This chapter is unbeta'd, but I am good with it. It's been kicking around my files for quite some time. Also, it's not so much vital to the plot, but simply a little side-bar, non-canon idea about McCoy as part-time Academy instructor. I always like to imagine what people will say about 20th/early-21st century medicine and technology etc. As this story will be long, I think this will tie in nicely to 'my' Doctor McCoy and his relationship with Spock.
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"The lobotomization of mentally ill patients, has been considered one of the largest medical controversies in Earth's history. While psychology had been in practice for decades prior, it had entered a radical stage by this time. In earlier times, where patients were simply hidden away in facilities, and I use this term loosely, that were often indeterminable from prisons, the 20th century saw pharmaceutical intervention and psychosurgical procedures."
McCoy procured images of lobotomized patients on the large PADD-like screen that showed a live-feed of the class, to give examples. He watched for the expected flinching and puzzled expressions of the students packing the lecture hall. While the practice was barbaric, he couldn't help but shake his head slightly, wondering if they were disturbed by the method of treatment or simply the sight of a live, exposed brain.
He enjoyed this little side-project of his, being part-time instructor to the Academy. Before he had been deployed, he had tutored first and second year medical students who had combined their doctorates with Starfleet's military curriculum. He had then been approached and offered a part-time position, teaching two days a week; Twentieth Century Medicine and Cell Microbiology III, both honours classes, one being his major in university and focus in medical school. Suffice it to say, he had been disappointed with the lack of stomach these kids had.
He was in the process of convincing the department heads that the students required a more hands-on detailing of the humanoid innards. He felt a scowl developing. Don't grumble at them.
Once the slide-show of photographs had ended, he switched back to the live-feed of just him and his teaching display in one of the medical labs.
Taking a breath, he prepared for the next segment of the lecture and was promptly interrupted by a chirping and then Jim Kirk's voice.
"Kirk to McCoy."
He had been teaching for two semesters now, and his classes filled up quickly around registration time. Twentieth Century Medicine was a new course and combined with the excitement that surrounded new additions, he knew he could keep their attention well-enough. However, the sound of the Captain's voice filling their lecture hall seemed to perk them up a bit. The Grumble spilled into his response, but only a little.
"Yes, Captain?" He sounded a little patronizing there, he could admit it.
"Where are you?"
He broke his eye-to-screen contact and looked around at the invisible voice, responding with an incredulous tone,"I'm teaching a class."
He could hear the smile in Jim's voice, "I'm teaching a class...Captain."
He watched his students mutiny against him and chuckle, "Yes, well, what is it you need? That rash acting up again, Captain?"
Deciding that was enough humour for the students for one day, he motioned a 'one second' gesture and paused himself.
"God damn-it Jim, you know I teach today. What do you need?"
"Spock's gone mad."
"What do you mean, 'Spock's gone mad'?"
"I don't know, I'm not a doctor. Something just isn't right, so I locked us in my quarters so you can come and fix it."
"Okay well, I'm gonna be finished here in about twenty minutes. If anything drastic happens-"
"Something drastic already has happened!"
"-call Nurse Chapel. Otherwise, I will be there in twenty-minutes. Every minute you keep me, is another minute I tack on at the end of class. It's welcoming week, do you honestly want to keep these kids from their well earned partying?"
"Get here as soon as you can. Kirk out."
Resuming his lecture with a sour smile, he apologised, "Sorry for that everyone. However, that's what you can look forward to when you are CMOs and Head Nurses. I suggest you take up a drinking habit early..." Pleased with the unanimous chuckle, he continued on the topic of psychosurgery.
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Jim sat back down in his chair, hoping Bones would be there soon. He couldn't stop staring at Spock, feeling deeply uncomfortable in the other man's presence. Was this what Bones was talking about when he said the line of hybridism in Spock was becoming blurred?
He watched every movement the other man made, becoming more and more distraught as the moments ticked by. The legs couldn't decide whether they wanted to remain crossed or outstretched, a finger was rubbing a line up and down a temple, and he had never seen Spock blink so many times in such short intervals, while the eyes avoided him all together.
"Are you okay?"
He received a disgusted look for that one, "I really don't know how you were given command of this ship, or for that matter, any ship." The eyes were watching him now, waiting for a response, when a question hadn't been posed; a very human thing to do, he noted. He did his best to quell the natural reaction of feeling hurt by such a statement and merely resigned himself to hoping that Bones would be strolling into his quarters at any minute.
"How does it feel, being taunted? I mean, let's not forget how you taunted me, your superior officer, in front of the entire bridge crew, and my father."
The chirping thankfully interrupted the lump that would have likely risen in his throat, and he rose to greet the doctor. Giving Spock a wide berth, he reached the console and permitted entry.
McCoy had enough going on regarding Spock, his other patients, his classes, and so on, so being interrupted by Jim had increased that usual irritation to a slow burn. His nerves were teetering on the verge of a breakdown, and he was continually dreading the debriefing with Starfleet regarding the Monthly Mission Shit-Show that landed Spock in sickbay. He would have to practise that one in the mirror a couple times, and definitely after a few shots of the Tennessee good stuff. He was at least thankful that he didn't have to worry about the Klingon High Council demanding the release of Nero and Company, into their custody. Arriving at his destination, he signalled for entrance. As the doors opened, his medical bag nearly slipped from his grip as he was pulled into his Captain's quarters. "What the-"
"Bones, meet Spock." He could tell Jim's lightheartedness about whatever it was going on, was feigned. He walked around the seated First Officer and glared at Jim before shifting his gaze to Spock. Watching the mannerisms of the other man, he didn't require a medical PADD to know something was off.
Frowning, he shot Jim a glance before speaking to Spock, "What's going on?"
Spock answered with an exasperated sigh, "It's nothing."
He couldn't help himself, and chuckled at the other man. "I will sedate you one way or another if you don't cooperate." Knowing that he was stirring the pot, he decided to further antagonize the other man, "Let's see, you're using contractions, you're being belligerent, you look like a child who had their lolly stolen, please, spare me the juvenile dramatics."
He was rewarded with a sour laugh and a pitying look. Spock stood and turned back toward the doors, still wanting nothing more it seemed than to leave. "You really are pathetic, do you know that McCoy?"
McCoy watched him begin tinkering with the console, attempting to override the authorization. As Jim made to reprimand him, McCoy motioned for him to stop but was interrupted himself, by Spock's continued taunting.
"Really, a failed sham of a marriage, a list of insecurities that could fill countless databases, and a basically fatherless child? Quite the accomplishment there, Doctor."
If he was being honest with himself, he would have admitted at being crushed by Spock's remarks about his daughter. However, his 'failed sham of a marriage' had taught him well when it came to acidic insults and pretending to be unaffected, so it was with a humourless chuckle he replied, "Yes, but in terms of accomplishment, I give that commendation to you. I mean, not many can boast that they wasted precious time engaging in a power struggle with a cadet while they could have been saving not only their entire planet, but the majority of their race from genocide."
McCoy calmly loaded a hypospray while Spock was striding toward him, no doubt intent on maiming him to death. Jim immediately grabbed the snarling man's shoulder, and while momentarily that rage was directed at the Captain, McCoy pierced the skin of Spock's neck with a sedative.
A shot of the Tennessee good stuff, indeed.