Passive-Aggressive Release by Ster Julie

Title: Passive-Aggressive Release

Author: Ster Julie

Codes: AOS, Spock, McCoy; Rose’s “In Dr. McCoy’s Office” Challenge

Also See: Related stories/chapters by Ster Julie

Rating: [PG]

Part one of one

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I just borrow them and return them well-loved.


A/N: Thanks to my big sister, the scientist, for being my consultant on the rocks. I liked the tourmaline-mica-quartz-feldspar conglomerate, while she preferred the dog tooth calcite bc it was the right color and looked more alien.


--ooOoo--


Spock positioned another sizeable stone in front of him, aimed, and swung the sledge hammer up into a powerful arc.


*SMASH*


Again.


*CRACK*


This time the rock fractured somewhat in half, its edges sharp and jagged, its russet and golden interior glinting as the numerous crystals caught the sun just so.


Spock mindlessly moved the large halves off to the side and repeated the process. Position. Swing. *SMASH*

Swing again. *CRACK* Move aside. Repeat.


Doctor McCoy observed Spock at a distance, not wanting to disturb the Vulcan as he worked out his grief and anger. The Enterprise was making its routine bi-monthly stop at the Vulcan colony during which time the medical staff would make wellness checks, provisions and donations would be delivered, and Spock would have time to interact with the members of his House.


So why is he out here alone and doing hard labor? McCoy wondered, looking at the sizeable pile of cleft stones, and the long line of rocks waiting a turn at the edge of a newly plowed field.


The words “passive-aggressive behavior” rolled around McCoy’s mind. He tried to study Spock’s face but found it difficult from a distance. McCoy took a deep breath and drew as close as he dare to the swinging sledgehammer and the flying chips of stone.


Spock took only enough time to flick a glance at him as he continued to work. “Doctor,” he said as he took another swing.


“I nearly finished the wellness checks on all the Vulcans,” McCoy reported.


“Nearly?” *Smash.*


“One got away,” the doctor continued.


“Got away?” Spock repeated. *Crack.*


“Yes,” McCoy continued. “I had to track him down. I found him exhibiting passive-aggressive behavior, splitting stones in this heat.”


Spock stopped the hammer in mid-swing. “Are you referring to me?” he asked, incredulous. “There is nothing passive-aggressive in my behavior, Doctor. The artisans need these stones cracked to be used in the memorial monument. I am merely doing my share of the work.” Spock hefted the heavy hammer once more.


“So why aren’t you using a power tool, even a phaser?” McCoy countered.


“I get a more satisfactory outcome with the hammer,” Spock defended.


“You mean you get more satisfaction by smashing those stones yourself, Spock,” McCoy accused.


“Really, Doctor!”


“How many times have you imagined Nero’s face on those rocks?” he accused. “How many times have you bashed his head in? Bashed in the heads of those who didn’t help you save your world? Do you see Chekov for saving you but not your mother? Do you see your older self and smash him, too, for not stopping the destruction of Romulus in the first place?”


Spock flung away the sledge hammer with a cry, not trusting himself, fearing he might use it on McCoy.


“Cease!” he roared. The Vulcan bent over and rested his hands on his knees. His harsh breathing was the only sound for a while.


McCoy reached into the pack he carried and pulled out a small pop-up tent. He set it up on a flat patch of ground and motioned inside.


“Step into my office, Spock,” he invited. “It’s too damn hot out here.”


Reluctantly, Spock straightened, brushed his hands and clothes off and moved into the shelter.


McCoy grabbed a chunk of rock and brought it inside. He studied its crystalline interior as Spock drank down a few water packs.


“Why do you think I am exhibiting passive-aggressive behavior?” Spock asked.


“You’re being self-destructive,” McCoy explained.


“Elucidate.”


“You’re working outside during the hottest part of the day,” the doctor continued, “doing work by hand that could be done with power tools. Where is your water supply? Where are your safety goggles? You may be crushing rocks, but you are also crushing something in you.” The doctor hefted the rock again. “Why so many of these, anyway?”


Spock took a deep breath. “The artisans will be using them to line the inside and outside of the memorial,” he explained quietly.


“Why are you working on this alone?” McCoy queried gently. He noted that the Vulcan suddenly fell silent at his question. “Well, looky there. Spock’s actually squirming!” the doctor noted.


“When I come here,” Spock began, “everyone knows their place. Everyone has their job to do. It is an efficient community. I am an outsider when I come here.”

“But I thought you were head of a House,” McCoy observed.


“Some Head of House,” Spock said with derision. “I am not here long enough to make a difference. I have no say over who joins my House. I do not know any of the new members. I have adopted children, but I cannot even raise them.”* Small stone chips fell from Spock’s bowed head like tears. “It’s as if I do not belong here either.”


McCoy sat back and processed all that he heard from Spock, turning his thoughts over as he turned the rock in his hands.


Spock took the stone from the doctor. “This stone will bear witness that I was here,” he continued, “that I contributed something tangible to the colony. The stones will be set into the matrix comprising the domed shape. Their rough edges will symbolize out great pain, our raw grief. The play of the sunlight on the crystals will create beauty out of that grief.”


McCoy thought awhile over all Spock had said.


“I’ve been worried about you, Spock,” he admitted at last. “You have lost so much.”


“No more than any of the others,” the Vulcan interjected.


“Maybe,” McCoy admitted, “but they have the support of each other. Who do you have? You say that the control of your House has been usurped because you are not here long enough. Maybe it’s time to ask for leave. God knows you have it coming. At the very least, don’t do this kind of work without provisions and safety equipment. And for Pete’s sake, talk to the members of your House. Make them make room for you and your needs. Find a way to communicate with your kids every day. I’ll even help foot the telecom bill.”


Spock gave the doctor a warm look. “That will not be necessary,” he said.


The two men sat in the relative coolness of the shelter. McCoy fished around in his pack and withdrew two ration packs and several more water packs.


“No point in me lugging this back,” he commented.


“Are you leaving, Doctor?” Spock asked.


“My work is done here,” he replied. “I have conducted the last of the wellness checks on the Vulcans here at the colony.”


“And your findings?” Spock prompted.


“They show promise,” the doctor reported. “The incidences of suicide have fallen dramatically. Everyone is finding release in working together to build a new society.”


McCoy smiled gently.


“Especially our first officer.”


END


* See “Rejected and Despised--The Halflings”