'USS Enterprise to Starfleet Command. After five months we have found the Narda. Requesting permission to engage."

Leonard knew the fall was coming; it always does. He's not surprised. He has years of medical training and more than a decade of personal hands on Jim experience to not be surprised, but somehow he's still a little disappointed- not with Jim, never with Jim. He's disappointed with himself. He let hope and happiness blind him and whisper false promises that they were special, the exception to the rule; like some switch in Jim's brain could be flipped back to factory settings. This time would be different.

He can see how the others could have believed it, but after all this time, he's not sure how he got sucked down that delusional rabbit hole as well. He's had a lot of time to go over it too, sitting in a jail cell for the last eighteen straight hours. So much for relations with the natives.

"Admit it, you had doubts," says Jim, cutting into his pastry wrapped meal. It looks like beef wellington but tastes like blueberry pie. The server insisted it's a traditional dinner option; Jim's not going to argue.

Leonard takes a sip of his drink. "I had reservations," he says cautiously. It's not that he doesn't have faith in Jim, but this romantic 'weekend' has a lot of moving parts, not to mention a new species thrown in the mix. Things are going pretty smoothly; they have been for awhile. Leonard could get used to these grand gestures and calm seas.

"Always looking for the negative," says Jim with a smirk.

"I prefer cheerful pessimist," corrects Leonard, raising his glass in toast. Jim picks up his glass and clinks the glasses together. Jim's foolishly optimistic enough for the both of them. Someone has to be practical in the relationship.

Leonard has to admit the trip is just what he needed. The tension he's been carrying since the incident with the bear like creature has vanished and he's managed to sleep through the night with nothing but pleasant dreams. When they decide to actually get some sleep that is. It's a shame that they only have two days left. "Should we order desert?"

"I can think of better indulgences for the evening," answers Jim, using his foot to rub at the inner part of Leonard's thigh under the table.

Leonard clears his throat and shifts in his chair. He's not limited in his sexual escapades but unlike Jim he tends to draw the line at exhibitionism. It's Leonard's resolve that keeps Jim from doing something depraved right on top of the table. "You're going to have to hold that thought for twenty minutes, Jim."

Jim pulls his foot away with a pout.

"Like dealing with a child," mutters Leonard as he signals the server over to settle up their bill. It's not a bad time to leave either, as a bunch of teenagers (Leonard guesses based on their size) gather at the entrance to the outside seating courtyard of the restaurant. They're carrying sighs but based on the pictures it's not hard to decipher their sentiment. It's a demonstration of some good ole fashioned xenophobia. Wanting to avoid the spectacle Leonard wraps his arm around Jim and they head for the exit to spend the rest of the night back at their accommodations.

The kids are clustered tightly at the entrance making it difficult to wade through the crowd. One of the teens shoves Leonard just to emphasize his point about creatures with two legs being inferior to those with six.

Leonard's apology for 'getting in the way' should be been the end of it. He's not here to change their narrow minds but he's not going to give them anything to support their hate either. The group turn their focus specifically on Leonard and Jim since they're the closest. Most of the words they chant don't exactly translate well, so Leonard can assume they're unflattering slurs. Clearly not everyone on the planet is as excited about welcoming the Federation as the government is.

Leonard can feel Jim tense up. "Just leave it. It doesn't matter," he cautions. This isn't some rural town where disagreements are settled with fists followed by cold beers, this is the busy capital belonging to a species with a budding relationship with the Federation. He steers Jim along, but the more words coming out of this kid's mouth the more it's like trying to push a boulder along. Leonard's big enough to take a few misplaced insults but it's getting harder to ignore the crap being spewed at them.

"Look at it. It even walks funny," proclaims the kid that shoved Leonard, pointing a long arm at Jim.

It's a cheap and dirty shot. Leonard would like to see how well the kid can walk with a leg that was broken in several places and received no proper medical attention as it healed, even if he does have five other legs. He turns sharply, never letting go of Jim. "That's about enough," he warns, aiming to hold onto some semblance of diplomacy while still conveying his distain.

Jim sags a little in Leonard's arms. The mood's definitely dead and it's a shame because it took a lot of work to put everything together. He can't help but feel that his condition is like a beacon attracting turmoil and strife into his and Leonard's lives. "Let's go home," he whispers, like he's pleading for his life. This isn't the kind of attention he wanted today.

Leonard's not sure if he's talking about the yurt, the ship or perhaps the farm. He doesn't get much time to consider it; the second he turns around to leave, a thin yet hard skeletal hand comes crashing down on his shoulder, violently yanking him back and out of Jim's embrace. Leonard's unable to get his feet underneath him, faltering several steps before landing flat on his back- hard. The vibration ripples through his skull, building and rolling through him like a tidal wave of pain. He gasps for breath, the air knocked out of his lungs. It's nothing horrifically serious but Jim apparently doesn't see that way.

Young and dumb and not to be deterred until they get the response they were hoping for, the protesters swarm tighter around Leonard. Through their feet he can see the other crew members leave their tables and try to diffuse the situation. It isn't hard for Leonard to see that look taking over Jim. "I'm fine, Jim," shouts Leonard to be heard over the crowd's taunting.

It's no use, Jim can't hear him. Then some fool puts his damn hands on Leonard and Jim is gone in a haze of desperate violence and screaming that there is, "No way they're taking Leonard. Not this time."

That mythical illusion that Jim is just another Starfleet officer in the crew compliment dies in that little restaurant as the crew watch in horror as Jim attacks the protesters. The poor bastards had no idea who they were taunting. Leonard would feel a little bad for them but it's only Jim that really matters.

Jim throws himself at the kid that grabbed Leonard, tackling him to the ground. He's a hurricane of fists and rage, punching for all he's worth. Yellow blood is spraying across the ground as his fists break and crack more of the insect like species flesh covered shell. The kid's friends try to help, moving in to pull Jim off but Jim just turns his fury on them.

Leonard tries to get to his feet but those who aren't involved in the fight start to panic creating a mad rush for escape. It's like a stampede and all Leonard can do is try and crawl out of the way to not be crushed in the chaos.

Spock appears with the Myatolin's version of a lawyer and a sheriff. The captain looks all kinds of pissed off under that Vulcan mask of his. Leonard doesn't envy the amount of paper work an incident like this is going to generate for their captain.

Leonard shifts a little on the cold hard slab of rock meant to serve as a cot for the prisoner and braces himself for a thorough ass chewing. He's responsible for Jim and even if Spock takes his side, Leonard understands being the sacrificial lamb for the sake of a budding relationship with a new species. Starfleet has gotten good at using Jim as theirs.

The sheriff silently comes forward and unlocks the cell door with a series of cylinders that work like old fashioned keys. He's keeping his opinions silent but Leonard doesn't miss the subtle glares being thrown his way.

"The Myatolins have agreed to release you and Jim into my personal custody," states Spock.

Leonard stands up and straightens his uniform shirt. "That was mighty generous of them," he says in disbelief tainted with condemnation. They shouldn't need releasing in the first place, but the Myatolins don't come across as the most understanding of psychological issues. Given the circumstances, he thought it would have taken Spock longer to negotiate their way out of this and with harsher consequences; Jim did almost beat two citizens to death and injured three others.

"The ship is required to cancel shore leave and leave Myatolin space, never to return," elaborates Spock. It's an unfavourable conclusion to a promising first contact. "It was the best resolution I could negotiate."

There it is. Even if Leonard can get Spock to overlook this disastrous attempt at first relations, Starfleet will be less likely to forgive or forget. That damage control is secondary to that with the crew. Leonard's seen that look of fear in people's eyes before, like Jim's just some wild animal waiting to attack. It's simply not true. They just don't know him.

It's not completely false either.

Someone has the insight to call the authorities. Not that they know how to handle the situation. Both Jim and the kid are fighting for their lives- the kid because Jim isn't showing any sign of stopping and Jim because he has that look in his eyes like his survival depends on the outcome of this altercation.

Leonard's seen this look before. The sick look of satisfaction in Jim's eyes as he keeps punching, like he can beat the scars of Nero out of his memory or perhaps stop Nero from ever having laid a hand on anyone if he just keeps hitting. Leonard struggles to get closer, not caring who he has to shove out of his way.

"Jim, I need you to look at me!" he shouts getting as close as possible without being in striking distance.

Jim looks up but doesn't see Leonard. He doesn't see anything but blood on the floor and Nero's smiling face. The blood's everywhere, enough to drown in. The things they did to the crew, to Jim- to Leonard, they're not going to get away with it.

The sound of flesh connecting with flesh and exoskeleton echoes in Leonard's ears. Jim's going to kill someone and that's something he won't come back from. "Jim, enough!" It falls on deaf ears. Jim's all snarls with blood splattered on his face and hands like war paint.

Law enforcement moves in pulling away those trying to help the kid and any crew members trying to break up the fight. One latches onto Leonard's arm, yanking him up to his feet. Leonard can see the resolve to end this situation using any means necessary dancing in the insect like faces.

"It's not what you think," says Leonard as one of the officers tries to drag him away. "He doesn't know what he's doing." He struggles to get free, to make his way back to Jim.

The other members of the Myatolin security team manage to pry Jim off of the kid but just earn themselves the position of being his new targets. There's blood in the water and like a shark, Jim's all sharp teeth.

"It's not Nero!" shouts Leonard, fighting his own battle to get back to his husband. He makes it a couple steps away from the officer but a sharp blow to just behind the knee sends him crashing to the ground. The officer raises his clear baton in the air threatening to bring it down on Leonard again should he try and get up.

Leonard stays on his knees, watching helplessly as the other remaining guards use their weapons to try and subdue Jim. "Jim, stop," sobs Leonard.

They finally wrestle Jim to the ground. It takes two of them to hold him down as he thrashes to get free and another two to secure Jim's hands behind his back with metal cuffs.

"You don't understand," pleads Leonard as they drag him away. He contorts himself to peer around the guard, desperate to not lose sight of Jim. "I can help him," he promises because he has to make them understand. This isn't someone threatening violence against the Myatolin people, this is a soul in pain, who would never intentionally hurt them if he was in his right mind. If they're not careful they're going to make not only this situation worse but Jim's over all mental health as well. "He's not well."

The guard either doesn't understand or doesn't care. He just continues to drag Leonard further away from Jim. They finally get outside the confines of the restaurant courtyard. A crowd has gathered, all gawking and pointing at the humans that have come and disturbed their peaceful town. He can see several members of the crew gathered on the street corner, watching and asking questions. One of them is communicating with the ship. Leonard can only hope someone from command intervenes soon.

"You are charged with inciting a riot," proclaims the security officer as he places handcuff on Leonard.

"We weren't the ones that started it. That was your people," snaps Leonard. "You have to let me help my husband."

Anyone can be pushed into losing it. Jim's cliff is just closer than other people's.

"I assumed you would want to be present when they release Mr McCoy," says Spock. His voice is formal and precise like a captain's should be but there's a flicker of sadness in the depths of his Vulcan eyes that's almost human.

Leonard goes cold. It was a mess to start with, but Jim's also been locked up for eighteen hours, so it will be like handing Leonard a lit stick of dynamite. "You assumed right."

"There is one more stipulation. Since Mr McCoy has been deemed a criminal here, he is not allowed out of his cell without restraints and we cannot beam back to the ship from inside the city. If we do not comply, he will remain here in custody for twenty years."

Leonard closes his eye and takes a deep breath. Things just keep going from bad to worse. He nods because what Spock's not asking in front of their escort, is can he get Jim to into a set of restraints without force and keep him together until they're back aboard the Enterprise.

"Have you seen him?" asks Leonard. Due to Jim's violent reaction he and Leonard weren't permitted to be in the same facility.

Spock nods. "Our hosts have not mistreated him."

Leonard could disagree. He can't expect decent treatment from a species that doesn't believe in psychological issues. It's not the answer Leonard was looking for. His gut clenches as he remembers those dark days trapped on Nero's ship and the steady decline of their mental and physical wellbeing during their months of captivity.

They walk in silence to the maximum security wing of the jail. Leonard tries not to take it personally that the Myatolins don't think he's capable of being a real threat because if Jim's not physically okay they're going to realize their mistake in a very bad way.

"They put hands on me and Jim thought they were going to hurt me," offers Leonard breaking the silence because he feels he needs to give Spock some kind of explanation about what happened.

"We will discuss it later," says Spock, shutting down the conversation.

Leonard kind of wants to talk about it now because there are no innocent parties here. The protester is still in the hospital and four of the officers are sporting injuries that will heal in time. Leonard's no worse for wear and Jim... Leonard can only imagine. Just like that, everyone was reminded that Jim's not one of them- not completely stable.

The fall somehow hurts worse when you forget to expect it.

Leonard's not sure what he's going to find in that cell; just how long it's going to take to carefully put each one of Jim's broken pieces back together again. It took Jim three months after they were rescued from Nero for him to utter a single word to anyone other than Leonard after surgery, and it wasn't like he was gracing Leonard with anything more than yes or no's to questions. The handcuffs are going to be a tough sell in any state.

There's an eerie silence in the jail, like they're going to identify a body in the morgue not release a prisoner. The thought of taking Jim out of here is the only thing convincing his body to move forward. Fear that this is the one time Leonard won't be able to bring Jim back to the world is a ball and chain around his neck, choking him and threatening to pull him down.

The space outside of the cell is packed with people, like spectators at the zoo waiting for the lion to come out for feeding time. Leonard kind of wants to give the Myatolin security detail a show but he's not sure what would be more satisfying- giving them what they fear or proving them wrong.

Sulu and Chekov are already standing outside Jim's cell acting as security officers for the Enterprise. Leonard's relieved it's some familiar faces rather than the on duty security detail, and the Myatolins clearly don't know the difference between security officers in red and command officers in gold posing as security.

One of the guards who is young and eager and clearly low on brains mumbles under his breath, but not low enough, because the universal translator picks is up. "Crazy bipeds."

Leonard shoots a steely gaze accompanied with a sneer that's all jagged edges promising a painfully slow death. It works better than any translator because the guard clicks his insect like mandibles nervously while taking a step back. Leonard's taken an oath to do no harm but he's willing to amend it to 'do no harm he can't personally fix' if any of them dare make the situation any worse.

He has to stay focused on what matters now and it's not the small minded opinion of these people. All the fear and hesitation evaporates from Leonard the second he lays eyes on Jim. His body shifts into survival mode, cataloguing every detail of Jim and triaging what to address first.

The cell door slides open with a heavy clunk that echoes off the walls and Leonard's soul. Jim flinches slightly at the sound but doesn't uncurl from the tight ball he's pulled himself into on the floor. His bloodied knuckles grip tightly around his knees, keeping them pressed to his chest as shuddering breaths wrack his body. He's got his back to the cell door so he can't see the audience that's gathered, not that it would matter with the way he has his eyes clenched closed.

Leonard wants to scream and rage. They have no idea the sacrifice Jim has made. Leonard wants to shout it from the roof, broadcast it to every ship and planet in the known universe. This heap of mess curled in a ball in a dingy prison cell didn't get this way be being inferior.

"Jim," says Leonard, softly as he places his hand tenderly on Jim's shoulder. The tiny whimper that escapes Jim's cracked and spit lips is an icy shard that plunges straight through Leonard's heart. "Jim, it's me. It's Leonard. You're safe now. We're being rescued," he promises. His hand rubs soft slow circles on Jim's back.

The words burn his throat. He hates this promise- hates that he has to make it all; that it always finds away to make him a liar in the end.

Jim doesn't need to open his eyes to know it's Leonard crouched next to him. The man radiates warmth and safety without even trying. The timber of his voice and quiet reassurance of those steady firm hands that are always there to catch him mixed with the faint scent of Leonard's cologne and something that is uniquely Leonard make every cell in Jim's body sing.

It takes some effort for Jim to uncurl his fingers. They've been cramped and aching ever since he gave up trying to punch his way out of the cell. They eventually cooperated and he doesn't waste one second before wrapping them tightly in Leonard's shirt and clinging on for dear life. They're not going to take Leonard from him again.

"Think we can stand up?" asks Leonard.

Jim frantically shakes his head. He just wants this- to be safely held in Leonard's lap as his husband gently strokes his hair. The rest of the world doesn't exist in this moment.

"Okay, Jim," says Leonard. "Whenever you're ready." Leonard's willing to sit there long past the point where he can't feel his legs and the chill from the stone floor leeches out every last bit of warmth he can generate; however long Jim needs. If waiting happens to irritate the Myatolin guards and drag their discomfort out... icing.

Jim doesn't say a word as they beam aboard the ship but Leonard can feel the tension dissipate slightly when Chekov removes the restraints the second they appear on the transporter pad.

Leonard feels like he's escorting a zombie to sickbay. He kind of feels hollow and out of it himself. It's a good thing regulations recommend Jim have a separate physician other than his husband because Leonard's not sure he can focus or be objective enough to give Jim an exam.

He sits on a nearby biobed, having refused his own medical examination (he can diagnose his own stress and bruises from the situation later, thank you very much) and watches M'Benga and Christine perform Jim's workup.

Jim sits silently and compliant, staring hard at nothing as M'Benga and Christine work as quickly and professionally as possible. He's not looking at Leonard, but Leonard knows Jim's aware he's there.

Jim's dehydrated and his hands suffered minor cuts, bruising and a few hairline fractures. Jim tolerates the osteo-regeneration but becomes uncooperative when Christine tries to use the dermal regenerator. Addressing his ribs is out of the question at this juncture.

It would be easier if Jim let them finish but in the end it's just cuts and scrapes and a few bruised ribs. If Jim can live with the sore muscles and bandaged hands and chest for a few days, so can Leonard.

Jim still doesn't say anything as they head back to their quarters but he walks quickly and with purpose instead of being led there by Leonard. He makes a beeline for the bedroom the second they walk in the door, grabbing a bottle of bourbon Leonard had been saving on his way and locks the door behind him.

Leonard doesn't even try and stop him.

If Jim wants to solve his problems tonight by drinking a whole bottle, Leonard won't object.

Leonard grabs a bottle of scotch Scotty gave him. It's not his choice of poison but he just needs to get blind drunk right now so he'll drink anything within reach. He sits down in front of the bedroom door and raises the bottle in toast, "To date night."

"Have I not been kind to you? Shown you mercy?" demands Nero as he paces back and forth in front of the line of kneeling Starfleet officers. No one meets his eyes. His guards make sure of it, looming over huddled prisoners, ready to strike out at any behaviour that displeases them.

"I feed you, and keep you alive." Nero stops pacing in front of the doctor. "And you dare to steal from me?" He grabs a fist full of Leonard's hair and yanks him to his feet. There's a collective moment of relief among the other captives- Nero hasn't chosen them.

Leonard winces under the tight grip that doesn't seem to loosen even when he's gotten to his feet. Nero's face is so close to his he can smell the Romulan's warm and foul breath. He knows exactly what this is about but he refuses to regret it, let alone apologise for it.

"Have I not been merciful and humoured your requests, doctor?" Nero demands with a quiet snarl. There's something more terrifying in the intimacy of the quiet closeness. "Answer me!" he says pulling Leonard even closer with a hard yank.

Mercy isn't a word Leonard would use to describe their accommodations or their treatment. Any medical supplies he's been given to tend to his fellow captives has been woefully inadequate if not an all out joke. Nero's playing with them like a cat toying with a mouse.

He stands there, stoic and unflinching. There are no right answers to give. Anything Leonard can offer will only enrage Nero. The best he can do is keep all that rage and evil focused on him.

Nero nods towards one of the guards when no answer is forthcoming. The guard grabs Lieutenant Fitzgivens from the line and drags her to the center of the room. Her leg is pretty much useless at this point. Infection has been killing the limb for weeks despite Leonard's attempts to cut it out in the absence of decent antibiotics.

Fitzgivens locks eyes with Leonard, her face a wash of sheer terror and desperation. It's never good to be singled out by their captors. Leonard's helpless to watch as large tears roll down he cheeks.

"No!" he cries as the guard pulls back his knife and slams it into Fitzgivens's back. The blade slices through her body, appearing through the front in a geyser of blood. She lets out a pained wail, going still and silent as the guard twists the knife before ripping it out. The body crumples to the floor.

Leonard's knees go weak, his breath coming out in short rapid gasps. This is his fault. He stole the medical supplies to help Fitzgivens. He was out of options and desperate. She trusted him to save her and instead they killed her to punish Leonard for his transgression.

"Now you have no need to steal," whispers Nero patting Leonard on the shoulder. God, Leonard wants to wipe that smug self-satisfied smirk off his face. "Am I not merciful?" Nero screams in Leonard's ear. It's so loud Leonard's ears start to ring.

Leniency isn't killing the one Leonard was trying to help. Compassion would have been giving him the supplies he needs to treat what's left of his crew properly, but mercy doesn't live on the Narada. Maybe Fitzgivens is the lucky one after all.

Nero backhands Leonard. His head snaps to the side with a sickening crunch. It throws him off balance enough that he topples over even with Nero's hand tangled in his hair. Nero lets go like he can't be bothered to touch something so dirty.

The room's spinning as Leonard finds his way to his knees. He can't hear anything over the ringing but he can see the look of fear and anger on Jim's face. Jim looks like he's fighting the urge to spring forward and attack the guards. Leonard prays to a god that can't possibly exist here that Jim stays put. He can't have any more blood on his hands.

Nero storms over to his self appointed thrown and flops down. He flicks his wrist at his second in command. A predatory smile overtakes Ayel as he moves in on the doctor. There's blood in the water and Ayel's been desperate to feed for awhile.

Leonard doesn't see the boot coming as it connects squarely with his back, sending him face first into the floor. He does catch a shadow of it as Ayel kicks him in the face. For the first time in weeks, Leonard sees stars. Blood pours from his nose painting the front of his tattered shirt in red.

The nine or so surviving crew members stay silent, looking anywhere but at the blood bath taking place in front of them. All they can feel is relief that it's not them this time, an uncharitable thought that it is. Everyone that is, except Jim. Jim couldn't look away if he wanted to.

It's not the first time Nero's men chose to execute one of their captives in such a display. Jim didn't turn away for any of them either. Someone had to bear witness, to remember who they lost and why. Nero is particularly fond of punishing those that are in charge. He's down to the bottom dregs now, so apparently anyone will suffice; even a doctor who does nothing more than help people- even Nero's when tasked.

Leonard cries out as Ayel stomps down on his hand; the tiny bones no match for Ayel's solid metal heel. He chokes as the blood from his nose pours down the back of his throat using his short pained gulps at air to flow into his lungs. The tears are unavoidable as his ribs cave under the continuous blows to his chest and stomach. Curling into a tight ball doesn't deflect as many as it should.

"Stop it!" shouts Jim. He can't sit idly by while these monsters go to work on Leonard. He goes to stand up and rush to Leonard's defence but two sets of large strong hands hold him in place. "He's had enough!"

Ayel spares a momentary glance at Jim. These humans are so weak and pathetic, he'd hoped for more from them, something worth putting the effort into. They break so easily, both physically and mentally. Ayel turns back to the waste of flesh before him giving the guards permission to handle the human's pathetic uprising.

One of the guards strikes Jim in the head with his staff. The blow sends Jim back down to his knees.

"I'm in charge." Jim knows he'd win by popular vote, hell the prisoners would vote anyone dumb enough to volunteer as the highest ranking officer. Fitzgivens was the last of the actual officers. The rest are new ensigns or cadets with field commissions for field training aboard the Troubadour. Leonard's a lieutenant but has no command experience leaving Jim the only real choice. He'll do it, because he doesn't know how not to and because anything that takes the target off Leonard is the way to go. "You want to punish someone? I told him to steal the medical supplies," declares Jim around his broken front teeth.

He didn't issue any such order. Hell, he didn't even know Leonard was stealing medical supplies for them, let alone that he could. Jim's damn proud of him. Who'd have thought the pacifist in the group would be the anarchist?

"Shut up, Jim," chokes out Leonard. He doesn't know why Jim's always in such a hurry to be Ayel's punching bag.

Ayel doesn't stop. He's found his toy for the day; Jim will just have to wait his turn.

Nero sits silently watching the chaos. Every muffled thud and smack of flesh is music to his ears.

Jim has to do something. They're all so beaten and broken already it won't take much for any of them to be the next Fitzgivens. He will not see Leonard be Nero's next casualty. Leonard is going to grow old, watching his daughter play with his grandchildren from the porch of his old farm house like any good crotchety curmudgeon. Jim just has to make himself more appealing.

"I sent the message!" declares Jim. The admission feels like his soul is leaving his body.

The words pierce the grey darkness that's filling in Leonard's word. He wants to die right there because what's coming isn't something he'll be able to survive. For weeks they have been keeping mum about who managed to send the distress call to the Federation that alerted them to Nero's plan. The Narada is currently on the run from pursuing ships because of what Jim did. Nero's going to strip Jim a part, piece by fleshy piece in retribution for destroying his plan.

Nero sits up a little straighter holding his hand out to halt Ayel from his work. He cut their rations, their medical supplies, worked them tirelessly and beat them senseless and none of them would give up the saboteur. But now for this doctor, the rat has come scurrying out.

Nero crosses the space between his thrown and the prisoners in five large steps. He's practically on top of Jim as he yanks the human close, lifting him up by the throat until they are at eye level. Jim's feet kick out in a desperate attempt to find purchase. "You," he accuses. Nero waited over twenty years to exact his revenge for his family, only to be thwarted by a message from his own ship. "I have something special for you," he says, a tight gleam coming to his eye as he finally has a human worthy of his efforts. He drops Jim to his feet.

Jim stands there as straight as possible. Nero's smile is terrifying but he won't flinch. He won't risk losing Nero's attention. He'll take whatever the Romulan wants to dish out so long as Leonard knows none of it.

"Jim, don't," begs Leonard, still curled on the ground.

Jim looks at Leonard crying on the floor. His father saved the lives of almost everyone on his ship; Pike dared Jim to do better. Jim's going to do better right now. He's going to save the person that matters most in this universe, because damn it if the sun doesn't rise and set with one Leonard McCoy. "Bring it," says Jim, with a steely calm he didn't know he possessed.

"Take him," orders Nero, his men moving quickly to comply. "Take the rest of them back to their cell."

The guards begin to herd the prisoners. "Not him," says Nero as they go to pick up the doctor. He cups McCoy's bruised and bloody jaw tenderly, wiping away one of Leonard's tears with his thumb. "Such a bleeding heart," he says tenderly and it makes Leonard want to throw up. "You get to watch," he whispers.

Leonard really wished they had killed him instead.