Chapter Text
“…any chronic pain?”
She shook her head for what seemed to be the millionth time. Establishment of care appointments were always boring and redundant, but with the fear radiating off her, the current one also felt excruciatingly slow.
Plus there was the feeling she was lying to him. She told him her appetite was fine when her mealcard was already screaming at him that her calories were too low, and the bed was telling him she bordered on underweight. She told him she slept fine when he knew for a fact she had regular nightmares and was, according to Jim, barely sleeping. She said she didn’t have headaches when he saw her nearly constantly rubbing either her sinuses or temples.
He finally sighed and sat down on a rolling stool to the side of the biobed. “Darlin,” he huffed. “This’ll go a lot easier if you don’t lie to me,” he raised an eyebrow and noticed her cower slightly. He sighed again. “Kid, I know you don’t sleep, and-”
Her eyes went wide, “I’m not waking Jim up with more nightmares?”
He raised his eyebrow again, “the nightmares you said you don’t have?”
She cowered again and he felt a flash of guilt. He knew she was petrified and he was making things worse. But it was a conversation they needed to have. “You’ve gotta sleep ,”
“I do!”
“Sleep well ,”
She clammed up.
He shook his head, “we’re pretty much done, I'd like to give you something to help you sleep, you’ll never adjust to life onboard if you’re not sleeping. I also need to take some blood,” he saw all the color drain from her face at that.
He remembered what Christine had said, “heads up, Callie has a thing about blood draws. Seems a lot were demanded of her when her mom got sick.”
He’d raised an eyebrow, “yeah, she said they’d test the attempted cures on her blood to make sure the disease never activated.”
Christine shook her head, “that’s not how xenopolycythemia works,”
Bones shrugged, “I know. It sounds like they were doing something shady with her blood, but why?”
Why indeed. He wanted to get a look at her blood himself. The pathologist in him was beyond curious.
“Just one vial,” he quickly reassured Callie. “And it’s with a pen, so it bruises ya less,”
She nodded mutely and as he took her blood, he glanced up and asked, “they never injected you with anything, right? Just took a lot of blood?”
“Over and over,” she nodded.
His lips pressed into a thin line as he pondered the necessity of what she was describing.
“Testing cures, you said?” He asked her.
“They had all these experimental treatments they’d get from overseas or other planets or something. They said that with some genetic illnesses, you can’t tell if you’re going to get it or not, even if you don’t have the gene. But sometimes when a cure is introduced, the disease activates. So it was like… Supposed to be a favor, I guess?” She winced. “I mean, I should be thankful, they were trying to make sure I’m not gonna die, but-”
“But it sounds like they overstepped and that’s not okay.”
She shrugged, “kinda par for the course.”
He felt his jaw tighten as he responded, “not here, it ain’t. Not in my medbay.”
Her eyebrows raised and lowered quickly, showing she didn’t believe him as he took the blood sample.
“Now, about-”
Before he could finish, red lights started flashing everywhere, a red alert sounding throughout the ship.
A blaring alarm sounds throughout medbay and I wince at how loud it is. Red lights start flashing as well along the walls.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a muster station assigned or would even know where to go if you did,” Bones speaks over the sirens.
Then the ship suddenly LURCHES so far to one side that I squeak and have to grab the edge of the bed in order to not fall off.
“Muster stations,” I grumble and try to slyly pant through shaking breaths, “have we hit an iceberg?!”
The ship lurches again, harder this time, and the lights flicker. They come back on in what seems to be an emergency pattern, only the most important lights bright and the rest dimmed.
Then it feels like something hits the ship. Almost like when you’re sitting in your car and a shopping cart hits it because everything in Iowa is flat and feels like a wind tunnel in summer storms. It’s the feel of a good strong hit being absorbed across something much larger, but a good hit is a good hit, and usually at least your paint is chipped.
“What was-” then it happens again, harder, and my body rises off the bed before finding itself being flung through the air.
I barely squeak again before Bones catches me midair around my waist before setting me down on my feet.
“You seem used to this…” I grumble, trying to fix my shirt.
“Your brother is the captain…” He grumbles back as he steadies me with a hand on my shoulder.
I’m not sure he’s serious, kidding, or both.
Now that the lights have dimmed, the red flashing is more apparent, and more ominous, and I jump when the hand I didn’t realize is still on my shoulder, squeezes. “I need to get out to the main medbay, come with me so you don’t just go flying again,” and then he’s gently pulling me along out into the main bay.
Nurses are hurriedly, but without a trace of panic, moving about the room with ease. No one has come in yet.
Yet.
“What’s going on?” I finally ask. “Did we hit something, did something hit us, is this a storm, is it an attack-”
What felt like a shopping cart hitting us earlier is nothing compared to the hit that cuts off my sentence. Everyone hits the deck and not by choice.
I feel gravity almost… glitch? Slightly, when it happens. It’s not like we all just drop like sacks of potatoes- I mean, we do - but it’s nearly like being picked up and thrown down. In trying to avoid reinjuring my ankle, my bad-shoulder-side takes the brunt of my fall.
The lights flash on and off, and Bones lets out a massive string of curses. “Sound off!” He calls into the darkness.
Affirmative responses, along with quite a few groans, come from what I can only assume is the entire staff.
I’ve pushed myself up to my feet, purposely ignoring Bones’ outstretched hand, when he worriedly looks at my ankle. “You didn’t roll it again, did you?”
“No, no, I tried to make sure-”
“What happened to your shoulder?”
“My wha…” I look down at myself and see I’m cradling my left arm- it’s completely limp. “Crap.” It’s dislocated. …again.
“Welp, looks like you get a bed after all, darlin,” Bones announces, placing a hand on my upper back between my shoulder blades to steer me towards one. “You ever been told you’re hypermobile?”
I object, “no-no-no-nooo, listen, this has happened before, it’s fine, it can wait, I mean, psh, I waited 8 hours in the hospital waiting room the second time it happened. I can get by on some Advil for a while, while you take care of people who are actually injured.”
Bones dead stops and drops his hand from my back. “I know you said you had a bad shoulder… But it’s dislocated- like this- completely before?”
I nod but it hurts the ligaments connecting my neck to my shoulder. “Yeah, once partially and once totally.”
The ship tilts again, and we both take a couple steps to steady.
“Uh, yeah,” I try to think while balancing, my head starting to swim with adrenaline and pain. “I mean, the first time, she ripped it out, and I had to lie and say it happened trying to stop a runaway horse. But I got yelled at for that because it was my fault she had to grab me all the time. She told me it wasn’t even a lie because I was always grabbing onto runaway horses because I was too stupid to shut the gate, when in reality it would randomly unlatch, and so my shoulder was probably weak from that. The second time when it fully dislocated, that was from a…fall.” A shove that was meant to land me on my bed, but I hit the footboard instead. Totally my own fault, according to her.
“…Callie, how old were you each time?”
“14 and 15,” I go to shrug, then stop myself. “So honestly, it’s okay. The way we all fell in here… I’m sure you’ll need the beds,” I nod to them all, barely visible in the dim light as my eyes try to adjust.
Nurses bustling around give me something else to look at as I try to calm myself down. It’s a sea of two different shades of blue and medical white, like waves of water hurrying to wherever they need to be.
“Christ, kid,” the hand comes back to my back to steer me again. “You might be at a point it needs actual surgery to stop it from happenin’ again,” he shakes his head. “I’m really startin’ to think you’re hypermobile.”
“Hyper-what?”
“It’s basically being loose jointed,” he explains. “But seriously, come on, to a bed.”
I shake my head, “something really wrong is going on outside! People are going to start coming in more hurt than I am! You never even answered me- what’s going on?!”
The ship shudders hard again, not enough that we have to stagger again but enough that we each take a step.
He sighs, and I can see a debate within himself in his eyes as he tries to decide how much to tell me. “From my experience, it feels like we are being fired upon.”
“ What ?” I feel the color drain from my face and my legs go wobbly. “Why? Who?!”
He shakes his head and again tries to get me to move towards a biobed. “I don’t know. We won’t know until it’s over, most likely. Please let me take care of your arm before people come in.”
“If we’re still alive !” I all but screech. “A week I’ve been on this ship, and we’re already being attacked?!” I go over to a bed and use my one good arm to hop up, refusing the hand offered to me.
“Don’t freak out, but I’m going to strap you in,” Bones says, pulling a belt type thing over my thighs. “I don’t want to see you go flyin’ again,” he shakes his head.
I watch him, then look at the buckle, trying to see if I can unlatch it myself if I want.
He must see the look on my face. “It’s not locked, you can unlatch it,” he offers.
I nod, pulling my arm in to cradle it again, hissing in pain involuntarily.
The ship chooses that moment to tilt, sending Bones into the bed on my right, while he throws out a hand to try and steady me. The belt keeps me from flying, but my abs do have to work to stay upright.
Bones reaches for one of those massive clear padds again and starts scanning my shoulder. “Alright,” he finally says. “We’ll reduce it this time. But if it pops out again, I’m gonna insist on surgery, kid.”
I bristle, what gives him the right to insist ?
He runs away, literally, for a moment, and comes back with a few hypos. “Okay, muscle relaxer, painkiller, local anesthetic,” he explains. “Good?”
“Yeah. Is it the loopy painkiller, though?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to do that to you again,” he says gently. “We’re gonna try another one.”
I nod, “okay.”
“So you’re good with consenting to the reduction?”
I nod again. “Not like I’m consenting to surgery…”
He snorts.
“Did I uh… Did I say anything crazy when I was on those painkillers?”
Multiple hits rattle the ship, making me close my eyes and wince, even as the painkillers wash over me.
“Nothing… crazy,” he says hesitantly.
I eye him warily. “That doesn’t sound entirely truthful.”
“You talked a lot about your mom is all.”
My cheeks flare red, “what kind of stuff?”
“Just… some not so great things.”
Shame and guilt and embarrassment wash over me. My mom is dead and I was bad mouthing her?
I feel him start to touch my shoulder. “Can you feel any of this?”
I nod, chewing my lip. “It’s fine.”
“The heck it ain’t,” He responds, moving away for another hypospray.
I cock my head. “Huh?”
He shakes his head, “I’m not reducing a dislocated shoulder when you can feel it , child…”
“Huh.” I mutter again. “Weird.”
“...Why is that weird?” He asks as he deposits another hypo.
“That you care…” I mumble with my eyes closed.
“I… Why wouldn’t I?”
“Doctors never do…”
“Well, I do.”
“Sure.”
I hear him sigh. “Can you feel this?”
My eyes fly open and I look over at him. His hands are on my shoulder and upper arm and I had no idea. I shake my head, “no, not at all.”
He nods. “Good. Doubt you wanna watch,” he warns.
I scoff, “not like I’ve not watched before…”
He looks down at my arm, and I do look towards my lap before he counts down and pops it back in.
Someone calls out for Bones and he hollers back to just keep triaging and he’ll be there in a second.
Suddenly, Jim appears through the medbay doors. He catches my eye immediately and Bones follows my gaze, worry creasing his face. I see him do a visual once over on Jim as he walks over to us.
“What happened?” He asks, seeing me still cradling my arm. “Are you hurt? Are you-”
“She’ll be fine, Jim, she dislocated her shoulder when we got hit and we all hit the deck.”
Jim looks at me appraisingly, like he doesn’t quite believe him, but he sighs and says, “Callie, we need your help.”
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“We’re under attack and what they want… is to talk to you.”
“To me ?!”
He nods. “Do you… think you can do it?”
“Who even is it?”
“It’s… well, they say it’s the doctor that treated Winona.”
She went pale and Bones’ eyebrows shot up. “Really?” He asked.
Jim nodded. He started to see just how stressed Jim was- breath more ragged than he was trying to portray, eyes darting anywhere but the eyes of anyone else, and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
His mask had slipped and he was desperately trying to get it back into place, dissociating all the while.
It was bordering on too much for Jim to handle, and that meant something.
Len’s mind was easily made up, “well, as the treating doctor, I’m coming along.”
“Bones, I’m fine,” Jim snapped, eyes settling on his sister.
“Oh, you think I didn’t see you cupping that bad rib when you came in?”
A glare was thrown in the good doctor’s direction. “You don’t need to follow me to the bridge for a bruised rib,” he growled.
Len raised an eyebrow as he all too easily recognized the look of Jim backed into a corner. Time to diffuse. “Maybe not,” he crossed his arms and nodded at Jim once, before nodding to Callie once. “But she goes, I go.”
“... she goes, I go.”
My head whips involuntarily up and over to my left, to look at the… at the doctor (?) that is trying to… protect (?) me? (?)
“What, no!” I immediately object. “I-”
“ You ,” I am interrupted, “do not need to be walking around this ship without a regen cycle on that shoulder. One we obviously do not have time for,” he scowls. At who, I’m not sure. “So,” he reaches inside a panel under the bed and straightens, holding a bag with the Starfleet Medical insignia, “I’m coming along to put that arm in a sling until we can come back down here and get it properly fixed.”
I glance between the two men, Jim unbuckling the belt and helping me off the bed and Bones checking that his bag is stocked.
“Is she-” Jim looks at Bones, then at me, “are you-” back to Bones, “are you sure she’s okay?”
I huff, trying to hide the shaking that has returned in full force. “I’m as good as I’m going to get."
“How’s the pain?” Bones asks as I follow Jim out.
I nod, as we get into the turbolift, “it’s okay.”
Please state your destination
“Bridge!” Two male voices bark, making me flinch.
And both of the voice’s owners' wince in kind.
Bones sighs, all but throwing his bag on the ground in frustration as he unrolls a swath of tape and eyes my arm. “Alright,” he reaches out for me, “let’s see what…” I’ve already flinched away at the outreach and he trails off.
Instead of waiting for the yelling to start, I push, “where is everyone?”
“Likely at their posts, it’s a good thing the halls aren’t full of screaming, bloody people like in the movies,” Bones explains, hands outstretched in placation. “It’s a good thing we didn’t pass anyone.”
“And why has the… hitting stopped?” I ask, feeling idiotic. I have no idea what they were shooting at us, it could be pool noodles for all I understand!
Jim’s voice lowers as his head tilts to face the floor. “Because I agreed to go get you to talk to them,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but it was the o-”
“Only way, yeah I know, it’s okay. I get it,” I stop myself from shrugging, eyeing the doctor still holding bandages in my periphery.
We arrive on the bridge and the doors whip open, but everything slows down for me.
Sirens blare in time with flashing red lights.
Sparks fly off a pristine white console, leaving it black, with dark tendrils of smoke rising. I know how precious oxygen is in space, will some small fire kill us all?
A shout fills my ears in the other direction, making me whip my head ahead as I see another console spark and sputter.
The bridge is clearly in far worse shape than medbay. No wonder Jim came in with a hurt rib.
Spock stands in front of the Captain’s chair, arms clasped behind his back at the wrists as he stands rigid.
I follow Jim as he sidles up beside Spock, cursing the plight of being barely 5 feet tall, and not able to see what they’re seeing. What everyone elseis seeing.
It’s not Dr. Rathmore, but a man dressed all in black sitting in a captain’s chair of his own, with a short buzz cut and his dark eyes dancing over me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Finally,” he says dramatically. “Captain if you don’t mind…” He sneers, “let’s talk more privately.”
Jim nods once before turning and heading to a door off to the side of the bridge. “Ready room,” he says to Spock and Bones.
“Just you and Calliope, Captain.” The man commands forcefully.
Bones turns and eyes the man with disgust. “Your attack just dislocated this child’s shoulder. I’m coming along to wrap it.” He says with finality, moving towards the ready room.
Spock nods to Jim once and settles in the captain’s chair.
I follow Jim and Bones into the ready room, where the man is now on a holoscreen in there.
“You can call me Leland,” he says with an air of boredom. “However it’s not me who is going to explain what’s going to happen here,” he turns in his seat to call out, “doc?”
Another man appears, and this time, it is my mom’s doctor.
But Jim shocks me when he whispers, “Vos.”
I look at him with confusion, “what? No, that’s mom’s doctor that Bones says doesn’t exist. Dr. Rathmore.”
Something passes over Jim’s face. Something I’ve never seen before. Something haunted.
“Allow me to reintroduce myself, Calliope. Your brother knows me more… intimately than you do. Dr. Rex Vos.”
I raise an eyebrow, “is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“He’s a eugenicist,” Jim says lowly, dangerously.
“And how do you know him?” I ask quietly.
“That’s a story for another day,” Rath- Vos, announces. “Calliope. We require your presence.”
‘We require another blood sample.’ Flashes through my head.
I shake my head in fear, “why?”
He sighs, “this may be difficult to hear, but your mother wasn’t who you thought she was.”
“…excuse me?” Jim and I say in unison.
“She knew about her xenopolycythemia for a long time. In fact… that’s why she began having children. You see, your mother was a wonderful scientist, wonderful to work with-”
“My mother was an engineer,” Jim cuts in.
‘My mother.’
“Don’t you recall the funeral, James?”
I see Jim try not to squirm. Even I know he hates being called James.
“Your mother worked in intelligence. She also worked… let’s say undercover, in our sciences division. She developed a cure. A cure by altering the genetic makeup of the embryos she and your father created. A cure by… altering you. All of you. But only the female embryo was successfully altered.” He cocks his head like he’s studying me. “I was there, I helped with the process, it was fascinating,” he’s on a roll. “She introduced the disease, then we physically altered the cells to fight it off!”
“You actually developed a cure…” Bones breathes.
“In theory. Obviously it didn’t work on Winona, but Calliope will never get the disease because of us,” Vos all but brags. “But we’d like to find out why it didn’t work as a cure.”
“No.” Jim immediately counters, before Bones adds, “you’ve taken enough from her.”
Vos looks behind himself and folds his hands ominously. “You’ve already had a demonstration of our weapons. We won’t stop until you hand her over.”
“Why is this so important to you?” Jim squints. “What about her has you so obsessed?”
“Because it didn’t work !” He roars so suddenly that I take a step back. “ My work didn’t work! Mine! And I must know why.”
“Why didn’t she just give herself the ability to fight the disease?” I ask, instinctually trying to calm the raging adult in front of me.
He rolls his eyes, “you don’t think she tried? It didn’t work when not done on an embryonic level. The cure has to be literally bred into the host,” the host? “Eugenics at work!” He smiles, before he looks at Jim, “we’ll give her back if you hand her over willingly.”
“Yeah, in what condition?” Jim moves to stand in front of me. “Not a chance.”
“Please don’t make us take her by force,” he sounds bored. “That won’t turn out well for anyone.”
“Funny for such a small ship to have such big guns. Who are you working with?” Jim narrows his eyes, “this time?”
This time? What-
“A small faction… nothing you need concern yourself with.” There’s a beeping behind him and he turns to talk to someone. “I see you’ve called for reinforcements,” he says with an air of annoyance. “This isn’t over. She will be ours. And if we have to take her, we won’t be giving her back. At least not in any condition you want.”
He looks me dead in the eyes. “You were useless to save your mother, but you have the opportunity to save everyone on that ship. The next time we meet might not end well for the crew. You’ve walked the halls- how many people have you hurt by refusing to surrender yourself?”
He’s right. It’s my fault people are going to be hurt. It’s my fault Jim is hurt.
“How did you escape?” Jim asks lowly. “How did you get out?”
More beeping comes more urgently from behind the doctor. “Oh, JT, always so naive…”
Jim steps forward, “Did you know who I was? Did you know what she tried to do to me?”
“We spent quite a lot of time together, JT,” Vos says slowly. “Why do you think you were so easy to give allergies to? Your genetics had… abnormalities from the process.”
I am so lost and no one is explaining anything. “You’re really telling me that our mom used us to make herself a cure, then it didn’t work?”
He nods once.
My temper flares, thinking of all the blood draws I suffered while this man watched from the doorway. “You were never testing cures on my blood, you were trying to make a cure with it!”
He smiles again, slimy and almost… proud. “Exactly.” Then he snorts, “an augmented person has to be good for something .”
My entire body goes hot then cold. Did he just call me-
“She is not an augment,” Bones steps forward. “We just finished her physical, and-”
“Doctor, I have no interest in explaining myself to you. I thought as a pathologist you might see things our way but… pity.”
Bones turns redder than he already was.
“I’m an augment ?” I breathe.
An alarm blares from behind Vos and he sighs. “Time to go.”
“But-” I try, but the feed cuts out and I can only assume they’ve gone.
My lip immediately starts to quiver, an augment? I’m an augment ? Those are illegal! They lock them up! “I’m an augment?” I all but wail, looking at Bones for some explanation. I start to shake all over, and I look at Jim, “he said it didn’t work on you, so you aren’t one, right? Only me?”
“Callie,”
“And- and- you know him?” I ask, tears starting to leak out my eyes. “He… He was your doctor or something too?”
“Not… exactly…”
“Then exactly what , Jim? Because someone just tried to kidnap me!” I snap.
Jim looks green, like he’s struggling to keep his breakfast down as he tries to find an answer for me. “I… I know him from… From a massacre… There were eugenics involved, I was there… I… Ugh…” He rubs his eyes.
“So it was a mission?” I ask, trying to make sense of it. My breaths are coming in ragged as I try to make sense of it all. “So- so- so mom had him help her try and augment us all, it only worked on me, but it still didn’t work to cure her, and you also know this guy from some previous mission?”
None of this is making sense.
I gasp in more air, looking at Jim as he also struggles to breathe normally. He’s freaking out too, I realize. “Jim, who is that guy?!”
Tears stream down my face as I ignore whatever Jim is saying, “oh my god, and they’re going to keep coming back until they get me?” I’m starting to spiral. “They’re going to keep hurting people? Oh my god, they’re going to make you give me up!” I gasp more air in but it’s like it’s carbon dioxide instead of oxygen. “Starfleet can’t possibly expect you to choose me over all these people! They’re going to take me! They’re going to take me, and hurt me, and- and- and-”
Jim shakes his head, trying to reach for me, but I find myself stumbling back, away from him, shaking my head, until my back hits the wall.
I slide down and hug my knees, ignoring my searing shoulder pain, sobs coming out of me.
I haven’t cried since my mom died.
And I’m not even crying for her, which makes me feel awful. I’m crying for myself like the selfish child I am. The selfish kid who doesn’t want to give herself up to save 1,000 people.
Jim and Bones are both trying to talk to me, but I’m too far gone into panic to hear.
Len got a look from Jim, a haunted and far away look, and he knew Jim was down for the count.
He could read the look to mean Jim could wait 10 minutes to fully melt down while they handled Callie’s.
He looked at her, curled into a ball, sobbing her heart out.
He kneels in front of her, hands hovering but not touching, “Callie-”
“You needed to let them have me! To save everyone! He’s just going to come back! He’s right and this is all my fault!” Her voice was shaking and bordering on a wail.
“No,” he shook his head earnestly, “darlin’, no no no, it’s not-”
“ YES. IT. IS !” Her breathing was bordering on out of control and he pulled his tricorder off his belt. She didn’t even notice him scan. “I’m a burden and a danger!” She whimpered, before she started repeating it over and over and over.
She was spiraling. She instantly went from babbling to straight up gasping for air. “Callie, you’ve got to calm down for me, sweetheart.”
“I can’t let him take me. But I’m endangering the whole ship! If I could just give myself up or… or die , things would be so much easier. But I just can’t let him have me… He can’t have me!”
“I know, sugar, I know,”
She looked like she didn’t realize she said that out loud.
“We aren’t gonna let anyone hurt you, let anyone take you!”
She was shaking her head as she sobbed, “he’s going to hurt me! He’s going to hurt me all over again! He’s going to take my blood and it’s going to ache and hurt…” she hiccuped a few times. “Who knows what else they want to do to an augment !”
Len glanced up at Jim, by then red in the face and struggling to keep his breathing under control.
Jesus Christ, how was he going to handle them both?
“I have no idea what they’re talking about with… eugenics ? They’ll kill me! Please don’t make me go! Please! Please don’t make me go,” she sobbed, fully hyperventilating.
“Honey, we’re not lettin’ anyone take you! Listen to my voice, I'm right here with you. You’re safe. Just take some deep breaths. It’s all going to be ok…”
“It’s not g-g-going to be ok!”
“Callie, Callie, darlin’, you gotta listen to me. You are safe . I need you to breathe with me,” he reached out and put a hand over hers on her knee.
It was meant to be comforting but she screamed and jumped so high that she smacked her tailbone hard against the floor.
“Callie…” he grumbled, which seemed to send her into a tailspin, thinking he was mad at her.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry! Please don’t hit me, I’m sorry…”
So much was bubbling up.
Far too much, and she was beginning to seriously hyperventilate.
Man, he knew her anxiety was bad but not this bad. He had to get her calmed down. “Baby girl, I’d never hit you, I’m not gonna hurt you, but I’ve got to get you to calm down,” he explained before grabbing her arms and hauling her into his own.
He threw his back against the wall, hauling her with him, pinning her arms to her sides and holding her tight, trying to avoid jostling her bad shoulder he hadn’t had the chance to wrap, once everything had gone to pot.
He’d never have grabbed her had she not been going blue at the lips. He had her in his arms, but sitting next to him on the floor. “Breathe with me, Cal. Breathe with me, ok? Here we go,” he took a deep, deep breath, pulling her up in his arms before pushing her down with the breath out.
“I don’t want to!” She wailed.
“You’re gonna pass out!”
“Just let me…” she sobbed.
“No, no, sweetheart, I’m not gonna do that,”
“Just let me die …”
There was no way she was coming down without chemical intervention.
Smart enough to bring drugs, he swiftly deposited one into her neck.
She barely noticed, hiccuping a couple times, taking in desperately needed air, as she started to slump against the good doctor.
Her eyelids looked heavy and drowsy .
“It’s alright, darlin. Don’t fight it,” he muttered, warm and heavy in her ear. “Just let go for me now…”
She went boneless.
So then.
It was Jim’s turn.
Len laid Callie gently down on the floor, reluctant to let her head just flop on the floor but he knew he was going to have to bodily handle Jim onto the couch already and there just wasn’t enough room for them both. Her neck and shoulder would survive.
He turned to Jim and thought about the first time he’d realized his strange little flinches meant he was afraid of gettin’ hit.
It had been about a month of being roommates when Bones blew up on him one night, with one of his typical concerned rants over the kid’s schedule.
When he reached out to lay a hand on the kid’s shoulder, Jim had nearly ducked at the touch, staying in a cowering position for just a split second longer than necessary.
Then it clicked.
Then he put together the careful shuffling to avoid touch.
The wide eyed fearful split second glances when Len got really worked up over something.
And it made him sick to his stomach that it took him that long to realize.
He came back to the present and slowly walked over to Jim, hands out, like he was a wounded animal not to be spooked. “Hey kid, just you ‘n me here, a’rigt?”
Jim didn’t respond, one white knuckle shakily supporting his weight on the conference table.
Len watched for a moment, knowing he was about to falter any second.
And when he did, he was there to place a hand under his arm and throw his other arm across his chest, pull him into his own, before depositing him on the couch.
Len knelt down in front of him, reminiscent of the night Jim told him his mom died, and took his hands into his. “Jim? Kid? We’ve gotta get you grounded, your breathin’ is all outta whack,” he pumped his hands gently, trying to bring him back to present. Although the present wasn’t that great of a place at that moment.
Jim shook his head violently suddenly, trying to rip his hands from Bones’.
Bones didn’t allow it. “Jim, come on, stay with me, I need you to breathe with me. We’ve done this a thousand times, right, kid? You know the drill, come on, take a deep breath for me,” he pleaded, looking into Jim’s eyes, somewhere far away.
He knew where.
“ Jim ,” he said firmly. “You’re having an anxiety attack, we need-”
And then Jim threw up. All over the floor next to Len.
Oh boy.
Jim instantly started sobbing. Uncontrollable, thank god the ready room is soundproof, sobbing .
His hands flew into his hair, yanking for some sort of purchase, something to latch on to and pull, just to feel something other than the agony is his chest.
“Hey-hey-hey, Jim, no-no-no, c’mon now, stop that,” Len tried to soothe as he attempted to loosen Jim’s grip. “Cmon, darlin’, I need you to hear me,” he said a bit louder, the endearments continuing to slip as they always did with scared patients. “Jim, please listen to me. I do not want to sedate another Kirk today.”
That got Jim’s attention. His blue eyes flashed up, full of rage and terror, “no drugs! No!” He tried to push past Bones and ran for the door.
“Computer, lock door under CMO command.”
Locking . Door now locked .
“DANG IT, BONES!” Jim yelled at the ceiling with fists banging at his sides.
“Jim I’m not gonna drug ya, but I’m not lettin’ you outta here until you calm down! It’s gonna be alright, kid. We know a lot more now about what’s going on, now. And good thing is, it’s in my area of expertise.”
Jim panted, shoulders heaving with flight mode very active.
“Jim, you know full well I don’t sedate you unless it’s absolutely necessary. You don’t need to run from me, kid. I wish you’d remember that after all these years.” He kept his entire demeanor and voice calm and level, in complete contrast with Jim’s near total lack of emotional control.
“Bones, what am I going to do ?” Jim sobbed into his hands, dropping back on the couch. “I’m so out of my depth here! She was having a panic attack, and I was too busy fighting off my own to help!”
Len sighed. “Jim, you know I’m here for you. I’m here for you both . I can’t claim to have fully raised a child, but I’ve spent enough time around kids and you to know how to help in these situations. No one ever said you were alone in this, kid. I’m in this with you.”
Jim nodded and gulped a few times, energy draining as the panic and adrenaline left. “Bones…”
Len grabbed one hand and held it tight. “I know, kid. I know. And I’ve got you. I’ve got you both.”
Bones had to call Christine and M’Benga for quick but discreet help with the two Kirk siblings.
M’Benga easily lifted Callie’s dead weight straight from the floor while Christine threw one of Jim’s arms over her shoulders while Len took the other side.
Thankfully, there was a private turbolift in the ready room that Len wondered if Pike had installed during the post-Nero refit for this exact reason.
With Callie tucked away and sedated, Len could give Jim his full attention for the time being.
Christine didn’t need to be told to take him to a secluded bay and engage the privacy bubble as she silently left.
Len placed an ice pack behind Jim’s neck after he got him horizontal.
Jim’s eyes were hazy and focused somewhere far away, cloudy with haunting memories.
Haunted. That’s exactly how he looked.
First went in an antiemetic. “Anti-nausea,” he muttered as he administered it. Jim was fine with letting him do what was needed, as long as he communicated with him along the way.
He brushed the bangs back off Jim’s forehead- he was due for his typical crew cut but had had… other things on his mind as of late. They were sweaty and stuck, making Len need to comb a few times to clear the strands away. “Talk to me, kid. I know where you’re at. But talk to me, please.”
Jim shook his head, eyes locked on the ceiling. “She’s gonna find out. She’s going to find out about… About…”
“Jim-”
“How many more people am I going to lose to that monster? And I know how many I already have, Bones. He helped decide who went on each list. I know exactly how many kids he killed. I know exactly how many before and after the massacre. I remember each face, each name, and each grave! Because I dug each one! I insisted on it. The other boys would help but I always made sure it was me who did the most. I made sure it was me who laid them to rest. Because it was me who got them killed just like it’s me who’s going to get Callie killed!”
“Jim, kid, listen to me. You’re the one keepin’ her safe , okay? You’re the one who got her out of Iowa. You’re the one who kept her away from Frank. You’re takin’ such good care if her. But you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.
Jim shook his head as tears streamed freely down his face. “I-I don’t know if I can do this,”
“What’s that?”
“Take care of her. Do a good job. Be understanding. Be there for her. All things I can’t do when I’m having a fricking panic attack!”
“You have your demons just like anyone else. But you’re perfectly capable and are the perfect person for her right now.”
“Shyeah? Until she hears about this massive secret everyone kept from her.” Jim hiccupped when he tried to scoff. “How am I going to explain? Answer her questions about how I know him?”
Len sighed and sat at his hip. “Then you will answer them. And it will be okay. Or. You can be honest and say you don’t feel comfortable. Boundaries are good. You guys are gonna have to set them eventually.”
“Put the therapy talk away.”
“You’re in my medbay, I’ll remind you.”
Jim scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Jim, this crew is starting to feel like a family. Maybe trust that. Maybe lean into it. Maybe let some other people, like Nyota and Christine step in and help- check on her, talk to her, give her the friggin’ hugs I’m sure she never got! Let this family be hers, too. It doesn’t have to be just you.”
“But answering her questions about Tarsus is going to be just me.” He whispered. “Who else is he going to tell before all this is over?”
“He could have talked about it in front of the entire bridge crew, but didn’t. That has to mean something.”
Jim nodded, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Something for a headache, please?”
Bones obliged, saying, “Obviously they’re very secretive. And maybe that’ll work in your favor.”
“Not with Callie…” Jim sighed.
“Not with Callie.” Bones agreed. “But she’s your sister , Jim. She loves you. I’m sure she’d want to know.”
“Lots of people want to know who the 9 are, Bones.”
“She’s not asking who the 9 are. She’s asking how you know Vos.” He paused. “How do you know him, kid? What happened in that place?”
Jim shook his head, “not now, Bones. I can’t,” he whispered.
Bones nodded, seeing his eyelids getting heavy.
“Sleep a bit kid, I’m going to go check on your sister. I didn’t give her much Improvoline and I don’t want her wakin’ up with just M’Benga.”
“Go,” Jim nodded. “I’ll be okay.”
My head hurts. Must be because my pillow is messed up.
Wait.
This isn’t my pillow… Where am I? Why did I leave the lights on?
I fully open my eyes and realize that all I know is that I’m not home.
Why wouldn’t I be at home?
Why are these lights so… sterile ? There’s a… blurry bubble around me?
I’m in a hospital.
Omg I’m in a hospital ?
Why?
What happened?
I jolt up and I realize I’m the one in a hospital bed.
Why?
Am I with my mom?
No. No she's… dead.
She died and… and…
Jim!
I’m with Jim!
But why am I here ?
I try to sit up, and it doesn’t go well.
I try to swing my legs off the bed, and that goes even worse.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Bones is suddenly there to catch me. “I get an alert your heart is poundin’ and of course you’re trying to throw yourself outta your bed…” he hauls me back up like I weigh nothing, despite my bonelessness.
He props the bed up, “the heck di’you gimme?” I somewhat slur.
He snorts, looking down at his padd, “that would be Improvoline. It’s nice stuff.”
“I don’t remember much…”
“That’s not from that,” he types away, “the grogginess prob’ly isn’t either, you're gonna feel more hungover from that panic attack than the drugs.”
I blink.
What.
Panic-
“Oh.”
Oh god.
Oh god no .
Then it alllll floods back.
I made an idiot of myself. A blubbering, screaming, crying idiot.
Oh my god he had to hold me.
Jim was there. Jim wasn’t the one holding me. Jim must have been freaked out by my dramatics. Oh crap. This is bad. Bad bad bad.
I’ve worked on hiding panic attacks so well that I can hold them off until I can be alone and actually ride it out.
I don’t know what other response he wants from me. I don’t know what I can say to get in the least amount of trouble for being a drama queen and not doing what I was told.
Apologize!
“Look, I’m really sorry,” I say in a rush. “I had a really immature meltdown-”
“You had an anxiety attack which is perfectly understandable…” Bones cuts in gently but firmly.
My eyes fly to his with confusion etched on my face.
“Did… Did you think you were gonna be in trouble here?” Bones stammers.
I look from side to side. “Well… yeah?”
He sighs sadly and hesitantly moves to sit on the edge of my bed.
I move my legs minutely to avoid any touch.
I’m sure he notices.
But he says nothing about it.
“I can’t say I’m not worried about you after that,” Bones admits.
I run a hand through my hair frustratedly, “I’ve gotten so good at hiding anything like that, I never ever have reactions like that,” ‘at least not in front of people,’ I add silently. “So it’s not like, anything anyone needs to worry about-”
“Cal-”
“-I’m fine , I can control it-”
“Sweet-"
“The whole thing just took me off guard,” I all but beg.
“Well, we’re gonna start with the whole ‘I’m so great at hiding anything like that’, mess.”
I cock my head.
“Anxiety is nothing you need to hide, especially not in a situation like this, it’s understandable.”
I huff and roll my eyes. “I don’t care. I can control myself. It’s fine. My head hurts.”
“I can get you something for that. But I need you to be honest with me and tell me how the anxiety feels now.”
I physically cringe at the word. A little too visibly, apparently.
“ What is that response?”
I wave a hand, “anxiety isn’t an issue for me.”
I see him stare at me. A long, calculating, thinking stare.
He takes in a slow breath. “Okay,” he says simply, tapping away at his padd. “Does your mouth feel dry? Eyes?”
…What? He’s not going to keep pushing? I know I have anxiety. I know he knows I have anxiety. He has to know that I know that he knows. And he’s going to drop it? He’s not even going to keep going on about how it’s understandable?
Off guard, I somewhat stammer, “…b-both.”
“Pain anywhere else? Your neck?”
“Well, yeah, my head hurts.” I say confused, because it’s the same thing?
He looks up at me. “Are you saying that your neck always hurts when you get a headache?”
I stare at him. “That’s how headaches work ?”
He stares back, “that is not how headaches work!”
“Why not?”
“Because that means there’s more going on than “just” headaches!”
I roll my eyes. “Look, I’m fine. You had enough of your physical before, you asked more questions now, I’m all good, ankle’s fine-”
He puts a hand out to stop me. “Technically I’m the one here who gets to decide when you’re ‘fine’, miss ma’am. And you’re also forgetting your dislocated shoulder,” he nods to it, and I glance down. My arm is in a sling and I notice a tingling sensation similar to the one I’d had on my ankle prickles under my skin.
“God, how long have I been asleep?”
“About 12 hours,” he says casually, throwing another blanket over me.
I flounder a bit, trying to remember what time it was when I… got knocked out. “You’re saying it’s after 3am?!”
He nods, straightening the blanket over the bed.
“ What are you doing?”
“…Letting you go back to sleep?”
I find a breathy, incredulous, nearly hysterical laugh falling from my lips. “Why do I need to stay here?”
He stops moving. “I mean… you don’t , but… There are some genetic questions we’ve gotta get answered.”
I bristle. “And how are “we” going to do that?”
He holds out a hand again, “I'm not draining your blood like those dirtside idiots,” he shakes his head.
But all I know is that I’m in a medical setting with someone who wants to look at my blood. Someone whose been nice so far but someone I’m not sure I can trust. I’ve got to get out of here. At least talk to Jim, maybe he can hide me somewhere on earth, at least he can stop them from experimenting on me or locking me up.
“Look, I'm going to go get you painkillers and I’ll be right back, okay?”
I nod, warily watching every inch he moves as he leaves.
There’s no telling what they will do to me if I’m on painkillers. He could use it as an excuse to do a bunch of blood work, despite what he said. I can’t see out of this privacy bubble anything more than shadows, and it’s night so of course the lights have been brought low and everything is in shadow.
But I'm not staying here.
I’ll leave. I can send a message that I decided my head didn’t hurt and I wanted to sleep in my own bed.
When I get back, our quarters are all empty and I remember when Christine taught me about finding my way, she had also told me you can ask the computer to help you find people .
“Computer?”
Acknowledged.
I jump. “Uhm, can you please tell me where the captain is? Captain Kirk?”
Captain Kirk’s current location is restricted.
What?
“What?!”
Captain Kirk’s current location may only be given to Commander Spock, or Lieutenant Commander McCoy.
“Well… where are they?”
Commander Spock is in his quarters and is currently off duty, with an active do not disturb request. Dr. McCoy is in corridor C-1.
C-1 - that’s- that’s outside the door .
The doors whoosh open and Jim strides in, Bones in tow.
I jump and stammer, “Jim- I- I’m-” and then he’s in front of me, but suddenly pauses as Bones flops onto the couch.
“I don’t want to freak you out or scare you, but I’m going to hug you now, kay?” Jim says.
“You- what?”
He’s got me gently in his arms before it feels more like he’s hanging on for dear life.
I stiffly hug him back, but don’t move a muscle even as he rocks side to side a couple of times.
“Have you been stuck on the bridge this whole time?” I ask, worriedly.
Jim seems to falter a bit at that, “wha- no- I- I was taking care of different things.”
“The computer told me I wasn’t allowed to know where you were…” I grumble.
He winces, “we’ll… see about fixing that.”
I sink into the armchair, “is there really a need?”
Jim’s brows furrow. “Wh-why wouldn’t there be?”
“Be…cause I obviously can’t stay here…?” I say slowly, waiting for a nod of agreement that doesn’t come. “I mean, I can’t live here if someone is going to attack your ship to try and take me, s-so I thought I could take what I have in mom's savings and maybe get a small apartment? Riverside or… I don’t even care where, but I can just go somewhere and hide.”
“Callie, no,” Jim counters, shaking his head.
“I can’t put everyone here in danger! Jim, you don’t need this drama, you’re still a new captain, I can’t-”
“Did you ever stop to think maybe I want this? Maybe I want you here? Maybe I tried to get you out to San Francisco every summer because I wanted you. Because I still want you.”
My eyes burn in a way that fills me with fury. I will not cry. Not again. “But there’s no way you want all this trouble ,” my voice wavers on the last word.
Then he’s kneeling in front of me.
He’s… taking my hands.
“Calliope Georgia Kirk. I need you to listen to me, can you please listen very carefully?”
I nod, failing to resist the urge to gulp.
My mom would have heard it, and instantly dropped my hands saying I was so dramatic.
But he doesn’t even blink. His eyes don’t leave mine, he just keeps squeezing my hands. “You. Are not. Trouble . You are not a burden or in anyone’s way. You are not a price to pay. You are wanted .”
“In more ways than one…” I say, watery.
“Cal,”
“What even happens now? If you don’t get rid of me, what? We just… run and hide? I’m a flipping augment !”
“I can tell you you aren’t an augment from your immune system alone, kid,” Bones finally jumps in. “You wouldn’t be strugglin’ against the vaccines so much if you were genetically altered in the ways that are illegal.”
Jim and I stop and look at him simultaneously, “there are ways that aren’t illegal?”
Jim drops my hands and raises up, “of course…” he breathes, looking contemplative.
“The laws against augmentations,” Bones explains to me, “follow specific guidelines. Some things aren’t illegal, like, correcting cleft palate in utero. But something like Ilosian healing is a big no.”
“So I’m half augment?” I challenge.
Jim turns back to me, “if you’re half then I’m at least a quarter,” he shrugs, trying to be funny.
I scoff, “so what’s the criteria for jail? 26%?” I’m being a brat and pushing my luck and I don’t know why when they’ve both been nothing but nice to me. “Or is that the required percentage for kidnapping?! And-and what else? Experimentation? And Jesus, who even was our mother?!”
Jim sits on the couch and I turn to face him. “I have the same question,” he says wearily.
“Well… Who’s Rathmore after all?” I ask. “And when did you meet him? What did he do to you?”
“What did he do to you?” She asked.
Bones glanced over at Jim worriedly, but only for a moment. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle that question.
Jim searched for words, eyes trained on the ground, clouding over.
He mentally cursed. He was not coping well. If they weren’t careful, the Tarsus trauma could easily overwhelm him, and this wasn’t a time that could happen.
Jim was a very compartmentalized person, carefully tucking away certain traumas into neat little boxes. All to be ignored, of course. But methodically organized.
Except for two issues. The two biggest.
Tarsus and Frank.
One of Jim’s first signs things weren’t going well was if he stopped eating. Even just slowed down or deviated from his careful schedule or menu, it wasn’t a sign of anything great.
The 10 year anniversary had been awful— and he hadn’t even known why at the time.
All he knew was that his already regularly picky eating roommate had stopped eating all together and was having nightmares every night, leaving him drenched in sweat.
He was worried after Jim didn’t come home one night. When sundown the next day came with still no word, he finally began to type a message to Pike, Jim’s academic (and unofficial personal) advisor.
But Pike messaged him first.
“Lt. McCoy,” he tried not to cringe, he hated the honorary title that came from being a doctor. “Please be advised Cadet Kirk has been in my company since last evening and will be tonight as well. Please comm when you are available.”
And the man's personal comm number was there.
That meant something.
He called 30 seconds after the message came through.
Pike didn’t even greet him, “you read fast.” It sounded like he was propping his feet up.
Len cocked his head to the side, “yes sir, need to when you’re reading charts all day,” he said congenially. “I’m just doing as ordered and reporting in.”
He was pretty sure he heard a scoff. “Stand down, McCoy. This is personal, we are not speaking on duty at the moment.”
Another head cock that wouldn’t be seen. “Yes s…” he cut off the ‘sir’.
He was positive he heard Pike smile. “Good,” the older man said. “The message was official so that the call hadn’t need be,” he said. “Jim is with me, working on a project that is separate from the big thing going on on-campus right now.”
“Oh,” Len said thoughtfully. “The Tarsus memorials?”
“Yes, all that. Jim is already an expert on it and I have projects he can do this week instead that will help with the 3 year idiotic plan- that you also agreed to, by the way. And how’s that going?”
“Fine, sir,” he shook his head. “I…” he trailed off, unsure of his place.
“My own advisor used to say “speak now, because tomorrow is too late”,” Pike prompted.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
There was a poignant pause and he really wondered if he stepped too far.
“Jim is a very private person,” Pike began.
“I’ve noticed,” Len couldn’t help but quip. Almost as if to break the tension.
“There may be times he seems odd, off, or distant. And if that happens, keep your distance, but be supportive, and call me , do you understand?”
“…is that an order?”
“Consider it a personal favor.”
“Whatever is best for Jim, I will do.”
Another pause. “You’re a good friend to him. I’ll update you if need be, but I suspect he’s a bit homesick and you’ll see him tomorrow.”
“So he’s also off for the week?”
“Like everyone else,” Pike said.
“So should I make myself scarce?”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
Len was taken aback. “Sir?”
“He doesn’t just make friends. Not real ones.” Len already knew that. Jim didn’t readily seek out deep, meaningful friendships. Or even true ones at all, at times. He thought about all the times he had plopped down in front of him at lunch because the kid was sitting alone in a corner, and he had been raised better than to allow that.
But he also kept his distance, letting Jim seek him out. They were already roommates, he didn’t want to make him sick of his company.
And slowly Jim did start reciprocating.
He showed up with a coffee after his shift at the hospital during the winter, “I was close by and figured your southern self is going to be cold and whiny when you get back unless you have this.”
“And your Midwestern rear is used to far more than this mess,” but he did accept the coffee.
A shrug. “True. We really don’t even wear coats until it’s like, actually cold. This is just for show,” he waved his coat around through the pocket.
“And what do you consider ‘actually cold’, weirdo?”
“I dunno like, 10 degrees?”
“You’re nuts.”
“You’re delicate.”
“I could break every single bone in your body…” he grumbled.
And Jim froze.
And he knew he had screwed up.
Jim tried to snort a laugh, stop the stutter in his step, but his falter was obvious.
Too obvious to go unrecognized.
“You good?”
“Yeah, yeah just… tired today. Lot of classes.”
“Classes you could sleep through.” He snorted.
“Not wrong…”
“So why don’t you ask to test out?”
“A couple would allow it. I’m told Professor Spock would never. He’s designing some super test and doesn’t feel like deviating from his teaching plan. So it’s like. Why start rumors I nepo-babied out of class?”
“Uh, to sleep ? Or do those god awful flight sims.”
An eye roll. “Meh.”
“He is homesick ,” Pike continued speaking firmly. “You are part of the home now. Sit your butt down and ride this week out with him, if you truly want to help.”
He decided to full throttle his luck. “What is it about this week?”
“That is a Jim story for him to tell.”
“…alright. I have studying to do anyway.”
“Oh please. You could teach every medical class here.”
“Extracurriculars.”
“Bull.”
“Hey, like you said, I’ve got a three-year plan, too. Plus, I’m working on my second PhD. And working. But I’ll keep the kid company, sure.” Before Pike could cut the line, he got in another question- “are you sure there isn’t anything else I need to know? Especially from a medical perspective?”
There was a pause so long that he thought maybe he hadn’t gotten the question in before Pike ended the call, after all.
“He’s not going to eat much. Don’t worry about it unless he completely stops.”
“All do respect, sir, he’s already not been eatin’ much and I’m already worried.”
“Then you know how far the body can push itself when stressed. Stress him out by pushing food, and he will stop eating completely for an extended period of time.”
That gave the doctor quite a bit of pause, but he accepted the answer from the man that clearly knew his roommate better than he did.
So when he found out about Tarsus by the next anniversary, he was more than ready to help. But he learned very quickly what triggers Jim had surrounding it.
So he knew seeing the doctor that had experimented on him in Kodos’ Palace wasn’t going to do anything good for him. Let alone Callie flat out asking how he knew Vos and what he had done to him.
Jim hesitated, “it was a trip to a colony gone wrong,” he said slowly. “I was captured and… experimented on.”
“By him?” She pushed.
Jim nodded.
“Jesus, Jim,” she breathed. “That happened in the past year since you took command? And he knew who you were beforehand?”
Jim conveniently ignored the first question and only answered the second, “yeah, I guess so. I think it was a coincidence we were both on the planet but…”
She let out a shaky breath, “so he helped mom try to alter our genes to create a cure… experimented on you when given the chance, but he only cares about me now? It’s all too coincidental, none of this makes sense!”
“No, it doesn’t,” Bones agreed, shooting a look at Jim who looked lost. “What does make sense is a genius eugenicist bouncing around from challenge to challenge. And it sounds like trying to cure your mom was his latest one. Maybe once I take a look, I can figure something out. In the meantime, I think we should all get to bed, given the hour.” He tried to save Jim, give him more time to figure out how to explain his past with Vos.
He pulled out a cup of pills, “I brought you painkillers,” he said to Callie before shaking the cup slightly. The painkillers she ran off without. That part, he stayed mum on. “In pill form so we don’t have to deal with any bruises,” he set the cup gently down on the side table. “I’ll leave them here, all I ask is you please let me know if you take them? Just send me a message, okay?”
She nodded, eyes trained curiously on the cup.
It saddened him deeply how mistrusting she was. He wanted nothing more than to change that.
He turned to Jim, “I am going to literally see you to bed before I leave these quarters, got it?”
He felt more so than saw Callie stiffen. She didn’t like being told what to do, but she didn’t like others being told what to do, either. Almost like there was a protective streak weaving stubbornly with her stubborn one.
Just like her brother.
I find a message from Christine with instructions on how to take care of my shoulder. The notes say to leave it in the sling for the next 24 hours, but after sweating through a panic attack, I don’t care, it’s coming off because I need a shower.
That’s a side of panic attacks that no one ever talks about- the waves of hot flashes that cause torrential sweating.
I take my time, and it’s an hour before I’m finally clean and dressed in warm pajamas, my hair damp and loose around my shoulders.
I pull my long sleeves over my hands and try to ignore the lingering twinge of pain in my shoulder, but the painkillers and numbing from earlier have long worn off.
I know there are pain pills in the living room, just waiting for me. And Bones has to be gone by now, right?
I listen at the door for a moment, for movement, but hear nothing, so I slip out.
The pills are still on the table, so I scoop the cup up and wander to the kitchen. I set the cup down and begin to examine the pills, trying to figure out what exactly they are.
I’m thinking about taking the pills back to my room and searching a database for their description, when I hear movement.
I look up at the front door, but no one is there and no one is ringing the bell, either.
I look the other way, down the hall, looking for Jim.
Instead, I see Bones. He’s dressed differently than he was, like he left and came back at some point. He has on the same style of Academy T-Shirt that I’ve seen Jim wear, and sweatpants.
The man is even barefoot.
“Hiii…” I draw out, looking confused.
His face is scrunched in confusion, “child, you don’t have a consistent sleep schedule no matter what you try to tell me.” He crosses his arm. “Did you sleep at all?”
I point at my wet hair, “nope. Showered.”
I see something register on his face before his brain fully clocks it. But I already know what I’m about to be in trouble for. “What happened to your sling?”
I look down at my bad shoulder slowly. “What do you mean?” I ask innocently.
“Please do not tell me you took off your sling just to shower,” he squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Please do not tell me you decided that showering while injured at 3am was a fine and dandy idea?”
I give a one shouldered shrug, “well… I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh, that’s why you’re examining those painkillers so closely at 0400, right? Cuz you’re fine?”
I glower. “I wanted to know what they were, okay? I was about to go look it up. Forgive me for not just taking random crap I’m given!” I’m tired. I’m in pain. I’m scared. I’m grieving. And that outburst is therefore out of character, but justifiably so.
He softens instantly, “oh, yeah, of course. You could have asked. It’s a mouthful of a name, that’s the only reason I usually don’t say it. Abrapex Zithronafine. You can look it up. It’s an anti-inflammatory with a strong painkiller compounded in.”
I cock my head and examine the pills again. “Oh. Mmkay,” and go to take them to my room.
“Way-way-wait,” he holds out two hands, but does step back so he’s not blocking my door. “So are you taking those now? What hurts?”
I sigh and continue into my room, leaving the door open and waving a hand for him to follow.
He stands in the doorway and I go over to my nightstand and drink some water to take the pills.
“Yes,” I answer needlessly, “because I am in pain.”
“Okay, but where ?”
“Are you sleeping in Jim’s room?”
He opens and closes his mouth like a fish a few times before saying, “he needed someone to monitor him tonight. I lived with his clingy butt for almost 3 years so I don’t care at this point.”
He raises an eyebrow and I climb under my covers in bed after swallowing the meds, not caring that there’s a guy in my doorway as I do so. I’m in too much pain and I’m too tired.
“It’s your shoulder that hurts, isn’t it?”
“Shoulder, head, pick one…”
He sighs and motions to my shoulder, “you really shoulda left that in the sling.”
“I was sweaty.”
“Ever heard of a sonic shower?”
My eyebrows raise, “that’s the setting that makes my shower shake!” It occurs to me. “I think it’s broken.”
“No, that’s right, it’s basically a waterless shower.”
I cock my head, before trying to lay down, “I dunno ‘bout that.”
He snorts. “Those pills should help you sleep. Don’t be surprised if you wake up late, okay?”
I wave my good hand as I try to settle in. It’s not going well.
I hear a huff before looking up to see Bones shaking his head as he walks in. “Hold on…” he grumbles, going into my bathroom and emerging with a towel. “Up,” he demands, helping me sit up with a hand behind my upper back. “You don’t need to be sleeping on cold, wet hair,” he shakes his head as he lays the towel on my pillow.
“Now,” he looks at my shoulder, “I know where Jim hides his sports wrap, so I can rewrap that shoulder if you want so it stays more stable than in the sling?”
I try to roll it, and it doesn’t go. It just twinges with pain instead and I wince. “Will it help with pain?”
He nods, “it’ll keep it from moving around which will lessen and prevent pain.”
I sigh, “fine.” He leaves and I work my sweater off to get to my tank top underneath, good arm twisting through the sleeve first, before trying to gingerly get it down the bad side inside out.
“Oh-kay,” Bones sighs, coming back into the room with a roll of sports tape.
“That jerk coulda told me he had that, I could have wrapped my ankle up myself!”
“Which is exactly why I’m guessing he didn’t tell you,” Bones sits at my hip and eyes my shoulder clinically. “Where does it hurt the worst?”
“Mmm,” I hum, thinking, as I look down. “Probably the front.”
He nods as he thinks. “Okay, that makes sense. We will wrap it to keep that area the most immobile.” He holds up the tape, “okay?”
“Okay.”
“Painkillers working yet?”
“Hm?” My head feels heavy, not quite like I’m out of it, but the pain is pleasantly dulled. It clicks what he’s asking, and I roll my shoulder a bit. “Oh, mm, ‘s duller than before but still hurts.”
“Good, they’re kicking in.”
“‘S fast.”
“‘S Starfleet level meds is what it is. Better than Riverside crap.”
“You know it was a Starfleet hospital in Riverside, right?”
He sighs, “yeah, and I also know how much your ma hated Starfleet and probably avoided their hospitals.”
I shrug, my one shoulder doesn’t move. I look down, “‘s stuck,” I comment.
“That’s the point.”
“Oh.” I try to remember what we were talking about. “Kinda makes sense now, y’know?”
“What’s that, kiddo?” My shoulder is wrapped and he’s putting the sling back on me now.
“Why she left. Why she hated it. Starfleet, I mean. Why she never wanted to take me to the doctor when I got hurt. She knew what they might find.”
He slows down as he thinks, “she didn’t like taking you to the doctor?”
“Mm-mm.” I shake my head.
“Have you ever had blood tests done?”
“Mmm… Nope.”
“Before she got sick- never in your life have you had bloodwork?!”
“Nope.” I yawn.
“Yeah… That is suspicious, kid…”
“Seems my mom had a lot of secrets…” I mumble, eyes closing. “Jus’ wish she’d put some of this info in her stupid binder.”
“Her what-now?”
“Mm, the binder she made for all the steps to take after she died. Like… “call Jim”, “submit obituary”, “meet with funeral director”.”
“She… She left you a binder with a list of things to do?!”
“You sound angry…” I mutter.
“Not at you, kiddo. I’m mad that you had to do all that yourself.”
“You’re mad at her.”
He fumbles for words.
“Don’t worry, I am too…” My last words before dropping off.