Title: Sweet Dreams and Butterflies Author: Istannor Series : TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: [PG13] Code: Summary: McCoy mourns the loss of his best friend and the life he loved. Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them I only check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back. Sweet Dreams And Dragonflies "Granddaddy, waddya thinking?" The childish voice cut into Leonard McCoy's reverie. He was sitting on the veranda of his daughter's home, watching the dragonflies flitter in the summer heat, and he was remembering. How to answer his Grandchild's question? He was thinking of his life that was. He was thinking of the most passionate love affair he had ever seen and it's tragic end. He was thinking he was old and surrounded by ghosts, powerful ghosts that called to him in the sweet tenor of James Kirk. Instead he said. " Just daydreaming, sweetheart. Where's Momma?" "She's inside. She said to tell you, dinner's ready, an' don' you dare let her chicken get cold." Sadie was Joanna's youngest and at seven, she was bright and inquisitive. She liked to hang around her old Grandpa, even when he looked far away. "Tell her I'll be right in." The child consented and ran inside to deliver the news. He leaned back into his chair and felt himself drifting off again as he did so frequently lately. He had always known he would outlive James Kirk. In fact, on some level he was continually surprised his best friend had lived as long as he had. Luck, his own medical skills, shear willpower, and frequent Vulcan healing melds was what had kept Kirk on this side of eternity so many times it went past frightening and had become routine. "I've always known I'll die alone," Jim had told them. That statement had sent shivers up his spine then and it still did now. Strange, neither Spock nor he ever questioned his surety. They, in complete accord for once, conspired to make sure he was never alone. The great conspiracy, what a joke. Maybe if they had brought Chekov and Scotty in on it, Jim would be alive now. Ah, how could you take him from me, Lord. He was my pride and joy. No, he savagely wiped at a tear that threatened. I have Joanna and my Grandchildren. I have more than he ever had. I have stability, safety, family and I have this giant gaping hole where he used to sit and keep me warm, because he needed me. He could save worlds, or destroy them and he told me, he needed me. Who needs me now? That's the point isn't it, Leonard H. He died and you stopped living. They asked me to come back to Starfleet and clean up the Medical Corps. Jim would be proud of me if I did that. It would help those poor idiots get a clue. They need to all carry their asses off world. How would they react if their Captain asked them to cure a silicon based Horta, or treat a Klingon? Jim acted like our department could cure anything. And, dammit we just about did, didn't we? We took care of the first Vulcan-human hybrid, Klingons, Romulans, Andorians, Horta's and beings I couldn't even pronounce the name of. You needed me, Jim, and I was alive, for twenty-nine years. I was wonderfully alive. That was your gift. You made us all live past our hopes , or our expectations, even that damn Vulcan. You not only made him live, you made him love. God, how sweet that must have been for him, to have his eyes opened by you. I know you made him smile. I bet he even laughed for you. He wants me to be at his wedding. He told me you picked his bride. What a strange man you were, my friend. What a legacy you left. I don't know if I can go to it and stand there without you beside me, Jimboy. I'll just bawl and make a fool of myself. I don't think I'll go. "Dad, come on in the foods getting cold." Joanna's voice wafted out on the warm summer breeze. "I'm coming, sweetheart." ********** "Hey, Bones." Kirk came up and sat beside him with his tray. McCoy gave it his customary once over, but it held a vegetarian fare, like it had for the last few months. Kirk looked healthy, no he looked radiant. "Hey, yourself, Captain. What the hell is up with you? You are happy all the time, actually underweight, and eating vegetables instead of the steaks and deserts I gave you clearance for. I want you to get back up to your ideal weight, Jim. You've been too small ever since you returned to the ship, and it's not getting any better. " "Bones, you know as well as I do, I beat Regs for strength, speed, and endurance. I am content. I never was a big guy. Anyway, I used to bulk up to make up for my size, or lack of it. Now, I have learned enough martial arts techniques that I don't feel the need for the extra bulk. Shit, I'm stronger now than I was at thirty-one when I joined the ship. So, what are you beefing about?" "I don't know, it just makes you look more vulnerable somehow." "Stop worrying, Mother-hen. I'm healthy as two horses." "So, you haven't answered my other question, why are you looking so happy all the time?" "Because, I am. I'm back where I belong. I have the two bests friends anyone could ever want, backing me up. I have the greatest ship and crew in the galaxy and I haven't had to kill anyone in three months. And, no-one has tried to kill me. Don't you think I should be happy with that?" "I guess so." They sat companionably for awhile. A look on Kirk's face alerted him to something new. Jim tensed ever so slightly and a smile came to his face. Before McCoy could ask him about it, the door opened and Spock came in. Jim never turned around, but his smile got wider and more open. The Vulcan went and got his tray and came to sit down with them. McCoy felt suddenly like he was in a well of static electricity. He had to resist the impulse to brush at his clothes. A look passed between the Captain and his first Officer. McCoy had not seen them do the like before. "Uh, oh." They both turned to look at him. "Anything you guys want to tell me? Or, should we retire to somewhere private for this discussion?" Spock raised his eyebrow, and Jim's smile got wider than even McCoy thought was possible. " Meet us in your cabin for dinner, Bones. We'll have our talk then." McCoy was about to agree when the alert klaxon sounded and the Captain and the First Officer disappeared, faster than McCoy could stand. He never understood how they did that, but they did, and always together, and without speaking. The dinner was probably going to be late. As it turned out the dinner did not happen. It became a non-issue. Everything became crystal clear when the bleeding, shattered, burned body of James Kirk was brought into the sickbay, with a Vulcan almost in tears at his side. It all became so obvious, when he realized he would not be able to save his friend, the man he loved more than any other, this time. The injuries were too grave, even life support would only delay the inevitable by minutes. He tried anyway, knowing he would fail.. He began to feel himself disintegrate as he watched Jim die. All his skills and all his knowledge did not help him and he felt totally helpless and bereft of comfort. He had known he would lose him one day. The way Jim lived and risked all, time and time again. One day his luck had to run out. "God, no, not now, please. I still need him so. What will Spock do? Please, have mercy on us." He remembered closing his eyes and hearing a scream. It was Chapel. Spock, realizing Jim was dying had entered with him into a death meld. He was going to die with him. McCoy reached out in a panic to try to stop them when Chapel shouted at him. "No, wait, his vitals are stabilizing." McCoy screamed for M'Benga. If Spock could just get him to hold on for a bit, they might be able to do something. He raced Jim into surgery and worked until he finally had to be carried away to sleep, in total exhaustion. Spock's face smiled. He did not release himself from the meld for another twelve hours. When he did, Jim was stable, and what they were going to tell him was obvious. M'Benga had taken McCoy aside and explained to him what Spock had done and why he was able to do it. Only bonded mates could go so deeply into one another, without a healer, and survive the separation, because they were never separate. For that period of time, they were totally one and Vulcan physiology had saved a human. Spock had not risked his life, he had saved theirs. When Jim awoke, Spock was there. McCoy had cleared the sickbay to give them privacy. Spock had asked him to stay. That had touched him almost as much as the gentle kiss the Vulcan whispered across the lips of his Captain. That single kiss said more than any words could ever transmit. And so he was brought into their confidence, and never left out again. He paused in his remembering and took a long sip of his scotch. He had stopped drinking Saurian brandy after Jim died. It didn't taste the same without him around. More memories flared. He sat in the forward observation room. His hand with draped carelessly over the side of an overstuffed chair and the viewport was wide open to the stars. Few did that. The scene, with the warp distortion, often made crewmembers ill. McCoy knew it was Jim. Jim never got his fill of looking. He didn't understand what Jim saw, but he accepted it as part of the man he served with all of his being. He had brought two glasses of Saurian brandy and shoved one wordlessly into the outstretched hand of his Captain. Kirk grabbed it reflexively, and turned to look up at him and smile. It was an obvious effort. Jim brought the glass to his lips and took a long slow sip and then leaned back and closed his eyes. "How are you doing?" He asked his Captain.. Kirk had been through hell recently. First Edith. then his brother and sister in law had died. Kirk had killed Edith, or to be fair, he made sure she died. McCoy still could not get over the look on his friend's face as he had held him tightly in the aftermath. Even then, he had been silent. The Vulcan had worn a look that McCoy had never seen before. McCoy still regretted his outburst at the time, but Jim had forgiven him, as usual. It was too much for one man to bear. Yet, all he did was come to the observation deck and quietly look at the stars. He had not seen him shed a single tear yet. It was scaring him. Jim was scaring him. He was too still, too calm. "How am I doing, he asks?" Kirk swirled his index finger around in his drink. "I've been through this drill before, Bones. Death and destruction are old bedfellows. So, I guess I would have to say, I'm doing fine. This too shall past." His voice was soft and wistful. His eyes never left the stars. "Jim, the way you are dealing with this is..." "My way," he interrupted. "What do you prefer, wailing, rending of clothes, and gnashing of teeth? I don't know how to do that. I never did. Not when my Grandfather died. Not for Tarsus. Not when my Father died. Not when I killed Gary. Not when Captain Garrovick and half the ship got killed around me. Not when Edith died. And now, not when Sam and Aurelan died. This is who I am. You can tell Starfleet I am acting crazy, or sane, it doesn't matter. This is who I am. What does it matter what happens in the blink of an eye, when you compare it to that?" He waved at the stars. Starfleet, on reading the reports, had sent McCoy a private set of orders telling him to watch out for any sign of instability. Fleet Captain Garth was still an open wound in their psyche. "You know they are concerned. I am supposed to be evaluating your command fitness. They haven't had anyone go through what you have had to go through recently. Especially, in view of your history." "Then evaluate me, Doctor. Tell me what you see." McCoy took a deep breath. "I see a man who hurts so deeply he is afraid to let any of it go. I see a man that life has wounded again and again, and he still refuses to stop trying. I see a man who is afraid to cry and mourn like a mere mortal. You scare me, Jim. Sometimes, I think you are worse than Spock. He at least has an excuse. What's yours, for denying you are only human, and grieving?" Kirk turned to him and McCoy was struck by the color of his eyes. They were green with the lights of gold flickering through them, a mirror to his soul. McCoy realized it was reflections from the stars, glimmering in their depths. "How do I mourn for all that has happened around me, and to me, Bones? Haven't you heard: "that which does not destroy you, makes you stronger?" I am almost made of rock by now. Isn't that what Starfleet wanted me to be, strong?" "Not like this, Jim." Kirk turned back to look at the stars and took another long sip. " I remember spending summer nights on the farm. When it was real warm, Mom would let Sam and I sleep out in the back-yard, under the stars. We would talk, at least he would, and I would listen all night until I fell asleep. Sometimes, towards sunset, the dragonflies would flit around the yard and if you stayed real still, they would land on you and you could watch them. They reminded me of little aliens from another world. At least, that's what I made of them, my first extraterrestrials." "Sam always wanted to work on a colony world, get married, and have kids. He wanted to live and die with his wife, not be away all the time like our Dad. He did everything he wanted to do, Bones. He lived his dreams. He didn't die alone. Aurelan is with him now. Why should I mourn for him? He lived the way he wished. At night, before I fell asleep, he would rub my head and wish me sweet dreams. Every night, until he left to go to college, I would hear sweet dreams, Jimmy. I never had nightmares as a child, at least not until Tarsus. I always had sweet dreams. Somewhere, I hope Sam and Aurelan are stretched out on an Iowa field looking at Dragonflies, loving each other, and having sweet dreams." "What about you, Jim. You still have to get past it." "I'll be okay, Bones. Really I will. Edith is dust and Sam is dead. Those are the facts. I have no choice; this is the life I chose. Too many people depend on me, for me not to be okay. Maybe one day I'll remember how to cry, it's just not the day for it. I can fake some tears, if it will make you feel better about my sanity." He half chuckled, half snorted. "Please, I don't think I'm ready for fake tears from you, so spare me." He shifted in his chair uncertain of how to broach the next subject, then he decided on a frontal attack, per usual. "Why are you staying away from Spock? You're hurting him too, you know." Kirk sat forward in the chair and turned to look at him briefly before ducking his head. His next words were distant and soft. "I never wanted to hurt him, but I have to keep him away. He is too in tune with my moods. He can sense me too well. I don't want him to feel what I am feeling right now, because he can't handle the emotional load. I know I should've told him why I am keeping my distance. I'll tell him today, promise." "Jim, Spock is stronger than you think. He wants to share anything you have to give with you. Let him." "Bones, if I gave Spock all the shit in my head right now, he would run screaming for Vulcan. No, I'll do it my way." He lapsed into silence. "Thanks, Bones for being there for me," he whispered. McCoy reached over and grabbed the younger man's arm tightly and shook him gently. "Anything Jim, anytime." They watched the stars until McCoy fell asleep. When he awoke, Kirk was gone and he had been covered with a blanket, tucked lovingly around him. It was years later before Kirk let him see tears, maybe he learned to let loose with Spock, but not with him. The cause had been sufficient. Spock had died, but it wasn't then. He held on rigidly after Spock's death , refusing to collapse for the cadets on board. His control had been eerie. McCoy had thought that those were the last days he would see his friend alive. It felt like Jim had decided to die as soon as he finished bringing the cadets home safely. He hadn't cried after losing David and regaining Spock. He hadn't cried after the Fal Tor Pan. He hadn't cried after the whales came home. The second day back on the new Enterprise, as they headed out to space again, McCoy had gone searching for his friend. He had looked at all the usual places and then went to the new and improved observation deck. He had to use his medical override to enter, but it felt like something he had to do at the time. There under the stars, he found James Kirk, crying. Spock was holding the human to his chest, speaking in Vulcan, and rocking him gently. McCoy remembered going over to them and wrapping both of them in his arms. The entry chime rang. "Dad," Joanna's voice called out. "You have company." Now who the hell was that, he thought. Probably somebody was wanting a free bit of medical advice. "Send them out here." He sat and waited. Damn if he was going to move for an uninvited guest. "I see your manners have not improved, Doctor." The sound of a familiar baritone made his heart skip a beat. He turned to see Spock framed by the doorway. He couldn't stop the jump up to his feet and the rush to him, followed by a hard hug. He couldn't have held back even if he had wanted to. Spock stood stoically and allowed it. McCoy finally pulled back and wiped his eyes of moisture in irritation and faint embarrassment. "Well, look what the proverbial cat drug in. How the hell are you, Spock?" Spock turned his head to the side slightly and allowed a faint smile to grace his face. "I am better than I ever expected to be again in life, Doctor, and yourself.?" "Oh, hell. I touched you, so you know. I was sitting here being maudlin about Jim." He turned and crossed back to his seat and sprawled gracelessly in it. "The cause is sufficient, he was the focal point of our life. I brought you something, Doctor." Spock turned to look at him calmly. "What?" "This is the traditional garment you will need to wear for my marriage ceremony." McCoy turned away as Spock handed him a package. He took it without looking at it and sat it aside. He cleared his throat noisily. "I am happy for you, Spock. Even if it doesn't seem that way now, truly I am." "I understand, Bones. I brought you a second item." He held out a small package. "What is it?" "I do not know, precisely, however, I received a similar package 3.2 weeks ago. When my wedding was announced, it was given to me by my parents, for you. It's from Jim." McCoy gasped, lurched to his feet, and rushed through the doorway into the house with a backward croak to Spock for him to follow. He led the way to the den and the COM he had there for his use. Starfleet never let him get too far away from a COM, even though he had been on a prolonged leave of absence. He sat down heavily, not aware of where the Vulcan sat. He tried to still the trembling of his hands as he inserted the wafer. James Kirk's face filled the screen and McCoy felt his tears flow before he had a chance to will them to cease. Jim was smiling and calm, with the look he wore when he was trying to be his kindest to a "country doctor," he called his friend. "Hey, Bones. I hope this tape finds you well and enjoying Joanne and the Grandkids. I'm sorry I couldn't stay around to watch them grow up with you, but I told you that was not to be. I feel my time is coming soon, Bones. I don't know how I know, but I do. You know I always go with my hunches. You were the best friend I could ever have wished for and I know I told you that. Finally, I found enough sense to tell you and Spock everything you meant to me. I did not want to die without you knowing. Everything I ever accomplished on the Enterprise was because you two were behind me, sometimes beating up on me, but always there when I needed you. Thank-you, my friend." "This tape is to get you off of your ass and out of your doldrums. I know you. You have started to drink again and you are sitting somewhere vegetating. Do something, Bones. Keep making a difference. The Federation, Starfleet, Joanna, and Spock, all need you to be there for them. You can be the most cantankerous, obstreperous coot, in the world. They need that from you. I made a tape for Spock, too. I know him as well as I know myself, maybe better. I want him to remarry and not be alone. He needs you, Bones, to support him in this. He is not betraying me. He needs to go forward, like I want you to do. Please, don't stop being his friend, or my friend. I was always so happy when you two were battling and playing your, "I can't stand him," game. Be there for him now, when he needs you the most. He'll be there for you. I know he will, if you let him. " "I love you, you nut. Thanks for being like a father and brother all in one for me. Oh, by the way if Joanna ever lets you hang out with your Grandkids unescorted, keep them away from the Romulan ale, the dives, and the bordellos you took me to. It's probably why I turned out to be such a profligate sinner. It was all your fault." Kirk laughed and turned around to look away from the screen for a moment. "That's Spock. He's waking up. I think I'll go wear him out again. You know working on the computer makes me horny." Then he smiled lasciviously, "On second thought, everything including breathing makes me horny, since Spock. Take care of each other, Bones and don't ever forget that I loved you." He reached forward and turned off the screen. McCoy sat and let the tears flow until no more came. Spock sat silently at his side until he was dry eyed once again. They talked until the wee hours of the morning. The news brief read: "Dr. Leonard H. McCoy stood beside Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda at the Vulcan marriage ceremony today, when Spock of the Clan T'Pau, heir to Sarek, wed T'Lara of the Clan T'xONu in a traditional ceremony on the red sands of Vulcan. Many will recall that Leonard H. McCoy is now the Admiral in charge of the Medical wing of Starfleet. He has worked wonders in his short tenure to change the training of the Starfleet medical corps to meet the challenges of the ever expanding Federation. Ambassador Spock is the former Bondmate of Admiral James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. They were instrumental in saving the planet Earth, twice. Their last noteworthy accomplishment together, was the Klingon/ Federation peace accord at Camp Khittomer. Admiral Kirk died tragically, shortly after, aboard the Enterprise B, saving that ship from certain destruction. This reporter voices the hopes and dreams of billions by saying, Live long and Prosper, Spock and T'Lara of Vulcan, and Admiral Leonard H. McCoy, and Thank-you from all of us. 8 1