Author's Note: Happy New Year, everyone! I hope this finds you well and enjoying the holidays!
This chapter picks up right where we left off. Thank you, MissBAMF, for betaing this chapter and pushing me to add a few things that I wouldn't have otherwise! You're amazing!
More notes at the end.
oOo
And If I Stand Next To You
Chapter 8
(we'll stop starving ourselves, thinking we can't heal)
oOo
As soon as the words "Jocelyn's new boyfriend" left Jim's lips, he wished he could take them back. It would have been better if he'd bitten his tongue and played dumb from the beginning. But he hadn't, and now, things simmered just beneath the surface.
Jim and Spock stared at Bones. He stared back at them, looking lost. It was a look he'd never seen on the doctor before. He was pretty damn sure he never wanted to see it on Bones again.
"Joce has a boyfriend?" Bones echoed.
Jim barely controlled the annoying urge to shuffle his feet. He may have thwarted Treadway's plan, but he couldn't sugar coat the truth. Neither would he elaborate beyond what was necessary. Bones appeared even more confused. Worse yet, looking at Jim and Spock for the answers to a complicated, private situation that they shouldn't have learned about before Bones himself.
He should yank Bones right back into the house, but he'd lost too much strength to manhandle anyone. He should've also waited to open his damn mouth until they were inside, but he apparently lost his sense and clarity along with the kilos and muscle mass, too.
He just wasn't who he'd been two months ago. He was used to grueling hours with a therapist, not voluntarily hitting the gym. He was lucky to finish one full meal on a good day, a far cry from the balanced diet Bones enforced when they were on the Enterprise. Instead of enjoying a few beers with Bones on shore leave, Jim was spending his days trying not to have some PTSD episode.
He wasn't that Jim Kirk anymore, the one to whom Pike handed a second chance. And because he wasn't the same man, in a matter of seconds, things had become exactly what he'd feared.
"Yeah," Jim said quietly.
"But...she never said..." Bones stopped, expression confused. "He was here?"
Before Jim could offer a simple explanation, a small gust of wind swept over the men on the porch, the cool breeze reminding him that he was a vulnerable patient undergoing an intensive drug treatment. A storm was coming. He could smell it in the air now. He squinted up at the sky to see for himself.
Dark clouds loomed above, heavy and swollen. Despite the breeze it wasn't chilly, but every hair on his arms stood on end as if they were in Iowa, where the leaves turned and a sweater was necessary on walks. Not here, where the sunlight was sweet as Georgia's peaches, hitting you on the face, making you want to stay forever.
Jim shivered and rubbed his arms, instantly kicking himself for doing so. The last thing he needed Bones to do was to notice anything out of the ordinary and jump to conclusions.
Jim glanced down at himself and almost snorted. His attire— his appearance— was out of the ordinary. His toes peeked out from under the hem of his baggy sweatpants. His hands were shaking so badly he really didn't know what to do with them. So he did nothing but shift his body, the hem covering his feet just enough that maybe Bones would miss the fact that Jim was barefoot — and ignore his fucking tremors.
He couldn't deny it had been stupid to come out here so unprepared, and in more ways than one. But he'd had no choice. Having no shoes was the least of his worries, but he knew it would be at the top of Bones' list if he noticed. Right along with everything else. Bacteria, exposed skin, the possibility of getting a cut and an infection. He'd heard all of it before, Bones detailing absolutely every risk several times over to him, including risks that Jim hadn't even thought of — like his feet.
If Bones knew the bigger risk he'd taken… he'd never hear the end of it.
Jim swallowed. "He was, but he left."
"Well, why didn't ya invite him in?" Bones asked exasperatedly.
Jim worried. As strange as it sounded, it was the first time since the divorce, at least to Jim's knowledge, that Jocelyn had what looked to be a serious relationship. It was the first time that Bones had ever had to deal with another man, possibly even another father figure, being close to Jojo. If Bones wasn't questioning the fact that Jocelyn had a boyfriend, he was sidestepping the real issue.
"Jojo needed this time with you today, Bones," Jim said quietly, peering up through his lashes. "Without interruption."
He immediately got the impression that it'd been the wrong thing to say.
Bones' eyes glinted with emotion, nostrils flaring. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but clamped it shut a second later, muscle ticking at his jawline.
Guilt pricked at Jim. Maybe it'd been wrong to say, but it'd felt so right. He could just imagine what Bones was thinking, and it wasn't good. He'd made a decision on behalf of his best friend, and Bones didn't like it. He'd made a call, like he always did. Guilt or no guilt, he'd do the same thing again. Treadway'd had more than just running an errand for Jocelyn in mind. He'd clearly wanted to crash Bones' visit with Jojo.
Like Jim would ever just stand aside and let that happen. Treadway's words coming to mind, Jim decided he'd never back down if it meant Bones' happiness. Even if Jim was a lesser man.
Without a word, Bones turned to Spock, signaling he wasn't satisfied with Jim's answer and thus, dismissing it. "Spock, why didn't you invite him in?" Bones repeated after a pause.
Jim gritted his teeth. If he'd been at the top of his game, he would have been able to convince Bones that nothing was wrong. It was Jim's own damn fault that he hadn't.
"I arrived when Mr. Treadway was leaving. Therefore, I was unable to make that request," Spock articulated. "However, I believe that Jim did not invite him in for the very reason he explained to you. He was concerned Mr. Treadway's arrival would have interrupted and thereby shortened the time you had previously set aside with Joanna."
"I believe you're telling me the truth, Spock, but there's something about this that doesn't seem quite right to me." Bones furrowed his brow.
"Bones, it's the truth," Jim whispered.
Bones' eyes passed over him warily. "Did he say anything? Have a message from Jocelyn? Need to see Jojo? For God's sakes, Jim, I've never met the man, let alone even know Jocelyn was dating someone!"
"Bones, I know, and maybe you can ask Jocelyn about it when you see her," Jim offered in his rasp, using all of his self-control to act natural, to ease the new desperation he heard reflected in Bones' voice.
"I'd like to know now, from you, Jim," Bones' eyes narrowing, they perused the length of Jim's body before settling on his hands.
Jim swallowed harshly. Shit. His tremors had begun as soon as Treadway had turned his back and stalked off the porch to his craft. He was honestly a little surprised Bones hadn't noticed until now, but the man had been preoccupied.
Bones stared at him, a harsh light in his eyes. "Jim?"
Jim wiped his cursed, sweaty hands on his shirt before pulling them from sight.
"Your hands," Bones said, voice tight and accusatory.
"Uh, yeah. Well...it's just..." Jim began, wracking his brain for an excuse.
"It's just what?" Bones stepped closer, eyes firm and lined around the edges in a way Jim had never seen before. "The tremors don't start unless they're triggered, Jim. Triggered by something you find difficult to handle. Or, something that reminds you of..." Bones voice trailed off, more than likely to spare Jim the mention of the damn warp core.
A lump lodged itself in Jim's throat. When had he become this sensitive to so many damn things?
"Spock's visit came as a surprise, I guess," he said hoarsely, not swallowing until he'd given a weak excuse.
"Spock is your first officer. His visit wouldn't have triggered them." Bones observed correctly, brow hiked higher than Jim had ever seen.
"Bones..." Jim's voice faded, whatever courage he'd had disappearing right along with it.
Bones' chin lifted as if daring him to lie to him again. And dammit, he wasn't sure he could lie again. Bones wasn't going to let this go, not when he'd sensed something was off.
The tension thickening between them, he couldn't help it. He succumbed to his nerves like the weaker man Treadway had accused him of being. He took one unsteady step backwards. He would've taken another one, but he brushed up against Spock, who stood at the edge of the top step.
When had he become an open book? When had a simple conversation become impossible? He could stand up to a hulk of a man, but not his best friend?
"Jim, I need to know what happened," Bones said, words laced with an air of authority that made Jim feel about four years old, caught red—handed digging in the cookie jar.
"The guy didn't do anything," Jim's voice cracked. "Ask Spock. Treadway didn't even touch me. Nothing happened," he repeated.
Bones glanced at Spock, again making Jim feel that he was a child. "Spock? He didn't touch Jim?"
Spock inclined his head at Jim. "Again, the captain is being truthful."
Jim held his breath at the close call which nearly ruined their charade. He didn't want Spock to lie, but this was cutting it close.
Bones sighed. "If you, as my patient, Jim, were affected by this man, if he somehow triggered your tremors, I need to know why so I can help you. And make sure it doesn't happen again. Possibly going as far as to inform Jocelyn that her boyfriend can't stop over because he'll upset you." Bones crossed his arms, peering down his nose at Jim.
Bones' authoritative voice a little intimidating, Jim instinctively steeled himself. Something else was coming, but he didn't have a clue as to what it could be.
"But, since 'nothing happened'," Bones continued, "you both won't mind if I check the footage from the security camera that my mama had put in this year. Just to make sure."
Jim felt his face drain of color.
God, no. Footage? His heart sank. He didn't want Bones seeing footage of any sort. Why hadn't he thought of that possibility? Had he known about Nora's security, he would've... he would've what? Backed down? The idea was just ridiculous. He'd do the same exact thing and risk his own damn face being punched in by Treadway's massive hands.
Bones blinked his eyes several times, as if gauging Jim's reaction. He exhaled a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"So something did happen," Bones said tightly, eyes clenched shut.
Jim bit his lip. There was no way he could get out of this one.
He'd try, anyway. "Bones, I swear—"
"Get in the house, Jim," Bones gritted. He dropped his hand, shooting Jim a glare.
"What?" He rasped, in reflex straightening his shoulders so hard that his muscles pulled at the still sensitive area in his back. It didn't stop there. His back twitched, and unable to suppress the pain shooting up his spine, Jim groaned. "Umph. Bones—"
"Don't 'Bones' me when you're standing out here in your bare feet, not well," Bones continued, voice rising dangerously, a disappointment pouring from him that Jim had never felt before.
He'd honestly had felt stronger, up until now. A steady roaring began in Jim's ears, requiring painstaking effort to focus on anything else. "But, I...noth—"
"You shouldn't even be out here! Dammit, Jim!" Bones shouted over the roaring. "Get in the house!"
Jim's mouth fell open just a fraction before he forced it shut. In all the years that they'd known each other, after all the craziness they'd both experienced, Bones had never yelled at Jim like this. Although he knew not to take it personally — the man's stress level was high as a skyscraper — he couldn't help but feel a prick of hurt.
"Doctor McCoy," Spock said, a small frown crossing his face.
"Spock," Bones snapped. "Don't."
The breath squeezing out of Jim, he could hardly think clearly enough witnessing the small exchange. But he did realize this. Bones had basically told Spock to keep his nose out of his business.
Jim loved and respected his best friend too much to agree with that. All he wanted was Bones to trust Spock. To trust Jim, to know Jim had done what he thought was best, just like he always did. It had been the best thing. If not for Bones, then for Jojo.
Jim felt his world spinning entirely out of his control, the last bit that he could control—gone. This was not what he'd planned. This wasn't supposed to happen. All Jim had done was keep Treadway from stepping foot into this house and causing problems. It shouldn't have caused a different problem altogether.
"Doctor McCoy," Spock began again, ignoring Bones' request and momentarily pulling the doctor's formidable scowl away from Jim and onto himself. "Jim acted on your behalf, and in the best manner that he could."
Jim held his breath. Bones seemed to be actually listening to Spock.
"No harm was done," Spock continued, his voice the softest Jim had ever heard it to be. It took him a few extra seconds to realize that it was for Bones' sake, not Jim's. The thought comforted him far more than anything else could have at that moment. "The captain intended only to spare you."
Bones frowned, hesitating. "No harm was done?"
"That is correct."
Bones' gaze pierced Spock as if prodding for more information. "I'll be the judge of that. He shouldn't have put himself in the line of fire right now, not for anyone, including me!"
Jim hadn't expected this reaction from Bones at all. In fact, even though he knew this was Bones stuffing his emotions to deal with the situation, it blindsided him completely.
Jim stood, wanting the world to swallow him whole.
Bones turned back to Jim, who felt the brunt of his concentrated anger in one pointed finger. "It's not worth your health, Jim, or your life! I'm not going to let you throw that away again because of me! Not if I can help it! It's not worth it!"
Jim flinched. He had given up everything for Bones, for Spock, for his crew. But, that wasn't what hurt the most. It was that Bones didn't think it'd been worth it. Then. Now. It didn't matter. To Jim, it was all the same.
Bones' words had practically discounted what he'd done...in mere seconds.
It's why he'd gone into the core in the first place. It's why he'd kicked the damn thing in place, their names flashing in his head each time he'd grunted, every time he'd kicked, until he'd succeeded. Bones — everyone — was why he'd fucking went and died. He'd died — and Bones didn't think it'd been worth it?
Vision swarming, Jim's knees gave out.
A pair of hands caught him before his body connected with the hard surface of the porch. The same hands eased him down onto his knees, which was where he'd wanted to go and the only way his body seemed to be capable of bending. Like a helpless child, he leaned forward into the space in front of him.
"Dammit," a heated whisper brushed his ear. "I shouldn't have..." There was a sigh, another set of hands, these ones ghosting over his face. "I'm sorry, Jim. So sorry."
Someone was sucking in gasps of air, and only when something took hold of his chest like a vise did Jim realize the pathetic, wheezing sounds came from his own mouth.
The same hands stroked his cheeks over and over, paired with desperate murmurings. "Jimbo, I'm sorry. I...wasn't thinkin'. I should've been. Jim? You're okay. You're safe and we gotcha."
"Doctor McCoy..."
Another ragged sigh sounded right by Jim's ear, the drawl that followed thick with emotion. "I know, Spock. I know. This is all my fault," the doctor muttered. "And of all people, I should've known. Jim, you gotta breathe, kid. I need to get my medkit—"
A sob rose from Jim's chest, cutting Bones off. He bent over his knees, heels of his hands digging into his eyes, wondering if he did that hard enough, he could wipe out every single thing connected to that dreadful day. Wondering if to succeed, he'd have to wipe out most of himself, too. At least, if that happened, he'd be able to go a single day without having an accident or flipping out.
He'd be able to move past dying. Wouldn't that be better for everyone?
"Jim," a voice called softly.
Jim reached out in front of him and grabbed the shoulder of the person talking to him. It wasn't the thicker muscle of Bones. This was slender muscle. In fact... he lifted his head and squinted to discover Spock regarding him silently.
Jim blinked. Where was Bones? Why'd he leave? Not that it mattered. Except it did. Bones should be with Jojo, not out here taking care of Jim. It was like his new fucking mantra. Bones and Jojo, not Jim. He clung to Spock's shoulder with that one hand, helpless to his constant wheezing. This was just what he needed. Some goddamn panic attack. He allowed his head to drop, at the same time seeing something that scared the living daylights out of him.
He jerked his head up, blinking and staring at Spock in horror.
Glass. Glass was between them. Thick, immovable glass, Spock's hand pressed up against it, Jim's hand against it from the other side.
His stomach rolled. No, no no. This couldn't be happening again. His chest filled with an unexplainable ache. Hand shaking, he banged on the barrier once. It was all he could do, and manage his fear. Spock's mouth moved but Jim heard nothing except the roaring in his ears.
Was he back in the core? He couldn't be. That was impossible, wasn't it? This didn't make any sense but it was as real as day to him. He pressed his hand into the glass as hard as he could, unaware that his fingers dug through Spock's shirt and into the Vulcan's shoulders, leaving marks that would last for hours until Bones fixed it. A coldness pierced Jim when it became clear he could do nothing to break the glass and get to his friend. He gasped, leaning forward anyway, pain shooting down his wrist. He needed to get to Spock, not because he wanted the comfort when he died. But because at the very end, when Jim breathed his last, all he'd wanted to do was comfort Spock.
"Spock, the glass," he blurted out, confused. Wouldn't Spock want to try to get rid of it? Go for help?
Spock formed words with his mouth he couldn't understand, soundless, over and over, until Jim thought he was going crazy. When fear seeped into the brown eyes of his first officer, Jim decided he really must be losing it. Spock finally reached a hand up, somehow his hand going right through the barrier. He put his hand on Jim's shoulder. Strangely enough, Spock bowed his head, closed his eyes, leaving Jim to deal with the glass alone.
A whimper escaped Jim. He pulled his own hand away slowly, watching it retract effortlessly through the thick glass. He turned his hand over and looked at it in confusion. It'd been on Spock's shoulder, and...not the glass? How could that be? He wanted to ask Spock, but Spock was...busy. Jim clenched his eyes shut, too. He felt so alone. Spock was ignoring him, and Jim didn't understand why. He didn't have time to think on it long before a warmth spread over him, beginning in his mind and continuing down to his feet. When the warmth enveloped him, he looked up just in time to see the glass beginning to dissolve before his eyes.
Something clicked in his memory about Vulcans. Was this Spock's doing after all?
"What did… you do?" Jim asked brokenly. He didn't know what to do with all of this, having experienced something this powerful from a Vulcan only once before.
"What you would have done for me, had you the ability," Spock murmured, only Jim wasn't sure he'd actually heard the words.
By the time Bones knelt beside Jim again, the glass had completely disappeared. He sat back on his haunches, dazed and breathing shallowly. The discomfort from his catheter demanded his attention but he did everything he could to ignore it.
Maybe he was truly, finally, hopelessly losing it. This meant...it wasn't Bones' therapy. It was all Jim. And maybe if he could just man up, he could get over this. He got over things like this before, not only as an adult, but also as a teenager. He could do it now, couldn't he?
Bones' eyes were concerned as he watched him. "Dammit," the sound warbled from Bones mouth. Spock wasn't there anymore. Instead, Bones' arm snaked around the base of Jim's skull, warm across his neck. Jim shook his head, trying to understand, willing his brain to catch up with the activity around him. "Shh, buddy. It's okay. I gotcha. I have something for you. You'll feel a pinch."
Jim willingly pressed into Bones' shoulder, though he wasn't sure this — Bones — was even helping. Everything Bones was doing served only as a reminder of Jim's failure to hold his shit together, emphasized his dependence upon others. Every touch a reminder that Bones — and also, Spock — had had to deal with his death, too.
He barely registered the prick of his neck, hating himself for making a scene — again. Couldn't he just pull himself together, just for once? For his friends? He didn't think standing up to Treadway counted as pulling himself together. Pure luck didn't count.
"Doctor, as I was saying, I think we have overextended our time on your mother's front porch," Spock said in a gentle voice, words curling around Jim's thoughts.
"Yeah. We have. I saw Nosey Nancy over there coming home from work, and at least one car slowed down in front of the house," Bones said, voice muffled. Hands fell away from his shoulders. "But I don't give a damn about that right now."
Another whimper slipped from Jim's throat at the loss, the warmth from Bones' touch fading. He wanted his friend to stay so badly the back of his eyes began to burn.
But...this should be about Bones, and his daughter, and Jocelyn. And despite the care Jim needed, not Jim. Recalling his mantra, Jim bit his lip to keep from asking Bones for anything.
"We better go in," Bones murmured.
Jim swallowed, somewhat dazed but at the same time realizing that Spock's hands supported him from behind and helped pull him to his feet. He rubbed his eyes, also wondering why, in an instant, his panic attack seemed to have vanished into thin air.
"Just give me a minute," Jim whispered, kneading his forehead.
When no one answered right away, he decided it may have sounded too much like an order in a situation where he really didn't have control.
"Alright, we can do that," Bones said quietly.
Jim blinked, opening his eyes, surprised to see Bones' stricken expression, those hazel eyes strangely red and wet as he stood in front of Jim. Bones ran a hand over his face, inadvertently covering it, obviously trying to collect himself.
Amazingly, Jim already had.
Confidence filling him, he straightened his spine. He also seemed to have gained a burst of energy, but was smart enough not to test it by moving too quickly and hurting himself. Besides, Spock still gripped Jim's arms, a solid fixture behind him.
"Jim, I'm sorry," Bones' voice broke. The doctor carded a hand through his hair, eyes pained and beseeching. "It'd be best if you go to your room. After I take a quick look at what happened for myself, I'll examine you and make sure you didn't acquire some goddamn germ that could knock out your entire immune system."
Welcoming Bones' sense of command, Jim nodded. "I'll wait for you there," he said, voice paper thin.
"Jim..."
"Bones, not now," he said and set his jaw. The doctor looked like he was about to come apart. Jim wasn't going to be the reason for Bones actually losing his shit, though it seemed they were all nearly there. Jim, for sure.
He took a shaky breath, looking at no one, though he could sense Spock's eyes boring into his back as he broke away from his hold.
Jim couldn't imagine what Spock was thinking. Had he ever seen the doctor so distraught one second, but the next so damn commanding that Jim didn't think twice about obeying?
Had he ever seen Jim lose it?
Had he ever seen Bones lose it?
Had he ever seen two people so close, yet so far away from each other like Bones and Jim were?
Jim moved forward with ease, Spock and Bones following. All was silent, hinting that Nora and Jojo were still outside. The door closed behind him and Jim made for his room. He left Bones and Spock right inside the doorway. When he was alone in his room, Jim finally answered the questions for himself.
Probably not.
And then he asked himself another question. Could Spock help them fix these things? And another. Could Spock stop Treadway and Jocelyn from taking Jojo away from Bones?
He sank onto his bed. Though his nerves were on end, he felt a different type of fatigue, all in his mind. He was tired, Bones was tired, and Jim simply refused to think that Spock couldn't do those things...and then some. Because they were three now, and in Jim's opinion, that counted for a hell of a lot.
oOo
"He hasn't had one of those episodes for a while," McCoy remarked absently, staring straight ahead. He'd watched Jim the entire way down the hallway, guilt free, to make sure he made it on his own alright.
"They have mostly correlated with the drug therapy?" Spock asked.
"Yes," McCoy said, scowling. Dammit, this was just one more thing to add to the growing list of ways he kept hurting the man that he —
"He will not hold this against you," Spock said quietly.
Something about his tone made McCoy pause. He'd question Spock about it later. It probably was nothing, and they had more pressing matters to discuss. As much as he wanted Jim's forgiveness for railing at him, he needed to know who this Treadway really was and what he did to Jim to cause the tremors.
"Yeah, well, I don't know if I can say the same...yet." He gave Spock a sideways glance, catching the Vulcan's quirked brow. "It probably would be best for you to watch the footage with me," McCoy added, scowl deepening, "I have a feeling I'll need some clarification as to why in God's name you both attempted to sweep this, whatever this is, under the rug."
He wasn't surprised to learn that Jim tried to pull a stunt like this. Spock, however, was a different story.
"It will reveal something which Jim never intended you to find out," Spock said, tone unapologetic, "in hopes to spare you additional, undue stress."
"I had a feeling you'd say that," he muttered. His blood boiling again, he jerked his head to the direction of his mother's office. "Follow me."
He was grateful for Spock's wordlessness the entire way to the office. He didn't know whether to strangle Jim or thank him when he saw him next. Jim, the man who would rather get hurt himself than allow anything to hurt McCoy and Jojo. The reckless fool, answering the door of a house that didn't even belong to him, going out on the damn porch, talking to a man owning some invisible part to this custody mess. McCoy was sure of that even before the video began playing. There had to be a reason Joce had never mentioned Treadway, yet decided to send him to Eleanora McCoy's front door as a "surprise."
He didn't offer Spock a seat, but went straight to the computer, typing in the password and then a second to pull up the videofeed. He sat down in the chair beside Spock, and watched.
He began to hate Clay Treadway the moment he stepped on his mama's porch. The man's eyes. His hair. His nose. His mouth. For God's sakes, even his teeth.
It all was too perfect. He was too goddamn perfect.
"Leonard's busy, I take it?" Treadway asked Jim, eyes narrow and sharp.
God, this man was a giant compared to Jim and his thinner frame.
"It depends on who's asking."
McCoy wasn't surprised Jim's first words to this man were a little cold. He also caught the nonchalant way Jim yawned after answering the door. Jim only yawned like that when he needed to be observant. Sure enough, Jim cast a glance towards the driveway.
McCoy leaned forward, curious. What had he seen? Another person? Another craft? Treadway's craft?
"Treadway. Clay. I have something for Joanna. Eleanora spoke with Jocelyn about it earlier."
"Well, Treadway. Clay. Leonard is very busy,"
McCoy snorted. That was Jim. Not missing a beat, tossing smart remarks right back at Treadway.
Jim shrugged. "He's spending time with his daughter. I'd hate to interrupt their time together, as short as it is already. Wouldn't you?"
Without a doubt, McCoy loved this man, his brother, who was so fiercely protective of McCoy and Jojo.
Moistening his lips, he watched Jim's every move, how they interplayed with Treadway's actions. It was almost...almost like Jim just knew who he was before the words came out of Treadway's mouth. In fact, he learned later, after watching the feed once, Treadway never once specified that he was Jocelyn's boyfriend. It was inferred, but never said.
Then how the hell did Jim even know that he was Joce's boyfriend? When McCoy hadn't even known the man even existed?
Treadway practically sneered at Jim. "You're clearly not as strong as you once were and forget yourself. Why don't you just step aside like a weaker man would and let me in."
"Asshole," McCoy muttered, pausing the feed as soon as Treadway finished his verbal attack.
The nerve of that man, degrading Jim, trashing him and his health for having to take the time to recuperate. Underhandedly calling him a weaker man. And the insult cut even deeper than that. Who the hell was this guy that Joce even allowed him to be near their daughter? McCoy was so mad he shot out of his seat and cursed repeatedly until Spock ordered him to sit down.
"Sit down," Spock ordered for a second time.
He glared at Spock. "So that didn't bother you? What the son of a bitch said to Jim's face?"
"Indeed, it agitates me, doctor," Spock said evenly, as if it didn't, "but there is more to see and Jim waiting for you. Now, if you would proceed."
"Fine," he muttered, sitting down so hard it hurt. He started the feed again.
"Leonard isn't available," Jim said in strained whisper.
"I'd like to speak with him," Treadway's voice was almost chilling.
"Sorry, but he can't come to the door. I'll take that to Jojo."
Jim looked brave, but McCoy could hear his voice failing, cracking in a few places. That clearly didn't help matters with Treadway. Jim probably did appear to be but a waif the bigger man could brush away.
"I'd much rather give it to her myself," Treadway countered.
"No," Jim said, voice rough. "I'll take it.
"I'd like to see Joanna, so I can let Joce know she's okay."
Treadway smiled and revealed a brilliant set of teeth, far too perfect to be real. McCoy's hands clenched, stomach churning when he heard Treadway wanted to see Jojo. For Jocelyn's sake, he'd said. He was a manipulating bastard, that's what, and thankfully, Jim wasn't falling for that. Treadway wasn't the father figure McCoy wanted for his sweet daughter, let alone the type of man he wanted to even be around Jojo. What did Joce see in this guy? Why could Jim see something was wrong, but Joce just turn a blind eye towards this son of a bitch?
"Of course she's okay," Jim said. "She's with her father and grandmother, two people who love her."
McCoy was too tense to smile at Jim's obvious love for his daughter.
"This is a massive waste of time. You know I could go right past you," Treadway said, laughing loudly.
"This man just doesn't want to give," McCoy said in disgust, holding his breath as Treadway moved closer to Jim. When he saw the impassive expression on Jim's face, McCoy could tell that Treadway had pushed all the wrong buttons.
"Now? Yeah, that's pretty obvious, isn't it, Sherlock. Sure you could easily push me aside, though it would be rather rude. And cowardly, with me being sick and all. But maybe that doesn't bother you, being a coward. It's the easy way out. Why don't you come back in two months and try."
McCoy almost regretted watching the rest, finding himself so mad at Jim he saw red. Jim, stubbornly fighting back with the only weapon he had at this time — his mouth. Taunting a man who probably bench presses more than the two of them put together. When he was far from being invincible.
Jim was purposefully egging him on, but why?
When Jim began to provoke the bigger man, Spock shifted in his seat, the first sign that he was also affected. A small part of McCoy wondered if it reminded Spock of the time Jim provoked him on the bridge during the Narada attacks. As far as McCoy knew, Jim's goal then had been to emotionally compromise Spock. He had no clue as to why Jim had provoked Treadway here. But he'd damn sure ask him when the opportunity presented itself.
"Oh, that won't be necessary. Joanna won't be visiting this home in two months, let alone ever again." Treadway oozed of confidence.
The same heartache McCoy had felt for weeks now came back full force. His ex-wife and Treadway had to be in on this together.
"Something tells me you may be wrong about that," Jim said, rubbing his chin. McCoy truly didn't know anyone braver, anyone more loyal than Jim. "I'm surprised that Jocelyn would date someone who doesn't mind being both stupid and a coward. That's not like her."
He briefly closed his eyes. Oh, Jim. He was an idiot, but a brave, self-sacrificing idiot.
McCoy wasn't surprised when Treadway's expression became like stone. His own fear for Jim skyrocketed as the two men stared at each other on the screen.
"Jocelyn was right about you. You have a smart mouth."
McCoy gritted his teeth, wanting to wipe off that sneer clean off Treadway's face. When he literally loomed over Jim, McCoy's heart took off racing. Hand poised on his chin, McCoy watched, anxiety rising. Jim and Spock had both said Treadway never touched Jim, but it looked like the bigger man was going to punch the living daylights out of Jim. He even clenched his hands into fists. At what seemed to be the last second, those actions were halted by a distraction.
Treadway cursed and dropped Jojo's bag. But he wasn't done. Treadway leaned over Jim again. From McCoy's vantage point, it appeared like Jim's foot slipped on the porch when he flinched from the other man ever so slightly.
"I'd be watching your back if I were you. You may be Leonard's friend, but he can't always be around to protect you. We will find out what he did, Captain." Treadway finished his threat in a heated voice, spinning away from Jim and striding off the front steps.
McCoy kept watching, but he was in a state of shock. Treadway had actually threatened Jim. Not McCoy, not really, but Jim. As if using Jojo to hurt McCoy wasn't enough, now they had to throw Jim into the mix.
Spock appeared on the screen. He tried not to think of the look of utter relief on Jim's face when he arrived.
Or how close this had been to being an even greater disaster.
"So you were the hero," he managed to say after Spock leaned over and paused the feed. "Thank you."
"Indeed, my arrival provided a timely escape."
McCoy wondered about Jim's assertion, why he was confident that they wouldn't have Jojo, but he was more upset about Jim provoking a man literally twice his size. He almost couldn't believe Jim had increased the taunts, acting as cocky as hell. Treadway had gone way too far at the end. And then there was Jim... just waiting like a sitting duck for that punch they all saw coming, welcoming whatever reaction Treadway would come up with — all for McCoy's sake.
"That man will never come around this house again," McCoy gritted, barely keeping his anger under control. How could Jim act like it was nothing? That wasn't nothing. That was a threat that should be reported. Right? They could get a restraining order. They could...
He put his head in his hands and groaned. Wrong. It couldn't be reported. They couldn't get a restraining order. Somehow, the situation would be turned around on them, quite possibly placing Jim in a bad light. He'd never forgive himself if slam thing like that happened, after all Jim has gone through.
Or, Jocelyn could slam the door in McCoy's face, cutting him off from Jojo for good. He wouldn't put it pass Joce and this guy to do any of that. And then...the inference that McCoy had done something? He didn't want anyone probing around for answers to that.
"We can't report the threat," he whispered, words muffled. "We can't."
They couldn't chance it.
"If the situation with your daughter is as precarious as I assume it is, I concur," Spock said. "However, you may wish to present your concerns to your ex-wife."
McCoy heaved a sigh, recognizing Spock's hesitance at the end. "Out with it, Spock."
"To what did Mister Treadway refer when he said Joanna would not be visiting this home in two months' time?" Spock asked slowly.
McCoy sighed. That particular question had been inevitable. Still, he hated that his secret was coming out in the open like this. He'd wanted to tell Jim and Spock of his own accord. But life had a funny way of dealing with things. He was telling Spock first. He never saw that coming.
"You're right to suspect something. Joce wants full custody of Jojo. Also, all rights," he said, voice hollow. He didn't know what he expected from Spock, but the steady look and heavy silence wasn't it. "My lawyer's working on it."
It was a lame explanation, but this sad truth was all he had. The situation was a ticking time bomb. McCoy, the target.
"I see," Spock answered after a short pause. "And Jim is aware of this?"
"He is now," McCoy muttered under his breath, closing the computer program. "He can't do a single thing to help the situation, so I'd rather not discuss it."
"I assume that you will thoroughly explain the situation to Jim so it does not cause him undue stress?" Spock swiftly interjected.
Oh, that was smooth. "Yes," McCoy's shoulders dropped. Of course he would. Especially now that Spock would probably keep asking him if he explained things to Jim — until he did. "I'm sorry that you didn't receive a proper Southern welcome, Spock. If you don't have a place to stay tonight, I'm sure we have room to spare."
Spock's brow rose. McCoy stood. He crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. "Jim would want you here. We all do," he added.
"I procured a hotel room, but I am amenable to your suggestion," Spock said.
"Good," McCoy nodded. "I'll find my mother and we can get you settled."
"It is not necessary." Spock's eyes warmed. "The captain requires your attention. I can wait here, or if you inform me of your mother's location —"
"You'll what? Wander until you find her?" McCoy snorted. "Spock, you're our guest. Come on, I'll show ya the back porch, where Jojo and my mama are most likely enjoying the porch swing and some sweet iced tea," he waved his arm toward the door. "You won't keep me from Jim but another minute."
Jim no doubt suffered under the stress of Treadway, but the effects weren't severe enough to warrant McCoy checking on him immediately. Besides, he'd needed this time apart to get a proper perspective on the situation. He had a sneaking suspicion they both needed these few minutes to calm down.
Before they left the office, Spock stopped him in the doorway. "Are you aware that what is unresolved between you and the captain is nothing that he cannot handle at this time."
McCoy narrowed his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do, doctor."
"We haven't discussed what ...what his death did to us, not really, if that's what you mean. But..." He faltered, glancing at Spock.
"It is." Spock inclined his head, eyes thoughtful.
"So...you mean," McCoy cleared his throat. "Jim and me."
"Let me be frank. In other words, doctor, I believe what is keeping you and Jim from healing your friendship is yourselves," Spock interjected, relieving McCoy of the responsibility to explain the impossible rut he and Jim were in.
They were the reason they couldn't repair things? Although he appreciated Spock's wisdom—it took a weight off his shoulders —the irony wasn't amusing. "It's this way, Spock," he replied, voice catching.
Spock fell beside him, gratefully silent.
As they stepped onto the porch, Nora caught sight of Spock first. She rose from her seat and smiled widely, greeting him with the warmth she'd give a son. "Mr. Spock, what a pleasant surprise."
McCoy could've sworn Spock had a smile on his face when Jojo's face lit up and she exclaimed," Mr. Spock," with a glee she usually gave Jim. For all the excitement, she still hesitated, not coming up beside their guest. She settled with staring at Spock while her grandmother made him sit in one of the empty chairs.
McCoy finally remembered he held the bag Treadway had dropped by for Jojo. He set it by the door, glad that Spock was the center of attention.
"It's getting late. Surely you're not here to visit just for a few hours," Nora asked.
"I have arranged four days leave," Spock said.
"And where do you plan to stay?" she asked, eyes sparkling.
"I procured a room—"
"Nonsense," she scoffed. "We have more room than we can deal with here. And I'm sure James and Leonard would enjoy your presence while James recuperates." She peered up at McCoy. "You did manage to get the okay from your superiors to keep Jim here longer than you originally planned?"
"I did," he said in relief. He'd received the message earlier, right before he'd left the porch in search of Jim.
"Well, it has worked out better than we'd hoped, hasn't it, Leonard?" she said sweetly.
"Mama," he began, thinking of Jocelyn's acts of pure spite.
"Leonard." Her eyes held a gentle warning. "All will be fine," she said before turning back to Spock.
He just shook his head as the rain came down, accompanied by thunder. He looked up, water spraying on his face as he'd moved to the edge of the porch, away from the clamor of Spock's arrival.
"If ya'll don't mind, we'll just have this part inside," Nora smiled despite the storm's arrival. "Jojo, honey, why don't you take Mr. Spock into the living room while I clean things up."
Jojo's head bobbed up and down. She stared at Spock as if his ears were a curiosity, peering up at him, practically tripping over her feet as she followed McCoy and Spock back inside. He made a mental note to thank Spock for not making a big deal about Jojo's staring. It wasn't that she was shocked by them. On the contrary. She liked to draw them.
McCoy wiped the water off his face and gently pulled Jojo aside. "I need to talk to your Uncle Jim alone, sweetheart, and then I'll be back. We can watch that movie you like so much." He couldn't help but bend down and give her a extra long hug.
"Okay, daddy," she whispered, her tiny arms squeezing him tightly. "Do you think Mr. Spock would want to watch, too?"
"I'm sure he would," he said, glancing up at Spock.
"I am amenable to the idea." Spock nodded.
Jojo clapped her hands and darted off into the other room, forgetting Nora's instructions to her. Spock turned to McCoy, one brow arched in question.
McCoy fought a smile. "Help yourself to a seat, Spock. I'm sure she'll be back in a few minutes, no doubt with an armful of stuffed creatures and maybe a pillow." He paused. "Don't take offense. You honestly should be flattered she took off like that. It means she has something on her mind that she wants to include you in."
"I am not offended, and I will be waiting," Spock said.
"I don't think we'll be long," McCoy said decidedly. Lord knows that Jim would be biting at the bit to spend some time with Spock.
"Please, do not hurry on my accord."
Spock's previous words raced through McCoy's mind, and he walked into Jim's bedroom feeling like his heart was on his sleeve. How could one person cause him to feel his strongly? Granted, Jim had always caused him to feel a wide range of emotion, from wanting to strangle him to this, the deep desire to protect Jim from himself. Nowadays, it was almost too much.
No more excuses. They simply had to talk.
Jim looked up at him from his spot on the edge of his bed, eyes wide and vulnerable. "Bones, I know it looks —"
"It looks just like it is. A man who had no business going out on the porch, putting himself in harm's way," McCoy said through clenched teeth, striding forward. He should've waited a few more moments before coming in here, at least until he could talk to Jim without feeling this anger. This worry. This gratitude. At least until he could maintain his professionalism.
"Okay," Jim said quietly, eyes casting down.
McCoy began his work, thankful that Jim may have been too scared to say another word. The readings weren't terrible, but the little jaunt outside had affected Jim. When hepulled a hypo from his kit, Jim threw him a nervous look.
"Blood pressure," McCoy clarified for him without skipping a beat, frowning.
Jim winced when he administered the drug. McCoy knew it hadn't really hurt, but didn't comment. He tucked the hypo away in his kit and took out antiseptic, two bandages, and the dermal regenerator. He pulled up the only chair in the bedroom and sat down in front of Jim. Before he touched Jim's leg and foot, he schooled his features.
"You have several cuts on the bottom of your feet. Did you know that?" He asked Jim with as much tact as he could muster.
A sheen coated Jim's eyes in seconds. McCoy frowned, Jim shaking his head, mouth drawn tight.
"Didn't think so," McCoy mumbled, lifting Jim's right foot up and pressing it on his lap. There it was, a fine streak of blood. The tricorder hadn't lied, neither had the carpet stain McCoy saw while coming into the bedroom. With extreme care he cleaned the cut and rued the front porch his mother wouldn't fix. It gave her house character, she always said, so it looked like a work of art among the identical ones lining the street. He wondered how much character it'd have if, in the small chance, Jim actually got an infection from this.
Sighing, he said to Jim, "I need you to be still for a few minutes while I work. It may be better for you to..."
His voice faded, realizing that Jim was already pulling a pillow close and carefully leaning back. "Good," he nodded again.
Jim stared up at the ceiling, putting space between them. McCoy found himself thinking far too much while he worked. He was done before he realized it for himself, much like when you're driving a for a long time and come to, suddenly realizing you drove thirty kilometers and never saw any of it. Not one damn tree or hover car you passed.
That was a scary thought. McCoy knew it couldn't happen again while he tended to Jim. Yet, it probably would.
Only the wrapping was left, and he gripped one of Jim's heels firmly. The man was ticklish all over, but especially here. It was a wonder that he hadn't even twitched once. "This is mainly for protection," he arched a brow, winding the bandage around Jim's foot quickly. "In case you forget to wear slippers."
Jim's expression flooded with guilt.
"Or shoes," he added, irritable. He set Jim's feet down, now finished wrapping them.
"Thank you," Jim said in his rasp,
McCoy sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Jim was watching, but he didn't care. He gripped his hair, tugging on his scalp, trying to steady himself without a bottle of whiskey in hand.
Now that caring for Jim was done, there were other things that needed their attention. He lifted his head up and met Jim's anxious gaze. They stared at each for a long time, neither of them speaking. The rain pelted the windows with an unwelcome fury, the sound beginning to mesmerize McCoy.
"You're an idiot," he managed in monotone a full minute later.
"I know," Jim mumbled, his eyes darting towards the window.
"A reckless, stupid, idiot," McCoy reiterated.
Jim eased out from his spot on the bed and walked to the window, shoulders sagging as he turned away from him. "Idiots are known to be stupid, Bones."
McCoy sighed. He had so many things to say to Jim, but he still wasn't sure if this was the right time. Things about Jojo, about Jocelyn. Things like the way their friendship kept unraveling.
First things first, he had to make it up to Jim. Going off on Jim had been grossly inappropriate.
It didn't surprise McCoy one bit when apologies tumbled from Jim's mouth, one after the next.
"I'm sorry. I really am," Jim said hurriedly. "I thought... I wanted to stop that asshole from ruining your time with Jojo. I could just tell he was bad news. I couldn't do anything else for you, so...so I jumped ahead, without thinking, without seeing what you'd see. And you know better than I do, Bones. You're the doctor. I'm...I'm just a patient. Your sick patient. Who doesn't know shit right now and made things worse —"
McCoy came up behind him and placed his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Hey, now, that's enough."
"It's not," Jim said, voice wavering. He wiped a hand across his nose, sniffling, his eyes pooling with liquid. "I didn't think it through. It was stupid. I should've — "
Jim was loose in his hands as McCoy turned him around. He sent Jim a firm look, hushing him instantly. "It was stupid, and you are an idiot for placing yourself in the line of fire. I'll give you that much. And you'd have hell to pay if something had happened."
Jim's eyes widened.
McCoy huffed a breath. He couldn't yell at him, not when Jim had essentially saved his time with Jojo.
He also shouldn't be telling Jim this simply because he didn't want to feed this desire Jim had to protect him. But, he would've done the same damn thing if he'd been in Jim's shoes.
"You're an idiot," McCoy repeated. "But you're my idiot," he added slowly, dropping his hands. "My best friend who doesn't think of himself in the face of danger but is the bravest man I know."
Jim blinked owlishly at him.
McCoy hesitated. Spock was right. There was nothing keeping McCoy and Jim from repairing this stubborn rift in their friendship but themselves. "And I'm sorry. Most of all. I'm sorry, Jim. It was all my fault, overreacting. Yelling at you. And God," he said, voice falling into a broken whisper. It made sick just thinking of it. "Look what happened."
Because of McCoy, Jim had gone somewhere in his mind, possibly back in that damn warp core, a place that they couldn't follow.
Something changed on Jim's face. McCoy would give a million credits to know what was going on in that mind of his, but he'd settle knowing Jim would forgive him for causing a hallucination. Or knowing that there was even a chance that somehow, things could go back to the way things had been between them. Lately, he felt himself often careening into a black hole without his best friend. Especially now, when he was on the brink of losing Jojo.
Some would say their relationship was a symbiotic one. It would be the kindest and simplest way to describe the patterns of co-dependency that existed within their friendship. A codependency McCoy could never deny. He was aware of it like he was aware of his own two feet.
One of the biggest examples of this was Jim's so-called womanizing. Jim had set his sights on a few girls at the Academy, including Gaila, the one person he knew to whom Jim had actually grown attached. Then, the Catan twins who'd been like a delicacy for Jim. A delicacy that made Jim go crazy and hit cloud nine with what McCoy was certain to be a faked euphoria. Superficial happiness, at best.
McCoy always pretended not to notice the obvious correlation between the twins and then his visits to Georgia, the talks with Jocelyn, and the days and hours away from Jim. Not that the time he'd spent away had been a walk in the park. For the most part, it was time McCoy himself felt disconnected from the world. He knew his solitude, increased sarcasm, and dark humor during those times rubbed off on Jim, yet it had been McCoy's way of coping and weeding through old hurts. Something he knew Jim understood but dealt with in his own way.
Their camaraderie never suffered, despite their habits. Maybe it never suffered simply because of their habits.
Just like Jim's, McCoy's old life hadn't been an easy one. With Jim, the future had become so bright he'd had no other choice but to follow.
And now, that path had become a little broken for the both of them. McCoy could see that the only way they could journey on was together. Leaning on each other, limping the entire way with their wounds, with their battle scars.
Truthfully, he and Jim were both idiots because they didn't do well without each other very well at all.
Spock's presence was going to help them both but maybe McCoy could do more for Jim than that. He thought quickly. He wouldn't deny that he'd been uptight about many things since Jim's death. Maybe the time had come to ease up.
"A change of scenery," McCoy suggested.
Jim's eyes lit up. "You mean, go somewhere?"
There was no missing the boyish eagerness in Jim's voice, but McCoy just shook his head. "Doctor's orders."
Jim sank onto the edge of the bed looking absolutely crushed, though McCoy could see the man clearly fighting to hide it.
"So, this is what we'll do," McCoy said, relaxing onto the bed beside Jim.
"Bones."
"We'll just..."
"Bones."
The plea behind that one word was too great to ignore. He turned his head and found himself face to face with Jim. "Yeah," he said, voice rough.
Jim licked his lips, obviously nervous, his hesitance breaking McCoy's heart. "If it's too much, because you've lost time with Jojo already because of what happened, just do what you need to do?"
McCoy didn't know if Jim realized it or not, but his voice cracked at the end. It immediately transformed the Starfleet captain's statement into a question. A question as it would come from a child wanting only to please. The slip had been far from intentional, but it caused McCoy to see Jim's vulnerability in a new light. For all Jim's bravado, he was only a man now brought to humble place. Dealing with that was a struggle all of its own, let alone with the added hurt caused by McCoy's actions.
"I don't need anything except one thing, Jim. I need to make it up to you," McCoy drawled softly. "Out on the back porch. We can just sit." He paused, letting the words soak in. "And talk."
What looked like tears sprang to Jim's eyes, but the younger man just nodded.
"When the storm's about to pass, or maybe after...after we spend some time with Jojo and our new guest." McCoy paused, gauging Jim's reaction.
Jim blinked. "What? Who?"
"Spock," he gently reminded him.
"Right. Spock."
McCoy arched a brow. "You forgot so soon?"
Jim looked all sorts of offended. "No, I just...well, maybe," Jim mumbled, then turned his head to stare at the floor. "It's been a long day."
He wholeheartedly agreed. "I don't think Spock would hold that against ya. But I won't tell, just in case," he added in a lighter voice. "To save your sorry hide."
When Jim was quiet McCoy glanced sideways at Jim. He was relieved to see a timid smile forming on the younger man's face.
"But I didn't forget about Jojo," Jim rasped, eyes switching back on McCoy. "And you haven't either."
Heart racing at the thought of never seeing his daughter and her beautiful smile again, McCoy expelled a long-suffering breath. No, no he hadn't.
"The porch?" Jim asked, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Is something wrong with the porch, Jim?" McCoy asked, genuinely concerned that he was still upset about Treadway's threat or the incident as a whole. If simply spending time on a porch would trigger Jim's PTSD, McCoy needed to use discernment. Something he was easily forgetting to do lately.
"No," Jim rushed out. "I just...I've been wanting to do that," Jim said. "But..."
"But what, Jim?" he pressed.
"I was afraid to ask." Jim's face flushed.
McCoy frowned at him.
"Because I...I overheard you...talking with...your mom," Jim practically stammered.
Oh.
"You heard me…" McCoy's voice trailed off, biting back a frustrated curse. When he recalled that particular conversation with his mother, he couldn't blame Jim for acting this damn anxious about such a small thing. He kicked himself. It would be better for everyone if he could just learn to keep his mouth shut. At the very least, to actually think before speaking. "I may have exaggerated my concerns. We'll take precautions, but it would be good to get some fresh air."
Jim stared doubtfully at him.
"It'll be fine," McCoy said, offering him a small smile. "Not only that, but you won't find anyone showing up unannounced on the back porch," he added dryly. "I promise."
Jim's face relaxed. "You're sure?"
He put an arm around Jim's shoulders. "Absolutely."
oOo
The evening was more pleasant than Spock expected. Eleanora McCoy was a most gracious host, welcoming Spock from the minute he arrived. He obtained three different sketches of his ears, all of which were drawn by Joanna's expert hand and each distinct in nature. After Dr. McCoy and Jim emerged from the Jim's room, it was not difficult to see that that the two men were more at ease with each other than before. He observed their behavior and listened to their banter throughout the evening, feeling a stir of contentment that their friendship had begun to mend. That Jim showed a confidence that wasn't there before and McCoy, a relief.
Even while Spock had been far from their presence, he'd felt a discord between the captain and doctor, which resulted in a discord between the three of them, as well. Spock confidently ascertained that this would no longer be the case.
He found himself counting down the minutes until he could leave to resume his investigation. He waited until Dr. McCoy and Jim came in from the back porch and then retired to their respective rooms. Mrs. McCoy and Joanna had already said the customary 'good night.' No one was aware of Spock's departure. He exited using the front door and drove away in his rented craft.
This was his second visit to Jocelyn's house. The first being before he came to Mrs. McCoy's. He parked the craft in the darkest part of the street, which conveniently, was one driveway down. Two lights were on, as Spock predicted. With her daughter gone and having received texts from McCoy, he wasn't surprised that Clay Treadway's craft was parked in the driveway, as well.
Spock cracked his window at the same time Clay Treadway stormed out of the house.
"Clay, wait!" Jocelyn cried, trailing after him. "You don't understand."
Treadway halted and spun around. As he walked back to the front step, Jocelyn backed up, her face white in the moonlight.
"There is nothing too understand," Treadway spat. "You're angry I spilled our secret to your ex-husband. You're ashamed of me, Jocelyn, just like everyone else is ashamed of me."
"You know that's not true, Clay," she whispered, crossing her arms in the cool of the night. "You've come so far..."
"Yet, your daughter loathes me," he gave a dark laugh.
"She's seven years old, Clay!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "She needs time, that's all. And maybe, maybe if you'd be a little calmer when she's around, it would help."
He loomed over her, dark business suit ominous in the shadows. "That's not who I am."
"I know," Jocelyn said tightly, her hand shaking as she set it on the bulge of Clay's arm, a finely sculpted bicep. "But, she's a child, Clay. Not one of your opponents."
It was then that Spock knew why this man looked so familiar to him. The face was unlike the one he and Nyota had seen at a boxing match two and half years ago, but it was the same man. When Nyota had won tickets, Spock had expressed his reluctance to view such entertainment, but he had admitted he was intrigued.
It was this man before him who had won that match, broken teeth and crooked, bloody smile at the end. Wavering on his feet, stubbornness and the sheer determination to be the best keeping him upright. Spock could not easily reconcile this businessman with the boxer, but the truth was before him. Clay Treadway, was the indebted, gambling boxer named Clayton the Lion, who threw away his winnings within a month's time. What happened had since, Spock did not know. However, it appeared that he was attempting to move on from that life.
"And James T. Kirk?" Treadway mocked.
Spock's hand tightened on the steering wheel.
"He's a means to an end," Jocelyn whispered, looking away. "I know you're close to finding out what my ex-husband's involvement was in this incident they're hiding, but I don't want him hurt more than what's necessary. Jim, either, Clay."
"He's a smart mouth who insulted me, Joce."
"Come," she sighed. "Let's go on in. It's been a long day, and I don't want to fight."
Spock frowned, closing his window as the pair made their way back into the house. Clay Treadway was not a man who submitted to others, but it appeared that Jocelyn had sway over him. More than that, Jocelyn, an associate of her father's financial business, was a woman of means. It was quite possible that Treadway was using her to build this new life. What he'd promise her in return for this balance, Spock could also only speculate.
However, the innocent, joyful face of Joanna McCoy instantly came to mind.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter - I'd love to hear from you! Your comments are so inspiring and they keep me going!
The next update will include the scene with Jim and Bones on the back porch. I know it appears that I just glossed over that whole thing, but I really didn't. I skipped to the scene with Spock at the end on purpose because I was anxious to include his investigation. This chapter would've been huge if I hadn't planned things this way. So, the "back porch" scene will be in Jim's POV in the next chapter. I'll backtrack just a little, but Chapter Nine will include new scenes to take us forward, too.
I will try to update in three weeks. :) I really appreciate your patience with these slower updates. My entire writing process has changed this past year. I feel very high maintenance. :) With luck, though, you'll see a new chapter sooner than later. We are about one-third the way through the story. That is a rough estimate, though. I have a very important OC to introduce in a few chapters that will be a huge part of how things come together at the end, with the promise of the five year mission. This OC is definitely not a love interest for Jim or Bones. The OC has more to do with the custody issue with Jojo as well as Jocelyn. :)
Also, I have NOT abandoned Call of the Void. My beta reader status changed, and so it has been a factor with the lack of updates. It's on my mind. I am definitely trying my best to get a chapter written. And it really could take another month or two before I get that in order. It's a complicated story that requires my best focus. I really appreciate your patience! :) Thank you! Wishing you all a safe and happy New Year!