Work Text:
Amo, Amas, Amok
by Nesabj
Chris Chapel set her feet on the mat, adjusted her hold slightly, and pressed her advantage in height and weight. Her adjustment was answered immediately by the slighter, but equally strong communications officer. Sometimes Chapel wondered whether the two friends had been sparring together for too long. There seemed to be few surprises left in their matches.
There was a hint of strain in her voice as she continued her tale. "So, then McCoy turned back to me, with the captain and Mr. Spock standing right there, and he said, "Will you excuse us, Nurse?" I flashed him a dirty look, but he clammed up until I'd left Sickbay. I had just finished helping to patch up the captain, and had seen our first officer practically laugh out loud. Did he think I wouldn't notice? Honestly, Nyota, I hate it when Leonard gets officious on me. Despite what we had just been through, he dismissed me without a second thought. Sometimes I really wonder what I'm doing on the Enterprise.”
Just as she began to make her next move, she found herself flying headfirst over Nyota Uhura's back. Taken by surprise, she landed with a thud that nearly knocked the wind out of her. Chapel lay back on the mat for a moment catching her breath. She smiled to herself as Uhura reached down to help her to her feet. Just when she thought that she had everything figured out…the rules changed. That was one reason why she was still on the Enterprise.
"You okay, Chris?" Uhura's warm brown eyes searched for signs of injury.
"Fine. Just had the wind knocked out of me for a second. That was a nice move, Ny."
"My move didn't throw you, Chris. You lost your focus for a minute. You probably shouldn't get mad at your boss when you're sparring." The sympathy in Uhura's voice was palpable. "No matter how much he might deserve it."
Uhura looked at her friend. She more than anyone understood the frustration that Chris Chapel felt. Though Uhura knew that Dr. McCoy was probably one of the most able doctors in Starfleet, she had seen his tongue too often run ahead of his brain. She rarely bore the brunt of the doctor's verbal stings, but once or twice she had been a target. It had not been pleasant. Even Captain Kirk was not spared the lashing of McCoy's tongue. And when Mr. Spock and the doctor went at it, Uhura had learned to duck. Fast and low.
Still, they all knew the goodness of the man, the skill in his hands and heart. They also knew the love that he felt for them, and that it was mostly fear that drove his barbs. Fear that one day he'd fall short. Fear that one of them, most likely their brave and reckless captain, would push McCoy's skills past the ability to heal, and someone he loved would die because he was unable to save him. So they ignored a lot.
Uhura reflected that Chris Chapel, who worked with McCoy, healed with him, grieved with him, bore most of his stings. He often chose to forget that she was a Doctor of Biochemistry, that she far surpassed his skill in the laboratory, that she lacked only a few academic courses and some practical experience to receive board certification for her MD. She allowed him this. She had her own reasons. Certainly some of those had to do with her respect for his skills, and an understanding of his fears. She shared those fears. Uhura thought that it was ironic that though the medical staff was discouraged from treating their own family, here on the Enterprise they found themselves treating family all the time. No wonder the doctor was so irascible. No wonder her friend Chris could seem so stiff and reserved at her job.
Uhura rotated her neck to loosen up a stiff muscle. She too had recently spent more than a few double shifts at her board. She had sent and received some pretty unusual comm messages between the ship and Starfleet Command, not to mention the ones between Vulcan and the Enterprise. Long hours spend bending over a comm board meant that stiff neck muscles were the norm for a communications specialist. Normal, maybe, but they still hurt.
"Let's call it a day," Uhura suggested. "I'm due on the bridge in forty minutes. This is the captain's first full shift back on duty and I don't want to be late." She grimaced at that thought. Her captain was a very punctual man and had little patience when his officers were not. "Let's hope things finally stay quiet for all our sakes. I know everyone's complaining that this Vulcan-to-Altair trip is a milk run, but I think its just what we all need right now."
Chapel nodded in agreement. "You and me both, Nyota. I'm going to bed. I never thought I'd ever get off duty. I swear Dr. McCoy sometimes forgets that he's got other nurses. I guess that's a compliment, but those double shifts are getting harder and harder. And these past few days were killers." She eyed Uhura with a twisted grin. The two women looked at each other, treasuring the fact that they could confide in one another, joke, and relax in each other's company.
Together they headed to the benches that ringed their section of the gym and draped towels over their sweat-soaked necks. The privacy locks were always engaged when the two of them worked out, so that they never had to worry about being observed or overheard. Exercise was certainly one reason for their time together in the gym. Both of them were keenly aware of the necessity to stay in peak form. Serving on the Enterprise meant never knowing what came next. Both their lives and the lives of their fellow crew could depend on a split second decision, a quick move, a surprise. Both had been in situations where their opponents had underestimated them. They had worked hard to make sure that would happen.
However, these workout sessions served another even more important function for the two women. Chapel and Uhura were peers. They were two highly skilled and professional women in tough, demanding, often dangerous jobs. In the gym the two of them could let off steam. Talk things out. Sometimes they laughed together. Sometimes they grieved together. They greatly appreciated these times and neither would willingly miss one of their sessions together. The two friends shared as much as they could. Both of them worked in areas where confidentiality was essential and there was a limit to what they could confide. Supremely professional, they never crossed over the line, but nudging up against it gave them both a great deal of comfort.
As they toweled off, Chris Chapel's thoughts turned once again to the events of the week past. She and Uhura had shared some thoughts on the things that they had witnessed in common. Neither of them understood completely what had happened, but they had both observed the frightening disintegration of their Vulcan first officer's personality. Chapel had been the target of a food tray that Mr. Spock had thrown at her. They had also learned that the very private Mr. Spock had a very Vulcan bride.
Chapel wished that she could confide in her friend more of what she had witnessed in Sickbay. She had thought for one terrible moment that Captain Kirk was dead. The nurse had not been able to share that moment with Uhura. She was only able to confirm that the captain had been injured on Vulcan, since that had been common knowledge on the ship. Medical privacy was something that Christine Chapel held sacred.
Chapel wished that she could tell her friend how terrified she's been when she arrived in Sickbay following a terse summons from Dr. McCoy. Captain Kirk lay sprawled on a diagnostic bed, head lolling, chest frighteningly still. His skin had been gray and cold, his neck a mass of bruises. Blood oozed from a slash across his chest. The nurse thought that he looked as close to death as a person could be without an autopsy.
Icy cold horror washed over her. She remembered the kindness of this man who had lied to Starfleet Command to spare the reputation of her fiancé, Roger Korby. She owed the captain more than she could ever repay. Without his complicity, the memory of Roger Korby would have been disgraced. Captain Kirk had allowed him to die with his honor and integrity unquestioned. That would have meant so much to the real Roger, and it meant everything to her. Personally, the captain had always treated her with respect. He had urged her to stay onboard the Enterprise, and had made her feel valued and important as a member of his crew. Captain Kirk could not be dead. He had always seemed invincible. If he died, her life on the Enterprise would die too.
Together, frantically, nurse and doctor had hooked him up to complete life support, working feverishly to bring back some indications of independent life. There were remnants of a neural blocker in the captain's system that interfered with their attempts to stabilize him. It was preventing the captain from breathing without assistance. McCoy searched a frighteningly long time to find the correct combination of drugs to counteract the drug's effect. The memory of Kirk's first tortured, wheezing breath without life support chilled her still.
When Chapel removed the captain's torn and bloody uniform she had discovered severe burns on his back. Purple and black bruises covered most of his body. Some of those bruises were in the shape of finger marks. It was clear that someone had beaten the captain nearly to death. Chapel had to damp down her rage at the abuse this man had undergone at the hands of some unknown assailant. And that didn’t explain the neural blocker. McCoy was silent as he and Chapel worked together. He had been on the planet with his captain, but he gave no clue to what had happened.
Surprisingly, Mr. Spock had remained on Vulcan after the captain and McCoy beamed up. It had become an unwritten rule of the Enterprise that whenever the captain found himself in Sickbay, his first officer was at his side. Spock's obvious friendship and affection for his captain transcended the duties of a first officer. It was one of the things that seemed to most humanize the stiff and formal Vulcan. This time, however, he was nowhere to be seen. Even more puzzling to Chapel had been the captain's insistence on greeting Spock on his feet when the Vulcan finally did beam back from his home planet. He acted as if nothing in the world was wrong with him, which Chapel knew could not possibly be how he felt.
Then, there was Spock's response when he first saw Captain Kirk. He smiled, no, he practically laughed out loud, grabbed the captain's arms, and came perilously close to hugging him. How completely out of character, she thought. One more thing bothered her. Spock came back from Vulcan without his wife. Chapel couldn't imagine what that could mean.
Then, the doctor dismissed her without a word of explanation. No wonder Chapel lost focus. Too much strangeness in Sickbay, too many unanswered questions. She simply could not process all that had happened. The doctor allowed Captain Kirk to get out of his sickbed when he was clearly not recovered from his ordeal. Mr. Spock had exhibited more emotion in two minutes that she had ever observed in him. She had been tempted to lose more than just her focus in Sickbay, but she was too much of a professional to blow up in front of her commanding officers. So, she had taken Uhura and her frustration down to the gym for a workout.
Uhura had gone willingly, gladly sacrificing an hour of precious sleep. She had seen the toll the last week had taken on all of them, but it had been particularly hard on Chris Chapel. This situation with Spock and the captain had pushed all her buttons. Poor Chris had been put through the ringer, watching Mr. Spock fade away, day by day, only to have the ship diverted to Vulcan. Chris had been on the bridge when they had all found out that he was married. Uhura hadn't dared to look at her friend when that piece of information had been disclosed.
She knew just how painful that moment must have been for Chris. Her cool, collected, brilliant, friend harbored a not so secret love for the Vulcan first officer. Chris had confided in her about the embarrassing declaration she had made to Spock under the influence of the Psi 2000 virus. Chapel had tried to make it sound as if her passion had ebbed with the virus, but Uhura knew better. She knew all about unrequited love herself and she ached for her friend as the image of that chilly Vulcan woman "awaiting her husband at the appointed place" imprinted itself on all their minds.
There was something more, too. Something that Chris had been unable to talk about. Uhura thought it had to do with the captain, but Chris refused to say more than that the captain had been injured on Vulcan, but was fine now. Uhura really didn't understand Chapel's feelings for Captain Kirk. There seemed to be a loyalty there that went far beyond a crewmember's feeling for a commanding officer. So far, Chris had not shared those feelings with her friend. Nyota did not push her. She just made sure that Chris Chapel knew that she was there for her, when and if she ever felt like talking. And, she was going to bring up her medical training again. Dr. Chapel would be a lot harder for McCoy to dismiss than Nurse Chapel.
"Let's talk later tonight, Chris. Dinner for me, breakfast for you."
"Sounds good. See you off shift, Nyota. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do."
"I guess that means I can't do anything."
The swat of Chapel's towel was her only answer as the two women walking smiling into the shower.