The threat is gone or never really existed if everyone's gentle whispers and words of supposed comfort are anything to believe. McCoy can't bring himself to care much either way. He knows medical protocol and worse he knows the feeling of the light sedative weighing him down; not enough to knock him out, just enough to take the edge off and make him pliant. He'd glare and scowl at the staff as they flutter out of the room but it takes too much energy. He's pretty sure his resting bitch face gets the point across quite eloquently though. If that wasn't enough of a signal, turning his back towards the door and curling into his pillow is definitely screaming fuck off.

McCoy lets out a huff that gets buried under the sound of wheels rolling across the floor. Even though M'Benga rolls his chair into Leonard's eye line, McCoy looks anywhere besides his colleague.

"Do you feel up to talking about what happened?" asks M'Benga with cautious optimism. He can treat physical symptoms all day long but without insight into McCoy's mental state he can't begin to piece his friend and colleague back together.

"No." Even the bitterness in McCoy's own voice makes him flinch. He doesn't want a well meaning conversation by someone that wants to help and understand. He doesn't want to be analyzed or have his condition explained to him; he's got it figured out, thanks, and the rest he could take a good professional guess about too. He's burdened with the medical knowledge that applies to someone having survived the hell he's be plucked from and now has the dismay of applying that knowledge first hand.

M'Benga glances over the PADD in his hand, consulting the file on his patient. "I know the results of what happened and can make some pretty educated guesses as to the how of everything, but we need you to fill in the who and whys."

McCoy rolls his eyes. Everyone wants to know but they don't really. He knows Geoff means well but he's played this game from M'Benga's end many times before. If he's gained anything, it's a healthy understanding of just what a pain in the ass people in his former position are to where he is now. "Nothing personal, Geoff, but I have little desire to rehash the particulars of what it was like to have those perversions cut into me." He lived it once and that was enough. He started to open up to Jim and look how that turned out. Right now, forgetting seems the only viable option. "As to the why's, that's what those twisted sons of bitches do for thrills over there, so I'm good on the share and care."

M'Benga doesn't flinch in the face of McCoy's hostility, just writes a couple of notes in Leonard's file like the competent professional Leonard knows him to be. "You're going to have to talk about it eventually, Leonard. You yourself would recommend counselling if our situations were reversed.

"Knowin' I need to talk about it and actually talkin' about it are two different things."

"True. But being an officer means you have to discuss it sooner or later. It might be easier to do it sooner." They both know if Leonard wants to continue to not only serve but practice medicine with Starfleet he needs certification that he's physically and mentally capable to be back at his post. Without a councillor's approval of his psych evaluation he's never getting off medical leave. There's also the dreaded debrief that comes with the privilege of this unwanted away mission. "We also need to discuss treatment, particularly for your hand."

McCoy knows there's damage there even if he hasn't seen his own medical chart yet. Sulu tried to cut his damn finger off and Spock hardly has any medical training, even if he wanted to do more than just stop the bleeding to keep Leonard alive. It's a parting gift from the mirror universe that could derail any shot he has at getting his life back here but what's worse, Leonard can't picture himself wanting it back. It was the only thing keeping him going over there and now that he's on the other side of it, he just feels like a stranger in his own life. He's become a square peg that won't fit into the round hole of this universe.

"Just give me the damn report and I'll fill it in myself. Give Starfleet every gory detail they're lookin for," bites McCoy, because if Starfleet wants details about what happened, he give them every damn dirty detail. He'll layout the script for a horror movie dripping with so much spilled blood it will stain the page. Maybe once the vultures have had their fill of this satanic peepshow they'll all leave him alone. He just needs everyone to leave him alone and let him rot in peace.

"I think writing an official report can wait a bit," M'Benga cautions. "It wouldn't be valid right now because of the sedative and the post op drugs."

"Right," sighs McCoy and there's so much defeat in his voice it makes him want to cry. Geoff explains with tight restraint what he and his team had to do to get Leonard to this pint before prattling on about the schedule of surgeries and treatments they have lined up to erase the damage to Leonard's hand. McCoy's not really listening. His good hand shakes at the thought of having to perform surgery. What kind of doctor trembles at the sight of blood? Not one with much of a career to go back to, that's who; assuming the cards fall in his favor and he gets his damaged hand back to one hundred percent.

"You're still trapped, you know," says Kirk with that self-satisfied 'I'm a genius and I know it' looks upon his face. There's something about him leaning casually in the corner of the room that makes him look smugger.

Leonard will admit, Jim often has things figured out, long before the rest of them even start to realize what's going on, so he isn't surprised Jim's come to the same conclusion that's been tumbling around the back of McCoy's mind. There's the straight up fear that this is all some allusion or delusion between torture sessions and he's right back on that corrupt version of the Enterprise; the last place Spock warned him to be. Even if he's not, and he's not sure he can ever be really sure he isn't, his life isn't entirely his own yet. There's medical to deal with, then psych, which could be his jailor for years to come as they work out all the fractures Spock created in his soul. The life he fought so hard to get back to is still out of reach.

"I told you, you should have taken out Spock when you had the chance. Now you're nothing more than a hamster in one of his damned experiments," criticises Kirk like he gave Leonard all the answers to the test and he still managed to fail.

McCoy doesn't have the patience for this; to be bullied by Jim, especially when he's lurking around in that damned gold uniform with the golden sash hanging around his hips. "Go away!"

M'Benga stops talking and purses his lips together. "Alright," he says kindly, like McCoy's direction was aimed at him. "We can talk about this later. You should get some rest now." He pats Leonard gently on the knee as he takes his leave and all McCoy can do is stare dumbly after him before realizing Jim's faded away into nothing.

Perfect. He can add hallucinations from the sedatives to his list of shit he doesn't need right now. McCoy buries his face in his pillow. If there's any kindness left in the universe, it will allow him to smother himself.


Uhura glances around the waiting room and down the hall at the sporadic flow of people moving through. "This isn't the best place for this." Her voice is shaky and when she tilts her head just right, Jim can see the dried tear tracks on her face. She's the consummate professional, always steadfast, yet this has cracked her hard exterior shell.

"Here's fine," insists Jim. It's cold and pissy and not becoming of a captain, but he's run out of energy to keep his feelings about this disaster bottled up. He's not going to leave, to allow Spock and Uhura to coddle him while McCoy's walking a tightrope between reality and insanity.

"Jim," says Spock, softly.

The tone is like a knife in Jim's resolve. Whatever it is, it's bad. And not a bad, raise shields and go to red alert kind of bad, but a we're drowning in quicksand in the giant hole we've found ourselves in sort of way, otherwise they'd just come out and say it. He grinds his molars together and shakes his head firm, yet minutely, as if forcing them to say it here will somehow change the facts and make whatever they know less horrible. And it has to be horrible because life only seems to have two speeds lately: tolerable and horrifying.

Uhura grabs a hold of Kirk's arm and pulls him down the corridor. There's no good place for this but there has to be somewhere better than the middle of the hall outside Leonard's room. Spock follows behind them, a silent sentry to their death march. Jim doesn't want to move, to leave his position in case M'Benga comes looking for him; defeat and trepidation at what dark secret lurks within his officers renders him incapable of holding his position. He once begged Marcus to spare his crew; there's no one to beg or offer himself to in order to make this any better.

Uhura leads them to a supply closet; tight, intimate and devoid of prying eyes. There's no easy way to tell the captain, yet she can't leave him to wander around the minefield without some kind of map. It's in Leonard's best interest, in all their best interests, to lay all cards on the table, she tells herself. She doesn't know if she can get through it without breaking down again but despite Spock's best intentions it will probably sound better coming from her. There's a tiny selfish part that needs to share this so she isn't one of the only ones burdened with this heavy stone of information. Jim isn't even aware she's still holding his hand, which is a firm indicator of how badly this is going to go.

"Scotty and Chekov have figured out the device Dr M'Benga removed from Leonard," she starts and already her throat is becoming tight.

Uhura is being overly gentle with him. Jim's seen this side of her with a few people but never with him. Their whole relationship is based on quiet respect and loud disapproval (mostly of Jim). The last time someone was this gentle with him, he was five on the farm and his mother had to sit him down and tell him a coyote had come in the night and killed the baby lamb he'd taken a shine to. "What... what was it for?" he asks hesitantly. McCoy isn't dead like the lamb, though Jim has a feeling that he'll probably wish he was dead when he finds out what those twisted fucks did to his friend.

Uhura tries to force the words out, to get some sound from her throat. All the words she knows in all the languages and she can't find any to take the sting out of what she needs to say. There are no adequate words of comfort to ease the tear in their souls that this revelation is going to so carelessly punch through.

"It is a device used to inflict pain. Based on the inner workings, it receives a signal from a remote in which the controller can regulate duration and intensity at their discretion. It is our hypothesis that it was inserted under the doctor's collar bone to prevent him from removing it or tampering with it," explains Spock. They are facts like any other yet presenting them to his captain seems more difficult than usual. It seems the doctor's predicament is affecting him as it is the rest of the crew. He makes a mental note to spare some time, sooner, rather than later to meditate on the images he inadvertently saw in McCoy's mind and assess the level of emotional transference that must be interfering with his emotional control.

He hands over the official report compiled from the medical team that worked to put McCoy back together when they brought him home. It's a gruesome report filled with atrocities that highlight the volatile, emotional and illogical nature of their counterparts. Spock can find no logic in the horror visited upon McCoy, not even after learning his counterpart's motivation in the original crime of kidnapping the doctor. The lengths that Spock went to in order to save his Uhura are understandable and perhaps Spock can even sympathise with them, but what followed lacks the symmetry of reason.

The news settles on Jim like a lead weight. Torture isn't new to him, in theory or actuality, but McCoy's a god damn doctor; a healer. He risks everything to help people. He's not like Jim or anyone else in command or security who actively make decisions on occasion that will take lives and cause harm. McCoy would rather die than willingly harm another being. Over there, however, they saw fit to go to these lengths to inflict pain. They cut onto McCoy, beat him bloody, try to mutilate him and apparently they didn't stop there.

The coffee that has been sustaining Jim threatens to make a violent reappearance as he reads line after line. It's all there, simplified on a PADD like it happened to someone else, only it didn't, it happened to Leonard. Even skipping over the medical jargon, it paints a pretty damning picture. There's prognosis on McCoy's hand, a statistical analysis of the probable outcomes of procedures and surgeries that can help restore the damaged nerves that McCoy counts on for dexterity in surgery. He'd been trying very hard to ignore that particular bandaged elephant in the room but it's hard to ignore that the numbers here don't add up to a one hundred percent guarantee. It's another reminder of just how much he's failed someone he has no right to fail; not after all the faith McCoy's put into him.

"There's more," adds Uhura, knowing the next part will crush Jim the exact same way it crushed her. "I was able to decode the data file Leonard had in his pocket. There was a report he made containing everything he was able to learn over there and his theories about what was going on."

She talks a deep breath to steel herself for the next part. "He also made a vid. Two actually."

Jim's thumb taps the play icon before Uhura can say anymore. The screen lights up with Leonard filling most of it. McCoy fidgets uncomfortably in his seat. There's a long stretch of silence before his friend finds the courage to look right at the camera and say, "Hey baby girl," with forced jubilation. It cuts through the small closet setting Jim on edge. He knows what this is before Leonard can continue. This is McCoy's farewell screaming loud and clear in the confined space between Jim, Uhura and Spock in a supply closet in Yorktown medical tucked safely away from the nightmare that forced such a message.

It feels like an intrusion, a violation, but Jim forces himself to watch, because if McCoy could live it, he sure as hell can witness it.

McCoy clears his throat. "Hey hummin bird," he says gently. "I know you're probably sad right now and I want you to know that's okay. I also need ya to know, you are the best thing I ever did hummin bird and I have never been prouder of all you've done or all you're gonna do. Don't let anything stand in your way baby, cause you are stronger than you could ever imagine, with the biggest heart anyone in this universe could possibly have. I've known that since I first laid eyes on ya. You were so small and perfect. And whatever you do in life, through the good times and the bad, even though you can't see me, I'm with ya baby."

Leonard swipes at the unshed tears stinging his eyes with the back of his hand. "If you need anything, sweetheart, Uncle Jim will help out anyway he can. You're going to be fine. I've never been surer of anything in my life." Leonard looks up at the camera and smiles, large and warm despite the way it pulls at his split lip. "I love you Joanna, always will."

The screen goes black and Jim can't imagine the strength it would take to hand this to Joanna let alone have to be the one to record it. For all his grumblings and cheerful pessimism, McCoy holds on to hope tighter than any of them. For him to make the decision to make a goodbye message for his little princess means the doctor was not only prepared to die but that death was a certainty.

Jim taps to play the second message. If he takes a minute, he won't be able to go through with it. He's a little terrified at what words McCoy would see fit to part him with. The recording starts with McCoy letting out a shaky breath. His edges are rougher this time though.

"Jim, if you got this then maybe there is a shred of humanity here. I've included a basic report of what happened, though knowing you, you probably figured it out already." A sad smile creeps across McCoy's face. "I know it's a crappy way to say good bye and all, but it's all I got. I know you tried your best to rescue you me so don't blame yourself, kid."

Jim swallows hard. McCoy's staring death in the face, taking some of what could have been his last moments to say goodbye to those he holds dear and he's worried about Jim blaming himself? The last person who should be absolving him of his crimes is the one he's sinned the worst against. A universe away, and the guy's still looking out for other people.

"Everyone's gotta lose sometime and it's probably better it's now rather than when the great Captain Kirk is needed to save the galaxy. More important than being Captain Kirk, I want you to know, you Jim, were a great friend. I couldn't have done it without ya. You're gonna do great Jim, just let that pointy eared computer you call a first officer look out for ya every once in awhile."

Jim glances up to look at Spock and Uhura. Spock's as stoic as ever but there's an unease that's set in. Despite the fact that he and McCoy famously don't get along more often than not, they've forged a bond that can withstand their numerous arguments and keep them friends. It's easy to forget that Spock feels when his are the only dry eyes in the room, but it's becoming clear that the Vulcan isn't unaffected by this turn of events. Both he and Jim have lost parents and hearing McCoy say good bye to his little girl resonates in both of them. Spock must be rubbing off on his communications officer, because Uhura is holding it together far better than Jim would have predicted. Her and McCoy have been friends almost as long as McCoy and Jim.

"Just do me one favor, Jim," Leonard starts, the tears coming unbidden now down his bruised face, "can you look out for Joanna me? I know this ain't some small favor and lord knows I haven't been the best example of a parent to her myself but I need my baby to be alright, okay Jim? I need to know she'll have someone to go to."

Jim's the captain of a starship, responsible for some four hundred lives and potential relations between the federation and other species in the universe but he weight of being responsible for one life, one small girl in Georgia is daunting. Who is he to be responsible for a kid? What the hell was McCoy possibly thinking when he made such a request? Of course Jim would do it; he'd do it without being asked, but surely there's someone better that McCoy should want for his little girl.

"Tell the crew... ah hell, I don't know. Make up somethin profound and tell'em I said it. Take care out there, ya hear."

Jim's fingers clench around the edges of the PADD as he stares at the now black screen. McCoy could have died over there, nearly did in their medbay some twenty meters from where Jim's standing now. Leonard was almost taken permanently from his life and all Jim would have left is a recording absolving him of guilt that's rightfully his to bear. Another important person snuffed out of his life and all he'd have is another recording to remember them by.

He wants to drop the PADD, crush it under his boot heel as if to say, 'not today,' to the angel of death lurking on his shoulder. It's wrong, the whole thing. McCoy's not a fly into danger sort of guy, he does that for Jim's sake; he shouldn't have been Spock's pawn.

The PADD finally slips from his fingers, no longer able to hold onto the dirty confession of Leonard's very real mortality. It crashes to the floor in an unsatisfying clatter and Jim raises his hands to wash them of it. He's on autopilot, a seek and destroy mission to show the universe he's far worse than its macabre humor.

"Jim," says Spock, calm and steady, like he can break the spell. He knows his captain too well to not interrupt the war path Jim's about to hurtle himself down.

Uhura begs, "Captain," as he turns to the door that will as his starting gate for destruction.

Jim's fingers fumble with the lock function on the door control panel. He's not in control any more, just a willing passenger on a joyride as something darker, fiercer and protective needs to be exorcised from his being; consequences be damned.

Spock's hand falls heavy on Jim's shoulder as the door finally slides open. It's a desperate attempt to reach out and hold his friend back from the vacuum of anger and despair trying to suck him out like space through an airlock. Reason isn't going to pull Jim back from the brink, it doesn't stand a chance of weathering the emotional storm he's in the middle of, but still, Spock must try. "Jim, please."

The Vulcan's hand is like a lasso around a tornado. The door is open and Jim has to fly but someone is trying to hold him back. Jim's delivering a right hook squarely to Spock's nose before he or Uhura realize he's turned around. The crunch is audible as Spock's head snaps to the side and the more reckless side of Jim should delight in finally getting a hit on his untouchable first officer; sweet retribution for all those hits Jim took during their first mission together to stop Nero, but all he feels is satisfaction of a different kind.

All he can see is another video of Spock carrying a helpless McCoy to certain doom. Spock walked onto this station and plucked Leonard from Kirk's protective reach to ferry him away to unspeakable torment because he wasn't as careful with his own McCoy as he should have been.

It's more the unexpected nature of the punch rather than the force of Kirk's blow that throws off Spock's balance, sending him back into the shelves and then down to the floor. He sits there holding his, no doubt, broken nose; green blood painting his uniform as Uhura fawns over him. The correct course of action fails to come to him. Spock can't allow Jim to hurt anyone else, but denying Kirk his rage will lead to another incident like this and any means to stop Jim could bring harm to his friend.

Jim stares at his fist, the bright green blood splattered over his knuckles, staining his skin and his soul. "I'm sorry, Spock," he chokes out. This isn't his target. This Spock is his friend but the only one in reach. He'd looked right at an officer he'd trust with his life and only saw the monster from the other universe. If he can't tell them apart, what hope does McCoy have?

Jim's anger comes to a boil again. Turning on his heels, he storms into the hall to turn his aggression and fury on something other than his friends.

"Are you alright?" asks Uhura, helping Spock to his feet.

"We must stop him before he does something he cannot take back," insists Spock.

Uhura glances at the door. She can hear exactly what her captain is up to. "Let's get someone to look at you first." The pair make it to the door, Uhura holding Spock's free hand over her shoulder to help steady him even though they both know he could manage on his own. The fact that he's letting her engage in this very emotional human custom is an indulgence that was often missing from their relationship the first time. It warms her heart to see the effort he's putting into their second chance since Altamid but has to wonder the impact that the other universe had on Spock as well.

Jim's destructive war path has pulled the attention of everyone who can spare a moment, so t isn't hard to find someone to tend to Spock's nose. Uhura grabs the first pair of medical clad individuals she sees and passes her charge over. She can't help but watch as they escort Spock to the nearest exam room before turning her attention to Kirk.

She shakes her head at the security team that comes rushing down the corridor. "I'll handle this."

The guards stand down but look unsure as Uhura stands beside them, out of the way as Kirk demolishes carts, chairs and anything else that doesn't stand a chance. She should stop him before the damage becomes too great to explain away. And she will... in a minute. She'll give him a couple more minutes to tire himself out and expel the demons; mostly so they don't have to worry about a repeat and because Uhura really wants to smash something too.