Author's note: Gosh, I haven't written in years. My current obsession with the new movie, as well as my low academic load this semester, have prompted me to write. This is a gen fic. I find it sad that there are seemingly so few out there for this genre. I write to portray friendship in its truest forms. All mistakes are mine. I am not familiar with all the technical terms and contexts of Star Trek, so feel free to enlighten me. I'll update when I can.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Chapter 1: To Make a Grown Man Cry
The officers fell into a shocked silence as they regarded their Captain and the CMO materialize onto the transporter pad.
Mere moments ago they had been filled with triumph and hope, only to have those feelings crushed with the heavy weight of despair.
The damage—the cost had been more than anyone had realized.
Lieutenant Uhura covered her mouth with her hand, eyes brimming with tears at the scene before her.
Doctor McCoy was kneeling on one knee, trying to comfort a very broken-looking Captain Kirk. The normally gruff doctor was uncharacteristically tender with his touch as he held the younger man, and unusually gentle with his tone.
"Jim…Jim. There was nothing you could do."
But what shocked everyone more than witnessing the softer-side of McCoy, was hearing the choked sobs of their Captain. James T. Kirk did not cry. James T. Kirk was larger than life. He'd fought tooth and nail to get Captaincy of the Enterprise, breaking countless regulations in the process, and still managed to come out on top. He'd saved the lives of millions and earned himself the Captain's chair at the age of 25, the youngest in the history of Starfleet ever to be promoted so quickly.
To his crew, Jim Kirk was a legend. In the past 3 months he'd led them on dozens of missions, all of them Starfleet successes, not because he was perfect; but because he was Captain James T. Kirk, and he didn't believe in no-win scenarios.
Some might have said it was Jim's magnetic charisma that earned him the loyalty of his crew. But anyone who made such an observation obviously was not close enough to the young man to experience the infuriation of being friends with a guy who's second greatest joy in life is to irritate the hell out of everyone he comes in contact with; and who's greatest joy in life is to do and be the exact opposite of what everyone expects of him. Those who were closest to the young man understood that what looked like narcissistic egotism to others was really a carefully constructed façade used both to keep people at arm's length and to mask the deep scars of insecurity. Leonard McCoy was one of the trusted few, and the only one so far on the Enterprise, that Jim had ever let get that close. Hence, James T. Kirk did not easily make friends, nor was he easily liked or accepted by those around him.
Yet, gradually over the past few months, the crew had become fond of their Captain. They trusted him. It was not a matter of personality or charm; rather, it was Jim's often cavalier, indomitable refusal to give up that had eventually earned the crew's respect. On more than one occasion, it was what had saved their lives.
And yet here was their Captain, a broken, heartbreaking mess huddling on the transporter pad, sobbing into McCoy's blue Starfleet shirt. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
It was clear that Jim needed medical attention—he was covered with blood and bruises and his gasping sobs were tainted with the painful sound of wheezing. Yet McCoy seemed incapable of doing anything else but holding him, whispering consolations that were falling on deaf ears. It was clear that Jim was lost in his anguish, a shaking fist clenched in the fabric of McCoy's uniform shirt.
"Bones…Bones, I…I-I couldn't…h-he…"
"Shhh…Jim, you did all you could…" McCoy's voice broke on the last syllable.
Uhura, still watching, self-consciously wiped a tear off of her cheek. She was overcome with compassion for the hurting Captain, but did not wish to appear incapable of handling her duties. She glanced over at Scotty, who sat dumbstruck behind the control panel, eyes wide with confusion as he stared at the scene.
Only a few minutes had passed, but the officers were momentarily lost seeing the strong presence of their friend and Captain reduced to such severe grief.
She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts as Spock's voice came through the communicator.
"Are the Captain and the doctor now on-board, Lieutenant?"
She tried her best to keep her voice from shaking when she responded, "Yes, Spock. They're here."
"Are there any injuries?"
"Dr. McCoy is seeing to the Captain now," she replied, voice more steady this time.
"Very well. You may return to your post, Lieutenant. Please inform Dr. McCoy that I shall be stopping by sickbay as soon as our trajectory is secure."
"Aye, commander." Stepping forward, she pitched her voice low as she placed a tentative hand on the doctor's tense shoulder. "Do you need assistance, doctor?"
He met her eyes then, and the sheer helplessness in their depths nearly sent her to her knees.
"Doctor?" She tried again, and it was enough to bring him back to his senses.
"Yeah…yeah. Help me get him up."
Jim's sobs had tapered off, but Uhura's heart still twisted to see the silent tears tracking rivers of dirt and blood down his coarse cheeks. He did not acknowledge her as she pulled one of his limp arms across her shoulders. Normally there would be a joke, most likely a suggestive one, and by now he should've been complaining to Bones about how he was fine and could walk on his own; but there was none of that. Bones put an arm around the younger man's back, hefting him into an upright position before taking the other arm and slinging it across his own shoulders. He tried to avoid looking into his friend's lackluster eyes.
"Easy, Jim," he muttered softly. "Let's get you out of here and patched up, eh?"
Jim just let his head hang, his chin bobbing against his chest. They made had almost made it to the turbo lift when he completely collapsed, limbs flailing, body falling heavily toward the floor. McCoy just barely slowed the descent enough to keep the Captain from further injuring his ribs, then laid him flat on the cool tile and whipped out his tricorder.
"Should've done this ten minutes ago," he grumbled to himself as the machine scanned Jim's body.
"Is he going to be alright?" Uhura asked urgently, her fingers reaching out to smooth Jim's hair.
The doctor grunted. "Physically, he's had worse."
"Do ya need any help doctor?" Scotty called, still standing next to the control panel. Uhura would have smiled at the bewildered look on the Scotsman's face, if the circumstances hadn't been so tragic. "Should I call up a gurney?"
"No," said McCoy. "He could wake up and…I-I don't want anybody seeing him like this."
"Just what in bloody blue blazes happened down there?" Scotty finally got up the nerve to ask.
"Scotty, aren't you needed in engineering?" McCoy snapped. It really wasn't his place, but he still hadn't had time to process everything himself, let alone explain to anyone else. Besides, he had bigger worries right now.
Scooping his unconscious friend up in his arms and ignoring the twinge of protest in his lower back, he entered the turbo lift with Uhura close behind.
"Didn't Spock call you back to the bridge?" he asked, his voice less venomous toward the communications officer.
She paused before answering. When she finally spoke, it was slow and full of concern.
"Look, I don't know what happened down there, but this," she waved her hands around the Captain's limp form, "is not normal."
McCoy sighed. "I know. And I wish I could promise that he's going to bounce back like he always does. But this," he shook his head, "this is going to take longer." He looked at her meaningfully. "He's gonna need us to be there for him, Uhura."
They held eye contact for a few seconds, Uhura trying to absorb the nuances in the doctor's statement, mentally collecting all of the underpinnings of meanings and possibilities behind his words. Finally she nodded, long dark hair bobbing with her head, and said, "Sure, whatever he needs."
Then the doors opened to sickbay, and McCoy exited the lift with his precious load.
The doors closed with a hiss, and Uhura was left alone with her thoughts, trying to compose herself so as to not give anything away upon her return to the bridge.
Well, what's the verdict? Please review--all comments/constructive criticism are welcome.