Epilogue to REQUIEM FOR METHUSELA
Kirk, Spock and McCoy return from a haunting encounter. To acquire an antidote for a Rigellian fever plague aboard Enterprise the three are forced into a power struggle by a megalomaniac foe, which devastates Kirk. To repair the emotional damage to his friend, Spock steps forward with the extraordinary healing balm of a mind meld.
REQUIEM FOR THE PAST
Spock leaned over and gently touched fingertips to his friend's temple. "Forget."
It opened up a kaleidoscope from Pandora's Box. Jim's feelings - passionate, dedicated, intense. Strangely, it was not too overwhelming. Spock's familiarity with these patterns of mental pathways was not just established it was - comfortable. He had melded with Kirk more than anyone else. Extraordinary, because mind melds were rare and in some opinions on his world not to be practiced.
In this moment of complete honesty and openness remarkable clarity washed him with realization! His captain and he were linked! Not just mentally but emotionally. he was not just aware but – feeling - the tumult of illness, shame, regret and exhaustion. Sensations Kirk would harbor from everyone - even Spock. Perhaps especially from his First Officer because he would be aware of the effect of strong emotions on the controlled and shielded Vulcan. Although in pain the leader would withhold vulnerabilities and suffering to protect his closest friend.
Such understanding of this Human's frailties and gallantry made this small surrender-of-self a necessity. The intimate thoughts, motivations and moods were not shocking to the Vulcan, but welcomed. One of the many lessons he had learned well serving with this exemplary trailblazer was the example of sacrifice for duty. This obligation was not for the ship, or the crew, or Starfleet, or UFP or for some alien race or even altruistic cause. This act of love was for his friend.
To the tender probe, there was little reaction from the Human who was depleted from physical and emotional trauma. There was a brief but powerful ripple of feeling at the remembrance of what had happened. Spock labeled it disorientation, illness - humiliation.
That thought, inadvertently slipped into his friend's mind, came as a revelatory sunburst of surprise! The word association of profound embarrassment was not what Kirk was experiencing. That emotion was Spock's projected for him – to him.
That recognition tumbled to an unwanted memory from another stream. The Plutonians. When the beings using telepathy and telekinesis to force Kirk and Spock to dress and act in an abhorrent manner. Verbally, the two officers had revisited that tragic event only briefly. The embarrassment had been felt most profoundly for the other not for themselves. The anguish from Jim - to see Spock in pain. Spock had been emotionally distraught over what he had been forced to do - nearly kill Jim.
The incident on this planet was different. The manipulation while Kirk was ill. Flint stage-managed Kirk into teaching the android Rayna how to love. In his confused and ailing state Jim thought he was in love with Rayna. Bring her back to the ship to be his immortal mate? Spock scoffed. Impossible. There had been many love interests for the Captain. Ample opportunities for attachments. No woman could come between the commander and his true mistress – Enterprise.
Plague aboard Enterprise - Ryetalyn - the only treatment/mineral-cure for Rigellian Fever - Holberg 917-G - Flint – Rayna. Nightmare wraiths his friend should not suffer to remember.
"A very old and lonely man. And a young and lonely man. We put on a pretty poor show, didn't we?" Jim's painful, self-condemning lament.
Spock's attempt at comfort woefully flat. "The joys of love made her Human. And the agonies of love destroyed her."
From the first time of their meeting at the Vulcanian Expedition, there had been the recognition of commonality between him and Kirk. Absorbed in his own ambition to be completely Vulcan, he had seen in Kirk that same drive to be completely a Command personality. To dedicate everything he was - everything he did - to be the one ideal set up in his mind: Starship Captain.
Serving together on Enterprise the roles of Captain and First Officer necessitated much time together. More than anyone Spock had ever known Jim worked hard to be inclusive and pull the Vulcan into ship life.
In his extremely Human way, Jim also dedicated his energies to draw out Spock's Human half. Teasing, rubbing shoulders, humor - his strong personality that seemed to include osmosis - were the barrage of unrestrained and not-so-subtle weapons used. Successfully. The Captain's campaign worked to break down numerous Vulcan walls.
Perhaps a complete and true Vulcan could have strengthened his logic shields and repulsed the highly emotional commanding officer who made everything personal. Spock thought he had accomplished that with Pike. Believed he had enough foundation in his creed, in his intrinsic bloodline, to serve among Humans without effect. He had done so at Starfleet Academy and then Enterprise.
That was a different timeline. BK – Before Kirk.
AK - After Kirk - the hybrid within was no longer rigidly separated. The Human half still diminished on the outside. Inside his heart and mind, he was a blended and unique individual. Still firmly rooted in the teachings of Surak - logic suppressing emotion.
Now, he recognized he could not erase the Earther elements. Nor wished to any longer. This new Spock – AK - had become comfortable around and serving with Humans - acknowledging he was part Human.
After all the years alone, he had discovered the true nature of his soul was accepting both histories. Merging them together to make his unique present and future. Somewhere during these last few years he had also realized this was what he had been missing and longing for his entire life – belonging. Home.
None of that would have happened without Kirk.
The Vulcan accepted the captain did not provide the insight to open Spock's soul. James Kirk WAS the key!
"Forget."
The tangle of emotions were anticipated - instinctively expected - when he melded.
They were the closest of friends. Considered each a brother. Often sacrificed everything for the other.
Being a jumbled representative of everything Human, Kirk embodied those qualities typical of his race. As was the complex nature of his species, he possessed love/passion for various elements. Duty, oath, responsibility for ship and crew. Exploration, adventure, space, and seeking answers. Bringing justice. Aloneness that only a leader could experience. He felt all those attributes deeply.
Love. The confusing, treacherous, entangling emotion blamed for much heartache and joy in the universe.
McCoy was wrong in his diatribe. "You see, I feel sorrier for you than I do for him because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures, the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know simply because the word love isn't written into your book."
Friendship, commitment, duty, loyalty, sacrifice. Those were definitions of love.
Not only did Spock understand them. He had felt them - been the recipient of them for years. Despite his initial resistance, he had been an apt student. He could emulate that most intimate emotion now.
For his Captain. His friend.
That powerful feeling should have shied him away, but Spock did not even flinch as he encountered a huge wave of tenderness. The depth of Jim's heart.
What Kirk felt on the planet was a fantasy mingled with illness mingled with longing. There was that occasional weakness within him to yearn for what could not be in his life. Then that momentary desire was brushed away by duty and his only true love: Enterprise.
"Forget."
Sweeping away the bitter memories of Methuselah and their excruciating experience on the planet, Spock easily separated fact and fiction. This mind of his brother was compatible. Even if he had not melded before he would have found accustomed inclusivity in these thoughts and yes feelings. He had never doubted his commander's dedication to anything because to him Kirk never held back. Always obvious. One-hundred-percent commitment. No defensive shielding.
Here in the deepest core of the mind he knew what warmth, devotion and love for their friendship. It was a power more dominant then any of the other thoughts, aching, regrets, or duties in these neural pathways.
Through the years serving together, Spock had known this. It was no surprise. It made his choice of this act easy, instinctive, and natural. Now, wiser through his inner stability and acquiescence of the humor, affection and integrity of Kirk, it made this service to his friend his gift. He had no qualms about erasing a manufactured heartache by a cruel enemy who had used Kirk's weakness to cause pain.
This was definitive friendship - to his Captain. What Kirk could not accomplish.
The mental eddies and streams here were secure and welcoming. As he eased out of the meld he did not mask his own feelings for his walls were also disintegrated. He put into his thoughts words he could never form. The gratitude and love for this amazing Human who had worked fervently – diligently - to foster a bond between them that defied logic. Who put in total commitment toward a friendship - at first simply by being the example. Then selfless love that prioritized Spock above all others in Kirk's life.
There was no doubt in this Human that their brotherhood was equal for both of them.
Since his reconciliation with his father, Sarek, Spock had grown to appreciate his parents. Growing up, striving to be completely Vulcan, he had neglected to thank his mother for so much. She taught him the value of Human history and literature.
'A friend is a gift you give yourself - Robert Louis Stevenson
Friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of our grief - Cicero
Now so much wiser, he embraced his Human half. He had learned that here on Enterprise.
Mostly from this extraordinary friend.
"My thoughts to your thoughts," he whispered. "Remember what is most important."
II
When the Captain stepped into sickbay, Dr. Leonard McCoy braced himself. Yesterday's last glimpse of Kirk was a broken and heartsick friend, head on his desk, pleading to forget the heartache and humiliation experienced on the planet.
Starship Captains were a cut above normal people in many respects. That had been a textbook acknowledgment for the Doctor until he got to know Jim Kirk. Now, he understood definitions of clichés that once seemed trite and were now poignant in their profound truth.
Commitment, sacrifice, dedication, justice, passion.
Kirk in a nutshell.
Never mind what McCoy had discovered about himself in the years of this ongoing five-year mission of exploration and new worlds. The discoveries underneath his own skin had been more surprising and deep than he ever imagined.
Most of that was because of this commanding officer who would go through anything to fulfill his duty to ship, crew and Starfleet. Mostly though, for his closest friends.
Expecting to don his hat as a psychologist and a drinking buddy, or a shoulder to cry on, McCoy was surprised at the energetic stride as Kirk approached him. No haunting fatigue or depression from what he had endured on the planet. No lingering side effects from the plague.
As broken as he had ever seen the Captain, they returned a despondent trio. Today there was a world of difference. What had changed?
Taking the upbeat cue, he stated he wanted to give the Captain a report on the fitness of the crew.
"Excellent, Bones."
He started for a seat in McCoy's office, but the physician stopped him.
"Jim, I thought I'd give you one last look over to make sure you're alright."
There. That left the door open for any confession or admitting of loitering emotional damage. Because knowing Jim, he was not going to admit hurt or pain. He would brush it off as he did so often because he had to be the leading example - the unbreakable and resolute Starship Captain.
Surprisingly, without argument, Kirk slid onto a diagnostic bed and waited expectantly. "Good timing, Bones. First shift ended a bit ago and I stayed on the bridge to make sure second shift went smoothly. Everyone's doing great!" He gave a depreciating laugh. "Sorry Doctor, I'm intruding on your territory. Please give me a report on the crew's health status."
"Fine," he commented absently, concentrating on the instruments.
Staring at the readout on the diagnostic panel, he hoped his attention seemed absorbed with the readings.
In truth, he was working on the puzzle of his Captain's mental state. When he left his friend, he was sure Kirk would come to him in the middle of the night feeling miserable, asking for a headache remedy and wanting to share a drink of commiseration. That had not happened. Instead Jim seemed better than fine! His prevailing what's-our-next-adventure attitude!
"Well?" The readable expression consistent with the impatience of the tone. "I still have a ship to run, Doctor. I'm feeling fine. Your antidote worked. Right?" Now his demeanor hinted at cautious concern. "The crew is alright, aren't they?"
"Yes! Yes, Jim, the crew is in excellent health again. No lingering problems with illness. No rejection or side effects from the antidote. We're all doing –" He really needed to expand his medical vocabulary. Flustered, he could think of no other explanation. "Fine."
The smile was back. "Great! And?" He pointed above his head to the panel.
The physician reported exactly what he saw there. Captain Kirk was in excellent health. All physical indications at peak level. Emotional status seemed to be the same.
"So - anything you want to discuss?"
He hated to bring up the misery of their landing party. Obtaining the antidote had been grotesquely torturous for this officer. As his doctor and, more importantly, his friend McCoy keenly felt his responsibility to protect the younger man.
Obtaining the rank of Starship Captain, there had been sacrifices for Kirk. While intrinsically he held all the qualities of bravery, valor and duty, he also possessed vulnerabilities that were usually only seen by the Chief Medical Officer or First Officer. The loneliness, the doubt, the stress, the weighty responsibility that could crush a normal being. Kirk experienced all those at some time in the last few years, but he also thrived on them. He used those negative emotions to be a better officer.
Part of McCoy's job as both medical and personal guardian was to make sure the anxieties and chinks in the armor were invisible to the rest of the ship's company. Also not a danger to anyone aboard Enterprise or anyone else they encountered in this big wide galaxy. lastly, not a detriment to the captain himself - a responsibility the physician took seriously.
"Discuss? What?" The eyebrows scrunched together in quizzical confusion.
It reminded him of an expression of Spock's.
The Vulcan First Officer. The other protector and sentinel serving on the right hand of their commander.
The image brought a memory of his own shameful condemnation from last night. As he usually did, he allowed his emotions - the counterpoint to the Vulcan - to slip off his tongue without thinking. His parting words had probably been extremely painful - if Spock would admit to such an emotion.
The clarity of the evidence suddenly coalesced into a solution. He nearly gasped at the instinctive theory he contemplated. Like a splash of cold water on his face, he suspected what had happened! Was it possible? Could their emotionally repressed Vulcan officer have brought about this astounding cure in their captain?
A mind meld? It was the only thing that made sense but was completely nonsensical. On the surface. If he factored in the years of evidence that proved Spock would go to any lengths to save his commanding officer and Kirk would do the same then it became reasonable. In an unreasonable and amazing way. And he was in awe.
Concentrating on shutting off the diagnostic information, he told Kirk all was well. He would submit an official report later.
After Kirk left, the Doctor went to his office and sat. Examine the evidence is a scientist:
Leaving a distraught Kirk in his cabin - Spock remaining
So wrapped up in his own emotions, as usual, McCoy had leveled harsh judgment. He noticed nothing unusual in Spock. Because he was wrapped up in concern for Jim.
And, of course, so was the Vulcan.
Always, he had the image of the two of them as invisible supports to their Captain - their mutual friend. McCoy's prodding and watchful. Spock protective and reasonable. The two of them were the heart and mind for Kirk - between them - the soul of Enterprise.
In the years together he had seen - or schooled himself to read - what Spock would rarely reveal. He DID have emotions! In addition, they presented themselves most often in concern for Kirk.
No surprise. The Captain's approach to drawing Spock's true nature out into the open was the opposite of McCoy's. Jim's subtle, consistent and nonthreatening teases, jokes and friendship to expose the warmth behind the cold logic worked.
The three of them would do anything for each other. On a grand scale, Kirk had done everything from placing himself, his ship, his career in danger for both of them, but especially Spock. And the Vulcan had done the same.
What had Spock done this time to make an emotional difference for his wounded Captain?
III
Medical duties kept McCoy occupied for the next few days. Enterprise was a big ship and as Chief Medical Officer, he was required to see to numerous issues. With checkup appointments and reports finished and submitted and obligations fulfilled, he focused on the puzzle that needed to be solved.
His usual, impulsive, blurting-what-he-thought approach would not work. Slamming up against a wall rarely gained access to the other side. He needed a considered, subtle approach. Not his forte. However, he was a surgeon and navigated the delicate workings of internal organs with the deft, light touch necessary to excise foreign matter to promote healing.
Certainly, he could use that same approach now psychologically.
The setting must be correct, naturally. Not corner his subject in the privacy of a Vulcan enclave. He must find a quiet, yet public venue. Where hypothetical or metaphoric, indirect questions could be broached.
Nights aboard a starship were regulated around the circadian rhythm of Humans. It was late and considered second shift when he entered the mess hall. There were few crewmen in attendance. Most of the first shift had already eaten supper. At this hour they would have moved on to one of the many rec rooms.
Treating himself to coffee and a beignet, he socialized with a few of the men and women. His target was not here. Finishing his snack, he left for the recreation room nearest deck five, which was command officer quarters.
Ah, perfect timing! Spock had just completed a song on the lyre, Uhura accompanying with a beautiful song. No sign of Jim. Hopefully catching up on sleep. Casually greeting the friends present, he stood next to the Vulcan as the First Officer prepared to leave.
Itching to get to the core of his theory, he felt uncomfortable suddenly. Such personal revelations should not come while crew surrounded them.
Smalltalk. "Sorry I missed your playing, Mr. Spock."
With a nod of acknowledgment he responded, "Undoubtedly there will be more opportunities, Doctor."
The taller officer walked toward the door and McCoy joined him in silence until they were inside the turbo lift. As he always did, McCoy stabbed his scalpel straight to the heart. So much for good intentions and patience.
Kindly, calmly, he wondered, "Spock, what happened?"
Spock could have taken it as an accusation, but the question was accepted at face value. An inquiry. Obviously as Chief Medical Officer and close friend to the Captain, McCoy noticed the emotional status of Kirk. Following the cure to the fatal Rigellian fever plague, the ship returned to its normal duties. All personnel well.
That went especially true for the Captain. Kirk's mood was upbeat and anticipating adventurous exploration ahead as per Enterprise's mission. His sense of camaraderie positive. During off-duty hours, he made it a point to challenge Spock to chess or enjoy a late-night drink with McCoy. Or invite the First Officer and Medical Officer to his cabin for a superficial briefing, which led to hours of comfortable socializing.
"Clarify, please," the Vulcan returned levelly.
McCoy bounced on his heels, an outward manifestation of his frustration. "Jim. When I left him the other night, he was miserable. Really suffering. The next day he came to sickbay for his mandatory checkup after the plague. He was practically a different person. What happened?"
The expression stoically bland, Spock stared straight ahead. "He came to terms with who he is."
It was not a lie. Vulcans did not lie. In his association with Kirk, however, he had learned to prevaricate, stretch the truth, and manipulate data and present in such a way that it meant something deceptive without revealing a literal response.
While he would deny it even to himself, he did occasionally couch his dialogue with McCoy in such a slant that it could be considered goading. If he were Human. Such was not the case tonight.
Spock knew what he meant. McCoy knew that Spock knew. The response had been exactly what he could reveal as First Officer and friend to Captain Kirk. According to Starfleet, his first duty was his oath, his ship and then his Captain. In the years he had known the enigmatic commanding officer his priorities had shifted. His loyalty, duty, and priority was Kirk.
"Spock –"
"Think of what he went through on the planet," he incisively demanded, his tone still impersonal and cool. "Jim was ill and highly emotional. He was abused and humiliated to accomplish his mission, which was to save his crew. Successfully completing his task his natural personality was re-asserted. Being the Captain of this ship, of this crew, is the medicine and reality upon which he thrives. No other choices compare. No other temptations are strong enough to shift him from his primary focus. And we both know his determination to succeed at any cost with being the Captain."
Eyes narrowed, McCoy stared at him. He could feel it and finally turned to look at the Doctor.
"Then you think Jim more or less made a course correction from his own personality?"
Skeptical.
"Indeed."
Shifting in discomfort, McCoy gave a nod. "Jim checks out just fine," he related. It was not divulging confidential information. As his position as First Officer dictated the Vulcan needed to know the physical and mental status of the Captain. As a friend, it was even more important. "Of course you'll know that. You probably read my reports already," he conceded. Uncertainly, "So you really think he's all right? After - everything?"
McCoy had once told him there was an old adage saying a good friend knows all about you and likes you all the same.
He dared to think between the three officers that held true.
Touching his mind and heart and even soul, Spock knew there was no doubt about James T. Kirk's recovery. With a certainty the Doctor could never know or comprehend Spock's answer was resolute and absolute.
"All is well with the Captain."
The lift doors opened and both noted the approach of the subject of their conversation.
Smiling, Kirk clapped his hands with enthusiasm. "There you two are! Perfect timing! I just finished a communiqué with Starfleet. They're sending us to what they say will be a spectacular nova in the Tau Sector! I'm heading for the bridge for the course change."
He grabbed them both by the arms and pushed them back into the lift.
"You'll want to be there."
McCoy and Spock exchanged a look of mutually amused understanding.
"Sure, Jim. Just the way I want to spend my evening."
Expectedly the light sarcasm brought a grin to the Captain.
"Bridge," he ordered the lift.
"I expect it to be fascinating." The Vulcan commented with his own tone of levity, certain of the anticipated reaction from his Human friends.
Rewarded, as expected. McCoy rolled his eyes.
Kirk chuckled and warmly regarded his First Officer. The expression was familiar. Did it seem deeper or more meaningful now after the mind meld?
"Well I'm excited," he confessed. "The crew will experience something beautiful and scientifically important," he nodded to the Vulcan. To the doctor he said, "You might even find something interesting, Bones."
"Sounds like just what the Doctor ordered for this crew," McCoy agreed.
Grinning, Kirk felt a pervading sense of comfort. Was it being cured of the Rigellian fever? Probably more because he was completely in his element. An interesting, nonthreatening mission to showcase the scientific abilities of his crew. About to emerge onto the nucleus of his being - the bridge of his ship. His two closest friends at his side.
Everything needed or wanted in the life of James T Kirk.
THE END