I love you, too! More than you'll ever know! McCoy thought fondly, following Hope with his eyes until she'd almost stepped out the door, then decided that she couldn't be left alone after what she'd just been through.
"Jenny, wait!" he called out, just in time before the doors closed behind her. "Don't go! You really shouldn't be alone now."
Hope turned around and smiled, then came back to where he'd jumped up from his chair and was standing with his arms wide open for her to step in. She pressed a gentle kiss on his lips and let him hold her for a moment, hugging him tightly while he nearly crushed her, and it almost felt to McCoy as if she were trying to calm and comfort him rather than the other way round.
"We can talk later, Doctor, if you're not comfortable to do so now," Spock said, getting up and moving towards the door, but Hope quickly spun around to stop the Vulcan.
"No, Mr. Spock, please stay!" she exclaimed, her hands gently pushing against McCoy's chest, clearly expecting him to let her go.
But he couldn't. She needed to be taken care of, and he needed to be there for her, hold her and talk to her. Now. She'd looked so rattled coming out of the mind-meld, and understandably so. Even if Spock had been as careful, gentle and respectful as he'd promised, the doctor had to make sure that Hope hadn't suffered any emotional harm from having her mind probed. From having someone intrude into her most private thoughts and feelings, into her most private self. He needed to know that she didn't feel violated in the least.
"Leonard," she said softly, writhing in McCoy's arms to extract herself from his embrace, "I know you want to help and protect me, but please believe me when I tell you I'm fine! And I couldn't talk to you about what's just happened yet, anyway. I need a little time to sort this out by myself first."
She gently took hold of his hands behind her back to bring them forward, then held them against her chest over her heart, tenderly covering them with her own.
"The one thing you can do for me right now is listen to whatever Spock wants to tell you and discuss with you. So that he can finally, finally tell me what I really want to know. What I need to know. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course, love," the doctor murmured, still reluctant to let her go but pulling his hands out from under hers anyway.
"I promise I'll be all right. You'll find me in your quarters, busy making sense of everything I've just experienced, and eagerly waiting for the two of you to shed some light."
With one more, swift hug and kiss, Hope turned around and hurried out the door. And this time, McCoy didn't stop her. Going against what every cell in his body was screaming to do, he let her go. Because she was right. To actually help her, he really needed to know what was going on. He needed Spock to tell him everything.
If only he could have agreed to a mind-meld. Quick and thorough, and Hope could have stayed here. Close to him. But he'd panicked. No matter how much he knew he could trust Spock, his subconscious just wasn't cooperating. And neither was his body. The mere thought of someone – anyone – entering his mind had almost made him hyperventilate. He simply couldn't do it. Not even for Hope.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Barely looking at anyone who passed her by in the corridors, Jenny practically flew to McCoy's quarters, only relaxing after the doors had closed behind her. For a moment or two, she just stood there, her mind totally blank, yet overflowing with thoughts and impressions at the same time. She was standing completely still, afraid that any random move or thought might supplant something important she'd learned during the mind-meld. The feeling that every single thing, every little detail was immensely important and couldn't be lost was almost overwhelming.
And then there was this one thing she just couldn't get her head around. She was a mother. Or was she? After all, those boys, who'd meant the world to her in her dreams, hadn't even registered in her conscious mind until recently. She had no idea how it was even possible, but if they really were her sons, what kind of mother was she anyway? What mother would simply forget her children? And why? What had become of them? Were they still alive or had she left them in the 20th century? And how was she even old enough? She sure didn't feel a day older than twenty-five. In fact, she'd never felt more like a young, helpless girl than she did right now.
Too many questions. Too many blanks.
Jenny prayed that it was all just a bad dream, yet she longed to be this mother from the bottom of her heart. Memories were starting to surface fast, and she felt her love for the boys grow with every single one of them, even though they all were a bit of a blur. She had no context, no idea where or when those memories belonged, but all kinds of images kept flooding her mind. Laughter, and tears, and cuddles. So real, so familiar, and yet so impossible. How could she have left her kids? And how could she ever make it up to them?
Stop! she almost cried out loud.
She had to stop this steady stream of images before it overwhelmed her. There was no use getting all worked up about something that might not even be real. No, Jenny needed to wait for Leonard and Spock to give her some answers. For Leonard to hold her and keep her head from exploding. For Leonard to make this all right. For Leonard, full stop. Jenny felt she'd never needed him more than now. Hoping to calm down, she conjured up his comforting smile, his grounding touch, his soothing voice, and tried to focus on analysing the other aspects of the mind-meld.
Until Spock had 'met' Sammy and Phil – when had she started using their names so naturally? – in that eerie tunnel, the whole experience had actually been pleasant. It had been nice to revisit so many memories, to share them with Spock in a way she'd never be able to share them with anyone else, not even Leonard. The way Spock had experienced her past just didn't compare to simply recounting single episodes to someone who couldn't imagine what her 'first world' had been like.
Leonard melding with Spock to experience this, too, would have been wonderful. The opportunity of a lifetime. He always wanted to know everything about Jenny's past, but no matter how attentively he listened to her tales, he'd never come close to really understand. Not like a mind-meld would have made possible. But, of course, Jenny respected that he hadn't wanted that. Although she'd really have to get to the bottom of why Spock's suggestion had scared him so much that, for a second, he'd looked like he might pass out with fear.
He must have gone through some really traumatising experience with a mind-meld, even though Jenny had no idea where or when that might have been. Leonard had never talked about or even hinted at anything like that. But then, he wouldn't, would he? Concerned as he always was about her well-being, Jenny often felt that he didn't seem to care a lot about his own. That had become her responsibility. And one she took very seriously.
She'd definitely follow up the mind-meld issue once the current mystery was solved. One thing at a time, though. There was no use trying to get the doctor to deal with his own problems while he was still helping Jenny with one of hers. She knew him that well. For now, she really needed to focus on making sense of her own mind-meld experience. But while she was waiting for news from Spock and McCoy, her thoughts kept circling back to Leonard's intense reaction.
Having felt increasingly uneasy herself, when she'd followed Spock through that winding tunnel, until he'd finally convinced her to let him go on alone, Jenny understood that a mind-meld could also be a less than pleasant experience. But although she'd certainly felt reluctant and afraid of what they might find, at no point had she felt overpowered or pressured in any way. Spock had been nothing but gentle and supportive, and she'd felt well protected the whole time. He'd thoughtfully guided her through the whole process, just like he'd guided her through that daunting bomb-defusing task on her very first mission.
No, while admittedly difficult in parts, the mind-meld hadn't been a scary or threatening experience at all. Whatever had Leonard so terrified, must have been something else entirely. And certainly nothing to do with Spock, because in that case, the doctor would never have let her meld with him in the first place. And judging from Spock's reaction, although obviously anticipating a certain reluctance regarding 'Vulcan voodoo', the first officer had seemed rather surprised by McCoy's categorical refusal, too.
-x-x-x-x-x-
"So, please spill, Mr. Spock," McCoy burst out as soon as he'd pushed all concerns about Hope to the back of his mind, trying to fully concentrate on what the Vulcan had to say. "What did take you so long? I was really getting worried there!"
"There was a lot to discover," the first officer replied mildly. "A whole new life full of memories. Besides, with the human mind it's not always easy to tell fact from fiction. And you wanted me to find out about facts, didn't you?"
"Yes, of course. Sorry, Spock," the doctor relented. "But this not knowing is driving me up the walls."
"Understandable," was the Vulcan's short response, before his earlier words suddenly hit home.
"Wait, what do you mean by 'a whole new life full of memories'?" McCoy was stumbling over his words. "Tell me everything, Spock! And you'd better start from the beginning!"
So the first officer filled him in, trying to be as concise as possible, and the doctor's eyes grew wider with every word coming out of the Vulcan's mouth.
"You're actually suggesting that she's a mother of two, and that those boys are, in fact, her sons?" McCoy summed up what he'd just heard, his voice audibly incredulous.
"I believe that is what I just said," Spock confirmed, and the doctor could practically hear the sigh that the first officer skilfully suppressed.
"But how could that be? Even if, disregarding all medical proof to the contrary, she'd had a baby as young as, say, fifteen, that kid could have been no more than five years old when she was put into stasis."
"As I have already told Lt. Hope, I do not have an explanation yet. That is why immediate historical research is essential, and I presume that you would like to help me."
"You can count on that, Spock," McCoy eagerly announced, ready to get going at once. "Where do we start? What's your theory? You do have a theory, don't you?"
"Indeed, I have several," the Vulcan nodded. "But I haven't yet informed you about everything, Doctor."
"What else, Spock?" McCoy glared at the first officer. "You told me she has two teenage sons, that Dakunia is somehow involved in all this, what else can there be?"
Exasperated, the doctor felt himself growing annoyed with Spock, fully aware of how unfair it was to vent on his friend, but helpless to stop himself. Spock was only the messenger, trying to help. But thankfully, the Vulcan had known him long enough not to take offence at his outbursts. Or at least the doctor hoped so.
"When I told you I saw Hope with her sons," Spock went on seemingly unmoved by McCoy's desperate rant, "I failed to mention that it wasn't the Hope we know I saw, but an older version of her. A version that seems to have lived a completely different life."
The doctor felt his jaw drop at that last revelation.
"So, you're saying our Hope has a counterpart in another reality, to whom she is somehow, magically connected and whose memories she shares? Or that our Hope didn't come from another time but another universe?"
Just saying the words 'another universe' out loud sent unpleasant shivers down McCoy's spine and made his hair stand on end.
"I believe either is possible, certainly to be considered in our investigations, even though I cannot see magic being involved," Spock replied, then, as if reading the doctor's mind, added, "But whatever universe it might include, rest assured that it's not the universe you, the captain, Lt. Uhura, and Mr. Scott had the dubious pleasure to spend some time in. Remember, I have met your counterparts, and neither our Hope, nor the Hope I have encountered during the mind-meld were in any way similar to those 'people'."
Despite himself, McCoy had to smile at the way Spock almost spat out the word 'people', clearly not impressed with their personalities and behaviour, even though he'd proclaimed that he'd found them 'quite refreshing' at the time. Apparently, the Vulcan wasn't above teasing his friends now and then.
"I'm relieved to hear that," the doctor sighed, looking expectantly at the Vulcan. "So, what are we going to do now?"
"I suggest we consult the ship's history banks, in case Hope came from our own universe's past after all."
"But you already did that when she first told us, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did. But with the additional knowledge we have now, we might still find something new there."
"I know you, Spock! You've already got something in mind, haven't you?"
"Indeed, I do, Doctor. As far as I remember, one of the women sharing Hope's name went missing for a few days in 2016. It might be a good idea to start our investigations there."
"2016… She would have been forty-five then!" McCoy murmured, his head spinning with the sheer craziness of the idea, trying and failing to picture Hope at nearly his age. "God, even Sherlock Holmes with his sublime deductive skills would throw in the towel at that. You know, the …"
"I know, Doctor, I am familiar with the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle," Spock cut him short.
"Of course, you are," the doctor mumbled, slightly miffed.
Spock raised an eyebrow and cast him what might almost have been a long-suffering glance.
"Why don't you check in on Lt. Hope, which I expect you are anxious to do, while I select and access the required computer banks?" the Vulcan suggested softly. "I would advise you, however, not to tell her anything we've just discussed until we have any of it verified."
Biting back the cutting retort that was on the tip of his tongue, McCoy gratefully nodded at Spock, then rushed out of his office to find Hope.
