
Title: In all your fantasies, you always knew
Fandom: Star Trek reboot/Push
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Warnings: spoilers for both films
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 665
Point of view: third
Notes: to this prompt
Start runnin’, Granddaddy told him. Leo, just go. There’re too few of us left-they don’t have enough resources anymore to hunt us down. Not when there’s whole other planets to experiment on. Don’t tell anyone what you can do. Don’t use it. And remember-Here, Granddaddy gripped his arm tight, looked right into his eyes. Pushed the thought into his mind. Remember, Leo. You’re the one they’ve wanted for centuries, the culmination. Run. Hide. Stay safe or everything is over.
I will, he promised. And he did.
o0o
He left California completely, going to Georgia. Went to medschool and never Stitched, getting by on study and an aptitude for how things work. Never Pushed anyone to get a raise or a promotion or the answers to a test. Never Moved anything to make life easier. Never Wiped the jackasses who annoyed him or Bled the fucker’s who let patients die out of stubborn pride. Never Shifted to make himself look better or screw with the bastards who bothered him. Never acknowledged the glimpses he got of the future, never took advantage. Never Sniffed to see if anyone around was Division or special themselves. But he always Shadowed himself. Granddaddy said to run and hide, to stay safe, and the best way to do that was to completely disappear.
So he became Leonard McCoy, doctor and husband and father. And when that fell through, when he couldn’t deny that Division had caught up with him somehow after ten years, he fled to Starfleet. And if he Pushed to make sure the agents headed the wrong way, if he Wiped the Watcher and Sniffer who confronted him-well. Granddaddy was dead for a decade, so who was there to disappoint?
o0o
All his life, whenever he had downtime, he’d researched the Divisions, the abilities, the history of his people. From all he’d gathered over the years, no one else had ever had multiple abilities, let alone been able to use two at once.
Granddaddy had been right: he was the culmination, and if Division ever caught him, they’d take him apart. They’d figure out how to make more like him, and then they’d have an unstoppable army.
If they ever caught him, he swore, he’d kill himself.
o0o
The first time he Pushed anything in over fifteen years, he nearly passed out. He’d spent a decade and a half ignoring his abilities(except that once) and when he convinced an entire platoon of the natives that no one was there to find, he ended up on his knees, gasping.
“Bones!” Jim whisper-screamed. “Bones, are you hit?”
Another platoon was coming, this one led by their king. Bones didn’t have the strength or clarity of mind to tell them to go away. They weren’t psychics, so Shadowing wouldn’t do any good. He wasn’t clearheaded enough to only make them Bleed; some of his own party would get caught in the crossfire, and he probably couldn’t keep going long enough to do much damage. And Wiping or Stitching were both useless in battle.
He was about to completely shatter the Prime Directive, but there was a cliff not too far behind his high kingliness.
“Bones!” Jim actually yelled that time, but Bones could barely hear him over the rushing as he shoved the threat away, over the edge, and then collapsed onto the dirt.
o0o
He woke too exhausted to worry, a patient in his own sickbay. Jim was talking to Christine and they both hurried over.
“Bones,” Jim said. “What happened?”
He could make everyone forget. Place some other memory in their minds. But he was so tired of hiding. Pretending. Running.
“Jim,” he asked. “Do you trust me?”
Christine backed away and he didn’t glance over, just kept his eyes on his captain. On his friend.
“Yeah,” Jim answered quietly, face serious as Bones had ever seen. “I do.”
Bones took a deep breath. Then he started talking and didn’t stop until he told it all.