Someday we'll be together
Say it, say it again
Someday we'll be together
You're far away from me my love, and just as sure my,
My baby as there are stars above,
I wanna say, I wanna say, I wanna say someday we'll be together.

Someday We'll Be Together - Diana Ross & The Supremes

When I wake up, Leonard is gone.

I'm not surprised. He had mentioned he would be absent in the morning. Apparently, being CMO meant a fuck load of work to do before the Enterprise sped off into space once again.

My throat aches with a certain dryness that comes with drinking enough, but not too much, and my mouth has that vile taste in it that follows a night of spirits. I curl into my bed sheets, stretching with a groan, and blink over at the glass digital clock on the white bedside table. Once I see the time, I'm practically falling out of bed, suddenly very aware that Leonard has already been gone for a few hours.

I brush my teeth, stare at the mirror, and watch my face turn a funny shade of pink when I remember the kisses, the words shared, and falling asleep to Leonard explaining why his middle name was Horatio.

I bet I snored.

I always snore after drinking.

I feel a kind of nervous elation as I potter around the apartment, PADD hanging from one hand as I sip at some coffee. In my inbox, I see a confirmation letter of my admittance to Starfleet, as well as an email from Jommin that she would have no time to see me, but sends her well wishes. The reminder of what today was makes my good mood falter, but I force myself to brush it aside.

If I felt the grief alone, right now, I would not be able to face anyone for the real goodbyes.

I change into a red dress. I love dresses. I love that it is warm enough here to even wear them. Perhaps, somehow, I was wearing red on purpose. Perhaps I wanted Leonard to remember that he would see me wearing red again; that this wasn't it.

I can only imagine the Enterprise crew bustling around to ready the ship, and for the first time I realise that I would most likely not be seeing the wonders of space again for another three years. I stare out of the large window, toward the insane skyline of the City, and think how fucking weird it was that I had grown so used and so fond of seeing stars beyond windows. How could I have ever known that would be something I would miss?

There is a rapping at the door, just as I throw my coffee mug into the sink, and pad over to the sliding door with bare feet and a yawn cracking my jaw. I wonder if it is Jim, or Leonard, and have a thrill of blush find my cheeks at the idea of it being the second. An awkward crone I may be at times, but I was determined not to be a weirdo 'the morning after'.

It is neither.

'Mister Scott!' I grin, genuinely pleased to see the older man in all of his red-shirted glory. In return, the fellow Brit smiles at me, before doing a funny little bow from the waist.

'Ahoy, lassie. Was wonderin' how you'd feel about grabbin' a bite to eat in the cafe downstairs?' He straightens up and smiles, and I feel almost guilty for not talking to him more about my plans to pursue a career in Engineering in Starfleet. 'Figured I could use some real food before gettin' back on my Lady Enterprise, an' I could sure as hell do with givin' you the low down on every Engineerin' instructor at the Academy'.

'You know what,' I reply, already stepping back to slip on the boots I had discarded drunkenly by the door the night before. 'That would be really bloody helpful, Scotty'.

Something I have known from my first meeting with Montgomery Scott was that I liked him. I'm not entirely sure if it was the fact that his sense of humour frequently dipped to meet mine; British and dry and dripping with irony. Sometimes, I think it was his genuine kindness, and the passion he held, and the sense that he would never, not once, judge you for anything.

One day, I would hopefully work under him. The idea gave me a thrill.

'-Ach, that woman used to give me the chills. Brilliant Engineer, but completely bloody terrifyin', lass-'

I smile around my dark coffee, swallow, and reply, 'Bernadetta, right?'

Scotty nods, quickly chugging back the last of his tea. 'Aye. She'll likely be teachin' you Perspectives on Biotechnology and Genetic Engineering. Never took the class me, but heard it's damn interestin', lassie'.

I nod, eager to know more. There is so little time to get everything out that I want to ask this man. 'From what I've read, I'll take a minor in something, too. I've heard most Engineer Majors take a minor in Helm and Navigation as a minor, but I think I'm going to take Physics. Only because I don't want to be at an utter loss when I take the Warp Theory class. Speaking of, I read the paper you wrote! I didn't understand any of it, mind, but-'

'Lass,' Scotty hums, almost snorting with laughter. 'I was so tiddly when I wrote that paper, I'm surprised anyone understood it'.

That sends us both into a fit of laughter over our empty drinks, and I think I must be fucking glowing with happiness. Scotty was, almost definitely, someone I put under the 'friend' category. I never even thought something of that magnitude would be possible, months ago. I had real friends again. And not just any friend, a friend some people would kill to be able to have a conversation with.

Scotty looks at his watch then, a battered looking thing with a real watch face. Another thing I liked about the man; he was old fashioned in a way that felt relatable to me. 'Others should be headin' this way soon,' he hums, looking away from his watch and back to me. Under my questioning gaze, he clarifies, 'Captain and a few others wanted to say a quick goodbye before headin' off on the Shuttles. Don't look so damn surprised, lassie. Saved a fair few of our lives with the funny things you can do, didn't ya? Family is family, and the way things are headin', we're gonna be yours one day'.

'Oh, fucking hell,' I reply. 'Don't make me cry, Scotty'.

He snorts.

Perhaps it's years of repressed anxiety, or perhaps it's simple British stiff upper lip, but I feel a thrill of nervousness at the idea of Jim or anyone coming to say a farewell to me. The attention was something I hated, and the idea that I might have to say goodbye to Leonard in front of anyone had my cheeks burning with embarrassment already.

'Ah, there's the Captain'.

Jim is dressed in his Command yellow, his shoulder pressed against Mister Spock's as he walks, and his blue eyes smiling along with his mouth as he greets Scotty and I. Mister Spock, in what I was learning was usual Vulcan manner, merely dips his head my way.

'Mister Scott,' Jim greets, with a flourishing sigh as he stops at our table. 'Cadet Adams'. I don't really know what to say, so I instead opt for a funny little giggle that sounds nearly strangled. Jim looks as if he's repressing a smile of amusement. 'I take it the Enterprise is ready, Scotty?'

'Indeed, Captain. She's ready for ya'.

Jim nods. 'Good'. He must catch me glancing over his shoulder, my eyes spying out the sight of a grumpy Doctor with straight shoulders and permanent glower, because he idly states, 'Mister Sulu and Chekov made their way back to the Enterprise to ready the Helm. They do, though, send their goodbyes and good wishes. Lieutenant Uhura will be joining us soon, as will Doctor McCoy'.

I'm sure no one misses his tone, so I amble clumsily to sip at my empty mug and reply, 'Cool'.

Mister Spock raises a slanted brow.

'If Sulu and Mister Chekov have made their way to the Enterprise, I suppose I better go to the Shuttle Bay and make sure my Engineerin' lot are readying the lass for take off, Captain'. With an exaggerated sigh, the Chief Engineer stands from the small round table with a a stretch of his arms and a look my way. 'Now then, lassie. This is goodbye for a while'.

I opt to stand also, welcoming the hug Scotty aims my way, and nod with a genuinely grateful. 'Thank you so much for everything, Scotty. You've honestly taught me so much already-'

'Ah, lass, it's nothin'. You're gonna be more than fine here, trust me on that-' I wave my hand in a 'pish posh' manner, to which the Engineer clasps my shoulder, gives me a hard look, and says, 'I'll be seein' you aboard the Enterprise in no less than four years, lassie-'

'Three,' Jim cuts in. 'I've got a bet going with myself that she'll do it in three-'

'Please God stop putting so much faith in me!'

'Three, then,' Mister Scott replies, squeezing my shoulder one last time before nodding to Jim and Mister Spock, and finally turning on his heel with a raised hand and a, 'Farewell for now, lassie!'

The moment he is gone, Jim wastes no time in saying, 'You'll do it in three'.

I glower. 'Y'know, it's gonna be super embarrassing for everyone involved if I don't'.

He glances to Mister Spock, who bestows Jim with a hard look. I watch the two of them, momentarily confused, before Mister Spock gives the Vulcan version of a sigh, turns to me stiffly, and says, 'I have it under special knowledge that such a thing, for you, is more than doable, Miss Adams'.

I blink, and then realise. 'Ambassador Spock,' I murmur, to which the Vulcan inclines his head. 'Oh'.

Was it weird that this older version of Mister Spock knew things about me that had happened in another Universe? Yeah. Just a little. 'Well, then. It's going to be even more mortifying if I don't do it in three years'.

Jim hides his laugh with a fist against his mouth and a quiet cough.

My palms itch with nervousness and dread as I think of Leonard, and where he is, and whether or not I would blub as I say goodbye. I shake the thoughts from my mind when Lieutenant Uhura arrives in her Comm red, her hair pulled back prettily and her smile shining. She greets Mister Spock with a kiss to the cheek, and Jim straightens up as if to leave.

I feel selfishly relieved that perhaps they would not be here when Leonard arrived. I feel a shock of panic that he was not coming at all, as stupid as the thought was.

'Hello,' Uhura greets, all dangling earrings and bright eyes. 'I wanted to say a quick goodbye, June, it was so lovely to meet you-'

She is cut off, of course, by him, my Doctor, with his hurried steps, his quiet curses, and his rough, 'Damn supplies took an age to load onto that damn tin can, Jim-'

'The Enterprise,' Jim corrects, with a small ounce of genuine hurt in his voice. I muffle a snort, warmth blooming in my chest at the sight of him, all decked out in blue, his hair tidy, his jaw shaved, his eyes finding me.

'Doctor,' Spock greets, to which Leonard growls.

He stops beside us, and Lieutenant Uhura makes a show of bestowing me with a knowing, wide smile, quickly ushering on another pointed goodbye. I flush under her gaze. 'Good luck with everything, June!' She trills, pulling me into a hug. She smells like flowers. Who the fuck naturally smells like flowers? 'And thank you, again,' she murmurs into my hair. She pulls away, and I think of the bunker, the cracking rocks, and what she must have seen.

I smile, nod, and reply, 'Good luck, er, up there'.

The three men behind us are pulled away from their bickering as Nyota Uhura curls her arm through Mister Spock's, sending his gaze to her. She tugs, and he complies. Jim, with one final hard look to Leonard, practically drags me into a hug, ignoring my muffled yelp, and says, 'Three years, Adams'.

I snort as we separate, replying, 'Aye, aye, Captain'. I keep the tears at bay. I'm quite proud of that.

'I'll hold the Shuttle, Bones,' Jim says, smacking his Doctor on the arm, and I flush under the unsaid implications of the others leaving myself and the CMO. They leave in a whizz of yellow, red and blue, and then it's us. Me and him. Leonard and I.

We stand in the middle of the quiet Bar, free of any Enterprise crew, and Leonard sighs when he turns to me, hazel eyes blank, and says, gruffly, 'I'll tale ya back to your rooms, sweetheart'.

I smile, hold my chest, and reply, 'You Southern gentleman'.

He rolls his eyes, and I grin.

He waits until we reach the elevator to hold my hand.

I wait until the doors close to reach up, smile etching my lips, and kiss his cheek.

Perhaps it would have fit the cinematic expectation of dramatic goodbyes, if I were to get on the train with the crew, all the way to where the shuttles would take them to the Enterprise. The thought of it, the entire cringe-worthy idea of so openly saying goodbye to him, makes my skin crawl. So when the door slides shut, and Leonard pauses, before turning to me, I can only smile.

I try not to cry. I really, really do. This man had seen me cry enough. I was starting to really fucking hate the swell of tears and the tightening of my throat that seemed to come every bloody day.

I realise how much I had missed the vision of him in his blue Medical uniform as he stands before me, jaw working and brow drawn tight, before he is taking one long step toward me and tugging me to his chest none too gently. I allow myself this one second of curling against his chest, throwing aside any pretence that I wanted to pretend to be okay with this away.

I curl my fingers against his shirt, and think how lucky I am to be able to say goodbye to him at all. That singular thing had been yanked away from me before.

I am so caught up in my own struggle to keep the embarrassing tears from turning into sobs at bay, that it takes me a long moment to realise that Leonard's arms are wrapping around me tighter than ever before, and that the long inhale of breath that he takes as he hugs me sounds sharper than usual. I talk into his chest, knowing that the struggle to keep my voice level will be doing some next level unattractive things to my expression.

My voice jumps when I speak, and I squeeze my eyes shut to keep the embarrassment at bay. 'I know - I know you're going to be super busy, but maybe a brief update every few days? Just so I know - so I know you're not, like, being held captive by Romulans, or something?' I swallow, not waiting for him to answer. 'And please God let Jim educate your music taste. It's awful'.

He huffs a low laugh against my hair, and I think that's one of the top five things I'll miss. Small laughs, saved for quiet moments. I feel his fingers press into the small of my back, and his lead dips lower, before he's drawing me back so that we're looking at each other, and I watch him study my face. I look back at him, from the hazel eyes, to the sharp jaw, to the slanted nose. My chest aches.

'As long as you stay out of damn trouble - don't even try and gimme that look. Ambassador Spock doesn't know what the heck he's signed up for'. I sniff and smile, and Leonard's expression softens somewhat. With a tight frown, he says, 'You'll be honest with me, won't ya? When you write me, or we video chat? If you're worried or feelin' like shit, or see somethin' that worries ya, you'll tell me?'

I promise I will, and I think that I mean it.

His hands slip from my waist and settle on my jaw, and I clenched my fingers in his shirt with the effort not to cry even more. The tears, though wetting my cheeks, had been kept enough at bay. I knew that once I let go, I wouldn't be able to speak. I didn't want that to be my last goodbye to him for three years. He looks at me and I look at him, and neither of us make the first move. We kiss, meeting in the middle, his hands cupping my jaw, and I don't think I'll ever tire of the feel of him.

He is both soft and hard, and I want to drag him to me, to never let him go. I was so completely tired of losing people, no matter how long for. After this after he was gone, I would be alone.

Starting anew.

He pulls away first, brow furrowed, and I reach up to smooth the line with nimble fingers. 'I'll be okay,' I promise, because it takes me that long to realise that was the cause of his troubles expression. For so long he's been able to keep an eye on me. Though it once annoyed me, I got it, now. I was a fucking disaster, from my abilities to my carelessness, and his worry of inevitable. 'I promise'.

We don't kiss again. We hug at the doorway, my hands gripping at the back of his shirt and his chin resting atop my head. He looks down at me, and I up at him, and it feels like a goodbye. A horrible, long goodbye tinged with hope that this would work. That three years would not damage this, or change too much. That he would be okay up there, and I down here.

He looks at me, and I look at him.

'I'll miss you,' I blurt out, as the door slides open. Something else fights to be said, but I shrug it away. The words swell in my throat; words that, it only occurs to me now, I would only ever say to him. Everyone else I might have said them to was long gone or, perhaps, never existed in this universe at all. I smile tightly and push the words away. Not yet, I think. One day.

He offers a half smile, brow cocked and shoulders straightening. 'Try not to get yourself into too much damn trouble, Adams'. I wipe my cheeks and glare at him, to which the Doctor bestows me with a straightforward look. His voice, though, is soft. 'I'll miss ya, too, sweetheart'.

My chest swells. I manage a smile. It's funny, I think, how we understood each other. There was an understanding between us; a knowing that we would wait for each other. We had, finally, come to that conclusion. 'I can't promise I'll be able to keep my hands off of Ambassador Spock. I mean, you've seen the way he looks at me-'

The sorrow dissipates slightly, and Leonard rolls his eyes, shoulders sagging. He doesn't smile, but it's easy to tell when he's amused. When he looks back at me, it's with a soft kind of fondness. 'You're damn hilarious, darlin', you know that?'

'I know,' I reply.

He leaves with a kiss to my hairline after checking the hallway was clear, and a promise to message me soon. His hands bury into my red hair for just a moment, and my fingers brush his freshly shaved jaw. I promise the same, feeling the fear and the worry creep up my neck, and then he steps back, and I do too, and we share a final goodbye.

I'm sure my face does a funny spasm as I try desperately to hold back my hiccuping sob.

And then the door slides shut, and just like, I am alone. Entirely alone in a new world, one without the support of those I knew, without the support of people who understood. Without him. It's like deja vu, only worse. For so long, I had been so horribly bitter than I was not able to say goodbye to my family, and, really, I still. Somehow, though, there was something so much worse about the physicality of saying goodbye.

I stand there for a moment, a little lost and a little scared. Then, with fists clenched and throat bobbing with attempts to keep violent sobs at bay, I curl up onto the couch and cry.

Like, really cry.

Somehow, it makes everything feel just a little better.

I curl up behind the sofa, my side against the hardwood floor. As silly as it sounds, the barrier of both the back of the sofa and the large glass window makes me feel safe. As if I am entirely wrapped up in the City beyond the window; as if I am child again, asleep in an unfamiliar room, on a bedroom floor, at a sleepover with friends. It really is far less depressing that it sounds. I curl with my duvet around me and a pillow under my head, and my mouth and nose buried beneath Leonard's shirt. I wonder, for perhaps the millionth time, when I became such a cliché.

The sofa sits in front of the wall-like window and, beyond, there is a sea of lights.

It is all I can see. I feel as if I'm in a bubble of darkness and lights; my room high above it all. I think that they are higher than this, the Enterprise, far away and probably beginning their journey. The world moves beyond the window. Objects whizz around the streets, people go on with their lives, and none of them know who I am. None of them know me, June Adams, 02, the girl from 2018.

Sometimes, I think, it will make me sad. It will make my heart ache to know that there are things people here, in this time, will never know as intimately as I do. Jokes will fall flat, music will exist only in my head and on an ancient, cracking device, and my family will only me memories that exist in my head. People can't know what I can do, and the nagging at the back of my head that is both curse and gift.

But sometimes, as I remake myself and start my life here, I think I might be thankful for that.

Thankful for who I am. That I am built to handle this.

Thankful, perhaps, that I have a promise of a future. Up there, away from here. On the Enterprise. With them.

With him.

Even as I cry, I manage to smile.

lmao HI. I'm not dead! I am so sorry for the huge wait. This chapter took so long to write, simply because I want to get onto the next four ones. I think that's how many will take up the next three years, with the next chapter most likely taking a time jump between 6 months to a year. I want to thank everyone who has kept reviewing and stuck with this story! also, I've made a Star Trek tumblr to better connect with people, and it's under mccoyed!

And, of course, thank you to my wonderful Beta, lawsomeantics38!