Mere seconds later, at least that's what it felt like, Jenny woke up to the sound of Kirk and McCoy's hushed voices in the middle of a whispered, but heated argument.
"There's no way Hope can provide enough blood to save everyone aboard, Jim!" the doctor hissed. "Not within the necessary time frame, anyway. It's much too risky, there's only so much blood a human can give without suffering permanent damage or worse. You can't ask her to give any more, and I certainly won't allow it!"
"I understand your concern, Bones," the captain whispered back placatingly. "But what's the alternative?"
"I have no idea, Jim," McCoy sounded defeated. "I've not even figured out what kind of antibodies her blood contains, let alone why my own blood, or yours, is useless. Maybe ours will develop whatever Hope's contains with time. Time we don't have."
"So, what do you suggest?" Kirk's voice was strained. "We've cured the commanding officers and a few more, what do we do now? Draw lots? Choose randomly, by rank, age, name in alphabetical order, and leave the others to die?"
"Well, as a doctor I'd start with those suffering from the most severe symptoms, of course, but maybe you and Starfleet have other priorities," the doctor snapped, before letting out a resigned sigh, and Jenny's heart broke at how deflated he sounded.
"I don't know, Jim."
"Well, you should, Bones!" the captain hissed, desperation making him bitter. "You're the doctor, find a solution!"
"Jim, I…"
"And if you ask me, the solution is lying right over there."
Jenny couldn't stay out of it any longer. They were talking about her, after all.
"Captain," she spoke up, "of course I'll help in any way I can."
Both heads whipped around, and McCoy was at her side in an instant, putting a protective hand on her arm.
"I'm glad to hear that," Kirk smiled, coming over to stand at her other side.
"Jim!" McCoy growled, his tone warning.
The captain nodded at his agitated friend, then returned his gaze to Hope.
"But let Dr. McCoy explain the risks before you make a decision," he finished.
"Okay, Doctor, I'm listening," Jenny said, following Kirk's lead and deliberately using Leonard's title to make it clear that she was talking to him as a Starfleet officer and not as his partner.
"This is serious, Lieutenant," McCoy fumed, eyes blazing as distress turned into anger.
Jenny was immediately sorry. Leonard was understandably worried and exhausted, he felt responsible and helpless, and the thought of having to put her at danger in order to save a few hundred other lives certainly freaked him out.
"If you give too much blood too fast," the doctor continued, his voice losing its sharp edge when he saw the sincere apology in her eyes, "you'll go into shock, and then, heart attack, stroke, organ failure, brain damage, take your pick."
"I see," she murmured, lifting his hand from where it was still resting on her arm and lacing their fingers together. "But we won't let it come to that, Leonard. You can monitor me and stop anytime."
"All right," McCoy sighed, capitulating after a few moments' hesitation, and squeezing her fingers, "but only a little more today, and we'll take it slowly, okay? We'll set the pace according to the drip."
"Deal," Jenny smiled, hearing Kirk exhale deeply in relief before quietly leaving the room.
McCoy made her drink a big glass of orange juice, then fastened a new bag to the drip, and sat down next to her on the bed.
"Didn't you use some kind of stimulant for increased blood production on Spock when your operated on Sarek?" Jenny asked. "Couldn't we try that on me, too?"
"Not possible, I'm afraid," McCoy shook his head. "That only works for copper-based blood."
Jenny puffed out a frustrated sigh.
"I know you want to help so badly, love," the doctor smiled, tenderly brushing her hair from her face, "but the best way to do that, is to relax and try to waste as little energy as possible. The less you move, the more blood your body can spare."
"Got it," she smiled back, closing her eyes and trying to relax as much as she could.
"And while you rest, I promise I'll find a way to improve the serum to get even more dosages out of your precious blood," McCoy whispered close to her ear, brushing a gentle kiss on her temple and then straightening back up to hold and caress her hand.
"Aren't you needed elsewhere?" Jenny asked, starting to feel lightheaded and drowsy.
"Believe me, love," he chuckled, continuing to draw little circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "I can do with a little break, too."
It was true, of course, the doctor was desperately in need of a rest. Only, she knew that, if not for her, he'd never take time for even the shortest break in a situation like this.
-x-x-x-x-x-
The next time Jenny woke up, she felt a gentle hand on her cheek. Opening her eyes, she leaned into the familiar touch and smiled at McCoy's worried and tired face.
"How're you doing, Sleeping Beauty?" he murmured, his affection rippling through her body like a soft breeze.
She'd never get over how his endearments made her feel, no matter how patronising or unoriginal. Only southern charm could pull that off.
"How did it go?" she asked, trying to shake off the sleepiness.
"Worked like a charm," he smiled, glancing at the monitor above her head to check the readings.
"Everybody cured?" she enquired hopefully, but could see the answer in his eyes even before he opened his mouth again.
"Not quite yet, love," he said, and Jenny sensed that he'd rather not told her, but didn't want to lie to her either.
"Why did you stop?" she wanted to know, even though the reason was pretty clear.
"I had to," McCoy simply said, tenderly cradling her face in his hand, as his eyes told her everything from the love he held for her to the grief he felt for the patients who hadn't made it, or wouldn't make it.
"But we'll ask you for a little more of your blood tomorrow, love," he continued, gently running his fingers through her hair.
"Why wait?" she asked, not caring that she sounded like a petulant child. "I don't feel weak or anything."
"Believe me, you would, if you were to get up and move around," he said softly. "Promise me that you'll move as little as possible. Your body can't take any strain right now."
When she just frowned at him, he chuckled, "I know you're used to doing things fast, my little whirlwind, but even your body needs time to produce blood, you can't just will it to work faster."
His words were breezy and kind, but he couldn't quite hide the fact that he, too, felt desperate and impatient, especially when he kept glancing at her readings, as if hoping to find better ones the next time he looked.
"Oh Leonard, how bad is it out there?" Jenny wanted to know, nodding towards the rest of sickbay.
"Bad enough," he replied, "but we're still making progress. Thanks to you."
There were tears in his eyes now, as he leaned down and brushed a kiss on her lips.
"How many?" she asked, knowing she didn't even have to add the word 'dead'.
"Four now," McCoy answered, his voice sounding choked.
"Who?" she whispered, realising that it made no difference, but needing to know, anyway.
McCoy gave her the names, and they both fell silent, each of them lost in their own memories of the departed.
Jenny knew perfectly well how devastated the doctor was by not having been able to save them, by being so helpless. But she wasn't, she could help.
"Let's not waste any more time, Leonard," she said determinedly. "Draw some more blood now."
"No way, love!" McCoy shook his head vehemently. "We can't risk that."
"I can," she insisted. "How do you think I feel, lying idly around while someone else might die?"
The doctor just looked at her, a tear running down his cheek, as he silently shook his head again.
"Please, Leonard?"
Another shake of the head.
"Do you even have enough room in sickbay?" Jenny persisted, regarding the dark rings around his eyes. "You must be run off your feet by now."
"Don't worry about me, love," he started to get up. "It's my job. I've been through worse."
Holding on to his hand, Jenny pleaded with him.
"Leonard, I need to do this. Please let me."
McCoy refused to meet her eyes, still trying to pull his hand away.
"You wouldn't hesitate to do it yourself, if you had the chance," she murmured.
"But I'm a doctor," he protested. "I took an oath."
"And I'm your partner," Jenny said emphatically, feeling that was reason enough. "How much more do we need?"
"No one's going to die while you're regaining your strength, Jenny," McCoy tried to avoid answering her question.
"You can't promise that, Leonard," she said softly, "and you know that I know."
That, at least, brought a little smile to McCoy's face.
"So, how much more?"
"250 ml," he finally told her.
"But that's really not that much, is it?"
"It wouldn't be, if you hadn't already donated so much. Jenny," the doctor lifted his hands imploringly, "your body has reached its limits. You need to accept that. We all do."
"You've just said it. It's my body. My decision."
Jenny just couldn't give up. Not now that they were so close. They couldn't fail because of a mere 250 ml.
"But your health is my responsibility, and I can't let you risk your life like that. I love you, Jenny" the doctor said quietly, his sad eyes affecting her far more than his anger ever could. "Doesn't that count for anything?"
"That's not fair," she whispered, feeling immensely tired and close to tears. "You know that it does."
McCoy looked at her for a long moment, then sat back down and took a deep breath.
"All right, love," he sighed, "let's do this. But I'm not leaving your side. And when I say enough, we're done. No argument."
"I promise!" she smiled, settling back comfortably and watching him cross the room to shut the door.
Then he gestured for her to move a little to the side, sat down alongside her on the bed with his back resting against the wall, wrapped one arm around her, and pulled her head against his chest.
"You just rest, and I'll be watching over you, love," he murmured, tenderly kissing the top of her head.
Jenny drifted in and out of sleep, relishing the doctor's warm embrace and the gentle caress of his hand, as he softly talked to her about anything that came to mind.
A sudden commotion outside, thumping noises and shouting, startled her wide awake again, and McCoy bolted out of the room to deal with whatever had just happened in sickbay.
Heaving a sigh, Jenny closed her eyes again, feeling increasingly nauseous and drained in every sense of the word. The monitor above her emitted a low beep, signalling that one of the parameters McCoy had set for her had dropped below the limit.
Checking the readings on the second little monitor by her side, she saw that the amount of blood still needed, was down to 5 ml. A ridiculously small quantity. Surely she could hold out that much longer.
Taking advantage of the fact that McCoy was still distracted outside, Jenny sat up and reset the parameters. Good thing she'd worked in sickbay for a year and had also learned a few tricks from Scotty. She wasn't really feeling sick or anything. Four more millilitres wouldn't kill her. And Leonard would finally have enough serum for everyone.
Lying back down, she kept her eyes on the monitor.
Three more millilitres.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she found herself at the beach with Leonard, splashing around in the shallow water, their cool, wet bodies sliding against each other.
Two.
She was in the middle of a beautiful meadow, running around, hand in hand with Leonard, chasing a butterfly.
One.
Leonard's face was close to hers, as they danced to a Faith Hill and Tim McGraw duet. Their arms tightly wrapped around each other, she tilted her face up towards his, moulding herself against him, as his soft lips finally found hers.
-x-x-x-x-x-
When the flatline alarm sounded throughout sickbay, McCoy was gripped by terror like he'd never been before and stormed back into Hope's room, almost crazy with fear. For a long, horrible moment, staring at Hope's small form lying there on the biobed, completely still and white like a sheet, lips curled in a peaceful smile, the only thought his panicking brain could come up with was 'Sleeping Beauty'.
Then his medical mind finally kicked in.
