Series: Moments in Time
Characters: Kirk, Spock, background McCoy and cameo by Kevin Riley
Word Count: 1550
Rating: T
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Conscience of the King.
Summary: Just a bit of wrap-up I feel needed to be done. No doubt it's been done before, and by much better writers than I, but this is after all my missing scene series so my playground, my rules. :p
A/N: This will likely be the last of these or any other fanfictions by me for a while, as I am currently working two jobs in addition to helping a friend self-publish a textbook – as well as attempting NaNoWriMo for the first time in years, with an original fiction for the very first time. So until December, other than the odd ficlet here and there, a temporary adieu to all of you and thank you for continuing to read these little scribbles!
"You could have just told me all this, you know, sir." The young crewman's eyes – strange, how that haunted look was so familiar now – were more sad than accusatory, however the words sounded. "I had a right to know."
"Fair enough, Lieutenant. For that, I apologize. I thought perhaps ignorance might offer some small measure of protection from further attacks on you, but you are quite right – it was an error on my part not to at least tell you my reasoning, and I'm sorry. You should have heard it from me, not by overhearing McCoy's medical log."
Riley sighs, scuffs a boot childishly along the durasteel flooring with a horrific screech that makes them both cringe. "Sorry. Anyway, Captain…I'm sorry for going off half-cocked like that. It's just…"
A soft exhale, and the captain shakes his head. "Trust me, Kevin…I know."
"Am I to be put on report, sir?"
"Are you kidding me, Lieutenant?"
Riley chuckles, the lines of tension around his eyes easing somewhat. He glances out the windows at the rapidly passing light of a nearby nebula, pink and amber-hued light illuminating his face for a brief moment before the time-delayed vision swirls away again, carefully controlled by visual enhancers while the ship is flying at the dizzying variations of warp speed.
Kirk watches him for a moment in silence, wondering why he never drew the connections before this mission; he had been aware of the young man's connection to Tarsus IV, since his captain's clearance allowed him access to classified files in his crew's personnel folders – but he had not recognized in the young man, the boy he had briefly known two decades ago. Granted, he is aware of his own probably unhealthy way of coping with trauma – he has a habit of blocking out mentally, things which could damage his score on psychological evaluations, as they could jeopardize his command career – and this probably has something to do with why only the name, no more, had been familiar to him. It was an inexcusable oversight, and but for McCoy's timely medical expertise, it could have cost the boy his life. Had he been more aware, more intimately acquainted with his crewman's history, he might have prevented that initial poisoning attempt.
Lesson learned; he would not make the mistake again.
"My appreciation, in that case, Captain. And my job? Please don't leave me down in Engineering forever, sir, I'll go raving mad having to babysit the plasma relays for hours on end…" (1)
"You're on beta shift tomorrow, taking over Uhura's chair on the Bridge – and I'd better not see you showing up late."
The young man beams. "Aye, sir. Thank you, Captain."
"Now." Kirk rubs a hand over his face in an uncharacteristically open gesture of weariness; normally he would not so show weakness in front of a crewman but this one in particular has seen far worse, after all. "It's been a very long day, for both of us."
"I can take a hint right enough, sir." Riley's grin lights up the Observation Deck, and it does the captain's heart good to see. Time changes all men, not all for the better. Fortunately for the Enterprise, the latter had occurred here. He has high hopes for Kevin Riley. "I'll take my leave of you, in that case, Captain."
"Good night, Lieutenant."
"Same to you, sir. Oh, and Captain?"
"Yes, Riley?"
"Shall I tell your shadow it's safe to come closer, or is the war ongoing?"
Kirk's eyebrows rise at the impertinence, though he lets it slide in light of recent events. Also, the point is fairly well-deserved; he should know better than to have a spat with his XO in full view of a Bridge crew who is not comprised solely of his primary alpha shift officers; crewmen gossip, that is only to be expected. It was not the first mistake he made today, but it will be the last.
"You're pushing your luck, Mr. Riley."
"Seems to be the trend today, Captain. But I do apologize. I'll let him know you're alone, shall I?"
Kirk waves a hand impatiently in dismissal, excusing the familiarity as a reaction to the events of the day; there had been, and still are, more important battles to fight – far more dangerous demons to demand his attention tonight. His head drops forward to rest on the chilled transparent aluminium of the observation windows, and a moment later a flash of blue in the gleaming reflective surface lets him know that his 'shadow' has entered the room, silently as a cat.
He doesn't deserve Spock's unending patience any more than Spock deserved to bear the brunt of his anger earlier, though when he mumbles something along those lines, the soft huff he hears from behind him is the Vulcan equivalent of a dramatic sigh of exasperation.
"Your entire statement is based upon the incorrect assumption that I am capable of being offended by your human emotional outbursts, Captain. As such is not the case, your logic is faulty and your premise flawed."
He smiles silently at the glass, knowing he is forgiven.
"How long have you been sitting out there?"
"Not long."
He glances sideways. "From someone who usually reels off an exact number of minutes and seconds, I take it that means much longer than you want to admit to me."
Spock raises an innocent eyebrow. "I admit nothing, sir."
"I suppose you also won't admit to chasing away anyone else who wanted to use the Observation Lounge tonight, since I've been in here at least two hours, and that was before Riley came in - and we weren't disturbed once?"
"Your supposition has some merit. Doctor McCoy was most vociferous in his intentions to interrupt your conversation with Lieutenant Riley."
Kirk groans, turning away from the window to lean against it, facing his First. "Thank you for averting that disaster, Mr. Spock. I just…" He stops, swallows hard, as Memory tries to choke him, ever so briefly. "I need some distance, from this, and he is a firm believer in therapy-by-confrontation." Spock's eyes are almost too understanding; he has to look away after a moment to avoid betraying just how shaken up he still is, two decades after the original events but only hours after having that skeleton dragged out of the closet by multiple people today. "I can't take that, not tonight. I've seen too many ghosts today, Spock; I can't talk about them, not yet."
"I thought as much. I…regret, if my actions today contributed to your current state of mind, Captain. That was not my intention."
Kirk glances up again, eyes soft. "I know, Spock. Frankly, it was foolish of me to make inquiries of the computer's library banks right in front of you and not expect you to investigate them. Perhaps…perhaps some part of me, deep down, wanted you to find out so I didn't have to tell you. I don't know."
Spock's eyes glint in the dim starlight. "Sir, I am a scientist, not a psychologist."
Startled laughter fills the Observation Deck, driving away both the physical and metaphorical chill that had crept in during the time he'd spent here in quiet – too quiet – reflection tonight. "Mr. Spock, Mr. Spock," he says finally, and shakes his head in wonder, "whatever would I do without you?"
"Be forced to endure the force which is Doctor McCoy's medical concern alone, for one thing," Spock says dryly, indicating his personal data-padd, across which is scrolling another message – this one in all capital letters – ordering Spock to ensure that the captain eats something before retiring for the night.
"Angels and ministers of grace, defend us." (2)
"Indeed."
"Is that really the eighth message he's sent you tonight?"
"It is."
"Good grief."
"Quite."
"Well, let's swing by and collect him before he has an aneurysm, for pity's sake." Kirk rolls his eyes, tugging absently at his tunic as he straightens from the window, casting one final look out at the sparkling starlight.
"His overreactions are understandable, given the knowledge which he received today," Spock says quietly, but with a pointed look that makes him duck his head in discomfort.
"I know. I should have told him before. Frankly, I'm surprised the flag and classified section in my medical file didn't raise his curiosity before now."
Spock hums in quiet agreement as they move toward the doors. "The classification perhaps is too high to even flag for his attention, or at least it was when he first transferred aboard, Captain. Even my security clearance was only able to access basic public records, and while I could see the sealed files in your personnel file, I doubt I could have accessed them given what looked like the highest level of Starfleet encryption. Had I even attempted it, which I did not, I would most likely not have been able to access your personnel file on the matter, much less your medical file."
"Good to know," he replies, not without humor. "It's not light subject matter, Mr. Spock. I recommend Dickens, if you're that desperate for a recreational evening read."
"I shall keep that in mind, sir."
The doors to the Observation Deck open, spilling bright light into the dimmed softness of the Deck. A figure detaches itself from the floor of the hallway outside with a muttered grunt of annoyance.
Kirk turns an accusatory glance upon his First, who only blinks innocently back at him.
"I said your supposition had some merit, sir."
"And I believe I said that I could not take this tonight!"
The pitch of his voice has risen several tones without intention, and he cannot stop the slightly desperate edge that creeps into it, at the feeling of being cornered. There is no possible way he can deal with this, not now – not when Spock has just somehow managed to get him into a better frame of mind than he has been all day. That so very fragile mind-space is in serious danger of shattering, and his command control will shatter with it if he is not extremely careful.
"Calm down, Jim." McCoy's eyes are concerned, though his cool drawl is nothing but soothing. "Spock already gave me The Talk, okay? Let's just…go get dinner. I promise, that's all."
Kirk regards him with a suspicious gaze, well-deserved after having been victim of more than one well-meaning medical trap before. Though in all fairness, Spock has yet to be part of something he knows will seriously hurt him emotionally – for a supposedly emotionless alien, his First is more perceptive that way than most humans of his acquaintance. It certainly wasn't any human member of his crew who was not-freaking-out-because-that-is-an-emotion in his cabin earlier today when he apparently wasn't taking his own safety seriously enough, who redirected his anger into productive channels whenever possible, who gracefully interrupted McCoy's personal questions on the Bridge about his stupid love life…no, Spock wouldn't have dragged him out here just to dump him on Bones for a therapy session, knowing his current frame of mind.
"Scout's honor, Jim. I get it, all right? I'm here, when you're ready – and if you never are, well…I'm still here." An easy shrug accompanies the words, and he feels himself begin to relax slightly, seeing that the sentiment is actually sincere from McCoy as well.
Spock must have really done some magic, during that time spent standing vigil outside the Observation Deck doors. The idea that one or both of them would be willing to do that, just stand guard to see he isn't disturbed when he's trying to find a way to absorb and deal with what's happened – that they would willingly do that, despite the vitriol he's hurled at them today?
They probably wouldn't, if they knew everything, what he's done – what he had to do, the things they all had to do, to fall on the right side of that line delineating the "right" four thousand.
"Hey." He blinks, comes back to himself to see McCoy's face almost uncomfortably close to his own. "Whatever you're thinkin', Jim, you're wrong. I can see it in your face – and you're wrong. So calm down, and come along to dinner. I'm starving, and Scotty said he finally got the script for vegan chili written into Selector Four. He wants your and our resident picky vegetarian's opinion on it."
Exhaling in a slow, measured breath, he finally nods, and knows he's done the right thing when McCoy's face brightens in relief. They set off as a group the short distance down the corridor and into the main turbolift.
"Deck Eight. Y'know it's terrible for your health to eat this late, Jim. I've already locked all the complex carbohydrates out of your meal card."
Kirk glares at him, ignoring Spock's sigh from his other side.
"Well I had to entertain myself somehow while you two were jawing in there for God knows how long! Downloaded a little remote programming application and learned somethin' new tonight."
"Because deities of the universe forbid you should actually complete your monthly requisition forms on time, Doctor."
The captain smiles, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes.
"It is hardly my fault that your carelessness in filling out requisite paperwork results in having to re-do said paperwork multiple times, Doctor. It would be much more efficient to simply fill out said forms correctly the first time."
"I got better things to do than write in six different places on a four-page req form why I do too need six new petrie dishes for lab twelve because one of your idiot techs dropped the whole kit and caboodle last week during a phaser drill!"
Constant in all things, indeed. (3)
(1) In Conscience of the King, Kirk had Kevin Riley transferred from Communications down to Engineering for his own protection, though he didn't tell Riley the reasoning for the transfer despite Spock pointing out that Riley might see it as a demotion.
(2) Hamlet, Shakespeare
(3) Much Ado About Nothing, also Shakespeare – entire quote is Friendship is constant in all things, save in the office and affairs of love.