Before I Sleep, a startrek: the original series fanfic

Title: Before I Sleep
Characters: All
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1000 even
Summary/Warning: Ten drabbles in sequence. James Kirk's command staff know he loves his crew enough to take their deaths personally, and they in turn love him enough to do what they can after missions gone wrong.
A/N: Again, if you've never done drabbles - 100 words exactly - then know they are just as difficult to write effectively as longer fics; the amount of effort involved, in my opinion, justifies this piece as being a stand-alone. Title of course is from Robert Frost's Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

It is no secret to the crew of the Enterprise that her captain takes death personally and deeply; it is a dangerously emotive trait in a starship commander, but one for which they would not trade the universe. No man aboard is afraid to die on a mission, for each knows James Kirk will care for his wife, mother, sister, ailing daughter, whomever he leaves behind, no matter how hard that may be. They only smile sadly, maybe wave, or just quietly say "Evening, Captain" as they pass him during ship's night, when he walks the corridors, unable to sleep.

James Kirk's closest associates are of no different mind than his lower decks; all of them would, if he required, walk out the nearest airlock to save him or the ship he loves; and this is a far less demanding task. They all had tried to help him at one point or another, and after weeks of their activities it's now become an unspoken tradition; after every disastrous mission, the senior staff gathers for a few moments in Briefing Room Four after shift, and decides who's going to make it his or her mission to see the Captain sleeps tonight.

Janice Rand's solution is simple. She ensures fifteen of the most boring, excruciatingly-detailed reports are stacked upon his desk when he retires; enough to keep him busy, and his energy flagging, for hours. He scowls, generally is a complete child about them, but sets himself to work. When he asks her to bring him a large coffee, she brings him warm milk instead, and lets him pitch a righteous fit about it. Then she nags him until he either finishes his work, or drinks it to shut her up; either way, he is drowsy when finished, and the mission's accomplished.

Pavel Chekov's grandmother always said the best way to stop thinking about one's self is to start thinking of another in need. Kirk is surprised at the young Russian's request to accompany him on a shipwalk, and more surprised at the beginning questions, advice about command and how to handle various situations, and did the Captain believe Chekov could ever command a vessel, or should he focus his attention on his Tactical skills instead? After three hours of counseling, they are both tired but quite content, sharing academy experiences and philosophies and generally not thinking about the present or past.

Lieutenant Sulu spends a solid twenty-eight days under Mr. Spock's supervision in cross-breeding and cultivating a soft, darkling-purple alien flower, which when successfully bloomed releases muscle relaxants into the atmosphere instead of carbon dioxide. He relinquishes quite a few sleepless nights himself, but McCoy's wide smile after he demonstrates the finished product is worth it, even if Captain Kirk will never know the purpose of the plant he finds beside his bed. The flower is later put into standard use in Federation hospitals, but no one knows the first patient to receive and benefit from one is Starfleet's youngest captain.

When it is Lieutenant Uhura's turn, she is at a loss; what would relax most men is neither appropriate between ranks, nor would the Captain even dream of accepting it. The bounds of propriety apply even here, and they both know it, though no one aboard ship would think of tale-telling. She finally entreats the aid of Mr. Spock, and under the guise of requesting Kirk's opinion for an upcoming musical performance, her melodic voice soothes him into a mellow enough state that the Vulcan can sneak a mental suggestion through the human's defensive barriers, and he sleeps at last.

Montgomery Scott's solution is simple, the way he deals with his own demons when his beautiful silver lady has been injured, crippled even; a little scotch, a little shouting at subordinates, and a heck of a lot of working through the sleepless night in repairing damage. He allows the younger man to spend as much time as he wishes in tinkering with the engines, the transporters, taking the Jefferies tube equipment apart and refitting – even if he has to re-do part of it again the next morning. If it will only help, 'tis worth more than anything in the galaxy.

McCoy tries a more practical and direct approach, via alcohol or sedatives or sometimes combinations of both; but most of the time the captain refuses, knowing they're only a quick bandage for a wound that will never fully heal, only scar. Threatening to remove him from duty if the insomnia continues accomplishes nothing but to make an enemy of his closest friend, and so in those darkest hours when Kirk is at his shouting, hurting best he only sits, silently letting him lash out; and later, much later that night, Bones holds him as he cries over losing his men.

Against all logic, Spock is delegated the task often. He suggests meditation, and Kirk is willing to try – but after three hours they are both forced to desist, ruefully admitting the captain's mind is too chaotic. He attempts to play the Captain into a restful state with a Vulcan melody, but Kirk is too fascinated, by his atypical willingness to entertain musically, to unwind. Helpless, he spends the next week researching, transcribing, and learning Terran lullabies as well as classical selections designed specifically for human relaxation – and the next time he makes his attempt, Jim is out cold within minutes.

However, there are times when nothing helps, and it's during those that one or more will forego sleep and simply be there. Usually Spock, since he needs less rest, and McCoy'll be darned before he'll let a Vulcan outdo him in Jim-comforting; but there are nights when they all gravitate toward the star that's their commander, and simply talk, long into the reaches of the night. The day's shift seems double-long afterwards – but this, like all else aboard their ship, they are honored to share with their captain.

James Kirk has the finest crew in Starfleet, and he knows it.