Fic: Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye (3/3)
Author’s Note: I’m kind of sad about this. I am. I truly do think this is probably the last canon!AOS ‘Trek story I’ll ever write because I literally cannot do this to my brain anymore. Seriously, you guys have no idea how hard it was for me not to simply say ‘eff it’ and write my characterizations of the ‘Trek characters into this story instead of the miserably OOC and trope-ish caricatures we got from Into Failure. The writers were trying to force square pegs into round holes. My brain just can’t do it, Captain, because I don’t have the power. ;)
So to keep from going crazy (crazier) as I wrote this last chapter, I entertained myself with the mental image of Ricardo Montalban up in heaven, channeling his best William Shatner impression as he yells, “AAABBBRRRAAAMMMSSSS!!!!” Yanno, because he deserves to, after what Bad Robot did to his (and I absolutely mean that - the real Khan will always belong to Montalban) great character. Here is the last chapter of Say Goodnight.
Disclaimer: Nope. Most definitely not mine! No money is made; I just do this for enjoyment (and to attempt to fix a teeny bit of the mother of all cock-ups that was Into Failure).
Chapter | 1 | 2 | 3 |
========
Chapter 3
Jim Kirk learned in the infancy of his friendship with one Leonard H. McCoy, MD, PhD, and foul-mouthed SOB, that the man very much valued his own personal space. It was a bit of a revelation to Jim, especially considering the fact McCoy offered up the Cliff’s Notes version of his life’s story five whole seconds into their initial meeting. Clearly, Jim remembered musing on that shuttle ride from Iowa, what Bones needed was a friend.
(And to get over his irrational fear of space, his burgeoning alcoholism and his ever-present paranoia over rejection and just about everything else, but those were different matters entirely.)
He especially needed a friend who was the polar opposite on just about every end of the spectrum from himself. Kirk thought he fit that bill nicely, and his ability to keep up with Bones shot for shot? Well, that was just a bonus.
One hack of the housing database to assign himself as McCoy’s roommate later, Jim was in business. From comms to PADDs to booze and everything in between, nothing was off limits. It was a game for the two men and they both knew it; digging for new buttons to push and ways to piss each other off was how they staved off boredom and blew off steam. By the end of their second year, Jim lost count of how many times and in how many different ways McCoy threatened his physical or mental well being and Kirk was sure Bones lost count of how many times Jim did something on purpose just to piss the older man off.
Fast forward two years and a couple of massive crises later, it wasn’t his own well being that was keeping Kirk awake at night, at least not this time. And that worry, that niggle clawing away at the back of his conscience, was the very reason he was sitting in the CMO’s decimated quarters at oh-dark-thirty. As much as he needed to talk to Bones about his...experiences (Jim absolutely refused to call it an interaction with the dead because that would have contradicted everything he believed), he also wanted to check up on his best friend. Bones, for as much as he cared about others, wasn’t that great when it came to taking for himself. Everyone knew it, but Kirk was the only one with enough balls to call the doctor on it.
Jim sighed, exhaling a long, loud breath into the empty space that comprised McCoy’s quarters. He was alone; Bones’ comm rang shortly after Kirk finished his narrative. Out of casual habit, Jim picked up the buzzing device from the table and nearly flipped it open, stopping just short of answering it when he saw the caller’s ID. He exchanged a grim look with his friend and silently handed the comm over. McCoy glanced at the screen, cursed and disappeared into his bedroom to update his boss on the various statuses of the patients from the Vengeance’s attack.
Normally, Jim would be bothered that McCoy felt such a need for secrecy. But this time was different (there had been a lot of those instances recently) and Kirk respected Phillip Boyce’s privacy enough not to pry. The placard on his office door might proclaim Boyce as Starfleet’s surgeon general, but he was also the closest thing Chris has - had, Jim corrected himself - to a family. Kirk didn’t want to make Boyce choose which he had to be when he spoke with McCoy - the surgeon general, or the grieving friend. Given Bones’ distinct advantage of his deep friendships with both men, McCoy was one of the few people left on the planet with whom Phil could be open and honest about his relationship with Chris. Jim simply hoped one of the doctors was smart enough to exploit that tiny fact during the healing process.
Jim yawned loudly in the armchair, cracking his neck back and forth in the process. If he tipped his head to the side, he could hear Bones’ low tones wafting from the bedroom. Kirk checked the chrono on the wall - McCoy’s call with Boyce had been going for almost a half hour. Restless but unwilling to interrupt, Kirk stood and stretched his legs and back. His eyes wandered around the room, stopping at the pile of PADDs the doctor haphazardly relegated to the floor earlier in the evening. Searched for something to occupy his mind while he waited, Jim snagged the top device from the pile. Hopeful it still worked well enough for him to download a game to play, Kirk returned to his chair, flipped it on and poked around.
It was McCoy’s personal PADD. Duty roster - boring, his own medical chart - really boring though probably kind of weird, and one After Action Recommendation - James T. Kirk’ blinking innocently from the open digital mailbox. Jim started blankly at the header of the message, trying valiantly to stamp down the unease bubbling in the middle of his chest. In his brief time as captain of the Enterprise, Jim learned that any kind of formality in writing usually meant he wasn’t going to be particularly fond of what came next. But, on the other hand, he needed to know. Kirk took about three seconds to contemplate his options before he clicked on the draft, steeling himself to see in black and white the narrative to Command that would probably end his career.
‘For extraordinary courage and heroic conduct above and beyond the call of duty as Captain of the USS Enterprise, Primary Fleet, in action against the rogue ship Vengeance and wanted criminal Khan Noonien Singh over Earth, on stardate 2259. With the Enterprise, powerless, spiraling towards a certain and catastrophic collision with a heavily populated area of Earth, Captain Kirk, having donned only minimal protection, entered the radioactive warp core chamber at great peril to his own safety and well being in an attempt to restore the ship’s propulsion. Once inside, Captain Kirk discovered the cores were completely misaligned, and again without regard to his own health, physically pushed them back together to re-establish the connection. His efforts enabled the crew of the Enterprise to deploy thrusters and slow the ship’s descent through the atmosphere, thereby averting certain disaster. His great personal valor while exposed to nearly fatal levels of radiation, combined with his indomitable fighting spirit both inspired and saved his crew as well as countless others on the ground. His gallantry and intrepidly throughout his ordeal reflects the highest credit upon Captain Kirk and that of Starfleet.’
Kirk gently set the PADD down on the table in front of him, cursing the sudden tremble that sprung up in his fingers. Biting his lip, Jim’s eyebrows creased at the bridge of his nose as he sucked in a deep, calming breath.
Bones wrote him a citation for valor?
The fuck?
“You weren’t meant to see that, Jim.”
Kirk’s head snapped up. He was so engrossed in the report that he hadn’t even heard McCoy enter the room. Evenly, he said, “Done with that call with Boyce?”
“Yeah,” McCoy said, trouble and worry washing at once over his face.
“How is he?”
“Do you want the truth, or should I bullshit you?” the doctor asked, exhaling a long sigh.
“I can handle it,” Kirk answered, glad for the temporary reprieve.
“He’s a damned mess. Trying like hell to hold it together for the rest of us, but he’s not coping at all.”
“That sounds an awful lot like someone else I know,” Jim replied, shooting a knowing glare at McCoy.
The doctor pursed his lips. “Jim,” he warned lowly. “Not now.”
Like Boyce, Kirk knew McCoy was doing his level best to maintain a professional facade. But the extra breath the surgeon took at the end of his sentence and the way his eyebrows darted into the center of his face as he literally bit his tongue until it bled might as well have been a flashing neon sign, announcing to the world McCoy was a heartbeat away from a massive meltdown. Gently but firmly, Jim said, “Maybe not now, but soon.”
McCoy shifted uncomfortably and nodded stiffly, swallowing hard as silence once again enveloped the room. He reached out and gently slid the PADD towards himself. He flipped it on, scrolled through the message and re-saved the draft. Peering at at Kirk over the top of the device, McCoy said, “I thought you would have deleted that.”
With a passive shrug of his shoulders, Jim met his best friend’s eyes and replied, “I have no reason to. If you want to write me a citation, then that’s your prerogative. I’m not going to stop you. But I have to be be honest. I thought you’d be writing a letter to Command asking them to boot me out on my ass as fast as they possibly could.”
McCoy scoffed loudly. “I didn’t see any reason to do that, seein’ as you saved all our asses. Besides, with all the regulations I’ve broken in my time, I would have been right there with you.”
“And then we’d both be up shit creek without a paddle,” Kirk chuckled out mirthlessly as he tipped his head back into the cushions of the couch. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath while he swiped a hand across his eyes. Without moving his hand, he tilted his entire face towards McCoy and asked, “Why, Bones?”
“Why, what?” the doctor questioned.
“Why are you putting me up for a commendation in the first place?”
“Because you deserve it,” McCoy insisted firmly as he stared at Kirk with open shock evident all over his face. There wasn’t a singular attributable label for his look, but it was almost as if he couldn’t understand why Jim was questioning his motives.“Jim, you crawled, unprotected, into the Jefferies and kicked the warp core back in place. You knew it would kill you but you did it anyway. I figured a citation for bravery was the least we could do.”
“We? Who’s the ‘we’ in this, Bones?” Kirk asked, steamrolling straight past the ‘what’ and ‘where’ and zeroing right in on the ‘who’.
“Goddammit,” the surgeon muttered, mentally kicking himself for the verbal gaffe. “Spock sent it to me to review to make sure everything in that citation jived with the bullshit version of events we gave to Command in the official report.”
“Spock? Spock is lying now?” Jim asked, openly shocked. “What the hell did you the two of you tell them, Bones?”
“Not a lot of the truth, that’s for damned sure. We were hoping you’d wake up before we had to file the official report so we could all get our stories straight, but per your pain in the ass usual, you didn’t follow the plan. And I couldn’t very well tell them you actually died, so we made something up,” McCoy growled out, disdain hanging on every single word.
Kirk remained silent as his brain processed all the ramifications of Spock and McCoy’s actions. If Starfleet Command ever figured out the two remaining senior officers aboard the Federation flagship lied their way through an official report...Jim shuddered to think what might happen. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he stared McCoy down. “And that was the best thing the two of you could think to do, Doctor?”
“We didn’t have much of a choice. You and I both know that Marcus wasn’t the only person in the Admiralty with their fingers in that Blackwater program. There had to be more. You don’t get that kind of funding and clearance to build an entire fucking ship without more than one man at the helm, and I’m not about to find out what other raving lunatics this outfit employs,” McCoy said, his scowl deepening with every word that passed his lips.
Kirk’s brain filled in the blanks. “And with what you found, there’s no way you can risk putting that kind of information in a report.”
“Damned straight. I’m done pokin’ the hornets’ nest.”
‘And maybe that famous McCoy cynicism is finally going to prove useful,’ Kirk thought to himself. For once, though emotional to a fault, Bones was right in following his heart. Out loud, Jim admitted after a pregnant pause, “You guys did too much for me.”
“No, we did what you would have done.”
Kirk chuckled mirthlessly, the self-depreciating sound coming from somewhere in his chest as McCoy’s words rang hollowly in his ears. “You mean risk my life, my ship and the lives of everyone under my command on a stupid quest for revenge? Or should I have to choose between my first officer and the prime directive? Because Bones, let me tell you, I am not a role model for you guys to look after. Believe me.”
“Really,” the doctor began sarcastically. “Are you trying to make a liar out of Pike now, too?”
“What?” Kirk gasped out.
“You heard me. Are you really trying to tell me Chris was wrong about you? Because he sure as hell believed in you. Believed in you enough to go to bat for you with Marcus after they wanted to ship you back to the Academy,” McCoy replied sternly, eyes steely with his arms crossed over his chest. “Believed in you enough to give you a second, third and fourth chance.”
“You heard about that? How?” Kirk asked, shivering as a cold shock of unease ran up his spine.
“Boyce,” McCoy answered with a twitch of his eyebrows. “Man needed someone to bitch to. I was a good candidate, seeing how I know you both so well.”
“He had no right to tell you that,” Kirk spat out, choking on his earlier wish that Phil would use McCoy as a sounding board.
“And why do you care, Jim? Aren’t you happy about that? I’m sure they’ll give you another crack at the Enterprise after all this,” McCoy said, a bit of bitterness coming from his tone as he thought about the second chance Kirk got that Pike wasn’t afforded.
Kirk’s expression lit up, anger, frustration, embarrassment and desperation all warring for a bit of real estate on his face. Passionately, Jim insisted, “Yes, but not like that! Do you really think I’m that coldhearted, Bones? Dude, not cool.”
“That’s not what I said, Jim.”
Kirk took a deep breath, concentrating on steadying his emotions and slowing his breathing. “I know,” he admitted finally. Licking his lips, he looked McCoy in the eye and said earnestly, “You’re right about that, you know. About Pike. I don’t know why, but he always thought I’d be something.”
“I think he was right,” McCoy said succinctly. “Though I think you tested his better judgement from time to time.”
Jim closed his eyes as a sense of deja vu washed over him. He could hear Pike’s smooth but irritated baritone in his mind. ‘Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass you are?’ Chris asked him. Smiling sadly, he said, “You know, when Pike was yelling at me for that whole Nibiru cluster, he told me the same thing, just in not so many words.”
McCoy sat, silent and perfectly still as he waited for Kirk to continue.
“I think,” Jim began after a good bit of hesitation, “I did what I did because I didn’t want to admit that I lost my friend for nothing. Because that’s really what it was - nothing. Khan didn’t have a beef with any of us; we were all just a means to an end. It was a game to him, and he played me from front to back.”
“He played us all, Jim. Marcus included.”
“Yeah,” Kirk said in a near whisper. Sucking in a breath, Jim asked the doctor, “Bones, can I ask you a personal question?”
McCoy snorted. “Now you’re asking for permission?” he choked out incredulously, face falling when he realized Jim wasn’t exactly in the joking kind of mood.
“How did you move on when your dad...died?” Kirk asked, not quite knowing how to delicately phrase the circumstances surrounding David McCoy’s passing.
The doctor clenched his jaw. His chin dipped against his chest as he let out a long breath, saying nothing.
Jim shook his head. “I shouldn’t have asked that,” he said, taking McCoy’s hesitation for a reluctance to answer.
“It’s okay, Jim. ‘Bout time I probably talked about this, Might as well be now,” McCoy rumbled as he spun the ring on his pinky finger nervously around the digit.
Kirk licked his lips, feeling the awkward tension spike in the room. “You don’t have to. I mean, it’s fine. I get it - it’s personal.”
“It is personal, but not so much that I can’t talk about it,” McCoy replied. He stopped, shook his head and rolled his eyes, adding, “For God sake, I ain’t gonna break talkin’ about this now. Let that breath out you’re holding in before you turn blue and pass out on my floor.”
“Are you sure?”
“‘O course I’m sure, though not that that makes this any easier. Besides, would I lie to you?”
Kirk lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“You don’t need to. I already know what you’re going to say.” McCoy lifted his eyes and searched out the random patterns left by the scorch marks on his ceiling. “Now to answer your question, I didn’t. I didn’t move on. Instead, I drank. A lot. Destroyed my marriage, lost my daughter in the process. You know that was the beginning of the end - you heard the fallout between me and Joce.”
“Yep. I thought I’d heard it all with my mom and Frank. I was wrong. Man, there were times I was actually afraid for both of you, even if you were separated by a few thousand miles.”
McCoy shifted, cringing, while he fidgeting with the PADD Kirk left on the table. “She didn’t trust me, and for good reason. I suppose that’s the reason I didn’t trust anyone else, let alone myself. I was too busy hating myself for what I did. I thought I’d wash out of this place within the first semester and get what I deserved.” He turned the device over, spinning it on opposite corners against his fingers.
“For once, I really don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me,” Kirk said.
McCoy cocked a weary smile. “Jim, you’ve been through a lot. I don’t have to tell you that. But I also know what an impatient little punk you are.”
Kirk was indignant. “I am--”
McCoy waved his hand and pursed his lips, staring at his best friend with his most potent ‘You might be the captain but I’m still your doctor, so don’t fuck with me right now’ stare.
Jim’s posture deflated, effectively conceding defeat. “--sometimes really good at rushing headlong into things.”
The doctor nodded, satisfied. “And I’m trying to tell you to slow down and let it come to you, just this time. You wanted to know what I learned from my father’s...death?” McCoy began, his voice catching in his throat on the actual word.
“Yeah.”
“What you’re looking for right now - that perfect solution to get rid of what you’re feeling - it doesn’t exist. Just like I’ll always carry my regrets with me, you’ll always have yours. But I can tell you that you should learn from my mistakes. You saw what I did. Nothing good comes of it.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Be thankful, and above all, learn from it,” McCoy answered instantly. “You have another opportunity to do what Chris won’t be able to try. Don’t waste that chance.”
Kirk flinched when he saw a flicker of pain cross McCoy’s face on the last part of his sentence. While Jim had a special relationship with Pike, he was also acutely aware of the bond the older man formed with the oft-troubled doctor. Part of his shame was knowing his actions to avenge Chris’ death were uniquely self-serving. Meanwhile, there were other people around him hurting just as much that he conveniently ignored in favor of his own agenda. Honestly, he told McCoy, “I don’t even know where to start. There aren’t enough ways I can ever say thank you for what you guys did.”
“You don’t have to thank us. I think your damned fool move jumpin’ into the core without any protection was a pretty good example of putting your money where your mouth is,” the surgeon replied gruffly. When Kirk didn’t respond or even move, McCoy added seriously, “You did enough, Jim. You really did.”
Shaking his head, Kirk held up a hand. “No, it wasn’t. What I did with the warp core? That was my penance for being a selfish, egotistical bastard, not a thank you.”
McCoy leaned forward in his chair and interlaced his fingers. Pillowing his chin on his hands, he said, “Jim, you need to do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Stop actin’ like a moron and quit blaming yourself for all of this. Yes, you had a part in it, and yes, you made mistakes. But you can’t change what you did, just like I can’t change what I did with my dad,” McCoy told Jim firmly. Raising an eyebrow, he lightened his tone and added, “And before you deny that you’re not, don’t bother. Your lip is twitching in that way it always does when you’re lying.”
Kirk chuckled, shaking his head at McCoy’s blunt but effective delivery as he conceded defeat on his tell. “I’m a little surprised that this is all coming from you, Doctor Doom and Gloom.”
“You asked. I have experience,” McCoy replied with a passive shrug of his broad shoulders.
Kirk nibbled away at the corner of lip and nodded, face resolute for the first time since setting foot inside his friend’s quarters. “Okay, fair enough. Where did you start? Where should I start?”
“By taking it one day at a time.”
Jim nodded. He could do that.
One day at a time.
--FIN--