His was the third room on the left of the long-term care wing, where most patients were merely living out the rest of their lives, knowing there was nothing that could save them now.
Jim Kirk, however, was said to be different. He was a case that hadn't been declared terminal yet, even though the outlook was rather grim. None of the nurses ever said it to Jim, though, because they didn't want to see his sunshine spirit dampened unless there was an absolute certainty he wouldn't survive.
Dr. Leah McCoy though it was ridiculous that they let him cling to false hope, but what did she know? She was just filling in for a few weeks while Dr. Uhura took maternity leave. All the nurses seemed to love him as they'd all mentioned to her what a sweetheart he was.
With a sigh, she knocked on his door and entered the room where a much younger man than she'd expected was reading off of a PADD. It always made her ache a little to see people barely in the prime of life with such serious illnesses, but she didn't dare dwell too much on it, otherwise it made her job even harder.
"James Kirk?" She asked, clutching the chart with his information on it. His head popped up and big blue eyes in a pale, but finely shaped face looked at her curiously before crinkling in a smile. "Yep, that's me. You the new doc?"
She nodded. "I'm Dr. Leah McCoy and I'm going to be filling in for Dr. Uhura for the next few weeks. I've already heard plenty about you from the nurses."
James chuckled sheepishly, adjusting the yellow beanie cap that covered his bald head. He had been fighting a tumor around his spine that was inoperable and had not been responding to treatments recently.
"I guess I just have natural charm, Dr. McCoy. Please, call me Jim. He held out a hand and she shook it, noting the strength still there.
"Well, Jim, how're you finding your hospital care?"
"It's not bad, except for chemo. I finally feel better after the last round, and then it's time for another one." He made an annoyed face.
"It gets a little absurd when people came in here with long faces acting like I'm going to drop dead any second. They all say I'm in denial, but I'm not ready to give up yet. I refuse to believe in no-win scenarios."
"That's not always a bad thing, Jim," Leah said, checking his vitals and writing down observations. "This can be a depressing place and it's good for us to see a cheery face on our rounds. You get a lot of visitors?"
"Not really," Jim admitted a little sadly. "My family's either dead or too far away to come. Sometimes Gaila will wheel me to Kevin's room and we'll watch a game together. However, a pretty new doctor is a nice consolation."
Ignoring the flirtatious comment, Leah got down to business. "How's your back feeling? Pain levels? And don't lie to me, young man. I'm experienced at seeing through white lies."
Leah put her hands on her hips and inspected him. There definitely was a tightness around his eyes that gave it away.
"Young man? You don't look old enough to be calling me that," Jim responded cheekily.
Leah flushed. She certainly FELT old these days, with the stress of her job and being a single mother. She began to understand what the nurses meant by Jim being their favorite.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jim", she said abruptly. "According to your history, I'm six years older than you, but evading won't work on me. Now tell the truth. That's the best way for me to be able to help you."
He sighed. "Yeah, it's about a six. I never could fool Uhura either."
"Good," Leah said calmly. Your job is not to fool us to look tough, it's to tell us exactly what hurts so we can make it better."
She adjusted his meds accordingly and Jim soon relaxed a bit.
"Ahh. That's better, thanks. I don't like to make a big deal about it. You guys have enough to do already."
Leah looked at him: his expressive face, the sparkling eyes, the firm jaw, the garish yellow hat with a black Starfleet symbol crocheted on it and her heart cracked a little. She couldn't get emotionally invested, no matter how precious Jim was. It would only hurt more when he died. She'd seen his prognosis and it wasn't good: the cancer was starting to spread despite the treatments.
"So, you know someone in Starfleet?" She asked casually.
"Yeah," Jim said with a smile. "My godfather, Admiral Christopher Pike. I was going to be a Starship captain just like him before I got sick. He's promised me a tour of the Enterprise when it gets back."
"Hmm. You one of those crazy space-loving kids?" She questioned with a shudder.
"Of course, space is fascinating: All that vastness and strange new worlds just waiting to be explored"
Jim exclaimed with enthusiasm. His eyes glowed even brighter as he expounded on the wonders of space exploration and warp speed.
"Kid, do you not realize Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence?" She queried in disbelief.
"One crack in the hull and your blood boils. And what if you get sucked into space? Instant ice cube. I've heard catching Andorian Shingles or Cardassian Pox is no joke, either."
She applied several hypos while she talked, Jim wincing at each one, but shaking his head at her griping.
"So, I take it you're not the adventurous type, Dr?" He asked in some amusement.
"Nope," she responded shortly. "Raising a daughter alone and working long hours is adventure enough for me, especially since her bum father ran off and left me with nothing but my bones."
"Aww, man, that's rough, Bones," he said sympathetically. "Man must have been a fool."
"He was, unfortunately," Leah confirmed. "Now, Jim, I need you to take a deep breath for me."
The next time she saw Jim, he was wearing an even more ridiculous blue jester-style hat that had three long floppy points with bells on the tips. It was so absurd, she stopped to stare in amazement. Her patient was toying with a collection of model starships and seemed as happy as a boy as he enacted a mock battle. He looked more like 12 than 25 right then and it made her cynical heart soften just looking at him.
"Hey, Bones," he greeted with a smile. "Come to shoot me full of hypos again?"
"Only a couple this time, you infant." She rolled her eyes. "Nice hat, by the way."
"Thanks," Jim smirked. "I've been told it matches my eyes. He winked at her shamelessly and her heart did a little flip.
Normally, a patient with Jim's energy and spirits wouldn't need to be admitted quite yet, but the tumor had rendered his legs nearly useless.
Leah knew It must frustrate an active person like him to be stuck in a hospital bed, but he did a good job of hiding it.
At the moment, Jester Jim was busy holding up each ship and explaining its type and historical significance to Starfleet.
"This is the NX-01 Enterprise that was around for the founding of the Federation and this is the USS Kelvin-my parent's old ship that got destroyed by Nero. Dad steered the ship into a collision so the shuttles could get away. I was born just seconds before he died saving us."
Leah's eyes bugged hearing his story. "George Kirk was your Dad?"
Jim turned the mini ship over in his hands, gazing at the saucer section wistfully.
"Yes. I'm the Kelvin Baby and it's been nothing but a nuisance," he sighed, wrinkling his small, round nose. "When I first got sick, I was besieged by people trying to make a connection between the cancer and me being born in a shuttle. I don't care how it happened, I just want it gone."
The tone of his voice betrayed his inner turmoil and Leah felt a deep sympathy for the man.
"You're a fighter, James T. Kirk," she assured him. "There are researchers working to advance techniques all the time. Maybe they'll find a way to take out tumors that used to be inoperable."
"Maybe." Jim said. "I know Uhura's husband is working hard to figure it out. He's a genius oncologist and researcher, even if he's as dry as sawdust, but he's a great guy once you get to know him. I've learned a lot about Vulcans and Romulans and their scandalous pasts."
Leah found the "great guy" part hard to believe. Spock aggravated her beyond all reason and she'd known him for five years. Part of it was because he was almost always right, darn him, and the other part was he was so smug about it. She didn't know how Uhura put up with him without going insane, but she couldn't deny they were sweet together and their newborn daughter was adorable.
"I see you don't believe me, but trust me, he does have a soft side," Jim said. "Every time he comes to visit he brings me a weird hat for my collection." He pointed to the blue monstrosity on his head. "This is one of his recent finds. I love it."
Leah shook her head in amazement as she left Jim's room. Even the cool, aloof Spock had fallen under Jim's spell. Would wonders never cease?
Unfortunately, Jim had his chemo treatment the following day and was a pale, miserable, ghost when she went to check on him.
"Hi, Jim," she whispered, seeing how wiped out he was. The blue eyes fluttered open slightly, dark rings underneath them showing Jim's exhaustion. He clutched a bowl to his side in case of vomiting, which frequently happened after a treatment.
"Bones," he croaked out, "nice of you to drop by. I'm not the best company right now, I'm afraid. You look amazing in white, by the way." His eyes admired her fancy white scrubs and Leah blinked back tears.
"Thank you," she blurted out then remembered the delivery she'd been tasked with. "I brought something that might cheer you up a bit, Kirk. Joanna drew you a picture."
She held out the crayon drawing her daughter had made for "the nice lonely man at the hospital." It was a man in a yellow command shirt sitting on the captain's chair of a starship. Planets and comets could be seen out the window and various stick figures in blue and red uniforms were shown bustling around the bridge.
"I told her you liked starships and she drew this."
Jim smiled weakly and made a pleased noise.
"That's wonderful," he managed to whisper. "Tell her I love it. She seems like a sweet girl. I bet she gets her brains from you."
"Oh, she is and yes, she did," Leah responded proudly. "She's always making stuff to cheer people up. She'll ask me I'm thinking about finding her an art teacher, she's so interested in it."
While she talked, she carefully checked him over, concern for him warring with the logical mind that said this was normal for such aggressive treatment and would ease up in a few days.
The hat of choice today was a very soft looking stocking hat in a steel grey color with black stripes near the edges. "That looks comfy," she commented, as she finished her duties. Jim nodded blearily.
"S'my cozy hat. I save it for dire necessities or when I'm really cold. Doesn't it flatter my rugged good looks?" He tried a smirk which didn't quite succeed and Leah snorted.
"Your ego hasn't been damaged yet, that's clear. Rest well, Jim. Let's hope this round wipes out a bunch of that nasty cancer."
"Yeah, well, as long as it doesn't wipe ME out, too," Jim mumbled, closing his eyes again.
Leah couldn't think of anything to say to that that wouldn't sound like a complete empty platitude, only gave his shoulder an encouraging pat before she left. As she went on with her day, though, she said a prayer that Jim would beat the odds. He was one of two patients on the floor that still had a fighting chance and his courage seemed to brighten his fellow sufferers, as well.