Star Trek (2009)

Receptions and Revelations

At the end of my story Worse Than His Bite, I promised a story about the meeting of Spock Prime and New!McCoy. For better or worse, here it is.

Standard Disclaimers: "Star Trek" belongs to whatever corporate entity that it belongs to this week. It sure as heck ain't me.

Timeline. After the Enterprise's return to Earth after the Narada incident but before the end of the movie. Also, after my story Echoes of Another Past

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

1 - Realization

Leonard McCoy finally realized that the tightness in his chest was not being caused by the altitude. The Vulcans had expressed a desire to hold a traditional memorial service after the heavy losses they had borne. Many locations were offered, and they had chosen the north rim of Earth's Grand Canyon as the most appropriate site. But it wasn't oxygen levels at 2500 meters above sea level that was making it hard for him to breathe. It was, he finally acknowledged to himself, grief.

He hadn't given himself time to grieve, really hadn't had time to grieve First half the Enterprise's medical department had died, and he had been elbow deep in the wounded. Then Kirk managed to rescue Captain Pike, and he had been busy getting that parasite from Hell out of Pike's spinal cord. And while others were allowed time and space to count their losses when they limped back into Earth orbit, there was no rest for the medical teams. Some injured had been found in escape pods from the destroyed ships (too few, far too few) near what had been Vulcan, but mostly it was identifying remains.

Finally released from Star Fleet Medical, they had run the gauntlet of reporters and staggered back to the dorms, only to meet the first of a deluge of shocked parents, devastated spouses and bewildered children, all there to collect the belongings of their loved ones. Instead of collapsing on his bed, he had spent hours helping bereaved families pack up, and, more often than he was comfortable with, providing a shoulder to cry on.

Now he was here, listening to the chanting of the gathered Vulcans, the music floating in the thin air. The sky was starting to darken, the bright blue changing to purple and red. His eyes swept the gathered Fleet personnel. The crowd wasn't anywhere near as large as it should be, should have been. It hit him like a phaser blast to the chest. He could feel his control slipping. Damn it, he wasn't going to have an emotional breakdown here, in front of everyone. Crying at a Vulcan memorial service was probably a breach of protocol, he thought with a slightly hysterical edge. He turned on his heel, and with a muttered "Excuse me" to a startled Jim, started threading his way through the crowd. He broke through the back ranks and strode quickly down the path to the centuries old lodge. As soon as he rounded a bend in the path, he peeled off and headed for the dark pine woods. He stumbled over a few fallen branches in his quest to get out of sight of the path.

And then he sat down heavily on a fallen log, buried his face in his hands and wept. Wept for Puri, who was supposed to teach him the fine points of running a hospital/trauma center/counseling clinic in a glorified flying tin can. For Tas'leh, his Andorian lab partner in Xenopathology, who always twisted her right antennae just so when she was teaching him another rude word in her language. She had been on the Farragut. For Gaila, Nyota's roommate and Jim's latest girl friend. For his study partners and classmates and teachers. And yes, even for the Vulcans, who were trying so desperately to convince everyone, including themselves, that they had no emotions. Right, like he was ever going to believe that again after that display Spock gave on the bridge of the Enterprise.

He was there a long time.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

This story is turning out longer than I originally intended, so here is part I. Part II is still pretty rocky - remember, feedback = cookies for writers!