Chapter 4

Two days later: Engineering Deck, Scotty's office.

Complete silence.

Normally, he would've been talking to someone. Listening to music. Laughing at some silly joke.

He sat on the tiny couch, staring at the floor, expressionless.

He had honestly forgotten how bad it was. How much it hurt. And not just mentally either.

Scotty had folded his arms over his stomach, trying to mask the feeling of snakes slithering through his gut. He closed his eyes.

Broken images flashed through his mind like camera shots behind his eyes.

Her pained expression as she saw him leaving. Her laughter. Her wearing her silly striped orange hat in front of Loch Ness…

Too much. He opened his eyes again.

A knock came on the door.

Scotty kept silent.

Another knock.

No response.

The door swung open, revealing Jim.

"Captain," Scotty said, standing at attention.

"Have a seat," Jim ordered him.

Scotty flopped back down onto the couch.

"Dr. McCoy told me about what you saw."

Dr. McCoy…the engineer thought, he's using Bones's real name. This doesn't bode well.

"Since then you haven't been able to do your job, Scotty."

Silence.

"Friend of yours?"

Scotty's throat tightened.

Jim glanced out the window. "I'm signing you up for counseling."

"Counseling?!" Scotty blurted out.

"Well what did you expect?! You're sitting here on your ass, you can hardly concentrate on interacting with anyone, much less fixing the ship! It's ridiculous!"

"What d'ye want me to do?!" the engineer shouted, clutching his head in his hands. "I'm not a bloody Vulcan, I can't jes' shut this up and lock it away in a box!"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm telling you that unless you pull yourself together somehow I'm going to have to replace you."

Jim's eyes were deadly serious.

Scotty glared at the floor. "Aye, sir," he said, quietly.

"Thank you. You have an appointment with Dr. McCoy tomorrow at 1100 hours."

***

Sickbay, 1056 hours, the following morning:

"You want me to do WHAT?!" Bones demanded.

"Bones, come on! It's not like you're busy!" Jim pleaded.

"You might've told me about this yesterday before you told him!"

"You'd've come up with an excuse not to do it!"

"I can't be a goddamn counselor! Make Uhura do it!"

"He won't listen to Uhura! You need to do this!"

"Why me?!"

"Because you're a doctor!"

"Medical, not psychiatric!"

"Listen. I don't have time for this. I need to meet with the Acting Captain of the Madeleine and I'm supposed to be there—" he checked the clock on the wall, "—five minutes ago! I'm begging you, Bones, just grab a stylus and a PADD and pretend to write down everything he says, ok?"

"What the hell am I supposed to say?!"

"I don't know! Make up some bullshit medical mumbo-jumbo! Put him on pills if you have to!"

"What's the point of this, then?!"

"You saw what he was like! Bones, he's losing it! I need your help with this. Please?"

Bones rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh. "Fine," he muttered.

"Thanks. I owe you one. See ya!" Kirk grinned and sped out the door as fast as he could, before Bones could change his mind.

Bones picked up his stylus and a PADD and glared at the door as Jim disappeared around the corner.

What the hell do I do? he thought, irritably.

He stood there for a minute or two, indecisive, before finally walking into his office and breaking out two bottles of beer. He was waiting with one in his hand when a very depressed and disgruntled-looking Scotty entered.

Bones thrust the beer at him. "Jim told me about this five minutes ago, so drink up and spill it."

Slightly surprised, the engineer took it and drank.

"How'd you know her?" Bones asked, wearily.

"Sorry?" he questioned. This was not how he expected a psychological analysis to unfold.

"Good god, man," the doctor burst out, annoyed, "You are neither that good at lying, nor that dense. The cancer patient you were weeping over two days ago!"

"…Right," the engineer said, quietly.

Stupid! Bones screeched mentally, cursing himself. "Sorry," he apologized, "That came out kind of harsh."

"S'all right. Her name's…was…Susan Wright. Girlfriend. Ex. Sort of."

Bones nodded, solemnly, thinking back to his divorce. "Y'wanna tell me about it?"

"Not really, no, but I don't seem to have a choice, do I?"

Bones shook his head.

Scotty shrugged. "Walk with me?"

"Sure."