Author's Note: So just a little disclaimer, I'm sorry if the medical stuff in here isn't detailed and/or accurate, a lot of medical jargon flies over my head, I'm an art major, the farthest thing from medical stuff. So I apologize ahead of time if my hospital scene isn't the best. Also, I would like to know if anybody actually uses my links that I'm posting, I'm still going to post them, but it would be nice to know if people actually use them.

Link: There isn't a link on my profile, but I recommend you all go listen to That's Life, by Frank Sinatra and/or Michael Buble since I named the chapter after this song. I personally like the Buble version better, but it's the same song, so it shouldn't matter.

Disclaimer: The song That's Life, doesn't belong to me.

Chapter 6: That's Life

Sweat was running down the side of McCoy's forehead. It seems to be exceptionally hot in the classroom today. His seat was unusually uncomfortable, and even the tiniest noises seem to be so loud. And for the life of him, Leonard couldn't remember the answer to this question.

It was his last final of the semester. It was also his biggest final, and the one he was the most concerned about: Starfleet Overview. He had studied the different areas that make up a Starship crew and their responsibilities and general knowledge relentlessly the whole week, and had felt prepared, but that was before last night. The entire week he had convinced Jim to leave him alone and not to interrupt his sleep at night. It was probably the longest running period of time without interrupted sleep this whole semester. With all the excitement of last night, it seemed that all the knowledge in his head scrambled around or flew out the window.

Jim had called him at two in the morning saying that he might be in some deep shit. Like getting arrested or academic suspension kind of shit. Without a second thought Bones hopped out of the bed, turned the lights on (much to the annoyance of his roommate, pretty sure Kyle was screaming at him), and raced around the room putting clothes on, searching for his medical kit, and his wallet. He bolted down the corridors and almost got ran over several times on his way to the bar across from the campus.

The bar was big, and it was fancy. It looked like a place where Officers, instructors, or the big mugwumps would hang out. Not the kind of dive that Jim usually occupied. People were gathered around the outside of the entrance. McCoy had to shove and elbow to get to the doors. Inside there were still crowds of people standing around. In the middle were a couple of bodies lying on the floor and Jim kneeling beside one of them.

Leonard slid down next to Jim, the kid looked up. He looked wild, panicked, and lost. He grabbed onto Bones and words started spilling out of his mouth.

"We were just having a drink, talking over some stuff. This guy walked in. He had this look about him. He started going all crazy. Talking about the independence of some people or animal or something, and then suddenly he was burning this Federation flag and shooting. Not shooting at anything in particular, but just at everyone." Jim kept on talking, McCoy glanced around the room and saw other bodies littered around the floor, "We had to stop him, so he distracted the man while I went up behind him. The guy was like a wild dog, I-I couldn't think of anything to do, I had to protect these people! So I just took a hold of his head and," Jim made this twisting motion and was staring at a body, the doctor turned around and looked at the other body close by, sure enough the man was dead. Jim was still talking though, "-found him like this, please, please do something Bones. He can't die, please. The medics aren't getting here fast enough, there was an accident or something on the roads. Please, he can't die, please Bones-"

McCoy looked down at the person laying in front of them, on closer inspection he found out why Jim was freaking out so much. It was Captain Pike. Well shit and hellfire. First thing he did was give Jim a relaxant so that he would shut the hell up and let him get to work. He gently pushed the kid back, he needed all the room he could get. He pulled out a tricorder and passed it over the Captain's body (even though the possession of a tricorder outside medical facilities was illegal, McCoy found that he needed it more outside the facilities than in), there were only a couple of bullet wounds. Actual bullet wounds, the assailant didn't even have the decency to use a phaser, which would've cauterized the wounds.

Thankfully only one wound was near an area close enough to make the doctor edgy. But it didn't help the fact that Pike was bleeding out. Jim seemed to have possessed his wits enough to try and at least slow down the blood flow. McCoy didn't want to pull the bullets out now, since it would increase the escaping blood exponentially. So he gave the good Captain some clotting enzymes, wiped some disinfectant on and around the holes, and tarred strips of clothe to wrap around the wounds tightly. This was all he could do outside of the hospital, so Bones gave Pike some anesthesia and stood up.

Jim latched onto his legs, he was babbling something. Bones felt his eye tick, he grabbed Jim and stared at him directly in the eyes, "That's all I can do for him, Jim. They'll take the bullets out at the hospital, right now he's stable. Just stay with him; there are other people here that need my help." Jim was still looking at him and talking about something, suspension or jail or something. McCoy shook his head, he really didn't have time for this, "Kid, kid- Jim. It was self-defense, you're not going to get suspended for protecting people."

With that he went to the nearest body from them, it was an older man, McCoy shook his head: dead. He hurried to the next person, it was a young lady. Thankfully the bullet had only grazed her shoulder. He disinfected and got out his stitching kit.

"Isn't there a less barbaric way of helping her?" The young man beside her asked. His voice perpetuated high class and a snotty attitude. The young lady was trying to shush the man.

McCoy paused and looked at the man in the face until he could tell the man was starting to get cowed, "There's nothing compared to the reliable use of one's own hands to an unfeeling machine. I'm the doctor here, so why don't you let me do my job." He went back to stitching the young woman, she gazed at him with grateful eyes. He moved on to the next one. Some of them were dead, others had only broken an ankle. Bones had almost finished one half of the bar room when the sirens reached his ears and the medics burst in and spread throughout the room. McCoy went up to the Chief Medical Officer and was talking to her about the ones he had already treated. She nodded and thanked him for his help.

"If a doctor such as yourself hadn't of been here we could've lost so many more, thank you McCoy."

The police and photographers were there as well, interviewing the witnesses and searching the crime scene. Jim was in the thick of it. And boy did the kid look lost, but he was holding up well enough. To everyone else he might have looked calm, collected, and in charge, but McCoy knew better. He probably knew Jim better than anyone in the whole universe, and he didn't fool the old doctor one bit. So McCoy shoved some police away and stepped up to Jim's side, he put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Jim flashed him a grin.

After Jim had told the police every single detail of the event, they started pulling him away. McCoy stepped between them and held up a placating hand towards the law officers, "James needs sleep. After such a traumatic event, rest is the best thing for the body and the mind."

"We understand, sir, but we need to take Mr. Kirk back to the station for further questioning, we need-"

"I don't give a rat's ass about your needs, I'm this man's personal doctor, and I say he needs to rest and continue his regular school schedule. You can contact him tomorrow or the next day, but right now I think everyone needs to retire to their homes."

The officer looked at McCoy critically and then nodded, he turned to his men, "Okay, let's get this wrapped up and all these people out of here."

Leonard pulled Jim out into the cold night, the air out here was refreshing. Jim was tugging at his hold until the doctor stopped and turned to him, "I want to go the hospital and check on Pike."

McCoy glared at Jim, the nerve of this kid, "Absolutely not. Pike is going to be fine, he has family who can moan and whinge at his bedside, you're exhausted." They continued walking, "And may I remind you that you have several finals tomorrow, though they are later in the morning."

They finally reached Jim's dorm room, thankfully Jim's roommate was out about as much as Jim was, so there was no complaining as they entered. Leonard directed them towards the bathroom and sat Jim on the lip of the bathtub. He rubbed some salves into bruises forming on Jim's face and along his ribs. Passing the tricorder over his body didn't bring up anymore complications. Leonard then proceeded to supervise Jim getting ready for sleep, after minutes of complaining, Jim collapsed on his bed. Bones felt satisfied that Jim wouldn't get back up for anything. He checked the kid's alarm clock, and turned to leave.

"Hey Bones," McCoy turned around, "you're not my personal doctor."

McCoy rolled his eyes and muttered, "Sometimes I wonder, kid. Sometimes I wonder . . ."

By the time he had gotten back to his room, showered and thrown away his bloody clothes, and had grabbed a piece of bread to eat, it was time to go to his early morning final.

So what was the calculation for warp speed? He has no clue. McCoy knows it's somewhere in the back of his head, but everything in there was swimming by this time. He was tired. But it was simply ridiculous that all the knowledge in his head suddenly decides now to play musical chairs. Looking at the time, he quickly finishes the rest of the test. He prays that he can at least pass with a C.

"Okay, times up. Everyone bring your tests up to the front. If you wish to stay a few minutes after, I can have these tests corrected in a micro."

McCoy decides to stay behind and wait with a few other students. His shift at the hospital doesn't start for another hour. He implores a higher power that it was a slow day at work. The teacher comes back and shifts through the PADDS, the other students look at their score and leave with big grins. The teacher looks at Leonard and then back at his test. Oh great, either he did a fantastic job or he crashed and burned, and McCoy bet on the latter.

She motions Leonard to move closer to her desk, "Cadet McCoy," she pauses, "this is the worst score I've ever seen in this class."

Bones stomach drops, "I still pass though, right?"

The teacher shook her head, "No. The score isn't even close to a –C. Leonard, didn't you study at all? Didn't you take this test seriously?"

McCoy feels like he's in elementary school again, "Yes, I studied, I studied the whole damn week, from dawn to dusk."

"Well, it doesn't show."

"I'm sorry, I was out late last night and-"

"Partying before finals are even over, Cadet McCoy? Well, I hope retaking this class next semester will be prime motivation to be rigorous in your studies." She sighs, and look at Leonard with an air of disappointment, "A good majority of Starfleet recruit natural geniuses, but Leonard, some of us are just normal people who have to work hard to get what we want."

Wow, McCoy thinks, I think she just insulted me. Panic flares through him though, this couldn't be happening, "Please, Commander S'lathe, I need to pass this class. I won't be able to do my Practical Application next year if I don't pass this class this semester. Please, all I need is a C."

S'lathe shakes her head, "I'm sorry McCoy, I don't just let my students glide through my classes and then give them a fake grade at the end of the semester just so that they can move onto their focus. I'm terribly sorry." She gets up and leaves without giving McCoy a word in edgewise.

Leonard stands there for a minute, "Dammit!"

"Pike said he would like to see you, Doctor."

"That's nice."

"He insisted on thanking you personally for what you did last night."

"I'm busy, tell him that."

"But sir-"

McCoy turns around and leaves the corridor. It was busy at the Starfleet hospital today. Something to do with a flight training going haywire. Dealing with whiny cadets was the last thing he wants to handle, especially since he has a critical patient of his own that was on the edge of full recovery or death. But no, he can't concentrate on his patient, a patient that oddly reminds him of his father, he has to help check over the snotty brats. This day was just plain shitty.

Leonard hadn't had the chance to take even a cat nap, and the stress that was created from his last final this morning put him in a mood that made Captain Nogura look like a saint. So all the nurses, interns, and fellow doctors steer clear of him like he's the plague as he walks down the hallway. He finally reaches the section where all the cadets are being treated. McCoy looks at the man sitting down. The kid looks up at him.

"There's nothing wrong with you, leave."

The cadet flinches at the harsh tones, "But I think I did something to my wrist . . ."

"Go home and put some ice on it." McCoy starts over to the next cadet.

"But-"

McCoy sighs and sent a glare to the persistent young man, "There is nothing that can heal you better than your own body, plus a little suffering is good for the soul. Go home."

"I'll complain to your superior officer for the way you treated me."

Leonard snorts, while checking over the next patient, "I don't give a shit, go cry to your momma for all I care."

The cadet jolts up and storms off. Good riddance. The kid he was helping right now has a slight concussion. His skin was an odd color as well, or that could just be that he seems scared shitless of McCoy. The doctor smirks. He pats the kid on the shoulder and then stabs him with a hypo.

"You just have a slight concussion, it should be fine in an hour or so. Just don't drive any machinery, or sleep, or drink . . . in fact, don't do anything for an hour and then you should be fine."

Onto the next patient. It continues for another couple of hours, McCoy's patience was wearing thinner and thinner and by the time all the flight cadets are taken care of, the last ones are practically running away from him. Finally. He only had a couple of hours left in his shift, and then he would go home, drink, and hopefully disappear into oblivion.

At that moment he was being paged. McCoy listens for a second before he figures out where he was being paged to. Intensive Care. Shit.

Like a bat out of hell McCoy shoves anyone who's in his way as he races to the lift. He bursts into his patient's room and doesn't wait for the nurses to even start updating him on the situation. His patient, Evans, was having a seizure. Just as McCoy reaches the bedside, the seizure stops, but so did Evans' heart. Leonard curses and grabs a hypo, jamming it into the dying man's neck.

"Doctor! You don't know what affect that will have with the disease!"

McCoy ignores them, and seeing that the hypo has little affect on his patient, he tries to revive him the old fashion way. He shoves down on Evans' chest, he turns to one of his nurses, "Get the chargers ready, dammit!"

"Chargers are ready."

McCoy lifts the antique instruments, "Ready. Clear."

Nothing.

He does it again. And again. He would've kept doing it, but a nurse pulls at him and takes the chargers away, "That's enough, doctor. He's dead."

McCoy doesn't want to accept that, he couldn't. Evans had a life. A darling old wife and twenty-five children that called him Grandpa. He had a business selling antiques, and was about to receive an award in his town for being an outstanding citizen. He and his wife were going to travel the stars on their next anniversary, since neither had even been to the moon.

"Time of death: the 23rd of May, 2255 at 3 in the afternoon." The words escape out of his mouth, they left without his damn permission. McCoy turns to a nurse, "Record and patch through a line to Evans' wife to my office.

He walks slowly to the office that he shared with a fellow doctor. Thankfully it was empty. This was the hardest part, telling the family. Telling them that they had entrusted this loved ones life to a man that clearly wasn't competent enough to house that trust.

The viewing screen fizzes to life and Mrs. Evans' happy face appears, one look at the doctor though and her face crumbles. McCoy sends his condolences and apologizes: he wasn't good enough.

Afterwards McCoy goes to the break room, he needs something. Coffee, or preferably something with alcohol in it. But he wasn't allowed to drink while on duty, so coffee would have to do. A group of young interns were standing around chatting and laughing. Leonard just goes straight to the replicator.

"Oi, McCoy! Heard you just lost a patient."

Bones clenches onto his cup, he hates Phill with a fiery passion, the stupid intern had the loudest mouth born to man.

"Looks like you're taking it hard, but you shouldn't be so down. That disease is near impossible to cure in humans. Besides," Phill guffaws, "The man was an old gas bag, I think we should be thanking the higher powers that they snuffed out that man's life. He was just a useless human taking up space."

McCoy saw red, and the next thing he recollects is security dragging him off a bloody, unconscious Phill. Upon seeing the mess, sense slams back into the doctor. What the hell did he just do? He had totally lost all control and went haywire. His gut clenches, he was suppose heal not inflict the damage.

Security escorts Bones up towards the administrative offices. To his superior officer no doubt. The door slides shut behind him and McCoy stands there waiting for Corelli to acknowledge him. Leonard goes through the events over and over and over again. While he feels justified in his actions, he knows that this could have a damaging affect on his job, even on his career in Starfleet. Finally Corelli looks up and motions for Bones to take a seat.

He stares at the fidgeting doctor for a minute and then sits back and sighs, "You attacked an intern, McCoy."

"Yes, sir."

"I should just hand you over to the police or the 'Board. But let's analyze this a little bit." Corelli puts his hands together in a steeple, "From my understanding from Captain Pike, you assisted in the attack at Fluter's Bar early this morning and probably saved the Captain's life. Also this morning you had a final, no?"

McCoy nods, "Yes sir."

"How did that go?"

"Not so good sir."

"Now after the final you came to work, exhausted and stressed. All morning you had been helping with an overflow of helmsmen Academy students as well as checking on your patient Evans and searching for a solution to save his life," a pause, "that is, of course, what any outstanding doctor would do. Now, to my knowledge you had created a personal relationship with this patient."

"I do that with all of my personal patients, sir."

"Risky. A doctor could be emotionally compromised becoming so attached to an ailing being. Judgment could've been clouded. It's very unprofessional, in fact."

"Sir, with all do respect, I find that it helps the patient pull through more often than not."

"This is beside the point," Corelli waves a hand, "Your patient died, McCoy. Any doctor would've been affected by this. I understand that Intern Phillus was goading you, and that the two of you have never been on the best of terms." Corelli pauses and looks at the doctor in front of him, "Your reaction to his infantile words says a lot about you. I would commend you if I were any other person, but I run a hospital here, I'm in charge of all these patients as well as my doctors. I am thoroughly ashamed to have you working under me."

McCoy's chest tightens, he would've argued until he was blue in the face, but he knows that it would only have a negative affect on Corelli. So he takes the chastisement like a Christian, and keeps his mouth shut.

"I don't want to see this behavior ever again, I expect you to be in full control of your facilities while under this roof or so help me I will take you out myself. Clear? Good, this is your first and final warning, McCoy. You're on suspension until further notice. Dismissed."

Leonard nods, salutes, and leaves. All things considered, Corelli had let him off the hook. This was a simple slap on the wrist compared to what he could've done. It still sucks to high hell, though. Now he was out of a job for the foreseeable future, and he can't do what every fiber in his being was telling him to do: heal the injured.

McCoy walks the couple of blocks back to campus, trying to collect his thoughts and control his raging emotions. He perks up a little though as he nears his room. There was one good thing that could come out of today: sleeping in his bed, and calling his little girl.

Joanna was actually coming out for the weekend, and McCoy plans on giving his little girl his full attention despite the events of today. He was planning on calling her right away to find out when she would be arriving tomorrow. He can feel his whole attitude brightening at the thought of her.

Until he enters his room. At first he doesn't understand what's going on, only that his things are stuffed in boxes and someone else was unloading their shit on his side of the room. Neither the stranger nor Kyle notices him enter.

"What the hell is this?"

Kyle turns toward McCoy, a big smile growing on his face, "The manager is kicking you out. At least, out of this room. There's some old room at the far end of the dorm that he said you could have."

Leonard's bag hit the floor, "Why the hell is he kicking me out?"

Kyle's grin turns into a smirk, "I complained to him. Said that my roommate was keeping me up at all hours of the night, and that I didn't want to room with you for the rest of my years here. I mean really McCoy, you didn't think that having your little buddy bursting in every night and making all kinds of commotion wouldn't get you kick out? Have some common sense old man." Kyle turns to all his stuff, "Look, I packed it all up for you, ain't I the best? Now take all that shit, and get the hell out of here."

The universe hates him today, McCoy groans as he lifts the last box and treks towards the end of the hallway and down the end of another hallway until he reaches his quarters. The room was dumpy, in fact, it looks like it hasn't been lived in for some years. McCoy had already checked the bathroom and kitchenette: the water only ran in spurts, and few of the lights are actually working. There was dust everywhere; the window was actually caked in it, only letting in minimal light from outside. There was only one bed in here, but was thin and when McCoy had sat on it, the end came crashing down.

Leonard lowers down the box and sighs, he turns to close the door. It whirs for a minute before slowly starting to close, and then stopping halfway, Bones looks at it in disbelief. Even his damn door was broken! How the hell was he going to have privacy when the door wouldn't even close?! He looks around for something, and then spots the moth eaten sheet that covers his bed. He swipes it and walks up to the door. Pulling out some nails from his medical kit, he proceeds to hammer the nails into sheet across the door frame with his PADD.

Sighing, he looks around once more. He would unpack later, he decides, right now he needs to call Joanna, seeing her face would make him forget where he was. Hopefully the view screen was working. And after wiping the grit off the screen and hitting it a few times, the line patches through.

"Daddy!" Joanna's sweet little six-year-old face was beaming, little dimples popping up on those little cheeks. Damn, McCoy loves his daughter so much. She was the epitome of everything good in his life.

"Darlin'! Hey sweetheart, how you doin'?"

Joanna was practically jumping up and down as she regaled her father with her latest adventures at school and at home. They chat for awhile until the child calms down to a point.

"So what do you want to do while you're hanging out with your old man this weekend?" Leonard practically has his face touching the screen, if only he could hold her in his arms this very second!

"Oh! I want to go shopping, and the movies, and the zoo! And-and I want to go fishing! I haven't gone fishing in forever. I miss fishing with you dad."

"I know sweetheart, I know. We'll do all those things and more, now, what time is your mother putting you on the shuttle?"

Joanna was about to reply when she looks up at a noise in the background, she makes a face and turns back to her dad, "Mother says she wants to talk to you daddy."

"Well, you better let her then. I'll see you tomorrow, darlin'. I love you, Joanna."

"I love you too, Daddy."

As the face of his little angel disappears, the face of Jocelyn appears. She still looks as beautiful as ever, and damn if it feels as if a knife was plunging into his heart as Leonard greets his ex-wife.

"When are you putting Joanna on the shuttle tomorrow, Jocelyn?"

"I'm not."

The world seems to stop, McCoy shakes his head, "What?"

"I'm not letting her come visit you Leonard. I still don't feel safe letting her around you, especially alone. No, I'm going to take her to France with me this weekend, she'll absolutely adore it."

"No, no, no. Jocelyn, you can't do this to me, you promised I could see my little girl this weekend. The courts decided to allow that privilege, remember? I get to see my little girl."

"Only if I deem fit, Leonard. And I just don't feel right leaving her with you as I go off to France. No, I'm sorry Leonard, but Joanna isn't coming this weekend. Have a nice day."

McCoy stares at the blank screen. This couldn't be happening. McCoy grabs his hair and screams. What was with today?! Nothing went right today, everything just kept getting worse and worse and . . . dammit! Dammit it all to hell! Leonard doesn't even feel like sleeping anymore, he is just so angry. The universe hates him! And he hates the universe.

McCoy digs through his boxes, flinging things here and there, finally he finds his prized bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. He was going to sit here on this broken bed, breathe in the dusty, mildewy air, and get shit-faced drunk.

When it comes right down to it, McCoy wasn't really mad at anyone, no that wasn't right, he was mad at only one person: himself. He has only himself to blame for all the events of today. And that was the truth. So with that he silently salutes the universe and tips the bottle back.

Bone doesn't know how much time has passed, but he does know that someone has just walked in and turned on the lights, or at least, the ones that are kind of working. Which really pisses him off because the lights are killing his eyes. Grudgingly he lifts his head to see who the intruder was.

Jim was just standing there, looking at him. There might have been some sadness in his eyes, but it was gone before the doctor could really focus. McCoy snorts and motions for Jim to take a seat on the slanted bed next to him. Jim rubs the back of his neck and looks slightly sheepish, he doesn't move from his spot.

"I'm sorry."

McCoy's eyebrow shoots up, "The hell are you sorry for?"

"For getting you kicked out of your room." Jim looks around, his mouth twitching up a little, "This place looks like shit."

"It is shit."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault, Jim."

"Yeah it is, if I hadn't of kept barging in every night this year, Kyle wouldn't have any reason to kick you out."

McCoy motions for Jim to join him again, this time the kid accepts. The doctor offers his bottle to the kid, but then realizes it was already empty. Disgruntled he tosses the bottle aside and it lands with a nice crash. Jim keeps looking at him, while trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed.

"Kid, I should be thanking you for pissing Kyle off so much. I think I would've left anyway, sooner or later."

Jim doesn't look like he was biting it, but he shrugs and starts grinning, "It took me forever to find this room. I didn't even know there was a room this far back in the building."

"You and me both."

"You know, this could be a pretty nice dig." Jim was calculating, "Hey, Bones."

Leonard grunts.

"Do you mind if I move in with you?"

McCoy snorts, "Why the hell would you willing choose to live here?"

"Well, once it's cleaned up a bit and fixed, it would be perfect."

"I don't care, do whatever you want."

Jim jumps up, "Awesome! Bones, this is going to be the greatest, now I don't have to come barging in on you, since it will just be my room too." He starts walking towards the door, "Let me go get my stuff . . . Oh hey! Joanna's coming tomorrow, right? I can't wait to see your little girl."

McCoy growls and flips around, maybe Jim would just shut up and leave him the hell alone.

There are some tentative steps, "Bones, Joanna is coming this weekend right?"

"Why the hell do you think I'm drunk, Jim? Because I was kicked out my room today? Because I failed my hardest class? Because I'm suspended from work? Hell, no."

Jim sits back down on the mattress, "That bitch. Jocelyn isn't letting you see Joanna?"

"No."

"She has to right? The court's allowing you visiting rights."

"Only if she sees fit to let me see Joanna. Something about a mother's intuition or something."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

Jim jumps a little bit, "Wait, what did you just say about your class and work?"

McCoy lifts his head and stares drunkenly at his friend, "I said that I failed my class and that I'm suspended from work. Can't you leave me alone, Jim? I'm exhausted."

"Why, didn't you get any sleep?"

"Dammit Jim, no I didn't. I was so tired this morning I couldn't remember anything I had studied this week. Teacher told me I had gotten the worst score she had ever seen in her life. And then it was straight to work where I had to assist in some cadet flight accident, and where my patient just up and died. Then I attacked an intern, and now I'm on suspension. Now leave me the hell alone, I'm tired."

Jim just sits there, "You attacked an intern?"

"Little snot totally deserved it."

Leonard was slowly falling asleep, Jim just keeps on sitting there. Finally he gets up and turns down the lights, McCoy watches his blurred outline disappear behind the sheet. It wasn't long until darkness finally came to claim him in sweet oblivion.