Suspended Imagination Chapter 5: Roses in December
See masterpost for summary and disclaimer.
Last Time on Suspended Imagination: “You’re in love with me.”
Len sucked in a quick breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. Jim looked like he didn't really believe what he himself had just said, but that he would have to, at least to get through this conversation. Len just leaned back against the counter behind him, trying not to crowd Jim, trying not to make this any more awkward than it already was.
"Bones, you... you and me were together for awhile, weren't we? I mean, if you gave me a ring, it must have been pretty serious." And Len could see the wheels turning in that gorgeous head, theories looked at and discarded. "I ran away, just like I was trying to, only there wasn't any drunk driver... was there?"
"No, Jim," he finally said, still not wanting to say anything else, because the drug-blocks were notoriously tricky, and telling someone about their memories that were blocked could break them permanently. Hell, he was surprised Jim hadn't been turned into a gibbering idiot by the initial application.
"Bones... My head hurts," Jim said, face going ashy as he abruptly dropped to the ground like a rock, eyes rolled back.
"Shit! Nurse! Get in here!" Len yelled, dropping to his knees and checking Jim with his tricorder, hoping that it wasn't permanent, whatever this was. He might have to just administer the antidote and keep the antigens on hand for the allergic reactions he was sure to face. Some blond woman ran in and promptly slapped her hand against a panel in the wall, popping an emergency gurney out of its hidden pocket below. "He collapsed, possible brain damage, from a chemical memory block that is eroding. We need to get him on a table so I can fix this. I need every single anti-allergy med we've got, multiple doses of each. I'll get him to the table, you get the meds. GO!"
Startled, the nurse sprinted from the room, leaving Len to gently lift Jim onto the gurney and quickly wheel him to the nearest theater that was left open for emergencies like this. Once he got him on the table and the nurse returned, arms full of boxes, he rushed back to the lab and synthesized the anti-toxin, getting an immediate result and running back to the theater, that was filling with the neuro-team; his respect for the blonde nurse went up, she was efficient and quiet, and very, very competent. If he wanted to have a CNO when he got his posting, he'd have to ask for her, once he'd found out her name.
The operation and administering of the anti-toxin were grueling, and the entire process ended up taking far more time than he liked. The longer it took, the more likely it was that any damage was permanent. Luckily, he was top of his field in neurosurgery, so the risk was lessened a little. Once he scrubbed out, it became a waiting game, probably the same waiting game Jim's mother had gone through after kidnapping him.
He waited for 2 days, ignoring classes and his obligatory shifts at the hospital, living off of bad coffee and terrible sandwiches, only showering when Chapel shoved him into a fresher, promising to watch Jim for him. Finally, he was nearly asleep when Jim shifted on the bed, and made a strange squeaking noise that Len had heard from many patients waking up from brain surgery. It was a great sign; his motor and auditory signals were just fine, which gave him high hopes for the rest of it.
He fed Jim an ice chip and took his hand. "Jimmy, how do you feel?"
"...Shit..." He laughed, because that was such a Jim thing to say. "Len..." His heart skipped a beat; Jim hadn't called him that since the night he was taken, and he wondered if Jim really remembered or not.
"Okay, Jim, I need you to relax; you just had major surgery, you need to keep still. I just wanted to make sure you could still speak. Lay back down and I promise I'll be here when you wake back up," he said, running a thumb over the back of Jim's hand, watching with tears in his eyes as Jim slipped into a real, healing sleep.
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When Jim woke up the next time, he was far more lucid, and Len was close to hyperventilating (even if it was only in his brain) in happiness. Jim wasn't talking much, which was completely understandable, but the few words he did speak made sure that Len knew that he remembered.
"Answer's still yes, Len," Jim said, and all Len could do was nod and grin, feeling like such a sap for crying but unable to help it. When Jim fell asleep again, he got Chris to watch him and headed for Administration, and Captain Pike.
"Sir, permission to speak freely?" he asked, trying to keep his temper in check, because maybe Pike didn't know anything about it, but he could sure as hell help find out.
"Granted, Dr." Pike looked intrigued, and so Len just plowed on.
"Are you aware that both Kirk and myself suffered from memory alteration, something that is highly illegal in the Federation?" At the stunned look on Pike's face, he relaxed marginally. "Mine was just a telepathic block, and I'll deal with the perpetrators on my own. Jim's, on the other hand, was chemical in nature and in case you haven't heard, I was in surgery for 18 hours saving his life."
"Is he okay?" At the genuine concern, Len relaxed, and even sat down when he was motioned to do so.
"He will be. He's regained the blocked memories and retained motor and auditory functions, though he'll be weak for another few days at least, and I don't recommend him going to classes until next Monday at the earliest. Now, I know who did this to him, and I know why. The why isn't as important as the who, but suffice it to say, he ran away from home and was brought back by force."
"He was with you? That's why your memories were suppressed, too?"
"My memories weren't suppressed until 6 months after he was kidnapped. And mine was just a block of memories of him. His was a complete block that was passed off as a coma."
"Who did it?"
"I believe it was his mother. I remember a strange woman outside the bookstore when we were going to lunch... Yeah, it was her; her picture was in the apartment and all." At Pike's raised eyebrow he snorted. "Come on, I've all but put bells on it, Captain. Jim lived with me in my apartment for 7 months."
"I see. So you think it was Winona that did this to him?"
"I'm almost positive. She took the time to track him down, when he'd been gone over a year already, and Jim didn't look happy to see her. And he was gone the day after she showed up. It all points to her, or someone she hired." He internally winced; Pike didn't have much of an expression, but what little there was was full of skepticism.
"What was used?"
"Bathlymiocin," he said promptly. "The most dangerous of the 27 different memory altering neurotoxins, and also the one that Jim is most allergic to. That's why I was in surgery for 18 hours and had to resuscitate him no less than 12 times on the table. Whoever did it was sloppy and not really interested in Jim being healthy after taking the memories."
"If it was Winona, why would she do that?" Len had thought of that question already, and had done extensive research with the not-quite-legal use of his clearance and found out that Winona was alittle over the edge of borderline psychotic and the only reason she hadn't been institutionalized was because she was brilliant.
"She's bat-shit crazy."
(Onto Chapter 6: Legacy of the Past)
Last Time on Suspended Imagination: “You’re in love with me.”
Len sucked in a quick breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. Jim looked like he didn't really believe what he himself had just said, but that he would have to, at least to get through this conversation. Len just leaned back against the counter behind him, trying not to crowd Jim, trying not to make this any more awkward than it already was.
"Bones, you... you and me were together for awhile, weren't we? I mean, if you gave me a ring, it must have been pretty serious." And Len could see the wheels turning in that gorgeous head, theories looked at and discarded. "I ran away, just like I was trying to, only there wasn't any drunk driver... was there?"
"No, Jim," he finally said, still not wanting to say anything else, because the drug-blocks were notoriously tricky, and telling someone about their memories that were blocked could break them permanently. Hell, he was surprised Jim hadn't been turned into a gibbering idiot by the initial application.
"Bones... My head hurts," Jim said, face going ashy as he abruptly dropped to the ground like a rock, eyes rolled back.
"Shit! Nurse! Get in here!" Len yelled, dropping to his knees and checking Jim with his tricorder, hoping that it wasn't permanent, whatever this was. He might have to just administer the antidote and keep the antigens on hand for the allergic reactions he was sure to face. Some blond woman ran in and promptly slapped her hand against a panel in the wall, popping an emergency gurney out of its hidden pocket below. "He collapsed, possible brain damage, from a chemical memory block that is eroding. We need to get him on a table so I can fix this. I need every single anti-allergy med we've got, multiple doses of each. I'll get him to the table, you get the meds. GO!"
Startled, the nurse sprinted from the room, leaving Len to gently lift Jim onto the gurney and quickly wheel him to the nearest theater that was left open for emergencies like this. Once he got him on the table and the nurse returned, arms full of boxes, he rushed back to the lab and synthesized the anti-toxin, getting an immediate result and running back to the theater, that was filling with the neuro-team; his respect for the blonde nurse went up, she was efficient and quiet, and very, very competent. If he wanted to have a CNO when he got his posting, he'd have to ask for her, once he'd found out her name.
The operation and administering of the anti-toxin were grueling, and the entire process ended up taking far more time than he liked. The longer it took, the more likely it was that any damage was permanent. Luckily, he was top of his field in neurosurgery, so the risk was lessened a little. Once he scrubbed out, it became a waiting game, probably the same waiting game Jim's mother had gone through after kidnapping him.
He waited for 2 days, ignoring classes and his obligatory shifts at the hospital, living off of bad coffee and terrible sandwiches, only showering when Chapel shoved him into a fresher, promising to watch Jim for him. Finally, he was nearly asleep when Jim shifted on the bed, and made a strange squeaking noise that Len had heard from many patients waking up from brain surgery. It was a great sign; his motor and auditory signals were just fine, which gave him high hopes for the rest of it.
He fed Jim an ice chip and took his hand. "Jimmy, how do you feel?"
"...Shit..." He laughed, because that was such a Jim thing to say. "Len..." His heart skipped a beat; Jim hadn't called him that since the night he was taken, and he wondered if Jim really remembered or not.
"Okay, Jim, I need you to relax; you just had major surgery, you need to keep still. I just wanted to make sure you could still speak. Lay back down and I promise I'll be here when you wake back up," he said, running a thumb over the back of Jim's hand, watching with tears in his eyes as Jim slipped into a real, healing sleep.
---------------------------------------
When Jim woke up the next time, he was far more lucid, and Len was close to hyperventilating (even if it was only in his brain) in happiness. Jim wasn't talking much, which was completely understandable, but the few words he did speak made sure that Len knew that he remembered.
"Answer's still yes, Len," Jim said, and all Len could do was nod and grin, feeling like such a sap for crying but unable to help it. When Jim fell asleep again, he got Chris to watch him and headed for Administration, and Captain Pike.
"Sir, permission to speak freely?" he asked, trying to keep his temper in check, because maybe Pike didn't know anything about it, but he could sure as hell help find out.
"Granted, Dr." Pike looked intrigued, and so Len just plowed on.
"Are you aware that both Kirk and myself suffered from memory alteration, something that is highly illegal in the Federation?" At the stunned look on Pike's face, he relaxed marginally. "Mine was just a telepathic block, and I'll deal with the perpetrators on my own. Jim's, on the other hand, was chemical in nature and in case you haven't heard, I was in surgery for 18 hours saving his life."
"Is he okay?" At the genuine concern, Len relaxed, and even sat down when he was motioned to do so.
"He will be. He's regained the blocked memories and retained motor and auditory functions, though he'll be weak for another few days at least, and I don't recommend him going to classes until next Monday at the earliest. Now, I know who did this to him, and I know why. The why isn't as important as the who, but suffice it to say, he ran away from home and was brought back by force."
"He was with you? That's why your memories were suppressed, too?"
"My memories weren't suppressed until 6 months after he was kidnapped. And mine was just a block of memories of him. His was a complete block that was passed off as a coma."
"Who did it?"
"I believe it was his mother. I remember a strange woman outside the bookstore when we were going to lunch... Yeah, it was her; her picture was in the apartment and all." At Pike's raised eyebrow he snorted. "Come on, I've all but put bells on it, Captain. Jim lived with me in my apartment for 7 months."
"I see. So you think it was Winona that did this to him?"
"I'm almost positive. She took the time to track him down, when he'd been gone over a year already, and Jim didn't look happy to see her. And he was gone the day after she showed up. It all points to her, or someone she hired." He internally winced; Pike didn't have much of an expression, but what little there was was full of skepticism.
"What was used?"
"Bathlymiocin," he said promptly. "The most dangerous of the 27 different memory altering neurotoxins, and also the one that Jim is most allergic to. That's why I was in surgery for 18 hours and had to resuscitate him no less than 12 times on the table. Whoever did it was sloppy and not really interested in Jim being healthy after taking the memories."
"If it was Winona, why would she do that?" Len had thought of that question already, and had done extensive research with the not-quite-legal use of his clearance and found out that Winona was alittle over the edge of borderline psychotic and the only reason she hadn't been institutionalized was because she was brilliant.
"She's bat-shit crazy."
(Onto Chapter 6: Legacy of the Past)