When five hours later McCoy exited his sickbay, he felt each and every one of the thirty-six years behind his back. He wondered when he was going to have his first gray hair. He actually considered it a miracle that he didn't have it yet, even though Jim did his best to put this color on his head.
Jim, and now this girl. He hadn't seen a case like this since the Academy when the very Jim had managed to get the same disease Lee was currently suffering from.
Orion flu was a highly predictable illness with an effective vaccine given to every kid after their thirteen birthday. Jim didn't have the vaccine because he'd been hopping across the Universe at this age. The girl didn't have the vaccine too.
And just like his friend, the girl appeared to be allergic to everything that worked well against the flu. Not everything, actually. He hit her with only one hypo and when she went into anaphylactic shock and stopped breathing after another hypo with antiallergenic medicine, he decided not to risk it. He stabilized her temperature with a simple aspirin (thank God she wasn't allergic to it too) and searched through her things in an attempt to find an ID and get an access to her medical history. He found nothing. She practically didn't have anything except her clothes, which made the second strange fact about her.
The final mystery came to the light when his nurses were changing her into a standard hospital robe. A loud gasp interrupted his evaluation of the girl's vitals. He turned around and cursed.
They only removed her gloves, but the sight was already terrifying. Their new patient didn't have nails. Someone had accurately pulled it out just recently, but the new nails were appearing again. Her fingers had signs of the tool that had done it to her, and this like hell wasn't any medical tool that he'd worked with or heard about.
Her hands were marred by scalds, and when they removed her jacket, the whole present medical personnel gasped again, staring in shock at her arms.
"Oh dear God above," he heard himself saying.
The nurse stepped back, covering her mouth, a seasonal, well-trained nurse. So he stripped Lee out of the rest of the clothes himself and took a good look at the body that fit his lap so nicely just several hours ago.
He knew such things, of course. He was Jim Kirks' physician, after all, and Jim Kirk had an adorable habit to get himself as many injuries as possible. But seeing someone young, beautiful and so fucking small being wounded like this was surreal. It didn't make any sense to him.
Lee's skin practically didn't exist. Almost all her body was covered in small burns, black and neat, caused by something round. And those were not the burns people get accidentally, no, those were the types of injuries people get after someone put white-hot metal on their flesh.
He didn't have to be a genius to come to the simple conclusion: the girl was tortured. Severely, mercilessly and recently, just two or three days ago. And this was the twenty-third century, for christsake.
McCoy set a skin regenerator to work and scanned through her vital again. He recognized malnutrition at first glance, as well as overall exhaustion, and suddenly felt that he couldn't stand to be around her any longer. So he ordered them to inform him of any changes in her state and headed for Jim's quarters.
"So let's get it straight," the Captain said after McCoy drank a good portion of Jim's whiskey and told him everything, "The woman that is currently enjoying the comfort of my ship was apparently tortured, has a strange reaction to almost any medicine you are giving to her, doesn't have the necessary ID for the Federation, and we don't even know her name?"
"You've got it right."
"Well, fuck."
"Couldn't put it better myself."
McCoy sighed and voiced the thought that was extremely logical and at the same time equally unappealing, "We should have left her to the Tari medics."
"After seeing you two making out in front of my entire senior crew? No way! I couldn't take her away from you," Jim smirked.
McCoy huffed.
"I was drunk."
"Not that drunk. I know your limits and you were definitely not hitting them today. You like her, just admit it."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do."
McCoy just scowled back and kept drinking. Jim went serious.
"I really don't mind you having an affair, you know. It's gonna be good for you. But I'd prefer to know her full name, at least."
"Tell me about it."
Jim sighed.
"Just keep an eye on her, okay? We don't know who she is, maybe she's some lunatic terrorist," his friend tried to joke.
McCoy only shook his head.
"I know, Jim, I know. But for now, she isn't a threat. She almost died from fever, damnit. She isn't going anywhere anytime soon."
"She is staying, then," Jim concluded. "We'll question her, when she wakes up, and send her back to the planet if she's in good shape to go back."
At the thought of parting ways with the girl, something tightened inside him. But McCoy only nodded and drank his whiskey again.
A riot broke out at Tari the next morning. The planet didn't belong to the Federation and didn't intend to do it, so the Enterprise's crew could do nothing, especially when Tari's president made it clear that if the Federation was going to interfere with their domestic policy, they would have a war on their hands. Tarians weren't Klingons, but still had pretty advanced weapons to play with, so the Enterprise was forbidden to do anything at all. Jim was freaking out, of course, but even he couldn't afford to violate the Prime Directive again and repeat the shit that they had to go through after Nibiru incident.
Luckily, Jim hadn't come up with something reckless yet, when the riot was brutally suppressed. Everyone on the ship sighed in relief. The only problem was that Tari closed their borders completely and refused to let anyone but Tarians on their surface. Which made it impossible for the Enterprise's crew to get rid of the civilian in their sickbay.
Lee was healing nicely but didn't come to consciousness just yet. McCoy ran all possible tests that could provide any information about her and was currently frowning at the results, not completely believing his eyes.
For starters, the list of her allergies was long, diverse and strangely resembled Jim's similar list. A full body scan revealed that almost every bone in her body was broken at least once in her life. Most of the fracture happened a long time ago, probably in her childhood. Malnutrition, a lack of several vital vitamins and overall exhaustion completed the picture. The girl was a walking medical nightmare, and he blamed himself for not acting earlier. He'd seen the signs. He'd seen it and ignored it, preferring snuggling instead of treating.
And they still didn't know her full name. Even Starfleet's databases couldn't spot any light on her identity. It was rather unsettling because Starfleet had full information about all Federation citizens and if the girl wasn't on the list, that meant she didn't belong to the Federation. At the same time, she was clearly a human, so what the hell was a human girl doing outside the Federation? God only knew.
Jim, wearing a stern look on his face, asked for a DNA test. It was forbidden to carry out without the patient's permission, but McCoy agreed with the measure. DNA would help them to find her relatives, if not her real name.
The test gave them nothing. There was no one in the Federation who could match the girl's genes.
Jim got restless. Spock got worried. Applying as much caution as possible, the Captain searched through other worlds' databases, Klingon and Romulan Empires including. Nothing again. There was no trace of this girl existing anywhere in the known universe. But she did exist, she was breathing and was going to wake up any moment now.
"Alert me the very second she awakes," Jim said, studying their guest warily, "I don't want her to come up with a nice and smooth lie. I'd like to listen to what she has to say when her brains don't function in their full capacity."
McCoy promised to notify his friend as soon as possible and sighed. What had he got himself into?
She regained consciousness on her fifth day here. He'd just finished checking her successfully healing arms' skin when he felt a sudden and very strong grip on his own arm. He suppressed a curse and met his patient's gaze.
Her eyes were wide and full of so much fear and panic that he inwardly cringed. Her disorientation lasted only for a second. She recognized him and the panic disappeared. She let go of his hand and hoarsely said, "Oh, it's just you."
Relief flooded his senses. Despite all the uncertainty of her identity, despite her being a possible danger to them all, he worried about her deeply. Whoever she was, she was still a fragile injured young girl who almost died because of this damn fever he hadn't recognized when he could and because of the allergic reaction he had induced in her.
He didn't let his emotions to be seen, though. Instead, he hit the comm.
"McCoy to bridge."
"Kirk here."
"She's awake, Jim," he informed, noting how tense the girl instantly became.
"On my way," the Captain replied and ended the comm.
"How are you feeling?" McCoy asked, studying her intently.
"Like shit," was a response, "Where am I?"
"The Enterprise."
She stared at him for good thirty seconds.
"Okay," she finally said, "What the hell happened?"
He didn't have a chance to reply as Jim and Spock entered sickbay.
"Lee," greeted the former, "Nice to see you're awake."
"Thanks, Jim," she politely answered, eyeing them with an unreadable expression and then turned back to McCoy.
"So what happened?"
He saw a slight nod from Jim and sighed. So he was the first to ask questions.
"How much of the night we were in the bar do you remember?"
"I didn't forget the best kiss I ever had, don't you worry," she smirked.
Really? He was almost ancient by now, and he still could blush? Damn her.
She took the obvious delight in seeing him embarrassed.
"You guys bought me a drink and we talked," she continued, "Then I decided to dance and left you, but came back later and kissed you. Then kissed you again. And after that, you were telling me about a fever and... I guess it was the time I passed out, right?"
McCoy did his best to push the memories of that night away and went on.
"Okay, your short-term memory is fine," he said, ignoring her question, "Let's see what happened to the long-term one. Your name?"
"Lee."
"Full name, please."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you asking?"
"To check your memory, damnit!"
"My memory is fine."
"Are you a doctor?"
"No."
"So answer the question."
She kept a neutral expression on her face but didn't obey.
"I don't want to. But I assure you, I remember it."
"I guess asking you about your date and place of birth is also out of the question?"
"You're absolutely right."
"This is stupid," Jim cut in. "Just say what we already know so the Doctor could assess your condition!"
"No, you don't."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't know my name because I don't have a fucking ID. I lost it somewhere in this shitty town and now it seems a good thing," she said, rolling her eyes like all this situation seemed to her very annoying. And maybe it was.
"You are aboard the Starfleet ship. You have to answer our question, miss Lee," Spock joined the conversation. Or interrogation?
Whatever it was, Lee didn't like it.
"No, I don't have to," she replied in a very measured, emotionless tone, "Unless I'm a criminal or a suspect. But since I didn't do anything wrong, you should be content with what I'm giving you."
"And how much are you going to give us?" Jim asked with obvious irritation.
"Nothing."
"Oh for the love of God!" McCoy shouted, "I need your medical history! I can't treat you without knowing what else you are allergic to!"
She didn't even flinch at his outburst.
"I'll tell you everything you need to know about my allergies. And it's gonna be the proof that my long-term memory's intact."
All of it had been said in a flat, polite tone with a blank mask on her face. McCoy fought back a strong desire to take her shoulders and shake her until this mask falls down. His inner struggle was interrupted by Jim's next question.
"Maybe you can enlighten us why there is no information about you anywhere in the world?"
"I have no idea what are you talking about."
Well, it clearly didn't work.
"Alright. Let's leave all this name thing aside," Jim tried to approach her from the different side, "Why don't you have an Orion flu vaccine?"
"No idea. Is it what'd happened to me? Orion flu?"
"Yes. You had an Orion flu that is supposed to be prevented by a vaccine which every kid in the Federation has after the age of thirteen. So why don't you have one?"
"No idea."
"Oh my God!" McCoy exclaimed, but Jim ignored it and continued the interrogation.
"Okay, next question. Who tortured you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Good God, girl, just drop this bullshit already!" The Doctor lost his control again.
"Easy, Bones. Look, you had burns all over the body and your nails were ripped off. As far as I know, those are the signs of severe and long torture. So who did this to you?"
"No one."
"So how did you get all these injuries, then?"
"It was an accident."
"What kind of an accident?"
"I don't really want to talk about it."
"Of course you don't," McCoy muttered and Jim shot him a warning look.
"Listen," Lee said, making her face a little bit more earnest than before, "I appreciate what you guys did for me, I really do. You saved my life, I guess, so I thank you. But I really really really don't wanna talk about any of this stuff. Just send me back to Tari so you don't have to deal with me anymore. I feel fine now, I promise. I can go back."
Jim sighed.
"We can't."
"Why's that?"
"Because you are in no condition to be beamed anywhere and because Tari closed their borders. They had a riot on their hands, so they are not ready to host parties for the outsiders just yet. So you are stuck with us until we visit the next port," Jim explained.
Lee stared at him in disbelief.
"And when will it happen?"
"In about two months."
She closed her eyes and murmured "Oh, that's just perfect."
"In the meantime, you should change your mind about not telling us anything. You will have to tell us at least your name, or we'll make you."
She opened her eyes and laughed.
"Oh really? And what would you do? Send me to the brig? Torture me? Give me a truth serum? You're bluffing. Even when I am healthy enough to put me in the brig, you still won't have a right to do it. The Federation law and all that. So no, you won't make me."
"Yes, maybe. But we still can make you stay aboard until you give us a name," Jim said softly.
She grimaced, looking instantly much more concerned. Then she said, "I don't feel right," and closed her eyes, breathing loudly.
McCoy was immediately by her side, checking her pulse and scanning through her vitals.
"Jim, we've exhausted her," he said, frowning at the data. It wasn't good.
"She'll live," Jim snorted.
Her heart rate dropped even more.
"I wanna sleep," she muttered and was out in an instant.
McCoy double-checked her stats to be sure that she was, in fact, sleeping, not fainting, and looked at Jim.
"Let's talk in your office," the Captain offered.
McCoy took one last glance at her and nodded. The trio marched to his office.
When the door slid shut, Jim confidently stated, "She is lying. Every single word from her is a lie. And the way she controls herself makes me seriously worried."
"Miss Lee indeed possesses a remarkable capability of administrating her organism's reactions during the interrogation," Spock agreed, "Her heart rate was not alerted all the time we were talking which is quite unnatural. Judging by her situation, at least some fluctuations were expected. And as the fluctuations were not present, it follows that miss Lee was constantly controlling all her senses."
"Or she is just a lying bitch who lied so many times before that her pulse doesn't even register the fact of lying anymore," Jim suggested.
McCoy inwardly cringed at his friend's characterization of his patient but didn't let his discontent be shown.
"So what are we doing now?" he asked instead.
Jim sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"Treat her, I guess, what else can we do? Maybe she's just afraid of something. Try to reassure her that we won't harm her. Listen to everything she's saying - she might let something slip. And I want to know about her condition's progress here. What she's doing, how she's responding to your treatment, everything. Submit the report every day. And let's hope that she's just a stubborn bitch, not a criminal."
McCoy promised to do that, and the Captain and the First Officer left.
Jim's request wasn't good. It meant that his friend had a bad feeling about their guest, and when Jim had a bad feeling, it usually was the first sign of a disaster coming their way.