So, I tried the whole First Person POV thing. Let me know what you all think! Feedback is always helpful. :) xx
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters aside from the original ones.
Kaya
"Khan, how many stars do you think there are out there?" I pressed myself against the glass and tried to count the number of gas balls I could. We were on the observation deck of the S.S Botany Bay, spending our last few moments in peace before it was time to go under.
"Well, that question cannot be answered accuratley, Kaya. There is an infinite number of stars out there in the galaxy. As well as millions of other galaxies filled with planets and species of all kinds."
"Can someone get lost out there?"
Khan knelt beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
"Of course they can." He spoke softly. A tenderness filled his deep voice and put me at ease. "But whatever is lost is found." I turned to look at him.
"I would find you, Khan. If you ever get lost out there." I look back out the window, and into deep space. The vast darkness and endlessness is terrifying and fascinating at the same time. I couldn't imagine the loneliness one may feel out there .
He smiles and places a soft kiss on my temple. "I would find you too, Kaya. I will always find you."
I had stared at my hands for the last hour. Flipping them over incessantly just to make sure the blood was gone, or if it had been there in the first place. I had awakened in a new set of clothes that were too loose for my standard Starfleet attire. My hair was frizzy and dry, but the bed I awakened - also not my own - was wet. I almost started to panic in fear that I may have accidentally wet myself during the visions, but that would not explain why the entire bed had been wet.
The door to the room opened and in walked McCoy. He held a tray with a steaming bowl of something, and a glass of milk. He was muttering something inaudible when he noticed me sitting up in what I presumed was his bed.
"Good, you're awake. How are you feeling?" I looked over my body and did not see any bruises, my head was not hurting, and my mind was clear.
"I'm fine. Thank you, Doctor." I noticed him grimace when I called him Doctor, but only for a moment. He quickly regained his composure and sat the tray on the bedside table.
"I got you some oatmeal. It's the only Earth meal I could think of that would be light on your stomach, and filling."
I thanked him again, but this time I did not recognize his position.
"Before you eat, I'm gonna check you again. Just to make sure you didn't suffer from any trauma. Do you feel light-headed at all? Sometimes the sedatives can make people a little sick when they wear off." He pulled out that blasted contraption that I hated so much, and hovered it around my head. It made a tiny beeping noise, which I'm guessing meant it was reading my signs.
"No, sir. I am a little confused about how I got here, though. Also, I do not remember wearing these clothes." I say. The Doctor takes his tri-corder and puts it in his pocket, and I swear that his cheeks reddened before they went back to their normal color.
"That is because I transported you to my room, and those are my clothes. Yours were sopping wet and I didn't want you to get sick." He replied. "Do you not remember anything that happened last night?"
I almost slip up and mention my hands, because that is the only thing I truly remember, well, that and the images, but I decided to lie. "No, sir. Not much at all."
"Are you sure you're not suffering from any head trauma?" He chuckles. I shake my head and look at my hands. They are still clean, but I cannot get the blood out of my head. The sight, the smell, the taste of it; everything still lingers.
I hear him sigh before he takes a seat at the end of the bed. "Kaya," He begins hesitantly, as if he is afraid of using my name, but I distinctly remember telling him he could. Then again, he gave me permission to call him McCoy, and I have rarely done so.
"Last night, you were suffering from hallucinations. You kept crying about blood being on your hands. I'm here to say that there was no blood on you." Damn. I guess I couldn't keep up the ignorant act anymore. Even though the doc- I mean, McCoy, only meant his statement as a piece of pure fact, I couldn't help but feel comforted by it. It was if he was assuring me that I had done nothing wrong. That everything was okay and that the horror stories of Khan were all a big lie.
"I'm not sure what made you think that you had blood on your hands," He continued, "but I couldn't find any traces."
"It could have been something I ate, or lack of sleep." I joke. Maybe if I keep the conversation light, the seriousness of the topic we're discussing will dissipate. McCoy's eyebrow arches and he glances at the bowl of untouched oatmeal.
"I'll look into that. Maybe you shouldn't eat this." He reaches for the tray, but I gently grab his wrist.
"I'm sure there is no need to remove the food, sir. Like I said, lack of sleep may have been a cause as well." McCoy glances down at my hand and I quickly remove it, suddenly embarrassed by my actions.
"I apologize, sir. I did not mean to disrespect you in any way."
"No, no, you're fine." He hesitates for a moment, quickly straightening himself back up. "Well," He changes the subject. "I will be in the Med Bay if you need anything. The Comm Unit links to my office if you need to see me. Just press the button and I will come check on you."
"Of course. I'm sure that will not be necessary." I assure him. He scrunched his eyebrow and I berate myself once more. I can't stop offending this poor man, can I?
"Right, well, I- uh, want you to ge plenty of rest. If sleep deprivation was the cause of your hallucinations, then we need to fix that. If it was the food, then I will be speaking to the cooks about their meal quality. I don't want anyone else carrying on about blood covering their limbs." He jokes. I offer a small smile and nod.
"I will be sure to sleep and eat. I think this oatmeal will be just fine."
"Good. Ok, I will be in the Med Bay." He reiterated before turning on his heel. The door of his quarters opens and he leaves me alone without another word. I rub my hands against my face before falling back against the pillow again. I almost entertain the idea of going back to sleep, but the grumbling of my stomach says otherwise.
I take the bowl of oatmeal from the tray, as well as the spoon, and stir the soupy mixture around a little. I only eat half the bowl before I push it away. It may not cause me any hallucinations, but the oatmeal will most definitely cause me problems somewhere else if I eat anymore.
I get up from the bed and check out his room. It's quite messy for an older man; there were discarded clothes, dirty plates, and other oddities. It looked as if he had tried to straighten up because some of the clothes were folded and others were carelessly thrown into a bin. His living room area didn't have much in it as compared to others I am sure. Surprisingly, I found no pictures of his family; no wife, no children, no parents. There was nothing in his room to say that he had any family at all.
"Interesting." I moved over to one of his bookshelves and sifted through the many Medical Terminology textbooks until I found the one I was looking for. A small, worn, hardback book labeled: The Catcher in the Rye. A classic no doubt. I once read this book at a very young age, and it was quite old when I did. There was no telling how many years this book had now. I put in back in its place and explored his room a little more. Nothing else of any interest to me was found, but I had a feeling there was tons more outside of those large doors.
McCoy said that I could call if I needed anything, which hopefully meant he would be staying in the Med Bay all day. I imagine everyone else was working soundly and wouldn't notice a teenage girl walking through the hallways. What the hell! It was worth a shot. I moved toward the doors and the motion sensors made them open up automatically. I peeked down the hallway on both sides and noticed no one was in it. We must have been on our own floor or something.
Carefully, I stepped out into the hall and the doors shut behind me with a swoosh. There was no noise in the white-walled corridor aside from the sound of my feet padding against the ground. I sighed with relief and quickened my pace, just a tad. Although I knew no one was around, walking slowly wouldn't get me anywhere. I passed by many other corridors that lined with doors and led to other hallways that bustled with people. I stayed on the outer edge and decided against going through the congestion.
As I was walking, I noticed a large open room. There were no doors, no key codes, or guards. It was accessible and free to me. I walked in, and amazement filled me as I took in the view. The large plexiglass window spread from one side of the room, all the way to the other. The darkness of space painted the windows, and bright stars and constellations added detail to the beautiful canvas. I pressed my face against the window like a child; my palms stuck to the glass and it almost felt like I could touch the star with my bare hands. I could feel the warmth of the fire radiate against my palms and the tip of my nose.
"May I ask what you are doing?" I snapped from the glass and turned to see a tall man standing at attention in the doorway. His hands were neatly placed behind his back and his eyebrow raised to an unimaginable height.
"I was just looking at the view." I stammered. "It's breathtaking."
The man's pointed ears perked up and he glided across the floor until he was standing beside me.
"Do you need to practice any breathing exercises? Not breathing is hazardous to your health." He said. I looked amusingly at him. I didn't know whether to laugh at his joke or to actually do breathing exercises. He looked down at me and I saw something flicker in his eyes, almost like recognition.
"No, sir. I only meant that the view is quite pleasing." I turned my attention back to the moving picture projected in front of me.
"Are you supposed to be somewhere?" He asked, although I don't think it was much of a question. More of an order.
"I was in the Doctor's quarters, but I wanted to get out and look around. I'll go back now." I replied.
"The Doctor's quarters? May I ask how you got there?" His expression was void, but I could tell he did not believe me.
"He took me there. That is where I am staying for the time being."
He raised that God-forsaken eyebrow again. "Fascinating." He paused, eyeing me up and down. Were his eyes lie detectors too? "Allow me to escort you back."
"Ok." I shrugged. He walked by my side the entire distance back to the Doctor's room. He then punched in a code and I was once again taken back into the prison cell.
"Thank you, sir." I said politely. The man nodded politely back at me.
"There is no need to thank me. If you will excuse me, I must speak with the owner of this room." He left the room and the door shut behind him. I sighed and ran my fingers through the frizzy mess on my head.
"Great, now I'm going to get grounded, if that is even possible." I went back to the Doctor's bed and fell on it face first. At least I could get a nap in before McCoy came back to berate me.
I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. :)
P.S. The next POV will be Bone's and we will see how his and Spock's conversation goes.