Seri picked up Jim's PADD. She could hear him breathing heavy in Len's bedroom. He was restless, but at least he was asleep. The Ativan would keep Len asleep for at least an hour. She skimmed the security reports regarding the away mission. She had already read them; what she wanted was the autopsy report.
Like McCoy's wounds, that report would tell her more about what happened than the narrative could. The beginning was standard; height, weight, age, sex. Organ weight and size came next; nothing of note. Conditions related to, but not immediate, cause of death; this was where things got interesting. Much of it was similar to what she was finding on Leonard, though there were some differences. The lacerations were deeper; exposed subcutaneous tissue, muscle, and some organs. There were no first or second degree burns, only third and fourth degree. Shit! They were testing; learning how much the human body could withstand. There was a minor cerebral bleed, cardiac contusion, broken ribs, and a collapsed lung. None of which was listed as immediate cause of death.
She looked further; there were minor cuts to his arms legs and back; there was also one to the right of the trachea of approximately three millimeters. Quickly, almost frantically, she looked for the immediate cause of death. It was on the last page, just above M'Benga's signature; exsanguination. "Oh Len, I'm so sorry." The thought escaped her lips almost without her noticing. He would need to talk to her or one of the other Starfleet counselors; it needed to be verbalized. Only then could he begin to heal, to move forward. Something told her he wouldn't talk to anyone other than Jim and her. Len had always been private, all three of them had that in common, but this needed to be talked through.
"Hi Peaches" His eyes were still half closed; still feeling the effects of the drug. The PADD was on her lap; something not lost on McCoy, even in his drug induced haze. "What do you have there?"
"Jim's PADD."
"So now you really do know everything." He closed his eyes against the memory.
She walked over to the stretcher. She had put the back of the stretcher up when Jim removed the restraints, it put Len' head closer to her. "Open your eyes."
As he opened his eyes he turned his face toward hers. She stood close to him, her beautiful face over him. "Please don't make me talk about it."
"Not now, but later you need to talk to someone." She ran her fingers down the side of his face and kissed him on the forehead.
"You, I'll only talk to you."
"Okay. We'll talk after I fix your physical wounds. If you only want to talk to me, we have to do it before we reach Earth." He looked confused. The drug didn't allow him to think; it was as if his brain was wrapped in cotton. "Our relationship is one of the worst kept secrets in Starfleet." She held up her hand with the ring on it. "Once we get back, another counselor will take your case."
"Oh. Seriana, will you do something for me?"
"What?"
"When we get home will you marry me?"
"What?"
"I know we said we would wait until after our tours on the Enterprise were over, but I don't want to wait anymore."
"Leonard, can you ask me this again when you aren't stoned? I want to be sure you'll remember this conversation." They both smiled. This would definitely be a great story to tell their children.
"Len, I need to start again. I'm going to put the straps across your chest and legs this time. I need you to stay as still as possible." She could feel his fear rising. "I'm trying to let Jim sleep as long as possible. This way he won't have to hold you still. I'll close the door to your bedroom." She put the top of the stretched down.
"He is still here?"
"He wouldn't leave you. Len, I'm going to stay in your head. I'll make sure you know it's me, but we need to do this before an infection sets in. Can you stay with me?"
He looked into her eyes; she was his, she would never leave, he was safe. "Yes I understand. Just do it." He was a doctor. She didn't have to tell him how much it would hurt. Burns were the worst.
"If you feel like you are going to pass out don't fight it." She moved a basin and a bio-waste bag closer to where she would be standing. Some days Leonard McCoy wished he wasn't a doctor, so he wouldn't understand what was going on around him. "I'm giving you two milligrams of Kerioid."
"Is that necessary?"
"If you don't want to go into shock from the pain, yes. If you feel like you are going to get sick, let me know." She gently put the hypo-spray to his neck and pushed. "Don't fight the drug. Just go with it." His eyes started to flutter. She waited a few minutes, nausea and vomiting were common side effect, but they usually only lasted a short time unless the patient tried to fight the drug.
"I'm going to be sick."
She sat him up and held the basin under his chin. "Don't fight it. I'm right here." She kept her other hand on his back. He took the basin from her. Her hand moved from the basin to his upper arm.
"I hate this"
"I know. Don't fight it, it will make it worse. I've got you." It didn't take long for the retching to begin. He hadn't had anything but the bourbon in the last few hours. Why did it burn more coming up than it did going down? She moved away. He didn't know what she was doing, but he was afraid to move his head to look up. "Drink this. It won't hurt as much. It's almost over." He took the cold water she offered. It felt good going down, but he knew it would come back up again. She had raised the back of the stretcher. "Lean back baby. It will be over soon. I promise." He did what he was asked, the nausea began to build again. He knew nothing would stop this. Antiemetics rarely worked when Kerioid was involved. He would just have to ride it out, but damn vomiting sucked. He leaned over the basin as the water came up with mucus this time. It didn't hurt as much this time and the nausea was going away. He used the rest of the water to rise his mouth.
Kerioid didn't make him tired, a definite perk, but it did help with the pain. His body felt almost numb. He handed her the basin. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Damn that sucked."
She emptied the basin and rinsed it out before she scrubbed her hands. "Are you still okay?"
"Yes, let's start. Just promise me something."
"Anything."
"You won't be more than a few feet away for the next few days." He wasn't like this normally; he was the one who held everyone together.
"I promise." She lowered the top of the stretcher until he was lying flat. "I am attaching the restraints now." She could feel him tense as he concentrated on the ceiling tiles.
"You need to breathe. I'm here. Just me; you are safe."
He started to breathe again, measured and deliberate. "Just stay in my head. I need you there. Please Peaches, keep reminding me you are here."
"I can talk to you in your head. I can do it the entire time I work, or I can carry you to another time if you would prefer. It is up to you."
"Just talk to me. Tell me about our family, about our future."
She washed her hands and ran them through the encaser. She laid the instruments and syringes on the instrument table M'Benga had sent. She loved that man more every minute. Never again would she take the wonderfully stocked med-bay for granted. "I'm going to start now. Do you think the peach trees will be in bloom when we get back...?" She continued to "talk" as she removed the bandages that covered the burns and threw them into the bag. The ointment on the bandages had moistened them, but the removal of the dead skin was going to hurt anyway. She started to slowly remove the dead tissue. Her mental link helped her to know if the pain was becoming too much for him. Kerioid only did so much, some pain was still expected.
"Len, I'm going to use the regenerator on the ones I have finished. It will give you time to relax."
"How many more do you have?"
"Only one on your front. I didn't see anything above a second degree on your back."
He gritted his teeth and fisted the sheets. "Just finish."
"Are you sure?"
"No, but do it anyway."
"Okay. Joanna said her new mare, Lucy, was going to foal soon…" It took another twenty minutes for her to finish the last burn. "Len, I want you to breathe slowly in through your nose and out through your mouth." He followed her instructions counting to five for each inhale and exhale. "There you go. You're doing great. The worst is done."
He looked at her, tears running down the side of his face and onto the pillow. "Let me run over these for a few minutes with the regenerator; then we can take a break."
"No, just keep going."
"No, you need a break." She ran the regenerator for almost half an hour. The burns looked a lot better, more like first degree.
"Please just finish the burns." He kept staring at the ceiling tiles as he concentrated on their shapes.
"Okay, but then you have to take a break. I'll try to be gentle. Hopefully you won't feel it."
"I want to feel it."
"Don't do that. You don't deserve this. Flagellation isn't called for. I'm almost done."
The tears were back, but she doubted he noticed. She finished, undid the restraints, removed his cap, cleaned her hands, and laid down next to him. His body still felt almost numb, but his mind didn't. "Seriana,"
"Yes?"
"I'm scared."
"I know baby." She carefully raised the back or the stretcher, and put her arm behind his head. He turned toward her and put his head on her chest. This time he cried his soul out. He hadn't cried like this in years. Leonard McCoy wasn't a crier. But now there was nothing else he could do; he couldn't fix this. She held him to her. She would make sure he made it back. To center herself she let her mind drift. If she was caught in his emotions she couldn't help him. Anymore than she could help her tears dampening his hair.