Sky (skyblue_reverie) wrote,

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Trek Fic: The Walrus Did Beseech (Part 48 of TTOMT, Pike/McCoy, NC-17)

Title: The Walrus Did Beseech (Part 48 of To Talk of Many Things)
Author: mga1999 and skyblue_reverie
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek Reboot (aka AOS, ST XI, etc.), Pike/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: Around 3500
Summary: The continuing correspondence of... yeah, you know the drill.

Click on the gorgeous banner by the awesome fanarts_series for series masterlist with links to all prior parts:

To: Leonard McCoy (
From: Philip Boyce (
Date sent: Saturday 2260.334

Dear Leonard,

Thank you for your kind words about my divorce. It really has been a long time coming despite what Chris thinks. I’m fine actually. In some ways it’s a relief that it’s over. We have both wanted different things for about ten years now. And I know Chris thinks that there should be some magical compromise, but the simple fact is there’s not. I was not happy on Earth. I belong in the stars as much as Chris does. Allen on the other hand likes his feet set firmly on the ground. Always has. He never minded being on another planet for awhile or a space station, but he’s never liked ship life. He was happiest on Earth and now he can have that. We can both have what we want without the guilt if that makes sense.

Now, don’t let this scare you like I know it is scaring Chris to death right now. I’m sure he’s got in his head that since you are the same way, you like your feet planted on the ground, that it’s inevitable for the same to happen to you two. I tried to discuss it with him last week and he’s just not ready to listen. I half expect him at some point to order me back to Earth to ‘save my goddamn marriage’ as he so kindly ‘drops’ in our conversations as often as he can. He also didn’t like when I turned the tables on him and asked him if he’d resign and stay on Earth never to leave again if you asked him to. He was not happy when I said that. In fact we had quite a fight that ended with him storming out of my quarters. I felt bad about it later and we talked. He told me that you would never ask him to do that, and he’s probably right. The problem is, Allen did. In fact Allen gave me an ultimatum that I had to stay or it was over.

Despite what Chris thinks, it wasn’t an easy decision. I do love Allen. I will always love him. We raised four amazing children together and we had a good life, but neither of us wants that same life again. I don’t know if Chris ever told you this or not, but I would have agreed to stay on Earth, not go with Chris on the Exeter if we could have more children. I always wanted more kids. Allen didn’t. He was done. I tried to compromise, and maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. But I also know I wouldn’t have been happy on Earth. The kids made me happy being there, and maybe that shows that there was just something fundamentally wrong with our relationship in the first place if I wasn’t happy just with him. I don’t know.

You and Chris are not the same as Allen and I. For one thing, you have the age difference working in your favor. Chris will be ready to settle down on Earth and despite what you may fear, he’ll be happy. He’ll be ready after another tour on the Exeter. Heck, in another tour or three tours I’m sure I'll be ready to retire, but not yet. Not when I finally have the freedom to stay on a ship now that my kids are grown and happy. Ten or fifteen years is a long time to be miserable in a marriage where two people want entirely different things. It wasn’t fair for either of us to keep holding on. It really is for the best.

I’m sure Chris isn’t too happy about the company I am keeping either. Or the plans I’ve made for Risa. The other day he asked me if I was a ‘pod person’ and I told him he was watching too many classic movies. I know your divorce was very different than mine will be, but I’m sure you can understand that you are never the same person after. Nor are you ever the same with any new relationship. Maybe it is part of a mid-life crisis, I’m not blind to that. I know it will take time for Chris to see that this is really for the best. Again, I am just sorry this is has set him into such an emotional tailspin when you two are so close to getting married. For that, I am truly, truly sorry, Len.

Now that I’ve talked your ear off, I will move on to other subjects. Let’s start with Chris’s new regimen. Surprisingly this hasn’t thrown him off of that. In fact he seems more focused. He’s still butting heads with me and pushing boundaries, but if he wasn’t I’d be worried about him. He’s exercising more than I would like, but I’m letting it slide because I know that’s how he’s dealing with the stress of everything. I know he needs it. So I just added an extra vitamin booster at his checkup each week and extra carb and protein to his meal plan to compensate. He hasn’t even noticed. He’s right on track. By the time you see him on Risa he should be almost completely off the immuno-suppresant drugs. Now, if he can just quit picking up bugs here and there in the meantime. He has a bit of a cold again, nothing as bad as the previous ones. I can tell the difference in the way his body is fighting it already. That’s a good sign. A very good sign indeed.

I also want to mention that Jim has my full support. I have done what I could in the Admirals’ meetings I’ve been privy to. It’s a shame what they are doing to that boy. He doesn’t deserve it and while I’ve been embroiled in Starfleet politics my entire career, I have never seen so many have such disdain for someone that in all honesty they don’t even know. It truly is unfair.

Well, I have prattled on enough. I hope you had a good Thanksgiving despite everything going on. We had a lovely feast in the Officer’s dining room. Chris cooked, which always makes him immensely happy. I know he was missing you, and is worried about you and Jim. I will keep doing my best to keep him on a steady path.

Thanks for listening, Leonard. It really does help.


To: Christopher Pike (
From: James Kirk (
Date Sent: Monday 2260.336

Dear Chris,

As I’m sure you already know, I’m still waiting for a decision from Starfleet. The more time that passes... Well, let’s just say I’m not feeling very positive about the outcome right now. I’ve been in touch daily with Admiral Barnett, and I can tell by the look on his face that nothing good is happening. It’s been nice talking him with every day, having his support. He tells it like it is but he’s kind of like you in some ways with his philosophy on what’s important and what’s not. I bet he was a rule-breaker just like you were. You’ll have to let me in on some of his exploits so I have something to bring up in the little chats we’ve been having. That is, if I’m still around to have them.

The worst part of all of this… Well, it’s seeing the disappointment on Bones’ face. He won’t tell me he is disappointed of course. He’s been nothing but supportive. Sticking to me like glue. Fussing and bitching at me like always. Trying to make it seem like nothing is going on. He doesn’t know what to do for me. Hell, I don’t even know what to do for me. I just don’t know.

I sat with one of the refugees the day after I woke up. Bones hadn’t cleared me medically yet and I was banned from the bridge by the brass. I was going crazy sitting in my quarters. I wanted to see, needed to see some of the people we’d managed to save. I walked up to the biobed of this tiny little girl. No name. No one with her. Totally alone. Bones says she was about five years old, but she only weighed as much as a two-year-old. She these big brown eyes. Eyes that looked like they were a hundred years old with everything they had seen. Four hours later Bones tried to get me to leave her. Told me I didn’t need to torture myself that way. He knows what that look is from. He and I both know what starvation does to the body, the eyes. I saw so many eyes on Tarsus that looked like that. Watched the life slowly drain out of them.

That night I watched the life slowly drain out of her. There was nothing Bones could do for her. She had been in multiple organ failure since she was brought onboard. I know Bones tried valiantly to save her for me. Not that it was just for me, but he knew how it was affecting me. I think he thought If he could save her, then maybe he could save me from this mess too somehow.

I finally had to pull him away from her. She looked so scared. I didn’t want her to die like that. I had to yell at him to leave her alone. To let her go. I picked her up and leaned up against the wall, slowly sliding down with her in my arms until I was sitting against the wall on the floor. I held her against me. Rocked her back and forth. Soothed her. Christine stood there a moment, tears running down her face and then she cleared the area and pulled the curtain around us. Bones was breathing hard, eyes wild. He finally threw the gloves on the table and stomped out. A few seconds later he was bellowing at someone as he moved on to the next patient.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt her last breath against my neck. Felt her go limp. Felt the life drain out of her. In some ways I felt the life drain out of me too. Like everything was over. I knew I’d screwed up. Knew I’d given the Admirals the ammunition they’ve been waiting for. At the time, I almost didn’t care.

I sat with that little girl in my arms for I don’t even know how long. At some point Bones came back. The rest is a bit fuzzy. He told me later that I wouldn’t let him take her from me. That I insisted on carrying her to the morgue. Insisted she be wrapped in a blanket so she wasn’t cold anymore. She was so cold, Chris.

He sedated me after that. I woke up in my bed in my quarters that afternoon. I found Bones on my couch looking wrecked. Absolutely wrecked. I asked him how many, and he said ‘twelve more’ without even looking at me. So I did what I always do when he’s had a rough day. I went and sat next to him, our shoulders touching. He does the same for me. Sometimes we have a drink in our hands. Sometimes we don’t. And we just sit there. Silently. We both know nothing we can say to each other is going to make anything better. It’s just the fact that we are there together. Anchoring each other somehow. But the truth is that not only is he my anchor, he’s my rudder in the storm. Always guiding me out of whatever mess, whatever dark place I’m in. He’d probably say I’m the anchor around his neck dragging him under, but he’d say it with that sly grin on his face.

What scares me the most about this, Chris, is if they revoke my command, take me off the Enterprise, what’s going to happen to Bones when I’m not here? Who’s going to sit on that couch with him? Who’s going to make sure he eats and gets enough sleep? We’ve taken care of each other for over five years now. It’s second nature. Or as he puts it, ‘we’re goddamn co-dependent’. I know I’ll be okay. I’m used to being alone. I can get used to that again. I’m not sure if Bones can. I know you don’t like this, but he needs me. He needs you too, and I don’t know how to explain us. And shit, this is probably pissing you off. But I promised I wouldn’t hide anything. But I’m going to shut up now.

So that’s where I’m at. No where. Still waiting for word. I’m back on light duty, but still in a lot of pain. The burns aren’t healing like they should and Bones is bitching at me that I’m not resting enough and too stressed to heal properly and fuck, how am I supposed to be sleeping and not stressed right now when my career is probably over? Talk about no win scenarios.

I’ve failed him, Chris. I’ve failed you. I’ve failed everyone. How do I even begin to deal with that?


To: Christopher Pike (
From: James Kirk (
Date Sent: Monday 2260.336

Dear Chris,

An hour ago, right after I wrote to you, I was summoned to my ready room for the brass’s decision. Bones stood nervously in a corner, Spock by my side. I swear to God I thought Bones was going to slump to the floor in relief when he heard their decision. Heard that I was staying on the Enterprise.

Spock said after the vidcomm that he’d leave Bones and I to “engage in celebration,” but neither of us felt like celebrating. Not that I’m not grateful and relieved. But with refugees still dying and tensions so high... I don’t know.

I guess this is where I say thanks to you for your help. When you said you were calling in every favor you could, I didn’t realize your parents would be playing such a huge part in me keeping my command. Admiral Barnett says Willa was instrumental and relentless about using her press contacts... threatening to go public with how they’d been treating me. Telling them what that would do to the recruitment numbers they are so desperately still trying to increase if their ‘poster boy’ was no longer Captain of the Enterprise. I’ve already written her and thanked her, but thanks, Chris. I mean it.

I have more to say, but right now your husband is looming over me. I have a date with a hypospray or two. If I sleep into sometime next week, it’s all his fault.

Thanks, Chris. Truly.


To: Christopher Pike (
From: Leonard McCoy (
Date Sent: Tuesday 2260.337

Dear Chris,

I'm not sure where to start. The outcome of the inquiry, I guess, although you probably knew before Jim or I did.

He got a reprimand placed on his service record. From the wording of the comm he got from Starfleet, it’s pretty damn clear that he's expected to toe the line for the foreseeable future and be a good little Starfleet officer because he won't be treated so leniently next time.

It didn't seem that harsh to me, but Jim tells me that it means he'll probably never make admiral. Not that he wants that, anyway. He'd hate a desk job, and you know better than anyone that unless there are really unusual circumstances, admirals don't serve active duty on starships.

So he apparently weathered that storm without too much trouble. But what worries me is how he's dealing with the situation of the refugees we took onboard. He's not coping well. He never does when he has to see kids suffering, and this is especially bad since it reminds him so much of what we went through himself. But he'll survive. He always does.

Enough dwelling on that. Philip tells me that - much to his surprise - you're keeping to your new regimen. Actually listening to him, even if you still push yourself too hard in the gym.

Damn, that just gave me the mental image of you, just off the treadmill, pulling off your shirt, your muscles rippling and sheened with sweat. I love your body, your flat abs and your toned arms. Even more than that, I love the intense look of concentration you get on your face when you work out. If I were there with you, I'd get on my knees, pull your cock out of your shorts, and swallow you all the way down. Then I'd suck until you lost control and grabbed my head, fucking my throat hard and fast until you came. I'd swallow it all, every drop, and then I'd pull my own dick out - I'd be so hard and leaking by then - and I'd jerk myself off, looking in your eyes the whole time. I'd come all over your bare legs and then I'd lick it all up, tasting your sweat mixed with my come. Shit, baby, gotta touch myself now. Not gonna take long.

God damn, that was good. Haven't come that hard in a while. I needed that.

Darlin, it made me feel so good that you're using my last name in your personal journal. To be honest, I hadn't even thought about the name issue. Do you want us to change our names? Should we hyphenate, Pike-McCoy or McCoy-Pike? I guess both our names are short enough that a combination isn't too unwieldy. I'd be proud to have my name linked to yours, if that's what you want too.

Happy Thanksgiving - I almost forgot to say that. We didn't do too much here. Well, the crew had a celebration and banquet like usual, and all of the refugees who were well enough attended as well. Me and Jim just spent it quietly in sickbay, though. We had a light meal together in my office, but that was it. He didn't say anything but I know he wouldn't have been able to stand seeing a banquet table practically groaning with platters of food - not right now. He knows intellectually that none of it will go to waste, that anything that doesn't get eaten will be recycled by the replicators. But emotionally, he just couldn't handle it right now.

Sorry, darlin, didn't mean to circle back to Jim and that whole situation. On a happier note, Sulu and Chekov have finally figured out that they're both nuts about each other. Sulu was on the away team with Jim when he had that run-in with the Romulan warbirds, and I guess Chekov was so upset by Sulu's near escape that he pretty much barricaded himself in his quarters, only coming out for duty shifts. He wouldn't even talk to Sulu. Well, after about a week of that, Sulu had had enough, so he went to Chekov's quarters when Chekov was off rotation for a few days. Chekov wouldn't let him in, and Sulu said he wasn't leaving until Chekov came out to talk to him. Sulu was still on medical leave, so it's not like he had duty shifts to worry about.

So he camped outside Chekov's quarters, and he stayed there for 72 hours straight, only leaving for bathroom breaks or to grab something to eat from the replicator. He slept right there on the floor, blocking the door so Chekov wouldn't be able to sneak past without waking him.

Finally Chekov gave up and came out. I wasn't there but word is that they had a screaming fight in the corridor, which ended when Sulu yelled, "I love you, you stubborn jerk!" Apparently Chekov shut right up, stared at him for a minute, and then threw himself into Sulu's arms. By that time, they'd gathered quite the audience, who broke into cheers. Sulu and Chekov didn't even notice and started making out hot and heavy right there in the hallway. Eventually Scotty shoved them into Chekov's quarters and jimmied the door so they couldn't get out unless he let them out. Which he didn’t until two days later.

They've been inseparable ever since, constantly staring into each other's eyes, which is partly adorable and partly nauseating. Christine won the pool and she's been gloating like nobody's business.

I think that's about it from here. I miss you so much, baby, I can't even describe it.

Yours always,

On to the next part
Tags: fic: trek, pairing: pike/mccoy, series: to talk of many things
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