Star Trek Imagines (Reader-Inserts) Part One

Ent. Malcolm Reed - He Sees Your Scars

Trigger Warning: Mentions of previous self-harm and past injuries. Please don't read this if either those make you uncomfortable. 

You followed Malcolm into the decontamination chamber and began to unzip the jacket of your uniform.

"Can't believe we're the only ones to pick up something from the planet," Malcolm said as he took his own jacket off. "Of all the away teams down there, you'd think someone else would have gotten these spores, too."

You shrugged and kicked your shoes off. "I guess we're just lucky."

Malcolm grunted, taking his shoes off before pulling his jumpsuit off. "I could be recalibrating the targeting scanners, but instead I have to stay in here for God knows how long."

You smirked. "Surely my company can't be that bad."

He looked at you, gaze softening. "Y/N, I didn't mean..."

He trailed off when you held up a hand. "I get it. You're all work and no play. You don't like being cooped up; not being productive. My father's the same way. Drove my mother crazy sometimes."

Malcolm almost smiled, but he turned and went into the main chamber.

You sighed and took the rest of your uniform off before joining him. The doors shut and the blue lights turned on.

Phlox's voice came on through the speakers. "There are containers of gel on the shelf near you, Lieutenant Reed. I want both of you to apply it all over yourself and stay in the chamber until your scans are clear."

"Aye, Doctor," you said.

Malcolm grabbed two containers and handed you one. When he did, his eyes were drawn to the pink lines on your skin. He quickly averted his eyes.

You frowned softly, but said nothing. The two of started to apply gel to yourselves in silence. You knew he'd seen them - they were pretty hard to miss when you were wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts. You weren't ashamed of them, per se, though you didn't really like people to judge you or think of you any differently because of them.

"Can you get my back?" you asked quietly after a few minutes.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Malcolm said.

You turned your back to him. He gently put his hand under your shirt. You sucked in a small breath.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay. It's just a little cold is all."

Malcolm's hand slowly massaged the gel into your lower back, his fingers gliding just under your waistband.

"You can ask, you know," you said.

"I'm sorry?"

"My scars," you clarified. "I know you saw them, and I know you're curious. You can ask. Just... please don't think any less of me."

Malcolm was quiet for a moment. He removed his hand to get more gel, then started to massage the gel into the back of your neck.

"It isn't any of my business," he said finally. "They're yours, and the story behind them is yours to tell when you're ready, not when someone sees them and is curious."

A little surprised by his words, you took a moment to come up with a response. "I don't mind sharing my story with people. I just don't want my story to affect how people see or treat me."

"I understand that," Malcolm said, hand now between your shoulder blades. "If you want to tell me, you can, and I'll listen. And I'll do my best not to let it change how I see you or act around you." He gently massaged his thumb into your shoulder muscle, kneading out a knot. "But, you don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with. I know we're fairly close, but you still don't have to reveal everything about yourself to me."

You nodded slightly. "I... I want to tell you. So you understand. Maybe it'll help you understand me a bit better, too. I won't go into specific details... but the scar on my bicep is from one of the first missions I was on. I was on an away mission to what was supposed to be a peaceful planet. We were attacked, and I was injured."

Malcolm hummed in acknowledgement, moving his hand across the centre of your back slowly. You were pretty sure the gel was all soaked in, but you didn't want to say anything because frankly, him rubbing your back felt amazing. And it was helping to keep you calm.

"The ones on my thighs," you started to say, then trailed off. You hadn't ever told anyone what they were from. Not really. People had guessed, people had asked and you had confirmed, but you never really said it out loud.

"It's all right," he said softly. "I've seen ones like those before."

"They were from a rough time in my life," you said after a second.

Malcolm was quiet for a moment, then he removed his hand and said, "Can I ask you something?"

You nodded and turned to face him, preparing yourself to see his expression. You were expecting to see the look of, Oh you're so fragile and pitiful. But, all you saw was compassion.

"Why haven't you gotten them removed? Medical instruments can fully heal scarred tissue."

You shrugged slightly. "I guess I'm just used to them. They're a part of me, you know? They're my stories. My struggles. They remind me that I'm strong and can fight through anything."

Malcolm smiled softly and nodded in understanding. "Thank you for telling me all this. I... I'm glad you feel close enough to me to let me into that part of your life."

"We've been growing close over the past little while. And I feel comfortable enough with you to tell you about my past. Thank you for not making it a big deal or anything."

Malcolm hesitantly took your hands in his. "I just want to let you know that I'm glad you fought through that rough patch. You're probably one of the people I'm closest to. Not only on this ship, but just in general. I'm glad to have you in my life, Y/N."

You smiled, giving his hands a squeeze. "I'm glad to have you in my life, too."