Author's Note: Well, many, many things will come full circle in this update! Also, the last scene is actually several POV's and I separate those with x's to make those clear. :-) Thanks so much for reading!
Twelve seconds had never ticked by so slowly. Spock's fury threatened to break the surface, hitting him at its peak when Winona Kirk began to talk.
"You know nothing," she said, her murmur well below any audible whisper. He applauded her ability to hide the volatile emotions which brimmed at the surface.
"You were not on your guard when you spoke with Elise in Jim's quarters."
Winona's eyes bored into his. "I regret my mistake, but I do have my orders, Mr. Spock, and those orders are not to reveal my purpose for this visit."
"It is too late. You must, or I will call Jim over to this table immediately."
"You wouldn't dare," she lifted a brow in contest.
"Vulcans do not lie," he said heatedly, clenching his fist as it rested on the cool table. "It is not an empty threat."
"I am not naive, Mr. Spock," she replied just as hotly, her color returning to her face. "I have seen Jim's struggles. He has come a long way but it is far from over. This - these questions I'm asking behind his back - would literally destroy him. Are you sure you want that to happen?"
"Yet you came knowing it was a possibility," Spock said through clenched teeth. "It is unacceptable, yet you continue to stall. I will not allow you to remain on this ship, and if you are so intent on using your son to gain intelligence..."
Spock allowed his words to fade. Much was speculation and based upon her secrecy, but he believed her to be involved with something dangerous, perhaps a black operation. Otherwise, this request concerning the Re'an's use of dilithium would have come straight from Admiral Archer himself. First, however, he wished for her to admit on her own that she could not leave the ship without gaining more intelligence, therefore necessitating her cooperation with him.
Winona winced with a subtle shake of her head. "If I leave without the answers they seek or at least a reasonable excuse for why I came back empty handed, they will find another way to get what they want from Jim...a more...forceful way. And if they don't get what they want then..."
"They would kill him?" Spock forced the question from his lips, the captain's safety overshadowing any desire to know who 'they' were or what dilithium had to do with their agenda.
"Do you really think that I would take a chance like that? And wait to see what they do to my son?" She peered at him from under her lashes, delicately swishing the wine in her glass. "I am under the impression that they've heard every comm I've had with Jim, since it is obvious they know of Jim's experience with the Re'an. I also suspect that they got their hands on Archer's conversations with you and Dr. McCoy, that it was how they knew about the Re'an mission in the first place. I just didn't expect them to... " She sighed, cursing under her breath. "...they gave me the new orders after I talked to him this last time, when I learned more of what Jim endured at the hands of the Re'an. After the Marcus fiasco, things have been rather quiet and I haven't been in the field as much. None of us have. I thought I could begin to repair my relationship with him without my work threatening his safety."
"Again, I insist that you tell me everything," Spock said in a cool, detached voice. "It is the only way that I will allow you to remain on board this ship, pretending to care for your son."
"I do care for him, Mr. Spock. Very much so," she said, her voice throaty. "It is why I have stayed away until now."
For that reason alone, Spock was inclined to believe in her affection. "Explain," he commanded.
"Jim told me about Dr. Jahnas."
Spock's stomach clenched. "What does Dr. Jahnas have to do with your orders or the fact that you have maintained your distance from Jim for much of his life?"
"She is Orion and one among many who were used most grievously."
"You speak of the slave trade," Spock said.
"Yes," she nodded. "In regards to the Re'an, the slave trade was very much alive."
"How can you be certain?"
"Jim told me about the false memories the Re'an forced into his mind, Aleyah's death included." Winona tapped her fingers against the stem of her glass. "It was not the first time that the Re'an would have had an Orion woman at their disposal. Scientists have already proven that the Re'an were not affected at all by their pheromones, thus pointing to an entirely different use for these women."
"Are you inferring that the Re'an used slaves as their resources for memories?" This conclusion did not come to a complete shock to Spock. Indeed, he realized he should have calculated such a possibility earlier. Slaves had the memories that the Re'an beings needed to ensure their survival, and as they came to them bound, hands and feet shackled, it would have been an efficient extraction.
"Yes, they were used among many others," Winona breathed. "Although, for a long time we didn't even have a clue as to why the Re'an wanted slaves...until after the Re'an had completely disappeared. Even then it was all speculation, for the Re'an were a peaceful species."
"And yet they traded their dilithium crystals for slaves," Spock said slowly.
"Yes, but we believe they could do so only while their dilithium resources were plentiful and available to them in excess," Winona murmured, taking another sip of wine. "Or, perhaps, they merely became stingy and preferred the ability to disappear from the Federation over keeping their species out of extinction."
"The latter was more important to them for the past two decades, a most unfortunate decision and one that resulted in their demise." Spock suppressed his desire to fidget in his seat, dissatisfied still with the information she'd given him. There had to be more. "Do you have proof to back up your accusation?"
"We..." She began.
"We?" Spock quirked a brow, reaching for more. "This intelligence is within Starfleet?"
"You are pushing for far more than I can give, Mr. Spock."
"May I remind you that we do not have time to waste?" Spock suppressed a wave of anger at her unwillingness to reveal the truth. "If you wish for Jim to remain clueless..."
Winona's voice turned steely. "I cannot say, Mr. Spock. Only that there had been rumors but never enough hard evidence or any promise of evidence...until my superiors heard about Jim. However, we did get our hands on blurred footage of a Re'an ship and possible Orion ship meeting two decades ago, mere days before someone, possibly a young Re'an female, tipped a family and told them that the Re'an were dangerous."
"Soona," Spock said quietly.
"I think it was Soona, yes," Commander Kirk said, smoothing her blonde hair behind her ears. "Especially since Jim explained that she had tried to help others before, when she was only a child."
"But why would the Re'an force Jim to remember Dr. Jahnas' supposed death by the snakes? The logical course of action would be to create a manifestation showing Dr. Jahnas alive but used as a resource." Spock said. "Why go to such measures?"
She stared hard at him. "Since talking to Jim, I've come to a conclusion. I think Jim knows something, something the Re'an didn't want him to remember about the relationship they had with the slave traders and in regards to their dilithium crystals. I believe they created the manifestation in Jim's mind purposefully, to sidetrack him. It makes sense that they confused him this way. Instead of Aleyah's memories being used, the Orion woman perished at the hand of hungry creatures to evoke great misery in Jim, a heartache and regret to overwhelm any other emotion or thought. I know Jim cares about Aleyah - and the Re'an were also aware of this. They played him quite well."
"If you were to have approached Jim about this in the beginning instead of secretly -"
"You damn well know I can't speak a word of this to him. It's why you cornered me here in the first place, isn't it?" Winona whispered, glaring at him. "I don't work for you or Archer or..."
She clamped her mouth shut, eyes still tense as she gazed out at the floor. Spock followed suit, too stunned to speak. He watched his friends, who were oblivious, unassuming...happy, even when McCoy misstepped. Nyota teased the good doctor for his slight stumble, the words bringing a wide grin to Jim's face. He laughed in good nature and stopped dancing to clap a scowling McCoy on the shoulder.
"Starfleet," Spock finally said, the words bitter as they left his mouth. "You are working against Starfleet. The dilithium crystals your superiors wish to find are not for the benefit of the Federation."
"A check of powers, so to speak." She looked sharply at him as the couples dancing engaged in more laughter. "And we must find them before anyone else does."
"Why?"
"You know I can't tell you specifics," she said, lips curling into a sneer. "Now do you understand? It is why I can't pull Jim into this anymore than I have to."
"It is too late," Spock said coldly, steeling himself against the bitter truth that he had a decision to make and, ultimately, it was left to him whether or not Jim would learn about his mother's treachery. Her explanation left him unsettled. Was her intent to help by playing this balance of powers? Or to lead resources away from Starfleet and into enemy hands? One fact was clear, despite her deceptive actions aboard the Enterprise, her timely intervention delayed her superiors' interrogation of Jim - and may have prevented Jim from great harm. "Your relationship with Jim must continue or it would look suspicious to both your superiors and to Jim."
Winona looked away, her stony expression marred only by the subtle creases along her brow.
"To prevent further suspicion, you must remain on the Enterprise until one day after Jim's bandages are removed," Spock continued.
Winona inhaled sharply. "If he can see, he may sense something is wrong."
Spock's rage stirred. Despite her professed 'love' for Jim, did she place herself above her son, forgetting that her son's fiercest desire was to regain his command? That he required his sight for this to occur? "It is unlikely that his eyes would have healed so soon. However, your own resolve has weakened and your feelings are coming to the surface. Elise sensed your conflicted emotions almost immediately."
Winona's eyes filled with resignation. "I tried to keep my feelings at bay, but Jim...well, we're at a place we've never been before. I feel things. Things that are new, because of all he's been through, and I cannot stop them when I am around him."
"Of what things do you speak?" Spock asked.
"Guilt," she said quietly, look down at the floor. "And because of my feelings, there is a chance that if he observes me..." Winona's voice faded to nothing.
"He will know you are lying to him?" Spock interrupted, his demeanor turning to steel. "That his own mother has manipulated his love for her in order to uncover information for an organization seemingly working against Starfleet? That you are essentially a traitor?"
"Traitor is a strong word."
Indeed, it was, but it was the only word he saw fit to describe her until he considered these facts in earnest.
"As is the word 'love,' Spock replied. "Which you have given so freely to your son."
"Touché, Captain Spock." Winona laughed harshly, reacting much like the woman cornered she was. "But, yes, you are correct in thinking that Jim will suspect I am hiding something from him. But you want that to happen, don't you, Mr. Spock?"
"I want to spare Jim pain and that is why I, as Acting Captain of this vessel, will no longer allot you time alone with your son. Indeed, you will be guarded by security at all times except for when you are in my presence. While I come to a conclusion of how we must proceed, you will not speak a word of your deception to anyone nor will you attempt to obtain intel. I will inform you of my decision the morning you intend to leave the Enterprise."
Winona's gaze settled across the room, on Jim, her expression a disjointed reflection of her guilt, love, and treachery. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I regret ever baring my heart to Jim."
"An apology is illogical as it will never suffice, Commander," Spock said. "And it is too late to offer one. The second you selfishly decided to love your son, you endangered him. You endangered us all."
The day had come. It was time to remove the bandages and begin a new part of his journey. Jim stood outside Sheffield's room in sickbay, wondering if he was going to hurl right there in front of his own mother or on the doctor's shoes in the room. He hadn't been nervous like this in a long time. It was a little humbling.
"Baby, I'll be waiting," his mother whispered and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Jim found her arm, his hands fumbling only a little before he gave her a gentle squeeze. He breathed out slowly through his nose, wishing she could stay while the bandages were removed. He felt like he was four and waiting for permission to eat dessert or play a game or... "Maybe you can wait...with me."
"I know you want me to stay, Jimmy, but...they think it's best you do this on your own. I think so, too."
He licked his lips, nervously swallowing, almost begging her to stay with him. He didn't quite know what to do with himself. "You're leaving tomorrow," he said instead. Jim's heart already felt the loss. It was a little earlier than expected.
"I know," she murmured, kissing him on the other cheek. "I know, but we can still talk. This is you getting your life back, Jim. You'll always have me, no matter what, but your focus needs to be here. It needs to be on this and everything that will fall into place after your sight returns."
"If it does," he whispered.
"It will," his mother said, voice filled with warmth. "Now...go. You're going to make me cry...again."
Jim gave a half laugh, pretty sure his mother had never cried so much in her entire life until the past week. "You'll wait?"
"Yes," she said. "As promised."
Jim nodded and following his mother's lead, dropped his hand from her arm and allowed Bones to take him to the room where Sheffield and his staff waited.
"Are you sure you don't want Spock here?" Bones asked quietly in his ear.
Jim shrugged. Who knew why, but he wanted his mother, and not Spock. It didn't make much sense to him, except, he knew he'd be dealing with copious amounts of disappointment and if he had to sense Spock's as well, it would be too much. It wasn't that he liked his mother more. Quite the opposite. Spock was family. He was his other best friend. He was...well, the fact was that his relationship with Spock was complicated and finally, Jim was learning, just as dependent upon Jim doing for Spock as Spock had done for him in the past.
"I must remind you, captain, that results are not immediate," Sheffield said after Jim sat down. Bones' hand rested on his shoulder, his scent of mint and a hint of the bourbon they both drank last night bringing a sense of calm to his mind.
"I'll still be blind," Jim said in a quiet voice.
"Yes," Sheffield agreed. "As you already know, the technology has begun to feed nutrients to your optical nerves. We've also repaired damaged tissue surrounding your eyes, more than what we originally thought we could repair. I am hopeful, Captain Kirk, that we will see a change in a few short months."
Jim forced nausea down with sheer will as his nerves nearly got the best of him. He was glad Sheffield was hopeful because he wasn't sure exactly what he should feel, himself. For Bones and Spock, he'd tried to be greatly optimistic for the entire seven days he'd been blindfolded. However, the truth was that he assumed he'd eventually become a blind teacher at the Academy within the year. If Bones would let him that is. Jim sighed. And if Spock would let him off the Enterprise. He wavered between staying and going, leaving to allow his friends the luxury of not caring for him or staying, knowing that they'd worry for his safety on every single mission of which he was permitted to participate.
"I believe that your sight has a better chance to return than other cases, given the nature of the injury," Sheffield continued. "However, as we wait, it's natural to feel disappointed, even distraught and anxious."
Jim gritted his teeth. He was already feeling that anxiety, most of it managed by Spock through their bond although he'd told his friend it wasn't necessary. He didn't want to depend upon Spock like a...like a crutch...not if he wanted to get to the command chair.
"Jim?" McCoy asked. "We can do a few other things to put you at ease, if you want."
"No, I'm fine, Bones." When silence ensued, Jim could hear McCoy thinking bullshit. Jim would be rolling his eyes at his mother hen if he could. "Unless you still give full body massages?Learned any good impersonations of Spock while I was out of it? Better yet, maybe - "
"Pardon the captain, Dr. Sheffield," Bones interrupted. "But this is what happens when Jim doesn't want to admit he's nervous. He's a smart-ass."
"What?" Jim protested. "I'm serious. If you could do those things, Bones, I would guarantee that I'd feel better."
"Heaven help me," Bones muttered.
"But I'm being serious," Jim said, affronted.
Bones sighed. "I know ya are and that's what scares me. Dr. Sheffield, seeing that Jim went this far, the smart-ass remarks probably did him some good."
"Alright, I think we're ready, then," Sheffield said with a laugh. "After we unwrap your bandages, there may still be some residual swelling and burning for a day or two."
"Itching?" Jim asked, dreading the answer.
"That part's behind you," Sheffield replied, humor in his voice. Jim exhaled in relief. "Are you ready?"
Jim didn't mean to hesitate, but he did.
"Jim," Bones warned.
"I'm fine."
"Here," Bones said softly, pressing something into his hands. Jim ran his fingers around the hard edges of the small item, frowning as he examined it. "Now you're fine."
It was the chess piece.
"Spock saw that you left it out on your table," Bones said. "Gave it to me right before I came in."
Jim pressed his index finger into an edge of the knight, smiling to himself. With a deep breath, he gathered his courage. "Dr. Sheffield, I believe I am ready now."
"Good," the doctor said. "Let's get started."
"Chris," McCoy said quietly, one eye on Jim and the other on the nurse at his side.
"Already got it," Christine replied.
"You're no mind reader. You can't possibly know what I was going to say."
Chris arched a brow and deliberately turned her head to glance over at Jim on the opposite side of the room. Ten minutes after the bandages were removed, the captain had finally been allowed to carefully examine his own eyes. More specifically, the tiny implants that were sure to feel like mammoth-sized additions to his face, not to mention the scarring. Jim was still as blind as a bat, as Sheffield had cautioned them all that Jim would be, and his sense of touch was more or less magnified because of his lack of sight. As he watched Jim's fingers gently graze the changes on his face, McCoy was was certain that his best friend was deeply conflicted.
"He's going to need a few days to get used to them," McCoy murmured.
"And that's why the sedative is in the bag for when you take him back to his quarters," Christine replied. "You know as well as I do that he won't sleep without it."
"His mind will be going at warp speed."
"So, you just have to keep him busy," Christine said quickly. "It won't be difficult with his mother still here and the crew biting at the bit to speak with him. I imagine the captain needs to be immersed in ship life, even more now that the bandages are off."
"Wish I could convince him to let me run the dermal regenerator," McCoy said quietly.
"Why can't you convince him?" Christine asked.
It was an innocent enough question but McCoy had only a loaded reply for her. "The Re'an."
Christine's brow creased. "So, by that you mean that his Re'an side is at the forefront right now and he won't accept the treatment because he's coming to grips with these particular changes first. And it may be awhile before he ever agrees to the treatment."
"Right."
"At least you know he's not being stubborn about it on purpose," Christine said softly. "This is Jim now, Len."
"I know." McCoy's hand gripped the medic bag. He should get Jim up to his quarters before Spock's shift ended.
"I know you know that," Christine took a deep breath, "but sometimes...sometimes you get ahead of yourself...and that means that you get ahead Jim."
McCoy scratched the back of his neck, slightly ashamed that she was completely right to call him on it. "I only wanted to get rid of the scarring so when the time comes and he can see, he's not completely put off by the face that is staring back at him."
"He's different but I don't think it'll hit him that badly," Christine mused.
"Maybe, maybe not," McCoy said slowly.
"I don't think anyone else will bat an eye, either. We all just want him back," Christine continued. "Besides, he's..."
"He's what?" McCoy frowned, glancing over to where Sheffield spoke with Jim.
"He looks very much like a captain you don't want to cross, which may help in the long run to offset this slightly different personality of his."
McCoy forced himself not to look at Jim again and shrugged the strap of the bag over his shoulder. "He's darker, I'll give him that. Like a pirate."
Christine smiled. "You're worrying too much, Len. Give our Captain Pirate a few days. He may change his mind as long as you don't hound him."
McCoy wanted to smile at the moniker Captain Pirate, but disappointed with his own over-reactive tendencies, he settled for a scowl. "I'm not hounding him."
"Not yet you're not," she replied. "But he'll hear something in your voice if for some reason you can't let this go. He'll be fine, either way, Len."
"I'll be patient," McCoy said after a moment's pause. He'd try, at least.
"Good. I knew you'd see things my way," Christine said cheekily and turned away, taking one step. Then she pivoted on her heel and gave him the no-nonsense stare that sometimes made McCoy shake in his boots.
"What now, Nurse Chapel," McCoy growled.
"He misses your grumpy jokes." Christine pulled him by the arm, further away from Jim and Dr. Sheffield.
"Grumpy jokes?" McCoy stopped her, immediately confused. "I don't make grumpy jokes. I make jokes. Plain and simple, just like anyone else."
Christine huffed. "Listen, Leonard. He's feeling badly that you no longer joke with him like you used to. And they are grumpy. Used to be, anyway."
"But...we joke. All the time, actually." McCoy defended himself. "In fact, we have jokes coming out our ears."
"He told me that he could count on his one hand how often you made grumpy jokes, and that was in the passing of weeks, Len."
McCoy frowned. "If he feels this badly about it, why doesn't he -"
"Come to you?" Christine's shoulders sank. "Really, Len. You know he won't."
"He came to you," McCoy said.
"I'm his nurse. I check on him, I check on him a lot."
"And I don't?" McCoy said indignantly.
"I swear, sometimes I think you're walking on eggshells around him. And now Jim is as bad as you," Christine said in exasperation. "Why haven't you talked about things, Len? Like...really talk."
"Was hoping I wouldn't have to, and now with his mother here..." McCoy sighed. "She's leaving tomorrow. Maybe when she's gone. I didn't want to take time away from them."
"Do you really think Jim would think that way?" Christine asked.
"I don't know what he thinks anymore." His bitterness laced every word.
"He thinks you're his best friend," Christine said simply.
McCoy swallowed. "I am."
"Then act like it."
As the confident, too-smart-for-her-own-good nurse walked away, McCoy was left with the impression that he had failed miserably.
She wanted him to tell Jim the truth, but it was truth that Jim had probably figured out on his own. He did stuff like that. Figure out McCoy before McCoy figured it out himself. Jim was smart like that, still smart like that.
But, maybe it was the best thing to do to come clean with Jim. It may be the only way that the weight would come off his chest, and it may be the only way he'd be able to function like he used to around Jim. He'd tried, all on his own, but the thing was, if Jim noticed McCoy's behavior, the behavior he thought he'd changed...he was doing a damn poor job of it.
"Dr. McCoy?" Sheffield approached him.
"Yes," McCoy said, clearing his throat.
"Captain Kirk is feeling...Honestly, I'm not sure how to describe it."
"He's out of sorts," McCoy said quietly. "I expected that."
The other doctor nodded. "I suggest getting his mind off things while his eyes heal, maybe offering some entertainment that my other blind patients enjoy."
"You have a more specific suggestion?"
"Theater," Sheffield said, smiling. "Something with the arts. I imagine you have many talented crew members that could participate. Also, with his mother still aboard the Enterprise, it would be something else that they could enjoy together."
"Theater," McCoy repeated. Hell, it wasn't what he would choose to do for Jim, but this Jim just might enjoy that. Jim couldn't see, but he could damn well hear - and McCoy knew one particular hobgoblin who played the Vulcan lute.
"I highly recommend it," Sheffield rubbed his jaw. "Your captain is an intelligent man but he is thinking too hard about his condition. It will be a change of pace. He needs that more than ever right now."
They all needed a change of pace. "Dr. Sheffield, you're right. That just might work."
"Trust me," Sheffield smiled. "It will."
Spock did not intend to speak with Commander Kirk longer than necessary after the theatrical event the crew had successfully organized and performed for their captain. He felt some unease keeping her treachery from Dr. McCoy, but having calculated a strong and perhaps unprecedented response from Leonard that Jim himself may sense, he decided that, for the time being, this was his burden to bear alone.
"Whatever you've decided, Mr. Spock, thank you for the efforts that you and Jim's crew have taken to provide my son moments of laughter and happiness," Winona said within her quarters, holding her head high. Jim had escorted her here five minutes prior, oblivious to the security officers and Spock trailing them. "The program took Jim's mind off of his blindness."
She spoke without inflection in her voice, a stark contrast to her emotion while she was in Jim's presence. Indeed, her son's love affected her most peculiarly. Spock strongly believed the love she professed for Jim was sound and had even influenced her to keep to the measures Spock had demanded.
"Jim's crew is loyal, Mrs. Kirk."
Her nose flared slightly at his implication. Although Spock did not believe her to be a physical threat, the two security officers behind him would remain once the doors to her quarters closed. He would not take any chances but he could not place her in the brig in fear that Jim would learn of it.
"I know that you think- "
"I believe the situation to be precarious and you must speak of it with Jim."
She cursed under her breath.
"Or, I shall do so in your presence."
"Is that your decision then, Mr. Spock?" She said, words stiff.
"It is my decision at this present time," Spock said. Indeed, he had altered between revealing to Jim the entirety of his mother's deception and indefinitely keeping it a secret in an effort to ease Jim's pain while blind. "However, come morning, I will have made my final choice in the matter."
"Please, I don't want to be the one to have to tell him," she said quietly.
"Than I shall do so in your presence tomorrow, but would it not be better for the truth to come from your own lips?"
"Better?" She gave a short laugh.
"I will not relent, commander," Spock stated. "And tomorrow I will insist that you reveal what you have not yet divulged."
"I have told you everything that I can," she said in a hushed voice.
"That, Commander Kirk, is still to be determined."
"I've never been prouder of my crew," Jim exclaimed as Nyota ushered him into her quarters. "I mean...who knew? I didn't."
The show that they had put on for their captain was over, and by the way that the captain rubbed his eyes, being cautious of the implants and surrounding scarring, the event may have taxed the captain. Nyota peered at him carefully. There were the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. He was clearly fatigued. But, like usual, Jim defied his body. He was determined to accompany his mother to her guest quarters and then Nyota to hers before heading for his own. The evening had been long - even the captain fell asleep during the show for a few minutes. She'd shared a smile with his mother over Jim's head, which rested on the doctor's shoulder, but now, Jim continued to chatter. At least his crew had put on a damn good program, redirecting their captain's attentions elsewhere as the doctor had suggested.
Jim laughed. "They're a talented bunch. First, Scotty. I mean...hell...who knew he could impersonate Spock so well. I've been waiting for years for someone to do that. Wish I could've seen it, though. And Spock...master of the Vulcan lute?"
Uhura held back laughter at the memory of Mr. Scott and tucked her hand around Jim's bicep, urging him towards a chair.
"Didn't anyone ever tell him that a standing ovation meant he could play just one more song?" Jim said. "Not that I minded, or anyone else for that matter, the fact that he played for an extra thirty minutes! I really enjoyed it. I was soothing. I almost fell asleep. Actually, maybe I did. He's really good, Ny."
"I haven't heard him play in awhile," she admitted before she could help herself.
"Because of...me, right," Jim asked, straightening his shoulders. He pulled his chin up, his eyes narrowed as he tried to find her face in his world of gray.
"Because of a lot of things, Jim," she said quietly.
His eyes flitted to the floor as his hand clenched the top of his cane. "When do you think he's coming back?"
She almost rolled her eyes, not understanding why he didn't just use their bond and ask Spock himself. "I know he was speaking with your mother and then-"
"My mom?" Jim lifted his head, frowning.
"He'll be here soon. He told me that he wanted to speak with you before you retire to your quarters," Nyota hesitated. "You aren't going to run off, are you?"
"Maybe," Jim mumbled, eyes downward once more at his shuffling feet. He tapped his cane once on the floor.
"You just got here," she said, wanting to shake him out of his melancholy or whatever it was that was eating at him. She practically forced him into the chair. "Would you like something to drink?"
"I still can't see," Jim said.
Nyota took a deep breath. "He knows," she said softly. "It was expected. You need more time."
"And I have this scarring around my eyes. I don't want Spock to see me up close yet."
Nyota sighed, wondering if she should tell him that Spock already had seen, when he was coming down the aisle to play the lute. She knelt comfortably on her knees before his chair and grasped his hand, determined to draw him out of his shell. "Is that why you wanted to come to Spock's quarters? It makes sense," she teased him. "Considering that he does sleep here, you know. I'm sure you won't run into him."
Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "I...well...yeah I guess it doesn't make much sense."
"Not really." Nyota smiled. "But there's a lot on your mind. The scarring...it really bothers you that much?"
"No...I mean I guess not. It's there...and because it's there, I can't seem to make myself agree to the treatment to heal the scar tissue." Jim's brow creased. "I guess that's because...
He is Re'an.
"You have a lot on your mind," Nyota repeated.
"It's no excuse. I don't think I make much sense these days," Jim mumbled.
"And that's okay. You're still finding yourself," she said.
Jim pulled something from his pocket. "Here." Jim took a breath and held out the familiar chess piece.
"That's yours," she gently reminded him.
"I know, but..." Jim huffed, still holding the knight in the palm of his hand. "Just take it. I want Spock to have it...to tell him..."
"Go on," she urged, taking the knight from his hand.
"If he still wants...I'll play that game of chess with him in the morning. Before my mom leaves. It'd have to be early. I want to spend time with her before she goes. Bones will be there, with breakfast."
"Okay," Nyota breathed out, hiding whatever excitement she could. Spock had felt disheartened by Jim's original reaction about playing chess with him and this was just what he needed to lift his spirits. "I'll tell him."
"He can comm me later," Jim said. He shifted in his chair, mouth drawn tight. "Bones will be over shortly to see if I'm alright."
"Okay," she said. "If that's what you want."
He nodded and pulled himself up slowly, and as if he was in no hurry to leave, held his cane loosely in his hand.
"Stay," she said. "He is coming,"
"I shouldn't. It's late. Winona leaves tomorrow." Jim shrugged. "I appreciate it, though, and maybe after my mom leaves and if you have some time away from the bridge...we can..."
"Go to lunch?" She offered.
"Or, find Scotty and see if he does any grumpy doctor impersonations," Jim flashed a grin, surprising her with its beaming quality.
"Now that would be entertaining."
"Just don't tell Bones," he leaned forward, whispering. "I'm already in a lot of trouble with him because of Sam."
"Wouldn't dream of it," she laughed.
Jim nodded with a smile. He left and as Nyota expected, Spock came through the door less than five minutes later.
"He did not stay." Spock said, his disappointment bleeding through. She didn't say a word. What could she say that would even begin to help? Something bothered Spock. Nyota didn't know what it was. She didn't ask, but the despair she sensed from Spock put her into tears the first morning she realized something was wrong.
"He's tired," she said honestly.
"It was challenging for him."
"But he enjoyed himself."
Spock glanced past Nyota to their table. Seeing what she set in the center of the otherwise empty chess board, he strode over to the table and picked up the knight, turning it over in his hands. "This is not mine. My chess set is already complete."
"No, it is not yours," she said slowly.
"It is Jim's."
"Yes."
"Why did he leave it?" Spock turned to her. "I do not understand."
"You don't?" She asked, head cocked. "It seems simple. It's...a note."
"He gave me a chess piece. It belongs to him." Spock's mouth turned down into an almost imperceptible frown. "He wants me to know that...he is ready to engage in a chess game. I am to bring it to his quarters."
"In the morning, before his mother leaves." Nyota said. She held back. Spock's emotions were tightly strung, which had occurred the last time he'd spoken with Winona Kirk.
"I see," Spock said quietly. "I will meet him in his quarters. I..."
"What is it?" She walked towards him, wanting to bottle his hurt for him.
"I cannot speak of it. I must meditate."
"I know," she murmured, stroking his arm. "I know."
Spock wordlessly entered his bedroom, the door sliding shut behind him.
Nyota sighed. Spock needed space, and she wasn't averse to sleeping on the couch if it meant he could get whatever it was that he needed to straightened in his head. She took off her boots and settled on the small couch, leaving the blanket in their warm quarters untouched. As the lights dimmed, she stared at the chess board, stagnant and empty on the table. Once upon a time, it had been the place where two friends connected on a level she respected but never quite understood. Once, two friends shared a camaraderie that was a foundation for the stability of the crew. They still did, but it would never be like it once was. It was different, maybe even better in some ways. Except...
Nyota closed her eyes, affected by Spock's mood more than she'd first thought.
"Forgive me, Nyota."
She opened her eyes at his whisper, heartbeat drumming slower. He looked down at her and she looked up at him, no other word needed to be spoken. But she couldn't help herself.
"It's Jim, isn't it?"
"I cannot speak of it." He sat beside her, as she curled onto her side.
"I know, but if it is the captain and you are this concerned, then...he will be okay."
"You speak logically, Nyota."
"I'm right," she said, gathering the hair off her neck. She peered up at him. "Now go meditate. I'll be fine and Jim...he will be too."
"I do not know what will transpire tomorrow after I have reached my decision."
"You have a decision to make by tomorrow?"
"I had already made my decision but Jim's request has altered it," Spock said.
"Okay, so you'll play chess with Jim," she reminded him softly. "Whatever will happen will happen, but first...you'll have that. With him."
"Again, your logic is sound. Sleep. Do not be anxious for me," he said and before retreating as he'd done before, replaced the knight in the center of the empty board for her to see.
McCoy ran a hand over his rough face as he paced in Jim's quarters. Christine was right. Spock was right. He had to speak with Jim and after tossing and turning all night it was clear that it had to be today. Only, he wasn't sure he could last with his secret until after Winona left, which was soon after the chess game this very morning.
"Are you that nervous about this game?" Jim said. McCoy glanced at his friend, who sat with arms crossed, a smirk on his face. "Is it that you're worried I'm going to lose? Or that I'm going to win and Spock will have lost to a blind man. Because, really, that would be sad."
"That's not even funny." McCoy scowled, still pacing. "Stop it, Jim."
"I can't make blind jokes?" Jim asked incredulously.
"No," he snapped, turning to glare at Jim. "You can't."
"But I'm the one that's bli - "
"Doesn't matter. It's rude."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Rude to whom? You?"
"Well...yes. I'm your best friend, you moron, and if you don't have the decency to feel badly about being on the receiving end of a joke about a blind man, than I'll be upset for you," McCoy rambled as he paced faster than before.
"But...I'm the one who made the joke."
"Really doesn't matter who made the joke, only that it was made at your expense," McCoy snapped.
"Will you just tell me what's eating you?" Jim asked with an exasperated sigh. "Because you're starting not to make any sense and if you wait any longer before you bother telling me what's wrong, it'll make even less sense."
"Not now," McCoy muttered. "Spock's almost here."
"The game can wait if my best friend woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Jim said.
"At least I'm making jokes that are..." McCoy swore. He couldn't go there. Grumpy jokes? What the hell was he thinking?
"That are what?"
"Lamer than yours, Captain Pirate," McCoy finished and plopped down right beside Jim to distract him from their current conversation.
"Captain Pirate?" Jim snorted. "Don't I need a sword or at least an earring? Though, I guess it's because of my dark hair...and eyes. Who came up with that one?"
"Who do you think? You want more to eat?" McCoy asked.
Jim shook his head. "No."
"You hardly ate," McCoy mused, staring at the soggy cereal in Jim's half-empty bowl. "It's your favorite kind, Jim, of the healthy stuff I give you."
"It hardly has any sugar," Jim mumbled.
"Still one of your favorites."
"Just because I like it doesn't mean that it's easier on the nerves," Jim mumbled.
"If you don't want to do this today, you don't have to," McCoy said softly.
"I promised him," Jim said, head down, "And I'm tired of breaking my promises."
"Okay." McCoy could understand that. "But if it's too much strain, Jim, I'm calling the shots this time."
Jim pursed his lips.
"Jim, we only want to do what's best for you and - "
"When is it time for me to make decisions about what's best for you?" Jim said as his eyes lifted. McCoy watched those sorrowful baby blues, his own sadness once again punching him in the gut. "For Spock? For everyone on this ship?"
McCoy hesitated. A storm was brewing in that mind of his, and McCoy really didn't have a good answer for Jim, at least one that would encourage him. "You've already done so many things in our best interest, Jim, including saving our lives...numerous times."
"But I want to do more. I have to do more, Bones," Jim pleaded. "It's not enough."
Only Jim would think that having saved their asses multiple times wasn't sufficient. Neither was the fact that he died once to do it.
His best friend really was a moron.
"It's all I think about," Jim continued.
"Well, you're in the midst of a decision now," McCoy said. He got up and took the bowl to the counter. Back turned to Jim, he continued cautiously. "Sitting here, waiting for Spock so you can play that chess game he wanted with you. You're doing what is best for him, you know."
"Right."
Jim's almost dead tone was like sandpaper against his own hurting heart. McCoy braced himself against the counter. He was an idiot, thinking he could have waited this long to speak with Jim. He had to do it, or he would start reacting to Jim negatively. He turned to Jim and opened his mouth to speak when the computer announced Spock's timely arrival. McCoy sighed and crossed his arms. Just when he'd had the nerve.
"Come," Jim said, tapping his fingers on the table as Spock entered. "Bones, promise me you'll stay. You are staying, right? Grumpy or not, we need someone to referee, especially if the blind man wins. Who knows what Spock will do if he loses," Jim finished with a grin.
His expression nothing but the picture of serenity, Spock sat in the chair across from Jim in one smooth movement. "I would congratulate you."
"That's all?" Jim said, brow furrowed. "No complaints? No demand for a rematch? You two are no fun today."
Spock turned the board one hundred eighty-degrees, right under Jim's nose, and took his first move with a white pawn. "I find myself already pleased with our game."
"What?" Jim sputtered. "Who said you could go first?"
"I assumed you would not want me to show...favoritism."
The look on Jim's face was priceless. McCoy chuckled. "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this," he drawled and pulled his chair over to where he'd have a perfect view of both their faces. He sat down, relaxed into the back of the chair with both arms behind his head.
"Did I assume I correctly, Jim?" Spock asked.
Jim scowled. "How am I even supposed to do this again? Where did you even move?"
Spock silently took one of Jim's pawns and pressed it into Jim's hand. "Use our bond."
"Do I close my eyes?" Jim asked, fingers curled around the piece.
"It may be necessary at first."
"But...how can I see gray blobs if I close my eyes?" Jim sighed dramatically. "What do I do? Close my eyes - or not?"
"I cannot clarify."
"You don't have a damn clue as to what you're doing, do you, Spock?" Jim said with a wry grin.
"I have reached several conclusions concerning this technique, having reached a fully calculated hypothesis, but they are not infallible," Spock stated.
"That's the Vulcan phrase for 'It's all bull-shit.'" Jim said. "Fine. I'm closing my eyes."
"Doctor, I will now engage the bond I have with Jim. If there is any change in the captain's vitals, you must intervene."
"I'll watch out for him," McCoy confirmed.
Spock paused. "Jim?"
"Let's do this," Jim said quietly.
xxx
Do you know which piece I moved, Jim?
You know very well that I don't.
Allow me to show you.
Jim's mind opened, allowing him entrance, and Spock reached forward to widen the bond. The space allowed him to reach beyond anything he'd ever attempted to touch in those depths. He pushed passed the Jim's basic understanding of his own sight, the threads which reinforced the shadows and light passing through his misfiring nerves, riding on the electrical impulses. He had never heard of any Vulcan providing a blind person with a stilled image or a holo. He had never heard of any telepathic being capable of aiding the blind. Spock had no idea if his hypothesis would end in utter disaster. But, if he kept to the standard of Captain James T. Kirk and believed in no-win-scenarios, at the very least this exercise would strengthen the bond they had with each other. Spock was not averse to the change.
He sensed Jim's breathing quicken as he settled as if he were looking through Jim's eyes himself.
What the hell, Spock?
What do you see?
Well, nothing's changed but...you're seeing what I'm seeing, aren't you.
Your eyes are closed, Jim. You are not seeing anything.
A mere detail, Spock. A mere detail. I mean...you see my memories that are all gray. Bones pacing, moving like a blur...do you hear him? He was grouchy.
Spock imagined the doctor as Jim described, colors surrounding the human, the doctor's movements and mannerisms, and the possible emotions etched on Leonard's face. They flashed and turned and flipped through his mind before he reached and held it fast. The movement halted. There it was, rich in as much detail as Spock could fill it with. He then pushed the image away from himself, freely and wholly, allowing it to leave his grip and transfer to Jim.
A jolt passed between the bonds. Stunned, Spock held on, never relenting. He would make this happen. He pushed it through again, feeling fire between himself and his captain.
What the fuck, Spock, you just gave me Bones. Jim faltered. But...but...he's...damn, he needs to shave. And eat...Spock, what's wrong with -
Spock pulled the image away, seeing the distress it caused, but carefully as he discovered that the mere pulling away would damage their own connection. Leonard is well. He wants to see you succeed with your present task. Take a look, instead, at my first play, Jim.
Okay, Jim softly focused on the image. You don't want me to worry for Bones, but I'm worrying.
Jim...
Fine, fine. I see. I...I need to try this, then, for you both. But, I won't see this all bright and shiny on my end in real time, will I?
No, Jim, that is not what the bond will do. I will be able to provide you with images of my own moves, an opposite view of your board.
Okay, okay. Jim sighed. Here goes nothing.
xxx
McCoy shifted in his chair and leaned forward, forearms on his knees as he watched Spock and Jim. A moment passed, a strange moment. Both seemed to flinch at some point and McCoy jolted up from his chair, ready to intervene but then Jim's heart rate began to decrease. McCoy decided to wait instead of interfering. Maybe the bond was working. It was a bit unnerving, knowing those two were conversing with each other through their bond. He never even gave their bond much thought when the three were in the same room together but seeing both of them with their eyes closed lent McCoy experience that was almost firsthand. Although he didn't want anything to do with the Vulcan voodoo himself, Jim was with them mentally, wasn't he?
McCoy couldn't discredit it, not even when Jim opened his eyes, focused vaguely in front of him, and very carefully brought both of his hands down onto the board. With painstaking movement but a slight tremor of his fingers, Jim found his location with one hand on the edge of the board. His other hand hovered over the pieces until he paused and found one of his black pawns. He moved it forward one space, setting it a little cockeyed in the square.
McCoy's jaw dropped.
Jim had made his first move, knocking over only one other piece in the process.
"Dammit," Jim groaned as the knight clattered across the board.
"Pick it up," Spock said softly.
Jim sighed. McCoy frowned, seeing on his PADD that Jim's vitals were again beginning to slip outside of Jim's normal levels. "I'll just knock over another one," Jim complained.
"Pick it up, Jim," Spock repeated. "I will help you."
McCoy didn't know if Spock verbally commanded Jim for his benefit or not, but now pulled directly into the game, McCoy was at the edge of his seat. Jim pressed his mouth thin and closed his eyes for about thirty seconds, but then he did Spock asked.
And knocked another chess piece over just as he had predicted. "Damn." Jim winced. "This is ridiculous."
"Your dexterity will improve. This was your first move, Jim."
"Actually, it was three," Jim grumped, "if you include what I knocked over."
"This will take patience," Spock said.
"That you may have, being Vulcan and all," Jim muttered again. He pulled away from the board and crossed his arms, expression petulant. "But not me, a man who sees gray blobs except for when you can flash me an image."
"Jim, you saw something?" McCoy asked.
"It was..." Jim grew quiet. "A...a snapshot of something Spock put together for me so I know where he moved his pawn. But this, me making a play is like you using tweezers to pick up just one of those tiny-ass ants among millions that we saw on that one infested planet, with your sight intact - impossible."
"I was unaware that James T. Kirk gave up so easily," Spock stared at Jim. "Perhaps it would be best to cease our engagement."
"The hell we're quitting," Jim growled. "You may have taken the first turn of your own accord but you don't get to call all the shots, Mr. Spock,"
He took a deep breath and with as much concentration as McCoy had ever seen on Jim's face, replaced the piece correctly. It took time, nearly a full minute, but this time, his fingers held steady.
"Your turn."
xxx
They'd been at it now for awhile now, slow but intent on the game before them. McCoy never once lost his own focus on Jim's stats - until Jim made his thirteenth move. Jim grinned as he claimed one of Spock's white pieces.
"How do you like them apples?" Jim crowed.
McCoy's grasp slipped on the device.
McCoy was annoyed. They were all annoyed, especially when the 'captain' pulled the apple out of nowhere and took a lazy bite of the red fruit. The crispness of the bite resounded in the room. Was he even paying attention? No, of course he wasn't. Did he care that he looked ridiculous munching on the damn apple in front of his superiors? No, of course he didn't.
Jim called out another order between bites. As the rest unfolded, McCoy couldn't believe what he was seeing. Jim had done it, without a care in the world. Except for caring about his damn apple and not wasting ammunition. And, hell, the kid was going to more annoying than ever now that he beat the Kobayashi Maru.
"It was a reasonable move," Spock said.
"That's it?" Jim asked. "That's all you're going to say?"
Jim threw the core away on his way out, flashing McCoy a signature golden, confident smile. "You don't have to say a word, Bones. It's written all over your face."
McCoy's chest swelled with an uncomfortable, relentless emotion he'd rather not ever feel again. Hadn't he'd already done this? Grieve?
"Jim," McCoy whispered.
"Yeah, Bones?" Jim rubbed his eyes. "Spock, I may need a break soon."
"I just..." McCoy blinked. "I miss..."
The cocky kid with the apple. The one who then grew up, but still never lost his confidence.
Spock arched a brow. "Captain, if you require a moment of respite..."
"Naw. Let's keep going. If we don't, I may forget all of your plays," Jim grinned.
"You...I miss you, Jim."
"Captain, perhaps it would be advantageous to stop if you are feeling strain from this exercise."
"Bones," Jim said. "What do you think?"
"I think..." McCoy stood, hands clenched at his sides. As cliche as it was, he thought he was dying when the hurt gripped him like a vise in his heart. He needed Jim to know. To understand. "I've tried, Jim. Really tried. But, sometimes..."
"Three more moves," Jim said decidedly to Spock. "Then I'll take a break."
"Very well," Spock said. "Continue."
Continue? McCoy ran both hands through his hair. Hell, he'd continue. They weren't even paying attention to him and...maybe it was for the best they weren't listening. Maybe he was being an overworked, overemotional mess. Maybe he'd talk while they were intent on their game - everyone would be happy.
Except...they wouldn't be.
"I miss the old you Jim so much that...that I sometimes have a hard time believing that you're still alive," McCoy said, exhaling slowly as he watched them both. The bond was working, their eyes - and ears - closed.
Jim made his next move, and Spock followed suit.
McCoy went on. "I'm sorry, I know that sounds harsh, Jim. I know it will hurt you to hear me say that, but it hurts worse..."
"This is getting harder," Jim muttered, mouth dipped down in frustration.
It was getting harder. It really, really was. He'd thought with time, with more memories with Jim, it would all go away, but it wasn't. "...when I keep it from you."
"Your plays are satisfactory for your condition," Spock said.
Jim snorted. "You mean they're bad."
"So, I can't keep it from you, not anymore. I'm grieving...because I lost my friend..." McCoy swallowed and began to pace.
"I have a headache," Jim complained after a moment. "And this is taking a long time."
McCoy spun on his heel. He had something to give Jim for that, but he couldn't make himself treat this Jim as he thought of the other.
"You are moping, Jim," Spock said.
"I lost him, for the second time." McCoy's eyes stung. He sniffed, much like Joanna did when they talked and she told him that she missed her daddy. McCoy rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat, looked up at Jim's ceiling and down at the floor...anything to stop his sadness which had now accumulated along with thoughts of his daughter. What would Joanna think of her Uncle Jim? Of all the changes? Would she react like McCoy?
"You took my knight," Jim accused Spock. "Of course I'm moping."
But it was no use. His damn emotions had literally crept and choked him from behind.
"...and I'm never getting him back," he whispered.
xxx
The game went on and the bond burned. It burned between them, its flames swirling until the lines were blurred and Spock's mind at one point fell forward. In his stumble, he lost his grip, his center. Too focused on giving Jim the next image, he thought his stumble was weakness and that it would damage the bond. Weakness would break them. It would put out the fire instead of coaxing it to where it would be safe, damaging them both. Damaging Jim.
He could not allow that to happen.
Spock's eyes clenched tighter and he willed the energy they had gathered to strengthen. He gave all he had, inviting Jim to give more until the energy was thicker than ever. They could control it together.
Be prepared, was all he could manage.
But...you're burning. Jim told him.
Spock felt it. He saw it. He was consuming Jim. Jim was consuming him. He had to focus the fire, put it somewhere before the bond was damaged.
He couldn't do it from across the table.
Do not let go. Allow me through, Jim.
Without waiting even a second after Jim gave him permission, his fingers pressed against Jim's face. It was instant. He saw his chance and sent the energy between them straight through the misfired but healing nerves himself.
And the nerves were relit, firing as they had before any damage had occurred.
xxx
Jim's eyes flew open.
Light had become white, become color, and became everything. Darkness was still absence of light as it had been before but the grays had disappeared and in the place of shadow upon shadow - it was the world as it had been for him before.
Jim sucked in a breath. What had Spock done?
"Spock?" Jim's voice was strange in his ears, crackling and thin, while everything around him was fuller than he ever remembered. It was vibrant, filling his senses right down to the swirl of coffee in the mug on the table left by Bones. "You...I..."
He inhaled through his nose, trying to sync the sounds around him with his sight. His wanted to cover his ears, his eyes, his heart. Everything. This couldn't possibly be real. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. He couldn't hold on to hope that this was anything that would last. It wasn't a miracle. It wasn't anything but a dream.
You are not dreaming, Jim.
But he had to be. It wasn't logical. Jim's eyes darted around the room, his mind dizzy with the color as he searched for his other friend. He blinked again, squinting with effort. The light hit him like the flares on the bridge did when he'd had the worst hangover of any sort, a hangover like the ones he'd had when Pike had still been alive and Jim, stupid. His eyes burned from the sensitivity. Wincing, he held his hand up to his temple, on guard. What the hell had just happened?
"Computer, lights at thirty percent," Spock ordered.
Jim curled his fingers. He rubbed his eyes with great care, mindful of the implants, until the very moment that he found Bones. The doctor's back was to Jim at the table, but Jim recognized that dark hair and that posture and that blue shirt and that green medical bag on the floor. It was distinctly and positively Bones. Dazed, Jim allowed his hands to drop. He gripped the edge of the table and stood. Bones. He could see Bones.
"Is...is this real?" Jim whispered. "Because it can't be."
"Jim, remain calm," Spock said.
Jim blinked and shifted his gaze to the black rook he'd left carelessly on the board. Bones was saying something, his voice sad and distant and loping, but everything that Jim could see hit him at warp speed.
"Jim..." Spock repeated.
Jim picked up the rook, pinching it between two of his fingers. He turned it around, focusing not on the piece but the fine lines of his hand, the hue of his skin, the callouses that weren't as hard as they once were. He'd gone soft since the Re'an mission. He'd gone soft and he'd -
"I miss you."
The broken voice jerked Jim's attention away from his self-inspection and to the broken man in the corner of the room.
"God, Jim, I know it's pathetic, but..." The shoulders dropped painfully and stilled.
"Bones..." Jim whispered.
"I lost ya." McCoy's shoulder shook once.
The sadness he sensed from Bones was familiar. It was familiar, for he heard it almost everyday in his best friend's voice, but Jim was not familiar. He'd gone soft...but...he also had just...gone.
"Jim," Spock interjected. "I know your sight has returned, but beyond that, are you well?"
"Spock?" Jim asked dumbly, eyes wide as he stared at the small insignia on the science officer's blue shirt. "I am and...I think...I think it's time for that break."
xxx
McCoy couldn't stop. It wasn't logical, but whoever said grief was? It came and went whenever it pleased. But it wasn't anything but the most ridiculous thing he'd ever done - and he just couldn't stop.
If he'd been able to hide himself even more in the corner of Jim's quarters, he would have but it was no use. He'd have to call it a day and ask for Christine to watch Jim's vitals. He'd take himself off rotation until he could pull himself together and actually be of use to someone.
The emotion that had pooled in his eyes welled up in his chest. Like an idiot, he - and his shoulders - quaked under the pressure.
"Goddammit," McCoy choked out. He rolled his hands into fists and weakly pounded the wall, as frustrated as he was grieved. "Why did you have to do everything right this time, Jim? Why did you have to save...save..."
He covered his eyes with his hand. God, he was selfish. Ironically, his damn captain had become unselfish and McCoy had inherited the former trait of Jim's directly.
"I...I don't really know," Jim said from behind him. "I'll blame it on the vegetables you make me eat."
McCoy shook his head. "Because you've been growing up, before my very eyes."
"Took long enough, huh?"
His fingers coated with the wetness spilling beneath them, McCoy cleared the thick emotion from his throat. "It's not that I'm not proud of you, because I am. I am but..."
A hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle but familiar hand.
McCoy bent under the weight, leaning towards the person he only half-realized was behind him.
"I lost ya," McCoy said, voice wobbling. "I didn't want to have to lose you ever again, Jim. We have risks out here. I know that, but, Jim...I lost you once already. You were rolled in dead...to my sickbay."
"I know, Bones."
"And then...the...Re'an...they stripped you of yourself...completely."
"I know that, too."
"I can't stop grieving. Christine tells me that I need to talk with you about it. Spock, too, and maybe they're both right, but...how do you tell your best friend you miss him, when he's still here?"
McCoy rubbed the watery mess that was his eyes.
"You just tell him," Jim said.
"But, he's sensitive. He's...he's not the same."
"I know he's a little on the sensitive side, but he can handle this." Jim's voice soothed him, this time from in front of him. "And if it helps you, you need to tell him whatever you want. He's not leaving. He's right here for you, just like you've been there for him all this time."
"But it's not fair to him."
"He understands, Bones."
A hand touched McCoy's other shoulder, somewhat breaking through. Feeling as if the world around him was surreal, McCoy managed a weak reply and left it at that. "Jim?"
"Yeah, Bones. Why don't I help you to my couch?"
Limbs weary and heart heavy and head hanging in his fatigue, McCoy allowed himself to be guided. After several shuffles, McCoy became more confused when he realized that Jim had not let go of either of his shoulders.
"Wait," he ordered. "You can't lead me. You'll get hurt. You'll..."
"Bones."
McCoy shook his head. He really should be ashamed of himself. "No, I...I kinda lost it there, but no more. I'll find my own way."
"Bones, it's okay."
He tried shrugging him off but Jim held fast. McCoy sighed, head still down, and saw the couch beside him. "Get back to your game, kid."
"Bones."
"Don't be so stubborn." McCoy sank to the couch. His head dropped, hanging lower between his shoulders now that he'd evaded Jim's touch. He just needed a moment by himself. One more - and then he'd be alright. "I only need a little time to sit, Jim. I'll be fine. If I'm not, I'll leave...and send Christine. Alright?"
"Bones, you don't need to leave." Hands cupped either side of McCoy's face and gently brought it up for the first time in ten minutes. "Look at me."
"I can't," he hoarsely whispered, eyes averted. "I'm not being fair to you. I can't right now, Jim."
"Is it because...the old me is gone?"
"I miss him."
"It's okay to feel that way, and I'm glad you told me," Jim said softly. "You have to take care of yourself, Bones, because...you haven't been. You've held this in for far too long. You need to take care of yourself, and you may feel better about doing that now. It's over, Bones."
McCoy's brow furrowed. The game? "I must be really out of it, if it's over already."
"No, I mean..." Jim paused, crouched still, in front of McCoy. "Will you look at me? Please? I need to tell you something."
"I can't, Jim."
"Sure you can," Jim urged, hands again on McCoy's face. "How else am I to know if I have something like chocolate cake on my face? You know how much I like chocolate. You know how much I like to eat of it, too. Lots of chocolate. Lots. Numbered like the pies. I like things in threes."
Threes? Chocolate cake?
Worried that Jim had broken his diet beyond the pies Chris had made him, he finally looked up but saw no chocolate smeared on Jim's lopsided grin or on his teeth - or anywhere else for that matter. "What the hell are you talking about? You had no cake."
Jim dropped his hands and shrugged. "You wouldn't listen and look at me."
"I wouldn't..." McCoy narrowed his eyes. Something was different about Jim. Something was different about Spock, too, who'd come up behind Jim with a smile on his face. A damn miniature Vulcan smile and maybe McCoy had imagined it, but it had been there. Something was...
Jim hopped to his feet. He stretched out his hand to McCoy, grin widening. "Let me give you a hand off of my couch, Bones."
Before he took his hand, something in Jim's voice caused McCoy to peer straight into the brilliant baby blues of his best friend, the ones which stared back, direct and precise for the first time in months. And then he did one better...
"Jim...you can..."
"Yeah, Bones." Jim beamed. "I can."
"How...?"
His relief and other words jumbled and unintelligible through his tears, McCoy wrapped his arms around Jim before he could reply. McCoy crushed his best friend into an embrace, holding Jim's head firmly against his shoulder. He vowed that whether it was with this Jim or the old Jim or a new one altogether, their friendship would never be the same again.
"Spock," Jim said softly by his ear. "It was Spock."
Simply put, they were stronger when together...as three.
Author's Note: Well, not sure why, but I'm literally shaking as I update. So much I could say here, but I think I'll leave it with this - I need some lovin' after this one. LOL! This post was the most nerve-wracking of any, exciting but leaving me terrified because of all the work I've done leading up to these things and wanting YOU to enjoy these moments as I have planned them. I've had that chess scene on my mind from the beginning, wanting it to be more poignant than anything else and focused not only on Jim's sight being returned but friendship. This friendship and love shared between Jim/Bones/and Spock and the symbolism of the game of chess between friends. And Winona? The intrigue? We still have three more chapters left to explore the mystery and also tie up a few more details! Since Spock has yet to inform Jim of his mother, and Jim has yet to even talk with his mother and hear things for himself, the next few chapters will carry some surprises. Many thanks to Rubyhair for beta reading and being a creative consultant - it really is a pleasure to work with her! I'm on Tumblr now, sometimes posting things related to the story as well as my other works. The link is in my profile! Thank you all for reading!