Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.
Author's Note: HappytheExceed...here is the drama you were waiting for! It certainly won't be the last. :)
"Dr. McCoy, it is time to leave with our transport." McCoy's newest medical assistant stood beside him at the table where he'd not moved from the entire evening.
McCoy did not miss the compassion engrained in her words. McCoy could always count on Bria'lel to speak a command with great humility. She was the only one to remain near him after Jim left the bar. McCoy's body language encouraged no one to touch him. Good thing he and the medical assistant decided to become friends. He'd never been friends with one of the medical staff in such a manner, except for Nurse Chapel. He surprised himself with risking a friendship with a woman. It'd been easy. Bria'lel never flirted and McCoy never showed her more than what he wanted to have of his own- a friend.
"Dr. McCoy will drown his sorrows here, thank you very much."
"We all are hurt, doctor," said Uhura quietly. She folded her arms and sighed. "The bar is closing early. Surely you know it's best to leave with the rest of us."
"I'm not leaving until that bastard gets back in here and says to my face why he left us without a word." McCoy wanted him to grovel.
Actually, McCoy wanted to just see Jim alive, make sure this was real. His worry grew exponentially over the past eighteen months, thinking Jim went off the deep end or died in his grief and left an orphaned child somewhere.
"He left one hour and twenty-one minutes ago. You will see him tomorrow. We all need time to process now finding him," Uhura explained.
"Uhura, you sound too much like Spock."
"His daughter needed him."
"So he said."
"Leonard," said Bria'lel, "please come with us. Get some rest. You will feel better tomorrow."
"Dr. McCoy, it is not wise for you to remain here in your intoxicated state. I will have security remove you if you do not cooperate for your own safety." Spock's control burned McCoy's stomach more than the drink he kept chugging. He hid his pain in a way McCoy could never hide his own pain.
"Spock, I've held my own while I was drunker than a dog in worse places than this. I'm staying. I'll stay until I get thrown out."
McCoy did not think the bartender was innocent of Jim's identity. Lew ignored the party of seven while every other straggler he sent on their way. This was the place McCoy needed to be. A place he knew Jim frequented, according to the information Uhura received.
"Doctor."
"Spock, send a transport back to pick me up in an hour." He'd compromise.
"Leonard, may I stay with you as you linger?" Bria'lel asked.
How could he refuse the woman when she was so nice?
"As long as you don't drink. I'm drinking enough for the two of us."
"Very well," she said, and exchanged a look with Spock. "Captain?"
"Transport will return in an hour." Spock affirmed. He led the way for the others out of the Shipyard Bar. Chekov, older and wiser now, spared no glance back. Mr. Scott bravely gave McCoy a solemn wave goodbye. Sulu walked out without a word.
After they were gone, Bria'lel walked over to Lew and the two conversed for a minute. She was brave when she wanted to be. McCoy noticed the way Uhura worried about his medical assistant. McCoy would have never agreed to Bria'lel becoming part of his medical team if it hadn't been her quiet resolve coming out through the interview. And Admiral Archer being some long-lost relation.
"Leonard, you won't be bothered." Bria'lel sat down across from McCoy this time.
"Did you see the way he ignored us when he left?"
"He had to go to his daughter."
"He is great at deflecting."
Bria'lel smiled softly at him. "I've heard about that trait from many of you."
"I don't know how he has survived without my medical care the past eighteen months. That irks me the most. He didn't need me."
Why McCoy began to spill his heart out to this woman, he did not know. Maybe it was the way her eyes held a similar grief to what must be in his own.
"He was hurting, doctor. And caring for a child who has needs. He probably doesn't think of himself. Caring for a child is more than enough for a widower. Let alone one with special needs."
McCoy flinched. Bria'lel looked away from him, hand up on her face. He couldn't tell if she was wiping away tears or merely tired. It was late.
"So why did he leave us and not let us help."
"Other characteristics of your captain have trickled down my way, as well. Self-sufficiency being one of them."
"There has to be something else. This can't be all of it."
"We could find out tomorrow." Bria'lel was crying. McCoy, shocked at her emotion, was disgusted at himself for being a tad too selfish. Although, of all the crew members, he and Spock would be most affected, surely.
"I doubt he'll spill the beans." McCoy shoved a clean napkin across the table into her hand. "Here."
"Thank you," Bria'lel whispered.
"Have you ever lost someone you loved more than your own life?" McCoy blurted before he thought and instantly wished he could take the question back. It was with an incredible amount of heartache with which his medical assistant answered.
"I've lost two people whom I loved more than my own life."
"I'm sorry."
They sat, McCoy continuing to drown his sorrows with alcohol and, he supposed, Bria'lel waiting for McCoy to finish his pity party.
"It was kind of you to stay." He better stop drinking now. He did not want to embarrass this woman by stumbling out of the building when the transport came nor did he want to have her help him. She was petite, too small to shoulder any of a drunk.
He should've listened to Spock.
"I am sorry for the pain you are experiencing." Bria'lel traced the circle on the table with her finger where her glass of water had left residue. She looked up. "The bartender is coming over."
McCoy did not want to talk to anyone else, not with this current state of mind, but the bartender made himself comfortable in the chair right next to McCoy.
"You're the doctor from the Enterprise, correct?" Lew stretched his feet out in front of him.
"You're the bartender who asks too many questions."
"Leonard," scolded Bria'lel. McCoy didn't care. He wasn't in the mood for discussing much.
"I know who my band's guitar player is, and his name isn't David."
McCoy swirled the last bit of drink in his glass. "It is these days, apparently."
"He shouldn't be here."
"He wants to be."
"I met the kid when I thought myself the poorest man in the universe, working in this joint. That night he tore up the place," Lew laughed and shook his head, "well, it took me a few years, but I finally realized I was a rich man."
"Yeah. How so."
"I have a chance to meet some exceptional people. Kirk being one. I see him bending over backwards to pay back Roxie for her music lessons. He can't do that anymore." Lew leaned in towards McCoy. "Do you wish to know why?"
"I wish for David to tell me himself or not find out at all," snarled McCoy.
Lew sat back into his chair and folded his arms. "For all the camaraderie you two had in the past, which I've heard about through gossip in this place, I did not expect that from you, doctor."
"That camaraderie vanished when he did."
"He needs you. I like the kid. And if you really want Kirk to tell him yourself what he needs from you, I will try to restrain myself." Lew frowned at Bria'lel. "And you're also Starfleet?"
"A medical assistant for the Enterprise."
"You know, if you're going over to his house tomorrow," Lew cocked his eye at McCoy, "you'll have a hell of a time getting her through the door."
The bartender must have overheard Jim and Uhura. McCoy felt like shielding Bria'lel from what he knew would be Lew's continuing little speech. She paled, as if that knowledge was hers already.
"Is it that bad?" McCoy could hardly believe Jim would be so prejudiced. Then again, it wasn't McCoy's wife who had been left to die.
"He's had every single Ikaaran woman investigated that he's seen or heard of. I don't know how he accomplished that. One was arrested on false charges, but that was a year ago. He's mellowed a bit, but not much. Even more, any Ikaaran woman flees the second they acknowledge the rage he harbors."
"Thanks for the warning."
"No problem," Lew shrugged and nodded to Bria'lel. "You seem like a nice woman. Be careful around him. He's hurting so badly he can't see much more than what's right in front of him and he has that sweet little girl to take care of."
The bartender went back to wiping counters. McCoy's comm beeped. He didn't pick it up.
"The transport?" Bria'lel asked.
"Yup," McCoy scooted his chair back. Time to go. "I think."
His medical assistant sighed and looked at McCoy's comm. "It is. I can help you."
"Maybe you shouldn't come to Jim's house tomorrow," McCoy said.
"Do you doubt you can protect me from a man's anguish?"
"Usually no, but that which would come from Jim, yes." McCoy couldn't stand to think of anything happening to this Ikaaran woman. How could quiet Bria'lel take the negativity Jim had coming towards her tomorrow?
"I've lost before, Leonard. I can take it."
"Not from Kirk, you won't. He hunted those six women for months after his wife died. Without knowing their faces, which were lost in the records due to a cultural technicality, it was hopeless." McCoy recalled Jim's fury at that time. It was anger which peaked any other episode of Jim's.
"If hating me helps him, let him hate me."
"He will do a good job at it, sweetheart, trust me," McCoy snorted as they were steps from the exit.
The door swished open and before McCoy could warn Bria'lel, the object of their discussion stared impassively at the woman.
"Is she part of your crew, Bones, whom I invited over tomorrow?"
"Well, hello to you, too, Jimmy. How ya doin'?" McCoy moved in front of Bria'lel. "What did you come back here for tonight, anyways? It wasn't to apologize, apparently."
"Bones, leave that alone. I can't talk right now," Jim said.
"No, but you can be rude to my medical assistant, now, can't you?"
"Is she?" Jim glared at him.
Seeing Jim up close, as Uhura had, McCoy's anger dissipated ever so slightly. Jim was unwell, new lines on his face, fatigue emanating from his posture, and something else, he couldn't put his finger on. It twisted something in McCoy's gut. Lew was right. Jim did need him. So he softened his approach.
"She's a distant relative of Admiral Archer's. She's a good friend, too."
"Friend?" Jim repeated disbelievingly.
"Yes, and helping me out the door so I can sleep this off before enjoying a lovely meal with you and yours tomorrow." McCoy's attempt to remain nice failed.
"I came because I forgot my guitar and now I will say one other thing." Jim stared hard at Bria'lel. "Come to my house tomorrow, step one foot on my property, and I'll call the cops on you for trespassing."
"Jim, you're out of line." McCoy stepped up to Jim. No way would he let his medical assistant be bullied by his best friend. "She's not them, Jim. She's a crew member of the Enterprise. Her records check out. And she's my friend."
"Bones," Jim's cerulean eyes wavered. McCoy swallowed at seeing Jim falter. "I can't...Lucy..."
"Yes, Jim, you will."
"How can you expect that of me? You know what happened, Bones."
"I do, but threatening this woman is wrong and you know it." McCoy's calm voice seemed to wash over Jim and do the same job as it used to. Comfort him, give him an opportunity to back down. "When we arrive tomorrow, we are all staying or we all leave. Got that?"
Bria'lel had the patience of a saint as they all three stood there looking at each other for a moment. Correction. Jim mostly looked away or at McCoy. Medical was the perfect place for Bria'lel. She'd suffered loss before so she stood straight, understanding Jim's pain and allowing him to judge her without precedent.
"Fine," Jim ran his hands through his beard. Bones never knew Jim to be one for facial hair, but this new look suited him and and set off his eyes. Jaw set, Jim glanced over at the band's platform. His guitar leaned against the wall. McCoy saw it wasn't fine, but at least it wasn't going to be as dangerous for Bria'lel as it had initially. "Now, if you will excuse me..."
Jim went to get his guitar and McCoy rued being right about him again, at least partially. He'd come back to the bar.
"Let's go, shall we?" Bria'lel tugged at McCoy. "Give him some space, Leonard."
McCoy would give Jim until he stepped into that farmhouse.
Space, of all kinds, was definitely overrated in McCoy's opinion.