The Man and the Memory (2/?)

Date:

2

Title: The Man and the Memory (2/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Sequel to The Boy and the Sea Dragon. McCoy wakes up and finds that his world has been turned upside down.
Previous Part: 1


Part One

McCoy finds that he can cope rather well with being clueless. His memory is not completely shot; it is, simply, taking its sweet time to put all the puzzle pieces of his life back together.

There are some things which are not forgotten: likes and dislikes (he likes sleeping on his stomach; he dislikes the thought of floating in the vacuum of space); the taste of good bourbon (there was bottle in the drawer of a desk that is supposedly his, as Chief Medical Officer); and the weight of a tricorder in his hand. Luckily, with the latter comes the medical knowledge that he has apparently spent many, many years cultivating. It is easy enough—and reassuring—to peer at a series of bio-readings and know exactly what the numbers mean, let his brain sift through conditions and treatments, and decide what needs to be done.

Unfortunately, almost everything else is at best vague recollection.

Including his own daughter.

Leonard stares at a holopic of a young blonde-haired girl with his face-shape and the most joyful eyes in the galaxy. He thinks, This is my child, and wonders at the tightening in his chest which has nothing to do with physical pain.

That night, McCoy dreams of her (Joanna, Jojo, sweetheart) and the scent of baby shampoo. Upon waking, he is comforted by a certainty that deep-down the memories of his little girl still exist. He hopes to regain them as quickly as possible.

Then, during a shift he has to idle through since he isn’t allowed to do anything, McCoy walks in on a conversation between Dr. M’Benga and Mr. Spock. They immediately turn as one to stare at him.

Leonard blinks and places a hand against the wall. Why he does that he isn’t sure; he only knows that it helps him feel steady. Deciding not to beat around the bush, McCoy wants to know, “What are y’all arguing about?”

Spock answers readily enough. “If by ‘arguing’ you indicate an intense disagreement, then I must protest the inference, Doctor McCoy.”

Out of nowhere he quips, “Next you’ll be telling me that arguing is illogical.”

Spock parts his lips, as if Leonard has startled him, before saying to M’Benga, “Perhaps your point was valid.”

The corner of M’Benga’s mouth lifts. “Thank you. I do like to think my medical degree isn’t just for show.”

Leonard looks between the two. “So… you were arguing—” He cuts his eyes at Spock. “—about me.”

“Len, Spock and I were discussing an alternative treatment for your memory loss.”

With arms crossed he asks, “What kind of alternative? And why don’t I like the sound of that word?”

M’Benga’s expression is hesitant and that alone sends a chill down McCoy’s spine. In that moment, he is very sure that he would rather not undergo whatever treatment Spock has suggested. So his “No” is clear-cut and final.

The “Doctor…” from Spock is short but lingering, reminiscent of a plea. It strikes a chord in McCoy, somehow, and the knowledge that Leonard has done—or said—something in the past to upset Spock is suddenly irrefutable. But the man cannot work his tongue around a way to ask.

Instead he steps back, letting his arms dangle, and shakes his head. “I’m going to be fine,” he insists. “I keep remembering little things.”

Why doesn’t Spock seem convinced?

He tries harder. “Really, Spock. Why, just this morning, I—” He stops, flails mentally in the gaping emptiness of his memory banks for a significant revelation. Truth be told, he hasn’t had one yet.

Shit.

Why can’t he remember!

And Spock won’t let him get away, won’t publicly defy his request to be left alone but will continue to break down Leonard’s defenses little by little until the hobgoblin wins and…

He blurts out “Hobgoblin!”

A noise escapes M’Benga before the doctor can press his fist against his mouth to keep it in.

“You’re a hobgoblin,” clarifies McCoy with an instinctive smirk.

Spock does not even twitch, simply locks those long-fingered hands behind a rigidly postured back.

“It is improper to insult a fellow officer, Doctor McCoy.”

Oh.

He is about to apologize when Spock adds, “However, given the unfortunate, deficient state of your mind, such transgression can be… forgiven.” With those last words, the Vulcan takes his leave of the two humans.

He has the impression that Spock is pleased. Well, Leonard isn’t! “Forgive and forget my ass! I’m not sorry!” he calls after the Vulcan.

M’Benga finally gives in to laughter and McCoy turns a baleful glare on him. The man manages to say through a bout of chuckling, “God, Len. Some things never change!”

Sleep is elusive. Tomorrow the Enterprise pulls out of orbit and McCoy isn’t certain why he wants a last look at the planet below, but he does. The Observation Deck is deserted late into gamma shift. Leonard settles against the cold pane and sighs.

What was he expecting? That one glimpse would bring all his memories rushing back?

How foolish.

The planet looks harmless from a starship, yet a man named Leonard McCoy was almost killed there. He had been allowed to see his medical logs and had access to the official reports—except that no report has been transmitted to Starfleet. The Captain says there will be time enough to recount the terrible events they have endured.

Christine tells Leonard most of the bare essentials—there was a being (creature, she called it) that they had never encountered before which tried to take over the ship. It had kidnapped the Captain and the First Officer, impersonated them, and almost fatally hurt McCoy.

Why?

The one-word question pounds incessantly through his brain like a drum.

Why?

There is something which no one wants to tell him. He sees it in the shadows of Christine’s face, hears it in the silence of Spock’s presence (the Vulcan finds time to trail him everywhere), and feels that unknown tale in the back of his mind, waiting like a monster to break from the dark and devour him whole.

It must be the reason that McCoy cannot remember. It must be a terrifying truth.

“McCoy.”

His thoughts scatter. McCoy brings a hand up to rub at his temple, unsure of a residual echo in his head.

“McCoy.”

He turns, then, at the very real sound and sees the Captain of the Enterprise standing inside the entrance to the deck. McCoy had not realized he wasn’t alone.

“Captain.”

The man smiles. “Jim, please. I am always Jim.”

Then they must get along. McCoy steps to the side to make room for Jim at the window. “What brings you here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

Leonard shrugs. “Can’t sleep tonight.”

Kirk props a shoulder against the pane, seemingly oblivious to how terribly cold it is. Those eyes are intense in their perusal of McCoy. Jim talks, however, with nonchalance as if they were discussing a trivial matter. “You mustn’t worry about remembering. Every man has trials he wishes to forget.”

Trying to forget that time you walked in your parents in coital bliss is very different than having your brain drop all the pertinent facts of your life into oblivion.

He doesn’t think it would be wise to argue with this James T. Kirk so he settles for switching the subject. “Is it really wise to leave orbit so soon, Jim?”

The man narrows his eyes. “We must.”

“But if we don’t know what happened to that thing—”

“It’s gone,” interrupts the Captain. “I won’t continue to put my crew at risk.”

Those words have a familiar ring. “Yeah, alright.” He rubs absently at his wrist. “I guess I’m just worried. Whatever happened down there—” He gestures to the planet, a mass of swirling deep browns. “—is why I’m such a mess.” He looks at the man watching him. “It feels like the only connection I have.”

Jim is silent for so long that McCoy wonders if he might have overstepped himself by assuming that he could speak so personally to a superior officer. But then Kirk says, “I understand, McCoy. However, your troubles cannot alter what must be.”

The Captain continues to watch him, a dismissal apparent in blue eyes like the Earth’s sky. So McCoy goes, abandoning the Observation Deck with a sinking heart. Much to his surprise, he doesn’t bumble through the corridors like a lost man. His feet—and instinct—carry McCoy down a path that must have been traveled a thousand times in the past. And leaning against the door buzzer does not seem so strange an act at all.

A voice, rapidly becoming familiar, answers with “Enter.”

The door slides back and McCoy steps into sweltering heat. Spock (the Vulcan First Officer, the Hobgoblin) raises an eyebrow.

McCoy grumps easily, “Turn down the heat before I wilt.”

Spock does and waits patiently, eyes still frighteningly dark.

He sighs. “What’s this alternative that I’m probably gonna curse you for afterwards?” He suspects that he has never been good at ice-breakers.

Spock tells him, “Please be seated, Doctor. There is much I must tell you.”

Well, Leonard decides, at least someone on this God-forsaken ship isn’t as tight-lipped as a Cardassian ambassador hoarding war secrets. Spock’s mouth twitches and the man realizes that he literally spoke his mind.

McCoy mumbles and shifts in his seat.

There is a spark in Spock’s eyes which eases frayed nerves. It inspires McCoy to say, without thinking, “I need help.”

“I shall endeavor to assist you, Leonard” is the soft reply.

“Why?”

“I will require your help in return.” Not a direct answer, but one that McCoy can accept. Perhaps Spock understands that any declaration of a relationship—friendship or otherwise—between them is without meaning to McCoy until he has memories to back it up.

Leonard nods. “What do you need?”

“We must find Jim.”

“I don’t think he’s lost, Spock,” McCoy replies with a measure of dry humor. “I talked to him not ten minutes ago.”

“That,” interrupts the Vulcan, “is not Jim.”

Leonard has no comeback and Spock isn’t laughing at the joke.

After a moment of silence, he sucks in a deep breath and jumps in head-first. “I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

When Spock is done, some hours later, a pale McCoy braces his head in his hands and says succinctly, “Fuck me.”

Next Part

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About KLMeri

Owner of SpaceTrio. Co-mod of McSpirk Holiday Fest. Fanfiction author of stories about Kirk, Spock, and McCoy.

2 Comments

  1. weepingnaiad

    *bites nails* I do hope that they can find Jim! But I have confidence! And pray that you won’t continue to be as cruel to them!

  2. dark_kaomi

    How did I miss this? No seriously, how did I miss this?! I am usually so very careful at checking my friends’ list. Damnation. This is winding up to be a very tense and adventurous story. I love that Spock is so worried about Bones. I’m curious to know how the others are faring over Jim’s behavior. I bet they’ve noticed. Eeeee you’ve included M’Benga! So few fics give him a substantial role.

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