A tall, dark-haired man stood in the middle of a dimmed lecture hall, looking up at the expectant faces of his medical students. He caressed his thin moustache, formulating his next words "Our next subject is concerning the post-mortem anatomy of humans. For this lecture, I have invited my dear friend and an esteemed surgeon from America, Dr McCoy. I am sure you have heard his name in these halls during the past year; His unique methods in the field of medicine have been so efficient that they were deemed revolutionary. Today, he is kind enough to join us and share his expertise on the matter. Doctor?"
"Thank you, Sir Ross," McCoy replied as he stood up from his chair, hidden within the shadows of the hall. He fixed his waistcoat while strolling towards the middle of the platform, where Sir Ronald Ross, a medical genius and an old ship's surgeon, stood. "I wouldn't go as far as to say that. I am a humble country doctor after all."
"A nervous country doctor, Dr McCoy?" Ross murmured as he walked pass McCoy. A small teasing smile was on the man's lips. He was definitely enjoying McCoy's uncertain gaze.
"With such impeccably dressed, sharp young men in the room, how can I not be?" he whispered back. A part of him that wanted to remain unobserved throughout the class was adamant in making his stomach curl into itself, but McCoy's stubbornness in fulfilling a promise to his dear friend, Ross proved to be stronger.
"Good, good," Sir Ross exclaimed "Hear him well, boys. He has a few tricks up his sleeve."
"Thank you for the input," McCoy murmured once more and glanced over the class of 1893, Victoria University, medical students. From dressing to manners, they were said to be the finest of the bunch. McCoy would get to judge that for himself that day. He turned his back to the students to reach out to the sheet behind him. There was already a gloomy atmosphere in the room and it did not improve when the doctor slid the sheet from the table. He could hear the collective gulps from the young men at the reveal of a cadaver but he commended them for not audibly gasping.
"What is death but the beginning of a whole new cycle for what's left of our flesh and bones." he began with a philosophical note and focused on what he did best to ease his nervousness, "The carcass of our bodies being shaped by earth and air around us, no longer abiding by the rules of the living but instead decaying and becoming part of another world entirely. Now, I have heard a lot of good things about your academic successes but being a doctor means being able to get into the thick of it without a moment's hesitation. So who can prove me that what they read in the anatomy books are actually helpful in practice?"
"Dr McCoy!" yelled out a blond student from the back and from the mischievous face he was making, McCoy knew he was going to be trouble.
"Yes, young man? Come down here!"
"Might I ask a question first, sir?" he inquired with a thick voice and an odd accent.
"Yes?" he replied despite knowing what was going to follow.
"Are you really qualified enough to be teaching us, sir? After all, you were not present in any schooling until last year and we don't even know your first name. Sir."
"I'll show you first name!" McCoy mumbled but was able to grit his teeth long enough for Ross to interfere before he could follow up on that particular threat.
"Dr McCoy is a very private man, Mr Cambell. It is his business to do as he wills. His expertise is not up for debate, you have my word on that. You will cease this insolence at once if you wish to continue your studies in this faculty."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," was the meek reply which gave eternal joy and a new found strength to McCoy for continuing his lecture.
,,,,
"That was a lecture they soon won't forget, McCoy. I think you mortified a few of my students into changing their majors" Ross quipped. "I must admit I never thought of death as another beginning myself. You sure you were not writing up stories in there my good man?"
"No, I am certain of what I said. Also, If they can't stomach the truth, then they shouldn't be here, to begin with," The doctor replied and stuffed his notebooks into his leather bound bag.
"You are a cruel man, McCoy. Sometimes I find it hard to believe you could actually be a doctor."
"My bedside manner is not a determinant for the quality of my medical capabilities," He said harshly as they continued down the university hallways. They were out of the stone building of Medical Faculty in mere minutes. For McCoy, the fresh air of Liverpool never felt better after being stuffed in that poorly lit room with a dozen men.
"Perhaps not, but they certainly do not improve your reputation, my dear friend." Ross was silent only for a second, then he fell prey to his own curiosity and brought up that certain subject, again. It would have been too much to ask for a peaceful moment, after all, McCoy thought. "How goes the search for your missing memories, then?"
McCoy let out an exhausted sigh. He hated agreeing with the little brat in the lecture hall, but other than the fate Ross had in him, he wasn't so sure he was qualified to be a doctor. He understood the reason for the people's wariness around him. He had no memories since he had woken up first on a shore unfamiliar to him, surrounded by half-dead bodies. Despite having no idea who he was or where he woke up, he had followed his instincts and had helped anyone and everyone in his reach. Later, he would learn that there had been an incident with a passenger ship, and Ronald Ross had been one of the survivors who hit the shore.
After resuscitating him and some other lucky ones, McCoy had promptly lost consciousness only to regain his senses in a hospital (The ward Ron was responsible for, to be specific). He would have been treated like any other patient with severe amnesia by being sent to the asylum but McCoy was no ordinary man. He was with no past and no substantial evidence to prove his existence but what he had was his magical fingers which seem to act on their own whenever he was faced with a medical dilemma. He had been lucky that Sir Ross hadn't thrown him out when he had started treating other patients in his ward when he was only another patient himself. McCoy had thought it was muscle memory which has been embedded in them through what must have been vigorous practice in the past even though he couldn't recall any of it.
The shine Ross had seen in McCoy had urged the man to keep McCoy nearby and allow him to practice under supervision for the majority of the time after his release. To both his and his supervisor's surprise, he had worked magic on many cases for most of the time and sometimes he was like a fish out of the water. He knew his way around a chemical set up like no other, but one mention of leeches and he was out of his depth. It woke an unbelievable amount of curiosity amongst the good doctors and practitioners in the hospital until Ross decided, one-sidedly, to take him under his wing until he recovered his brilliance. It had been a full year since then and McCoy was no closer to figuring out even his given name.
What was certain that he was a McCoy from a southern city in America, which he could not recall but had the accent to show for it, and he was a goddamn doctor. That was what every bone in his body was telling him and after his year long practice, he was certain of that. He just had to remember the blanks. He didn't want to consider not being able to.
In addition to that, he still felt a grave emptiness in his heart. He couldn't exactly put his finger on what it could be but the vast space was growing each day, pressing McCoy into remembering something that was at the tip of his tongue. Then retreating back until he was furious with himself for letting go of the memory.
"You have gone awfully quiet, doctor," Ross' voice cut his musings short. McCoy gave a pitiful, half smile at his saviour and climbed into to the carrier after the older gentleman.
It was well into their carriage drive that McCoy poured his heart out to his close friend and mentioned his worries. Ross put on a worried face and tried to console him to the best of his abilities.
"My dear man, you must have suffered a horrible ordeal to end up with such great deal of trauma. It may have been a year since our meeting, but do not succumb to desperation. We will figure out your past."
McCoy took a second to search Ross' big blue eyes, one shade too dark, and he could find nothing but sincerity tinged with curiosity. McCoy was fine with that. If curiosity meant, Ross was willing to hold on to a broken thing like himself, then he would gladly accept whatever favour Ross decided to ask him and stare into his soul with those shining orbs he called eyes. He wondered for a moment where that certain fascination came from but with the holes in his memory, he wasn't going to get any answers soon.
"I am really grateful that you welcomed me into your house and even school, Ron but I can't bring myself to hope anymore. I don't know how I would have survived if not for you. So thank you for everything but please, do not worry yourself over my concerns."
"Oh, please, " Ross laughed at McCoy and his formality "You have been a gift to us if I were so bold to say so. Not only you made a name for yourself as 'guardian angel' in the first week in a hospital where you were supposed to be the patient, but also saved my life and many others'. It is the least I can do to make sure you are well fed and clothed. Think nothing of it"
McCoy took his joy for what it was and teased the man, "You are only curious about my past, Sir Ross. An enigma practically gift wrapped and presented to you to solve."
"Indeed, I am," Ross agreed, "You are a mystery alright. And since the greatest detective of our times has passed away, it falls to the rest of us to investigate it. It might as well be me who solves it!"
"Who?" he asked, referring to the deceased.
"Haven't you heard? The great Sherlock Holmes, of course! And what a stomach-turning way to go..." McCoy raised an eyebrow at that. It somehow didn't sound right, but he was in no position to argue that with a strict follower of the detective's adventures. "Speaking of mysteries, my youngest boy wrote to me. It is a miraculous happening"
"Miraculous, indeed," McCoy replied with scepticism. From what he heard of the boy, emphasis on hearing because he hadn't seen him in the year that he was a guest in Ross' home, the boy was a rebel who didn't bother contacting his family other than emergencies. The good for nothing person in the family, so to say. McCoy may never have met the boy, but he didn't like him one bit.
"It was odd to receive a letter from him out of the blue but even odder that he hadn't asked anything from me directly either!" Ross said thoughtfully, not bothered by the harsh way their carriage shook and took turns.
"What did he want, then?" Because not wanting something directly was no better than asking for it bluntly.
"I was wondering how to break it to you. Well, his request involves you, I am afraid. He wants to meet you!"
"Why? What did I do?" McCoy asked, trying to control his stomach.
"I am sure nothing!" Ross chuckled at his defensive answer, "Apparently, he wants to see the person his father is rather taken with. He said he wanted to judge you for himself to see if you are worthy of being our guest."
"That little shit," McCoy swore and caused Ross to laugh harder "Sorry, Ron."
"It's alright, my friend. It is nothing worse than what I already call him."
"Ron, you know I am not after your family fortune or anything like that, right? I am grateful for you and your hospitality. I wouldn't-"
"Easy, McCoy. I know you better than I know my own son which is a pity but also the truth. You are an honest man who doesn't quite know how to trim a beard using a basic razor without nicking himself but was able to cut open a man's chest with mastery. I know your heart, my friend. I have seen it in its darkest state and I know as well as I know my own name that you wouldn't harbour any ill thoughts."
"Thank you" was all McCoy muster after hearing Ross' kind words about him.
"I am not finished yet. You embrace the duty of a doctor like no one else does, McCoy. We will help you to find the answers you seek."
"Physician, heal thyself" McCoy murmured, and laughed as if he told an inside joke.
"Indeed, my friend. Believe in that, if nothing else. Do you agree?"
"I don't think I am experienced enough to debate that sentiment, Ron. Not in this state of mind."
"It's an argument for a rainy day then."
"Agreed," McCoy smiled and returned to the pressing matter at hand "So, well, I don't want to meet your son, no offence. I don't want to get in between the two of you either. What do you think about it?"
"I'll be frank then. Meet him. It will be a good change of pace for you too. You barely got out of the house other than when I dragged you out, McCoy. You have the mind of a genius, but the social capacity of a crocodile. This might be the push you need to help you regain your social graces with people. Visiting your homeland might even jog your memories.
"It will also ease my wife's mind because that brat also wrote to his mother explaining his concerns and basically trapping me into asking you to do this. I am unwilling to let him meddle in with the rest of my affairs and turn all of our family against you." Ron made a strong argument from all sides.
"Well played if you ask me," McCoy replied tiredly.
"Oh, take his side, will you. I'll see what you have to say about him after you have met him" he replied, but his blue eyes were shining with what McCoy could only describe as hope. Whatever his expectancy was of him, probably to befriend the kid and help put him on a righteous path, McCoy feared of failing Ron. He owed him more than just money. A debt greater than that, which was his company, his devoted friendship. He didn't want to disappoint the man. If making Ron happy meant facing off a brat, then so be it.
"I understand. I own you that much," McCoy smiled, "Where and when do I meet him?"
"He is a crafty one. He wishes to meet you in our estate, abroad," McCoy's stomach lurched with that one sentence. " In Boston. I fear you will have to take that dreaded trip across the ocean, all the way to the states after all."