Bones glanced up from the patient list on his PADD, having located the name adjacent to the patient ID paired with the hospital bed in front of him. Two, piercing blue eyes drilled into him as McCoy met the patient's eyes.
'J.T...?' he asked the scruffy blonde teenager uncertainly; there was no last name provided and McCoy was unsure of how to address the patient.
The boy continued his disconcerting stare and McCoy began to feel uncomfortable under the stranger's scrutiny. His face remained emotionless and his body stock still, yet a skilled observer would have noticed these actions as the signs of a fighter. Closer observation would have revealed that the teenager's muscles were actually coiled; his body taunt, easily able to spring into action at a moments notice. His face – although expressionless, triggered a sixth sense warning in McCoy's head. Eyes locked in J.T's, McCoy could make out the boy's body in his peripheral vision; it was covered in scars and painfully thin. His hand showed signs of a tardily healed break and scarred wrists hinted that they had been previously restrained.
'My name is Leonard McCoy,' McCoy offered.
Still, the teenager was unresponsive, his eyes triggering danger klaxons in McCoy's head.
'Uh... I'm going to change your medication now,' McCoy continued, indicting to the empty IV.
The teenager kept his eyes trained on McCoy as he approached the medical equipment. When McCoy came within a meter of the boy, his face morphed into an animalistic snarl.
'Get back,' he growled.
McCoy froze; he raised his hands in surrender.
'It's Ok; I don't need to make physical contact with you, I only need to attend to your IV medication,' he explained carefully and clearly.
When the teenager offered no further protest, McCoy cautiously and quickly changed the patient's medication. J.T watched his every move, poised to strike should the volunteer threaten him. Task completed, McCoy quickly backed away from the hospital bed and hurried to another patient who would hopefully be less of a threat to his life. J.T's eyes followed him as he left. McCoy kept his head down as he changed the next patients IV medication. A nearby scoff caused him to glance up from the equipment. A fellow volunteer regarded McCoy with amusement.
'He giving you a hard time, eh?' he jerked his head towards J.T.
McCoy shrugged; even with a room full of strangers, he had a reputation to uphold.
'He's just guarded – most of the patients are,' he said easily.
The volunteer scoffed again.
'Whatever man, that kid is the worst though – real nasty to anyone who gets closer than a meter. Hard to believe he's the teen who saved a dozen or so kids. Boss reckons he was tortured by Kodos – you've you seen his scars, yeah? But he refuses to tell Starfleet his name let alone his identity'.
McCoy allowed himself a quick glance at the teenager he had attended before returning his eyes back to his current patient, no wonder J.T hadn't had any conclusive information on his hospital report. McCoy felt sympathetic for the teenager who had treated him so coldly; it wasn't his fault he had turned out so bitter – it was the grueling ordeal he had experienced, the lives of so many children depending on you for their survival. He sighed. What had the world come to?
Spock watched as his mother drifted to half a dozen beds containing children of similar ages. Obediently, they followed her outside for their afternoon lesson. A young linguistic was invited, as some of the teenagers were not human. Spock trailed behind the group as they walked into a deserted, sunny courtyard. He analyzed the students; they were all male, they were all in their teens and all had expressions of absolute boredom.
Amanda Greyson seated herself on the grass and the teenagers followed suit, facing her as she prepared to begin her lesson. They were all accustomed to her routine and Vulcan son; no one asked useless questions anymore or treated her with distrusting behavior – even J.T, although he kept his distance from the other teenagers and Amanda Greyson. The linguistic sat slightly apart from the group as she was yet to be needed.
'Ok boys, today we'll continue looking at the gravitational lensing and the binary star system to discuss how we would locate a black hole in...'
Most of the teenagers began to nap in the warm, afternoon sun. Spock regarded the blonde haired boy at the back of the group with interest. He too, appeared tiresome but with knowledge – not with boredom. Spock had been observing the human for his last few lessons. He had answered his mother's questions and even corrected her teachings with casual intelligence, though he seemed to pay no heed to her lessons. He was an outsider of the six other boys in his age group, especially because of his icy personality and abnormal number of scars – three Andorian boys had already formed an alliance more so out of the remaining survival instinct that was still active from their recent experience and the fact that they were the only patients of their race residing at this hospital.
His mother abandoned the teenagers briefly to retrieve excess teaching materials and he was instantly confronted without the paternal defense of his mother protecting him.
'Well look who it is – another emotionless Vulcan. What d'you think you're doing here? It's obvious you don't feel bad for any of us. You should go back where you came from! Run off to Vulcan with the other robots'.
Spock regarded the lead Andorian curiously – he could never understand the logic in beginning a senseless argument.
'You're rebuke is incorrect as I am half-human. I cannot run to Vulcan since it is physically impossible and also hypocritical to yourself as Earth is not your native home either'.
Spock's logical reasoning only caused the Andorian to grow angrier and his blue face contorted in rage.
'Don't know how to shut your mouth do we scum? Blind too are you? I guess you haven't noticed my two friends then. Think you can talk back to me now smartass?'
'I am perfectly capable of replying to your taunts. The fact that I am looking directly at you should have already dispelled any doubt you may have about my vision although in ev-'.
Idiot, thought J.T as he rose from his seating position to match the height of the two alien races that had already stood. He stepped in between the two quarreling – or in the Vulcan's case, informing – groups as the lead Andorian crouched slightly to strengthen the tackle he was about to inflict upon the Vulcan.
'Give it up, Gareb,' he snapped at the bigger boy.
Gareb P'Trel glared at the skinny boy defending the Vulcan boy. His hatred for the blue-eyed human was even more so stronger as he had addressed Gareb in his native language – Andorian.
'Get out of my way, human – this fight is for aliens, not you're degraded species,' he sneered.
Uhura slowly stood up, her brow furrowing as her mind raced to decipher the conversation.
'If I'm so degraded, then why don't you fight me instead of the Vulcan?'
'Why don't I just squish you and the Vulcan?'
'You can try,' J.T snarled, his instincts taking over from the time he had protected his kids on Tarsus IV, 'but you'll have to get past me first'.