A/N: Thanks for reading! :D
U.S.S. Enterprise: A Doctor's Call
Chapter 6 –I Will Respect the Privacy of my Patients, for their Problems are not Disclosed to Me that the World May Know
"I'm a doctor, not a space whale," Leonard mumbled sleepily, rolling over.
"What are you talking about?" Jim's voice asked. "Wake up. Your mom made breakfast." Turning around on his stomach, Leonard pulled the pillow out from under him and covered his head and ears with it. "Bones," the voice sang. "If you don't get up, I'll teach Jo how to hotwire a motorcycle."
"Why the hell are you here?" Leonard murmured, turning and throwing his pillow at Jim's head.
It missed.
"That's so mean," Jim sniffed, picking up the pillow and aiming it with accuracy at Leonard's tired face. "Get up, or else your mom's going to start cussing, and she does it even better than you." And then Jim turned on his heel and left the room, stepping over the ancient air-mattress that he had slept in the night before. Grumbling to himself, Leonard did actually get out of bed, brushing his teeth and pulling on a pair of socks. He then padded out into the hallway. Framed old photographs lined the teal painted walls, and as Leonard walked slowly down the stairs, his family watched him go.
His father's face, in particular, seemed unimpressed.
He followed the smell of pancakes through the wooden archway on the left, a path so familiar it was like he was seeing double. Joanna sitting at the table became him at that age, and Jim with the fork balanced on his upper lip became his straight-lipped father. Blinking away the memories, Leonard went further into the room, kissing Joanna's cheek before settling down in the chair opposite to Jim.
"Leonard Horatio McCoy!" his mother called as she entered the room with a flour-stained apron. Leonard immediately groaned, placing his forehead on the table. Joanna giggled. "It is almost seven o'clock. Why do we all have to wait for you to get your lazy ass downstairs? Joanna was practically starving."
"I wasn't," his daughter whispered helpfully in his ear.
Jim decided to join in. "I told him, Sarah, I tried."
Lifting his head, Leonard caught sight of his mother's scowl. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me my first name? It's Mrs. McCoy, you got that? Did no one raise you to have respect?"
Jim smiled widely, "No."
His mother turned the glare to Leonard, pointing a spatula at him threateningly. "Where did you pick this boy up, Leonard? The side of the road?"
"Something like that," Leonard mumbled, resting his chin in his hand and staring at Jim's much too amused face.
"You ask these same questions every time I come by," Jim sighed happily. "Why don't you just admit that you love me yet?" Joanna was covering her face with her hands, trying to hide her smile but completely failing. Leonard had to grin at the sight, and then his mother shook her head.
"All of you miscreants can cook your own damn breakfast if you don't learn to use some goddamn manners," she threatened before swishing away, fading red hair falling back loosely.
"Dad," Joanna said lowly, drawing his attention. "Dad, tell Grandma I'm sick or something."
"Are you?" Leonard wondered. His gaze flickered to Jim, who was now arranging the utensils into a tower. "Would you quit that? She's going to come back in and see it." Jim didn't even bother to answer.
"Dad," Joanna tugged on his sleeve. "Please. Don't make me go. I hate it: it's boring, it's only old people, and it's just plain stupid."
"You are both coming with me," his mother announced loudly, carrying a plate of steaming pancakes into the room and placing them in the middle of the table. She knocked over Jim's make-shift tower with a clang and then sat down in the last remaining chair.
"But Grannie," Joanna whined, meanwhile Jim pulled one pancake after the other onto his plate.
"It's tradition," his mother sniffed, slapping Jim's hand and then taking a few pancakes of her own. "Len, you tell her."
Believe or don't, you're going anyway.
Leonard shot a pleading look at his daughter, to which she responded in kind. Dammit. Why the hell was his mother putting him in this position anyway? It's not like he especially wanted to go either.
"Jo, honey," Leonard began calmly. "It's only an hour long."
She sighed loudly and leaned back in her chair. With crossed arms, she muttered, "It's not fucking fair."
"Watch your mouth at the table," Leonard's mother warned. Joanna seemed ready to protest that as well, but at meeting Leonard's gaze as he took his share of pancakes, she slumped in her seat.
"How come Uncle Jim doesn't have to go?" she accused, poking Jim's arm roughly as he cut up his pancakes like a weirdo.
"I'd probably find a way to accidentally burn the place to the ground," Jim said cheerfully. "And I've got a super boring meeting with a bunch of stuffy Admirals soon, so you might actually be getting the better deal."
"Rather go there," Joanna muttered, grabbing two pancakes and then staring accusingly at them.
"You two got in real late," Leonard's mother commented after a pause of silence. They'd only landed on Earth last night, and of course Jim had invited himself along with him to Georgia. Truthfully, Leonard hadn't really expected anything different.
The doctor watched as his mother pulled out a small, hand-rolled cigarette from her flowery apron pocket and searched, most likely, for a lighter in the pants she had on underneath.
"Mom," Leonard complained with a quick glance at Joanna. "At least not inside."
"It's not bad for anybody," she shot back but didn't light the damn thing.
"I can find you a dozen articles in less than ten seconds that say otherwise, and -"
She waved a hand and cut him off. "Yeah, yeah. I got sick of hearing that when your father was alive." Leonard's mouth clamped shut, and then he too was glaring at his pancakes. His mother sighed and tucked both the cigarette and lighter away. "So, what have you been up to there in space lately?"
"Nothing much," Leonard said simply, moving a piece of the food around his plate.
"Dammit, Len. Just drop it, would you? Can we have one meal together without fighting?" she pleaded angrily.
Meanwhile, Joanna said just loud enough, "Oh, so she gets to swear."
And Jim pretended to be oblivious, eating his pancakes with obnoxiously happy sounds.
"I didn't do anything," Leonard hissed out, feeling exasperated.
"You won't answer my questions! All you want to do is sass me the moment you get home. First, you fly off in that metal heap with this one," his mother complained, pointing a thumb at Jim's full face. "And then I hardly hear from you for months and months. So excuse me for wanting a nice, family meal without somebody yelling."
Leonard had to bite back the retort that he hadn't been the one yelling, and instead said, "Space is fine, ma." And dark. Very dark and quiet.
"We have loads of fun," Jim added helpfully, grabbing another stack of pancakes.
"Unlike going to church," Joanna added lowly. She took a ferocious bite of breakfast and glared at Leonard as though it was his fault.
"Stop whining, Joanna," his mother warned with a move of her fork.
"I'm not doin' anything," Joanna cried. And then his mother, too, glared at Leonard as though it was his fault. Jim joined in the glaring, only his expression was ruined by a ridiculous smattering of syrup. Four years old...
"I'm finished," Leonard mumbled, pushing his chair back and grabbing his hardly touched plate. "Excuse me."
"Me too!" Joanna joined, snatching up her things and following him into the kitchen. Leonard approached the sink, wishing ironically for the easy disposal of the starship. Instead, he ran the tap and started rinsing off the plate. Joanna placed hers in the sink with a cheeky expression before hoping up onto the counter beside him. "Why do you and Grandma always fight?"
"Because that's what you do with your parents," Leonard told her, grabbing the bottle of dish soap and blowing a bubble out into her face. She shielded her face with her hands and laughed. Chuckling, Leonard turned back to the dishes.
"Do I really have to go?" Joanna asked again and grabbed the dish rag from the cabinet behind her.
Leonard sighed and handed her the first plate to dry. He leaned his elbows onto the edge of the counter and looked out the window above the sink. The sun had risen a bit in the sky, mixing the early morning color with the bright blue of the day. Even though it was only March, he could tell it was going to be unnaturally warm.
Did he risk the fight with his mother? Or would he be like his father, everyone going and that's that?
The doctor picked up Joanna's plate and started washing it. "It would mean a lot to your grandmother if you went," he said simply.
"And that means yes," Joanna answered, placing the dried plate beside her roughly.
"Be careful with that," he warned softly before finishing the other one. "And it doesn't mean that. You're old enough to make your own decisions." Thirteen next week, damn. When did that happen?
When Leonard was out in space, the absent father, he answered for himself.
"How come you go?" Joanna wondered as she took the other plate and Leonard started on the forks and knives.
"Because that's just what you do for family. You do things you don't want to just to make them happy," Leonard told his daughter. As he looked over at her, she tilted her head, legs swinging in the air.
"But Grandpa's dead."
Leonard, listen to me.
"That's true. But your grandma still loves him so much, even though she pretends not to," Leonard said. "And she always went to make him happy, and I went for them both. But I won't make you do anything you don't want to. If it comes to it, Grandma and I will go alone. And that's okay."
Joanna grabbed the forks and then the knives, drying them with the rag. "Do you miss Grandpa?"
Kill me, son. Please. It hurts.
Tuck it away.
And you would keep the lieutenant from a death she chose to accept because you cannot.
No.
"Sometimes," Leonard answered as he cleaned off his hands. "He loved you, you know. I never seen him so happy than when you were born." He never looked at Leonard like that, but he refused to let that bitterness infect Joanna.
Joanna smiled a bit at that. "I wish I could remember," she sighed, jumping down. Joanna added after a moment, "Maybe I'll go."
"Is that what you really want?" Leonard asked. "'Cause I got months worth of insults to fling at Grandma, and I'm sure she's got the same."
Joanna grinned, shaking her head. "No, I'll go. But promise me that we'll sit in the back and laugh at people." Leonard held out his pinky and Joanna curled her own around it.
"Bones," Jim cried, bursting in with a crash, "I may have accidentally told your mom."
"About what?" the doctor wondered in confusion, dropping Joanna's hand.
"Er..." Jim trailed off sheepishly as Leonard's mother stormed in.
"I asked you what you been up to, and you don't tell me you've started dating again! Lord, Leonard!" his mother exclaimed, and where the hell did she get the spatula again? Joanna turned incredulous eyes up at him, and for fuck's sake, Jim was a dead man.
"You're what?" Joanna asked.
Leonard stood in the kitchen, tired and confused and wanting to go back to the dream space whales. Jim laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "Wow, look at that. The meeting's going to start soon."
"San Francisco is three hours behind!" Leonard yelled, waving his arm out and ignoring the stares of his mother and daughter.
"Can never be too early," Jim commented, running back and then thumping up the staircase to Leonard's old room.
"Since when?" the doctor called out.
"... And so Jesus said to them: greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends..."
Leonard swiped away in a quick move, causing Joanna to sigh in frustration. Her hand and his gripped in a battle to the last thumb, and Leonard was embarrassed to admit that he actually needed to try in order not to lose instantly. Sensing weakness, his daughter's finger stretched to attack his. His leaned further away.
"... so we are all, mankind and others of our galaxy, meant to love one another ..."
From the corner of his eye, Leonard noted his mother's disapproving glare at the thumb war, and at Joanna's loud yelp of victory when he finally lost, they both gained a few more stares. The woman at the front cleared her throat at the echoing interruption and continued.
"...as friends, above all else. And thus ..."
The doctor pulled his hand away and instead threw it on the seat behind Joanna's head. Leonard leaned back, shifting in the hear uncomfortably. Not only had it been getting incrementally warmer as the day went on, but the building's temperature control had busted, leaving them all to stew in the humid Georgia spring.
Penelope probably could fix it.
Smiling absently at the thought, Leonard continued to tune out the sermon. Joanna, as she discreetly took out a device from her skirt pocket, seemed to be doing the same. He tugged at his collar once and let his thoughts drift him out of the near-dilapidated church building.
"Joanna McCoy," his mother hissed some time later, pulling Leonard back to the rotting dark oak benches and damp heat of the air.
"...even after he rose from death ..."
"What?" Leonard watched Joanna mouth from his left. From his right, his mother made a very stern face that he recognized from childhood.
"Put that thing away."
And then as if on cue, Leonard's own receiver began to beep with urgency.
"Shit, shit, shit," Leonard muttered, sliding past Joanna out of the bench and rushing out of the room, a crowd of eyes burning on his back. "Jim, what's wrong?" the doctor hissed out as soon as he made into the empty front room.
"Carol went into labor," Jim said with a few stutters in his speech.
"I thought she wasn't due for another week," Leonard replied.
"She's not."
Leonard considered that. "Don't freak out. Do you want me to come there? Are you at the hospital?"
"Yes," Jim answered quietly.
"Okay, just give me about thirty minutes. You're in London, right?"
"I'll send you all the information," Jim told him, trying to sound calm but failing to Leonard's ears.
"Try not to get too worried, and … hold on a second," Leonard assured him. He covered up the receiver and quickly walked back into the larger room over to his family. This time, the preacher continued, but many people had turned around to look at them. "Ma," he whispered from behind the bench. "I've got to go. Jim and Carol's baby is on the way. I'll call you both later, okay?"
Joanna pouted as he kissed the top of her head, and his mother just said quietly back, "Tell them good luck for me." Leonard nodded before rushing back out.
"This is perfectly normal," Leonard finally said into the receiver. He pushed open the old glass doors and made his way into the fresher, but just as humid, air. "Has she checked in yet?"
"We're doing it right now," Jim said.
"Good. I'm going to hang up now," Leonard told him in warning as he walked down the sidewalk.
"Okay, but you'll be here soon?"
"Quick as anything."
The doctor watched with wary eyes as Jim continued to pace the sterile white floor of the hospital.
"Your face'll end up stuck that way," Leonard murmured just to break the silence. Jim continued to scowl as he walked back and forth, not paying him any heed. Spock, on the other hand, shifted in his seat and appeared ready to refute his claim until Uhura placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. Sulu and Chekov had their noses pressed to a large tablet that occasionally made revving sounds and appeared oblivious to everything else around them, and Scotty was snoring unceremoniously with his head on Leonard's shoulder. With a sigh that revealed his disappointment in failing to provoke anyone, Leonard settled back into the uncomfortable chair and let his thoughts drift.
He, along with Spock, Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, and Scotty, had all joined forces to wait for the baby to arrive and to make sure that Jim didn't have a panic attack. And then, eight very long hours in, Jim had fainted. Multiple times. So now, while Carol was presumably screaming her head off in the next room, Jim had been relegated to pacing the floor and pausing and staring and then pacing again.
Leonard had messaged Penelope about Carol, and he assumed Scotty had as well, but both she and Keenser were absent.
A ringing from Leonard's receiver interrupted his thoughts, and he shifted it out of his pocket and to his face. "Joanna?"
"Did it come yet?" his daughter asked. She'd called every hour since he left, asking after Carol and Jim and the baby.
"Nope," Leonard said. He could hear her sigh from the other end.
"How much longer?" she wondered impatiently.
"It'll be here when it gets here," Leonard answered, "but I don't think it'll be long now. Don't you have homework for tomorrow?"
"Maybe," Joanna said coyly. Leonard shook his head with a small smile.
"Your mama's going to have my head if I bring you to school tomorrow without your work done," Leonard warned, shifting the device to his other ear.
"Okay, okay," Joanna complained. "But I can come over once the baby's out, right?"
"It depends on how late it is," Leonard said.
"I'm not a little kid," Joanna argued. "I'm almost thirteen. I think I can stay up."
"We'll see," Leonard countered. "I'm going to go now. Do your damn homework."
"You do your damn homework," Joanna repeated. "Bye, Daddy."
"Bye."
Leonard pressed the end button and tucked the receiver away. A few very boring minutes passed afterwards, the only sounds being Sulu and Chekov's racing game, Scotty's snores, and Jim's shoes squeaking against the tiles. A few nurses passed by, and then an orderly, and Leonard's brain was melting from the monotony.
"Hey, Spock," Leonard began, turning his head in the first officer's direction. It was one of only a few times that the doctor had seen Spock outside of uniform, and the fact that he wore all black was just too perfect. "What's with all the black? Is it your favorite color or somethin'?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "My favorite … color?"
"Yeah, you know, the color you like the best."
"Why would I prefer one color to any other? That is illogical," Spock said in confusion. Uhura sighed from beside him but did nothing to stop them. Maybe she needed entertainment as well?
"Do you like the color black?" the doctor asked simply.
Leonard almost broke out into a smile at Spock's expression. "In the first place, Doctor, black is not considered a color by any scientific definition. In the second, how do you find any semblance of causation between a preferred color, which I do not have, to my choice in clothing?"
"So blue it is then," Leonard stated, ignoring Spock's precious statements. The first officer straightened further in his chair, which Leonard had thought impossible.
"And what evidence do you have that supports this claim?"
"You wear blue," Leonard answered.
If Spock were less composed, Leonard might have called his response a splutter. "Blue is a part of my uniform."
"Do you like your uniform?" Leonard wondered, leaning back in his chair and slouching in a way he knew would annoy Spock.
"I have no opinion on my uniform," Spock said firmly. "It is Starfleet regulation that I wear it, and so I do." Leonard grinned.
"Just do as your told, of course," Leonard agreed. "You don't break the rules, sure. At least, that's what you claim."
"Are you implying something, Doctor?" Spock asked.
And before Leonard could form an appropriately infuriating response, his eyes glanced up and caught the sight of Penelope striding toward their line of chairs. She still wore the black pants, boots, and shirt of the uniform – all she was missing was the red over shirt.
"Wrenchy," Scotty called out, removing himself from Leonard's left side. Jim paused and stared for a moment and then went back to his pacing, with the bonus addition of quiet mumbling.
"How's Carol?" she asked as she came closer. Her eyes drifted over to Leonard, and she gave him a small smile.
"As fine as can be," Scotty said from beside him, stretching out his legs. "Though our poor Jimbo's not doin' quite so well." The engineer nodded over to Jim's worried form. "Fainted a few times, got kicked out," Scotty whispered.
"Well," Penelope said with a shrug. Scotty got up from his seat.
"Here, ya sit. I'm going ta find some food. Anyone want anything?" he asked. Everyone answered in the negative. "Jim?" Scotty said, approaching the captain while Penelope took the seat beside Leonard. "Ya want to eat something?"
"Eat?" Jim wondered. "No, no. I'm fine. Fine." He didn't even pause in his path while he answered.
"If you're sure," Scotty replied skeptically with a funny look back at Penelope. She rolled her eyes, which now that Leonard took a closer look, appeared to have dark circles underneath. Her clothes were rumpled and her hair was pulled back in a messy way. He leaned over and kept his voice low.
"Have you slept since yesterday?" Leonard said.
"Hmm," Penelope considered. "No. My cousin got arrested as a welcome home to me. So I had to go down and deal with that all night, and then, after I managed to post bail and get him out on community service, we had a very nice screaming match. So, yes. That happened. And then," she continued in a rush, her accent thickening, "we go to where he lives because I am making him move out and his father comes home and he is just the worst person, and so me and him get in a screaming match, and then once I manage not to kill him, we leave with Tommy's things, and we go to Texas. But there my friend Marie has lost her daughter, so we go out looking for her, and of course, she had 'run away' to the icecream shop a few streets away - only it took us three hours to find out."
"Wow," Leonard said blinking.
"Yes," Penelope agreed simply, crossing her arms.
The door slid open to the hospital room and Carol's mother leaned in the doorway, staring at Jim. "It's a boy," she announced.
Jim halted mid-step, and Leonard watched while his expression stilled. Everyone waited silently for him to say something.
"A boy?" he asked with a hint of wonder. Carol's mother motioned him inside, and with a final pleading look back at the rest of them, Jim hesitantly entered. Leonard caught the faint sound of crying from within before the door shut again.
"Well damn," Leonard said aloud, and Chekov and Sulu cheered.
"Finally," Sulu let out. "I thought we were going to be here for days."
"It is a boy," Chekov said smugly. "I believe I am owed some credits."
Leonard joined in. "Same."
Uhura sighed loudly in defeat. Spock turned to her. "Nyota?" Spock's voice held a tone of bewilderment. She shrugged noncommittally, a small grin playing at her lips in response. Scotty came back, arms full of packaged snacks. He tossed one at Penelope, which she caught deftly and ripped open. The rest were, apparently, for Scotty himself.
As Penelope munched on the miniature cookies, she held up the bag to him. He took a few out. "Thanks."
"How's Joanna and your mother?" Penelope asked as they waited for Jim to come back with news.
"Good," he answered, eating one of the cookies nervously. "Actually, Jim kind of told them. About us. And then my mom asked to have you over." Penelope paused, staring up at him in disbelief. She swallowed her food before glaring at him fully.
"Are you serious?"
"You don't have to," Leonard said, finishing his cookies. Then he paused. "Wait, what's so bad about it?"
"Doesn't that sort of thing happen later," Penelope replied. "As in, a lot later?"
"I guess," Leonard shrugged. "It just sort of depends."
"Oh. Do you want me to?" Penelope asked.
"Not if you don't want to."
Penelope glared again. "Could you just give me a straight answer, McCoy?"
"Could you stop calling me by my last name?" Leonard returned grumpily.
Jim came through the door. "He's healthy," he said, his eyes bright. "David. That's his name, and he's healthy and fine, and Carol's fine, too. And I have a son." Leonard got up from his seat and patted Jim on the shoulder once.
"Congratulations, kid," Leonard said. Jim pulled him into a quick, but very meaningful embrace.
"Come and see him," Jim requested. "You too, Waters. Carol wants to see you. Does going in pairs work for everyone?" The others called out their approval, except for Scotty who gave a thumbs up and settled back to his food. Penelope got up from her seat slowly, and all three of them walked into the hospital room and sanitized their hands. Carol, looking entirely exhausted, lay back on the bed with a small bundle in her arms, and her mother, June, sat in a chair nearby.
While Penelope went forward and spoke to Carol, Leonard stayed back with Jim. "Did you call your brother?" the doctor wondered quietly. Jim shifted uncomfortably.
"What's the point?" Jim asked a little coldly. Penelope leaned down, peering closer at David.
"I don't know," Leonard allowed, holding up his hand. "I was just asking." Leonard didn't know much about Jim's older brother, Sam, and had only seen him once - at Winona Kirk's funeral back during their Academy days. What he did know was that Jim and his brother did not get along, and Leonard wasn't sure if they ever had.
Still, they were family, weren't they?
"David George Kirk," Jim said with no small amount of pride.
"So you went with Kirk?" Leonard asked. Jim shrugged.
"Carol thought it would be better," Jim admitted as Carol shifted David into Penelope's arms.
"Hello David," Penelope said kindly. "And how's the world treating you so far?" David let out a small cry as though he were responding, to which Penelope only gave a tiny laugh. "Don't worry. There are other ones." She looked up to Jim. "He looks a bit like you."
"More like his mom," Jim stated, coming forward so that Penelope could hand the newborn off.
"Good thing too," Penelope muttered, going to sit at Carol's other side. Jim flashed her a playful grin as he secured David in his hold.
"I remember you calling me attractive," Jim teased. Leonard blinked between them.
"That never happened," Penelope said dryly.
"Lies. Look David," Jim turned to the baby and moved over to Leonard. "It's Bones. He's really good at yelling, so don't ever make him mad." Leonard flashed his friend a raised brow before getting a closer look. David really did look more like Carol, though his hair - and he was mostly bald - might darken to Jim's later, and the eyes were all Jim, too.
"Another Kirk," Leonard sighed, trying to hide a smile. "What will the Earth do?"
"We like to tear it down and then save it a few times, right David? Nothing wrong with that," Jim laughed, and then he motioned for Leonard to hold him. He put a hand under his lower head and cradled him in the crook of his arm.
"Yeah, nothing wrong until you end up with some infection," Leonard complained. David yawned, his tiny mouth stretching, and Leonard smiled despite himself. "He's cute for a newborn. I'm happy for you, Jim, really," Leonard said sincerely.
Jim shot him a crooked smile. "I ... thanks, Bones."