Work Text:
“The kind of radiance you only have at 17
She'll know the way, and then she'll say she got the map from me”
Taylor Swift feat. Phoebe Bridges, “Nothing New”
/
It’s like looking in a funhouse mirror: seeing your own reflection, but with a twist.
Chris wears her bleached white hair in a messy bob, CC in a swirled beehive. Chris wears her uniform with pants, CC with a miniskirt. Chris wonders if her own face is as transparent as CC’s, or if she’s learned to hide her feelings better. It’s hard to believe that they were literally the same person once, before a transporter accident in medical school. At first introduction, they tell strangers that they’re twins. In a way, it’s true.
And now CC’s leaving for the Enterprise, about to take over Chris’s old post. Only in Starfleet could this sort of thing be part of the job, Chris thinks, shaking her head.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” she mutters, “And for Korby, of all people.”
CC looks up from the stack of powder-blue dresses she’s folding into her suitcase with a flash of indignation. “Please don’t speak of Roger like that. Just because you’re afraid of commitment, doesn’t mean I have to be.”
That stings, but Chris doesn’t let it show. “The guy’s a windbag. I mean, I want him found safe as much as the next person, but he’s still not good enough for you.”
“He’s a genius,” CC retorts, snapping the fasteners shut on her suitcase, but the self-conscious downward flicker of her gaze lets Chris know she’s not the only one with doubts. “And regardless, he could be in danger. I’ll never have a moment’s peace until I find out what happened.”
Chris bows her head in silent apology and understanding. She wouldn’t phrase it like that herself, but the need to diagnose illness, to solve puzzles, to fix things, is hardwired into both of them. No wonder CC needs to find Korby.
“I guess I’m … a bit worried, that’s all,” Chris mutters gruffly from her curled-up position on the bottom bunk. “Shipboard service can be dangerous. Especially on a ship like the Enterprise.”
“I know.” CC sits down on the edge of the bunk, her face softening. “I’ve kept all your messages. Believe me, I’m going into this with my eyes open. But don’t you know that it’s because of you?”
“Me?” Chris sits up abruptly. “What do you mean?”
“You inspired me,” CC says, in that achingly sincere way only CC dares to speak these days. “When you signed up for the front during the Klingon War, I was terrified. I couldn’t see myself doing that, even if the self was you, do you know what I mean?” The transporter twins share a rueful smile. “And I suppose I felt relieved, in a selfish way, because if you were going, I didn’t have to. But the messages you wrote … ”
CC runs her hand along her suitcase. With all her things packed, the little grey and white prefab dorm room suddenly looks a lot bigger and emptier. Chris is actually the tidier one; wartime service teaches you to pack light. She never thought she’d miss the smell of CC’s hairspray until now.
“It sounded like awful work, but work with a purpose. You were saving lives, Chris, making a difference where no one else could. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known, and for Roger’s sake - and my own - I want to learn to be at least a little like you.”
Chris’ eyes sting. She plays it off, cursing and wiping her eyes: “Aw, look what you did, girl. Got my mascara running.”
“So is mine.” They reach for the tissue box on the night stand, sniff, and wipe their eyes at the same time, which makes them let out identical laughs.
“And hey,” says Chris, “One more bit of advice before you go?”
“Yes?”
“Stay away from Commander Spock, okay? I know brown-eyed geniuses are our weak spot, but believe me, that one’s not worth the trouble.”
CC gasps. “Christine Claire Chapel! Need I remind you I’m engaged?”
She flashes her diamond ring in Chris’ face. Chris bats her hand away and snorts: “Yeah, yeah. So was he at the time, sort of. Didn’t stop us.”
CC blushes furiously. Chris smirks. It’s too easy to scandalize her sister, especially since she remembers being this way once too. CC will have to outgrow it soon enough, if she’s going to be a nurse on a ship run by James Kirk.
“That’s more than I ever wanted to know about your love life, thank you very much.”
“Just … don’t let him break your heart, okay?” It’s Chris’ turn to blush, startling them both with the most CC-like thing she’s said in a long time. “Or Korby. Or anyone.”
CC considers this earnestly, then smiles and tucks a loose curl behind Chris’ ear. “I’ll try,” she says, “But only if you promise not to lock yours away. It’ll never beat the way it’s meant to, you know, unless it’s at risk of being broken.”
Chris swallows and looks away. She suspects, though she’d never admit it, that CC has it backwards about courage. Her timid, old-fashioned sister might actually be the braver of the two.
She also wonders - and the thought horrifies her - if the Enterprise crew, especially Spock, might like CC better. But no - ever since the accident that created them, they’ve both known that comparing each other like this does neither of them any favours. Chris is Chris and CC is CC; that’s the only way the two of them will stay sane. CC must be worrying about the same thing, from her own perspective; taking Chris’ place can’t be easy. Chris already knows one person, at least, who will look after her sister on her behalf.
“Give Nyota a hug from me, okay?”
“I will.”
“Good.” Chris clears her throat. “Now get out of here, or you’ll miss your shuttle.”
“Of course.” CC dabs her eyes one last time and holds out her arms. “Do take care of yourself, dear.”
“See you next shore leave, sis.”
They hug each other tight, not caring that CC’s beehive hair came out lopsided and Chris’ white shirt stained with tears.
The last thing they see before the dorm room doors slid shut is each other’s identical shaky smiles.