Bureaucracy moves about as fast as Neptune circling the sun while the rest of the universe has discovered warp speed, so it isn't surprising when there's no fallout from McCoy's report the following morning. It's just a little disappointing. He'd hope it would have come through by now. Chief Medical officer is an important position to fill, especially for a five year mission. It can't just be any medical school graduate in Starfleet. Starfleet will have to send someone out toYorktown and Jim will have to approve them.
Leonard wanted today to be an apparent goodbye meeting. Spock could come in, say whatever is on his blasted Vulcan mind and Leonard could offer some half felt farewell and then rest contently with the knowledge that it's one ghost he can put to bed. Pretending life is going to go back to the way it was before, is exhausting.
Jim will be the first sign that Leonard's officially put out to pasture. The captain will unleash a cosmic storm of denial, outrage with a vortex of saviour complex swirled in. He'll burst into medical to tear McCoy a new one while alternating with needy desperate codependency they've developed between the many life threatening situations they find themselves in. Nothing in the universe will be able to hold Kirk back once that file hits his desk. Jim won't take this lying down. He will gear himself up for a fight like Leonard's some damsel in distress, of which Leonard will have to sabotage until the kid gets it through his damn skull that Leonard isn't useful any more. Leonard almost feels sorry for the poor son of a bitch that has to replace him- almost.
Starfleet will offer some feeble "sorry to lose you," memo after a half hearted attempt to convince him they can work around this. In the end Starfleet doesn't really have a use for damaged goods.
Three days since he sent the report and the ax still hasn't dropped on his career and Leonard's growing suspicious. He fears maybe the whole thing has been another hallucination; Jim never asked for the report and he never wrote it. The thought starts a tailspin that sends him careening down the rabbit hole. He prays it hasn't been lost in a pile of reports on some secretary's desk filled under 'will get to in a minute.'
Time moves incredibly slow when waiting for confirmation that you have nothing to look forward to for the rest of your life.
The view from his room is starting to get boring. The caged feeling isn't quelling his need to run away either. As grateful as Leonard is to be out of the other universe, alive, and back in his own, it isn't truly home until he's in his quarters back on Enterprise. He sure as hell isn't going to let Jim know he thinks of that flying tin can as home though. A sense of dread sparks in the back of his brain. He's put the kibosh on that- the Enterprise will never be his home again. Technically, he's homeless now, and jobless. When he loses it all, he really loses it all. He's itching to get out of here but has nowhere to get to.
The more analytical part of his brain whispers it's not his desire to escape medbay that wants him to run, rather the company in the room with him now. He knows that this Spock would never hurt him, and that the monster from his nightmares is another being completely, but he can't stop the tremor in his hands every time he looks at Spock. He knows Spock's noticed it too; nothing escapes those sharp Vulcan senses. The full blown panic attack accompanied by the screaming the first time Spock stepped into Leonard's hospital room was a dead giveaway that things can't just be swept under the rug.
If he has to white knuckle it around the first officer, Leonard can tough it out. He's not going to let that pointed eared elf from the other universe steal the life McCoy desperately wanted back. If he can survive that world he can tread the murky waters here until he can get his feet underneath him and not panic when Spock steps into a room. He will be able to look at Chekov without guilt and quit rubbing his finger when he's around Sulu. The phantom pain across his chest will cease if he just keeps watching Chapel's gentle touches as she works to repair the scarred tissue covering his body. He'll stop waiting for Jim to pull off the mask of his best friend and reveal the massacring lunatic he read about back there. Leonard clings to these ideas with everything he has because, damn it he's a doctor and he can't do his job if he's twitching in a corner. He brought Kirk back from the dead and dragged Spock's wounded ass across a planet, he's got this. Because giving it all up, letting the Enterprise leave without him and resigning his medical license- he's doing it because it's his choice. He's not making it out of fear. He will send his friends off on their next mission feeling good about him, even if it's the greatest lie he'll ever tell. It they believe he's fine, they won't fight to take him with them if he doesn't want to go.
"How'd you figure it out?" asks McCoy, straining to keep his voice as level and smooth as possible. He doesn't know if Jim's noticed the tremor today; he can't take his eyes off of Spock who is aware enough to keep his distance from the doctor whenever possible.
Leonard was certain he wasn't coming back and yet here he is. It certainly wasn't because of any sense of sympathy from anyone over there. Frankly, he's a little surprised anyone noticed he was missing in time to figure out what happened, let alone get there and save him. He's a little curious as to how the pieces all fell in place. It seems like safe conversation territory.
Kirk nods towards Spock who's lurking near the door instead of standing next to McCoy's bed. "Spock found the security footage that the other Spock thought he destroyed."
"It was an error that allowed us to track his movements to the transporter he used to beam you both back to his universe," elaborates Spock with as much warmth as a Vulcan can convey. He lacks Uhura's ability to provide reassurance and care with gentle words and touches but he recognizes his usual approach will not smooth McCoy's edges as of yet.
McCoy looks suspiciously at Spock. "Are ya sayin you made a mistake?" He'll have to file that gold nugget away if there's ever a day when he can joke and poke at the Vulcan with the ease they used to share.
"It was not I that made the miscalculation," corrects Spock, because the distinction needs to be made, then adds, "and it does seem unlikely that such an error was simply an oversight, given the precision and calculations that would have been required to attempt such an undertaking."
Kirk sits a little straighter. He hadn't given it much thought then, only assumed that they had gotten lucky. Honestly, he hasn't had time or desire to think about anything other than what it felt like to hear McCoy was missing. "He didn't think we'd be able to figure out how to rescue Bones, so it wouldn't matter if we knew what happened?" hazards Jim.
"On the contrary, Captain. Given that the other universe had counterpart versions of all of us, he would have had sufficient data to calculate the odds of us figuring out the technology."
"He wanted us to find them?" asks Jim, because that seems like a tactical error and Spock doesn't make tactical errors like that.
"It seems the most likely outcome."
It doesn't make any of them feel better about the situation. Somehow, a shard of possible kindness that Spock would let McCoy return home seems unlikely.
Whatever the larger plan might have been, it doesn't matter now. They can just be thankful for small mistakes and that that Spock is a whole universe away with a severally pissed off Kirk on his ass. Kirk looks at McCoy gratefully, though the doctor is unusually quiet. "Well whatever happened, you're home now, Bones."
McCoy's eyes drift over to the windowsill on the other side of the room where an over confident and smug Kirk beams back at him. "Are you home, Bones?"
Leonard's gut clenches. He thought the voices would stop when they dialled back the drugs but like the nightmares, the revenant seems to want to hang in there. He ignores the hallucination and looks back at Jim- his Jim. With a forced smile he agrees, "Yeah, home."
The other Jim just rolls his eyes like he can't believe Leonard can be this stupid.
Leonard silently reminds himself he performed a medical scan on himself which verified what he's been told so far. It's the only truth he can hold on to. If he looks for ulterior motives and tricks in everything, he's going to go mad- madder. Obviously hallucinating people isn't something sane people do.
"Doctor," says Spock, causing McCoy to flinch. "Did my counterpart convey any other plans beyond the exchange?"
"Yeah Bones," pipes in Kirk from by the window. "Why don't you tell them about his plans to make you scream? Tell them about how he wanted to cut into you. Tell them about how he..."
"He just wanted to kill Kirk," snaps Leonard to drown out Kirk. He just needs his brain to shut up. "Save Uhura, burn the world, kill Kirk and I."
The room goes silent and cold as Leonard starts to pick at the edge of his blanket. Jim can't help but feel awkward and out of sorts. He has a hard time thinking about Leonard bleeding out on that planet, he can't imagine it if Leonard died or worse, if Spock had had the pleasure of doing it slowly.
"And you never met your counterpart?" presses Spock, the image of McCoy looking at himself on the bridge of the alternate Enterprise spurring him on.
Leonard can't suppress the shudder that runs through him. As bad as everyone else was in that universe, he was no better- maybe even worse. Power and vengeance pushed everyone else to great atrocities and finding pleasure in the sadistic but Leonard McCoy had a taste for fear and pain and nothing else.
The imaginary Kirk, who as it turns out is just as stubborn as the real thing, raises a glass of scotch with a solemn look on his face. "A great tragedy. The universe lost one of its best," he toasts, before tossing back the drink.
Leonard shakes his head quickly. "He was already dead," he says morosely. There's a certain feeling of pleasure at knowing he can't hurt anymore people over there. The monster is dead; sent back to hell along with a few of his friends. The more pleasure Leonard takes in this thought, the more it burns at his soul. He shouldn't find gratification in the death or suffering of anyone, yet here he is delighting in his counterpart's demise. They're clearly more alike than Leonard is comfortable with.
"That was the problem. Pike killed me- him, before Spock could use him to get Uhura back. If he was still alive, Spock wouldn't have needed me," adds Leonard. He focuses on Jim, both because it's easier to watch Jim than look at Spock and it's hard not to notice the way Jim tenses at the mention of his former mentor Pike.
Leonard lets out a long breath. He doesn't know why Spock wants to know any of this. Is it some Vulcan social experiment Spock's trying to conduct on the shape of humanity? The thought that this might be some science project for the Vulcan really pisses Leonard off. This is his life and he's tired of being poke and prodded and interrogated to satisfy other people's curiosity and ease their guilt. "He's dead, Chekov's dead, Sulu's dead, Pike's dead and if either one of you bastards has your way, you're probably both dead now too," snarls Leonard. "Ya want the play by play, it's all in my report. But here's some highlights to satisfy y'all's curiosity: murder, torture and when you weren't doin it, Sulu was cutting inta me. So I guess the moral of the story is us highly emotional humans are nothing but animals!"
The words are physical blows, each coming faster and harder as McCoy really gets going. Jim's used to it lately but it still hurts. Even Spock looks like he doesn't know how to counter the assault. "Bones," says Jim, trying to halt the doctor's tirade. It doesn't do Leonard any good to get this worked up and this emotional ass kicking isn't doing him and Spock any good either. Jim will take it, it's his penance for not protecting Leonard in the first place, but he has to try and protect the rest of the crew as much as possible too, even from Leonard.
Leonard's jaw licks shuts at Jim's warning. They want him to talk about it and when he does they don't want to hear it; which is fine because he doesn't really want to talk about it in the first place but the pestering and questions to do so are really starting to grate on him. He tried to play nice and isn't it just like Spock to poke and poke until he elicits that emotional human response he so condemns.
Jim dies a little inside. He'd dared to hope they were turning a corner and now he's sitting in the fallout of the electricity of hope. The emotional rollercoaster Leonard's been stuck on and putting Jim through is both nauseating and terrifying. Leonard just sits there, his arms folded over his chest and scowling like a child asked to eat their vegetables. Jim turns slightly towards Spock and says, "Maybe that's enough for today." It sounds like he's whispering in the vacuum created by Leonard's shouting.
"Perhaps you are correct," concedes Spock, bowing his head slightly. "Captain, Doctor," he says in salutation before taking his leave, with no greater insight than that which he walked in with.
The relief that pours over Leonard with every step Spock takes away from medical is euphoric. He can practically feel the knots in his gut slither loose to the steady rhythm of retreating footsteps. It's like he can breathe again or for the first time. With any luck, that was the last time he's ever going to feel like a child trapped in a cage with a sehlat that hasn't been fed.
It's just him and Jim now, like always. It was probably too much to hope for that Spock would take Jim with him since the captain seems stuck to that chair like he was to his chair on the bridge of the Enterprise.
The silence drags on. All the training and practical experience Jim's amassed to be the Captain of the Enterprise and none of it tells him how he's supposed to breach this silence. It just hangs heavy and foul in the air filling with the stench of everything that should be said and the weight of the things that cannot find voice.
Leonard's running out of time to be the one to break the news to Jim. He's torn between doing it personally as a kindness based on their friendship and letting Starfleet be the one to plunge the knife into Jim. He's not sure which is crueller when the end result is the same. There's a certain cold calculation in letting Starfleet be the one to shatter Jim's world and yet something vindictively satisfying about doing it himself. Either option raises some serious questions about his moral compass these days.
Leonard can do silence; he has no place to be. Jim on the other hand thrives on activity and tends to fidget like a boy waiting be excused from the dinner table so he can go outside and play when locked in an uncomfortable stalemate- or hiding something.
"You're sittin there like you forgot to do the reading assignment, Jim," says Leonard, both scolding and curious. He's been doing enough lying for the whole ship, yet Jim's ass has pretty much been planted in sickbay next to him so he shouldn't have any done anything worth hiding. Leonard's tired of being blindsided all the time. If Jim's got another boot to drop, he might as well do it now. Today is a wash anyways.
"I know." Kirk looks solemn and somewhat irritated. His hand twitches over the stack of PADDs he has stacked on the side table. They're mostly reports he either has to read or ones he's long overdue in writing since he spends most of his time here rather than his office but the top one is different.
The declaration turns Leonard cold. He's so consumed with secrets and the constant fear of being exposed or outed before he's ready, he's not sure which one Jim's worked out. "You know?" asks McCoy getting an uneasy feeling.
"I had a feeling you were going to do something you'd regret after we talked that night." By talked he means fought because that's mostly what they've been doing lately. "I read it, and I changed it," confesses Jim and it feels good to confess his sin. He has to put it out there that he has Leonard's best interests at heart, that he's not like that other Kirk.
"You what?" Leonard's brain short circuits. He couldn't have heard that right. Jim's done some stupid things before but the ramifications to this treachery threaten to turn Leonard in to a ball on the floor.
"I changed the report," Jim says calmly, like it's an everyday occurrence to hack into Starfleet files and rewrite them to suit his needs. If that report doesn't get McCoy discharged completely from Starfleet, it certainly indicates that he won't serve with Spock. Jim can't choose between the two of them and if Starfleet has to, then they're going to transfer the Chief Medical Officer before they transfer the First Officer. This family has to stay together.
Leonard folds his arms across his chest and tenses up like a cobra ready to strike. "Cause that worked out so well for you last time Jim. Do you never learn?" Fool kid almost got expelled from Starfleet for tampering with things and almost lost his captaincy last time he took liberties with a report. They'll drum his ass right out of Starfleet if this ever gets out. And it will if Leonard doesn't go along with it or shows signs as being anything other than fit for duty. It's too much pressure and he's already under so much. People like Jim turn to diamonds under that kind of pressure; deep down, Leonard knows it will just turn him to dust. He's not made of the same stuff.
"Yes! And I know what happens when we break this team up and that's worse." Jim's seen what happens when they're split up, either by choice or forced apart. He'll do whatever it takes to keep this group of people together. Whatever. "And it's not like you're hands are clean in all of this," counters Jim because if they're going to trade barbs, he's got a few of his own.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim's got some nerve. Whether the kid can see it or not, Leonard's doing this for him, he's doing it for all of them. Jim's just being his usual selfish self.
Jim's eyes burn with accusation. "You used your authority as CMO of the Enterprise to access M'Benga's medical evaluation of you to support your discharge." He's got to give Leonard credit, he was thorough and definitely made Jim work for it. The fact that McCoy tampered with official reports kinds of scares Jim but that's something he'll examine later; Leonard's trust worth because he doesn't misuse his authority like this.
If Leonard wasn't drowning before, he is now- dragged out into the middle of an ocean with a shuttle craft chained to his ankle and tossed in the deep. Jim's met his every move with an equally calculated one of his own. "You know it would be nice if you grew up one day and took responsibility for yourself. How could you do this to me Jim?"
Jim wants to bang his head against the nearest bulkhead. McCoy's being particularly dense today but Jim's willing to hammer this nail as long as it takes. "Do it to you? I did it for you Bones. It's the only way they'll let you back aboard."
"Thanks for putting that on me. Now I have to up hold the lie so it doesn't get out that you falsified another report and lose your ship! Did you ever stop to consider that maybe I can't function as CMO right now or maybe ever? That you just put the crew at risk?"
Clearly Leonard's wrecked over everything that happened in the other universe because Jim can't imagine a scenario in which Leonard would put the crew at risk. As far as Jim's career being on the line, it's the least he can do for Leonard, but all of his being is screaming that Leonard needs to be a part of the crew, even if he can't see it himself. "You wanna hit me Bones? Go ahead. I won't even hit back."
Leonard relents. "I'm not going to break your nose Jim." Tempting as it might be.
"Wow, that was specific." Maybe Jim's misjudged just how much anger and turmoil has taken residence within McCoy. "And you could have fooled me cause you've been taking shots at me all day."
"And how would me hitting you make me feel better? I'm not going to punish you so you can feel better. Contrary to popular belief, not everything is about James T Kirk."
No, it's not. This is about Leonard and Jim's willing to fight even if Leonard is not. "Maybe you should have made it about writing a report that Starfleet would accept, something by an officer looking to get back to his post. I mean what the hell is this, Bones?" He throws the PADD in Leonard's lap to emphasise his point.
"My official report," snarls McCoy. He doesn't need to read it. The words are seared into his brain- all the truths, the lies to cover all the things he can't bear his friends ever finding out, are all there in pretty font and formatting.
"Bullshit," snaps Jim, jumping to his feet. He paces back and forth like an animal working on its escape so it can murder the zoo caretakers that put it in the cage.
Leonard just sits there and stares Jim down. He's the one that's been wronged and Jim's acting like Leonard just screwed him over. No wonder he hasn't heard anything from Starfleet yet. "Those are the facts."
"No they're not," insists Jim. Leonard's got another thing coming if he thinks Jim is going to play his game. He's not going to let the doctor throw way everything he sacrificed and worked for. He may not know everything that happened over there, but he knows Leonard, and he knows when Leonard's lying or hiding something.
"Sure it is." Leonard's not going to get in to it with Jim. He'll bury these secrets before he lets them infect the crew.
"Don't bullshit me, Bones. I deserve better than that."
Jim's right. They've been through a lot, but he just... can't. "I'm sure you do, but right now it's all I got."
"Do better," demands Jim, in a pleading achy sort of way. All Leonard has to do is take Jim's hand and he'll pull the doctor up from the cliffs of terror but he won't take Jim's hand.
"I can't," Leonard sighs, and it's so broken, like his confession has just damned the universe.
"Try, damn it."
"Don't you think I am?" Leonard would love nothing more than to be alright but it's not a matter of choice. This is a battle he's never going to win and just trying to stay in the fight is burning away what's left of his soul.
Kirk calms down a bit. It isn't pigheaded stubbornness pitting Leonard against Jim's efforts. He hasn't seen someone that broken since he stopped seeing it in the mirror once he found Starfleet. "I don't know how o fix this," confesses Jim.
"You can't fix everything, Jim. I close my eyes and I'm right back there, and believe me Jim, it's not a place you want to be. I ... I look at Chekov and I just wait to see the blood flow from his neck and the light to fade from his eyes and you don't need to know that Jim. No one should."
Jim can feel the weight that's pulling on Leonard. It's written in every line of his body. Leonard's reports have been straight to the point, clinical in their approach. Jim knows there's more behind the few words that make it to the PADD; most are lost to the desperate and needy ache that fills his experience. Right here and now, Jim can clearly see Leonard is covering for something or someone. "I already know."
Fear and panic come alive in McCoy. He's been so careful to protect Jim from knowing what kind of monster he was over there. It's bad enough he's covered with the scars of what those people are like, it shouldn't bleed over onto people who are actual pillars good in the universe. Leonard hasn't even tried to look at himself in the mirror, for fear of what he'll see, the same way he has a hard time looking anyone in the eye anymore. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially his friends. Personally want to pretend it didn't happen just so he can look at these people in the eye again. If people know everything, he's no longer afforded the luxury of pretending and the monsters will live in the shadows of everyone.
"We found the data file with your report and the ... messages. I don't know everything but the messages told me enough," explains Jim. He's been wrestling with the whether or not to tell Leonard that they watched his heartfelt plea to take care of Joanna. It feels like a trespass of some sort,, like Jim opened his present before Christmas and now the magic is ruined. The message was conditional upon Leonard's demise and watching it when he's still alive feels like an invasion of his privacy.
Jim's revelation isn't as bad as Leonard imagined. It's not pretty but it's not a complete exposure of his secrets. This is a new kind of knife in the wound. In all the horror, he'd forgotten about the recordings. He doesn't regret anything in them but he also didn't think he would have to look Jim in the eye after he saw them. The rawness of them threatens his efforts to protect those he cares about from the atrocities he endured. Defeated he asks, "What do you want to hear Jim?"
"Everything," says Jim simply. He'll take any crumb Leonard wants to share as long as he opens up. He doesn't have to carry this alone. "Anything. Don't shut us out, please don't shut me out."
"I can't Jim." What little color Leonard's gotten back in the last couple of days, drains away completely. If Jim saw the files, who knows how far they've travelled and who has laid eyes on them. One was addressed to his daughter for god sake. "Oh god, Joanna didn't see..." He'll die if his little girl saw that vid and he's here alive. His number one rule is to never worry Joanna or let on the possible dangers of his job. That goodbye message violates that rule in a major and irreparable way.
"No," insists Jim. He's well aware of the shelter Joanna at all costs directive Leonard has laid forth. His gut turns a little though. "Just me. And... Spock, Uhura and the senior staff at most."
"Well why don't you just damn well sell tickets!" Leonard throws the PADD past Jim's head. Both flinch as it smacks into the wall with a jarring thud. He's trying so hard and Jim's just making it harder. No wonder everyone looks at him like a wounded bird that will never fly again. The tension is building in his chest, just behind that phantom pain from the agonizer that's flaring up too. He can't get enough air no matter how hard he tries to gulp it in.
That pity in people's eyes is suddenly very specific now. It will lurk there in every interaction he has with people. They know exactly what he did and endured and by whom. It's no longer an ambiguous idea he can lie to them about. It's real and undeniable and all Leonard wants to do is run away from what happened and Jim's made that impossible too.
"I'm not you're god damn pet project," snarls Leonard.
"It's not like that," Jim insists. Leonard's twisting everything in his head. Uhura was just doing her job. And Leonard made the files, did he really think they wouldn't look? Jim knows all about having to look someone in the eye after you've said what you believe was your last goodbye. He's made more than a few himself and can remember the raw intimacy of baring ones soul when you have nothing to lose and the certainty that you won't see the fallout. Being thereafter, changes things, but only for the better once the weird awkwardness has dissipated. It's certainly not as bad as Leonard's making it sound.
"I don't need the mighty Jim Kirk to save me!" Leonard snarls, because he can only take so much and they're so far over that line now he can't even see it anymore.
"You're not doing it," counters the captain. "All you've done is sabotage yourself every chance you get. And when you finally realize that isn't what you want, it's going to be too late to do anything about it, so yes you need someone to save your stubborn ass."
"Don't act like you're doing this for me, Jim. This is nothing more than a selfish little kid who doesn't want his friends to go home yet. Because as long as you're good then everyone else must be good too. Ever think that maybe people are better off away from you?" The words leave a bitter taste in Leonard's mouth but they're out there now, even if they are knives he never intended to throw.
Maybe Leonard did learn a thing or two over there, because he's going for all the soft spots Jim has. His hands coil into tight fists and he has to clamp down tightly on the urge to let them fly. He tore up bars in his younger days for a lot less. "Fine," he huffs with finality. "You wanna be alone, Doctor McCoy? No problem."
Jim turns sharply on his heels and marches out of the room with as much dignity as he can force. The tears burn the corners of his eyes but they're held securely in place by anger. The brace isn't going to take too kindly to a starship captain getting into a brawl at a local bar so he can't go looking for a fight but he will go looking for a bottle. Whatever happens after that, well, whatever will be will be.
