McCoy hated Ron's youngest kid. Even before meeting up with the brat, he came to the realisation that no child who was disrespectful towards their own parents was worthy of any praise. Regardless of how relaxed and happy Ron appeared in the aspect of the two of them getting together and bonding, McCoy was not so sure about actually getting along with him. Not to mention having to endure a ten-day long ship voyage across the Atlantic Ocean just to reach the kid's location. He really had to get back at the little brat for this stunt, if he managed to survive the trip to Boston.
The October air was not helping either. Sun was hidden behind the clouds, the wind was picking up and the wooden plates in and around the harbour were shaking with the force of the waves hitting at the ships docked. The sky was two seconds away from cracking up and pouring down. It all suited well for McCoy's mood. He could have been back at home with Ron enjoying this ridiculous weather, sipping their bourbons together and laughing away carelessly. Instead, he was being forced to wait outside on the planks, while the line to get into the steamboat ship was moving at a snail's pace. He hated the fact that he wanted to bolt and return to Ron's place as much as he wanted to get into the ship as soon as possible and be done with the whole ordeal.
Ron had accompanied him to the docks to see him off, and to marvel at the steamship S.S. Catalonia, freshly renovated and ready to take off on another voyage after a whole year. The man was very easy to impress where the boat was concerned but McCoy had found himself wishing for a more efficient, fast and secure transportation vehicle. Regardless of his doubts, McCoy could see the reason behind Roy's childish joy at seeing the steamship. It was long enough with three masts and one tall smokestack right in the middle. It was also large enough in bulk that it was steady against the winds more than the other ships in the harbour and McCoy held onto that fact, that it was slightly sturdier than others, like a lifeline. Still, he didn't feel like he belonged to that ship. Then again, he thought, no one should have to belong to any form of a shaky death trap which threatened to break down at the first sight of a storm.
He found himself imagining a bigger, shinier boat with grey painted exterior. Her inner corridors spacious and well lit. He wished to see a captain, young and confident, at the helm with a more than capable crew at his back; his smile so bright that it could even dazzle the stars up above and below. He could almost see a couple of blue eyes boring holes into his soul, and he would be attracted to them, being drawn to the man as if he had no say in it.
McCoy had to shake his head before his imagination could get the better of him. He returned back to the reality of the situation and hoped they would get on with the boarding already and leave the harbour before those giant, dark clouds could reach them. Luck was not on his side, though. It had been an hour since Ron left and the wind started to shift from mildly annoying to downright dangerous and they were still docked in the harbour, waiting to get seated. The real captain, an old white-haired man in a blue sweater, which presented a somewhat wrong image to McCoy, was shaking the hands of his first class passengers as they boarded the ship one by one. He had the urge to smack the Captain on the back of the neck and yell at him to hurry it up. Since he couldn't abuse the Captain, he settled on mumbling profanities at the weather and the ship under his breath.
"You know, these things are pretty safe. You are boring holes into the hull of the ship with your eyes but it is built to stand a little bit of rain" came a comment from a stranger who stood behind him. It took everything in McCoy to not to jump at the sudden voice. He refused to turn around and indulge the man with the deep voice who was standing way too close to McCoy for his liking.
"Sorry, you said something?" he retorted back, his heart still in his throat.
"S.S. Catalonia has completed successful voyages since 1881, she is capable of holding close to two thousand people, passengers and crew together. She'll hold up just fine in the Atlantic!"
"I'll believe it when I land my two feet on the solid ground on the other side of the ocean," he grumbled, "It's a disaster waiting to happen!"
"I hate to break it to you, but you'll be spending the next few days on that ship. You better lighten up before you jinx it."
"You know there are fates worse than death. Nevermind that, I'll tell you something about jinxes, kid," McCoy started and couldn't help himself but to turn around in order to properly relay his thoughts on the matter. It would be an underestimation to say that he was surprised to come face to face with two hauntingly beautiful eyes and a radiant smile, almost as if it was an image out of a dream. McCoy gulped at the sight of the young looking, blond man who was standing way closer than he had originally thought. McCoy took a step backwards and took in the appearance of the man, masking his gaze as a glare. He wore a well-pressed suit, a white shirt with a few buttons open and a loose vest which suited him well enough. The mask he put on failed as the man's smile grew wider and McCoy's brow raised as high as it can get on his forehead.
The blond man stood still as McCoy finished his inspection, and observed the doctor with a knowing smirk. "Would you mind taking a step back? You are crowding me," McCoy gritted out, trying to keep it civilised between them.
"Ah, next you are going to say you are not glad to see me at all!" The blond man sighed mockingly. McCoy simply feared for his mental stability.
"Sorry, have we met?" he asked. After all, he was the one with the certified head injury and a recovering amnesiac. If they had met before the accident, it wouldn't be McCoy who could recognise old friends. His suspicions were confirmed when he witnessed the hurt and the pained expression spread on the blond man's handsome face. McCoy scowled himself for thinking him as handsome, but it's not like he could help himself.
"You don't... I'm... What the hell?" the man stuttered spectacularly and McCoy watched as a million different emotions flashed on his face, his mimics becoming erratic and unpredictable as if the man was unable to stand still for two seconds. He decided to end his pitiful suffering and explain the reason why he couldn't remember jack shit.
"Don't take it personally, kid. I had an accident and had my memory wiped clean. So it's natural that I can't recognise you at all. Hell, I don't even remember my first name. So, if you know me then, by all means, help a guy out and introduce yourself, why don't you?"
"I... I see," the man replied with an apparently broken heart. McCoy wondered what kind of a relationship he had with him. "I'm Jim and you are Dr McCoy, right? From Ross' class. I had listened to your lecture a month ago. I guess it was presumptuous of me to think you would have remembered one of the students." That was sort of a disappointment, McCoy thought, it would have been nice to have someone hand over to him the answers he was looking for without having to try too much. But, it all turned out to be wishful thinking.
Yet, there was something eye catching about the man, Jim, and McCoy was certain there was a secret he was hiding from him. "I don't recall seeing you there, " he said with a solemn look, "Wait, you weren't that asshole who questioned my integrity, were you?"
"No." was the stern reply, but McCoy wasn't having any of it. Jim's face screamed of lies and bullshit.
"Did you bribe him to do so?" the doctor guessed and Jim turned pink.
"What? No, what makes you say that?"
"You just have the face, kid."
"No, I didn't bribe him. I'm not that low. I dared him to do it," he said while looking offended.
"Oh, so you are annoying and cheap. Good to know!"
"That hurts!" Jim whined and McCoy smiled briefly at his triumph.
"Why, though?" he asked as curiosity got the better of him. Jim was thoughtful for a moment. The line to the ship moved forward, breaking McCoy's concentration on the man. When he looked back, Jim was ready with an answer.
"Well, honestly, I am saying this because you are not a paid academic of the university, so keep it a secret but I wasn't really supposed to be there. I just got into to take notes for a friend. This asshole next to me had heard rumours about you apparently and I might have told him to take it up with you directly rather than bitch about it behind your back" That answer was surprising, flattering, diminishing and agonisingly honest all at one once. McCoy was not going to take offence on the rumours circulating himself, but he felt a pang of guilt that those same rumours were possibly inconveniencing Ron as well. He knew they existed, but he truly hadn't known there were students petty enough to try to tarnish a troubled man's name.
"Bitch about it?" he repeated after recovering from his daze.
"So to speak!" Jim said and forced a laugh out. McCoy only raised a perfect eyebrow at his expense. There was something captivating and odd about the man and McCoy wondered what it could be in the silence that followed.
A particularly strong wind blew his coat open and McCoy cursed, regaining his bearings in the mean time. "Thank you for sticking your neck out for me, then. I'll return the favour and keep your presence a secret. Just don't make a habit of it, I don't want Ron getting caught up in a mess that isn't his. He is a good man."
"Okey, I can do that," Jim promised with that bright smile of his and McCoy believed him.
"How did you like the lecture, then? I mean, did you even understand it? The medical track is not meant for everybody."
"Oh, it was gruesome. I lost my lunch and breakfast. Luckily, I am good at remembering the details so all notes are complete."
"I guess the real lucky guy is the one whom you took the notes for." McCoy laughed and was rendered speechless as he realised that he was smiling in the middle of an upcoming storm, about to board a tin can of a ship and half of him soaking wet because of the waves from the ocean. He decided to keep that revelation to himself for something in his gut told him that it would be a mistake to admit talking with Jim was actually making him feel better "What do you major in?"
"Oh, I graduated from my course more than two years ago. I was simply helping out a friend in need, you know. I am just that nice of a guy."
"I bet you are," McCoy replied sarcastically, then lowered his voice down a tone "Well, that's good of you to help out friends but don't help them too much. He won't learn anything on his own unless he attends the classes himself. I am personally not looking forward to students puking all over cadavers in the exam just 'cause they weren't there in the class to figure out they are not meant for medical school." McCoy became aware that he sounded like Ron and visibly winced at the aspect of turning into a nagging academician. He must not have liked his previous academic life since he subconsciously flinched at just the idea itself.
"Yes, I understand, but don't speak like you are way too older than me, man, " he said cheekily "We have what five, six years between us?"
"It's enough that you'll address me properly, Jim. Either as doctor or McCoy."
"If you wish to feel all the years of your age, then okay. As you wish, Dr McCoy," Jim replied and McCoy could feel a growing tension as they approached the captain. He decided to lighten the mood with starting a new topic of conversation himself. Ron would be so proud of him.
"You don't sound like you are from around here or anywhere in northern England. And I don't just mean the accent."
"Oh?" Jim looked just as surprised as Ron would have.
"Yeah, I can understand you for one thing. I might be living amongst the fine gentlemen of Liverpool, but well, let's say getting along with them and actually understanding a word they are saying are two different things. Speaking of which-" They had approached the end of the line and the Captain was smiling politely at the two of them. McCoy presented his documents and reached out to shake the old man's hand with a firm grasp before coming to a halt at the top of the gangway, looking warily up the ship hull at the other end of it. Grimacing on the aspect of entering the boat which was, in reality, a rather well-built steamship did weird things to McCoy's stomach. There were a few people climbing it up still, but as the wind blew stronger and the gangway swayed dangerously, McCoy found himself unable to move forward.
"Hey," Jim called out "I'm right behind you, McCoy. Don't divert your eyes from the top, and don't look down, alright? I got you."
"I don't need..." McCoy started, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Even the ship captain had a sympathetic smile directed at him. He had no choice but to clinch to the railings and pray to whatever God he could think of.
The walk upwards was slow and McCoy could imagine the exasperated sighs thrown at him from behind the line. The gangway threatened to give under his feet and he wasn't sure whether he was making that up or not. Unlike the weather, the warm hand placed at the small of his back helped him focus. He could feel the large hand caressing his skin over his coat with a kind manner so he had something to hold on to. Despite the fear bubbling inside, he kept his gaze glued to his target. He was shaking, god damn him, he knew, but he was going to make it to the top.
What felt like an hour later, he stepped onto the metal hull and let out a tired breath.
"I hate this," he whispered to himself and he was surprised when he heard a reply from Jim.
"I know... I mean, I can read it on your face, Doctor. I bet you get seasick, too!"
"Hey, if you are going to mock me then do so on the furthest side of the ship."
"No, no of course not, but they say that the best way to get rid of seasickness to remain hydrated, to get plenty of fresh air and to stand in the centre of the ship to ease your balance," Jim explained with kindness and McCoy found himself intently listening.
"I appreciate the tip, Jim," He said and took one quick look around. The wind picked up and the scents of the ocean and the fish-filled his nostrils. He felt dizzy for a moment, and not wanting to ridicule himself further, McCoy turned towards the corridor leading further into the ship.
"I'll see you around, yes?" Jim yelled from behind him. It was a miracle that McCoy heard anything but the echo in his head and the howling of the winds. He replied with a hand up in the air, acknowledging Jim and disappearing quickly into the ship. A guiding hand that wasn't Jim's assisted him towards his cabin and although he was grateful for it, he also was disappointed that it wasn't a hand as warm as Jim's.