No Light No Hope
Title: The Justice of Suffering
Author: CassianSage
Fandom: reboot
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: T I guess. I'm still pretty new at this. There's blood and some swearing. No porn yet. It'll come (no pun intended).
Words: roughly 3,003 or so.
Disclaimer: If only I owned Star Trek. That would be pretty great. But alas, I do not, so I get by simply by writing my own little bits of nonsense, imagining that the characters are mine.
Summary: Inadequate. The one word Leonard McCoy hated almost more than "failure". Unfortunately, both seemed apt descriptions of himself. There was his failed marriage, failure at pleasing his wife in life, in bed, in purely existing…
Notes: Written for a prompt found on the Star Trek kink meme. Sorry, I don't want to spoil too much. Just read it if you like a bit of angst. This is the first part of God knows how many which belongs to a series entitled No Light No Hope. Please don't shoot me for my bad writing. I'm sensitive, not a Vulcan. _\\//
I. The Justice of Suffering
Inadequate. The one word Leonard McCoy hated almost more than "failure". Unfortunately, both seemed apt descriptions of himself. There was his failed marriage, failure at pleasing his wife in life, in bed, in purely existing. Failure as a father-figure after the unexpected birth of little Joanna McCoy. That one hurt even more than the lost marriage. Buried in work at the hospital, he missed her first steps, the first childish words to spill from her lips, seeing her brown curly locks being trimmed for the first time, the first grin to spread across her face not caused by gas, everything. And then, the coup de grace: his father's death.
Men grow old and die. Leonard knew that, but David McCoy didn't die of old age. After a long battle with a painful degenerative disease, he had begged for death from his son, pleaded until Leonard could no longer refuse the last request of a dying man. There was no doubt he would die; Leonard couldn't find a cure after years of painstaking research. So he finally released the man from the painful yoke he carried, releasing him into death's cold embrace.
Not two weeks later, groundbreaking research was uncovered which led to a cure less than a month later. Already plagued with guilt, this news from the medical world only tore him apart further. If he had only been stronger, had coaxed his father into staying strong for a few more weeks, he'd still be alive. Instead he was left with no one. No mother, no father, no siblings. And soon his wife and daughter slipped away too.
By the time the divorce papers were finalized and the custody hearing over, McCoy had fallen into the welcoming arms of alcoholism. Sort of. He wasn't an alcoholic really. He just felt the need to control his suffering after years of letting life beat him. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped that the dizzying effects of the booze and the pounding headache afterwards would somehow fade all the hurt in his life. It didn't really, but it seemed to make the pain more bearable.
It was in his liquor-crazed stage in his life when McCoy had met one James Tiberius Kirk on that fateful day in Iowa. He decided that getting as far away from his guilt as possible was a good idea. And, of course, Jocelyn had taken everything from him in the divorce. He was really left with little choice but to join Starfleet.
McCoy had recognized another troubled soul in Jim almost immediately. Maybe that's what had unconsciously attracted Jim to Bones (the kid's ridiculous nickname for him) as well. When they departed the shuttle in San Francisco, McCoy was still particularly shaken and thus was escorted off with Jim's supporting arm around his waist and his own arm draped over Jim's shoulder. Three years later, McCoy would find their positions reversed when he sneaked Jim onto the Enterprise.
Bones told himself then, that it was only natural to sneak Jim on board after he was grounded for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru test. He tried to convince himself that it was because it wasn't fair for someone as brilliant (not that he'd admit it to Jim) as Jim to be stuck on the ground while the rest of the incompetent cadets (and Bones knew a surprising number of incompetent cadets) flew off to Vulcan. It certainly wasn't because he couldn't imagine going into deep space without Jim by his side. That's what he told himself, anyway.
It was the first impulsive thing Bones did in his life. He knew the consequences would find him after everything was over, but it didn't matter. And in the end, it was a really good thing he had sneaked Jim aboard. Earth wouldn't exist anymore otherwise. The names of billions of innocent people would have been added to the already staggering list of casualties between the destroyed armada of Federation ships and the loss of Vulcan.
Bones was just happy to still have Jim once the whole incident was over. He could've been killed at least a thousand times that day, just another death in the sea of faceless casualties all blended together. Of course to Bones, he wouldn't have been just another faceless person. And each time he tried to imagine life without that constant bitching annoyance that was Jim, his chest felt heavy and he had to remind himself how to breathe.
So each time they were separated when Jim was being reckless, the other thing that was very Jim, were pure torture for Bones. Jim willingly freefalling to his death, banished on some goddamned planet they knew nothing about, beaming aboard a Romulan vessel that looked more like some giant hairy pinecone to get Pike back, getting his ass kicked all the way along.
He wasn't used to not being able to look out for Jim all the time. It's what they did for each other at the Academy. Bones patched up Jim whenever he got into a fight and kept him from getting himself killed and Jim pulled him out of his drunken stupor long enough to show him how to live. So, he could've kissed Jim the moment his scrawny ass appeared on the transporter pad supporting the weight of Pike. He didn't, though he wanted to.
Bones praised every deity he could think of when Jim was given the Enterprise. Actually, he praised deities after he learned that he had been permitted to keep his status as Chief Medical officer aboard the flagship of the Federation. He knew that if he had been placed on any other ship, he would've declined and requested a posting planetside somewhere. There was no way he would be braving the unknown without his best friend, his only friend really. He knew that Jim didn't want to be separated either, but until they heard the news, he had still seemed more calm than Bones looked and felt. Still, it was good to see Jim's sincere look when he told him that he would be honored to have Bones as CMO on the USS Enterprise. Bones had accepted with a growl about how someone would have to keep Jim safe in that disease-ridden danger trap they called space. Life seemed okay again. They were still together.
Bones always thought that as long as he had Jim as a friend, he could be happy. He was wrong.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They hardly used pills of any sort anymore. Pills were old-fashioned and generally inadequate compared to the quick relief provided by a hypospray. Of course, there were those who for whatever reason reacted adversely to certain hyposprays and thus both patient and doctor preferred the use of these "old-fashioned and outdated pills". James Kirk was one such person, among a handful of other crewman from varying alien species aboard the Enterprise. There were also a small number of medicines which, for some reason, were incompatible with the standard hypo solution. These few medications then still had to be administered orally.
Even with a shortage of little capsules on the Enterprise, it was not hard for Leonard to acquire them. He was a doctor, damn it! And being a doctor, he also knew to steal only what he needed. It would be stupid for an innocent member of the crew to die all because he got greedy. Spock himself might have approved of the logic behind that, even if he undoubtedly would call exactly what the doctor was doing completely illogical. But then, there were many things that the hobgoblin certainly didn't understand, probably because of that green blood of his.
Leonard was extremely cautious with his preparations, especially around his best friend. It pained him to have to lie but Jim was way too nosy for his own good and would push and prod relentlessly if he thought something was wrong. So he was careful to act naturally around Jim, joking and scowling and frowning at all the right times. Sometimes he longed to tell Jim just how he felt, that after so many years of aching pain and guilt, he found he could love again with a force that kept him awake at night, that his jealousy flared every time he saw Jim flirting even casually with someone, that the heaviness in his chest nearly tore him apart each time he thought that this Away Mission would be the one Jim didn't survive. But he never did. Jim didn't feel that way about him. He knew every look in Jim's blue eyes and never was the look of lust or desire directed at him.
That was part of the final straw—what pushed him over the edge, well, that and the message he'd received from Jocelyn two weeks before. The message had thrown him back into the bottle, only for one night. Leonard had sobbed into his bourbon with shaking tremors until his eyes felt raw and his throat ached. He had awoken with one of the worst hangovers he'd had since his days at the Academy, but it was worth it. He deserved to suffer. There was somehow a justice being served in feeling that kind of physical pain.
The decision seemed so easy after that. It wasn't even a decision because there really were no other options. He didn't have Jocelyn (not that he really wanted her) or Joanna and he could never have James T. Kirk. And even if he somehow managed to claim Jim as his own, he knew that someday Jim wouldn't come back, or in other words, one day Leonard would fail again and once more something dear to him would be torn away, ripping away with it another piece of his rapidly-crumbling sanity. The prospect of feeling the hollow emptiness accompanying a loss being added to his already heavy load was too unbearable for words. Leonard had no one left and he needed to relieve the pain somehow.
It was a quiet day, and McCoy felt on edge throughout his shift. He was anxious for it to end so he could get out of there quickly. With his distracted manner, he hoped no serious cases would pass through sickbay that day. He didn't want to kill anyone because he was too distracted to focus adequately on his work. Funny how even with what he was doing to himself, the oath he had taken to do no harm was still important to him. In the past, be probably would have laughed at the thought. But then again, in the past, he wouldn't have found himself in this situation at all.
The day was, thankfully, fairly uneventful. A few crewmembers came in with injuries sustained in a sparring match. Nothing dangerous—a broken nose, a couple bruised ribs and some minor lacerations here and there. Later a young lieutenant from engineering came in with nausea and vomiting along with dizziness and fatigue. McCoy had the pleasure of informing the bewildered girl she was pregnant. It was basically business as usual. McCoy made the normal rounds, checking the patients still residing in sickbay, going over old medical reports.
He sighed when his shift finally ended, gave Nurse Chapel final instructions regarding patients and slipped out of sickbay to his quarters, which blessedly weren't far because he was CMO. He felt surprisingly almost calm as he traveled back there. Of course, why should he be nervous? He wanted, no, he needed this.
Leonard had only been in his quarters for a few minutes when he heard the comm unit on the wall beep followed by "Kirk to McCoy, you there?" He sighed. Of course this wouldn't be as easy as he had planned. He slowly walked to the comm unit on the wall and pushed the button.
"Yeah Jim, I'm here. What do you want?" He grimaced. The words came out a little harsher than he had intended. Jim would notice.
"You alright?" Yup, he definitely noticed. There was a heavy note of concern in even those two words. He could almost see Jim's frown, eyebrows pulled together tightly. Damn. Better tone it down. Don't arouse suspicion, not an easy thing to do with Jim Kirk though.
"Yeah. Just tired. Long day today." He tried to sound exhausted, voice lower and softer, letting a bit more of the Georgian accent slip through.
"I hear ya. Wanna grab a drink?"
No. No drinks. Not tonight. Not ever again.
"Jim, I'd rather not tonight. I have a bit of a headache already. I don't need to wake up to another one."
"Oh, come on. I wasn't planning on getting that drunk. But if it happens, you can easily cure the hangover. You're a doctor," Jim laughed, joking easily.
"Waste of my damn medicine, that's what it is," he growled back, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. He wanted to be left alone damn it!
"You sure you're okay?"
"Just peachy. Look, I don't mean to take it out on you. I just don't feel that great right now and I'd just like to go to sleep." It wasn't a total lie. He would be sleeping. It would just be for a very long time.
"You're sure you don't need to talk to Chapel or anyone about that headache?" Jim was trying to keep the worry out of his voice, rather poorly if you knew what to listen for, or if you'd memorized every rise and fall of Jim's voice like he had.
"All I need are eight hours of undisturbed rest. It'll be over by tomorrow." Yeah, it'll all be over. Every ounce of pain and guilt ever felt will be gone. He could tell that Jim was contemplating pushing some more; needling until he'd convinced Bones to come with him. To his surprise however, Jim let it drop.
"All right Bones. But we're doing breakfast in the morning. You owe me 'cause I hate drinking by myself."
"Fine kid, but I don't owe you anything. And don't be looking to me to clear up any hangover you get." 'cause I won't be there to help you he thought grimly. That thought was a little sad. No more stabbing an unsuspecting Jim in the neck. That he would miss.
"Fine Leonard." He could hear the teasing in his voice. Payback for calling him "kid", though he didn't really mind so much. In the end, he was just Leonard, really. Inadequate. A failure. Whatever.
"Sweet dreams. Kirk out."
Leonard breathed a sigh of relief and sank against the wall dropping to the floor. A flood of conflicting emotions ran through him—guilt, sorrow, agitation, frustration, but these were quickly replaced by an emptiness resonating in a dull ache in his chest as he reminded himself that Jim didn't love him. Nothing in this life could keep him here anymore. He pressed his face into his hands briefly and pushed himself back up from the floor. There were still a few preparations to be made.
He took the nearest empty PADD and transferred a recently recorded vid-message to it. The subject line read To Jim, I'm sorry. He placed the PADD on his desk, next to which he positioned a small envelope addressed to Joanna. Inside it was a letter written on old fashioned paper for when she was older, to help her understand, if she could, his decision.
When this was done, he took the small pill container stashed in his desk. There were just enough pills to do the trick, but it was going to be painful. The container held a mixture of two different medications, both completely incompatible with human physiology. This particular combination would result in a painful death, the drugs slowly burning through each internal organ, one at a time. He would probably die screaming madly. Good thing the walls were soundproof.
However, the pills weren't enough for him. Alongside the pill container in his desk rested a beautifully crafted knife he had purchased on a small planet on the outer rim of the Alpha Quadrant. This would add the final touch to his carefully thought out plan. He wanted to feel the pain inside and out, the justice of suffering being served one final time. For all the pain he had undoubtedly inflicted on people in his life, he deserved to die in pain. It was his penance.
Slowly Leonard pulled off his blue med shirt, tossing it on the floor under his desk. Then he carefully rolled up the sleeves of the black undershirt he wore underneath. His heart was thumping furiously now, presumably trying to make up for all the beats it would lose with his death. He wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to calm his thoughts. Goddamn coward, he thought to himself. You can't back out now.
Before giving himself ample opportunity to change his mind, he emptied the contents of the little container into his hand and threw them into his mouth all at once. After swallowing all the bitter red and blue capsules he took a steadying breath and brought the knife up to his left wrist. Years of surgery under pressure ensured that there was no tremor or trepidation to the motion. And for once, he felt calm, finally at peace with the vast emptiness of space. It was as though after so many years of so much wrong, the universe had suddenly righted itself again. If there was such thing as destiny, this was surely his, to die alone in the middle of unclaimed territory in space.
The empty room around him swallowed his quietly whispered final words.
"Joanna, Jim, I love you both. Please forgive me."
Then he focused on the feeling of the cool blade on his warm skin and watched that flash of metal as he quickly pulled the sharp edge across.