Fic: "The Needs of the Few" (20/23)
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
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