Chapter 16

It's the final week before departure. Jim's been so busy on the Enterprise, he's chosen to sleep in his cabin. Officially, it's to start breaking his ship in. Unofficially, so he can avoid Leonard and another scene like in his office. He's hopeful some time apart will thaw things. Once Yorktown is in their rear-view mirror, new mission jitters have calmed and everyone has acclimated to being on a ship again, maybe then things will fall back into place. Leonard and Spock are the angels on his shoulder; he can't do this without them. Both of them.

It's a gentle, but persistent beeping, that rouses Jim in the middle of the night. The room's dark and slightly off from what he's become accustomed to the last few months at Yorktown. He fumbles through the darkness, his hand clumsily searching for the source of the noise that dares disturb his much-needed slumber. Eventually his hand latches onto the PADD making all the noise. The light is bright and harsh, burning his eyes as he tries to make the fuzzy information come into focus.

It's a private personal number, not an official call from Starfleet, which eases any sense of emergency that might pry Jim from bed. He taps accept. "Kirk here," he mumbles, voice laced with sleep, his head nestling back on his pillow. His eyes slide shut, unwilling to relinquish sleep. Whoever this is, they better make it good and make it quick.

"Sorry to call you so late, Captain Kirk," apologises a very young sounding voice.

It sends alarm bells ringing in his head. He knows that child's voice.

He shoots up in bed, grabbing the PADD from the nightstand. "Joanna?" he stammers, trying to wrap his sleep addled brain around why Leonard's fourteen-year-old daughter would be calling him at three in the morning. "What's wrong?"

Joanna's in dull pink pajamas with the covers pulled over her head to hide the fact she's making the call; her youthful features softened by the glow of her PADD. She bites her lip, looking hesitant. "Maybe I shouldn't have called. It's really late and you're sleeping. Mom will be madder than a hornet if she finds out. I shouldn't have bothered you." Her hand moves to press the end call button.

"Wait!" cries Jim. It's far too late for her to be up and if she's risking Jocelyn's wrath to call Jim, instead of her father, of all people, it has to be important. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

There's silence for a few moments. She looks anguished, like she's about to rat out her best friend. "I'm worried about Dad."

Jim wants to die a little inside. He's worried too; maybe more so now. In the entire time he's known Leonard, the guy's never let his daughter know anything is wrong. A Bolian crocodile could be eating him alive and Joanna would be none the wiser if they were on a call together. She knows Leonard was injured, that much they couldn't keep from her. Jim had to make that hellish call himself when they came back. He prays she hasn't been made any the wiser as to the horrific details and aftermath that plagues McCoy.

"He won't talk to me," she confesses and the tears start to fall.

Jim lets out a long sigh. Little girls crying isn't in his skill set and he doesn't have a magic pill to make this easier for all of them. "Oh, Jo."

He knows all too well what it's like to see a parent haunted by tragedy and the helplessness at being unable to do anything but watch them be consumed by it. "Sometimes it's hard to talk about these things, especially big, complicated things, with kids. I'm sure he'll work through it and be back to himself in no time. Don't worry, cause he's got me to talk about it with." If only Leonard would talk to him.

"No. He won't take my calls," she corrects.

What little contact Leonard's ex-wife allows him to have with Joanna means the universe to him. There's no conceivable way Leonard wouldn't talk to his daughter. "Are you sure?" Jim asks dumbly. He left Leonard's room in medical several times when he saw a vid call coming through from Joanna. Hell, he'd came back after the call and Leonard said things were good with Joanna. Granted they haven't been spending any time together lately, but Jim just assumed Leonard had continued with his scheduled calls after he was released from medical.

"Yes," says Joanna, in that tone that says all adults are especially stupid. "I call and he just sends a message saying he can't talk now, he's in with his doctor or in therapy and he'll call me when he's done. Only, he never does. And I call at different times with the same result. Something has to be wrong. I can't tell mom or she'll get mad at dad. She won't let me come out there for his next shore leave. You're the only one that can help, Captain Kirk. I just want to talk to my dad," she pleads.

"I'll take care of it, Jo," he promises. "You'll be talking to him very soon."

"Thank you, thank you!" she cries, with a smile that could probably melt even Spock's heart.

"No problem. Now go to bed. It's way too late for little girls to be up. Your father will have my hide if he finds out." Jim winks and Joanna giggles before nodding and signing off the call. He has no idea how he's going to do this, just that he has to.

With his night shot, Jim spends the rest of it trying to come up with a way to get McCoy to take a call from Joanna and figure out why the hell it's an issue to start with. His internal red alert is going off, but Jim can't put his finger on exactly what the danger is.


It feels wrong and icky. Mostly it itches like betrayal. Jim waffles on the idea several times before Nurse Chapel finally lets out a huff and hits the comm button to alert Dr M'Benga he has someone to see him. "Do you have a moment?" asks Jim as M'Benga sticks his head out of his office door.

"Yes, come in, Captain."

Jim glances at the exit one more time before walking into the office. He sits down, adjusting a few times. It just doesn't feel right. Of all the times he's sat in Leonard's office, he's never once felt uncomfortable. It's like the furniture here knows Jim's intentions.

"What can I do for you, Captain?" asks M'Benga when Jim's finally finished fidgeting.

Jim can't seem to voice the words, like saying them out loud will make them true. He swallows but it doesn't make it any easier for the words to pass. "Is it possible…" says Jim, his mouth going painfully dry. "Is it possible to test if someone is from that alternate reality?" Jim cringes at his own question like he's just spoken ill of the dead.

M'Benga frowns, pondering the idea silently in his head until he says, "We ran every conceivable test upon your return and found no evidence to suggest you weren't you. Unfortunately, without a confirmed visitor from that reality to test there's no way to determine if there are any notable differences on a physiological level to determine if someone is from that reality or not. Though based on the reports from the away team and Leonard, I would think there would be irrefutable evidence based on personality and psychology to make an imposter relatively obvious. Why do ask?"

The answer doesn't reassure Jim in the slightest. "Just had this nagging doubt in the back of my mind. If they tried something again, it would be nice to know they're here before they kidnap my CMO."

"I wish I could give you something more definite, Captain."

Jim gives him a watery smile. "I'm sure we'll be fine. I'll let you get back to work." Jim leaves the office, giving Christine a smile as he leaves medical altogether. It's just because they're fighting, he tells himself, that's the only reason he feels uneasy about Leonard. They've had the occasional spat here and there, but never a knock down, drag 'em out, fight like this, the entire time they've known each other. He's not even sure what they're fighting about. Sure there are little points of contention he can list and insults being thrown around but the actual sticking point is lost on Jim.


It's late and Jim's going over some last-minute changes and assignments to his crew roster that's due to be finalized tomorrow in order for the ship to launch. It's weird not having Leonard here to keep him company as they share a ritual drink before the start of a mission. Stranger still, Leonard hasn't made an appearance to argue one way or the other for whether he should be part of the crew and if he's apart of it, what position he wants. Jim hasn't really seen Leonard at all the last few days, being given a wide birth by Leonard. Jim checks the computer logs and has other members of the crew obtain visual conformation daily, because he'll be damned if anyone waltzes onto this station and kidnaps his doctor again.

Jim looks over the medical report again and wonders if he's making a mistake. Jim knows what it's like to spiral, to need a hand to help pull him out of the abyss. He knows Leonard sometimes needs a shove to get through the rough patches. This is just another rough patch that Jim has to drag him through- kicking and screaming, because he's not about to leave a man behind. And if Leonard doesn't have this, what does he have? The bottom of a bottle again? Jocelyn got Earth and now alternate Spock is going to get the Enterprise? Not on Jim's watch.

He lists M'Benga as temporary CMO and Leonard as a shift doctor until he's off medical leave completely. He feels dirty for it, but he can't ignore the medical report nor the job requirements.


Getting everyone moved in and settled on the ship goes smoother than Jim expected. Mostly because Leonard still isn't speaking to him. The only contact they have is curt responses to any official communication Jim sends. Spock's dying to say something, but wisely keeps his mouth shut. Jim's just not ready to declare the friendship dead, even if a chilly winter has set in.

He's going to count silence as a win. It's an improvement over Leonard working against him every step of the way. Jim just wishes Leonard wasn't shutting everyone else out too.

Leonard's assigned quarters are just down the hall from Jim's, by his design. Every trip he makes to his quarters he keeps an eye out for Leonard to no avail. Once they leave the space station, not only will they be leaving the whole sorted affair in their rearview, but the ship's a small place once you can't leave it and Leonard will be forced to make peace or at least bring whatever the underlying issue is to the forefront. Jim's always preferred heated arguments and open hostility as opposed to the cold silent treatment. They just need to get out there and everything will be alright.


This, this is the feeling Jim missed, the one that had been missing until Altamid reminded him he needs to be captaining a starship and not at a desk. Something uncurls in Jim, and he can finally relax.

"We've left Yorktown," declares Sulu.

"Right, Mr Chekov, do you have our course plotted?"

"Yes. We are all set to travel through the nebula," confirms Chekov.

Jim presses the comm button on his arm of his command chair. "Attention crew. We have just left Yorktown and are preparing to resume our original mission of exploring uncharted space." He closes the comm channel, a large smile spreading across his face. "Let's see what's on the other side of that nebula, Sulu."

"Captain," says Uhura, taking a moment to watch Yorktown fade from the view screen, "I have that call for Doctor McCoy."

"Good. Put it through," orders Jim. He taps the comm. button on his chair and clears his voice before announcing ship wide, "Doctor McCoy, you have an urgent communiqué from Starfleet Medical."

Leonard sits up in bed. All the fuss about riding out into the black has never been his thing. Since he's benched on medical leave for the next few weeks, still, he doesn't have to worry about sickbay. He can't imagine what it is that Starfleet Medical would want from him. If anything they should be talking to M'Benga, who's currently tasked with running the show. He opens the channel, prepared to tell whoever it is they have the wrong person when a familiar voice comes over the line.

"Daddy?"


"You son of a bitch!" is all the warning Jim gets before he ends up on his ass. In hindsight, perhaps he should have been paying more attention.

The doors to the bridge opening and closing registered on some level as did the angry footsteps approaching his captain's chair. Though in his defense, the rest of the bridge crew didn't find anything amiss with Doctor McCoy storming the bridge. (If anything, it's been the most normal thing to happen in months), neither did security, who now have their hands on their phasers as they take several deceive steps forward.

Jim shakes off his surprise at the impressive right hook Leonard laid him out with, then shakes his head to call off security, as he pries himself off the floor, rubbing at his jaw. McCoy's still seething and spitting profanity and insults like a cobra. Whatever's stuck in his craw, isn't going to be resolved by security dragging him off to the brig and such an official measure is going to raise some red flags on their clearance to have McCoy on board in the first place.

All eyes are on Jim as he stands and straightens his shirt, except for Spock, whose made his way from his station to behind the doctor. Spock has his hand wrapped around McCoy's upper left arm, and oh, does that have McCoy throwing an even bigger fit.

"Get off me," snarls Leonard, trying to rip his arm out of Spock's death grip. "Get your goddamn hands off me you pointed eared hobgoblin!"

"Dr McCoy," orders Jim, calm and professional amidst the screaming. It gets everyone's attention except for Leonard, who's moved on to insulting Spock's parents. "Dr McCoy, to my ready room, now!" tries Jim, a little louder and with more bite. Whatever the hell this is, they can resolve it behind closed doors. It's too early for a ship wide spectacle.

Leonard's not ready to comply, turning back around on Jim. "Fuck you, Jim."

It's going to be one of those days, thinks Jim, already feeling the migraine taking hold. Spock moves to take McCoy out with the same cheap shot he used to make Jim leave the bridge when he questioned Spock's captaincy- the nerve pinch.

"Let him go, Spock," says Jim, waving off such drastic measures. The fallout from such a move will have consequences Jim can't ever see getting ahead of. Leonard's already in a state, he doesn't need more fuel for the fire.

"Captain?" asks Spock, somewhat confused by Jim's refusal to end the situation now.

Jim raises his hand to silence any more discussion on the matter. Spock let's go but refuses to move out of reach of the irate doctor.

"Dr McCoy," snaps Jim, cold and leaving no room for argument. "My ready room."

Leonard opens his mouth to protest but Jim reinforces, "Now!"

The doctor glares with more hatred than Jim's ever seen. It sends a shiver down his spine; if they were enemies, that look would promise a slow and painful death. Jim glares back, unable and unwilling to back down here.

Leonard relents, shoving Spock for good measure as he passes on his way to Kirk's ready room. Jim doesn't move a muscle or look away until Leonard's off the bridge. The second the doors close, the crew becomes infatuated with their consoles, anything to avoid eye contact with their captain.

"Spock, you have the bridge," says Jim, but it's so quiet now, it sounds like he's yelling. He rubs his aching jaw. Let it never be said Leonard doesn't have a wicked right hook. Jim's certain if Leonard wasn't usually a pacifist, he could be the boxing champion of the Federation.

"Is it advisable to speak to the doctor alone?" ask Spock, genuinely concerned for Jim's welfare.

"I got this," assures Jim. "You've got the bridge." Leonard may have laid him out, but he doesn't need Spock to protect him. He won't be caught unaware again and Spock's presence will just escalate and already volatile situation.

Jim barley makes through the door before Leonard starts his tirade. "How dare you, Jim?"

"You were avoiding Joanna. Your daughter!" counters Jim, just as hotly as Leonard. Jim can handle being the punching bag; it's his fault Leonard ended up in that hell, but he can't sit back and let Leonard's relationship with his daughter rot away. "She was worried. What was I supposed to do? You asked me to look after her."

Leonard pauses as realization hits; Jim saw vids he made when he thought he wasn't going to survive that world. Broken, desperate messages fuelled by alcohol and created by hopelessness that no one was supposed to see as long as he lived, and Jim watched them. His voice goes hoarse as remembers that night. He's never really escaped that moment. Physically he made it out but mentally, he's still trapped on that ship awaiting his execution. "You think seeing me like this is good for her?" he demands brokenly. It was his job to check for monsters under the bed and in the closet. Leonard's failed Joanna in a lot of ways but he can still protect her from the monsters, even if that monster is himself.

Jim relaxes a little as the anger leeches from Leonard's body. Unfortunately, it's replaced with misery and Jim's not sure that's any better. "I think she needed to see her father. To see with her own eyes, he's alive and whole." Jim needs that too, only now he's beginning to question if that's even possible.

"I'm not," confesses Leonard, his head hanging low.

"Not what?"

"Whole! And it's exhausting trying to pretend I am or that I can be for you people." Pretending, trying to function in this bright and shiny world has become so tiresome and burdensome since his return. That other place stole his light, and he doesn't have the matches to reignite it. It's hard, harder than normal to live in this world; things that weren't heavy now weigh him down like anchors to a ship. He lost so much over there- Chekov, his sanity, and left behind even more- his daughter, his soul. She may not have been his daughter, but somewhere over there was a Joanna. No one is born evil, but he's left that beautiful shiny soul he calls Joanna behind to be tarnished by that evil. What kind of father does that make him? How can he look his own daughter in the eye and tell her he let her down over there?

"Then don't pretend. It's me, Bones. It's me," pleads Jim. Leonard's seen ever facet of Jim, and he of Leonard and they've never judged one another for it. Why Leonard thinks he needs to be something he's not for Jim leaves Jim confused.

A slow clapping sound emanates from the corner of the room. Kirk's standing there applauding the show with such reverie Leonard's surprised he isn't throwing roses at them. "You gonna buy that?" he asks seriously. He's just looking for a soft spot to put the knife," he adds miming the motion of jabbing a knife into Leonard.

For a moment it looks like Leonard's walls are finally going to come down but then that dark haunted look takes over once again as he snarls, "It's none of your goddamn business, Jim!"

"It is when your fourteen-year-old daughter is calling me in the middle of the night because she's worried about you because you won't talk to her beyond a couple lines of text you may or may not send her when she contacts you," counters Jim.

"How dare you," snarls Leonard. What the hell does Jim about raising kids anyways? What does Jim know period? He swaggered in at the eleventh hour to perform his usual heroic bullshit then brought them back for the usual shower of gratitude and accolades. Leonard had to see it, to live it. Leonard is the one that rocked a colicky baby well into the night for the first year of her life, to treat scrapped knees and make Halloween costumes. Now Jim's going to stand here and tell Leonard how to handle both things? He doesn't think so. "If I want a fool's opinion, I'll ask for it. Otherwise, I think it's best if we just stay away from each other for the next five years, Captain. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to attend to."

Jim stands there, just trying to remember how to breathe. He's never begged anyone to stay before and he's not about to now, but it's pretty close. Of all the people that have walked out of Jim's life, this one hurts the most. "Dismissed," he manages to mumble and Leonard pounces on the opportunity right away.