McCoy's not in the mood for this. Every last one of his patience died a horrible slow agonizing death before breakfast and anything other than simply minding the store today is insult to injury. "I'm pretty sure we have some junior medics that would love this sort of thing," complains McCoy as he falls in line between Spock and Uhura. He does a quick self pat down to make sure he grabbed everything he'll need. It's a day that reeks of doom on the horizon.
"We are the first members of the Federation to survey the planet. There will be many specimens to collect and catalogue," replies Spock with carefully concealed Vulcan enthusiasm.
McCoy throws his hands in the air. "Exactly! Busy work."
"It will be nice to get off the ship," says Uhura, looking forward to a little sunshine.
"Until the foliage tries to eat you or you find out the hard way the rocks are poisonous or the wildlife secretes a fluid that melts your face off," huffs McCoy. He's not going out that way, he's simply not.
A few heads turn as the trio passes through the corridor towards the transporter room. 'Loud' conversations happen all the time between the doctor and crew but it never fails to draw a few concealed glances and pique curiosity.
"And barring all that, we might find a nice quiet planet for some shore leave," continues Uhura dreamily. "Think about how nice it might be to lie around in the sun and have a picnic."
"And just what do you think the statistical probability is that we'd find a pleasure planet and not a death trap waiting to spring? asks McCoy, irritably.
"Approximately..." starts Spock.
"Don't say it!" warns McCoy cutting off his captain. "It was rhetorical, Spock."
The doors to the transporter room open. Two security guards prepped for the away mission are waiting patiently with the transporter technician.
"Hopefully the fresh air will make you less cranky," giggles Uhura, stepping onto the pad.
McCoy hangs back slightly as the security guards step on the pad. He hates today and he certainly hates this.
"Come along doctor. Our initial scans have found no glaring cause for concern," informs Spock.
McCoy side eyes the transporter. "Unnatural way to travel. Having your atoms spread all over the universe," he mutters, relenting and joining the away team on the pad.
Spock tilts his head. The doctor is being especially stubborn today and there's a danger it might disrupt Spock's inner calm. "Is there anything you do approve of?"
"I'll make a list and get back to you," sneers McCoy.
"It'll be a short list," snorts Uhura.
"I was perfectly happy where I was," defends McCoy.
"It is your rotation for the away team," reminds Spock. "Energize," he orders.
"Just don't come crying to me when something melts your face off," warns McCoy as the transporter hums to life.
"Ensign Remmi to Enterprise." The panicked call fills the bridge. "We need emergency transport. Alert medical, we have a critical patient."
The transporter has barely powered down and Spock is already three large strides away from the pad, clutching the limp body in his hands. There isn't time to wait for medical to meet them at the transporter room, every second counts. The medical team can meet him on the way or Spock will carry his dying crewman all the way to sickbay if he has to.
Uhura stumbles after them leaving the two security guards standing dumbfounded on the pad. There's so much blood. It's everywhere. There's a huge splatter pattern around the spot Spock was beamed back. It's dripping down the stairs that lead up to the pad in slow lazy drops; a red trail of terror that starts on a deceivingly peaceful planet and is quickly spiraling towards death's icy touch.
Uhura follows, unable to keep up with Spock's speed. She's numb, the world around her distant and grey as she makes her way to sickbay on nothing more than muscle memory and the trail of blood Leonard's leaving on the floor as Spock races to get him to sickbay.
This is all her fault. Leonard had been trying to save her. They had been down by the water on the dark brown sandy shore of a lazy river. She should have been paying more attention, not day dreaming about of spending a day off lounging in the lavender waters. Maybe then she would have noticed the large lizard/bear looking creature that unburied itself from the sand at the promise of an easy meal.
Leonard had noticed.
He pushed her out of the way of its massive jaws but failed to get himself out of the way of its immense claws. Uhura gets a little nauseous at the thought of those claws ripping through Leonard's chest and abdomen like modeling clay. She's not a doctor but even she knows it's bad- really bad.
The doors to sickbay slide open unleashing a fury of medics and machines. Uhura hangs by the door while M'Benga and his team set to work. Spock answers all their questions as he stands next to the biobed. It takes Uhura a moment to get past the bright red blood staining his blue uniform shirt to realize he hasn't moved because Leonard has a fist full of Spock's shirt still tightly gripped in his fist.
Leonard's still hanging on to consciousness as the medical team buzzes around him taking readings and trying to access the damage. He locks eyes with Uhura and the floor practically disappears from under her. She's too far away to hear the words he's mouthing but the naked fear in his eyes is unmistakable.
Everyone is too busy trying to save Leonard's life to take notice of the soft strained words. Uhura knows. She wants to turn away and shut out the horror but she owes it to him to hear what might be his dying declaration. It takes everything she has to slowly inch forward, careful to not get in the way of anyone engaged in the fight for Leonard's life.
Leonard releases Spock's shirt and grabs a hold of Uhura's hand with his blood stained one the second she's within reach. His grip surprises her; like holding on to her will keep the reaper from pulling him under.
"..im c-t ... out," Leoanrd chokes out, eyes pleading with Uhura to understand.
"What? I... I can't..." mumbles Uhura, words failing to make themselves available to either her brain or her mouth. More blood stains Leonard's teeth each time he coughs. It's the same color red that's all over her hands from when she tried to stem the bleeding after the attack, before Spock came rushing over to kill the beast and scoop the doctor up while shouting orders to the security team. The tears start to fall, fast and continuous. "I don't know what you're trying to say."
Leonard seems to rally for a moment, the chaos around them fading into the background. "Please," he begs, and Uhura wants to promise him with her whole being that he'll be alright, that this isn't the end. "Jim can't see me like this, he can't find out this way. It will break him. Promise me you won't let him see me like this. He can't have some stranger tell him it's over."
"We need to get him into surgery," says M'Benga, forcibly, all business and without remorse as he rips Leonard's hand from Uhura's.
Spock trails behind them helplessly until they pass through the doors to the surgical area while Uhura stays rooted by the biobed. There's blood on the bed and on the floor. There's so much of it. Leonard can't have that much left in him. All this because Leonard saved her life.
"Tell me he's going to be okay?" she says coldly to the nurses still putting away things and trying to clean up any sign that an emergency disrupted sickbay. They keep their heads down, focused on their tasks like no one can bring themselves to say it out loud. There's no way some who lost that much blood is going to survive.
"Christine!" she yells, angry at the circumstances, angry at the world. Jim can't find out like this. It will break him. Promise me you won't let him see me like this. How could Leonard let himself be taken out by a giant lizard when he has obligations and people who care about and need him? "Tell me he's going to be alright," she demands. She will not be the one to tell Jim, Leonard died for her.
Christine looks back at Uhura sympathetically but doesn't say a word as she walks in to assist in the surgery.
Uhura wants to cry or collapse somewhere or both. She wants to scream and rage and scratch off every inch of her skin just to make all her feelings go away. She wants to curl her hands into fists but her fingers are stiff and seem to stick together. She looks down at her shaking hands. Blood. They're covered in drying blood.
Leonard's blood.
Uhura doesn't remember walking to a bathroom or how long she's been standing at the sink furiously scrubbing her hands and face; somewhere during this whole mess she managed to smear some blood across her cheek.
Spock appears behind her, his stoic and silent reflection in the mirror above the sink. He doesn't say a word just watches Uhura scrub away. He takes in every inch to make sure that Uhura is in fact safe. There was a split second after her scream that he had thought he lost her and a wave of regret picking away at every decision he's made since Vulcan was destroyed. There's a certain sense of relief to know that she is unharmed despite the tremendous concern he has for the doctor who is clinging to life in sickbay.
Uhura locks eyes with Spock in the mirror. "He shouldn't have to see Leonard's blood on me," she says.
"I can tell, Jim," offers Spock. It is his duty as captain to deliver horrible news to families. Even if it wasn't, he would do it to spare Uhura from having to be the one to do it.
Uhura wants to jump at the opportunity for anyone else to tell Jim that he might lose everything he holds dear because of her. But Leonard begged her not to let a stranger dump cold hard truth onto him. This is the least she can do for her friend; protect his husband when he is unable to. "It should come from me. Leonard asked me to do it."
The door chime rouses Jim from a peaceful sleep. He's not completely awake but enough to know return to his welcome slumber is in danger or ending. "Computer, relay do not disturb to the door," he mumbles, rolling over to snuggle back into the warm embrace of the blankets.
The door chimes again. "Go away!" yells Jim, like whoever is at the door might be able to hear him from the bedroom. He grabs the pillow and pulls it down over his face, covering his ears. The door chime persists.
"Alright I'm coming," snaps Jim throwing the pillow across the room. It's the middle of alpha shift, not exactly prime social hours and no one comes to see Jim anyways. He begrudgingly gets out of bed, every muscle pulling uncomfortably and protesting loudly at being ripped out of bed before earning any real rest. He grabs his cane from next to the bed and hobbles to the door.
"Uhura," he says, somewhat surprised. It's a pleasant surprise and not unwelcome if it is slightly odd. Uhura stops by about once a week, but never when Leonard isn't there. Jim's not delusional enough to think that she's invested in anything but Leonard's company.
His warm smile starts to melt as she just stands there looking broken and not saying a word. "Leonard's not here, he got tapped for an away mission," he says, the sinking feeling in his gut growing more, "but you know that."
Jim goes a shade lighter than white, turning and silently walking back to the living room. He falls boneless just before making it to the couch. Uhura follows and sits down across from him. The silence hangs heavy in the air, pressing down.
"Jim," starts Uhura. Despite her soft gentle tone her voice sounds like a screeching siren in the night. She tries to hold his hand, to offer some tether of comfort but he refuses to even look at her let alone hold her hand.
"No," says Jim. His shoulders start to shake and his eyes burn. Dread coils in his guts threatening to break through his skin and shatter him into a million pieces.
"There was an incident on the away mission." Uhura has to work hard to keep her voice from cracking. The anguish she managed to stomp down on her way to Jim's quarters is thrashing and tearing at its cage.
"No," says Jim a little louder, like he can stop the approaching freight train speeding towards him with his voice.
"Leonard... Leonard saved my life."
Jim's cane falls to the floor as he presses his hands against his ears. "No!" Because it's not true. Leonard's fine. He said so himself this morning when he told Jim he was going to be part of the away team. Everything is fine.
"Spock got him to sickbay as soon as possible. M'Benga and the team are some of the best but they don't..." She can't shake Nurse Chapel's look from her mind.
Jim struggles to get up off the floor. "I said NO!" He begins to frantically pace back and forth across the living room; denial driving every step. This can't be happening. It's not how their story is supposed to end. Not after everything they've been through. They're supposed to retire on that damn farm with Leonard constantly bitching about how unsanitary it is for Jim to bring the baby animals in the house and cupboards bursting with canned vegetables from the garden because Leonard won't let them go to waste.
Uhura's mouth clicks shut with an audible snap. She sits there awkward and out of place in Jim's quarters, like the one pristine vase that didn't fall and shatter on the floor during an earthquake with all the others. Failure is piling up around her today and it's costing people their souls.
Jim stops sharply during his latest pass, turning to look at Uhura. "He promised!" accuses Jim switching from sorrow to fiery rage. He picks up the PADDs and a picture frame sitting on the coffee table and throws them against the wall. They hit with a tremendous bang before falling onto the floor and breaking into pieces.
Uhura flinches at the noise.
Jim storms into the bedroom babbling in half broken sentences and heated words. "Not our agreement," and "we had a deal."
She wipes at her tears that never seem to end and moves towards the mess left on the floor. She kneels down, careful of the broken glass and sharp edges. The PADDs are ruined and the frame is in too many pieces to count. The picture's torn and tattered along the edges, not enough to obscure the image of Leonard and Jim laughing while sitting on a stack of hay bales trying to hold a handful of baby chicks still for the photo.
She tucks the photo away in her dress. If the worst happens today, she'd rather remember Leonard this way than drenched in his own blood.
Jim comes out with an arm full of uniform shirts and begins tearing at the sleeves. "They can't have him. He promised me forever. Can't marry me if we don't make it out of here," he repeats like a broken recording. He's laser focused on ripping the treacherous silver rank stripes from Leonard's shirts. They won't take Leonard if they think he's a nobody.
"Jim," pleads Uhura moving to stand next to him. "You have to stop." Whatever he's trying to do, it's not going to end well and it's certainly not going to help the situation.
"You can't have him!" snarls Jim, shoving Uhura hard. She topples off balance and falls firmly on her ass, Jim throwing one of the shirts at her. He storms off out of his quarters leaving Uhura sitting there alone.