McCoy stared down at the motionless figure of Jim Kirk and sniffled softly. Gone was any pretense of detached CMO examining a patient; the doctor in him was buried deeply under the heartbroken man aching for his best friend. He felt lost, adrift, more alone and vulnerable than he had on the day he'd met Jim, newly divorced and alienated from the only life he'd known.
He sighed, curling his fingers more tightly around Jim's hand. How could he bear the vast weight of the universe without his friend there to steady him, to shore him up and convince him that he was more than a miserable, half-drunken excuse for a man?
"I was unaware that you held my son in such high regard."
McCoy jumped slightly, not having heard Sarek enter. He moved his hand surreptitiously away from where it had been resting on Jim's, turning to face the Vulcan. He'd been expecting Sarek, but hadn't been able to resist reaching out to his friend in his own way one more time.
"What do you mean?" he asked gruffly. "Can't stand the Hobgoblin."
Sarek raised one eyebrow, and the resemblance to Spock was like a direct cardio-stim. McCoy's heart wrenched, and he looked away, rubbing his chest.
"Only a being equipped with a superior sense of hearing would have been aware of more than your raised voice. As a Vulcan, I was thus able to understand your words to Selek clearly through the ventilation system." McCoy swore softly, eyeing the life support vent in the ceiling above the door.
"Well, don't tell him," he said stiffly. "I'd never live it down."
The eyebrow rose higher, Sarek clearly not understanding the phrase.
"Is he aware of your admiration?"
McCoy sighed.
"I think so. I hope so. You never know with him, but Spock takes everything I throw at him and tosses it right back, so I think he gets it. Besides, he invited me to be his co-best-man at his not-really-a-wedding, so that has to mean something, right?"
The second eyebrow joined the first, and McCoy sighed.
"It's a figure of speech...we never really throw things back and forth, not unless it's necessary for some reason. I just mean that I grouch at him, and he snarks back."
"I see."
He probably didn't, but that was okay. McCoy sighed, folding his arms around his chest defensively.
"Look, I'm going to level with you for a minute, okay?" he said. "I don't do emotions any better than you do. You Vulcans feel so deeply that I worry how you survive it sometimes. You don't express things; that's fine, I don't either. It looks like it, because I'm always snarling at everybody, but that's not what really goes on. You logic your feelings into submission; I growl at mine.
"So I snarl at the Hobgoblin, and I think he gets what's really going on, because if I were to hug the pointy-eared computer he'd probably pass out. At the end of the day, I know that he'll throw himself between me and a kill-set phaser for the same reason that I'll put his guts back inside him in the right order - and last among those reasons is 'duty'.
"And I touch him. Not too often, not too much, but I am his doctor, and I make sure to connect with his skin every now and then, just for a moment, so that he can sense my...regard. I was mad at him for so long, what with him marooning Jim and then strangling him on the bridge - God, until I realized he'd had two other individual's hands wrapped around his throat, I was furious at Spock for doing so much damage to the kid - and when Jim asked what Spock would do if it had been Jim in that volcano, I said he'd let Jim die even though I knew even then that there was no way that'd ever happen.
"That's what makes him the best First Officer in the 'Fleet, Sir; Spock doesn't see himself as more important than anyone else. He is cold and logical, but the founding rule of that logic is that no one is expendable - except himself, which pisses me off. He's one of the most honorable and noble men that I know, and out of the handful of people I've met that I admire, he comes second only to Jim Kirk, and only just."
Speech finished, McCoy stood and began changing settings on Jim's bio-bed.
"That said," he continued firmly, "let's try and get the green-blooded pain-in-the-ass back on his feet, shall we? I want to monitor both you and Jim, so if you could put this on, we can get started." He handed a small sensor to Sarek, who immediately secured it to the side of his neck and sank into the chair McCoy had vacated, reaching out a hand to find Jim's meld points. When he was ready, he looked to the doctor. McCoy nodded once solemnly, then turned to watch the readouts on the screen above the bed.
"My mind, to your mind…"
The lights had dimmed finally, easing both the pain building behind Jim's eyes and the fear brooding its way through his heart. The space around him was still, quiet, and yet he sensed a presence with him, something taking up space in his vicinity. He couldn't feel it, hear it, was unable to open his eyes and seek it out, but somehow he knew it was alive, a sentient thing, an emotional thing. It was as though the lack of traditional senses had opened him to a new awareness, and with it he experienced distant tremors of guilt, fear, sorrow, affection, pain.
An explosion of sound invaded the silence as his ears registered a voice which could only belong to Bones launching into a vicious tirade against Jim's quiet watcher. The measureless fury boiling out of the doctor stunned Jim, the violence of his words a direct contradiction to the gruff-but-gentle personality of McCoy.
When it was over, and silence had filled the space again, a warm hand wrapped around Jim's. It was the first tactile sensation he'd experienced in so long that he jumped - except his body didn't move with the anticipated reaction to his surprise. Beside him, Bones sniffled.
Bones!he cried out in the silence of his mind, desperate to console his friend. It'll be fine, Bones. It will.Another voice intruded into the stillness, this one soft and sadly calm. Jim recognized M'Benga, and Bones's conversation with him ripped at the captain's heart. Stay, Bones, stay,he thought. You can't give up everything just for me! You're wasted as a hospice nurse, you know that!If they'd been functioning, he was certain his eyes would be filling with tears.
Sarek's conversation with Bones a few minutes later, however, had Jim bursting into an internal smile of deep satisfaction. I KNEW you liked Spock,he thought, I knew it!
His exaltation quickly gave way to panic-tinged excitement as he realized what was about to happen. The memory of Selek's mind-meld frightened him, but unlike Spock Prime's overflowing sea of grief and information, Sarek's mind was ordered, calm, and detached from Jim's. Even so, the captain could feel raw edges of pain scraping at him, their sharp points dripping with concern and worry for Spock.
Jim basked for a moment, caught up in the uniqueness of the contact - and then he attacked Sarek, throwing his mind at the Vulcan, desperate to be recognized, to be heard.
I'm here! I'm here I'm here I'm here!He cried. I'm awake, I'm alive! Help me! Don't let Bones leave the ship, he can't sacrifice his career like that! How is Spock, isn't he better now, why are you worried about him?The thoughts were beyond his control, exploding outward in a rush, and suddenly Sarek's presence was ripped from Jim's mind.
When the Vulcan wrenched himself away from Jim, trembling, McCoy's heart lurched and plummeted, landing somewhere in the bottom of his stomach and quivering painfully. Jim's mind was a wasteland, he thought, a sucking void of shattered, bloody bones where knowledge and memory and life had used to reside.
"It would appear that Captain Kirk is, in fact, conscious," Sarek said, "and most concerned about your decision to leave the ship in addition to Spock's well-being."
"What!?" McCoy's heart leapt back into place, beating a wild tapdance against his ribs. "That's not possible, his scans-"
"I am not qualified to hypothesize the reasons behind Kirk's medical readouts," Sarek said, "however, if the captain would refrain from shouting at me this time, I will conduct another meld and endeavor to discover why they do not align with his current neurological state."
McCoy nodded dumbly, noting the pointed stare Sarek gave Kirk when he mentioned the shouting. A blossom of hope unfurled in the doctor's heart, petals fluttering against the inside of his chest as he contemplated the idea that his friend might just make it out of this alive, healthy, and sane.
The mind brushed against his again, and Jim struggled to reach out slowly, gently, easily, to NOT SHOUT and scare the presence away once more. Sarek caught his mental tendrils deftly, pulling on them and sliding their thoughts together.
A cavern opened up around Jim. It was absolutely dark, yet even without light he could see tunnels branching off in every direction, their arched entrances buried under rubble.
What is this? Jim wondered. Sarek appeared beside him in the darkness.
It is your mindscape, Captain,he said. Currently it is shaped by both your conscious and subconscious interpretations of your own mind, as well as my telepathic understanding of it.
I see.Jim looked around, walking up to one of the ornate stone arches, brushing careful fingers over the stones that filled it. I think I'm...broken. Trapped.
Indeed. However, I believe the damage can be repaired.
That's awesome, but how?Jim wasn't trying to be rude, but it seemed far too simple for them to just imagine him better, and he wasn't certain what else could be done in an artificial mental construct.
The construct is only artificial insofar as that it is not entirely real, Sarek said, answering Jim's thoughts - something which made the captain deeply uneasy. It is more of an interface than anything else. It would appear that the pathways which allow your katra, your 'self' to connect with your body are blocked in some fashion. The Vulcan's voice was oddly layered, dual-toned, echoing, and suddenly Jim realized that he was hearing Sarek speak both within his mind and outside it. He must be relaying the information to someone...Bones!
Yes, the doctor is most excited by this information. He says that his scans have shown no swelling or other blockages, but he wonders if perhaps we can locate and possibly remove the block.
How would we do that?
Imagine reaching out to him, speaking with him, being awake and interactive. Focus on the tunnel that would take you to him.
I don't know which one it is!
You do not have to know. Focus, Captain.
Jim frowned, closing his eyes and creating a picture of Bones in his mind, watching himself reach out and clap his friend on the shoulder, slap him on the back, grab him in a hug, simply shake his hand. Something shivered along his senses and he looked, seeing the rocks surrounding one destroyed arch rattle as the carved stone began to glow faintly.
There!Sarek said, triumph coloring his tone. Now, to clear it.The Vulcan strode over to the cave-in and began pulling at the stones, throwing them aside. They disappeared as they left his hands.
Amazed, Jim joined him, the rocks proving to be almost weightless as he unburied the archway, its glow lighting up the cave gently as it was revealed.
It is undamaged,Sarek said. This is good.
In the background, Jim began to hear Bones's voice muttering excitedly. It was as though his ears had been frozen and were slowly thawing, more sounds than he'd previously been aware of seeping into the cave through the passageway they were unclogging. The general noise of the Medbay filtered in along with the rattle of McCoy moving around, shouting numbers and instructions to the nurses who Jim could finally hear - could finally feel.
A warm hand with chilled fingers wrapped around his left wrist, pressed to his pulse-point; even cooler fingers were pressed firmly into his face, splayed out and trembling slightly; a large, calloused hand rested gently in his hair; a hypospray discharged into his neck, its sharp pain a welcome discomfort.
The rocks filling the arch crumbled into dust, leaving an open passage, dark and empty, lying before them. Jim peered down it, disappointed.
I was expecting...well, more than an empty tunnel,he said.
The connection must be re-established,Sarek replied. Imagine-Jim's mind beat him to it, conjuring a silver-white cord that hung suspended in the air of the tunnel. Jim looked behind him, expecting to see another strand in the large cavern, but there was nothing. He looked around for a moment, considering...and then reached out, seizing the cord with both hands and drawing it to his chest.
It flared, expanded, sent tendrils shooting forward to sink into his skin, burrowing painlessly through his chest to spread throughout his body, filling him with sensation: fabric on his skin, sheets and the scratchy paper-gown of the Medbay; beeping from the bio-monitors; the hum of the ship under him; the lemon-sharp smell of disinfectant and sterilization fields; the sting of too-bright lights drilling into his closed eyes; the taste of morning-mouth and bile pooling in the back of his throat.
"Jim?" The fingers on his face withdrew, the cavern and crumbled passages shifting briefly to sun-lit fields that faded into the color-burst darkness behind his eyelids. He struggled to open his mouth, muscles stiff and aching as he finally pulled his teeth apart, tried to speak - and burst into hacking coughs.
"Hold on, Jim, I've got some water here for you, let's just sit you up a bit, there you go…" the bio-bed was elevated, a warm hand moving from his head to the back of his neck, adjusting the angle of his torso so that he could breathe more easily. A straw settled against his lips and he curled them around it, sipping slowly. He wasn't thirsty - probably because the IV he could feel in his arm was keeping him hydrated - but his mouth was dry and stale.
"Slowly, Jim, slowly," Bones cautioned unnecessarily. Jim could hear the creaking of his friend's voice, understood that the doctor needed something to cling to, something professional and distant to help him keep his composure. Jim's heart twisted for his friend.
"Bones," he coughed, pulling away from the straw. "Bones…"
"I'm here kid, it's okay. Oh, crap, lights, sixty percent!" The light dimmed, and Jim cracked his eyes open, looking at the haggard face of the man who'd saved his life countless times. Blue gaze met blue, one watery and lined, the other sparkling and clouded at the same time.
The doctor's ever-snarling face burst into a smile that Jim met weakly.
"Good to have you back, Kid," Bones said.
"I didn't go anywhere."
"Sure seemed like it on our end. If it weren't for Sarek here…" Jim looked over at the doctor's gesture, and the Vulcan inclined his head to the captain gracefully.
"I am gratified to see you awake, Captain Kirk," he said solemnly. "It is a most welcome development. If you will excuse me, I must now see to my son."
Sarek left the room. Casting glances back and forth at each other, the nurses filed out as well.
"Bones?" Jim asked warily. "What's going on? What did he mean, he has to 'see to' Spock? Shouldn't he be better now?"
McCoy turned away slightly, not meeting the captain's eyes. He hadn't wanted to be the one to explain the situation to Jim...but who else was there, truly? He sighed.
"Jim...Spock is...he…" Jim frowned, sitting up further in the bed, fixing his friend with his best Captain's Glare.
"Doctor McCoy, what is the condition of Commander Spock?" he asked. The command tone gave McCoy something to focus on, and he clung to it, pulling himself up to stand at attention, eyes meeting Jim's.
"Sir, I regret to inform you that Commander Spock attempted suicide. He is currently unconscious and not responding to treatment."
Jim's newly restored sense of well-being disappeared.
"Shit."
Sorry this took so long, guys, but to make up for it, it's pretty long.
My serious boyfriend of 4.5 years showed up on my doorstep unannounced and dumped me, and then another grandmother of mine died, so it's been rough over here. I'd really love it if life stopped punching me in the face.
On the other hand, I'm working on going back to school for my graduate degree, so prayers and well-wishes would be appreciated.