A/N: I promised I would finish this and voila! It is finally done! Why it took me 2 years for a collection of one-shots I'll never understand, but thank you to everyone who stuck it out this far with me anyway. I hope I've done these last 3 chapters justice, and I wanted to end on a positive note, too (especially after that last chapter).

Thank you for your patience, and I hope you all enjoy this last little chapter. This is set at the beginning of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Until next time!

Zeal

"Alright, let me see the new name."

Chapel grinned at him and flashed her badge. It was a different color, now, and the glossy Dr. Christine Chapel, M.D. sparkled in the ship's medbay lighting. McCoy whistled.

"Look at that, I always knew you had it in you! Most overqualified nurse I ever had the privilege of serving with."

Cheekily, she stowed the badge and thumped his shoulder. "And I'll be the most overqualified doctor you'll have ever served with, as well. You haven't been out of the loop for too long, have you?" She looked over his bearded get-up. "I don't have to refresh your memory on aquidae oxidation levels?"

"No, only the dress protocol," he smiled. "And that was one time!"

She laughed and finally hugged him. He returned it easily; he had missed working alongside her. 10 years was a long time and so much had changed and yet, so little. There wasn't a speck of blue anywhere to be seen in Sickbay, and everyone's uniforms seemed so bland: grey, white and beige were a far cry from the bold colors he was used to dealing with. The ship felt bigger and somehow shinier, too. He was right: everything in Sickbay was rearranged. Damn engineers.

But damn if Jim really hadn't gotten the old crew back together. He knew Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov were on the bridge. Scotty had never left the sweet hum of the Enterprise's engines. Jim had mentioned of welcomed surprises in Sickbay but though McCoy knew Chapel had gotten her M.D. he hadn't known she would be right here. They were an unbeatable team, and her presence relaxed him more than anything else. Whatever this mission involved, they could handle it.

They pulled apart and she rubbed his sleeve. "So what brings you back?" she asked. "I thought they would have to, quote, 'drag me kicking and screaming back into service'."

"And I'm a man of my word," he answered proudly. "I threw quite a fuss all the way from Brunswick to the transporter room. But…" he trailed off, looking around their staff.

428 lives in their hands. Some 'thing' out beyond the solar system. He was too old for new adventures. But he never forgot the draw to do what he did in the first place.

They were here to preserve life. Where there was a threat to life, he must answer. His weapons were tools for healing and compassion for even the most dispassionate. If he couldn't make a difference in the big scheme of things, then he could at least make a difference for one individual. Everyone deserved a second chance, he believed this wholeheartedly.

He was here to help. And he couldn't help that trait, not now, not ever.

Chapel laid a hand on his arm, understanding his overwhelmed silence. "I get it."

There were no more doubts, no anxious whispers as they prepped Sickbay for whatever they would soon encounter. He met the rest of the staff and saw the same determined gleam in their eyes as they worked. The honesty, the motivation, the refusal to give into the odds were all reflected back at him. Hearts and souls poured into what they were doing, joy and zeal all carefully bubbling under scientific professionalism. It warmed his heart to the point of aching. He didn't bother to duck his head from Chapel to keep her from noticing the tears pricking his eyes. She had to be feeling the same way.

They were all here to help. And that made everything else worthwhile.