Jim lurched his way through the Enterprise's corridors, ignoring the concerned looks of passing crewmen. Each step taunted him with resounding echoes.
Bones had left him.
Reaching the safety of his quarters, he stumbled through the entrance and drank in the safety of his isolation. Attempting to ignore the tears that threatened, he stuffed memories of his friendship down, locking away as much as he could. Jim couldn't recall the origins of the tension that now flourished between himself and Bones, but whenever it began and whatever caused it, that friendship was now in shambles.
He knew that it was most likely his fault. Deep down he was always afraid the day would come when his past would collide with his present, resulting in destruction. He even wanted all of this to be his fault, because it was easier that way. Bones was good, despite the tendency to break out the alcohol as Jim accused.
As the tears he had been holding back began to leak from his eyes, he turned on that thought. He wiped his eyes. He was captain of the Enterprise and in control of the situation. It had been McCoy's mistake that lead to his doubt and poor decisions on Re'an V. The doctor had set him up for failure and quite possibly caused the catastrophe masquerading as a rescue mission on the planet.
Willingly choosing anger to replace his sorrow, Jim numbed his feelings and plodded to his bedroom. He eschewed the lights, knowing too well how atrocious he likely appeared with his unshaven face and two day old command shirt. Tossing the filthy shirt into the recycling chute, he tried to ready himself to resume command of his vessel. If he did this right, no one would suspect that his world had just fallen apart.
Shaving with minimal light, he managed to finish cleaning up without looking himself in the eyes. Feeling utterly and completely alone in the universe, he hunched over on the edge of his bed. Bones was gone. How could he go on without his best friend supporting him?
The minutes ticked by as he stared at the floor, waiting for something, anything to fill his empty places. Finally, he reached over to comm the bridge but stopped himself at the last moment. Better to use his numbness to carry him through his duties. His weakened mental state would likely collapse if he addressed Spock from the confines of his quarters. Jim walked to his desk and set up the PADD. Locating the fallen crewmembers' files, he pulled himself together for the umpteenth time and prepared to do what he must despite the fresh pain in his now hollow heart.
Though he no how idea how he would get through even the next minutes, he resolved that somehow, he would mask his devastation and push through this loss the way he had pushed through every loss in his short life. If he had to resort to tactics that kept him alive on Tarsus all those years ago, he would. He could give a cold shoulder like no one else. He could behave quite amiably around his fiercest enemies if it served his own purposes. Surely he could do this around Bones, for Bones had made it loud and clear he'd washed his hands of his captain.
Jim clenched his jaw. He was Captain James T. Kirk of the Enterprise and nothing - not even the loss of his best friend - would get in the way of him performing his duties as he well should. He would prove to Bones that he was wrong and that Jim, as always, was in control.
A dazed McCoy stood alone, staring at the door as if he could will Jim back with sheer thought. What had he been thinking, arguing with Jim in sickbay? They could easily have been overheard, even here in the contained area with the bodies of the dead crewmen. His stomach contents threatening to spill over, McCoy covered his mouth and rushed to the connecting room holding overflow supplies and a much-needed sink. No only had he fought with his best friend in public, but he'd fought with him immediately after Jim solemnly stood in remembrance of these three fallen crewmembers. He had picked a fight knowing exactly how distraught and emotionally compromised Jim was at that moment.
McCoy made it to the sink just in time. He groaned, the nausea growing as the ramifications of what he said to Jim became clearer. He kicked the captain out after denouncing their friendship and refusing to help him. He had abandoned Jim just as so many others had done before him. McCoy deserved to be hauled off to the brig for that. He knew that Jim was on a path to self-destruction and had hoped that Jim knew it too and knew they needed each other, but his words had backfired. Jim should never forgive him for how he'd raged. McCoy had sunk lower than he'd ever imagined he could. He knew the second the words flew from his mouth that he'd gone too far.
"Dammit," he growled, punching the wall with a fist and welcoming the pain.
McCoy had feared it would take more than mere talk to break Jim's defenses, but hoped to avoid a total breakdown. Now he saw that his efforts had weakened Jim's already tenuous self-control and worse, had broken their bond of trust irrevocably. Though there was precious little he could now do, he could at least follow standard procedure and inform M'Benga. Hopefully Jim would listen to his new attending physician.
He braced his trembling arms against the counter. McCoy didn't have Joanna, except for the rare, precious appointments each week when they connected through the video feed. Jo, at eight years old, was growing - way too fast. He loved every minute he had with her but Jocelyn was pushing for more and fighting dirty using things of McCoy's own past to get it. If she won sole custody, McCoy would be left with only one visit or talk with Jo annually.
If he lost Jim, too...
McCoy gasped, fighting against the rising sob in his throat. It wasn't 'if." It was.
"Leonard?"
He startled. After a deep breath, McCoy roughly cleared his throat, not bothering to look back at Nurse Chapel. "Christine, where's Dr. M'Benga?"
"Leonard..."
He turned around then at her anguished whisper. Her face was pinched, white as a sheet. McCoy groaned, realizing by her expression that she'd heard every word.
"I was here the entire time, Leonard, searching the supply closet," Christine immediately apologized. "I couldn't leave without interrupting and it escalated so quickly...so I stayed."
"You will keep all this to yourself, Chris," he frowned, kneading at his forehead and a brutal headache developing faster than ever.
"I will." Christine handed him a cup of water and two pills. "I figured you might need this."
"Thank you." McCoy said, not sure how Christine knew he would be slammed with a headache.
"You went too far."
Too far? "I pushed Jim off of a damn cliff without a chute and then promised not to catch him," he growled. "Who does that?"
"A friend who cares deeply."
"I don't know what to do, Christine," he said morosely, shocked when a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
"You don't?" Christine's eyes filled with even greater compassion. "Well, to begin with, you could apologize for going too far and hitting him when he's down. You've been through too much with Jim to give up and toss it away so easily."
"I don't think that is going to help."
"It's a start, Leonard. He's not only your captain, he's your best friend."
"It's more than a misunderstanding, Christine."
"I can tell even if I don't know the details. Leonard, everyone knows there is something going on. The captain's tried to hide it, but he's let on more than he realizes. I know you want to help him, but as you accuse Jim, I think you've lost a bit of yourself, too. Instead of attacking Jim, consider why you're doing this to him and what you want to accomplish. Every time you start to get near to him you pull back as if you're reacting to something hot. Even your medical training fails you around him. There has to be a reason. What's going on with you, Len?"
As Christine gently spoke, McCoy discovered she'd laid before him a clearer picture of himself.
"It's Joanna," he hoarsely whispered. "Jocelyn wants Jo. Completely...almost taking me out of the picture. I'm losing her and if I lose Jim, too...I can't watch him spiral out of control. I tried to stop it by doing the best thing I knew to do. I don't know what I was thinking, Chris. I don't know if I can explain any of this at the moment. Maybe...maybe I thought I could help him see it for himself before it was too late. But now...my actions only provoked him. It's too late, Chris. Too late."
"I'm so sorry," Christine exhaled a soft sigh. "And I'm sorry for the captain."
"He was a kid. A damn kid who saw more and endured more than anyone should," McCoy muttered to himself. "In a way, he's still that kid."
"He needs help."
"I screwed up," McCoy shook his head. "He won't accept it from me."
"Although I think your instincts are correct and that he needs to admit there's a problem for himself, your approach simply put him on the defensive," Christine said, her wisdom causing McCoy to frown as he considered the truth in her words. "And after hearing all this, combined with what I've observed in sickbay, he needs all the guidance, help, and aid he can find to get through this. I'm not altogether certain that the help should come from you. You're too close to the situation, Leonard. For his safety, you have to do the right thing, even if it will be difficult for you."
"It won't just be difficult for me," McCoy muttered. "Chris, where did you say M'Benga was?"
"I didn't." Christine narrowed her eyes.
"How am I going to explain this to M'Benga?" McCoy groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Spock. Spock's going to kill me."
An image flashed through his mind of the Vulcan tearing through corridors to sickbay, intent on rectifying the problem. Fortunately, logic was on his side this time, as the Enterprise needed a CMO, or Spock would very possibly consider ripping McCoy's head off of his shoulders if he learned the truth. In all honesty, McCoy realized that his clumsy handling of the captain's adverse reaction to the vaccine exacerbated Jim's condition and invoked a shameful and devastating domino effect. Spock only postponed his initial request to speak with the two of them because of the incident on Re'an - and Jim's obvious need for rest.
"Let Jim tell-"
McCoy snorted. "Jim won't tell Spock that I'm no longer his attending physician. I'm not altogether certain he'll log the change immediately, either. He'll wait for the first crisis to arise, which will be a complete disaster." More importantly, Jim was in no condition to command a ship right now. At the very least Jim required sufficient rest and some time to adjust to this new relationship of theirs. McCoy had no doubt Jim would fight with everything he had to remain in control.
"That can't happen. M'Benga is in surgery." Christine stated simply. "Should I assume the captain missed lunch?"
"M'Benga is in surgery?" To McCoy's knowledge, he himself was scheduled to perform the surgery.
Christine sniffed. "Due to a last moment change in schedule he is. Fortunately, you are available to remind the captain that he needs to eat. And that now makes more sense in my mind than any excuse you've previously given me before for his forgetfulness."
McCoy raised a brow, a bit surprised at her suggestion to disregard regulation. "Christine, your suggestion is..."
"Necessary." Christine set her jaw.
McCoy was going to go with devious. His nurse was altogether too smart.
When the captain was exactly one minute late for his duty shift, Spock commed Dr. McCoy. Perhaps the captain was delayed paying his respects to the three ensigns who had perished on the planet below them. The captain had left sickbay and Spock deduced from the doctor's gruff tone that something else had occurred since he last saw the two men. At that time Spock refrained from leaving his station, not wanting to misjudge the situation or miss Jim if he happened to appear on the bridge while Spock was searching for him.
Vulcans do not fidget and they do not worry, so Spock was doing neither as his fingers drummed against the arm of the command chair and watched the chronometer creep ahead. When he observed that the captain was precisely thirty-six point five minutes late he determined that he had waited long enough.
Jim didn't answer the comm in his quarters or anywhere at all. The computer could not detect his location indicating that Jim purposefully sabotaged the system, possibly because he didn't want to be discovered. Indeed, something was amiss.
"Nyota," Spock swiveled in his chair to speak to his wife but was interrupted by an incoming communication.
She took it and raised an eyebrow in question at Spock. "It's the Re'an, asking for the captain."
"On screen." Spock said, already rising when he heard the swish of the turbolift doors opening. He glanced up at his captain, momentarily taken aback by the expression on Jim's face. Frigid and steely, poised for a fight and certainly not prepped to speak with a normally friendly people. A foreboding sense stole over Spock. It was not what he anticipated or desired to see from Jim, for he had hoped against his own logic that he was wrong. However, the captain's appearance did inform him that Jim's late arrival was caused by the very reasons Spock had calculated.
"Do you wish for me to speak on your behalf, Captain?"
"No." Jim said shortly, finding his seat and smoothing his features just as Prince Lequa appeared on the screen. "Prince Lequa, to what do we owe this honor?"
"Captain Kirk." With the poise Spock had come to expect from Lequa no matter the situation, the prince smiled. "I am pleased to see that you are well."
"Thank you," Jim's smile didn't reach his eyes and his fingers gripped the arms of the chairs. As Jim replied, Spock surmised the captain's guilt replayed in his mind for the five crewmembers were not well but now dead. "How are your children faring?"
"They are well and wish to thank you and your crewmembers. We all do."
"We need no thanks." Jim shook his head.
"You have sacrificed greatly on our behalf. Extending our gratitude is the least we can do. Please allow us at least this to honor those who died to rescue my children."
"Of course." Jim's knuckles whitened, his distress obviously heightening. His words were too quick and clipped to be completely genuine. Spock drew closer to his captain with a single smooth step. "We are happy that your family is safe. The crew members who perished will be remembered with honor."
"We would like to show you our gratitude with a special gift, here in our home. One I am most certain that you, Young Kirk, will appreciate." The prince hesitated. "I realize you may not feel completely comfortable given recent events but please let me reassure you, all is well."
"I have no qualms, I assure you." Jim nodded once.
"Wonderful. Shall we expect you soon?"
"Certainly. I will assemble a team to accompany me."
"Ah, please do include your doctor. We would like to thank him as well for his attentions to our people as they recovered."
"As you wish." Jim's smile grew too large. "Until then."
The communication was cut and silence hit the room as the crew awaited orders. Jim sat still and seemingly encumbered by his own thoughts.
"Captain, I am amenable to accompanying you in addition to Dr. McCoy," Spock nudged him softly with his words. Jim blinked and shook his head as if to clear his mind.
"What? Oh...yes. Mr. Spock, yes, as well as Lieutenant Uhura. I also require a security team of five. And..." Jim glanced over at Sulu. Spock raised an eyebrow at the request for five security officers. Spock reasoned that Jim must feel some degree of unease about returning to the planet. "Lieutenant Sulu."
"Yes, Sir," Sulu replied.
"Meet me in the ready room in thirty minutes."
"Aye, sir."
"Great." Jim slapped his thigh and stood. "Now, I have-"
"To eat."
At McCoy's voice, Jim's expression shifted. His face, now completely void of emotion, placed Spock in a quandary. His foremost desire was to repair the fractured relationship he assumed persisted between the captain and Dr. McCoy. Knowing Jim, this would take time and whatever insight he had into the man called James Tiberious Kirk. Spock had both, but was unsure if inserting himself between the two men would cause their already precarious relationship to deteriorate. For the sake of his captain and the captain's command, he resolved to act despite any possible negative consequences.
"Dr. McCoy, I believe I left you explicit instructions. That is no longer your concern."
"Dr. M'Benga is otherwise occupied with an emergency surgery. He sent me with the reminder and..." McCoy thrust an energy bar at Jim. "This. Now that I have done what he has requested, I bid you good day...Captain."
McCoy nodded to Spock and headed towards the lift.
"Captain?" Spock repeated, lifting an eyebrow at Jim. The nod had been most unnatural coming from the doctor and pointed towards a singular, startling conclusion - McCoy was no longer the captain's attending physician. Spock opened his mouth to speak again, the weight of the situation multiplying quickly and just as swiftly causing dread to swirl in the pit of his stomach. "Captain, may I speak with you in the ready room?"
"Not now, Mr. Spock." Jim's face hardened. "Dr. McCoy."
Jim's sharp command stopped the doctor in his tracks. While Spock could not read anything in Jim's eyes other than unyielding control, Spock glimpsed a myriad of emotions - regret, worry, and grief - in McCoy's.
Logic delayed his previous attempt to approach the captain. The human part of him now forced its way to the forefront, its predominance urging him to no longer wait.
In a desperate, uncharacteristic move, Spock clutched Jim's arm. "I insist, Captain. The ready room."
"Fine," Jim forced through clenched teeth. Jim's arm oozed of tension and tumultuous memories beneath Spock's touch and in that instant, Spock sensed enough to immediately decide upon his course of action. Jim indicated his head at McCoy. "Dr. McCoy, report to the conference room in half an hour for a short briefing. We are returning to the home of the Re'an at the request of Prince Lequa so they may extend their gratitude towards us."
Jim paused and arched an eyebrow when McCoy gave a slight but audible sigh.
"Dammit," the doctor muttered under his breath.
"Do you have a problem with my orders, doctor?"
"No, Ji-..." McCoy scowled. Spock held his breath as he witnessed the precise effort Jim expended to remove every trace of emotion from his being. "Sir."
"I assume...I..." Jim rubbed his jaw and nervously cleared his throat, both of which, Spock deduced, were caused by McCoy's halting use of the captain's first name. Spock couldn't help but give the barest of frowns. "I assume...you will be up for the trip."
"Yes, Captain."
"Very well."
McCoy stepped towards the lift.
"Oh, and Dr. McCoy?" Jim's voice filled with a frightening brightness which differed far too much from his previous demeanor. A chill coursed down Spock's spine, but more so from the wild, tumbling nature of Jim's thoughts. They hinted of cruelty and abandonment, of Jim's desperation in another time and place - but penetrating them was impossible. They were opaque to Spock, his intrusion blocked by something he could neither explain nor fathom.
McCoy halted mid-stride. "Yes, Captain."
"Spock. Let. Go. Of. My. Arm." Jim stretched each and every word, glaring in irritation as he jerked his arm away from Spock's grasp. Spock only released his hold on Jim for the sake of controlling his own burgeoning emotions. McCoy's shoulders folded forward in an unprecedented meek stance, his eyes just as humble as he awaited the captain striding towards him.
"Regarding your visible disdain for my orders and for the planet we are to visit. Consider this your first warning," Jim said softly, face now mere centimeters away from McCoy's. He was obviously speaking to the doctor but Spock picked up every word and each nuance of the captain's expression. The iciness in Jim's eyes was too frigid and unnatural to be anything else but a defensive mechanism, but the sardonic smile on the captain's face was that of a complete stranger. "Doctor."
Jim turned away. The slap in the face that didn't occur echoed in Spock's ears.
His friends were broken. Jim was broken. A swish of the doors behind the departing doctor interrupted Spock's brief reverie. "I will have that word with you now, Captain."
Jim stiffened and paused in front of his chair. "Spock, are you aware that we lea-"
"I insist." Spock nodded his head in the direction of the ready room.
Jim gave a curt nod. Thirty four seconds later the two stood alone in the ready room. Jim crossed his arms and faced his First Officer, tension evident in the tautness of every muscle.
Spock stepped towards the nearest chair and indicted the next one with his hand. "Please sit down."
"I prefer to stand, thank you."
"Jim, please sit."
"I said that I prefer to stand, Commander." Jim's face revealed nothing, a mask of control, feigned though it was. "Of what do you wish to speak with me?"
Jim turned to face the wall with his face now partially concealed from view. The captain rubbed his jaw but after a few seconds his hand stilled, his profile now frozen and belying all that raged within him. He held that posture as Spock deliberately allowed the silence to stretch.
Finally, Spock chose to reply.
"Jim, as your first officer, I must inform you that you are emotionally compromised. Sir, under Star Fleet regulations I hereby relieve you of your command."
A/N: Thank you for the inspiring comments and reviews last chapter! I loved reading them! DLB48 - you deserve kudos for your terrific beta reading. Thank you! To guest reviewer Jenlyn- I am very sorry to hear about you and your friend. I sincerely hope that your heart heals.