Maybe falling asleep on the couch with his little girl hadn't been the wisest of decisions, but Leonard wouldn't have traded those precious moments for the universe.

Morning dawned like a punch to the gut, reminding them both that their time together was rapidly drawing to a close.

Jim had offered to come along.

Leonard had been mere centimeters away from saying yes.

But as much as he might have craved the support, he didn't want to put on a show—and any interaction with Jocelyn observed by an outsider, even his best friend, would turn into just that.

It was just the way of things between him and—

Jocelyn stared him down as the door slid open, and it was about damn time, seeing as how he'd chimed her quarters three times already. It was only when he had resorted to good old-fashioned knocking that his efforts were rewarded.

He chided himself for getting any amount of satisfaction, no matter how small, out of her shocked expression. The flash was brief, however, morphing into a disdain so cold, he could feel a shiver run down his spine.

"Leonard."

He forced a nod, hoping to God his expression didn't match hers. He didn't need to stoop to her level.

Tightening his hold on his baby, who had her arms wrapped around his neck, Leonard returned the stiff greeting. "Jocelyn."

"Might've known this ship was yours. The universe keeps finding ways to jinx me." She crossed her arms, piercing blue eyes looking him up and down. "You look the same."

"You look older," he couldn't help but observe. The faint cracks in her skin and kinks around her eyes proved that his statement was more than a cheap insult.

"You would say that," she bit out. "But then, I suppose the age gap's finally starting to show." Before Leonard could make any sort of comeback, her gaze locked on Joanna, eyes narrowing a fraction. "Still trying to steal her from me, I see."

One, two, three, four…

Leonard sucked in a steadying breath before he let himself even think about getting a word out. "Actually, the captain found her wandering through the halls and he brought her to me. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? That was yesterday, by the way."

Jocelyn didn't even have the decency to appear worried. "Am I supposed to know where she is 24/7?"

"She's seven, you—" Another breath, another silent count to five. "Look, this is a big ship. She could've run into any number of—"

"What? You're saying this is a ship full of perverts? Real professional, McCoy."

"I'm saying you need to take better care of our child!" Leonard snapped, instantly regretting his tone as he felt Joanna flinch.

"Like you did?" A dry smirk stretched her lips when Leonard clamped his jaw shut with a click. "And she's my child. You lost rights to her when you left us two years ago."

"Hey, you left me first. And I have every right to her! There's this little thing called visitation rights that maybe you forgot about."

"I didn't forget," came her flippant reply. "I just don't care. Now, give me my child."

Leonard hesitated, yet even as stepped forward, he could feel Jo's grip tighten.

Inches from Jocelyn, the scent finally reached his nose, floating off her breath in all its sickening familiarity. Instinct had him backing up a step, brows furrowed.

"Have you been drinking?"

Jocelyn rolled her eyes, once folded arms now reaching out for Jo. "Like you don't. I forgot what a hypocrite you always were."

We talking about me or you right now…?

Leonard studied her, hands on Joanna's back like a shield. "Joce, it's only seven in the morning."

"Don't call me that. You don't get to call me that. And what's the time of day got to do with it?"

"You know, you aren't making a good case for yourself…"

"Oh, do you want to take this to court?" She arched a thin brow. "See what kind of case I can make against you?"

Maybe it was that look in her eyes, the fiery blaze that threatened to burn him alive. Maybe it was the age-old threat that never failed to drive tiny spikes of fear through his heart.

She could take Joanna away from him for good if she wanted to, she had the right connections; friends in high places. And he had nothing but his medical degree.

Maybe you're just a coward.

After all these years… You're still defenseless against her.

So, he tried not to think about the alcohol on her breath. Tried to ignore the way Joanna clung to him, how he had to pry her off his neck. Tried not to dwell on her sad little face.

Tried to erase Jocelyn's smug smile from his mind as the door swished shut.

Well, damn.

Shoulders sagging, Leonard forced himself not to stare at the pale white barricade, the one keeping him from his daughter.

Medbay.

That's it.

He needed to get to work; forget everything and move on.

Easier said than done.

After building a callus over his heart for nearly two years, Leonard had felt it tear open again in the span of five minutes, oozing pain all throughout his chest.

It was a wound even the CMO of the Enterprise couldn't patch up.

No matter how desperately he tried.

Jim couldn't focus.

On slow days, that wasn't anything new. Much as he loved it, sometimes sitting in that center chair could get tedious. Sometimes, his mind wandered. It was only natural.

That afternoon, however, nothing about his rabbit trail of thoughts felt natural.

Nothing about it felt good.

He hadn't seen Bones since those early morning hours.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come? Moral support and all that jazz."

The way Bones had hesitated… Jim had truly hoped the man would say yes.

Instead, Jim found himself on the bridge, surrounded by friends who didn't deserve to be within ten feet of his souring mood. He'd caught Spock staring a couple times. Even Uhura seemed to notice her captain's constant distraction.

And he thought he'd been hiding it so well.

He knew Bones had a complex past—almost as complicated as his own—and this feud with his ex-wife was to be expected. Yet, something about the whole situation didn't feel right.

None of it's right. You knew that from the start.

True.

But something about it felt indescribably wrong.

Jim shifted in his chair, stopping halfway through in a vain attempt to not look like an antsy child.

Taking an early—or was it a late—lunch break seemed the best course of action. Maybe a short stint away from the bridge would do him good.

"Mr. Spock, you have the con…"

Was it really his fault he ended up in medbay instead of the commissary?

Though the room's activity levels were no higher than usual, Jim spotted Bones immediately, rushing from station to station, busying himself, it seemed, in the most mundane ways.

A hypo restock here, a check-in on a recovering patient there. Run something by Nurse Chapel first, then circle the entirety of medbay to check up on all the patients again.

If it hadn't been for Jim clearing his throat just as Bones darted by, he was certain the doctor wouldn't have noticed him.

"Afternoon, Bones," he greeted. "Medbay looks busy today."

Bones tried for a scowl, but the expression held too much weariness to have its desired effect.

Hands on his hips, Bones finally slowed down enough to give Jim a once-over with his dark gaze. "All right, what'd you do to yourself now?"

"What do you mean, what'd I do? Can't I just visit a friend in medbay?" He jabbed a finger at Bones' chest, though it lacked any real vigor. "You hang out on the bridge all the time."

"I do not." The rest of an argument simmered beneath the surface of his words, but Bones didn't look to have the energy to continue. "Well, okay, visit, then. While you're here, why don't you help me organize these."

Jim followed Bones to a shelf that had to be the epitome of organization. He was sure even Spock's room wasn't as neat. Every hypo had a place, every tool sat perfectly aligned with the rest.

"Uh…" Jim risked a glance at his friend. "Organize what, exactly?"

"All these hypos," came Bones' distracted reply, his fingers already switching the devices around. "They're not—"

A firm hand on the doctor's shoulder was enough to stop him in his tracks. "Bones, they're fine. You know how I know they're fine? Because I literally just watched you organize them when I first got here."

The sigh was expected, however, he didn't think it would rattle Bones' frame as much as it did.

"I guess you're right." Those steady surgeon hands twitched as if aching for something to do, to hold. "Maybe we can… I dunno, go over reports or something."

The shock value of that sentence was entirely dependent on one's knowledge of Doctor Leonard McCoy. Since their early days in the academy, Bones had hated going over reports, especially those already completed.

"What's the point in reading 'em again, Jim, if you're the one who wrote it? I know what it says, I don't need a refresher course on my own damn dissertation!"

Jim took a moment to study his friend. The stress lines hadn't been there yesterday morning, and Jim swore they weren't that deep last night. Though the rest of his appearance looked professional, as usual, there was a slight slump to his shoulders and a dullness to his eyes. Barely noticeable to those who didn't know what to look for—who didn't know Bones.

"Hey," Jim began, voice soft, "how did it go this morning?"

The eyeroll answered his question. So did the heavy sigh and the slow head shake.

"'Bout as well as I'd expected. We exchanged a few barbs, she took Jo back, then slammed the door in my face. More predictable than Spock's love affair with logic."

"She didn't say anything about you seeing more of Joanna? I mean, since you are on the same ship and all."

"Are you kidding?" Bones scoffed, arms now crossed tightly against his chest. "Christmas and summer, those are my visitation periods. Beyond that, Jo's all hers."

Enough bitterness dripped from Bones' tone that Jim knew he would've been scared stiff had the words been directed at him.

"Okay, sure, but this is your turf, not hers." Jim crossed his arms. "You know what I'd do?"

Bones' glance was skeptical. "No, kid, what would you do?"

After an eyeroll of his own, Jim nodded toward the door. "I'd march back up to that door and demand time with your daughter. This is your ship, not hers, so she has to play by your rules. You're not in Georgia anymore, Bones."

Another sigh as Bones carded a hand through his hair. "I wish it were that simple, Jim. I wish it were that—"

The commotion near the medbay doors was as jarring as it was unexpected, so was the little girl running toward them.

And the tear tracks running down her face.

Bones didn't hesitate but a moment, meeting her halfway and swinging her into his arms.

Jim felt his chest seize.

Breathe, idiot. They need your help, so breathe.

"Shh, shh, baby," Bones was cooing when Jim joined the pair. "What's the matter? What happened?"

Joanna's tiny lip quivered. She just shook her head and buried her face in her father's chest.

That's when the sobbing truly began. The hiccuped cries that tore at Jim's heart, echoing off the starch white medbay walls.

Bones continued in his vain attempts to soothe her, eventually taking her into his office to avoid the stares of his staff. Jim joined them on the small sofa.

"Joanna, baby," Bones soothed, "you know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

It took another few minutes of crying, but Joanna managed to get a few words out. The unfortunate part came in the fact that neither Bones nor Jim could understand them.

"What, sweet girl? Aw, shh, don't cry. What did you say?"

Bones was the closest to the girl's lips, but Jim heard her next words loud and clear. As if he'd said them himself.

Maybe, in some distant world, he had.

"D-Don't take me back to Mama. P-Please, I wanna stay with you!"

He was acting on a hunch, but to be fair, his hunches had a good success rate.

This time, let me be wrong.

"D-Don't leave me again, D-Daddy!"

Please, let me be wrong.

He didn't wait for Bones' permission—maybe he should've.

He didn't ask Joanna first—he definitely should've done that.

Because he just had to know.

He had to know that he was wrong.

Sliding up her little sleeve was easy.

Staring down at the blossoming patch of red was the hard part. Stage one of what was going to be one nasty bruise.

Was the sharp inhale his or Bones'? Jim couldn't tell. His throat had all but dried out completely.

"Jim." Bones breathy whisper barely registered.

Because Joanna was tugging away, squeezing her father tight.

And Jim was already inspecting her other arm.

Now, instead of discovering bruises, he was counting them.

No.

No, no!

He hadn't wanted to be right.

"Jo," he began, doing everything in his power to keep the venom out of his voice, "who hurt you?"

Joanna didn't reply, nuzzling deeper into Bones' now tear-soaked shirt.

In the grand scheme of things, an answer wasn't necessary. One look at his friend and Jim could tell they both knew who had done it.

"Oh," Bones murmured, dull eyes sharpened and full of fire. "I'm going to kill her."

Jim pursed his lips.

Not if he got to Jocelyn first.