Life on the Enterprise returns to normal, or nearly. Starfleet wants them to have time to heal, so it is quiet, for once. Pavel is the first to return to duty, followed by Spock. Fial leaves the Enterprise after two weeks of convalescence. She won't return. After Fial's departure, Uhura is left alone to walk herself in circles in the infirmary. It is maddening. The doctor gave his permission for her to go out for a few hours every day, to build back her strength, but as days go by, she finds herself more and more reluctant to do so. It's quiet here, and she needs all the reassurance she can get after Cykax.
It's still maddening.
She doesn't see much of her companions in misfortune the first days. She doesn't blame them for wanting to stay out of the infirmary. They want some semblance of normality. She wants that, too, but McCoy, the mother hen he is, refuses to discharge her completely until she's back above fifty kilos. Every gram she gains is a step towards this goal, but she still has difficulty keeping food in her stomach.
So, while she waits for her discharge and waits for the next meal in dread, Uhura tries to keep busy. Her recovery allows her the unusual luxury of diving back into her favorite novels. When they left for their five-year mission, she had dedicated most of her allowed baggage to old paper books. She had inherited a magnificent library from her grandmother and a taste for hardcovers. She could not devote as much time as she would like to reading, but today she could. Alas, Wangrin and Anna Karenina seem to have lost most of their flavor. She puts them away. She could work on some translations, which McCoy agreed on, but her department had sent nothing urgent or related to current affairs, because she's supposed to be resting. Working helps, but it is not very fulfilling work, and she still has long waking hours to fill.
It explains why she becomes closer to Jim, the only other long-term occupant of the infirmary. They share the same hatred of psychologists and physical therapy, so they talk, sitting cross-legged on one or the other's bed. Jim assists her in her translations, claiming his Klingon is rusty, which is false. He impresses her a little, and between two discussions about the Klingon's use of prefixes, they chat.
They mostly talk about unimportant things.
Sometimes Uhura wants to scream at Jim, to beg him to open up to others and stop pretending everything is fine. She doesn't, because he always looks ready to close up and let no one get close to him, ever. So she pretends everything is fine, just like he does.
Maybe she's even relieved to pretend for a few hours everything will go back to normal once they leave the infirmary. Uhura pretends she does not weigh every word she says, and she doesn't need to force herself to swallow each mouthful presented to her. In exchange, Jim pretends he doesn't compulsively need to monitor both of their eating, calculating every calorie. They barely look at each other and never touch each other. The most personal conversation they had in the first week of their hospitalization was about which courses they took at the Academy.
They've been here for ten days when something changes with no warning. Uhura's reading on her hospital bed, trying to fight the nausea that makes the idea of throwing her breakfast quite attractive when Jim sits cross-legged on the other end of her bed. At first, he watches her read in silence while Uhura tries to focus on every word rather than on her sick stomach. When Jim leans forward, she shows him the title.
"Pride and Prejudice," he smiles. "A timeless masterpiece!"
Over her book, Uhura gives him a surprised look.
"Jane Austen?"
"Uhura, if you dare to denigrate Jane's talent..." he responds with an outraged grimace. "Let me tell you, I'll throw you out of the hatch."
"Don't worry, I like it. I just didn't see you as a Jane Austen fan."
"You should be more attentive, then. When I was a teenager, I saw myself as an Elizabeth Bennet. Try to imagine me in a virginal white dress and a little lace cap on my head. Don't tell me the resemblance isn't uncanny."
Uhura tries to muffle the sounds of her giggle in her book. She fails. Jim stays serious as a Vulcan.
"Of course, you're more of a Jane Bennet, deadly serious and pretty and all of that, but deep down you care and you're a romantic. Bones is Mrs. Bennet, always scolding us. As for Mr. Darcy, tall, dark-haired..."
Their eyes meet, both of them daring the other not to laugh. Uhura gives in first and bursts out laughing. Jim can't help but imitate her. After long minutes of giggling and trying to avoid looking Jim in the face, Uhura realizes it's the first time she laughed since Cykax. Her stomach twists at this thought. The nausea comes back. She's suffocating.
"Hey. Uhura. Breathe. Everything is fine. You just need to breathe. Inspire. Expire. Deep breaths."
The voices seem to come from terribly far away. It takes a superhuman effort, but Uhura manages to utter a few words between her sobs. She didn't even realize she was crying.
"I don't know how..."
"It's not that difficult. You've done it so far."
Jim's kindness and his poor attempt at humor make her smile and calm her.
"You see? Breathing all on your own, like a boss."
How does he do it? Uhura wants to know. She needs to know what helps him to hold on even after everything that happened to him, what stops him from letting go. How can a man stop to help someone else when he shouldn't even be able to stand? How can a man stand in the center of an emotional quagmire twice and emerge with his sanity intact?
She doesn't ask. She might get an answer and she wouldn't come out unscathed. Besides, she's not sure it would help Jim to talk about it with her. Dozens of therapists have already tried. Maybe it helped him. But she fears the slightest allusion to what happened would definitely break him. She can't do that to a friend.
Like he doesn't know what she's thinking about, Jim continues to speak with a soft voice, one hand brushing against Uhura.
"It's okay to cry. It's okay to laugh too. Don't be ashamed of it. It's pointless to feel guilty. Don't refuse to live and move forward because others haven't had your chance. Don't add your name to that list."
There had been suicides among Tarsus IV's survivors. Jim gave them the numbers. Uhura already forgot the details. He's not one of them. That's the only thing that matters.
For a long time, she lost herself in her thoughts. Jim lets her. He stays quietly near her, looking at their hand resting on the abandoned book. He smiles, but it's a lifeless smile. Uhura hates seeing it. She had never seen Jim so hurt. It's selfish, but she needs it not to be hurt right now. She needs him to be okay, to make her laugh, to comfort her, to make fun of her, to be himself, to not lie. She needs him to be a big brother to Chekov, to be a friend to Spock who's no better than either of them. It's selfish to ask that of anyone, but she can't help it.
Nausea returns worse than before. Uhura has only seconds to run off to vomit. When she returns to her bed, Jim is tapping on her padd. Out of habit, she frowns and reaches to take it back before he can write something stupid on it. Jim gives it back to her complaining. The screen displays the cover of a book.
"Mandatory reading list," Jim says with his captain's voice. "Novels, historical analyzes, specialized books... All about cooking."
The word alone makes Uhura regret she already emptying her stomach. She hates tasting bile all the time.
"I won't lie. The first book is going to be a pain in the ass to read," Jim says. "But reading about venison's smell and the sound of frying meat helps the appetite return. At least it worked for me. But you need to finish your book first. Jane Austen is sacred. What scene are you reading?"
Uhura can't stop smiling now. She sits back on her bed and Jim slides closer to her. Shoulder to shoulder, they read the description of an 18th-century ball, waiting for each other to turn the pages. After that, things don't go back to normal. It would take a lot more for normalcy to reinstall its right on the Enterprise. However, their friendship becomes natural again and is no longer forced.
Jim's advice works for her, much to Uhura's surprise. It still takes another week before she's able to eat the three daily meals prescribed by the doctor. Being able to leave the infirmary at last fills her with joy, but Jim seems even happier than her. He looks like a heavy weight just left his shoulders.
"I envy you," he says. "I dream of leaving this place of abuse."
"I'd be less happy if I had a promotion," she confesses.
She couldn't be more sincere. It's difficult to be cooped in a spaceship, but being confined to a sickbay is so much worse. People could become mad here. One last glance to make sure she has forgotten no book, report, or personal belongings behind, she rushes out of the door as fast as she can. Jim's laughter follows her. At the door, McCoy stops her to take her in his arms.
"Don't do too much right away. I know you'll want to, but be nice to yourself. You deserve a break, you hear me? Just finish healing."
He releases her, pats her arm in support, and gently pushes her toward the door. She let go of her questions and smiled at him. She's suddenly nervous.
"Commander Spock is waiting for you on the bridge tomorrow morning. We'll all be glad to see you resume your post, lieutenant," Jim adds in his serious captain's voice, leaning on the door frame. "Until then, you will not set foot there, unless you want to be escorted back to your quarters. Did I make myself clear?"
She nods. Satisfied, Jim gives her another of these radiant smiles that more or less hide his pain from the world, waves at her, and takes a step back, letting the door close behind him. Suddenly, Uhura realizes Jim's alone in the infirmary now. She was so happy about her release that she didn't fully realize what it meant. She freezes, stares at the closed door, and tries to let the guilt go.
Footsteps echoing in a nearby corridor finally help her move. She walks back to her room and puts all her things back. The room seems different, but only twenty days have passed since she last slept here. Now the room seems foreign and hostile. She wants to leave and get to work if only to ignore all her thoughts, but she's under orders not to, at least for tonight, so she collapses on the bed. She doesn't undress, doesn't crawl under the sheets. Uhura just lies there, staring at the ceiling until she falls asleep despite the lights in the room.
Even after her forced medical leave and everything that happened before, her internal clock remains flawlessly efficient. Uhura wakes up just as her alarm clock shows six o'clock. She takes off her wrinkled clothes to put on her red uniform with delight and apprehension. Just being in it brings back some of her confidence. She goes to the bathroom and takes care of her hair. It helps to calm her down and at last, she's ready to go.
The crewmembers she sees in the corridors greet her briefly, smiling at her and mouthing a "welcome back". They do not stare, but she can sense her eyes on her, noticing how thin she is. They will be gossiping. There's always gossip on the Enterprise. She'll survive it. She survived worse.
She eats in the mess, quickly and in silence, on her own. She's not hungry, so while she waits for the nausea to go away, Uhura looks at her crewmates, noticing the dark circles under their eyes. The crew is exhausted, physically and mentally. What did McCoy say the day before? That she should focus on her healing, nothing else. But she can't help but worry now, she forces herself to empty her plate and rushes to the bridge.
Her shift begins at seven o'clock. The bridge is noisy when she enters and she takes a few seconds to get used to the craziness again. It's not even that loud. Still, she can notice the peculiar atmosphere. The team is tense, like everyone she met since she left the infirmary. It's not the usual galactic-scale crisis tension, but something more insidious.
Spock's talking quietly with Sulu. He sits on the captain's chair and even if he hides it well, Uhura can guess he wants to jump out of it like it's burning, just because it is Jim who should sit in his place. They all think the same, even if everyone respects Spock.
Sulu's the first to notice her. He smiles, and she smiles back and goes to her station to take care of the accumulated files. Before she asks questions, she needs to keep up with the intel she has at her disposal. It would be easier if people did not think they needed to come salute her. She smiles at everyone, answers quickly, and goes back to her files until they get what she wants, only to deal with work for now. The more she reads, the more she understands how complicated the situation is. She sees request upon request for justifications by the Enterprise's crew, each more insistent than the last.
"We can't escape the politics of Starfleet these days," Sulu says, leaning over her shoulder.
He has a cup of coffee in his hand. Uhura did not notice people were taking an informal pause. There's never a break on the bridge, but people still need to breathe from time to time.
"What do you mean?"
"You've read their requests, don't you? The Federation wants culprits."
"So why are they looking here? They know whose fault it is. It was a trap. They only need to look at who made it."
"Of course," Sulu agrees. His apologetic tone makes Uhura realize how angry she sounded. "And the Federation is mostly satisfied now. We only need to clarify some details. We should learn in a day or two what reparation they ask and the punishment they'll inflict on Cykax's two governments."
"What is the problem, then?" Uhura looks back at her files. Now that she's aware she should look for something, she sees it. The more demanding requests, the more provocative, all come from the same source.
"Marcus's posthumous trial is a month away," Sulu adds.
"What does this have to do with Cykax?"
"It should have nothing to do with it. But Cykax, Khan, Nero... That's a lot of bad press for Starfleet. They are people in the Federation that want to show we take threats against its people seriously."
"Starfleet is trying to show it's not their fault," Uhura understands. "Marcus was a Starfleet admiral. He worked with Khan, and Starfleet could not stop them before they did a lot of damage. The trial will remind it to the public's eye."
"Exactly. Of course, the Starfleet's faults are the Federation's faults, but only the first will have to deal with popular and media pressure in a month's time. Some admirals could lose their seats, if only to show the matter is taken seriously. These people are looking for someone else to blame. Cykax... For them, it came just at the right time."
"Jim's connected to all three events. They'll want to make him their scapegoat."
Sulu nods and finishes his coffee.
"Like you said, he was there. It's ridiculous, but with Admiral Pike's death, we do not have many allies in Starfleet. You'll see more than a few allusions to our "insolent luck" in these files. Some people would like to openly use the words "betrayal" or "incompetence". They don't dare. Not yet."
"I see. What can we do to hold them back?"
Sulu glances at her as if gauging her ability to fight after what she's been through. Uhura hopes he can see she's still strong.
"We cooperate, of course. But, we're also putting together a file with enough proof the captain and the ship reacted the right way, with testimonies from the crew, not only about Cykax, but other missions too. They will not take us by surprise."
"Good idea. Why not send me what you've done? I'll bring you a fresh perspective."
"Thank you. It means a lot. You're good at seeing things others do not."
Around them, the crew's returning to its duties. Uhura and Sulu stay next to each other in comfortable silence. She looks at Spock, who hasn't taken a pause and looks on the verge of collapsing.
"Can't we do anything else?"
"Why, do you propose to blackmail those who want to bring us down? Do you know the Admiralty's juicy secrets?"
"No, of course not. Still... The idea of people wanting to make Jim look guilty just to protect their collective ass..."
"No one likes that idea. But we can't present Jim as a victim. People would look at his life closely. Again. And this time, they could find things, don't they?"
Uhura thinks about Tarsus, dissected by the media alongside the Cykax's trenches. The best way to make Jim untouchable would be to show him as a two-time victim of Starfleet and the Federation's faults. But it would alienate him from many supports inside these two instances. Beyond these political considerations, the idea of seeing Jim's personal life dissected in public makes Uhura nauseous, and he would not want that kind of attention.
"Never."
Sulu's body moves in her direction like he has to physically contain his questions before they cross his lips.
"Funny thing. When we talk about it with Chekov and Spock, they had the exact same reaction."
He goes back to his seat and Uhura is too busy for the rest of her shift to think about Jim or Cykax. When the second team takes over at noon, Chekov jumps out of his seat to talk to her. She silently tells him to wait and exchange a few more words with some colleagues before they both enter the elevator. They're alone now, and Uhura sees the difference it makes on the young man, so discreet during their shared shift.
"It is good to see you better, lieutenant."
"Thank you."
It took a moment for them both to find the nerves to talk about their common worries. They both know what they want to talk about, a subject they cannot speak aloud with anyone else, even a doctor or a therapist.
Tarsus IV.
"What do we do, lieutenant?"
"Did you speak with Spock?"
"I didn't. He's distant these days."
That's one way of putting it, but Uhura saw clearly Spock was not dealing well with what they learned, from the way he made himself unapproachable on the bridge as he did before his friendship with Jim, and from the tension in his muscles every time he came to visit Jim in the infirmary. Spock is on the verge of breaking down.
Uhura feels the same. But how do you explain to a boy still full of hopes that she doubts she'll ever be herself again, that some days she feels alright and others she struggles to accept she's alive and finds it hard to support others around her? That she feels herself being less and less present, like she's a tortoise sealing herself in her shell, and fears one day she'll no longer remember how to let Sulu, Chekov, and even Jim and Spock enter.
He wouldn't understand, and it would be cruel to make him. Chekov lived through several disasters while keeping his childhood innocence. Uhura envies him and will not open his eyes to the word's harshness. Maybe she's the one who became too cynical, and he's right to see the world as he does.
"Even for a half-Vulcan, it is hard to assimilate what we've just experienced," she says, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Chekov shakes his head.
"I know, but that is not the problem here. I think he took harder what happened to the captain before Cykax than what happened to him there. To us. You know?"
She does. It is the same for the three of them. They get out of the elevator and Uhura makes sure the hallway is empty before she continues.
"I've been watching Jim a lot these past few days. He tries to make people think he's doing okay, but he's not. He just pretends, for our sake."
"And we do the same, for his."
They do, and Chekov is clever enough to realize that. Uhura nods in agreement.
"I know he talked to McCoy about what happened on Cykax and Tarsus. I'm not sure what he said exactly, but I know he regrets telling us about Tarsus now that we live. You can see it in his eyes, how he blames himself for the weight he added on our shoulders. For years, he managed not to collapse under the weight of survivor's guilt. I think that, at times, the only thing that allowed him to carry on was the certainty no one he knew had any knowledge about Tarsus."
"We can't pretend we don't."
"No, we can't, and Jim wouldn't accept such a lie."
"So what do we do? We said we would search for Kodos and bring him to justice. Are we still doing it?"
Uhura wants to, but she does not dare to take that responsibility alone. She doesn't, cannot think it's wrong to plan for that man's judgment, but she's not sure they're right to do it alone. The line between vigilantism and justice, or justice and self-justice, is so thin her vision is blurred.
"Let's talk to Spock."
Two days later, she's sitting cross-legged on Spock's bed, going through the all-too-rare public files concerning the Tarsus tragedy. On the ground, Chekov draws up a diagram with Kodos' name in the center and lists some of Tarsus's victims and survivors around it, linking each name to the murderer by a color showing the probable proximity between them. Sitting at his desk, headphones on, Spock listens attentively to recordings. From his face, Uhura's almost sure he's listening to the tyrant's last speech.
For the past two days, they have dedicated all their free time to this dreadful task. They learn near to nothing, but they realize now the enormous gaps Jim left in his story. Uhura is sure she recognized the captain and the children he saved in several testimonies, even though neither of them are named.
It's there, black on white before her. Ten days after the massacre, one survivor, a man in his forties, recounts over several pages how he and his wife hid their food reserves when they had grasped the reality of the situation and how they realized someone had stolen from them. The man had lain in ambush for two days to catch the thief on the spot. When he saw a thirteen-year-old child sneaking into his basement, he had nearly beaten him to death with his fists and feet and left him there "as a warning". The boy had finally dragged himself into the nearest woods. It's written right here: "I would never have hit a child before, but it seemed normal to do it then. It never should."
Two days later, despite the danger and his injuries, the child had returned and robbed them again, leaving a message stuck to the door frame. Reading the testimony again, Uhura wants to cry and smile at the same time because only Jim could take the time to stop and write "your contribution is appreciated" to the man who nearly killed him.
Testimonies like that are legions and make it almost possible to draw up a list of all the scars on Jim's and his friend's bodies. She's shocked but refuses to see culprits and torturers in these survivors. She pities them and hates the circumstances that had let them behave like they did. Maybe she would have done the same. She can only hope she won't have to, but people can become monsters on the eve of tragedy.
Jim had been better than others. He was thirteen when it happened.
Uhura grabs another testimony and opens another file on her padd. Two minutes later, she pushes the padd away, rubs her eyes, and starts reading the testimony from the beginning again, once, twice. She can't remember a word she read. She can't concentrate. Usually, when she's translating something and stops like that, it's her instinct telling her she made a mistake somewhere. Uhura closed the file and reopened the previous one, trying to find what her brain was trying to tell her. On her third reading, she got it and swears quietly. Chekov and Spock raise their heads to look at her.
"Children. There are no children in these testimonies."
"I went through many of them and I saw children."
"Yes, they appear in these testimonies, but they never testify themselves. Where are their stories? Starfleet surely hid Jim's to protect their image, because he was the child of a hero, but with our level of clearance, we should be able to read other children's testimonies."
Chekov feverishly goes through his lists on the floor. Uhura and Spock watch him in silence, thinking fast.
"No children here either," the young man says.
"Jim said children survived... How many?"
"Nineteen," says Spock. "Including seventeen sentenced to death. Six were with Jim, all between seven and thirteen years old."
Chekov grabs his padd and types at full speed.
"There's around 2,500 files of survivors' testimonies plus the testimonies of the landing team, which made 2,557 files. To quickly understand what happened, they questioned multiple people simultaneously during the initial days of the investigation. Each file begins with details about those interviewed, including name, origin, age, weight, sex...So, with an algorithm taking these elements into account..."
It doesn't take long for his calculations to end.
"The youngest witness interviewed is seventeen years old, the age limit set by Kodos to be on the list of the survivors. No name of a surviving child under that age appears here. What does that mean?"
Uhura and Chekov turn to Spock. The half-Vulcan closes his eyes.
"Starfleet may have protected the surviving minors' identity to ensure they grow up without this burden," he thinks aloud. "Protecting Jim's identity may have been a factor in such a decision. However, it is illogical these testimonies are not present in the database. They could contain valuable information, as Tarsus IV remains a necessary subject of study to improve our reaction toward space disasters. It would be much more logical to put these young witnesses' testimonies in the database to add another perspective. It would only need to anonymize them. In itself, the absence of this file is not worrying, just intriguing."
"Do we leave it there?"
"No. It would be better to access it. Jim mentioned he saw Kodos' face twice, the first time at the farm he was staying at, and the second time just after the massacre. Some children who were there with him that day may have recognized him, or had enough information for us to finish the job. These hidden testimonies are too useful to ignore."
Chekov nods and goes back to tapping on his pad, muttering.
"Hacking Starfleet files is difficult but doable. The captain showed me once. I've got a couple of ideas to test and I can make an algorithm to search for the place Jim was and see if there've been any survivors that describe Kodos and just didn't know who he was. We must precise our research, but we'll find him."
Uhura can't suppress a smile, seeing his enthusiasm. She looks toward Spock to see if he shares her amusement, but her eyes widen when she sees the clock on the desk.
"We need to go."
The two men realize with her they almost forgot they need to go to the infirmary. Jim's leaving the sickbay in a few minutes. Chekov hastily picks up the papers scattered on the ground and jumps to his feet. Spock gets up more slowly and puts his padd back on his desk. Only a slight tremor in his hand betrayed his agitation. Uhura can't help but worry about it. This is the first time in several days Spock has shown such a lack of self-control.
"I'll keep you informed," Chekov promises as he gets out, a broad smile on his face. "I'll see you later on the bridge."
Uhura smiles back, then offers her arm to Spock, like a young woman to her suitor at a ball in those old films she watched with her grandmother. Spock let her do it, and truly nothing could scream his distress harder than that. He never acted like that when they were dating. Uhura had never felt so helpless.
He'll be displeased with himself when he realizes what he's doing. Uhura detaches herself from his arm and pretends to go back inside the room, turning her padd off before joining him. He's still not reacting, and his eyes are almost haggard, but a tug on his arm is enough to push him towards the sickbay. They walk side by side in silence, Spock lost in his thoughts and Uhura observing him.
"We should walk faster or Jim will be long gone by the time we get here," she finally dared to say. "You know how eager he is to leave."
Spock jumps slightly. Uhura's no longer sure he knew she was there. He looks at her as if trying to decipher a complex problem on her face.
"You are right," he finally says.
He walks faster after that but is still quiet. Uhura always respected the moment he needed to think. They're both cut from the same mold. That's why they got along and fell in love, and why they're no longer a couple. Uhura understands Spock's silence better than anyone. Jim does, too. The difference is that their captain often chooses not to respect his silence, to force him to confront his opinions and sometimes fight them. It caused much friction between them at first and the reason their friendship is so strong now.
Uhura is not Jim. She doesn't confront Spock but can still feel him boiling inside. And today, she can do nothing but wonder why he's reacting like that. She only knows Spock would hate for this unusual agitation to show when there are crewmembers around them. Finally, she decides it's better to insist and interrupt her friend's flow of thoughts.
"We'll need to be vigilant. Jim may want to prove he's alright and try to do too much on his first day. He's unbearable after a day away from the bridge, so after three weeks I cannot imagine the pain he will be to us all. He'll try to work so hard he'll nearly kill himself."
She's only half joking. Jim seems to have recovered from their ordeal, but he exhibits an unfortunate tendency to react to adversity with a renewed disregard for his safety. It's infuriating, but today Uhura understands better why he's like that. It only makes her worry more.
"I have no doubt about our ability to stop him from hurting himself as long as he stays on the ship."
Spock's tone is more acerbic than usual. He worries too.
"Let's hope trouble doesn't come to find us on the Enterprise, then."
She already knows their respite will be short-lived.
The infirmary door opens to show the exasperated face of Doctor McCoy.
"Here to take him from my hands? Good. Let him bother the rest of the crew rather than my staff."
Jim's sitting cross-legged on the doctor's desk. When he sees them, his smile and radiant, and completely sincere this time. He jumps off the desk and rushes towards them as quickly as he can without losing his dignity. He fails, like Uhura two days earlier, but tries to laugh it off.
"Let's go. If you stay one more minute, I'm sure he'll find an excuse to keep me until tomorrow. I'm this close to thinking it's an act of mutiny. You're not trying to take my ship from me, I hope? Good to see you both, by the way."
"Jim."
Uhura and Spock use the same exasperated voice, but can never hide the affection they both feel for their captain. Jim's embrace is warm and Uhura closes her eyes to wrap her arms around him. It's good to share the simple joy of being alive. Jim's less expansive toward Spock, respecting his need for physical distance, but still squeezes his right shoulder briefly. Spock does the same, his hand tightening for a moment too long on Jim's shoulder.
"The day we mutiny, you won't see it coming, Captain," Uhura says, infected by Jim's expansiveness.
"I'll do. You're not that good."
"Look at you, thinking you're so smart. You wouldn't notice anything, even if I shouted 'rebellion' on the bridge."
He has too much trust in his crew, and Uhura can't help but think. Them keeping their investigation a secret from now is... not betrayal, but it's a close thing.
Jim takes a deep breath and walks out of the infirmary under the amused gaze of McCoy, who lets the door close behind them.
"What now? I don't suppose you'll me go on the bridge immediately, to give Sulu enough time to implement your mutiny?"
"Our shift starts at 20:00, captain. It gives you enough time to settle down in your quarters and eat."
Spock's already taking his usual place next to Jim. His tone makes it clear enough that Jim would better accept to use his leisure time as intended, or Spock will take it upon² himself to take him back to the sickbay by force. It's clear he thinks Jim should take the night off. Jim pretends to think about it and answers with the same determined voice.
"I'll leave my things in my quarters and clean up a bit. You'll brief me on today's matters after. We eat together in the mess and I'll take my shift at 7:30. It will be good for the beta shift to see their captain on the bridge."
Spock hesitates before agreeing with a nod.
The bit of cleaning Jim asked for turns into a long shower during which Uhura and Spock wait patiently, discussing the latest book they read. When the captain returns and settles down on his bed, he immediately questions Spock about everything that has happened in recent days, throwing out suggestions and listening attentively to his first officer's opinions. Caught up in their discussion, they don't even realize how they lean toward each other. Jim's smiling and Spock's shoulders relax imperceptibly. After half an hour, Uhura realizes they don't even remember she's here. It could vex her to be ignored like that if it wasn't so fascinating watching them talk and see new ideas emerge from their heated exchanges.
Uhura sits comfortably and listens to them discuss the latest repairs to the Enterprise and how to respond to Starfleet's repeated requests.
For a few moments, Uhura can pretend everything is back to normal. She takes the occasion to rest a little, keeping track of the time to ensure that Jim does not arrive on the bridge with an empty stomach. Despite herself, she dozes off.
The faint noise of their discussion wakes up after a moment and it takes all her will to not move and distract them. Their heads are so close now their hair brushes against each other. Their voices have reduced to a whisper even though their discussion remains focused on the Enterprise. Jim's more relaxed, no longer just pretending he's alright. It is no longer the false confidence Uhura hates so much. And Spock... For the first time since they jumped into the Cykax's trenches, his usual serenity is back. The anxious and distraught Vulcan who confessed to Uhura about his inability to meditate a week earlier was gone. He's himself, serene and sure of himself.
Seeing them like this, Uhura wants to smile, but can't. She only feels sadness. Strange. She thinks that each of them brings out the best in each other and that's what makes them such a good team. But it doesn't end here. She sees it now, after months of being blind. Jim's and Spock's half-smiles, the exclusive attention they sometimes give to each other, even surrounded by friends, and Spock's unique way of raising his eyebrow when talking to his captain and friend, all make sense now. They're attracted to each other. Probably more than attracted.
Suddenly, Uhura wonders. When did it started? They've always been a tension between them, she can see it right now, remains of the rocky beginnings of their friendship, but tension does not prevent attraction. That's why Spock couldn't meditate, but was it because of his worry for a man he loved, or did his two-half fight to repress or realize how strong he felt toward Jim? Uhura cannot even guess whether the two men are aware they're showing their feelings to the world, or at least to Uhura, or did they ignore they were falling in love. If they know, she doubts they have admitted it aloud already.
The only thing Uhura's sure of is that what she sees between them is real and powerful. It cannot be otherwise with them. From the start, they've felt strongly toward each other. At first, it was contempt, then hatred, then friendship. Love or desire is not a surprising development. For both their sake and because she loves them so much, Uhura can only hope it will last. There's every ingredient here for disaster or something wonderful, and a rupture could destroy them both, especially now. But no, she's hopeful for them. Because they know each other's flaws and the trauma caused by Vulcan and Tarsus both. They've seen each other fight to get over what happened to them and admire each other. So yes, Uhura can believe it will work. And it's wonderful to feel hope.
Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, and Uhura forces herself to interrupt them.
"Excuse me, but if you want to be on the deck on time, we should go to the mess now."
Spock blinks and looks around as if unaware of where he is or how much time has passed. Maybe he didn't. It would be a first. Jim stands up and smiles, then straightens, becoming the captain once again and displaying the confident face the crew wants to see. He furtively shakes her hand as he passes near her. His hand does not tremble. It is firm and determined, like him.
Uhura smiles back. It is not over yet. They still have to fight against the trauma Cykax left them with, the anger, the fear. But she can think everything will be fine.
They met Chekov in the officer's mess. The young man greets Jim enthusiastically, and when he leaves, he brushes past Uhura.
"I think I have a lead," he whispers, careful to not let anyone hear him. "I'll keep you informed."
Uhura takes great care not to show any reaction to this announcement, not while Jim looks at her, inviting her to enter the mess hall with him. She'll have time to react to it later. They will all have time to react and help Jim get justice for themselves and for all the victims of Tarsus and Cykax.
They need to.