After four days as Head Nurse, resigning from the position was suddenly very appealing.
It was not so much the added paperwork, which had a tendency to simply materialize on the corner of my desk each morning, nor the added time in Doctor McCoy's company, from which I was constantly learning the many uses of sarcasm. Instead, my desire to vacate the position of Head Nurse stemmed from the morning senior staff meetings.
My Vulcan upbringing made it impossible to ignore acknowledging how illogical it would be to leave such a high and beneficial position for such a small matter as biweekly meetings. Drawing from the one meeting I have attended, I cannot even claim them to be tedious or dull. Somehow, despite revolving around normally monotonous subjects, they felt less formal and professional and more relaxed and social. Furthermore, it would only be logical to remain Head Nurse, if only to work directly with Doctor McCoy and acquire the skills and knowledge that I had yet to learn. The doctor within me was unbelievably pleased with my position because while I am not necessarily the head of the Medical Unit, as Head Nurse, I at least had greater authority and answer only to the CMO.
However, it seemed that the Vulcan and Human within me were constantly at odds as the Human half of me, is shaken and scared, wanting nothing more than to leave my position, leave the Enterprise, and if possible, leave behind the entire space sector if only to avoid coming face with my brother every other morning at the staff meeting.
...
My attempts to mediate at what the crew dubbed, "early morning," were interrupted by knocking at the door.
As Head Nurse, I had the privilege of having an individual room aboard the Enterprise. A luxury I realized quickly my first night aboard, as I turned up the heat to mirror the temperature that had once resonated on Vulcan. After having a number of subordinates come knocking to my door with paperwork in need of immediate signatures I had become rather adequate at racing to the room's control console and turning down the temperature to what passed as adequate for humans. So as to not raise suspicion of the visitor by opening the door and having a gust of heat escape the room.
Therefore, in less than 0.9 minutes, my room had been rid of its Vulcan heat and I was opening the door to a very grumpy doctor.
"Senior Officer Meeting," he said in lieu of a greeting, "Let's go." With that, he gestured impatiently for me to exit my doorway and proceed down the hall.
Though we have only been working together for four days, I already knew better than to try to argue or hold a conversation with the doctor so soon after he woke up. So I accepted the silence between us as we walked to what I assumed would be a conference room. He surprised me however, by offering a reason for the sudden meeting without prompting.
"The Captain holds a Senior Officer Meeting every other morning so get used to being deprived an extra hour of sleep," the Doctor began by saying. I didn't bother to point out that that lost hour meant little to me, considering that I only required 5 hours of sleep as a half-Vulcan. Nor did I bother pointing out that I was half-Vulcan to start with.
"Since I know you didn't transfer here from a different starship," McCoy continued, I stated mildly but he seemed not to notice my taken back expression at his knowledge of my background, "I'll just say you should be thankful that it's only an hour since some captains have been known to hold daily 2 hour meetings. So this means, don't miss the meetings since the Captain's technically not asking for a lot."
I bristled slightly at his warning. I would never miss a meeting anyway, regardless of if I wanted to be there or not.
"The meetings are meant to let everyone know what's going on in different parts of the ship with different sections of the crew. It just helps to keep everything running if a Senior Officer gets injured and is stuck in Sickbay that the other members already know what is going on in his department."
Though he seemed to be talking more to himself at this point than me, I nodded in understanding.
We paused just short of a conference room that was slowly filling with crewmembers that all looked rather rumpled and sleep deprived.
McCoy hesitated before turning to face me fully for the first time this morning.
"Listen, Gray…" he paused, clearly out of his depths with what he was trying to say.
I cocked my head to the side, in an attempt to look curious and approachable. It only seemed to make him more uncomfortable.
"You're gonna feel out of place in there for a while," he started slowly. That didn't make any sense, I failed to see how a room could make me feel misplaced. "Everyone in there has been through hell and back, what with that whole Narada Incident."
His last two words had me mentally reeling back. It was so much more than an Incident. The name that the humans had decided upon for the loss of Vulcan felt so inadequately termed to stand in for the loss of billions of innocent citizens and the destruction of an entire planet...the destruction of my home.
"Don't be discourage, Gray, 'cause it's a tight-knit group in there and it might take some time for you to find your place."
At this, he reached out to pat me awkwardly on the shoulder and out of instinct, I flinched, bracing for a blow that never came. He didn't seem to notice thankfully.
While I did not understand his need to explain this to me, I did understand that the physical gesture was meant to soothe any uncertainties I might have.
With this completed, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at having finished his attempt to reassure me and turned to enter his code into the console, motioning for me to enter first when the doors opened.
Upon entering the room, I did not understand why he felt the need to warn me about feeling out of place.
As the Captain had yet to arrive, I noted that all the individuals in the room held a Senior Officer position; therefore, no one could claim a higher status or more power. Furthermore, it was plain to see that age would neither be an issue, as everyone appeared to be around my age, save for one boy who looked particularly young. It was also pleasing to see a mix of species in the room, it was something that had clearly lacked on Vulcan, save for Spock, my mother, and myself.
No one appeared particularly...intimidating to deal with, but that could be attributed to their bleary eyes and obvious fatigue. These last few days of settling into the ship after the disaster they had apparently faced had been harrowing on everyone. There was damage to be fixed, families to be contacted, and crew member positions to filled.
McCoy nodded to a seat, indicating which was to be mine for the next five years, before stomping off to join the other Senior Officers flocking to the replicators. It mildly amused me to watch as the crowd parted as the Doctor neared, as they allowed him to bypass the line and head straight to the replicator. There was nothing particularly shocking about this simple deference, as I had quickly learned that the crew would do just about anything to save themselves from McCoy's pre-caffeinated wrath. Moreover, if that rampage wasn't enough to scare any individual into giving up their place in line for the doctor, their respect for his lifesaving work made up for their lack of fear.
I was surprised however, when McCoy came back with two cups and laid one in front of me. In it, was the tea that I favored. At my questioning gaze, the Doctor gave a careless shrug and slumped into the chair at my right, before dedicating himself to his coffee. I brushed away the unexpected warmth that filled me, attributing it simply to the sip of tea I had taken. He must have noticed, me drinking it in our office while updating patient files.
As I waited for the meeting to start and the absentee Captain to arrive, I glanced around the room to study its occupants and their interactions. It was then that I understood why McCoy worried I would feel "left out."
I saw their familiarity with each other plainly as they easily brushed past each other at close proximity, but never flinched when a hand was laid on their shoulder in passing nor when an unexpected presence appeared at their back. It was even more obvious in the way they slumped into their seats, one by one, each clutching a cup of coffee possessively, yet teasingly reaching out to steal a sip from another cup. The warmth they plainly wore in their sleepy gazes as they snatched their stolen cups back was further softened by the easy banter they exchanged with one another. Even the way they wordlessly had designated cups that were lined on the counter next to the replicator seemed almost intimate.
It made me uncomfortable to witness and even more uncomfortable not to be a part of. The small part of me that always ached at the sight of this easy familiarity came to life. It was moments like these when I felt my loneliness acutely and my thoughts would drift to Spock.
Though I felt like an intruder in these private moments, few paid attention to me, other than a few curious expressions every now then. But other than that, they seemed content to sate their need for coffee before satisfying their curiosity regarding the stranger in their midst.
I forced myself to turn away from these interactions and their guarded glances at me. At least the latter was familiar…it was the way they used to treat on Vulcan...as an outsider.
At this, I suddenly understood the Doctor's surprisingly perceptive words and tried to repeat his words and voice in my head.
As I turned my attention pointedly back to my own cup of tea, I realized that the Doctor had been watching me while I had watched everyone else. I easily slid in to a neutral expression of preoccupation but it was too late, as he had already sensed my discomfort. It surprised me, the ease with which he swiveled his chair slowly to bring our shoulders softly into contact. It made me wonder if it was something he had done with Nurse Chapel but quickly brushed the thought aside because, illogically, his action did make me feel reassured and a tiny bit less alone.
At that the point, the conference room doors opened to reveal a grinning and chipper Captain who strode confidently to his chair, after making the seemingly prerequisite stop at the replicator for a cup of coffee.
McCoy shifted his chair away from me and I wondered why I was left feeling bereft.
"Okay, let's get this thing started," the Captain yelled from the head of the conference table, while spinning his chair lazily in a circle. There were two seats that yet to be filled, but the meeting began nonetheless.
The room of bleary-eyed senior officers turned their attention from their emptying coffee mugs to the front of the room. No one seemed particularly awake, but rather they all seemed to be looking for salvation in the distasteful brown liquid that humans seemed to favor. All the while, I carefully sipped my tea, which was no match for the traditional Vulcan flavors, but was a suitable substitute.
"Bones! Let's start with you introducing your new, lovely Head Nurse." Again, a wink was sent in my direction. Similar to the other day, I ignored it, having yet to complete my research on the subject.
Doctor McCoy sent a baleful glare in the Captain's direction, which was dampened by his sleepy, rumpled appearance. It seemed as if he had just rolled out of bed as well. Nonetheless, he nodded in my direction, where I sat just to his left.
"Nurse Gray here-" McCoy was roughly cut off by the Captain's pointed cough.
"I think you mean, 'Doctor' Gray, don't you, Bones?"
At this a few eyes seemed to light with recognition and a woman of African descent even managed a small chuckle and eye roll at the Captain's reference.
The CMO shot another glare at the Captain, who was still spinning in circles in his chair, but corrected his mistake, albeit with heavy sarcasm, "Doctor Gray, as I was saying, is the new Head Nurse." At this, a few bleary eyes wandered in my direction, while McCoy continued on, "So if any of you idiots manage to land yourself in my Sickbay," there was a pointed look at the blue-eyed man at the head of conference table by all the senior officers, "Gray will be the one to keep me from hypoing you into next solar system for your carelessness."
At this blatant threat, eyes darted to me again, appearing decidedly more alert as they stared their fill at the woman that apparently would be saving them from the Doctor. What an interesting twist in irony.
Before this threat could be followed up by another of McCoy's glares, that seemed to dare the staff to see what would happen if they got injured, the conference room doors slid open once more.
"Mr. Spock! Everything okay on the Science Laboratories?" the Captain called out to the new arrival.
While I had known that he is the First Officer of the Enterprise, it was jarring to actually see him fulfilling his post. Clad in blue Starfleet officer uniform and black slacks, he seemed foreign and distant from the brother I had left behind on Vulcan. Of course, there was something that remained unchanged. His Vulcan hair for one seemed to have changed neither in style nor length. Even the color of his skin was just as pale as it had been when we were growing up, untouched by years under the Terran Sun. His height, for the most part, seemed unchanged, but somehow, he simply seemed bigger and possibly even more filled out.
However, this could just be the bias of a little sister, who always saw her brother as biggest and strongest person in the entire universe. Years later, just being the same room from him made me want to relax and give in to the familiar, safe and protected feeling he seemed to resonate. As a child, I had basked in his presence, but now, I wanted nothing more than to escape him because he made me want to let my guard down. The problem is: he is the one I need to protect myself against.
As he strode towards to his chair at the Captain's right hand, I slowly shifted myself to be partly hidden behind McCoy's slumped form. I felt my lips twitch in amusement. It almost felt like a twisted game of hide-and-seak, which he had despised playing when we were younger. He hated having me out of his sight.
My attempts to avoid his gaze were needless however, as my brother kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked by. Somethings never change. Yet, it was surreal to watch him sitting in the conference room after years of hearing and seeing nothing of him. Then, to have him suddenly before me, in the flesh, caused an unexpected pang to shoot through me.
'Don't think about it,' my mind softly repeated.
"The minor explosion was contained within the Laboratory's walls. There was minimal contamination and damage to surrounding areas. Ensign Kalagen and another crewmember however, were in the room when the explosion occurred and have sustained a number of injuries," Spock reported.
Though I had been studiously avoiding looking in direction, my eyes shot up at the barely audible hesitation in his tone. But it seemed no one seemed to notice the slight how he had purposely omitted the name of the second injured crew member, nor the darting glance he shot at the one chair that was unoccupied. Everyone save the Captain apparently, as he gazed long at my brother, seemingly having their own conversation. The easy grin that I had thought to be constant expression, slid off quickly.
"An explosion? God damn it man, keep a tighter leash on your science officers. Do you know what would happen it had blown through the bulk?" McCoy exploded in what, at first glance appeared like anger, but was truly worry, while shooting up in his seat. I mirrored the Doctor's position as he agitatedly shifted forward in his seat, somehow just managing to stay out of my brother's line of sight.
"I am well aware of the consequences that would occur had the bulk be breached, Doctor McCoy," Spock replied smoothly, "However, Ensign Kalagen had no way of knowing that the experiment would result in an explosion and therefore can only be partly held accountable for his actions."
Of course Spock would defend the poor boy. After all, how many accidents had he caused, all in the name of scientific experiment and curiosity. Following the first five or ten incidents, my mother had given up on worry and settled instead on exasperation and amusement.
"Perhaps, your attention would be better served in Sickbay as Helmsman Sulu seems to be having a reaction to the spores released by the explosive reaction of the plant they had been experimenting on."
The entire conference room seemed to awaken. Though they had hardly seemed phased by the explosion, they now donned a suddenly solemn expression. Eyes that were once bleary with sleep were suddenly bright with attentiveness. Everyone was alert, hanging off of Spock's every word. I found it odd that my this new found attentiveness all started when he had mentioned a crew member by the name of Sulu-the one he had purposely omitted earlier. Alarmed gazes were also shot at the one vacant chair in the room, as if they were hoping that Helmsman Sulu would appear on it.
McCoy was suddenly on his feet. The severity of the situation struck me, when I realized he had not even reacted to my brother's underhand insult at where the Doctor's expertise and knowledge lie.
While I had made it a point to challenge McCoy every step of the way-since and even before becoming Head Nurse-I did not object when he roughly commanded me to follow him back to Sickbay. Though my obedience was partly out of desperation to escape from my brother, the other half was perpetuated by a sudden need to help the man that meant so much to all these people...that seemed to mean something to Spock.
Often times, back on Vulcan where I head earned my title as a certified Doctor-before the Captain had rechristened me after a Terran Television show-it was not uncommon to have patients in critical condition, to go the duration of their stay at the hospital without receiving a single visitor. Spouses, co-workers, and acquaintances alike saw no point in stopping by, claiming it to be an illogical waste of time that can better be spent meditating or working.
Somehow, I could already tell that that would not be the case aboard the Enterprise. Just a glance backward at the stony, anxious expressions had me fighting the urge to run up to Sickbay, lest these senior officers beat me there first.
One particular boy-for he surely could be no more than 18 given his obvious youth in his face and his slight build-seemed particularly stricken. With eyes wide and blood draining from his face, I worried that McCoy and I might have to drag him up to Sickbay with us, on a stretcher if he were to fall unconscious. Before this could happen however, the woman of African descent intervened. She hurried to his side, murmuring quiet reassurances that I pretended not to hear. I was thankful she managed to lure the boy back into the safety of his chair and off of his trembling legs. The rest of the officers followed suit, staring at one another with gazes that somehow managed to say what words could not.
So even as I hurried to stay in McCoy's shadow and safely out of my brother's sight, my mind was already back in Sickbay, with a man by the name of Sulu.