#chapter five lit

Chapter 5

    Leonard slammed a fist on his desk and ran the other hand down his face, ending the comm. He couldn’t take much more of this. If someone didn’t find Jim soon he was going to have some kind of nervous break down, in fact, he was surprised he hadn’t had one already.

    He decided to take himself up on that drink and left his office, not even giving a wave to anyone at the nurse’s station as he stalked past. He was on his way to his room when that old saying popped violently into his head, playing over and over again, “you don’t know what you got till it’s gone,” and hell if that weren’t true.

    He’d known Jim Kirk since the day he sat next to him on the shuttle in Riverside, and he’d be the last to admit that there had been something between them right from the get go, but now he wished he had. He’d spent years trying to convince himself that what he felt for the kid wasn’t anything more then friendship, but after a few close calls he started to realize that maybe he couldn’t keep up that charade for much longer. Now Jim was missing, and every emotion that he had tried for all those years to push down and ignore, because ain’t no way the kid would have feelings for a grumpy old man like him, came quickly flooding back to him, pushing him into a sort of self destructive spiral.

    It started slow. The first few nights Jim was missing he had spent them locked up in his room, trying to quell the frequent panic attacks that were suddenly plaguing him. Thoughts and visions filled his head of Jim dying in so many different ways. Jim floating in space, mangled in the shuttle crash, by infection, by dehydration or starvation… alone. The thoughts quickened his heart and tightened his chest, but no matter what he did he couldn’t vanquish the thought of Jim dying alone and without knowing what he should have told him years ago.

    He had hoped that throwing himself fully into the rescue efforts for Jim and the cadets would maybe help deter these thoughts, but it only made them worse. Each day he would join Spock, Nyota, and a few other members of their crew in mapping out different routes and possible locations. Only, when Leonard started seeing for himself what kinds of planets Jim could have landed on, he was sure one of his panic attacks would turn into a heart attack. As he stood motionless and silent in the ready room off the bridge, looking at pictures and listening to Spock talk about different planets along the shuttles possible routes, “volcanic planet,” “made up of 87.65% water,” “host to a race of hostile inhabitants,” and more, Leonard could hardly contain his very high, and quickly rising, level of anxiety.

    He managed to hide it fairly well during these meetings with Jim's rescue crew. Holding the emotions inside and saving his attacks for when he was in the privacy of his own room, alone, where he could drown his fears in a glass of bourbon. And that’s where it quickly went down hill, and fast. What started off as his usual one or two glasses a night, turned into three, then four, and eventually he found that even the entire bottle couldn’t stop the scenes from running through his mind.

    Now, eighteen days into searching for Jim and again coming up empty handed, he found himself sitting on his couch, having already emptied bottle number one, and half way through bottle number two. And even that didn’t seem to be enough tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Lieutenants log, Stardate 2264.96. It has been eighteen days and still no sign of the captain or our missing cadets. I have sent out alerts in all areas of the quadrant in all native languages as well as several foreign ones, and still no one has reported seeing our missing shuttle or crew members...”

    Nyota sighed, running a hand down her face. She had been on the bridge for she didn’t know how long, composing alerts and translating them into as many languages as she knew in an attempt to find Jim, or at the very least have someone come forward with some information that could lead them in the right direction. At this point they were grasping at straws and practically guessing when it came to searching planets. They might as well have closed their eyes and thrown a dart at a map. They had no idea where the shuttle had even gone, and no one in this entire quadrant seemed to know either.

    She ended her comm and turned back to the screen where she was working on her latest translation. The bridge had been quiet all shift, everyone solely focused on finding their missing captain and crew.

    She heard the rush of air as the turbo lift doors opened and closed, and heard the footsteps as they walked steadily across the bridge and stopped behind her. Though she didn’t turn around and instead continued her work.

    A gentle hand touched her shoulder, an attempt to gain her attention. “Lieutenant,” the steady voice of their acting captain broke through the silence, “have you been here for both shifts?”

    She turned to face Spock, realizing now that the bridge crew behind him were not the faces her usual shift crew. Quickly turning back to her screen and looking at the time she sighed and slumped back in her chair, “Yeah, I guess I have.”

    Spock leaned over her slightly, looking at the screen, “Are you sending out another alert about the captain and the cadets?”

    “Yes.”

    “How many have you sent out?”

    “Not including the thirteen native languages of this quadrant…” she thought for a moment, “this will be the eighth.”

    “What language?”

    “This one’s in Klingon.”

    “May I?” She gestured to the screen and pushed her chair to the side so Spock could better view the message. He leaned fully forwards and began reading the text, “Attention Klingon citizens in the Omarian quadrant. This is the crew of the Enterprise asking for your help. On Stardate 2264.78 a shuttle manned by our captain and fourteen cadets was ambushed by an unknown source and chased out of sight of our ship. Those cadets as well as our captain, James Tiberius Kirk, are still missing. We are asking anyone with any information on their whereabouts, or regarding the attack, to please contact the Enterprise immediately. Our family would appreciate any assistance you can give.”

    When he finished reading the passage, he backed away and turned to her, hands folded behind his back, “Do you think the Klingons would help us if they did hold information pertinent to the captain’s rescue?”

    She shrugged, “It’s worth a shot at this point. So far everything else has been a bust.”

    “You do have a point, Lieutenant.” She nodded in response and Spock watched as her head slowly began to fall into her chest. He placed his hand on her shoulder again, jolting her from her half asleep state, “Come, Lieutenant, you must rest. If any information is discovered I will contact you immediately.”

    “No,” she said as she stood from the chair and Spock began gently guiding her towards the lift, “Spock, I have a few more languages I wanted to translate that message into. Just-”

    “Nyota,” he stopped her with a hard look, “we will be no help to Jim, the missing cadets, or the rest of the crew if we are not well rested. Get some rest and we can continue the translations tomorrow.”

    “Yeah,” she nodded, getting into the lift, “you're right. I’ll be here tomorrow morning to continue the translations.”

    Spock gave a nod as the doors closed and she ordered the lift to her deck. In seconds the lift doors opened again and she slowly made way to her room. She was just about there when a familiar blonde head of hair came towards her from down the hall.

    “Christine, what are you doing up so late?”

    “Emergency surgery on one of the engineering crew,” she huffed a breath and rubbed her already red eyes, “I was actually already off shift and in bed when M’benga called me in to help.”

    “Doesn’t doctor McCoy usually take the reigns on these kinds of things?” She quirked a brow and crossed her arms, “At the very least he's usually present during the surgery.”

    “That’s just the thing,” she shrugged, “no ones been able to get him on comms. He left the sickbay around noon without telling anyone and no ones heard from him all day.”

    “That’s odd.”

    Christine rubbed a hand up her arm, shifting slightly closer to whisper to Nyota, “I'm worried about him, Ny,” she stepped back, not sure if she should disclose this next bit of information to a lieutenant, but she needed to tell someone and she didn’t think that someone should be Spock, considering his track record with Leonard, “I keep finding empty bottles of alcohol all over his office, he's leaving shift early, I don’t think he's done a surgery or even an exam on anyone in weeks, he won’t talk to anyone, spends most of his time in his office gaping at those maps. I know this all has to do with Jim going missing, and believe me we are all feeling the loss right now, but I'm afraid he's spiralling into something he won’t be able to pull himself out of and soon it might… it might get really bad if someone doesn’t pull him out.”

    “You’re right,” she nodded, “what's his room number? I’ll check on him.”

    Christine pulled up the padd in her hand and tapped away for a second before looking back to Nyota, “Room, 226.”

    “Ok, I'm on my way,” she turned to head back to the lift before calling out, “I’ll comm you when I’ve got him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    Nyota arrived at room 226, the room of her good friend Doctor Leonard McCoy. She knocked and waited, looking around the deserted hallway. It was long past midnight and the ship was eerily quite as she waited. When she heard no answer or rousing from the other side she knocked again, this time shouting, “Leonard, I know you’re in there, please let me in. I know this change in you is because of Jim but we can talk it out, just open the door. People are worried about you.”

    Still no one answered and she would admit that she was starting to get worried too. She took another look around the halls, making sure she was still alone, before quickly hacking into the lock pad beside Len’s door and breaking in.

    She entered to the room in complete darkness. She closed the door behind her and called out for Len but again there was no answer. She ordered the computer to turn the lights on and gasped when she was finally able to see. And what she was met with was a room full of countless empty bottles, a passed out doctor on the floor in front of the couch, and a bottle of half empty bourbon slowly leaking in his hand.

    She ran over to him, turning him over and taking his face in her hands shaking him gently, “Leonard, wake up!”

    When all she got in response was a groan and a still unconscious Leonard, she grabbed her comm and called Christine.

    “Uhora!” Christine’s voice came through the comm, “Did you talk to Leonard?”

    “Not exactly,” she grunted as she hauled the limp doctor off the floor and slung his arm over her shoulder, “meet me back in sickbay, find an empty room and prep a bed for me. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

    Before anything else could be said she ended the call and began dragging Leonard across the room and slowly down the hall. He was no help to her at all, only grunting in protest at the upright position and occasionally shuffling his feet and throwing them both off balance. And after what seemed like a life time they finally made it to the lift that would take them to Christine.

    When she had first laid eyes on Leonard lying lifeless on the floor, her first thought was to call Spock. He was after all, their acting captain in Jim's stead, but when rethinking that strategy she decided against it. Spock and the doctor did not have the best past and she could only imagine the fight that would ensue when Spock found out that his chief medical officer had nearly drank himself into a coma. And with Jim being gone and tensions already on the rise, she was sure it would most likely end in a blood bath. Instead she decided it best to keep this incident quiet and leave Len in the trustworthy hands of nurse Chapel.

    When the lift door opened Christine was already there waiting for them, eyes blowing wide upon seeing the limp state of Leonard hanging off uhora’s shoulder. She quickly ran inside the lift taking up Len’s other side and lead them all to the room she had prepped in the far back of the sick bay.

    They landed Leonard on the bed and shaded the windows before closing the door, leaving the three alone.

    “What happened?!” Christine instantly began scanning Leonard, checking all vitals while waiting for an explanation.

    Uhora sighed, running a hand through her hair before answering, “Jim still missing has clearly put a strain on all of us in many different ways. I found him passed out in his room surrounded by empty bourbon bottles. I can’t even begin to guess how many bottles he drank before he passed out.”

    Chapel ran a scanner over him, eyes on her padd. “He’s lucky you found him and not someone else.”

    “Those were my thoughts exactly,” she nodded, “I thought about calling Spock for help but I thought maybe it would be best to keep this quiet.”

    “You’re probably right.” She pulled the scanner away, placing it back in her pocket and put the padd on the bedside table before turning to Uhora, “He’ll be fine. Nothing I can’t fix with a few good hypos.”

    Uhora smirked, crossing her arms and standing, “I’ll be back in the morning to talk to him when he’s more himself, so don’t let him leave this room until I get here.” Chapel nodded, “And you should get some sleep too, Christine. Don’t let this fool keep you up all night.”

    “I will. Good night, Nyota.”

    “Good night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    For the first time in a long time Leonard woke up to a blinding headache. His eyes were so heavy and sore they didn’t even want to open, and sitting up was definitely not going to happen right now.

    He ran a shaking hand down his face trying to remember what happened. He remembered making it to his room, then soon after receiving a comm from Spock informing him that the mission had yet again been a failure, and they would have to move on to another planet to search for Jim. Next thing, he had a bottle of bourbon in his hand and the rest is a haze.

    Though he didn’t remember what happened he was sure he could put two and two together and figure it out, but how he had ended up in the sickbay would remain a mystery.

    As he rifled through his jumbled thoughts for an answer the door opened, letting in a little too much light for his over sensitive eyes, and he shot a hand up to cover them.

    “Oh, is that too bright for you?” A woman's voice hit his ears and he groaned in response, “I'm sorry, let me just open it a little more then. Or how about I do you one better. Computer, lights one hundred percent!”

    As more light flooded the room Leonard hissed and rolled onto his side, which was a horrible idea as he felt his stomach lurch with the motion. Though he was far too stubborn to blow his stomach contents, and also not willing to stand to run to the bathroom, and forced himself to get over the sudden wave of nausea.

    He let out one more groan as his stomach screamed at him, along with his liver, and he slit his eyes open just enough to see a familiar figure standing before him, arms crossed. “Uhora. What are you doing here? And why am I here?”

    “You don’t remember?” She spat, walking closer to him, “I had to drag your dumb ass here after I found you passed out on your floor last night! I had to pull Chapel out of her room after she already worked a double and assisted on an emergency surgery because you were nowhere to be found, just so she could save your sorry hide from dying of alcohol poisoning!”

    Yep, it was just as he had suspected. He clutched his stomach as another wave of nausea hit him and he looked up at her, “Look, Uhora, I-”

    She raised a hand to stop him, “I don’t even want to hear your lame excuse Leonard. I had every intention of coming in here this morning and being as sympathetic as I could, but I couldn’t do it. I know your situation is slightly different then the rest of us, but you're not the only one who’s effected by Jim's absence!”

    His brows furrowed and he pulled himself up in the bed to sit up slightly, “What do you mean my situation is different?”

    She met his confused eyes with ones filled with pity. “Leonard, I know how you feel about Jim, I think everyone knows.”

    “How I feel about him?”

    She moved to sit on the edge of the bed facing him, all sternness replaced with the sympathy she spoke of before as she placed a hand on his shoulder, “The two of you were made for each other. I’ve seen the way you look at him, and how he looks at you, I’ve seen the way you act around each other and I know it’s more then merely friendship between you. But Leonard, you have got to pull yourself together. Jim is out there somewhere, along with fourteen other cadets who all need our help. No doubt when we find them they are going to need their chief medical officer in top condition to patch them up, and Jim is surely going to need his Bones just the same way.” He laid his head heavily back on the bed, letting it all sink in as she continued, “If you love him as much as I know you do, you'll sober up and get ready for when we do find him. And when he does get back, you should probably do something about that unspoken bond between the two of you. If this is anything to learn from, it’s that our lives are too dangerous and unpredictable to wait until it’s too late.”

    She gave his arm a pat and left him alone to wallow in her words. He sighed, thinking over what she had said and decided that as always, Uhora was right… about everything.

    He rolled to his side again and searched the room for his comm finding it on top of his shoes beside the bed. He grabbed it and rolled to his back, holding the comm in front of his face, before taking a deep breath and speaking as calmly as he could. “CMO’s log, stardate 2264.97. It’s… it’s day nineteen now in our search for the captain, and I won’t lie… I am struggling with his absence. After some much needed words of wisdom from Lieutenant Uhora I’ve come to realize some things, or rather finally come to fully accept them. All I’ve got to say is we better find you soon, Jim, and we better find you alive, cuz I’ve got a lot to say to you kid… a whole hell of a lot.”

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