U.S.S. Enterprise: A Doctor's Call
Chapter 11 - I Will Remember that I do not Treat a Fever Chart, a Cancerous Growth, but a Sick Person, whose Illness May Affect the Person's Family and Economic Stability. My Responsibility Includes these Related Problems, if I am to Care Adequately for the Sick
The doctor's nose throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
He waited a minute by himself. Well, not exactly by himself, not if he considered the other three bodies only a few feet away. Leonard shivered at the thought before leaving and walking down the hall to Sickbay. Androvich caught sight of him before he could hide in his office to fix his face.
"Dr. McCoy, are you alright? What happened?" Androvich asked, trailing behind Leonard as he attempted to conceal his injury from view.
"I'm fine," was all Leonard said before entering his office and locking the door behind him. After the mission on Deneva, Leonard hadn't given himself the time to tidy up. PADDS were littered on every surface, empty mugs sat on shelves and chairs, a stained uniform shirt lay crumpled on the ground. The doctor ignored it all in favor of walking behind his desk and rifling through the top drawer for a scanner.
His door beeped. Leonard ignored that, too. It beeped again, and then an insistent knocking began. With reluctance, Leonard called out for the door to unlock, though he kept his gaze fixed downwards.
"That's a lot of blood," M'Benga commented from the doorway. Leonard heard him step forward and the door whoosh shut.
"Yeah," Leonard muttered absently. His voice sounded nasally in his ears.
"Is it broken?"
"Yeah."
"You're going to fix it?" Leonard nodded, finally finding what he needed under a collection of empty brandy bottles. They clanged together noticeably as he pulled out what he needed. "It's somewhat difficult to do that on your own." He paused. "And it's also technically breaking about a dozen ship protocols. Let me help."
"'m fine," the doctor insisted, holding the scanner up to his face to determine where the break was precisely.
"For goodness' sake, McCoy," M'Benga complained, walking forward and pulling the scanner into his own hands. "For all you like to grumble about everyone else being an idiot, you sure manage to do a good impression of one." If Leonard weren't so defeated, he might have something to say about that. Instead, he let M'Benga heal his nose and administer a hypo for the pain. "Who did it?"
Leonard shook his head. "No one. Thanks," he said, standing up and brushing past the other doctor. They both knew M'Benga had probably seen Jim walk out of Sickbay minutes earlier. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
"McCoy," M'Benga started, but Leonard just waved his hand.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Leonard's feet carried him out of the Sickbay and into the turbolift. He thought nothing and felt nothing. He didn't even realize he was at Penelope's door until his hand automatically hit the buzzer.
"Come in," she called from inside, but Leonard hesitated. Why was he here? They had been lovers for months, but beyond that? Leonard didn't know. He didn't know, and he hated that, and he needed to just fucking go, so he did. Before he could get back into the turbolift, Leonard heard her voice.
"McCoy?" Penelope asked from behind him. Oh damn it all to hell. He stopped, hearing her footsteps approach him. Penelope's hand urged him to turn around. Her hair was damp, like she had just been in the shower, and she wore black sweats and a regulation black shirt. "Oh my ... Why do you have blood on your face?" She sounded murderous, like she might hunt down the person who had caused it.
But Jim had done that. Jim had.
Jim had.
"I'm fine. M'Benga patched me up," he said, but she shook her head and pulled him back down the hallway and into her quarters. Leonard allowed her to sit him down at the edge of her bed.
"Stay here," Penelope ordered, but Leonard thought that wasn't necessary because the idea of doing anything made him tired. She moved from the bed into the adjacent bathroom that he knew was far smaller than his own. In the next moment she returned with a wet cloth. "You look like a mess," she told him. Very gently, she started to wipe the blood from his chin.
He said nothing. Another hand came up to tilt his head to the side. "Did you hit them back?" Penelope wondered.
"I hit first," Leonard whispered. He couldn't even look at her when he said it.
"Who?"
Leonard pushed her hand away because when he tried to answer his lips trembled with emotion. He lifted his hand to the place between his brows, hunkering down. "Leonard," Penelope said, rubbing his back in slow circles. "It's okay. You can tell me."
"I shoved him first," Leonard admitted. "I was so angry. I didn't mean to." His whole body shook.
"I know you didn't. You're not that kind of person," Penelope told him, scooting closer so that she could grab the hand covering his face. She pulled it down, but he refused to look her way.
"Jim. I," Leonard stumbled in his words, trying to hold it together, "I hurt Jim."
"Is he okay?" Penelope questioned, not moving a centimeter.
"He's ... yeah, I didn't break anything." Her thumb came up to brush his cheek.
"Looks like he gave more than he got," she commented neutrally. Leonard shook his head, clearing his throat but not accomplishing anything at all by it. "Leonard, I want to help you, but you've got to talk to me. You and Kirk don't fight like that. What happened to make you two hit each other?" Her tone was more gentle than he had ever heard it, and it just made him feel worse.
Leonard really thought he was going to start crying when he tried to respond. "I messed up. I messed up bad." He didn't know which mistake he referred to. All of them together?
"We all mess up," Penelope said, her hand sliding down to squeeze his hand. "I mess up all the time, okay? And just because you went first doesn't mean he should have responded by breaking your nose. That wasn't a very nice thing to do to a friend, and it's not how a captain should act. You understand that he messed up, too?"
"His brother died on Deneva," Leonard whispered as an explanation because he didn't understand, and he didn't want to. Penelope waited for him to continue, so he tried. Everything he said just sort of spilled out in quick bursts. "They hadn't talked in a long time. He didn't know. He was married, too, and had a son. Jim, he just didn't know. They're all dead. It's my fault. I didn't save them."
"Leonard, I'm very sorry to hear that, but it is not your fault," Penelope assured, but Leonard shifted away from her.
"You don't understand," Leonard nearly shouted. "He was eight!"
Penelope questioned with a desperate kind of confusion, "Who was eight?", but Leonard hardly heard her.
"I knew he was going to hate me. I mean, I hate me. What was I thinking, playing God, bringing him back from the dead? I set a dangerous precedent, and I was wrong, but I don't care, Penelope," he cried. "It's so horrible, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I'm pathetic."
"First, and listen to me," Penelope said, capturing his hands again and pulling them down from his eyes, "you are not pathetic. You are a very good person who does a very difficult job. Second, I think maybe you are talking about when you used Khan's blood?" Leonard nodded, his jaw clenching. "Why does that even matter right now?"
"Because Jim asked me to - to - and I couldn't because I don't have any, I don't," the doctor insisted frantically, and she tightened her hold on his hands.
"You don't," she agreed in an appeasing tone, "and that's okay."
"No it's not," Leonard choked out.
"Why is it not?" she asked gently.
"Because I'm supposed to fix things. I'm supposed to be able to fix things for Jim. That's what I do, but this ..." Penelope rested her nose against his shoulder and sighed.
"You can't fix everything," Penelope breathed out.
When he stayed quiet after that, she reached up and wiped away something wet on his cheek. Had he been crying? He let her finish cleaning the blood from his face. "Your shirt is ruined," she said softly, tugging at his bloody collar. "Maybe you should shower?" Leonard shrugged, and Penelope sighed again. She stood up and stepped in front of him. With a tug at his hand, she led him into the bathroom and started the water.
"If I leave you alone, do you promise not to drown yourself?" Leonard tried to smile, but he was pretty sure he only managed to grimace. She stretched up and pressed her lips to his cheek. "My water ration isn't unlimited, either, so don't take too long," she said as she swept from the room. On autopilot, Leonard undressed and stepped into the shower. He knew the water was hot, but he ignored it in order to scrub himself clean of any evidence of the earlier altercation.
Once the water turned off, Leonard wrapped himself in a towel Penelope had left and walked back into the room. She got up from her bed and handed him some clothes. "You left these here last week. They're clean."
"Thanks." He dressed without hurry and left the towel hanging in the bathroom when he was done. He approached her slowly and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"Don't," she said before he could utter a word. "Don't apologize. It's unnecessary, and I don't want to hear it. Now come to bed before I accidentally fall asleep before you." She scooted over and lay on her side. With a low sigh, Leonard joined her. She entwined their hands in the space between their bodies. It occurred to him that this would be the first time they would sleep together without sleeping together. He didn't know exactly how to feel about that because the misery of the day didn't let him.
"It's going to work out," Penelope told him quietly, quieting his thoughts. "You and Kirk are best friends, and you care about each other. One fight is not going to ruin everything."
Leonard blinked his eyes closed. "It's different this time. I don't think there's anything left to ruin."
"I disagree," Penelope replied. "He cared enough to punch you. You don't hurt someone unless they matter enough to want to."
He fell asleep considering that statement, and when he woke up early the next morning, he did his best not to wake her. Leonard lingered for a moment, a pleasant buzz rising in his chest when he noticed her stir unhappily after he had gotten out of bed. Her left arm flopped down in the middle of the space he'd been occupying. Once he had left her room, though, that feeling dissipated.
On his way back to his own quarters, Leonard passed by several crewmembers all going on their way as though the universe hadn't been tilted sideways last night. Once he managed to slip inside his rooms, the doctor let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
He had well and truly fucked up this time.
The time read 06:30, but Leonard put his uniform on anyways and got ready for the day. M'Benga had done a good enough job that even Leonard couldn't tell he'd broken his nose when he caught his reflection in the mirror. For the next hour, the doctor stared blankly at the wall, not thinking or doing much of anything. The thought of eating revolted him, so he waited nearly another half an hour before standing up and walking to Sickbay. Like a damn robot.
Most of the day passed without incident. No one came into Sickbay, which Leonard thought had only happened once or twice previously. His shift was nearly over when M'Benga approached him in the labs. Leonard allowed his gaze to flick once up to the Assistant CMO before turning back down to the computer.
"The captain has put Mr. Spock in command for the next few days," M'Benga informed him, taking a seat beside him.
Leonard couldn't help but worry. "I see."
"He was the one that punched you, wasn't he?" Sighing, Leonard gave no answer either way. M'Benga's tone lightly continued. "What happened between the two of you? Was he upset about his brother? Otherwise, I don't understand what could make the captain lay a finger on you." Leonard scoffed.
"I can give you two dozen reasons why any random crew member on the ship would want to knock me out," the doctor claimed. Leonard wasn't exactly known for his bedside manner, and the crew wasn't exactly known for staying out of Sickbay.
M'Benga frowned. "The captain is not a random crew member. He's ... well, he's the captain, and he was on duty."
Leonard glared at the other doctor. "Well, what would you like me to do about it? Report him? I started it, just in case you've got this idea in your head like I suffered some major abuse. And like you said, he's taken a few days leave. There's not much else to be done. Now, either get back to whatever you were doing, or return to your quarters. It's up to you."
"I don't know why I bother, McCoy," M'Benga muttered, moving away and leaving the lab.
Alone again.
The next day it was Spock who decided to confront him about the fight.
"Mr. Spock," Leonard greeted with a touch of surprise. The first officer, currently acting-captain, stiffly marched into his office. Spock never sought him out during Alpha shift unless he needed something. Those dark eyes roamed the now spotless office and then landed on the doctor.
"Doctor," Spock returned. "May I sit?"
Nodding, Leonard gestured to one of the seats across from him. "Are you feeling alright?" Leonard asked in a knee jerk reaction.
"Yes."
"You ate today?" Leonard hadn't seen Spock in the mess hall that morning, but that was only because he'd eaten very early to avoid the Alpha shift crowd.
He also hadn't seen Jim since their fight. Was he eating? Was he okay? What if he had hurt himself by accident and refused to come to Sickbay? What if he had hurt himself on purpose? No, no Jim didn't do that. He wouldn't. But drink himself stupid and choke to death on his own vomit? He nearly did that even when shit hadn't recently hit the fan.
Spock dipped his head. "I have." Oh, right, Spock was there.
Leonard raised one eyebrow. "Okay, so what do you need?"
"I wish to discuss a topic that has the crew most interested. It involves you and the captain." Leonard sighed and put his head down in his hands. "Dr. M'Benga has confirmed certain theories for me. Now I seek your version of events," Spock informed the doctor serenely.
"Can't you just leave well enough alone?" Leonard leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. "Things happened between me and Jim. We threw a few punches, ain't nothing we haven't done before, you know that." He lied. It had never been like that before, not even when they'd first met and Leonard had wanted to make Jim disappear.
Spock looked thoughtful. "This situation does not coincide with Jim's normal pattern of behavior." The thoughtful expression turned piercing. "It does not match yours, either. I seek an understanding so that I may facilitate the appropriate response."
"What the hell does that mean?" Leonard sneered.
"It means that if the captain behaved inappropriately - " Spock began.
"Oh, hell, Spock," Leonard defended, throwing his hands up. "The man's just lost the only family he's got left. I think we'll be fine to cut him some slack."
Spock raised both eyebrows. "I agree that the circumstances surrounding your altercation were unusual, but even so, I would be well within my bounds to request that Mr. Giotto proceed with an internal investigation." Leonard thought that sounded like a threat, and he told Spock that, too. The man just shook his head. "As you would say, it is not a threat, but a promise."
"Fine," Leonard growled, "you want to know what happened? I told Jim his brother died. He was in shock. I provoked him, and I shoved him, so he punched me. Then he left. That's all there is to it. Now why don't you go back to the Bridge and do whatever it is you do up there and leave me the hell alone!" Spock didn't even blink. If Leonard had been looking at any other person, he might've considered the expression on Spock's face as disappointment. Well who the hell was he anyway, interfering and meddling like he was?
Finally, the first officer spoke. "If that is what you prefer, Leonard. Should you change your mind, I will be here."
The doctor didn't stop gaping until long after Spock had left.
During breakfast the next morning, Leonard rejoined the Bridge crew for the first time in days and averted his gaze down at his cereal and did not speak. Either the rest of the table didn't notice or were tactful enough not to say anything about it because the conversation remained animated and directed away from touchy subjects.
Jim's spot had been left empty.
"I heard Tolltarr is all desert," Chekov said to Sulu. Leonard's eyes were drawn up to the pair. They had just arrived in Tolltarran space for a diplomatic ceremony that the doctor knew he would hate. Politics could be so dull, and the dress uniforms were more uncomfortable than the Vulcan sun.
The helmsman scoffed. "Who'd you hear that from? Lieutenant Smith?" From the way Chekov's cheeks reddened, Leonard could only assume that Chekov had moved on once again. Who had it been last week? Kid was turning into Jim, only Jim at least had the sense not to mess with people on his own ship. Well, except Carol, and look how that had turned out? He made a mental note to make scare Chekov at his physical next week. Maybe he'd show him a picture of David or something, maybe a disturbing rash or two?
He sighed. David. David could've been Peter. Jim could've been -
Leonard needed to stop going there, now, before he drove himself up a wall. Without one word, the doctor stood and discarded his tray. On his way back to his quarters, Neil caught him by the arm and asked him a few questions about the duty roster. Before he could get away, she started in on him.
"McCoy, are you alright? I mean really alright?" Neil questioned, her usually calm demeanor giving way to concern.
"Of course I am." He shrugged out of her hold. "I'll probably see you after Tolltarr. Knowing our luck, someone's going to need their bones regenerated," Leonard said, the purposeful grumpiness he'd hoped to convey falling short. Without pausing for a response, Leonard hurried into the turbolift at the end of the hall. In his quarters, the doctor pulled out the dress uniform from his cramped closet and laid it on the bed.
He stepped back and glared at it, willing the clothes to burst into flames.
When they didn't, he resigned himself to putting on each damn piece of it. He cursed his way through the entire thing, and he didn't feel one bit better for it. In the bathroom, he looked himself in the mirror and scowled. Looked like a damn clown, walking around in this damn getup. Maybe it was time to call the whole thing off, claim he'd come down with a rare virus no one had ever heard of.
Fat chance Spock would let him skip unless he was on his deathbed.
As he entered the turbolift a few minutes later, Leonard started at the sight of Jim.
He wore his own version of the dress uniform, designed specifically for captains. Leonard hadn't thought he was coming. Wordlessly, the doctor entered and at closer inspection of the captain, he concluded that Jim hadn't slept for days. Deep dark circles had formed under his eyes, and his whole body sagged as though standing had become a strenuous activity.
He looked like someone who's brother had just died.
Jim called out for the deck where the transporters were and neither one of them tried to speak to the other. Leonard had now chosen to fix his gaze on the wall to his right, and he bet his life that Jim had done the same thing on his left. His whole being throbbed with anguish when he thought of spending the next few years like this. Avoiding each other wouldn't be possible in the long run, but Jim hating him could go on until they were both dead.
Jim should hate him. Leonard, try though he might, had failed at nearly every damn thing he had ever put his mind to.
His fault.
I trusted you.
The turbolift doors opened and before Leonard could even blink, Jim was already halfway to the Transporter Room. Two engineers, bored expressions on their faces, greeted the doctor once he had caught up to the captain. Spock was already waiting for both of them, his uniform matching Leonard's, but Spock could come off as dignified no matter what he wore.
"Captain, Doctor," Spock nodded.
"Let's get this over with," Jim said without emotion. The three officers went to stand on the pad. Nervous ideas started to infest Leonard's mind about particles and transporters and accidents and death and - "Energize."
When Leonard opened his eyes, he saw that they'd been sent down in the middle of a field of wildflowers, and though it had been morning on the ship, the sun slowly sank on the horizon. A group of humanoids stood at a short distance. Most were around their height, and the only distinguishing feature that separated them was the navy blue spots covering every piece of skin not obstructed from sight.
"Spock?" Jim asked, circling around.
"I apologize, Captain. I forgot to inform you that the Tolltarrans prefer outsiders remain ignorant of the layout of their cities. We will be brought to the location of this function, but we will be blinded on our way there," Spock told them as though it were a perfectly normal thing to blind people's guests. Leonard also thought it suspicious that Spock just forgot to tell Jim, as though Spock could forget anything with that damned Vulcan memory of his.
Leonard could hear Jim sigh though he definitely was not going to look his way. "Of course they do, Mr. Spock. Alright then, let's go." Spock approached their escort party, leaving Jim and Leonard somewhat alone. His mind kept flashing him images of the morgue, Jim's fist, Sam and Aurelan and Peter dead, Jim with no heartbeat in his Sickbay.
There were only a few feet between Jim and Leonard, but it may as well have been light years.
"We are ready to proceed," Spock announced.
It took about an hour to get from point A to point B, but Leonard felt the minutes pass like years. The cloth covering his eyes made him nervous, and it didn't help that their escorts purposefully weren't speaking Standard. Since he hadn't seen anything besides those wildflowers, it was impossible to tell what they were riding in, but Leonard had to assume it was a shuttle of some sort.
It was bumpy. Leonard hated it.
Whispers hit his ears from a foot away. "Next time I make you Acting-Captain, don't tell other people you aren't the actual Captain, okay? I was supposed to be off-duty until tomorrow."
"That would be dishonest," Leonard heard Spock reply somewhat petulantly.
"Lying isn't always a bad thing." Rolling his eyes was made somewhat difficult in his current position, but Leonard did it anyways. "Besides, it wouldn't have been a lie. It would've been an omission," Jim argued halfheartedly. Leonard fought the urge to scoff and join in.
"By many definitions, those are one in the same," Spock said.
"Yeah, well, I'm the captain again, Mr. Spock, so what I say goes, and I say they're different," Jim informed the first officer.
Spock replied, "Yes, Captain."
"You think I don't know what you just did?" Jim asked quietly a minute later, exasperation clear from his tone.
"To what are you referring?"
Jim snorted. "Okay. We'll play your game, but for the record, I know what I am." He paused. "And stop looking so smug," he ordered.
"You are unable to see at this moment," Spock said in confusion.
"I don't need to be able to see you to know what you look like."
"Intriguing. Might I suggest that you inform Starfleet of this new ability? It could come quite in handy for future missions."
"Shut up, Spock."
"Yes, Captain."
Leonard never felt so ... unnecessary. He knew Spock and Jim had a different kind of friendship, but dammit, he thought he mattered, too. Now, the doctor just didn't know. He didn't seem to know a whole goddamn lot these days. Stirrings of anger sprang up in his chest, and they were firmly directed towards Jim, but then he remembered the way his face had fallen when Leonard had told him I can't. The righteous heat in his gut was gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Leonard in a bad way.
When they had finally been allowed to remove the covers from their eyes, the three officers stood shadowed under an ancient tower. All around them, Tolltarrans milled together in small groups. Leonard stared out in the distance, noticing a smattering of purple mountains. He tugged at his collar once, twice. A storm was coming.
"Doctor?" Spock's voice drew his gaze back. He barely caught the sight of Jim slipping into the tower without either of them. Spock waited patiently for him to respond, so the doctor cleared his throat.
"It's going to rain," Leonard said lowly, stepping forward and motioning for Spock to lead the way.
"The Tolltarrans did not inform me of such an occurrence."
Leonard shook his head, glancing back toward the horizon. "I can feel it in my bones. Mark my words, there'll be rain."
"My mother often claimed she could predict the weather based on feeling alone," Spock admitted as they entered the building. Frowning at a tall set of spiraling stairs, Leonard resigned himself to the climb. "Of course, she was often wrong; however, whenever she was right, she used it as evidence of her ability."
Internally groaning at the fact they weren't even halfway there yet, Leonard still laughed, albeit breathlessly. "Sounds like your mama was my kind of person."
"Negative, Doctor. Even she was far more logical than you."
"I'm sure she was," Leonard half-smiled. "Though to be fair, you think everyone is."
From the corner of his eye, Leonard caught Spock's frown before it smoothed into a straight line. "Perhaps."
They reached the top of the steps and were greeted by a large, circular room. People in fancy robes mingled, and a band playing unfamiliar instruments let out a tune that struck Leonard as something more appropriate for a funeral than a party. Even if it was full of politicians.
"Where's Jim?" the doctor wondered aloud, scanning the room.
Spock nodded over to his right. "He and the First Minister are discussing changes in trade agreements between the Tolltarrans and the Thistians."
"The who?"
"Perhaps when we approach them," Spock said in a sigh as they made their way over, "you should keep your ignorance of the situation to yourself. We do not want the First Minister to get the mistaken impression that the Federation is disinterested in their affairs."
Leonard chuckled, patting Spock on the back. "Fine by me, Mr. Spock." Once Leonard had been introduced, he did as Spock said and kept his damn mouth shut. The ensuing conversation was about as boring as he'd thought it would be, so he really had to fight the urge not to look at Jim. The First Minister Shar - no Shkatar - no, that was wrong too, it was definitely Shkartra offered them something to eat, and Leonard breathed a sigh of relief when Jim declined. He didn't think he'd be welcome in the captain's space even if he was treating anaphylaxis.
"Doctor, how about you?" Shkarmar asked.
"Huh?" When everyone in their ever growing circle stared at him, Leonard shook his head politely. "I'm fine, thank you."
The First Minister smiled tightly. "Are you enjoying yourself, Doctor? You've hardly said a word all evening."
"Don't worry, Minister," Jim assured, laughing easily and slapping Leonard on the shoulder a little too roughly. "Dr. McCoy here's just our resident grump. We don't let him out often, and now you see why." The Minister joined in, chuckling.
"My husband is the same way," Sharta? said, and Leonard really needed to stop trying with that name. It was never going to happen. "Getting him out of the house is like - what is the Terran saying, pulling teeth?" Jim laughed again, and with his hand still on the doctor's shoulder, he pinched his skin through the damned uniform. Leonard then joined in at the warning, but he hoped it sounded fake just to piss Jim off.
If he tried that again, they were going to have even more problems than they did already.
As though reading his thoughts, Jim dropped his hand back down to his side. "Sounds familiar. I heard from one of our escorts that you just became a grandmother. I offer my congratulations," Jim smiled, taking a sip of what Leonard had made sure was plain water. "How is this husband of yours taking that?"
"Oh, we're both overjoyed, of course," the First Minister began, and Leonard felt safe enough by the change in subject to tune them all out once more. He wished there was something more interesting to do, like watch paint dry for example. After standing so long, his knees started to ache, and he began to curse out every face that passed by. One in particular caught his eye. A Tolltarran woman, around his own age, approaching the group. There was something about her, something about the way she was reaching into her billowed sleeve, something pointed at the First Minister ...
Leonard saw the phaser at the same time Jim had. He turned his head a fraction, noticed the way Jim's muscles were tensing, saw the moment his hand stopped clutching his drink. It all happened so slowly, so quickly.
Jim shifted to stand in front of the First Minister.
Without even thinking twice, Leonard grabbed Jim's upper arm, the place he had bruised badly only days before, and pulled him in the opposite direction. Both the doctor and the captain tumbled down onto the ground from the force of it, but the sound of their crash became overshadowed by the sound of phaser fire.
The First Minister stared Leonard in the eyes when she tumbled down, too.
Scrambling away from Jim and ignoring the ensuing sounds of a fight from above him, Leonard pulled out his med kit, the only thing they'd allowed him to keep, and held a tricorder over the First Minister. It beeped a long, mournful tone. The damage from the phaser would take too long to fix and still revive her.
Fucking useless, as always.
"She's dead," Leonard announced to the crowd. He was just putting the tricorder away when an older man came bursting through the throngs of Tolltarrans and made the sound of someone who had lost something very precious to them. No one moved to stop the man from collapsing to his knees and gathering the First Minister into his hold.
His robes and hers, the intricate patterns matching, mixed together on the ground.
"Do something," he pleaded, teary eyes fixed on Leonard.
Bones, you can fix this.
"I'm sorry, sir," Leonard said with regret. "There's nothing I can do for her now."
For me, Bones, bring them back. Please.
"Please," the man cried, though Leonard wasn't sure he was still speaking to him. "Please."
So what is the fucking point of you?
Someone helped Leonard up from the ground and pulled him away from the scene. It was Spock. "The captain is helping to apprehend the assassin," Spock informed him calmly once they had gotten far enough away. At Leonard's worried glare, the first officer continued. "He will be fine. He has ordered us both to wait here until he returns."
"I'm just supposed to stand around while Jim -" Leonard raged, waving his hand out.
"Yes, Doctor," Spock said, and he said it like an order, so the doctor let his arm drop. "It seems you were right."
Leonard blinked in confusion. "What?"
Spock lifted his hand to the glass covered opening in the tower's stones. His pale fingers pressed against the window, tracing the path of a raindrop.
"Precipitation."
When they finally saw Jim again, the kid was soaked to the bone, and the sleeves of his uniform were ripped to shreds. He aslo sported what Leonard judged to be a phaser burn on his left forearm. Not that he could very well get a closer look at the wound what with how damn stubborn he decided to be. "Just leave it until we get back to the ship," Jim muttered before traipsing off again. Leonard looked to Spock.
"This is your fault," Leonard claimed.
Spock raised one eyebrow. "Negative."
"No, it is. You enable him and his idiotic behavior, in fact you frequently mimic it. I suppose I should be grateful that you chose not to attempt anything life-threatening today?"
The first officer appraised him in thought. "You do not appear to exhibit signs of gratefulness. Are you attempting to be sarcastic, Doctor? I do find that particular human vice elusive to my understanding."
"You're a bad liar." Leonard scowled.
Rocking back on his heels, Spock agreed. "I would hope so. Vulcans are renowned for their honesty."
"You aren't like most Vulcans."
"From you, I believe that may be a compliment."
"Don't hold your breath," Leonard grumbled, crossing his arms.
"Why would I hold my breath?" Spock questioned.
Spock knew damn well what he meant. Leonard raised his finger and took a breath, ready to rant away, but Jim interrupted from the side. "If you gentlemen are finished, I managed to arrange us a ride back to the rendezvous coordinates. And trust me," he added, "it wasn't easy."
"May I assume that we have been cleared of suspicion?" Spock inquired as the three officers left the room and descended the spiral stairs.
Jim grunted when his arm accidentally jammed against the wall. He ignored Leonard's glare. "The woman was stopped by me, so they were more happy than suspicious at us being here. I spoke to the new First Minister, as well. He said the trade agreement still stands, and something else about increasing Federation ties. I'll show you the transcript once we're aboard the Enterprise again."
"It sounds promising," Spock decided as they reached the bottom step.
"Tell that to Admiral Williams," Jim mumbled. "That man wouldn't be pleased even if I'd gotten the Tolltarrans to join the Federation and wear our flag as togas."
"Togas?" Spock wondered just as Leonard stepped out into the rain. It was the kind that immediately soaked through each and every layer of his dress uniform, just another reason to hate the damn thing.
"An old fashion choice from an ancient Earth civilization," Jim said. Leonard couldn't help but notice the way he still clutched his arm in obvious discomfort. They were met by three Tolltarrans who once again covered their eyes and directed them into an unknown vehicle. The ride was less bumpy, but Leonard still hated it. Once the group arrived back to the field, they were given back their communicators.
"Blessings to you and yours," the leader of the three Tolltarrans told them. Leonard watched as Jim reached out his good arm and waited patiently for her to take it. When their hands clasped, Jim repeated her farewell.
"Blessings to you and yours." There was something in his voice that Leonard was unable to place.
Instead of analyzing that, Leonard took the time to let his eyes roam the surroundings, but a misty fog had covered up nearly everything more than a couple yards away. He tried wiping the rainwater off his eyes and face, but it didn't help at all in the weather. In some ways, it was nice. There was solid ground under his feet, and a real atmosphere to breathe. Even the rain reminded him that this place was not a ship but a proper planet.
"Kirk to Enterprise. Three to beam up."
He considered whether or not to hurl after the transporter energized them on the pad. His body decided to let him off easy, but only on that count. Normally, Jim would've given him more warning than that. He'd meet his eye and give him a second or two before making the call. Once again, anger stirred up from inside Leonard as he leaned on the wall and attempted to breathe normally.
"Dr. McCoy, are you okay?" asked the now lone engineer from the transporter console. When he couldn't force himself to answer yes, the man stood up and made his way over to him. "Maybe you should sit down." Leonard nodded, taking the ensign's advice and sliding down the wall. "And maybe also put your head - yeah, like that!" With his head between his knees, Leonard fought the urge to swear.
"Fuck." Oh well. Breathe in, breathe out. Artificial, recycled air. Don't think about that, dammit. It could all stop in an instant, the life support systems. He'd suffocate, alone in space. His body would bloat ... "Fuck."
"You know," the engineer began, seated beside him, "this is the most exciting thing that's happened all week. I'd like to personally thank you for that."
"I'm glad," Leonard gasped as sarcastically as he could.
The man laughed, hitting him on the back in a way that actually helped. "Good. So now that you're glad, could you maybe mention that to Wrenchy? Tell her I heroically saved your life and all that. Embellish a bit, if you want. Anything, really, so long as she stops assigning me to the transporter room." Leonard had absolutely no clue what he was on about. "I mean, it was a joke, you know? Just a joke," he muttered.
"What?" Leonard asked, and this time it didn't sound so pathetic.
"If you don't know, then nevermind. Actually, don't ask her about it either. You do my physicals, and I'd rather keep all my body parts present and accounted for, if you know what I mean." Leonard continued to take deep, slow breaths as he lifted his head. Grinning, the ensign waved. "You still look pale, Doc, so I'm hoping you forget this entire conversation."
"Where's Jim?"
The engineer shrugged. "The captain left right after coming back, and Commander Spock followed him out. He told me to make sure you don't die. I don't really understand what he says half the time, so I'm paraphrasing for both our sakes."
"But Jim had a -" Leonard started, standing up and immediately regretting his decision.
"Easy there, sir," the engineer warned, steadying him by the shoulders. "I wasn't kidding about looking pale."
"I've got to make Jim go to Sickbay. He's got a goddamn phaser burn," the doctor explained.
With an expression of surprise, the ... ensign nodded. "Okay. How about I alert Medical, and you just focus on staying upright?" That sounded okay to Leonard, so he leaned back against the cold wall of the Transporter Room and listened as the ensign contacted Sickbay.
"George to Sickbay," the engineer said into the transporter console.
The response was almost immediate. "This is Johnson."
Smiling, the ensign dropped into his seat and kicked his boots up. "Hello, Shirley," he said in a way that made Leonard want to punch him. Apparently Johnson felt the same way.
"George, cut the shit. Do you actually need something?"
"I think my heart is breaking. I may need surgery," the engineer cried into the comm system.
"Kid, if you don't tell her about the captain right now -" Leonard started from his safe corner. George had the decency to look sheepish.
"Was that Dr. McCoy?" he heard Johnson ask from the console. "George, what did you to him?" Johnson sounded scary, and Leonard was glad he wasn't the engineer right then.
"I didn't do anything," he defended quickly. "Anyways, he's mostly fine, but he wants you to know Captain Kirk has a - a - um, a phaser burn or something, and he needs someone to drag him to Sickbay. He sounded very Southern, so I would try to find the captain soon."
Leonard hadn't sounded like that at all...
"Okay. Did he say ain't, though? It isn't all that serious if he didn't say ain't."
George narrowed his eyes. "Hmmm... I don't remember." His eyes swiveled up to Leonard. "Hey, did you say ain't, Dr. McCoy?"
Leonard ignored him and called out, "Johnson, I swear to God if you don't hurry up, I'll make you look after Iyer next week!"
"Right away, sir!" And then the line went dead.
Glaring at the ensign, Leonard found his stomach had nearly stopped doing somersaults and his throat stopped trying to close in on itself. "You're an idiot."
The other officer grinned from his spot. "I get that a lot. Though my favorite is every quarter when you say it in Sickbay to me. Granted, it's probably because after serving on the same ship for years, you still don't know anyone's name, but it's also just the way you say it, you know?" No one was scared of him anymore. It made Leonard wanted to bang his head against the wall in defeat.
"You talk too much," the doctor grumbled, standing up straight and slowly making his way over to the console.
"That also comes up during the physical. You once tried to prescribe me something for it," the ensign grinned like that was something to be proud of. Then, he added, "You look like you're not dying anymore."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Like really, don't mention any of this. Especially not to you-know-who," the ensign lowered his voice pointedly.
"Who?" Leonard asked, very confused.
"Exactly," the ensign agreed. In the next second, he stood and looked like an actual professional human being. Who'd of thought? "Well, if there's nothing else you need, sir?"
"I guess not. Thanks again ..." the doctor could not, for the life of him, remember what Johnson had called him. "Idiot."
Leonard couldn't decide whether or not to be amused or irritated when that caused a shit-eating grin to break out on the engineer's face.
A/N: I'm going to be moving the author's notes to down at the bottom from now on, if anyone even bothers to read them :P Also, I forgot to mention that the last chapter was based on the TOS epsiode Operation: Annihilate!, so I'm updating that chapter as well as fixing some character blocking from the last scene that was bothering me. I don't usually go back and change anything unless someone points out an inconsistency or there's something I notice that just flat out isn't right.
Other than that, as always, thanks for reading, reviewing, following, etc, and I hope you have a wonderful rest/end of your day!