As you neared one month aboard the Enterprise, you became more familiar with the ship’s new interior. You figured after being blown up again and again, the ship was constantly being redone and upgraded. McCoy helped you become familiar with the ship and crew again. A few days of each week, you were invited to his quarters after dinner. You two got through a bottle of whatever he had stockpiled as you caught up on each other’s lives.
The ship had not run into any harsh situations. You knew of a few missions where Jim, Leonard, and Spock had gone down to a planet’s surface but there was little to no conflict on those missions. You got to hear about all the “god damn antics” Jim and Spock pulled on their missions from McCoy.
As for your work in medical bay, you were often the medical officer while McCoy was on these missions or taking care of Jim. While there wasn’t much work to do since they had not run into any real danger yet, you made sure all the reports were finished and all of medical bay was stocked. Since the nurses found out you and McCoy knew each other, they decided to tell you stories about him while he was away. These ranged from him getting smashed and locking himself out of his office to letting all the nurses get a great view of Jim’s ass while Jim reluctantly got his vaccines.
One night, while you and McCoy were about halfway done with a bottle of something very strong, you brought up his ex-wife. You were friends with him while he was married to her, and it was never obvious to you what happened between them. You thought the best time to ask would be while he’s had a little to drink.
“Well, she took everythin’ and left. There’s not much to say there. An’ I really wish I could be respectful to her but honest to god, (y/n), she’s the biggest bitch I ever met. But she’s watchin’ our daughter while I’m away. At least she lets me see her.”
“How is your daughter? I haven’t seen her since she was barely learning how to walk.”
“She’s amazin’. She’s 6 now, top of her class. Then again, I bet every parent says that about their first grader.”
“Time really does—“
Your response was cut short as the Enterprise lurched and brought you and McCoy down. The bottle and glasses slid off the table and shattered on the ground. You felt the shattered pieces of glass hit your face.
“What the fuck?” McCoy asked. A red light started flashing by the door, meaning the Enterprise was in extreme danger.
“Attention, I need all personnel to their stations. I repeat, all personnel to their stations. Commander Spock and Doctor McCoy to the bridge.”
Jim’s voice echoed through the Enterprise. McCoy groaned and helped you up from the ground. Your leg cramped and gave out under your weight. Luckily you caught the table in time to stop yourself from falling.
“You alright (y/n)?” he asked.
“It’s fine, just get to the bridge. I got Med bay covered.”
Your grimace didn’t convince McCoy, and in any other situation, he would give you hell for it. But the Jim needed him on the bridge. He helped you out into the hallway and parted ways with you there.
Your pain wasn’t going to stop you from getting to Med bay. Although it was a painful trip, you made it. Nurses were running around, already receiving injured crew members. You helped the best you could, seeing the crew members with more serious injuries.
Person after person, you listened to their cries, screams, and moans. You took pieces of debris as large as your hands out of crew members and stitched them up to the best of your abilities. The ship still jerked; you could hear explosions nearby. The ship seemed to be holding up well enough, but you still worried that this would be your last day on the Enterprise. The pain in your leg was dulled by the adrenaline. The red lights still flashed above, which occasionally became your only source of light.
You didn’t know how long it had been before the explosions stopped. The Enterprise leveled out, and for the first time, you were relieved to hear Jim’s voice over the intercom.
“The danger has been eliminated. We are three days away from the nearest Starbase, so that’s where we’ll be heading. Just sit tight.”
With a sigh of relief, you took the next crew member. Although the ship is not in any more danger, there was still a steady flow of incoming injured crew members. You hoped that McCoy would be back soon. Your hands were starting to cramp and your head starting to pound. The pain in your leg became sharp as the adrenaline wore off.
“What do we got here?” You heard McCoy’s voice and looked up from your stitching to see him with a nurse and another patient. As much as you wanted to go to him—to find comfort in him—you needed to finish working on the members.
Hours of blood and sweat later, you had finally finished. Your only comfort was hearing your friend’s voice nearby. The crew members took up all of the beds, chairs, and makeshift cots you had. Your limp was unapparent to you until you walked into McCoy’s office.
“Are you hurt?” McCoy asked, attempting to help you into a chair.
“No, it’s fine.”
“That ain’t fine darlin’.”
You slumped into the chair and sighed.
“This is from a while ago, nothing I can’t handle.”
It took McCoy a while to remember what had happened to you so many years ago.
“Dammit, (y/n), what happened to ya?”
“You know what happened.”
“Not the whole thing,” he looked distressed, resting his elbows on his desk, “You left after that. I didn’t hear from you at all.”
“Listen, you know what’s in the reports. That’s all that happened. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
You didn’t like remembering what happened to you five years ago. It was more than just an injury; it was torture. You couldn’t think about the Enterprise for a year afterwards. Flashbacks plagued you almost every night. No medication really helped—not that you actively took it anymore. Your only friend on the ship had seen worse, and you knew that. You couldn’t let him know that you had to leave after what happened to you.
“Disappoint me? What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“Leaving after just an injury? I couldn’t step back on this ship but I didn’t want you knowing I’m that weak.”
McCoy looked at you, confused and hurt. You weren’t sure what to say, and you could see that he wasn’t either.
“That isn’t weak. There’s more to this that you aren’t tellin’ me. But we’ve had a long day so get some rest. I’ll finish some of the paperwork.”
You left without saying goodbye. The halls were a mess; wires poked out of the walls and sparks were flying out of the oddest places. You were relieved to see that most of the cabins, including yours, had gone unscathed.
That night—or day, you weren’t really sure what time it was and you didn’t care to check—you couldn’t sleep. Explosions flashed through your head, ones fresh in your mind and ones five years old. You twisted and turned as the memories replayed themselves over and over. The heaviness in your chest and the stabbing pain in your thigh brought you out of bed. You did the only thing you could in this situation: drink.
McCoy looked up from his PADD. He had been doing reports for almost three hours. He didn’t realize that the Gamma shift had come and their medical officer had been seeing patients. His weariness burned in his eyes, but he refused to go to sleep. This day had been one of the worst days he’d seen. He was just grateful they made it out alive.
One thing was bugging him and that was you. He read your reports when the incident first happened; he still had it on file. He read it after he finished his reports and there was nothing indicating that there was more to it. But he knew you, he knew there had to be more. You were dedicated to the stars. An injury like that, although traumatic and long-term, would not have stopped you from your dreams. Yet you disappeared from the Enterprise, and from him, for five years.
McCoy picked up his PADD and left his office, nodding to the Gamma shift members as he left. He wasn’t going to his room; he was going to check on you. He knew you wouldn’t tell him everything, but you looked like you were in pain when you left.
You heard a knock on your door. The liquid in your glass dripped as you tried to get up with it in hand. You didn’t notice it. You were met with the tired face of McCoy.
“Do ya have a radar or somethin’ that can sense when people are drinkin’?” you slurred.
“Alright,” he said, taking the glass out of your hand, “That’s enough, (y/n). You need sleep.”
He set the glass down on your table and guided you to your bed. The sheets were balled up in a corner from your tossing.
“I can’t sleep. It hurts.”
You plopped down on the edge of your bed, frowning. McCoy crouched down in front of you and pushed the sweat soaked hair out of your face.
“Why does it hurt?”
“My leg feels like shit. And I keep thinkin’ of the explosions, and the torture and my chest starts hurtin’.”
He didn’t think to question that now. You were obviously in a lot of pain.
“Would it help if I stayed with you?” He asked. He probably had an extra blanket he could throw on the ground to sleep on.
“Yes…” you said, feeling defeated. You didn’t want him to know about your nightmares.
“Alright, darlin’ I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get somethin’ I can sleep on.”
You were confused. “Where’s my bed?” You quickly turned around to see that you were sitting on it.
“I thought you were stayin’ with me. My bed’s right here.”
He didn’t want to argue with you, even though he could see you had been sweating a lot.
He took off his uniform shirt and started to unravel your sheets.
“That’s a good idea,” you said, staring at McCoy’s black undershirt. You proceeded to try to take off your dress, only to get stuck in it.
You could hear his sigh and feel his hands help you take your dress off. You were wearing a small pair of shorts and a sports bra underneath.
You smiled and fell back onto the bed. McCoy covered you up and slipped onto the other side. He tried to give you your space, but you turned around and threw your arm and leg over him. Shortly after you started snoring. He hoped you would be okay. Hopefully tomorrow would be better.