Fic: "Crossfire" (14/19)
Nov. 5th, 2010 05:50 pmTitle: "Crossfire, Part 14"
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Fourteen
It was almost 2300h by the time Jim stumbled back to his own dorm room. Normally, one drink wouldn’t be enough to slow him down, but he was exhausted. It had been a long fucking day.
He’d met Bones after their classes and had decided that a bittersweet celebration was in order. Celebration, of course, because Bones had kept his medical license and his appointment as staff at Starfleet Medical. Bittersweet because it wasn’t fucking fair to have had his research project pulled out from under him. He’d seemed pretty resigned, and overall, not as upset at he could have been. Jim got the feeling that he was angrier on Bones’ behalf than Bones was.
And also, there were other things still hanging over his head, but for one night, he swore he wasn’t going to think about them. Much.
He needed to get over his damned issues with shuttlecrafts. He was not aviophobic – he was just having a bit of trouble getting over a justifiably traumatizing experience. At least, that was the easiest way to think about it. Because if he was aviophobic, then how the hell was he going to pass his assistant instructor test? He need to do this for Bones.
And for Tambe.
And fuck it all, he needed to find out who the hell had caused the damned crash in the first place. Conversations and events had continued to churn in his head, over and over. The things Pike and Toland had said to him, telling him not to investigate, to forget about Terra Prime – who the hell was trying to cover up this shit? Pike had warned both him and Bones from investigating, and so far, he’d kept his nose out of it, but it bothered him. What was Pike trying to protect them from? Was someone in the Academy command structure possibly a spy for Terra Prime? Was it so dangerous that Pike needed to warn him away to protect him? Because Pike would never cover up for the people who had caused the crash. Jim was sure of that, if nothing else... because if that wasn’t true, then he was beyond fucked.
For now, he’d listen to Pike. For now, he could wait and see what the investigation team discovered. For now, as much as he was pissed at Toland, he suspected that she really did mean to help him, and that she wanted to find the truth in this investigation. He could trust that... for now.
But he couldn’t focus on that tonight. No, tonight had been for Bones, and it had been good to let some of his worries slip to the background, just for a few hours. And maybe he could even get a night of sleep without having half-formed dreams of shuttle crashes and chasing shadows and engines with holes in them.
So, after too much udon and sushi, and much less sake than Jim had wanted, they’d made their way back to campus, resigned to the fact that they’d both have to face Friday on much too little sleep. They’d parted ways at the campus gate, and Jim had made the walk back to his dorm alone.
Jim was ready to tiptoe into the room in the dark so as not to disturb his roommate, but to his surprise, the lights were on. Sven was awake, kneeling in front of his desk, and he seemed to be up to his elbows in a cleaning project. There were wires and capacitors strewn around him on the floor. In fact, judging by the way he startled, he wasn’t expecting to see anyone.
“Hey, Sven,” Jim said easily as he toed off his boots. “Why so jumpy?”
“I didn’t expect to see you back tonight,” he said curtly as he stuffed some wires and circuit chips into a box and slapped the lid down. “When you leave campus with that doctor friend of yours, you usually stay in his room for the night.”
“Well, we usually head out on Fridays or weekends, so it doesn’t matter if I crash on his couch. But he’s got clinic in the morning, and I’ve got class. We just went out for dinner. Celebrating.” He unzipped his jacket, holding back his smirk at Sven’s mediocre social skills. “Sometimes going out is healthy, you know. You should try it – going out.”
“Perhaps. Yes.” He stood, picking up the box, then he wrinkled his nose. “But I’m quite busy. Not all of us can maintain our academic standings while appearing so careless. It seems to be a talent of yours.”
“Hey, hey!” Jim held up his hands innocently. “I work hard to maintain the appearance of careless talent.”
Sven only gave him a sharp look before turning and placing the box on his bed. “Some of us have high aspirations, and trying to look sloppy is not conducive to reaching that goal.”
Not conducive to... who talks like that? Sven had the social skills of class-four computer. Jim shook his head in amusement, wondering what the guy would be like if he ever got drunk. “Don’t worry about me – I know what I’m doing. And based on the fact that you spend every spare hour in the engineering labs, I’m sure you’ll do just fine with your professional appearance. But you should still get out once in a while.” He went over to his closet and pulled it open, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a drawer. “And what are you doing up this late? Usually, you’re in the lab or asleep by now. Doing a bit of cleaning?”
“Yes,” he said tersely. “We’re changing our project, so I’m clearing out some old equipment from here to make space for the new supplies.”
“Fair enough.” Jim threw his socks and trousers into the laundry refresher and pulled on his sweatpants. “But will I be able to turn off the lights soon? I’ve got an early-morning flight sim slot, and I’ve got to be awake at 0500.”
Sven was throwing some more equipment into another box. Power packs, sensors, and miniature field generators, from what Jim could tell. The usual engineer modeling junk. “I’m bringing this back to the lab now, to the storage locker. I’ll be quiet when I come back in.” He stacked the smaller box on top of the one he’d placed on his bed.
Jim frowned. “Need a hand with those?” He tugged the clean t-shirt over his head and took a step towards the boxes. “That looks kinda heavy.”
Sven turned his body between Jim and the boxes and lifted them off the bed with a grunt, skinny arms straining with the weight. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Okay, I get it. It’s a man thing.” Jim winked and took a step back. “See you around.”
“Later.” With another grunt, he made his way out the door.
“Weird guy,” Jim said to the empty room as he pulled his bedsheets back and climbed in. But at least he’s clean. Does his laundry, doesn’t leave food lying around, and doesn’t bring girls back to the room... not that they’d have him, the way he never socializes. “Lights.” Of course, there are rumors about what the engineering cadets do on leave...
Chuckling to himself, Jim pulled the blanket up over his shoulder as he rolled onto his side. He needed to get some sleep. It was going to be an early morning.
*********
Jim yawned as he tucked his PADD into his bag. His Friday afternoon lecture – Interspecies Ethics – was as dry as ever. The subject matter was interesting, but it was being taught by a Vulcan professor, and Jim was certain that his personal mission was to bore the class to death from sheer lack of emotion. So between the lack of sleep and the lack of excitement, Jim had been surprised there wasn’t drool on his arm when he pried his head off his hand at the end of class.
But the week was over. The exhausting, miserable, gut-wrenching week was over. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad, but had definitely been exhausting. Unlike most Fridays, when he was looking forward to some social time, all Jim really wanted was to go back to his room, have a drink, and call it an early night.
Bones had been right – he’d spent far too much time in the flight simulator in the past week. It was almost compulsive. Sure, it made him miserable, but he had to get over this. He needed to take the assistant instructor exam. And he needed to be a real part of his flight squad again.
My flight squad. He actually felt guilty. He’d meant to spend time with them at some point, but he couldn’t. Sure, they were all upset about Tambe, but nobody else was afraid to get back in the shuttle. He was holding the team back. They were already down to five, but without him, how could they even pretend to be a proper squad?
What would happen to Nova Squadron? What would happen to the promises they’d made each to other? The thought hit Jim bitterly. Sure, plenty of squads promised themselves that they’d be something amazing together – team for life and all that. It’s just that Jim was sure Nova Squadron really meant it. They’d already figured out their course schedules to take Advanced Flight Maneuvers next semester as a group, when they’d move to single pilot crafts. Sure, they all had to qualify for it, but they’d never doubted that they’d be able to do it. It would be incredible. They’d be incredible.
And now, they weren’t even a full squad, much less a squad for the history books.
Even worse, Jim could barely bring himself to face them.
The board of inquiry on Tuesday was still gnawing at the back of his mind. The insinuation by Admiral Ndungu that he might have caused the crash... it had horrified him at first, but now, it seeped through his thoughts like a nauseating fog. He refused to believe it, but he couldn’t pretend it had never been said.
It was okay, Jim told himself as he made his way down the stairs from the upper lecture hall seats and into the main atrium. As soon as the investigation team found their answers, this would all be laid to rest. He could put it behind him, finally, and get his mind back on the task of living the life that had almost been lost, and trying to live it fully enough for Tambe, too.
The afternoon was already darkening with clouds as he left Cochrane Hall, and he hunched his shoulders against the wind. The air smelled like rain, and if he got back to his dorm quickly, maybe he wouldn’t get soaked. That was the last thing he needed on a day like today. As tired as he was, even with all the marvels of modern medicine, he was sure he’d still come down with a cold if he got caught out in the rain on a day like today.
He grinned half-heartedly. Bones would surely give him hell for that.
He was halfway across the main quad when his comm chimed. Bones, maybe, angling to invite him over for the drinks they hadn’t had the night before. Smiling tiredly, Jim pulled his comm from his bag. “Kirk here.”
“Kirk, this is Captain Pike.”
Jim jolted to a stop. “Captain? What’s going on?” There was something distinctly uncomfortable about Pike’s tone of voice.
“I’d like you to meet me in my office.”
“Am... am I... what’s going on, sir?
“I’ll explain in person. Please report promptly.”
Jim stammered for a moment before swallowing his questions and objections and simply said, “Okay, sir.”
“Good. Pike out.”
Jim closed the comm and slipped it back into his bag. His lethargy from a moment ago was gone, replaced by a cold sensation in his gut that matched the wind cutting through his clothes. Pike had sounded angry, so this couldn’t be good. Jim had no idea what was going on, but as he looked through the thin fog at Archer Hall on the far end of the quad, he knew there was no avoiding this.
Tucking his bag tight under his arm, he took off at a jog across campus, feeling the first cold drops of rain beginning to pelt against his face.
*********
Leonard’s breath was quick in his chest as he hurried across the floor of the hangar. Really, he wanted to be collapsing onto his couch in his room right about now, to sit back, put his feet up, and thank whatever gods were listening that the week was over. But no. He needed to find Jim.
It was Pike’s call that had sent him scrambling from the clinic to the shuttle hangar on the other end of campus through the pouring rain. Whereas the infirmary was on the main campus of the Presidio, the shuttle hangar was on Crissy Field, and Leonard hadn’t had the patience to wait for a campus transport. At least it was downhill. And at least he’d checked the weather grid for the day and had taken his parka.
Somehow, he doubted Jim had remembered his.
At this hour on a Friday, the hangar was all but deserted. A few maintenance engineers and Academy staff members cast curious looks at him as he hurried towards the back corner of the hangar where the flight simulator facility was located, but everyone left him alone. It was just fine with him. The only person he needed to deal with that night was Jim.
Apparently, Pike had given Jim some rough news that afternoon, and he hadn’t taken it so well. Not that Leonard could blame him.
The investigation had been closed.
They’d given no reason why they closed the investigation. No word on who had sabotaged the shuttle in the first place. No mention of whether they’d even found the saboteur at all. Just... nothing. Closed. That was the only information Pike had gotten. Therefore, that was all he could tell Jim, and based on the reaction, it hadn’t gone over so well.
And as soon as Pike had given Jim the news, the kid had taken off. Pike had tracked him via his communicator to the flight sim facility, and suggested that maybe Leonard would have better luck talking him down. Pike was probably right about that... but it didn’t mean it was going to be easy.
Leonard swiped his ID badge over the security checkpoint at the door to the flight sim facility. A quick look around made it obvious where Jim was. Wet footprints led the way to the only simulator that was active.
“Dammit, Jim,” Leonard sighed aloud. The kid had definitely not brought a parka, and was probably soaked to the skin. And it was freezing outside.
Not wanting to just barge in, Leonard wanted to get some idea of what he was facing before he opened the door. Feeling only marginally guilty, he pulled up the access screen on the exterior simulator controls and entered his medical access code. Instantly, the basic biosign readouts on the occupant began to scroll across the screen, along with a video feed of the interior of the simulator.
Jim was sitting in the pilot’s seat, hair wet, clothes drenched. His face was wrought with emotion, but his jaw was clenched, holding it in check. If anything, the tightly reined-in fury seemed to be keeping his other emotions at bay. His heart rate was too fast, respiration shallow, and body temperature... Damned kid’s running a fever already. That was all the biosensors showed on these things, but it was enough. Mostly, it was Jim’s eyes that said it all: wild and reckless above the tight clench of his jaw, with lines of stress across the rest of his features.
Jim was minutes away from blowing a fuse or breaking down.
With a regretful sigh, Leonard tapped the comm unit. “Jim. It’s time to come out of there.”
Inside the simulation, Jim jerked in his seat as if he’d been shocked. “Wha... wh – Bones? What the hell are you – wait... no.”
“Yes, Jim. You’ve had enough.”
Jim’s eyes searched around the cabin of the simulator, quickly finding the vid lens above the viewscreen. He glared up at it furiously. “You have no idea what enough is, Bones. You’re damned right I’ve had enough, but the world doesn’t give a shit about that, so neither do I.”
Leonard took a steady breath. “Maybe I give a shit, Jim.”
“If you did, you’d let me finish this sim!” he snarled, eyes returning to the control panel and viewscreen. “I’ve got to do this, Bones. I need to pass my exam. My flight squad needs me, now more than ever. If those bastards aren’t even going to finish the investigation, then Nova Squadron needs to be as strong as we can be, and we can’t keep the team together if I can’t handle flying!”
So that’s what some of this is about. “Jim, believe me, I understand some of what you’re going through, and I can help you.”
“Help me, Bones?” He glanced back up at the lens. “You’ve already helped me. You saved my sorry ass after you told me not to come crying to you when I crashed the fucking shuttle.”
Leonard’s stomach clenched. “Jim, you know I didn’t mean that.”
“You said it. And you were right – I should have been better. I should have prevented the crash. I mean, what if... if I...” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head sharply and turned his attention back to the flight sim.
“Jim, if you don’t come out of there on your own, I’ll need to override it.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” Leonard said as calmly as possible. “Come out of there.”
“Like hell I will.”
Shaking his head sadly, Leonard tabbed in the medical override code. A split second later, all the lights on the control board in the simulator cabin went dead, and the overhead light came up to normal levels. Jim’s hands hesitated over the controls as he looked around himself frantically then furiously, then he slammed his hands down on the control panel.
“Bones! What the fuck are you doing?” He glared up at the vid lens. “Put it back.”
“I can’t do that, Jim.” As a doctor, he couldn’t let Jim continue. As a friend, he simply wouldn’t. With a sigh, he activated the hatch to the sim pod, and a moment later, a furious Jim Kirk was chest-to-chest with him, snarling angrily.
“Why the hell did you do that? Huh?” From this distance, it was impossible to ignore the bright red splotches of fever on Jim’s cheeks, the unfocused look in his eyes. He wasn’t all there. Leonard had seen Jim angry a few times, sure, but never angry at him, not like this. “After a fucking bullshit day like today, all I needed was to focus on something, and you had to go and rip that from me.”
“I’m about to rip you a new one if you don’t pull your head out of your ass.” Knowing he was walking a volatile line, he put his hands on Jim’s upper arms, gripping just firmly enough to make it clear that he wanted Jim’s undivided attention. He inwardly cringed at how soaking wet Jim’s uniform was. “Punishing yourself like this isn’t going to help, Jim!”
Just as quickly, Jim yanked his arms out of Leonard’s grasp, stumbling a couple of steps back, breathing heavily. “Punishing my –” He cut himself off, shaking his head with a crazed sort of laugh. “Maybe I deserve the punishment.”
Leonard frowned as he watched a haunted look creep into Jim’s eyes. “What? How the hell do you deserve a punishment? Good God, Jim, you’ve been through hell in the past few weeks. And you’re making yourself sick. You’re soaked to the skin, you’re running a fever, and –”
"But I crashed the shuttle, Bones." There was something broken and wrecked in his eyes, behind the crazed front. "I did exactly what you warned me not to do. I did something reckless, and I crashed the shuttle. And I killed Tambe."
"What?" Leonard balked, then took a hesitant step closer to Jim. "How can you think that? You've been shouting about sabotage since the moment you regained consciousness over a month ago. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about that.”
“No!” Jim snapped, just a bit too quickly, then with a choked sound, “No.” His eyes narrowed. “I know someone screwed with the shuttle engine. But they’ll never prove that now, will they? Never confirm it, never let us know. They’ve closed the investigation and sealed the files. I can’t crack any of them! There’s no information available, no way for me to start my own investigation, and all I’m left with is knowing that the shuttle went down and I was flying it and... fuck!”
Jim turned and slammed his hand angrily against the wall of the simulator. And again, harder. With a growl, he hauled back his hand and went to smash a closed fist into the panel, but with a desperate lunge, Leonard grabbed his fist and spun him around. “Dammit, Jim get a grip on yourself!”
“Fuck... Bones, let go!” He gave a half-hearted tug, but Leonard held fast, and Jim seemed to sense that a physical scuffle wasn’t what he needed. Instead, he glared at Leonard, eyes narrowed. “And besides, why the hell should I ‘get a grip’ of myself, huh? I’ve already managed to fuck it up pretty good. I haven’t had a grip on myself in a good long while, and you know it.”
“You’ve been recovering, Jim,” Leonard said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yes, you’re a bit shaken, but you can get help. After the shit you’ve been through, you’ve got every reason to –”
“No fucking way! I’m not going to see a damned counselor. I’m not going to let myself be that weak again, Bones, with everyone else doing things to me and telling me what to do and controlling everything. I can’t! I’ve had enough of that, enough of being someone… something that needs to be fixed. I’m going to fix myself this time.”
“Oh, so this is how you’re going to do it, huh?” Leonard actually let go of him and took a step back, appraising. “You’re going to work yourself into a frenzy, punching walls and skipping sleep, scaring yourself with too many flight sims, blaming yourself for something that’s not your fault, and making yourself sick. Great plan, kid. And what will be left when you’re done? Do I get to pick up the pieces when you go too far?”
For a split second, Jim almost looked stunned enough to stop, but then his eyes narrowed. “This has nothing to do with you, Bones.”
“The hell it doesn’t,” Leonard growled low in his throat. “Next-of-kin, Jim? You didn’t want to talk to your mother, but you put me on your living will? You bet your damned rawhide this has to do with me. And whether you want me to or not, I will be here to pick up the pieces. But maybe, kid, just maybe, you’ll take a step back before it goes that far, and you’ll realize that this isn’t just about you either.”
Jim stared at him incredulously for a moment, and then suddenly started to laugh. Leonard hadn’t heard a sound like that since his rotations in a psych ward while getting his Ph.D. It was blood-curdling. “It’s always about me, Bones! Don’t you get it? It’s always me.” He took a few dizzy steps back, and started pacing. “Sure, the universe kicks everyone in the ass a few times, but with me, it never fucking stops! Every time I think I’ve caught a break, every time I think things might get better, something else sends it all crashing down. Even if I come out of it in one piece, it rips just a little bit more, cuts a little bit deeper. And it never stops.”
He stopped and leaned one arm against the wall of the simulator, pressing his forehead against the back of his hand. “I’m fucking scared, Bones.” The anger was gone from his voice, suddenly replaced by something rougher, more primal. “A couple of months ago, I thought I was fearless. Got this crazy notion that I had some of my father in me. Had what it took to be a hero, or some stupid shit like that. Now, I’ve being reduced to a pathetic coward by a flight simulator, and I have no idea why. My teammate is dead, and I can’t even prove to myself, or anyone else, that it wasn’t actually my fault. The people I’m supposed to trust to find who did it, and catch him… they’ve quit! Pike’s got no answers, I don’t know what’s going to happen to my flight squad, and it’s so fucked up I don’t even know where to begin!” He finished with a pained snarl, slamming his forearms against the wall, then bowing his head for a moment before looked sideways at Leonard. “What am I supposed to do, Bones?”
For a long moment, Leonard stared at Jim. He wanted to paint a bright picture of Jim’s myriad of talents and loyal friends. Wanted to tell the kid that he just needed to take a deep breath, give himself time to recover, and keep doing the amazing work he’d done since the day Leonard had met him, and that everything would work itself out. And would love to tell him to just step away from the flight simulator, come have a drink, and laugh about it in the morning. But he couldn’t.
No simple, sugar-coated answer was going to fix this. This wasn’t the sort of wound you could dress in a bandage and leave to heal. Instead, cautiously, Leonard stepped towards Jim and slowly wrapped one hand around Jim’s wrist, guiding him away from the wall. Oddly, Jim didn’t resist as strongly as Leonard had expected. “Jim… you need to give yourself a break here. You’ve worn yourself ragged. I’m gonna guess you’ve had less than twenty hours of sleep all week. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Maybe,” Jim said warily, easing his wrist out of Leonard’s grasp.
Leonard let him, but kept held his gaze firmly. “There’s no excuse for them dropping the investigation. I don’t have a damned clue why, and based on what Pike told me –”
“Pike!” Jim’s eyes went wide. “He sent you here, didn’t he?”
“He did,” Leonard said flatly. “Or more to the point, he told me what he told you. I figured you wouldn’t take it well, so I had him tell me where you went.”
“Oh.”
“So… based on what Pike told me, he doesn’t know why they dropped the investigation either. Even though he’s not part of it anymore, he’s got someone feeding him information.”
“Commander Toland,” Jim said quietly.
Leonard felt his eyebrow jump up. “That… makes sense,” he said vaguely, remembering seeing her outside Jim’s hospital room. “And from what I could tell, even his informant doesn’t seem to know why the investigation was dropped. It happened really suddenly. But… there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“But –”
“No, kid… don’t. Sometimes, that’s just the way it is, and the hardest part is that you have to accept it. There’s nothing you can do about the investigation. But –” He took a step closer to Jim. “You can keep your squad together –”
“Not if I’m too scared to fly,” Jim grumbled.
“– and get your fears under control –”
“That’s rich coming from Mr. Aviophobia himself.”
“Dammit, Jim – be quiet and listen!” He shook his head to himself, trying to reset his thoughts. “Control the things you can. The investigation isn’t one of those things. The crash itself wasn’t one of those things. Your reaction to it, however, is.” He stood a bit straighter, giving Jim a level gaze. “I’m going to help you.”
Jim blinked twice, and shook his head incredulously. “Wait, you’re going to help me with this… this flying thing? Bones, I was supposed to help you.”
Leonard nodded, putting the pieces together in his mind as he spoke. “Maybe you still can. Jim, I’m a doctor. Helping people… it’s my comfort zone. Maybe if I can help you with your flying thing, as you put it, I might be able to help myself in the process.”
“Help each other?” Jim asked, a bit less defensive this time.
“Something like that, kid.” He gave a thoughtful half-grin. “Besides, I need a new research project. How does ‘Aviophobia: Treatment Approaches for the Unorthodox Patient’ sound?”
“Like you want to turn me into a lab rat,” Jim said flatly, folding his arms across his chest.
“I’d be studying myself, too.” He grinned a bit wider. “I have to do my research project in one of my medical specialties. I’m a trauma surgeon, Jim, but I’ve got a Ph.D., too. Psychology.”
“Maybe more of a guinea pig.”
“I could give a conference on aviophobia for a final project,” Leonard said, feeling the sudden surge of excitement at the prospect of a new academic challenge. “Come on, Jim. You want to get back to your old self, I want to pass the goddamned flight requirement, and I need a project. What do you say?”
Jim stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Squeak, squeak.”
Leonard snorted. “I’ll take that as a yes. But before we do anything else… dammit, Jim, we need to get you out of those clothes.” He grabbed Jim by the arm, pulling him close and pressing a hand against Jim’s forehead as he started steering him towards the door. “I don’t need a damned scanner to know you’re running a fever. Come on, I’m taking you back to my room and giving you an anti-pyretic – and I don’t want to hear one complaint out of you about the hypospray. You’re the one who had to go out and get yourself soaked to the skin. I keep telling you to keep your parka in your bag, but the day you listen to me –”
“Bones?” Jim interrupted gently.
“What, kid?”
“Don’t ever change.”
*********
The weekend crept by under a thick blanket of fog and rain. Subdued, quiet, and just what he needed, Jim realized.
Jim woke up on Bones’ couch Saturday morning to the persistent splatter of heavy rain against the window and an empty dorm room. There was a note in the kitchenette by the coffee maker, letting him know that Bones had a short clinic shift that morning. So Jim wasted the morning curled up on Bones’ couch with his PADD, studying, only leaving once to grab to-go lunches from the mess hall. Bones came back from clinic and they both settled into an amiable silence, suffused only by ongoing tapping of rain on the window. Bones thanked him for the lunch and ate quietly. Jim had no major inclination to leave; the weather was too miserable to bother going into the city, and Bones seemed quite satisfied with staying put.
Jim didn’t ask Bones about going down to the flight simulators. Didn’t want to push his luck. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have work to do. He had a report due for his Ethics class, and he’d learned quickly that Vulcans liked their reports wordy. It was more than enough to keep him occupied. Besides, based on the way Bones was completely focused on his PADD, despite his lazy sprawl across his bed, the guy was up to something.
The pleasant silence continued until the sun went down. Finally, Bones looked out the window, then over at the chrono on the wall. He stood, stretched, and said, “Okay, Jim. Put your boots on. And grab your damned parka this time.”
The sudden announcement surprised Jim, but he was on his feet faster than even he’d expected from himself. “Yes, sir!”
A grumble and a raised eyebrow. “Cut that out, kid.”
“Sure thing, Bonesy.”
He grabbed a small case and tucked it into his ever-present messenger bag, scowling fiercely. “You know, there are ways to temporarily paralyze a human’s vocal cords.”
Jim snapped his mouth shut, still grinning, and followed Bones out the door.
It was cold and miserable outside, but Jim had to admit - the parka was quite effective. As usual, Bones was right. Of course, Bones’ cure for his chill-induced fever the previous night hadn’t been quite as bad as he’d promised. No hypospray - just a warm shower and a mug of hot chocolate. And damn, Bones could make good hot chocolate. Maybe, Jim pondered, he could finagle another round tonight without getting soaked to the skin first. One stupidity-induced fever had earned him a hot chocolate; the second probably would get him an unceremonious hypospray to the neck.
Jim was only slightly surprised to find that Bones was indeed leading him to the shuttlecraft hangar. When they arrived at the flight sim facility, there were only a couple of other simulators active. Usually, Saturdays were busy with cadets trying to hone their skills, but Jim guessed that nobody wanted to leave the warm comfort of the dorms on a day like today.
He shed the parka and looked over at Bones, who was already entering some data into the flight simulator he’d reserved. “So... what’s the plan?”
“The plan,” he began softly, “is to go for a flight.” He finished tapping something into the control panel and the hatch slid open.
Jim frowned. “That’s it? I mean... isn’t that what you told me I’ve overdone lately? Bones?”
Bones didn’t reply, but made a sweeping gesture, indicating for Jim to get his ass into the flight simulator. A moment later, Jim was ensconced in the pilot’s seat, and Bones was shuffling in behind him. However, instead of sitting directly in the copilot’s seat, Bones dropped his bag on the seat and pulled out the small case he’d grabbed before leaving the dorm room.
“Hey? What’s that?” Jim craned his neck to see, but Bones just glared at him.
“What have I been telling you about patience, kid? Relax.” He opened the case and pulled out an small, odd-looking device. “I grabbed these from the clinic this morning.” He reached over towards Jim’s neck, holding the thing pinched between his fingers.
Instinctively, Jim ducked away. “Whoa, whoa! What’s that?”
Bones sat back, shrugged, and stuck the device against his own neck. “It’s just a sensor, you big baby. Take a look.” He held out his PADD and tapped in a few commands. A second later, a readout which was obviously a very basic set of vital signs popped up on the screen. “Have you ever heard of biofeedback?”
Jim frowned, looking between the small sensor on Bones’ neck and the readout on the PADD. “Sounds familiar. What is it?”
“Really, really old technique that people used to use to help confront the physical reactions they have due to phobias, as well as tons of other medical issues. And it worked, without drugs or other invasive therapies, so people still use the technique today. Of course, we’ve streamlined it, simplified and improved it over the years.” He grinned and rested the PADD on the control board. “The idea is that if you can see what the stress is doing to your body, you can learn to control your reaction physically. It’s basically a way to learn to control your own body.” He gave Jim a meaningful look. “You actually gave me the idea for it yourself.”
“Oh?” Jim asked warily. “How’s that?”
“Because you’re a control freak. And don’t give me that look - it’s usually works out in your favor.” He tapped the sensor on his neck. “This gives you a window into what your own body is doing... how it’s reacting to something... so you can control it yourself.”
“Control it myself?” Jim echoed, curious now. “So this doesn’t do anything to you? It just... it’s just a sensor?”
“No, kid, it doesn’t do anything to you. And look...this one’s extremely simple. It only measures heart rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure. There are more complex sensors available, of course, but for today, this is plenty.” Bones pulled it off his own neck and held it out.
Jim looked at the sensor skeptically. “What do I do?”
“Mostly, you try to stay calm,” Bones said easily. “I’ll coach you as we go, but basically, you’d just keep an eye on your own heart rate and breathing. If either of them gets too fast, the program alerts you. You focus on your own body and slow it down again. For today, we’ll keep it really simple, just to give you a feel for it. As you progress with time, I’ll teach you techniques for controlling your breathing and your own heart rate so that if you start to panic, you can bring it back down again. We’ll work with some cognitive techniques, too. You control everything, Jim... including yourself. That’s the whole point.”
For a long moment, Jim surveyed Bones critically. “So... if you know about all this stuff, and you’re a doctor... why did you almost throw up on me the day I first met you?”
Bones rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Because I’d never expected to join Starfleet, or have any other reason for my feet to leave the ground, so I figured it didn’t matter if I was less than fond of these flying tin cans. Plus...” He pressed his lips together in chagrin. “I’m stubborn.”
Jim chuckled. “Makes two of us.”
Bones nodded and pulled the sensor off his own neck, holding it out towards Jim. “So... you up for it?”
Jim stuck his lower lip out and shrugged. “Sure.” He tilted his head to the side, but couldn’t quite suppress the shiver and flinch as he felt the sensor latch on to his skin. “So now, what do we do?”
“Well,” Bones said easily, activating the shuttlecraft controls, “You’re going to pay attention to your own heart rate and breathing as we go through this simulation, and try to control both of them. I’m going to make observations. And we -” He started the preliminary engine diagnostic cycle. “- are going for a ride.”
Jim actually found himself laughing as he began the pre-flight checks and powering up the engines.
The flight simulation Bones had programmed actually surprised Jim. They didn’t even break the lower atmosphere. It was a short maneuvering flight over low, familiar terrain. Sure, Jim felt the odd, uncontrollable fear threatening him a few times, but as his own heart and breathing sped up, the PADD beeped at him, and he focused so carefully on controlling the physical response that the rest seemed to fall into place.
“That was pretty good, Bones,” Jim said as he engaged the landing cycle. “Maybe you’ve got a pretty good idea here with this biofeedback thing.”
“Of course it’s a good idea. That’s why they gave me a medical license,” he said confidently.
“Careful, Bones – if you get too cocky, you’re gonna start sounding like me.”
“Oh God, I hope not.”
“Could be worse,” Jim teased. He was quiet as he made the final maneuvers and landed the shuttle on the designated spot on the simulated landing pad, then breathed a satisfied sigh. “That was a really short sim,” he said as he unstrapped his harness. “Maybe we could go again. Try a higher maneuver? Orbit?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jim. The whole idea behind this is only pushing your comfort zone in tiny increments, and never letting yourself get beyond the point where you’re comfortable controlling your reactions. Otherwise, it doesn’t work.” He reached over and detached the sensor from Jim’s neck. “You did really well today, kid.”
“Thanks. Good enough for your project?”
Bones gave him a look, then tucked the sensor back into his case. “Good enough for you is good enough for me. How do you feel?”
Jim smiled. “Fine, Bones.” And he meant it. “But you know... just in case I’m still suffering at some level, I might need another dose of that hot chocolate of yours. You could cure a rainy day with that stuff.”
Bones smiled and looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe I can, Jim. Maybe I can.”
Bones couldn’t quite cure a rainy day, but Jim concluded that he was pretty damned good at relieving the symptoms. And so Saturday faded into Sunday - another relaxed day of hiding from the rainstorm, broken only by meals and one flight sim.
This time, they went a bit higher. Not quite orbital, but upper atmosphere. And Jim didn’t feel the panic taking hold of him this time, either. Maybe the biofeedback worked. Maybe it was because he wasn’t pushing himself to extremes or wearing himself out with hours in the simulator. Maybe because he was working with Bones, and part of his attention was actually spent on making sure Bones was okay with the sim, too. Maybe it was because he finally found himself able to talk to someone about what he was going through – someone who understood. Bones wasn’t going to judge him. The guy already knew him, and that was enough.
They arrived back at Bones’ dorm just as the last vestiges of both the day and the storm faded into a rainless evening. It didn’t take much begging to cajole another round of hot chocolate, and they enjoyed the steaming beverages while watching the campus lights come on. It was almost like the way they’d been before the crash. The banter was comfortable and welcomed. They talked about classes, asshole professors, annoying classmates, possible postings after graduation... and Bones even admitted what he’d been planning for his career path. Yeah, kid... I’ll try to get assigned to the same ship as you. It had almost made Jim forget about his fears.
The one thing they never mentioned was the investigation.
By 2200 hours, Jim knew it was time to stop hiding from the world in Bones’ room. Tomorrow morning, he’d have to dive back into classes. He’d probably get called to an Academic Advisor's meeting with Pike at some point, just to talk. He’d have hand-to-hand in the afternoon, so he’d get to see Romano’s ugly mug, as if he didn’t need any more reminders. But he also had his flight training in the morning, and this time, he felt ready to work with his team again.
He was just pulling on his boots when Bones tapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, Bones?”
Bones held out his fist, palm down, and Jim automatically offered his upturned hand. The small sensor device they’d used in the simulator for the biofeedback program fell into his open palm. “The frequency code is on the back,” Bones explained. “Just tap it into your PADD, and it’ll automatically activate the biofeedback program. Use it during your flight classes if you want to, kid, but promise that you’ll take it easy. Stick to the program. Focus on the biofeedback techniques. The more you get used to paying attention to your own body, the better you’ll get at controlling your reactions.”
“Okay.”
“And if you do, could you record it for me?”
Jim looked at the small device in his hand and smiled. “I will,” he said sincerely as he tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks, Bones. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, Jim. Just don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t.” He grinned sheepishly. “I think I’ve learned my lesson on that.”
Bones laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No, Jim. You haven’t. You’re going to keep overdoing it for the rest of your life. And every so often, I’ll be able to rein you in just enough to keep you from doing something completely crazy.”
Jim frowned, feeling a surge of guilt. “Bones, I’m –”
“But that’s okay,” Bones interrupted, giving Jim a half-grin. “I think I’ve gotten used to shit like that from you. And… I guess I don’t mind it so much after all.”
Jim patted Bones’ hand twice before it dropped from his shoulder, then he turned and walked out of the room.
Outside of the dorm, the night sky was clear enough that some stars were visible even through the lights of the city. Jim smiled up at the view, then began walking quickly down the path towards his own dorm. He was going to need to get some solid rest if he was going to tackle everything he had planned over the next few days. Daily flight sims with Bones, reviews for the pre-holiday exams, and pulling his flight team back together.
It was going to be a busy week.
*********
(To Part Fifteen...)
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
It was almost 2300h by the time Jim stumbled back to his own dorm room. Normally, one drink wouldn’t be enough to slow him down, but he was exhausted. It had been a long fucking day.
He’d met Bones after their classes and had decided that a bittersweet celebration was in order. Celebration, of course, because Bones had kept his medical license and his appointment as staff at Starfleet Medical. Bittersweet because it wasn’t fucking fair to have had his research project pulled out from under him. He’d seemed pretty resigned, and overall, not as upset at he could have been. Jim got the feeling that he was angrier on Bones’ behalf than Bones was.
And also, there were other things still hanging over his head, but for one night, he swore he wasn’t going to think about them. Much.
He needed to get over his damned issues with shuttlecrafts. He was not aviophobic – he was just having a bit of trouble getting over a justifiably traumatizing experience. At least, that was the easiest way to think about it. Because if he was aviophobic, then how the hell was he going to pass his assistant instructor test? He need to do this for Bones.
And for Tambe.
And fuck it all, he needed to find out who the hell had caused the damned crash in the first place. Conversations and events had continued to churn in his head, over and over. The things Pike and Toland had said to him, telling him not to investigate, to forget about Terra Prime – who the hell was trying to cover up this shit? Pike had warned both him and Bones from investigating, and so far, he’d kept his nose out of it, but it bothered him. What was Pike trying to protect them from? Was someone in the Academy command structure possibly a spy for Terra Prime? Was it so dangerous that Pike needed to warn him away to protect him? Because Pike would never cover up for the people who had caused the crash. Jim was sure of that, if nothing else... because if that wasn’t true, then he was beyond fucked.
For now, he’d listen to Pike. For now, he could wait and see what the investigation team discovered. For now, as much as he was pissed at Toland, he suspected that she really did mean to help him, and that she wanted to find the truth in this investigation. He could trust that... for now.
But he couldn’t focus on that tonight. No, tonight had been for Bones, and it had been good to let some of his worries slip to the background, just for a few hours. And maybe he could even get a night of sleep without having half-formed dreams of shuttle crashes and chasing shadows and engines with holes in them.
So, after too much udon and sushi, and much less sake than Jim had wanted, they’d made their way back to campus, resigned to the fact that they’d both have to face Friday on much too little sleep. They’d parted ways at the campus gate, and Jim had made the walk back to his dorm alone.
Jim was ready to tiptoe into the room in the dark so as not to disturb his roommate, but to his surprise, the lights were on. Sven was awake, kneeling in front of his desk, and he seemed to be up to his elbows in a cleaning project. There were wires and capacitors strewn around him on the floor. In fact, judging by the way he startled, he wasn’t expecting to see anyone.
“Hey, Sven,” Jim said easily as he toed off his boots. “Why so jumpy?”
“I didn’t expect to see you back tonight,” he said curtly as he stuffed some wires and circuit chips into a box and slapped the lid down. “When you leave campus with that doctor friend of yours, you usually stay in his room for the night.”
“Well, we usually head out on Fridays or weekends, so it doesn’t matter if I crash on his couch. But he’s got clinic in the morning, and I’ve got class. We just went out for dinner. Celebrating.” He unzipped his jacket, holding back his smirk at Sven’s mediocre social skills. “Sometimes going out is healthy, you know. You should try it – going out.”
“Perhaps. Yes.” He stood, picking up the box, then he wrinkled his nose. “But I’m quite busy. Not all of us can maintain our academic standings while appearing so careless. It seems to be a talent of yours.”
“Hey, hey!” Jim held up his hands innocently. “I work hard to maintain the appearance of careless talent.”
Sven only gave him a sharp look before turning and placing the box on his bed. “Some of us have high aspirations, and trying to look sloppy is not conducive to reaching that goal.”
Not conducive to... who talks like that? Sven had the social skills of class-four computer. Jim shook his head in amusement, wondering what the guy would be like if he ever got drunk. “Don’t worry about me – I know what I’m doing. And based on the fact that you spend every spare hour in the engineering labs, I’m sure you’ll do just fine with your professional appearance. But you should still get out once in a while.” He went over to his closet and pulled it open, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a drawer. “And what are you doing up this late? Usually, you’re in the lab or asleep by now. Doing a bit of cleaning?”
“Yes,” he said tersely. “We’re changing our project, so I’m clearing out some old equipment from here to make space for the new supplies.”
“Fair enough.” Jim threw his socks and trousers into the laundry refresher and pulled on his sweatpants. “But will I be able to turn off the lights soon? I’ve got an early-morning flight sim slot, and I’ve got to be awake at 0500.”
Sven was throwing some more equipment into another box. Power packs, sensors, and miniature field generators, from what Jim could tell. The usual engineer modeling junk. “I’m bringing this back to the lab now, to the storage locker. I’ll be quiet when I come back in.” He stacked the smaller box on top of the one he’d placed on his bed.
Jim frowned. “Need a hand with those?” He tugged the clean t-shirt over his head and took a step towards the boxes. “That looks kinda heavy.”
Sven turned his body between Jim and the boxes and lifted them off the bed with a grunt, skinny arms straining with the weight. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Okay, I get it. It’s a man thing.” Jim winked and took a step back. “See you around.”
“Later.” With another grunt, he made his way out the door.
“Weird guy,” Jim said to the empty room as he pulled his bedsheets back and climbed in. But at least he’s clean. Does his laundry, doesn’t leave food lying around, and doesn’t bring girls back to the room... not that they’d have him, the way he never socializes. “Lights.” Of course, there are rumors about what the engineering cadets do on leave...
Chuckling to himself, Jim pulled the blanket up over his shoulder as he rolled onto his side. He needed to get some sleep. It was going to be an early morning.
Jim yawned as he tucked his PADD into his bag. His Friday afternoon lecture – Interspecies Ethics – was as dry as ever. The subject matter was interesting, but it was being taught by a Vulcan professor, and Jim was certain that his personal mission was to bore the class to death from sheer lack of emotion. So between the lack of sleep and the lack of excitement, Jim had been surprised there wasn’t drool on his arm when he pried his head off his hand at the end of class.
But the week was over. The exhausting, miserable, gut-wrenching week was over. Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad, but had definitely been exhausting. Unlike most Fridays, when he was looking forward to some social time, all Jim really wanted was to go back to his room, have a drink, and call it an early night.
Bones had been right – he’d spent far too much time in the flight simulator in the past week. It was almost compulsive. Sure, it made him miserable, but he had to get over this. He needed to take the assistant instructor exam. And he needed to be a real part of his flight squad again.
My flight squad. He actually felt guilty. He’d meant to spend time with them at some point, but he couldn’t. Sure, they were all upset about Tambe, but nobody else was afraid to get back in the shuttle. He was holding the team back. They were already down to five, but without him, how could they even pretend to be a proper squad?
What would happen to Nova Squadron? What would happen to the promises they’d made each to other? The thought hit Jim bitterly. Sure, plenty of squads promised themselves that they’d be something amazing together – team for life and all that. It’s just that Jim was sure Nova Squadron really meant it. They’d already figured out their course schedules to take Advanced Flight Maneuvers next semester as a group, when they’d move to single pilot crafts. Sure, they all had to qualify for it, but they’d never doubted that they’d be able to do it. It would be incredible. They’d be incredible.
And now, they weren’t even a full squad, much less a squad for the history books.
Even worse, Jim could barely bring himself to face them.
The board of inquiry on Tuesday was still gnawing at the back of his mind. The insinuation by Admiral Ndungu that he might have caused the crash... it had horrified him at first, but now, it seeped through his thoughts like a nauseating fog. He refused to believe it, but he couldn’t pretend it had never been said.
It was okay, Jim told himself as he made his way down the stairs from the upper lecture hall seats and into the main atrium. As soon as the investigation team found their answers, this would all be laid to rest. He could put it behind him, finally, and get his mind back on the task of living the life that had almost been lost, and trying to live it fully enough for Tambe, too.
The afternoon was already darkening with clouds as he left Cochrane Hall, and he hunched his shoulders against the wind. The air smelled like rain, and if he got back to his dorm quickly, maybe he wouldn’t get soaked. That was the last thing he needed on a day like today. As tired as he was, even with all the marvels of modern medicine, he was sure he’d still come down with a cold if he got caught out in the rain on a day like today.
He grinned half-heartedly. Bones would surely give him hell for that.
He was halfway across the main quad when his comm chimed. Bones, maybe, angling to invite him over for the drinks they hadn’t had the night before. Smiling tiredly, Jim pulled his comm from his bag. “Kirk here.”
“Kirk, this is Captain Pike.”
Jim jolted to a stop. “Captain? What’s going on?” There was something distinctly uncomfortable about Pike’s tone of voice.
“I’d like you to meet me in my office.”
“Am... am I... what’s going on, sir?
“I’ll explain in person. Please report promptly.”
Jim stammered for a moment before swallowing his questions and objections and simply said, “Okay, sir.”
“Good. Pike out.”
Jim closed the comm and slipped it back into his bag. His lethargy from a moment ago was gone, replaced by a cold sensation in his gut that matched the wind cutting through his clothes. Pike had sounded angry, so this couldn’t be good. Jim had no idea what was going on, but as he looked through the thin fog at Archer Hall on the far end of the quad, he knew there was no avoiding this.
Tucking his bag tight under his arm, he took off at a jog across campus, feeling the first cold drops of rain beginning to pelt against his face.
Leonard’s breath was quick in his chest as he hurried across the floor of the hangar. Really, he wanted to be collapsing onto his couch in his room right about now, to sit back, put his feet up, and thank whatever gods were listening that the week was over. But no. He needed to find Jim.
It was Pike’s call that had sent him scrambling from the clinic to the shuttle hangar on the other end of campus through the pouring rain. Whereas the infirmary was on the main campus of the Presidio, the shuttle hangar was on Crissy Field, and Leonard hadn’t had the patience to wait for a campus transport. At least it was downhill. And at least he’d checked the weather grid for the day and had taken his parka.
Somehow, he doubted Jim had remembered his.
At this hour on a Friday, the hangar was all but deserted. A few maintenance engineers and Academy staff members cast curious looks at him as he hurried towards the back corner of the hangar where the flight simulator facility was located, but everyone left him alone. It was just fine with him. The only person he needed to deal with that night was Jim.
Apparently, Pike had given Jim some rough news that afternoon, and he hadn’t taken it so well. Not that Leonard could blame him.
The investigation had been closed.
They’d given no reason why they closed the investigation. No word on who had sabotaged the shuttle in the first place. No mention of whether they’d even found the saboteur at all. Just... nothing. Closed. That was the only information Pike had gotten. Therefore, that was all he could tell Jim, and based on the reaction, it hadn’t gone over so well.
And as soon as Pike had given Jim the news, the kid had taken off. Pike had tracked him via his communicator to the flight sim facility, and suggested that maybe Leonard would have better luck talking him down. Pike was probably right about that... but it didn’t mean it was going to be easy.
Leonard swiped his ID badge over the security checkpoint at the door to the flight sim facility. A quick look around made it obvious where Jim was. Wet footprints led the way to the only simulator that was active.
“Dammit, Jim,” Leonard sighed aloud. The kid had definitely not brought a parka, and was probably soaked to the skin. And it was freezing outside.
Not wanting to just barge in, Leonard wanted to get some idea of what he was facing before he opened the door. Feeling only marginally guilty, he pulled up the access screen on the exterior simulator controls and entered his medical access code. Instantly, the basic biosign readouts on the occupant began to scroll across the screen, along with a video feed of the interior of the simulator.
Jim was sitting in the pilot’s seat, hair wet, clothes drenched. His face was wrought with emotion, but his jaw was clenched, holding it in check. If anything, the tightly reined-in fury seemed to be keeping his other emotions at bay. His heart rate was too fast, respiration shallow, and body temperature... Damned kid’s running a fever already. That was all the biosensors showed on these things, but it was enough. Mostly, it was Jim’s eyes that said it all: wild and reckless above the tight clench of his jaw, with lines of stress across the rest of his features.
Jim was minutes away from blowing a fuse or breaking down.
With a regretful sigh, Leonard tapped the comm unit. “Jim. It’s time to come out of there.”
Inside the simulation, Jim jerked in his seat as if he’d been shocked. “Wha... wh – Bones? What the hell are you – wait... no.”
“Yes, Jim. You’ve had enough.”
Jim’s eyes searched around the cabin of the simulator, quickly finding the vid lens above the viewscreen. He glared up at it furiously. “You have no idea what enough is, Bones. You’re damned right I’ve had enough, but the world doesn’t give a shit about that, so neither do I.”
Leonard took a steady breath. “Maybe I give a shit, Jim.”
“If you did, you’d let me finish this sim!” he snarled, eyes returning to the control panel and viewscreen. “I’ve got to do this, Bones. I need to pass my exam. My flight squad needs me, now more than ever. If those bastards aren’t even going to finish the investigation, then Nova Squadron needs to be as strong as we can be, and we can’t keep the team together if I can’t handle flying!”
So that’s what some of this is about. “Jim, believe me, I understand some of what you’re going through, and I can help you.”
“Help me, Bones?” He glanced back up at the lens. “You’ve already helped me. You saved my sorry ass after you told me not to come crying to you when I crashed the fucking shuttle.”
Leonard’s stomach clenched. “Jim, you know I didn’t mean that.”
“You said it. And you were right – I should have been better. I should have prevented the crash. I mean, what if... if I...” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head sharply and turned his attention back to the flight sim.
“Jim, if you don’t come out of there on your own, I’ll need to override it.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” Leonard said as calmly as possible. “Come out of there.”
“Like hell I will.”
Shaking his head sadly, Leonard tabbed in the medical override code. A split second later, all the lights on the control board in the simulator cabin went dead, and the overhead light came up to normal levels. Jim’s hands hesitated over the controls as he looked around himself frantically then furiously, then he slammed his hands down on the control panel.
“Bones! What the fuck are you doing?” He glared up at the vid lens. “Put it back.”
“I can’t do that, Jim.” As a doctor, he couldn’t let Jim continue. As a friend, he simply wouldn’t. With a sigh, he activated the hatch to the sim pod, and a moment later, a furious Jim Kirk was chest-to-chest with him, snarling angrily.
“Why the hell did you do that? Huh?” From this distance, it was impossible to ignore the bright red splotches of fever on Jim’s cheeks, the unfocused look in his eyes. He wasn’t all there. Leonard had seen Jim angry a few times, sure, but never angry at him, not like this. “After a fucking bullshit day like today, all I needed was to focus on something, and you had to go and rip that from me.”
“I’m about to rip you a new one if you don’t pull your head out of your ass.” Knowing he was walking a volatile line, he put his hands on Jim’s upper arms, gripping just firmly enough to make it clear that he wanted Jim’s undivided attention. He inwardly cringed at how soaking wet Jim’s uniform was. “Punishing yourself like this isn’t going to help, Jim!”
Just as quickly, Jim yanked his arms out of Leonard’s grasp, stumbling a couple of steps back, breathing heavily. “Punishing my –” He cut himself off, shaking his head with a crazed sort of laugh. “Maybe I deserve the punishment.”
Leonard frowned as he watched a haunted look creep into Jim’s eyes. “What? How the hell do you deserve a punishment? Good God, Jim, you’ve been through hell in the past few weeks. And you’re making yourself sick. You’re soaked to the skin, you’re running a fever, and –”
"But I crashed the shuttle, Bones." There was something broken and wrecked in his eyes, behind the crazed front. "I did exactly what you warned me not to do. I did something reckless, and I crashed the shuttle. And I killed Tambe."
"What?" Leonard balked, then took a hesitant step closer to Jim. "How can you think that? You've been shouting about sabotage since the moment you regained consciousness over a month ago. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about that.”
“No!” Jim snapped, just a bit too quickly, then with a choked sound, “No.” His eyes narrowed. “I know someone screwed with the shuttle engine. But they’ll never prove that now, will they? Never confirm it, never let us know. They’ve closed the investigation and sealed the files. I can’t crack any of them! There’s no information available, no way for me to start my own investigation, and all I’m left with is knowing that the shuttle went down and I was flying it and... fuck!”
Jim turned and slammed his hand angrily against the wall of the simulator. And again, harder. With a growl, he hauled back his hand and went to smash a closed fist into the panel, but with a desperate lunge, Leonard grabbed his fist and spun him around. “Dammit, Jim get a grip on yourself!”
“Fuck... Bones, let go!” He gave a half-hearted tug, but Leonard held fast, and Jim seemed to sense that a physical scuffle wasn’t what he needed. Instead, he glared at Leonard, eyes narrowed. “And besides, why the hell should I ‘get a grip’ of myself, huh? I’ve already managed to fuck it up pretty good. I haven’t had a grip on myself in a good long while, and you know it.”
“You’ve been recovering, Jim,” Leonard said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yes, you’re a bit shaken, but you can get help. After the shit you’ve been through, you’ve got every reason to –”
“No fucking way! I’m not going to see a damned counselor. I’m not going to let myself be that weak again, Bones, with everyone else doing things to me and telling me what to do and controlling everything. I can’t! I’ve had enough of that, enough of being someone… something that needs to be fixed. I’m going to fix myself this time.”
“Oh, so this is how you’re going to do it, huh?” Leonard actually let go of him and took a step back, appraising. “You’re going to work yourself into a frenzy, punching walls and skipping sleep, scaring yourself with too many flight sims, blaming yourself for something that’s not your fault, and making yourself sick. Great plan, kid. And what will be left when you’re done? Do I get to pick up the pieces when you go too far?”
For a split second, Jim almost looked stunned enough to stop, but then his eyes narrowed. “This has nothing to do with you, Bones.”
“The hell it doesn’t,” Leonard growled low in his throat. “Next-of-kin, Jim? You didn’t want to talk to your mother, but you put me on your living will? You bet your damned rawhide this has to do with me. And whether you want me to or not, I will be here to pick up the pieces. But maybe, kid, just maybe, you’ll take a step back before it goes that far, and you’ll realize that this isn’t just about you either.”
Jim stared at him incredulously for a moment, and then suddenly started to laugh. Leonard hadn’t heard a sound like that since his rotations in a psych ward while getting his Ph.D. It was blood-curdling. “It’s always about me, Bones! Don’t you get it? It’s always me.” He took a few dizzy steps back, and started pacing. “Sure, the universe kicks everyone in the ass a few times, but with me, it never fucking stops! Every time I think I’ve caught a break, every time I think things might get better, something else sends it all crashing down. Even if I come out of it in one piece, it rips just a little bit more, cuts a little bit deeper. And it never stops.”
He stopped and leaned one arm against the wall of the simulator, pressing his forehead against the back of his hand. “I’m fucking scared, Bones.” The anger was gone from his voice, suddenly replaced by something rougher, more primal. “A couple of months ago, I thought I was fearless. Got this crazy notion that I had some of my father in me. Had what it took to be a hero, or some stupid shit like that. Now, I’ve being reduced to a pathetic coward by a flight simulator, and I have no idea why. My teammate is dead, and I can’t even prove to myself, or anyone else, that it wasn’t actually my fault. The people I’m supposed to trust to find who did it, and catch him… they’ve quit! Pike’s got no answers, I don’t know what’s going to happen to my flight squad, and it’s so fucked up I don’t even know where to begin!” He finished with a pained snarl, slamming his forearms against the wall, then bowing his head for a moment before looked sideways at Leonard. “What am I supposed to do, Bones?”
For a long moment, Leonard stared at Jim. He wanted to paint a bright picture of Jim’s myriad of talents and loyal friends. Wanted to tell the kid that he just needed to take a deep breath, give himself time to recover, and keep doing the amazing work he’d done since the day Leonard had met him, and that everything would work itself out. And would love to tell him to just step away from the flight simulator, come have a drink, and laugh about it in the morning. But he couldn’t.
No simple, sugar-coated answer was going to fix this. This wasn’t the sort of wound you could dress in a bandage and leave to heal. Instead, cautiously, Leonard stepped towards Jim and slowly wrapped one hand around Jim’s wrist, guiding him away from the wall. Oddly, Jim didn’t resist as strongly as Leonard had expected. “Jim… you need to give yourself a break here. You’ve worn yourself ragged. I’m gonna guess you’ve had less than twenty hours of sleep all week. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Maybe,” Jim said warily, easing his wrist out of Leonard’s grasp.
Leonard let him, but kept held his gaze firmly. “There’s no excuse for them dropping the investigation. I don’t have a damned clue why, and based on what Pike told me –”
“Pike!” Jim’s eyes went wide. “He sent you here, didn’t he?”
“He did,” Leonard said flatly. “Or more to the point, he told me what he told you. I figured you wouldn’t take it well, so I had him tell me where you went.”
“Oh.”
“So… based on what Pike told me, he doesn’t know why they dropped the investigation either. Even though he’s not part of it anymore, he’s got someone feeding him information.”
“Commander Toland,” Jim said quietly.
Leonard felt his eyebrow jump up. “That… makes sense,” he said vaguely, remembering seeing her outside Jim’s hospital room. “And from what I could tell, even his informant doesn’t seem to know why the investigation was dropped. It happened really suddenly. But… there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“But –”
“No, kid… don’t. Sometimes, that’s just the way it is, and the hardest part is that you have to accept it. There’s nothing you can do about the investigation. But –” He took a step closer to Jim. “You can keep your squad together –”
“Not if I’m too scared to fly,” Jim grumbled.
“– and get your fears under control –”
“That’s rich coming from Mr. Aviophobia himself.”
“Dammit, Jim – be quiet and listen!” He shook his head to himself, trying to reset his thoughts. “Control the things you can. The investigation isn’t one of those things. The crash itself wasn’t one of those things. Your reaction to it, however, is.” He stood a bit straighter, giving Jim a level gaze. “I’m going to help you.”
Jim blinked twice, and shook his head incredulously. “Wait, you’re going to help me with this… this flying thing? Bones, I was supposed to help you.”
Leonard nodded, putting the pieces together in his mind as he spoke. “Maybe you still can. Jim, I’m a doctor. Helping people… it’s my comfort zone. Maybe if I can help you with your flying thing, as you put it, I might be able to help myself in the process.”
“Help each other?” Jim asked, a bit less defensive this time.
“Something like that, kid.” He gave a thoughtful half-grin. “Besides, I need a new research project. How does ‘Aviophobia: Treatment Approaches for the Unorthodox Patient’ sound?”
“Like you want to turn me into a lab rat,” Jim said flatly, folding his arms across his chest.
“I’d be studying myself, too.” He grinned a bit wider. “I have to do my research project in one of my medical specialties. I’m a trauma surgeon, Jim, but I’ve got a Ph.D., too. Psychology.”
“Maybe more of a guinea pig.”
“I could give a conference on aviophobia for a final project,” Leonard said, feeling the sudden surge of excitement at the prospect of a new academic challenge. “Come on, Jim. You want to get back to your old self, I want to pass the goddamned flight requirement, and I need a project. What do you say?”
Jim stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Squeak, squeak.”
Leonard snorted. “I’ll take that as a yes. But before we do anything else… dammit, Jim, we need to get you out of those clothes.” He grabbed Jim by the arm, pulling him close and pressing a hand against Jim’s forehead as he started steering him towards the door. “I don’t need a damned scanner to know you’re running a fever. Come on, I’m taking you back to my room and giving you an anti-pyretic – and I don’t want to hear one complaint out of you about the hypospray. You’re the one who had to go out and get yourself soaked to the skin. I keep telling you to keep your parka in your bag, but the day you listen to me –”
“Bones?” Jim interrupted gently.
“What, kid?”
“Don’t ever change.”
The weekend crept by under a thick blanket of fog and rain. Subdued, quiet, and just what he needed, Jim realized.
Jim woke up on Bones’ couch Saturday morning to the persistent splatter of heavy rain against the window and an empty dorm room. There was a note in the kitchenette by the coffee maker, letting him know that Bones had a short clinic shift that morning. So Jim wasted the morning curled up on Bones’ couch with his PADD, studying, only leaving once to grab to-go lunches from the mess hall. Bones came back from clinic and they both settled into an amiable silence, suffused only by ongoing tapping of rain on the window. Bones thanked him for the lunch and ate quietly. Jim had no major inclination to leave; the weather was too miserable to bother going into the city, and Bones seemed quite satisfied with staying put.
Jim didn’t ask Bones about going down to the flight simulators. Didn’t want to push his luck. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have work to do. He had a report due for his Ethics class, and he’d learned quickly that Vulcans liked their reports wordy. It was more than enough to keep him occupied. Besides, based on the way Bones was completely focused on his PADD, despite his lazy sprawl across his bed, the guy was up to something.
The pleasant silence continued until the sun went down. Finally, Bones looked out the window, then over at the chrono on the wall. He stood, stretched, and said, “Okay, Jim. Put your boots on. And grab your damned parka this time.”
The sudden announcement surprised Jim, but he was on his feet faster than even he’d expected from himself. “Yes, sir!”
A grumble and a raised eyebrow. “Cut that out, kid.”
“Sure thing, Bonesy.”
He grabbed a small case and tucked it into his ever-present messenger bag, scowling fiercely. “You know, there are ways to temporarily paralyze a human’s vocal cords.”
Jim snapped his mouth shut, still grinning, and followed Bones out the door.
It was cold and miserable outside, but Jim had to admit - the parka was quite effective. As usual, Bones was right. Of course, Bones’ cure for his chill-induced fever the previous night hadn’t been quite as bad as he’d promised. No hypospray - just a warm shower and a mug of hot chocolate. And damn, Bones could make good hot chocolate. Maybe, Jim pondered, he could finagle another round tonight without getting soaked to the skin first. One stupidity-induced fever had earned him a hot chocolate; the second probably would get him an unceremonious hypospray to the neck.
Jim was only slightly surprised to find that Bones was indeed leading him to the shuttlecraft hangar. When they arrived at the flight sim facility, there were only a couple of other simulators active. Usually, Saturdays were busy with cadets trying to hone their skills, but Jim guessed that nobody wanted to leave the warm comfort of the dorms on a day like today.
He shed the parka and looked over at Bones, who was already entering some data into the flight simulator he’d reserved. “So... what’s the plan?”
“The plan,” he began softly, “is to go for a flight.” He finished tapping something into the control panel and the hatch slid open.
Jim frowned. “That’s it? I mean... isn’t that what you told me I’ve overdone lately? Bones?”
Bones didn’t reply, but made a sweeping gesture, indicating for Jim to get his ass into the flight simulator. A moment later, Jim was ensconced in the pilot’s seat, and Bones was shuffling in behind him. However, instead of sitting directly in the copilot’s seat, Bones dropped his bag on the seat and pulled out the small case he’d grabbed before leaving the dorm room.
“Hey? What’s that?” Jim craned his neck to see, but Bones just glared at him.
“What have I been telling you about patience, kid? Relax.” He opened the case and pulled out an small, odd-looking device. “I grabbed these from the clinic this morning.” He reached over towards Jim’s neck, holding the thing pinched between his fingers.
Instinctively, Jim ducked away. “Whoa, whoa! What’s that?”
Bones sat back, shrugged, and stuck the device against his own neck. “It’s just a sensor, you big baby. Take a look.” He held out his PADD and tapped in a few commands. A second later, a readout which was obviously a very basic set of vital signs popped up on the screen. “Have you ever heard of biofeedback?”
Jim frowned, looking between the small sensor on Bones’ neck and the readout on the PADD. “Sounds familiar. What is it?”
“Really, really old technique that people used to use to help confront the physical reactions they have due to phobias, as well as tons of other medical issues. And it worked, without drugs or other invasive therapies, so people still use the technique today. Of course, we’ve streamlined it, simplified and improved it over the years.” He grinned and rested the PADD on the control board. “The idea is that if you can see what the stress is doing to your body, you can learn to control your reaction physically. It’s basically a way to learn to control your own body.” He gave Jim a meaningful look. “You actually gave me the idea for it yourself.”
“Oh?” Jim asked warily. “How’s that?”
“Because you’re a control freak. And don’t give me that look - it’s usually works out in your favor.” He tapped the sensor on his neck. “This gives you a window into what your own body is doing... how it’s reacting to something... so you can control it yourself.”
“Control it myself?” Jim echoed, curious now. “So this doesn’t do anything to you? It just... it’s just a sensor?”
“No, kid, it doesn’t do anything to you. And look...this one’s extremely simple. It only measures heart rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure. There are more complex sensors available, of course, but for today, this is plenty.” Bones pulled it off his own neck and held it out.
Jim looked at the sensor skeptically. “What do I do?”
“Mostly, you try to stay calm,” Bones said easily. “I’ll coach you as we go, but basically, you’d just keep an eye on your own heart rate and breathing. If either of them gets too fast, the program alerts you. You focus on your own body and slow it down again. For today, we’ll keep it really simple, just to give you a feel for it. As you progress with time, I’ll teach you techniques for controlling your breathing and your own heart rate so that if you start to panic, you can bring it back down again. We’ll work with some cognitive techniques, too. You control everything, Jim... including yourself. That’s the whole point.”
For a long moment, Jim surveyed Bones critically. “So... if you know about all this stuff, and you’re a doctor... why did you almost throw up on me the day I first met you?”
Bones rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Because I’d never expected to join Starfleet, or have any other reason for my feet to leave the ground, so I figured it didn’t matter if I was less than fond of these flying tin cans. Plus...” He pressed his lips together in chagrin. “I’m stubborn.”
Jim chuckled. “Makes two of us.”
Bones nodded and pulled the sensor off his own neck, holding it out towards Jim. “So... you up for it?”
Jim stuck his lower lip out and shrugged. “Sure.” He tilted his head to the side, but couldn’t quite suppress the shiver and flinch as he felt the sensor latch on to his skin. “So now, what do we do?”
“Well,” Bones said easily, activating the shuttlecraft controls, “You’re going to pay attention to your own heart rate and breathing as we go through this simulation, and try to control both of them. I’m going to make observations. And we -” He started the preliminary engine diagnostic cycle. “- are going for a ride.”
Jim actually found himself laughing as he began the pre-flight checks and powering up the engines.
The flight simulation Bones had programmed actually surprised Jim. They didn’t even break the lower atmosphere. It was a short maneuvering flight over low, familiar terrain. Sure, Jim felt the odd, uncontrollable fear threatening him a few times, but as his own heart and breathing sped up, the PADD beeped at him, and he focused so carefully on controlling the physical response that the rest seemed to fall into place.
“That was pretty good, Bones,” Jim said as he engaged the landing cycle. “Maybe you’ve got a pretty good idea here with this biofeedback thing.”
“Of course it’s a good idea. That’s why they gave me a medical license,” he said confidently.
“Careful, Bones – if you get too cocky, you’re gonna start sounding like me.”
“Oh God, I hope not.”
“Could be worse,” Jim teased. He was quiet as he made the final maneuvers and landed the shuttle on the designated spot on the simulated landing pad, then breathed a satisfied sigh. “That was a really short sim,” he said as he unstrapped his harness. “Maybe we could go again. Try a higher maneuver? Orbit?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jim. The whole idea behind this is only pushing your comfort zone in tiny increments, and never letting yourself get beyond the point where you’re comfortable controlling your reactions. Otherwise, it doesn’t work.” He reached over and detached the sensor from Jim’s neck. “You did really well today, kid.”
“Thanks. Good enough for your project?”
Bones gave him a look, then tucked the sensor back into his case. “Good enough for you is good enough for me. How do you feel?”
Jim smiled. “Fine, Bones.” And he meant it. “But you know... just in case I’m still suffering at some level, I might need another dose of that hot chocolate of yours. You could cure a rainy day with that stuff.”
Bones smiled and looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe I can, Jim. Maybe I can.”
Bones couldn’t quite cure a rainy day, but Jim concluded that he was pretty damned good at relieving the symptoms. And so Saturday faded into Sunday - another relaxed day of hiding from the rainstorm, broken only by meals and one flight sim.
This time, they went a bit higher. Not quite orbital, but upper atmosphere. And Jim didn’t feel the panic taking hold of him this time, either. Maybe the biofeedback worked. Maybe it was because he wasn’t pushing himself to extremes or wearing himself out with hours in the simulator. Maybe because he was working with Bones, and part of his attention was actually spent on making sure Bones was okay with the sim, too. Maybe it was because he finally found himself able to talk to someone about what he was going through – someone who understood. Bones wasn’t going to judge him. The guy already knew him, and that was enough.
They arrived back at Bones’ dorm just as the last vestiges of both the day and the storm faded into a rainless evening. It didn’t take much begging to cajole another round of hot chocolate, and they enjoyed the steaming beverages while watching the campus lights come on. It was almost like the way they’d been before the crash. The banter was comfortable and welcomed. They talked about classes, asshole professors, annoying classmates, possible postings after graduation... and Bones even admitted what he’d been planning for his career path. Yeah, kid... I’ll try to get assigned to the same ship as you. It had almost made Jim forget about his fears.
The one thing they never mentioned was the investigation.
By 2200 hours, Jim knew it was time to stop hiding from the world in Bones’ room. Tomorrow morning, he’d have to dive back into classes. He’d probably get called to an Academic Advisor's meeting with Pike at some point, just to talk. He’d have hand-to-hand in the afternoon, so he’d get to see Romano’s ugly mug, as if he didn’t need any more reminders. But he also had his flight training in the morning, and this time, he felt ready to work with his team again.
He was just pulling on his boots when Bones tapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, Bones?”
Bones held out his fist, palm down, and Jim automatically offered his upturned hand. The small sensor device they’d used in the simulator for the biofeedback program fell into his open palm. “The frequency code is on the back,” Bones explained. “Just tap it into your PADD, and it’ll automatically activate the biofeedback program. Use it during your flight classes if you want to, kid, but promise that you’ll take it easy. Stick to the program. Focus on the biofeedback techniques. The more you get used to paying attention to your own body, the better you’ll get at controlling your reactions.”
“Okay.”
“And if you do, could you record it for me?”
Jim looked at the small device in his hand and smiled. “I will,” he said sincerely as he tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks, Bones. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, Jim. Just don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t.” He grinned sheepishly. “I think I’ve learned my lesson on that.”
Bones laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No, Jim. You haven’t. You’re going to keep overdoing it for the rest of your life. And every so often, I’ll be able to rein you in just enough to keep you from doing something completely crazy.”
Jim frowned, feeling a surge of guilt. “Bones, I’m –”
“But that’s okay,” Bones interrupted, giving Jim a half-grin. “I think I’ve gotten used to shit like that from you. And… I guess I don’t mind it so much after all.”
Jim patted Bones’ hand twice before it dropped from his shoulder, then he turned and walked out of the room.
Outside of the dorm, the night sky was clear enough that some stars were visible even through the lights of the city. Jim smiled up at the view, then began walking quickly down the path towards his own dorm. He was going to need to get some solid rest if he was going to tackle everything he had planned over the next few days. Daily flight sims with Bones, reviews for the pre-holiday exams, and pulling his flight team back together.
It was going to be a busy week.
(To Part Fifteen...)
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