One Week Later
Palisades Health Center
"It's good to see you back on your feet, Mister Kirk," T'Pol spoke softly as she came into the reading area and saw Jim sitting in an easy chair with his cane on his knee while he read. "How are you feeling?"
Jim sighed, "Tired, but I guess that's normal," he replied softly. "I had the tubes in for six days."
T'Pol offered a nod, "Is that lady who attacked me okay?" Jim asked in a quiet voice.
"Hoshi Sato was transferred to the in-patient psychiatric ward at San Francisco General Hospital until other arrangements can be made," T'Pol replied softly. "Her presence here endangered others."
Jim looked concerned, but didn't argue because he personally knew that Toriadol could destroy someone if they got exposed to enough of it. He had spent much time in Tarsus Prison, watching in silent agony as Warden Kodos and Frank used the deadly substance to experiment on prisoners instead of adhering to appropriate laws. T'Pol raised an eyebrow at Jim's sudden faraway look.
"Your thoughts are on your past experiences," T'Pol observed. "And Toriadol, I presume?"
Jim nodded, "It is approximately two weeks until July," T'Pol spoke softly. "How does that…"
"Bones only paid for a month, so I hope it's enough," Jim spoke anxiously. "I've written letters and kept my journals like you asked and I'm less nervous about food. I….I even sent emails to my friends."
T'Pol took a seat beside Jim, "Have they replied?" she asked softly. "I trust you told them…"
"I did, but I only heard from Chekov," Jim replied. "I'm sure the others aren't sure how to react…"
T'Pol looked thoughtful, "I doubt they are scared of you," she replied softly. "Do not think that."
Jim shrugged, "At any rate, Mister Kirk, you have a visitor," T'Pol spoke quietly. "If you want it."
Swallowing hard, Jim set his book aside and got up whilst leaning on his cane, "Do I need to walk very far?" he asked in a concerned voice. "It wasn't easy to even get to here from my room."
T'Pol turned towards the doors and Sam suddenly came into the common area wearing jeans, shoes, and a loose shirt, "Sam?" Jim asked in a confused voice. "How…how did you even know I was here?"
Sam sighed, "The Vulcan Elders apologized via the media for violating your personal space and stated they were not aware of your aversion to physical touch," he replied quietly. "I brought the issue…"
Once Sam produced the paper, Jim snatched it and his eyes widened as he read the article; it turned out to be a piece penned by Empress T'Pau. T'Pau had apologized for bestowing a Vulcan blessing without first seeking Jim's consent and alluded that the trauma of his time in Tarsus prison and his rape by Carol Marcus may have been triggered by the unwanted touching. Jim felt the color draining from his face.
T'Pol quickly escorted Jim back to the chairs and eased him into a sitting position, "You are still recovering," she spoke in a concerned, quiet voice. "Being on your feet for a prolonged…"
"Recovering?" Sam asked in a confused voice as he walked over to the chairs. "From what?"
Jim sighed, "I was attacked by a patient who was tortured in Romulus for years and she choked me before making my lungs collapse," he replied softly. "I had tubes in my chest for six days."
Sam's eyes widened in shock, "Are you getting everything you need?" he asked worriedly.
"I'm writing a lot about our past and my past and it's helping me let it go," Jim replied softly, his expression concerned. "I hadn't expected the Vulcan Elders to speak in such a frank manner…"
Sam sighed as Jim handed the newspaper back, "I don't know if I want to say anything," Jim admitted quietly. "I sent messages to all my friends about me being here, but only Chekov wrote back and he's not really saying much about how things are. I can't help but wonder if secrets are being kept from me."
"It is the middle of summer," Sam replied kindly. "Perhaps they'll get back to you soon."
Jim shrugged, realizing that worrying about things he couldn't control would only hurt him, "Could…could you sit and maybe we could visit a while?" he asked softly. "Please?"
Sam nodded, "Aurelan's at a playgroup with Peter, so I have time," he replied as he sat in a chair.
Starfleet Hockey Academy Campus
"Dean Archer, you have an incoming call from Washington, D.C.," Office Assistant Barrows, who had just returned from holidays, announced over the intercom in the office where Dean Archer was enjoying some quiet time with Porthos. "Shall I patch it through to your private video phone?"
Dean Archer quickly got up and went over to his desk, taking a seat as he pressed his intercom button, "Yes, Tonia, patch it through," he replied in a concerned voice. "I'll be just a moment. Porthos."
As Dean Archer activated the viewscreen, the boyish face of Andrew Mathews, recently elected President of the United States, appeared on the screen, "Captain Archer, how are you?" President Mathews asked as he ruffled his salt and pepper hair. "I've heard of your wonderful campus…"
"I haven't had personal conversation with a president in a while," Dean Archer replied in a suspicious voice. "I heard your predecessor was run out of office for his reaction to the attack on…"
President Matthews sighed, "That president was apathetic to the hardship that the Vulcans suffered when their arena was bombed because he was a racist and a purist," he replied firmly, his expression grave. "Perhaps if the president had been more proactive, the Vulcan Elders would not have been left vulnerable enough to behave out of character. I read the article that Empress T'Pau of Vulcan penned."
Dean Archer sighed, but said nothing, "I also heard that a certain someone who attends your school knows how to speak Combat Romulan," President Matthews said softly. "A James Tiberius Kirk?"
"Who told you that?!" Dean Archer replied angrily, frowning. "That was a confidential…"
President Mathews looked amused, "With all due respect, it's not common for those on American soil to know the Romulan language, let alone Combat Romulan," he said calmly. "I did some digging on Kirk and found that he was an inmate of Tarsus Correctional Facility when Kodos the Executioner was warden?"
"Kirk's stepfather forced him into prison under bogus charges," Dean Archer replied coldly.
President Matthews nodded, "Obviously," he replied softly. "Anyway, Captain Archer, I was wondering if I might speak with Mister Kirk personally at some point in the near future? I want him to help us."
"Mister Kirk…you want to speak with him personally?" Dean Archer asked sternly. "Why?"
President Matthews sighed, "Nothing harmful," he replied quietly. "I know you told me that Hoshi Sato was rescued from being a POW on Romulus, but you also mentioned that she is incapable of any sort of communication. James Kirk is the only functional person in America who possesses such knowledge…"
"Kirk's having some health problems at the moment and won't be available until July," Dean Archer replied calmly, determined to protect Jim and his recovery from scrutiny. "That's all I can offer."
President Matthews nodded, "July is a lovely time to visit San Francisco," he replied calmly. "It will give me time to research incentives based on information I have that might help Mister Kirk be willing to help. I can access quite a bit of information that may motivate cooperation."
Before Dean Archer could reply, the call ended, "Crap," he muttered. "Now I have to convince Kirk…"
As Dean Archer reached for the phone to call Jim, however, it rang and displayed the infirmary's number.
"You want to visit Kirk?" Dean Archer asked in a concerned voice as he sat in a chair beside the bed where Spock was resting after his latest round of rehabilitation. "How are you coming in your rehab?"
Spock sighed tiredly, "Doctor McCoy and Doctor Phlox are otherwise occupied and I am well enough to be transported to Mister Kirk's location with supervision," he replied tonelessly. "I must speak with him."
Dean Archer looked worried as Spock made no effort to move from his bed, "My father has made it abundantly clear that he does not wish to see me before his relocation and I feel I must reassure Jim that we still have a functional friendship despite the Vulcan Elders violating him," Spock spoke softly.
Sighing, Dean Archer watched as Spock shifted in bed as if he wanted to try getting up, "Spock, you just barely had brain surgery and I'd say it's a very bad idea for you to go anywhere outside the hospital just yet," he spoke firmly. "I know you want to reassure Kirk, but I'm not going to let you risk your health."
"I did talk to Nyota this morning before she left for her practical work downtown and she expressed a similar concern," Spock spoke softly. "The diabetes makes recovery…somewhat complicated."
Dean Archer nodded, "I am also emotionally compromised because I am not used to being without the presence of other Vulcans," Spock replied in a softer voice. "Their moving is affecting my emotions."
Deeply concerned, Dean Archer clasped his hands together, "I know that T'Pol and Trip aren't going to move from San Francisco," he said in a concerned voice. "Having one Vulcan around should help…"
"I'm sure she also feels the strain of their relocation," Spock replied softly, his expression tired.
Dean Archer sighed, "Spock, you look exhausted," he said worriedly. "You should rest."
"I cannot," Spock replied softly, his expression serious. "Not without medicinal assistance."
Nodding, Dean Archer pressed the medical button, "At your stage of recovery, it's normal to require medicinal help," he replied calmly. "I mean…you just had brain surgery. You won't be feeling perfect."
"Vulcans are supposed to maintain a measure of composure at all times," Spock spoke in a voice that began to tremble with tiredness. "To show emotion disrespects the traditions of our forefathers…"
Just then, Leonard came into the hospital room, "Spock needs a little medicine to help him sleep," Dean Archer spoke quietly, his expression somber. "Spock, are you wanting me to call any of your family to…?"
"The Vulcans who suffered emotional downturns after the war never sought help, as the culture believes that seeking help is a weakness," Spock spoke softly. "I just require assistance to sleep properly."
Dean Archer nodded and watched as Leonard walked over to the bed, "This thing right by your hand is a pain button," Leonard explained as he directed Spock's hand to the button. "If you press it…"
Spock sighed and Dean Archer quietly excused himself to the hallway, but he wasn't alone for very long before Leonard came out to him, "I saw the article that T'Pau penned and I tried to get the paper before it got to Spock, but he saw it," Leonard spoke worriedly. "He's not in a good mood now."
"I wasn't expecting T'Pau to write something like that," Dean Archer replied worriedly.
Leonard sighed, "Um, Doctor McCoy, I could actually use your medical expertise on a serious matter," Dean Archer explained quietly. "The President of the United States wants to talk to Kirk…"
"I saw how Mathews campaigned and he's not someone I'd trust to be on the up and up," Leonard growled, scowling. "I think his motive is shady and I don't think Jim should be exposed to that."
Dean Archer nodded, "He's coming to San Francisco in July," he replied in a worried voice.
"Did he say why he wanted to talk to Jim?" Leonard asked worriedly. "I didn't know you knew him."
Dean Archer shook his head, "I used to lead Enterprise Military Base and after the service we gave in the First War, the Presidents have stayed in contact with us," he explained. "Mathews was elected in after the previous president acted apathetic over the bombing of the Vulcan Embassy Arena."
"I do follow politics," Leonard replied grimly. "Mathews didn't say anything about why?"
Dean Archer suddenly looked unsettled, "He mentioned his fascination with Jim knowing how to speak Combat Romulan," he spoke slowly. "The ongoing war with the Romulans has strained resources."
Leonard swore, "So Jim's being used as a political pawn," he replied, sighing. "How can I help?"
"I don't know yet," Dean Archer replied softly. "I was actually thinking of going to the mall."
Leonard frowned, thinking that Archer was off his rocker, "Malcolm Reed owns it and I've heard he's going back to work today," Dean Archer spoke softly. "Maybe if Reed knows the language…"
"Then the President won't bother Jim?" Leonard finished softly. "Do you mind if I come? I'm a doctor."
Dean Archer frowned, "Reed might get upset about this and it's Phlox's day off," he replied. "All right."
The mall had undergone significant renovations in the last few months since Reed's return from Romulus, one of them being an upper level exclusively for mall administration and mall staff to linger, store possessions, and take breaks in. It was as if Reed was emphasizing the importance of privacy for staff.
"This place looks expensive," Leonard muttered as he followed Dean Archer off the elevator and on to the third floor of the mall and promptly noticed Hendorff seated behind a desk outside the offices sporting a mall security uniform and looking tired. "Hendorff, I didn't think you could get…"
Hendorff shrugged, "Despite my parents, I still have friends," he replied. "Here to see Mister Reed?"
Dean Archer nodded and Hendorff eyed Leonard suspiciously, "And you, McCoy?" he asked quietly.
"Malcolm Reed is recovering from injuries sustained on Romulus," Leonard replied. "I'm an MD."
Hendorff scoffed, but nodded and waved them into the offices. It didn't take them long to find Reed's office, which was nestled in the corner of an atrium and had a see through door that showed a wooden desk, a rolling chair, a fish tank, a television, security screens, and a futon that Reed was resting on. Reed was wearing a pantsuit and leather gloves that looked very out of place on a hot summer's day.
Dean Archer and Leonard entered the office and Reed slowly got to his feet, his task made easier by the loose pant-suit he was wearing over a boot and a walking cast, "What brings you here, Captain?" Reed asked in a concerned voice as he moved over to his desk. "Heard I decided to come back to work?"
"I thought you had decided to take a vacation?" Dean Archer asked worriedly.
Reed scoffed, "I don't think it will do me any good to do anything but continue to give back to the community through my work," he replied, sitting at his desk. "I just need to focus on this."
Leonard frowned, "I'm surprised the government didn't force a debriefing on you," he replied. "I know that's protocol for soldiers who come home from combat or for those taken hostage in wars."
"That's the doctor in you talking," Reed scoffed, waving at the chairs. "Have a seat, will you?"
Dean Archer and Leonard sat on visitor's chairs even though both were now feeling uneasy about Reed's comments and demeanor, "Matthews got his hooks into me while I was still in the hospital and he recommended that I return to work as soon as possible so I wouldn't be tempted to engage in behaviors unbecoming of a former soldier like I did after the war," Reed explained in a bitter, tired voice.
"I thought you went to visit your parents in England when you got back?" Dean Archer replied worriedly.
Reed shook his head, "My parents wanted me to follow in their footsteps and when I didn't, they disowned me," he replied bitterly, his expression sad. "After the war, I came back to the States and managed to get into school and build a life. The trauma, though, eventually became too much and I ended up with nowhere to go and I lived on the street for a while before I sold drugs just to get food and drinks…"
Dean Archer looked appalled and Leonard sighed, "Did you get addicted?" Leonard asked quietly.
"Got arrested before I could," Reed admitted softly. "I spent a lot of time in a correctional facility for it and was encouraged to clean my life up. I was one of the last inmates admitted before Warden Kodos bought the place off the county and I knew there were Romulans there, but I avoided them…"
Dean Archer sighed, "So you don't know their language?" he replied. "Not like Kirk?"
Reed let out a dark chuckle, "I saw him in there and he was forced into playing nice with his new roommates by that whacko stepfather of his, but we never interacted because I wasn't one of Frank's charges," he replied in a sad voice. "I was in a different program…more minimum security."
"You…you were in the same prison as Jim?" Dean Archer replied, deeply stunned by this revelation.
Reed sighed, "We're not discussing that and no, I can't save him from whatever sick nonsense that idiot president is trying to rope him into," he replied firmly. "I can't deal with the stress of that and trying to visit Hoshi before she's sent to Hawaii with the Vulcans. I visit her every day and it's too hard…"
Dean Archer watched in horror as Reed suddenly popped open a drawer and took out a prescription pill bottle, "Cutler was a good nurse and she's an even better doctor," Reed spoke, helping himself to a couple of pills from the bottle. "I used to be a top combat Lieutenant and I'm reduced to taking medication for the trauma I suffered during my return to Romulus. Without these, I struggle…badly."
"Why didn't you come to me?" Dean Archer asked softly. "I could have connected you to Phlox…"
Reed scoffed, "Phlox has become a national hero for his work in learning how to filter Toriadol from blood and no doubt he'll make America cheer when Mister Tucker gets the procedure done next month," he replied in an irritated voice as he got to his feet and threw the bottle back into the desk drawer.
Leonard frowned as Reed hiccupped and stumbled as he moved away from the desk back towards the futon, "You're drunk," he spoke sharply, wincing as he caught the whiff of alcohol. "How much?"
"Just enough to take the edge off," Reed snapped. "You can show yourselves out."
Leonard, however, stepped in Reed's path, "Mixing alcohol with medication meant for anxiety and depression is dangerous," he growled, his expression angry. "What exactly were you trying to do?"
"Do you mind leaving?" Reed slurred, shoving past McCoy. "Don't make me call Security."
Dean Archer suddenly noticed that Reed was limping, not stumbling drunk, "Malcolm, what's wrong with your foot?" he asked as Reed sat on his futon. "That smell…it's rubbing alcohol, isn't it?"
Reed sighed and rolled up his pant leg, revealing a large bandage on his leg just above his ankle, "You swore to Trip and I that you stopped doing that," Dean Archer spoke sternly, looking upset.
"If you were tortured by the Georgiou Empire and then had to deal with a severely handicapped friend, you'd probably do it again too!" Reed snapped, flipping Dean Archer off. "You and Commander Tucker have it easy with your cushy jobs and your accolades while the rest of us struggle each and every…"
Dean Archer silently pressed the Security button and Hendorff promptly appeared, "Nathaniel, I need you to help me secure Malcolm," he spoke sternly. "He's a danger to himself right now and has been self-harming. McCoy, since you're a doctor and a witness, I need you to write a crisis care statement."
Reed paled, crouched into a ball, and promptly burst into quiet sobs. He, however, did not fight when helped to his feet by Hendorff and Leonard, "I have to take you to Palisades," Dean Archer said softly.
Palisades Health Centre
Several journals sat on the dresser beside the bed where Jim slept after spending time with Sam and having a filling breakfast. Sam had promised to return and Jim found himself feeling emotionally lighter after sharing what he had learned about himself and his past. The process also made him very tired, as his lungs and body were still healing from Hoshi's attack and T'Pol had quickly sent him for a nap.
"...I wouldn't ask for this favor if it wasn't absolutely essential, T'Pol," Jim suddenly heard Dean Archer say in a concerned voice as footsteps passed by his room. "I'm afraid Malcolm might attempt…"
There was a sigh, "If Doctor McCoy can fill out the proper paperwork and conduct a lengthy enough assessment, it should be enough for crisis care," T'Pol spoke softly. "I am qualified to assist Mister Reed."
Malcolm Reed? The mall owner? Jim thought worriedly as he continued to lay there and listen.
"I'll take care of the payment," Dean Archer spoke softly. "How…how is Mister Kirk doing?"
Jim slowly sat up and cringed as pain shot through his healing chest. The rest had energized him, but it had also prompted the pain medication he had taken last night to wear off and leave him vulnerable.
Gritting his teeth, Jim slowly got up and grabbed his cane as he made his way out of his room. He promptly stopped when he saw Dean Archer and T'Pol lingering nearby, staring at him quietly.
"I…I need to get to the med dispensary, Doctor T'Pol," Jim spoke softly. "The pain meds wore off…"
T'Pol nodded, "It's good that you're recognizing when it is appropriate to seek help," she replied in a calm voice as she walked over to him. "Perhaps a wheelchair escort would also be beneficial?"
Jim nodded and exhaled, "I guess I've got a ways to go before I'm better," he spoke softly.
Dean Archer silently grabbed a wheelchair that had been left loose and brought it to Jim, "I can take him wherever he needs to go, T'Pol," he spoke softly. "I need to have a private word with him."
"I can show you," T'Pol offered, sensing that whatever her friend had to say wasn't altogether good.
Silence filled the air as Dean Archer delivered Jim to the medication dispensary and watched as he got himself some of his pain prescription, "So what's the word, sir?" Jim asked, giving Dean Archer a look.
Dean Archer sat in a chair across from Jim and sighed, "The President of the United States, Andrew Mathews, wants to meet with you," he explained quietly. "He knows you know Combat Romulan."
Jim frowned, but didn't say anything, "He's coming to San Francisco in July and I have a horrible feeling he won't take no for an answer, but I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable doing," Dean Archer spoke nervously. "I've also decided to open a case against those who have been bullying you."
"I figured someone would tattle," Jim replied with a sigh. "What's involved in that?"
Dean Archer sighed, "I collect statements and evidence, both of which I have," he explained in a patient voice. "Since assault and destruction of property has been involved, it's considered a criminal matter and I have asked the police in the areas where Mister Clemens and his friends are from to question them."
Jim looked uneasy, "They're really manipulative," he replied quietly. "I'm not sure you'll get them."
Dean Archer sighed, "I also owe you an apology for not noticing and providing help for your issues sooner," he spoke in a remorseful voice. "As Dean of Starfleet Academy, I'm supposed to notice…"
"I read in the paper that the Vulcans are moving to Hawaii," Jim spoke softly. "Cause of me?"
T'Pol sighed, "The bombing of the Vulcan Hockey Arena intensified deep feelings of trauma already burdening those who survived the crisis of Vulcan long enough to immigrate and settle in San Francisco," she explained in a patient voice. "Deneva's destruction has also created a new level of trauma…"
"Can't they just get counseling or even spend time in here?" Jim asked quietly, frowning.
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, "Vulcans are very private people and would not benefit from counseling with people who do not understand their culture," she replied tonelessly. "It is Vulcan tradition that those who are emotionally compromised seek isolation and meditation to stabilize their emotions."
"So they put themselves in jail?" Jim replied in a confused voice. "How does that help them?"
Before T'Pol or Dean Archer could reply, the doors leading to the public area of the centre slid open and Officer Tucker came into the area wearing civvies and holding a sleeping Lorian in a chest sling while holding a baby bag in his right hand. He looked around before walking over to them.
"Hey, I got a group text that Malcolm was here?" Officer Tucker spoke worriedly. "Who's he visiting?"
Dean Archer sighed somberly, "He's not visiting, Trip," he replied, his expression somber.
"You guys group text?" Jim asked quietly, frowning. "Is that sort of like Pike's support group?"
T'Pol got up and moved away, prompting Officer Tucker to follow her, "If Vulcans aren't into therapy, why's a Vulcan running this place?" Jim asked in a confused voice. "Or is she an outcast?"
"That's T'Pol's story," Dean Archer replied gently. "You could ask her about it if you want."
Jim nodded and watched as Officer Tucker and T'Pol talked for a few moments before Officer Tucker passed the baby to T'Pol and went off down a hallway. Jim sighed and suddenly looked anxious.
"This president…he's coming after I'm out, right?" Jim asked nervously, his voice shaking slightly.
Dean Archer sighed patiently, "This isn't a prison," he replied. "It's a health facility."
Jim raised his eyebrows, "Yes, he's not coming til July," Dean Archer replied simply.
"I guess I could meet him," Jim replied quietly. "If I don't meet with him willingly, he might order me to do it or throw me in jail. I know this is a free country, but politicians…"
Dean Archer looked concerned, but Jim's wristwatch suddenly beeped, "Oh," Jim spoke in a quiet, apologetic voice as he checked it. "It's lunchtime and I have to go eat something."
"I should get back to campus anyway," Dean Archer said, standing. "I have work to do."
Jim nodded and waited until Dean Archer was gone before he made his way to the cafeteria, not at all surprised to find it filled with other patients. He silently grabbed a tray and made his way over to the food line. As he waited, he heard some anxious swearing in the corridor.
"…I'm supposed to be better than this," an anxious voice spoke. "I was amazing…"
There was a sigh and Jim turned just in time to see a calm looking Officer Tucker lead an anxious looking Malcolm Reed, who was now sporting a hospital bracelet along with baggy pants, a dark cardigan, and a black shirt. He was wearing sneakers and looked tired.
Reed cringed at all of the people in the cafeteria and froze when his gaze suddenly connected with Jim's, "I…I'm not hungry," he finally spoke shakily. "I…it was my fault he suffered."
Jim frowned, as he had no recollection of Reed before seeing him at the mall, but Reed obviously knew him from somewhere, "Uh, Mister Reed, hi," he spoke nervously as he left the line and walked over to Reed. "I…I don't think we met before I saw you at the mall…"
Reed looked confused, as if he couldn't believe what Jim was saying, "I'm not fully sure of all my memories yet, though," Jim went on softly. "I had brain surgery for tumors a couple of years ago and Bones said it would take time for a complete recovery. Have we met before the mall?"
"No…it must have been somebody else," Reed replied, taken aback. "My…my apologies."
Feeling like Reed wasn't being honest with him, Jim gave him a strange look before returning to the food line. Reed silently speedwalked out of the cafeteria and back to the room that T'Pol had assigned him, unaware that Tucker had followed and was bewildered by Reed's behavior.
"You told McCoy you were hungry," Officer Tucker spoke worriedly. "You need to eat."
Reed scoffed, "Leave it alone," he hissed angrily. "I don't deserve to breathe the same air as James Kirk, let alone be in his presence. I stayed quiet when I could have helped him…"
Officer Tucker frowned, "What are you talking about, Malcolm?" he asked worriedly.
"I already unloaded my soul at the mall," Reed snapped. "I can't say any more…"
Not wanting to say anything more, Reed sank on his bed and promptly buried his face in his pillow, unable to keep himself from crying any longer. Officer Tucker's eyes widened in shock and he just stood in the doorway, deeply stunned that his friend was outright crying. In all the years they had known each other, Malcolm Reed had never given such a display of emotion.
Starfleet Hockey Academy Campus
"This obsession with finding Khan isn't healthy, Pavel," Captain Pike spoke in a concerned voice as he sat with Pavel in the campus library, both of them doing computer research on Khan. "I'm sure that the…"
Pavel scoffed and sighed, "Khan newer had a funeral and I know ze gowernment said zey vould handle eet, but zey deed not," he replied in an unusually irritated voice. "I need to know vere he eez so zat I do not geet keednapped and almost keeled again. I do not vant heem to hurt any of my friends, eizer…"
A site bearing Khan's photo and information suddenly popped up on Pavel's screen and he frowned; he hadn't expected the additional search permissions he had to produce any results, "He eez on an island named Ceti Alpha, in ze Romulan borders," Pavel spoke quietly. "As a Romulan citeezen."
"There's nothing we can do about it, unfortunately," Captain Pike replied. "I'm sorry, Pavel."
Pavel sighed, but nodded glumly as his phone rang, "Hello?" he said as he answered it. "Meester Spock?"
Captain Pike frowned as Pavel nodded, "I can come right now, yes," Pavel replied softly. "See you soon."
Pavel quietly put his phone back in his pocket, "Spock vants to see me," he replied quietly. "Is...is he allowed to hawe veesetors vile he ees recowering? I am nerwous about upsetting heem."
"Spock's been through a very hard time lately," Captain Pike replied. "He could use a friend."
Pavel nodded, "I'll see you at dinner," Captain Pike spoke kindly. "Go and see what Spock wants."
It didn't take Pavel long to walk to the infirmary from the library and when he got to Spock's room, he was surprised to see T'Pau there, quietly sitting at Spock's bedside with a basket of things in her lap. "Grandmother, this is Pavel Chekov," Spock spoke in a weak voice, gesturing to Pavel.
Pavel bowed nervously, his expression nervous as he did so, "Hello," he spoke in a respectful voice.
T'Pau raised an eyebrow, "You show proper respect, Pavel Chekov," she replied in a regal voice. "Perhaps you are not like the elder Chekov despite the rumors. Spock tells me you are a kind young man."
Pavel looked surprised at Spock's compliment, but he said nothing because T'Pau was both a royal and a Vulcan and Captain Pike had taught him how to act around Vulcans, "Spock has informed me that he would like you to perform the figure skating program in his place due to his illness rendering him physically incapable to," T'Pau spoke quietly. "Are you adverse to performing the program for Spock?"
"Me?" Pavel replied in a surprised voice. "I deed not know zat anyone knew of zose talents I had..."
Spock sighed, "I had observed you in your earlier school years participating in figure skating for recreation," he replied tiredly. "Mister Sulu also talked about you figure skating for fun..."
Pavel sighed, "I can do eet eef I practeece," he replied softly. "How are you feeling?"
"Quite tired," Spock replied softly, sighing. "I am also taking medicine to assist in my recovery."
T'Pau suddenly rose and set the basket on the bed, "Spock, I must depart and assist in the moving preparations, but we shall visit again before the Vulcans relocate," she spoke softly. "Peace."
Spock raised his hand in a special salute and nodded as T'Pau left the room in silence, "I am quite honored, but I am quite confused," Pavel spoke softly. "Ze exheebeetion eez een August..."
"I will not be strong enough," Spock replied softly. "I will show you a video of what to do."
Pavel nodded even though he wasn't sure of his ability to figure skate as well as Spock could. Spock silently retrieved his phone and opened a video that Nyota had taken of him practicing his skating.
Palisades Health Centre
It was mid-afternoon by the time Reed felt safe leaving his room and going to the cafeteria to eat something. He was now alone, as Officer Tucker had left to spend time with his child and Leonard had also disappeared. Reed had submitted to being admitted for as long as T'Pol and McCoy felt he needed to be there with a promise from Dean Archer that the mall would be taken care of until he returned.
Thankfully, the cafeteria was now empty and as he got himself a chicken salad, a juice, and a roll, Reed could see other patients out in the courtyard, busying themselves with garden work or other outdoor activities that were designed to invite healing. Eating his lunch quickly became a priority, however, and he found himself focused on his food. He was sure that he would be made to participate in other activities eventually, though, and didn't know how he could get out of such petty dalliances.
Since he hadn't eaten since last night, Reed finished the food in short order and then decided to see if there was an indoor leisure room that included a library. Since the horrors of the First War, he had never liked being around people if he could avoid it; he preferred to watch them from afar and avoid contact.
It didn't take Reed long to find the indoor leisure room and he quickly found a book of short stories that made him feel at ease. He quietly settled himself in a chair and began reading, blocking all else out.
Reed was so engrossed in his book that he didn't notice Jim and Leonard come into the room, having just finished one of the official counseling sessions that Jim was required to undergo during his stay. The sound of footsteps travelled across the floor, but Reed ignored it because he liked being invisible.
"…Bones, I don't remember the trail being that long," Jim's tired voice suddenly filled the air.
Reed froze, recognizing Jim's voice straightaway, "It seems long and difficult for you because your lungs are still recovering and your stamina needs to come back up," a gruff voice replied. "You'll get there…"
Terror filled Reed and he looked up from his book, watching as Leonard got himself and Jim some water from one of the many coolers around the centre. He couldn't help but notice how pale, thin, and worn down Jim looked; perhaps if he himself had actually been of help, Jim would be in a better place than at that very hospital. Jim looked even worse than he had when they had met at the downtown mall.
Sighing heavily, Reed got up and quietly moved to the water cooler, intending to get some water that he could take to his room with him. Jim noticed him and waved, but Reed pretended he hadn't seen it.
Jim eyed Reed suspiciously, "Hey, are you okay?" Jim finally asked, frowning. "You look ill."
Leonard frowned at Reed's body language; the man was acting as if Jim was some sort of ghost that he didn't know what to do with, "I…I couldn't help you then and I can't help you now, I'm afraid," Reed spoke in a quiet voice, his hand shaking as he got himself some water. "I'm so sorry, James…"
Jim's eyes narrowed and Leonard suddenly looked concerned, "You act as if you know me," Jim spoke in a confused voice, frowning. "How did you know my name was James? Not everyone knows that."
Reed paled, "Um, I remember that guard calling you that," he stammered, unable to lie.
Jim's confusion grew, "Wait, are you talking about Tarsus Prison?" he asked in a curious voice.
Reed suddenly lost his courage and nodded, unable to say anything. He turned away and muttered another apology at seeing the mixture of confusion and upset now on Jim's pale face. He then silently left the leisure room and returned to his room, cursing his cowardice and inability to open up.
"Was that guy just kidding or was he being serious?" Jim asked in a confused voice. "I…I don't…"
Leonard sighed, equally confused by the interaction and concerned by it, "Jim, do you mind if I look into this further?" he asked quietly. "As a medical professional, I have access to lots of information that others don't and I can see if this guy was just messing with you or if what he's saying is real."
"What if it's true?" Jim replied quietly, sighing. "I try not to think about Tarsus…"
Leonard looked worried, but Jim exhaled, "Yeah, check it out," Jim finally said. "I need to know."
Nodding, Leonard watched as Jim exhaled, "I'm kinda tired now," Jim admitted. "I might nap."
"Yeah, that's a good idea," Leonard replied gently. "I'm going to go and do research on what just happened at the Academy infirmary because they have access to other information databases."
Jim sighed anxiously, but went off in silence, leaving Leonard alone and deeply worried.
Starfleet Hockey Academy
"McCoy, I thought you were visiting Kirk?" Leonard heard a voice ask as he sat in the med-library several hours later, silently researching Malcolm Reed and trying to see if his claim about Tarsus was true.
Leonard turned to see Nyota standing in the doorway, a small bag of takeout in her hand, "I thought you were at practicum," he replied gruffly. "Don't you also cover the evening news?"
"Not since the attack and Spock texted me that his grandmother visited today, so I thought I'd bring him some Vulcan cuisine," Nyota replied quietly. "They sell it at an ethnic food shop over near where I work."
Leonard nodded and Nyota wandered into the office, "Malcolm Reed?" Nyota asked, peering at the screen. "I remember reading about him. Wasn't he one of those who fought in the First Romulan War?"
"Yeah," Leonard replied quietly. "He claims he knows Jim from Tarsus and I'm trying to research that."
Just then, Pavel, who had spent a considerable amount of time visiting Spock and learning the way to conduct himself for the exhibition, came into view and stopped when he saw Leonard and Nyota in the med-library. He wandered in and his eyes widened when he saw the topic they were researching.
"Oh, I know heem," Pavel spoke quietly. "He eez ze owner of zat mall downtown."
Leonard sighed and Nyota looked confused, "Pasha, what are you doing here?" she asked softly.
"Spock asked me to do ze exheebeetion skating for heem and vas showing me weedeeos so zat I vould be able to practeece," Pavel explained in a nervous voice. "I must go geet Meester Scott to unlock ze arena for me so I can geet practeeceeng. I saw you een here…"
Nyota sighed, "We're trying to find out if Malcolm Reed was at Tarsus Prison," she replied.
Pavel nodded, "I can do zat," he replied nervously. "I know vere to look for ze information. Move."
Leonard gave Pavel a look, but moved and Pavel worked quickly at the computer for several minutes before exhaling, "Zere," he replied, gesturing to a website dedicated to those involved in historical events and their families. "I am on zees site because of my fazzer and I am sure Malcolm Reed eez also here because he eez a weteran of ze Romulan var. I can access zees because of who I am."
"See what connections Reed has to Tarsus," Leonard replied. "And if they connect to Jim."
Pavel silently inputted the information and gasped as several journal entries uploaded and donated by a JT Kirk appeared in the search results. There were several mentions of a 'Red Angel' in the entries and JT mentioned that the Red Angel made sure he got what he absolutely needed; the Red Angel had never revealed himself and had taken several beatings for his services, but didn't stop and was also known around the prison as a spy against Warden Kodos's experiments and JT's protector. JT also shared that other prisoners spoke of the Red Angel as being someone who the less experienced guards trusted and divulged information to. Around the time of Jim's release, the Red Angel also vanished.
"So zees Red Angel made sure Jeem deed not die," Pavel spoke quietly. "Zees entries…"
A throat cleared, "What are you all doing in here?" a stern voice suddenly asked.
The group turned to see Phlox and Dean Archer standing there, "The med library is for medical research and alerts me when students are using it for non-medical research," Phlox explained in a firm voice.
"Phlox called me and I'd like to know what you three are doing," Dean Archer replied firmly.
Leonard sighed, "Something weird happened today," he explained. "Can I have a private word?"
Dean Archer and Phlox went into the hall with Leonard and talked for a few moments while Pavel quickly emailed the entries about the Red Angel to his private email to further his research. After a few more minutes, Phlox motioned for him and Nyota to come out and so they logged off the computer.
"I won't penalize you this time for computer misuse, but please don't share the information you found," Phlox spoke quietly, his expression suddenly solemn. "Pavel, you and Nyota are free to leave."
Pavel and Nyota quickly left, with Pavel going to find Captain Pike and Nyota going up to visit with Spock, "I'll be going to visit Malcolm tonight and Phlox wishes to come," Dean Archer spoke quietly. "I know you were trying to help Kirk, but he doesn't want people to know that he donated those entries to that site."
Leonard nodded, "I'm not going to tell anyone," he promised. "Jim just wants to know what's going on."
Palisades Health Centre
By the time Dean Archer and Phlox arrived for evening meal, they found that Reed had requested supper to his room because anxiety was keeping him from wanting to go to the cafeteria. Thankfully, the evening staff quickly directed them to Reed's room and offered to get them food, which they accepted.
Reed's food, however, sat untouched on the tray and Reed was sitting in a chair, silently reading the book he had borrowed from the leisure room, "Malcolm?" Dean Archer asked quietly. "You all right?"
"Whatever I touch turns to crap," Reed replied softly, his expression somber. "I can't even seem to help a kid in jail without causing hardship and getting myself beaten as a reward. Hoshi's a mess because I…"
Dean Archer and Phlox quickly sat on the couch, "That Jaylah person who was with you, I spoke to her before she went back overseas with the Sulus," Dean Archer spoke quietly. "She said you were very tired and physically 'down' when you brought Hoshi to her. Even when you first came back, you were…"
"Georgiou and her minions caught me quickly and I was tortured," Reed replied tersely. "Apparently, the Neros kept Hoshi locked away for years and tested various doses of Toriadol on her to try and make her submissive. When the Neros fell out of power, Georgiou took Hoshi as a prize. I was told all this by the Empress after she requested to meet me. She knew who I was and what I was doing there…"
Phlox sighed softly, "You were right, Phlox," Reed spoke softly. "I shouldn't have done it."
Dean Archer looked at Phlox, deeply confused, "I'm not one to tell you what to do," Phlox replied.
Reed exhaled, set the book aside, and got up to go to his bed, "In short, I tried very hard to protect young Mister Kirk in Tarsus and ended up getting punished quite severely when I was caught," he explained softly, taking a seat on his bed. "I still carry scars from that and other things…"
Dean Archer suddenly went very quiet, "McCoy, Chekov, and Uhura found some journal entries of prisoners in Tarsus that talked about a Red Angel," he finally said softly. "Did you know them?"
Reed paled slightly, "What on earth were they snooping around for those for?" he asked softly.
"Because Kirk asked McCoy to see if what you said about Tarsus was true," Dean Archer replied.
Reed exhaled, "The Red Angel was a legend at Tarsus," he replied softly, his expression very somber as he looked at his friends. "It was a man who was broken by horrors of the past, but saw someone younger than him who was even more broken by a corrupt system and a corrupt staff. He also saw many suffering due to unethical experiments and man-made famines and decided to do something to ease the pains…"
Sighing heavily, Reed rested his walking cast on his bed, "The Red Angel was dubbed the Red Angel because he paid the price for his angelic services with his blood when the guards beat him so badly that he lost half his blood volume on the prison floor," he explained quietly. "They also broke his hands and tried to poison him so he couldn't do any more of his services. If not for the ministrations of others, including the broken boy, this legend would have died. Now, the Red Angel is merely a memory of those who survived Tarsus, but many choose to forget even that. Who would want to remember that place?"
"So you've never told anyone this before now?" Dean Archer asked quietly. "Not even Phlox?"
Reed scoffed, "I knew it was futile to say who I was when Kirk said he couldn't remember," he replied in a cynical voice. "I doubt he'd even remember the Red Angel. He was just a young man…"
"You should have contacted me," Dean Archer replied worriedly. "I could have helped you."
Reed sighed, "You had just opened your campus," he replied softly. "You were busy."
Tears filled Reed's eyes, "I suppose I will have to tell Kirk the truth," he spoke shakily. "Soon."
"You should talk to a therapist first," Phlox spoke up firmly. "Get help to talk to Mister Kirk."
Reed nodded, "Is that why you wear gloves a lot of the time?" Dean Archer asked. "Your hands?"
"I get terrible arthritis in them if they get too cold," Reed replied quietly. "I have to hide it."
Dean Archer looked thoughtful, "I asked for dinner in here so I don't run into Kirk before he's ready to hear it," Reed spoke softly. "I'm sure McCoy will tell him about his research and Kirk will ask questions."
Just then, an orderly knocked on the door, "Did you request meals?" she asked softly.
Dean Archer nodded and the orderly delivered a cart bearing two extra trays of food before silently leaving the room, "I suppose I'll try to eat now," Reed spoke softly, grabbing his tray. "I must."
Starfleet Hockey Academy
"Pasha, it's suppertime," Pavel heard a gentle voice speak. "Do you want to go out or stay in?"
Pavel, who was sitting at his computer silently seeing if he could figure out who the Red Angel was, sighed heavily. The mention of the Red Angel in the journal entries had triggered a memory from his childhood and so he had sent a few of the entries to himself to see what he could learn about it.
Footsteps filled the room and Pavel sighed, "Ze Red Angel vas een Russia around ze time I vas een preeson veeth my fazzer," he spoke softly, eyeing the information on the screen. "He vas zere…"
Captain Pike frowned and sat on Pavel's bed, "The Red Angel?" he asked quietly. "I didn't know you emailed some of that stuff to yourself. I thought Dean Archer said to not speak of it…"
Pavel sighed and looked at his adoptive father, "I know I said zat ze Dean ordered me not to speak about eet, but eet treegered a childhood memory," he spoke softly. "Of my time in ze Russian gulag."
Captain Pike looked concerned, as he had been told by Phlox to not dismiss anything Pavel did that triggered memories of his time in Russia. Pavel didn't speak of his childhood much simply because he couldn't remember much of it; the trauma he had endured was hard on him in every way.
"I remember zees person een ze gulags getting food or ozzer seengs for ze preesoners, but I newer saw heem," Pavel spoke softly. "One night, zo, I vas told to sleep outside as a puneeshment for crying during ze work day and I vas alone. All of a sudden, zees man clad completely een black came out and told me to come veeth heem because he vas going to take me to someone who could take care of me."
Captain Pike's eyes narrowed, but he continued listening patiently because he never knew how Pavel had gotten out of the gulag; he had met Pavel at a pub in Russia after the boy had come in needing refuge from the winter's cold. The pubmaster had known of Pavel being in prison because of Andrei's deeds and had let him stay, unwilling to let the boy suffer a worse fate. Captain Pike had been in Russia searching for Pavel after receiving an anonymous email that he was needed to help rescue the son of a monster, but he had no luck finding Pavel on his own. The stranger, however, had brought them together.
"Ze man spoke veeth an accent and he took me to zees willage," Pavel spoke softly. "He directed me eento a pub and paid ze owner to let me rest. Ze man left and you came after a wery long time. I asked heem who he vas and he vould only tell me zat he vas the Red Angel and had to go on ze run."
Captain Pike looked stunned and quickly moved over to the computer, as he could see that Pavel was on the verge of crying. Pavel quickly saved his work on the computer before letting the tears out. Pavel sobbed for several moments and Captain Pike simply held him, unsure of what else to do or say.
"I'm proud of you for exploring that memory when it was triggered even though it was very hard to do," Captain Pike spoke gently, gently rubbing Pavel's back to calm him down. "I want you to talk to your counselor about it, but not until you've calmed down. If you don't want to, that's perfectly fine…"
Pavel sniffled and sighed, "I vant to, but I need time before I can talk about eet to anyone besides you," he replied in a shaky voice, his expression anxious. "I cannot beliewe Jeem posted entries about hees past on zat site. I do not seenk I could do zat. Eet vas bad enough ven ze reporters vere snooping."
Swallowing hard, Pavel rose, but his legs gave out and Captain Pike quietly helped him up again. He helped Pavel into the living room and settled him on the couch under a very thick quilt, "You know you can't get overstressed anymore," Captain Pike spoke gently. "Your kidneys might shut down if you do."
"I know zat I become seeck from ze anxiety," Pavel spoke softly. "Vill zat problem ever go avay fully?"
Captain Pike quickly hurried into the kitchen and came back with a glass of juice and some medicine in an intricately decorated bottle, "Take some of the medicine Phlox prescribed you for your condition and rest," he spoke gently, measuring the medicine out for Pavel. "I'll order some Chinese takeout, okay?"
Pavel obediently took the medicine and drank the juice, "Do you ever regret eet?" he asked weakly, his voice fading as the medicine quickly took effect to relax his overstressed body. "Adopteeing me?"
"Never," Captain Pike replied quickly, but in a calm and firm voice. "You're mine and I love you."
Pavel nodded and closed his eyes to rest, wanting the medicine to do its job properly, "I lowe you too, Papa Chrees," he whispered just loud enough for Pike to hear and smile tenderly about.
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