Spock was brought an incident report.
Scotty was watching him carefully. Almost imperceptibly at first, the color started to drain from Spock's face. It took only a moment for Scotty to understand the implications.
"The wee Doctor?"
Spock's head bobbed a fraction. "The assassin has made another attempt."
The tension plummeted after 'attempt' and Scotty found himself able to breathe once more. "And Leonard?"
Spock's lips remained pressed in a thin white line. "Unharmed, according to this. It might be prudent to-"
"Now hold on, Mister Spock." Loath to give this particular speech, Scotty laid a hand on Spock's arm and mentally prepared himself. "I'm sure the Captain has a firm handle on the situation. What the good Doctor needs us to do now is finish this algorithm."
Pausing, Spock fixed his gaze on the report. He seemed to be weighing the decision in his mind. It was logical to stay, but Scotty suspected there were several "logical" arguments for leaving as well. There was a good deal of turmoil going on in Spock's mind. Scotty only wished he could help his friend make the right decision.
"There's an old saying." Scotty spoke up again. "Worrying means you suffer twice."
Like magic, there was a twinkle in Spock's eye as he turned to face the engineer. "Mister Scott," he began in an even tone, "are you implying that I am experiencing worry?"
Scotty held in his chuckles admirably. "By no means, Mister Spock. I was expressing, in my emotional human way, my desire to continue working on a solution."
"Then by all means, let us continue."
/*\\
"He's not talking."
Ensign Navejar activated the Brig's sound dampening field around Bradshaw's cell door. It was plain enough the man was guilty, they'd caught him in the act, but so far he wasn't forthcoming about his motives. There was also a fat black eye Chief Freeman was more than willing to overlook.
"I see." The Chief hadn't figured Bradshaw for the man, not one of McCoy's people, surely. They all loved their kindly but irritable department head. It didn't make much sense at all.
"But what I don't get," Navejar began, "was how he got access to the memory core in the first place? And on top of that, how he managed to sneak into Mister Scott's room of all places!" The Ensign paced a little ways away. "That's senior officer's quarters! How'd he do that?"
Chief Freeman frowned at the man in the cell. Nurse Bradshaw came qualified enough, with recommendations on par with what you'd see for someone trying to get assigned to the Enterprise. The frustrating part was that there was nothing really… special about this new hire. Bradshaw didn't have a criminal record. There were no red flags in his psych-eval. He didn't have connections Starfleet had considered threats.
This was maddening. Freeman didn't like closing a case until all the loose ends were tied. Here was the guilty party, but with no motive. That could mean anything from contract work to a wild vengeance plot. Neither of those made Doctor McCoy much safer.
"I'm going to post an extra guard down here. Let me call upstairs and get someone." Freeman walked over to the comm unit and summoned another few pairs of eyes. Maybe they could discern something that he couldn't.
/*\\
Jim Kirk sat on a biobed and weighed his decisions up until this point. It was an undoubtedly bad move to leave Leonard alone in any way shape or form, regardless of the fact that the door was locked. Secure wasn't secure enough, and it had nearly cost Bones his life. Jim would have to live with that.
But the rest of it, weren't they doing all they could? Spock and Scotty were pouring over their solution as he sat here moping. They were getting closer every minute to the algorithm that would give Bones back to them. Jim looked down at the bundle in his arms and wondered why it wasn't enough.
Messy hair stuck out of the top of the blanket. Bones had both of his arms folded tight against his chest, safe and warm inside the great big blanket Chapel had brought him. It was well into the ship's night and he was fast asleep.
Maybe it hurt most because he knew Bones wasn't a heavy sleeper. Or the fact that his friend's quiet dependability in times like these was unavailable to him. There was no comfort, no solace in Bones' words. He was a child, one who needed constant supervision and protection.
Leonard wouldn't leave Jim's side- let alone his sight. Chapel had done the examination while the young man kept a white-knuckled grip on Jim's uniform top. Leonard was tired, stressed out, and too distraught to argue with. In the end, he fell asleep in the middle of a protest, a refusal to be anywhere else. Jim didn't have the heart to let him down.
They sat together on the biobed, Leonard dozing, Jim contemplating his failures of late. M'Benga and Chapel were holding a quiet conference in McCoy's office. They were likely discussing plans of action regarding Sickbay security.
It was interesting, sitting there, being fully responsible for a human life. Jim had never really understood how much hung in the balance. Any number of times, Bones could've had an accident completely unrelated to the assassination attempts. Children were so fragile. It almost pained him to sit here. Shouldn't he put this precious burden in someone else's hands?
As if she'd been able to read his mind, Nurse Chapel chose that moment to appear in the doorway. She looked as tired as you'd expect this late in the evening. Perhaps more so. Goodness knows how this weighed on her.
"I think he knows you, deep down." She began, softly. "That's why he's restless with anyone else. I think you're his closest friend in the world, and he knows it."
Jim bowed his head and tucked up a corner of the blanket around Leonard's shoulders. This was almost a peaceful slumber for him. There was the occasional noise- small almost inaudible- but it let Jim know this wasn't a dreamless sleep.
"I wish he had a more responsible best friend." He admitted. "Someone who knew what to do. Someone who didn't make stupid mistakes that nearly got him killed."
Chapel pursed her lips and leaned on the doorframe. "If it was any other child, you'd be fine. Unfortunately, this child is as much of a trouble magnet as he ever was. I doubt there's a situation out there Leonard McCoy couldn't make more hazardous to his person. Why, he's almost as bad as Spock."
Jim's lip quirked upward slightly. "How are you holding up?" He studied her expression, temporarily disregarding the fact that his change of subject wasn't so smooth. Did it pain her more to know that the would-be assassin was right here working under her nose?
"It's hard." The frankness in her voice was plain. "Hard knowing someone you've worked with for three months was all the time plotting to kill your boss. And you know Leonard's more than a boss to me- to any of us." She kept her volume in check. It was hard.
Chapel strode over and took as seat on the biobed. "He could've been dead months ago if they hadn't picked a different method. Just thinking of all the times Bradshaw could've snuck in the office while he was working late… killed him without so much as raising the alarms..."
She put a hand to her face. "You want to think you were some kind of idiot for not noticing. Like that would make anybody feel better. But, that's the whole point. Nobody's supposed to notice. Bradshaw was too good at keeping up appearances. If we hadn't caught him in the act why…" she sniffed, "… he might've gotten away scot free."
Jim took his free arm and draped it across her shoulders. "Then I guess we're just a couple of suckers. I signed his transfer. Bradshaw really did seem like a nice young man." His shoulders drooped. "I guess you can never tell."
"Sure you can."
They both looked up to find M'Benga in the doorway, hands on his hips. He didn't waste a second in coming over and taking up residence in the adjacent biobed. He kicked his legs off the side and faced them both.
"He was always sloppy with his reports. I don't know if that's a moral flaw to predict murder with, but it tells me one thing: the kid wasn't afraid to cut corners."
Kirk frowned. "He might've been willing to do this for money."
"Maybe." M'Benga found his attention drifting to the little ball of blankets. "Maybe he was trying to shorten the ladder to the top. You can't always tell if someone's homicidal, but you can tell when they're just a tad too dishonest for your tastes."
Jim smirked. "Maybe we should ask Freeman who he thinks is a little too dishonest." M'Benga and Chapel were both right. There wasn't a way to predict what had happened here, but there were always signs of bad character. There were always red flags. Maybe just little ones, things to watch out for. But none of them had deemed the details important enough to try to correct. It was a collective moral short falling if anything.
It was getting too melancholy. Jim patted Chapel's shoulder and tried to brighten the mood. "Don't tell me you both came in here for a pep talk. I'm babysitting. Can't be bothered."
Chapel shoved his arm away, rolling her eyes. "If he'd latched onto me, I wouldn't be complaining! Did you see those pictures Ericks sent around? Grape juice in a wine glass!"
They kept their snickers quiet. No, Doctor McCoy would never live this one down. Leonard stirred, and Chapel and M'Benga took their leave. They didn't want to cause a panic if Leonard woke up.
As it turned out, he didn't even open his eyes. It was plain that Leonard was awake, but he kept his head buried in the blankets, his fist clenching tighter into the fabric of Jim's shirt.
"Hey there, Len." Jim tried softly. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I had to run and run all day. I'm tired."
Jim couldn't laugh at that, but he did try to keep his tone light. "Well, it's about 4 in the morning. You should be tired so late."
Leonard stayed still. This was as lethargic as Jim had ever seen him, in this state.
"I don't want to be scared." He spoke up finally. Leonard grabbed the front of his shirt, fixed Jim with the most heartbroken little expression, and took a breath. "Help me Jim."
Breath catching in his throat, Jim looked down into Leonard's eyes. There was such pain in that expression he had to repress a shudder. Maybe Spock was right. Maybe they were running out of time.
"How about I tuck you in? I won't go anywhere-" he hastily amended, "-but it's awfully hard to sleep sitting up isn't it?"
Leonard pondered this a moment, nodded, and let go of the golden fabric. "There we go." Jim sighed. He set Leonard back against the Sickbay pillow and tucked the blanket around his shoulders. Jim settled himself back at the side of the bed. A little hand snaked out of the covers and sought his.
What could he do? Jim took the tiny hand and hoped wherever Spock and Scotty had holed themselves up, they were maybe a little closer to the answer.
