Chapter 3

It had been nearly four months since the day he had met the kid. It seemed like a normal, awful day. His research had stalled. He felt every step forward he took; at the same time, he was taking two steps backwards. The medical board was becoming impatient. They wanted their neurosurgeon back. They had plenty of doctors and interns to run the clinics, but they had few doctors with the skills to perform neural surgery.

He had just grudgingly agreed to add two surgeries per week and cut back on his research hours during his shift. He wondered how long this agreement would last. It also meant he would have even less time at home. He was wondering when was the last time he saw sunlight when the kid slipped into his office. He was carrying an old wooden wicker basket. He wondered where the kid had possibly found such an antique.

"Hey!" The kid was as cheery as ever. "Picnic?" He held up the basket.

"Sorry. I have too much work."

His face immediately dropped. "Damnit. Don't give me that look."

"I once heard humans need vitamin D."

"I get my vitamins."

"It's better from the sun."

"Which also causes skin cancer."

"Bones, you seriously need to lighten up. Come on. I made you lunch." The kid pouted. Goddamn puppy dog eyes, he was even better at it then Joanna.

"Fine." Leonard threw down his PADD.

The kid immediately smiled. "Awesome. It'll be fun."

The kid led them to the park behind the hospital. He nodded at some of the nurses who were out with their patients. It really did feel nice. For once, it wasn't the traditional 100+ degree summer heat that seemed to plague Georgia summers. The kid found a metallic bench under a peach tree. "I thought you said I needed sun light."

The kid patted the space next to him. "Don't want you getting skin cancer." He handed him a turkey sandwich.

Leonard ate in silence while the kid stared off into the distance. He noticed worry lines on his forehead.

"Got something on your mind?"

The kid immediately turned around. "You haven't been home lately." It wasn't accusatory like what he frequently received from Jocelyn. The kid said it so matter of fact tone of voice that it made Leonard feel guiltier then any of Jocelyn's comms.

"Damn medical board wants me to cut down on my research hours. Says I need to pull my weight and do more surgeries."

"You can't do that?"

Leonard rubbed his neck. "No." It easily than explaining how fucked up his life was. The reality was too complicated.

The kid didn't push. "Actually that's not it either. Jocelyn sent me to drag you to your parents' summer end party."

Leonard paled. He had been trying to avoid his parents for months. He hated it, and he knew his mother didn't deserve it. But, seeing his parents meant seeing his father. Their last conversation still haunted him. "I…"

"She insisted."

Leonard sighed. "Okay."

However when a late afternoon emergency surgery happened, Leonard thought it was a sign that he could avoid the party. However, it turned out to be a minor surgery. When he left the operating theatre two hours later, he found the kid in the waiting room. He was holding a bundle of what Leonard could only assume to be his clothes. Damn it.

The kid immediately bolted up when he saw him. "Jocelyn sent me."

Leonard sighed.

An hour later, he and the kid were standing at his parents' front door. He wondered what Jocelyn had said to the kid before sending him. Was Jocelyn that convinced he would bolt the moment the kid left to need a fucking chaperone?

The kid was just turning to leave when the door open. "Len!" His mother pulled him into a tight hug. She smelt of peaches and meat loaf. She was skinner than the last time he saw her. He noticed that she had more wrinkles on her face and hands, and there more grey hairs intermingled with her brown strands. She had always been so proud of her lush brown hair.

"Ma," he whispered. He really did miss her. She pulled back.

She jerked her head in the kid's direction. "Who's this lovely young man you brought with you Len?" She teasingly asked him.

"He's Jim Kirk, Ma."

"Hi." The kid waved. He seemed a little uncomfortable. He fidgeted on the balls of his feet. "I should probably go."

"Nonsense Mr. Kirk," his mother chided. "You clearly dragged Len here, and I bet that wasn't easy."

"Ma," Leonard sighed.

"Stay, come eat with us. I made plenty of food."

The kid nodded. "Okay, Mrs. McCoy."

"Eleanor, call me Eleanor."

"Only if you call me Jim."

"Deal." She pulled them both inside. Her strength didn't seem to have weakened with time. As they progressed further into the house, and he noticed the sheer number of guests, it seemed that his mother might have invited the whole county. The house was overflowing with guests. He spied Joanna out back running around with her cousins in the same playground he played on as a child.

He spent most of the first hour introducing the kid to most of the guests. They were all old family friends and acquaintances. It seemed the kid's initially apprehension had eased, and he was back to his normally charming and charismatic self. It was only after dinner when most of the guests had gravitated outside to enjoy the warm Georgian evening that his mother pulled him aside. She spoke the words that he had been avoiding and hoping would never come. "Your father wants to speak to you." Leonard sighed. She patted his hand. "Len," she sounded so tired. Her voice reminded him of his childhood when after he had done something wrong, she would become aspirated by his actions.

"Ma…"

"Take Jim with you." Leonard looked at her in surprise. "He could use some brightness. That boy radiates brightness."

Leonard smiled. "Yeah, yeah he does."

She patted her arm again before exiting through the back patio door. She closed it behind him. Leonard sighed. He found the kid sitting in the empty dining room table. He seemed a little upset. He seemed to be worrying his lower lip. Leonard wasn't sure he had ever seen the kid so serious.

"Hey."

The kid looked up. "Oh, hey Bones." He smiled. It wasn't one of his normal smiles. It was one of those wooden, faux smiles that didn't reach his eyes. "It's okay Bones. They won't hate you."

His eyebrows rose. "What you talking about?"

The kid shook his head. "Never mind, you wanted something?"

"My dad, come meet my dad." Leonard decided not to push. The kid nodded. He pushed out of his seat. They walked upstairs and down the long hallway. His parents' bedroom was located on the most eastern tip of the estate. When he was little, his father told them the house was specifically designed so that generations of McCoy men could see the sunrise above the Georgian mountains before any other person. At the time, Leonard was just thankful that his bedroom faced the west. Now the curtains were perpetually drawn shut. He pulled the kid to a halt outside the doorway.

"My dad, he ain't well."

The kid nodded.

"Len, is that you?" A voice carried through the cracks of the door. Prior to his illness, David McCoy's voice was strong, deep and filled any room he was present in. Now, it just sounded tired and weak. Leonard reached for the doorknob. He sighed. The kid placed a firm hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezed. It seemed to give him enough strength to pull the door open.

"Yeah Dad, it's me. I brought a friend."

He found his father's sunken form lying on the bed. There were wires linked to various parts of his body. Leonard cringed at the readouts that were flashing on the monitors. The old adage that doctors make poor patients held true for his father. He had insisted to convalesce in the comfort of his own home instead of in a hospital. It went against everything Leonard believed in, but they both knew the hospital could offer him very little. Modern medical technology may have made great strides in the recent century, but there were still many uncured diseases. The dawn of space travel and colonization meant new discovers, but it also meant new diseases that didn't originate on Earth. Pyrrhoneuritis was one of those new diseases due to colonization. It had significantly weakened his father. Leonard was no stranger to the illness. He knew the symptoms and great pains on those infected. His father slowly turned his head to them. "Did you bring an angel, Len?"

Leonard choked back a laugh. The kid had been described as many things by his family and colleagues. However, angel was a new one. "No, Dad. This is Jim."

The kid stepped forward. He gently took his father's hand. He bent down and from the angle he was standing at, it seemed the kid was saying something to the other man. It was so quiet that Leonard couldn't make out a word of it. However, when the kid straightened up, there was a look of peace and serenity on his father's face that he hadn't seen in a long time. The kid lightly squeezed his shoulder before leaving the room. Leonard sighed before stepping forward to occupy the space the kid had taken.

"Hey Dad."

"You don't look so well. Your ma says that you have been avoiding her invitations." Even now, all grown up Leonard still flinched when his father reprimanded him. In the eyes of his parents, he was still a little boy.

"I've been busy, work," Leonard feebly explained. It seemed like such a horrible excuse now.

"Len," his father said disapprovingly.

"Dad," Leonard returned.

"Len, my boy," his voice softened.

"Dad, I'll find it." Leonard choked out the worlds. The conversation was already heading in the direction that he had wanted to avoid.

His father shook his head. It seemed to take a lot out of him. He seemed to cringe at the movement. He set his swollen hand over Leonard's. They were heavily inflamed. They looked worse than arthritis-ridden hands. "You're a good boy. You have a good heart, Len. You have a loving wife and daughter. They need you. I've lived a long life."

"Dad," Leonard muttered setting his own hand over his father's.

"Your mom is still young. She doesn't deserve to be saddled with an invalid for a husband."

"Dad."

His father patted his hand. "Len, please, let me die with the rest of my dignity," he whispered.

"Dad, you know I can't do that."

"The pain, son. The pain is too great."

"Dad."

"Please, Len. You promised, one year."

Leonard sighed. He pulled his hands away and instead gripped the edge of his father's biobed. He had been expecting this. The promise he had made. He had been so sure back then that he would find the cure. He had never failed before. However now, with his father hovering on the edge of consciousness and unconsciousness, Leonard didn't doubt that his body was consumed with pain.

"Len, please."

He was his father's son before he was a doctor. Leonard sighed. He looked at the machines hooked up to his father. It was purely technological advancements that still kept his father alive. He furrowed his brow at the high dosage of pain medication being pumped into his father's system, and he was still complaining about pain. Realistically the dosage should be enough to numb even a United African elephant. He looked into his father's eyes. The whites were heavily tinted with yellow. It was one of the early signs of liver failure. That was easy to fix. It was everything else that he couldn't fix. He sighed before reaching into his pants pocket. From it, he drew out his medical tricorder. He looked down at it. His months of research data were stored in it along with the termination program for his father's life support. He had placed them on the same PADD as a reminder of how little time he had. For once, time had beaten Leonard McCoy. He looked at his father: his sunken, pain-ridden form. It was a mere shadow of what had once been a proud man. Leonard blinked back his tears. His father nodded. He squeezed his hand once. Leonard clung to his father's hand with his right. With his other hand, he connected the device to his father's biobed and activated the program. The device flashed. Tears burned his eyes as he watched the life drain from his father. A small smile appeared on his father's face as he slipped away. One hadn't seen in a long time. As the final beep from the cardiac monitor sounded, only then did the ramifications of what he had done hit him. Leonard pulled the tricorder from the bed and bolted.

He knew it wouldn't be long before his mother would find her husband. As he bolted through the front door, he wondered about the final words that his parents had said to each other. He wondered if his mother would ever forgive him for what he had done. Or his sister or even his baby girl. As he bolted, he wondered if he had imagined the haunted look he saw on the kid's face as he ran past. Had the kid seen what he had done?

When he heard the all familiar wail coming from the house that he knew could only belong to his mother, he finally broke down.

He sank to his knees. He let out a sob that he hadn't realized he had been holding.