Chapter 58- Code Blue

Peter caught Nathan's 'please kill me' look and smirked. He had seen that look many times during his parent's black tie soirees that he and his brother were often commanded to attend upon pain of being cut out of the will. Not that Peter ever really cared about the family fortune, he always felt as though he should make his own way in life anyway, but he did feel obligated to keep his brother's sanity intact as best he could by suffering alongside him. Misery truly did love company and he had all he could handle sitting right next to him.

"I can't believe this." McCoy grumbled into his whiskey as he leaned on the bar. "This is the last thing I saw myself doing today. I'm a doctor dammit, not a babysitter."

"We do appreciate the guidance." Mohinder smiled. Peter chuckled because he knew Mohinder was being sensibly argumentative in his uniquely colonial British way: he was directly giving McCoy a proverbial middle finger for the insult without being obvious about it. What was funnier was McCoy didn't get it.

"Yeah well I guess it could be worse. For once Jim didn't get us into some impossible situation that we have to fight our way out of. Sitting at a bar drinking isn't the worst assignment I've ever had. Speaking of, are you going to drink up or what, kid?"

Peter glanced down at the shot glass he had been holding since he got there. All he remembered was that the name contained "blood" and as a nurse and paramedic he knew to avoid ingesting things like that. The things humans carried around in their bodies was bad enough and he couldn't begin to guess what Klingons might be harboring. He wasn't exactly a germaphobe, but he saw no need in being reckless either. He might have shrugged it off as a colorful description to sell to an exotic clientele except for the fact that the contents were indeed dark red and a bit more viscous than alcohol should be. "I don't know…"

"Why not?" McCoy shrugged. "It's not like it's gonna hurt you or anything."

There was something playful in the doctor's smile that gave Peter pause, but he was right. Warily he threw it back and tried not to gag while McCoy laughed. "God!" He choked slamming the empty glass down on the bar, "That tastes awful! What the hell was it?"

"Bloodwine." McCoy chuckled. "Think of it as a local delicacy."

"To each their own I guess." Mohinder said watching Peter's reaction. He was glad he didn't have the same.

McCoy was still laughing when the bartender brought another round and set it down in front of Peter with a curious glare. Peter wasn't sure what the mistrustful look was all about, but he did get the distinct impression that he should take it and not argue. Although he was dreading the metallic iron tang of the blood component, he drained the glass and handed it back to the bartender trying his best not to look like he was going to vomit. The bartender looked incredulous and Peter chanced a peek into his head to see why: humans were not supposed to handle the strong drink, let alone two consecutive servings. Just as Peter began to panic, the bartender held up the empty glass in a salute of admiration and returned to his patrons.

"Is that stuff supposed to kill us or something?" He asked his handler a bit irritated. "Don't do me any more favors."

McCoy smirked and signaled for another whiskey before he even finished his first. "Easy, kid. I knew it wouldn't hurt you, that's why I didn't order one for Dr. Suresh. One nip and he'd be stone cold out under the bar in no time."

"That would be embarrassing, thank you for your kindness." Mohinder smiled. Another middle finger…

"No problem. Besides, now you have their respect and you never know when that might come in handy."

"Thanks." Peter muttered bitterly. He couldn't get the taste out of his mouth and he wondered if having their respect was really worth it. He was all for getting along with other people and being tolerant of other customs and beliefs, but even he had limits.

"So, Dr. McCoy, what is it like to be a doctor on a spaceship?" Mohinder asked excitedly. "I imagine you have seen many wondrous things."

McCoy scoffed as he glanced sideways. "It's not as magical as you think. I have seen more deadly disease and death than the Grim Reaper. I watched an entire planet explode and nearly wipe out a whole race of people. It's not for the faint of heart, I'll tell you that."

"How does a planet explode?" Peter asked somewhat horrified. "I'm not a cosmologist, but I didn't think that kind of thing just happened."

"Well, it does if you create a black hole in it." He grumbled staring miserably into his empty glass. "In an instant nearly six billion lives were snuffed out and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. Not that you can tell, but Spock still carries some scars from it. Christ, who wouldn't after watching your home and everyone you knew get vaporized?"

"I haven't known Mr. Spock for long, but he does seem to be a peaceful man and if he is a representation of his people I assume they were as well. Who would do such a thing?" Mohinder asked.

"Romulans."

Peter sat back stunned. The little time he spent on the mining planet was enough to convince him that they were capable of such a thing, but now it was all starting to make sense. "Which is why he was able to trade himself for an entire ship of Klingons. But why would he put himself in danger like that?"

"Because he is a logical bastard. To him it was all a numbers game."

"Perhaps we should take him to Vegas." Mohinder laughed. "I could win at something other than slots."

"You know your best odds are at Blackjack." McCoy gently chided. "Slots are for retirees and bored housewives. Anyway, what's more interesting to me is what it was like for you to be in medicine back when it was all barbaric."

"It wasn't like I had to rub two sticks together to make a fire to cauterize a wound on the spot." Peter defended. "We didn't have all the gadgetry you do, but we got by."

"Obviously. I wouldn't be in my job if you didn't, but it couldn't have been easy to scrape up what remained of a person and try to put them back together by hand after they got obliterated by a car wreck."

"It isn't, but I still try. On a good day you might only lose one or two."

"Did you ever cheat a little?" McCoy almost whispered. "You know, use your powers in some way to tip the balance?"

Peter's eyes fell to the floor and he slowly nodded. "Yeah. I know it's not fair to everyone else, but if I can't use my abilities to help others, why do I have them?"

"I would if I had them." Mohinder interjected. "Why indeed if they cannot be used for the good of humanity? One could use them in a predatory fashion as Sylar does, but he is building up a lot of bad karma in my opinion."

"Doesn't a person have to die and go on to the next life to get rid of that bad karma?" McCoy asked perplexed. "If that's true, he has a very long wait and at the rate he's going I don't think he's too worried about it."

"Not necessarily." Mohinder corrected. "Ever hear of instant karma? His ill deeds can come back to haunt him yet in this life and I believe they will."

"Jesus, I must have been a real asshole in my past life then to get saddled by the ex as retribution." McCoy mused. "That whole karma thing really is a bitch."

Mohinder gave a knowing smile and said, "Perhaps, but you will be a batter person for it. The past is behind you and hopefully you have learned your lesson. All there is to do is to look to the future and try to be a better man."

"Easier said than done." McCoy mumbled.

"Yes, that is the point of it all." Mohinder chuckled. "If it were that easy we would have all attained Samsara by now as perfect beings. Life by necessity must struggle to move forward in pursuit of perfection."

"Damn if you don't make suffering sound downright noble." McCoy saluted with his whiskey. "I should keep you around the sickbay to remind the nurses that I am singlehandedly making them all better people one meaningless assignment at a time."

Peter couldn't contain his laughter. He had been there and done that as a nurse. He knew firsthand what it was like to massage the doctor's egos when in reality it was the nurses who ran the joint, and it seemed that nothing had changed in all the time that had passed since his early days as an intern at a county hospital. "You know they are secretly plotting your death, right?" He asked with a smile. "I wouldn't get them too riled up or you might regret it."

"I figure every day I'm on the ship in the middle of nothingness waiting to be attacked or thrown into some improbable situation like this one is flirting with disaster anyway, so why not add just a little more excitement and danger?" He took a look at Peter and added, "Speaking of flirting, Nurse Chapel seems to have a thing for you."

Peter was a bit uncomfortable with the subject. "Yeah." He sighed noncommittally. "I'm sure she's a nice person and all…"

"But not your shot of bourbon?" McCoy guessed. "I think it's just a crush. Don't tell anyone, but I think she really has a hankerin' for that pointy eared bastard- don't ask me why."

"Mr. Spock?" Mohinder asked raising his eyebrows. "Is that even genetically possible? I mean, are human and…"

"Vulcan." McCoy supplied.

"Yes, Vulcan genes compatible? Not that it's any of my business, but from a scientific view, of course."

"Yeah, it's possible. Spock's half human anyway. The first Human/Vulcan hybrid I know of so from a 'scientific view' it's no problem.

"What about Klingons or Romulans?" Mohinder went on in wonder. "The human genome is so specific that our closest neighbor the chimpanzee isn't compatible with our DNA. It is doubtful that even our ancestors the Neanderthals were and they were humanoids."

McCoy nodded in appreciation. The man truly did love his work. "Genes are a little more flexible than you think and not as unique as you assume. I think the evolved humans are proof of concept here."

"Point taken." Mohinder said graciously.

Peter was still trying to get the bad taste out of his mouth when he momentarily caught sight of Claire talking with Uhura. While he had no reason to believe that the linguist couldn't defend herself or protect Claire- she was after all an officer in what amounted to the military- he still felt a need to watch over his niece. Blood was always thicker than water as the awful taste that lingered in his mouth reminded him.