Let me take you to the place
Where membership's a smiling face
Brush shoulders with the stars
Where strangers take you by the hand.

Club Tropicana - Wham!

7 Months Later.

'Honestly, June, you can't say things like that in front of Bernadetta, she can't take a joke-'

'Yeah, no shit'. I frown, yank my book-bag higher, and a huff a sigh. 'It was a joke. A...a few other people laughed, didn't they? I mean, she can't force me to agree with her about this. It's just what I think-'

'She asked you how one would make a Warp Core stronger, and you replied-'

'Do sit ups,' I splutter, hopping down the last of the steps out of the Engineering Building. I glance at Thayraa, who continues to throw me a wry look, her red mouth twisted into a half judgemental smile. 'Oh, come on! I gave a serious answer afterwards! I mean, what a silly question. Why does she treat us like infants? Obviously, Warp technology has only changed in the last few years because alien intervention, malfunctions, and obviously because of Scot - um, Montgomery Scott, the-the Chief Engineer on the U.S.S Enterprise-'

Thay throws me a funny look, one that I had become accustomed to over the past seven months. 'No shit, June. Everyone knows who Montgomery Scott is-'

'Yeah,' I cough. 'Of course. Anyway, I remember hearing from, er, someone, can't remember who - ahem, that that if you mess with the Warp Drive too much, and get up to a Warp Speed that's too high, and too fast for a Federation class ship to get used to, the velocity can make a starship destroy itself-'

'That's probably why she asked the question,' Thay muses, throwing her blood red hair over her shoulder. Far redder than mine, perhaps more so against her green skin. Being an Orion, and all. 'To warn us. She did say that afterwards, but you were already doodling in your notebook. Why you write and don't use your PADD, I'll never know, you weirdo-'

'Helps me retain the information better,' I mutter, throwing my friend a dirty look. 'You're no better - all you seem to do is throw Cadet Phillips heart eyes. Not that it ruins your grades at all,' I grumble, knowing full well that Thay was top of the class. 'I don't know how you do it'.

'I'm a genius,' she states.

'You're a nightmare'.

Thay grins, dark green lips stretched wide, and asks her usual Friday afternoon question. 'Are we going out tonight?'

Another joy of being in the future. The bars were great. I had never returned to the 80's themed one Leonard and I had found, though. I didn't want to tarnish the night with any other experiences. Thay had, though, introduced me to many other places. Her mother, she told me, was Orion, and her father was Human. Because of that, she had grown up in San Fran for nearly all of her life, and therefore knew all of the good places to go. I'll admit, the first few weeks at the Academy had been a lot of dodging peoples' invitations to go anywhere, too frightened that I would slip up, but Thay had, somehow, become something like a best friend to me.

I throw her a sideways glance, and answer her question how I usually did. 'Probably. But later. Come to my Dorm around six - that way we can quickly go over notes. I need to make sure I'm on the right track'.

Thay rolls her eyes, used to my usual dodging of disappearing for a short while after classes on a Friday. 'Let me guess - you're not having a late one, because you have tutoring in the morning?'

'I do!' I reply, crossing the road with her. She casts me a side eye, and I raise my brows. 'I don't know why you're giving me that look'. Technically, I did have a form of tutoring. Thay didn't have to know that it was with a Vulcan from another Universe, who was teaching me the pros of meditation of calming one's mind. Sometimes, I was even able to show him things I could do. Sometimes, sometimes. Ambassador Spock would almost smile.

It always seemed rather sad, though. As if he was remembering something from long ago, every time I quipped an awkward joke or tried to ask him about the Other Me. The Other June.

'Whatever,' Thay replies. 'But tomorrow, I really want to try that new VR game that Ellen has. Promise you'll come over? We can study afterwards?' That, I will not turn down. If bars in the future were amazing, then games were next level.

'You know I can't say no to that,' I mutter, to which Thay grins widely.

We separate on the second floor of the dorm-rooms. Thay carries on up the elevator, but I step off on the second floor and smile politely at my neighbours. This floor was the quieter floor, where special requests for single rooms were granted. Admittedly, you had to have a good reason for wanting a single apartment, such as having a kid, or being ill, but mine had been forced upon me. It was one of the agreements myself and Starfleet had come to, so many months ago. I could attend the Academy, if I agreed to not have a dorm-mate.

Less chance of slipping up.

Sometimes, it made me sad. It got quite lonely, at times. Though, Thay enjoyed the fact that I would often bundle into her bed, with her. Humans, she stated, could be so cold and unwillingly to cuddle an Orion. I, she relayed, was nothing of the sort.

I didn't have the heart to tell her at the time, that this was because I had only known what an Orion was for a short few months. Instead, I had beamed and replied that thee years in, she would be fighting to get rid of me.

I enter my room with a swipe of my fingers and dump my book-bag ungracefully at the entrance. The door slides shut behind me, and I breathe a little sigh of relief. My room was decorated much like my room at Oxford, with small mirrors, little posters of things I had decided I liked in this time, and an array of old books from second-hand shops. There were no pictures, something of which I would always cram my room with. I had no pictures or holos to hang anywhere, as it was.

Above my small double bed, somewhere of which I walk toward, there is my timetable. The old June would detest the idea of a timetable, but the June of this time, the Starfleet June with abilities to move shit with her mind, she relied on knowing what came next.

Mondays were simple, with classes in the morning, study hour in the afternoon, and book club in the evening. A club which Jim, in all his loveliness, had insisted I join. Around fits of laughter through the PADD screen and his insistence that he really, really thought he was a good idea, he wasn't laughing, he promised. Thay and Ellen, on the other hand, had not been so kind. They could not understand why I collected physical books. Apparently, the idea was entirely outdated.

Tuesdays were filled from 9AM until 6PM with classes, and by the time evening came, I would eat and sleep.

Wednesday mornings were free, and in this time, I would meditate and…practice. This, of course, was something I should not be doing without Ambassador Spock's knowledge. The Vulcan, though, had told me with a quiet kind of knowing that if I wished to do such a thing, he was sure everything would be quite fine. So, on those mornings, I would flex my brain in the way that Bates had told me to do. It is quite terrifying to admit how easy it has become. There is, though, no real opportunity to truly flex my abilities.

Thursdays are spent in classes, and revising, and practising practical Bio-Engineering. I even volunteer shadowing trainee Medical Officers twice a month. It's not just Leonard. They are all grumpy assholes. Those evenings, I would usually meditate with Ambassador Spock through holocomm (a fascinating and terrifying piece of technology), whilst he told me what he could of the June of his time, the way her abilities had developed, and always without giving too much away.

Saturday mornings were spent again talking with Ambassador Spock via holo, then meeting with the few friends I had, and then going to the Gym.

Sundays were a day of me. A day of writing memories that I would not forget and studying a world I was still learning. From History, to Geography, to Pop-Culture.

Fridays, like today, are spent in class. The evenings, before meeting with Thay and others (I steered clear from become too close with too many. It was one of the sacrifices), I did this.

I spoke to him.

I throw myself onto my bed, my red skirt hitching up uncomfortably, and my shoes land with dull thuds against the floor. My door is locked - that much I had already checked. Thay had almost walked in on my private conversations once before, and there was no way I was ready to fill my friend in on the long, drawn out reason behind why I was videoing the famous Leonard McCoy, CMO of the U.S.S Enterprise.

I was sure I would tell her, one day. Not yet, though. It was safer for her to not know.

I have hardly found his name on my PADD, amongst the few I had, before the tone I had chosen for incoming calls (a jangling, ascending one) bursts quietly from my PADD. I swipe left quickly, still not used to how quickly things like this worked in this time. His face fills the screen, his hair wild and his eyes tired, but he smiles all the same when he sees me, and I at him.

'Doctor McCoy,' I greet.

'Cadet Adams,' he replies.

It was a habit that we couldn't seem to break. A joking hello I looked forward to every Friday of every week. It was the only time we had clarified would work best for the both of us. It was rare, but happened, that we spoke face to face like this, other than that. 'You're ruffled,' I tell him, turning to shift my pillows behind me and settle back. 'I turn to the screen, propped against my bent knees, and cock a brow. 'Go on. Give me the low down on the morons of the Enterprise'.

He does. Accent rolling and eyes flying sky high, my grumpy Doctor fills me in on the latest Engineering idiots, the away mission that had ended with Jim singeing off one of his eyebrows (Leonard manages a quick grin when I snort loudly at that), and the patient Leonard had nearly poisoned because the 'moron' hadn't told anyone he was allergic to certain hypos.

I bite the side of my mouth and try to listen, remembering how awkward the first few conversations like this had been. There had been the underlying knowledge that we had never stated what we were, that this could not even be labelled a 'long distance relationship', but that neither one of us wanted to stop whatever it was.

'Any mishaps today, sweetheart?'

A common question, believe it or not. The first two months, around about, of being an official Cadet, I had almost let slip things I really shouldn't have a good dozen times. There had been one instant involving every single light bursting on my floor after a particularly avid nightmare that had me spending every evening for a month (over the usual bi-weekly, as in twice a week) in a meditation session with Ambassador Spock over video or in person.

'Nothing terrible,' I reply, yanking the hairband from my hair. Zigzagging curls fall around my face, and I ruffle my hair. Leonard watches closely, and I suppress a smile. 'A joke falling flat with a merry instructor, but that's about it. I'm starting to think I'm not half as funny as you led me to believe, Leonard'. I grin when he responds drily, going about shrugging off my stiff as a board Cadet jacket, leaving me in my black undershirt. 'I don't know how you wore these things - they're awful-'

'And yet,' Leonard replies, leaning back in his chair and allowing me to see that he is in his Office. 'You do pull it off well, sweetheart'. He does that half-smirk, the one that I am sure very few get to see, and I am sure I turn a lovely shade of maroon.

'Stop,' I mumble, fighting a smile.

'-Even better with it off now, I gotta say-'

I hold my hands in front of my face and snort, my cheeks red and my smile wide. 'Stop it! You know I don't know what the hell to say when you say stuff like that!' He laughs, rumbling and deep, and I think of how few times I had actually heard such a thing, even when I had last seen him, face to face. Such a thing felt like years ago, not months. I glare at him, drawing my hands form my face. 'You know, if we were face to face and I wasn't tired from classes, I could sweet talk your ass off'.

'Oh, darlin', I know'.

I have the horrible feeling he is mocking me, so I tell him, 'Ambassador Spock told me yesterday that he's going to visit again'. I had, since meeting with him seven months ago, seen the Vulcan twice in person since then. Every other meeting was via hologram, as over half the time he was away on New Vulcan. A place, I knew, that replaced the utter decimation of Mister Spock's home planet. Both times, Ambassador Spock had taken me somewhere more desolate, and allowed me to practice my abilities with short requests and orders on how to calm my mind and control myself better. 'I feel...stronger, since he was last here'.

Leonard is serious again, his nod short. 'As long as he ain't pushin' you too hard-'

'He isn't,' I promise, calm and used to Leonard's fretting. I'm not sure how Jim puts up with it. 'I think he's taking it so slow because he knows I need to...well, you know how I always compare it to working out? Like that. I need to stretch it and stuff before I can fully control it. I haven't burst anymore lights, anyway!' I grin, and Leonard huffs. 'Any super interesting planets coming your way that you can't tell me about?' Leonard stares, and I cluck my tongue. 'Oh, sounds riveting!'

He goes on to tell me that Jo's Birthday had been and gone, and he assures me he had wished his daughter a Happy Birthday from me, too. Chekov, he said, asked frequently about me (his tone his bemusedly gruff), and Jim seemed more of a Captain every day. 'Think he might actually be turnin' into an adult,' Leonard grouses, to which I reply,

'Never'.

There are things unsaid, as always. Things that I would have once said to him with ease, but I now keep quiet. Seven months does a lot of damage, so the idea of telling him that when I had last visited Maria Atwood, she had not spoken to me once. She had just watched me, eyes sad and cheekbones sallow, and the Security had informed me she was refusing to eat. I don't tell him that often, when I meditated, the distance dripping I felt in my subconscious felt like the Void. That, I had not even told Ambassador Spock.

I don't tell him that I desperately miss not maintaining an act every day, despite how close I might feel to individuals like Thay. I don't tell him that I hate filing a weekly report to Admirals' Lee and Akatchi, and that my vid-chats with Ambassador Spock are almost certainly watched by outside eyes. I don't tell him that I had heard whispers of Khan, once, when I visited the Admiral Lee, as others within her inner circle had watched me.

I don't tell him that I work myself into tears so that my time at the Academy will be three, and not four.

'I miss you,' I tell him, memorising the lines of his face and the jump of his jawline.

'I miss ya, too, sweetheart'.

Ambassador Spock seems to grow more wrinkled the more that I talk to him.

He faces me, back straight and holo standing in the middle of my room. He insists we talk like this, so that he can show me the proper way to sit as we meditate. I quite like it, really. I think if I were just talking to his face, it would make the whole ordeal even more uncomfortable.

He seems to out of place in my rooms, and I am more than thankful that he cannot see my surroundings, as I cannot see his. Either way, we both sit opposite each other, backs straight and hands on our crossed legs, and the Vulcan states, slowly, 'You appear well-rested today, Cadet Adams'.

I nod, praying as always that these sessions would go faster. 'I slept pretty well last night,' I tell him. 'I met up with friends, as usual. I didn't even make a glass fly off of the table this time'.

He does that weird Vulcan smile that isn't really a smile at all. 'Progress.' I do a Human smile. 'You have visited Maria Atwood again, as you stated you would?' I nod, he carries on. 'How does she seem?'

He asks questions like this, sometimes. Questions that make my skin crawl and make my mind work in overdrive. Sometimes, I wondered if Ambassador Spock knew things that he should probably be warning us about. Sometimes, I wondered if he did not want to mess with time any more than he already had. Sometimes, I wondered if he knew that we needed to experience certain things.

I answer truthfully. 'Sick. She's too skinny. She doesn't...speak to me anymore'. I smile ruefully. 'It's almost like old times'.

Ambassador Spock does not smile. He simply inclines his head. 'I see. Now, today, I would like to ask you about the Void.' I jerk, eyes flying to his, and gape for a moment. Ambassador Spock tilts his head in a manner that iis sarcastic, and yet now sarcastic at all. 'Do you not refer to it as such in this timeline, Cadet Adams?'

I flounder, before scrambling to nod. Not so secret after all, huh? 'No. I - Well, honestly, Ambassador, I wasn't aware anyone outside of Leonard and I knew that I sometimes...visited the Void. Do you...do you know much about it?' More than I do, I hope. 'Or is this one of things that I have to learn myself?'

His smile is more obvious this time. Eyes always so sad, though. 'In this case, Cadet Adams, it is. I will, though, tell you this. You, and I refer to the you of my own timeline, become both friend and enemy of the place you will know only as the Void. I have heard from younger self that you have used this place to your advantage before, to communicate with both himself and James Kirk'. I keep my lips sealed about mine and Leonard's nighttime dalliances in the Void. 'I will tell you this, though I am sure you have figured out as much yourself, Cadet Adams. This Void is an extension of the Portal you once closed. It is neither the beginning nor end of your abilities, but a place in which you may visit through them. It is somewhere that you can manipulate, but never fully control. I understand, from the years of knowing you, that you must merely understand it, respect it, and allow itself to do the same to you'.

It is five weeks later I receive a different video call.

I know it is different, because with a blurry glance at my clock, I see that it is 4:37 AM. I scramble to answer when I see Leonard's name flashing upon the screen, my mouth dry and my room a pitch black.

'One second,' I rasp, scrambling over the bed and the PADD to find my bedside light. I hear the audio on the screen flare to life. 'One sec, one sec, one sec-' I find the light, and cringe against it as I drag myself into an upright position, my PADD coming with me. I am sure my hair is a wreck and my face is lined with creases from my pillow, but I blink into awake when I see the ruffled and drawn look of Leonard.

My heart sinks. I blink hard. 'What's happened? Are you okay?'

He struggles for a moment; in a way that I have not seen him do so in months, since before even the bunker. His hair is an utter disarray, and his collar has a dark stain on it. My stomach twists. 'Leonard-?'

'I lost a kid'.

It takes me a moment to realise what he means. That, no, he didn't physically lose someone. A few profanities whisk through my head at an alarming rate as I attempt to remember how to be a normal, functioning human being who knows what to say in moments like this. With him, with Leonard, is was fractionally easier to know what to say, given the history of us leaning on one another. I scramble for a moment, heart hammering and fingers ghosting the screen, before I reply quietly. 'Tell me what happened, Len'.

And, somehow, I know that is what he will want to hear. No empty words of sorry, because no matter how sorry he knows I am, he also knows that I didn't know this person. I didn't use my hands to try and give this child, this living thing, life. I did not fail, and I did not watch them die. Leonard McCoy, no matter how silent he can be, is a man who understands words speak louder than actions, at times like this.

He scrambles for words, eyes downcast and jaw clenched. 'From some planet - whole village was damn starvin'. People in charge weren't doin' shit to help the poorer parts...' He shakes his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and I watch. I think, for the first time, that this is the first time I have ever truly hated the distance between us. His voice hitches. 'Skin and bones. Kid had...no chance'.

I stare, helpless and lost and itching to touch him. 'I don't have to tell you that it wasn't your fault'. Perhaps it would be easier if I could touch him. Perhaps my words wouldn't struggle to come out and hang between us if I could hold his tough hands, or touch his cheek, or cradle his jaw between my palms. 'God,' I breathe, voice hitching as I stare helplessly at him. He looks back, gaze on mine through pixels and space. 'I wish I could just fucking hug you'.

He shakes his head, smile rueful.

'Death...it's an inevitable part of life. I mean, you know that'. Despite how low my voice is, it sounds deafening in my dimly lit room. 'And you...it's so fucking true for you, because you have to deal with it on a regular basis, Len. I mean, I don't know how you do it...except, I guess, I kinda do. You're the strongest person I know - have ever known'. He watches me, and that nagging that I am talking utter shite creeps to the back of my mind, but I push it away. 'It's gonna have a negative effect on you sometimes. I can't...I can't understand what it's like to have someone's life literally in your hands. I know you're sad, and I know it's shit, but it wasn't your fault. All you can do is grieve, I guess'. I stare and shrug, face hot and mouth snapping shut. 'And know that you did all that you could.'

He stares and stares, so long that I think maybe the vid has frozen, until his shoulders sag, his hands fly to his forehead, and he is breathing roughly out of his mouth. 'Sometimes, I'll lose someone, and it's awful. But times like this, when it wasn't sickness or anything damn inevitable...it was just cruelty-' His voice cracks, and my hand flies for the screen, and I feel momentarily stupid.

I let him sit like that for a while, until I try and don my firmest voice and order him to return to his rooms. 'Jim will have given you the morning off,' I murmur, when his calls me again, a mere few minutes later, and I see that he is now standing in his bedroom. 'Please try and sleep, Leonard'.

He does, and for the first time, we prop our PADD's up, and I tell him stories of my time, of politics and celebrities and climate and science. I think of how my mum comforted my dad when his father died. I think of her soft words, her small distractions. Leonard lies on his back now, his PADD on his bedside table, and I watch his eyes flutter, his chest level, until, finally, he is asleep. His brow is, however, scrunched.

I hang up and bite the skin of my hand so hard that I draw blood.

I want to thank everyone who has kept reviewing and stuck with this story! I'm so happy so many of you reviewed the lasyt chapter! Also, I've made a Star Trek tumblr to better connect with people, and it's under mccoyed! Don't be afraid to send me messages on there, be it questions or anything you think I could do differently!

And, of course, thank you to my wonderful Beta, lawsomeantics38, who I hope feels better soon!