When McCoy came to, he found himself sprawled on the floor of a dusty old dungeon cell.

'This again, huh?' he thought as he sat up. He was grateful to find that he wasn't in chains, but of course, his phaser, communicator, and medkit were gone.

"Jim?" he called, but the captain was nowhere to be seen. The only other one there was the little girl, Ariella. She was awake and sitting as far away as possible, looking frightened.

"It's alright," McCoy said softly as he walked over to her. "I won't hurt you. I'm a doctor." The girl just looked up at him with wide eyes. He knelt down and smiled kindly. "That doesn't help, does it? Don't worry; you're healthy. And I won't let anything happen to you, or my name isn't Leonard McCoy." Ariella just scooted back and started to cry. It tugged on McCoy's heartstrings.

"Aww. S'alright– I'll get you back to your parents. You'll see."

Valdis appeared outside the cell. "I'm afraid that's out of the question, Doctor."

McCoy stood and moved to the front of the cell, clutching the bars. "Where's the captain?"

Valdis waved his hand dismissively. "I'm holding him elsewhere. I have no use for him, but I couldn't put him here with you– can't have you plotting an escape together."

"Why are you doing this? And what do you need me for?"

Valdis closed his eyes briefly. "I'm not holding her for ransom, though that is what I want her parents to think. This is personal. Remember how I said I lost my son a year ago?" He pointed to the girl. "Her father is the doctor who let him die. Failed to save his life and pulled the plug. Said there was nothing more he could do and convinced me it was for the best."

"I'm sure he–" McCoy began to defend, but Valdis cut him off, hatred blazing in his eyes.

"No! That's not all. He gave up on my son, and they found a cure for the illness not a month later! If the doctor had just left him on life support..."

If Valdis said anything else, McCoy didn't hear it. He felt like he'd been sucker punched. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. The words rang in his ears, "let him die... nothing more he could do... found the cure not a month later..." It was too much like what happened with his father.

If only he would have waited. But his father had been in so much pain; he begged McCoy to let him go. Preserve his dignity. It still felt wrong. He was a doctor– his job was to save people's lives, not take them. If he'd given it more time, his father would have been cured. In that moment, it was like Valdis' hatred was directed at McCoy.

Murderer.

The word was a cold blade, embedded in his heart.

Once he found his voice again and focused back on the present, he said, "You want to get back at him. But I still don't see what you want from me."

"I don't actually need the triphozine for anything. I just needed to lure you here somehow, and tuberculosis is the disease I happened to pick. What I do need is your blood. You see, there was an incident a while back where human blood came in contact with the skin of one of my people; she had a paper cut, and simply touched a drop of that red blood with that finger. It caused a bizarre chemical reaction that burned and made her very ill. She lived, but it was reported that she may not have been so lucky if the blood wasn't washed off as quickly, or if she had anything worse than a paper cut. The reason I need you specifically, Doctor," he spoke the word with disdain, "is to develop an antidote. Of course, I don't intend for that to actually be finished before it's too late. It is a fitting retribution."

"I am never going along with your insane plan," McCoy asserted. Valdis crossed his arms.

"I think you will. You just need some persuasion. You will cooperate, one way or another."

"Why didn't you just take my blood, or the captain's, while we were unconscious?"

Valdis shrugged. "I thought I'd give you a choice, and have the way I obtain your blood be part of our agreement. This could be relatively painless."

"How considerate of you," McCoy said in a biting tone.

"I warn you, Doctor. I have no qualms about torturing you." McCoy's eyes were as hard as steel. He had been tortured before, to near death. While it was an experience he'd like to avoid having again, no amount of damage to his own person was going to get him to be a willing participant in this cruel plan.

Valdis smirked. "I see you are no coward. How about this: if you refuse to comply, I will torture your captain." McCoy tried not to show emotion at that; if he played like he didn't care, maybe he could protect Jim from being used as leverage. However, Valdis saw right through him.

"Nice try. You are the type that I could beat you within an inch of your life and you'd never crack, but I lay a finger on anyone else, and I have you, right?"

McCoy's chest heaved. "The captain wouldn't trade his safety for someone else's life either."

"Ah, but the question is, will you trade his safety for someone else's life?"

McCoy just glared and clenched the bars more tightly.

"You have six hours to decide, Doctor," Valdis said as he walked away. Once he was out of sight, McCoy turned and looked back at Ariella. She was quaking with fear, and his face softened.

"We'll find a way out," he said as he sat down again. "We always do. And anyway, he'll have to go through me and Captain Kirk to get to you." She still didn't say anything, which was no surprise. After all, he was not only a stranger to her, but an alien as well, even though he didn't look much different from her kind on the outside. He moved back against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest.

'Well, we missed our check-in a while ago. I wonder what Jim's doing. Probably pacing back and forth in his cell. Maybe he doesn't even know what's going on yet. For once, can't we beam down somewhere and just do what we came to do and leave? Someone's always got to throw a wrench in,' he thought, then shivered involuntarily. The cold was starting to make him feel stiff. 'What I wouldn't give for a nice cup of coffee, tea, or hot chocolate right now. I'll probably be lucky to get water.' He breathed on his hands and rubbed them together.

It was strange, being locked up without at least Jim or Spock. No one to talk to or try to plan an escape with.

His thoughts drifted back to his father. The decision he made still bothered him deeply. It was like one of those ethical questions that seemed to have no right answer. He wasn't sure that he would ever come to peace with it. He glanced over at the girl, and his thoughts turned to his own daughter.

"You know," he said aloud, "I have a daughter– Joanna. Joanna McCoy." He smiled, remembering when he found out that her mother hadn't had his little girl's last name changed. Even more importantly, Joanna hadn't wanted it changed. "She's not so little anymore, but I remember when she was your age. I sure miss her; I don't see her too much now."

"Are you scared?" Ariella asked in a small, hesitant voice. One of McCoy's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, yeah. I guess I am a little scared. I don't want anyone to get hurt, and I don't know how to protect both you and my friend. What we need is Plan C: a way out. The Enterprise– the ship where I work– it practically runs on Plan Cs."

Ariella sniffled. "I want my mommy and daddy." Her parents were probably going out of their minds with worry trying to look for her. 'They'll find out Valdis is holding her here, then he'll lure them into a trap,' McCoy thought, letting his head fall back against the wall.

When their captor returned a while later, McCoy was sure it could not have been six hours.

"Jim!" he exclaimed when he saw the captain being dragged along in chains. The doctor quickly assessed his condition– no visible injuries.

"Bones!" Kirk sounded relieved to see that McCoy was unhurt.

"I've decided that I'm not feeling like a very patient man, Doctor," Valdis said evenly, jamming an unknown weapon against Kirk's back. "What is your decision?"

A/N: You might be wondering how Valdis is able to lock them in a dungeon. Let's just say it's abandoned.