Author's Note: I met that self-imposed writing deadline, so here is the next chapter. Thank you, Diamondblue4 and Junker5, for the beta!
Although I do research and try to make things as plausible as I can, I'll be taking some liberty throughout this fic concerning science/medicine. Please also note that this chapter includes another warning for implied/referenced child abuse.
When I last updated, chapter two never showed up as updating on the 16th, and the story didn't move to the top, either. Hopefully, the site is cooperating with me today. FYI, if it isn't, I will be deleting this chapter and reposting. :)
This chapter begins with Bones's POV, beginning soon after Harris contacts him regarding Jim. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoy the chapter...
oOo
Chapter 3
When Did I Lose You
oOo
Leonard's no fool when it concerns Jim—except in matters of the heart.
The second he'd stepped out of Jim's quarters, every bone in his body screamed at him to turn around and apologize for giving him the cold shoulder and, for once and for all, speak openly with him.
He'd wallowed in his self-pity instead. Deep guilt that his negligence at the party had nearly killed Jim keeping him from going back. The fear of rejection and of destroying a friendship stopping him from proclaiming his love. His weak justification that Jim needed time apart, sparing himself from vulnerably baring his heart.
No, he's nobody's fool, if one took all of that out of the equation. But he is single-minded, especially when it concerns Jim's health. When not one but three guards are positioned in front of Jim's quarters, he immediately recognizes that something is seriously wrong. A man, who looks to be about his own age, guards the door to Jim's quarters, while two others flank him. He assumes that he's Lieutenant Harris, the very one who notified him of this 'emergency.'
He picks up his stride.
"You are Doctor McCoy, I presume?" the Lieutenant asks once Leonard reaches the door.
"I am," Leonard says.
"I'm Lieutenant Harris," he says with a clipped nod. "Spock is with the Captain now, but if I could first have a moment of your time."
A moment of his time?
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought this was urgent," Leonard asserts. "If it is, perhaps we should postpone our talk."
Harris stands, stoic and unmoving. "I'm afraid I can't let you in yet."
"If this involves Jim and is a medical emergency, which I'm guessing is the case, you have to let me through," he says pointedly, nodding towards the door. "In fact, I outrank you, Lieutenant. You contacted me, requesting that I return to Jim's quarters as soon as possible. Yet, here you are stalling."
"It's in your best interest that you take a moment and listen to what I have to say," Harris says. "Commodore Paris suggested—"
Leonard lifts a brow. "The Commodore?"
"Yes, given the nature of this incident, it was necessary to alert her of the situation. She suggested you take a moment to prepare yourself. As assistant head of security and also part of this investigation, I insist that you make sure your head is on straight before you see the Captain."
He narrows his eyes at the unprofessional insult. "My head on straight?"
"Circumstances dictate that we look at this from all angles, and quickly, Doctor McCoy," Harris says in a low voice. "Our investigation is continuing, even now. His comm has been confiscated for investigative purposes and holos of the scene already taken. I've been informed that Captain Kirk's comm was open to his most recent message. Yours."
The implication that his message has something to do with this incident, whatever it is, is gut wrenching.
"I did send him a message," he admits quietly. "I'll be honest and say I'm not happy that our private life is being looked into."
Harris looks at him apologetically. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but as part of this ongoing investigation, it was necessary. We believe the message came through just seconds before..." Harris hesitates.
"Before what?" he asks, losing his patience.
"We're not sure what happened," Harris says under his breath, "but the Captain is...no longer himself."
A knot grows like an annoying weed in the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean?"
"There's no easy way to say this," Harris says softly. "Your captain has regressed in age. He is now a child, Doctor McCoy."
The air collapses around him, his throat shrinking along with it. "Excuse me?" he chokes out. "I thought I heard you say Jim is a child."
"That's exactly what I said," Harris says quietly. "And given what was in that message to Captain Kirk, I feel obligated to ask that you treat him with care, to give yourself a moment before you enter his quarters and see him for yourself. Pardon my candor, but the Jim you last messaged is not the Jim in these quarters. Please put whatever it is that is going on between the two of you aside, for Jimmy's sake."
"Jimmy?" he echoes.
Harris nods. "He told us his name is Jimmy. He does not remember his life before he regressed, only the short time of his past up until his current young age."
"How old?" he asks with more control than he's actually feeling, ignoring any further discussion about his damn mistake of a message to Jim.
It doesn't matter that Jim has missed all his signals, or that he is blind to the fact that he cares for Leonard. What kind of friend sends their Captain and supposed best friend a message that says stay the hell away? Or doesn't give a man a second chance?
He imagines Harris thinks he should be stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe. He has to agree that it might be the best place for him, given his folly.
But Harris's expression softens, giving credence to his claim that Jim had regressed in age. "I believe him to be three or four years of age. However, compared to my own son, he seems a bit thin. I'm having a change of clothing sent up. Loose clothing. He's feverish and probably won't be comfortable in anything that's restrictive."
The last sentence sends him into action.
"I need to examine him immediately," he says, voice hushed. "This could be related to the drink he ingested last night, but if it isn't, it won't be any less dangerous. Jim has a lifetime of allergies and complications, Lieutenant, that could also be a factor. The sooner I see him, the sooner I can bring Captain Kirk back to us."
"Yes, of course." Harris steps aside, but clutches Leonard's arm as the door slides open, holding him back. "One more thing. He's frightened and sick, and believes he is lost, which is a disastrous combination for such a young child," he says, eyes filled with concern. "I'm certain the Commander has used his touch telepathy to calm him. He has him in the shower to try to cool him down."
There is no doubt in Leonard's mind that Harris is a loving, doting father to his own children. The reprimand he'd given him hurts, but he can't fault him for it. On the contrary, it's a relief that someone else shows deep compassion for the situation and, most of all, for Jim.
"Thank you," he says humbly.
"If you need anything, just let us know," Harris adds just before Leonard enters Jim's quarters.
He squares his shoulders and heads for the bedroom and the adjoining bathroom. He doesn't hesitate once he's at the shower door, though he's half-afraid Spock stripped before taking Jimmy in with him. He holds his breath and opens it.
Water sprays onto his face, but it's of no consequence.
He sees nothing but the angelic-looking, blonde-haired child in Spock's arms. The child that is, without a doubt, his best friend.
"Doctor McCoy," Spock says.
He's silently screaming on the inside that this is a joke. Jim is an adult. A fully grown, capable adult. He's not a boy. Not a child. Especially not a child who looks to be hardly older than a babe.
"Doctor McCoy," Spock says, spitting water out of his mouth.
He's close to wallowing in self-pity again. He wants Jim, came to his quarters to see him. To fix him.
But this innocent, beautiful, blue-eyed child? He is not Jim. He is small and scared. He's...helpless.
He's certain that his heart is bleeding out. This can't be real. He'd left these quarters, giving Jim time to come to the same conclusion as he had. That he loves him. He came back, hoping that Jim had figured it out and all would be well between them.
But this child knows nothing of that. He knows nothing of his past life. All he knows is that he's unwell, being held in the shower to cool down. That he might even be lost.
His heart cracks more, softening towards this child that he suddenly wants to cradle in his own arms and protect from the world.
"Doctor McCoy."
Spock's voice is harsher, snapping him out of his shock and back into the real world.
This small, innocent Jim needs him like never before and it is his duty to care for him as best as he can.
"Sweet Jesus," he whispers once he finds his voice. "Jim?" he asks, holding on to an illogical sliver of hope that Spock will tell him differently.
But the Vulcan doesn't deny it.
Jimmy whimpers, tucking his head into Spock's chest as if to hide. It's not right that he hides from him, his best friend, but the fear is unmistakeable.
The water streams down the boy's face and Spock lifts his hand, holding it carefully over Jim's face to shield his eyes.
There's something that nags at his mind, what he thinks he saw when he opened the shower door but had been too shocked to focus on. He quickly looks over Jim's bare skin, what he can see of it. It doesn't take him long to find it—the bruise, the rash dipping lower onto his legs and buttocks.
"No," he whispers, heart sinking when it's confirmed. "Is that…?"
Jim didn't have a bruise like that on his body. The only way he could have the bruise...is if someone had put it there.
It perplexes him and he reaches out, gently touching it. Jimmy squirms away from his fingers, and Leonard is snapped into reality again.
"Hush," Spock whispers in Jimmy's hair. "No one will hurt you."
Leonard sucks in a breath. He slowly pulls his hand away, understanding dawning. Jim is afraid of him. He'd approached him too fast, scaring him.
He'd known better. He prays it isn't a mistake that will cause Jimmy to distrust him. Because it's ultimately Frank's fault Jim flinches away. It's Frank's fault this bruise looks like it hurts. It's all Frank's damn fault.
His eyes grow wet, and it's not from the stream of water.
"Damn bastard," he strangles out before he can think twice.
He lifts his eyes to Spock. Does he see the devastation on his face that he feels in his heart? It's overtaking him, but he can't allow that to happen. He's a doctor and a damn good one who's faced bigger challenges than this. There has to be a way to fix this.
"Let's get him to sickbay," Leonard says, stating the obvious to help himself focus on his duty.
"We must clear the way," Spock says, his hand dutifully shielding Jim's—Jimmy's—eyes from the water. "To do otherwise is unacceptable. He will be frightened."
It's on the tip of his tongue to ask if Spock knows he's frightened by him. But he pushes the question aside. Now isn't the time to wallow in the tragic aftermath of his own actions or throw a pity party that the man he loves is, essentially, displaced at the moment.
He has a child to care for. Jim. A three or four-year-old little boy, for God's sakes.
He nods. "I'll take care of that, or ask Harris to. He's still here. First, however, I'll grab a few towels. Stay right where you are, Spock," he orders. "Under the water with him so he doesn't catch a chill." He hesitates. "So that you don't either, for that matter."
"Agreed," Spock says, but it's obvious where his focus lies—on Jim.
Leonard briefly closes his eyes as he turns. He doesn't even know where to begin with this. Jim, a child? How? Had it been the poison? The antidote? Something else altogether? Why the fever? Is it a side effect of the age regression?
And that bruise...that isn't from any injury Jim had sustained two days ago. Neither is the rash something he'd had before, either. There is only one, logical conclusion to explain the bruise, and it squeezes the life from his heart.
Frank.
He stands at Jim's closet nauseated, and reaches for two towels, but grabs three. He sets one on the bed beside his tricorder, considering how a man like Frank could still be living. And not only living, but dwelling in that same damn house where the crimes had been committed.
Had Winona learned nothing?
Her brother might have gone to prison for twelve years, but he'd also rehabilitated after his release. Supposedly.
Jim never went back to see for himself.
And why would he? He'd have to be out of his ever-lovin' mind to breathe the same damn air as the man who'd abused him. Besides, Winona never made it a point to step foot in her own home, hardly visiting Earth in the first place. Maybe that's why she doesn't care that Frank, one of her last living relatives, dwells in her old house. Jim had always thought it was the way his mother could ease the guilt in her own mind that her brother was a monster—not abandon him completely, but allow him to stay at the house while she moved on the best she could.
Leonard never liked that explanation, but he kept quiet. It was like no one seemed to care what Jim's thoughts were on the matter.
He grabs a shirt and a pair of sweatpants that tie at the waist from Jim's drawers and sets them on the bed for Spock to change into later. He dashes back into the bathroom at the same time he sees Harris from the corner of his eye, entering the bedroom with a pile of clothing in his arms. He doesn't have time to acknowledge him and wordlessly heads for the shower.
Leonard places one towel on a hook on the wall beside the shower stall. "That's for you, Spock. I know the water temperature is far from ideal." He takes a breath and unfolds the other towel while looking at Jimmy, who was peeking through Spock's fingers over his face at him. "Alright, time to switch."
"Computer," Spock states. "End shower."
The water fades away. Jimmy already shivers in the cool air, droplets of water on his lashes.. After placing the towel on his shoulders, letting much of it drape and pool into his hands, Leonard smiles at his now tiny Captain.
"Time to get dry, Buddy," he says softly. "I'm Doctor McCoy, and I will be taking you to sickbay, where we will help you feel better."
Jimmy shrinks back.
"You look like a big boy," he says, undeterred. "Did you recently have a birthday? Maybe...yesterday?"
Leonard can't describe the relief he feels when Jimmy's eyes brighten. He'd gambled on the birthday, but the timing seemed too perfect.
"Let's see," he says slowly. "You must be...five?"
Jimmy shakes his head.
"Four?" Leonard says softly.
The small Captain nods, a shy smile growing on his face.
"You are a big boy," he breathes, holding his hands out with the towel, wanting to hold on to that smile forever. "Did you have cake?"
"Uh-huh. Hoshi made my cake," Jimmy whispers.
Spock lifts Jimmy up and Leonard promptly takes him from Spock's arms, swiftly wrapping the towel around the child's body.
"Hoshi," Leonard repeats, recalling the kind woman, a linguist, who'd most likely given Jim the only few happy memories he had of his childhood. "I bet she made you your favorite. She stays with you sometimes, doesn't she?"
Jimmy wriggles in his arms, but not for long. Leonard holds him close, adjusting the towel around his face so he can see his surroundings better.
"Uh-huh." He looks up at Leonard then back at Spock, eyes watery and pleading. "Don't feel good, Mister Spock."
"The doctor will care for you," Spock says softly. "You do not need to be afraid of him."
Jimmy turns his head away from Leonard, but Leonard does not relent. "I know you're feeling sick, Jimmy," he breathes, carrying him to the bed. "But you will feel better soon, I promise."
He lays him down, drying him with the second towel with tender thoroughness. As he does so, he takes a closer look at the rash, the small bumps accompanying it, which he now sees is also on Jimmy's hands and feet.
Jimmy sniffles, bringing his hand up to his face. Leonard grasps it before he can slip his fingers in his mouth. The child cries out, struggling with his limited strength.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy," he says gently, not letting go of his wrist. "But no fingers in your mouth. You have a rash on your hand and I don't want it to spread."
The boy's tears fall, coursing down his cheeks and onto the towel beneath him. His lower lip wobbles more, but he allows Leonard to guide his hand down by his side.
"You'll be alright, Buddy," he soothes him, stroking his hair back though he tries yet again to squirm away from him. "We'll find something for you to hold to get your mind off your fingers. What's your favorite stuffed animal?"
Jimmy stills at the question. "B-Bunny," he whispers. He sniffles, eyes wide and wet.
He smiles softly at him. "A bunny. I think we can come up with that."
"Doctor?" Spock says from behind him just as he'd reached for his tricorder. "What is this rash on his body?"
"Hand, foot, and mouth disease," Leonard explains without looking back, even before the tricorder confirms it for him. "It rarely shows up on the legs and buttocks, but you know Jim. He has to be the rare case," he adds in a mutter.
He waits, taking in the additional readings, some of which he'd assumed instantly when he first saw Jim in his child state. Malnourishment. Dehydration. Low level of electrolytes. A temperature of 39.8 degrees Celsius.
And more that he will have to contend with once they're in sickbay.
He sets down the tricorder and grabs the underwear from the pile of clothes that Harris had left on the bed for Jimmy and begins guiding it up past the child's feet. "I'll help you get dressed now, Jimmy, then we will make our way to sickbay."
But Jimmy isn't listening. His eyes are glazed and drooping as he stares up at the ceiling.
"Poor kiddo," he whispers, tugging the underwear up to his hips, being careful of the large bruise. He sighs, shaking his head as he reached for the shirt next. "Jim received the vaccine for the disease when he was a kid, but whatever caused this, might have reversed…"
His voice trails off as he considers what could be the wildest explanation he'd ever theorized for a medical problem.
Jim had had to be vaccinated all over again after Tarsus. Could the regression have undone all of that? Going backwards, reversing the vaccinations for a second time? It made sense, in a radical way. If so, why hadn't the irradiation had the same effect? Had Jim actually felt these things happen to him all at once when he'd regressed?
He inwardly shivers, stopping before he gets ahead of himself before he's even studied Jim's blood.
"I have reason to believe he's highly susceptible to numerous viruses and diseases right now, Spock," he says swiftly. He curves his arm around the base of Jimmy's neck, lifting the boy's head off the bed to tug the shirt down over the upper part of his body. Jimmy is even more lethargic, so he's not surprised that his arms are limp and a dead weight as he pulls them through the armholes. "I'll have to contain him in sickbay, take all precautions while we give him all of his vaccinations."
If they could give him vaccines. If they could, it wasn't going to be pleasant but for the sake of their small Captain, it had to be done.
"I'll know more once we test his blood," he explains softly, relieved the shirt seems to be a good fit, if a bit on the loose side.
He pauses in the process of dressing Jim and reaches for his communicator. "McCoy to Chapel."
If he were lucky, she'd be in sickbay, offering assistance. She, of all his staff, hated to be twiddling her thumbs the most.
"This is Nurse Chapel," she says.
"I need a child's extra-small biomask brought up to the Captain's quarters right away," he says. "And 6 ml of the fever-reducing med Jim isn't sensitive to—acetaminophen."
"Child?" she repeats.
"Yes," he affirms. "I'll explain once you get here. Christine, please don't delay."
"I understand. Chapel out."
He sets down his comm and pulls the pants on Jimmy next, being careful of the rash on Jim's feet. But they're cool to the touch, in spite of the fever, and he can't help but envelop them with his much warmer hands.
Jimmy blinks sleepily several times, a light puff of air escaping his mouth. A child-sized happy sigh, Leonard thinks to himself. He folds his hands around the tiny feet even more, gently squeezing them at a few points he knew felt good to Jim as an adult.
Soon, Jimmy's eyes drift shut. A faint, contented smile crosses his face, enhancing his young, sweet features.
"Well, that's just adorable," Leonard whispers. Who knew that he'd like his feet massaged at such a young age?
"Indeed," Spock says softly.
"He may be four, but he's a young four. Merely a baby," he murmurs.
He looks back at Spock, and does a double take. The Commander's wet clothing sticks to him. He'd also begun to shiver.
"You're still wet," he comments guiltily. "I must have forgotten to tell you about the clothes."
Spock lifts his brows, patting his face dry with the towel. "As I do not have clothing to change into—"
"Yes, you do," he says. He stands and gathers Jimmy in his arms, this time holding him upright instead of cradling him, allowing his head to rest on his shoulder. "I set that pile of Jim's clothing there for you to borrow so you can get to your own quarters without leaving a trail of water on the floor. They'll be a little loose on ya, but you could do worse."
Spock scoops up the clothing, then pauses. "He is sleeping."
"Probably for the best," Leonard says. "Don't think he'd let me hold him otherwise. He seems to have taken a shine to you."
"I was the first one to comfort him, that is all."
"It's more than that," Leonard says with a short and humorless laugh.
Spock opens his mouth, no doubt to question him, but Harris appears in the doorway.
"I've taken the liberty to clear the way to sickbay. Your escort is ready when you are and will take you to the closest exit, where a shuttle awaits you," he says. "They will remain with the Captain in sickbay."
"Is that really necessary?" Leonard asks, frowning.
"This very well could've been an accident. However, if this was premeditated, his life is still in danger, Doctor McCoy. The fact that he has regressed in age does indicate that someone could be viciously attacking his very emotional and physical well-being, wanting to torment him over time," Harris says firmly. "We cannot ignore this at Yorktown. Simply put, we must show that we do not condone threats made to a Starfleet officer—or anyone."
"If this was premeditated, that person is a sicko," Leonard mutters.
Spock stiffens beside him. "It is a logical yet rather unpleasant conclusion, Lieutenant."
"I don't like the idea of it either, but we will not take unnecessary risks," Harris says. "Commodore Paris is giving you the equivalent of your own personal bodyguards."
Leonard still doesn't like it. Their small Captain is very sick and does not need more eyes upon him, his privacy invaded, than is necessary in sickbay. Especially when he has no idea what past history his current condition is going to dredge up.
"It is logical, Doctor," Spock says.
Leonard looks at Spock. "Maybe so, but our young Jim is smart. He'll notice. He's a brave boy, but I won't be surprised if their presence frightens him on some level."
"I'm sorry," Harris says. "These are my orders, and since your young charge is the Captain, precautions must be taken."
"We're ready," Leonard says. He glances sideways at Spock, mouth firming. "Spock, I could use you in sickbay."
"I will come to sickbay as soon as I am able," he says.
"Thank you, Spock," he says quietly.
He wanders into Jim's living space, rubbing the small Captain's back when he stirs. The constant motion seems to soothe the child. He stands there another moment before Christine arrives at the door, out of breath from her rushed journey.
"Lord have mercy," she gasps, eyes wide as she stares at the child in his arms. "Is that…?"
He sighs. "Yes, it's undoubtedly our Captain."
She clasps a hand over her mouth. "Oh," she says, her cry muffled. "And he's sick."
"Let's get that mask on Jimmy first," he says quietly. "Then give him the med, Chris."
She blinks, dropping her hand. She barely finished swallowing before she opened her mouth again to speak. "Jimmy. Of course," she says, voice strangled.
She adjusts Jimmy's head on Leonard's shoulder, then slips the mask over the child's face.
"I hope this doesn't wake him up," she says under her breath, right before she administers the medication. "Poor dear."
Leonard hopes the same thing. He hates the thought of Jim feeling more hurt than he already is. He plans on sedating him once they get him in sickbay.
Jimmy whimpers at the pinch, his arms tightening around Leonard, squeezing his heart at the same time. He kisses his forehead.
"Shhh," he whispers. "Go back to sleep."
Christine worriedly watches the exchange. "The regression in age did more than make him young again. You believe he's susceptible to illnesses now, don't you?"
He knew she'd catch on quickly. "Yes," he admits, as Jimmy relaxes in his arms again. He follows Harris outside Jim's quarters, Christine right behind them. "We can't take any chances with anything, Chris."
"The Commodore would like to be notified when she can come to see the Captain for herself," Harris says before he goes. "She sends her best, however."
"I'll contact her when I know more about his condition," Leonard declares.
"Good luck," Harris says.
Leonard turns to go, but hesitates. He'd almost forgotten. "We do need a stuffed animal. A bunny. It's his favorite."
"How sweet," Christine murmurs, looking tenderly at the sleeping child.
"A bunny?" Harris rubs his jaw. "I will see what I can do."
"I imagine you'll find it quicker than anyone else," Leonard says sotto voce.
Harris smiles. "I love kids, Doctor McCoy. They keep you young. Some days, I dream of retiring early and staying at home with my children. But it's just that. A dream."
As he turns away to walk with Christine and their bodyguards, he has to agree. Retiring early sounds like a dream.
oOo
He wakes up feeling funny all over and in a room with hardly any light. The doctor and a pretty lady are by his side in white clothing, talking.
They are talking about him.
"He's moderately dehydrated, bordering on severe," the doctor says. "Since the age regression has taken its toll on his body, we'll begin fluid therapy right away. Then we'll run blood tests before anything else."
Too frightened to make a noise, he pretends he's just hiding in his room, under his bed. Like he does when Uncle Frank is around and Mommy isn't.
"He's awake, Leonard," the lady says softly.
He likes her voice. It's like the glowing, endless rainbow he sees outside his bedroom window after it rains. He peers up at her, hoping she'll help him not be afraid.
"Jimmy, we're in sickbay, just like I told ya you would be," the doctor says, smiling down at him. "If you feel funny, that's because I put the bed in stasis. But I'll undo that right now."
The doctor pushes a button, the funny sensation he had quickly leaving him. He feels everything now. Being lost. Behind scared. He's still hot, but not as much as before.
Tears collect in his eyes but he sticks out his jaw. He doesn't want to cry again. "Mommy?" he whispers.
"Did Mister Spock tell you about your mother?" the doctor asks gently.
He nods.
"She is a Commander on a starship, and we will contact her once we've given you medication to feel better," he says. "But, first, are ya thirsty?"
He turns his head, looking out at the rest of the room. He's the only one on a bed. The only kid. The only one lost. They'd told him he wasn't lost, but he doesn't remember how he got here. He must be lost.
"Jimmy, I'd like for you to drink some water."
The tears fall anyway.
His hip and leg hurts. He wants Mister Spock. "Mister Spock?"
He isn't sure the doctor likes him.
"Oh, Jimmy," the doctor whispers, his voice cracking in a way that he doesn't understand. "He'll be here to see you in a little while. I'll just bring the water over to you, anyway, and you can try to drink from the straw."
His bed moves up so he is sitting up. He's dizzy and squeezes his eyes shut. A hand brushes along his forehead, also wiping his tears.
When the straw touches his lips, he opens his eyes and obediently sips from it. The doctor looks happy that he's drinking the water. Like he cares.
He's confused. Is the doctor nice like Mister Spock?
"I'll let you drink a little more, but then I will have to sedate you. Do you know what that means?"
He's never heard that word before. He shakes his head no.
"Okay," the doctor says, his eyes softening. "It just means we're going to let you sleep for awhile. When you wake up again, you'll have what's called an IV line, a catheter like this, connected to your hand," he says, holding it up. Jimmy squints at it. It doesn't look like anything special to him. "Several of them. You can't move around a lot when you wake up, but they might feel a little uncomfortable. I'm telling you this now, Jimmy, so that you aren't scared when you wake up."
"'Kay," he whispers, ignoring the straw. He's too tired to drink anymore.
"The good news is, kiddo," the doctor says, pulling the water away. "I have your bunny."
Jimmy looks at him in anticipation, his heart doing a little skip. If he had his bunny, it might seem like home here. Or like Hoshi's house. Hoshi let him play with her carved animals. Let him drink lemonade. Didn't mind when he played in mud. And always let him play with the carved bunny most of all. He liked sliding his fingers over the long, curved ears and his bumpy tail.
The nurse hands the doctor the bunny, who then tucks it under Jimmy's arm.
He burrows his face in it, snuggling it with all he's worth. Worried that they'd take it away once they 'sedate' him, he holds it as tightly to himself as he can, clenching his hand around its softness. It's softer than anything he'd ever had.
"Okay, it's time to sleep now, Jimmy, now that you have your bunny. I bet you already have a name picked out for him," the doctor drawls, ruffling his hair.
He nods. He does have a name picked out. But it's a secret. He's not telling anyone.
The doctor's lips twitch like he's laughing. "I knew you would. You're gonna feel a little pinch, Buddy, but I promise that's all you'll feel," he says warmly. "And I'll be here when you wake up."
The pinch hurts but quickly fades like the doctor promised. Then, he's drifting away like a cloud high in the sky.
He'll still never tell his bunny's name. It doesn't sound like a name for a bunny, but he likes it.
It's...Bones.
Author's Note: Hoshi Sato was a linguist born in the 22nd century. She served on the Enterprise NX-01. My reasons for including/referencing her will come to light in future chapters, as will a better explanation as to how/why Jim knows her.
For the sake of argument, (most if not all) vaccinations in the ST universe are truly safe. FYI, I don't want to get into discussions one way or another about them here. It's not the right place, being that the topic is a bit touchy.
Next update will be this weekend...thanks so much for following along and reading! :)