Author's Note: Thank you so much for your support! I'm grateful to everyone who is reading the story after all this time. :)

Plumeria47, junker5, and diamondblue4 - you are amazing. Thank you for taking the time to edit and make comments on these chapters. Hugs!

Well, I'm technically still backtracking, though this chapter pretty much picks up from where we left off last chapter. The first scene is in Jocelyn's POV. After she takes Jim to his room, she finds Nora, first, before returning to talk to McCoy in the dining room. So, you'll be reading part of a scene from Chapter 15, but in Jocelyn's POV instead of McCoy's. I really wanted to fill her character out more, plus give you some information you'd be lacking otherwise.

Spoiler warning posted in end notes.

oOo

And If I Stand Next to You

Chapter 17

I'm one step closer (and two steps further away)

oOo

Leaving Jim behind in his bedroom and no less traumatized by her ex-husband's tirade, Jocelyn crossed her arms and tried to rub the chill from them. A chill that felt like someone had opened the front door and forgotten to close it, letting in the cold, damp air. But that hadn't happened. It could only be her conflicted emotions, mixed up and aggravated by the meld with Commander Spock.

But she wasn't the only tormented being in this house. Had Leonard lost his mind, too, pushing Jim over the edge like that? Had Spock lost his own grip on reality, spilling Jim's secret? Had everyone lost their minds?

She didn't regret her brash decision to meld with Commander Spock. If anything, it was the only silver lining in this mess she'd made for herself. For them. She only wished there were more silver linings, to spare Jim—and Leonard—more pain.

Her present concern for Jim wasn't normal, the emotional transference from the meld already transforming her. She couldn't stop thinking about him and the horrors he'd survived. The death he'd overcome. His courage. His determination. This drug therapy that was horrible enough to make him wish that he didn't really need it.

And with each thought of Jim, the distinct desire to help him overwhelmed her.

Contemplating this new sense of compassion she felt for the captain, as well as for Leonard, she didn't speak for a long time once she found Nora in the small room off the kitchen. While the older woman knitted quietly in a rocking chair, she found a seat in a chair and pulled Joanna on her lap like her daughter was seven months old, not seven years old.

They sat there, not speaking to one another, for ten or fifteen minutes, maybe longer. She knew she looked a mess, her eyes red and worn from crying. It took her that long for her breathing to even out and to not feel like she was going to start crying again at the drop of a hat.

Unexpectedly, Nora smiled. It brightened the room but did nothing for the knots growing in Jocelyn's stomach.

"He'll need you, my dear," Nora said out of the blue, eyeing her carefully.

Jocelyn bit back a laugh. "Leonard? Hardly."

"You know his faults." Nora glanced down at her lap, returning to her knitting. "And you've never been afraid to call them out."

She cringed. Nora was right. She always had thrown his faults, no matter how small they had been, back in his face. "I was too hard on him."

"Perhaps," Nora murmured, her eyes cast down. "But he wasn't always easy to deal with, either."

"I'm not sure I can make a difference," she whispered, squeezing Joanna.

"Mommy!" Joanna complained.

She loosened her hold. "Sorry, baby."

"It's worth a try," Nora said. "They have too much history to let this ruin their friendship"

They had more than just history. They truly cared for each other.

It was similar to the love that she used to receive, but had ruined. "They're not just best friends." She hesitated. "They're brothers."

Nora smiled. "That they are."

She was happy Leonard had found a new family. She really was. "Will you watch over Joanna?"

Nora nodded. "Of course, dear. Joanna, why don't you look for the blue yarn that I used for the neighbor's baby blanket?"

Joanna slid off of Jocelyn's lap. "I remember. That was so pretty, Nana," she said, and went to the basket on the other side of Nora's rocker.

But Jocelyn could not move. What if this shattered Leonard and Jim's friendship? What if Leonard never forgave her? She wouldn't blame him if he didn't. When it came down to it, all of this was her fault.

She gripped the arms of the chair, torturing herself by recalling the first time she'd met Clay. She'd been impressed by his strength and charisma, his ability to take care of her at first, but eventually that had faded and she'd grown lonelier with each passing day. Part of her had known Joanna would never warm up to him, and Clay to her. Yet she'd been too naive and needy to accept that Clay would never learn to even care for Joanna half as much as Leonard did.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Joanna slipping out of the room.

Nora hummed in the silence, a welcome sound that comforted for her. Whenever things were uncertain, Nora had a way about her that was calming. A trait she'd envied for years.

"Storms don't last forever," Nora murmured, her needles clicking. "No matter how hard the lightning strikes."

Her heart pounded in her chest. This was far more than just lightning striking. "Did Leonard tell you what he did? For Jim?"

Nora shook her head, not looking up from her knitting. "He didn't have to. I know what he did. It's what men like Leonard do for their captains."

Jocelyn sighed and got to her feet. "Wish me luck."

The older woman glanced up at her. "He'll need your tough love."

She frowned. Did she still love Leonard? Is that what everyone thought of her? Did they believe that was the reason for clinging to an evil, selfish man? To hide her love for Leonard?

Nora's knitting needles stilled. "Oh, I know you don't love my son like you did. But, I don't think what you once felt for Leonard will ever go away completely. It's like an old wound. Healed, but you know it's there. You still have a connection with him, though it's different now. And that, my dear, gives you the freedom to do what someone else, even Commander Spock, cannot."

"Tough love?" she repeated.

Nora's smile blossomed. "He's used to it. Every now and then I give him advice, whether he wants it or not."

"Thank you, Nora." She leaned down and kissed her cheek. "For not giving up on me."

"You're my granddaughter's mother." Nora reached up and squeezed her hand. "And once a daughter-in-law, always a daughter."

Jocelyn's throat thickened with emotion.

"Now, go," Nora said. "Before he loses himself in that head of his."

Jocelyn quickly obeyed and left, her heart pounding with uncertainty until she found Leonard in the same place she'd left him. Staring at the wall with his back to Spock—and her.

She squared her shoulders though Leonard could not see her. Nora was right. He needed her. "You shouldn't be so hard on him."

"You're one to talk," he muttered.

She walked closer, catching a glimpse of the side of his face. He looked more defeated than she'd ever seen him.

"You've put me through hell, Joce," he gasped. "Jim and Spock, too, for that matter."

She'd do anything to go back in time to fix it. To start over.

God, she wished she'd never met Clay Treadway.

She barely held back her tears. "I know," she said weakly. "And I'm...I'm truly sorry."

He spun around, his pain and anger directed at her.

And she deserved it.

Leonard's eyes were accusatory. "You have no right to...to…"

"To what?" She managed a shaking breath. "To apologize? Make amends? Help him? Help you? When you can't even see straight?"

She could tell right away that her words had made him even angrier.

"I can see just fine," he snapped.

Recalling Nora's wisdom, she refused to back down. "I know you better than most, Len. Even as your ex-wife. You're seeing through your hurt, Len." Although she said that for his benefit, it hit close to home. She crossed her arms across her chest and hugged herself. "Like I did."

"She is correct, Leonard," Spock agreed, breaking his silence. "You must take a moment to regain your perspective."

Leonard scowled. "I need more than a damn moment."

"I know," she said. "I would, too. But don't take too long."

She held his gaze, hoping that he'd see that she truly cared, maybe for the first time, about his best friend. And if he did, that she was willing to be a friend when he needed one the most.

"Do you realize that this changes everything? That I have months and months of files to go through? Jim's medical files?" Leonard asked incredulously. "To make sense of his symptoms over time? Not only that, but I have to find the right healer and convince them to come here to help him? While he's receiving drug therapy? Do you realize how even more difficult this is going to be on him?"

A day ago, and she would have ignored every word he said, even laughed it off in his face. The cruel and selfish part of her unfairly using it to get back at him for his fault in their failing marriage.

But the meld had revealed a new world to her, one that was comprised of Spock, Kirk, and her ex-husband. She couldn't ignore anything he said.

She was still struggling to fit all the pieces into it, this life she'd thought Leonard lived in Starfleet. Yet, she now understood enough to know that Leonard's concerns were valid.

"I don't understand all of what just happened but I do know that Jim Kirk is not a selfish person," she cautioned him. "He didn't mean to hurt you."

Leonard stared hard at her for a moment, as if judging her authenticity. "How is he?" he finally asked, his voice broken with emotion.

"He's not...well," she said slowly. "And he needs you."

Before she could challenge him to get over himself and see to Jim, Joanna ran into the room. Tears coursed down her cheeks. "Uncle Jim is gone!" she cried.

Leonard went over to her and kneeled on the floor, gently grabbing her by her arms. "What do you mean, Jojo?"

She gulped a large breath. "I snuck into his room when Mommy was talking with Nana! But he wasn't there!"

Jocelyn's heart dropped. Had Jim actually left? Was he truly that desperate to escape his drug therapy?

This changed everything. No matter what had happened.

Leonard glanced back at Spock, not her. The two men exchanged a glance, the Vulcan visibly concerned.

"I've...I've looked everywhere," Jojo sobbed.

Spock moved like lightning. He was out of the room and down the hall before she could blink, Leonard racing after him.

Jocelyn grabbed her daughter's hand. "Go find Nana, sweetie, while I talk to your father."

Joanna nodded, but didn't obey until after she brought her out into the hallway and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Once Joanna was out of sight, she took a deep breath and went to Jim's bedroom. When she stepped in the doorway, Spock and Leonard were quietly speaking to one another.

Leonard stared down at a comm, most likely Jim's. "How did he even leave the property without the police noticing?"

He handed the device to Spock, who scrolled through a list of numbers.

"This side of the house is shadowed by the trees," Jocelyn offered. "Making it easier for him to hide and leave unnoticed."

Leonard frowned at her. "He couldn't have gotten far."

Jocelyn wondered how he could underestimate Jim even in his condition. Even as an outsider who now knew their darkest secrets—including Leonard risking it all to save Jim—she knew that Jim Kirk could leave this house if he wanted to—and go far.

"I will leave at once," Spock murmured. "Chief Larrett must also be alerted, given the possibility that this is related to Treadway's disappearance."

Panic flashed across Leonard's face. "Jim left of his own accord. There's no indication of any struggle," he protested.

"I fear it is a possibility."

"I'll come with you." Leonard said, his eyes drawn with worry. "There's no question that Jim is pushing himself running off like this. I don't know what his physical or mental condition will be when we find him."

"Is any of his luggage is missing?"

Leonard went to the closet, rummaging for evidence. "Only his duffel bag is missing. Think he left for the hospital?"

"Perhaps," Spock said. "Or a nearby hotel."

"Maybe we can still find him, before he hurts himself." Leonard stood. "Is he blocking us?"

Spock closed his eyes, his brow furrowing. "Yes," he said quietly, after a brief pause. He opened his eyes. "It is unfortunate," he added then strode from the room.

Jocelyn and Leonard followed him, stopping when Nora called out from the end of the hall.

Nora looked at them with motherly concern. "He's gone?" she asked.

"Yes," Leonard clipped. "He left. He could be headed for San Francisco on his own—or another place to stay for the night."

Jocelyn could only hope that Leonard was right.

"It's storming again," Nora murmured, casting a glance out of the window. "I don't like the idea of him out in this weather in his weakened condition."

Joanna glued herself to Nora's hip, her eyes wet. "Daddy, please find Uncle Jim. I'm scared."

"We'll find him, baby," Jocelyn assured her.

Leonard turned to look at her, scowling. "We?"

She huffed. Did he always have to doubt everything she said? "You need all the help you can get."

His gaze narrowed on her. "And Jojo?"

"We'll be fine," Nora interjected, gently squeezing Joanna's shoulders. "Go."

"I will contact Larrett, then inform you of where we should look for him," Spock said.

"I'll be waiting." Leonard's scowl deepened. "Until then, I'll head downtown, towards the public transport system. He might be planning on taking a hoverbus to wherever it is that he's going."

Once Jocelyn was left alone with her ex-husband, she held her breath. She didn't know what else to say to him to comfort him, her own thoughts in a whirlwind. She also wanted to help, but wasn't sure that he would let her.

Of course, that never stopped her before.

"I need to pack a few things," he said hotly.

She tamped down a sigh and followed him back into Jim's room. He was grabbing medical supplies left and right, but she was certain he didn't even comprehend half the items he was stuffing into a bag.

"What did you mean, asking Mr. Spock if he is blocking you?" she asked.

"We have a bond," Leonard said, his face conveniently averted as he packed more into a bag.

"A bond?" she repeated in disbelief.

She could not see him entering some kind of Vulcan bond willingly.

He must have seen the confusion on her face.

"A familial bond that was recently formed—by accident," he explained tightly.

"Oh. I bet you just love that."

"If you're asking if it bothered me, it did," he snapped. "At first. Now, however, it would come in handy if Jim wasn't so damn stubborn."

She felt slightly guilty she had goaded him, especially when he was so worried. But she was also amused that he couldn't see their shared stubbornness for himself.

She lifted a brow. "Like you?"

He shot her an indignant look.

She stared back unapologetically, vowing to help him even if he tried to push her away.

Anything to right her many wrongs.

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oOo

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Spock paced in the quietness of Eleanora's kitchen, unsettled and his logic fraying. Nora had taken Joanna upstairs to speak with her privately, in an effort to calm her fears about Jim's absence. He had been gratified to learn that he had not been expected to offer the child comfort for he could find none in the way that Jim had fled the premises.

Neither could he find comfort in the last conversation he'd had with Leonard and Jim.

Now, having spoken to Chief Larrett, and continuing to dwell on their conversation with his own questions, he felt as if his mind was on the verge of imploding. Specifically, whenever he thought or spoke about Jim.

If it was Jim's agitation, not his, he could not discern the difference, though he suspected that it was. Meditation would reduce any agitation, but he could not excuse himself to do so now. Since his discussion with Larrett about the captain, the sensation in his mind had not stopped.

He did not understand it, could not determine a reason for it. Jim was continuing to shield himself from both him and Leonard, yet this disturbance from the human grew with each passing minute.

He found it difficult to give Larrett his full attention under the circumstances, although he had discovered the act of pacing reduced his agitation by twenty-one percent.

It must be the captain's.

Leonard and Jocelyn were preparing to leave, and so should he. However, another thought had formed in his mind, an urgent premonition like a prick, that prevented him from doing so. It grew in strength, warning him that he was missing a key piece to the mystery surrounding Jim's departure.

He was, indeed, missing many pieces.

Nyota often told him, teasingly, that the captain was the center of his universe. It was a peculiar observation expressed by the very object of his affection, a woman with whom he found a comfortable companionship. He had tried to formulate a counter argument, but he had discovered in the first days on board the Enterprise under Captain Kirk that she was ninety-five point one percent correct in her observations. Selek, who had expressed a similar sentiment, was also correct.

Despite his illogical desire to refute her claim, and assert that he had joined Starfleet long before Jim Kirk had, which would prove he was not the center of his universe, he could not deny its truth. Now that he shared a familial bond with the very man who had left the premises, a man who had become, by nature of the bond, a brother, there was no doubt that his life had entwined with the captain's in a way he would never have predicted.

The new bond, and the deep concern he had for Jim's well-being, had provoked him to reveal Jim's secret. Regretfully, although it had not been entirely of his own accord, he had done so. Without regard to the captain's desire to withhold the information from Leonard.

It grieved him, and he would have to make amends. However, he would not dwell on the past. He was certain of the adverse effects the meld had had on Jim. They had become chronic in nature, and the harm it had inflicted in the depths of his mind could no longer be ignored. Jim would have never informed the doctor. It had, inevitably, been both his decision and the influence of the bond that had determined his own course in the end.

After all, he had been the one to perform the meld. More or less.

If logic had controlled Jim Kirk, the situation would have been resolved once they had reached Earth after the Narada attacks.

But, logic did not dictate Jim Kirk's actions now.

That is why he must convince Larrett to view Jim's actions as he does. Illogical, but uncannily correct.

Whatever they had first believed to be the cause for Jim's departure was simply not the truth.

He was certain that if they did not quickly discover the reason, they would not find Jim before he left Atlanta, increasing the probability that his health would be damaged.

"Why would Kirk comm not one but three cab companies?" Chief Larrett murmured.

"It is possible it is a diversion."

"Diversion?" Larrett frowned. "That seems a little...much. Especially if he was emotionally unstable and physically ill. I don't know how anyone would have had the wherewithal to make three calls before leaving in that state. Has Kirk done anything like this before?"

Spock could not deny the logic of the Chief's reasoning, but explaining the captain's past behavior to Chief Larrett was not without its own difficulties. Larrett would not begin to understand the circumstances because he could not divulge certain Starfleet records. "He has acted in a perplexing manner in the past," he said, choosing his words carefully. "His ways...differ."

"Then this could be to confuse us.…" The chief paused. "That is a reasonable assumption based on what you explained earlier."

But Jim was not logical.

"Perhaps the opposite is true in this case," Spock said.

Chief Larrett sighed, then grew quiet. "He did this to guide us? These are clues as to where he is going?"

"Yes." Indeed, it now appeared to be the answer behind the captain's brash actions.

Yes, Jim was reckless. He was also brave. Unselfish. He had proved it, perishing alone behind an impenetrable door.

James T. Kirk had acted in the best interest of his crew, saving them.

Though he could not ascertain how—or why—he could not ignore the strong probability that Jim had ventured beyond the safe walls of Nora's house in an effort to protect someone.

Leonard, or Joanna. Or both.

"If it is not a diversion, these are clues," Larrett repeated. "I do know, offhand, that these companies surround the general downtown area when locating them on a map, although they are several blocks away from the main strip. If he's headed in that direction, he's nearly halfway there now. I'll alert the station, call these companies. Meanwhile—"

"I will proceed with my previous plans to drive towards the city," Spock asserted.

"It probably would be best. In Mr. Kirk's ill state, and the rain, who knows…"

Larrett left his observation unfinished, the raw truth of the situation clear to both of them. It was painful to finish it silently and alone.

"I'll keep in touch, Mr. Spock," Larrett said after a pause.

"So will I."

Their comm ended. As he walked out of the kitchen, he heard Leonard and Jocelyn speaking to one another as they exited through the front door, their murmurs indecipherable despite his Vulcan hearing. The front door closed behind them.

Spock continued through the hallway, intent on his own departure, when Nora called from above to him.

"Commander!"

The fear and urgency in her voice alarming, he stopped and glanced up, his gaze sweeping upwards past the steps. She stood at the top of the stairs, gripping the banister.

He could not determine why, but her expression disturbed him.

"Thank God you haven't left yet." Her voice was soft and broken. "Is Len still here?"

"He is not. Is something wrong?" he inquired.

"I'd say there is," she said, her knuckles whitening, along with her face. "Mr. Spock, you better come up here."

.

.

oOo

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.

Jim gripped the handlebars and leaned forward with a crooked grin.

After he'd taken the motorcycle from a fenced in junkyard in a neighbor's backyard, five doors down from Nora, he knew she'd be worth the price he'd pay later for stealing this antique. His dad would have liked her. She was smooth and fast, her wheels in perfect condition. All that he needed her to be in order to get to Treadway on time.

The scenery slipped past him like he was on a merry-go-round, the lights, colors, and shapes blurring together. The sight sent a thrill down his spine, a thrill he constantly craved.

He was happy. Like he was finally seeing the world as it should be. No more dying, or thinking about dying, or thinking about recovering.

He could ride all night.

Maybe forever.

The rain pelted his shoulders and soaked his head. The wind whipped his face because he'd forgotten to wear a helmet. He'd already had to evade the police once.

But he didn't care.

He was loose and free—damn, he was high—and loving every minute of it.

Agrediphine was the best thing he'd ever done for himself. He reached with one hand to pat his jacket pocket, to make sure he had the other medications. They were there, ready for him.

Not that they were the answer to his every problem. Hell, he was still coughing. Even so, Treadway didn't stand a chance.

He tilted his head back and laughed softly in the darkness, letting the rain fall on his face. He licked the fresh drops of rain running over his lips. It was the best water he'd ever tasted in his life, but it didn't even taste like water. It tasted like magic. Like a dream, soothing his throat as it went down.

If he were a betting man—and he most definitely was—he'd bet that Bones had no idea of the gift he had stashed in his closet.

Once he stopped near the bookstore, he'd dose up again. If he felt this good now, he could only imagine how good he'd feel with another shot. Didn't matter what it was, as long as it was something.

He would be there soon. Any minute no—

He thought he saw the sign, from the corner of his eye. Jerking to attention, Jim pulled himself up straight, a strange feeling settling in his stomach and another creeping into his chest.

Shit.

He shouldn't have passed the street.

He had to drive down the street.

That was all part of his plan, wasn't it?

He looked to his left and then his right. And left, again. His head was practically spinning when he was done, unsure as to where he was. Until he saw another sign.

Dammit, he really had passed the street. He couldn't stop or he'd waste more time. He had to get to the bank, then to Treadway.

Or maybe he'd already gone to a bank. He couldn't remember.

Why couldn't he remember?

Shit, what the hell was going on? The road was curvy, every light blinding him.

Why couldn't he see straight?

He had the money. He had to have it. His duffel bag was stuffed full. It had to be.

Treadway was waiting for it.

Where was he going again?

Fuck.

He didn't feel right.

He felt amazing.

He had to head back.

To Bones.

No, to Treadway.

It was up to him.

He had to stop.

He had to turn.

He slammed on the brakes.

The bike tipped precariously.

He should've known better.

But he didn't.

Not this time.

The wheels slipped on the wet road, and Jim went careening.

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oOo

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.

After Nora finished explaining what she had found in Leonard's room, Spock could not form a proper reply. He was grievously perplexed by the captain's most recent actions. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, his heart beating erratically at his side.

Jim had broken into Dr. McCoy's medical supplies and taken at least two medications, then proceeded to inject himself with the drugs without the doctor's supervision.

He could not find any comfort in the facts. Jim was gravely ill, with unknown drugs now coursing through his blood.

He had expected Jim to act illogically. He had never expected him to act so foolishly. Not after all that Leonard had done to save his life, the pain of that still fresh.

"I found one there," Nora said quietly pointing to a spot by the bed. "And here," she continued, nodding towards the wall.

Spock reread the name on the packaging she had handed him.

Agrediphine.

He was unaware of the drug or the drug's effects, but that Jim had taken them was all that he required to ascertain that they were strong enough give an ill man enough strength to leave, unhindered, and brave the outside world.

However, he did not have enough information to determine if the two hyposprays Jim had administered to himself had been too much.

A most disconcerting thought.

"I must inform Dr. McCoy at once," he said, clutching the packaging at his side.

Indeed, he dreaded telling him what Jim had done.

Nora nodded, her expression pinched with worry. "I'm so sorry, Commander. I wish—"

Spock jolted back unexpectedly, her words lost as pain slammed into his head. It flooded his mind before he could shield himself from the unexpected attack.

"Commander!"

Spock fell to his knees, his mind ravaged with fire. He clutched his skull, the sensation dulling every awareness he had of his surroundings.

This was Jim.

Jim.

The captain was in trouble, and he could not push him away. He never could.

He shielded what he could without blocking Jim entirely. He shielded the doctor when he realized Jim's distress had filtered through the bond to him, as well.

He reached for every clue Jim gave him through this unprecedented lapse in control.

He reached for Jim.

He found him, and Jim's eyes became his own.

Dazedly, he blinked up at the sky, seeing nothing but the rain before it hit his face.

He had crashed. Maybe. He really didn't know what had happened. For all he knew, he was stargazing, his favorite thing to do on the obser...observ...oh, hell. Whatever it's called. Had been all along. He felt numb, the euphoria different than it had been before, but no less.

The honk of a horn shattered the idea that he was sprawled on the grass.

Huh. He was on the road?

He lazily rolled onto his side. He didn't stand, something like a deep pressure at his side taking his breath away. But he did look. A darkened road led to a sign and another road, right into the heart of the city. He strained to read the sign, but its words were too hard to read in the dark.

He peered further into the darkness, and found it. His motorcycle had spun off the road.

He awkwardly pushed himself to his knees. His next thought was a sinking realization. One hypospray had fallen out of his pocket. It had cracked, its liquid spilling out onto the street. With a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket, his apprehension growing. He sighed in relief once he caressed the drugs that he had left. At least these were safe, whatever they were.

A hovercraft drove past, and another. He struggled to his feet and walked unsteadily towards his bike, his body easily pushed to and fro by the wind. The rain pounded his back, not that he cared. He was already soaked through. And the ride had been exhilarating.

He straightened, confident it would still be exhilarating.

Something thick slipped into his eye, and he wiped at the annoying substance with a fumbling, broken gesture. It was too dark to know what it was.

He sniffed his sleeve, instead. Tasted it when that didn't work.

Blood.

He stared down at his sleeve and laughed.

That was nothing. He could deal with a little blood. With wiping out on the bike. He was as high as a kite. He could handle bloo—

Oh, shit, was he high.

Shit, he was high.

Bones was going to kill him.

Treadway was going to kill them.

With a grunt and more laughter, he pulled his bike up and onto the road.

He had to get there at whatever cost.

He wasn't moving fast enough.

He could fix that.

While he was still laughing, a hypospray slipped from his fingers, empty. This time it fell on a patch of grass.

He had to get there before they found out. He had to get to the bo—

And as quickly as it had come, it faded.

Author's Note: WARNING: DRUG USE

Another cliffhanger...don't hate me! I thought I would have more about McCoy in this chapter, but I pretty much shortened it so I could update more quickly. He'll be in Ch. 18.

Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Working on the next chapter...will post again as soon as I can. :)