Chapter Text
Askew
Starfleet's promotional holo-vids would never openly admit it, but life on a starship was mostly routine. Even life on the USS Enterprise, despite everything its reputation might say to the contrary. But it was the truth – only a small percentage of the time spent aboard was actually taken up by space battles, chases at warp-speed, fire fights and away missions that ended in adrenaline-laden attempts to escape yet another new hostile species.
The biggest part of life on a starship? That was boring negotiations, duty shifts during which nothing happened, and watching the stars fly by as they sped through empty space at maximum warp. In one word, it was routine.
And even the biggest adventurer, even a Captain who normally seemed to attract trouble like a magnet, eventually succumbed to this routine. Even James Tiberius Kirk.
So it was no surprise that the day which marked the most dramatic cut in Jim's life, the day that was going to impact far more on him than the destruction of the USS Kelvin and his father's death all these years ago, started out like nothing but yet another ordinary day. A day stuffed so full of routines that Jim could have gone through it with his eyes closed.
Jim got up at 7:00, rolling out of bed in time with his alarm.
He shaved, brushed his teeth, took a shower, and dressed in a clean uniform.
Then he went to mess hall to get his customary breakfast – one coffee (black, no sugar), two eggs (sunny side up), two slices of toast, no fruit (because Bones wasn't around to nag him about healthy food and vitamins, and how many horrible ways he could die if he ate the wrong stuff).
At 7:45am, Jim arrived at the Bridge and went through gamma shift report. Which was just as boring as the previous day's report had been. And once all officers on duty during alpha shift were at their post and shift change had been completed, Jim sat down in the Captain's chair and went to work yet another routine shift.
He read reports.
He signed off on requests from Engineering.
He watched stars zip by on the main screen, warp travel distorting them into bright yellow lines.
He had Chekov make a ship wide announcement concerning some upgrades Engineering was planning that might influence artificial gravity on D-Deck for an hour.
He read some more reports.
He swiveled in his chair, just because he could.
Finally, seven hours after he had stepped off the turbolift this morning, Jim broke the routine. Giving the conn to Spock, he stood up, straightened his shirt, and went to visit Bones in Medical for a not-quite-routine vaccination the good doctor had finally cornered him into getting.
And that was when Jim started to realize just how wrong everything suddenly was.
Bones wasn't anywhere in sight when Jim stepped through the doors into the main room of Sickbay. And while that in itself wasn't unusual, because Bones was always bustling about somewhere, it was unusual because the doctor had let Jim know in no uncertain terms that if he wasn't in Sickbay for his vaccination shot at 15:00 hours on the dot, he was going to chase Jim down on the Bridge and give him the injection right there, and not in the neck this time.
Jim knew his best friend well enough to know that if struck in the wrong mood, Bones was going to be fully capable of forcing Jim to drop his pants on the bridge in the middle of alpha shift, and getting a vaccination shot into his butt in front of all his senior officers was not a chance Jim was going to take. So after a lot of evading and artful dodging, Jim had admitted defeat and was voluntarily going to get his shot. He would have expected Bones to be waiting for him, hypo in hand and a triumphant grin on his face.
Instead, all Jim saw was a row of empty biobeds and Nurse Chapel, who was entering something into a PADD at her desk.
"Bones?" Jim called into the room, hoping his friend would hear and hurry the hell up to get this over and done with.
The nurse looked up at him, a slight frown on her face, but she got up from her chair and knocked on the closed door to Bones' small office.
"Doctor? The Captain is here for his vaccination."
Jim looked at the closed door in slight confusion. Bones never closed that door, not unless it was one of those times where normal shift rotations didn't matter anymore and he was on duty for so long that he needed to catch and hour or two of sleep in between. But while it was out of the ordinary, one closed office door still wasn't enough to make Jim realize that anything was wrong. Bones was his best friend after all, if there was a particular reason for this secrecy, Jim was going to find out soon enough.
The metaphorical fist in the gut that left absolutely no doubt as to the fact that something was seriously, horribly wrong, was when the office door opened a few seconds after Chapel's knock and M'Benga stepped out.
M'Benga wasn't supposed to be here.
Oh, he was supposed to be on the ship, all right. And Sickbay was his workplace when he was on shift, so not supposed to be here maybe sounded a little harsh. But the operative words here were on shift. M'Benga and Bones always were on opposing shifts. When one of them had alpha shift, the other was on duty during beta or gamma. They simply weren't on duty at the same time unless an emergency warranted it. There was no emergency that Jim was aware of – and if the Captain wasn't informed about stuff like that anymore, something was clearly wrong with the chain of command – and Jim knew exactly that Bones was supposed to be on duty this alpha shift. Hell, Bones had all but ordered him to be here, so of course he was supposed to be here as well.
M'Benga however didn't seem to notice anything amiss. Seeing Jim, he waved towards one of the empty biobeds with a smile on his face.
"Ah, Captain. Finally. I already thought I had to come to the Bridge to give you that shot. Just sit down for a second, this won't take any time at all."
Jim looked around the room in confusion, wondering where Bones might be. M'Benga was acting as if he had been expecting him when it was Bones who by all means should have seized that opportunity to stab yet another hypo into Jim's neck.
Not that Jim minded being treated by the other doctor. M'Benga had treated him before, and he was a good doctor. Bones wouldn't have recruited him if he weren't. No, what was absolutely wrong about this was that right here, right now, Bones was supposed to be here, yet M'Benga wasn't acting at all as if he had taken over for his colleague.
If Bones had switched shifts for some reason, surely M'Benga would have said something. And if Bones had called in sick, someone would have notified Jim about it. They better have.
"Captain? Are you all right?"
Jim was startled to find that M'Benga was standing right before him, and he hadn't even noticed the doctor approach. A small frown line appeared between his brows as he watched Jim, but half of his attention seemed to be focused on preparing the hypospray he held in his hands. It was obvious that he wasn't sharing the degree of confusion Jim felt right now. In order to finally get some answers, Jim asked the first thing that came to mind.
"Where's Bones?"
Jim flinched as M'Benga gave a small surprised jerk, releasing the hypo into Jim's neck with a little more force, and quite a bit more sting, than strictly necessary for an injection like this.
"Ouch! What, is Bones giving lessons now on how to make this even more painful?"
M'Benga took a small surprised step back, and that frown line between his brows deepened.
"Who?"
And really, two years into their mission Jim would have thought that everyone knew about his nickname for the doctor, especially the medical personnel. He spent enough time here, after all.
"Bones. Doctor McCoy. He's been after me about this vaccination for days. He was supposed to give me the shot today."
Jim didn't know M'Benga well enough to read what was going through his head from the expression on his face alone, but it didn't take a genius to see the look of utter confusion on the doctor's face. Putting the hypospray down on a tray, M'Benga picked up a tricorder.
"Captain, are you sure you're feeling all right?"
"Yes, of course I am. Why do you ask?"
"Because I have been trying to get you to come down here for your vaccination for nearly a week now. And I made today's appointment with you. If you remember, I told you only yesterday that I had to file an official report to Starfleet if you refused to get your vaccination in time before we arrive at the Nubirian colony."
No, Jim didn't remember. He didn't remember at all, because it hadn't been M'Benga. It had been Bones, all along. Jim remembered the grumping and griping, the damn it Jim, it's just an injection, you're acting like a baby and not like a starship captain. He remembered the non-too subtle threats as to where Bones would put the hypo if Jim kept on refusing the necessary injection (threats that had only served to keep Jim's fantasy occupied at night, but that was another story entirely). Never, not once had Jim talked to M'Benga about any of this, and Jim was sure that nobody had threatened him with filing an official report to Starfleet if he didn't comply, either. Bones would never do that. Bones had other means to make Jim comply, other threats that mostly included public embarrassment if Jim remained stubborn. Those worked far better than official threats did, anyway. Most of the things Bones did worked a lot better than if anybody else was going to try the same stuff, and that was something Jim wasn't going to contemplate any further right now.
What mattered was that Jim had an appointment for his vaccination with Bones. Bones had talked him into getting that shot in the first place. So why was M'Benga talking as if they had discussed the matter, and more than once by the sounds of it?
The soft beeping of a tricorder interrupted Jim in his mental ramble, and he non too gently brushed the offending device away. Pushing himself off the biobed, Jim tried to step past M'Benga.
"Where's Bones? I need to talk to him."
A hand clamped around his upper arm, and the infernal tricorder started beeping again as M'Benga started a second attempt at whatever it was he was doing. Jim was getting angry now, angry and also a little worried. It didn't help that M'Benga kept holding him by the arm. Jim didn't like being restrained on a good day, and this was quickly shaping up to be anything but a good day. He brushed off the doctor's arm with more force than necessary, stepping farther away from the bed and looking around Sickbay in the vain hope that Bones was around and he had simply missed him earlier. M'Benga raised his hands as if trying to soothe a frightened animal.
"Captain, you really should sit down. I don't know what happened, but I'd like to examine you more closely."
Jim shook his head. "Not before I talk to Bones."
"Sir, there is nobody by that name here."
Jim shook his head, confusion making way inside of him for a different feeling, something dark and menacing that he couldn't, didn't want to put a name to. Jim forced it down, because there had to be a rational explanation for all this. And if it was somebody's idea of a prank, then there was going to be hell to pay. Because this wasn't funny. At all.
"Stop it! You stop this right now, and that's an order. I want to talk to Doctor McCoy right now."
M'Benga looked unsure, eyes darting to and fro as if he was looking for help.
"Captain, I have no idea who you are talking about."
M'Benga didn't look as if he was joking, but that was the only possibility. He had to be joking, because there was no other rational explanation for the doctor's behavior.
"Doctor Leonard McCoy. You damn well know him! He's my CMO."
M'Benga bit his lip nervously, hand twitching slightly as if he was tempted to raise the tricorder again and continue the examination which Jim had interrupted just moments ago.
"Sir, I am your CMO."
Jim didn't know whether to laugh, or if this was the time when he was going to have to pull rank and threaten dire consequences for the first time. Because while M'Benga was a good doctor, this farce had to end, and right now at that.
Jim just shook his head at him and brushed past the other man towards the nearest communications console. From the corner of his eye he saw Nurse Chapel watch him with wide eyes. And damn it, she couldn't pull this who are you talking about-crap with him, Jim had seen her talk to Bones only yesterday.
Angry now, he slammed his hand down on the console and activated it.
"Computer, locate Doctor Leonard McCoy."
"No crewmember by that name is currently serving aboard the ship. Please specify your inquiry."
Jim's mind was reeling, and his heart was beating fast in his chest. It couldn't be. If this was a prank, it was the most elaborate Jim had ever seen. But they weren't going to get him with it. He knew Bones was aboard the ship, trying to make him believe that he wasn't was simply a ridiculous idea.
"Computer, list current posting of Starfleet officer Lieutenant Commander Leonard H. McCoy, Starfleet identification number 0422-16-09B, authorization code Kirk 77429Alpha."
"Invalid inquiry," the computer politely informed him. "Invalid identification number. There is no record of a Leonard H. McCoy in the database."
Jim took a step back from the console, staring at it as if it was going to make sense if only he stared hard enough.
It wasn't the wrong identification number. Jim knew Bones' Starfleet ID as well as he knew his own, had known it ever since their first year at the Academy. This had to be a mistake.
"Computer, match Starfleet identification number 0422-16-09B, authorization code Kirk 77429Alpha."
"Invalid inquiry. Starfleet identification number is invalid. No entry in the database for this identification number. Please specify your inquiry."
A hand fell heavily onto Jim's shoulder and he spun around, hands automatically going up as if to defend himself. It was M'Benga once more, standing too close for comfort, his face set in a serious expression. What worried Jim even more than the tricorder the doctor was brandishing again were the two security officers standing behind M'Benga. Jim had no idea when the doctor had called them, but they were there, and it was quite obvious that they were watching their Captain carefully.
This whole thing had stopped being funny a while ago, and if it didn't stop soon Jim was going to initiate the first court martials of his career as a Captain.
"Doctor…"
"Captain, I need you to come with me now. You're showing signs of erratic behavior and delusional symptoms. I need to examine you and determine what caused this."
Jim shook his head, taking a step back. He did notice that both security officers were watching his every move attentively, as if he was going to bolt any moment now. But he was still the Captain, and he was most certainly not going to run away aboard his own ship. Squaring his shoulders, Jim looked M'Benga straight in the eyes.
"I'm not going to go anywhere until I've spoken to Doctor McCoy."
M'Benga looked pained, as if Jim's words were confirmation of some dreadful truth he had been trying to deny up until this point.
"Captain, there is no Doctor McCoy here."
"Of course there is! Damn it, I talked to him only yesterday. I know you talked to him yesterday when he came on duty for alpha shift and you handed over from gamma."
The doctor shook his head with a sigh. "I was on alpha shift for the entire week, sir. Ramirez had gamma yesterday, I took over from him. There is no Doctor McCoy, or a Doctor Bones aboard the Enterprise. There never has been. You heard the computer, there isn't a Doctor McCoy in all of Starfleet."
Jim was still shaking his head, even though he knew exactly how pathetic it had to look.
"No."
"Yes," M'Benga said, his voice too soft, the tone too understanding, and altogether too unlike how Bones would have handled a near freak-out by Jim. "I'm telling the truth, Captain. That's why I need you to come with me and let me examine you. We need to find out what's wrong."
Jim would have laughed, if hysterical laughter wouldn't have been the final nail in the coffin that was going to make M'Benga declare him insane and delusional. M'Benga had just told him, and repeatedly at that, that he had never heard of Bones before. There was no record of Leonard McCoy in Starfleet's database. And yet Jim knew it couldn't be. He remembered how he had talked to his best friend in this very room, less than twenty hours ago. Jim knew for a fact that Bones existed. He knew it because for the past five years, he had been the only constant in Jim's life. Jim knew for a fact that Bones existed, because a world without Bones wasn't something he thought he could imagine anymore.
And now that was exactly what M'Benga told him. There was no Bones.
Wrong didn't even begin to describe it.