Author's Note: I apologize for the wait- again! I've been going through a difficult time, dealing with a few personal issues, but a friend, missBAMF, came alongside to spur me on, encourage me with this story, and beta this chapter. Honestly, without her, this update would NOT be happening. I can never thank her enough. I am so thankful for her friendship, and the thoughtful and thought-provoking edits were just icing on the cake.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! (There are a few choice words in the second scene.) I'm not sure when my next update will be, but as always, I'll say 'two weeks.' :) I'll give it my best shot. I appreciate all of you out there, reading, reviewing...even lurking. It's amazing to me that you're here, really, and you are all very inspiring, too. :) Thank you!

oOo

And If I Stand Next To You

Chapter Four

(i will go where you lead)

oOo

McCoy darted through the bathroom door, unease gnawing in his stomach as he left Jim behind. He suspected that what first looked to be a step forward in their friendship had actually been two steps back.

His mother was right, which wasn't anything new. McCoy needed to talk with Jim, things were closing in around them, and the interruption by Jojo proved it. He could no more ignore this than he could ignore Jim's long road to recovery.

The moment had unfolded before his very eyes once Jim was in the bath, both vulnerable and anxious. It'd been McCoy's chance, and he'd taken it. One look into those hopeful blue eyes as wide as the sky had told McCoy that Jim desperately needed his friend, not the doctor. Restoration had been at arm's reach. But of course the moment had to vanish into thin air.

The blur of purple charging his way halted all thoughts on the matter, Jim taking a temporary back seat.

"Daddy, daddy!"

"Woah there, darlin'," McCoy caught his daughter in his arms just three meters shy of the bathroom door and what could've been a disaster. She giggled in his embrace.

McCoy's mother stood behind Jojo, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry," she said, eyes beseeching. "I couldn't contain her excitement."

"No harm done," he said, something that of course wasn't true at all, but he wouldn't place any blame on Jojo or his mother for the interruption. Such was life here, with the daughter that he loved and the man he also loved just as much. McCoy expected and planned for it to be this way. Somehow he'd manage. Besides, he'd be even more distracted if Jim had been admitted to SFG instead of here, resting in his mother's Georgian home.

"Marz Mungle Gemph?" Jojo garbled into the crook of his neck.

If McCoy wasn't so upset with himself for constantly delaying his talk with Jim, he would've smiled. It wasn't too hard to figure out who was on the little sprite's mind. Jim wasn't far from his thoughts again either, and the brown haired child tightly hugging him tightly was the most perfect thing he could hold onto.

McCoy kissed the top of Jojo's head. He let his daughter out of his embrace but kept a fierce grip on her hands. Nora stepped around them and quietly shut the bathroom door to give Jim privacy. McCoy had been so busy the past seven weeks that to survive his heartache, he'd hardly let himself think of how much he missed his own child. Now that she was here, right in front of him, it was all he could do not to crush her into his arms and hold her tightly for the rest of the day.

Because if he was being honest with himself, McCoy had always been pulled by Jim. Lately, it'd turned into an all-out game of tug-of-war, his concern for Jim overshadowing everything.

"Do you remember what I told you?" he asked Jojo.

"That he's still sick, like he was when he was in the hospital," she whispered, eyes worriedly darting behind his shoulder to the door of the bathroom.

"Yes," McCoy said, nodding. "And right now, he's taking a bath."

"Can't I just see him, though?" Jojo whined innocently.

"Not yet, darlin'. He needs some time alone," he said. Of course, he really wasn't sure that it was wise for Jim to be alone, but he thought that Jim would prefer it after the interruption.

"He's..." Jojo started and glanced around the room, wrinkling her nose. "He smells sick."

If Jocelyn had said the same thing, he would've called her condescending, but hearing it from Jojo, McCoy had to agree. He looked around the room, too, noticing right away that Jim's bed had been stripped bare and his nightstand cleared of all items. His mother, he decided with relief.

The sour smell of sickness filled the room, although when he sniffed the air for a second time, a hint of lemon joined it. Knowing his mother however, she'd continue cleaning the room until it was completely refreshed. There seemed to be so little that they could do for Jim to ease his pain and discomfort other than mild pain relievers. Having a clean room was the least they could do for the guy.

The thought sobered him as he looked at his daughter. "That's because he is very sick. We have to be careful."

"Nana made me use the sonic bacteria zapper thing that that you brought from the hospital," Jojo said, announcing her good deed proudly. "So it would get all the germs off my body before I see Uncle Jim. And I changed my clothes. And she made me stand real still as she checked me with your tricorder."

Thankful that his mother was so efficient in her duties, McCoy half-smiled—

"Mommy watched the entire time," Jojo added.

And then he didn't.

McCoy gritted his teeth instead at the mention of his ex, blood boiling once again. He stared up at his mother.

"She left right afterwards, Leonard," Nora explained quietly, interpreting his stare with ease. "I told her everything was under control, but she insisted on waiting until she knew for herself that Joanna had nothing that could be given to her beloved Uncle Jim," Nora went on, a sour expression on her face that didn't match her tone.

In other words, Jocelyn wanted to collect more clues of Jim and his condition in order to formulate her own hypothesis about McCoy's negligence. She'd done the same thing before she'd taken Jojo completely away in the divorce years ago, and then she'd blown things out of proportion. He'd never stood a chance. It was a small miracle that he'd regained any parental rights at all. Becoming a respected cadet at the Academy and then a well-known CMO overnight after the Narada attacks had changed things again.

"Mommy must be worried," Jojo chattered with an endless amount of energy. McCoy took her by the hand, but it was Jojo who led them out of Jim's bedroom. "She asks me after I talk to you about everything you say about Uncle Jim, Daddy. She tells me that Uncle Jim needs you all the time, and that's why you...would... wouldn't..."

McCoy didn't know what to think when his small chatterbox stuttered to a complete stop mid-sentence.

"I couldn't what, Jojo?" he asked very carefully, as if he didn't know where this was going, as if seeing the emotions play on his daughter's face weren't utterly heartbreaking.

Jojo stopped mid stride, lower lip quivering as she stared up at McCoy, eyes filling with tears that he knew were his fault. When she didn't voice a reply, he figured he had her answer—his constant absence.

"Why don't you take Jojo out to the living room, Len," Nora suggested, coming up behind them, "and in a little bit, after I help the captain, I'll make pancakes."

McCoy smiled at her. "Thank you," he murmured.

He then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and turned back to Jojo, who hadn't reacted at all to Nora's announcement of pancakes like she usually would've. Something had to be very wrong to affect her like this.

Feeling dread, he walked hand-in-hand with his daughter toward the door. McCoy stopped once they reached the hallway, and almost didn't notice that his mother shut the door behind them. Jojo looked down miserably at her feet. McCoy glanced down, too.

"Jojo," he said, getting down on one knee. Jojo pulled her gaze upward, her watery eyes pulling at his heart. "I am so sorry, sweetheart..." he whispered, voice cracking.

Tears trailed down his daughter's cheeks like a dam breaking loose. His stomach clenched until it felt like a knife stabbing him. He hated to see his daughter cry.

"I needed you, Daddy," Jojo hiccupped, small hand fisting while the other wiped at her cheeks. "Mommy said sh...she..."

Guilt coursed through McCoy as his daughter teetered forward and fell apart in his arms, soaking his shoulder with her tears. He embraced her, kissed her head, and rubbed her back in consolation, but nothing could take away her pain or his own guilt over letting her down. "I know, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to come," he managed, trying to stay strong.

"She said you wou...wouldn't c-c-c...come," Jojo stuttered, crying, shoulders shaking almost uncontrollably.

McCoy wanted to sigh. Good Lord. What did Joce think she was doing pitting his own daughter against him? How was that going to help anything?

"Jojo, darlin'. I couldn't come," he corrected her, desperate for her to believe him.

"I kn...know. What Mommy said...it wasn't true, Daddy, be...c-c-c...cause..." she leaned into him, practically carving herself into his chest. "Be...c-c-c..."

"Shh," he soothed, all the while warning bells sounding in his head. What else was Joce poisoning her with? "You don't have to tell me."

He'd find out on his own, somehow. He'd been playing fair all this time, but maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was time to fight fire with fire.

Jojo shook her head. Another day, he might have smiled. She was plenty stubborn, like both of her parents, but not today.

"I do. Because Uncle J..Jim needed you m-m-m...more than me...and that's why...you couldn't c...come to my p...play," she cried.

He drew a complete blank, eyebrows elevating. Her play?

"I didn't m-y...mind, Daddy, 'cuz I lo...love Uncle Jim."

What play? McCoy thought with wide eyes, weeding through hours and hours of memories. It was a jumbled mix of caring for Jim or facing the Admiralty for his actions, which had ultimately broken dozens of laws and oaths for which he'd been given a slap on the wrist.

"Oh, baby girl," McCoy murmured, the ache in his heart almost too much.

And then he remembered. Opening night had been the very day Jim's first lung infection had set in, which had placed Jim's health in more jeopardy than it had been in since his death.

Still, it didn't diminish the truth. No matter how you looked at it, even if Jocelyn hadn't said those things to Jojo, he'd missed his daughter's play. He'd been on Earth and not on a mission in space, and he still hadn't come.

Could he even be a more disappointing father?

McCoy didn't even know where to begin. How could he fix this? "I'm sorry, Jojo. If I can make it up— "

"No...you can't," she sniffled but there was a determination behind her words. "I'm n-n-n...never gonna b...be in a play again."

"Don't say that, Jojo," he said softly but firmly. He hoped to God that Jojo hadn't sworn off plays because of him. "There'll be more plays, and other times when I can come. And... it's okay to be upset— "

"I'm not m...mad, Daddy, not like Mommy," Jojo interrupted. "I could never be mad at you. I just w-w-w...want Uncle Jim to be better."

McCoy froze, a little shocked that what he'd thought held no truth. His daughter wasn't upset with him. She wasn't upset, although she had every right to be. He wouldn't fault her for it if she was, but he'd immediately point his finger at her vengeful mother, the woman behind it.

"So do I, baby. So do I," he finally whispered into her ear. He rocked her back and forth, waiting for the hurt and sadness to ebb away so that they could both be strong for a very sick man in the other room who meant the world to the both of them.

Compared to his ex-wife, Jojo didn't have a selfish bone in her body. McCoy realized that as a father, he must have done something right. He squeezed her tighter, affection coursing through him. He didn't realize his own strength in light of it.

"Daddy," she whined.

"Sorry, sunshine," McCoy said, loosening his hold. He rubbed more circles into her back. "I just can't get enough of ya."

"Will h...he?" Jojo started, and gave a shuddering breath. She sank deeper into his embrace and relaxed into his arms like she used to do when she was half this size, wholly trusting in him. He held her and walked towards the living room, amazed. She'd grown so much since he last saw her, but she was still tiny enough that carrying her wasn't awkward for either of them. "Will he get better, Daddy?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "It will take some time and more treatments, but your Uncle Jim will get better."

"As long as he has you," she whispered.

"Yeah, as long as he has me," McCoy said, knowing he better make damn sure that Jim knew for himself that McCoy wasn't going anywhere.

"And I...I don't mind sharing," Jojo added in a bashful voice.

He paused beside the couch. "Thank you, Jojo," he said, and set her down. He planted a kiss on her forehead before straightening up.

"For what?" she asked, scrambling onto the couch and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I didn't do nothin'."

He had the urge to correct her, but simply smiled at her instead. "For being a sweet girl who cares about other people," he said softly, warmed at the way she grinned in return. "Now, I need your help."

"Is it for Uncle Jim?"

McCoy nodded. "It is, sweetheart. You see, he needs a spot where he can be comfortable for a few hours, just to hang out with us for awhile."

"With us?" Jojo asked, eyes big and hopeful.

"Yeah," he smiled warmly. "I think he wants to see you just as bad as you want to see him, and I think that chair over in the corner by the best window of the house will be perfect. But...he's going to need a pillow and blanket."

"Cuz he'll be cold?" she said in barely contained excitement.

McCoy smiled again, this time from ear to ear. "Yeah, sweety, because he'll get cold."

"I know where we can find them! Nana already told me," she boomed excitedly and shot to her feet, using her small hands to wipe the remnants of her tears from her eyes.

"If you get those for me, I'll work on getting him something to eat, water, and a footstool," McCoy said, swelling with pride at Jojo's enthusiasm, but also deflating a little, because Jim used to have that same enthusiasm. Maybe not as childish, but certainly childlike. Jim used to look at the world like it was some magical place, even at the worst of times. "When I'm done getting things ready for Jim, we can spend some time together right on this couch and you can tell us both all about your play. I imagine we'll get to eat those pancakes that your grandmother promised us, too."

She blinked up at him.

"If you don't want them, I'm sure I can eat your share," he teased with a small smile.

"Daddy, no," she said, stomping her foot, lips forming a pout.

HIs brows shot up in surprise. "I don't know…I'm pretty hungry…" he added and rubbed his belly, mirth filling him.

"No!" she yelled and stuck out her chin, followed by her tongue. "I'd only share mine with Uncle Jim. I'm not sharing with you. You can't make me," she finished and propped her hands on her hips, looking for a moment like her mother whenever she was upset.

McCoy was momentarily speechless. This erratic behavior was shocking, to say the least. "Jojo, that is a disrespectful way to speak to your father," he said, mouth dipping downward.

"He's too skinny," she interjected loudly.

"What?"

"I'm not gonna! He's too skinny!"

"Jojo," he said, voice echoing through the room.

Her eyes snapped upwards. He held her gaze with a stern look. "Not only are you disrespecting me, but your words are insensitive and could hurt Jim's feelings," he said, more in a warning voice than anything.

Jojo's expression, once defiant, flooded with guilt. "But...mommy says it."

Jocelyn should be counting her lucky stars that McCoy considered himself to be a decent man. "It doesn't matter if your mother says it, it isn't polite," he said firmly.

Jojo looked down and shuffled her feet. She looked nervous. "I'm sorry, daddy. I just..." she swallowed. "He's skinny... and weak for a captain. I heard mommy say so."

If his daughter hadn't been in front of him, he would have punched the damn wall. Of course Joce had said that.

He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Darlin', we are all worried about your Uncle Jim, but it can't be an excuse to speak rudely to anyone," he said, looking her straight in the eye. "And he is anything but weak."

He bit his tongue before he could say more. Captain Kirk realigned the warp core while his body failed. Captain Kirk was living after dying. There wasn't anything weak about that. There wasn't anything weak about knowingly going to your death to save the people around you.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she whispered, swallowing again.

McCoy's eyes softened. Most of this wasn't Jojo's fault, though he didn't like the attitude she was portraying. "I know, darlin', but I don't want to hear that again."

"I heard Nana grumble under her breath, like you do," Jojo mumbled, face reddening a little. "So I thought... I thought...that it must be real important that Uncle Jim eats."

He sighed. "You're right about that, but I'm not too sure he'd be able to eat one pancake, let alone yours, too."

"But...we can try, can't we?" she implored with wide eyes. "Uncle Jim doesn't give up, right? And he listens to you, Daddy."

He drew a deep breath. "Sweetheart, right now I can't push your Uncle Jim too much. He's..." He hesitated, searching for the right word. "Fragile."

"Ya mean he'll break?" Jojo asked worriedly.

"No..." McCoy scratched his chin. Maybe that wasn't quite the word he wanted to use. "He's... "

Stubborn. Vulnerable. Strong. Bull-headed and more sensitive than people really knew.

"We just…need to be gentle," he settled on.

"Okay," Jojo said, scrunching her face up a bit. "Then mommy better not come help."

He pulled back his scowl at the last second. "Why do ya say that'?"

"She slammed Nana's door when she left, and then she made the hovercar door slam, too. The windows moved," Jojo said, leaning forward like it was a secret. "I should know. I made sure to watch."

"Well, being that Uncle Jim needs us to be careful with him, you may be right. Your mother may not be able to help him, but..." McCoy tweaked her nose, relishing her innocent smile. "You and I? We are. So, how about you find that blanket and pillow. I'm sure your Nana is moving your Uncle Jim right along."

oOo

Jim stood on the rug by the bathtub, now dry and wrapped in the most luxurious towel he'd ever had. He stared at the water swirling its way down the drain, almost numb, almost like he was being pulled straight down with it. How could he have been so stupid as to ask Bones to stay, pulling him away from his daughter? Bones didn't need another distraction. He was already a patient who needed full-time care. What was more distracting than that?

"James, why don't you take a seat for a moment," Nora called to him softly from the bedroom.

"I...thank you, but...I'm fine," he answered, voice breaking into a hoarse mess of syllables. He knew he shouldn't have tried to speak, despite the steam and whatever Nora had sprayed that somewhat soothed his throat. He didn't know exactly why he'd said "no" to sitting down in the first place, only that he wanted to get settled into the next place as soon as possible.

Sitting down would delay getting back to his bedroom, getting a hold of his comm, and ultimately, getting a hold of Spock. Jim couldn't wait because Bones' problem was more than likely getting worse every second.

Jim inwardly groaned at remembering that he didn't have a voice. How was he going to use his comm? What he really needed was his PADD to properly communicate with Spock, but asking Bones for that was an entirely different story.

Nora entered the bathroom again and didn't seem bothered that he'd refused. With a smile, she bought the slippers over and set them right beside his feet on the rug. "I'm sorry for the little interruption a while ago," Nora apologized, looking at him carefully. "Jojo arrived much earlier than we expected."

Of course she had. Jocelyn wouldn't pass up the perfect opportunity to undermine Bones and catch him off guard.

Jim slid his feet into the slippers, one by one, holding on to Nora's arm as he did so. He felt shame for being so helpless, for not even being able to put on his own shoes.

"It's...not a..." Jim said, voice finally going out on the word, 'problem'.

Nora looked at him with a hint of disbelief. "I've changed your bedding, but I made a spot for you in the living room. I think we'll try that first, James, if it's alright with you."

It sounded nice, but just thinking about the long journey from the bathroom to getting dressed, and finally, to getting to the room itself, was tiring in itself. Every movement he made took energy he wasn't sure he had today—energy he couldn't conceive of ever getting back again.

"It's early yet, so I don't think Jojo or Leonard will pass up my pancakes," she continued, a smile playing on her lips.

Pancakes. Jim's stomach rumbled as if on cue. He realized how hungry he was.

Nora smiled. "You're more than welcome to have some, dear."

Jim had managed broth earlier. As ambitious as it was, maybe he could try a small plate of Nora's famous pancakes. He began to nod, but stopped when a sickly warmth gathered between his legs against the towel he was holding around his body.

The room shrunk around Jim as an excess of fluid ran down his thighs, his heart rate beginning to skyrocket.

This couldn't be happening. He'd just stepped out of the bath, out of the damn tub. He'd stepped out clean. He'd been clean—and now he was not.

Jim began to panic. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. He was a captain, wasn't he? He made decisions all the time, important decisions, but this was demoralizing. It was humiliating and he...he didn't know...he didn't understand why this was still happening. Shouldn't he be able to manage the new day with a little more independence than this? Couldn't he go a damn day without shaming himself?

Jim tried to come up with a reasonable excuse for Nora to leave him alone while he finished up. If he could just convince her that he could get his robe by himself, that it was a task he could manage all on his own as well as the short walk over to the bed, maybe she wouldn't notice.

Because, if she noticed, she'd have to tell Bones.

Nora looked at him quizzically. She may have expected him to say something, but the lump forming in his throat and all the heat of his body rushing to his face kept him from doing so. He was basically helpless, and not only that, but covered in his own urine. Bones was his friend, but lately more his doctor, so Jim couldn't help but dread Bones learning what Jim did.

Wildly, Jim considered trying to hide. Could he hide under his bedcovers...forever? Was that even possible?

Spock would call him illogical. Frank would call him a stupid little shit.

"Captain, I think this was a little too much for you," Nora said gently, not at all drawing attention to the wetness on his legs. In fact, Nora didn't look like she was bothered by it at all.

But Jim agreed with what she said. He had always been a fuck up, and this proved that he still was. Bones had also dashed away. Dying really hadn't changed a thing. In fact, it'd made everything worse.

But, maybe that wasn't true, after all. Pike wasn't here. Jim didn't quite know where he belonged. Everything had changed.

Jim would be mortified except he felt odd. His throat burned like he was about to cry, but no tears had come. It was wrong to cry. All wrong. He'd had enough of that.

He felt the towel slipping from his fingers but managed to clutch it at the end before it dropped to the floor. He refused to look down at himself, but he couldn't even manage to acknowledge Nora.

"No?" she asked, inspecting him carefully. "James, tell me what's wrong."

His eyes must have given him away or maybe it was the towel almost falling. Whatever it was, Jim didn't want to say anything.

"Okay," Nora said, her tone encouraging. "This means that Leonard was correct in thinking that we will need to take it slow today, at least for a little while."

He still refused to look as she cleaned him and removed his slippers, giving him a new pair. Jim didn't look down as Nora led him to the bed, and it was a miracle he didn't trip over his own feet. He didn't want to think that she must have anticipated and then planned for this, but he did.

Everything was laid out. She'd been prepared, and so he did what he was supposed to do. He was still an obedient patient, after all, but it wasn't long before the tears welled up behind his eyes.

Not wanting to lose it in front of Nora, again, he made himself forget where he was. He took his mind to a place he used years ago, slipping into it like it had only been yesterday.

His mother had once taken him to this semi-inhabited planet before his young life had shattered to pieces, even more than it already had. It'd been the one time they'd all gone on a vacation. Jim, Sam, and Winona. Like a fucking family. It was laughable now really, but there they'd been, on this planet where the skies were unbelievably blue, the palm trees would bend in the breeze, and the sandy white beaches provided all the entertainment they needed.

Jim could almost feel the sand under his feet, the magic of the place a happy memory. The water had always been the perfect temperature to jump right in, from morning until night. Sam used to use his surfboard on the smaller waves, and Jim recalled wanting to try, begging Winona with all he'd had, but his mother had held him back. He was too little, she'd said, and too young. For an hour while he struggled, Winona's arms wrapped around his bare chest because he'd been wearing only his wet swimming trunks, he recalled crying. Those hands had provided him comfort maybe only that one time in his entire life.

But to Jim, those warm hands would be around him for forever.

As he imagined the scent of beach and sun, he wondered if any good thing he had, like Bones' friendship, was going to be like his mother's hands—a distant memory with far more attached to it than there really was, a memory that would never really provide him the comfort that he'd thought it would.

A shallow, deceiving memory that Jim allowed himself to go on believing anyway.

"Captain," a firm, feminine voice stated, nudging him back to reality.

He had no voice left, and his body—his sacrifice—demanded that he remain dependent, no matter how hard his mind told him not to. With Nora's hand guiding him, he lifted himself to a seated position on the bed, squirming as he adjusted to the catheter for a second time. He managed to put on the shirt that Nora handed him all by himself, but the loose fitting pants were a different story.

"Leonard or I will check this for you later on this morning," Nora said quietly, indicating to the bag attached to Jim's leg, which was also attached to the tubing curling around his thigh. "You'll be fine walking and sitting, Jim, so don't think that this changes that."

Jim rubbed a bit of sleep from the corner of his eye and nodded. What else could he do, rant? Rail at everyone? Behave as bitchy as Jocelyn? He had nothing. Nothing.

Nora finished helping him get ready, something in her eyes saying she was worried about him. Jim wondered if maybe he'd been out of it longer than he'd thought.

"They're waiting for you," she murmured.

It was meant as encouragement to help him stand and move, but Jim closed his eyes, breathing in as slowly as possible to delay the inevitable. How the hell was he even supposed to act when he saw Bones and Jojo while being this helpless. Why the hell did it even matter? He'd always been comfortable around Bones. Why did Bones acting like a doctor, acting distant, affect him so much?

It was this. It was living...after dying. Nora had been right - Jim was trying to find where he fit in. The problem was, he was failing miserably.

Jim made a small noise at the back of his throat.

Unfortunately, Nora noticed. "Jim, is there something... else I need to do for you," Nora hesitated, "or, is there something I did..."

His eyes shot open. The last thing he wanted to do was make things difficult for Bones' mom.

Jim licked his dry lips and shook his head several times.

"Alright, James," she said, a hint of disbelief in her eyes. "I'll be right beside you."

Jim brought himself to his feet, the loose-limbed feeling he'd felt first thing this morning having dissipated. He felt a surge of happiness. That meant he was stronger today. Maybe still dependent, his body forcing him to rely on injections, contraptions, and his doctor, but he was stronger.

His hands felt clammy and cold as soon the door to the hallway opened, and he could literally feel his knees knocking together later as he stood in the doorway of the living room. Sure enough, as Jim blinked and looked around, feeling small in the McCoys' world, he saw Bones and Jojo waiting for him on the other side of the room. Somehow, he managed to look only at Jojo. She beamed at him. He tried to smile back. That he failed didn't matter. The girl went straight for him.

"Jojo," Bones called out crisply.

Jim tensed, more from the sharp tone of Bones' voice than the fact that the seven year old was about to collide with him. Jojo widened her eyes, barely stopping herself in time. She curled her hands into fists. So did Jim.

"You really are ski—" she began.

"Jojo!" Bones practically shouted, cutting her off.

Jim frowned, not understanding why Bones had yelled, or why Jojo's cheeks had suddenly become flushed.

"Sorry," Jojo breathed out, "Uncle Jim, can I touch you?"

Jim blinked at the odd question, but before he could even nod, Jojo wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You're here," the small girl said, affection in her voice.

Jim felt her eyes on him and looked down at her. Distraction or not, he was here. He lifted his hand and ran the back of it across her wet cheek, wiping away her tears.

"I couldn't wait to see you," she whispered. "Me and my daddy and Nana will take care of you."

He'd comforted her plenty of times before when she'd been scared or hurt, but this time, things were reversed. Jim wasn't surprised when his heart squeezed some of the breath from him. It was…different being on this side of things.

"Jojo, sweetheart," Nora said softly, probably noticing the way he'd wavered on his feet. "Let James get to his chair, now."

"Okay," Jojo said in a small voice.

She pulled away from Jim, and his arm fell to his side, but other than that, he didn't budge. Her innocence imprinted in his mind, making things click as he stared at her.

If he hadn't done what he'd had to do for his ship and crew, Jojo would not have her father. She'd have Jocelyn, a woman whose bitterness seemed never-ending, no matter what happiness she had in front of her. Jojo would have Nora, a woman whose heart may have shattered when her son left this life, like her husband had a decade prior.

His life was a small price to pay compared to that, wasn't it?

Jim regained just enough of his courage to walk forward. Like some stately procession, every eye was upon him as he made for the spot they'd prepared. It was a much different chair than the one he claimed on the Enterprise, he wouldn't be giving orders from it. Far from it, actually, but it still seemed made just for him.

Tucked into a corner where he could be miserable and quietly out of the way, Bones standing beside it like he would've on the bridge, was the chair. Jim swallowed and tried not to look at Bones while he thought about it. Nora kept a hand on Jojo's shoulders, restraining her so they remained behind as he walked. Some of his tension fell away when he finally made it there on his own. He paused, waiting for Bones to tell him what to do. When he met Bones' gaze, his eyes widened involuntarily like they seemed to always do whenever he was nervous.

"This chair is good for anything, Jim. Sleeping, too," Bones explained, his voice now sweet to Jim's ears, the Georgian accent strong and vibrant.

Jim almost smiled in relief. The bite in Bones' voice was gone. He wondered if the doctor realized for himself that his accent really came out when he was home.

"It will recline if you'd rather stay out here instead of going back to the bedroom when you're tired."

But as Bones helped Jim situate himself in the chair, he fell into a slight daze. Bones' expression resembled his sickbay look, the one that was mostly doctor and almost unapproachable.

Maybe it was for the best.

Bones leaned over and fixed Jim's pillow behind his back. Jim exhaled a shaky breath, struck by the steady hands efficiently spreading a blanket over him. Doctor.

Jim closed his eyes and sucked in another long breath as the same hands brushed up against his shoulder, Bones adjusting the pillow for a second time. Friend.

Jim's fingers curled around the blanket, muscles relaxing against the pillow. It was uncomfortable for a moment, but that soon passed. When the scent of a pleasant aftershave faded, he realized that Bones had backed away.

Jim told himself that, for now, while he was recuperating, while things were precarious with Jojo, it was for the best that Bones was just his doctor, not his friend. For Bones' sake, to get rid of at least one distraction, it was for the best.

"I don't want you to feel stuck here, Jim, but I don't think you'll want to move around much today," Bones murmured. "You may later, when things get a little more bearable. I'll give you a mild pain reliever in a sec. You didn't have therapy yesterday, and you're not in a position to have it today, either. Unfortunately, your body is going to feel stiffer than you've been used to the next time you get up."

Sadly, Jim didn't mind staying right where he was at. This chair may be his only anchor to get through the next few days.

"Daddy," Jojo whispered. "Ya forgot something."

Jim opened his eyes and rolled his head toward her.

"Nana's pancakes," she said in a hushed voice. "Can we ask Uncle Jim if he wants one now?"

"Oh," Bones blinked. "Right."

Jim's lips twitched. Jojo looked earnestly back and forth between them.

Bones cleared his throat. "Jim, Jojo is a bit worried that you're going to...miss out. I'm sure you heard what she said, so I won't pester you and ask twice."

Jim could probably manage to eat one. He held up his index finger.

"One?" Bones asked.

Jim nodded. Jojo lit up. So did Bones.

"Good," Bones said, his face showing obvious relief.

He tamped down the guilt that he was worrying Bones. One pancake really meant that much to Bones? Hell, maybe he should try to eat a full stack.

"I know you asked for your comm, but it'd be impossible for you to use it, at least for today," Bones said, then hesitated as he pulled a device out from a bag beside the chair. "Will this do?"

It wasn't Jim's PADD, but a bigger one. The screen was larger, and so was the keyboard.

"Your voice won't be gone forever, and more than likely will be back in a day or two," Bones explained. "But, I figured you wanted to at least talk to Spock soon and maybe a few others. You'll be able to type and they'll be able to see you, their esteemed captain. The best of both worlds."

Jim arched a brow.

Bones scowled. "Of course they want to see you, ya moron. Esteemed or not, you're their captain and friend."

As Bones handed Jim the device, Nora ushered Jojo back to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Jojo would be a good helper. Jim knew, because he liked helping Nora and Jojo in the kitchen. His fingers dug into the edges of the PADD, thinking of the mess they'd made the last time, homemade cookie dough in their hair and on their faces. Bones had complained that Jim was worse than a kid, and Bones was right. Jim really was worse than a kid.

"Jim," Bones said.

After a few seconds he pulled himself out of the fog he was in and looked up. The doctor's brows were knitted together, indicating that he was either focused or worried—or both.

What, Jim mouthed.

"There's something I want to show you, but I need to see the device for a second." Bones drew a breath. "If that's alright."

Bones gripped the device now, but so did Jim and he might have even glared at Bones a little. This was his one and only way to connect to the outside world. Like hell he was letting go.

Bones' eyes softened. "Jimbo, I'll give it back," Bones said. Jim bit his lip, not convinced. "I promise," Bones added.

Jim pried his fingers off the device, and true to his word, Bones didn't keep it for long. Bones set up a screen and wordlessly handed it back to him. A little uneasy, Jim looked down at the device in his hand. The world suddenly stopped spinning as soon as he saw the holo.

Three faces stared back at him. Three happy, contented faces of people he recognized. They were in front of a house, sitting on the front steps. Two were in uniform.

"Lieutenant Lynette Carter and her husband, Ensign Patrick Carter," Bones announced. "Lynette is one of your crewmembers, as you know. Engineering. That's their only child, a boy, who just turned six. Had a birthday last week."

Jim traced the child's face with his finger. Six years old. Six. Not much younger than Joanna.

"Lynette stopped by at Starfleet General several days ago and told me that all he wanted was a starship shaped cake." Bones gave a short laugh. "With the Enterprise written on top instead of his own name, and also...yours."

Jim rapidly blinked his eyes, more emotion than he cared for swelling in his chest. He wanted Bones to stop talking—to just fucking stop—so he didn't have to experience the pain.

But, the doctor had a different idea. "Because the Enterprise brought his mother safely back home," Bones added in a quiet voice. "She told me that he wants a picture with you someday, when you're back on your feet."

A tear slipped out. Jim stubbornly allowed the tear to slide down his cheek without wiping it away. He wasn't falling apart. He hadn't in the past five weeks he'd been conscious. He wasn't going to do that now. Not here, not now, and quite possibly never.

"You did that, Jim," Bones said softly. "You brought them back together."

He wasn't going to do this. Didn't Bones know? Never.

"Lieutenant Carter wanted me to tell you when it was the right time and no sooner. I think there are things you need to know that you did, including this...and now that you're here...with us...as you're healing," Bones paused. "I believe that now is the right time."

Jim couldn't catch his breath as he cried, but he wasn't alone. A familiar pair of arms folded around him. Jim's shoulders shook as he tried to suppress all that threatened to spill over, fighting against his own instinct to curl into Bones.

"It's okay, Jim," Bones breathed into his hair.

It wasn't okay, he wanted to scream at Bones. How could anything ever be right again?

"Just let it out, buddy," Bones murmured. "This is a safe place."

Safe. Bones. The two words had always been synonymous to Jim. He could almost still believe that, despite everything.

"Jim, I promise you," Bones whispered urgently. "You're safe with me."

Bones' arms tightened around him, the only assurance he ever really needed, and that was all it took for Jim to let go.