Chapter Text
“Thanks for meeting with me, Spock, this won’t take too much time.”
“It was no trouble, Captain.”
“You…” Jim halted, fiddling with the edge of a padd on his desk. “You’ve been in Starfleet a lot longer than I have,” he said. “Have you ever heard of something called Section 31?”
If it could, Spock’s face hardened. “I’ve heard… whispers,” he began. “Rumors, mostly. However…”
“However?” Jim prompted.
“However,” Spock began again, “logically, there seems to be some truth to the rumors.”
“How so?”
“It is a logical conclusion that Starfleet would need an intelligence division, one that can quietly take care of urgent and classified matters.”
“My mother was in intelligence,” Jim thought aloud, leaning back in his chair. “Callie didn’t know that, I didn’t know that. It was news to us both at her funeral.”
“Interesting,” Spock mused. “What did you believe her to do prior to that?”
“Engineer, “ Jim said with a shrug. “I was always under the impression she was just a red-shirt.”
“It is possible that was a cover for her intelligence work.”
“It would explain how she ended up in a lab where she could alter embryos.”
“And how she came to know Dr. Vos.”
“God, Spock, how did you and Bones come up with a cure when he couldn’t?”
“My theory is that Dr. Vos’ research was lost on Tarsus IV and he was more concerned with trying to replicate it than looking for new ways to synthesize the cure.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The amount of cruel and unnecessary blood samples your sister endured are quite telling,” Spock said with an air of disapproval. “For a so-called scientist to take so many indicates he was testing a great many theories, but coming up with no results.”
“How the mighty have fallen,” Jim said, looking far away.
“Captain?”
“Going from Kodos’ right hand man to a guy who can’t recall his own research. No wonder he’s so angry and wanted her so badly.”
“Indeed.”
“Do you think he worked with Section 31?”
“Unclear.”
“Spock…” Jim shook his head. “Those thugs knew right where to target me, what my physical weak spots were. Only someone who's read my file would know those things.”
Spock’s eyebrow rose. “That is indeed troubling,” he agreed.
Jim nodded, deep in thought. He had kept the fact that he knew Vos from Spock, of course. But it was a secret that was getting harder to keep the closer they became. It had been nearly a year in space, since Nero, and they were finally getting along, like, really getting along. He was afraid to lose that, and illogically, he thought if he someday told Spock about Tarsus, things would change between them. They sure did in ways with Bones.
…Bones was understanding. Bones helped him through nightmares, flashbacks, trauma anniversaries. But that was Bones , not a Vulcan who had nearly choked him out.
He shook his head slightly to bring himself back to the present. “I guess I’m just not sure how deep this thing goes. What would Starfeet gain from working with Vos?”
“Much, I am afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“A human expression I believed you would resonate with.”
“I do.”
Life just… goes on.
It confuses me how something so big, so traumatic, so scary can happen and the planets keep turning, the universe keeps expanding. Life goes on. People go back to work. Jim and Bones do.
Christine tells me I can come down to medbay and sit with her if I need company, and Jim is frequently messaging me, but I still feel far too alone. Like no one can understand what I’ve been through. Not even Jim.
His traumas are so much different than mine. He was actually experimented on by Vos, and I… I just had blood samples taken. It’s not the same. I shouldn’t be trying to relate to Jim’s experiences but I can’t help it. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to someone who understands.
Sitting on my bed, I run my hands through my hair in frustration. My injuries are healed, no one is chasing me anymore, and I’m safe with a brother who claims to love me. I should be happy.
My mind wanders to the anxiety meds I’ve been on for a week at this point. I can’t help but wonder if they’ll help with things like this, feeling trapped and lonely and afraid. Anxious.
I grab a nursing book and flip it open on my bed, but the words just blur together. I huff and close it.
What am I to do with my time, now that I’m not worried about being kidnapped?
I get up and go out to the living room, stare through the window out at the stars.
We’re in orbit around a planet, one they’re surveying, and the oranges and reds that cover it swirl in front of my eyes. The window isn’t huge, but the view is spectacular. I think about the observation decks we’ve passed during my time on the ship, and I decide to head down to one to get a better view.
I search for an empty one, and the first one thankfully is.
After who knows how long of me just staring, I hear the doors open behind me and I turn. Spock strolls in, arms tucked behind his back. “Calliope,” he begins. “Your brother became worried about you when you would not answer his messages and he dispatched me to check on you in your current location.”
“Am I not supposed to be here?” I ask worriedly.
“On the contrary,” he gives a singular head shake. “The captain is very happy you are exploring the ship, as it were. He is simply… worried.”
“You mentioned that.”
“He used the term frequently.”
“Why didn’t he come himself?”
“He cannot always leave the bridge.”
I hum. “Well,” I say after a beat, “you can tell him I’m fine.”
“Are you?”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“Are you truly “fine”, or are you, as they say, putting on a brave face?”
I blink. Is this Vulcan asking me about my feelings right now?
He moves closer, to come stand in front of me. “You have been through very traumatic events over the past months. It is understandable if you are having difficulties adjusting or processing.”
“I’m-”
“Fine, you mentioned.”
I sigh, “what do you all want from me? For me to break down, cry? Say that I feel lost and empty and confused how life can just go on after having the crap beat out of me? By both my mother and those thugs?” I jolt back suddenly, confused at the confession. “I’m sorry,” I shake my head quickly. “That was rude.”
“That was honest.”
“Same difference.”
“No, it is not.”
“I’m just wasting time until I turn eighteen,” I sigh. “Trying to stay out of everyone’s hair until then.”
“But what if they want you in their hair, as you put it?”
“Who’s that?”
“Doctor McCoy. Nurse Chapel. Nyota. Your brother. Many people have expressed happiness at your presence here, Calliope. You are not a burden.”
Tears spring to my eyes, “what?”
“You are not a burden to the people that care about you. On the contrary, hiding your struggles worries others more than if you were to go to them with your cares.”
“How can they possibly know what I’m hiding?”
“It does not take much observation.”
“So what am I supposed to do about it?”
He gives a one shoulder shrug, looking more human than Vulcan for a moment. “I cannot tell you that. What I can tell you is that there are individuals here who are yearning to be there for you, as it were, and you would benefit from letting them.”
“Do you speak from experience?” I snort.
“I do,” he nods once.
I raise an eyebrow.
“I have found that conversing with Nyota makes my worries lessen. Playing chess with your brother is quite the calming experience. Even discussing science related matters with Dr. McCoy is something I find enjoyable.”
“Nyota is way older than me, I don’t play chess, and I hate doctors.”
“Nyota is not that much older than you, and enjoys your company. Chess is not mandatory and Dr. McCoy is not like all doctors.”
“Are you always so contradictory?”
“When needed.”
I laugh a little at that.
“What I am advising, Calliope, is that you cease trying to keep everything to yourself, and let those who want to help you do so.”
“But how do I know they really want to?”
“You believe them when they tell you. The people I have mentioned are not liars. On the contrary, they are some of the most honest people I know. And I know that they all want to spend time with you.”
I drop my crossed arms and sigh. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to let them in when they push.”
“No, you will let them in now as they’ve already pushed.”
“You can be bossy, you know that?”
“I have been told.”
I’m hanging upside down on the couch one night when Jim returns from his shift, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You have a headache, too?” I ask.
He nods, “I think it was lunch. Too much sugar…”
I motion at myself, “yeah, same. I’m trying to get blood to rush to my head so I don’t have to go get painkillers.”
He smirks, before rushing over to join me. “Then let me try, too.”
I laugh as he kicks his legs over the back of the couch and hangs beside me.
“By the way,” he begins. “We usually have a game night on Fridays. We took a break after… Winona… But the guys want to start it back up again. We have it here, are you okay with that?”
I try to shrug but being upside down makes it hard. “They’re your quarters,” I say.
“They’re ours ,” he counters.
I sigh, “hey, who am I to interrupt game night?”
Jim smiles at me, and then Bones walks in without knocking, looking between us both as he holds his padds for charting. “…you’re both upside down,” he drawls.
“Yes, Callie said this cures headaches. She lied.” Jim responded.
“I did not lie! You’re just not committed.”
“Imma commit you both or y’all will commit me, either or…”
I’m watching Jim and Bones rearrange furniture for game night, moving the dining table over in front of the couch to have room for whatever game they play.
They rotate who chooses, and tonight is apparently Spock’s choice.
I’m sitting curled up in the armchair, nervously fiddling with my hands, wondering why Jim wants me here for this. It’s his thing, him and his friends, I just feel like an intruder.
That’s how I felt all through school, skipping grade after grade.
And no matter how many times I’m told Jim skipped grades too and I’m not an augment, I still have to wonder if that’s why I did after the conversation with Marcus.
As they straighten the table, Bones glances at me, “Cal, you didn’t eat today…” he says gently.
I level a glare at him. “I did too.”
“A rice cake doesn’t count.”
I fight the urge to growl like a toddler and get up. “Fine, let me go see what nastiness you have programmed in for my dinner choices!”
Jim cackles and Bones glares at him while I go to the replicator. I pick a pasta dish and return to my spot and start picking at it.
“ Eat , don’t pick,” Bones scolds.
I stick my tongue out at him before taking a bite.
They’re arranging the dining chairs on the other side of the table from the couch, and I start to get nervous as I realize just how many people they’re setting up for. “Who comes to these things again?” I ask nervously.
“The dinner group and sometimes a few others,” Jim says absentmindedly.
“A few others?”
“Christine, M’Benga, Keenser, there’s an open invite basically.”
I hum in response and keep poking at my food.
I can’t help but think of my mom in situations like this, all the times I got kicked under the table for saying something ‘wrong’.
Then I end up scolding myself for thinking poorly of someone who’s dead and who was my mother after all.
The door chiming takes me out of my thoughts and people start to pour in.
I wonder if I should give up my chair when Nyota pulls one up next to me and gives me a one armed hug. “Hey you,” she smiles. “How ya doing?”
I smile back, “I’m okay. How are you?”
“I’m good,” she smiles back, “but how are you?”
I huff a laugh and look down. “Uh, I’m…” I think back on where my mind was just at, on my mom, and I feel tears prick my eyes. “I’m hanging in there,” I finally work up.
She looks at me with gentility, “are you sure?” She whispers.
I swallow hard and nod, shoving the feelings down. “Yeah, I’m good.”
She smiles like she doesn’t believe me but she doesn’t push it.
Spock arrives with her and begins laying out the game he’s chosen for the evening. It isn’t long before everyone else files in in one big wave.
Like my first night here, everyone brings an array of snacks and treats in various bowls and dishes.
I can tell my brother has built quite the found family here. My heart aches at the feeling like I’ll never be a part of it. But then a moment passes when I look around again, and realize… I am in it. They’ve asked me to be here. They want me here. And that’s just… weird.
Spock is explaining the game and it makes sense to me pretty quickly, but I decline to play and say I will just watch. Jim on my other side, I look over his shoulder at the chips he’s been dealt for the game, and am careful not to react to his good hand.
As the game progresses, I can see who has a good poker- well, in this case, Vulcan-face and who doesn’t. The game is pure strategy and secrecy, something I’m admittedly better at than I should be, having grown up with my mother. “It’s nobody’s business why you missed school, you better keep your mouth shut,” when I had spent the morning throwing up from panic attacks over a test. “Put a sweater over that,” when she had slapped my arm before school one morning. Even, “it’s nobody else’s business why…” xyz, and now that one makes a lot more sense. All my mom’s secrets seem to.
I fiddle with the hem of my shirt and my padd buzzes in my pocket.
From: Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, MD, phd, phd, CMO, USS Enterprise
To: Calliope Kirk
You doing okay?
It’s been two weeks. Shouldn’t this stuff be magically easier now?
Meds don’t work that magically, sadly. But you’re here and not hiding in your room. That’s something.
I WANT to be hiding in my room.
Y'know meds do work best when combined with therapy.
I shoot him a glare across the table and shove my padd back in my pocket in the form of a response. He rolls his eyes but doesn't push it.
I look around the table and do a double take when I look at Chekov. He looks petrified , but Sulu is laughing at him, not looking worried at all. “Pasha,” he laughs, “it’s just a game, you don’t have to think that hard,”
“Da, but eet is a hard game,” his curls bounce as he shakes his head.
“You’re sweating like a hoo…” Jim starts, but trails off, looking at me.
I raise my eyebrows at him, “like a hooker in church?”
The entire table bursts out laughing and I look around in surprise.
Nyota quickly slips an arm around me and reassures, “I think everyone is just surprised to hear that expression come out of your mouth.”
I snort, glance around, “my god you guys, I’m a highschool graduate. I seriously hope you haven’t been censoring yourselves for me,” I shake my head.
I see a few glares get shot Jim’s way and I look at him as well. “Jim? Did you make you friends go G-rated for me?”
“Please, they can only go PG at best ,” he shakes his head.
“Jim!”
“I’m supposed to be setting a good example!” He protests.
Bones barks a laugh and I roll my eyes, “Jim, I’m 16. I know all the bad words and in multiple languages,” I giggle and he snorts. “You don’t have to baby me,” I shake my head.
He sighs, puts his hands up, “alright. But I’m not responsible for what bad habits you pick up.” He looks around the table and waves a hand, “free reign, guys.”
Scotty looks around genuinely confused. “…we were supposed to censor ourselves?”
“And you wonder how you ended up on Delta Vega…”
“ You wonder how you ended up on DV,” Scotty shakes his head. “All I did was an experiment. You tried taking over a ship!”
“With your help,”
“I’m sorry, you did what ?”
Jim gapes at me like he had forgotten I was here. “Uhh,” he drawls.
“Took over the ship,” Nyota smirks with a singular nod. “Boarded illegally, twice , and-"
“Okay, let me reinstate the censor-"
“-and did he ever tell you about the swollen hands and numb tongue?”
“Wait, don’t be tellin’ her that story,” Bones waves a hand at her.
“Oh I already know about the Levaran mud fleas,” I shudder. “I had that vaccine, remember?”
“Everyone in this room has had that vaccine,” Jim shakes his head. “You and me are the only ones that reacted to it.”
“Oh, fun.”
“Very.”
“Hey, Callie?”
“Hm?”
“Your move.”
I look down to see I’ve been dealt into the game and I feel my face lose its color. “I, uh,” I hurriedly but hesitantly pick up my chips. “You didn’t have to deal me in,” I say to Jim.
“Ah, that was me,” Sulu says from across the table. “Sorry, just didn’t want to leave you out all night,” he winces apologetically and I force a shrug. “No, don’t apologize, I just…” I try to find an excuse. “Just not sure I’ll be any good at this…”
“None of us are when it’s Spock’s night to pick,” Jim grumbles.
I take my turn and pick my padd up from my pocket out of habit.
“Callie, can I make you a plate?” Nyota asks quietly as she gets up to head to the kitchen.
I startle a bit at the question and look into her eyes- sincerity in their chocolate seas. “Uh, s-sure?” I stammer, to which her face lights up. “Oh good,” she smiles, “I need you to try these cookies I made…”
And Spock’s words come back to me. When he said that people have tried to be my friend and I need to let them. It goes against every fiber of my being, but… but I suppose he’s right. Sulu dealt me in. Nyota is making me a plate. And suddenly Pavel is telling me he skipped a ton of grades in school, too, and was there any part I enjoyed?
They’re trying to draw me out and for the first time, I can see it but for the first time, I’m actually believing it.
After everyone left, Bones and Jim set the place back to normal and settled in for a movie.
Bones watched out of the corner of his eye as Callie struggled to stay awake as the movie went on.
When her head finally lolled to one side, he slid over and gently lowered her down onto a pillow.
Two weeks. Two weeks on meds and she was sleeping. Thank everything good in the universe for modern medicine.
His thoughts drifted to the modern medicine of creating the cure Vos was looking for. How easily they were able to do it.
Almost too easily.
He began to wonder if there was more to it, a bigger reason they wanted her blood.
He had to wonder why. What else could they try to extract from it?
Or… or. Were they trying to put something in her cells?
It made theoretical sense- if her cells had been altered one way, could they extract the genes that create the cure and then put something else in their place?
No… even theoretically… but… what if?
He looked over at her, peacefully asleep, and then back at Jim, eyes glazed over on the movie.
At least for the moment they were both content, healthy, and safe. And that was just about the best he could ask for.
The headache I’ve been fighting for days hits a breaking point the next day.
I moan and roll over, both things a mistake.
When the world starts going dark around the edges, I know I need help.
I haul myself up, fighting a wave of nausea as my ears blast with ringing.
By the time I get to medbay, I’m trying hard not to squint in pain.
It annoys me that there's not an official front desk, so I don’t know where to go or who to look for.
Bones pops out from his office, and I wonder if there’s some sort of silent alarm for when someone walks in.
“Cal? What’s up?” He crosses his arms as he walks over to me.
I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, “migraine,” I moan without meaning to.
“1 to 10?”
“8.”
He gently grasps my wrists and pulls them away from my eyes.
I look up at him and he uses both hands to gently tip my jaw up, “look me in the eyes for a sec,” he requests. “I need to see your pupils.”
“It’s just a headache,” I mumble. “Just need drugs.”
“Well, let’s get you settled first and then-"
“Nooo,” I whine, tipping my face back down into my hands. “Just give me drugs and let me go back to bed so I don’t puke.”
“You’re nauseous too?”
“Yeah.”
“More nauseous than usual?”
“Yeah.”
I pause, look up suddenly. “Hey!” I object.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Hm. Finally some truthfulness.”
I roll my eyes. “ Pleaseee give me drugs.”
He sighs, “no, seriously, I need to check your blood pressure. If your pain is at an eight I’m worried.”
I sigh. “Fiiine,” and let him lead me to a biobed with a hand on my upper back.
I lay down without being told and throw an arm over my eyes.
“Wait, here,” he says, moving my arm and replacing it with a cool, wet rag that I have no idea where it came from.
I cross my arms and dig my cheek into my shoulder, which he then gently rubs. “Cmon, Cal, you’ve gotta relax a bit,”
“Hurts,” I whimper.
“Your blood pressure is slightly high but fine. The drug will make you sleep, okay?”
I nod.
“I’ll be right back,”
“Mmhm.”
It feels like an eternity before he’s back and offering relief that I gladly take.
“Might take a bit to kick in fully,” he warns. “Do you want nausea medication too?”
“Yes, please.”
While he’s gone, I take the rag off my eyes and sit up. I check for run mascara, then remember I couldn’t see clearly enough to put on makeup. Great.
I turn and dangle my legs over the edge of the bed so I can leave after he gets back.
I rub the back of my neck and close my eyes, the light still hurting. I hate when my migraines move deep into my neck, they’re usually harder to shake when that happens.
“You can stay a while, if you want,”
I didn’t even register Bones returning.
“If you’re as dizzy as you look… you probably should.”
“S’kay. Jus’ wanna hot bath.”
“You’re slurring.”
“I know!”
He sighs and deposits the antiemetic with my permission. “You don’t need to be taking a bath right now, I don’t want you to drown. The migraine medicine is going to make you sleepy, remember?”
“Mmhm.” I move my hands to cover my eyes from the light.
I feel a firm finger press between my eyebrows, and it’s not like it’s instant relief, but it’s definitely worth the sigh of relief that comes out of me.
“Pressure point here,” he explains.
“Mm.” I lean into the pressure as much as I can take and enjoy it.
I start to feel really floaty and heavy.
“Lights, 25%.”
I pull away, “hey-"
“Callie, you’re falling asleep. Just… let the drugs do their thing and rest in the meantime, please?”
There’s a hint of irritation there that concerns me, but he’s right, I’m falling asleep sitting up. I barely hear every other word he says.
“Mm.” I hum, before tipping myself over and bringing my knees to my chest, digging my eyes into my knees. “Dunno what caused it,” I finally mention.
A blanket is pulled over me and a hand rests so briefly on my head, I’m not sure if it’s actually real, and then I drop off.
~
When I wake up, my head is fine and clear, but I’m thirsty .
I sit up, expecting to be alone, but Jim is sitting there.
And my heart drops.
“Jim,” I gasp. “Why- what-"
He stands and raises his hands in a ‘woah there,’ motion. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Bones messaged me because there’s something he had to take care of, Christine is on break, and he didn’t want to leave you alone.”
“I can sleep by myself,” I object, rubbing my eyes.
He shrugs, “it’s never fun waking up in a medical setting alone. Trust me…”
I cock my head at that, the way he says it not sitting right. “Sounds like it’s happened to you a lot?”
He sighs, shoves his hands in his pants pockets, and looks at the ground. “I’m the captain, Cal. Sometimes that means… Uh…”
I raise an eyebrow. “Jim?”
“I mean, look, I’m allergic to a lot, right? And sometimes-”
“Sometimes,” Bones interrupts, coming back in, “he eats things he knows he shouldn’t because I haven’t had a chance to scan it yet.”
“Some native foods you have no idea if I will react to!”
“If you’d let me scan them for longer than 30 seconds I might!”
“Guys,” I wave a hand at my head. “Headache, remember?”
Bones looks at me worriedly, “it’s still bad?”
“No, I just don’t want to listen to you two argue to be honest…”
Christine laughs as she joins us, her waves bouncing as she shakes her head. “You get used to it.” She smiles at them both, crossing her arms over her chest. “Feeling better?”
“Much.”
“Good,” she smiles.
Jim and Bones leave, still bickering, both needing to get back to work.
Christine gets me discharged and as she goes to leave, I hold out a hand, “wait,” I blurt, causing her to turn with an eyebrow raised. “I have a… I have a nursing anatomy question,”
Her face lights up and she comes back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Shoot.”
“So I’m like… in… male anatomy… and I’m already clueless when it comes to that…”
She spends hours with me, patiently helping me understand the things I’m confused about on many different parts of the body and its systems.
Bones comes into the privacy bubble an hour in, worried why his head nurse was gone for so long. He excitedly plops down on his rolling stool and joins Christine in answering my questions about the endocrine system.
By the time Jim comes back to see if I’m feeling up to dinner, I’ve begun to feel guilty for taking up so much of their time, but they’re both smiling, talking to each other about how fascinating the science of healthcare is.
“Bring your books down tomorrow morning sometime and I’ll answer any other questions,” Christine says as she puts an arm around me and hauls me close. “This was fun.”
“You’re about to run out of human anatomy, kid,” Bones comments as we make our way to the mess hall. “What’ll it be next? Human psychology, or move onto alien anatomy?”
I think for a few moments, long enough for him to look at me curiously. “…what would I be doing if I were actually in college for nursing?”
Christine squeals and I shoot her a warning look. Bones can’t help but smile as he answers, “you’d keep on with human stuff. You’d be learning multiple human things concurrently, actually. If you want… we can create a lesson plan for you. Turn those practice tests into real ones.”
I fiddle with my hands as we walk and ponder his offer. “I’ll think about it,” I finally answer. “But yes I will come back tomorrow because I’m stuck on something in the function of the lymph nodes still…”
“Looking forward to it,” Bones smiles at me.
From: Calliope Kirk
To: James T. Kirk, Captain, USS Enterprise
Hey, I seriously need to do some laundry. The porter changed my sheets when I was in medbay and is asking to again but I can do it myself. Remind me again where the laundry is and what the rules are for doing it myself?
Jim sighed deeply.
“Pot meets kettle yet again…” Bones mumbled.
“Would you stop reading over my shoulder?!” Jim complained.
“Well you’re so flipping blind and always forget your contacts so the text on your padd is big enough to see from a ship over!” Bones retorted as they walked to the turbolift.
Jim huffed, too worried about Callie for a good retort. “I just don’t get why she’s insisting on doing all this stuff. She’s always cleaning and trying to make everything perfect and Jesus, I know why, I know why… I know how Winona and Frank are. Were… are?”
Bones turned to halt the turbolift. He spoke gently, “Focus, kid. Talk to me slowly. What do you mean you know why she’s like that?”
Jim leaned his head back against the wall. “I grew up in that house, too, Bones. I know the rules and regulations and the punishments for not following them. And I just don’t want her thinking it’s the same way here. That I’m the same way. But she never… relaxes.”
“It’s gonna take her time, Jim,” Bones said softly. “Even on the meds, it’ll take time. You’re giving her safety for the first time in her life, and it’s going to take her time to get used to that.” The, ‘you’ve been there’, went unsaid.
Jim stayed silent for a beat, and Len took the opportunity to lighten the mood. “Laundry.” He smiled softly. “Makes me think’a you the first month at the academy. You insisted on washing your reds yourself. And remind me what happened?”
Jim mumbled something incoherent and he playfully put a hand around his ear. “What was that? Can’t hear ya.”
Jim sighed. “I ruined 3 pairs in a week because I didn’t know they needed to be dry cleaned.”
“Jim….” Len warned.
“Okay fine, I knew they needed to be dry cleaned but I thought I could do it myself instead of making someone else do it since I really wasn’t supposed to be there anyway.”
“And after Vulcan?”
Jim growled. “I didn’t wanna wear the gold. Didn’t wanna draw attention.”
“Jim, you didn’t even wanna get a fresh set of underclothes!”
“People needed new shirts!”
“You almost got jock itch!”
“Oh my god that was embarrassing…”
“Oh please, it was just a cream.”
“THAT YOU PUT ON MY-” Jim stopped himself before slamming his forehead against the turbolift wall.
Bones sighed. “Look, I promise, Jim, she’s going to keep getting used to things here. Used to us. Her body’ll get used to having the proper levels of serotonin. She’s gonna be alright.”
Jim sighed. “I sure hope so, because-” his padd buzzing interrupted him. He looked down at it, expecting Callie but seeing it was the bridge. “Turbolift, continue,” he commanded, looking up at Bones. “Priority message from command waiting for me.” He said tersely.
“Hey, I’ve got news,” Jim smiles, or at least tries to. I can tell it’s just slightly forced.
“What?” I ask suspiciously.
“We’re heading back to earth,” he says lightly. “We’ve been called back.”
“Why?” I ask even more suspiciously.
“Starfleet Command is… worried about the threats we’ve faced with Vos and they want to do some in person debriefs.”
My face goes cold, then hot. “With me?”
He waves his hand, “no, no-no-no-no-no, with me, mostly. With Bones and Spock about their research and the cure. The fact of the matter is that Vos is still out there and if he’s not coming after you, he’ll be going after someone else and they want to try and get ahead of him.”
I nod. “Any word on Frank?”
He shakes his head, “no, I’m sorry.”
I shrug, “not your fault.”
“I’m still sorry,” he shakes his head. “But on the brightside,” he smiles, “this means shoreleave! I usually go where Bones does, and since he came with me to Iowa, we were planning on going to Georgia to see his daughter, if that’s okay with you?”
I nod, “of course! I’ll be fine here by myself, I-”
“What? Callie, no,” Jim shakes his head. “Of course you’re coming with us.”
“I am?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Cuz…” I stop. Why wouldn’t I? What reason can I give that doesn’t sound entirely self-deprecating? “Cuz it’s not… Not my family,” I say slowly.
“Yes, it is…” Jim says even slower.
I look at him with what I’m sure is pure confusion all over my face.
“Callie,” he huffs a chuckle, “you’re just as much family to Bones as I am at this point, shoot, from the moment he met you, that guy adopted you. He does that, actually,” he shrugs. “You shoulda seen him when he found out Chekov was 15 and in the academy, emancipated. He latched onto that kid and still harps on him to get to bed at a decent time. ADHD and all.”
I snort. “So he harps on everyone about sleep, I take it?”
Jim laughs, “that he does.” He pauses, “I’ve not been hearing you have nightmares as much lately… Are you finally sleeping better here?”
I hesitate. The pills I’ve been on for 3 weeks at this point really do seem to be helping me sleep, and my chest hurts less each time I have to leave our quarters than it used to. I’ve even been going down to medbay and sitting with Christine while I study. I’ve moved into psychology, so Bones is more over my shoulder than she is, out of excitement, I think. The two weirdos.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “Yeah, I think the… The pills Bones gave me are finally working.”
He smiles gently at me. “I’m glad.”
I quirk a smile and look at the ground.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Cal,” he says gently.
I sigh. “Isn’t there? I can’t control my own mind so I need pills to do it for me?”
“That’s not at all what’s going on here,” he waves a hand.
When Bones asked me if I was going to tell Jim about the pills and emphatically refused, he told me we could keep it confidential and between us… Or he could tell him if I wanted him to.
And so I let him.
And Jim sat me down and talked to me about his own history of panic attacks and nightmares, and said if there’s something out there to help me, even if it’s just temporary, he’s proud of me for accepting the help, because it’s not something he finds easy to do himself.
I sigh. "So tell me about where we are going in Georgia."
His face lights up.