Okay, I had a bit of fun with the way I show scenes that happen in the past, and scenes that happen in the present (in this story verse thing...) As mentioned there is potential for O.O.C. moments, I have tried to keep it as in character as possible, but we shall see how well I did.
That said, I do not own Star Trek, merely Damon, the plot, and a few other random things that might crop up and you won't recognize, I also hope you enjoy.
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The two of them moved to a quiet room, the camera tracing Bones every move, hesitant step after hesitant step, their destination a screen on the back wall, and a lone chair in front of it. Bones sat as Damon uploaded the data.
"You ready doctor?"
"As I'm gonna get."
With that, it was started.
*This Film is property of Starfleet, it has been edited for civilian view*
Jim sat in front of his desk, blue eyes wide and vibrant and alive, but also filled with sadness. "This is Captain James T. Kirk… private log. A crewman died today. I…I had to contact his family; it was something I felt I owed them. It shouldn't have happened. It was under my orders, he shouldn't have died. I don't…I know this is going to happen. It's something everyone signed up for, but it's just… It's difficult."
He took a breath, straightening slightly. "But, as previously stated, I'm the captain. I have to get used to it. As much as I do not want to, as much as the thought chills me to my bones, I have to get used to it…." The door chimed at that moment, and Jim, forgetting all about his private log turned around, "Enter."
"Captain." As soon as Spock's voice came from the speakers, Bones hunched, his eyes closing and his face pinching in something like despair. Damon noticed, pausing the clip mid frame, giving Bones a moment to compose himself while simultaneously framing in that one image exactly how important the two men on screen were to each other. Where Jim had been upset before, at the sight of Spock a wide beaming grin had stretched across his face, and Spock to those who truly knew him, could be seen with something of an amused eyebrow raise, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth.
Bones took a few deep breaths, and then indicated for him to play it again, there was a small countdown before,
"Spock!" Jim said and the half Vulcan gave him a small nod. "What brings you here?"
Spock tensed before straightening slightly and moving forward, his body language formal if not mildly familiar, "Doctor McCoy wished for me to come and, I believe his words were, 'get your puny brain out of your idiocy, and cheer you up.' I do not know how I can be used for the second, but I have been known for 'getting your puny brain out of your idiocy,'" Spock answered, an eyebrow rising in mild consternation at his words, Jim's laughter an immediate response, although there was a slow set of something like sadness creeping along the edges, he was still thinking of the crewmember. Bones gave a soft scoff from where he was sitting, watching the screen like a starving man watches food.
"He shall be coming shortly; I believe he is bringing something 'special'…" Spock said softly, moving over to the small table that had been set up with a tri-d chessboard, waiting for Jim to sit down as well.
Jim didn't, looking down at him anger reflecting in his face and the set of his mouth, "How can you sit there like that Spock, chess, drinks? A man's dead. He was killed, and we just…"
"Jim," it was the first time he had addressed him as such the entire conversation, and Jim automatically fell silent. "We must not punish ourselves for the loss of the dead. It does nothing for us, and it does nothing for them. We, captain, are going to play chess, and we are going to I believe…'toast' to his memory. Understand Jim, I do know what loss is, and I also know how to move on with it, and how bad it is to tie yourself to it. You must not tie yourself to it, Jim; you must learn to let it go. To celebrate their life, and continue living your own."
Jim blinked, slightly taken aback, and McCoy from where he sat on the lone chair, staring up at the screen to his past gave a soft smile and a low whistle, "Damn…"
Jim gave him a small tiny lilting smile, the words absorbing into his brain and slowly entering his heart. "Thank you, Spock."
"One does not thank the truth, Captain." That said, Spock set up the board, and Jim sat down, a minute into the game and McCoy entered, bearing a bottle of ale and glasses.
The differences to the McCoy on the screen and the McCoy in the chair were glaringly obvious and heartbreaking. Aside from the lack of gray hair, the McCoy on the screen greeted the sight before him with a smile, very pleased to see that Jim was taking care of himself; the one sitting on the chair looked like he hadn't smiled in years. One hazel pair of eyes were bright, even when they were glaring, the other pair were dark, worn. This fact was further emphasized by the shot that detailed McCoy's face as he was watching, the hollow short of detachment he had.
"Well I don't know what you said hobgoblin, but thank you."
"You don't thank truth McCoy," Jim said with a small smile, causing a snort from the doctor as he sat down, poured the ale into two glasses and handed one to Jim, catching sight of the recorder as he did so.
"Jim, you might want to turn that thing off."
"Huh?" Jim looked back, saw what he was looking at and gave an "Oh!" before picking it up and turning it off with a sheepish smile and a "sorry."
The screen went dark before reforming itself in an angle and location that made McCoy realize that he was watching the security feeds. It wasn't anything particularly interesting that had been focused on. Just the empty observation deck. McCoy blinked in slight confusion before the whoosh of the doors came and Jim walked in. He was alone, his head was bowed, and he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He made it to the railing in front of the large window looking out into space and leaned on it. The scene didn't change for a while, the numbers in the far right corner counting down the minutes and seconds. He recognized the date.
"Doctor," Damon said softly, catching his attention. McCoy looked back at him when the screen paused. "The scene does not change much, but I am guessing there is some reason for it, otherwise Mr. Spock would not have included it. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the reason."
"That date there was one of the most spectacularly butchered missions in the Enterprise's rather cursed career. I don't know why the hobgoblin included it, but I will tell you my guess. Neither Spock nor I were able to be around Jim, I was too busy trying to keep the hobgoblin alive; he was too busy flat lining. It was a science mission, Spock was running it.
"But the fact of the matter is that Jim had answered a distress call from another ship. While he was doing that, Spock and his team were being picked off one by one. They tried to hail the Enterprise several times. It wasn't until Spock managed to boost the signal and we began returning that we realized there was something wrong. We managed to beam Spock back, and two of the remaining Science Officers, both of them were human, and both had mortal wounds. They died, and Spock almost followed them out. The reason for this scene, Mr. Damon, is highlighting exactly what our captain did when he was unoccupied and didn't have us around after a crisis."
Damon paused, staring up at the screen and the man resting against the railing as though it was the only thing holding him up and nodded slowly. The movement resumed, and when there was the beep of a communicator, Jim flipped it open quickly, "Kirk here…"
"Jim, you can visit now. Spock's stable, the other two… They're dead, Jim. I'm sorry." McCoy's voice crackled through the communicator and Jim winced at the pronouncement, but seemed to brighten at the prospect of seeing Spock. But only just.
"I'll be right down…" Jim said softly, and left.
There was one last shot of an empty observation deck before it cut out.
The next scene opened with Spock, sitting in a mostly unused part of the ship on a stool, the only observer being the ones viewing the security camera, fingers dancing along an upright, harp like instrument. A Vulcan Lyre. The melody that came was lilting, twisting and sad, but strangely hopeful. He was pale and he seemed to be holding himself carefully. He looked run in. A moment later the door opened and Jim came in quietly, Spock was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't even notice.
The captain took the opportunity to sit on the floor near him, watching Spock's fingers as he played with his head propped on his chin and his elbow resting on his knee. Finally the last notes faded out, and Jim applauded him quietly, causing Spock to jolt slightly.
Jim gave him an apologetic smile, and gave a soft, "So this is what you do when you want to show emotion. I'm sorry I walked in on you like that, but I was wandering the ship and heard that rather remarkable music playing and had to see where it was coming from. You play well."
"Thank you, captain…"
"Jim, please, just because you actually managed to say 'thank you' doesn't mean you get out of it. Call me Jim," Kirk smiled at him wearily.
Spock didn't reply, instead sinking to the floor in front of him. "Captain, I would like to offer my apologies for the deaths of the individuals under my command." Jim was shaking his head before he even finished speaking.
"Spock, don't. It wasn't your fault."
"They were under my command…."
"And you had been trying to contact the ship ever since it went to hell. If I hadn't gone gallivanting off after another ship, then that wouldn't have happened. It was not your fault."
"Jim, you were rescuing that ship. It was unavoidable; I should have been concentrating on other ways to get the crew out of danger."
"Spock…I read your report. There was nothing you could have done."
"Then I suppose the most logical course of action would be to declare it unfortunate, but unavoidable." Jim blinked, staring at the half Vulcan in front of him with wide eyes, realizing he had been played.
"Why that pointy eared genius bastard!" Bones crowed out from his chair, showing more animation than had yet been seen.
"I apologize, Jim… But it needed to be done. I have been aware of your nightly activities for a while now. I wished to talk to you about it, but you have been avoiding my company. What you have seen and said is the truth, it is a way of letting out my emotions, and I do play, but I needed to gain your attention. Please, Jim... I believe you have called us 'friends' before, will you allow me to act as such?"
Kirk looked at him directly and gave him a soft smile. "Thank you Spock, for letting me in and trying to help. But I think I'm going to continue on my own path." He stood up then, and Spock stood up as well.
"If that is the case, perhaps you will allow me to accompany you."
Jim paused, blinking, and then gave him a soft smile, "Alright. That sounds good, after you Spock?"
"I will set this here, captain. I will be able to collect it later." That said the Lyre was left in the corner and the two of them continued out.
McCoy was the one the next shot focused on. He was standing near what had been Jim's quarters, the captain in question leaning heavily on Bones. The both of them seemed to be mildly tipsy. The doctor recognized it as one of their rituals of loss. They'd get shitfaced drunk, the pain was milder that way. The two of them had a bit more trouble trying to enter the access code than they would have liked, until the door next to them swished open.
Spock stood there, mildly dishelved, hair sticking up, and wearing black sweat pants and pulling his black undershirt on. He looked like he had just woken up, but didn't comment, merely pushed a few buttons for the two of them, helping the both of them in. That was another part of the ritual. A few moments later, Spock returned and walked McCoy down the hall back to his quarters.
It was always the middle of Gamma shift whenever that happened, so there was no harm to seeing any of them less than their best. Once again the frame stayed on that scene for longer than seemed necessary, but a moment later Jim came out of his room, looking much groggier and sleep tussled than Spock had. He turned to Spock's room and knocked. When there was no answer he knocked again, looking at the door helplessly and finally punching in some numbers on the code pad.
He let out a keening whine when he couldn't get it open, and slowly sank down next to the door, waiting for when Spock would return. He was whispering quietly to himself, Spock had apparently changed the volume a bit when he began researching it, because the words, "I don't want to be alone…" finally came through, repeating constantly and quietly. Spock came back a few minutes later, and immediately went over to the quietly rocking and whispering man and helped him upright, letting the captain lean on him heavily as he entered the code to his quarters and brought Jim in with him.
Later in the morning Jim came out of Spock's room, in the same clothes as before and looking well rested and sheepish, Spock came out as well, looking impeccably groomed and watching to make sure no one else had seen them come out of the same room.
"Thanks for letting me stay, Spock…you didn't have to…"
"It was no trouble, Jim. I have been aware of your fear and of what the alcohol you insist on drinking does to you for a while now. I apologize that I did not get back sooner."
"You shouldn't have to care for me like that…" Jim finally bit out, embarrassed and a little ashamed.
"I do not have to Jim. I choose to, just as Doctor McCoy would choose to should you let him in. He would be most displeased should he learn about your reactions."
"I don't want to be a bother to him…he's such a good friend and it's just…I don't want to impose."
"Jim…your thoughts are your own in this matter, but I must ask you to think about what your friend would say should he know. I shall see you in alpha shift later."
Spock turned around quietly and began walking away. McCoy had stared up at them in shock the entire time. His eyes widening as he slowly realized that what had supposed to have been a way to forget a tragedy had become a bigger tragedy when he left.
Spock had silently taken care of Jim when his fear of being alone had come out with the alcohol, and he had never told him. Had never told him what would happen to the captain whenever that would take place and Jim was alone to sit in his quarters, stare at the wall and contemplate his failures as a captain, as a man.
He had not known. He waved at Damon, the screen freezing in place as McCoy took a moment to process, face in his hands and thumbs rubbing at his temples. "Goddamn it Jim… Goddamn it…" He said quietly. He had thought it was enjoyable, Jim never said otherwise, and he had hoped that their ritual was as looked forward to as any of Spock's. Jim had never said anything, but now that he thought of it, it had been enjoyable for him. Whenever they did that in the Academy, weekends, random moments of friendship, the both of them had a good time. But Jim was never alone.
That was what tipped their gatherings from enjoyable to pain, but he had never asked him to stay. Didn't want to impose… He took a brief breath of air and looked back up, glaring at the screen, the half Vulcan's back straight and everything about him screaming of propriety, and the ruffled, grungy Captain standing in silent contemplation, his eyes following the man who was his opposite.
"Resume it…"
That said the scene resumed, Kirk still watching before giving a soft sigh. "I'm trying Mr. Spock… I'm trying…"
Time passed, and then opened with another private log. "This is Captain James T. Kirk, private log." His voice was quiet, his eyes were hooded and his mouth was pulled in a line. "Two of my crewmen are trapped on a hostile planet." He took a breath, his resolve cracking, slowly but surely before he finally slumped, his head in his hands and his posture slipping down. "Spock and Bones are trapped, on a hostile planet and they wouldn't let me come. I don't care if I'm the captain, I don't care if I'm supposed to be above the ordinary crewmen. I can't live without them. I can't."
He choked on a sob, "It's been two days. We still haven't heard from them, and Starfleet is only giving us the rest of the day before we have to go on. But we can't. I can't. I refuse to give the order. They can't die. They can't die. They're the only family I've ever had, the only ones that ever cared for me, and I can't lose them."
His shoulders were shaking, but he wasn't crying. Not yet. The comm. sounded, making his head lift up slowly and he reached out, pushing the button, "Kirk here."
"Captain! We have 'em! I'm beamin' 'em up now, a medical team is on standby, get down here!" Scotty's voice rang out; the smile could be heard in his voice it was that noticeable. Jim jumped up, his chair falling to the floor as he beamed from ear to ear,
"I'm comin' Scotty!" He shut the comm. off, and then his log, giving it a wide smile.
The next scene showed the sickbay. He remembered when they had insisted to have security cameras placed inside of it in places where the patients would be given privacy should curtains be set up, but otherwise would be in perfect view. Jim had stumbled in on what looked like a warzone. Nurses shouted at each other, the limp and bloody, but conscious body of their superior and the limp, and bloody and unconscious body of the commander moved from gurneys to biobeds, the shrill whining sirens belting their warnings. McCoy's own voice rang out, "Don't let him die, don't let him die, he can't die…" He was pale faced and had blood pooling at the corner of his mouth, but he was adamant. They finally sedated him.
A nurse McCoy recognized as Chapel took charge. Jim watched, unnoticed in the cacophony, as they fought to save the lives of his friends. He finally couldn't take any more and slunk out, into the hallway, where he looked around at the passing crewmembers.
A brown skinned African woman walked up out of nowhere and gently took his arm in her hand, steering him out of the main hall and into a quiet corner, the camera's tracking their progress. Finally they were in an empty room, and she sat Jim down on a table.
She reached over and placed a hand under his chin, slowly tilting it up, and looking into his eyes. "Jim…they'll be okay." Jim looked to the ground. Nyota changed her grip, cupping it, tilting it up farther until he had no choice but to look. She gave him a small watery smile, "They'll need you to be at your best when they're awake and can't do anything but lay there, so please Jim, believe me when I say they'll be alright."
Jim gave her a slight smile and let her wrap her arms around him in a friendly hug that was as much about her comfort as his. Finally she let go, and began engaging him in quiet conversation. When Jim's communicator sounded, he stood up, nodded to her and immediately left for sickbay.
When he was there he immediately headed to the curtained off beds that were right next to each other. He nodded at Chapel with a smile, the nurse inclining her head as well and smiling gently. The red and green blood on her smock was ignored, "Captain, they're stable. I think they'll be fine." That said Jim relaxed fully, and indicated the curtains.
"Go ahead, you get 10 minutes."
"I have a shift in five," Jim said with a soft smile. Chapel nodded, her eyes bright,
"Of course, sir…"
With that Jim slid between the curtains, out of sight of the security cameras. They could still hear his voice though, whispering his thanks that they were alive, telling them how worried he'd been, detailing quiet ships business for Spock and apologizing to Bones sarcastically that he'd have to listen to ships business when he's comatose. Five minutes later he left, smiling slightly, happy they were alive.
The next time Jim came back, Bones was awake, sitting up in bed and glaring crankily, shooting glances at the uncurtained area next to him and the half Vulcan who was lying on the biobed, either sleeping, or still comatose.
"Hi Bones!" Jim said happily, twirling the chair next to his bed and plopping on it backwards, crossing his arms over the back and smiling at him.
"Jim, remind me why I can't murder the hobgoblin?"
Jim's smile fell, "Because you'd hate yourself later, and I wouldn't be happy that one of my friends had killed another of my friends and was depressed about it." Bones blinked, and then sighed,
"Understatement I suppose." He bit out finally, looking over at Spock again with a much less angry frown, sadness leaking from every line.
"What happened, Bones?"
McCoy sighed, "They came out of nowhere, Jim. I don't know why we didn't expect it, but we didn't. We were examining one of those 'fascinating' flora species that Spock was rambling about, and then all of a sudden we were swarmed by these…things. I can't even describe them properly Jim… They were hideous as all hell, and way too damn intelligent for what they were said to be. Captured us and locked us up in some…thing. They just…tested us, tried to see how we ticked, Spock…melded with one of them. He was bleeding from the mouth and nose two minutes later."
"Oh…damn…why?"
"Apparently they were telepathic as well, didn't appreciate the intrusion from something they deemed a 'lesser species'," McCoy spat, glaring. "They gave him permission only to try and rip his mind to shreds. He prevented it from doing anything major, but…damn it Jim… I couldn't do anything but watch him bleed. I'm a doctor, damn it… I'm supposed to help people. Anyway…we managed to escape, and then the hobgoblin goes and does something else stupid."
"What did he do?" Jim asked quietly.
"That Pointy Eared Bastard took a damn bullet for me." McCoy snarled, "Right through the chest! Idiot's just lucky his heart's in his side or…" He swallowed, shaking his head. "We're lucky you found us when you did. I just took a nasty blow to my ribs and head…I'm fine though, Jim. So's Spock. He'll be just fine, just needs a bit of time to recover." His voice was gentle, his eyes sincere, knowing exactly the kind of hell Jim had been putting himself through unable to help what had become his surrogate family of brothers.
Jim wilted slightly, looking at the ground. "I was worried, Bones…"
"I know Jim, I'm sorry…" He sighed, looking at the ground and then over at Spock. "Green blooded hobgoblin…" He grumbled again, causing Jim to laugh.
"Take care Bones, I have a shift to get to. I'm glad you guys are alright."
"You better get your ass back down here afterwards, there's no way I'm gonna stay next to this idiot genius without a buffer."
Jim smirked at him. "I'll make it a point. By the way, tell him that he's an idiot for me, okay?"
"Now that I can do." Jim gave him one last smile, a rather overzealous bear hug, and walked out, leaving McCoy shouting after him in mock annoyance.
The next scene was what Leonard remembered as when Spock himself came out his Vulcan trance. McCoy was walking around sickbay by that time, and Jim was on his way. Any leftover hostility that McCoy had harbored was removed with each slap it took to bring Spock out of it. As soon as Spock grasped Leonard's wrist and nodded his head in thanks, McCoy collapsed on the chair next to the bed.
"Goddamn it Spock…Goddamn it…"
"Doctor?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow at him, slight confusion etched into that single gesture.
"You almost died you idiot…"
"The key word here, doctor, is 'almost'. As you can see, I am alive, whole might be too strong of a word, but I am still here."
"Yeah well…it was too close, Spock. You can't just take bullets for me, damn it!"
"I believe I can." Spock answered easily, raising an eyebrow at him. McCoy floundered, eyes wide as he gestured mutely. Spock's eyebrow rose higher, and he finally sighed. "Dr. McCoy, when you release me to quarters, I would request that both you and the captain come. I have something to show you. Something I need to explain."
"Can't tell me now?"
"No…It is something that needs to be shown. But I do not have the strength and clarity of mind to attempt it at the moment."
"Crazy Vulcan meldie thingie?"
Spock's eyes rolled in minor exasperation, "Indeed."
"Alright…" McCoy said softly.
Jim took that moment to arrive, plopping down on the bed next to Spock, smiling at him happily. "I'm going to hug you."
"If you have no other choice…"
Jim pulled him into a brotherly hug, grinning slightly, "I'm really glad you're still alive, Spock…" he whispered finally. Spock patted him on the back and under McCoy's urgings lay back down, his eyelids closing, and slipping off into sleep. The two friends still awake spoke quietly, still keeping even a sleeping Spock close to them, the only place for him.
