It is an unusual night for Alice when she gets hurt in her combat class early in the day. She refuses to go to Med Bay in no other time but the latest of hours, when many are inebriated – after all, it's Friday and every cadet needs a break or else suffer the stress that is the consequence. Alice takes the stress – she even more so, juggling so many classes compared to some others, and decides to endure the pain and conceal her visible injuries with foundation and bandages, so she can attend her other lessons. Even though she doesn't wear makeup, Alice knows how to apply it.
She limps into the hospital at a horrific hour. The usual Friday night punch up victims are strewn over the waiting room, some on the floor, and she feels rather prim sat there, in pain but sober. She sees some of her colleagues – taking a position at the hospital to cover her spare time was wise, there're good people here – working with the faces of those who know that while they're tired, there's always someone in need.
Alice gets called after half an hour, miraculously. Whoever's on duty is quick – for which she's grateful, intending to return to her dorm and study after getting a few stitches. Following the nurse – who she knows – Alice waits patiently for her healer on the bed, wincing as she lifts her leg.
"How long have you been waiting for this, honey?" the nurse is kind, experienced, and tuts when Alice murmurs she put it off for nearly eight hours. "Well, you just wait there. You know you'll be okay." She thanks the nurse quietly and watches her leave. Even though she's nearly a doctor properly now, a tinge of apprehension still passes through her. Hopefully the doctor is as kind as he is efficient. There he is. A tall, tanned, muscular man with semi-tidy brown hair and – yes – kind hazel eyes, though he looks tired and grouchy.
"Name, cadet?" he asks wearily. "I'm McCoy, your patcher-upper for this evening."
"Alice Hadley, s-sir." She answers meekly, still unsure.
"Sober, too. How'd you get these, then?" he muses. "You haven't been out drinking. Or were you a victim of people who have been?"
"Combat class." He frowns.
"That was… when, cadet?" These Starfleet hot – shot types always seem to think they're invincible.
"Eight h-hours ago." Tutting like the nurse, he pulls over a stool. "It's just… I have med school too and I really didn't want to miss anything… I know I was silly. But I don't want to fail. I want to be a patcher-upper too." She smiles weakly as does he.
"Cadet Hadley, was it?"
"Alice. But Alice Hadley, yes. I'm surprised we haven't met before. Although shifts tend to pass in a bit of a haze for me." He actually laughs at this.
"Why were you fighting against someone so evidently bigger than you?"
"Commander Spock said we should fight against someone not our size."
"That hobgoblin." He grumbles, eying her bleeding ankle. "No offense, but you're titchy and not very strong by the looks of things. Were you wearing protective gear?"
"Yes, sir." She sighs. "I was pushed over and fell at an odd angle… but my partner didn't stop hitting me. The commander sent me out the class and gave my partner punishment for not stopping, but I just didn't want to fall behind, especially since I have more classes than most. Sorry." she's sincere and McCoy feels a rush of pity for this girl, so innocent and naïve, despite the recent Naradaissues. He outranks her now, waiting for the new mission to be assigned and for the Enterprise to be repaired, but not long ago he was a cadet as she is, though while she is younger than her peers, he was older. The desire to please, to be of use… he sees that in her eyes, though she's nearly asleep with exhaustion.
"Cadet?" she jumps and regards him with wide eyes. "I want to take a look."
"Oh," she says. "Okay." She removes the blood stained ankle bandage and McCoy supresses a gasp. The bone isn't protruding, but at an awkward angle – he'll need to reset it and suture the wound up.
"Is it all right?" she mumbles drowsily, and he shakes his head.
"Not an open fracture but pretty close. I'll need to reset it, looks dislocated." He pauses. "How did you walk on this for eight hours?"
"I'm nearly a doctor. Quick fixes I can do, though it appears they aren't so good – "she yawns, only increasing his perception of her as a naïve child – "-in the long run."
"You're right." He says, uncannily thinking of his daughter, Joanna, when he sees this girl. "Quick fixes are never as good as putting time in." She nods and lies back while he sorts tools out, almost asleep. A local sedative will suffice, but she is so near sleep anyway there's little need for it, though he does it to be sure. Sure enough, she drifts off when he's resetting it and smiles subconsciously. She looks properly content, the worried, strained look having left her face. He senses this is the only time she feels truly at rest, trying to do so much. He's reminded of his own academy days, trying to keep Jim out of trouble and sleeping on the Med Bay couch due to Kirk's female companions coming over in the evenings, though her main troubles are probably far from that. As he finishes, he glances at her one more time while she's asleep and smiles slightly.
Maybe Pike does know how to pick 'em…
A/N: Well, did you like this little one-shot? Do you think it should be a multi-chapter fic of his patients that he sees and more Academy reflection? Or did you hate it? Either way, I want to know!