The next morning, Pike made sure that he was on time for his appointment with Counselor Olivantes by personally accompanying him to her office. They hadn't spoken more than ten words since the last night, but Leonard felt no desire to change that.
He hadn't slept much, tossing and turning and staring into the shadows that filled the simply but comfortably furnished guest room Pike had had prepared for him.
There were shadows everywhere.
Shadows in the room, shadows on his mind, shadows in his heart.
He didn't have the means to chase them away.
And standing in front of Counselor Olivantes' office, he doubted that she had them. Leonard did not have a very high opinion of psychologists in general and he had always made a point of avoiding them as much as possible. At best, they were just strange. And some of them were downright creepy…
He idly wondered, if Dr. Anya Olivantes would be the "you poor dear, let me help you"-type or rather the "I know everything about you, so it is pointless to try to hide anything from me"-model of a psychologist.
When she appeared in the doorframe, he couldn't tell. Not yet, at least. But he had seen her before, the night before at dinner, sitting next to Pike at their table, not speaking much to anyone, but watching everything and everyone intently from light blue, almost colorless eyes. She was of medium height and rather thin, a slight, pale woman with waist-length platinum blond hair. He estimated her to be about Pike's age but it wasn't easy to tell.
She wasn't beautiful or even pretty, but the lack of color and the large, thoughtful eyes held a certain exotic fascination.
"Hello Chris," she said simply, turning those eyes on Pike and confirming Leonard's theory that they knew each other rather well. "You're a little early."
"I hope it doesn't inconvenience you?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't." And, turning her eyes on Leonard: "Good morning." She offered him a slender, pale hand, long fingers bare of any rings or other decoration. "I'm Anya Olivantes."
Leonard nodded in acknowledgement. "Leonard McCoy."
"I know," she said softly, and it sounded almost like a sigh.
Leonard began to wonder, what Pike had told her about him, but somehow he now doubted that the Captain had chosen Anya Olivantes to be his counselor merely for her professional credits.
"I'll leave you, then." Pike said and for a passing moment, Leonard didn't want him to go, didn't want to be left alone with the counselor. It was silly, of course. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, Anya Olivantes could do to harm him… or was there?
"Step inside, please." She held the door open for him, then showed him into a large, sunlit room. White walls were tone in tone with a thick white carpet that seemed to swallow all noise, and white furniture. A small fountain tinkled away in a corner of the room and there were plants everywhere, plants of every kind, lush greenery spilling out of pots in all shapes and sizes, crawling over surfaces, hanging down from the ceiling and even climbing up the walls.
It looked like a mixture between a hospital room and a greenhouse.
"Have a seat, if you want to." She sat down carefully in one of the white chairs that were loosely grouped around a low glass table. Everything seemed to gleam in the sunlight, there was not a sprinkle of dust anywhere.
"What if I prefer to stand?" Leonard asked stubbornly.
She shrugged. "You stand. I don't really care."
"You know, that's not the kind of thing I expected a psychologist to say, I don't care. Aren't you supposed to be universally caring and understanding?"
She shot him a quizzical look. "Would you like me to be? Then I'm afraid, I'll have to disappoint you. I'm only human, after all. This is just a job to me, Leonard. Like being a physician or a baker or an engineer. I chose to be a psychologist. I might have chosen something else. I'd have liked to be a librarian or a botanist, too. But you've got to make some choices in life, I guess."
Yeah, he could imagine her being a botanist, sitting here amid all these plants.
"Aren't you going to ask me any questions?"
"Do you want me to ask? Would you answer them?" There seemed to be nothing but simple curiosity in those pale eyes. Not even professional interest, just… curiosity.
"Depends on the question."
"I don't like the ones that start with a why," she said. "Most of my patients don't seem to like them, either."
"I wonder, why," he muttered.
"We could start with the Who, I suppose. I'm not going to ask, who you are, because I've never met anyone who has been able to give me a satisfying answer that reached beyond the personal files so far. But let's talk about people. It's usually fun."
He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
No. Definitely not what he'd expected…
"All right. Tell me about your nearest and dearest, Leonard."
Somehow, the fact that she used his first name didn't bother him. She did it in a very casual way, as if it really didn't matter much to her.
"My nearest and dearest?"
"Ah, you know…" She waved a vague hand, "family, friends, lovers… people that matter to you. There have to be some of those."
It was an odd request, but somehow, he saw no reason not to answer. Most of it was either in the files or easily accessible common knowledge, anyway.
"There's my daughter, Joanna. She's almost eight."
She smiled vaguely. "I read your file, yes. Tell me something I haven't read yet."
"I love her very much."
"That wasn't in the files," she admitted. "But it's good to know, I suppose. Comforting, in a way. People should love their kids, shouldn't they? Anybody else?"
He shrugged. "Not much family beyond that. My mother, but I haven't seen her in a while. An aunt or two, a few cousins."
"Not that important?"
He shrugged again.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Family's something you don't get to choose. You're hardly compelled to love them, although many people seem to think so. I never got along well with my parents or my sister, but I love my best friends. I handpicked them and that makes all the difference."
Okay, she was weird.
"You got any best friends?"
"One." You really didn't need more; especially if your best friend was Jim Kirk, a youngster who seemed to attract trouble the way a lamp hung outside at night attracted mosquitoes.
She nodded, apparently satisfied.
"Best enemies?"
He looked at her, beginning to question her sanity.
"One should have a few of those, too. A good, loyal enemy is something of a luxury, though very few people realize that."
"Er…" Truthfully, he didn't know what to say.
"She's a complete lunatic", he complained to Jim later that day.
"She's a psychologist, what did you expect?" His friend replied distractedly. He was busy staring at a girl who sat a few tables away from them.
"Don't know. Something… different. Not that, in any case."
"I take it, Anya managed to upset you", an amused voice interjected. Looking up, Leonard found Captain Pike standing right next to their table.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Don't worry; she tends to do that to everyone from time to time. Even to me, and I've known her for twenty years."
"Comforting," Leonard muttered darkly.
Pike patted his shoulder, grinning. "She has a unique way of helping people, but usually it works quite well."
"What exactly did you tell her about me?" Leonard asked him suspiciously.
To his surprise, a slight blush crept over the Captain's face, something he'd never seen before.
"She has her way of getting you to tell more than you wanted to tell." He would probably have left it at that, but Leonard was insistent.
"And?"
Pike sighed. "Look, I gave her all the facts. She needed to know them. Beyond that… well… I don't know any of your personal deep dark secrets, so I couldn't tell Anya any of them. But she has a habit of finding things out without ever asking you for them."
"You gave her all the facts?" Leonard asked slyly.
Hard to imagine that… wait a minute, was he actually teasing Captain Pike? Huh…
Pike was now looking pointedly at the ceiling. "Almost."
Jim, who had watched their little exchange with interest, raised an almost Vulcan eyebrow. "You guys hiding something from me?"
"No," said Leonard.
"Yes," said Pike.
Jim grinned. "Then don't be so damn obvious about it. Anyway, I probably wouldn't wanna know about it, would I?"
"Definitely not." Leonard agreed.
"Good. Then I'll leave you to your private conversation, before that gorgeous blonde over there has a chance to slip away…" He got up, whistling softly.
"You're incorrigible," Leonard called after him.
"I know. And I love it." Jim called back, laughing.
Leonard and Pike simultaneously shook their heads.
"That boy…" Pike let the sentence trail off meaningfully.
Leonard nodded. For once, it seemed, they agreed on something.
"He'll break the poor little girl's heart," Pike said lightly.
"She's hardly a little girl," Leonard protested. "Besides – any girl stupid or naïve enough to hook up with Jim probably deserves getting her heart broken. It'll be a valuable lesson for her."
"Not very compassionate, are you?"
"I've got enough on my own plate already."
"Glad to hear you admit that," Pike muttered.
Leonard shot him an annoyed look. "What are you, my troubled conscience?"
"Something along those lines."
"Your life must be pretty boring if you've got enough time to waste it on me."
"I happen to believe it's worth the effort." Pike looked at him intently.
"You're an optimist," Leonard snorted.
"You make that sound like a bad thing."
"It is."
Still gazing at him, Pike made a movement with his hand as if to touch him, but then thought better of it and retreated. Yet Leonard felt the Captain's eyes linger on him more than once during the course of that evening.
Somehow, this bothered him, although he was unable to determine why.
What's the matter with him? Doesn't he have anything better to do than play nanny to me?
So Jim says he cares about me… I ought to be flattered, but I'm not. I just wish he'd leave me alone…
Later he would blame it on Anya. Something she'd said or asked, or maybe just a knowing look she'd given him had set off the dreams again, and they returned in full strength.
He had spent a few rather uneventful days, dreading his morning talks with Anya, working double shifts at Medical and sharing meals and rooms with his mostly silent, yet ever attentive self-proclaimed savior.
He still failed to understand Pike's motives and this troubled him, but all that was forgotten, when his personal nightly demons caught up with him.
There were whispering voices on his mind, in his bedroom, echoing off the walls: You killed him… killed him… killed him… killed him…
Murderer.
You failed them… failed them… failed them… again and again…
Failed your parents. Failed your father. Failed your wife and failed your child…
Now you even failed your friends…
He sat up straight, pushing away the covers and willing away the shadows, but they only seemed to grow, nourished by his anger, his fear, his hatred… they were his very own breed of monsters and they fed on his soul in order to sustain themselves, thereby consuming him from the inside out.
There were faces, dark, threatening faces within the shadows, restlessly moving about, their dead eyes staring at him, their mouths gaping in silent screams of rage and despair.
He tried to cover his eyes, but it would not do. Their shrieks echoed in his mind as he fought to retain his consciousness, his force of will, his sanity…
No… no… I cannot… I WILL not give in to you…!
Murderer, they wailed. You killed him. You had promised to save him, but you killed him!
And then there was Joana's voice and he heard her crying out loud for him.
Daddy! Daddy where are you? Why did you leave me? Why did you abandon me?
Of course, abandon was a word little Joana would never have used as she probably didn't even grasp its meaning. But in this nightmarish dream-world of his, it did not matter. Everything was painted in varying shades of black and grey, there was no light to be found here, no hope, no reason.
He clutched at the sheets, trying not to lose control of himself and failing miserably as he buried his face into the pillows, a wail of despair rising from his chest.
Why?
Murderer!
Why did you leave me?
You killed him!
Daddy!
You failed them!
Where are you?
"Leonard?" A sleepy voice asked. He did not look up. It was not part of his dream, and therefore incredibly unreal at this time. But then the soft padding of bare feet on carpet thundered through the eerie silence as the voices stopped tearing at him to listen… they were waiting, carefully evaluating the intruder.
"Leonard?" Much closer this time. The padding stopped as someone came to stand next to him, warmth radiating off a large body. A hand touched his shoulder and he shot up, only to come face to face with Pike in his pajamas, his hair tousled and his face heated and softened with sleep. Staring wildly at him, or rather through him, Leonard was still captured in his nightmares as the other man moved closer, leaning over him.
Leonard did not move as much as a millimeter when Pike sat on the bed next to him, he did not even blink in return to the other's questions. He was far away, very far away in a dark and desperate place.
"Leonard, you've got to wake up." Pike, sounding genuinely distressed, had taken him by his shoulders and started shaking him.
Leonard was like a marionette, limply bouncing backwards and forwards, staring off into the distance, into the black void that filled his own soul.
"Leonard, please."
At last, Pike drew him close, wrapping him into a tight embrace.
It was his ultima ratio, and it did not fail.
Leonard shuddered, then collapsed, burying his face into the other man's shoulder, his whole body trembling with silent, tearless sobs.
When the first rays of light crept into the room, Leonard woke up to find himself lying in a sort of fetal position, with Christopher Pike curled around him as if to protect him from all evil that might creep out of his dreams and into the room.
For a long, peaceful moment between sleep and waking, it was perfect.
Once he came to fully comprehend the situation, it became awkward.
Pike was still asleep, his warm breath brushing against Leonard's neck. Sitting up or drawing away from him would wake him…
Waking him would lead to more awkwardness and questions.
Therefore, not disturbing him and pretending to be sound asleep seemed to be the best and safest choice. Besides, it wasn't too difficult to settle back into the pillows pretending that there was nothing more important to do, nothing to care or worry about. After a while, he started drifting off and finally, sleep reclaimed him.
The next time he woke, he was alone.
He rose and stumbled to the bathroom to get cleaned up, scowling at the merciless mirror and splashing his face with cold water. Putting on the red uniform that someone had laid out for him, he wondered whether or not Pike would mention the previous night. Leonard himself sure as hell wouldn't…
Someone had also made sure that breakfast was ready, awaiting him on the table in the spacious living area, and was now sitting in his white armchair by the window, staring intently into a mug of coffee. A large mug, that had 'bad night' and 'lack of sleep' written all over it.
Leonard joined him silently, not bothering with a Good Morning as it certainly wasn't one of those. Not surprisingly, it was Pike who spoke first, while Leonard listlessly spread strawberry jam all over his croissant.
"Don't worry about Anya, I've told her to reschedule the appointment. She understands."
"What?" Leonard scowled. "She understands what?"
"Everything, I guess." It was a typically vague answer. "More than I do, at least." There was that intense, scrutinizing look again.
Not the sort of thing Leonard needed right now.
"Look, I'm not going to…"
"I know." Pike interrupted him.
Leonard frowned. "You know what?"
"That you're not ready to talk to me. That's okay. I'm actually capable of accepting certain things without a lengthy explanation."
"Is that why you came to me last night?"
Pike shrugged. "You were in need of company and comfort. I happened to be the only person around. And frankly, I was a little too sleepy to call in Anya to patch up your soul or Jim to comfort you."
Leonard swallowed. It all seemed so simple and logical the way he explained it. And yet…
"Would you repeat the favor?"
Pike looked up from his mug again, surveying him closely. "You're frightened", he realized.
"That's an understatement."
"I'll be there, Leonard." Pike said simply.
"Those dreams Chris mentioned", Anya began a few days later, "when did they start troubling you?"
Leonard squinted in his chair, feeling uncomfortable at the question. "I… don't really know. I've had them for a while now. They come and go. Sometimes they won't bother me for months. Then they return. Some nights are worse than others."
"And recently?" She asked softly.
"It's been bad recently," he admitted. "Worse than usual."
"Is there anything that will help you to sleep untroubled? Anything that'll make them go away?"
"Medicine, sometimes. Sometimes alcohol. Physical exhaustion, too."
"The first two are out of the question." Anya said sternly. "And the last can't always be accomplished. We've got to find some other remedy. You might want to try some meditation techniques."
Leonard looked at her skeptically.
"Don't give me that look. I know that these dreams are merely the symptoms of a much larger disease, but sometimes it helps curing the symptoms before attempting to get rid of the actual problem."
Sighing, Leonard gave in. He had no choice, and he knew it. Between Anya and Chris, they were wearing out his stubbornness.
"Meditation it is."