#spock’s blank stare is killing me

[jim-kirks-bubble-butt]

“😘😍 💖 mr. spock ✨ 🥰💕 this☝️café 🍽️☕️has women 💃👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩that are so…😐…no 😔 I guess❓not🚫👎.”

[thelordofdarkreunion]

The Misty Planet

Here we go.  By request, a story (or, in this case, story line) where the Scoundrels meet Deus from the Empyrean Iris stories by starr-fall-knight-rise.  Things play out a little differently here, because this time, the Great Game has begun, and there are now more players...

“The game is afoot.”  -Sherlock Holmes

The view from the starship’s bridge was quite the sight to behold.  A massive red star, glowing with power, shone from outside.  The windows were tinted, of course, to allow the individuals inside to see without damaging their vision.  But, mighty as the star was, it was another structure that the individuals were examining.  The second star.  Smaller, but no less beautiful than the first.  This one, though, had strange, alien structures orbiting it.  Which was why the group was here.  

“So.  We’re the bloody universe’s problem solvers, I suppose,” muttered Thomas Drake, itching his nose with the edge of a black-gloved finger.  

“Well, we were the first to make contact with each other and the other galaxies after the… time-screwy thing.  We also prevented the attack on the Citadel, and found out who was behind it,” replied Shepard.  “Still working on finding the Shadow Broker and why he… or she, possibly, would want to kill the members of almost every government in the universe.”  

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  We’ll figure that one out later.  One problem at a time,” sighed Krirk.

“I’m good with that,” said Drake.  “Now.  On to business.  Admiral Vir.  Why the hell are we here?”  Vir walked up to the viewing glass and let out a low sigh.  

“Well, basically, here’s the deal.  My crew and I came to the Polaris star, which most of you ought to recognize as it exists in all of your galaxies except one, and saw this weird, unknown structure on Polaris Ab, the smaller star of the two main ones.  We have also discovered a planet nearby.”  Vir went to a console and pulled up an image, taken from the ground of a strange looking alien wasteland.  He let out a deep breath before going on.  “This was a picture taken on a very similar planet that my crew found in the past.  The two seem to be related.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” muttered Solo.  Cooper gave him a blank stare.  

“Do you ever not?” 

“Occasionally,” huffed Solo.  “When we aren’t going to mysterious planets covered with red mist and big black pillars.”

“I agree.  The whole thing is rather… ominous,” said Shepard.  

“Well, if in doubt, we nuke the whole thing and be done with it,” said Drake.  Vir gave him a long-suffering side glance.  

“No.  We are not going to nuke it,” he said.  “There is too much information at stake.”  He sighed again.  “On that planet, we, or some of my crew and I, received visions of an entity called ‘Deus.’  What Deus is or what it wants we do not know.  However, we believe that these planets are somehow aligned.”  The holographic image changed, showing the Polaris system interlinked with the other strange, red planet, the Drev homeoworld, the Celzex homeworld, and Earth.  “What this place is, who created the massive structure on Polaris Ab, and why these systems are all interlinked is what we are here to find out,” finished Vir.  

“Visions?” asked Cain.  Not good.  Most definitely not good.  

“Yes,” replied Vir.  “Not harmful or long lasting, though.”  The group was silent for a moment, as they decided on how to approach this.  Throughout his career as a ship’s captain, and later, admiral, Vir usually operated on his best judgement.  While occasionally shaky at times, it usually won the day.  However, when wasn’t sure what to do, he usually asked himself one question: what would Captain Kirk do?  Well, Kirk was now here, in the same room, and apparently he didn’t have any clue either.  Might as well find out what he thinks, I suppose.  “Captain Kirk?  You seem to be in these sorts of situations a lot.  What do you think we should do?”  Kirk looked over with a frown.  

“We should investigate,” he said finally.  “I don’t particularly like it, never have, never will, but we have to see what’s going on all the same.”  The group nodded to each other.  

“Cooper and Solo, you stay up here in case anything… funny goes on,” ordered Vir.  The two nodded their consent.  “The rest of us… prepare.  Meet you on these coordinates on planet in 45 minutes.”

Aboard the Apocalypse   

“Right you sorry lot!  We are going planetside to investigate a bunch of alien architecture.  There may or may not be hostiles, but this place gives me the creeps,” announced Drake.  The Third Squad of armsmen looked over to him.  Lucky them.  They drew duty rotation when we’re above disturbing planet central.  “I’ve been around long enough, seen enough, heard enough stories, and watched enough horror movies to know what’s probably going to happen.”  As he said this, a pair of robotic arms locked his armor in place.  The armsmen were gearing up and checking their weapons, but still listening intently.  “You are going to bring full combat gear, full weapons, the works!  The whole works!  Everyone is going to be wearing fully sealed armor, and carry an extra respirator on hand, just in case.  You are also bringing provisions, again, just in case.”  Drake grabbed his plasma rifle and double, then triple checked it.  He then keyed his comms.  “Richter.  Ordelphine.  If for some reason we do not make it back, you are not to send any more soldiers down.  You have full authorizations for Genesis 19 protocols.  Use your best judgement.  I trust you two more than anyone else in this fleet, so do not allow them to override you.  Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”  On the other side of the comms line, Richter and Ordelphine winced.  Genesis 19 was code for the complete nuclear annihilation of anything on a planet deemed to be a threat.  Drake wasn’t taking any chances here, it seemed.  

Aboard the Normandy

Shepard took up a heavy machine gun and checked the ammunition.  This place reminded him too much of old Prothean planets, and the beacons located on them.  The massive black pillars and the visions Vir and his crew got from being near them were too much like the beacon he had touched on Eden Prime…  He still had nightmares about that mission.  This time, he was taking no chances.  Instead of taking a full team with him, he decided to go with what he normally did, and take three ground crew members.  All were carefully selected.  Garrus, because he wouldn’t trust anyone else to have his back as well as the Turian sniper.  Samara.  An ancient Asari biotic.  None more powerful or calm in a crisis.  Lastly, Mordin.  A Salarian scientist.  The only expert he had at the moment who might be able to figure out what these ruins were.  He hoped it would be enough.  

Aboard the Enterprise

Kirk, Spock and Master Chief stood next to the cylindrical grey transporters of the Enterprise.  The two Starfleet officers stood, checking their phasers and respirator masks, making sure nothing would go wrong once they got planetside.  Alongside them were a group of low ranking redshirts (hopefully they wouldn’t die this time, though Kirk was less than hopeful)  and the massive, green-clad figure of the Chief.  Said figure was currently looking over all of his weapons, making sure they were all there and battle ready.  Out of all the Scoundrels, it went without saying that he was the most physically powerful.  It would be his duty to eradicate anything particularly big or nasty they found on the planet.  If, of course, there was actually anything there.  The fleet’s scanners had picked up no life signs, but everyone was still on edge.  Kirk nodded and the group stepped into the transporter.  

“Beam us up, Scotty.”

Aboard the Omen

Commissar Cain leaned against a shuttle in the Omen’s massive hangar bay.  Of course, as the regiment’s champion of all things strange and alien, he had been chosen to lead the surface party.  He couldn’t say no.  How would it look to refuse to partake in a mission of this calibre in front of not only the Valhallans, but the Omen’s crew as well?  He would lose his status if he did.  So, it was with a very heavy heart that he warily donned his tattered set of carapace armor, strapped on his weapons, and made his way to the hangar.  Sargent Grifen was already there, along with her squad.  At least it was Grifen.  Cain had gone through a necron tomb with her squad and lived.  If he trusted anyone in the regiment with this mission, it was her.  And, of course, Jurgen.  Cain’s aide stood by his side, his ever present smell lingering in the air.  In his hands he held his melta gun, a weapon that had saved both their lives on numerous occasions.  Cain was sure Jurgen had other trinkets hidden in his pouches, in addition to the las rifle slung across his back.  Jurgen was ever prepared for anything.  

Cain looked up and over to where Admiral Vir entered the hangar.  He was backed up by a full contingent of marines and members of the Drev clan, followed by a few of the ship’s scientists.  Vir was wearing his suit of Iron Eye armor, fully insulated against the outside atmosphere.  Inside it, he was one of the group’s resident super soldiers, able to perform feats no ordinary person could ever aspire to.  Vir nodded as the Drev came to ease, resting their spears on the floor, and the marines checked their rifles one last time.  

“Let’s get going then, shall we?”

On the Planet

The Omen’s shuttle had landed in some sort of marshland, brackish water reaching up to the group’s shins.  Red mist stretched as far as the eye could see.  Black plants and a few totally black, dead trees littered the ground.  The Milano was parked nearby, on a larger solid stretch of ground, and Quill lounged outside it while his crew looked merely bored at the lack of action on this strange planet.  The Valhallans filed out of the shuttle, looking apprehensive in contrast to the Quill’s boredom and Vir’s excitement over exploring new planets.  A tiled black road led to some sort of black mass in the distance.  A city, if Vir had to guess.  How exciting!

A high whining sound rang out, and Kirk, Spock, and Master Chief teleported in alongside a contingent of Starfleet red-shirts.  The Chief stood statue still, weapons ready, as the Starfleet operatives joined the crew of the Omen in examining the black plant life that dotted the ground and the spaces in between the road tiles.  

The roar of shuttle engineers pierced the air, and the Normandy’s sleek shuttle made its descent alongside the Apocalypse’s heavy gunship transport.  Shepard, Garrus, and two aliens Vir and Cain didn’t recognize stepped out of the first, while Drake and a full contingent of armsmen.  

One of Shepard’s crew, a Salarian, by the looks of him, made a b-line to the scientists examining the plants, while Shepard and the other two greeted Quill.  The Apocalypse’s armsmen disembarked quickly, weapons at the ready as if they were on an active battlefield.  Drake made a circular motion to the shuttle pilot, who gave a thumbs up and immediately took off.  Drake approached Cain and gave a curt nodd.   

“This is your galaxy, Vir, so you’re in charge, but I don’t like the looks of this place.  I don’t want to spend a second longer here than I need to.”  Cain nodded.

“I agree.  This reminds me too much of some of the… stranger things I’ve seen.”  Vir pointed to the buildings on the horizon.  

“I understand,” he said reassuringly.  “Plus, we need to investigate that way anyway.  Let's move on.”  Vir made a motion to the scientists still crouched along the beginning of the pathway.  Dr. Wilson, one of the Omen’s scientists, looked up and held out a vial of the black plant.

“These are all dead.  But they’re remarkably well preserved…”

“Wilson is right.  Planet is dead.  Was once alive, but now everything here is lifeless.  Strangely well preserved, though,” rattled off the Salarian, almost without any breaths.  

“I’m liking this less and less,” muttered Cain.

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The group had walked the long titled road in silence, the red mist swirling around them.  At one point, there was a rain storm, and Vir had ordered everyone inside one of the decayed buildings they had finally reached.  Everyone had taken it differently.  Shepard and his crew looked apprehensive.  The crews of the Omen and Enterprise were looking over everything with curiosity.  Master Chief, Drake, Cain, the Valhallans, and the Apocalypse’s armsmen were fanned out, weapons raised, clearing corners and rooms as if they were expecting something to pop out of the dark any minute.  Quill and his Guardians merely looked bored.  Again.  

They had moved on further since then, into the city itself.  Huge black buildings, in varying states of decay, loomed ominously through the fog.  The scientists were all muttering to each other as the took readings, while the soldiers had all unconsciously moved into wedge formations.  Drake’s gunship whined overhead, ready to provide close air support at his request.  Some might have called it overkill and over-caution, but Drake hadn’t lived this long by not taking such measures.  

At this point, Vir was starting to get creeped out.  Everything here was… wrong, somehow.  It was like a faint childhood memory that one knew they remembered, but couldn’t actually remember.  The place was… familiar.  Sacred, somehow.  In addition, it was a decayed city with no signs of life, and no signs of what had happened to it.  

“Anyone know what might have happened here?” he whispered to the rest of the group.  Somehow, it felt wrong to raise his voice.  

“No.  Not the Borg’s style,” replied Kirk.  

“Reapers would have been more thorough,” whispered back Shepard.  

“I have no idea…” trailed off Cain.  In actuality, he had a few ideas.  None of them good.  None of them he could say, either.  

They came to a central spot, the roads all branching into what looked to be a main square.  A large building rose up in front of them, looking distinctly human in style.  

“Should we investigate?” asked Shepard.  

“Yes, and no,” replied Drake.  “I think some of us should stay here, outside, to make sure no one attacks our rear, while others go inside to investigate.”

“That makes… tactical sense,” replied Vir with a nodd.  “Alright.  Quill and Chief, along with some of the Enterprise’s crew and Valhallans, stay here.  The rest of you, follow me.”  

The building, as it turned out, was some sort of massive laboratory.  There were test tubes of strange, glowing liquid, some form of massive, incomplete mech hanging on calves, and endless rows of filing cabinets.  There were huge factory floors, complete with conveyor belts, all decayed and rusted into ignominy, and rooms filled with rows upon rows of vats of sludge.  With every passing room, the entering group got more and more apprehensive.  What the hell is this place?  What were they doing?  Vir wanted to yell.  It was all so very strange.  So very… creepy.  

This went on for some time, the invaders of this strange sanctum touching nothing, until they got to a central room.  The heavy blast doors that should have protected it were open.  Not a good sign.  In the center of the room was a pedestal, and upon the pedestal, a glowing white ball.  

“Safeties off,” hissed Drake.  “If there’s an ambush coming, now’s as good a time as any.”  Vir, Wilson, Kirk, and Shepard walked up to the ball. 

“What the hell is this?” asked Shepard warily.

“I don’t know,” replied Vir.  “Maybe… some sort of artifact?  Communication device?  No clue.”  Wilson reached out.  

“Don’t touch it!” screamed Cain and Shepard as one.  It was too late.  As soon as Wilson’s skin made contact with the glowing ball, a blast of pure white energy rang throughout the room, knocking everyone off their feet.  Soldiers flew in tangles of weapons, and scientists stumbled and knocked into walls.

Cain slid on the floor, and shook his head a moment to clear it of the force the ball had unleashed.  He looked around.  The Valhallans stood up, checking their weapons to make sure they were still working.  Shepard’s team stood up, Garrus bringing his rifle around and Samara glowing with blue energy.  Kril and the Salarian scientist stood up.  Rigaldis, leader of the Apocalypse armsmen, pushed himself to his feet.  All of the aliens were fine.  All of the Imperial humans were fine.  But the rest, the other humans…  Cain checked Shepard’s neck for a pulse.  It was there.  They were all alive, but completely unconscious.  

“What the hell was that?” asked one of the Valhallans.  

“Don’t know,” murmured Cain as he studied the unconscious humans.  With a suddenness that caused the medic checking him to recoil, Vir’s one organic eye snapped open.  It looked straight ahead, completely unseeing, and seemed to have an incandescent white glow about it.  The medic waved his hand in front of Vir.  He didn’t blink.  

“Deus…” he murmured, before falling once more into unconsciousness.  Everyone looked around uneasily.  

“What do we do?” asked one of the red shirts. 

“Don’t touch that,” Cain pointed at the white orb, “But bring them outside.  We can’t leave them here.”  

Outside was calm, or, as calm as a planet filled with roiling red fog could be.  Quill and Master Chief walked up to the group, noticing the bodies flung across many of the soldiers’ backs.  

“What the hell happened?” asked the Chief.  

“One of the scientists touched some sort of strange white orb,” replied Cain.  “It knocked them all unconscious.”

“We noticed some sort of burst of white energy,” said Quill.  “Didn’t know what it was.  Now we do, I guess,” he added with a shrug.  

“What do we do now?” asked the Chief once more.  

“It’s a strange, alien artifact, and they seem to be… possessed,” replied Cain.  He didn’t want to say it, but there was no avoiding it.  All of the unconscious humans had a white glow around their eyes.  

“Hmm,” muttered Quill.  “Possessed… I think I know someone who might be able to help us here,” he announced after a moment’s deliberation.  “I’ll send a message to him.”  

“I need to send a message too,” said Cain.  “We need to call in the experts.”

Stay tuned, because next time, the experts will arrive, and things are about to get pretty cool...

As per usual, none of these characters except Drake and his crew belong to me.  If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, requests, or concerns, please, feel free to ask!

[marlinspirkhall]

Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 08: “Tomorrow”

Chapter Word Count:

[Chapter 7] [Chapter 8 (final)]

[Front Cover] [Chapter 1] [AO3 Link]

 There’s a gap in the front of the shuttle where one of the monitors used to be, but Spock doesn’t allow himself to get distracted by it.

 He follows the familiar steps laid out in their previous escape attempts, and, this time, steers clear of the area of space where the Section-31 ships await. Leland’s original orders were to rendezvous with Georgiou’s ship, but the war between Starfleet and the Klingons isn’t his business anymore, and he already knows he won’t be welcomed back to the organisation. He keeps flying towards the former neutral zone- as neutral as you can get in this quadrant anyway- until his eyes begin to droop. It’s as if the accumulated weight of all his nights without meditation were suddenly weighing down on him.

 Plans will need to be made- perhaps he can pass himself off as a Romulan- but, for now, he heads towards the back of the shuttle, and settles on the cold, hard shelf. Now that there’s nothing to distract himself from the fact he’s escaped, he tries not to focus on the how. And yet, it’s hard not to miss the steady chatter of Jim’s heart, or mind. Jim, his heart says. Jim, Jim, Jim.

 He settles on the cold, hard shelf at the back of the shuttle, and, for the first time in an eternity, falls into a deep, meditative rest.

 Alone.

 When Spock wakes on a familiar, soft mattress, he doesn’t immediately question it. But, a second later, his eyes snap open, and he sits bolt upright.

 The familiar, worn walls of the stronghold surround him.

 Jim was wrong, he thinks, despairingly. There’s no way out.

 He runs his hands along the soft duvet, and footsteps scamper downstairs.

 Jim is alive.

 He shoots out of bed, and takes the stairs two steps at a time, each punctuated by a metal clunk. He glances at the sofa expectantly, but Jim isn’t there. He doesn’t appear to be anywhere in the hall; though-

 A thin line of blood leads into the downstairs bathroom.

 He falters.

 “I guess I’ll never really know for sure, because you won’t remember it, and I won’t even see it coming.”

 Jim’s voice is emanating from the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, and he stops outside it, heart thumping.

 “… But, if you’re listening to this right now, then there’s really only one answer-”

 “Jim?” He pushes his way in, and tenses as he takes in the bloodstains, the frenzied scrawl. Jim’s voice is coming from a pre-recorded message on a monitor, which Spock recognises from the shuttle.

 “- You need to get out there, and…” He looks into the camera. “You know what you have to do.”

 Spock backs out of the room as panic grips his chest. “Jim?” He shouts.

 The air is filled with a faint whistling sound. He whirls around.

 The realisation, and the crossbow arrow, hit him at the same time.

 “Ah!” He raises his hand, and another arrow to lodges itself in his palm. The world spins, and he grunts with pain.

 He has just enough sense to dodge the next arrow, and slams himself into the wall. “Immensely… Logical, Jim,” he hisses, and struggles to pull the arrow out with a grunt. “You didn’t kill Leland yesterday, did you? You only… knocked him out.” He grits his teeth and attempts to snap the end of the arrow off.

 A creak. Spock throws himself to the floor as another arrow flies past.

 “Stop shooting at me!”

 He grips his injured hand limply, and breathes heavily. “Do you know the first thing I felt, when I woke up?”

 Another arrow. Spock crawls around the corner for refuge. “I was-” an arrow flies past, and he tucks his legs in. “- Relieved, that you weren’t dead,” he wheezes.

 A loud thud, followed by silence. Perhaps he has run out of arrows.

 “Jim?”

 Footsteps. He catches his breath and waits, listening to every slow, deliberate step.

 The footfalls are too heavy to be Jim’s. Which means-

 He shuffles backwards, and a tall figure steps around the corner; wielding the half-filled phaser Spock had discarded yesterday.

 “Leland,” Spock breathes.

 He stuns him.

 “… Don’t want to lie to him.”

 Jim’s voice.

 “Which is why I’m going to offer him a solution...”

 Spock peeks out from under his eyelashes. Leland is standing a few metres away, holding the bloodstained monitor.

 “… You know what you have to do.”

 The message ends, and Leland turns. Spock opens his eyes. He’s by the far wall, a short distance from the fireplace. Jim is slumped in front of it with his arms tied behind his back.

 His hand has been wrapped in a familiar, plaid fabric, and the arrow has been removed from his hand. It still throbs, painfully. His hands are bound loosely in front of him, but his legs are free. Unlike Jim, he is gagged; perhaps with the rest of the fabric. He stares up at Leland, groggily.

 “I bandaged it.” Leland says. His lip curves upwards. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

 Spock stirs, sluggish from the phaser blast, and Leland steps closer.

 “According to this-” he holds up the blood-stained monitor, and leers at him. “- You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been killed yet. Is that true?” He crouches beside him, and Spock turns his head away, averting his gaze. Leland grabs his jaw roughly, forcing him to face him as he examines his face for the slightest flicker of emotion. He stares ahead. He tries to keep his face impassive, but Leland always could read him better than most.

 He blinks, and Leland laughs. “Isn’t that interesting,” he murmurs. He leans in a little closer, so his lips graze his ear. “I bet you’re so tired,” he says, breath hot. “That eidetic memory… You can remember it all, can’t you? Every miserable day-”

 Spock flinches away, but Leland tuts, and places the dagger under his chin. “Come on, Spock. That’s a lot of blood on your hands. Don’t you just want it to end? No?”

 Spock keeps his gaze trained on him.

 He leers. “I guess Vulcans don’t have a guilty conscience. You’ve killed both of us more times than you can count. Well,” he amends, “Perhaps you can count them. You’ve always been good at that-”

 “Leave him alone,” Jim croaks.

 Leland rises again. “You’re sure that’s what you want? I mean, he did kill you, multiple times.”

 “So did you.”

 “True,” Leland shrugs. “But he killed you, right after you’d promised to love each other forever and ever, right?” His voice is high and mocking, and Jim struggles against his bonds.

 “You weren’t there,” he grunts.

 Leland grins. “Technically, neither were you. And we already know how that pact turned out.” He grasps Spock’s injured hand, and lifts it up.

 “Leland-”

 “- What’s the objection? You had the right idea earlier. Do you just want to kill him yourself? That’s very selfish of you, James.” He tuts. “After all, I should get dibs.” He squeezes his hand suddenly, and Spock cries out, the sound muffled.

 Leland stares at him, eyes wide, and turns to Jim. “You’ve ruined my Vulcan!” He laughs to himself. “Still, there’s time to correct that.” He strokes Spock’s hand, almost gentle, though each movement is still enough to cause pain.

 Spock narrows his eyes at him, and flinches away, but Leland holds him steady.

 “Now, Spock,” he murmurs. “I can keep you both here for as long as I like, and make you pay for every single time you killed me. Still, I could always reset you.” He retrieves a dagger from his belt. “There were some very interesting things in the basement this morning- well-hidden, James, but not enough.”

 He barely glances over his shoulder, and Spock exhales. Leland has eyes only for him, and he knows with a terrible certainty that he intends to make him suffer. As if reading his thoughts, Leland places the dagger under Spock’s chin. “How about we give him a turn first? It’s up to you, James. I mean… You- well, he-” He taps the monitor screen. “- Seemed fairly adamant that you wanted him dead.”

 “Screw you,” Jim hisses.

 “Shame,” Leland discards the monitor, and it shatters on the floor. “That version of you actually had some balls. If you hadn’t tried to kill me so much, we might have got along.”

 “Maybe that’s why we would have got along,” Jim hisses. Spock breathes shallowly, his chest suddenly constricted, and wills Jim to stop antagonising him; but, of course, they are not bonded. With a sudden pang, he wonders if they will ever be able to bond again.

 “Maybe,” Leland acknowledges. “Still, I intend to get out of here. Once I attend to our… Unfinished business.”

 “Leland-”

 “Shush. I’ll get round to you later. But, for now-”

 He cuts the gag away, though there’s no chance of him speaking. He remembers what it was like before. Anything he says will make it worse. He calls, desperately, on all the skills he hasn’t employed in a while. He makes his face slack, and lets his mind go blank. But, yesterday was the closest he had come to a successful meditation session in a while, and Leland is studying him with nothing short of glee.

 “You know, it’s a shame you killed that other version of James,” Leland murmurs. “Once you betrayed him, I bet he would have wanted to stay, and watch me kill you over, and over and over.”

 Jim sits deadly still, his eyes wide, but Spock can see his arms twitching behind his back, as if reaching for something. Hope flares in his chest, but he clamps down on the feeling, attempting to martial his emotions.

“But, seeing as I only need to kill you once, let’s make it count, hmm?” He runs his fingers across Spock’s meld points, and sends fleeting visions of everything he plans to do to them. Spock closes his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts. When that fails, he recalls an image of Leland’s own, broken body, lying at the bottom of the ravine. Leland snatches his hand away.

“Congratulations,” He growls. “Now you’ve made me angry.” He raises the dagger.

Spock kicks out at him with a grunt, but Leland side-steps him easily.

 “Surely you remember your training?” He hisses, gripping Spock’s chin. “That’s no way to behave towards a superior officer-”

Spock snaps at his hand, and Leland slams his head against the wall. Jim yells something

“I think James wants to watch the show,” Leland sings. He grips Spock’s hair this time, near the scalp. Grinning, he tilts his head back to expose his neck, and Spock’s breathing quickens. Leland presses the dagger to his throat.

“I said, let him go, asshole,” Jim growls. His voice sounds closer than before, but Spock doesn’t dare tear his gaze away from Leland’s.

“You disappoint me, James,” Leland sighs. “You’d want revenge, if you weren’t weak.”

“Maybe I am,” Jim says. “But there’s one thing I didn’t mention in that recording.”

The knife breaks the skin, and Spock can feel blood beading around the cut.

“And what’s that?” Leland hisses, never breaking eye contact.

 Behind him, Jim gets to his feet silently.

“There’s a knife in my pocket.”

 The pressure vanishes from Spock’s throat.

Leland turns too late. Jim stabs him in the side, but it’s not deep enough; it can’t be. Spock has seen this before; at the very start of the time-loop: without his memories, Jim’s skill in hand-to-hand combat is no match for Leland’s. He strains against the ropes which are holding him- he’d be able to break them, if his hand wasn’t injured. As it stands, all he can do is stare. A thin trickle of blood runs down his neck.

“Jim, be careful!” He pleads.

Jim dodges Leland’s first strike, and pulls the knife out. They struggle. Leland grasps Jim’s wrist, and attempts to force his hand back, but Jim knees him in the stomach.

Leland lands a glancing blow to his shoulder, and Jim sucks in his breath. He knocks Leland’s arm out of the way, driving the knife into his arm, and Leland bellows angrily as he drops the dagger. Jim loses his grip on his own weapon, and Leland tears at it. Blood gushes from his forearm as he rips it free, painting his arm red. With a yell, he swipes at Jim with his left-hand, as a dark stain spreads on the side of his torso. Jim dives for the dagger, and Leland pins him to the ground, swiping at him. Jim grasps the dagger, and kicks Leland off momentarily, the two of them moving faster than Spock can keep track of.

They struggle together until Leland falls to the ground, and doesn’t get up.

“Fuck.” Jim sits up, trembling, and disentangles himself from the body. Leland’s blood is smeared across his face in places, so the damage isn’t immediately apparent.

 But Jim’s breathing is laboured.

 “Jim?” Spock whispers.

“Spock…” Jim’s voice wavers. He clutches a hand across his stomach, and looks down at it, dazed. “Oh…”

 He falls sideways.

Spock rushes over. Both blades lie on the floor beside them, covered in blood. It isn’t clear which one caused the fateful blow. He reaches for the knife, and cuts the ropes from his arms clumsily, and reaches for Jim.

 When he touches him, Jim grits his teeth, and gestures to the wound.

 “It’s- bad,” he twitches.

 “No,” Spock pulls his head onto his lap, gently, and places a hand over his forehead. “I can help.”

 “No-”

 “Let me help.”

“Spock.” He shakes his head. “You can’t prolong it ‘til sundown. It’s okay. It was…” He grunts. “My fault.”

“Jim-”

 He places a kiss against his injured wrist, and blinks up at him. “I’m sorry for… shooting you,” he wheezes. “That was a… Stupid thing to do.” He smiles shakily, and tears well in his eyes as he clutches his side.

 “You were just following your own advice” Spock replies, as Jim gives a soft chuckle, and winces.

 “It was- bad advice,” he hisses. “Too- open to interpretation.” He places a hand to Spock’s face gently. “I’m glad I got to love you. I only wish that I could remember any of it.”

Spock shakes his head. “In your condition, an influx of memories of that volume would kill you.”

Jim places Spock’s hand against his face, and laughs weakly. “Spock,” he coughs, “I’m dying anyway.”

Spock hesitates, but Jim nuzzles into his palm. ‘Didn’t want to hurt you,’ he thinks, as he brushes his fingers against Spock’s cheek.

 “It’s okay, if you won’t show me. I know I loved you,” he hacks up blood. “But- who you love... That’s your own business.” Perhaps it’s intended to be vitriolic, but, he almost sounds sincere. Serene. He smiles, and nudges his forehead to Spock’s palm. “Go ahead,” he whispers. “It’s OK.”

 “Jim.” Spock surveys his injuries, and knows, from all the other times he’s watched him die, that he won’t survive.

 ‘I shouldn’t have killed Leland,’ Jim thinks. ‘That was- clumsy. I should have kept him alive so we could regenerate, but… Now… You leave.’

 Spock strokes his hair. He concentrates, broadcasting an outpouring of love and affection into his mind, as Jim’s eyes flutter closed.

 Ashayam, stay with me.

 He despairs. He was a fool. He should have spent a little longer cherishing the chance to cradle Jim like this. They could have had eternity. Now, they have only moments. He understands now, far too late, the full depths of what Jim had offered. It is a rare thing, to have a t’hy’la. He should have know, every time they dispatched Leland, that they were only strengthening it: a warrior’s bond. And, although he knows it’s useless, he delves deeper into Jim’s dying mind, triggering that familiar spark, as a bond forms between them for the final time. Spock lets go, pouring his memories into him. Jim relaxes, his breathing levelling out, and Spock strokes his hair.

 You are… incandescent.

 Jim stirs.

 As are you.

 He remains close to him for many hours, sustaining his life-force for as long as he can, as the buzz of Jim’s mind shrinks, and dims.

 Spock closes his eyes, and collapses back against the wall, cradling him. Yesterday’s euphoria is long gone.

 He drifts to sleep, no longer interested in escaping- not now. He’d be content to rot here forever, with a thousand identical corpses.

 He dreams of Vulcan. He walks across the dark sands, warmer than he’s been in a while, but oh so weighed down by guilt.

 Red light floods through the windows, and Spock’s eyes flutter open. For a moment, he can almost believe he’s back on Vulcan, the glare from the red sands unbearable in first-light, but the moment passes. He frowns, so used to waking to clear skies and mid-morning light that he almost doesn’t recognise the phenomenon.

 Dawn.

 Spock’s hand aches. He raises it. It hasn’t healed, of course. The bandages are soaked through, but the bleeding has stopped. It has been so long since his injuries lasted that he is almost grateful for it.

 “We made it,” he says, with a cracked voice. He glances down at Jim; so peaceful he could almost be sleeping. He looks over to Leland, half-expecting him to move, but neither of them do. His gaze drifts.

 Leland is lying in a puddle of blood, but most of Jim’s has seeped into Spock’s clothing, half-dried against his skin. Slowly, he eases Jim to the ground, and places him gently on his side.

 You should move, a distant part of his mind whispers, but it’s a small part, and he is too numb to process it. Whatever it is, it doesn’t speak again. He desperately needs water; thirsty like he hasn’t been in a long time- but, still, he sits. He welcomes the discomfort: as proof that he’s made it through, and, as punishment.

 I have killed my t’hy’la and my friend.

 His gaze drifts.

 The ground outside is waterlogged and muddy: for the first time, it’s covered in rainfall from the storm. As the sun rises, a slightly larger spacecraft sets down beside the shuttle, and he closes his eyes. For a moment, there is silence. The perfect conditions to meditate; though it’s been so long, he’s almost forgotten how.

 Voices, getting nearer.

 He reaches a hand out to Jim, and, trembling a little, pulls back.

 Footsteps on the balcony. The door opens with a rattle.

 He looks up.

 Two figures are silhouetted against the light; a section-31 agent he doesn’t recognise, and-

 “Why is the Klingon defence grid still active?”

 Phillipa Georgiou. Her hair is dishevelled, and she steps into the hall. “The attack is in five hours, Leland. This is sloppy, even for you-”

 She stops.

 Spock leans his head against the wall, and says nothing.

 “What… Happened?” Says the unknown agent; as they take in the carnage.

 Georgiou crosses the room in two, quick steps, and nudges Leland’s body with her foot. “Shame,” she laments. “I always wanted to be the one to kill him.” Her gaze turns to Spock. “Still,” she cocks her head, and her phaser, “I should probably thank you for sparing me the trouble.”

 Spock allows himself a small, thin smile. “Trouble?” He murmurs. “You have no idea.”

 Georgiou stares at him, then fiddles with the settings on the phaser. “Then again; you could have waited until after your mission was complete to do it.”

 “It was never going to be done,” Spock says, as he watches the phaser. He’s almost relieved. It’ll be quick.

 “Well, Spock-” She nods to the agent, who backs out of the room. “- Thank you for nothing. I’ll see you in hell.”

 “Perhaps.” He chuckles. “Or, maybe…”

 He presses his forehead to the cool metal, still laughing, and she frowns at him.

 “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]

[dreamthinkimagine]

Dinosaurs

WARNING: Predator/Prey relationship

WARNING: Mention of getting eaten

WARNING: Mention of possible death

For @the-spooky-lee because she was so patient with my last fic that took me thousands of years to write

The credits rolled on the screens of the three-sided computer in the break room. Spock stared at his screen, his mouth agape, cold, and his mind practically blank. His mind - Spock’s mind.

“I love that movie,” Jim said as he shut off the computer. “Is there a problem, Spock?” Spock had to shake his mind from it’s empty void to respond.

“No, Captain. The illogic displayed in the film is most illogical.”

“How?” Bones cut in.”If dinosaurs were still around, some of them would most certainly eat people! They were carnivores, we’re meat. It’s nature. How is that illogical?”

“I think I’ll return to my quarters.”

“Good night,” Kirk said as he watched Spock walk out the door.

“If I’d known sooner that dinosaurs freak him out, I would’ve brought them up a long time ago.”

“This is serious, Bones. I’m worried about Spock.”

“I know. And well...he gets on my nerves, but I’m worried too.”

“I shouldn’t have made him watch the movie.”

“Now don’t go blaming yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known he, of all people, would react like that.”

“There’s got to be a way to show him dinosaurs aren’t an issue.”

“Well, what do you think we should do about it?”

***

Illogical thoughts filled Spock’s head. Dinosaurs weren’t real. Just something for film...right? Heart pounding against his ribs, he stood from his bed. Holding his breath, he shuffled to the computer, keeping himself cloaked with his blanket and said, “Computer, search dinosaurs.”

Spock’s temperature dropped as he looked upon the photographs of fossils from the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex. Those powerful jaws and massive teeth that Spock knew without a shadow of an illogical doubt would be able to take his arm off in one bite. He shivered at the sight of the remains of a Brontosaurus. The size. The sheer size. What could have a fighting chance against it?

Everything changed when he laid eyes on the bones of a Spinosaurus skeleton.The skull that was as long as he was tall with what looked like pressure sensors - to feel where prey was instead of seeing. That tail perfect for propelling itself in the water. Powerful legs for the land. Once he was able to properly process claws on the end of its arms, he slammed the power button on his computer, breaking it.

Now it wasn’t just a story anymore. Dinosaurs had been real. Not even the Vulcan nerve pinch would be able to save him against these beasts.

“An asteroid,” Kirk said. He was so engulfed in thought, that he didn’t hear his door open. “65,000,000 years ago, an asteroid crashed into Earth and wiped out all the dinosaurs. They’re gone, Spock. They’re all gone.”

“So you can calm down now.”

“Why would you think that I am acting illogical,” Spock asked. “That assumption itself is quite illogical.”

“Well, for one you have that blanket wrapped around you; you green blooded -.”

“I was cold.”

“The power button on your computer screen is destroyed. Were you looking at dinosaurs?”

“That is irrelevant.”

“What about the fact that your lights are on? Is that ‘irrelevant’?”

“I needed them on to navigate my way to the computer.”

“You left as soon as the credits played, Spock.” Spock stood there before them in silence, trying to wrack his brain for a good excuse. Alas, there was none. “It’s alright, Spock. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

“Now I’m a Doctor and not a psychologist, but maybe some role play would help. Let him know that dinosaurs are simply nothing to be afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could all act like the dinosaurs in the movie? I know it’s childish, but if he sees us do it, it might take his mind off the intensity of the movie.” Spock and Kirk stared at him in silence, expressions blank.

“...Interesting theory, Doctor.”

“It worked with Joanna when she was afraid of dinosaurs.” They still stared at him. “Or we could try something else.”

“Spock,” Kirk said. “An asteroid wiped them out, remember? There’s no way one can hurt you. I hate to say this, but, your fear is...illogical.”

“I am not afraid.”

“We were just over this, you - ”

“Bones.”

“Well if he keeps insisting that he’s not, I say we leave him here. We’re clearly wasting his time.”

“Perhaps that would best.”

“Agreed. Coming, Jim?”

“...Captain.” Jim heard and understood that through the low tone in Spock’s voice that he was being asked to leave. Jim rose and followed Bones out of the room without a word, leaving Spock to himself.

“Think he’s OK, Bones?”

“I don’t know, but he obviously doesn’t want our help right now.”

“We’ll try again tomorrow,”

“I’ll be there.”

***

The next day, Spock was able to keep his composure for all to see - all except Jim. He could read that half-Vulcan like a book and was easily able to see the subtle changes. How Spock's muscles were always braced. How he spent most of his time staring at one monitor. He knew he needed to do something and fast.

Jim spent his dinner in front of his computer screen searching for a documentary he had seen years before. Spock was a scientific mind, so he had to show him something scientific...right? As the computer played the first scene, Jim jumped out of his chair. He memorized the name and jetted down the hall to Sickbay. But on the way, he ran into Spock.

"Spock! I need you to come with me!" No time to get Bones now.

"Captain?" Kirk pulled him into the break room, and began talking to the computer. As Spock wondered what was happening, he suddenly saw a Spinosaurus on the screen and stared at it. Mind blank. The screen suddenly cut to an asteroid hurling through space, with Earth nowhere in sight. Kirk watched him for the whole documentary. And it didn't help; Spock hadn't even moved until the credits rolled. If the scientifically established fact that dinosaurs were extinct didn't mean anything to him, then it had to be something else. Kirk thought for a moment.

The Gorn. That thing looked like a dinosaur and Spock had seen it attack Kirk. Now it all made sense, Spock wasn’t so much afraid for himself as he was for his own Captain.

“Spock, you know we’re probably not going to have to fight a dinosaur?”

“...You must be prepared...Jim.”

“I don’t think I was prepared with the Gorn, but I came out okay.”

“Preparation increases one’s chances of survival. But even with that, survival is never guaranteed.” The next thing Kirk did caught Spock rather by surprise; he’d never expected Jim to place his arm around him.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. How about this, if I train a little more often, will you calm down?”

“I cannot calm down when there is no need to as I do not have your Earth emotions.”

“Of course, Mr. Spock,” he said and gave his side a squeeze, causing Spock to jump at the sensation. "You know, Spock, I'm not the only one who needs to be prepared for a fight." With that, he squeezed his side again, forcing Spock to jump. "Let's start now!" Suddenly Spock was under a vicious tickle attack with Kirk going rampant on his sides squeezing up and down, up and down. Spock jumped out of his trap and raised his arms up to his ribs, ready to defend himself. “C’mon, Spock,” he said. “I’m a James Tiberisaurus Rex. You’re a Spockosaurus, like the Spinosaurus in the documentary.”

Spock froze at the names.

“Spock, I can’t train to fight anything like a dinosaur without a dinosaur to fight.” Spock thought for a moment.

“Logical, Captain. Perhaps you could attempt to escape from this.” The “unemotional” response scared Jim, especially when Spock wrapped his arms around his ribs and pulled him closer. “Spinosaurus, unlike Tyrannosaurus Rex, used their claws to kill their prey.” With that, Spock started gently scraping his “claws” over the Captain’s ribs.

Bones was walking down the hall when he heard the screech and booming laughter. His curiosity getting the better of him, he made his way towards the break room. The door opened and he smirked victoriously. What he saw was a laughing Kirk with Spock digging into his belly and Kirk using his pointer and middle fingers on each hand, kind of like a T. Rex he noticed, to get at Spock’s underarms. He chuckled.

“Well, well, well,” Bones said, gaining their attention and putting a halt to their tickle fight. “I told you a little role play would work.” Kirk and Spock looked at each other.

“Look Spock, it’s a Boneseosaurus; like a Brontosaurus, except, this one’s ticklish.”

“Fascinating.” They each took a step forward and like the two carnivorous dinosaurs they were mimicking, worked together to take down the herbivore dino - the Spockosaurus pulled while the James Tiberisaurus Rex pushed at their prey. Once the Boneseosaurus was taken down, they relished in their feast.

“Wahahahahait,” Bones cried as Spock clawed at his stomach, and Kirk used his fingers to scratch his neck. After that, Kirk kept his promise to train more often and Spock found himself not fearing dinosaurs anymore. He even took up an interest in the prehistoric reptiles. And, while he never told anyone, he kept three small plastic ones hidden away in his Quarters only for him to see. A Brontosaurus, a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and a Spinosaurus.  

[hurt-spock]

Hollow

“Uhura, I'm really sorry. Would you like me to get one of the female nurses?”

Nyota Uhura lay on the bed in a private room on the Enterprise, her hands over her swollen stomach. She shook her head. “What happened?”

McCoy took one of her hands in his own. “You didn't do anything wrong. It was just one of those things. No one's to blame.”

They sounded like tired cliches that all doctors pulled out in this kind of situation, she thought. “Spock?”

“I haven't called him down yet, I wanted to speak to you first. I can break the news for you if you want?”

She went to answer before realising she didn't know what she wanted.

Could she face Spock and his blank, emotionless face? She loved him, she truly did, but he had been odd since she had found out she was pregnant. He hadn't been unsupportive exactly. In fact, he had done anything he could to support her and make sure she and the baby were healthy. He just didn't seem happy about it. She knew how he hid his joy and excitement as a Vulcan, knew all the tells that said, secretly, he was happy, and he hadn't been doing them. So, this loss, wouldn't be hard on him. She was certain. He'd be sad for her because he knew that she had been excited. Her mind was made up. “Would you? I don't think I'm ready to face him yet.”

“Of course I will. He will probably want to see you. Do you want me to give you some time?” She nodded. Smiled and cried at the same time. “Can I get anyone to be here with you?”

“Katie?” she said, hopeful.

“Wallis?” McCoy double-checked. He recalled seeing the women together fairly frequently. At Uhura's confirmation, he nodded. “Okay, I'll take care of it all for you. I'll give you some time and I'll come back and check on you soon.”

“Thank you,” she said.

As he closed the door and left her alone, she broke into sobs.

~

McCoy waited impatiently for Spock to arrive.

Spock was punctual and efficient but waiting for him to arrive, McCoy felt like he was the slowest being who lived. McCoy was certain that whatever task had been doing at the time, he hadn't bothered to stop and he'd continued it, to its completion, probably wrote a report about it too, maybe even had some lunch and then he'd left to see McCoy.

McCoy let out a huff. He was frustrated. Not with Spock but at the anxiety he had about telling Spock what had happened. He didn't know how he would take it. Spock and death seemed to go hand in hand since McCoy had known him. His mother, the majority of his race, Jim, Ambassador Spock. He needed a break from it, not yet another death.  

Bones and Spock had an antagonistic relationship. Those on the outside who didn't know them often took it as dislike for one another. Kirk said they were more like brothers. They sometimes didn't know their own limits and when to stop pushing one another's buttons.

McCoy knew that he could be an easy target for Spock. He had a number of things that seemed to trigger him. Spock, for the most part, didn't start things but he could say something that McCoy disagreed with easily enough. Spock dealt in cold hard facts. Or, calm logic, as Kirk would call it. But despite the logic, superior intellect and everything else he had going for him, Spock did still have his own buttons that could be pushed. The latest one McCoy had only recently discovered. He knew Vulcan's lived longer than humans, easily double the length of time but he hadn't considered that Spock was still considered a teenager to Vulcan's. He'd have had more fun with it if it didn't seem to be something that jarred Spock a little more than he'd have expected. He'd have to save it for it he was really pissed off with him.

When they had been stranded together on Altamid, he had really got a sense of Spock's real emotional depth. He had done his best to ignore Spock's uncharacteristic tears and while he knew that his hysterics moments later came from how sick he was when Spock plunged back into tears a little while later he knew it wasn't all there just because he was sick. It was there all the time, he just didn't allow it to show.

The door buzzed, jarring McCoy from his thoughts and moments later, the man he'd just been thinking of came into the room. He looked unsuspecting, McCoy thought. He probably thought this was to arrange the latest health check, which was coming soon and on the agenda. McCoy motioned for him to take a seat and he didn't offer him a drink, not even as a human nicety because he was certain Spock would say no anyway. He didn't want to trivialise this in any way.

Spock's dark eyes were upon him. He waited, silently for McCoy to begin.

“I'm just going to get right to it. Nyota lost the baby.”

Spock processed that information. His mouth slowly opened as if to speak and then slowly closed again. His mouth would twitch and his eyes searched. His brow pulled itself into a frown and yet he said nothing. Eventually, finally, he spoke. “When?”

“She was off duty and she had some spotting, which isn't uncommon, but it was more severe so she came for a check-up, just to be sure. There was no heartbeat.”

He gave Spock the information as plainly as he could and waited for Spock to digest it. He would have to tell Jim after he finished with Spock. Uhura was five months into the pregnancy so everyone knew. Jim would have to handle that.

When he looked back to Spock the Vulcan was looking at him. He looked lost. “I'm really sorry, Spock.” He was sincere and hoped he conveyed that enough in the simplicity of the statement. But it quickly came apparent that Spock was looking for guidance as to how to navigate his way through this unfamiliar territory. Spock's eye contact seemed to have become something of an unfocused stare which he soon dropped to something on McCoy's desk instead of the man himself.

“Uhura?”

Another one-word question. He was in shock, it seemed, his mind reeling from the information. “She needs a little time right now. Let her have some rest and I'll take you to her when she's ready.”

“She-” Spock didn't seem to progress from the statement, his eyes darting back and forth as though he were working on the meaning of life. It took a while but he seemed to come to his senses a little more. “She.. she will have to give birth.”

McCoy thought it was a question, but said as a statement. He answered anyway. Spock's voice sounded so hollow he wanted to scrub his brain out to remove all traces of it. “Unfortunately she will.” He hesitated to say more but went ahead anyway. “Sometimes it helps with the grieving, to go through birth. It's more of a complete cycle for the mother to go through.”

“I think-” Spock stood after those two words and stayed where he was. He didn't know what to do. His mouth was open and not saying anything and then he turned and headed for the door.

“Spock?” McCoy called out after him, but the other man had gone. He quickly went and checked and found that he had headed away from sickbay. He was probably returning to his quarters which is what McCoy hoped, as long as he didn't try to see Nyota then that was good enough for now.

He would check on Spock soon enough, but he needed to tell Jim first and he wanted to check on Uhura. They both had to deal with this loss but she was the one who was carrying it. She was the one whose body was preparing to birth a child and that had been snatched away from her. Plus she would have the extra guilt that she had provided the incorrect body for her own baby to survive in. Nyota was a smart woman and he knew her intelligence would help, but she would blame herself.  

~

Jim was finishing his shift when he met McCoy at the other end of the turbo-lift.

“Hey Bones,” he said cheerfully, seeing his friend. “I was just about to grab some lunch, you coming?”

“I need to talk to you about work,” Bones said. “Why don't you get lunch first and meet me in my quarters at about 13.00?”

Kirk nodded “Okay, I'll see you later.”

Bones forced the most genuine smile he could and headed for Spock's quarters. He knew Nyota had Lt Wallis with her currently and wanted to check in with Spock. He'd planned to tell Jim straight away but he wouldn't tell him before lunch. Jim knew if it had been urgent, Bones wouldn't have let it wait.

Spock seemed to have started to process things a little, or he was trying to anyway. It seemed to involve a lot of pacing and muttering things to himself that McCoy couldn't understand. He offered Spock silent support until it was time to meet with Jim. He'd come back again later, he promised Spock.

Bones arrived at his quarters to find Kirk casually waiting outside. “You were visiting Spock too?” Kirk said, having seen the doctor emerge from the quarters next to his own.

“Just waiting for you,” McCoy said and they both headed inside. He ordered the doors to be locked. He and Spock shared a bathroom and if he wanted too, Spock could gain access into McCoy's room. He never did but the fact that he could worry Bones right then, even though it was, in Spock's often used term, illogical. He pulled out a seat for Jim and took the other for himself. He poured them both a drink while he started talking. “They lost the baby,” he said simply.

“What?” Jim said, shocked.

“Uhura had some bad bleeding and when I checked there was no heartbeat.”

“Damn,” Kirk said. “How are they?”

“As you'd expect I guess.”

“Wait, Spock's not with Uhura?”

“She didn't want to see him straight away. I think she needed some comfort from a friend first.”

Kirk's brow creased. “Damn,” he muttered before a more forceful “Damn!!” Kirk knocked back the drink and held the glass out for another which he followed straight down before he left the glass on the desk and got up. “How's Spock?”

McCoy puffed out air from his mouth. “Processing. It's like waiting for a file to download,” he gently teased.

Kirk barely listened to his friend. “I'm going to request emergency shore leave for the crew. This is gonna kill morale.”

Jim had a lot of different levels to process this. As a friend to both of them, as a Captain and what it meant to lose both of them from their positions temporarily and then also the overall effect on the rest of the crew.”I'm gonna go and get some things sorted. Do you need anything from me?”

McCoy shook his head. “Maybe just check in with them both tomorrow?” He wanted to give them both a chance to get over the shock of what had happened.

“Yeah, of course,” Kirk said. “Thanks, Bones,” he said patting the other man on the arm as he stood and left.

~

“Nyota?”

No one said her name like Spock did. There was a certain poetry to the way the words came together in his mouth that most humans just could not replicate. She closed her eyes at the sound of it as a tear leaked from her eyes.

Katie was still sat in the chair beside the bed, holding Uhura's hand in both of hers. Sadness radiated from her face but a strong resolve too. “I can stay if you want me to. I'll make him go,” she said softly, for Nyota's ears only.

Spock heard her of course, his hearing was immaculate but he pretended he didn't.

“It's okay. Thank you for being with me,” Nyota said softly. Katie smiled and hugged her friend and as she pulled back she kissed her forehead. “I'll come back tomorrow,” she promised and she moved past where Spock still stood in the doorway, waiting for her permission to come in.

Nyota couldn't find her voice but nodded at Spock. She wasn't ready to see him but she knew she never truly would be. In stark contrast to Katie who rushed to her side and cried with her, Spock stood at a distance and couldn't look at her. This was why she hadn't wanted him here with her. “Sit down,” she said. It might have sounded harsher if she's had the energy for it. She wasn't mad at him, she was just tired. So damn tired.

“I am sorry,” Spock said. He was eyeing her bump and his eyes didn't leave it.

She swallowed harshly. “My face is up here,” she said with dark humour that was lost on him and he tore his eyes away from it and locked with hers. His eyes were a mirror of the indescribable pain and loss in her own and they both looked away from one another, as though the hurt was just too much to bear. When she had the strength to look again, Spock's eyes were back on the bump and, out of habit, she put her hands protectively over it. “It doesn't feel any different,” she said, she thought her voice might sound empty. She doubted Spock would notice.

A spark of anger flared in her. The only thing she could focus on other than her loss was Spock and his indifference to her pregnancy to begin with. “Why weren't you excited?” she asked him.

His eyes travelled up to hers again, for a moment. “I was.”

“I slept beside you nearly every night. You wouldn't go near me. Does pregnancy revolt Vulcans?” She questioned but not giving him a chance to answer she continued. “It's fine if that's the case, I know there are a lot of things Vulcan's don't like to talk about. It's not exactly your fault.” There was an accusation in those words.

“Pregnancy is... a wonderful thing,” Spock eventually said. He was slow to respond and careful with his words. Uhura didn't know if it were for his own benefit or for hers.

“Just my pregnancy then?” she frowned.

“I am sorry if I did not give you the support you needed-” Spock started.

“That's not what I want to hear, Spock.” Focusing on him, what he did wrong helped her feel something. It was hurtful and for now, it was something other than loss, so she grabbed for it with both hands. She looked at him carefully. He looked lost. “You don't know how to do this, do you?”

“Do you?”

“I just want to know why you …. you didn't care?” The emotion escaped her then, was clear for him to hear.

Something twisted painfully in Spock's side. He had failed. Failed horribly. “Nyota, of course I cared,” he said. “I was... I was disappointed in myself that the pregnancy came about after Pon Farr.” he said, trying to explain.

She took a moment, processing what he said. “So... you didn't want the baby?” She misunderstood his sentiment.

“No,-”

“No?”

“That is not what I meant. I-” But he did not say anything more. It was as though he were physically unable to say another word. He was frozen.

Uhura seemed to realise that, after a few moments waiting for him to explain himself. “You should just go,” she said eventually. Any anger that had been there before had left her. She was just tired. She wanted to sleep. And cry.

He shook his head but he still couldn't bear to speak a word.

“Please, Spock. Please go,” she asked, almost begged him.

The door behind them opened as McCoy stepped inside. “Spock, I told you to wait-” he started but the Vulcan turned and left.

McCoy had no idea what had happened but he saw Uhura crumble and he went to her side and held her as she wailed. For her loss. For her baby.  

~

McCoy was laying on the bed, Uhura cradled against him, her eyes closed but not sleeping. He'd held her while she cried. She felt like she'd never stop but eventually, she couldn't cry any more. The pain was still there, undeniably so, but she just couldn't cry.

Once enough time had passed, McCoy gently started to talk to her. “Are you okay?” it was a stupid question given the circumstances but he expected the answer he got. “No.” “Jim's trying to get some emergency shore leave sorted. Get you and Spock off the ship if you like?”

“I don't know that I want to go anywhere. And I don't know that me and Spock are even a thing any more.”

McCoy held her a little tighter. “Come on, neither of you broke up with another, right?”

I don't know,” Uhura said. She sounded defeated.

“He looked broken when he left,” McCoy said.

She thought about Spock's words. “He said he didn't want the baby because Pon Farr. Little bit late afterward, isn't it?”

McCoy detected anger in her tone. It was to be expected. “Did he say why?”

“He just froze up,” she closed her eyes and rested her head against him.

“I can see how that would hurt considering that is how you got pregnant. But maybe there's more too it. Give yourselves a little time and then talk, okay?”

She nodded. Knew he was right. She dissolved into sobs again. “I thought we were safe.”

McCoy kissed the top of her head, feeling every moment of her pain. “I know you did.”

~

Spock left Uhura as she asked him too but he didn't know what to do once he left.

Everything made him want to go back inside and hold her. But even he knew he was so fundamentally not emotionally prepared to comfort her right now.

“Spock?” Came a familiar voice. He couldn't place it but he knew it, so he turned towards it.

The Captain came over to him. Apparently, he had been waiting. “Come with me,” Kirk said as he gently took Spock by the elbow and took him into the closest conference room. He had to physically push Spock into a seat and then got him a glass of water. It remained in front of Spock, untouched.

“How is she?” Kirk asked.

“She is upset.”

“Yeah,” Was all Kirk could say. Spock struggled to control his emotions at the best of times. Jim didn't know how to handle it. No one would really want to talk about such a personal thing anyway, but with Spock he was always aware of his control. He had, after all, been on the receiving end of Spock's emotional outburst and it did not feel good. True, he had been provoking it, but after all the loss Spock had suffered maybe it had made his resolve weaker, not stronger. “I don't know what to do,” Kirk admitted. “Is there anything you need me to do for you?”

Spock shook his head. “I think I would like to go back to my quarters and meditate.”

Kirk nodded. “Of course, I'm heading to my quarters now. I'll accompany you.” He didn't ask, he wanted to make sure he intercepted anyone who may consider talking to Spock along the way. Spock didn't object and the pair left together.

~

By the following afternoon, Kirk had discreetly held meetings with the staff about the situation with Uhura and Spock. Both of their shifts had been covered, Spock's for a week, Uhura for two, but he hoped to get authorisation for the shore leave anyway and it wouldn't matter. He doubted that Spock would agree to spend a week off duty but he would deal with that when and if he had too.

He had also gone to Uhura as her first visitor that morning. She'd cried. He had joined her. They said very little. He held her hand comforted her the best he could.

Later that morning, he had a meeting with McCoy and they discussed Uhura's condition. McCoy outlined his plan to go through the birth with her later that afternoon and that they would discuss what she and Spock wanted to do with the baby. He didn't know- and couldn't find out- if Vulcan's had any practices with such a loss and  there was no saying that Uhura would consider it right now. Her grief was consuming her right now and she still had to go through a very difficult process. Being forced to birth your dead baby was horrific and it was something that, despite what anyone told her, she would have to do alone. They could support her, hold her hand through it but it was she who had to deliver it still, knowing what the outcome was.

Jim busied himself with duty but he watched the time. He could barely keep him mind off of Uhura's plight. It was unfair. Couldn't they have this one thing? Would it really have screwed up some universal plan to have allowed them their happiness?

He needed a drink at the end of this shift

~

It was over.

The worst thing she would ever have to do.

McCoy had been with her through it all, just one nurse assisting. Spock was there too, a vague, shapeless lump in her peripheral vision. McCoy offered her the comfort she needed while the nurse took care of the birthing of the baby.

Uhura knew as soon as it was over it was the end of everything. She felt as though she would fall to pieces and couldn't stop herself from letting the tidal waves of grief and loss out. McCoy held her tightly, never wavering for a minute.

The nurse told Spock she was going to clean the baby up and they could spend some time with her. He nodded mutely. Uhura barely remembered he was there. The nurse wrapped the baby in a blanket and put a small hat on her head. She cradled her like the delicate and precious bundle that she was, she smiled brightly at the baby, even though she knew the heartbreak of the situation. She showed the baby to Spock but gave her to Uhura who was desperate to hold her baby when she saw her.

She would have bet she couldn't have cried any more that day, but she could. She wasn't done by a long shot.

“We'll give you some time together,” McCoy said and he left with the nurse. She didn't even look to see if Spock stayed or went but eventually, he moved closer, slowly, as though she might scream at him to leave forever.

She talked quietly to the baby. She never wanted to let her go. The feeling of holding her in her arms was something she hadn't realised she craved until she had it. It made the loss even harder. Eventually, Spock right beside the bed by now, she looked at him.

“Would you like to?”

He still looked like he had done yesterday. Heartbroken and shocked, but he nodded his head and she carefully passed the bundle to him. She missed her the second she was gone. Spock didn't talk. He just looked at her and held her, for longer than Uhura thought he would. He too seemed to not want to let her go. Her behaviour with him yesterday came back to taunt her. She hadn't been that patient with him and she wished she had. She felt fresh tears in her eyes and she reached for Spock's hand, to touch him. He misread the touch as her want for the babies return and passed her back. Uhura took her even though she wanted to tell him he didn't have to give her back yet, but she wanted her back, she missed her. Her arms ached for her return. She settled her in her arm again and reached for Spock again.

“I'm sorry,” she said. Her emotion, her loss and devastation hit her again. It kept coming in like waves and she didn't think it would ever end.

Spock just shook his head and held her hand. He couldn't offer the same support of her human friends but he still loved her and he still cared for her and he was the only other person in the universe that felt how she did right now. They stood like that for a long time until Uhura moved over on the bed and patted it for him to join her. He did and she held the baby closer to him.

They stayed like that until McCoy returned and said he needed to take the baby. He gave them another few minutes more together and then returned and collected the tiny bundle from them. “I'll take good care of her,” he promised them.

“Thank you,” Uhura said.

(TBC)

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.21: The Return of the Archons

AKA: In Star Trek, Neural Network Trains You 

Our episode begins with two men running frantically down a deserted, old-fashioned-looking street. The men look a bit old-fashioned themselves, wearing tall boots, waistcoats and tricorne hats, but when one of them trips and falls we see that the other one, stopping to help him up, is Sulu. In and of itself I wouldn’t find this terribly surprising since I just assume 19th-century themed LARPing is the kind of thing Sulu does on his days off, but they both look pretty freaked, so there’s probably something else going on here.

“O’Neil, we’ve got to keep going,” Sulu says, but O’Neil’s feeling a bit less plucky about the situation. “It’s no use, they’re everywhere!” he bemoans as the two of them back up against what appears to be a store window, albeit one completely empty of any merchandise. The desperate urgency of this statement is somewhat undercut by the fact that the camera then shows us all of one person, an anonymous figure wearing a brown hooded robe and carrying a big metal rod, pursuing them down the otherwise empty street. I say ‘pursuing’ but really, it’s more of a mosey than anything.

“Captain gave us an order! We’ve got to find some clue!” Sulu admonishes O’Neil, but O’Neil only reiterates that “It’s no use!” Then he points out another hooded figure approaching from a different direction. Oh, there’s two of them? Oh, well, I stand corrected. You’re definitely screwed.

[ID: An empty street with a large, old stone building at one end, in front of which a single figure in a brown hooded robe is standing.]

ahhhhh the endless hordes ohhhh nooooo

While Sulu and O’Neil are standing around waiting patiently to be cornered by the slowly advancing figures, Sulu kills some time by calling the ship to get them beamed up. Specifically, he calls the bridge, gets Kirk, and tells Kirk they need to be beamed up so that Kirk can then call the transporter room and tell them that the landing party needs to be beamed up, because just calling the transporter room directly might actually have gotten them out of there in time. Naturally, as soon as the situation calls for them to stay where they are so they can get beamed out, O’Neil immediately changes his mind and decides that actually he’d quite like to run away. Sulu yells after him desperately, but it’s no use; O’Neil has scarpered, leaving Sulu to face the approaching figure alone. The very slowly approaching figure.

Despite Sulu’s heroic last stand (heavier on the ‘stand’ than the ‘heroic,’ it must be said), one of the hooded figures manages to reach him, threateningly raising the big length of metal pipe they’re carrying to...gently tap him on the shoulder with it. Evidently this has more serious effects than Sulu being declared It now, because there’s an ominous sound effect and Sulu goes rigid for a moment. Then his expression turns into a blank, empty grin just as he finally gets beamed up.

Upon arrival, our still-grinning navigator staggers somewhat drunkenly on the transporter pad as Kirk hurries in, wanting to know what’s going on, and where’s O’Neil? Yeah, Mr. Transporter Man, where is O’Neil? This need for people to remain perfectly still for the transporter to lock on to them has rather suddenly come out of nowhere, considering a few episodes ago they were able to pluck a man flying a jet fighter out of the sky with no trouble. O’Neil might have run off pretty quick but I rather doubt he was traveling faster than an F-104. Damn thing must be on the fritz again.

Neither Sulu nor the transporter operator answer Kirk’s questions. Sulu just looks at him dreamily and says, “What? Who?” I don’t know what the transporter operator’s excuse is. Then Sulu looks a little more focused (it’s a very low bar) and says, “You’re not of the Body.”

At this point Kirk quite sensibly decides to ctrl-alt-del this entire conversation and just calls for McCoy to get down here pronto. Meanwhile, Sulu has rounded on a nearby blueshirt who’s just hanging out in the transporter room for some unknown reason, and starts yelling, “You, you did it! They knew we were Archons. These are the clothes they wear, not these!” (So, are you saying those clothes were...anarchonistic?) Then he throws his tricorne at the blueshirt and starts taking off his coat for good measure, because taking off his clothes is just how Sulu reacts to being under alien influences. This time he doesn’t get quite as far as in The Naked Time, though, getting distracted partway through by some thought that makes him look up to the ceiling and start grinning again while saying, “Landru...Landru...”

Kirk manages to get Sulu to sit down on the transporter pad and attempts to pry some kind of useful information out of him, but all he gets is some rambling about how “They’re wonderful, the sweetest people in the universe...” and “It’s paradise, my friend.”

McCoy gets there in the middle of this and reacts about how you’d expect.

[ID: McCoy raising an eyebrow and glancing to the side in bewilderment while saying “da fuck.”]

“Sulu, where’s O’Neil?” Kirk asks once again.

“Paradise...” Sulu says happily.

We never get to find out what McCoy considers to be the appropriate medical response to this situation, because at that point the scene cuts to the titles. Afterward we get a captain’s log to shed a very small amount of light on the situation:

“While orbiting planet Beta 3 trying to find some trace of the starship Archon that disappeared here a hundred years ago, a search party consisting of two Enterprise officers were sent to the planet below. Mr. Sulu has returned, but in a highly agitated mental state. His condition requires I beam down with an additional search detail.”

I don’t know if I would call that agitated, per se. It’s sort of the opposite of agitated, really. But never mind that, let’s talk about the fact that the Enterprise has been sent to investigate the whereabouts of a ship that vanished a century ago. At that point we’re well past there being any chance of actually helping any survivors and into ‘historical mystery’ territory. Sure, it’d be good to find out what happened, but was there really not anything of higher priority for the Enterprise, of all ships, to be doing? This is like telling an active Navy cruiser to stop everything and go look for the USS Cyclops. (Look it up.)

Well, Archon or no Archon, there’s clearly something weird going on here and whatever it is ate our best navigator’s brain, so there’s only one thing to do: send even more critical personnel down right into the middle of it to check it out. So Kirk, Spock, McCoy and three other dudes we don’t know beam down all dolled up in what could be called period dress as long as you don’t ask too many questions about exactly what period it is. Special shout-out to Spock, who’s chosen to hide his ears in the most conspicuous manner possible:

[ID: A landing party of six men assembled in two rows on an old-fashioned city street. In the front stand McCoy, wearing a a gray suit with a black bolo tie and carrying a medical case; Kirk, wearing a dark blue coat over suit pants, a patterned gray waistcoat, and a black bolo tie; and Spock, wearing a black knee-length cloak with a square hood over gray suit pants and dress shoes. In the back row are three more crewmembers wearing similar clothing.]

SPOCK SMOCK SPOCK SMOCK SPOCK SMOCK

Incidentally, if any of these streets and buildings look familiar, it’s because the exterior of the town was filmed at RKO 40 Acres, the same multi-purpose backlot that provided the set for Miri, which you may recall also served as the town of Mayberry in The Andy Griffith Show. It kinda makes me wonder if the Andy Griffith crew ever got annoyed at the Star Trek crew for trashing their town multiple times.

As the party gets their bearings, a man holding one hand to his chest wanders past, apparently too busy staring dreamily into the distance to take any notice of the new arrivals. Spock and Kirk take immediate notice of how much this resembles the state Sulu was in. “If everyone on this planet is like him...” Kirk muses, but doesn’t bother giving us the end to that sentence. Probably it wasn’t supposed to be “...then where can I get some?” but that’s the first thing to come to mind.

They head off down the street, and soon encounter another local wearing the same vacant expression, and also a bowler hat. This one actually stops and addresses them, though, saying, “Joy to you, friends,” with the hand-on-chest gesture the first guy was doing. Well, when in Rome, etc, so Kirk also puts his hand on his chest and replies, “Joy to you,” while behind him Spock chimes in with a distinctly half-hearted attempt at the same gesture.

The local continues, “You be strangers. Come for the festival, are ya?” For some reason the actor here has chosen to go with the most goofily over-enunciated accent he could possibly manage. It sticks out like a sore thumb because no one else in the town sounds remotely like that; they tend to sound a bit spacey, but nothing more than that. Indeed, I’m quite sure that no real existing human being has ever naturally sounded like this dude. But hey, I guess that’s one way to make your five minutes of screen time memorable.

Kirk’s happy to go with this conveniently offered explanation for their presence. Sure! Festival! Definitely! That is definitely why we are here, absolutely.

The guy then asks if they have a place to “sleep it off” yet. When Kirk shakes his head, the guy suggests they go find the house of someone called Reger. “He’s got rooms...but you’ll have to hurry. It’s almost the Red Hour.” Oh, that sounds...fun.

Sure enough there’s a clock on the nearby building reading about two minutes to six, which is barely enough time to put directions to Reger’s house into Wayz, let alone to get there. Unfortunately the party is still trapped in the iron grip of small talk with a dude who clearly sees no reason whatsoever to draw any association between “you’ll have to hurry” and “now it’s time to stop casually chatting.” But that’s small towns for you. I have occasionally come pretty close to having to gnaw my own arm off to escape conversations at the library check-out desk, and were meteors to start falling outside I would not expect the lady scanning my books to speed up one little bit.

At that moment, a couple of women come drifting serenely down the sidewalk nearby, giving Bowler Hat the chance to rope even more people into the conversation. “Tula, these folks come for the festival,” he says to one of them. “Your daddy can put them up, can’t he?” Tula, who looks slightly less spacey than Bowler Hat (a low bar) asks if the party is from the valley. One of the three as-yet-anonymous crewmembers, eager to make a contribution, chimes in that they’ve just arrived. Sure is convenient that everyone around here only asks leading questions.

Tula says sure, her dad would be happy to put them up. But it’s too late: just as she says this, the clock begins tolling six. The effect on the town is immediate. Tula, Bowler Hat, and everyone else in sight break into a frenzy, screaming, throwing hats and gloves, hitting each other, breaking things, and generally rampaging like an Instant Angry Mob, Just Add Water. The stunned landing party run for cover while people go wild all around them. Unfortunately one of them does get beaned by a remarkably soft bit of debris in the process.

[ID: A gif showing the landing party, led by Kirk, running through a street while various debris gets thrown around. One piece hits one of the crewmen in the head, causing him to throw his hands up, but not stop running.]

They find a nearby building to run into, quickly close the door, and only then turn around to see three very confused older men standing there staring at them. Kirk apologizes for bursting in on them, explaining that they weren’t prepared for “this kind of a welcome.” One of the men asks if they’re strangers and Kirk says yes, they came from the valley and they’re here for the festival. This answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the men as well as it did Bowler Hat, though, because the speaker asks, “How come you here?” Before Kirk can try to answer this, one of the crewmembers (the same one who spoke before, of course; what, you think they could afford to have all three of them talk? Talking’s expensive!) asks if the guy is Reger. The guy says yes, and then confirms that Tula is his daughter. “Well you better do something!” the ‘shirt yells. “She’s outside!”

Reger, however, doesn’t look at all taken aback by this news, just sad. “I know,” he says. “It’s Festival. It’s the will of Landru.”

At that point, one of Reger’s companions interrupts, pointing out that these new strangers are “young men, not old enough to be excused.” Oh, that’s okay, we’ve got McCoy here, he can write everyone a quick doctor’s note. Reger points out that they’re visitors, but the other man isn’t about to be content with that. “Well, have they no lawgivers in the valley?” he demands. “Why be they not at the festival?”

Rather than attempt to navigate the weird backroads of this conversation any further, Kirk aims to distract by telling Reger that they heard he might have some rooms for them. Reger looks relieved at this. “You see, Hacom?” he tells the complaining man. “They’ve merely come looking for a place to rest afterwards.” Hacom is still not appeased: “The Red Hour has already struck!”

The third man steps in then and tries to help soothe Hacom, telling him that “the valley has different ways.” But Hacom’s got a good head of outrage built up by now and he’s not about to concede it for anyone. “Do you say that Landru is not everywhere?!” he demands, with much the same kind of self-righteous huffiness of a man bitching out a Starbucks barista for wishing him happy holidays instead of merry Christmas.

“No, of course not,” the third man says, still gamely trying to defuse things. “It’s simply that they have different ways.”

“They’ve come looking for shelter,” Reger says, with what he clearly hopes is a sense of finality. “Can I turn them away?”

He turns and makes as if to lead the landing party up the nearby stairs, but the concerned ‘shirt stops him and asks again about Tula. “She is in Festival, as you should be!” Hacom snaps. As Reger finally manages to get the landing party upstairs Hacom turns to the remaining man and says that “the Lawgivers should know.” He is distinctly not amused when the other man tries to point out that surely the Lawgivers already know since they’re infallible, which Hacom takes as mockery toward the Lawgivers. “The strangers are not of the Body!” he yells as he stalks outside in a huff. “You will see!”

Upstairs, Reger has taken the party to a room with several beds, where he putters around opening the windows (revealing that somehow, full dark has fallen in the five minutes or so that they’ve been inside) and saying that the group can come back there after Festival, when they’ll be in need of rest. Kirk tells him they have no intention of attending Festival. This leaves Reger stunned and confused, but not nearly as stunned and confused as he is a moment later when Kirk says that he’d like to know more about the Festival, and about this ‘Landru’ person. At that, Reger freaks out, slamming the window closed again and spluttering incoherently before finally managing to say “Well...you’re strange.” Then he tries to ask, “Are you...are you...” but can’t quite make it. Undaunted by this, Kirk asks about Landru once again, causing Reger to freak out even more.

Outside, meanwhile, it’s still total chaos. Things are on fire, people are screaming, the works. Special shout-out to the guy who just straight-up throws himself through an entire window.

[ID: A gif showing a man running past a glass window with a chair right before another man runs up and jumps through the window, shattering the glass.]

And now, the weather.  

By the time we cut back to the landing party, some time seems to have passed, as Reger is absent and Kirk is busy brooding at the window. Having evidently seen enough, he turns back to the group and says, “My guess is we have until morning. Let’s put the time to good use.” He tells McCoy to take some readings to see if there’s anything in the air that might account for all this and Lindstrom—the ‘shirt who was concerned about Tula—to “correlate everything that you’ve seen with any other sociological parallels, if any.” Oh man, Lindstrom got the hard homework. Kirk then turns to Spock and says, “You and I have some serious thinking to do. When we leave here tomorrow, I want to have a plan of action.”

Apparently all that thinking really takes it out of you, because the next thing we see is the gas lamp by the door having burned out, while in the interim almost everyone has passed out on some piece of furniture or another. Kirk remains somewhat awake, leaning half-asleep against the post of the bunk bed with a blanket wrapped around him, while Spock is laying flat on his back on a top bunk with his hands on his chest and his eyes wide open like Dracula. I don’t know he’s awake or if that’s just how Spock sleeps. Could go either way.

Kirk meanders sleepily over to the window and looks out. The rioting is still going strong, even though the sun has risen and the town clock is reading a few minutes to six. As the clock strikes six a moment later, the people below all suddenly freeze where they are. Then they all begin to calmly meander off in different directions, the rioting over just as abruptly as it began.

Kirk goes to wake up/get the attention of Spock, then rouses Lindstrom and then McCoy, who’s fallen asleep in some kind of chair-bed thing. The silence is suddenly broken by the sound of a woman crying loudly downstairs, which accelerates the waking-up process considerably. Everyone hastens downstairs to see Reger holding Tula, who’s sobbing hysterically, while Reger’s friend from last night hovers awkwardly patting her on the shoulder and such. McCoy gently pulls Tula away into another room, and when Reger tries to follow Kirk stops him, saying, “He’ll give her a shot, it’ll calm her down. Trust us.” Yeah, Reger! Trust the total strangers to medicate your daughter! What could go wrong?

Lindstrom breaks in angrily, demanding to know what kind of father Reger is that he didn’t even attempt to rescue Tula last night. Reger helplessly says that it was Landru’s will. Lindstrom, I know you’re righteously angry right now, but there’s a thing called “making half an effort to blend in with the locals so they don’t cut your head off.” Here, let Kirk show you how it’s done.

[ID: Kirk standing slightly behind Reger, a concerned looking middle-aged white man with brown hair in a dark gray suit, and another, older white man with gray hair and a similar suit. Kirk is saying, “What about Landru? Who is he?”]

oh for fuck’s sake

“So it’s true then,” Reger’s friend says. “You didn’t attend the festival last night?” No, Kirk says. “Then you’re not of the Body,” Reger muses. “You couldn’t be...”

The two of them hurry off in consternation, and the rest of the party follows, into the side room where McCoy and Spock have taken Tula. Speaking of Tula, she’s now thoroughly passed out. Evidently McCoy wasn’t kidding around with that shot.

“Are you...are you Archons?” Reger asks Kirk.

“What if we are?” Kirk replies, smoothly sidestepping out of that minefield of a question.

“It was said more would follow,” Reger says uncertainly. “If you are indeed--”

“We must hide them, quickly,” his friend interrupts. “The Lawgivers--” Kirk tries to assure him that they can take care of themselves, but assured he is not. “Landru will know,” he says. “He will come.”

Turns out that wasn’t hyperbole, because all of about two seconds later, a couple of the same brown-hooded figures that were harassing Sulu and O’Neil come bursting into the room, metal rods at the ready.

[ID: The landing party along with Reger and his friend all assembled in an old-fashioned sitting room and looking towards the doors, which are flanked by two men wearing brown hooded robes and carrying tall metal rods.]

NOBODY EXPECTS THE LAWGIVER INQUISITION

Accompanying them is Hacom, the damn narc, who smugly proclaims that Reger’s friend has been mocking the Lawgivers, and also those punks over there didn’t attend Festival like good citizens. “Tamar. Stand Clear,” one of the Lawgivers intones at Reger’s friend, in a robotic and slightly reverb-y voice. Both Reger and Tamar look stricken, but after a moment Tamar slowly says, “I hear and obey the voice of Landru,” and steps out in front of Reger. The Lawgiver raises their Rod of Lordly Might and the end of it fizzles and pops like a handful of cheap sparklers, which is probably exactly what it was. Tamar collapses on the spot, dead.

As Reger and Kirk grab Tamar and gently lower him to the ground, the Lawgiver speaks again. “You. Attacked. The Body. You Have Heard The Word. And Disobeyed. You Will Be Exterminated Absorbed.”

“What do you mean, absorbed?” Kirk asks. I’m going to give you a tip for free here: if someone tells you “you will be absorbed” that is not the time to stand around asking questions. Get out of there and you can figure out the details later, cause one thing you can be sure of is that there is no scenario where that could possibly end up being a good thing.

Hacom immediately crows that this is proof the strangers are “not of the Body” but the Lawgivers don’t seem to pay him any attention. “You Will Be Absorbed,” Kirk is told. “The Good Is All. Landru Is Gentle. You Will Come.”

After the break, Kirk, still looking unimpressed by all this, tells the Lawgivers, “We’re not going anywhere.”

“It Is The Law,” the Lawgiver tells him. “You Must Come.”

“I said we’re not going anywhere,” Kirk repeats calmly, while Reger clings onto his arm with a look of absolute terror.

But instead of resorting to force, the Lawgivers turn to face each other and just stand there for a moment. “Evidently they’re not prepared to deal with outright disobedience,” Spock notes curiously. “How did you know?” Kirk replies that everything they’ve seen so far indicates that the people in this place have a compulsive stimulus of some kind towards actions beyond their control, so he banked on the Lawgivers not being able to deal with people who couldn’t just be ordered around. Absolutely nobody feels inclined to take advantage of this brief respite by, say, climbing out the convenient nearby window or anything.

Eventually the Lawgivers turn back to the party. “It Is Clear That You Simply Did Not Understand,” the speaking one says. “I Will Rephrase. You Are Ordered To Accompany Us To The Absorption Chambers.”

“Why did you kill that man?” Kirk demands.

“Out Of Order,” the Lawgiver says. “You Will Obey. It Is The Word Of Landru.”

“You tell Landru,” Kirk says, “that we’ll come in our own time and we’ll speak to him.” Then he grabs the Lawgiver’s staff and hands it to Spock, who starts poking around with it.

“You Cannot,” the Lawgiver says. “It Is Landru.”

At this point Hacom evidently loses his nerve and rushes out of the room, whimpering, “Landru!” Meanwhile, Spock observes that the Lawgiver’s staff is just an empty tube without any kind of mechanism inside it.

The Lawgivers have to stop and buffer once again, only this time they’re making a strange noise. “They’re communing,” Reger says. “We have time, come with me.” He can take them to a place where they’ll be safe, he says, but they have to hurry before Landru comes.

So he leads them outside, where he starts walking casually down the street, smiling and nodding and doing the ‘peace’ gesture at people as they pass. Kirk puts rather less effort into being surreptitious and keeps loudly talking to Spock while they make their way across town, asking him what he makes of all this weirdness. Unsurprisingly, Spock finds it all “totally illogical.” Yesterday, for no apparent reason, the entire town broke out into total havoc. “Yet today, now--” “--Now, they’re back to normal,” Kirk finishes. I mean, if you want to call that normal. Arguably the way they’re acting now is less normal than the rioting and screaming.

As they walk, Bowler Hat Man approaches them with a cheerful “Morning, friends.” Reger greets him back casually, but Lindstrom recognizes him and rushes up to Reger, saying, “Your daughter—that’s the man!” The man who...well, we didn’t see what happened, exactly, but we did see Bilar grab Tula while the whole town was breaking out in a wild frenzy, and the next time we saw Tula she was sobbing frantically, so...draw your own conclusions.

But Reger seems neither surprised nor upset by the accusation. “No, it wasn’t Bilar, it was Landru,” he says impatiently, before telling them all they need to hurry. Which is easier said than done—moseying and hurrying at the same time is a difficult proposition.

Despite their best efforts, the group hasn’t gotten much farther before Reger stops and says, “It’s too late—look!” For a moment it doesn’t look as if anything much has happened, but then the party realizes that everyone on the street has stopped dead in their tracks. It’s Landru, Reger says—he’s summoning the Body. Or, as Spock helpfully chimes in, “Telepathy, Captain.”

A moment later, the townspeople all start reaching down and picking up bits of the debris that’s littering the area. Specifically, the bits that are rather heavy and blunt, like bricks and bits of masonry and big sticks. Oh dear. “Phasers on stun,” Kirk says. Yeah, no kidding.

Abandoning the pretense of normality, Reger leads the group off at a jog down the street as the dead-eyed townspeople advance on them. It’s admittedly a bit creepy. There might not have been enough extras to sell the idea of an entire town in full riot, but there are enough to make a decent-sized mob. It’s just a shame they advance so very slowly. And that, when the party turns into an alley and sees more people coming up it from the other end, they just kind of stop and hang out there for a moment to let themselves get cornered, even though the rest of the mob isn’t nearly close enough behind them that they couldn’t just turn around and keep going in another direction.

[ID: The landing party and Reger huddled in a group at the mouth of an alley while a mob slowly approaches from several yards away.]

had a D&D game once that ended up remarkably like this

Kirk says he doesn’t want to hurt them, and tells Reger to warn them back, but Reger says “They’re in the Body, it’s Landru!” In other words, they’re possessed, and not about to listen to Reger or anyone. So the group has to fire on the townspeople approaching up the alleyway. Evidently Landru’s powers over people don’t extend to making them phaser-proof, because everyone hit by the beams drops where they stand, only for them to be immediately replaced by more townspeople in their wake. The whole ‘unstoppable zombie horde’ vibe is, again, unfortunately a bit diminished by a sheer lack of numbers—given the population of this town as we’ve seen it so far, and how slowly they move, the party could probably just easily stand there and keep firing until the whole town is unconscious. It’d probably take about five minutes, tops.

Also, one of the supposedly stunned townspeople rather noticeably catches himself on the way down.

[ID: A gif showing several townspeople at the end of an alley, all holding aloft various sticks and bits of debris, as a stun beam hits them, causing them to fall to the ground. A man in front catches himself with one hand and lowers himself the rest of the way.]

Despite my tactical advice, the crew decides to make a run for it down the alley after clearing away some of the mob, but as they’re on the move McCoy stops suddenly and kneels by one of the fallen men. It’s O’Neil. Evidently running didn’t turn out any better for him than standing still did for Sulu. Kirk tells Reger that this is one of their men, but Reger says that he isn’t, not anymore. “He’s one of them!” he cries. “Landru will find us through him! Leave him there, he’s our enemy, he’s been absorbed!”

Yeah, three guesses as to whether Kirk is about to leave one of his crewmembers laying unconscious and brainwashed in the path of a relentless mob, and the first two don’t count. One of the ‘shirts does point out, though, that now that they’ve found O’Neil they could go ahead and beam the heck outta this whole mess. Kirk says no, because they still haven’t found their answers about what happened to the Archons. I mean, sure, but...is that really more of a priority right now than escaping the mob that’s out for your blood, and getting to a safe space where you could regroup, tend to your unconscious party member, and question Reger without having to worry about some hooded jerks with big sticks bursting in on you at any time?  Apparently it is, because a couple of people haul O’Neil off the ground and they all hurry off.

Exactly where Reger’s hiding place is we don’t get to find out, but evidently they get there alright, because the next thing we see is him pushing open a heavy stone door that leads into a distinctly dungeon-ish looking room. Everyone hurries inside, and Reger pushes aside an old bedframe to get to an alcove where someone’s left a big plastic square wrapped in heavy cloth. At least, it looks like a big plastic square, but Kirk identifies it as a lighting panel and it does, indeed, light up. “Amazing in this culture,” Spock comments. Yeah, it is a bit anachronistic next to the brazier over there.

Reger hangs it up on the wall to illuminate the room and says that it “comes from a time before Landru.” Asked just how long ago that was, he says that no one knows for sure, but some say it was as long as six thousand years ago. Six thousand years and it still works? Man, and I thought the Centennial Light was impressive.

Kirk has the two still-nameless ‘shirts go stand guard at the door while he and Spock muse over how weird it is that the lighting panel clearly came from a much more technologically advanced culture than the one currently occupying the place. Meanwhile, McCoy has had O’Neil brought over to what remains of the bed and is busy examining him. He gives Kirk an ‘in a minute’ gesture, so Kirk goes back to pacing and speculating, wondering if the Lawgiver’s rods might be some kind of antennae or broadcasting devices for transmitting the power of Landru in all its sparkly glory. Meanwhile, Spock is looking at his tricorder, which is apparently picking up “strong power generations...near here, but radiating in all directions.”

McCoy interjects to say that O’Neil will be coming around soon. “He must not!” Reger protests frantically. “He’s been absorbed!” This is followed by a dramatic chord and Kirk turning to Reger and going “Absorbed??” as if Reger didn’t already say the exact same thing twice back in the alley. I suppose he was a bit distracted at the time, but still.

“The Body absorbs its enemies,” Reger explains. “It only kills when it has to. When the first Archons came they were free, out of control, opposing the will of Landru. Many were killed, many more were absorbed. When he regains consciousness, Landru will find us through him. And if the others come--”

What others? Kirk asks. Reger explains that he means other people like him, who oppose Landru. They’re organized in threes—Reger was part of a cell consisting of him, Tamar, and one other person whom he doesn’t actually know, because Tamar was his contact. Evidently they’re doing the standard Resistance thing of limiting what individual members know in case they get captured, which is even more important when your adversary can control minds.

McCoy interrupts to say yeah that’s all great, but he needs a decision here, because O’Neil is coming out of it. Reger protests once again that O’Neil can’t be allowed to wake up, and Kirk mulls it over for a moment before telling McCoy, “Give him a shot. Keep him asleep.” Man, McCoy’s handing out sleepy shots left and right this episode. He must have a stash hidden in that waistcoat somewhere.

While McCoy does that, Kirk draws Reger over to a nearby table and says that he wants some answers. For one thing, if Landru’s so powerful, how is there a resistance movement at all?  Reger doesn’t know how it happened, only that some people have escaped “the directives.” “It was that way when the first Archons came,” he adds.

Reger’s obviously not entirely clear on what was up with the Archons, understandably given that it was a hundred years ago and detailed history is probably hard to keep track of around here if you’re not part of the hivemind, but he says that “Landru pulled them down from the skies” and that they invaded the Body but at least in part resisted Landru’s will. Kirk gets interested in that first bit, interpreting it as Landru bringing down a starship. Spock confirms that the power readings he’s getting are over nine thousand powerful enough to destroy a starship. Kirk sure doesn’t like the sound of that, so he calls up the Enterprise to check up on how un-destroyed it is. The answer’s not real great: Scotty picks up and reports that the ship is under attack by “heat beams of some kind coming up from the planet’s surface.”

The shields are holding so far, but keeping them up is taking all of the ship’s power, so much so that if they can’t even move without being burned up. Oh, and the orbit is failing, because of course it is, you can’t keep an orbit going round here for anything. Although presumably they are still in an orbit right now, which begs the question of where these heat beams are coming from that they can stay locked onto the ship no matter which side of the planet it’s facing. I guess Landru really is everywhere. Anyway, if they can’t shake the heat beams long enough to use the engines, Scotty reports grimly, they’ve only got about twelve hours left before the orbit decays and they hit the atmosphere. Cool. Were you gonna like, call up and let the landing party know about this at some point, or…?

Kirk basically tells him to hang in there, since there’s not exactly much more that they can do, while the landing party works on taking out those heat beams at the source. Scotty starts to talk about how he tried the emergency bypass circuits, but they weren’t effective—they never are, I don’t know why he even bothers—but then he starts breaking up. Spock reports that he’s picking up some very strong sensor beams—something’s probing them, and it’s too strong for him to block it.

Just then, there’s a strange whirring noise, preceding the arrival of a holographic image (or, possibly, ghost) appearing against the wall. Specifically, it’s an image of a dude wearing a purple and pink-cape-toga-thing and looking incredibly smug for someone with no apparent arms.

[ID: A semi-transparent image being projected onto a stone wall, which shows a middle-aged white man with thick light brown hair, wearing a long purple robe over a black high-necked shirt, with a shiny pinkish-orange cape on top.]

“I am Landru,” the image announces.

Spock is unimpressed. “Projection, captain,” he announces. “Unreal.”

“But beautiful, Mr. Spock, with no apparatus at this end,” Kirk muses. I dunno, man, the pink cape thing is certainly a bold choice but I think ‘beautiful’ is a bit of a stretch.

“You have come as destroyers,” the projection of Landru continues, heedless of the commentary from the audience. “You bring an infection.” Kirk insists that Landru release the Enterprise, but Landru carries blithely on. “You have come to a world without hate, without fear, without conflict. No war, no disease, no crime. None of the ancient evils. Landru seeks tranquility. Peace for all. The universal good.” Yeah, it looked real peaceful and conflict-free last night.

Kirk tries to tell Landru that they mean no harm, and that theirs “is a mission of peace and goodwill.” (That’s why we brought phasers!) Landru just keeps talking about good transcending evil, etc, etc, until Spock points out that “He doesn’t hear you, Captain.” Honestly not sure if he means that Landru literally has no way to hear them or if he can hear them but just keeps right on monologuing anyway cause, y’know, we’ve all met That Dude.

“Maybe he’ll hear this!” Lindstrom says, charging forward with his phaser out. Oh yeah, great job there Lindy, let’s SHOOT the HOLOGRAM. Kirk tells Lindstrom to cut that shit out so he can get back to talking to Landru which, admittedly, is really doing just about as much good as shooting the wall would.

“You will be absorbed,” Landru says. “Your individuality will merge into the unity of good, and in your submergence into the common being of the Body, you will find contentment and fulfillment. You will experience...the absolute good.” See, I told you it wouldn’t mean anything good.

At this point, a high-pitched whirring noise that’s been steadily but mostly unnoticeably rising through the background music suddenly peaks, causing everyone to start clutching at their heads in pain. The two ‘shirts guarding the door are the first to drop to their knees, with the rest of the party succumbing quickly afterward.

What follows is a wonderful opportunity to observe several different styles of Slowly Passing Out. Nimoy looks like he’s going to go one way but then changes his mind and falls backward onto the table instead until he’s laying on his back looking up. Christopher Held (Lindstrom) takes the bold move of just falling straight to the ground in a dead drop, while Kelley, no fool he, is back there doing a complex maneuver involving hanging onto the bedpost to slow his own descent. Shatner, of course, goes for the most extra route possible, pitching forward onto the table while clutching his head and then slowly falling down into the chair. I give full marks to everyone except Harry Townes (Reger) who was already sitting down and didn’t have very far to go in the first place.

[ID: A gif showing Kirk, Lindstrom, Spock, McCoy, and Reger clutching their heads and slowly collapsing on and around a nearby table.]

After the break, Kirk gives a captain’s log, which is quite impressive considering he’s currently unconscious.

“The Enterprise, still under attack by some sort of heat rays from the surface of Beta 3, is now being commanded by engineering officer Scott. The shore party has been taken by the creature called Landru.”

We briefly see the Enterprise in orbit around the planet (heat rays not pictured), before cutting to the landing party, now relocated to an even more dungeon-like room than the one they were in before. Kirk wakes up, staggers out of the alcove he was laying in, and goes to investigate the other end of the room, where Lindstrom and one of the unnamed ‘shirts are passed out in another alcove. Some further investigation reveals that Kirk is no longer carrying either phaser or communicator, and that the only apparent exit to the place is less of a door and more just a giant slab of stone in a doorway, which Kirk predictably has absolutely no luck moving. Eventually he gives up and goes back to wake up Spock, Lindstrom, and the other ‘shirt, who he addresses as Leslie.

We’ve seen Leslie quite a few times already—actor Eddie Paskey was a recurring extra who frequently filled the role of oddjob Enterprise crewmembers whenever one was needed. Like in the case of Kyle and the other TOS background regulars, it’s difficult to tell how many of Paskey’s appearances should actually be taken to be the same person, since not only does he go through a couple different names before ‘Leslie’ finally gets used, but for all of his characters to be Leslie would require him to go through jobs at a rate unlikely even for Enterprise crewmembers. Still, he gets referred to as Leslie more often than he gets called anything else, so he’s probably Leslie at least most of the time.

Spock, noticing that they’re a couple of heads short all of a sudden, asks where McCoy is. Kirk tells him he doesn’t know, since McCoy was gone before Kirk even woke up, along with O’Neil and “the other guard.” Oh yeah, “the other guard.” Great job remembering your crew’s names there, captain. Actually, said guard is probably named Galloway or possibly Galoway, yet another one of those amorphous extras; Galloway, however, is pretty consistently a security officer (aside from a brief stint as transporter operator) and while he won’t be referred to by name until his next appearance, he’s not called any other names until then, so in this case it’s fairly reasonable to assume that all or least most appearances of actor David L. Ross can be taken to be the same character. Not that it makes any real difference, since he has no personality whatsoever.

Anyway, Spock thinks McCoy and Galloway must have been here but were removed at some point. Kirk wonders where “here” is. “Evidently a maximum security establishment,” Spock replies. That may or may not have been sarcasm. Honestly it’s hard to tell with Spock sometimes.

Kirk also informs Spock that “all our phasers are gone, I checked” even though we’ve been watching him this whole time and he definitely didn’t check anyone but himself, but never mind that. Lindstrom and Leslie finally make it up, looking rather the worse for wear, with Lindstrom mentioning having a killer headache (Leslie probably has one too, but we’d have to pay him more if he said anything). Spock says that this is because they were all subjected to a hypersonic attack, which probably would have killed them had it been any stronger. Instead it just knocked them out, and possibly gave them tinnitus.

Enough about sound waves, Kirk wants to focus on coming up with a way out of this dungeon. He hopefully mentions the way the Lawgivers seemed unable to react to anything unexpected, but Spock shoots that one down, saying they shouldn’t count on it happening again because “in a society as well-organized as this one appears to be, I cannot conceive of such an oversight going uncorrected.” That said, he still finds that behavior to be very interesting, because the way the Lawgivers reacted was a lot like the way a computer would react to being given insufficient or contradictory data. He doesn’t think this means the Lawgivers themselves are computers—but it’s definitely an interesting data point.

At that moment, the door opens and a Lawgiver escorts McCoy and Galloway inside. Kirk rushes over to them, only to see McCoy smile blandly at him and say, “Hello, friend. We were told to wait here.” Oh dear.

Now real concerned, Kirk starts to say “Doc--” but McCoy just turns to him and says, “Can I help you, friend?”

“Don’t you know me?” Kirk asks desperately.

“We all know one another through Landru,” McCoy replies.

Just like Sulu, Spock observes grimly. But Kirk’s having a hard time holding onto his objectivity. It’s one thing to hear Reger talk about Landru doing this to people, even to see it happen to members of his own crew—but this is McCoy. His friend. Kirk grabs him by the shoulders and yells at him to remember—but McCoy just looks confused and asks if Kirk is from “away” because he speaks very strangely. Then even that brief moment of emotion fades away and he returns to smiling. “Ask Landru,” he says. “He remembers. He knows, and he watches.”

Kirk eventually has to give up and leave McCoy sitting in the alcove with the guard. He turns to Spock, but before they can even begin to confer on this problem, the door opens again to admit a couple of Lawgivers. One of them points their rod threateningly at Kirk and orders him to come with them. Kirk tries his previous trick of just refusing, but as Spock predicted, that bug has evidently been patched, because this time the Lawgiver calmly replies, “Then You Will Die.”

It seems there’s not much choice but for Kirk to get going, so with one final order for Spock to see if he can do anything about McCoy’s whole situation, he follows the Lawgiver out the door. Spock watches him go before turning to McCoy and asking what’s going to happen to Kirk. “He goes to joy, peace and tranquility,” McCoy says happily. “He goes to meet Landru. Happiness is to all of us blessed by Landru.” Spock gives this statement the side-eye it deserves.

We then see Kirk in another room, standing up against a wall with some heavy-duty wrist restraints in place.

[ID: Kirk standing up against a wall, being restrained by two large bars holding his wrists in place, while two Lawgivers stand in front of him, pointing their rods at him.]

This is only happiness to a very specific subset of people.

But before Kirk can meet his grim fate, the Lawgivers are interrupted by someone else coming in. This is not another Lawgiver, however, but a bald man in bright orange robes, who speaks—well, I can’t exactly say he speaks normally because no one around here does, but he at least doesn’t sound like he’s speaking through a knock-off toy Darth Vader helmet. “I am Marplon,” he tells the Lawgivers. “It is your hour. Happy communing.”

“With Thanks. Hap-py Comm-uning,” one Lawgiver replies, and they both head off to take a smoke break or whatever the Lawgiver equivalent is. Marplon steps into the nearby control booth and flicks some switches, causing the booth to slowly rotate around to face Kirk (presumably with the aid of an extra and a pulley somewhere behind the camera) while a dramatic sting plays.

Meanwhile, back in the dungeon, Spock is poking around at McCoy. Evidently someone leaning over you and almost poking you in the eye as they put their hands all over your face isn’t considered bothersome behavior under the directives of Landru, since McCoy seems perfectly fine with it and just sits there calmly while Spock does whatever it is he’s doing. Eventually, Spock grimly pulls his hands away and says, “Impossible. He’s under extremely powerful control.”

You kind of have to wonder what Spock saw in there. The nature of Landru’s control is a bit vague on the details—do members of the Body possess any degree of personality and individuality, smothered though it may be under a stupor of happy-happy-peace-and-tranquility thoughts? Or are they all being outright puppeteered by Landru? They at least seem to have enough personality to have names, and the fact that they stop and have discussions with each other seems to indicate that they aren’t a total hivemind—Tula has to be informed out loud by Bilar that the landing party are strangers in town, rather than her just knowing it automatically as soon as he knew it. But McCoy doesn’t show any sign of retaining any amount of McCoy-ness after he gets taken. He doesn’t remember Kirk and Spock at all, he doesn’t use any of his usual mannerisms, he doesn’t—as we’ll see in a bit—respond to perceived threats the way McCoy usually does, and in general he doesn’t act like McCoy-but-unnaturally-happy-and-calm so much as he acts like a completely different person. So when Spock says he’s under “powerful control” it’s hard to say whether he means that he saw McCoy being forced to feel peaceful and loyal to Landru, or if he saw McCoy in there, somewhere, possibly even aware, but no longer able to control his own actions. Either way, it’s a pretty damn creepy thought.

Unsatisfied with Spock’s analysis, Lindstrom asks if they’re, what, just going to stand around here and do nothing? Spock replies that there’s not a lot they can do, unless Lindstrom has any bright ideas about how to get through a solid stone door. Lindstrom clearly does not, because instead he just splutters about how “This is simply ridiculous, a bunch of stone age characters running around in robes--!” as if he’s got half a mind to just march out there and tell everyone to stop all this nonsense and behave, at which point presumably the Lawgivers will drop their rods and shuffle away in embarrassment. I can only conclude that Mr. Lindstrom has not been serving aboard the Enterprise very long, otherwise he would know that this is hardly any more ridiculous than the usual kind of thing they get up to. You notice Leslie over there isn’t saying anything. Leslie’s seen some shit.

Spock coolly points out that these “stone age characters” are in command of some powers that the Enterprise crew have so far been helpless to understand or resist. “Not simple. Not ridiculous,” he says. “Very, very dangerous.”

On the one hand, this could easily just be your standard sarcastic Spock response of the sort commonly seen whenever someone decides to start running their mouth off in his vicinity, but you have to wonder if he’s not also feeling particularly ticked off at Lindstrom scorning this whole situation, considering that Spock just got done with a close examination of exactly how powerful a grip Landru currently has on the mind of one of Spock’s two close friends. And his other close friend has just been taken off to have the same thing done to him, with Spock powerless to stop it. I mean, let’s put that in non-science fiction terms: imagine you woke up to find you’d been taken captive, and some of the people you were with, including a friend of yours, aren’t there. And then your captors show up and throw them back in your cell, and when you examine your friend you realize that, while you have no idea what happened to him while he was gone, he came back so badly concussed he doesn’t know who you are or where he is, and can’t even answer a simple question. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Your other friend has just been dragged off for the same treatment, and there was nothing you could do about that, either. And as you stand there, desperately wracking your brain for any way out of this, trying not to think about the state your other friend will be in when he comes back, this punk starts whining about how ridiculous the situation is, as if he’s more upset about being bested by what he views as an inferior opponent than by the damage those opponents have already caused, and the very real threat those of you remaining are still facing. Granted, I don’t think that’s what Lindstrom actually meant; he was probably just expressing understandable if poorly-worded frustration at being helpless to do anything in a situation where it feels like you really should be able to do something. But it’s not real surprising that Spock would feel rather cheesed at him about it. Y’know, if Vulcans felt cheesed, which of course they don’t.

At that point, the door opens and two more Lawgivers come in. One of them points their rod at Spock and orders him to come with them. Spock more or less shrugs and follows them out the door, leaving Lindstrom and Leslie alone to ruminate about how screwed they are.

The Lawgivers take Spock to the brainwashing room, where Marplon is releasing Kirk from the restraints. Kirk walks over to Spock with a vacant smile and tells him, “Joy to you, friend. Peace and contentment will fill you. You will know the peace of Landru.” Spock doesn’t say anything, but his expression indicates that he’s gearing up to end somebody over this.

[ID: Spock, being escorted by two Lawmakers, watching as Kirk tells him, “You will know the peace of Landru.” Spock has a particularly murderous expression on his face.]

Spock is gonna KILL GOD.

After the break, things look grim, with Spock—looking highly unimpressed--restrained against the wall while Marplon makes the lights flash and the Lawgivers point their rods at Spock for good measure. But when the Lawgivers have left, Marplon looks up and says, “Have no fear, friend. The effect is harmless.” He introduces himself and explains that he was unfortunately too late to save McCoy and the other guard, so watch out for them. But, as it turns out, he wasn’t too late to save Kirk, who was just faking for the Lawgivers.

Marplon goes on to explain that he is actually the third man in Reger’s triad (wow, small world), and that they’ve been “awaiting your return.” Spock tells him that they are not the Archons, although, really, who or what exactly these people think the Archons are is still pretty hazy. And indeed, Marplon himself doesn’t seem real fussed about the distinction, saying that, “Whatever you may call yourselves, you are in fulfillment of prophecy. We ask your help.” The poor guy is practically trembling with a mixture of enthusiasm and desperation.

Spock asks where Reger is and Marplon says that he’ll join them, adding that Reger is immune to absorption. Exactly why this should be is never explained, and neither is the question of what exactly happened to Reger after the group got captured. One would assume that being in the presence of said group would rather give the game away, but maybe Marplon was able to cover for him somehow.

But never mind Reger—what Spock really wants to know more about is Landru. But upon being asked about him, Marplon gets even more panicky and says they can’t discuss that just now because Landru will hear. Although if Landru could hear them in here, they’d already be screwed, given everything Marplon has just admitted out-loud. My best guess would be that Landru isn’t quite as omniscient as all that and the resistance members are just (understandably) a bit paranoid and superstitious, although I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that, true to form for vengeful deity-types, saying Landru’s name attracts his attention.

Marplon hands Spock a couple of the confiscated phasers, which Spock stows away just before the Lawgivers come back in. Marplon just has time to warn Spock to behave just as he saw Kirk doing before slipping back into his own charade to tell the Lawgivers that “It is done!” Spock obligingly spouts the standard peace and contentment and so on, although I can’t say he puts a great deal of effort into it. The Lawgivers seem to be satisfied, though, because they take him back to the cell without fuss.

Back in the cell, Spock meets up with Kirk. They exchange a bit of “peace and tranquility” talk very loudly to satisfy McCoy and the other guard, before Kirk drops it and mutters, “Are you alright?” “Quite alright,” Spock replies. “But be careful of Dr. McCoy.” Indeed, as soon as he says this, McCoy rises up in the background ominously.

[ID: A gif of Kirk, Spock and Lindstrom standing in a half-circle near an archway. Spock says, “Be careful of Doctor McCoy.” As Kirk replies, “I understand,” McCoy stands up in the background.]

“I FUCKIN HEARD THAT”

Kirk tries to question Spock, who says he has a theory about Landru, but he’s cautious about sharing it with McCoy hovering in the background glaring at them like that. “You speak in strange whispers,” McCoy says as they turn to look at him. “This is not the way of Landru.”

Of everyone we’ve seen being or pretending to be Landru-possessed in the episode so far, the acting choices have mostly fallen on a spectrum ranging from Takei’s “incredibly high” to Nimoy’s “barely even bothering.” (Shatner falls somewhere in the middle, around “comfortably buzzed.”) Kelley, on the other hand, opted for a direction I can only describe as “intensely Southern passive-aggressiveness.” Perhaps it’s the increased Georgia drawl, but Possessed!McCoy feels eerily familiar, like someone I’ve definitely encountered at the Dollar General before. It’s the exact kind of sinister watchfulness not quite masked by a cheerful, friendly exterior that you would expect to find in that lady at church who would never say the world ‘hell’ but gets a little too excited during the bits of sermon about damnation and is currently engaged in complex political machinations to backstab Becky from next door because she lets her kids play too loudly and sold more brownies at the last bake sale (or just in the average head of a homeowner’s association.) I half expect him to start handing out Chick Tracts at any moment.

Before that can happen, Kirk is able to pacify him with more peace and tranquility, then dramatically claps his hands on Spock and Lindstrom’s shoulders and declares “MY FRIENDS” as he ushers them away to a slightly more private corner of the cell. There Spock is able to go into his theory, such as it is. “This is a soulless society, Captain,” he explains, and given that Vulcans have quantified the existence of the soul he probably knows what he’s talking about. “It has no spirit, no spark. All is indeed peace and tranquility—the peace of the factory, the tranquility of the machine. All parts working in unison.”

“And when something unexplained happens...their routine is disrupted?” Kirk muses. Spock agrees, and says that someone must be giving the orders—but who? Landru, presumably, but Spock says there is no Landru...not in the human sense.

“You’re thinking the same thing I am, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says. “The plug must be pulled.” But if Spock is thinking that, it’s not without some reservations. Because, you know, that whole prime directive thing. They’re really not supposed to go around deposing/assassinating political leaders, even really obnoxious ones. But, Kirk says, after all about two seconds of reflection, that directive is meant for living, growing cultures, which this one ain’t. This would be a fascinating ethical point if it wasn’t so obviously a quick justification to let them get on with saving the day without all that pesky worldbuilding getting in the way.

Conveniently, before Spock can say anything in response to this, the door opens again, but this time instead of more Lawgivers it’s Marplon and Reger. McCoy immediately stands up and says, “JOY TO YOU FRIENDS!” like that guy at Wal-Mart that you were really hoping to avoid having a conversation with but you didn’t sneak out of the cereal aisle quickly enough and now he’s seen you. Marplon and Reger keep up the smiling act until they make it over to the Non-Brainwashed Club at the back of the room. Marplon’s brought them their communicators, which is helpful, but Kirk has something more in mind. What they really need, he tells them, is more information about Landru. Marplon and Reger shake their heads frantically, mumbling about “the prophecy” but Kirk isn’t interested in prophecies. “If you want to be liberated from Landru,” he tells the two men, “we’ll need your help.”

It seems he said that just a bit too loudly, though, because McCoy springs up from his seat, points dramatically, and yells, “You’re not of the Body!” Kirk tries to calm him down, but McCoy isn’t having any more peace and tranquility. He screams for the Lawgivers before rushing Kirk and trying to throttle him, screaming “TRAITORS! TRAITORS!” all the while. (See what I meant about him not responding to threats normally? McCoy wouldn’t bother to try to strangle someone if he could whack ‘em with a hypospray instead.)

The other guard joins in, taking a swing at Kirk, but Spock intercepts and tosses him to the floor. He’s a lot less helpful with McCoy, mostly just kind of standing there watching as McCoy manages to back Kirk up against a wall, still screaming. “Doc, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Kirk begs, but of course, this does nothing. In the end, Kirk has to punch McCoy and then put him in a chokehold until he drops. Kirk slowly lowers him to the floor, sadly muttering, “Aw, doc...”

Just then there’s a noise of someone approaching, and Kirk and Spock quickly duck into cover in the corners. A pair of Lawgivers enter and walk right past them, demonstrating why it’s not a super great idea to dress your law enforcement in big peripheral-vision-obscuring hoods, not to mention why most jail cells aren’t designed to have lots of great hiding spots. The Lawgivers promptly get ambushed; Kirk deploys the good old fashioned Neck Chop, while Spock, surprisingly, forgoes the usual nerve pinch in favor of just straight up decking the guy. One suspects Spock is feeling a bit crabby at the moment.

[ID: Kirk and Spock fighting Lawmakers between two arches in their dungeon cell. Kirk is standing over an unconscious Lawmaker, who is laying next to an unconscious McCoy, while Spock is leaning back to punch the Lawmaker he is squaring off against.]

DIRECT ACTION

With phase one of the classic “mug the guards and steal their uniforms” maneuver successfully completed, Kirk moves right on to phase two, stripping the robe off one of the fallen Lawgivers and putting it on over his waistcoat. While he’s doing that, he asks Marplon and Reger where Landru is. The two of them stutter fearfully a bit, but Marplon manages to explain that they never see Landru, only hear him, in a place called the Hall of Audiences--conveniently located in this very building! “You’re gonna take us there,” Kirk says, leaving the poor bastards looking like they’re about to cry. When one of them makes a noise Kirk grabs them by the shoulders and yells at them to snap out of it and start acting like men. The empathy on display here is staggering.

Spock, meanwhile, has gotten in touch with the Enterprise and asks them for a status report. Scotty’s apparently been trying to get in contact with them for quite a while now, not that he has anything particularly new to tell them: their orbit is still decaying, the heat beams are still locked onto the ship, and they’ve now got about six hours left. “You’ve got to cut them off or we’ll cook, one way or another,” he says grimly.

Kirk tells him once again to stand by and then asks after Sulu. “He’s peaceful enough, but he worries me,” Scotty replies. Kirk orders him to put a guard on Sulu, which stuns Scotty, but Kirk doesn’t offer any useful information about the situation. All he says is, “Watch him. That’s an order,” and then he hangs up.

Kirk then turns back to Marplon and Reger and says, for the umpteenth time this episode, asks them to tell him about Landru. Which at this point is starting to sound like a repeating dialogue option.

[ID: 1. A shot of Kirk with a video game-style dialogue selection in the bottom left corner, with the option ‘Ask about Landru’ highlighted and the options ‘Ask about Archons’ ‘Ask about Lawgivers’ and ‘Remain Silent’ listed below it. 2. The same shot of Kirk, now saying, “About Landru.”]

“Well...there was war...convulsions...the world was destroying itself,” Reger says. “Landru was our leader. He saw the truth. He changed the world. He took us back, back to a simpler time. A time of peace and tranquility.” Oh fuck, he was one of those dudes. Of course he was. “Everything will be alright if we go back to the old ways, when things were good and simple and peaceful because everyone was busy dying of polio.”

Asked what happened to Landru, Marplon says that he’s still alive. “He is here now. He sees, he hears.” Then he begins to break down, crying, “We have destroyed ourselves! Please, no more.”

“You said you wanted freedom,” Kirk tells him sternly. “It’s time you learned that freedom is never a gift. It has to be earned.”

Yes, yes, very pithy, but I can’t really say I’m here for listening to Kirk tell people who have lived their whole lives under a horrifying totalitarian regime that they need to Man Up. I mean, regular human totalitarian regimes fuck people up enough, let alone one where everyone is literally being mind-controlled. Can you imagine what life is like for these guys? We know that Landru will try to kill anyone that can’t be controlled, so for Marplon and Reger to still be alive means pretending, every day that they were free of Landru’s control—which, depending on whether they somehow broke free or were born immune, could be their entire lives—pretending to be controlled, pretending to be just as happy and tranquil as everyone else, never able to let slip the slightest trace of fear or anger or grief at everything you saw happening around you, lest any of the constantly watching eyes all around you catch on and you either get executed by the Lawmakers or, if you’re not so lucky, slaughtered by the angry mob that just detected a traitor, traitor in its midst. And they were still trying to resist, still working against Landru despite him being, near as they could tell, all but omnipotent. And Kirk’s gonna stand here and lecture them about courage? Sure, they’re afraid—who could blame them? Sometimes people are afraid. Sometimes people need help.

And, well, Kirk’s not helping. Oh, in a broad sense, sure, he’ll save the day and defeat the bad guy for them (spoilers). But as far as Marplon and Reger specifically are concerned, Kirk has really not bothered to help them. He hasn’t made even a pretense of answering any of their questions. He hasn’t explained anything about who the Enterprise crew are, why they’re there, what their theories are about Landru or what they’re planning to do to defeat him. He hasn’t reassured them or made any effort to quell their fears, even though from the perspective of Reger at least, the landing party arriving has directly led to a lot of those fears coming true—since they got here, they’ve drawn suspicion to him that led to his friend being killed and him being pursued and captured, probably to be executed if Marplon hadn’t happened to be around. Kirk hasn’t shown hardly any sympathy for their situation, not directly—oh, he’s muttered to Spock about what a shitshow this whole society is, but he’s not once given Marplon and Reger themselves so much as a “wow, that sucks.” Mostly his interactions with them have ranged from “a bit condescending” to “barely even trying to pretend to be patient.”

And I know I’ve just spent the last two paragraphs ranting at Kirk, but Kirk isn’t really the focus of the problem here. This kind of writing doesn’t feel right for him. Does Kirk sometimes dismiss smaller, individual problems because he’s more focused on the bigger picture? Does he sometimes push people around him a little harder than they can handle because he’s busy pushing himself too hard at the same time? Sure. Those are understandable, human character flaws that are natural extensions of the character strengths that make him a good captain in the first place. But the attitude of this whole episode feels like it has very little to do with Kirk as a character, flawed or otherwise, and much more to do with an obnoxious combination of the lofty moralizing that Star Trek sometimes dips into mixed with an especially 60s-flavored American outlook on Freedom, subsection: The Costs Of. Yeah, we know all about fighting for freedom! We know all about what it costs! We’re the big strong heroes who are gonna save you from Nazis and Communism cause someone’s gotta do it and that someone is us! TROOPS!

As for the lofty moralizing, well, the behavior of our protagonists in this episode feels rather like the other end of the Metron problem in Arena. Our heroes sweep into a Less Advanced society, decide they’re gonna fix everything for them, and proceed to do so without putting much effort into actually including the members of that society in their plans. Heck, how much time have Kirk and Spock spent in this episode chatting about the flaws and foibles of this culture right in front of Reger, Tamar and Marplon, because it’s not like they’re gonna understand us anyway, right? Of course, I’m not saying that they’re acting as bad as the Metrons—they still haven’t been that obnoxious. And of course there are extenuating circumstances; Kirk’s got crewmen down here and a ship up there in immediate danger, he’s short on time and him being frustrated with not getting the help he wants out of the locals is understandable enough. I mean, at the end of the day, whatever they do to Landru is unlikely to be worse for this culture than having the Enterprise crash into it, which is what will happen if they don’t do anything. But again, the writing of the whole thing doesn’t make it feel like our protagonists are actually being driven by desperation, danger and their own flaws; it feels like an attitude that exists on the same kind of spectrum as we saw with the Metrons: there are cultures that do things Right and cultures that do things Wrong. Some of them are more Right than humans so we should aspire to be like them someday, and some of them are more Wrong so we should help get them on the right track. The extraordinary speed with which Kirk brushes aside the question of whether they’re breaking the Prime Directive speaks to the fact that the episode isn’t interested in exploring that question in the first place. It just wants to get on with dropping cool one-liners and defeating the villain.

Kirk says they’re going to find Landru now, but Reger finally reaches his breaking point and starts yelling that he was wrong, he’ll submit to Landru, and tries to run screaming for the Lawgivers. He doesn’t get very far before Spock nerve-pinches him, while Kirk sternly says, “It’s too late for that.” Hmm, I wonder if this could possibly have been averted at all if we’d done anything to help calm him down instead of telling him to tough it out like a real man? Nah, I’m sure it was unavoidable. Kirk then turns to Marplon and says it’s up to him now to take them to Landru. Marplon looks like he’s regretting every single one of his life choices.

But evidently either persuasion or intimidation was effective, because the next thing we see is Marplon leading Kirk and Spock, both now all robed up, down a very orange corridor. He stops at the door at one end of the hall and tells them that this is the Hall of Audiences (fastpass available). Kirk, naturally, tells him to open it. “But this is Landru!” Marplon pleads. Unimpressed, Kirk tells him to get on with it and open the thing already because seriously, there’s only like ten minutes of episode left, we don’t have time for this.

So Marplon performs the Sacred Gesture of Door-Opening, which is to say he folds his fingers and bows, and the door opens. Kirk and Spock hustle in behind him and immediately discard their entire disguises, which may not have been the best idea, practically speaking, but it’s understandable enough; the Hall of Audiences doesn’t look real well-ventilated.

On a side-note, Kirk was definitely not wearing his coat when he put the robe on, but evidently it respawned in his inventory at some point because he is wearing it when he takes the robe off again.

[ID: A comparison between two images. On the left, Kirk putting a Lawgiver’s robe on over his shirt and waistcoat. On the right, Kirk dropping his robe to the floor in the Hall of Audiences, showing his coat on over his shirt and waistcoat.]

One small problem: the room is completely empty, with no sign of any Landrus anywhere. Kirk starts yelling for him, saying that they are the Archons (sure, why not) and they’ve come to have a chat. A moment later, Landru’s projection appears against the back wall. I’m not sure if they intended for his shirt to blend in with the wall so well that it looks like his head is floating, but that’s what they achieved.

[ID: Another projection of Landru, this one a headshot in which the color of his shirt matches the wall behind him so well it’s barely visible.]

a true figurehead

For a moment everyone just stands around staring at Landru, although Marplon is multitasking and also having a massive panic attack. Then Landru finally speaks up. “Despite my efforts to save you, you have invaded the Body, and are causing great harm,” he says. Kirk says they have no intention of causing harm, but Landru keeps right on going. “Obliteration is necessary,” he says. “The infection is strong. For the good of the Body...you must die. It is...a great sorrow.” Oh, well, if you feel bad about it, that’s okay then. Carry on.

Kirk says they don’t intend to die, either, but as you might have worked out by now, Landru’s not listening. “All who saw you, all who know of your presence here, must be excised,” he says. “The memory of the Body will be cleansed.”

Before Kirk can keep this one-sided conversation going any longer, Spock tells him it’s useless—this is only a projection. “Yes, Mr. Spock,” Kirk muses. “Let’s have a look at the projector.”

The two of them take their phasers out and shoot the wall Landru’s projecting onto, blasting a big hole in the masonry. For once, shooting the hologram actually turns out to be useful, as it reveals the real Landru: a giant computer. Kirk and Spock exchange some pretty smug looks. “Of course. It had to be,” Kirk says. For, as Spock points out, this whole society has all along been run to a computer’s concept of perfection—peace, harmony, all parts working in perfect unison, and absolutely no soul.

“I am Landru,” the computer trills at them. “You have intruded.”

“Pull out its plug, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says, soaring clear over not only any ethical dilemmas here but also over the question of whether “pull out its plug” is even a metaphor that would make sense in the 23rd century. But when they raise their phasers again, there’s a flash of light, and not like the kind there’s supposed to be when you fire a phaser. “Your devices have been neutralized,” the computer informs them. “So it shall be with you. I am Landru.”

Kirk, barely missing a beat over the devastating failure of his cool one-liner, says, “Landru died over six thousand years ago.” The computer insists that it is Landru. “All that he was, I am. His experience, his knowledge.”

“But not his wisdom,” Kirk says. “He may have programmed you, but he could not have given you a soul. You are a machine.”

Landru 2.0 says that this is irrelevant, they will be obliterated, and that the good of the Body is the prime directive. Okay, first of all, that’s copyright infringement. Second of all—what, exactly, is the good? The computer stutters over this, repeating, “I am Landru,” before finally managing to spit out, “The good...is the harmonious continuation...of the Body. The good is peace, tranquility. The good of the Body is the directive.”

“Then I put it to you that you have disobeyed the prime directive,” Kirk says. “You are harmful to the Body.”

“The Body is! It exists. It is healthy.”

“The Body is dying. YOU are destroying it.”

“Do you ask a question?!” Oh, bad move, that’s a sure sign you’re losing the argument. Kirk, sensing weakness, takes a moment to get into a proper computer-dissing stance before asking his next question: “What have you done to do justice to the full potential of every individual in the Body?”

[ID: A gif of Kirk standing in front of a large hole in the stone wall before him, one leg propped up on the bottom of said hole. When Landru 2.0 asks, “Do you ask a question?” Kirk puts one hand on his leg and the other on his hip, and pauses deliberately for a moment before responding.]

Landru 2.0 doesn’t know what to do with that, so Kirk just continues anyway. “Without freedom of choice, there is no creativity! Without creativity, there is no life. The Body dies. The fault...is YOURS.”

Spock chimes in at this point to ask, “Are you aiding the Body or are you destroying it?” Landru 2.0 says it’s not programmed to answer that question. At that point a couple of Lawmakers come running in, but they’re not looking nearly so intimidating anymore, yelling, “Landru, guide us!” in a panic. Kirk turns toward them and pulls out his phaser (presumably out of force of habit, since it doesn’t work anymore) but Spock says they needn’t bother anyway—the Lawmakers have no guidance, probably for the first time ever in their lives, and thus are not much of a threat at the moment. Also, they don’t even have their giant sticks, so what are they gonna do? Headbutt the intruders to death? So Kirk dismissed them and turns back to Landru 2.0, ordering it to answer the question.

“Peace, order, and tranquility are maintained,” Landru 2.0 says, having had a bit of time of think about it. “The Body lives, but I reserve creativity to me.”

“Then the Body dies,” Spock says. “Creativity is necessary for the health of the Body.”

“That...is...impossible!” Landru 2.0 cries desperately.

Marplon, who’s been standing in the back looking real worldview-shattered this whole time, finally speaks up to ask if this is truly Landru, like someone who just met their favorite celebrity and got real let down. “What’s left of him,” Spock says. “After he built and programmed this machine six thousand years ago.”

“You must create the good,” Kirk tells Landru 2.0. “That is the will of Landru, nothing else.”

“But there is evil!”

“Then the evil must be destroyed. That is the prime directive, and YOU are the evil!”

“I think! I live!”

“You are the evil! The evil must be destroyed! Fulfill the prime directive!”

At this point Landru 2.0 starts smoking, as computers are well-known to do when they think too hard. Kirk keeps yelling at it to “Fulfill the prime directive!” and Landru 2.0 eventually just starts yelling, “Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me!” until it explodes in a giant shower of sparks.

[ID: A gif showing Landru 2.0, a large boxy computer sitting behind a hole in a stone wall, sparking wildly and catching fire. The gif cuts briefly to Kirk watching, before cutting back to show Landru 2.0 smoking as the sparks die slowly.]

Yeah IT’s probably not gonna be able to help with that one.

Kirk and Spock step inside to take a look at the remains (probably not a good idea, the air quality in there cannot be good). Evidently satisfied that Landru 2.0 is well and truly busted, Kirk turns to Marplon and says, “Well, you’re on your own now. I hope you’re up to it. You can get rid of those robes, and if I were you I’d start looking for a new job.” Gee, thanks.

He then calls the Enterprise to see how they’re doing. Scotty reports that the heat rays are gone, and Sulu’s all back to normal. To demonstrate this, Sulu shrugs at the camera so exaggeratedly I half expected a laugh track to follow it, before clapping the current helmsman on the shoulder and hustling him out of his chair so Sulu can get back to work. SERIOUSLY? I’m well used to Trek blowing off the effects of things that really ought to be pretty traumatic, but even for TOS this is pretty extreme. I mean, even putting aside the whole matter of recovering so quickly and easily from incredibly powerful mind control stripping away your entire sense of self in subjugation to a mindless collective, how did he get up there so quickly? The Enterprise is a big ship! You can only get from Sickbay to the bridge so fast! Landru’s been out of commission for what, two minutes? Five minutes, generously? Hell, he didn’t even get to take the rest of his shift off? Man, they really keep your nose to the grindstone on this ship.

Kirk, evidently more satisfied with this than I am, tells Scotty to stand by to beam them up, then hangs up and says, “Let’s go see how the others are doing. Marplon can finish up here.” We don’t get to find out how the others are doing, or indeed what the heck “finish up” is supposed to mean in this context, because the scene cuts immediately back to the bridge sometime later, where Kirk is giving a captain’s log.

“The Enterprise is preparing to leave Beta 3 in starsystem C-111. Sociologist Lindstrom is remaining behind with a party of experts who will help restore the planet’s culture to a human form.”

“Marvelous,” Spock comments as Kirk finishes. “The late Landru—a marvelous feat of engineering. A computer capable of directing the lives of millions of human beings.” Pretty impressive indeed—heck, just building a computer that’s still running after six thousand years is quite incredible. Would have been nice to study it. Pity someone blew it up.

Kirk’s not feeling real sentimental about it, though. It was still only a machine, he says. “The original Landru programmed it with all his knowledge, but he couldn’t give it his wisdom, his compassion, his understanding...his soul, Mr. Spock.”

Yes, yes, so you’ve said a bazillion times already, although it’s quite a large assumption given they have no idea what the original Landru was actually like. I mean, we do know this was a guy whose response to a world in crisis was to take everybody back to “a simpler time” aka the imaginary dreamland of bitter conservatives everywhere, and that he was so convinced his method of running that society was the only correct answer that he built a computer to go on micro-managing that society in his name forever. Not to mention, y’know, the mind-controlling powers that he apparently built into it. It’s entirely possible that Landru 2.0 was not an error of programming but in fact was running exactly as intended.

“Predictably metaphysical,” Spock says, apparently forgetting that he made the exact some observation himself earlier. “I prefer the concrete, the graspable, the provable.”

“You would make a splendid computer, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says fondly. Spock, of course, looks immensely pleased and replies, “That is very kind of you, captain.”

Before these two dorks can get any further with their sweet-talk, Lindstrom calls up to say good-bye. Asked how it’s going down there, he says, “Couldn’t be better, captain. Already this morning, we’ve had half a dozen domestic quarrels and two genuine knock-down drag-outs. It may not be paradise, but it’s certainly human.” Huh. I guess that’s better than laying in the fetal position crying, which is what I would be doing in that situation. Still, good to see that this society is acting properly human now. This...non-human society.

Kirk wishes him good luck and leaves him to it. As they prepare to head out, Spock muses about, ““How often mankind has wished for a world as peaceful and secure as the one Landru provided.” “Yes, and we never got it,” Kirk says. “Just lucky, I guess.” Yes, yes, no such thing as a utopia, and all that. Personally I just fantasize about a world where I earn a living wage, but I suppose that would make for a rather more boring episode.

They exchange wry looks, and the episode ends. There’s no sign or word of any of the crewmembers who got Landru’d throughout this scene, so who knows how they’re dealing with all this. I’m assuming McCoy is off somewhere getting super drunk right about now.

The Return of the Archons is an episode that always feels to me as if someone started writing it with no idea of where it was going and just made it up as they went along, but without the bit where you go back at the end and edit everything to match. There are a lot of things that either seem odd in the context of what we learn later, or just get brought up and then never explained. The biggest offender is the Festival, which dominates the first act of the episode so much you figure it has to be important, but then it just gets dropped with no answer as to what purpose it serves, how often it happens, why older people are exempt, etc. (The James Blish novelization takes a crack at it by having Lindstrom postulate that having everyone wildly run amok for one night a year was a form of population control. Which...seems suspect to me, but hey, he tried.) But there are plenty of other questions as well, like, where’s the ‘valley’ that everyone talks about, and who, if anyone, lives there? Why are some people immune to being Landru’d? Why is there a whole special chamber that our heroes get dragged off to one by one to get absorbed, when the Lawmakers are capable of doing it just by tapping people with their rods? Why is Hacom so grumpy and un-tranquil despite apparently being a member of the Body, none of the rest of whom show that amount of individualism? Considering Landru 2.0’s range apparently extends far enough for Sulu to still be controlled while up in orbit, why didn’t it ever try to use Sulu against the Enterprise? Why does Sulu, even after being absorbed, yell at that guy in the transporter room about having the wrong clothes? How do the Lawgivers do that robo-voice thing? I’m used to having to fill in some gaps on my own to make TOS episodes make total sense, but even for TOS this one has an abnormal amount of unanswered questions, which makes it difficult for me to take it seriously as a story, even aside from my problems with the whole “FIGHT FOR YOUR FREEDOM LIKE REAL MEN” thing. On the plus side: waistcoats!

Landru’s circuit-popping demise has brought our Bluescreen Monologues tally up by one. No crew deaths this time, everyone escaped the clutches of Landru more or less intact. Next time we’ll be seeing the origins of a particularly iconic foe in Space Seed.

[clericbyers]

learning to heal (part 4)

excerpt: Mike wouldn’t let his shitty mood affect the happy air surrounding the Party. He wouldn’t be the one to make everyone upset because he had to spazz out like in the last month of freshman year when he panicked in the middle of a celebratory dinner because the waitress kept giving him looks like she knew his darkest secrets. Like she knew he liked boys and found one of his teammates cute enough to be a little flustered about it. Like she knew he and his friends were monster hunters and got 30 people killed during the summer of ‘85.

length: 4.5K words

POV: Mike Wheeler

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tag list: @vaugency , @lifeinvirtualreality , @princestanley , @lgbtqbyers , @smhbyler , @ticomat , @lightswriting , @lithhiums , @lullabyers , @byers-remorse, @cstlebyrs, @lomlbyers ♡

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“You took your time getting here!”

Mike rolled his eyes as he, Will, El, and Lucas skidded to a stop by the driveway to Dustin’s house. He was sitting on the curb with his bike and angrily glared at the late quartet. Lucas gave Mike and Will the stink eye as he bounded off his bike to stand by Dustin.

“You can blame Will and Mike; they took their sweet time getting to my place as if I don’t live a few houses away.”

Will shrugged and started biking in small circles in the driveway. El was gripping onto his waist and leaning her head on his back as he went by. “Sorry we’re late, Dustin. Mike and I went to bed later than expected and got kinda distracted when we woke up.”

“Distracted by what?” Lucas snorted. “Dust mites? The way sun filters through Mike’s shitty drapes? The feeling of blankets on your skin?”

Mike and Will exchanged a look, a look that screamed of guiltiness, and Dustin groaned. “Does it really matter what they were doing? We need to get Max and leave before the diner gets too full and starts making Mike antsy.”

Will halted his bike near Mike and he watched El’s grip on Will tighten more. “Antsy?”

“Yeah. Crowds sometimes get to me, but it’s not a big deal.” Mike shrugged and turned toward Lucas and Dustin, who raised suspicion-arched eyebrows at his words. “What? It’s really not a big deal.”

“You threw up in the back of Steve’s car just thinking about the crowd during your first relay race. Oh also, we tried to go to the movies to watch The Voyage Home last month and you spent half the movie in the bathroom doing breathing exercises.”

Lucas started laughing. “Oh my god, I still remember Mike’s face when he came back and saw the humpback whales and Spock’s headband and got so confused.”

“Hey! Look, the humpback whales part made no sense.”

“I told you already, Mike,” groaned Dustin, “Spock and Kirk needed to find the whales that sang at the same frequency as the probe since humpbacks are extinct in the future.”

“It’s still stupid! Same with Spock saying ‘the hell’ every five minutes. I didn’t miss much of anything being in the bathroom.”

“Well, I like The Voyage Home . It was a good conclusion to the trilogy.”

Mike turned on Will with an exaggerated gasp. “You wound me, Byers.”

“Are you really gonna stand here and let Will get away with acting like TMP doesn’t exist?”

“Yes, Lucas, I am, because that movie sucked ass.”

“This is why I’m a Star Wars nerd!” cried out Dustin as he stood up. “We can all at least agree that The Empire Strikes Back is the best of the three.”

Silence took to the air. Mike spoke up first. “Actually...”

“Finish that sentence, Mike, and you won’t have a tongue to continue it.”

El giggled from behind Will and Mike turned to face her out of instinct. She noticed his gaze but didn’t make eye contact and continued to stare ahead. Something in Mike broke a little seeing El unwilling to even just give him a smile. He knew he had no right to be upset over how she took the breakup even if it has been months already, he knew he broke her heart this past summer and he too was still pained by the ordeal, but he had hoped at least that maybe when they saw each other face to face it would be a happier occasion.

Will reached out to squeeze Mike’s arm and then turned back to Dustin and Lucas. “Let’s go get Max, then. She can give us a tie breaker opinion if we need it.”

Max was not enthusiastic about being asked to choose which Star Wars movie she thought was the best and mostly kept saying Return of the Jedi just to annoy Lucas. Will biked next to Mike when El transferred to Max and rode with her toward Main Street. Mike kept sending his boyfriend glances during the ride and he was always a little flustered when they happened to make eye contact and Will’s lips lifted into a small shy smile. There was something refreshing in being able to turn to his side and find such comfort as he did in Will as a best friend and as his significant other.

Mike couldn’t wait to tell the Party about how much he loved Will, about how lucky he was to fall for someone as kind and caring as the other boy. Even better, he was so extremely lucky that Will loved him back. It was nice to have this private happiness for himself and Will to share in by themselves—well, his mom and Will’s mom knew but they only ever exchanged knowing smiles whenever they caught Will and Mike standing a little closer than usual and trying to sneak cheek kisses when they passed each other by—but Mike was beyond ready to tell his friends.

Lunch was normal as usual: rowdy, loud, and uplifting as hanging out with friends usually went. Sometimes they were all so happy and normal that Mike could forget about the dark thoughts ruminating in the back of his mind, the memories that threatened to consume him when he closed his eyes to darkness. He could forget that no one knew what he hadn’t done to save people, no one knew that the monster built from the bodies and blood of their neighbors that terrorized Starcourt was a product of negligence.

It was weird how survivor's guilt worked. Mike never thought he’d really be faced with the troubling issue but he couldn’t help feeling like if they had done more, if he had focused more on what Will was facing, on what Dustin had found with Cerebo, maybe they could have saved more people. Maybe then the young couple from five houses down wouldn’t have been absorbed into a flesh monster and have their autonomy ripped from them as they melted into the single-focused mind of the Mind Flayer. Maybe then El wouldn’t be powerless, fatherless, Mikeless—not that he was the only person El lost but their closeness and desire to be together was a huge part of both their lives and losing that affected both of them.

Mike sighed to himself and closed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. Will, who was sat across from him, nudged Mike’s foot with his own and sent him a concerned look. Mike smiled back—he was fine, just thinking too hard—and nudged Will’s foot in turn. Will nudged twice, Mike nudged twice, and then they kept playing footsie under the table until Max called them out for shaking the table. Dustin then tried to have a soda chugging contest with Lucas and won with Max’s encouragement, which made Lucas playfully salty and he brooded for a good minute and talked only to El, who humored him lightly.

Will ordered a milkshake to share with Mike while the others chatted excitedly between themselves about the New Year’s celebration and fireworks that would be happening where the fair was usually held. Mike would much prefer to stay indoors watching Dick Clark count the ball drop, but he knew social interaction and connection with his friends was what he needed most. He had already spent so much of his freshman year avoiding people whenever possible; the only reason why his friends knew about his therapy sessions and medication was because they ran into him the day after he missed school and pestered him for details. Mike couldn’t even give a good reason as to why he didn’t tell Will and El, too, why he left them in the dark despite the fact they were the most important people in his life.

Mike squeezed his eyes shut and flexed his hands on the table. Now was not the time for this. He wouldn’t let his shitty mood affect the happy air surrounding the Party. He wouldn’t be the one to make everyone upset because he had to spazz out like in the last month of freshman year when he panicked in the middle of a celebratory dinner because the waitress kept giving him looks like she knew his darkest secrets. Like she knew he liked boys and found one of his teammates cute enough to be a little flustered about it. Like she knew he and his friends were monster hunters and got 30 people killed during the summer of ‘85.

“Mike,” Will called out and the soft tone brought Mike back to the table and the conversation. The vanilla milkshake stood between them untouched and he frowned. He didn’t remember hearing the waiter stop by at all. Was he that entrenched in his thoughts to block out all other senses and trap himself in his head?

“You good?” Lucas asked from Mike’s other side, chewing on a fry as nonchalantly as possible.

Mike nodded. “I’m good. Just distracted.”

“We were just talking about X-Men, it’s no biggie,” added Dustin. “Max got some comics and has been reading a few to El so we wanted to discuss some fave runs.”

Mike’s brain was blanking on him. He couldn’t even think of anything concerning X-Men besides Professor X and Cyclops. He shrugged and turned to the milkshake to occupy his mouth so he didn’t have to actually offer an opinion. He could feel Will’s eyes on him and he looked up while slurping at the shake and made eye contact. Will rolled his eyes but his cheeks were flushed and the sight made Mike smile a little. He nudged Will under the table and mouthed I love you as best he could while blocking the side of his mouth from Lucas next to him.

Will’s smile grew more and he tried to hide it behind his straw but he fell out into giggles and caught everyone else’s attention. Dustin rolled his eyes and stage whispered to El beside him, “They’re back at it again, using that secret best-friends-since-we-were-five telepathy.”

Mike stuck his tongue out at his friend after a small chuckle. “You’re just jealous that all it takes is one glance from me for Will to lose his cool.”

“Hey, I’m not that easy to break.” Will retorted with a small kick under the table. Mike pretended it hurt more than it actually did and moaned as he dramatically grabbed at his ankle.

“My ankles are and I kinda need them for track!”

Will sputtered and then fell out laughing again. Lucas was cackling into his fries and Max was helping him by patting his back when he started to choke from laughing so hard. El was watching Mike, he could feel her eyes on him, and he chanced a glance with a small smile he hoped didn’t look like a grimace.

El maintained eye contact for about two seconds before she blinked and reached over to steal a few of Max’s fries. Mike considered it a success and turned back to finish his milkshake with Will. On the ride back, Mike and Lucas rode side-by-side in the back while Will and Dustin rode together up front and El and Max rode between the two pairs of bikers. Lucas was silent for a while before he spoke up with a huff.

“So, you and Will finally pulled your heads out your asses and hooked up.”

Mike nearly biked into a tree from the shock of the sudden statement. He coughed heavily and then gave his friend a glance. “What makes you say that?”

“You have a very expressive face,” the other boy chuckled to himself. “It’s how I knew you weren’t doing too hot in a really bad way even before you went to the doctor.”

Mike bit his bottom lip. “I know you don’t want me saying thanks or whatever but I really am glad you stuck with me through that.”

“What else would I do? You’re my friend and friends don’t ditch each other when in need.” Lucas smiled. “We’ve been friends far too long; I don’t care if you’re a jock track star now, to me you’re still goofy ass nerd Mike Wheeler with the fattest crush on his equally lovesick best friend.”

Mike laughed and felt a little warmth in his chest from the comment. Lucas was always blunt and direct, which is probably why he worked so well with Max, who was equally as blunt and direct. Lucas was just as loyal as anyone else in the Party and he and Mike has been friends the longest only after Mike and Will. Mike loved him so deeply and trusted him just as much.

“Was it that obvious?”

Lucas cackled. “Are you seriously asking that question? Dude, I thought you were gonna die when Will announced he was moving. And the way you spent practically all the rest of that summer at his side? Mike, you may be oblivious but Dustin and I have eyes and we use ‘em.”

“Dustin knows, too?”

“I don’t think he knows you two are together now but yeah, he knows you like Will.” Lucas shrugged. “It was kinda just a part of the group dynamic, you know? You two liking each other and always dancing around it as if we couldn’t tell, as if you each didn’t know yourselves.” The boy huffed with a smirk. “Dustin and I used to joke about what excuse you two would pull out of a hat for Will to stay over.”

“There were never any excuses!”

Lucas laughed again. “I know but it was fun to guess. Point is, hell yeah we know. I love El and really wanted you two to work things out because you each make each other happy and you deserve that. We all do.” Mike nodded solemnly. “Still, there was always a part of me that hoped that maybe, just maybe, you and Will could find happiness together like before the Demogorgon.”

“Wow.” Mike slowed his bike as they rolled down a hill. “You know, speaking of the Demogorgon, I think I’m gonna tell my mom about everything that happened.”

Lucas gaped. “You’re what ? I thought you were gonna keep that locked up forever.”

“Yeah, but…” Mike glared at the ground. “She helped me and Will get together. She wants me to be happy and the only way that’s gonna happen is if she knows why I’m not.”

“Well, at least you’re admitting it now.”

“That I’m dating Will or that I’m depressed?”

“Both but I meant your depression.” Lucas sighed. “I know you don’t like talking about it and you like pretending that life doesn’t terrify you, but it’s okay to speak up with us. Me, Dustin, and Max. We want you to feel better, too. Don’t forget that.”

Mike’s voice was a low whisper when he replied. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, man,” groaned Lucas as he scuffed his tire against the curb, “Friends don’t need apologies or whatever for being friends.”

“I know, but—,”

“Shut up, Mike, and let it go, alright?” The boy sent Mike a warm smile. “You love to talk but right now just, I don’t know, listen and find comfort in that, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I said shut up.”

Mike rolled his eyes and steered his bike toward Lucas, who yelped and sped up his pace to avoid collision. Mike laughed and watched Lucas catch up to Dustin and Will loudly exclaiming how Mike was trying to run him into the snow. The rest of the ride to the Wheeler’s was spent in silence but Mike could feel the anxiety bubbling inside as he thought about what he would tell his mom. Will parked his bike beside him when they arrived, gently gripping his arm while everyone also attempted to suspend the inevitable split up caused by arrival.

“Good luck,” Lucas muttered when he hopped off his bike to give Mike a hug. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”

“Of course, dude.” Mike chuckled and hugged his friend back. “See you tomorrow.”

El hopped off Max’s bike and made her way to Mike and Will with a small hum. Max waved goodbye and the three watched their friends bike away as the chill of winter sank into their bones. Will shivered and Mike grabbed his hand to lead him inside, turning to hold out a hand for El as well. She blinked twice and frowned but took his hand, too, gently twining their fingers in a promise that the anger and heartbreak wouldn’t keep them from being friends. Not for long at least.

With his closest friends’ hands in his own, Mike felt courage seep into his soul and feed him the strength he needed to tell his mom the truth behind his misery.

“Mom,” he called out shakily, Will’s grip tightening with much-needed comfort.

His mom was upstairs but she came down at the sound of Mike’s voice and smiled warmly as she saw him holding hands with Will and El. “Mike,” she started happily, “I’m assuming the lunch meet went well.”

“Really well,” Mike shuffled on his feet and sent El a glance. “I, uh, I actually need to tell you something really important. And you can’t tell anyone else.”

She raised her eyebrows and tentatively sat down on the couch. “You know I won’t tell anyone about...about you liking boys. I’ll love you still, I do love you still.

Mike coughed and looked upstairs in hopes that his dad wasn’t eavesdropping. “No, I mean, I do but that’s not this conversation.”

And what a weird thing to confess about so easily. Mike liked boys. Only boys. And he confirmed it so easily like any other ‘yes or no’ question. Something in his gut churned, a mixture of relief that his mom truly didn’t care and loved him still, and fright that he confirmed aloud that his attraction to boys and boys only was real.

“What’s going on, Mike?”

The boy turned to Will and then sent his mom an apologetic glance. “When Will disappeared in ‘83, he didn’t just disappear. He was kidnapped by a monster from another dimension that got to him through a gate El opened with her mind.”

Mike’s mom blinked twice and then started laughing though she tried to hide it with a hand to her mouth. “Is that the story you kids told yourselves to deal with the fact he was missing?”

“No, Mrs. Wheeler, it’s real.” Will lifted up his shirt just enough for the burn scar to be visible. It made Mike sick to think about it, think about how they had to burn the Mind Flayer out of Will. “This scar isn’t from the stove. The monster possessed me in ‘84 and my mom and Mike and Hopper helped excise it from me. El closed the gate, too.”

“And then in ‘85,” Mike swallowed the lump in his throat, “the monster came back and...it melted our neighbors into a machine made of human flesh, blood, and bone. The gate was reopened and Hopper died trying to close it.”

“I was the one who found Will,” El spoke up hesitantly. “I found him in my mind. I can find anyone in my mind.”

Mike sent her a smile. “El has really cool powers actually; she can flip cars and levitate objects and I actually hid her in the basement during ‘83 while Will was missing.” Karen’s jaw dropped. “I’m still amazed you didn’t notice.”

“Can she,” Karen turned to El with curiosity. “Can she demonstrate?”

El shifted uncomfortably and Will spoke up. “Her powers are gone now thanks to the monster but it’s real. It’s all real.”

Karen blinked multiple times, eyes darting between the three kids with disbelief written in her eyes. She settled her gaze on Mike and crumpled. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Mike was stuck between surprise that she accepted everything so easily and guilt that he kept this to himself for so long. “I legally couldn’t; the US government is involved in all of this,” he waved between himself, Will, and El, “but you deserve to know why...why I needed therapy. Why I can’t sleep at night, how me and El met in the first place, why I fell apart when the Byers left. Why I’m so fucked up.”

Will’s grip on his hand tightened just enough and he presses himself closer to Mike’s side as a comforting force against his rapidly declining thoughts. Karen stood up and made her way to Mike with tears pooling in her emotional eyes. He was taller than her, head bowed down as he fought his own tears back— pathetic; be a leader, Michael —but he managed to make eye contact with her regardless.

“You are dealing with so much, my dear,” she started quietly. “I’m sorry you felt you had to carry the burden yourself.”

“Dustin and Lucas and Max know. Nancy, too.” Mike rubbed at the back of his neck. “The monster got Barb back then.”

Karen gasped with a hand to her mouth. “Oh, poor girl.” The woman closed her eyes to keep her tears back and then opened them with a shaky smile drawn on her painted lips. “I’m so glad you finally told me.”

Mike shrugged but he could feel happiness threatening to blossom in his chest. “I, uh, well, having Will and El back reminded me that I don’t have anyone else in the house who knows . Nancy does yeah but she doesn’t like to talk about it. And neither do I really but she’s my sister and we don’t talk about a lot of things.”

“You two are close.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that I don’t even want to be on the track team but she looks so happy seeing me on the field; I can’t take that away from her!” Mike clenched his fists angrily as the words spilled from his mouth. “She doesn’t know about me and Will or that I’m—,” the word wouldn’t come out but Mike knew they all knew what he wanted to say. “She doesn’t know a lot of things. But you do. Everything but the secret about the Upside Down. And I can’t keep this up! This lie about who I am, what I’ve seen, what I’ve done .”

Karen rushed to take Mike in her arms and he fell into her embrace just as quickly. Mike felt Will and El release his hands so he could wrap his arms around his mom and hug her tightly. She was sniffling a little, gently rubbing his back and it made Mike feel like a kid again but in a good way. It made him feel like he was 6 or 7, being soothed after falling off his bike in the driveway and scratching his knee. It made him feel like what he just relayed to his mom could easily be bandaged over like that scrape.

“Mike, I love you.” was all she said and it was all Mike wanted to hear, all he needed to hear. “I just want you to be happy . You can quit track, you can join theater, you can do whatever you want, I don’t care.” She took his face in her hands and fixed him with a steady glare. Mike couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s learning to be yourself. Let yourself be who you are, not who everyone wants you to be.”

Mike frowned. “Is this why you and Dad are thinking about getting a divorce?”

Karen froze and bowed her head. “Yes. I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to know.”

“I can handle it. He barely cared about me anyway.” Mike huffed and reached up to squeeze his mom’s hand. “I love you, Mom, yeah? We’ll both be happy.”

Karen grinned and Mike watched her turn to Will and El with equally wide smiles. El was the first to initiate the hug, brown pigtails whipping around with the intensity of the action. Will turned to wrap his arms around Mike from behind and pressed his face into his back with a hum. Mike laid his hands over Will’s and leaned into the touch with a smile. The conversation went a lot easier than Mike thought it would and the weight off his shoulders had him a little weak in the knees.

He was so lucky, oh so lucky , to have the people in his life that he did.

And when New Year’s Eve came the next day, Mike and Will told their friends about their new relationship just as they planned. Dustin pulled the two into one armed hugs, Lucas shared a knowing look with Mike, Max gave Will a high five for it all, and El...she smiled and nodded with approval and even though she already knew thanks to the conversation with his mom the day before, it was great to have her support confirmed.

“10 seconds until the new year,” started Lucas as he rocked Max in his arms.

“8 now!” Dustin shouted as he took El into his own arms for a tight hug. She laughed and patted his cheeks with a wide grin.

“5 seconds,” whispered Will into Mike’s ear as he held him close to his chest. The Party was toward the back of the crowd, hidden from the gazes of Hawkins as all eyes took to the sky in preparation for the fireworks show.

“3.” A warm kiss to the shell of Mike’s ear.

“2.” A lingering kiss to the nape of his neck.

“1.” A soft breath against his cheek.

Mike twisted and grabbed his boyfriend’s face as the crowd cheered Happy New Year and the fireworks lit up the sky. He looked into green eyes, traced the reflection of pyrotechnics in those sparkling orbs, and leaned in for their first kiss of 1987. Will smiled into it, pulled Mike closer, and ignored the whoops and cheers of their friends surrounding them.

“I love you,” Mike murmured when he pulled away, then turned to the rest of his friends. “I love you all, man. You’re the best friends a guy could ask for.”

“And we love you, too, Mike.” Dustin tagged on with a grin. “Our baby leader.”

Mike rolled his eyes and punched the other boy in the arm with a chuckle. El watched him carefully and then reached out a hand for Mike’s own. He passed it along, worry in his chest as her brown eyes filled with emotion he couldn’t understand. “I love you,” she said and it was different. It was different than the last time, not as desperate, not as needy. It was resignation and acceptance in three words, understanding and moving on in one: love .

“I love you, too,” he breathed out and then pulled the younger girl into his arms. She pressed her face into his chest and clung onto his shirt with shaking fists. “Thank you.”

El laughed. “Next time, don’t hide yourself from me. Or Will. Or yourself.”

A chill ran down his spine but he shook it off and straightened the messy hair on her head. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask for.”

[goldenworldsabound]

Here There Be Dragons IV

After a two year wait, the story continues! Spock seeks help from an unusual source, risking the mission to save the Princess.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

“I’ll catch up with you in a moment, Urbosa. There’s something I need to take care of.” Spock said suddenly. Urbosa could just barely detect the undercurrent of Spock’s tone. He wasn’t lying exactly, but he was withholding something.

She shrugged internally. She trusted him. He was welcome to a secret or two.

“I’ll see you soon then.” Urbosa replied, nodding at him. He nodded back, before walking off. With a moment of focus, he put up a block in his mind between him and Akabayashi. He didn’t need the other guard to see who he was speaking to...

The news from Akabayashi was disturbing. A dark magic amulet...dark magic was powerful, but also very dangerous. He was under no delusions that they could get away with not using its power. The consequences of that could be...serious.

He knew it was a risky move to approach Lord Viren. His loyalties lay ambiguously between the King, the kingdom, and the Princess. If he learned of their plans, he might put them in jeopardy. But he was also the clear expert on dark magic.

“Lord Viren.” Spock said, as he came upon the High Mage idly reading in a book in the library. Spock was quick to note that he looked exhausted, face drawn. Even if he had agreed with the decision, Viren was like the guards, though he had distanced himself heavily from Wendy during the incident.

Viren looked up as if startled, not realizing Spock had entered the library. “Oh, Spock.” He raised a brow at the Vulcan, face sour. “Did you need something from me?”

Spock nodded. “I wanted to find out what you know about a particular dark amulet.”

Viren tilted his head at the unusual request, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not like you to be interested in dark magic, Spock.” Viren commented, gazing at his book a moment more, as if debating whether or not to continue the conversation.

“I don’t have much time, Lord Viren. So I’m asking for your cooperation.” Spock said calmly. His expression remained blank. Viren found that irritating.

“Fine. Do you have the amulet with you?” Viren snapped, getting to his feet, not liking to be shorter than Spock. When standing at his full height he was taller than the Vulcan, and he took some pleasure in that.

“I do not.” Spock replied succinctly.

Viren frowned at him. “Then...what do you want me to do?” He asked, holding his hands out and shrugging.

“I can show you.” Spock continued, holding his hand out.

Viren looked at his hand with distaste. “The er...the Vulcan...mind thing, is it?” He asked, mouth twitching nervously.

“Not a full meld by any means, Lord Viren. Just a...memory to share with you.” This was the part he was worried about. Showing him Akabayashi’s memory of the event...was dangerous. It could jeopardize the mission. But from the state Viren was in, he was certain that he could win him over with the chance that Princess Wendy might yet be saved. The man radiated exhaustion, and sadness, and guilt. Spock understood those feelings all too well at the moment.

Viren seemed to relent. “So, what, do I just, hold your hand or something?”

Spock shook his head. “The facial points.” With a quick glance at Viren to make sure it was okay, he placed his fingers on the facial contact points. Viren’s emotions spilled into him more at the contact. As he’d suspected, Viren was a mess. He was upset. His emotions were hard to distinguish from Spock’s own.

Focus. He shared the memory he’d seen through Akabayashi. The amulet, and what Kazamoto had said about the amulet. He couldn’t do that and maintain the block - Akabayashi would be alerted to what he had done.

He removed his hand from Viren’s face, watching for a reaction.

Viren looked puzzled, furrowing his brow, narrowing his eyes and making a variety of expressions.

“That...who was that?” He asked, eyeing Spock with heavy suspicion.

“The amulet, Lord Viren.” Spock tried to nudge him away from that particular topic.

“That was the traitor, wasn’t it?” Viren seemed to grow angry. “Why are you in contact with the traitor?!”

“For the Princess.” Spock blurted the words out in a whisper, quickly, hoping to stop Viren from raising the alarm. He heard a hint of emotion in his own voice. Fear, but also...begging. “You know, Lord Viren, that we could not simply sit by-”

“Spock! You are putting the whole kingdom at risk!” Viren replied, speaking in whisper tones as well. “She’s gone, we can’t- we can’t save her-”

“We’re going to kill the dragon.” Spock’s eyes flashed with a determination, an emotion Viren had never seen in him before.

“Kill the…? But that’s…” Viren seemed stunned. Spock could see the gears turning in his head. “And you’re...asking for my help?” He grasped his staff nervously.

Spock shook his head. “Yes and no. We would not ask you to come fight with us, as you have not pledged your life to her.”

What Spock said was true. But it annoyed Viren. He thought to respond, words about how he still loved her as much as they did floating up to the surface. But he held back. Spock was right. He wasn’t willing to risk his life for her. He had given up on her. They, the royal guards, her most trusted guards, had not. What could he say?

“Then what do you ask of me?” Viren asked, sighing.

“Tell me about that amulet. Will it let us win? Does it do what the salesman said it does? And if so...will it be possible to save him?”

“Give me a second.” Viren said, thinking over what he’d seen. “Yes. That was all correct. I’ve only heard rumors of such an amulet. It’s extremely powerful. To think it was hiding in...in...some pawn shop.” He scowled. Spock stared at him blankly. He shook his head and continued. “It will be...difficult to save him.” He paused. “Unless...if you do kill the dragon…”

“The crystalline heart?” Spock asked, feeling his heart jump with hope.

“Yes, the crystalline heart.” Viren looked thoughtful. “Also a very powerful spell component. If I used that, I think that I could save him. There would even be some heart to spare.” He was getting excited and hopeful. “But, of course, first you all have to slay the dragon...I don’t envy you that.”

“So you’ll help us?” Spock asked.

Viren hesitated for a moment. “Yes. If you will save her then...yes.” He looked away.

“The cave’s exit is rumored to be-”

“Yes, I know.” Viren waved him off. “I’ll be there. Go...go save her. Don’t waste anymore time on me.” He turned to his book, pulling the ribbon bookmark into place, closing it with a soft thud.

“Thank you.” Spock said. The genuineness of his words surprised Viren. He thought to say something back. But before he could decide what, the Vulcan had already gone.

[spockfallsinlove]

Episode Coda for “The Man Trap.”

Ao3.

Spock hesitates before stepping close enough to the door to trigger it opening. His feet had taken him to sickbay, where he knows undoubtedly Dr. McCoy currently resides, on almost a whim. His brain hasn’t quite caught up yet. Hands clasped firmly behind his back, he continues to stare at the grey granules of the door, faltering.

He knows that this borders on unprofessionalism; emotionalism. But in his mind’s eye he sees the captain: sitting in a chair, immobilized, with the creature’s suctioned hand on his face, normally vibrant eyes staring ahead unseeingly, devoid of life…

It’s a powerful enough image to jolt his body into action, mind made up, emotions firmly pushed back into their rightful place.

The doctor looks up as the swish of the door announces Spock’s entrance. McCoy is bent over a desk, placing his writing utensil down onto a thick folder of paper. “Well, Spock,” he says slowly, “didn’t expect you to be here at this hour. What can I do you for?”

Spock stands in front of the doctor at parade rest, feet planted. “I wished to discuss something with you, doctor.”

“And it couldn’t wait until a more logical time of the morning?”

“Since you are, currently, working both the night and day shift of sickbay and are consequently here at early hours, I saw no reason that you would be disturbed by my request.”

McCoy seems to bite back a glare with an impatient smile. “Why don’t you tell me what you need, Spock, so I can get back to my work.”

“Very well.” There’s a voice nagging in the back of Spock’s mind, one that has a familiar Vulcan somber tone. It says to let it go, to leave. He ignores it and pushes forward. “I want to discuss the way you handled yourself in your quarters; when that creature attacked the captain.”

McCoy’s complexion darkens. “The way I ‘handled’ myself?” he repeats.

“Yes. The emotionalism you displayed was unprofessional and not to mention, dangerous.”

Advancing forward a step, McCoy’s voice goes low and quiet as he demands, “Explain what in the hell you mean, Mr. Spock.”

Spock refuses to be deterred. “The captain was in mortal danger, and still you stood by and hesitated for long moments while the creature began to kill him. A starship cannot have a crewmember lets his or her own weaknesses get the better of them in a dire situation. Especially not where the captain is concerned. Therefore, I suggest—”

“All right now listen, you green-blooded hooligan,” McCoy cuts in, jabbing a finger in Spock’s face. “I’ve kept my mouth shut up till now. Jim keeps ranting about how great you are—so I’ve kept my thoughts to myself. But now you’ve gone just too far.” He steps forward and Spock sees the skin under McCoy’s left eye twitch. “My weaknesses? You mean compassion for another life? You think I’m some cold-blooded killer that can pick up a phaser and kill a creature, just like that?”

“When the captain’s life is in danger, yes.”

“I wouldn’t have let Jim die! You could stand to learn a little bit about humans, Spock. It’s natural to have hesitation before taking drastic and violent action against something.” McCoy narrows his eyes. “Or does that not compute in that perfect, cold and unemotional brain of yours?”

Spock raises an eyebrow. That callous comment felt uncalled for; but he doesn’t acknowledge it aloud.

“That creature was the last of its kind,” McCoy continues, “and was lonely. Desperate and lonely. Do you even know what that feels like?”

Spock thins his lips, retorting, “Loneliness is an emotion.”

McCoy to bursts out a sigh. “Of course. You wouldn’t get it, so why do I try to explain it.”

“Doctor.” Spock’s voice has an edge to it that he unsuccessfully tries to suppress. “The subject of emotions and whether I feel them is As someone who should have the captain and crew’s best interest in mind, you ought to acknowledge that your actions could have resulted in a very fatal end for the captain.”

“Whaddaya want me to do, Spock, rip my own heart out so I never feel anything again?”

Spock impatiently grips the edge of the desk beside him. “Doctor—”

“Or maybe you want everyone to be as emotionless and heartless as you, and not even think about the value of a creature’s life!”

“Enough!” Spock’s fist causes the desk to creak as it bends, warped, from his grip at the same time that his voice raises. It seems to echo in the empty sickbay as McCoy stares at him, astounded.

“I find this conversation circular and unfruitful,” Spock says through barely unclenched teeth. “I just wanted to express my worries at the past situation, and advise you not to do it again.”

McCoy crosses his arms against his chest, staring at him challengingly. “Or you’ll do what?”

Spock’s hands grip themselves enough to bruise as he places them against the small of his back. “I assure you that if you endanger Captain Kirk’s life again in any way, I will see you that you are off the Enterprise.”

McCoy replies, almost sneering, “And, Mr. Spock, if you endanger Captain Kirk’s life with your unemotional behavior, I’ll see that you are kicked off of this damn ship.”

Spock allows his eyebrow to twitch minutely before spinning on his heel to exit. The door barely gets its chance to open before he storms out of sickbay. He can hear McCoy’s curses while Spock walks quickly down the hallway in the direction of the lift.

During the ride to the level of his quarters, he keeps his mind carefully blank. Meditation will solve what he feels; cool his thoughts. He never should have acted out in emotionalism to see McCoy in the first place. It was something about the way that the Captain’s life teetered at the edge, and Spock could do nothing about it from his position. That he was useless to help his Captain, his—

Spock’s fists clench against the thought. Meditation. It will solve this.

He is nearly to the door of his quarters when he hears his name.

“Mr. Spock, do you have a moment?”

Spock takes a breath to steady himself, then turns to face the concerned captain. “Of course, sir.”

Captain Kirk takes a breath, opening his mouth but pausing, as if not sure where to begin. “I just had a comm from Bones. He was pretty upset.”

“I see.”

“Amidst all the swear words, I heard your name quite a few times.”

“Indeed?” Spock asks cooly.

Kirk slowly nods. “Something about… professional harassment?” His eyes search Spock’s impassive gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know what he’s talking about, do you, Spock?”

Straightening, Spock fixates on a point past the Captain’s eye level. “I merely relegated my concerns to the doctor of his emotional display this evening, that put many people in potential danger.”

“Ah.” Kirk stares at the ground, chewing his lip in thought. When he looks up at Spock again, his eyes are disarmingly somber. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Spock. Bones is cut up as it is about the whole situation. And yes, I know you don’t agree with human emotionalism—but Bones is a good man. You can’t fault him for a faltering moment, on his part.”

Spock, thoroughly disagreeing, nods slowly. “Yes, Captain.”

Kirk smiles gently. “I know you don’t believe me. But perhaps one day you’ll understand, being half human yourself.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes to the ceiling at the comment, Spock nods again.

Kirk reaches out and claps him on the shoulder. “Well, it’s been a long day,” he says. “Time to get some sleep.” He turns on his heel, begins to walk toward his own quarters that are directly next to Spock’s.

The word is out of Spock’s mouth before he can stop it. “Captain…”

Kirk turns; green eyes catching the artificial light of the hallway. “Yes, Mr. Spock?”

For a moment, Spock wonders how it would feel: to not only acknowledge his relief at the fact that Jim is now alive, but to also tell his captain that he felt that way at all. To succumb to this impulse to act as though Jim were a friend in a human way; it would be thoroughly un-Vulcan. And yet, for a moment, Spock couldn’t care less about what is Vulcan or not.

But it’s only for a moment. Straightening his spine and clasping his hands behind his back, Spock assumes a professional parade rest. “It is nothing, Captain. I will report to you on the Alpha shift at 0600 hours.”

Captain Kirk pauses, looking at him strangely. A smile dances on his lips. “Very well. Goodnight, Mr. Spock.”

Spock finds, inexplicably, that his meditation is tumultuous that night.

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[winterverses]

Walking Wounded - Chapter Forty-Nine

Waking up in an isolation room in the med bay was a little like waking up in heaven. Kirk felt his stomach under the bandages; Bones had patched him up, he was sure of it. There was a bit of weakness, but nothing that worried him. “Report,” he croaked. No one answered. Pushing himself up in bed, he cleared his throat and snapped, “Status report!”

Sulu stepped into the room, his relief evident. “Captain. Spock is at the conn, Chekov at the helm.”

“Good. Casualties?” Kirk swung his feet over the side of the bed.

Looking uncomfortable, Sulu said, “Captain, medical orders--”

An alarm started going off the moment he tried to stand. “What the fuck is this?” Kirk said, slapping at the machine that appeared to be making the noise. He didn’t see the off switch anywhere. “Sulu, casualties?”

Hayes came stomping into the room. “Get back in bed. Now.” Her voice was clipped, her eyes already fierce.

Arguing with Hayes never seemed like a great decision, even in the moment. He did it anyway. “I have work to do, Dr. Hayes--”

Waving away his words with a bandaged hand, she broke in. “And you can do it from here. I’m not stupid. I’ll make sure you have whatever you need. But you’re going to stay in bed because if I have to wake Leonard up for another three hours of surgery, I will kill you myself.” She poked her head out the door, calling to someone else. “Ensign Maroa. You’re assigned to the Captain. If he gets out of bed, you come get me, but if he asks you to bring him anything, you do it.”

Kirk sighed. “I feel fine.”

“That’s because I have you drugged to the gills,” Hayes said. “Get back in bed.”

“Claudia--”

“How the fuck did she make you listen?” Hayes grumbled under her breath.

“Where is she?” Kirk asked. He knew the answer wasn’t good when Hayes pressed her lips together.

“She’s resting. You can’t see her. It wouldn’t be good for either of you.” Dr. Hayes shook her head, her tone softening. “Jim, get back in bed, get your reports and your work done. You need to be the Captain for a while, and once you’re done, we’ll talk about her.”

Claudia’s advice was too sensible. “How do you know? How do you know what it would do--”

“Because she’s either catatonic or attacking, and she’s only let Uhura anywhere near her,” Hayes snapped. “She might attack you too. She might not. But we don’t need to find out right now and you have other duties.”

Kirk felt himself swallow hard. “You’re right,” he said. “Sulu, casualties.” He sank back down on the bed, and let Claudia check his monitors and fuss with the sensors.

“No casualties, Captain, only injuries. We took them completely by surprise. A few ships managed to get out of the hangar, but we disabled them before they could do any real damage. None escaped. The entire base is locked down, and the most important prisoners are aboard ship, in the brig. Chekov has full reports on the ground teams. Uhura took Section One. Captain Vergne caught your transmission after some subspace reflection and beamed in to get you out of there.” Sulu stood up straighter. “She asked that you contact her when you can.”

The question he hadn’t wanted to ask. “What happened to Loche?” A fairly large part of him hoped to hear something final.

“In the brig, sir.” Sulu shook his head. “Persuasive son of a bitch. The guards don’t talk to him anymore, under orders. He got just enough medical assistance to keep him functioning without any need for anyone to check up on him.”

Well, that was not his optimal solution, but Kirk doubted the Federation would ever let him out of rehabilitation. Good enough. “How many prisoners?”

“About three hundred, sir. And then there’s the women. They’re… they need help. They’re worse than Anne said. They love him. Command is sending medical and transport ships. They’re on the way.” Looking out the door, he said, “Ensign Maroa, get us a few padds, some holosketch displays, a portable viewscreen, some coffee, and something to eat.”

“No coffee,” Ensign Maroa said. “Doctor’s orders. No caffeine.”

“Well, get me a coffee, and get him--” Sulu looked at Kirk.

“Just water.” No coffee? This was going to be great.

“Water.” Sulu looked back at him. “I could use a beer,” he said glumly.

“So could I.” Kirk shook his head, “Okay, off the record, before I get caught up on the official version, what happened?”

Sulu shook his head. “I wasn’t there, sir, but apparently Anne tried to stop your bleeding-- except she wouldn’t let anyone near you, so when McCoy got there, she just about took his face off when he tried to get to you. They had to get Dr. Hayes down from the ship. Between her and Uhura, they got Anne subdued. She’s a lot handier with a knife than anyone knew.”

“He made her,” Kirk said hollowly. “She told us once that he made her hurt people. She didn’t want to remember because she hated herself for doing it.”

“Are you sure we can’t just shoot him out an airlock?” Sulu said, his eyes hard enough that Kirk wondered if he was actually considering it. “Best thing I can think of--”

“He’s going to trial, no matter what.” Sighing, Kirk glanced up, accepting food and water from one of the nurses who came to deliver the first load of things Sulu had asked for. Three or four padds sat on the tray. “If she’d killed him then, that would have been different, but…”

“I know, sir. I wasn't serious.” Somehow that didn't ring true, but there was no point in pursuing it. Sulu drank his coffee and tapped on one of the padds. “Anyway. Captain Vergne heard your call and got the co-ordinates from Chekov, then beamed in. She’s the one who brought McCoy. I’m telling it all out of order. Sorry sir.”

“It’s fine, Sulu.” Kirk motioned for him to continue.

“Captain Vergne was there first with McCoy. She couldn’t restrain Hardesty enough to let McCoy work on you. Uhura came after she finished her sweep of Section One. Apparently she just sealed a lot of the rooms shut, said if they were sealed in they'd have no chance to rack up more criminal charges. She should get her formal command training soon, she did great,” Sulu said. “She ordered Hardesty to stand down and it looked like it worked, but we couldn’t trust her. McCoy was busy with you so we brought in Hayes for the other injuries. Hayes shot her up with a sedative and got her on the ship. She, uh… she didn't like that. But after that everything was over. Just mopping up.”

Kirk frowned. “Wasn’t there a baby? I thought I saw a baby.”

Sulu looked awkward. “Uhura said it’s the daughter of a woman Anne killed. They managed to save her even though she was premature and they had very few facilities. She’s around here somewhere. They won’t give her back to the women.”

“They?” Kirk asked.

“Dr. Hayes and Dr. McCoy. They’ve unofficially adopted her. Uhura said her name’s Lilla.” Sulu smiled. “She’s a tough little thing. I’ve been spending my free time with her. I mean, and waiting to notify you. Sir.”

Kirk couldn’t help a small grin. “Okay, I think I’m caught up. Let’s get to work.”

Much, much later, after the orders were written up and issued and Sulu was gone, Kirk convinced Claudia to let him see Anne. She’d frowned, but hadn’t put up that much resistance. “She’s just next door,” Claudia said. “We’d thought maybe if you were close…”

“Yeah,” Kirk said, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Slapping irritably at the alarm that went off, he got rid of the sensors. “Look, I’m not going to sit in a wheelchair--”

“I know,” she said. “At least lean on me.” With the touch of a switch he hadn’t seen, the alarm turned off, and then her shoulder was under his arm, her arm supporting his back. “A few days, that’s all. Leonard wanted to keep you sedated, but I knew you wouldn’t like that.”

“Thanks. Bones does his own thing a bit too often when I’m his patient.” Kirk snorted. “Thinks if I’m not awake for it, he can get away with it.”

“He’s always been that way,” Claudia said, but her laugh sounded forced. “Come on.”

She walked him over to the next isolation room, where he saw the slim figure sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. Her hair was loose, her eyes unfocused, her body clothed in one of the sick bay gowns. He had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t looking at Anne, that she’d left the room and was about to come back to it any moment. But it was her, of course, and Kirk didn’t know what to do. “How long has she been like this?” he asked softly, as if Anne could hear him through the wall.

Maybe she could. He saw her slowly look over in their direction, though not exactly at them. Her eyes were wide open, blank, reflecting nothing of her. Her expression was just as unreadable.

“She doesn’t do that very often,” Claudia said, her voice sounding encouraged. “I don’t think we should test it today, but maybe when we know we can get you out of there fast enough if she becomes violent--”

“How often has that happened?” Kirk asked. There was something here he wasn’t getting.

“She only jumps right to violence when she doesn’t want to do something.” Claudia looked at him. “Most of the people who’ve gotten it bad have been men, Captain.”

“She’s got her reasons,” Kirk said. The knowledge chilled him, as if he’d suddenly breathed in ice. There hadn’t been time, had there? They’d only been ten minutes away. “Test her for pregnancy. Loche said something about making her have his son.”

Claudia’s rich fawn skin paled, her freckles showing. “I’ll get it done.”

“Tell her the result.” Kirk couldn’t believe there was no one in there. “Tell her everything. Everything you think she might want to know. Get her whatever you think she'd want from our quarters. If we can get Spock in there--”

“He’s already refused. She’s too unstable. Any pressure at all and she might not come back.” Claudia sighed. “I agree with him. This looks like a psychotic break. She needs time to come out of it and heal.”

Kirk stepped toward Anne without even thinking about it. “She needs people she can trust,” he said.

“You can’t be that person right now, Captain. You’re hurt, and we can’t risk her hurting you any more. I’m sorry.” Claudia closed her eyes. “I’ll try, until we know she won’t go after you.”

Looking into those blank eyes, he wasn’t sure whether this Anne was capable of hurting him or not. But the Anne he’d seen with Loche had been, definitely, and she hadn’t done it. “I’m not afraid of her,” he said. “She’s still Anne.”

“That’s why we’re keeping you near. If she responds well to you, we’ll know. And you can see her all you want, even if you can’t go in the room.”

“Don’t you ever give her any privacy?” Kirk asked, offended on Anne’s behalf.

Claudia shook her head. “We need to be able to observe her. But we can try it.” She gestured to the room he'd woken up in. “Captain… get back to bed. You need a few days of rest.” Her brows drew together in a small frown. “He almost had you, you know. That wound would have been fatal even a hundred years ago. She kept you from bleeding out or going septic when she just pressed the wound shut instead of trying to put everything back inside the way most people would. It was a matter of seconds.”

“It’s almost as if she knows a bit about medicine, don’t you think?” Kirk said, letting Claudia lead him back to his bed. “Like she’d, I dunno, written a book or nine where medicine was about the same level as the tools she had at hand.” He couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“What are you trying to say, Jim?” Claudia asked.

“I think she’s there. And I think she doesn’t want to be.” He sighed. “I don’t know how to make her want to come back, but I’ll figure it out.”

[impalaanddemons]

Good Girl - Part 10

Summary: Werewolf!Reader Story. Readers a young doctor and uses her skills to keep her condition hidden, until she transfers to the Enterprise and tries to deceive a certain grumpy Doctor

Bones x Reader

Wordcount: 2060

A/N: I am sorry for how long it took me to write this part - but as you all know, things are difficult right now. I hope you like it and I’ll continue the story as soon as I have time to continue writing (I do write every spare second I get, which shows how many spare seconds I have right now)

This could be AOS and TOS

Warnings:  Mentions of Sex, angst

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9

Emptiness followed McCoys departure and stretched from seconds to minutes, from minutes to hours. At some point you got food and at another point Chapel made her appearance. It was after Beta, the security guys watching your cell had switched shift about an hour ago. It was like another world behind your cell, a world you had no part of any more. They didn’t even seem to really care, but maybe that was your imagination, feeling more detached from the world outside your own then ever. Not even Chapels bright, kind smile managed to brighten your mood significantly, the words of your boyfriend, your partner still echoing in your ears. I am so stupid.

„How are you holding up?“ she asked and sat down in front of your cell, grabbing a chair and pulling it over. „I brought you chocolate.“

You raised your eyebrows, forcing a weak smile to your lips. „Chocolate?“ „There’s no ill in space chocolate won’t lessen.“, she mused and gave you the kindest and most honest smile you’d seen since your incarceration. For all that had happened she seemed completely unfazed by the events unfolding - or blissfully uninterested of what you were. Shoving the chocolate through a temporary hole in your cell wall, her blue eyes traced over your face. „Take a bite, Y/N.“ - though kind and warmhearted and smiling there was a resolve behind her words that easily matched the fiery temper of Bones. Obediently you took a bite, but the warmth that spread through your chest was that of another friendly being close to you. The Enterprises’ head nurse continued watching you, seemingly comfortable with the silence that stretched between the too of you. You caught a whiff of medbay in the air, a scent that followed everyone along that worked there. It reminded you of home.

„He’s been hard on you, hasn’t he?“ You gave a noncommittal shrug and took another bite of chocolate. „You know, Y/N,“ she leaned back in her chair and looked politely down to her fingernails. „I’ve known Doctor McCoy for a while now and…“ she deep breath and lifted her head back up. „He’s not …“, she stopped again and you cocked your head. „He’s a kind man, if he allows himself to be that way.“ Chapel finally said, nearly whispering, as if talking about a long lost lover. „And he’s an understanding man, if he is given the time to work through things.“ You nodded slowly, feeling a tiny ache pinching at your heart. You felt the sudden urge to touch her. Or be touched. „Did he .. tell you?“ the question fell from your lips before your brain realized it. „About what he had said?“ Another smile tugged at her lips as she shook her head. „No.“ „Then how … ?“ „As I’ve told you: I’ve known him for quite some time, Doctor.“ Another pause followed, time enough for a lump to form in your throat while going through the words that had fallen for the hundredth time today.. The desire to change and give into your primal self grew in your chest, but you were not yet ready to face your raw emotions. Bottled up in some dark corner of your mind you feared it would probably kill you. „He has a tendency to … get in his own way.“ she finally said, matter-of-factly, and let out a small sigh. „How is Ensign Bancroft?“ you said, changing one uncomfortable topic for another. „He’s in a coma. His body is …. fighting…whatever disease he’s got. We’re trying to work it out.“ You nodded slowly, guilt weighing heavy on your shoulders. Chapel smiled again and knocked at the glass wall with her knuckles, as if to replace a friendly pat on the shoulder with that gesture. „Keep the chocolate, eat up and don’t let your head down.“ A small smile crept upon your face. „I’ll try my best.“ „Good girl. Everything else will sort itself out, eventually“ Chapel said, smiled, got up and left the room.

Gammashift meant night shift and only a skeleton crew remained to man the Enterprise. The lights were down, only main gangways fully lit. A comfortable darkness had blanketed your cell, the glas wall even lowered visibility to outside your cell,so that you’d be comfortable and not kept awake by the light at the desk of the remaining security personell. You lay on your back, arms crossed behind your head and slowly drifted off to sleep.

You ran. You felt cold air on your naked skin. Earth still warm from the last rays of sun beneath your feet. Your toes dug deep into the earth as you propelled yourself forward. You ran. Breathing, rythmically, air pinching each time you drew it into your lungs. There were feet next to you. Running along. One-Two - Three-Four. You turned your head but could not see. Your own heartbeat was too loud, but faintly, as if far away, there was another one. „Who…“ the figures footsteps beat louder now. Faster. It advanced into the darkness that enveloped everything before your eyes. „Wait“, you whispered and ran faster. Nothing. No heartbeat. No footsteps. Just silence. You stopped dead in your tracks as something -

You yelped awake. It was still dark and Alpha still seemed far away. Nothing. Already the memory of your dreams slipped away from the tight grip of consciousness. But still. A feeling nagged you, but you couldn’t pinpoint it and experienced had taught you not to listen too closely to what the wolf tried to tell you in your human form. With a sigh, you fell back on your bed and slipped into dreamless sleep.

Breakfast came and went without another incident. Time slipped by uneventful and change of shift marked it’s passing. It was in the middle of Beta when the captain himself made his appearance, followed along by his first officer like an oversized vulcan puppy. You straightened up immediately. „At ease“, Kirk said at once. He positioned himself in front of your cell and his kind puppy smile was as unreadable as Spocks stoic expression. A slight nausea swept over you. „Doctor Y/N“, he began, doing nothing to ease your tension by extending this longer then necessary. „I am very happy to tell you that investigation showed no evidence of you being our suspect.“ Silence fell. All thoughts went blank for a second. „I.. what?“ you gasped in disbelief. „Doctor McCoy was kind enough to provide a blood sample to our laboratories.“, the Vulcan continued what his Captain had begun and watched unmoved as your shoulders sank. „Evidence suggests that you are not responsible for harming Ensign Bancroft, therefor your detention is without a legal basis and outside of starfleet regulation.“ „You’re free, as I said.“ Kirk said, as if a translation was necessary, and waved to the guards. „You heard me, that woman is free to go.“ The guard tapped on it’s PADD and the glass wall all but disappeared. You still stared at Kirk and his first Officer in disbelief. „And.. what about…?“ you began, only to be cut off by another hand wave from your Captain. „Until we decide how to handle the situation, you’re released from duty but free to assist Doctor McCoy should he ask and you feel up to the task.“ You nodded slowly. „Aye, Sir.“

A hot shower and a fresh blue dress later you felt ready to head back to medbay. Sitting around had never been your strong suit and as a meeting with Bones was unavoidable, you preferred to chose the place of the battle yourself. That’s how you made you’re way through the Enterprise and how the scent of medbay greeted you long before you laid your eyes on it, as always. But this time it filled your heart with dread, no matter how prepared you thought you’d be for what was coming.. It felt like you were approaching at a creeping speed. You knew you weren’t, but still - every step you made seemed to slow down time, to stretch a second into a hours. Entangled with Medbay was the scent of Bones. He and medbay were one. Inseparably connected. You turned around a corner, took another deep breath and stepped in. There he was. Blue shirt, nicely wrapped up in his uniform and work, his dark eyes concentrated on his PADD. „I report back for duty, Doctor McCoy.“ He lifted his head for a second and you could see ..nothing. Too much at all. „Good.“ he said, seemingly unmoved, applying a Hypo to his patient without looking up again.„We’re one Doctor short and could use the help.“ if there was an attempt of a joke, it fell flat in light of the situation and your current lack of humour. „Security managed to get a couple of Ensigns hurt on our recent away mission - get started.“ And so you picked up work again, not exactly where you left, but close enough. Bones busied himself with patients and shouting and being his usual grumpy self, while you worked through broken bones, a nice laceration and some variants of the common space cold. A case of alcoholism busied your mind, discussing a treatment plan with one of the nurses until you noticed that it was already late into Gamma and the amount of patient slowly ebbed away. Bones was still there, as always. A feeling of familiarity eased into the situation. It would be easy to just get up, ask for dinner, just as before. A tranquilizer would be nice now. Just to get that damn heartbeat down. Not used to be fully awake. A deep sigh escaped your lips and you rubbed your temples while leaning over that last bit of report you wanted to finish. A nice tranq. Why not use one. Soothe the animal inside. Goraning, you rubbed over your forehead and shook your head. „Is everything okay?“ his voice was behind you all of a sudden. „Yes…“ you turned around to face his stern expression. „No..“, you corrected yourself and forced half a smile on your face. „I’m having headaches for the past few hours. And .. it’s .. complicated.“, mumbling the last part you averted his eyes and stared over his shoulder. Of course he had his medical tricorder in his hands only seconds later, putting the damned thing to your face. You suppressed a shiver as his hands brushed over your skin. „You’re completely off tranquilizers right now?“ he asked. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face now. „Aye“, your answer was barely a whisper. His warmth left your for a second, then he was back and grabbed your arm. „Damn you, woman. You’re on cold turkey. I’ll give you one now, another one tomorrow evening. We’ll stretch intervals to two days then. We need to monitor your vitals. See how your body reacts“ and pushed a hypo into your arm. „And yes, I had your secret stash collected by one of our nurses.“ he added. The deep frown on his forehead intensified. His voice was just short of a deep growl, a sound that resonated deep within you. „I’m .. sorry…“, you whispered. „I could’ve …“ he began and stopped himself, dragging his right hand over his face. He let go of your arm. Suddenly you could see just how tired he really was. „Y/N. I … We…“ His sentence ended in an unfinished sigh. „I am so sorry, Len.“ you repeated and though a part of you revolted you knew you sounded like pleading. „I could’ve lost you, Y/N“ he finally said, staringdown at his hands. Silence again, as you carefully stretched your fingers to meet his. His touch was soft as he gently grabbed your fingers. Warm and kind and everything he did no muster the courage to say. „I’m sorry I hurt you.“ you whispered. As you looked up to him the stern expression on his face softened. „Dinner?“ „I’d love to.“

The sound of a medical alarm woke you up. Confused you stretched out your arm, only to land on a communicator the same second another, bigger hand did. Ah. Yes. „It’s mine.“ the gruff voice of McCoy muttered, grabbing the thing with his one hand and not lifting the other from where it rested on your hip. He had answered your most urgent question right after you had finished dinner. Take that dress off, darling. He did not fear to touch you. Nor did he shy away from you after what he had seen. I did not tell you to take that off, yet. Still, there was something different. His touch was more firm, his kisses more fierce then before. There was a desperation you had not felt before. He cared. Deeply. It would take time before everything settled down. Bones sat up abruptly next to you, startling you out of your thoughts. „What happened?“ „Bancrofts dead.“ he said and his voice fell flat. „He’s been killed.“

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[jamest-kirk]

Hi there fellow Dutchie! Love your HCs :) I'd love to read one where the entire crew of the Enterprise (including Bones) finds out about Jim-on-Tarsus by some leak to the press about the identities of the Tarsus Nine. Thank you so much

Jim is over it. His childhood sucked. His teenage years were not great either; mother gone for work months at the time, and a negligent stepfather. But all in all, Tarsus doesn’t haunt him. Shaped him as a person, but he doesn’t think it haunts him, still. He doesn’t really have nightmares about it, but he avoids extremely violent missions when they can, and he doesn’t watch gory movies. Thankfully, Bones hates those, too. And honestly, Jim is fine. He lives his life the way he does; getting into dangerous situations almost daily, but phasers are almost always set to stun, never to kill.

But then this history docu channel catches them by surprise. It’s on in the recreation room one evening. Spock and Uhura are watching it, Jim’s just trying to beat Chekov at chess, Sulu and Scotty are quietly bickering about the most effective way to fly those old fashioned planes. Bones is on the couch next to Spock, reading a cheesy romance novel about ancient times. Outlander, or whatever. Jim teases him for it frequently, but Bones is a romantic at heart, and Jim wouldn’t really take him any other way.

He hears the name of Tarsus IV briefly from the TV screen, and he thinks he imagined it. But there it is again, and Jim’s mind just blanks. He stares at the chessboard, but his brain can’t focus on it at all. His gaze changes to the screen, and it shows re-enacted footage of the small planet. Farming fields, the downtown area. It’s not filmed there, clearly, because Jim doesn’t recognise the streets he roamed as a kid.

“Kirk,” Chekov calls out to him, and Jim turns his gaze away from the screen. “Huh?” “It’s your turn, Captain. Unless you want to call it quits and I win?” Jim glances at the smugly grinning Chekov, but he feels Bones is looking at him, too. “You okay?” Bones asks, and Jim nods. “Fine, yeah,” he says, and then he looks back at the chessboard.

The documentary calls out the mere handful of survivors of “One of the worst massacres in colonial outer planet history’, and they call Jim Kirk’s name before Jim can switch the channels. It’s excruciating, he feels all the eyes are on him, but Jim doesn’t want their pity. “What?” He asks, “I’m fine.” But he does gets up, and he leaves.

Bones follows him, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks. “Jim-” he says, but Jim frowns. “What, Bones? I’m fine.” “That’s why you’re leaving the room in a hurry, I bet.” “I don’t want you to treat me different knowing what I’ve been through.” “Have I ever treated you different?” Bones asks, and Jim frowns. “Well, no, but Tarsus is always so hushed and tiptoed around,” Jim says. “Jim,” Bones sighs, letting go of Jim’s arm, “do you really think I didn’t know?” “Huh?” “I’m your doctor, Jim. I’ve seen your birth certificate,” Bones says, and Jim simply stares at him for a while. “You never said anything.” “It’s not really my place to call that out, is it?” Jim glances at him, the man he knows and cherishes so dearly. “But you want to,” he says, and Bones sighs. “Desperately.”

So Jim does tell him. It feels weird, it’s been so many years it almost feels like he’s narrating the documentary instead of his own experiences, and Bones calls him out on that almost immediately. Then Jim starts telling him about the farm fields, and the games they used to play there. How his old neighbours would scold them and check them for ticks and fleas afterwards. Warm summers spent in the small creek in the woods. Jim doesn’t remember much about school or how the colony functioned, but he remembers the sound of space shuttles flying over the woods and fields. He remembers his classmates. “How’d you survive the night?” Bones asks, pulling Jim away from pleasant memories, and Jim frowns. “I was on the list to survive because of my mom,” he says, “but I wasn’t home when the news hit.” “Your mom knew that was gonna happen?” “What? No! They didn’t inform them beforehand, only when the decision had already been made.” “So you waited until sunrise?” “No, I wasn’t home when the news hit. I was with friends at the creek. We heard gunfire everywhere, so we ran home. The neighbours hid us in their basement. When we got out in the morning, they were dead. Everyone was dead, Bones.” Bones listens quietly, and Jim is thankful for the hand resting on his own to stop him from fidgeting. Then, Bones says; “you want to go back?”

It looks nothing like Jim remembers. Most houses are gone, others are in a state of decay. A few new farmers have settled, but they are instantly welcoming to Jim and Bones when they get there. “Are you okay?” Bones asks, and Jim doesn’t answer that. Instead; “this is where my house used to be,” he says, walking over to the overgrown walls and collapsed roof. “Looks cozy,” Bones says, and though Jim shoots him a glance, he’s secretly grateful Bones doesn’t treat him like porcelain. Makes light of a dark situation, and it makes Jim more at ease, too. “C'mon,” Jim says, reaching out for Bones’ hand, “I’ll show you some place real cozy.”

The creek is unchanged. A bit wilder, trees are bigger. Darker. It’s immensely green because humans leave it alone, and Jim points out where they used to swim or fish. “You can’t see any of the destruction of the towns here,” Bones says, and Jim nods. “Mom and I would camp here when she was home.” “Did you enjoy camping?” “Sure.” “Maybe we should,” Bones says, and Jim looks up. “Huh?” “Y'know, the two of us. Fishing, sleeping in a tent, all that jazz.” Jim laughs at that suggestion. “Do you even know anything about camping?” Jim asks, and Bones simply shrugs. “I’m a quick learner,” he says, “and I have more patience than you when it comes to fishing.” Jim grins, cupping Bones’ cheeks, feeling strangely at ease in a place he’d sworn never to even really think about again. “Thank you,” Jim says, and Bones shrugs again. “I’m just being a good doctor,” he says, and Jim laughs. “You this close to all your patients, doctor?” He asks, smiling against Bones’ lips when the other leans in to kiss him. Bones runs a hand through Jim’s hair, and he smiles, too. “Only the insufferably handsome ones.”

[evans-addicted]

McCoy’s Dilemma

Request: a story about McCoy x Reader where McCoy ends up knocking put reader because she is Pike’s daughter and he is ordered to surrender himself.

(McCoy x Reader) warnings: action, violence, some swearing, sorry no fluff or smut. Alternate/added storyline to the J.J. Abrams Star Trek movie.

Words: 1,202

Summary: You are Lieutenant Pike assigned to the bridge of the starship Enterprise. Yes, Captain Pike’s daughter. You fought long and hard to get the assignment as Starfleet was reluctant to let you serve under your father to avoid the appearance of nepotism. While at the academy last year, you had met and started dating Leonard McCoy. You graduated last year but you were taking more classes while the Enterprise had not been given a mission yet. Until today when Starfleet received a distress call from Vulcan. With the primary fleet engaged in the Laurentian system, all officers and cadets were ordered to leave right away.

***In the hangar after getting their assignments and Kirk being told he was on academic suspension, therefore, he’s grounded until the academy board rules**

“Gee Bones, I guess sleeping with the captain’s daughter has paid off for you. Getting assigned to the Enterprise and all” quipped Kirk. “Very funny Jim, that’s not what happened at all. I just happened to be top of my class and the best doctor out of this class. Having Y/N on the same ship will be a plus. And for once in my life, I think I deserve a plus” rebutted Leonard.

“Yeah. Yeah, you go, be safe” Jim sulked.

“Damn it….come with me” Leonard reluctantly decided to go against his better judgment.

 ***Cut to the ship coming out of warp to join the rest of the fleet that was being destroyed by the Romulan behemoth.***

The ship was being jostled from the shots being fired by the Romulan ship. Spock snaps to Pike “Captain, they’re locking torpedoes!”

“Full reverse, come about Starboard ninety degrees! Drop us down underneath them! Prepare to fire all weapons!” Pike orders.

Uhura interrupts “Captain, we're being hailed!”  Pike looks over and nods. Uhura turns on the viewscreen, Nero appears. “Hello” he says calmly.

Pike replies “I am Captain Christopher Pike, to whom am I speaking?”

“I am called Nero” he simply states.

“You've declared war against the Federation. Withdraw, and I'll agree to arrange a conference with Romulan leadership at a neutral loca—“.

Nero interrupts “I do not speak for the Empire. We stand apart. As does your Vulcan crew member... isn't that right? Spock?”

Everyone turns and stares at Spock, he rises and walks forward from his station. “Pardon me. But I don't believe you and I are acquainted.”

“... no, we're not. Not yet. I would like you to see something, Spock. Captain Pike… your transporter capability is disabled. You will man a shuttle and come aboard the Narada for negotiations. That is all” his transmission ended and the screen went blank. You stared at Captain Pike, your father, eyes wide.

Kirk chimed in first breaking the silence “he’ll kill you, you know that”.  Spock added “Your survival is unlikely”. Without pause “Captain, we gain nothing by diplomacy, going over to that ship is a mistake.”  “I, too, suggest you rethink this strategy” agreed.

“I DEMAND you rethink this strategy!” you spat out not caring about rank. Everyone stared at you and Captain Pike.

His gaze met yours and smiled, ”I understand Lieutenant Pike.” Then he addressed the bridge “I need officers who have been trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat”.  Sulu's hand goes up “I have training, Sir!” Pike nodded “Then come with me.. Kirk, you too, you're not supposed to be here anyway” he smiled.

“McCoy, a word please” he nodded to Leonard to join him for a private conversation to the side. They spoke in whispers for a moment then returned to the group.

Pike turned towards Checkov, “Radio the engine room, have Chief Engineer Olsen meet us at Shuttle Bay Five” then proceeded to the turbolift with Kirk, Sulu, Spock, and McCoy.

“What are you doing, you can’t do this!” You argued, then shooting an angry look at Bones. You did not like secrets, none the less, secrets with your boyfriend in the middle of whatever the hell this was that was going on.    

Of course you followed right behind the men. You’ll be damned if you’re going to let your father fly over to a hostile Romulan ship. You didn’t care if he was the captain.

Pike barked off orders for Kirk and Sulu regarding disarming the drill and then advised Spock he was the captain now. You lost it. “What the.. NO! You cannot do this PLEASE!” You grabbed his arm this time. Pike nodded to McCoy “Doc, I think it’s time” and before you could turn around you felt a hypo hit your neck and you passed out. Fade to black.

___

When you awoke you were in your bed in your quarters. “God damn it Leonard!” you surmised he had knocked you out to avoid you fighting with your father about his stupid idea. Running out of your room you hurried to the turbolift. Once inside “Computer where is Captain Pike?” “Captain Pike is no longer aboard the Enterprise, however, Captain Spock is on the bridge” the computer relayed. You felt your eyes well but the anger prevented you from shedding tears. Gritting through your teeth “And where is Dr. McCoy?” “Dr. McCoy is in turbo lift 4 on route to the bridge.” “Then the bridge it is” and the doors shut and began to move.

Reaching the bridge, the doors open. “Permission to enter Captain?” you asked. “Permission granted Lieutenant” Spock nodded. You stepped in and walked up to him demanding to know what has happened. He advised you Pike was taken by the Romulans, they had destroyed Vulcan and the Enterprise was on it’s way to the Laurentian system to rendezvous with the fleet. Just then the bridge doors open and McCoy walks in. You walked up to him as he started to raise his hands in defense you punched him in the face. “What the hell was that!” you yelled at him. Spock raised an eyebrow at you but did not speak. Leonard turning back towards you holding his jaw in his hands “I can explain darlin.” “Don’t you darlin me damn it.” He motioned for you to follow him out into the hallway.

“Please don’t be mad at me, I didn’t want to do it but I had captain’s orders” he rambled.

“Captain’s orders! My father’s orders? To knock me out?”

“Well, not exactly darlin.”

“Then what exactly did he say DARLIN” you spat back, crossing your arms.

“Before he left the bridge, when he pulled me aside, he told me that my future in Starfleet relied on the following request. Then he said that if I cared about you at all that I would make sure when the time came, I would stop you from interfering with his only choice to save the crew and ship” he told you as he looked down at the ground, not able to look you in the eyes.

Pointing your finger at him, eyes glaring “If anything happens to him Leonard McCoy I swear to god you will beg for Starfleet to save your sorry as for what I’ll do to you do you understand me!”

“Understood doll.”

“It’s Lieutenant Pike, Doctor!”

Right now he was wishing it was him on deck 6 that was crushed instead of Dr. Puri.

[hurt-spock]

Fic: Everything’s Not Lost 1/?

(Full Chapter One Version)

The first thing he was aware of was a slight acrid smell. And then the realisation that something was very wrong.

Spock's eyes opened quickly and he was aware of how dim the craft was. “Doctor?”

“Mm,” came a mumbled response. Spock unclipped his safety belt. The viewscreen had malfunctioned and instead of showing what was outside the craft, it was blank and black. There were some dim emergency power lights working but they weren't working well. Spock's Vulcan eyesight helped him see things more clearly. McCoy would not have that luxury. The craft had crashed and had ended up tilted on its left side. Spock clambered over to where McCoy was and roused the Doctor carefully.

“Doctor?”

Blue eyes met Spock's own and there was a moment's confusion before he recalled what had happened. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”

“I am. Yourself?”

“Maybe a little sore from the landing.” The huge bump across McCoy's brow bone said otherwise. “We crashed, right?”

“We crashed,” Spock confirmed. “The planet is habitable. We can leave the craft if you wish.”

“I suppose it's better than staying in here,” McCoy stated as he climbed out of his seat and followed Spock to the door. “At least I'll be able to see something.”  

Spock grabbed two of the survival kits and handed one to McCoy before attempting to open the door. When it didn't budge, he handed McCoy the other kit so his hands were free and he could dedicate all his strength to it. McCoy pulled out one of the flash-lights so he could see a little better and watched Spock strain so much he thought something might pop. But then he stopped straining and looked at the door. “It is not going to open,” Spock said.

“No shit,” McCoy replied. “So, we'll stay inside then.”

Spock nodded but did not look content.

“What's wrong?” McCoy asked. He knew Spock well enough by now to know that what Spock didn't say was just as important as what he did say.

“Life support will only last for approximately four hours.”

“Only four?”

“It may be slightly more or less. I can not be sure with all the equipment down.”

“So if we don't get out of here before then, we're dead?”

“Not exactly,” Spock replied.

“You've got a plan?” McCoy asked, hopefully.

The look on Spock's face made it clear he did not have a plan.  

“Aw, fucking shit!”

“There is a breach somewhere. We are taking in water and I estimate that it will take around two hours for the shuttle to be flooded.”

McCoy stared at Spock. “Are we on fire as well? Maybe some toxic fumes that'll kill us in twenty minutes?”

“Perhaps. But if they are, I can not detect them,” Spock dead-panned back.

“What can we do?”

“I can try and use the phaser to aide an escape, however, if we are completely submerged it will amount to making a larger hole. If we can not get out in time, we will die.”

“Can you tell if we're submerged?” McCoy asked.

Spock considered. “I could make a small hole at the top of the craft.”

“Yes, do that!” McCoy said.

Spock adjusted the phaser and took careful consideration of where to make the hole. It took a while for the beam to penetrate all the way through and when it did nothing but air came in.

“Well that's a relief,” McCoy said.

“Hm,” Spock said, distractedly. He continued with the phaser making the hole bigger when the beam vanished.

“Don't tell me it's run out of juice?”

Spock looked at McCoy and didn't say a word, handing the phaser to him. McCoy studied it, tried it himself before throwing the thing to the floor in frustration. “Goddammit, we're gonna die in here, aren't we?”

“We have more oxygen,” Spock said. “We just have to wait for rescue. The Captain will find us.” It didn't change the fact that they would still drown in the shuttle before they lacked oxygen.

Spock was using the most positivity his neutral tone could muster up. McCoy sighed and nodded in agreement. He sat back in one of the seats. Spock was taking stock of the situation, gathering data. He moved around the shuttle checking for anything they could use.

“Jim's not going to get to us in time,” McCoy stated.

Spock stopped what he was doing and looked to McCoy.

“We weren't due back onboard for six hours when we left the planet. I heard you tell Jim that.”

“True. However, Jim did say that if they completed their own tasks they would meet us. He is aware that the shuttle has limited speed. It would make sense for them to meet us, if they had the time.”

“If.”

“It is all we have to hope for, Doctor. A small hope, but hope nonetheless.”

“Hm,” was all the response he gave. “You don't need the light, do you?”

“No,” Spock replied.

McCoy switched it off and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the water rising.

~

McCoy hadn't been aware of how exhausted he had been until he woke. It took him a few moments to get some clarity and when he did, he wondered how much time they had left.

He had stretched his legs across to another seat so he was more comfortable and when he sat up, he was shocked at the water he plunged his legs in too. It was cold as well. “Spock?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you?” McCoy asked. He had raised his legs back out of the water but it was only a matter of time before the water reached the seat.

“I am here,” Spock replied. He sounded as though he were at the back of the shuttle. McCoy fumbled for the flash-light and flicked it on before seeking out Spock.

The Vulcan was sat on top of two empty storage crates he had moved closer to the hole.

“Are you okay?” McCoy asked.

“I am,” Spock replied.

“What are you doing over there?”

“Attempting to escape,” Spock informed him. “Stay there, Doctor,” Spock said when McCoy looked to be coming over. “It will be best to stay dry as long as you can.”

“So, how are we escaping?” McCoy asked.

“The phaser made a hole. I have found a piece of the shuttle that we may be able to use to increase the size of the hole.”

“Can't we use it to open the door?” McCoy asked.

“I did attempt it. But the door will not open. I believe we crashed into a rock in some sort of body of water. A lake or river, I assume. I believe escape through the door is impossible. Once this hole is wide enough I should be able to increase it using the piece of the shuttle as a lever.”

“Spock, that's insane,” McCoy protested.

“Insane or not, it is the only chance we have to escape from here.”

McCoy turned the flash-light to the hole. It was a little larger than before but not by much, it was barely the size of a fist. Spock had donned some gloves and he watched in awe as Spock pulled at the metal exterior and increased the size of the hole. Not by much, but he did increase it. Spock was making slow progress. He was gathering all his strength with a complete stillness between attempts, not wasting energy with anything else other than freeing them.

McCoy could only watch the painfully slow process, watch as Spock used all of his strength and energy to slowly increase the gap. He forced himself to ignore the fact that the metal was tearing into Spock's skin and that green drops of blood dripped down into the ever-rising water. He said and did nothing when the water reached the seat, despite how cold it was.

When the hole was finally large enough for the metal lever, McCoy felt a surge of hope. “You're doing great,” he encouraged, wishing he could do more. “Why don't you let me try while you rest?” McCoy offered.

“No offense intended Doctor, but I do not believe you would be able to assist. However, if you have anything that would assist energy levels, I will gladly accept,”

McCoy grabbed his kit and rummaged through it. He had a few items in the kit that would suit Spock's biology but an energy booster wasn't something he would think to bring. Vulcan's had bags of stamina However, he did have an adrenaline boost fit for humans and  he hoped it would benefit him. While he continued to ready himself, he threw an energy bar Spock's way. “Okay, we'll try this,” McCoy said.

“I'll come to you,” Spock said.

“No. You're already using your energy to try and get us out of here. You don't need to waste extra energy trying to stay warm as well.” McCoy said and he plunged himself into the water and waded over to Spock. It was just about knee height, although the angle of the shuttle meant it was deeper in some areas than others. McCoy gave Spock two hypos. “The second one is for the pain I know you're in. When we get out of here, I'm checking those hands.” Spock nodded. “I know pain relief is not usually something you like but I've been working on this for months to try and get you something that doesn't make you nauseous. I'm pretty certain I got it right and this isn't the ideal way to test it but there's no way there are any adverse side effects. At the very worst, it won't be a great painkiller.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Spock said.

McCoy turned and started to make his way back to his seat. He hoped that Spock would get the energy he needed to get them out of here before the water got a lot higher, but looking at the hole when he'd been close to Spock showed him how little progress Spock had really made. McCoy was doubtful that Spock would be able to create a big enough hole for them to get through, but he wouldn't stop supporting his friend in his plight, he only wished he could do more. His wandering mind made him lose track of the awkward footing the shuttle's angle created and he took a misstep and slipped, submerging himself in the water. The water wasn't that deep, but the shock of slipping made his gasp in a breath of water. He struggled to right himself, thinking that if he didn't do so quickly enough Spock would be in after him and he gasped in oxygen as he righted himself, coughing and spluttering as he did so.

“What a clumsy arsehole I am,” he said eventually after he'd caught his breath and clambered back into his chair. The exertion hadn't done him much good and he could see Spock shooting concerned glances his way. He really was fine, if not a little embarrassed.

Whether it was McCoy's slip or the effects the hypos and food had, but Spock worked diligently on widening the hole. It was close to big enough for them to squeeze through when the water had reached just above McCoy's waist as he stood in the water. It looked tight but it might be enough. McCoy had watched Spock's arms tremble with the effort to widen the gap further and if there was a chance he might be able to get out without putting more pressure on Spock, he would do his best.

“Let me try,” McCoy insisted.

“I should go first, to ensure it is safe outside,” Spock said.

“Yeah, but if I get stuck, I don't think I could push you through,” McCoy joked.

Spock looked at the hole he'd created. “Let me just try to widen it a little further. I doubt either of us can fit through it easily,” he said. Spock's fatigued muscles trembled when he picked up the lever, let alone trying to prise the metal further apart. It seemed he made a little more progress.

“Okay, that's enough,” McCoy encouraged. “I'm sure I can fit through that.”

They moved the empty storage boxes Spock had sat on beneath the hole and McCoy clambered up. He had to twist his body into a certain angle to get through. It was bad luck that McCoy's calf caught against the side of the metal and cut his leg open, blood spurting from the wound. “Shit!” he exclaimed as he hauled himself out. “Pass me my bag,” he asked Spock, reaching back down into the hole, vaguely aware of the slight spatter of blood decorating Spock's face. He pulled his trouser leg up and saw the deep cut. It wasn't a big wound and he quickly wiped it down and bandaged it. He quickly looked around himself for signs of danger and saw no one and looked back down at Spock. “I'm okay,” he assured him. Spock nodded and started to pass the emergency kits out. McCoy carefully put them to one side, making sure they wouldn't fall into the water surrounding the crashed shuttle.

Spock barely had the strength left in his arms to haul himself out. He adopted the same shape as McCoy to squeeze through the hole, but once his arms were out, he struggled to pull his remaining bodyweight out. McCoy had to grab and haul him out as best he could. It didn't help that they were both soaked through and it carried extra weight, let alone them being cold as well.

It took Spock a moment to recover once they were free from the shuttle and McCoy noticed Spock's hand rub his midsection. He may have caught it climbing out of the craft, it wouldn't be surprising the way he'd had to do it.

The sky was a ghastly yellow tinge looking sick and ill but the unmistakable storm clouds ahead were somehow worse.

“Over there,” Spock said, point to a slight clearing up ahead where the trees gave some slight shelter.

McCoy nodded and they both clambered over the shuttle and through the shallow water and onto dry land, heading into the trees and the shelter it gave.

They both sat in the shallow shelter breathing heavily. They were soaked, cold, and exhausted.

“Now we can wait for rescue,” McCoy said.

[thesoundofnat]

Different

Jim, Bones

Summary: Bones is discovering in what ways Jim is different after having died, and in what ways he’s still the same.

A/N: This is my first Star Trek fic on here, and I can only hope you’ll like it! Thank you to @heartsalotofstuff for reading it and assuring me I hadn’t just thrown together a bunch of bullshit.

Words: 2 013

Dying, albeit briefly, had changed Jim. Bones could tell. When it came to Jim, Bones could always tell.

It was a painful realization, he had to admit. It had been bad enough to see his best friend lie there, as if frozen, with no pulse to find despite how much Bones tried. It had been bad enough to believe he would live the rest of his life without him. It had all been bad enough. But to think they would come out of this unscathed was wistful thinking.

Jim was different. He wasn’t the only one, of course. They had all changed a little bit. Spock seemed more distant. Scotty more emotional. Uhura became softer. Sulu all but danced around the Captain. Chekov was more quiet than ever, as if unsure of what to say. And Bones? Well, let’s just say that he panicked as soon as the kid was out of his sight. Jim called him overprotective, but Bones didn’t care. He wouldn’t be able to lose him again.

Jim was the one to change the most. Bones shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was over that fact. He wasn’t as naive anymore, nor as cheerful. The latter saddened the doctor, who had gotten so used to his friend’s easy smiles. Jim aged way too quickly due to that experience. Due to the new blood in his system. It was horrifying to watch, once Bones realized what was going on. It was as if Jim was changing every day; morphing into a new version right before his very eyes.

It was safe to say Bones didn’t like it.

At all.

He started observing his Captain and friend, and while he knew Jim’s scowl and dismissing waves would be endless if he noticed, Bones couldn’t stop. He had to keep watching him or he was afraid the kid would change so much he would be unrecognizable.

And so Bones started desperately looking for signs of the old Jim. Any little trace of the enthusiastic guy he knew. Just the smallest of signs would be enough. The vaguest of aspects.

“Why aren’t you eating?” he asked one day as he entered Jim’s quarters. The man in question was sitting on the couch with a plate full of untouched fruit on the coffee table in front of him. Had he not been staring at it somewhat skeptically Bones would’ve guessed he’d forgotten about it completely.

“I don’t know,” Jim replied and caught his gaze. Well, at least he was being honest.

Bones plopped down beside him. “I would ask if it’s the wrong kind of fruit, but I know for a fact that not only are you crazy about all of that, but it’s also the only types you’re not allergic to.”

Jim barked out an almost sheepish laugh, and Bones mentally ticked it off as a sign. “Maybe I don’t believe they won’t kill me.”

“Oh, trust me. Whatever you’ve been through can’t alter allergies. Only nature can do that, and that wasn’t natural.”

“I guess.” Jim picked up an apple slice, but he only turned it around in his hand. “My apetite is different. It’s like…”

“Like?”

“Like going hungry isn’t as big of a fear of mine anymore.”

Bones tilted his head. There was more to that story, but he wasn’t going to pry. “Just take a few bites. Do I have to say please? Because I will if it’s enough to get some nutrition into your system.”

Jim’s smile wasn’t as bright as it used to, but it still made Bones feel calm whenever he saw it. “Nah, I’m not a sadist.” He took a bite out of his slice. “There. Happy?”

“Immensely so,” Bones replied dryly. To see the kid who used to devour whatever you put in front of him practically force himself to eat was alarming to say the least.

Jim chewed slowly, but he ate the whole slice, and even went for a second one before pushing the plate away from him. Bones decided not to nag and let it be, though if the kid kept it up he’d have to change strategies. Jim wasn’t going to self destruct on his watch, whether it was consciously or not.

***

Jim’s temper was worse than ever. While he could be impatient in his personal life, Jim was usually a very level headed man who was willing to listen to other people whose opinions he valued, and he was prepared to alter his own plans if he realized their ideas could contribute to a better result. Now he just seemed tired, glowering in ways that even scared Bones if someone tried to go against his orders. His patient was thinner, but not enough for Bones to be able to pull him aside and chastise him about his new way of acting since it didn’t endanger the ship or crew. Jim was as impeccable of a Captain as ever, but the atmosphere on the bridge had never been this bad, and Bones didn’t even spend that much time there.

Seeing as Jim had never been very bothered about showing Bones when he was unhappy outside of work, Bones would expect it to get ten times worse and was utterly surprised to realize the exact opposite was happening.

Rather than let his emotions run amok behind closed doors, Jim seemed to shut them off completely, his body going slack and his face becoming a blank canvas with no expression. It terrified Bones too much to keep quiet about it.

“If I told you you’re being an idiot, would you yell at me?”

Jim glanced up. At least he could still express confusion. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m just trying to see if you can get angry, s’all.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You used to be very good at snapping at me, but lately you just give me a tired look and move on with your life.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“Sure, if you spared the rest of the crew your angry looks.”

“I don’t look angry.”

“Oh yes, you do. I’m pretty sure Chekov is terrified of you now.”

Jim frowned. “Why would he be scared? I’d never yell for no reason.”

“I know that. They’re probably not very sure anymore.”

His words weren’t well received, but Jim didn’t stand up in rage to ask him to take it back or clarify. Instead he just looked exhausted. Jim was never one to give into exhaustion.

Jim rubbed his temples with a sigh. “I’m sure they know better than to think I’d hurt them or something.”

“You used to be so patient, but lately it’s like you don’t even want to listen to them.”

Something flickered over Jim’s face, and the next second his expression had changed, though Bones couldn’t entirely identify what it was he was feeling. “Do I really come off like that?”

“More often than not, yes.”

“Shit.”

They didn’t say anything more about it, but Jim sank back into his expressionless exhaustion and Bones never stopped worrying. He could only hope their talk would change things. It had to.

***

Jim slept less. Bones only knew that because he’d accidentally - or not so accidentally - fallen asleep on Jim’s couch, which resulted in him waking up to find Jim pacing around the dark room restlessly and scaring the crap out of Bones in the progress.

“Dammit, Jim!” he exclaimed only seconds after he’d opened his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Jim didn’t pause in his stride, but basically flew into the air instead. “Bones! Holy crap, I had forgotten you were here.”

Bones sat up, his eyes still trying to properly make out Jim’s features in the dark. “Light at 50 percent.”

The room lit up, and Bones’ eyes landed on Jim’s face instantly. He looked like death himself.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Jim said before Bones could ask. “Whenever I can’t sleep I walk around in an attempt to tire myself out. You’re usually not in this room.”

“Jim, if you’re having trouble sleeping I can always get you something for it.”

“Drugs, you mean?” Jim’s smile was joyless. “I’d rather not have to rely on substances.”

“Says the guy who almost drinks himself unconscious every other night.”

That was another discovery Bones had made, but seeing as both he and Jim had liked drinking for a long time he couldn’t exactly call him out on it. The difference was vague enough for Jim to be able to deny it.

Jim’s laugh matched his smile. “In my own defense, it’s not as frequent as that.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not abusing it-”

“I know, I know.” Bones sat up properly. “But you know how easy it can be to cross that line, right?”

Jim didn’t reply, but Bones hadn’t expected him to.

“Tell me about why you can’t sleep.”

“I just can’t. My mind is too active. My body can’t sit still.”

“How often does this happen?”

“Probably too often.”

“When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

“I honestly can’t remember.”

“Dammit, Jim,” Bones mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. “Stop keeping things from me.”

“And what, exactly, are you supposed to do about this other than give me pills?”

“I’m not just a doctor, you know. I have other methods of helping a friend.”

“It’s all right, Bones. I’m all right.”

“That’s the biggest lie you’ve told, kid,” Bones replied softly. “Come here.”

Jim hesitated for just a second before he walked over and dropped down onto the space beside him. Bones reached over to place a hand on his chest, choosing not to comment on how he tensed up under the touch.

“Take deep, steady breaths,” he said instead. “That way you will calm your body down enough to stop its restless fidgeting.”

Jim did as he was told, and with each breath Bones felt his hand rise where it was resting on his chest. He only removed it once Jim’s breathing felt naturally calm, and he took a hold of Jim’s wrist instead.

“Now, try to relax your body. Let your shoulders drop and get rid of all the tension you’ve built up.”

Jim obliged once more, and Bones made a mental note of how the kid still trusted him enough to know what he was doing, thank god.

“Good. Now close your eyes.”

Jim’s gaze flickered to him briefly before he followed his request, and for a moment Bones didn’t say anything but let him sit there in silence.

“Do you feel relaxed?”

“I do,” Jim mumbled back, his eyelids twitching.

“The body is easier to control than the mind. Whenever you can’t sleep you have to make sure to relax your body as much as possible and your mind won’t be far behind.”

Jim hummed sleepily now, cracking one eye open to look at him. “Thank you, Bones. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bones’ heart broke into a million pieces at his dejected tone. “Don’t think I’ll ever let you find that out.”

Jim let out a laugh and Bones made one more mental note. Beneath all those changes Jim was still a scared guy with big dreams. Life had just beaten him a little too much this time. Bones could only hope Jim would be able to fully recover.

***

Bones slept badly that night, but that was only because Jim’s elbow was digging into his gut in a rather painful way. Bones didn’t dare try to move away though out of fear of disturbing him. Jim was finally sleeping deeply enough to not even stir, and Bones wasn’t about to ruin that. The couch wasn’t necessarily the comfiest sleeping place either, but Jim must’ve been so exhausted that he barely noticed.

Bones smiled slightly to himself as he made one last mental note. Jim still snuggled closer to him in his sleep, and Bones was happy to discover that his friend still felt safe enough around him to do so. Bones vowed to always be Jim’s safe space for as long as he needed him to be.

[janeykath318]

Jim X Reader--Buying The Space Farm 1

ANGST ahoy!! @yourtropegirl

The last 48 hours had been an absolute nightmare–from the moment Jim came to tell you he’d been demoted for breaking the Prime Directive. You’d thought seeing that crushed look on his face was the hardest problem you’d face as his loyal crew person (and girlfriend) but things rapidly spiraled out of control, including the Enterprise, which was in a free fall from orbit, powerless to escape the earths gravity. You cursed Khan and Marcus to the fiery pits of hell as you struggled to remain upright while the ship lurched and bucked. Frantic with worry for Jim, who’d been beamed back to the ship with Scotty and an injured Carol Marcus, you’d been trying to get to Medbay when the Enterprise lost power.

Jim had been angry and withdrawn ever since Pike was killed in Khan’s attack and shut you down every time you tried to talk to him. Leonard hadn’t had any better luck.

“Give him time, Y/N. It hit him hard. He’s even snubbing Spock at this point. Damn that bastard Harrison, murdering scum.”

“I second that sentiment,” you sighed. “Tell me if he starts talking, please. I’ve got to report to Lieutenant Commander Hendorff for our mission briefing.”

That mission to capture Khan had led to Marcus threatening the ship, a terrifying space jump (that you’d have words with Jim about later), Jim held at phaser point by Khan as he demanded his crew, and now it appeared your imminent demise along with all of your Enterprise family.

Sadness filled you as you realized you wouldn’t get to say good-bye to Jim and you closed your eyes, waiting for the end.

Suddenly, the ship leveled out and stabilized as the thrusters came back and power returned.

“What happened?” You wondered.

“Scotty must have performed a miracle,” panted your friend, Brad. “The man’s a genius!”

“With a misaligned warp core?” You asked, worried for the chief engineer. “That would be some feat. I hope he didn’t do something crazy.”

Lights started to come back on and communications began to be resumed minutes later. Your comm soon beeped urgently and you picked it up, shaking a bit with relief, hoping it was Jim.

“Report to Engineering, Lieutenant Y/L/N,” came your superior’s voice. There’s been a warp core breach and the crew down there is stretched thin. They need a party for a retrieval, as his whole crew is working on getting the ship stabilized.“

“Yes, Sir.” You answered, and a cold chill entered your heart at having to find a dead body. Engineering had already taken many casualties from Marcus’s attacks and now this……

Upon arrival in Engineering, you saw a bustle of activity going on, but Lieutenant Commander Scott looked like he’d lost his last friend.

“Reporting for duty, sir,” you said nervously.

“Well, lieutenant, I’m afraid it’s a rather unpleasant duty that I need a hand with. The core’s been realigned, but it was done manually, which means the brave idiot went into the core.”

Horror filled you as you realized what he meant. The person who’d saved the ship was probably dead from Radiation poisoning by now, and that was no easy way to go.

“Put on these protective suits, please. The decontamination period is over, but better safe than sorry. He’s right inside the chamber door, don’t know how he made it that far.”

You nodded and you and Brad put on the bulky Radiation proof suits and followed Scotty’s directions to the small chamber.

You felt your heart stop as you took in the sight of your captain’s empty blue eyes staring at you, a look of fear and sadness frozen on his dead face. Jim was slumped against the chamber door as if he’d been trying to get out, but death got there first. You had to choke back a pained cry at the sight, after all, Nobody knew about the two of you except Bones.

Jim was dead: really, really, dead and the fun-loving, feisty, caring man you’d loved was gone.

As you fought to keep yourself in control, Brad gasped beside you.

“The captain’s dead? He went in there and fixed the core?”

“Aye,” Scotty nodded. “I would’ve done it myself, but the lad got the drop on me.”

He punched in a few numbers and stepped back. The door opened without a sound and you ran forward and caught Jim’s body in your arms as it slid over sideways. He still felt warm, but that was mostly the Radiation in him.

“How long ago?” You asked softly, voice quivering. Together you and Brad dragged Jim out of the room and Scotty shut the door again.

“Twenty minutes, perhaps? It’s been chaos around here, so it’s hard to tell,” Scotty answered heavily.

Heartbreak was flooding you in waves as you clutched Jim. He’d died to save his crew and gone out a hero like his dad and you didn’t even get to say good bye.

Hadn’t it been just three days ago when those limp arms had been firmly around you? The now blue lips warm and soft against yours?

You picked up his hand and observed burns and cuts marring the fair skin. It killed you to imagine the kind of pain he went through in his last minutes.

You swallowed a sob, hoping the medical team would be here soon. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep it together before the grief overwhelmed you.

“It’s just the sort of thing he’d do,” you blurted out. “Throw his own life away to save his ship. He truly cared about us.”

“Aye, he did,” nodded Scotty. “That’s what made him such a good captain.”

Two of Dr. McCoy’s aides arrived presently and took charge of the body.

It made you queasy inside, seeing your dead boyfriend being put in a body bag, but your legs refused to move you away for some reason. At least they’d closed his eyes so you couldn’t see the blank stare anymore.

You and Brad solemnly escorted the gurney to Medbay, met by Bones, who sighed when he saw the bag.

“Put it here. Is this the warp core breach?”

“Aye,” said Scotty. “I’m afraid it’s the Captain, Doctor.”

Leonard’s eyes slid shut in anguish as he placed a hand on the zipper of the body bag.

“Dammit, Jim!” He whispered, pulling the zipper down to reveal Jim’s face. The look of devastation on his face grew when he looked up and saw you.

“Oh, heck. Did you see it happen, Y/N?”

“No,” you managed, eyes burning with the effort to keep your tears at bay.

“We helped remove him from the chamber…after….”

The words “he died” didn’t make it out of your mouth. Bones looked askance at Scotty and looked like he wanted to chew him out, but you shook your head and mouthed “He didn’t know!”

You both looked back down at Jim’s still figure and you started to tremble, tears now falling down your cheeks.

“Baby, why?” You whispered, running a hand down his cold face. “Why did it have to be you?”

Of course, Jim would have felt the responsibility was his alone, being captain, but how you wished that wasn’t the case! Now, there would be no more teasing smiles, no more laughing play fights in the gym, no more stealth dates over candlelight, no more arguing passionately over ancient earth literature, no more Jim.

Leonard’s own eyes were wet as he gently steered you to a chair and the room went deathly quiet as you grieved together–until the soft coo of a tribble interrupted.