52Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, obviously. I'm just having fun in the universe.
A/N: Hello! If you're new to this little thing I'm writing, then I'd say feel free to read what you will. If you want to go read the story before this - called U.S.S. Enterprise: An Engineer's Adventure - then I think that's great. If OC's aren't your thing, well, there'll be major mentions of them, but this is a McCoy centered story. Things would probably make more sense if you read the first part, but hey, you do what you want.
If you want a quick overview, skim maybe the first chapter, the second to last chapter, and the last one, and you'd be pretty caught up.
Also, if you did read the story before this, this one's ... like if the T rating was a scale, the last story would be like a T- and this would be a T+. I will also swear up and down to update at least once a week, but some of you will know that I usually go for updates more often than that.
Okey doke. So, without further ado, please enjoy!
U.S.S. Enterprise: A Doctor's Call
Prologue –I Swear to Fulfill, to the Best of my Ability and Judgment, this Covenant
"I don't need a doctor, dammit, I am a doctor!"
Leonard tried to explain this to the officer. She tugged him by the arm, pulling him from the bathroom and into the cramped shuttle room. The grey walls closed in on him, making him want to hyperventilate. They were going in this? Her face tightened at his exclamation, not believing his claim or maybe just not giving a damn.
"Well, you – you need to get back to your seat," she insisted, continuing to pull him along.
"I had one in the bathroom..."
"You need to get back to your..."
"with no windows."
"seat. You need to get back to your seat, now."
Their voices overlapped in argument, and he scowled down at the officer. What did he have to say to convince all these idiots? Did they want him to have a panic attack? How would they like to clean his vomit from their seats? It'd serve them all right.
"I suffer from aviophobia. It means fear of dying in something that flies." He spun his finger around in case she didn't quite understand. Most people couldn't anyways. Bunch of self-righteous bastards, Starfleet. And now he was becoming one of them.
She glared up at him through his speech. "Sir, for your own safety, sit down. Or else I'll make you sit down," the officer warned, threat clear in her voice.
Moron.
He nodded at her, his scowl deepening. Waving her off dismissively, he slunk down into the first seat available, and the ripe scent of alcohol, sweat, and blood hit his nose like oncoming traffic. Tugging on his seat belt roughly, he searched for the source of the scent.
"This is Captain Pike. We're clear for take off."
He noticed the young guy next to him, the only other person in civilian clothes. Better to puke on that than on the Starfleet uniforms. Besides, it wouldn't affect the smell of the kid too much. Goddamn, he stank like nothing else.
"I may throw up on ya," Leonard said to the guy. Observing him more closely, the doctor noticed forming bruises on his cheeks and an abrasion on his chin. He could already tell, from the smell and the look of him, that this kid was trouble with a capital T.
"Well, I think these things are pretty safe," the kid muttered in annoyance. His breath was pure liquor, and he had the gall to take on a condescending tone? Guy was probably still drunk from whatever mess he got into the night before.
"Don't pander to me, kid," Leonard growled as he fidgeted with the restraints. "One tiny crack in the hull, and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats." The doctor shivered inwardly as images from medical school popped into his head. "And wait'll you're sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles."
He stared over at the idiot, his dismissive air pushing Leonard further. "See if you're so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding." The kid scoffed, shaking his head.
"Space is a disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence."
"Well, I hate to break this to you," the guy complained with a roll of his eyes. "But Starfleet operates in space." At least the kid knew that much. Fuckin' idiot.
Fuckin' Pamela. Fuckin' Jenny.
"Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go," Leonard admitted freely, taking out his flask and giving it a once over. "The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce." His daughter, his entire world. Joanna. "All I got left's my bones." Leonard took a swig from the small metal container, enjoying the instant tingling in his head as the alcohol entering his system.
He glanced over at the kid, and in a gesture of plain pity, the doctor offered him the flask. If he was going to die, Leonard was going to do it drunk. But being drunk alone – pointless.
The kid's blue gaze looked at him in appraisal, taking the flask in thanks. He paused before drinking, toasting Leonard. "Jim Kirk," he said before throwing it back.
"McCoy. Leonard McCoy."
"What the hell?" Leonard said, opening his door and seeing that drunk guy from the other day. His bruises were now purple-red on his face, but he smelled like vodka instead of Jack Daniels. "Well," Leonard prompted when the kid continued to stand there, the standard issue bag slung over his shoulder, "what the fuck do you want?"
It was too damn early for this. What did people say about feeding strays? Don't, cause they'll just keep coming back for more.
"We're roommates," Jeff told him, brushing past him into the small apartment. Like hell they were. Kid had gotten his favorite flask confiscated by that moronic flight officer. Leonard didn't need some snot-nosed brat stinking up the place and bringing back the trouble that clung to him like a magnet.
"Says who?" Leonard asked, following John as he inspected the place. He trailed behind the kid while he found the extra bed and threw the duffel from his arms onto the mattress.
"Says the rooming assignments," Jack said, flopping onto his stomach. Leonard's face twitched with irritation. What kind of luck placed this drunken idiot with him? Now the doctor would feel obligated to make sure he didn't end up killing himself through his own stupidity. Which, going by the evidence so far, would be a damn near impossible task.
"Of course they did," Leonard muttered, leaving the kid alone and shuffling his pajama-clad self back into bed. Classes and training started the next day. If the rumors he heard were true, he'd need all the sleep he could get before that shit began.
Music from who knew what century started to blast from the other side of the room.
"Turn that shit off," Leonard ordered, rolling on his side and peeping out from the covers. Jason matched his glare with a careless glance.
"It's my room too, asshole." The kid turned the music up, as though both their eardrums weren't already permanently damaged. Leonard growled slightly, and in response, Jared increased it even more.
I CAN'T STAND IT
I KNOW YOU PLANNED IT
I'MA SET STRAIGHT THIS WATERGATE
The voice from the song was almost incomprehensible, and the screaming boiled Leonard's blood like a flame. He shoved the covers off of him, and ignored the chill of the room as he stomped over to Jeb's prone form. The kid's hostile eyes stared up at him defiantly, daring him to do something. A challenge.
Okay.
"Hey!" Jacob exclaimed when Leonard picked up the ancient device and threw it against the wall. It shattered easily, causing a mean grin to grace the doctor's face. "What the hell, man! Do you know how much that cost me? It's an antique." The kid's face turned an unattractive red. Leonard scoffed at the sight.
"Well now it's a broken antique," Leonard grumbled, turning his back to the new roommate.
"Asshole," Joel mumbled under his breath.
"Fuck you, too."
Leonard walked along the busy sidewalk, his bones weary and his legs aching.
He was a doctor, not an athlete. The training whipped him into exhaustion, day after day. Feeling like he was going to die, the doctor wondered at how it could only have been a week. Voices from clipped conversations buzzed in his ears as he contemplated the months left until graduation.
Too damn many.
He hoped to God that the kid wasn't home. But because Leonard had the worst luck, and because what's his face never did anything but laze around all day and go out all night, the doctor entered the apartment with a wary sigh.
And then with a blank stare.
There was a red taped line running down the middle of the apartment, and a pathway drawn out from Leonard's bed's half of the room to the kitchen and bathroom.
What. In. God's. Name?
"Hello, Bones," the kid smirked with an evil expression. Leonard felt creepy crawlies cover his skin at the thought of the brat waiting for him to come back, and that feeling mixed with the immediate irritation at the nickname. Bones. Real fucking original. Never saw it coming. Kid probably thought he was fucking clever.
Idiot.
"What the hell did you do?" Leonard spat, hand flinging out to point at the red lines.
"I've divided up the room, since you seem incapable of sharing," Justin informed him, and Leonard prayed that if the kid managed to graduate from the command track, that he never be placed on the same ship as him. The brat was insane.
"Me?" Leonard grumbled in disbelief, walking forward to put his bag down at his desk. All of his stuff from the kid's side was now piled up firmly at the edge of the line. Leonard had noticed in the last week that Jordan couldn't stand any type of mess. It had encouraged Leonard to leave socks, dishes, and papers scattered around the apartment.
That was until the brat had set all of those things on fire.
Who knew Jeremiah could be so OCD?
"We'll each stay on our own sides. I've come up with a bathroom schedule that I think fits in with both our timetables," the kid said.
"How the fuck do you know my timetable?" Leonard asked, and at the other cadet's look, the doctor decided he didn't want to know. Some things were better left unsaid. "And what do you mean a bathroom schedule? If I gotta take a leak, I'll damn well do it when I want."
"Your body will become accustomed to the change," Jasper stated firmly.
"The hell it will. If I need to, I'll piss on your side of the room."
Jay clenched his jaw. "If you do, I swear -"
"What the hell are you going to do about it, Jerry?"
"My name's Jim, Bones. Jiiiiiimmmmmm. Are you stupid or something?" Leonard balled up his fist and stepped pointedly over the red line into Jiiiiiimmmmmm's space.
"And my name's McCoy, not Bones," Leonard claimed, and as he continued to step forward, the cadet jumped up from his seat. The kid cracked his knuckles in a gesture that was supposed to have been threatening.
A toddler. An infant.
"Get the fuck off my side," Jim said.
Leonard smiled in false sincerity. "No."
The kid looked about ready to lose it, which Leonard enjoyed immensely. As long as he threw the first punch, the doctor would enjoy teaching the brat a lesson without consequences.
At the last moment, with their faces an inch apart, Jim scoffed and turned away. In a rush, the cadet grabbed his beat up leather jacket – the one he thought made him look oh so cool – from his desk chair. "You're not even worth it," Kirk muttered at last, and then he was out the door and kicking it closed with a bang.
Idiot.
"Are you serious?" Leonard screamed as he walked through the front door.
Kirk was on the doctor's bed. So was another cadet, his body mostly hidden from view. And so was another, her body completely on display. So much for the separate sides. Leonard would have to burn the mattress, the blankets, his eyeballs.
Goddamn.
"Hey, Bones," Kirk said in a voice Leonard never wanted to hear again. He stared in disbelief at the sight in front of him. This was crossing a line. Too much. Leonard was a doctor, dammit, and he knew how to kill Kirk with a simple injection. Maybe it was time to remind the kid of how afraid he should really be.
Leonard watched as the other two scrambled out of the bed while he approached. He ignored their flailing forms, and focused solely on the shit eating grin Kirk beamed at him. He stared at him solemnly, and the all too naked Kirk slowly became aware of Leonard's raised eyebrow.
"Bones, don't look like that. We were just having some fun." Kirk's eyes darted around, but the other cadets were already leaving in a hurry. At least someone respected the terrifying expression he knew was on his face. Leonard turned on his heel and headed over into Kirk's side. "McCoy, what are you doing?" Kirk asked, and his voice held a wonderful tone of fear. Finally.
Leonard reached into Kirk's desk drawer and pulled them out.
His cassette tapes. Why Leonard even knew what they were called was a fucking tragedy in and of itself. And now Kirk was going to pay.
"McCoy, come on," Kirk began, but stopped after Leonard snapped the first one in half. The kid made a pathetic whining sound at the sight of the fractured rectangle thing.
"You had sex," Leonard said, breaking the next one and tossing it on the floor. "On my." Snap. "Fucking." Snap. "Bed."
"Man, quit it!" Kirk yelled, rushing forward and tackling the doctor to the ground. Leonard got in a few good smacks to the face, and judging by the sickening crack, he'd managed to break the kid's nose as well. It felt far too good to do it, but Leonard received his fair share of kicks, and also bites. Never pegged the brat for a biter, but hey, what could he expect from such an asshole? That he wouldn't fight dirty?
They rolled around a few times, fighting into exhaustion and making a complete mess of the apartment.
When they finally separated, Leonard moved onto his back and panted up at the ceiling. When at last he could form words, the doctor winced in a horrifying realization. Tasting copper blood in his mouth, Leonard grumbled.
"Could you put some clothes on now, ya bastard?"
Leonard did not do casual, had never done casual, but he sure as hell was not spending another night in that damn apartment with the devil himself.
He threw back another shot. Fuck, how did one go about this kind of thing? Leonard shacked up with his ex-wife almost immediately out of college, and truth be told, he'd never been much for dating in the first place. Married the first girl ever gave him an ounce of attention. Loved her too, till she went and fucked that guy from med school.
Fucking hell, was that Kirk over there?
The kid tumbled around with a woman's arm slung around his waist. Something screamed wrong inside him, and since the doctor always trusted his gut, he got up from the barstool, dropped the credits to the bartender and tried not to stumble as he walked over to the pair. How many shots had he had again?
"What're you doin' with Jeremy?" Leonard said, stepping in front of the pair. The kid looked trashed, and not in the fun way. The other person's eyes were eerily alert. Even as he ignored her response, the doctor looked seriously at his roommate, noting the dilated pupils and rapidly blinking eyes.
"What did you give him?" Leonard asked in a tone more calm than he really was, moving forward and pushing her off the kid with little resistance. The woman didn't answer, and in the next moment, she had disappeared into the crowd of people.
"Bowsss," Joshua slurred, leaning heavily onto Leonard. The effects of his own round of shots evaporated quickly at the sight of the very obviously drugged cadet. Leonard shuffled a bit, and once he got his bearings, the doctor took them both towards the door of the packed bar. "W'err we gowen Bowwwsss?"
"We're going home, Jesse," Leonard said over the loud, thumping music.
"'is Jiimmmmm," the kid reminded him.
"Sorry, kid. I'm shit at names." The cool air of the fall evening settled around them and licked Leonard's skin soothingly. "Just lean on me, we're not too far from the apartment," he reminded as they walked along. The light from various streetlamps cast their shadows on the ground, and Leonard tried very hard not to think what would've happened to the brat had he not been there.
Idiot.
Jim continued to babble nonsensically, and for once, Leonard kept his mouth shut and just let the kid talk. They had to stop once for Jim to puke in the well-groomed grass of the campus grounds before the cadets finally arrived back.
Shutting the door with his foot, Leonard half-carried Jim to his bed and placed him in a sitting position against the headboard. "I'm tired, Bowss," Jim yawned, and his arms moved jerkily around to rub his eyes.
"Lay down," Leonard instructed, helping Jim onto his back over the covers. He then moved the kid onto his side, and arranged his arms so that one was under his cheek and the other made a ninety degree angle to his body. "Stay in this position, okay?" Jim hummed, letting Leonard bend his knee and tilt his head up.
"I'm serious, kid. Don't move." Then Leonard got up quickly and grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards. It could be nice having a neat freak for a roommate, the doctor considered as he filled the cup with water. All the dishes were always done.
He came back with a chair from the table, and Jim had thankfully done as he was told. Leonard placed the water on the bedside table, along with a large silver bowl in case he puked again, and situated the chair next to the kid's bed. After grabbing his receiver from his jacket, the doctor shrugged off the covering and settled into the chair. If he had to stay awake and make sure Jim didn't choke on his own vomit, well, he might as well get some work done.
In the morning, when Kirk finally opened his eyes again, they'd locked gazes. There was a new-found understanding there, an unspoken agreement that they'd look out for one another from then on.
Leonard still thought the kid was an idiot, even if it was his job to make sure he didn't end up a dead idiot.
God help him.
"Listen to this, Bones," Jim began, and Leonard nodded absently as he struggled to remember what the instructor had set about shuttle emergency procedure. First, check shield capacity? No, that was all wrong. Dammit, he was a doctor, not a moon shuttle conductor.
"The most recent example of this concept, absolute power corrupting absolutely, is the genocidal atrocity on Tarsus IV. When a fungal contamination rendered the food supply of the colony obsolete, Governor Kodos, known more commonly as Kodos the Executioner, made the decision to divide the remaining food rations among the population on the basis of eugenics.
As we have learned from the Eugenics Wars of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, this pseudo-science remains questionable by any modern standards. Regardless, the governor preemptively assigned death sentences to half the population, some four thousand Federation citizens, in order that the other half might live. And of the four thousand he chose to execute, only about a hundred and fifty survived.
Since then, the Federation has adopted the policy of a three-tiered system of powers on every established colony, regardless of species or planet of origin."
Kirk's voice repeated the words with a strange tone of fascination. "That's fuckin' bleak, Kirk. Why the hell're you reading that? Class?" The kid shook his head and shrugged.
"I dunno. Came across it in the library and thought it looked interesting. Like I'd heard it before, or something. You know, like when you see somebody and it's like you've seen them a thousand times before, but you never even met." What the hell? Was the kid drunk at only three in the afternoon? Again?
Leonard pressed his index and middle fingers to his temple, massaging the ache there. First, assure the safety of everyone on board. Yes. "Probably heard it on the news when it happened. How long ago was it?"
"Umm … 2246, so … I guess almost ten years ago." Second, check shield capacity. Right. Third, what came next?
"There you go," Leonard muttered. Jim was silent for a while after that, which was uncommon when they were studying. Kid liked to share every little detail aloud as he read. Probably liked the sound of his own damn voice. Like Leonard didn't have better things to do than listen to genocidal maniacs slaughter thousands of people. Who the hell found that interesting?
"I'd have been only twelve," Kirk realized. "And you'd have been, uh, fifty-four?"
Brat.
"As a medical officer aboard a starship, your duties may range from simple physical examinations to research or even emergency surgery. Because of this …"
Leonard yawned, and though the new semester had only just started, the doctor couldn't wait for it to be over already. The instructor's voice droned on and on, lulling Leonard back into a light doze. After a few minutes, the girl next to him poked his arm with her stylus. He looked over in annoyance, but at her pointed look between him and the front of the room, a sense of dread replaced the irritation.
"What's your name, Cadet?" the instructor ordered in a stern voice. Well, shit.
Leonard stood quickly at attention. "McCoy, sir."
"Do you know what I was just saying, McCoy, or were you too busy napping in my class?" Fuckin' idiot officers trying to make an example out of him on the first day. Fuckin' roommates who thought the last night of break meant that he had to drag Leonard along with him from bar to bar. And why the hell had Kirk been so damn obsessed with that girl? Ura? Ulara? Uhura?
Yeah, Uhura. Damn them all to hell.
"I was sleeping, sir." No point in lying when it was clear to them both what had happened.
"I see. I will repeat it for you then, Cadet. The captain of the ship, though they may hold the highest rank aboard the vessel, can still be overridden by a medical officer, and in particular by the Chief Medical Officer, if that officer feels that the captain is not longer fit for duty – either physically or emotionally. That is why it is so important for us to be aware of our surroundings, right, Cadet?"
Tell him something he didn't know. "Yes, sir."
"Wonderful. At ease." Leonard sat back down, muttering to himself quietly. "Can anyone give me an example of a case in which the captain of a starship should have been declared unfit for duty but was not?"
A few cadets raised their hands, and after the instructor pointed to someone in the row behind Leonard, he twisted around to face them. The cadet stood up from his seat and called out in a clear voice. "I believe Captain Richard Robau of the U.S.S. Kelvin was emotionally unfit for duty, sir."
Leonard's eyes started to shut close of their own accord again, though the doctor fought the urge valiantly. Need sleep.
"That's a bold claim, Cadet. Do you have evidence to support this theory?" the instructor asked at the front of the room. Were they supposed to be familiar with this case? To be fair, Leonard had forgotten to do the readings for the first day of classes. All Kirk's fault
"Before he gave command to his first officer, Lieutenant Commander George Kirk, -"
What? Kirk? His eyes snapped open.
"Captain Robau was known to be suffering from the loss of his son, who had died only a week before his capture and death. I believe that had Captain Robau been relieved of his command, and replaced by his first officer, then the Kelvin may never have been in that quadrant of space in the first place. They went there on a whim, and I put forth that the whim was fueled by the grief of a father seeking distraction from the loss of his child."
Damn, someone was trying really hard to impress. But really, Kirk? What were the chances that they just shared a last name? Kirk was a common surname right? Leonard racked his mind for other people he had meet named Kirk …
"Instead, Robau volunteered to enter a situation he knew to be dangerous, and he left the starship in command of the new captain, Kirk, who, unable to cope with the overwhelming threat of a still unidentified space craft, forced an emergency evacuation. And in that case, Captain Kirk died, leaving behind a newborn son."
"This all could have been avoided had the CMO made the right call," the student completed finally.
"Hey," Leonard whispered over to the cadet that had woken him up earlier. Her dark eyes glanced up at him. "What was that kid's name? Kirk's son?"
"James, I think," she said back quietly.
"Like Jim?" Leonard asked.
She shrugged. "You mean like a nickname?"
Jim. James.
"Jim Kirk," he said before throwing it back.
Well, shit.
"Daddy!" Joanna yelled as she ran towards him, dust and dirt kicking up in the air with each slap of her bare feet against the ground. The seven year old hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him down backwards into the ground. Her large grin, which showed two holes were her front teeth were supposed to be, mirrored his own as he pulled her close.
Goodness, she'd grown.
"Hey JoJo," Leonard said, lifting them both up covered in sandy dirt. The sun beat into his eyes as he brought her up with him, situating her in his arms. "You been good for your grannie?"
"Nope," Joanna told him, smile wide. "Who's that?" She pointed behind them to where Jim stood looking like a lost puppy and trying to hide it.
Well what the hell? He couldn't just leave the kid back at the apartment alone for the break, could he? Had to take him down to Georgia, otherwise Jim would've complained for weeks about how boring it was without him. Dependent, leech-like infant that he was.
"That's my friend, Mister Jim. We train together in California," Leonard told her as he brought them over to Jim. "Say hello."
"Hello, Mister Jim. I'm Joanna. Are you a doctor, too?" Joanna asked, and Leonard had to hide a smile at how grown up she was trying to sound.
"No. I'm trying to be a captain," Jim told her, a goofy expression on his face. Leonard prayed that day was far off in their future. As in, decades away. It'd be like unleashing a tantrum prone toddler onto a tower of blocks. Something was going to end up broke.
"Of what?"
"A starship."
"How come?"
"Seems like it'd be fun," Jim answered, scratching his nose casually.
Fun? No.
Deadly? Yes.
God help them all if he ever got command.
"Oh, come on!" Leonard exclaimed quietly as he entered the waiting room of the hospital. He had just finished the final shift of the week, and the doctor was more than ready to collapse into his bed. Instead, he got an eyeful of a bleeding Jim being dragged along by an obviously ticked off Captain Pike.
Was it horrible that he was hardly even surprised at the sight?
"McCoy," Pike began, pushing the injured cadet at him. "Patch him up, sober him up, and then send him back to my office." The captain stared intensely at Leonard before turning around and leaving. Arrogant asshole. No wonder Jim got along with him.
Growling, the doctor glared down at Jim's stumbling form and stupid grin.
"What the hell happened?" Leonard asked as he tugged Jim back along the path he had just taken to leave. None of the injuries appeared life-threatening, but still, better to treat him in the hospital than in their apartment where he'd get blood on the floor. God knew the place already had enough of Jim's blood stains smeared into it for all eternity.
"Went drinking 'efore my advis-ree meeting," Jim explained through a painful hiccup. "OW! Bowns, don't pull so hard." Leonard scowled as they reached an empty bed. He threw Jim down onto it, angrily gathering supplies from the drawer at the bedside.
"And the face?" Leonard found the hypo he wanted – the one that would evaporate the alcohol in his bloodstream, and after quickly preparing the device, shoved it roughly into Jim's neck. The ensuing yell was like music to his ears.
"Owww," Jim whined, holding his neck like an infant. The kid glanced up at him, and whatever he saw there made him audibly gulp. Damn straight. "I got in a fight, okay?"
"Okay?" Leonard repeated in a sarcastic tone before continuing on more seriously. "Damn it, Jim. Do you want to be kicked out of the Academy? Go back to Iowa and drink yourself to death?"
Jim had the nerve to simply shrug. "It's not that serious. Besides, I don't need the lecture. Fuck, Pike's gonna kill me." Leonard hoped he called to ask him to help with the body disposal. Not that the good doctor had ever contemplated such things before. If he had, well, at least Leonard was prepared for the inevitability.
"Shut up," Leonard ordered, moving closer with the sanitizer and skin regenerator. Jim snapped his mouth closed, and thank God the kid could do as he was told occasionally. It only took about four minutes to patch up the mess of his face.
"Thanks," Jim mumbled when he'd finished. Leonard stood up and stared down at the kid. Looked like a damn sob story with that expression.
Pitiful idiot.
"Come on," Leonard started, pulling the now sober Jim to his feet. "Pike and you sound like you're going to have a nice long chat." And he wished that Jim could get whatever wisdom Pike wanted to impart through his thick skull. Probably not, but at least someone was trying. Leonard couldn't do it alone after all.
Jim wasn't expendable. About time someone taught him that, before he ended up dead in a ditch somewhere.
"Hey, Bones," Jim said, slapping him on he shoulder. Leonard blinked his friend's form into focus. Stupidly concerned blue eyes stared down at him, but the doctor scoffed and waved the kid off.
"Tha's nah my name, kid," Leonard slurred, and he watched in irritation as Jim and the bartender shared a glance. Jim kept a warm hand on his shoulder as Leonard fiddled with the empty glass in front of him.
"Yes it is," Jim told him, and Leonard could just hear the smile in the kid' voice. It made the doctor clench his jaw.
"Go 'way. I'm busy," Leonard stated, glaring down at the dark colored bar-counter.
His whole body felt that wonderful mixture of perfect and numb that came from having one too many shots of bourbon. And now Jim had to burst it in, probably dragging along whatever trouble he'd picked up along the way. That's what Jim always did, because that's who he was, and Leonard didn't begrudge his friend for it. But tonight wasn't about Jim.
It was his goddamn wedding anniversary, and he wanted to be alone.
"I can see that," Jim replied. "But it's closing time, man. We gotta go." He slapped Leonard's other shoulder with his free hand. The doctor nodded and slid off the barstool.
Woah. Everything had tilted, and Leonard would've ended up on the ground if Jim hadn't had such a firm grip on him. "That's right. Let's just go." Leonard stumbled along with Jim supporting him on one side. His feet tangled with each other as he walked, no matter how hard he tried to keep them steady.
"Fuckin' sorry," Leonard mumbled as one particular step almost had them both tumbling down. Jim patted his chest and kept them upright.
"You don't have to worry. I got you, Bones, no matter what."
No matter what?
People always said that.
"We're receiving a distress call from the U.S.S. Kobayashi Maru," Uhura stated in a condescending tone, like she was talking to a child. And she was, if Leonard could be believed. Why the hell was Jim even bothering with the damn test again? Stubborn, hard-headed idiot thinking he could beat a test with no fucking answer …
Uhura continued on in the same voice, and Leonard's eyes focused on the helm controls. What did that button do again? "The ship has lost power and is stranded. Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them." Leonard glanced back as Jim spun back around in the captain's chair.
"Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them," Jim drawled, "Captain." Kid had a fuckin' death sentence, if Uhura's face was anything to go by. Leonard rolled his eyes and focused in on the beeping tone coming from the controls.
"Two Klingon vessels have entered the Neutral Zone and are locking weapons on us," Leonard told the kid as he registered the new presence on the screen. The tone of the buttons entered into the slowly increasing noise level of the simulation.
"That's okay." Oh, what the hell?
"That's okay?" Leonard intoned in disbelief. The kid had not stopped complaining about the test for almost a year. Since the day he started preparing for the first round, till yesterday when he sought Leonard out to assure him that he needed him there. And after all that, all the annoying theories and schemes, Jim was just going to act like a shithead during the third round.
Idiot.
"Yeah, don't worry about it," Jim said casually, and Leonard ground his teeth as the simulation progressed on schedule.
"Three more Klingon Warbirds decloaking and targeting our ship," the doctor called out, and then spun his seat around to face the smirking Jim. What in the fuck did this kid have planned? And there better be a fucking plan, or Leonard had just wasted his Saturday morning and afternoon waiting for the instructors to show up. "I don't suppose this is a problem, either?"
The other 'helmsmen' spoke up. "They're firing, Captain." Leonard shivered at the thought of Jim ever gaining the title. Goddamn kid in a captain's chair. Fuckin' nightmare.
"Alert Medical Bay to prepare to receive all crewmembers from the damaged ship," Leonard heard Jim order from behind him. He could already feel Uhura's protest.
"And how do you expect us to rescue them when we're surrounded by Klingons?" Uhura asked in the same tone as earlier. And surrounded was right. Leonard watched on the scans and the viewing screen as the Klingons continued to fire on them. Shield were at 80 … 70 … "Captain?"
"Alert Medical," Jim instructed again, his voice now mirroring the other cadet's.
"Our ship's being hit," Leonard informed Jim, since he seemed not to be noticing. "Shields at sixty percent."
"I understand."
Un – fucking – believable. "Well shouldn't we, I don't know, fire back?" Leonard intoned, twisting around to face the kid once more. And that's when he saw it. The apple.
"No."
Fucking Christ.
"Of course not." Because Leonard didn't have better things to do that day than help Jim make some idiotic point to Starfleet about their stupid fucking test.
The beeping suddenly stopped, his screen shorted out, and Leonard glanced around in confusion. The silence of the malfunction lasted only a few moments, and then everything was up and running again.
"Hmm," Jim hummed in confusion. "Arm photons. Prepare to fire on the Klingon Warbirds."
"Yes, sir," the other cadet said, but Leonard just turned around in annoyance.
"Jim, their shields are still up." And then he watched as Jim inspected the shiny red apple with approval.
"Are they?" the kid wondered. He heard a juicy bite being taken from the fruit. What an asshole. Leonard still held out his arm in disbelief as he went back to check the scanner.
The stirrings of understanding thrummed in Leonard's bones.
Sonofabitch!
Leonard watched in palpable relief as Jim's heart stuttered back to life.
The serum had been completed only hours ago, and as the Starfleet hospital team had injected the compound into Jim's motionless corpse, Leonard tried to brace himself for the possibility that his best friend might never wake up.
It didn't help, but thank Jesus, Leonard didn't need it to.
Radiation specialists descended the moment Jim had been declared alive, and though Leonard had been forced onto the sidelines, he couldn't help but feel proud. 'I don't believe in no-win scenarios.' Jim had said that once, hadn't he? Blustering, presumptuous idiot that he was, at the very least, Jim stuck to his convictions.
Couldn't even let himself die … Lucky bastard, since if he had, Leonard would've had to go into the afterlife and kill him again.
"Excuse me, Doctor McCoy," an English accented voice said from beside him. Leonard pulled his head out of his hands and looked up from the uncomfortable chair to face another doctor, going by her uniform. A green-skinned nurse stood by her side, and even though Leonard knew that Jim was still laying in that biobed, alive but unconscious, he briefly considered they'd come to complain about the captain. "My name is Venara."
"Yes, what is it?" Leonard prompted in impatience. He was tired, damn it, hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since before they'd left to get Khan from that Klingon planet, and it had already been two days since they'd made their questionable landing on Earth.
"One of the crewmembers from your ship, Lieutenant Waters from Engineering, is in my care. She's trying to discharge herself, but she's only just woken. She won't listen to me, and I was wondering if you might try and convince her to stay for a little while longer," the doctor explained, and Leonard's mind stirred with a vague familiarity.
Waters … hadn't he heard that name before?
"What's wrong with her?" Leonard questioned in irritation as he stood on shaky legs. Was it a law of the universe that once one idiot fell asleep, another one woke to ruin his life?
"You may recall that she was pierced by a piece of engineering equipment in her abdomen," the other doctor whose name he had already forgotten continued as they walked. Oh, that idiot. Leonard remembered having to leave Jim's side to deal with her and those two others from a similar area. "Not to mention the internal contusion to her brain and the amount of radiation and smoke we had to clear."
Had it really been that bad? Everything else but Jim had faded into murky memories. Leonard followed the doctor and the nurse into a small room where a thin hospital gown covered a determined looking officer. The fierce expression on her face reminded him so much of Jim that Leonard had to glance away for a moment to recover.
Jim was going to be fine.
"Thank you," she said softly as the nurse handed her a box full of her things, and Leonard wondered what Jim might say to the lieutenant. Protective of his crew to a fault, the stupid kid was, but if Jim were awake, he'd be the same as Waters. Begging to be let out as soon as possible.
Still, he had a reputation to maintain.
"Are you outta your goddamn mind, Lieutenant? Not only did you get stabbed by a – whatever the hell screwdriver wrench thing – you got a major fucking brain injury. And now you've been up for," Leonard checked the chart at the end of her bed, "half an hour, so you think it's time to what, go home?"
Braindead idiot, but so was Jim.
For Jim...
Screw protocol. For Jim, he'd make the call, and let Waters go.