Title: A World of Crazy (3/?)
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Summary: AU. Leonard is shipped to Fleet Heights where he learns that he is part of a legendary crew that could change the world—except everyone (including him) is certifiably insane.
Previous Part: 1 | 2
Okay, I don’t mean to scare off my readers by writing an AU. In the one-shot before this fic, I was able to accomplish a goal that I had been contemplating for a long, long time. That convinced me of one simple thing: if it makes me happy to write it, and my brain is on board, then I should. This is me expanding my horizons and tackling the AU genre—because it’s been on my mind for some time. Now, where this is set, in the “crazy house” so to speak, I hope alerts my regular readers that this fic is not serious in any shape or form. These people are loopy, and we all know that Jim and his crew like to have adventures wherever they may be. So, I’ll tell you that as far as plot is concerned… no idea whatsoever. Expect craziness. Expect K/S/M. That’s about all I can tell you at this point!
That said, make sure you’ve read the previous part—it’s the introduction to our crew!
The Man of Adventure
Leonard is having one of his bad days. Okay, so maybe none of his days are good days, per se, but there are moments when he is actually cordial to other people (for a span of thirty seconds). But today…
Definitely not one of them.
It starts with Len waking up to the sound of BANG-BANG-BANG. It’s Spock, of course, working on his latest gadget. It took the man 75.490643 hours (Spock informs Leonard, serious-faced) to complete the communicator that Kirk insisted his crew needed for emergency contact. Now—wait. Vulcan, Len corrects. Jesus, why does Len have to think of him that way? Oh right, Spock has an “episode” if he’s treated like a Human—definitely not a repeat adventure the doctor wants to see. And even stranger, Spock seems to enjoy Leonard’s insults so long as McCoy makes reference to his Vulcan-ness.
Initially McCoy was at a loss for thinking of adjectives and nouns that would fit the bill (’cause what is a Vulcan anyway?). He woke up one morning with a note stuck to his forehead. It read (in terrible chicken-scratch)…
-> green blood
-> ears with points
-> super strength
-> super intelligence (McCoy smacked his head at this one.)
-> touch telepathy
-> logic and controlled emotional response
Of course, Leonard had to sit up to bitch at Spock about creeping up on him in the middle of the night and touching his person, but then Len’s eye caught a flash of the scribbling on the wall. After comparing the two, it was obvious that this wasn’t Spock’s handwriting—which was rather neat (for a genius). It only took another five seconds of further contemplation to delineate the perpetrator.
Who the fuck else?
So Leonard just idled there, cross-legged on his bed and frowning over the list of Vulcan characteristics he ought to know. Later, in the cafeteria as Spock so solicitously informed McCoy that his eating habits were unsatisfactory, out popped “Mind your own damn business, you pointy-eared hobgoblin!” Spock blinked in surprise (and McCoy was sure he had startled his own self too).
Then Spock answered, “Very well, Doctor.” He paused, added, “Your insult was most illogical.” But there was a strange little gleam in Spock’s eye thereafter. McCoy would never admit it, but he has always enjoyed the thrill of creative name-calling.
It wasn’t until later that afternoon that Leonard McCoy realized Spock had called him “Doctor” with an ease of familiarity. And it wasn’t until two days after that McCoy accepted the fact that being the Doctor had soothed something broken inside of him.
But today is not good, and Spock is making a racket of noise when it’s too early for thought. “Goddamn it, you inhuman computer! Stop that!”
There’s a minute pause between bangs but Spock obviously decides in favor of ignoring McCoy’s bitching. (As usual.) Len rolls off the edge of the bed and stuffs his feet into a pair of slippers. (They don’t get decent shoes in this place, and especially not with laces.) He makes sure to slam the door on his way out. The sound rings down the empty corridor. McCoy shoves his hands into his robe, head bowed, and walks as far as he possibly can, just to get away from Spock before he goes from being labeled as insane to criminally insane—and tried for murder.
As Len rounds a corner, he is speculating on whether or not he could claim that, in his defense, Spock wasn’t even Human and get people to believe that he believes that.
Oh Hell. Why is Kirk even up at this ungodly hour?
“Go away, kid.”
Jim ignores his request (just like Spock) and bounces right up to his side. “I’m heading out on a secret mission. The Captain needs backup. You should come along.”
He does that sometimes—referring to himself in third person. Spock claims that it’s part of Jim’s delusion of grandeur. Len can believe it.
“I’m a doctor, Jim, not a spy.”
There’s a dimple on Jim’s left cheek when he grins. For some reason, it’s enticing to Leonard and he’ll be damned if he can explain why. McCoy won’t touch the kid, though, because he sees that blond hair and the whimper Jocelyn creeps up his throat. (Jim seems to think Len’s hands-off policy is a personal challenge for Captain Kirk to overcome.)
Leonard takes a random sharp right turn, but Jim is tagging along like he’s on a leash. Finally, with the fellow practically breathing down his neck, Len halts, puts his hand on Jim’s chest and gives him a mighty push backwards. Rather than stumbling (and possibly falling on his ass, which Len was hoping for), Jim has Leonard’s hand in both of his own and drags the doctor forward into the Captain’s personal space.
“Damn it, Jim! Can’t you just leave me the Hell alone!”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I don’t want you,” he spits. “I’ve got a wife, okay?”
The pupils of Jim’s eyes dilate and his nostrils flare in some sort of oddly repressed rage. “Yeah, Bones? And what’s she doing right now, while you eat shit and watch Scotty try to feed an invisible Keenser? Fucking the neighbor?”
There’s bile rising in Bones’ throat. He suddenly sees Joce in bed with Clay and he wants to puke. Jim must understand that he struck a painfully raw nerve, because Leonard is being pressed against the kid’s chest and getting his hair stroked like a child.
He doesn’t break away immediately and, for an unknown reason, lets his head drop onto Jim’s shoulder. They stand like that for a good few minutes. When Len comes back to his senses, he goes stiff. Jim drops his petting hands. Neither says a word, but Jim has a look in his eyes that makes Leonard’s heart pick up speed.
It’s not pity, it’s…
Jim is reaching for him, with words like “I’m sorry, Bon—” and it’s all wrong—
The moment is broken. As Jim spins on his heel and snaps “What?” Leonard is taking one step back, then another. There’s a tremor in his hands that won’t stop, so he clasps them tightly together behind his back.
Chekov and Sulu stop a couple of feet away from their incensed Captain. The Russian’s eyes are wide with apprehension and Sulu keeps looking between Jim and Leonard with a thoughtful expression.
“Sorry for the interruption, Captain. When you weren’t at the designated meeting area, we commenced a search for you.” Sulu adds, “It’s 0800, Sir.”
Jim’s shoulders are relaxing, and he shifts on his feet to jut a hip with innate cockiness. Leonard doesn’t need to see his face to know that the man is grinning like a madman. (Fact is, Jim is a madman.)
“A minor delay in plans, gentleman,” the Captain announces. “Doctor McCoy will be joining the mission to the surface.”
“Oooo…” Chekov looks excited, and Len’s stomach does a sudden flop.
Before he can protest, Sulu and Chekov are on either side of him and babbling “Doctor McCoy! We need you!” “What if the Captain gets injured?” “What if we are captured by Klingons!”
“No, no and NO!” When he attempts to leave, Jim corners him from the front.
“C’mon, Bones. We really do need you!”
“What the fuck, Jim? I know you can’t be this insane! We’re in an institution—”
“—on fucking planet EARTH!”
The Captain goes hard-eyed; that’s when Len knows he has said one word too many. Kirk steps up to him (all softness and sympathy from minutes before vanished) and says in the most authoritarian voice Len has ever heard in his life, “Doctor McCoy, you believe as you see fit but when it comes to my crew, I won’t tolerate heresy. Do we understand each other?”
“McCoy! Either you’re with us or you’re not!”
Leonard feels like the kid spoiling the game of make-believe on the playground. And damn it, he shouldn’t feel that way! They’re all adults, grown men with serious illnesses and—
Jim’s blue eyes are intent on him, like back in the cafeteria that day. Leonard swallows, makes a choice. He’s a bastard and he knows it; but these people are just as miserable as he is. If they can only survive harsh reality by living in a fantasy, then who he is to judge? Who is Leonard McCoy, this bitter man who had his rose-tinted glasses smashed and now can’t cope?
“A’right, Captain,” he says slowly. “I’m sorry. Mission’s on.”
The smile that lights Jim’s face is different then usual—it seems… genuine. Such a simple gesture that coats the painfully stark walls of Len’s heart. He shakes the weird feeling off.
“Excellent. Sulu! You have our weapons?”
Weapons? Oh shit. “Jim—”
“Don’t worry, Bones. I understand. Hippocratic oath and all that. We’ll watch out for you.”
Shit, that’s not what he meant. But Jim isn’t paying any attention to Leonard because the upcoming mission—what the Hell can they possibly do?—has all of the Captain’s focus.
As they march back the way they came—and then past it and towards the stairs, Leonard catches Chekov’s ear. “Where are we going, son?”
“Down to the surface, Doctor!”
Leonard suppresses his snarky reply (barely). “I’m new to this, Pavel. Explain it to me.” The use of Chekov’s first name makes the navigator sidle closer to McCoy with glee.
“Well, Doctor, I shall try. You see, we are on t’ship, Sir, and below us is the planet.” They’re descending slowly down a set of stairs, so the first level must be the planet. Leonard sighs to himself. “We are running wery low on supplies, so the Captain has decided to meet with the planet’s people to negotiate a deal.”
Oh Lord in Heaven. Whoever Jim’s contact on the “planet” is, Leonard has a bad feeling that this mission won’t go so well.
Leonard grunts as they file outside the exit to the stairwell and Jim pokes his head around the corner to look for angry natives.
“Doctor, we can get you supplies for Sickbay too.”
His eyebrow shoots up. Medical supplies? Chekov doesn’t seem to be kidding. As Jim says to the three officers, “Coast clear, arm yourselves!” and Sulu and Chekov pull out what appears to be forks taped to the end of toilet paper rolls from their robe pockets, Leonard decides that he might as well go along with the plan and acquire what supplies he can.
After all, Doctor McCoy has no doubt he’s going to need them in the near future.