Title: New Light to the Darkness (3/4)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: McCoy’s feelings don’t go unnoticed.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2

Warning for possible triggers – imagery of non-consensual mind-melding

Three days following the conversation with Spock, ship’s business has settled back into a familiar routine for Leonard. A feeling of unease persists, however, that he has only glimpsed the path to resolution rather than actually taken it, so at the end of beta shift on the third day, this uneasiness drives him to the corridor outside his captain’s quarters, where he awkwardly balances a tray on one hand and contemplates the solid structure of Kirk’s cabin door.

After an indecisive moment, Leonard reminds himself that he has the right to be there both as a doctor to and a friend of Jim. Taking that one step forward allows the door’s sensors to pick up his presence. Since McCoy is one of the few people aboard the ship for whom Jim has programmed his cabin to allow unrestricted access, the door slides open with nary a sound.

Upon finding an empty room, he calls ahead, “Jim?” and cautiously wanders toward the partition that sections off the bedroom from the main cabin.

The lights within are dimmed nearly to extinction. The vaguely human-shaped lump in the middle of the bed must be Kirk.

“Lights,” Leonard commands in a softer tone, “twenty percent.” This grants him enough light to see by but not enough to rouse the room’s sleeping occupant.

Leonard backtracks to set his tray on the round table in the other cabin, then heads straight through the bedroom to the bathroom. There he unlocks Jim’s personal medicine cabinet to retrieve a small case stamped with the emblem of a generic medkit. Popping the lid, he removes a hypospray that, as suspected, has been used so infrequently it still contains most of its contents.

Returning to the bedroom, Leonard settles on the bed’s edge and dials the correct dose for the hypospray. He depresses it into the skin of Kirk’s exposed neck.

“Kid,” he chastises in a murmur after setting the hypo aside on a small end table, “I prescribe you medicine for a reason. You’re supposed to use it.” An errant lock of hair curling across Jim’s forehead is enticing Leonard to brush it aside. He is about to give in to temptation when Jim sighs softly against the pillow mashed to the side of his face.

Eyes still closed, the man mumbles, “Wasn’t bad.”

“That’s what you always say.” Jim shifts, then, and Leonard presses a restraining hand to one bare shoulder. “Take your time. Your body needs a minute to adjust.”

“This one doesn’t make me nauseous, Bones.”

“I know but a little caution never hurt anybody.”

A corner of Jim’s mouth deepens as his eyes open to a squint. “A McCoy family motto.”

Leonard pats Kirk’s shoulder before removing his hand. “One of many. Think you might feel like a little supper?”

Jim continues to squint—conditioned, Leonard knows, from years of migraines to expect pain. Eventually Kirk’s face relaxes enough that his eyes fully open. He rolls sideways to look at Leonard, and Leonard doesn’t protest this time. “Were we scheduled for dinner?” The question is followed by a tinge of alarm.

Leonard suppresses a swell of fondness. “Don’t worry, you didn’t forget. I just happened to receive a new shipment today and thought of you.”

The remaining sleepiness recedes from Jim’s face. “The bourbon arrived!”

Leonard isn’t above a bit of dramatics. He sighs gustily. “Too bad we’re going to have to crack it open another time.”

“Bones.“

“You know the rules,” Leonard chides lightly as he moves back to give Jim room to maneuver into a sitting position. “No mixing alcohol with your migraine medication.”

Jim frowns. “Then you should’ve let me keep the migraine.”

“You can’t be that eager for a drink.”

Jim’s gaze touches on him briefly, more serious than humored, before sliding away. “I’m not. It’s the company I prefer.”

Leonard’s brain blanks. Then he jokes to cover his own surprise, “Careful, kid. Somebody might think you’re tryin’ to charm me.”

Jim’s gaze comes back to him, this time speculative, but he shrugs one shoulder and offers a half-smirk.

Leonard doesn’t care to think through that reaction too carefully at the moment so he stands, tugging Jim up by the forearm as he goes. “I’ll order the food. You—” He waves a hand at Jim’s attire, or lack thereof. “—find some pants.”

Jim’s smirk becomes a guileless smile. “I don’t think the problem is me, Bones. You’re impossible to charm.”

Leonard snorts, releases his friend, and returns to the main cabin. There he fiddles with the bottle of bourbon briefly without purpose to pass some time before he unstacks the two glasses he had brought along as well and fills them with water.

Fool, Leonard warns to himself, don’t make something out of nothing.

What’s happening is those blasted reports meddling with his mind! Why else would he be affected by a simple remark like the one Jim had made? He already knows that Kirk enjoys his company. They’re best friends, for god’s sake!

“You must be very disappointed,” Jim observes as he comes around the partition.

“What?”

The man elaborates, “You’re muttering at the bottle, yet somehow I don’t think it deserves your ire, Bones.”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “Never you mind my penchant for talkin’ to myself.”

“Uh-huh. Where’s my food?”

Leonard almost slaps his forehead, hurrying to the replicator (a rare commodity for an officer’s quarters but Jim is the captain of the ship after all). “Shit, I forgot. It’ll be up shortly.”

Jim lounges on the nearby couch, crossing one leg over the other at the knee and draping his arms along its back. “No salad.”

“No salad, then no dessert,” Leonard retorts.

That perks Kirk up. “I can have dessert?”

“I’m not a complete son-of-a-bitch.”

“Sometimes,” his friend disagrees, cheeky as ever, “you really are.”

“Yeah, well. It’s not like you’re a ball of sunshine either.” Leonard inputs the code for a particular meal plan he has in mind that will suit them both.

Minutes later, Jim abandons the couch and a quiet contemplation when Leonard, juggling plates of food, turns towards the little kitchenette’s table. Together they set out the meal in silence. It isn’t until Jim has retrieved utensils from a cabinet drawer, passed them out, and taken a seat opposite Leonard that Jim appears ready to speak his mind.

And, per usual, he does so in a carefully crafted manner, all at once seeming only casually conversational in his inquiry but also especially intent on the reply: “So, Bones, what brought you to my quarters this late with a desire to share your prized bourbon?”

“You say that as if I don’t share my liquor stash with you on a regular basis.”

Jim smiles slightly, not looking up from the lettuce he has stabbed with his fork.

Leonard leans back in his chair and finishes chewing on his mouth full of food before answering. “I had to make certain what Spock said didn’t upset you.”

Jim glances at him. “Why would I be upset?”

Leonard decided before he packed up his bourbon and pair of drinking glasses that he would have to be blunt. “I’m not jealous of you, Jim.”

Jim puts down his fork and locks his arms across his chest, signaling the end to their pretense for caring more about dinner than the current conversation. “I never said I agreed with Spock.”

“But you know him.” After a tense pause, Leonard adds, “Well enough to be aware that Spock wouldn’t bring a concern to you without good reason.”

“Spock can be wrong,” Jim argues. “If you tell me there is a misunderstanding, I have to assume it’s true.”

Leonard is somewhat taken aback. “Are you saying you trust me more than you trust him?”

“We aren’t talking about an issue of trust, Bones.” Jim’s expression tightens momentarily with an emotion akin to displeasure. “Whatever is… troubling you and Spock, you need to work it out yourselves. Bringing me into the middle makes things worse, remember?” His jaw twitches. “I have no desire to reprimand either of you again.”

Leonard’s bark of laughter isn’t at all feigned. “You—Jim, you think Spock and I are having a pissing contest? My god!” He is laughing without restraint now, unable to manage a coherent word until he takes a sip from his glass of water to calm himself down.

The redness in Jim’s face isn’t fading. Jim challenges, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Bullshit. It’s not just one pissing contest, Bones. You guys have made it perpetual.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Yes, you have!” Jim brings the flat of his hand down on the table with a crack, exploding suddenly, “And I’m done with it!”

Some of Leonard’s amusement fades in the face of his captain’s temper. “Jim, listen to me. We fixed that problem ages ago. You asked us to, so we did.” Kirk just looks at Leonard until Leonard’s shoulders drop an inch. “I swear we did.”

That slight grimace of Jim’s returns. “Then why do you and Spock continue to argue constantly?”

Leonard picks up his napkin, rubbing it between two fingertips. He can’t quite look his friend in the eyes. “Has it occurred to you that we enjoy arguing with each other?”

Jim closes his mouth and sits back in his chair, frowning. Then he grabs his water and drains the glass. “You enjoy it?” he says afterwards with a faint kind of wonder. “But I don’t enjoy fighting with Spock.”

“That’s because you usually piss Spock off so much, he’s tempted to strangle you again.”

Jim doesn’t appear to understand. “And how’s that different from the way you two fight?”

Leonard explains, “Spock and I… spar verbally. It’s kinda friendly. Not all the time,” he is quick to amend at Jim’s incredulous expression, rubbing a hand against his forehead. “But there’s no animosity behind how we interact anymore. Frustration, lots and lots of that. I have to say, I think I respect him all the more because he does frustrate me.” He drops his hand and smiles. “I guess by those standards, I must worship you.”

There is only humor in Jim’s eyes now, no lingering anger. “I guess you must.” Jim clears his throat. “Bones, I’m sorry. I made a stupid assumption.”

“I think the fault is mine and Spock’s. We should have reported our reconciliation to you. Eased that worry.” He studies his friend more closely. “Just how long has this been chewing at you?”

Jim reaches for the pitcher of water and refills his glass. “Long enough. I need you both,” he answers, as if that is the only proper explanation he can give. “I can’t command this ship without you.”

Leonard isn’t certain what to make of either statement. “You command the Enterprise just fine.”

When Jim looks up, the seriousness of his gaze unsettles Leonard. “Do you believe in destiny, Bones?” Even if Leonard had a quick answer, Jim gives him no time to respond. “I don’t—or I didn’t when I first accepted this position. I was too concerned with proving myself.”

“Jim…”

Kirk lifts a hand to stall anything Leonard might say. “It’s okay. I understand now that the only person who expected too much was me. I’m… better now. But sometimes I’m left feeling that being out here is,” he pauses briefly, clearly searching for the right word, “not entirely in my control. There are patterns you can’t imagine—” Jim draws a breath, seems to correct himself. “Ironically it has given me something to look forward to.” His gaze lingers on Leonard’s. “So given how things have been lately between us, I find myself questioning my purpose again. My… destiny.”

“Purpose or destiny—whatever you call it, Jim, it’s what you decide it should be. If something or someone is making you unhappy on this ship,” Leonard swallows hard at the thought that Jim’s ‘us’ could imply that someone is him, “or if you want something else for yourself other than what Starfleet has to offer, don’t think for a second that you’re obligated to stay.”

“I know that, Bones. I’m only saying that I find it difficult to reconcile what I want with what I currently have.”

“You’re losing me. What else do you want? You have an exciting career, a stellar crew, and the flagship of the ‘Fleet,” he protests.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Leonard huffs. “Given the variety of crazy things you and I have seen in these last few years, I’m less inclined to dismiss any idea as impossible. And, god,” he complains, lifting his eyes ceiling-ward for a second, “now you got me sounding like Spock!”

“You did that all on your own,” Jim counters with a quick grin. But as that grin fades, a hint of discomfort remains behind. “I want… that other life.”

Leonard is confused again. “Whose life?”

“Mine. I mean, not mine exactly. His. The one Spock’s Kirk had.”

“Jim, you are Spock’s Kirk.”

Jim shakes his head slightly, a forlorn motion. “Not our Spock, Bones. The other Spock.”

“Oh.” Finally the implication of what Jim is saying dawns on Leonard. “Wait a minute, how do you know what kind of life that Jim Kirk had?”

Jim grimaces, scratches at his head. “Sometimes I dream about it. Only, not dreams… Memories, I think?”

“What!” Leonard pushes out of his chair in an instant, skipping alarmed altogether to land smack in the middle of freaked out.

Jim’s hands go up. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Sickbay,” Leonard snarls, snagging the sleeve of Jim’s shirt with the intention of dragging the idiot to his feet. “We’re going to Sickbay!”

“Bones, calm down.”

“Calm! You trying being calm when your best friend admits to having somebody else’s memories instead of his own! Oh hell no,” he rants in a thickening drawl that belies how upset he truly is, “we’re gonna straighten this shit out right now! Where’s that fool hobgoblin? Spock! Damn it, Jim, why the hell won’t you get up? SPOCK!”

Jim switches his grip from McCoy’s wrist to his shoulders, standing up only to shake Leonard instead of be dragged along. “Bones,” Jim keeps saying, “listen. It’s fine. I’m fine. And Spock can’t hear you through the wall—”

The door to Kirk’s quarters slides open, the complaint, “Dr. McCoy, shouting is unnecessary when you desire my company,” floating ahead of the newcomer’s arrival. Spock freezes in front of the doorway when he sees them.

“Help me,” Jim orders sharply to the Vulcan, “he’s panicking.”

“I’m not!” Leonard tries to snap, but it has become a little difficult to breathe and talk at the same time so, okay, he might be having a small panic attack after all. “Shit,” he says weakly.

Spock’s hand ghosts Leonard’s right shoulder, settling on his arm. Jim takes hold of the doctor’s left side. The pair steers him to the couch. Once seated, Leonard bends forward and places his forehead against his knees. With Spock and Jim situated on either side of him, his panic slowly recedes.

“Well,” he mutters some time later, taking care as he straightens up, “that wasn’t pleasant.”

Jim still has a grip on his arm. “What happened?”

“You s-scared me,” he stammers, feeling a flush creep up his neck that has nothing to do with panic and everything to do with embarrassment regarding his overreaction.

Jim’s “Bones” is full of meaning: sympathy, concern, and a demand for more truth.

Leonard is careful not to look at either Jim or Spock. “What you were talking about, Jim, sounds like symptoms of someone messing with your mind.” Leonard feels Spock stiffen. “I’m sensitive about it, is all. Can’t stand the thought that that could’ve been done to you.” He’s afraid that just by saying these words he has given too much away.

Jim tugs on Leonard’s arm until Leonard looks at him. “Bones, I’ve had these dreams for years. They’re a residual effect but not harmful. I made certain of that.” His tone becomes firmer. “What I want is an explanation about you. What haven’t you told me?”

Leonard’s mouth is too dry. Is he going to have to tell them?

Maybe Spock takes pity on Leonard or Spock is simply uncomfortable with knowing only half the conversation, but all the same Leonard is grateful when he intervenes. Though, to be fair, Spock sounds far from happy as he says, “Captain, I am well-aware dreaming is a common occurrence for your species but you speak of such in a different context, as the result of external stimuli. Therefore I echo Dr. McCoy’s concern. Please specify. An effect of what?”

Jim shifts his gaze from McCoy to Spock. “The encounter on Delta Vega with your counterpart. I did tell you about that, Commander.”

The Vulcan’s gaze darkens. “You failed to mention a residual effect.”

Leonard cannot help his intrigue, for Spock is so rarely inept at disguising his emotions. This agitation is unusual.

Then Jim retorts, “Maybe I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

Spock’s nostrils flare ever-so-slightly.

Leonard has the sudden feeling he should not be in the middle of this particular argument. He tries to get up. Spock deftly draws him back down and Jim pins his shoulder with a hand, doing all of this without interrupting their glaring contest.

“Excuse me,” Leonard inserts politely, “but I hear a little bird calling.”

Jim says, “No.”

Spock’s “Negative” is no less commanding.

“I have to pee,” he insists.

Spock and Jim switch their stares to him. Remembering how stubborn both of them can be, Leonard crosses his arms over his chest and settles back into the couch cushion, resigned to his lot in life to be stuck in between them. How laughable, Jim complaining about him not getting along with Spock. Sometimes these two are just like oil and water!

Jim has begun to eye Leonard speculatively again.

Spock remarks matter-of-factly, “We will discern the matter with Dr. McCoy shortly.”

Oh no we will not. Leonard will fake a second panic attack if he has to. Some things are not up for discussion.

The little voice in the back of his head disagrees, saying this conversation was inevitable. When Medical contacts Command…

Leonard shuts down that line of thinking as guilt beginning to rear its ugly head.

The way Jim and Spock are staring at each other now means they have come to some silent agreement. Jim’s gaze breaks away from Spock’s to find Leonard. He jokes with a touch of ruefulness, “You didn’t tell me confessions were a requirement of tonight’s dinner.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t keep things to yourself.”

“To hear that statement coming from you is quite ironic, Doctor.”

“Oh, can it, Spock. Jim’s the one who didn’t tell you about your older self mucking with his brain waves.” Of course, Jim hadn’t told his physician that either. That does make Leonard mad; but Leonard also accepts that if it has been happening for years as Jim claims, he’s just crying over spilt milk.

As fiercely as they can disagree sometimes, Jim is also very good at changing Spock’s mind. Leonard knows he has been checkmated when Jim announces in a mild tone, indicating himself, “This guy isn’t going to talk unless Bones agrees to do the same.”

Leonard fidgets in dismay.

Spock inclines his head. “I believe that is a fair arrangement.”

“How’s that fair!” the doctor explodes. “You need to share a secret with us too for it to be fair!”

Spock reminds him gravely, “As I informed you, Doctor, in due time. I do intend to honor my promise.”

Leonard’s denial sputters and dies before leaving his throat. He had thought Spock was being cryptic per usual, not making a promise. So this means a file of Spock does exist, and Leonard will be privy to it?

Will Jim?

Jim snaps his fingers in front of McCoy’s face. “Fascinating though Spock is, Bones, I need you to answer my question.”

Leonard glares out of habit. “You answer Spock first.”

“Captain’s orders, Bones.”

“Doctor’s orders, Captain.”

“Gentlemen,” their third companion intervenes, “I shall be the one to decide.” Spock focuses on Leonard. “As Jim has attempted somewhat of an explanation for his circumstances, however unsatisfactory that explanation may be—” Jim, the idiot, just grins. “—I believe we should hear yours, Doctor. Before you disagree,” Spock tacks on quickly as Leonard opens his mouth, “recall that you are the one who requested my presence.”

This time Leonard’s glare is genuinely born of annoyance. “You and your damn cat ears.”

Spock ignores the jab. “Contrary to how you wish to be perceived, you are very much an intellectual being, Dr. McCoy, so I assume you have already discerned the cause of your panic, perhaps even attempted a treatment for it.” When Leonard stubbornly locks his jaw, the Vulcan continues in a flatter voice, “But the fact remains that it exists and does affect you. You place yourself and others at risk. Why and from whence does your phobia of being mentally compromised stem?”

Leonard bares his teeth. “Bite me.”

Something flickers through the Vulcan’s eyes. Wordlessly he raises his left hand, fingers splayed, towards Leonard’s face.

Leonard feels sweat gather along his temples. He knows his face must have drained of color. The body’s response always gives away fear. The closer Spock’s hand is, the more slippery Leonard’s control over his reaction becomes. He hates that his normally steady hands have a fine tremor running through them.

Spock withdraws without warning to conclude with regret, “As I suspected.”

An arm slides around Leonard’s shoulders—Jim, shifting so that their sides press together, an offer of support and comfort.

Leonard closes his eyes briefly. “Damn you, Spock.”

Spock adopts a neutral expression. “Your aversion also extends to me specifically, implying a connection between my ability and your fear.” His pause of silence is tense, weighed down with an unspoken fear. “Have you been harmed by a telepath… a Vulcan?”

Jim’s arm tightens about Leonard. “Bones.”

“No,” Leonard is able to answer truthfully, “nothing has happened to me.” Yet his voice is on the edge of cracking, not from fear but an ever-present guilt. “I witnessed an attack on someone else.”

“When?” Kirk and Spock ask together. “Who?”

“During the incident with the parallel universe,” Leonard says, “the one where everything was… switched. Like a mirror.”

Jim turns Leonard around to face him, his tone at first demanding, only to falter midway to a plea. “But how could…? Bones, you never said anything!”

“It happened before we locked your counterparts in the brig. You—I mean, the other you,” he explains, “had ordered his Spock to find out why the Enterprise and crew looked different. The officer who had been manning the transporter when they appeared raised the alarm. I was close enough to respond. When I got there, that bastard had her—Lt. Korro—pinned to the console. He was…” Unable to help himself, he flicks a look at Spock. “…taking information from her mind. About our universe. Us.”

The horror in Spock’s eyes is unmistakable. Leonard drops his gaze to Jim’s arms, who still has him by the shoulders. “I stunned him. Then Sulu and Security arrived and took care of the rest.” He remembers it too vividly, the bearded Spock collapsing, Korro sliding off the console to the ground. That imposter Kirk, bearing a thin scar down the side of his face, had leapt off the platform with a murderous expression. Leonard had been too shocked to turn his phaser on Jim. If not for Sulu showing up at the right moment and stunning Kirk mid-stride, Leonard suspects Kirk would have cut his throat with the short dagger in his hand.

“Korro,” Jim says the name softly, a look of distress building in his gaze.

Leonard knows now that he has to confess the rest of the story, no matter how awful it is. “Sulu was busy interrogating the imposters, and Scotty had to figure what had actually happened to you, Spock, Uhura, and Chekov during transport. I took Korro to Sickbay and stayed with her but, Jim, there was no accurate way for us to measure the damage. Spock wasn’t there to ask. After I kept her for a day of observation, she insisted I had no medical reason to detain her. When I tried to tell her that having someone force his way into her mind was no different than rape, she almost struck me. Then she cried.” He takes a breath to steady his voice. “I’ve dealt with victims of physical violation before. The signs were there. I sat her down. We talked about treatment. I reminded her I was obligated to report her condition up the chain of command.”

Korro’s sorrowful voice from that confrontation rings through his mind. She had said, You don’t understand, Dr. McCoy. My father is governor of the Zeta colonies. If he hears of this, it’s all the leverage he needs to have me removed from duty and bring me home. The woman had gripped her arms hard enough to bruise. I want to work for Starfleet. It’s my dream. Please, I only need time… I’m not in pain!

“Against my better judgment, we worked out a compromise. I would maintain our doctor-patient confidentiality, and in return she swore to attend sessions with Dr. Noel twice a week for the foreseeable future. I reserved the right to notify you if I or Noel thought the therapy wouldn’t be effective.” Leonard swallows hard. “Helen came to me after a month with the concern that physical symptoms of the trauma were beginning to manifest. Those dreams you have, Jim? She experienced nightmares—vivid ones that began to happen while she was awake,” he says hollowly.

Jim’s hands slip from his shoulders. “You should have told me.”

“I know. My silence only gave her wounds time to eat her alive. I planned to come to you right after that but…”

Leonard doesn’t need to finish, for Jim has surmised the rest: “I had already signed off on Lt. Korro’s transfer to the Farragut.”

“I contacted the Farragut‘s CMO, sent him every scrap of data I had. I tried to reach out to the medical community on New Vulcan too, but it’s no good now,” Leonard reveals. “Korro’s gone. Never showed for her shuttle pickup at Starbase Nine.”

Jim’s face contracts with pain, and Leonard watches him hide his eyes briefly with one hand.

Leonard says guiltily, grief-stricken, “The mistake I made with Korro… I can’t do that again. I won’t. I guess I should tell you this now…” He slides his hands along the front of his pants. “I submitted an investigation request to Starfleet Medical. They’ll decide if I should keep my license or not.”

“Bones,” Jim says, sounding resigned.

“I know,” Leonard murmurs, “but it was the right thing to do. Not that I seem to know much about doing the right thing lately.” It occurs to him, then, that Spock has been silent through the entire recounting of what happened with Korro. He is worried that the commander might try to absorb some of the blame when that should fall squarely on his shoulders for poor decision-making as the ship’s doctor. To this effect, he utters, “You weren’t there, Spock. There was nothing you could have done.”

Spock regards him with an unreadable expression. “Do you know who initiated Lt. Korro’s transfer?”

Jim’s head comes up. However impossible, he looks even more pained.

“I did,” Spock informs McCoy.

Leonard grabs the Vulcan’s wrist, squeezing it without thinking. “You did that? Why? She needed help!”

“I had a meeting with the lieutenant to discuss my concerns over a shift in her work performance.” Spock’s voice roughens for a second. “Had I known…”

“Spock.” Jim reaches for Spock, too, settling a hand on the Vulcan’s forearm above Leonard’s hand. “Spock, you didn’t know.”

“Negative, I should have suspected. Her behavior grew erratic during our discussion. I noted an initial nervousness but that is not an uncommon reaction when I meet with an officer, so I dismissed it. Only when her agitation became… spiteful did I realize she could not tolerate my presence. Comments were made which I shall not repeat. The result of the confrontation was that I gave in to her demand to be released to another ship, as I was rather unappreciative of her unprofessional outbursts. Captain, I submitted that request for transfer to you henceforth—an unacceptable course of action, sir, as I should have more thoroughly investigated the cause of her discomfort first. I will accept your reprimand and any requirement for reparations to be made to Lt. Korro’s family.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Leonard rounds on Jim. “I’m the one responsible. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” Jim interrupts. “Both of you—stop this. Spock, you’re not infallible. Bones, there’s no punishment I could force on you that would be more hellish than the one you are putting yourself through right now. You made a mistake. We all did, and it cost us an officer, possibly a woman’s life.” Jim releases Spock to leave the couch. “We will live with the consequences of that. But make no mistake, gentlemen, I will be following up whenever an attack occurs on one of my crewmen from now on. My failure to do so was my contribution to this.” His gaze touches on McCoy. “Bones, I will cede to Medical’s decision. That doesn’t mean I won’t do my damnedest to sway the outcome beforehand. I told you, and I will tell you again: I need you here.”

He looks at them both for a moment longer, then with a shake of his head skirts the couch to disappear into the privacy of his bedroom.

Leonard props an elbow on his knee and drops his head into his hand. “You shouldn’t have answered my call,” he tells Spock after a minute.

Wordlessly Spock rises from the couch, locking his hands behind his back. “Come, Doctor. There is much to discuss.”

Leonard looks up at him. “About?”

“That which my race rarely shares with those not of our world: what it means to be of Vulcan and a telepath. You must know, for though I hope what occurred with Lt. Korro will not happen again, there is no greater defense or preparation I can give you than knowledge.”

Leonard’s eyes are tear-bright. “Thank you.” He stands up and follows Spock to the cabin’s exit, glancing back only once into the darkened space where Kirk had vanished.

Will Jim come back to finish his dinner? Doubtful. Who could have an appetite after hearing a tale like Leonard’s?

Still, Leonard will slip back into these quarters to clean up later. For now, it’s enough to accept what solace Spock is willing to offer with his companionship, as tonight is certain to be sleepless for all of them.

Okay, this is not what I originally intended. How does it feel when the angst comes out of nowhere to blindside you? That doesn’t mean there aren’t happy times ahead, so bear with me!

Next Part

Related Posts:

• New Light to the Darkness (5/5) – from November 9, 2016
• New Light to the Darkness (4/5) – from October 26, 2016
• New Light to the Darkness (1/4) – from September 19, 2016

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