A/N

And the award for the slowest story ever goes to... ME! Yay!

To anyone still reading; thank you. To everyone who leaves reviews, you guys are honestly my reason to continue writing and posting, slow as it may be, and I can't thank you enough.

Sorry there's no Jim in this chapter, adding his scene in didn't really work. I have it saved for the next part though :)

Somebody very super extra awesome has edited some images together of what the kids look like... (I know, so awesome!) These can be found here: standinginthesunkids-dot-tumblr-dot-com. Like seriously, Chris is spooky accurate and Emily and Joanna just. Argh. I can't. So, mysterious person (because I do not tumblr, I fail at it haha) THANK YOU. This chapter is dedicated to you as a small token of my thanks, and drop me a message on here! I'd love to know who you are (in a non-creepy way haha) also... Spockums, you rock :D

Now enough from me...

Chapter Thirty-Two

"I don't like this, kid," the Doctor thought hard, his own voice projecting into their shared thought-space.

"It isn't great for me either," Chris answered back, guiding him through the mess of thoughts towards the information he was looking to share.

After a failed attempt at explaining what had happened that night, Chris had offered up the meld as a simpler way to pass over all of the information. It had the added bonus that nobody would overhear them.

The Doctor was struck by how very dark it felt inside the young man's thoughts, save for one corner of blinding light, almost like the sun, the rest seemed dark and gloomy, grey at best.

"So here… this is all of it."

It was an odd experience for Leonard, watching someone else's memory as if it was his own, but once he got over the initial disorientation he found the content of the memory troubled him from the very beginning.

It began with his own son's face, sleeping peacefully.

"Oh wait, skip this, too soon," Chris interrupted hastily, jolting the memory forwards, quickly flashing through him stealing Leo's pocket transporter and sending himself back to San Fran.

"You snuck out on David while he was sleeping?"

"Well… yeah. But once you see this, you won't care about that. Also, I only ever planned to be gone for less than an hour, he probably would never have noticed."

Chris' memory was walking down the street now, fast, approaching Starfleet HQ.

As soon as he got inside the main Administration building, things turned strange.

A large security officer whose name Leonard didn't know approached Chris as soon as he entered the building.

"Cadet, you're out of uniform," he pointed out and Chris stopped in his tracks.

"I don't have any classes. Just needed to talk to someone, that a problem?" Chris asked casually.

"Not for me, might be to some others. Watch your back Kirk," he warned and Chris shrugged, walking away and towards the elevators.

Mitchell kept a top-floor office. He had done for years, since he'd joined the Admiralty. Leonard had seen him brag about it multiple times, often reminding Jim of his status several floors above his own smaller working quarters.

The memory took a turn for the worse when the doors opened to the top floor corridor. An arm brandishing a hypospray launched out of nowhere, a sharp sting in the neck and then the memory became drowsy, the edges of the scene blurring as he was half-dragged along the corridor by an unfamiliar man in a non-descript black instructors uniform.

"Kirk, right on time. I'd offer you a seat, but I don't think that's optional at this point," Mitchell spoke with a nasty smile on his face; and an even nastier tone in his voice.

Chris's body was heavy, his vision blurring at the edges as he was steered towards a normal looking black office chair opposite Mitchell's desk. He sat, it was true, he didn't have much of a choice. His usually strong legs felt like two useless, soggy dead weights, completely incapable of supporting him.

"Some kind of muscle relaxant, Bones, I'm fine. Plus I think I metabolised it much faster than they were expecting," Chris interjected over the top of the memory, sensing the doctors concern.

"He's armed, Sir," the instructor said as he clumsily ran his hands over Chris who was slumped in the chair, body useless but mind clocking everything going on.

The phaser he'd tucked into his waistband was pulled out and placed on the desk in front of him.

"Where did you get a gun?" Bones hissed and Chris seemed to pause their viewing of the memory.

"Doesn't matter, just watch," he insisted, forcing the Doctor's focus back to the memory before him.

"Leave us," Mitchell ordered of the man in the black uniform.

"Sir?"

"I think I can handle him like this, wouldn't you say?" Mitchell smirked at Chris's state, obviously unaware that the tingling numbness in his limbs was already starting to quickly fade.

The man looked at Chris carefully once more before obeying and leaving them alone, the Admiral wasting no time in beginning his questions.

"So, Kirk, how can I help? Why are you here? Did you want to shoot me? Or…? How are we going to do this?" Mitchell asked, gesturing to the weapon on the desk.

His face dropped with shock as Chris lunged forwards and snatched it up. He was still a little clumsy, but he was mostly back in control. With the gun in his hand and his confidence renewed, Chris asked his first question.

"So. You let David McCoy jump out of a shuttle without a parachute. What's your problem with him?" Chris asked and Mitchell said nothing.

"Come on Gary, everyone's a grown-up here, let's talk about this huh? Like men?" Chris offered and Mitchell kept silent.

"How about we try this another way," Chris said, getting up from the seat, legs still feeling a little shaky but the effect of the drug quickly fading as it was broken down by his superior system, his heart pounding as he approached the Admiral who stared up at him defiantly.

"You want me dead? Is that it?" Chris asked, holding the weapon at his side, face getting closer to the admiral, now barely inches away as he towered over him in the chair, bending to keep their faces level.

"Then do it, Admiral. Shoot me. Right here, right now," he said coolly, grabbing one of Mitchell's clammy hands and bringing it up to the gun he now had pointed at his own temple, forcing the Admiral's hand to close around the weapon and closing his larger hand around the Admiral's hand.

Mitchell smirked and Chris snapped. His hand holding the gun moved so fast he was barely aware of it before he'd pistol-whipped Mitchell in the face, sending his head snapping back at the brutal impact.

The Admiral spat out a mouthful of blood before turning back to face the young man.

"You have no idea, do you? Of the pain in the ass your father was to everyone here?" he began and Chris caught himself before he struck the Admiral again, barely containing his rage.

"He was a disgrace. He was crooked, paying off Orion slavers! Making deals with our enemies, Klingons, even the Borg! I know what he told them, I know they're watching us now, it's all his fault. I bet you and your brother are all ready to follow in his footsteps, aren't you? And your little bitch McCoy too?"

Within the meld Chris could feel the doctor's anger rising, but he was doing his best to keep his thoughts to himself.

Mitchell didn't cry out as Chris struck him again with the phaser, sending his head whipping round again, a harsh crack resonating through the room. Chris was sure he'd shattered the man's cheekbone, his lack of reaction was frustrating him even further.

"You're animals. You and your brother, just like him, just like that traitor Khan! You've got no control over these abilities you're developing and you're a danger to yourselves and everyone around you. Look at you, you're so unstable, your control hangs by a thread and you have to go and cry in a circle with a bunch of other junkie lowlifes just to try and make yourself feel-"

Mitchell didn't get to finish as Chris threw him across the office, complete with the chair he was seated in.

If the situation hadn't been so dire Chris would have smirked at the strong feeling of pride he felt echoing across from the Doctor at this point.

"You don't get to say anything about my father, or my brother, or even me. You have no facts, and I don't know what started this pathetic little vendetta of yours but it ends right here and right now. So either we talk about this, or one of us isn't going to be walking out of this room," Chris threatened, hands shaking with rage.

"What's your problem with Jim? Hm? I know he rejected you at the Academy, I know what happened between you," Chris pressed and Mitchell laughed, dragging himself to his feet and squaring up to the younger man.

"You have no idea what happened between me and your father. Not even a clue. When he died he was under investigation for high treason against the Federation, his death was a cause for celebration, not sorrow," Mitchell spat and Chris kicked out at the desk this time, sending it flipping over, its contents flying in every direction.

"Liar!" Chris roared, barrelling at Mitchell full force and knocking him to the ground, landing on top of him, straddling the older man's chest, one hand on his face.

There was a look of fear and understanding in Mitchell's eyes as before he could stop himself, Chris forced himself into the Admiral's mind.

At this point Chris made everything pause, taking a moment to bring them both back from the meld, carefully untangling their minds.

"I'm sorry for the-"

"Emotional transference," Leonard winced, helpless to stop a few tears escaping his eyes and running down his face as he kept his eyes closed.

Chris looked around nervously. They were still alone in the silent living area of the strange house, their only company a faint pink glow beginning to creep into the room as the sun began to rise.

"You melded with him by force," Leonard mumbled quietly.

Chris shifted in his chair, not wanting to meet the Doctor's eye.

"Christopher. You melded with him… against his will. You know the consequences of that, you know what's that's the equivalent of-"

"Shut up!" Chris snapped, louder than he had realised, immediately regretting it as he felt a flash of confusion from the bond he shared with David, the younger man obviously having woken up at his shout and wondering why he was alone in the bed.

"I'm fully aware of what I did. But what I found? Bones, the guy is completely insane. He's made up all of these fictions in his head, all the shit he was spouting about Jim selling secrets and being a fraud? It's all just something he's created in his own head. And his history with Jim is… far from peachy. What did Jim ever tell you about it?" Chris asked and Bones lowered his head into his hands.

"Chris I… you mentally… you… you basically raped his mind," he whispered in a hollow voice, unable to believe Kirk to be capable of such a thing.

"And he tried to rape Jim. In the Academy. Jim fought him off in a bathroom, and then never pressed charges, you ever hear that story? No? Well I fucking did, because I took it from Mitchell's mind! You want to see it? You want to experience it?!" Chris demanded, struggling to keep his voice down, his whole body shaking with anger.

Bones was silent.

"Do you want to see the memories I took from him tonight?"

The Doctor stared at the young man before him, the crazed, fearful look in his eyes.

"No. I don't need to see it. I believe you," he breathed and Chris nodded.

"Where is Mitchell now?" he asked the young man who sighed, scratching the back of his head.

"I uh… well… he's hog-tied. In his office. I tied him to his chair and left him that way," Chris admitted and the doctor took a long slow inhale, mind reeling at the possible trouble all of this could potentially cause.

"I locked his office though, nobody should be able to get in, not without the new code I assigned to his door. It hasn't been long, he should still be there. Nobody saw me leaving so nobody will be suspicious yet," he added quickly and McCoy let his head fall into his hands momentarily.

"I'm going to have to intervene here aren't I?"

Chris stayed silent, dark eyes just fixed on the older man, remorse plain to see.

"But this doesn't make sense. Why is he so crazy over all this, if Jim never pressed charges? There's nothing in Jim's records, in his medical records if there was a fight? No evidence apart from his own memory of this event ever taking place. And if Jim is dead… then why does he have anything to be worried about?" Bones asked and Chris began to pace the room, eyes closed and hands on the back of his head, just walking four steps in one direction, turning, and walking back, then repeating over and over.

"I could only come up with two options. Option number one, he's so ignorant of the way a bond works that he thinks we all know what happened with Jim and that we could leak it at any time, destroy him and his career."

"But why would you? With Jim gone there's no proof, it would be your word against his and it'd just end up as one big messy lawsuit, slander, defamation of character-"Chris shook his head, interrupting the doctor.

"No. I don't like option one either. But I like option two even less," Chris sighed, pausing and looking back at the doctor through the half-light.

"And what's option two?"

"That Jim is alive somewhere, and Mitchell is covering it up so we don't find him and the truth doesn't come out," Chris breathed and Bones took a slow inhale.

"Chris, I'm sorry, you know I am, but he isn't alive anywhere, nobody is covering anything up, he isn't anywhere to be found-"

"See. I thought that too. For a really long time-"Chris interrupted and continued speaking until the doctor stopped. "But lately… where he was in my mind, I can feel something. There's something there again, really faint and really small, and I'm not getting anything across it. But it isn't empty anymore. Maybe I'm imagining it, because it's less painful than an empty space, or Spock has noticed something too, he'd know better than me if something was going-"

"What's going on?" asked a familiar voice from the top of the stairs.

A flash of alarm crossed the middle aged man's face as his son began to descend the stairs.

Glancing around and taking quick inspiration from his surroundings, Chris snatched up the almost empty bottle of Scotch that Scotty had left tucked just under the coffee table and drained the tiny amount that was left in the bottom, just enough that he'd have the scent of alcohol on his breath.

Bones gave him a look of acknowledgment and understanding of their hastily devised cover-up plan and played along.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said sadly as David reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes trailing over to Chris who had dropped into character perfectly, slumped on the couch, eyes staring forwards without focusing, now empty bottle on the floor at his feet.

"M'sorry," Chris slurred convincingly.

"Come here," David said softly, striding over and helping pull Chris to his feet, he pretended to stumble and Bones quickly added another layer to their lie.

"I found him out here about fifteen minutes ago, like I said, I didn't want to worry you with it," he said quietly and David sighed, shaking his head.

"What's the matter? What's happened?" David asked gently of his bondmate who hiccupped convincingly, clutching at David's baggy tee-shirt and sniffling.

"Worried 'bout Leo. Worried 'bout you. Almost lost you both," he mumbled pathetically as David gathered him into a caring embrace.

"But you didn't, ok? I'm here, and I'm safe, and Leo's here and he's safe. Let's get you back to bed, ok?"

It felt like being punched in the chest as Bones watched his son care for his bondmate, thinking he was heavily intoxicated, helping him lie about where he had been that night.

"I'm sorry. M'so sorry," Chris whimpered and David shushed him, helping him to his feet and supporting him towards the stairs.

As they passed Chris met the older McCoy's eye, his expression clear – this has to stay between us.

"You need any help?" Bones offered his son who shook his head.

"No, it's ok. It's bad enough already that he woke you this early, you should get some rest," he said sincerely and he nodded, padding back towards his own room as David helped Chris fake-clumsily ascend the stairs.

The Doctor fell back into bed with his mind racing. He'd have to deal with Mitchell now, and fast, but first he needed to come up with a plan.

*~*~*~*PAGE BREAK*~*~*~*

Emily woke to an empty bed. She reached out and then sat up quickly, alarmed that Leo was missing from her side, knowing full well he wasn't supposed to be up and walking around.

She listened for movement in the house but couldn't hear anything so very quietly slipped from the bed and crept towards the main living area and kitchen, able to smell food as she got closer. She rounded the corner, her face forming an expression somewhere between amused and annoyed as she saw Leo leaning uncomfortably against the kitchen counter, hair a mess and looking still half asleep.

"Hey, you aren't supposed to be out of bed," she pointed out, causing him to jump slightly as she startled him.

"But… if I can't get out of bed, how am I supposed to bring you breakfast in bed?" he asked, smiling and opening his arms to pull her into a warm hug. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, able to feel him trembling a little and pulling back, looking at him concernedly.

"I'm fine," he protested quickly.

His face was tight, jaw clenched, eyes a little swollen from his tears the previous night though the bruising that had flared up had already healed and there was no trace of it left.

"You don't look fine," she said sadly and he smirked.

"I'll have you know I look damn fine," he protested, shifting his weight a little and trying a cocky smirk, but ending up grimacing.

"Stop deflecting. Where does it hurt?" she asked and he shrugged.

She gave him a look which she hoped was at least somehow similar to the one her father used on her and her siblings when they were misbehaving as children. A look that said immediately 'cut out all that shit this instant if you want to live'.

"My back. It hurts so bad I don't know what to do with myself," he admitted and she pulled him gently into another embrace, fingers of her left hand lacing with his, her right hand low on his back but barely touching, not wanting to cause him any more discomfort.

"How about I finish up in here, you go back and lay down. I'll bring breakfast to you?" she offered and he frowned.

"But I was-"

"I know. And it's very sweet of you, but let me take care of you today," she said softly and he admitted defeat after a few seconds under her stern gaze, limping from the room and back towards bed.

There was a bowl of fresh fruit, neatly chopped and ready to eat, as well as the delicious smell of croissants drifting from the oven. They were almost ready, so Emily loaded up a big plate she located in one of the cupboards and made two cups of coffee before balancing everything carefully and heading back to Leo.

He was laying flat on his back, pillow discarded, staring at the ceiling blankly. He managed a weak smile for her as she placed the coffee cups on the side and helped him sit up so they could pick at their food.

"Thank you for this," she grinned and he shrugged, looking miserable.

"Where did you find fresh croissants? And fruit? There's almost nothing here," she asked and he gave her another small smile.

"I begged Scotty, he was going out for an early morning hike, so I asked him if he was able to help me try to not be a dick to you today, he suggested I make you breakfast. So… I asked him to bring breakfast food on his way back."

"It's sweet of you," she said smiling again and he shrugged, looking down as he sipped at his coffee.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered quietly and he looked at her for a few moments.

"Could we… Could I share?" he offered his right hand towards her face, fingers extending in a familiar pattern.

Sharing their minds wasn't something they often did. She often used to ask, but gave up when it became apparent he wasn't all too comfortable with it, preferring to only get a trace of a link when they were very close rather than a full meld.

"Of course," she said, leaning across and carefully setting down her plate on the bedside table, settling back on the bed with her legs crossed.

He gave her a look she was beginning to understand all too well and she obliged, laying down and settling her head on his chest, her arm around his waist in a loose, gentle grip, not wanting to cause him any pain.

His hand settled on her face and she glanced up to meet his eyes, giving him a small nod of consent. A second later and their minds were one, and she felt like she was plunging into a spiral of despair as she felt the darkness of his mind.

After what felt like only another second she came to her senses. She had moved and was sitting on the edge of the bed now, her face wet with tears and Leo's arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-" he was crying too and she shook her head, trying to force herself to calm down quickly.

"No. It's ok. I'm glad you shared that with me. We're going to get through this together ok?" she said shakily and he nodded.

"I feel like I'm lost at sea, in the dark, and I'm just… drifting," he said slowly and she nodded, having just felt what he was feeling that was certainly one way she would describe it.

She took a deep breath before she asked her next question.

"Have you ever been to Jim's grave?" she asked and felt his body tense beside her.

"Em I-"

"No. This is important. This is an important part of how you're feeling right now. Have you ever been to visit him?" she asked and he chewed his lip, fresh tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Only… only his funeral," he finally answered.

"I think we should go," she said softly and he nodded.

"His birthday is coming up," Leo mumbled, voice oddly high pitched as he fought back tears.

"I know. I think we should go with everyone else, or we could go by ourselves, or I don't even have to go with you, but I think you need to talk to him about how you're feeling," she said pointedly and he opened his mouth to protest. She could already hear his arguments before he voiced them. Why visit an empty grave? What good will talking to a lump of rock do me? He isn't there.

She placed her finger gently on his lips before he could voice any protests.

"I talk to him. All the time. Every time I play a show, I've got songs written about him, for him… it always makes me feel better. So I think you should go and talk to Jim, and tell him to look after… y'know," she trailed off and Leo sniffled, dangerously close to losing control again. He wasn't ready to talk any further about their loss, and about what it meant to him.

"I'll go with everybody, for his birthday," Leo finally spoke, having taken a few minutes to pull himself together.

"Good, I know it'll help you," she said and he nodded.

"So tired," he sighed and she shifted away from him a little so he could lay back down.

"I'm not sure why my dad hasn't turned up and started prodding at you yet, I'll go track him down, see if he can give you anything for your back?" she offered and he nodded.

"An amputation?" he suggested and she huffed a laugh.

"Pretty sure he can't amputate your spine, no matter how much it's hurting right now," she said and he pouted.

"They should be able to," he mumbled, closing his eyes and sinking back into the pillows, defeated.

"I'll go find him, hang tight," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze and standing up.

Noticing a big warm sweatshirt of Leo's laying across a chair in the corner she picked it up and pulled the oversized garment on, giving Leo a wink before leaving the room and padding down the corridor in her socks, slowing down as she reached the kitchen and could hear voices.

"-important that we talk about it. Much as I don't want to. It's important that we talk about it, it's obviously affecting you."

She heard her brother scoff and knew this was probably a conversation she shouldn't listen to.

"Not affecting me as much as you being drunk last night."

"Forget last night, ok? Right. This girl on the tape, what do you want to know about her? Hm? Her name started with an 'A', I was, as you can probably tell from the tape, completely wasted when I slept with her, and I didn't even-" David interrupted quite harshly and Emily flinched, starting to sneak away on the rickety wooden floor, silently praying to any god that might be listening that she wouldn't stand on a beam that would squeak.

"I can't forget it. You work so hard to keep yourself healthy, and then you have nights where you… you don't talk to me. Instead of talking to me, you hide alone and drink all the Scotch? Why? Why don't you just talk to me? How are we ever supposed to progress in our relationship if you don't want to even talk to me when you're feeling down?"

"Progress in our relationship? What is that even supposed to mean David?" Chris asked, Emily heard a chair scrape across the floor and knew one of them had got defensively to their feet.

"Move forwards. Move… forwards together. I… all the things we want to do," David answered weakly.

There were a few seconds of silence before Chris answered.

"And why would my mind have changed about any of those things? It hasn't. I just… I just slipped. What I need right now is for you to help me get back up, not kick me while I'm down!"

"I'm not kicking you while you're down! I just can't lose you to this, I can't," David admitted, his voice cracking as he finished.

Emily backed up another few steps away from the door, the floorboards giving a threatening whine under her feet. She held her breath and stayed completely still, ears straining for any sign that they might have heard her in the hallway. It sounded as though they hadn't.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking selfish. Maybe… maybe I should go back to rehab, do another month or… something. I need to fix this mess in my head, I need to be better," she heard Chris mumble quietly, a sinking, sad feeling in her chest listening to him sound in such a bad way.

"I don't want you to go. How would I deal with not seeing you for a whole month?"

"You'd be bored and sexually frustrated? And fat, because nobody would stop you eating carbs or drag your lazy ass to the gym," Chris said in a light tone. Emily heard the distinctive sound of someone getting punched, probably Chris, and then laughter.

She took the opportunity to back up another few steps, now far enough away that she could creep back into Leo's room where she found him in a light sleep so she kept quiet and just watched his steady breathing, letting her mind run over their conversations from the previous night and the morning.

She still hadn't really felt herself emotionally react. She knew it would be coming, but for now, it hadn't hit her yet, she needed more time to process it.

A few minutes passed and there was a knock at the door before it opened to reveal her father, who looked tired and irritable and wasted no time in disturbing Leo from his sleep. Emily knew to avoid him in this mood, so excused herself as he checked on Leo's progress.

"Look like you've barely slept Doc," Leo commented as his foot was manipulated into various positions by the exhausted looking doctor who took numerous readings with his tricorder that whirred enthusiastically.

"I haven't," he grunted, making a note of Leo's wince of pain as he pushed his foot all the way back.

"Something on your mind?" Leo asked innocently and McCoy snorted, laughing sarcastically.

"If only you knew kid, if only you knew," he said.

"Stand up," he ordered and Leo obeyed, carefully easing himself out of bed.

"Now your bones have… and god knows how, have all healed on their own-" He paused as Leo grinned, proud of his body's ability to heal itself so quickly "-but don't get so damn cocky kid, ligaments are more difficult. You're going to be hurting for a while yet. No training, and I'll be referring you to a physiotherapist to get your strength back in that leg, and to work on your core strength to better support your spine, no arguments," he said sternly and Leo nodded.

"No… any kind of training? No nothing?"

"Not until I say. I'm going to put a note on your file and ban you from all Starfleet fitness facilities until I clear you," he said and Leo pouted.

"You're damn lucky," he grumbled. Leo couldn't help but notice his hands were trembling slightly as he finished taking readings with the tricorder.

"Bones. Are you sure you're alright?" Leo asked carefully, the doctor avoided his eye and grumbled a response that even Leo's sensitive hearing couldn't make sense of.

"Bones?" he asked again, grabbing the doctors wrist.

The older man met his eye.

"I… I don't know kid. I can't talk about it right now," he answered. The look on his face told Leo not to ask any more questions, but he still opened his mouth to ask and closed it again at the change in the doctor's expression that told him to really not ask questions.

*~*~*~*PAGE BREAK*~*~*~*

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER

"I'd say that I'm sorry, but I'm really not."

It felt like someone else had taken over his mouth. He'd never dare say something like that to an admiral, even to Mitchell.

Whoever had taken over his mouth had also taken over his body too; he watched his own hands readying a hypo as if he was watching someone else's.

"This is a very powerful mind-altering substance. It's going to erase your memories of today, and yesterday, and I'm not really too sure how much further back. Depends how much I give you," he threated, Mitchell stared at him defiantly.

Chris had done a hell of a job tying him up. He'd barely been able to move, and the strip of cloth across his mouth hadn't moved either, leaving Mitchell's only method of communication to make angry eyes at the doctor. His face was swelling grotesquely from the heavy blows he had taken from the young man, and McCoy knew he probably needed attention, especially if he had fractures, but medical care wasn't something he was going to give him at that moment.

"I don't understand Gary… You just took it too far. You can't play god with people's lives, whether you agree with their choices or not, you just can't," he muttered, checking the hypo again. He'd got the dosage right, it should only take Mitchell back a few weeks, but long enough for him to forget Chris had ever been in his office, to clear him, and that was all that mattered. The hypocrisy of his own words stung him though, as he was playing god now to Mitchell, just has the admiral had tried to play god with the lives of numerous cadets.

Before he could change his mind he pressed the hypo to the admiral's neck and dispensed it, the hiss as the substance entered his bloodstream confirming the smooth and effective delivery.

It took a few seconds for the drug to kick in, for Mitchell to go completely limp in the chair he was bound to as unconsciousness took over him.

Once he was certain the larger man was out, McCoy untied him, placing him carefully back behind his desk and clearing up the mess of the room. There were obvious signs of the scuffle with Chris earlier and it took him a few minutes to hide all the evidence of that. Once he was done he removed the other item he had in his small pack of supplies he'd snuck in with him, disinfectant wipes.

He carefully cleaned off anywhere he had touched, or anywhere Chris might have touched, including Mitchell himself. His face, his hands and wrists, any exposed skin, removing both fingerprints and DNA evidence.

He surveyed the room once more, and when finally satisfied, he left silently with all of his incriminating items stashed back away in the small bag he was carrying.

He made it all the way to the turbo-lift before a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"McCoy?"

He turned slowly and cracked half a smile when he saw Admiral Archer standing a little way down the hallway behind him, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Admiral, good to see you," he forced out as casually as he could, his heart pounding so hard against his ribs he was worried the old man would hear it.

"Care to step into my office for a moment?" the elderly man offered and McCoy weighed up his options.

Archer was looking at him like he was fully aware of what he had just done; however, Archer was on 'team Jim'. He always had been, and McCoy was relatively certain always would be. He couldn't bolt for the lift, and he didn't have any more drugs on his person to modify Archer's memory too.

"I can make it an order, before you think about getting in that lift," Archer added and McCoy swallowed, stepping away from the lift doors as they opened to reveal the safety of the interior, the temptation of a smooth escape.

"Sir," McCoy nodded, stepping towards the Admiral on increasingly shaky legs, eyes scanning the hallway for somewhere to ditch the small bag of medical supplies.

"Don't even try to ditch your bag, I want to see what's in it first," he said, as if he was reading his mind.

Archer went into his office first and beckoned for the doctor to follow, he did, reluctantly, and sank down into the single chair opposite Archer's desk, heart hammering against his ribs.

"I never thought you'd have the balls," said Archer as the door closed.

"Sir?"

"You know. The balls? Guts? Stones? I didn't think you had it in you Leonard, is what I'm trying to say. You couldn't just wait could you, couldn't just wait for me to get my plan into motion and get rid of that slimeball?" he demanded, setting himself down wearily in his own chair.

McCoy said nothing, just looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to explain.

"I've been trying to get rid of Mitchell since almost the moment he joined the Admiralty. I thought I finally had an angle when he started his whole vendetta against Spock, against Chris and David… and a whole bunch of other cadets. Basically anyone romantically involved with a cadet of the same gender. Took me a while to piece it together, being that it's something that I view as being of no significance… but when I did, I was pissed. Jim wouldn't have stood for this shit. I started building a case, quietly, and I was about to make my play… but now I guess I don't need to," he shrugged and McCoy hung his head for a moment.

"Sir… I… he made an attempt on my son's life, he let him jump out of a shuttle with a sabotaged parachute and-"

"I know," Archer interrupted.

"You… know?" McCoy asked and Archer nodded.

"Your lovely wife told me. She's been helping me build my case. Bringing me everything you guys had over in your corner," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that almost made the doctor relax and feel like he wasn't in trouble.

"I… I wasn't aware of that," he said weakly and the Admiral nodded.

"I know. I asked her to keep it that way. I knew you'd want it kept amongst yourselves, so I wanted you to think it was. Now what Christopher did tonight was bold, and dangerous, and a little on the stupid side, but I understand why he did it. There's not going to be any action taken against him. Based on the extenuating circumstances and the fact that he did a good enough job erasing the security footage, I can overlook it. However…"

McCoy swallowed hard.

"Leonard. You should have known better. You're a fine doctor, an exemplary officer with a brilliant service record, and the mind behind some medical advancements that frankly I didn't know if I was going to live to see," he started, but there was a sadness creeping into his tone.

"Mitchell had been building his own case, and it wasn't just against Jim, it was against you," he said, handing a PADD across the desk with an alarming list of information on it.

All the times he had breached procedure and Jim had swept it under the rug in his Captains logs, all the times he had broken countless rules to do what he thought was best, all the times he'd made a mistake, the chemo he'd given to Leo when it was now proven the mass in his brain was never cancerous at all, nearly killing him in the process, the rules he'd broken to oversee Chris's treatment after the incident with the Borg, and his own psych evaluations following Jim's death, showing him a whisker above the definition of 'emotionally compromised and unfit for service'.

"Where did he get-"

"I'm trying not to think about that. The problem, Leonard, is he sent all of this information out to a third party, right before Chris barged into his office. He must have seen him coming, decided to press the red button on it, but this shit storm is not going to blow over. There are some things in this report that worry me. And because I know you personally, I know these are things you did out of love, and out of protective instinct, and out of going above and beyond the line of duty, but that won't wash with people who don't know you. This is going to cause uproar, and the Admiralty will be expected to call for your dishonourable discharge from the fleet. I'm sorry Leonard," he finished solemnly and McCoy barely dared to breathe.

His eyes scanned back over and over the list before him, the physical charting up of twenty years of any bad decision or mistake he'd ever made, every time he'd overstepped the mark carefully documented and back to bite him squarely on the ass.

"I wanted to offer you the chance to resign, right now. And I'm willing to forget that I know what you just did to Mitchell back there in his office," he offered.

McCoy stared at the old man, mouth opening and closing wordlessly a few times, a strange ringing forming in his ears.

"And if I don't?" he asked in a hollow voice very much unlike his own.

"They'll tear you down. They'll probably go after Carol next, maybe even David or Joanna. Leonard, I'm sorry. If I'd have known he had this, I could have tried to-"

"Who-" Leonard cut him off, throat constricting, causing him to cough a little before continuing.

"Who did he send it to? The third party? Who was it?" he asked and Archer shook his head slowly.

"I don't know yet. I've got someone working on getting it traced," he answered and Leonard nodded.

He opened and closed his mouth a few more times.

"If I resign, it's almost an admission of guilt," he reasoned with himself aloud and the Admiral nodded.

"Yes, it could be seen that way. But let me ask you something honestly, is there anything on that list that's untrue? Anything on that list that you didn't do?" he asked and the doctor shook his head.

"No. I did all of those things and faced with the same situations again tomorrow, I'd do them all again," he said firmly and Archer gave a small smile.

"So stand by your decisions, your actions, and resign from Starfleet. Don't let them try to drag you through the dirt. You don't want this to go to enquiry, if it does then your medical licence will get suspended, it'll be much, much worse that way. And let's face it doc, you're never going back out there without that fool as your Captain anyway," he said fondly and Leonard let out a weak chuckle.

"No. I guess you're right," he sighed.

It was true. He'd been considering it for a long time. He had much more to give than just watching the clock at Starfleet medical and he had no desire to go back out into space, particularly after the things he'd seen last time.

"I'll do it," he said finally, and with a surprising assertiveness to his tone.

Archer nodded and handed him over a PADD.

He wrote a few lines before verifying with his thumbprint and handing it back to the Admiral. He felt oddly numb as he did so, knowing his career with Starfleet was over, just like that, and that he was about to face hell as the media would tear into him over the information in the document Mitchell had passed to an unknown source.

"One more thing, while I have you here," Archer said and the doctor nodded, the elderly man's voice making him snap out of his thoughts again.

"I think Mitchell is hiding something from everyone else, from all the other Admirals. He's got files that are protected by so much encryption even Molly Scott can't get at them, and I've never seen her have to give up on hacking something before. I'll keep you and Carol informed of course, once I have more on it," he said and McCoy just nodded wearily.

"My advice to you right now is to stay with Scotty. I know where he's got you all and you'll be safe there. Give everything here a week to settle down, let Kirk get some rest, let David get his head around his first near-death experience, and then come back and figure things out. I know you'll do great things now, and we'll take care of Mitchell, that's if he remembers who the hell he is when he wakes up of course," Archer said with a small twist of his lips that Leonard wasn't sure was a smirk or a grimace.

He took the hint and left. By the time he arrived back in Scotland people were awake in the house so he set about taking a look at Leo, resolving to keep his resignation a secret from everybody as long as he could.