Jim feels kind of vindicated standing there in the cargo bay. Spock and a security detail are standing between him and Harrison and Jim's not sure if they're there to protect him from Harrison's death glare or apprehend the Botany crew once the crate is open and everyone can see the frozen guy encased inside.

"Is this really necessary," demands Harrison who looks both pissed and put out to be here in the middle of the night. The Botany crew look like they're sharpening knives to run Jim through while Spock seems indifferent and Leonard tired. It's not every night you get woken up to the claim that a rescued crew has a person in a crate. Even Jim has to admit, it's kind of out there and definitely within his flights of fantasy. "Opening the containers in this environment is detrimental to the integrity of the crystals. You are risking my cargo," adds Harrison.

"I cannot ignore such a claim," says Spock. He is uncertain of the validity of the accusation but to ignore it would be negligence on his part. He nods to Scotty who begins opening the crate.

Leonard lingers near Jim physically but emotionally he seems distant, like he doesn't believe Jim could be right, but will be devastated if he isn't. It doesn't matter, they'll all see in a second.

The crate pops open with the same cloud of cold air. The Enterprise crew present all step forward, except for Jim who's already seen this show. They step back speechless but not in shock, more like irritation or disappointment. "There's only Habavrioum crystals," reports Scotty, looking as though someone just spoiled the ending to a good mystery.

Jim does a double take. "What?" That's not right; it has to be some cruel joke Scotty's debuting at the most inopportune time. He steps forward, looking for his frozen friend. "No," he protests as the crystals gleam in his eye. "There was a guy in here."

Harrison looks like he's holding back a laugh as Jim turns on him. "What did you do with him?" demands Jim.

"Jim, calm down," says Leonard pulling him back.

Leonard's calm kind of pisses him off. There's a dead guy somewhere and Harrison is hiding the body. What's worse is he's making Jim look like he's losing it and Leonard isn't even slightly annoyed. "There was a guy in there," insists Jim. Leonard doesn't look overly convinced. "He must have switched crates. Open another," he begs to Spock.

Scotty moves to the next one, looking for the captain's permission to override the lock. Spock nods. The lid opens and Scotty sullenly shakes his head. "More crystals," he says apologetically. The next two are the same.

"I apologise for the intrusion," says Spock, employing diplomatic formality.

Jim's getting a little desperate. He can already tell the security detail doesn't believe him and he's losing Spock and Scotty. Leonard's gone from tired to a little sad. "I know what I saw," he insists; there's no doubt what he found. "Open another."

"I believe we have humoured the invalid enough," says Harrison, much to his crew's delight.

Spock tilts his head. This is a fragile place to be in. There is no evidence to support Jim's claim and thus no logical reason to continue the search based on a fruitless allegation but there can be no margin for error either. "Regrettably, I must insist."

They're not going to indulge Jim forever, certainly not for the other forty crates, s he has to get it soon. "That one," picks Jim at random.

The smile melts off of Harrison's face as he adopts his more typical standoffishness. As Scotty goes to a fifth crate, Jim's pretty sure they've finally found the crate in question.

"Very well then," concedes Harrison as Scotty opens the case.

Scotty runs his tricorder over the crate just to be sure there isn't some holographic technology at play. "They are Habavrioum crystals."

"This is what happens when inferior genes cloud the pool. Humanity should have bread out mental instability long ago," seethes Harrison as his men start to reseal the crated. "Captain Spock, as you know I am not subject to this kind of invasive breach of privacy, so you'll be more than understanding when I say my indulgence for this has run its course."

Something snaps in Jim. He's tired of Harrison's taunts and deception. The man is up to something and Jim can't let him get away with it. He charges towards Harrison. If Jim can't have satisfaction in exposing his lies, he'll take it in knocking that smug son of a bitch on his ass.

Jim doesn't make it to Harrison, Leonard throws himself in between them holding Jim back, and that- hurts worse than anything else tonight.

"Take him to my ready room," orders Spock. Leonard looks apologetic as he manhandles Jim who still clearly wants a piece of Harrison, out of the cargo bay. "Please forgive the intrusion tonight," says Spock before leaving Harrison and his people alone.

Jim's still spouting off about frozen men and conspiracies when Spock gets to his ready room. He doesn't relish what he's about to do, but ship operations come first. "Mr McCoy, you have violated several ship orders and infringed upon our guest's privacy."

"They're up to something," rebuts Jim. Why can't other people see that?

"They are transporting a Starfleet sanctioned shipment to a designated planet at Starfleet's request," states Spock. "You on the other hand, broke into the cargo bay and overrode several locks. It is a security breach that can no longer be ignored."

"But there was…"

"No evidence, Mr McCoy. Captain Harrison is a Starfleet operative whose property is protected by general order eighty-four, an order which I superseded tonight based on your claim." Spock's patience are running thin. He's never been fond of covert operatives but he respects their purpose. More importantly he abides by Starfleet's rules.

"A Starfleet operative?" mumbles Jim. That's new yet slightly disturbing information. Those guys are always up to no good, wearing manipulation and deceit like badges of honour.

"The specific details of Captain Harrison's mission are privileged." If Spock wasn't Vulcan, Jim would swear there was an under tone of pissed off in his voice.

"I know all about privilege, Spock, I was a captain once too. This is something else." Jim's certain, like ninety-eight percent. There's that voice of doubt that lives in his head since being escorted off his ship that says maybe he's not right. Not everyone is trying to kill him, albeit Jim probably would have more suspects in his murder investigation than most people, the universe at large isn't actively throwing psychos in his path. "I know what I saw."

"Enough," states Spock.

"It's true though." Jim can't shake the feeling this is what arguing with a father over whether or not he should be grounded would feel like if his hadn't died at the hands of the same Romulan that's left him in the position he's in now.

"You are confined to quarters except for meals and will stay away from Harrison and his crew, as well as the cargo bay and their assigned quarters," orders the captain.

Spock's clearly having none of it. Jim's not surprised. As much as he'd like to have Spock on his side, he only really needs one person to have his back. There's one person he can count on to assure him he's not insane. And that person has been pretty silent so far. "You believe me, right, Bones?"

Leonard just looks sad. God he wants to believe, but there's no evidence and it's not the first time Jim's hallucinated something. He's seen how far things can go when he covers for Jim or gives him endless rope. One day Jim'll hang himself with all that rope, and probably a few other people with him.

Leonard can't even look at Jim. The silence is more than enough of an answer. "Et tu, Bones?" says Jim, before storming out. It's a knife right in his heart. The thing is, it's not Leonard's fault; Jim knows he's backed into a corner.

Leonard stands there numbly starting at the door Jim stormed out of. Silence is its own treachery but Leonard can't lead Jim off a cliff either. There are no winners here tonight.

He feels he owes Spock some sort of explanation and Jim some sort of defense. "Not all Jim's delusions are about Narada. Some are hybrid moments between what actually happened and his brain trying to work in real information from the present. Nero would throw the dead bodies into cargo containers so they wouldn't sit and rot out in the open on the ship. He'd leave the container there so everyone could look at it and know what was in there, what fate awaited us." It's another dark secret, ghosts that still haunt the survivors. The frozen part is new to Leonard though.

"Keep him away from the Botany crew," instructs Spock and it's as close to infinite patience as they're going to get on the matter.

That night Leonard has nightmares about finding Jim's frozen corpse in a box. It goes well with Jim's side of the bed, left empty and cold all night as Jim sleeps in his blanket fort.

"Do you think I won't?" asks Nero in Leonard's ear. He's so close, the hate in his breath is burning Leonard's skin.

Leonard knows he will, there's never been a doubt in his mind that Nero will do everything he threatens and then some. Nothing Leonard says is going to change the outcome here. Nero will do it, to punish if Leonard says nothing, and he'll do it if Leonard does answer, as a warning to never do it again. Still, Leonard has to say something; not to appease Nero, but so he doesn't leave Jim in the silence.

"Please," says Leonard in a broken strangled sob. It's a good thing he's on his knees because he's too defeated and broken to stand anyways.

Jim just gives Leonard a small yet sad smile. He hasn't taken his eyes off Leonard since Nero forced them to kneel. He's close enough that he could wipe away Leonard's tears, but his arms are painfully restrained behind him.

Leonard can't bring himself to look at Jim. Every time their eyes meet, Leonard's quickly fall to the ground. He knows what's going to happen here and he can't bear to witness the moment Jim figures it out too.

"Take him," says Nero with a wave of his hand, sounding board and looking putout.

Jim fights with everything he has as Ayel and one of the guards pull him to his feet and march him along. It's no use really; they lost the fight months ago, it's all formality now.

Leonard's forgotten how to breathe. His traitorous body doesn't move an inch and because he doesn't know what's good for him, he doesn't look away.

Leonard does nothing as Jim fights, bites, kicks and screams as they shove him into the airlock and shut the door.

"Last chance, Doctor," Nero warns.

Leonard catches Jim's eyes through the window, mouthing the words, "I'm sorry," because as inadequate as they are, all other words pale in comparison.

Jim's a little more eloquent, managing, "I love you," before Ayel presses the button, opening the airlock to the dark emptiness of space.

"Frozen for all time," chuckles Nero as they watch Jim's lifeless body float away.

Leonard wakes with a start, his hand immediately shooting to Jim's side of the bed. It doesn't help that it's understandably empty and cold. Jim's not likely to forgive Leonard's lack of willingness to join team frozen guy in a box anytime soon. There are the eight minutes it takes Leonard to get from their bed to the blanket fort in the living room where he finds Jim sleeping peacefully, that he dreads the notion that Nero really did shove Jim out an airlock, and having Jim here with him has been nothing more than a beautiful dream he could get lost in forever.

Once he's confirmed Jim is alive, well and a standard thirty-seven degrees, he crawls back into bed. Sleep doesn't come. He keeps running things over in his head. There have been far too many unanswered questions lately and it's getting under Leonard's skin. Nero's words haunt him, echoing in his brain on a constant loop. It perplexes Leonard even more.

Nero never said it. Hell, Nero never shoved anyone out an airlock either- that would have been too quick for him. There are a lot more troubling things to unpack from that nightmare than an off comment from Nero. Still, it won't leave Leonard alone. Frozen in time, triggers something in his memory, something in a paper he read back in school, that he's long forgot except for a vague gist and a partial title.

Sleep isn't going to come so he might as well head into medical and see if he can pull the paper and satisfy one demon tonight.

It's Leonard's fault- mostly, but it does take two to tango. He's so lost in thought with frozen people tumbling around in his head and why something so absurd is ringing a bell, he's not watching where he's going. He walks right into someone, and he has to look up to make sure it is someone because it feels like walking head first into a bulkhead.

"Sorry," he says reflexively, but no name comes to mind. Hell, he doesn't even recognize the face of the large disgruntled gentleman that's with Ling and Otto. Leonard's pretty good with faces (and people's afflictions) more than with names and he's examined every single member of the Enterprise and Botany Bay's crews so it throws him that he doesn't remember this particular individual.

"You should watch where you're going," sneers Otto with the usual smug superiority Leonard's come to expect from Harrison's people while the nameless man glares daggers at Leonard.

"Oh?" starts Leonard, because he's not in the mood.

"It's fine," says Ling, waving Leonard off and shuffling her people along. "Accidents happen, Doctor. Have a good night."

Leonard stares after them, both out of irritation and to try and remember who the hell he just ran into.

"Computer, pull all the medical files for the Botany Bay crew members entered by Enterprise physician Leonard McCoy," her orders the second he steps into his office. He has four hours until his shift officially starts to put some of these demons to rest. While the computer sorts out his request, he starts drafting a note to his fourth year professor to find the article he's been trying to remember. It's going to be a long morning. The computer flashes 'unable to transmit' as he taps send. Clearly their transmission issues are still persisting.

He'll just have to do this the hard way and search the Enterprise's data base for a copy of the research paper or a copy of the fourth year medical reading list from university that year.

"Have you given up food and coffee?" asks Uhura as she enters sickbay, setting her sights on Leonard.

Perish the thought. He usually starts with 'good morning' but Uhura is clearly irritated about something, so it's probably better to not push his luck. "Coffee is the nectar of the gods," replies Leonard. If he wasn't so occupied he probably would have enjoyed a nice large cup this morning.

"So just intentionally rude, then?"

Shit. Leonard winces. He was so caught up in his research, he forgot about breakfast this morning. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to forget 'bout ya," he apologises. "I lost track of time." He doesn't need another person pissed off at him.

"You can tell me all about what's so interesting over coffee. It's the least you can do for blowing me off this morning," says Uhura with her take no prisoners glare.

Leonard looks longingly back at his office. He still hasn't found what he's looking for and it's an itch he can't seem to scratch, well at this point it's more like poison ivy and no amount of scratching is bringing any relief. He's read the synopses of more medical articles than he probably read in his entire first year of medical school and is still coming up empty.

Uhura stands there, arms crossed impatiently waiting for Leonard to capitulate. Her coffee break is only so long.

"Alright," concedes Leonard. He can spare ten minutes to focus on something that isn't patients or research. Maybe a break will lead to inspiration.

"Whatever you're working on, it certainly has you distracted," observes Uhura as they grab a seat in the mess hall. Leonard's unusually quiet and distant; he's always well into his third complaint by his first sip of coffee.

Leonard shakes his head. "Just lookin' for something. Are we still having issues with communications?" Uhura lets out a small groan and Leonard can tell he's hit a sore spot.

That problem has been the bane of her existence for the last few days. "We're working on it but so far no luck." Scotty's loath to admit it but they might have to head to a starbase for a full work up to find and fix the problem. He'll probably try and rebuild the ship before he admits it's a problem they seem unable to fix and Uhrua can't blame him. She's starting to take it personally too.

"Would this problem affect the computer? More specifically records?"

"We can't properly identify the problem so it's hard to say but communications should have no impact on data input on the ship, accessing the larger Federation network, probably." Leonard scowls at his coffee and Uhura can see the wheels turning in his head. "What's wrong?"

"I'm missing a medical file for one of the Botany Bay crew. I've gone through them all and I can't find one for a man I saw last night with Otto and Ling."

"Maybe he didn't go to sickbay? I thought some of them were alright when they came aboard. Or perhaps it wasn't entered correctly?"

"I had them all come in for a physical after I talked to Ling. And I did the work ups myself." Uhura gives a little coy smile. "And I checked, all new reports just in case I made the mistake," assures Leonard before she can say anything. "There has to be one because people don't magically appear on ships."

Uhura takes a long sip of coffee.

Leonard drops his head into his hands. "Lord help me, I'm starting to sound like Jim."

She wasn't going to say it. "How is he?" She heard all about the other night from Spock and can see how much it's weighing on Leonard. She hasn't been brave enough to talk to Jim about it yet. What do you even say?

Leonard looks a little pained. "Pissed. Though I suppose I would be too if my husband didn't believe me." There's guilt haunting him, scratching at his soul of which he shouldn't be absolved. The lines with Jim have always been blurry, where their friendship stopped and his feelings for Jim began, where Leonard sees the Jim Kirk he used to be and could be again and where reality has taken over. Where Leonard's faith in Jim starts and the Michigan takes over.

"Do you think he was right?" asks Uhura hesitantly.

"I want him to be right, for his sake, but…"

"But?"

"It's insane and there is no proof. And he can't afford for me to be wrong again." Innocent people almost died last time and Jim lost everything. It broke Jim- all over again. Leonard doesn't know how many times a soul can be shattered before the pieces are too small to piece together anymore. Leonard's the safety net, the one that has to hold the line and yank Jim back when he gets too dangerously close to the ledge.

"It will be okay. This time he has us to make sure he doesn't fall off the ledge," assures Uhura. They won't let Jim try to harm himself or get swept away in the memories of the past.

The thought of not being alone anymore brings a tear to his eye. It stings and burns as he wipes it away with the back of his hand. "I don't think Jim is feeling the us part right now." Apart from being pissed at Leonard's apparent betrayal, being confined to quarters doesn't exactly scream part of the family from Jim's perspective.

"He'll come around. Jim Kirk is stubborn like that," laments Uhura before they head back to their departments.

Jim's not exactly in a socializing mood. He'd much rather take his meal in his quarters and sulk because that seems like the most prudent course of action. Chekov has this weird superpower in those big puppy dog eyes of his and despite a resounding no, still manages to drag Jim to the mess hall for lunch. He's not going to be cheery or overly pleasant because Jim has to draw the line somewhere.

He follows Chekov like a lost puppy, always one step behind and ever vigilant of the crew around him. His paranoia is winning today, though based on recent events it's probably been winning for awhile. He should talk to Leonard about it, maybe be proactive in his treatment, but he's still furious with Leonard and slightly disappointed in himself. And there's that pesky principle thing again.

Deep down Jim can't fault anyone in this situation, which is its own kind of infuriating. He's not sure he would have reacted any differently if he was in Spock's shoes but he also knows he's right about this. Harrison is involved in something, even if the frozen guy was an incredibly vivid hallucination.

Sometimes Jim wishes he was unsalvageable. That he could just get lost in the madness of his mind and never surface again. Knowing you're losing touch with reality is its own kind of cruelty. Jim wonders if Nero knew just what kind of lasting damage he was inflicting while he was doing it. Perhaps this was his end game after all? He and Leonard doomed to run from it for the rest of their lives but never quite able to run far enough to escape it.

Chekov prattles on about the efforts to sort out the communications problems and engineering's all out effort to go over every inch of the ship, circuit by circuit to correct the issue. He's either babbling because he's oblivious that Jim's acting wounded or because of it. That makes it hard for Jim to play the martyr and that's just as frustrating as everything else today. It's hard to feel betrayed if you can't wallow in the idea that you were right and everyone else was wrong or against you. Jim really wants to feel betrayed right now because the alternative means he's losing it again and he has a lot to lose here.

This is what Leonard has always been worried about, that Jim would get attached and it would all fall apart again. Happiness seems to be a trigger to the universe to unleash its next wave of darkness upon Jim. On the farm, when it's just the two of them, Jim can be bat shit crazy until the cows come home, and Leonard, the gluten for punishment he is, will never abandon Jim, nor will anyone succeed in taking him away from Jim. Jim's really good at self-sabotage and out here that means losing the crewmen he's become attached to- like one mopped head relentless navigator.

Jim's not really listening to what Chekov's rambling about, rather just enjoying the sound of his constant voice as he follows the kid to a table, food tray in hand. Jim's slightly concerned that he can't seem to do anything to put the kid off. It's the late lunch shift so the mess hall is busy, but not cramped. The only free tables are near the back, which means wading through the tables and people.

Jim freezes as he catches a glimpse of a group of Botany crew at a table. "That's him," say Jim, and it barely comes out as a whisper. He tries again, "Chekov, that's him," and this time it comes out as a croak.

It works though because Chekov stops and goes silent. He looks doubtful but is either too polite to say so or afraid disagreeing will irreparably harm Jim and their friendship. "Dead people don't eat lunch," he says, finally finding his voice.

"He wasn't dead. Not completely. There were vitals being displayed. I mean you'd have to ask Bones all the whys and hows, but that's the guy. I swear it," declares Jim, his voice getting louder and drawing the attention of the tables they're standing next to.

Disbelief is written all over Chekov's face in neon paint.

"I swear on Leonard's life," swears Jim sagely. He regrets it immediately. He shouldn't bring Leonard into this, not when there's an equal chance it is all a product of Jim's messed up mind. Truth- he wouldn't bet Leonard's life on it, but he's committed to the idea now and saying he bet's his life on it wouldn't gain the same level of consideration.

"To what end?" asks Chekov. He's a genius and he can't see the clear line from frozen in a box to having lunch with people that had him in the box.

"I don't know, but I'll find out," says Jim, turning to charge towards the table. He has them now. There's nowhere to hide and no excuses.

Jim rolls his eyes and drops his shoulders in defeat the second he feels an all too familiar hand drop down on his shoulder. He really should have been paying more attention to the possibility of pointed ears in his presence.

Jim turns and plasters on his most enthusiastic smile. "Captain! Didn't think I'd have the pleasure of seeing you today." The fake cheer in his voice turns his stomach. Spock is someone he could do without for a few days.

"Indeed," agrees Spock. The silence hangs in the air as they stare each other down. Slowly, other people start to notice the scene, abandoning their lunches to take in the show. "What were my orders regarding the crew of the Botany Bay?"

Chekov remains silent. Jim's pretty sure it's a smart move on the kids part. He's already sunk his career and almost destroyed Leonard's, Chekov doesn't deserve that.

"But," starts Jim, ready to plead his case.

Spock raises an eyebrow, looking stonewall.

"You said to leave them alone," concedes Jim, because he needs Spock to be open to listening him.

"And yet you are preparing to do the opposite."

"That's the guy," says Jim, dropping his tray and pointing to the man in question. So far the table in question has been too far away to get sucked into the drama unfolding, but Otto catches a glimpse of Jim's outstretched finger.

Spock looks, pausing a moment to consider the claim. He hasn't met all the Botany crew members, there wasn't a need, so it's not unusual the man in question doesn't look familiar. "Computer, what is the number of life forms presently aboard the USS enterprise?"

"There are currently four hundred forty-three."

"And what was the count five days ago?"

"Four hundred forty-three."

"There are no extra crewmen present, Mr McCoy."

"But…"

"Furthermore, you are confined to quarters for disobeying a direct order and will report for a physiological evaluation tomorrow with Dr M'Benga. Mr Chekov, please tae Mr McCoy back to his quarters."

"You requested to see me, Doctor?" states Ling as she barges into sickbay.

"Yes," says Leonard, busy putting away some freshly sterilized equipment from his last patient. His welcoming smile vanishes as he turns around and realizes she didn't come alone. Harrison's followed her like some morose shadow, lurking in the doorway to the recovery suite.

Shit. Harrison is the last person Leonard wantes to talk to. He's unsure Ling will be entirely helpful or forthcoming, but at least he could appeal to her as a doctor. Harrison will probably lie just for the sport of it.

"Well, go on, Doctor," insists Harrison. That predatory gleam is back in his smile. "I hope this isn't a call to simply inconvenience my crew."

The last thing Leonard wants to do is associate with the Botany crew, never mind inconvenience them.

"… Like your husband," adds Harrison, for good measure, turning the knife a little deeper into Leonard's soul.

The ache in Leonard's jaw is instantaneous, as his teeth clenche hard and his hands tighten into fists at his side. Screw pleasantries and polite conversation, he's not even going to try and dance around the subject anymore. "I was reviewing your crew's initial scans and found an interesting correlation I'd like to show you." Leonard storms towards his office, practically pushing Harrison out of his way.

Ling and Harrison follow close behind. Leonard's too pissed to even try being professional about this meeting. There's something about Jim's name coming off of Harrison's lips that makes him crazy, like waving red in front of a bull. Neither of them seems interested in formality either, as Ling chooses to stand near Leonard's desk while Harrison again lurks near the door.

Leonard punches in the chart on the wall display behind his desk a little harder than necessary. "This is a scan I took of one of your crew the day we rescued you. All of your scans pretty much look identical." He waves his hand across the screen bringing another scan to lie next to the first. "This one I found in a research paper I read back in medical school."

"Your point?" hisses Harrison, looking rather board and put out.

Leonard drags the images together so the overlap, showing one perfect image of identical readings. "It was a history of medicine and technology class," states Leonard. There's no doubt in his mind that what he's looking at is the same thing.

"I don't understand what that has to with us," says Ling, cautiously.

Leonard turns and brings up a series of pictures on the screen from the research paper. "That technology was cryogenics- something we haven't used in centuries because we don't need to freeze people for space travel anymore. So just who the hell are…" says Leonard, turning around to confront Ling and Harrison, only to come up short. Harrison is standing right next to him and Leonard can feel the sharp bite of none other than his antique scalpel pressed firmly against his throat.

His eyes lock with Harrison; there's nothing but silence and Leonard instinctively knows the answer to his question. Jim was right, well sort of; the man was in a cryo chamber, a device long past its use. Whatever secrets Harrison is trying to keep, he's willing to kill for them.

There's nothing for Leonard do. He can't physically take Harrison down and if Ling isn't objecting to this action, he doubts she'll have much to say if Harrison applies an ounce more of pressure to the blade. Either Harrison will kill him or he won't, Leonard has no choice in the matter. He stares Harrison down. "You'll find it's most efficient to slit my carotid artery," says Leonard, cold and impassionate yet unyielding. "On the left."

Harrison tilts his head in curiosity. Clearly he was expecting Leonard to beg, not that it would do the doctor any good. "You are brave, Doctor," concedes Harrison, a little amazed. He pegged the doctor for a soft hearted fool. Obviously he misjudged him.

"Not brave," disagrees Leonard, fighting the urge to shake his head. "I've faced death before. There's little I can do to change your actions here. Either you kill me or you don't. It's out of my hands."

"Khan, we can't start leaving bodies around for them to find. We're not ready yet," cautions Ling.

"We're going to have to be ready, there's no more time," concedes Harrison. He lowers the scalpel but grabs Leonard by the shoulder, forcefully moving the doctor in front of him. "Come along, Doctor."

Harrison's grip is so painful it almost brings Leonard to his knees; it's practically inhuman. Spock's strong and Leonard's not sure he could grab someone so hard it would feel like he was crushing bones to pulp. Leonard has no choice but to move forward with Harrison. Being pressed tight against Harrison's chest is like held against a wall; there are no soft spots for Leonard to exploit. The scalpel digs into his back, the point announcing its presence embedded carefully between his ribs, ready to slip past and shred a lung if Harrison applies more pressure to the surgically sharp blade.

Harrison leans in close, pressing his cheek against Leonard's head, lips brushing Leonard's ear as he speaks. "Alert the nurse or anyone else in any way and I promise I will do unspeakable things to them and make you watch. Do you understand?" he threatens.

"Not him. Such a bleeding heart. You get to watch."

Leonard goes cold. It takes everything inside of him just to remember to breathe. He swallows hard, nodding his head minutely. All he can do is try to cooperate and keep this psycho away from his people. He'll do better this time- he has to.

"Make some excuse for leaving. Something no one will question and no one will come looking for you," instructs Harrison. His hand slips from Leonard's shoulder as they leave his office but the threat of the scalpel is ever present.

The fact that Ling seems unfazed by Harrison's actions tells Leonard just how screwed he is. He's seen how this plays out before and he's not a fan of the ending.

"I didn't know you were having a meeting," says Chapel in her usual chipper tone as the trio steps out of McCoy's office.

"Impromptu," offers Leonard, "turns out Ling and I have the same interest in historical medicine." Even he's impressed with how steady and smooth his voice is. It's a testament to just how often his life is threatened. The comm. on the wall is thirteen steps away. Leonard won't make it but Chapel might. Unfortunately, security is far more than thirteen steps away. Chapel would be able to call for help but it wouldn't do her any good nor the other two nurses on duty right now and M'Benga who could return from the lab any minute.

Chapel just smiles like she's just glad she doesn't have to be a part of that conversation.

"Ling wants to show me some of the research she's been doing over a late lunch," says Leonard. Harrison pushes the scalpel a little harder against his back, the tip easily finding its way through the weaved fabric of his uniform and the first few layers of skin. It's not enough to draw more than a pin prick of blood, but enough to get the point across.

"Then I'll probably call it a day and go check on Jim. He doesn't handle being confined to quarters very well," Leonard adds, glaring over his shoulder. It's one small mercy. If Jim's not allowed to leave their quarters, then he's relatively out of harm's way for the moment. "Can you let M'Benga know he's minding the store today?"

"Will do," assures Chapel.

The three walk out of sickbay together and Leonard wants to puke- out of relief or trepidation is unclear.