Leonard McCoy
"Kirk to McCoy." Leonard looks up from the report he was going over with Amelia (currently, they're both burning the midnight oil to get everyone on board the Enterprise both physically and mentally examined before their five-year mission ends) and presses the comm button.
"McCoy here."
"Report to the bridge immediately, and if Counselor Fairchild is with you, tell her to report too. Kirk out." A glance over at his wife reveals a slight frown in place. She's just as confused as he is.
"Do you know-"
"No, I don't." He offers her his hand, which she takes, and they start towards the doors. They're not orbiting a planet right now and… "Are we in warp?"
"No." That rules out another possibility. It's rare that they're both called to the bridge, and usually it doesn't mean anything good.
That thought is confirmed when, stepping out of the turbolift, his gaze lands on Jim. The captain is in his chair, expression grave. Spock is at his station, staring into his instrument, and if he didn't know any better, he'd accuse the Vulcan of looking worried.
"What's this all about, Jim?"
"We're approaching an unidentified vessel. We've tried hailing them, but we've gotten no reply. Mr. Spock, how many life signs are you reading?
"1,556, Captain." That's more than triple the size of the Enterprise crew.
"Currently, they've got us in some sort of tractor beam. We can't move."
"They are now attempting to scan us."
"Shields up. Go to yellow alert." An amber light floods the room.
"Our shields are being penetrated, Captain." Spock confirms. "We are being scanned." Leonard looks over at Amelia. Her expression is completely neutral but she's a shade paler than normal. He wishes he could do something, take her hand, tell her not to be afraid, but he has to remain professional. And then, as if she never existed, she disappears.
"Amelia?" He glances around as if he's expecting her to have simply walked away. Nothing. "Jim-"
"I saw it."
"Captain, we're getting reports of missing crewmen from decks five, eight, twelve, and fifteen." Uhura informs Jim, one hand pressed to her ear.
"How many in total?"
"Seventeen."
"Names?"
"Johnson, Espanoza, Lucas, Fairchild-" He can feel a frown forming on his face at that. There's something niggling at the back of his mind. Something he can't quite put his finger on. Maybe if he concentrates…
"What do all those names have in common? Or do they have anything?"
"Running a computer analysis to triangulate any similarities now, Captain." Espanoza and Amelia…
"Jim, it might be a coincidence, but Espanoza and the counselor have the same blood type." He knows Amelia's off the top of his head, and he performed an appendectomy on Espanoza just last week so hers is still fresh in his mind.
"What about the others?"
"I'd have to look up their medical files to be certain."
"That won't be necessary, Doctor." Spock looks up from the computer screen. "The seventeen crewmen that have vanished all have the blood type AB negative." Jim's forehead creases.
"Isn't that-"
"The rarest of the eight blood types usually found in humans." And an odd thing for aliens to lock onto. That raises more questions than it does answers. Specifically… "Why? And where are they?"
"The most logical assumption would be that they are now on board the alien vessel."
"Well, don't just assume! Find out!"
"At ease, Doctor." Jim holds up a hand. He wants to snap that he will not be at ease, that's his wife they're talking about, but he holds his tongue. "Spock, can you get a read on their ship?"
"Affirmative. Now picking up 1,573 life signs." Seventeen more.
"Lieutenant Uhura, hail the alien vessel again."
"Hailing them now, Captain." She frowns. "No reply."
"Mr. Spock, what will it take to penetrate their shields?"
"Nothing, Captain. Their shields are not up." This is getting stranger by the second. Jim must think so too, because he informs them,
"It's like they want us to take them back."
"I would advise caution, Captain. This may be a trap."
"Almost definitely, but we can't let them leave with our people." His friend turns to him. "Bones, return to sickbay and prepare for casualties. Have M'Benga report to the transporter room."
"You're going over there?"
"I don't see another option."
"Then I'm coming too."
"Negative, Doctor." Spock turns to him. "You are emotionally compromised."
"I'm not-"
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Spock on this one. My orders stand. Report to sickbay."
"Jim, I can still do my job-"
"I don't doubt that, which is why I want you to do it here." He's about to protest again when the captain approaches him and, leaning closer, tells him, "She's your wife, Bones. You don't have a clear head when it comes to her. Now, the best way you can help her is to be ready to offer her medical assistance when we get her back." He hates to admit it, but Jim is making sense. Nodding, he starts towards the doors.
Sickbay is a buzz of activity once he gives the order. Since they don't know what they're going to get, they're prepared for everything: stimulants, sedatives, pain relief, coagulants, tissue regenerators, bandages, pressure dressings. It doesn't take long to gather everything, and then he's left with nothing to do but pace the length of his office and worry.
Why the hell would they want people with type AB negative blood? Scratch that; who the hell are they anyway? And what the hell are they doing to his wife? Those are his most pressing questions, but he's got a few more, like what it is Jim thinks he's going to do and exactly how many casualties are they going to have, but those are easier to dismiss. That is, until he hears,
"Dr. McCoy, report to the transporter room with a medical team. A large one."
"Acknowledged. I'm on my way. McCoy out." He steps out of his office and is greeted by Chapel, Perez, and Andres.
"We heard-"
"The walls are thin-" He's more than familiar with the concept.
"Andres, send orderlies to the transporter room and hold down the fort. Everyone else, medical scanners, tricorders, and hyposprays. We leave in thirty seconds." If things were slow before, now they're moving at a sprint. He grabs what he can carry and heads for the door, the others falling into step behind him. No one says anything until they're inside the turbolift. Then Perez breaks the silence.
"Are they back? The crewmen?"
"I don't know."
"What about the away team? Any casualties?"
"You know as much as I do, nurse." The turbolift comes to a halt and they step out into the transporter room. It's fuller than he's ever seen it before. There's the away team which is down a few members as well as slumped people lining the walls. He starts to do a quick head count but forgets about it at number twelve because that's when he sees her. Amelia's being supported by Jim, but she's mostly upright. The captain had it right before because, without thinking, he darts towards her.
"Leonard?" The word is slurred.
"Hi, Darling." A soft smile crosses her face.
"Hi."
"Dr. McCoy-" Chapel slides past him, and he knows what she's going to say even before she opens her mouth.
"I know. She's your patient." Giving his wife's hand a squeeze, he starts towards the others.
Espanoza's head is lolling to the side when he reaches her and she's having trouble focusing on him, but she still manages a smile.
"This feels like the stuff you gave me after my surgery."
"Then you're enjoying yourself, I take it?"
"Oooh, yeah." He turns on the scanner and begins the examination. There's a small puncture wound on one of her arms and her blood volume is down by two pints. There's something he can't completely identify in her system, but it has properties similar to that of a sedative. From what he can tell, it's not enough to do any real harm even with the blood loss. Other than that, she's completely fine.
"Do you remember anything from your time over there?"
"No. They kept us drugged up. I just slept." He motions to one of the orderlies.
"Take her to sickbay. Tell Andres to take a blood sample, then give her a stimulant and a blood replenisher."
"Yes, Doctor." With that out of the way, he moves onto-
"Lucas." It's the same story. He's down part of his blood volume, but not by much. The same drug is in his system, and while he's a little loopy, he's perfectly healthy. So it is with the other ten he examines, and a quick meeting with Chapel and Perez reveals the same thing. With them taken care of, that leaves a slightly bloodied Jim.
"How bad is it?"
"Two cracked ribs and some minor internal bleeding. You should be fine to return to your quarters in a few hours. What happened over there anyway?"
"We beamed directly to the crewmen's location. They were in some sort of lab, hooked up to what looked like those old Earth IVs. We managed to get them all disentangled, but that's when we were noticed. We had to fight our way out, and we lost three men."
"It wasn't your fault, Jim." That being said- "I want you to report to Counselor Fairchild's office once I clear her for duty."
"You're sending me to your wife?"
"She won't be returning to her post until tomorrow, so you've got time to prepare." Jim chuckles, then winces. "I wouldn't advise that until we can do something about those fractures."
"I need to get back to the bridge."
"What you need to do is go down to sickbay. Now." He thinks Jim's going to argue with him, but instead the captain starts towards the turbolift. With all of his patients already in sickbay, he has nothing to do but follow.
By the time he returns to sickbay, all of the abducted crewmen are more lucid, and discharges have begun. He tends to Jim, then goes to the lab. The spectral analysis hasn't turned up much; several compositions he's never seen before and what's clearly a sedative, but nothing glaringly obvious. There's not much he can ascertain without running a few more tests. Spock is already on that, so he excuses himself. All other patients are cared for, so there's something he needs to do.
Amelia's sitting on the sofa when he reaches their quarters, her PADD in her lap. It's such a typical sight; one he usually takes for granted. She looks up at him and her lips curve up into a smile.
"I'm guessing you didn't believe Christine when she said I'm fine?"
"I believed her. I'm just double-checking." As he kneels in front of her and begins the scan, she tells him,
"You do realize that I'm not your patient."
"I know. Just humor me." Her readings are completely normal. That should reassure him, but it doesn't.
"Well?"
"Chapel didn't miss anything, unless I'm missing it too."
"I have total confidence in both of you." With a sigh, he sets down the medical devices and takes a seat next to her.
"How do you feel, Amelia?"
"A little groggy, I guess, but okay."
"Do you remember what happened?"
"Only waking up to the sound of phasers."
"So, you have no idea what they did to you?"
"Nothing except what I've put together myself. We were drugged, weren't we?"
"You were, and I still don't have any idea with what." There could be long-term effects that haven't shown up yet. What if it causes damage to the lungs? She's only got one. This shouldn't have happened. It's not safe out here-
His thoughts are cut off by her pressing her lips against his. It's instinct, pulling her into his arms until she's so close, he can feel her heartbeat against his chest. He's not sure which one of them deepens the kiss, only that when she pulls away, he's breathless and she's practically on top of him.
"What was that?"
"An attempt to shut off your worries for a few seconds. Did it work?"
"It did. For a few seconds." Her forehead wrinkles at that.
"When do you have to get back to sickbay?" Technically, his shift ended an hour ago, but there's still the results of the other tests to go over. Of course, Spock is there, and it won't be done until-
"About thirty minutes from now."
"We'll have to be quick, then."
"Amelia-" Whatever he was going to say is forgotten as she reaches behind her for the zipper of her uniform.
"Want to give me a hand?"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Stop worrying and just be with me for a while." Covering her hand with his, he eases the zipper down.
"I can do that."
Amelia Fairchild
Amelia is in the bathroom standing under the shower's spray when it hits her. Or more specifically, hits her chest. She winces and moves out of the way, taking a few deep breaths through her mouth. For some odd reason, over the past few days, she's woken up to a vague unease in the pit of her stomach. It goes away as the day progresses, but it's unpleasant to deal with. Her first thought was that she's anxious about the Enterprise's return to Earth and the impending end to their mission. There are only two weeks left, and despite hours of discussion, Leonard and she have yet to decide whether they're staying with the fleet. However, this doesn't improve much with any of the techniques she employs. She just has to ride it out. Turning her back to the spray, she rinses her hair. Time to get on with the day.
Leonard is already dressed and is heading out the door when she steps into the room. That can only mean one thing.
"You're going in early again." He nods.
"I'm still behind on physicals."
"So you're taking a page from my book?"
"It certainly looks that way, doesn't it?" Giving his hand a squeeze, she tells him,
"Go. Just make sure when you get back-"
"That I'm actually home?"
"Yes."
"I'll do it." Offering her a quiet 'I love you' he heads out the door, leaving her with nothing to do but get ready for the day ahead. She begins pulling on her uniform, and she feels it again. So it's her chest that's tender, not the shower that's too powerful. That sets off an alarm bell, but she pushes it to the side. She probably slept wrong.
Nyota's already in the changing room when she arrives, but the other woman is still in her uniform. When Amelia sits down next to her, she sighs.
"Amelia, I think I'm skipping out on the run this morning."
"Why?"
"Bad cramps. I can barely move."
"Isn't your birth control supposed to help with that?"
"I decided to let it lapse until we got back to Earth-"
"Nyota!"
"Relax. I'm not doing anything that could lead to pregnancy or STIs. I just didn't feel like going through the process when I'm going to have to turn around and do it all over again once I reach my new posting. Speaking of, have you decided yet what you're going to do?" Amelia sighs.
"No. It's still up in the air." The doors open and she nearly gags as a lieutenant she vaguely recognizes steps in. She's smelled some strong perfumes in her time, but this is over the top. How can the lieutenant possibly stand it? Forcing herself to breathe shallowly through her mouth, she changes into her workout wear and practically sprints for the door. Unfortunately, the training room isn't much better. It reeks of stale sweat in a way she's never noticed before.
"Are you alright?" The words come from behind her. Still slightly hunched over, Nyota approaches. "You look a little green."
"Could you smell that? In the changing room?"
"Smell what?"
"The lieutenant's perfume. It was overpowering."
"I couldn't smell a thing." The alarm bell goes off again, but she manages to silence it.
"You really should at least try some stretches. Exercise is supposed to improve things."
"Does it when you're on yours?"
"I don't really get that many symptoms most months."
"Don't tell me you're one of the lucky ones who only deals with it for three days."
"Usually." Nyota groans.
"I hate you."
"I'm not the one who decided to let my medication lapse." She reupped not two months ago… and for the third time, an alarm bell rings. This time it's impossible to ignore.
"What is it?"
"What's what?"
"You're making a face, and you've never done that for as long as I've known you." Yes, well, she's also never been two weeks late since knowing Nyota. Or ever, for that matter. Combine that with the breast tenderness, nausea, and overactive sense of smell… not good.
"I think I'm going to skip today's run also." That provokes a frown.
"Are you okay?"
"It's probably nothing. We should head up to mess."
Despite her assurances to Nyota, throughout breakfast Amelia can't get her mind off one possible reason for her symptoms. It's going to affect her work if she doesn't just get it out of the way so, as soon as the meal is over, she excuses herself and returns to deck seven.
When she arrives in sickbay, it's completely empty, and she breathes a sigh of relief. No chance she'll be overheard. Pressing the button for the buzzer outside of Leonard's office, she waits.
"Enter." He's at his desk, wearing a preoccupied frown. Not bothering to look up from his PADD, he motions for her to sit in the chair opposite him. As she settles into place, she tells him,
"I'm guessing it's already been a long day."
"You could say that." He sighs. "Amelia, I've had two unplanned pregnancies this morning and both of them were on birth control. That's not even to mention the string of STIs from people who were also on protective medications. It's like the sexual health of the Enterprise is on strike." She frowns.
"Go back to the part about unplanned pregnancies."
"There's been two of them."
"And you said they were on medication-"
"To prevent that. Same with the STIs."
"Do they have anything in common? The cases?"
"Oddly enough, yes. The same blood type."
"Which kind?"
"AB negative. Why?" The wave of nausea that she's been fighting all morning comes back with a vengeance, and she balls her hands into fists, concentrating on the sting of her nails digging into her palms to distract her from it.
"Because I think you might have another one on your hands."
"Who?" It takes all of her willpower to meet his eyes, so she doesn't have any left to actually utter the words. It doesn't matter. She can tell the instant he realizes what she means. "When did you…"
"This morning. Nyota and I were talking, and I realized…" She sighs.
"How many days?"
"Fifteen."
"And you didn't think before now-"
"I honestly didn't." It shouldn't even be a possibility. It's not like the early days of contraceptives. The medications in use now are one hundred percent effective. That is, if you're not kidnapped by an unknown species and administered God knows what, apparently.
"Do you want Chapel, or-"
"No." She takes a deep breath. "No, if this is what it looks like, then I'd rather not have another person involved until I had to. That is, if you're okay to-"
"I am. Just… sit there. I'll be back." She doubts she could move even if she wanted to.
The scan takes less than a minute, but as she listens to the whirring, it feels like hours. How the hell did she end up here? She's thirty-five years old and has never had a pregnancy scare before. Maybe that's all it is. Most couples at their age have to try for months to conceive. It's unlikely… but as he sets down the scanner and tricorder, she can already read the answer on his face.
"How far along?"
"Six weeks, two days."
"I see." If she was rooted in place before, now there's a gravitational pull urging her from the room. "I have to get to work." Standing, she starts towards the door.
"Amelia-" He catches her hand as she passes, and she turns back to face him. Concern is written in those blue eyes.
"Leonard, I can't. Not right now. I'm sorry." He nods and, giving her hand a squeeze, lets her go.
Leonard McCoy
"You've been staring at that thing for hours." Leonard looks up from his PADD at Chapel's words. She's right. Ever since performing the scan on Amelia and finding out that she's… he can't think about that… he's been going back over the spectral analysis. It's for several reasons: he's trying to ascertain what elements could have nullified birth control and other forms of sexual health medications as well as hoping for a sign that there won't be long-term effects. So far, he's coming up empty on both counts.
"What time is it?"
"Twenty-one hundred hours."
"Chapel, your shift ended three hours ago."
"I know. I left my PADD and I was coming by to pick it up when I saw the light from your office." She hesitates, then- "She's working late too." That's not good.
"Did you see her at mess?"
"No. I don't think she's left her office." Really not good. Powering down the device, he stands.
"Thank you, Chapel. Make sure you go back to your quarters for the night."
"Actually-" She flushes, and he knows what she means without her saying it.
"Then make sure you go back to his and do something that resembles sleeping." Chapel ducks her head and murmurs a quiet, 'Yes, Doctor' as she heads out the door. With a sigh, he starts in the opposite direction and tries to get his thoughts in order.
He's seen her three times since this morning. Twice when she came to have him sign off on another treatment plan and once at lunch where she was sitting by herself, staring off into space. She hasn't brought up the pregnancy, and neither has he. On his part because he's still trying to wrap his head around it.
This is the last thing he expected to happen. He's forty-four years old, for god's sake! He has a twenty-two-year-old daughter! Those two things aren't exactly a preventative factor, but he was well aware of the measures Amelia had taken to make sure this exact thing didn't transpire. And now… there's going to be some hard choices that have to be made. Mostly by her. But for right now, he's got to get her out of her office for the night. Without bothering to buzz, he walks in.
"Amelia?" He can see her shoulders rise and fall as she sighs, but when she looks up from the PADD, her expression is neutral.
"Leonard."
"Time to go, Darling." He expects her to protest, but she stands, the device tucked under her arm. That's a bad sign, if she's not fighting him. He takes her hand as she passes, and while she doesn't recoil, she also doesn't respond. They walk side by side through sickbay until they reach the corridor. Then she turns towards their quarters. "No. Mess first."
"Not tonight."
"Amelia-" Those blue eyes meet his.
"I'm fine. You go." There's not much he can do but obey. At least if he goes up, he can bring something back for her.
He's not sure what he orders from the replicator, only that it might as well be sawdust from all he's tasting. He's a little more selective when it comes to her meal, trying to strike a decent nutritional balance. There's nothing he can do as a husband, but he's still a doctor, and he can look after her health. No one tries to stop him on the way out the door, and at this hour, the corridors are mostly empty, as is the turbolift. He arrives back at deck seven without incident and makes the familiar trek toward their quarters.
She's changed into her pajamas when he returns, already curled up in bed. He sets the tray down on the desk and then sits next to her. She gives no indication that she's even noticed she's no longer alone. Hesitantly, he pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.
"What are you thinking?" He's not expecting a response but, taking a deep breath, she tells him,
"I'm thinking that this shouldn't have happened. I never believed it would."
"Neither did I." He thought there was a possibility that they'd have to discuss having children, but mostly believed it would be shot down by both of them. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, but it's not as if we can put it off indefinitely." She shifts into a sitting position and faces him, although she's still not meeting his eyes. "What do you want to do?"
"I thought that was my question."
"I asked you first." Honestly…
"I haven't thought that far ahead. Too stunned." The corners of her lips twitch up into a wry smile.
"That seems to be going around." There are really only two options: termination or continuing the pregnancy. He's a doctor; he's familiar with the process of the first one. He's also a parent, so he knows about the second one as well.
"I don't have an objection to raising a child with you, Amelia. I also respect it if that's not what you choose to do. I'm with you for either one. It's your choice."
"I know it is." It's silent for a few moments, then- "It's only been six months."
"It has been."
"I suppose things can't go back to the way they were no matter what decision is made."
"No."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Are you trying to shrink me, Amelia?" She chuckles half-heartedly. "I feel… like we'll survive it, whichever way it goes. What about you?"
"I feel…" Finally, she meets his gaze. "…terrified."
"Come here." She scoots towards him, and he pulls her into his arms, head buried against his chest. "It's all going to be alright, Amelia."
"How?"
"I don't know that yet. Just that it will be." They sit like that for what could be hours, or just as easily could be minutes. Finally, he presses a kiss to the top of her head and tells her, "Eat. Then sleep."
"I'm not your patient."
"I know." Although that does bring up another point. "You should make an appointment with Chapel." She frowns. "I know you. You need more information before you can process. She's the one who can give it to you."
"I presume if there was a chromosomal abnormality, you would have already told me."
"I would have." Everything was normal. Each chromosome perfectly formed, including two X's.
"But you still think I should see her."
"I do." With a sigh, she nods.
"I'll ask her to schedule me. Do you want to be part of it, or-"
"Of course I do. I'm with you, remember?"
"I know." Giving his hand a squeeze, she stands. They may not have reached a resolution, but at least she's no longer semi catatonic. The rest can wait.
Amelia Fairchild
Amelia doesn't say anything as she sits through breakfast with Nyota and Christine. The other two women chat, but she's not hearing a word of it. Instead, her mind is on what she has to do after this meal ends. That, and on trying not to be sick in the middle of the mess hall. That seems like the sort of thing that would garner unwanted attention.
Finally, the meal ends and, parting ways in the corridor, Nyota heads to the bridge, leaving her with Christine. Mercifully, the turbolift is empty, and you can't get much more private than that, so she decides to get it out of the way.
"I need to schedule an exam." Her friend frowns.
"Has something happened?"
"It has."
"I thought you seemed off. Do you have any idea what it is I'll be looking at?" A collection of cells in her uterus. But she chooses not to say that.
"I'm pregnant, Chrisine." The nurse's eyes widen a fraction, but that's her only reaction.
"I see. Is this something you suspect or something you know?"
"Something I know. Leonard already confirmed it."
"And will you want him to be there?"
"I will."
"Then we'll do it at twelve hundred hours." Most people will be at lunch then and sickbay should be empty, giving them a modicum of privacy.
"Thank you." Christine nods. The turbolift comes to a halt and they step out, Amelia first, Christine behind her. Already, sickbay is busy, and she sees her husband with a patient so, turning to the nurse, she asks,
"Will you let him know? When you get a break?"
"I'll pass the word along." With that out of the way, she heads to her office.
It's the longest morning she's had in recent memory. Two of the patients she sees are from the group that were taken, and they both reveal that they're experiencing unplanned pregnancies. She counsels them to sit with their feelings, reminding them that what they feel isn't wrong, and urges them to seek more information from their medical provider. All the while, she feels like the world's biggest hypocrite. How can she tell these women what to do when she's actively trying to avoid her own feelings?
Twelve hundred hours rolls around just as she hears a buzz from outside her door. She's reasonably sure of who it is even before she calls out,
"Enter." Sure enough, Leonard steps through the doors and slowly approaches her desk.
"Long morning?" She nods.
"And yours?"
"An extraordinary number of physicals."
"Anything interesting?"
"The usual. A few minor injuries they hadn't felt the need to report, some illnesses in the beginning stages, and several-" He stops short, but she knows what he was going to say. It's inevitable on a ship this size. People meet. Attractions bloom. That often leads to romantic and/or sexual relationships, which in turn can lead to unplanned pregnancies. She just never thought she'd be one of them.
"We should go." Powering down her PADD, she stands and, taking his offered hand, walks out of the safety of her office.
Christine is waiting in the exam room and when she sees them, she offers them a smile. She swallows hard. For all her friend knows, this is a joyous occasion.
"Amelia, if you'll just climb up on the biobed, we can begin." She does as she's told, forcing herself not to recoil as Christine begins the scan. No more than a minute passes before she's told, "You're in perfect health, Amelia, and so is the fetus. Would you like to know the sex?" Normally, she'd want any and all information, but this time she chooses,
"No."
"Alright. Currently, you're sitting at six weeks, three days. Does that sound correct to you?" She hasn't counted backwards yet, but now she does. There have been multiple encounters, but one in particular stands out: the night after her return from the alien vessel.
"It makes sense."
"Good. Now, standard procedure is to wait until the eight-week mark to perform an ultrasound, but we should be able to pick up a heartbeat today."
"That's-" Before she can protest, Christine adjusts something on the biobed, and instead of the normal blip of the monitor picking up her vitals, an impossibly fast and yet steady whooshing fills the room.
"Fetal heartrate is 145 beats per minute. Exactly what we'd expect." With another press of a button, the sound ends as suddenly as it began. "You can sit up now." As she straightens, she glances over at Leonard. His expression is unreadable. He's done this before, both as a doctor and as a patient. This can't be anything new for him. So why… "Any morning sickness?"
"Yes."
"Would you like something for it? I can arrange a daily hypospray-"
"No." She'd rather just cope with the discomfort. "Not at this time." Christine explains about supplements and dietary restrictions, but she's barely hearing her. No, that heartbeat is still playing through her mind on a loop.
"Amelia?" She looks over at Christine. "Any questions?"
"No. Thank you." Sliding down from the biobed, she begins the walk towards her quarters. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, not stopping until the doors close behind her. She's not alone; he's hanging back a few steps, probably trying to gauge her reaction, but she doesn't have it in her to present a passive front. Instead, she settles on the bed and studies the floor. It takes a few seconds, but then the mattress dips, and she feels his fingers intwining with hers.
"Did that make things easier or more complicated?"
"More complicated, I think." She sighs. "I've pictured the future, and you were in it. So was Joanna. No one else. I thought-"
"What?"
"That she'd be the only child I'd ever have, and that was fine with me."
"What about now?" Now… she isn't opposed to having a child that's biologically hers as well as his. A part of her even likes the idea. Despite how strained it was for years, she's seen the relationship between Leonard and Joanna blossom and it's a beautiful thing. She has every confidence in his ability to raise another child. It's her own that she doubts. There are so many similarities between herself and her mother, things that should never be put on a child. And the marriage is so new. Still tender. Will it survive what's easily the biggest strain you can place on it?
"I can imagine that heartbeat belonging to someone, but I also imagine that someone having a cold and unfeeling mother."
"I can't imagine that." She scoffs. "I can't. I can imagine them with a mother who presents a calm exterior, but not one who's cold or unfeeling. I know you better than that." Maybe. She doesn't have a problem loving Leonard or Joanna. Maybe there's room for one more person. Still…
"I'm sorry, Leonard. I still don't know."
"It's alright, Amelia. I'll be here when you figure it out."
Leonard McCoy
Leonard hasn't slept much in the week since learning that his wife is pregnant. During the day, he pushes all thoughts except work from his mind, so it makes sense that at night, those thoughts would come rushing back in. Especially when she's asleep and he's all by himself.
In the past week, he's gotten more used to the idea of potentially raising a child with Amelia. In fact, it's one that he likes. He can imagine Joanna as a (albeit, quite a bit bigger) sister. Can see Amelia with their newborn cradled to her chest. Hell, he can even imagine a much grayer version of himself at his child's graduation ceremony. But he can also see a future where his family is still only three members.
He's so preoccupied that he doesn't notice that Amelia's awake until she shifts next to him, rolling onto her side so that they're face to face. It's dark, but he can feel those blue eyes on him.
"You're awake."
"I am. So are you." With a sigh, Amelia orders,
"Computer, raise up lights to twenty percent." It's not much, but it allows them to see each other. For him to see just how exhausted she looks.
"Amelia, you should be asleep."
"Listen to your own advice, Doctor."
"I'm not the one who's-" He falls silent, realizing his mistake. Her lips curve up into a wry smile.
"I know." A few seconds pass in silence, then- "Tell me about what it was like. With Joanna."
"Which part?"
"Any of it." That doesn't really give him a good jumping off point, so he decides to just start at the beginning.
"We weren't married when Jocelyn found out, but we'd been together since our first year of college. As soon as the scanner picked it up, she was ready. I wasn't."
"So you didn't want-"
"I didn't say that. I was scared, but I was on board. And as the months went by, I wanted her just as much as her mom did."
"Didn't it put a strain on things, having a child at such an inopportune time?"
"It did, but things were already strained. There were cracks in the relationship that we were both ignoring."
"Do you think the relationship would have survived if Joanna hadn't been a factor?"
"No." Should he say it? "I think having a child makes a relationship more of what it already is. If it's strong, then you pull together more. If it's weak, then you pull apart."
"If circumstances were different, if we had met a few years earlier, would you want this?"
"I would." Without hesitating for a moment, he would. "What about you?"
"I think I would too." She sighs. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"I can't get that damn heartbeat out of my head."
"Neither can I."
"I just don't want to repeat history. I grew up with two parents in the fleet, and while that might be okay for some people, it's not how I'd want to raise a child."
"I've done the one foot in the fleet, one foot in the family thing. It doesn't work."
"We've talked about getting out. Maybe..."
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe this is a good enough reason to actually do it." He keeps silent, but his mind is in overdrive. "There would be other difficulties. We'd have to find jobs and a permanent place to live. Joanna would have to cope with some awkwardness. And I'd want us to seek help. Some sort of counseling to make sure we didn't fall out of touch with each other."
"You're forgetting to take one thing into consideration."
"What's that?"
"You. Do you want this, Amelia?" Hesitantly, she reaches out and takes his hand.
"I don't know how we'd do it."
"Neither do I." She chuckles, and he can't help but smile. "We'd manage, though."
"So you'd be okay?"
"I would be."
"Then… yes." This time, he's the one to laugh.
"That's good news."
"I thought so." Now that the decision is made…
"You really do need to get to sleep."
"I will. Just… hold me for a while?"
"Come here." She rolls over and, her back pressed against his chest, he tucks her head under his chin. Without thinking about it, his hand comes to rest just over where their child is safely tucked away, growing stronger as the days pass. Letting out a contented noise, she leans into the touch.
They're really doing this. In thirty-three weeks, the heartbeat on the monitor will belong to a baby in their arms. They need to tender their resignations, go over their funds, and search for other jobs. That's not even to mention looking into her prenatal care. But for tonight, it's enough that the decision has been made.
Amelia Fairchild
Amelia forces herself to breathe slowly in through her nose and out through her mouth as she sits next to Leanard in front of the computer. The Enterprise has officially docked, and in less than an hour, they'll disembark together. However, for right now, they're sending one last video transmission to Joanna from the ship.
"Are you ready, Darling?" Taking one final deep breath, she nods.
"As I'll ever be."
"It's going to be alright."
"I know." She reaches out and takes his hand. "Go on. We don't have long."
"Computer on. Begin video transmission. Recipient: Joanna McCoy." The screen comes to life, and the familiar sight of the staff's quarters on Deep Space Six comes into view. That, and Joanna.
"Huh. Two for two. Hi, Dad. Hi, Amelia."
"Hello, Joanna."
"Hello."
"Dad, why does my stepmother look like she's about to faint?"
"She's anemic, for one thing."
"Barely." She offers Joanna a smile that even she can tell is weak. "I'm just nervous." The younger woman frowns.
"This can't be good. Which one of you is dying this time?"
"Neither of us." Leonard clears his throat. "Actually, it's the opposite."
"Well, the opposite of death would be a pregnancy, and the two of you aren't stupid enough to let that happen-" She stops short. "Oh my god. That's it, isn't it?" Leonard looks over at her with a smirk.
"So much for that announcement."
"Dad!" Joanna groans. "You're a doctor! Do you not know how this happens?"
"I'm aware."
"Then why the hell-"
"Things happen. There was an incident-" She only half listens as he explains about the aliens they still haven't identified and the blood samples he's had to send off to a Federation lab in hopes that they can come up with something. Instead, she focuses on Joanna's changing facial expressions. It's clear that the possibility of a new drug that effectively nullifies all sexual protective measures piques her interest just as much as it does his. Some things just run in the family, and she idly wonders if this baby will have an interest in medicine as well.
"I guess it's neither of your faults, then. Although it's still disgusting to think about the two of you doing anything that could result in pregnancy. Especially at your age, Dad."
"I'm forty-four, not dead."
"And you just lost your right to talk. Amelia-"
"Yes?"
"When did this happen?"
"Around two months ago."
"Two months. Morning sickness would still be handing your ass to you, then."
"It was, but I gave in and agreed to a daily hypospray to help with it." Joanna grimaces.
"I think I'd rather deal with the nausea." Turning to Leonard, she tells him,
"I knew I wasn't the only one."
"It doesn't hurt."
"No." Joanna shakes her head. "It just feels-"
"Odd."
"Thank you! See, this is why she's my favorite." A few seconds pass in silence, then- "So what are you going to do? Your mission is up, right?"
"It is." He nods. "We're going to try the private sector. There has to be someone out there who still has a use for an old country doctor."
"And a decent psychologist."
"Don't the two of you oversell your capabilities." A few seconds pass in silence, then- "I guess I'd better get to work. Amelia, congratulations. Dad…" The younger woman sighs. "… it's still weird."
"It is for us too."
"I love you both. Or all three of you, I guess."
"I love you too, Joanna."
"So do I." Offering them a parting wave, the younger woman orders,
"Computer, end transmission." The screen goes dark, leaving them all alone. "Was that as bad as you thought?" Amelia shakes her head.
"All things considered, it went well." Although they're not done making announcements, the most daunting one is behind them. "I hope this won't be too awkward for her."
"If it is, I'll just remind her that she used to beg for a sister and now she's getting what she wanted." She starts to laugh at that, but one of the words catches her off guard.
"Sister?" He grimaces.
"I'm sorry. You didn't want to know-"
"Because I didn't want it affecting my judgment. Now…" She wants every piece of information she can get. "Are you alright with that?" The corners of his lips quirk up.
"I'd already gotten used to thinking of you as my two girls. Now there's three of you. What about you?"
"I think it's fitting." She's seen him with a daughter, and it suits him. As for her… well, there are certain generational curses passed from mother to daughter that she'd like a chance to break.
"Amelia-"
"Transporter room to McCoy." With a sigh, he presses the comm button.
"McCoy here."
"It's yer beam down time, Doctor. That is, if you and the missus are ready." He looks over at her enquiringly and she nods.
"We're on our way. McCoy out." Standing, he offers her his hand to pull her to her feet.
As they walk side by side towards the turbolift, she can't help but think of the first time she made the trip to deck seven. Then it was beside a curmudgeonly doctor whom she was convinced would do nothing but stand in her way. Now it's next to the man she loves with every fiber of her being. So much has happened in two years, and so much is yet to come.
"Are you sorry to leave it?" She asks it as they step into the transporter room.
"No. It was a good five years, but it's time to move on. What about you? Will you miss the thrill of exploring strange new worlds and the call of adventure?"
"I have a feeling that there's still an adventure ahead of us."
"Is it one you're looking forward to?" She smiles.
"It is."
They've done this hundreds of times. He steps onto the platform first and she follows, taking the familiar hand that hers always fits into perfectly. Their luggage, such as it is, has already been beamed down to the planet surface. Now the only thing to do is return themselves.
"Are ye ready, Doctor? Counselor?" He gives her one final look and she nods.
"We're ready, Scotty." The chief engineer turns to his control panel.
"Engage."